An Unhappy Memorable SONG of the Hunting on
CHEVY CHACE, between the Earl PIERCY of
England and Earl DOUGLAS of Scotiand.
To the Tune, of Flying Fame.
|
GOD prosper long our noble King,
|
Our Lives and Safeties all;
|
A woful Hunting once there did,
|
In Chevy Chace befal.
|
To drive the Deer with Hound and Horn
|
Earl Piercy took his way:
|
The Child may rue that was unborn;
|
The Hunting of that Day.
|
The stout Earl of Northumberland,
|
A Vow to God did make,
|
His Pleasure in the Scottish woods,
|
Three Summer-Days to take.
|
The chiefest Hart in Chevy Chace,
|
To kill and bear away.
|
These Tidings to Earl Deuglas came,
|
In Scotland where he lay;
|
Who sent Earl Piercy present Word,
|
He would prevent his Sport;
|
The English Earl not fearing this,
|
Did to the woods resort,
|
With fifteen Hundred Bowmen bold,
|
All chosen Men of Might;
|
Who knew full well in Time of Need,
|
To aim their Shafts aright.
|
The gallant Greyhound swiftly ran,
|
To chase the Fallow Deer:
|
On Monday they began to hunt,
|
When Day-light did appear;
|
And long before high Noon they had,
|
A hundred fat bucks slain:
|
And having dind, the Drovers went,
|
To rouse them up again.
|
The Bowmen musterd on the Hills
|
Well able to endure;
|
Their Backsides all with special Care,
|
That Day were guarded sure.
|
The Hounds ran swiftly thro the Wood
|
The nimble Deer to take,
|
And with their Cries the Hills and Dales,
|
An echo shrill did make
|
Earl Piercy to the Quarry went,
|
To view the tender Deer:
|
Quoth he, Earl Douglas promised,
|
This Day to meet me here:
|
But if I thought he would not come,
|
No longer would I stay:
|
With that a brave young Gentleman,
|
Thus to the Earl did say;
|
Lo! yonder doth Earl Douglas come,
|
His Men in Armour bright;
|
Full twenty hundred Scotish Peers,
|
All marching in our Sight.
|
All pleasent Men of Tividale,
|
Fast by the River Tweed:
|
Then cease your Sport, Earl Piercy said,
|
And take your Bows with Speed.
|
And now with me my Country Men,
|
Your courage forth ad[van]ce,
|
For never was there Champions yet,
|
In Scotland or in France,
|
That ever did on Horsback come,
|
But since my Hap it were,
|
I durst encounter Man for Man,
|
With him to break a Spear.
|
Earl Douglas on a Milk-White Steed,
|
Most like a baron bold,
|
Rode foremost of the Company,
|
Whose Armour shone like Gold.
|
Shew me, said he, whose Men ye be,
|
That hunt so boldly oers,
|
That without my consent do chace,
|
And kill my fallow Deer?
|
The Man that first did Answer make,
|
Was the noble Piercy he,
|
Who said, we list not to declare,
|
Nor shew whose men we be.
|
Yet we will spend our dearest blood,
|
The chiefest Hart to slay:
|
Then Douglas swore a solemn Oath,
|
And thus in Rage did say:
|
Eer thus I will out-braved be,
|
One of us two shall die,
|
I know thee well, an Earl thou art,
|
Lord Piercy so am I.
|
But trust me Piercy pity it were,
|
And great Offence to kill,
|
Any of these our harmless Men,
|
For they have done no Ill:
|
Let thou and I the Battle try,
|
And set our Men aside.
|
Accursd be he Lord Piercy said,
|
By whom this is denyd.
|
Then stept a gallant Squire forth,
|
Windrington was his Name;
|
Who said, He would not have it told
|
To Henry his King for Shame,
|
That eer his Captain fought on Foot
|
And he stood looking on:
|
You be two Earl said Widdrinton,
|
And I a Squire alone.
|
Ill do the best that I can do,
|
Whilst I have power to stand;
|
Whilst I have power to weild my Sword,
|
Ill 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 threescore Scots they stew.
|
To drive the Deer with Hound and Horn
|
Earl Douglas bit the Bent;
|
A Captain movd with meikle Pride,
|
Their Spears to shivers went.
|
They closd full fast on every Side,
|
No slackness there was found,
|
And many a gallant Gntleman,
|
Lay gasping on the ground.
|
Alas! it was great 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 movd their Blows they laid,
|
And made a cruel Fight.
|
They fought until they both did sweat,
|
With Swords of temperd Steel,
|
Until the Blood like Drops of Rain,
|
They trickling down did feel.
|
Yield thee, Lord Piercy, Douglas said,
|
In faith I will thee bring,
|
Where thou shalt high advanced be,
|
By James our Scottish King;
|
A Ransom I will freely give,
|
And this Report of thee,
|
Thou art the most couragious Knight,
|
That ever I did see.
|
No, Douglas, quoth Earl Piercy 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.
|
Who never spoke more words then these
|
Fight on my merry Men all,
|
For why my Life is at an End,
|
Lord Piercy sees my Fall.
|
Then leaving Life Earl Piercy took,
|
The dead Man by the Hand,
|
And said Earl Douglas, for thy Life,
|
Would I had lost my Land.
|
Alas! my very heart doth bleed,
|
With Sorrow for thy Sake,
|
For sure a more renowned knight,
|
Mischance did never take.
|
A Knight amongst the Scots there was,
|
Who saw Earl Douglas die,
|
Who straight in Wrath did now Revenge.
|
Upon the Earl Piercy
|
Sir Hugh Montgomery, he was calld,
|
Who with a Spear most bright,
|
Well mounted on a gallant Steed,
|
Ran fiercely thro the Fight,
|
And past our English Archers all,
|
Without all Dread or Fear,
|
And through Earl Piercys Body then,
|
He thrust his hateful Spear:
|
With such vehement Force and Might,
|
He did his Body gore;
|
The Spear 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 perceivd,
|
The noble Earl was stain:
|
He had a Bow bent in his Hand,
|
Made of a trusty Tree,
|
An Arrow of a Cloth Yard long,
|
Unto the Head drew he,
|
Against Sir Hugh Montgomery;
|
So right his Shaft he set,
|
The grey Goose wings thas were theron
|
In his Hearts Blood were wet.
|
The 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 the Earl Piercy there was slain,
|
Sir John of Oggerton,
|
Sir Robert Radcliffe and Sir John,
|
Sir James that bold Baron.
|
And with Sir George and good Sir James
|
Both Knights of good Account,
|
Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain,
|
Whose Prowess did surmount.
|
For Widdrington 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 Montgimory,
|
Sir Charles Murray that from the Field,
|
One Foot would never fly
|
Sir Charles Murray of Radcliffe too,
|
His Sisters Son was he:
|
Sir David Lamb so well esteemed,
|
Yet saved could not be:
|
And the Lord Maxwell, he likewise,
|
Did with Earl Douglas die;
|
Oft twenty Hundred Scottish Peers,
|
Scarce fifty-five did fly;
|
Of twneta Hundred Englishmen,
|
Went Home but fifty-three,
|
The rest were slain in Chevy Chace,
|
Under the Greenwood Tree.
|
Next Day did many Widows come,
|
Their Husband to bewail,
|
They wash their wounds in brenish Tears
|
But all would not prevail.
|
Their Bodies bathd in purple Blood,
|
They bore with them away;
|
They kissd them dead a thousand Times
|
When they were cold as Clay.
|
This News was brought to Edinburgh
|
Where Scotlands 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 Space,
|
That Piercy of Northumberland,
|
Was slain in Chevy Chace.
|
Now God be with him said our King,
|
Since twill not better be,
|
I trust I have within my Realm,
|
Five hundred as good as he.
|
Yet shall not Scot or Scotland say,
|
But I will Vengeance take,
|
And be revenged on them all,
|
For brave Earl Piercys Sake.
|
This Vow the King full well performd,
|
After one humble Down,
|
In one Day fifty Knights were slain,
|
And Lords of high Renown:
|
And of the Rest of small Account,
|
Did many Hundreds die;
|
Thus ends the Hunting of Chevy Chace
|
Made by the Earl Piercy.
|
God save the King, and bless the Land,
|
In Plenty Joy and Peace;
|
And grant henceforth that foul Debate,
|
Twixt Noblemen may cease.
|
|
|
|
|
|