The Book of Brave Old Ballads Part 10

Yet will we spend our dearest blood, Thy chiefest harts to slay.

Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, And thus in rage did say,

Ere thus will I out-braved be, One of us two shall die: I know thee well, an earl thou art, Lord Percy; so am I.

But trust me, Percy, pity 'twere, And great offence to kill Any of these our guiltless men, For they have done no ill.

Let thou and I the battle try, And set our men aside.

Accurst be he, Earl Percy said, By whom this is denied.

Then stept a gallant squire forth, Witherington was his name, Who said, I would not have it told To Henry our king for shame,

That e'er my captain fought on foot, And I stood looking on.

You be two earls, said Witherington, And I a squire alone:

I'll do the best that do I may, While I have power to stand: While I have power to wield my sword, I'll fight with heart and hand.

Our English archers bent their bows, Their hearts were good and true; At the first flight of arrows sent, Full four-score Scots they slew.

Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent[82]

As Chieftain stout and good, As valiant Captain, all unmov'd The shock he firmly stood.

His host he parted had in three, As leader ware and try'd, And soon his spearmen on their foes Bore down on every side.

Throughout the English archery They dealt full many a wound: But still our valiant Englishmen All firmly kept their ground:

And throwing straight their bows away, They grasp'd their swords so bright: And now sharp blows, a heavy shower, On s.h.i.+elds and helmets light.

They clos'd full fast on every side, No slackness there was found; And many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground.

O Christ! it was a grief to see, And likewise for to hear, The cries of men lying in their gore, And scattered here and there.

At last these two stout earls did meet, Like captains of great might: Like lions wood,[83] they laid on loud, And made a cruel fight:

They fought until they both did sweat, With swords of tempered steel; Until the blood, like drops of rain, They trickling down did feel.

Yield thee, Lord Percy, Douglas said; In faith I will thee bring, Where thou shalt high advanced be By James our Scottish king:

Thy ransom I will freely give, And thus report of thee, Thou art the most courageous knight, That ever I did see.

No, Douglas, quoth Earl Percy then, Thy proffer I do scorn; I will not yield to any Scot, That ever yet was born.

With that, there came an arrow keen Out of an English bow, Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart, A deep and deadly blow:

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHEVY CHASE. EARL PERCY, AND EARL DOUGLAS.]

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 Christ! my very heart doth bleed With sorrow for thy sake; For sure, a more renowned knight Mischance could never take.

A knight amongst 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 call'd 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 or fear; And through Earl Percy's body then He thrust his hateful spear;

With such a 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 n.o.bles die, Whose courage none could stain; An English archer then perceiv'd The n.o.ble 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 grey 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 rung the evening bell,[84]

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 Barn:

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; 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 esteem'd, 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 kiss'd them dead a thousand times, Ere they were clad in clay.

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, Scotland can witness be, I have not any captain more Of such account as he.

Like tidings to King Henry came, Within as short a s.p.a.ce, That Percy of Northumberland Was slain in Chevy Chase:

Now G.o.d 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 perform'd After, at Humbledown; In one day, fifty knights were slain, With lords of great renown:

And of the rest, of small account, Did many thousands die: Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy Chase, Made by the Earl Percy.