Who never spake more words than these :

'Fight on, my merry men all ; For why, my life is at an end ;

Lord Percy sees my fall.'

Then leaving life, Earl Percy took

The dead man by the hand,
And said : 'Earl Douglas, for thy life

Would I had lost my land.

“O sad ! my very heart doth bleed

With sorrow for thy sake;
For sure a more renowned knight

Mischance could never take,'

A knight among the Scots there was

Which saw Earl Douglas die,
Who straight in wrath did vow revenge

Upon the Lord Percy,

Sir Hugh Montgomery was he called,

Who, with a spear most bright, Well mounted on a gallant steed,

Ran fiercely through the fight;

And past the English archers all,

Without all dread and fear;
And through Earl Percy's body then

He thrust his hateful spear ; 8

With such vehement force and might

He did his body gore,
The staff went through the other side

A large cloth-yard, and more.

So thus did both these nobles die,

Whose courage none could stain. An English archer then perceived

The noble earl was slain :



He had a bow bent in his hand,

Made of a trusty tree :
An arrow of a cloth-yard long

Up to the head drew he :

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery

So right the shaft he set,
The gray-goose wing that was thereon

In his heart's blood was wet.

This fight did last from break of day

Till setting of the sun ;
For when they rang the evening bell

The battle scarce was done.

With brave Earl Percy there was slain

Sir John of Egerton,
Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,

Sir James, that bold baròn :

And with Sir George and stout Sir James,

Both knights of good account,
Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain,

Whose prowess did surmount.'
For Witherington needs must I wail

As one in doleful dumps ; 10
For when his legs were smitten off

He fought upon his stumps.

And with Earl Douglas there was slain

Sir Hugh Montgomery ;
Sir Charles Murray, that from the field

One foot would never flee.

Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,

His sister's son was he;
Sir David Lamb, so well esteemed,

Yet saved could not be.

And the Lord Maxwell in like case

Did with Earl Douglas die :
Of twenty hundred Scottish spears,

Scarce fifty-five did fly.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,

Went home but fifty-three ;
The rest were slain in Chevy Chase,

Under the greenwood tree.

Next day did many widows come,

Their husbands to bewail ; They washed their wounds in brinish tears ;

But all would not prevail.

Their bodies, bathed in purple gore,

They bare with them away ; They kissed them dead a thousand times,

Ere they were clad in clay.11

This news was brought to Edinburgh,

Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly

Was with an arrow slain.

'O heavy news !' King James did say : 12

‘Scotland can witness be, I have not any captain more

Of such account as he.'

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Now God be with him,' said our king,

Since it will no better be ;
I trust I have, within my realm,

Five hundred as good as he :



“Yet shall not Scots nor Scotland say

But I will vengeance take : I'll be revenged on them all

For brave Earl Percy's sake.'

This vow full well the king performed,

After, at Humbledown : 14
In one day fifty knights were slain,

With lords of great renown;
And of the rest, of small account,

Did many hundreds die : Thus ending the hunting of Chevy Chase,

Made by the Earl Percy.

God save our king, and bless this land,

In plenty, joy, and peace ;
And grant henceforth that foul debate

'Twixt noblemen may cease.

1 Chevy Chase. This spirited ballad

commemorates the Battle of Otterburn, fought on the 19th August 1388 between James, Earl of Douglas, and Sir Henry Percy, the renowned Hotspur. Douglas fell in the hour of victory; and the English leader, along with his brother, Sir Ralph Percy, were taken captive. The writer of this ballad is unknown, but its majestic stanzas have frequently elicited the admiration of our best writers. Ben Jonson used to say that he would rather have been author of it than of all his own works; and Addison was so professed an admirer of it that he carefully scrutinises it, verse by verse, and compares it, so far as it goes, in sentiment and diction, with the immortal productions of Homer and Virgil. The author, whoever he may have been, sides with the English, but gives the Scots credit for their

valour. A like partiality is shewn in the Scottish version of the same conflict. See Scott's (Minstrelsy

of the Scottish Border. 2 Rue, regret. 3 Quarry, a heap of dead game. 4 List, wish, choose. 5 Out-braved, defied, bullied. 6 Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent.

Earl Douglas still keeps his ground. 7 Lay on loud, strike with loud blows. 8 And through Earl Percy's body then he

thrust his hateful spear. This stanza is historically incorrect; Hotspur was not slain at Otterburn, but the fate of a soldier awaited him in a more important field. He fell as leader of the

at the battle of Shrewsbury in 1403. 9 Surmount, excel. 10 Doleful dumps, a sad state of mind. 11 Ere they were clad in clay. Ere they

were buried. 12 'O heavy news !' King James did say.

rebel army

The poet's historical knowledge is seriously at fault with regard to the monarchs of the two kingdoms towards the end of the 14th century. James I. did not succeed to the Scottish sceptre till his return from captivity in 1424; and Robert II., his grandfather, was king when the events narrated in

the ballad occurred. 13 King Henry. Richard II. was king

of England for eleven years before and eleven years after Chevy Chase.' He was succeeded in 1399

by Henry IV. 14 At Humbledown. The battle of

Homildon Hill was fought September 14, 1402. A considerable army of Scots, led by Earl Douglas, was routed by the English bowmen under the fiery Hotspur.



'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won

By Philip's warlike son:
Aloft, in awful state,
The godlike hero sate

On his imperial throne :

His valiant peers were placed around,
Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound ;

So should desert in arms be crowned.
The lovely Thaïs 3 by his side
Sat, like a blooming Eastern bride,
In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

Happy, happy, happy pair;

None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the brave deserves the fair.

Timotheus, placed on high

Amid the tuneful choir,

With flying fingers touched the lyre :
The trembling notes ascend the sky,

And heavenly joys inspire.
The song began from Jove,
Who left his blissful seat above,
Such is the power of mighty Love !
A dragon's fiery form belied the god :
Sublime on radiant spheres he rode,

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