Stories of the Scottish Border — Chapter 11 Otterburn and Chevy Chase

"It fell about the Lammas-tide, When moor-men win their hay, The doughty Douglas bound him to ride Into England, to drive a prey."

The ballads of _Otterbourne_ and _Chevy Chase_ record the Scottish and English versions of a most stubborn Border battle.

Whichever of the two contains the greater amount of truth, it is clear that the day was a bloody one, and that, moreover, it was fought on both sides with a chivalrous admiration for the powers of the other which is characteristic of those strife-loving days.

Sir Philip Sidney wrote of it: "I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas, that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet."

The ballad of _Chevy Chase_ is of later date than its rival, and it contains certainly one misstatement of historical fact, since Hotspur outlived the fight at Chevy Chase (1388) and was slain some fifteen years later at the battle of Shrewsbury (1403).

The Scottish version of the battle of Otterbourne tells us that it was about the Lammas-tide or haymaking time of the year 1388 when the brave Earl of Douglas, with his brother, the Earl of Murray, made a foray into England, with a gay band of Gordons, Graemes, and Lindsays.

He burned Tynedale and half of Bamborough and Otterdale, and marching up to Newcastle, rode round about the castle, crying, "Who is lord of this castle, and who is its lady?"

Then up spake proud Lord Percy, known as _Hotspur_, and said, "I am the lord of this castle, and my wife is the gay lady of it."

"That pleases me well," answered Douglas, "yet, ere I cross the Border hills, one of us shall die."

Then Percy took his long spear, shod with metal, and rode right furiously at the Douglas; but his lady, looking from the castle wall, grew pale as she saw her proud lord go down before the Scottish spear.

"Had we two been alone, with never an eye to see, I would have slain thee, but thy lance I will carry with me," said Douglas, and, to complete the disgrace, this lance bore attached to it the Percy pennon.

"Go then to Otterbourne," said Percy, "and wait there for me, and if I come not before the end of three days, call me a false knight."

"Otterbourne is a pleasant and a bonny place," answered Douglas; "but though the deer run wild among the hills and dales, and the birds fly wild from tree to tree, yet is there neither bread nor kale nor aught else to feed me and my men.

Yet will I wait thee at Otterbourne to give thee welcome, and if thou come not in three days' time, false lord, will I call thee!"

"By the might of Our Lady, I will come," cried the proud Percy.

"And I," answered Douglas, "plight thee my troth that I will meet thee there."

So Douglas and his men encamped at Otterbourne, and sent out their horses to pasture.

But before the peep of dawn, up spake a little page: "Waken ye, waken ye, my good lord; the Percy is upon us!"

"Ye lie, ye lie," shouted Douglas; "yesterday, Percy had not men enough to fight us.

But if thou lie not, the finest bower in Otterbourne shall be thy reward, and if what thou sayest prove false, thou shalt be hanged on the highest tree in Otterbourne.

Yet I have dreamed a dreary dream; I dreamed that a dead man won a battle and that I was that dead man."

So Douglas belted on his good broadsword, and ran to the field, but forgot his helmet, and Percy and the Douglas fought with their swords together till the blood ran down like rain, and the Douglas fell, wounded on the brow.

Then he called to him his little foot-page and told him to run quickly and bring to him his sister's son, Sir Hugh Montgomery.

"My good nephew," said Douglas, "the death of one matters not; last night I dreamed a dreary dream, but yet I know the day is thine.

My wound is deep; take thou the vanguard; bury me in the bracken high that grows on yonder lea, and let no man living know that a Scot lies there.

And know that I am glad to die in battle, like my good forefathers, and not on a bed of sickness."

Montgomery lifted up his noble lord, while his eyes wept salt tears, and hid him in the bracken bush that his followers might not see, and before daylight the Scots slew many a gallant Englishman.

The good Gordons steeped hose and shoes in the blood of the English; the Lindsays flew about like fire till the battle was ended, and Percy and Montgomery fought till the blood ran down between them.

"Now, yield thee, yield thee, Percy," cried Sir Hugh, "or I vow I will lay thee low!"

"Since it must be so," quoth Earl Percy, "to whom shall I yield?"

"Thou shalt not yield to me or to any lord, but to the bracken bush that grows on yonder lea!"

"I will not yield to briar or bracken bush, but I would yield to Lord Douglas or to Sir Hugh Montgomery, if he were here."

Then Montgomery made himself known, and as soon as Percy knew that it was Montgomery, he struck the point of his sword into the ground, and Montgomery, who was a courteous knight, took him up by the hand.

This deed was done at Otterbourne at daybreak, where Earl Douglas was buried by the bracken bush, and Percy led captive into Scotland, and it is said that Hotspur, for his ransom, built for Montgomery the castle of Penoon, in Ayrshire.

But the English version of these stirring events can also claim to be heard; the ballad upon it is called _Chevy Chase_, which means the Chase on the Cheviots; and so popular was this ballad that its name was given to a boys' game, which is so called even to this day.

It tells how the Percy, from his castle in Northumberland, vowed that within three days he would hunt on the mountains of Cheviot in spite of the doughty Douglas and his men, and that he would kill and carry away the fattest deer in Cheviot.

"By my faith," said Douglas, when he heard of the boast, "but I will hinder his hunting."

Percy left Bamborough Castle with a mighty company, no less than fifteen hundred bold archers chosen out of three shires.

The foray began on a Monday morning in the high Cheviot Hills, and many a child yet unborn was to rue the day.

The drivers went through the woods and raised the deer, and the bowmen shot them with their broad arrows.

Then the wild deer rushed through the woods, only to be met and killed by the greyhounds, and before noontide a hundred fat deer lay dead.

The bugles sounded, "A mort!"

and on all sides Percy and his men assembled to see the cutting up of the venison.

Said Percy: "The Douglas promised to meet me here this day, yet right well did I know that he would fail."

But a Northumberland squire saw the doughty Douglas coming with a mighty company, with spear and batter-axe and sword.

Never were men hardier of heart and hand seen in Christendom--two thousand spearmen born along the banks of the Tweed and Teviotdale.

Then said Lord Percy: "Now leave off the cutting of the deer, and take good heed to your bows, for never had ye more need of them since ye were born."

Earl Douglas rode before his men, his armour glittering like a burning coal, and never was such a bold baron.

"Tell me whose men ye are," said he, "and who gave ye leave to hunt in Cheviot without word asked of me?"

Then answered Lord Percy, "We will not tell thee whose men we are, and we will hunt here in spite of thee.

We have killed the fattest harts in Cheviot and will carry them away."

"By my troth," said Douglas, "one of us shall die this day.

Yet it were great pity to kill all these guiltless men.

Thou, Percy, art a lord of land, and I am called an earl in my country; let our men stand by, and we will fight together."

"Now a curse on his crown, who says nay to that," cried Lord Percy.

"By my troth, Douglas, thou shalt never see the day either in England, Scotland, or France, when I fear to meet one, man to man."

Then spoke Richard Witherington, a squire of Northumberland.

"Never shall this be told in England, to the shame of good King Harry the Fourth.

I wot ye be two great lords, and I but a poor squire, yet would I never stand and look on while my captain fought.

While I can wield a weapon, I will not fail, both heart and hand."

So the English with good heart bent their bows, and slew seven score spearmen with the first arrows they shot.

Earl Douglas stayed on the field, but that he was a good captain was truly seen, for he wrought great woe and mischief.

He parted his host in three like a proud chieftain, and they came in on every side with their mighty spears, wounding the English archers and slaying many a brave man.

Then the English pulled out their brands, and it was a heavy sight to see the bright swords light on the helmets, striking through the rich mail, and the cloth of many folds under it, and laying many low.

At last the Douglas and the Percy met and fought with swords of Milan steel till the blood spurted like rain and hail from their helmets.

"Hold thee, Percy," said Douglas, "and I will bring thee to James, our Scottish king, where thou shalt have an earl's wages and free ransom, for thou art the manfullest man that ever yet I conquered fighting in the field."

"Nay, then," said Lord Percy.

"I told thee before that never would I yield to any man of woman born."

With that there came an arrow hastily from a mighty man, and struck Earl Douglas through the breast bone, and never more did he speak a word but only this: "Fight, my merry men, while ye may--my life's days are done."

Then Percy leaned on his hand, and when he saw the Douglas die, he said, "Woe is me.

I would have parted with my land for three years to have saved thy life, for a better man of heart and hand was not in all the north country."

But Sir Hugh Montgomery, a Scottish knight, when he saw the Douglas done to death, grasped a spear and rode through a hundred archers, never slackening his pace till he came to Lord Percy, whom he set upon, sending his mighty spear clean through his body, so that a man might see a long cloth-yard and more at the other side.

There were no two better captains in Christendom than were that day slain.

When one of the Northumberland archers saw this, he drew an arrow to his bow and set upon Montgomery, until the swan feathers of his arrows were wet with his heart's blood.

Not one man gave way, but still they stood hewing at each other, while they were able.

This battle began in Cheviot, an hour before noon, nor was it half done at evensong, but they fought on by moonlight though many had scarce the strength to stand.

Of fifteen hundred English archers only fifty-three remained, and of two thousand Scottish spearmen only fifty-five remained, all the rest being slain in Cheviot.

With Lord Percy were slain, Sir John of Agerstone, Sir Roger the gentle Hartly, Sir William the bold Heron, Sir George the worthy Lovel, a renowned knight, and Sir Ralph the rich Rugby.

Woe was it that Witherington was slain, for when both his legs were hewn in two he kneeled and fought on his knees.

With the brave Douglas were slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, and worthy Sir Davy Liddle, that was his sister's son; Sir Charles, a Murray who refused to flee, and Sir Hugh Maxwell.

On the morrow they made biers of birch and grey hazel, and many widows bore weeping from the field the bodies of their dead husbands.

Well may Teviotdale and Northumberland wail and moan for two such great captains.

Word came to James the Scottish king at Edinburgh, that the brave Douglas, Lieutenant of the Marches, lay slain in Cheviot, and he wept and wrung his hands, and said, "Alas!

Woe is me; there will never be such another captain in Scotland."

Word came also to London, to Harry the Fourth, that Lord Percy, Lieutenant of the Marches, lay slain in Cheviot.

"God have mercy on his soul," said King Harry; "I have a hundred captains in England as good as he, yet I wager my life that his death shall be well avenged"; and this vow he kept, at the Battle of Homildon Hill, where he beat down six and thirty Scottish knights on one day.

But so real to the Borderers was their grief over their dead that the ballad ends with a quaint but heartfelt appeal to the Prince of Peace:-- "Jesus Christ our ills abate, And to His bliss us bring!

Thus was the hunting of the Cheviot;

God send us all good ending!"

*Chapter XII*