Classic Poem

God prosper long our noble king,
Our liffes and saftyes all!
A woefull hunting once there did
In Chevy Chase befall.

To drive the deere with hound and horn
Erle Pearcy took the way:
The child may rue that is unborne
The hunting of that day!

The stout Erle of Northumberland
A vow to God did make
His pleasure in the Scottish woods
Three sommers days to take,

The cheefest harts in Chevy Chase
To kill and beare away:
These tydings to Erle Douglas came
In Scottland where he lay.

Who sent Erle Pearcy present word
He wold prevent his sport;
The English erle, not fearing that,
Did to the woods resort,

With fifteen hundred bowmen bold,
All chosen men of might,
Who knew ffull well in time of neede
To ayme their shafts arright.

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran
To chase the fallow deere;
On Munday they began to hunt,
Ere daylight did appeare.

And long before high noone they had
A hundred fat buckes slaine;
Then having dined, the drovyers went
To rouze the deare againe.

The bowmen mustered on the hills,
Well able to endure;
Theire backsids all with speciall care
That day were guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods
The nimble deere to take,
That with their cryes the hills and dales
An eccho shrill did make.

Lord Pearcy to the querry went
To view the tender deere;
Quoth he, "Erle Douglas promised once
This day to meete me here;

"But if I thought he wold not come,
Noe longer wold I stay.'
With that a brave younge gentlman
Thus to the erle did say:

"Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,
Hys men in armour bright;
Full twenty hundred Scottish speres
All marching in our sight.

"All men of pleasant Tivydale,
Fast by the river Tweede:'
"O ceaze your sportts!' Erle Pearcy said,
"And take your bowes with speede.

"And now with me, my countrymen,
Your courage forth advance!
For there was never champion yett,
In Scottland nor in Ffrance,

"That ever did on horsbacke come,
But, if my hap it were,
I durst encounter man for man,
With him to breake a spere.'

Erle Douglas on his milk-white steede,
Most like a baron bold,
Rode formost of his company,
Whose armor shone like gold.

"Shew me,' sayd hee, "whose men you bee
That hunt so boldly heere,
That without my consent doe chase
And kill my fallow deere.'

The first man that did answer make
Was noble Pearcy hee,
Who sayd, "Wee list not to declare
Nor shew whose men wee bee;

"Yett wee will spend our deerest blood
Thy cheefest harts to slay.'
Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,
And thus in rage did say:

"Ere thus I will outbraved bee,
One of us tow shall dye;
I know thee well, an erle thou art;
Lord Pearcy, soe am I.

"But trust me, Pearcye, pittye it were,
And great offence, to kill
Then any of these our guiltlesse men,
For they have done none ill.

"Let thou and I the battell trye,
And set our men aside:'
"Accurst bee he!' Erle Pearcye sayd,
"By whome it is denyed.'

Then stept a gallant squire forth--
Witherington was his name--
Who said, "I wold not have it told
To Henery our king, for shame,

"That ere my captaine fought on foote,
And I stand looking on.
You bee two Erles,' quoth Witheringhton
"And I a squier alone;

"I'le doe the best that doe I may,
While I have power to stand;
While I have power to weeld my sword,
I'le fight with hart and hand.'

Our English archers bent their bowes;
Their harts were good and trew:
Att the first flight of arrowes sent,
Full foure score Scotts they slew.

To drive the deere with hound and horne,
Dauglas bade on the bent;
Two captaines moved with mickle might,
Their speres to shivers went.

They closed full fast on every side,
Noe slackness there was found,
But many a gallant gentleman
Lay gasping on the ground.

O Christ! it was great greeve to see
How eche man chose his spere,
And how the blood out of their brests
Did gush like water cleare.

At last these two stout erles did meet,
Like captaines of great might;
Like lyons woode they layd on lode;
They made a cruell fight.

They fought untill they both did sweat,
With sword of tempered steele,
Till blood downe their cheekes like raine
The trickling downe did feele.

"O yeeld thee, Pearcye!' Douglas sayd,
"And in faith I will thee bringe
Where thou shall high advanced bee
By James our Scottish king.

"Thy ransome I will freely give,
And this report of thee,
Thou art the most couragious knight
That ever I did see.'

"Noe, Douglas!' quoth Erle Percy then,
"Thy profer I doe scorne;
I will not yeelde to any Scott
That ever yett was borne!'

With that there came an arrow keene,
Out of an English bow,
Which stroke Erle Douglas on the brest
A deepe and deadlye blow.

Who never sayd more words than these:
"Fight on, my merry men all!
For why, my life is att an end,
Lord Pearcy sees my fall.'

Then leaving liffe, Erle Pearcy tooke
The dead man by the hand;
Who said, "Erle Dowglas, for thy life,
Wold I had lost my hand;

"O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed
For sorrow for thy sake,
For sure, a more redoubted knight
Mischance could never take.'

A knight amongst the Scotts there was
Which saw Erle Douglas dye,
Who streight in hart did vow revenge
Upon the Lord Pearcye.

Sir Hugh Mountgomerye was he called,
Who, with a spere full bright,
Well mounted on a gallant steed,
Ran feircly through the fight,

And past the English archers all,
Without all dread or feare,
And through Erle Percyes body then
He thrust his hatfull spere.

With such a vehement force and might
His body he did gore,
The staff ran through the other side
A large cloth yard and more.

Thus did both those nobles dye,
Whose courage none cold staine;
An English archer then perceived
The noble erle was slaine.

He had a good bow in his hand,
Made of a trusty tree;
An arrow of a cloth yard long
To the hard head haled hee.

Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye
His shaft full right he sett;
The grey goose winge that was there-on
In his harts bloode was wett.

This fight from breake of day did last
Till setting of the sun,
For when they rung the evening-bell
The battele scarse was done.

With stout Erle Percy there was slaine
Sir John of Egerton,
Sir Robert Harcliffe and Sir William,
Sir James, that bold barron.

And with Sir George and Sir James,
Both knights of good account,
Good Sir Raphe Rebbye there was slaine,
Whose prowesse did surmount.

For Witherington needs must I wayle
As one in dolefull dumpes,
For when his leggs were smitten of,
He fought upon his stumpes.

And with Erle Dowglas there was slaine
Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
And Sir Charles Morrell, that from feeld
One foote wold never flee;

Sir Roger Hever of Harcliffe tow,
His sisters sonne was hee;
Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed,
But saved he cold not bee.

And the Lord Maxwell, in like case,
With Douglas he did dye;
Of twenty hundred Scottish speeres,
Scarce fifty-five did flye.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen
Went home but fifty-three;
The rest in Chevy Chase were slaine,
Under the greenwoode tree.

Next day did many widdowes come
Their husbands to bewayle;
They washt their wounds in brinish teares,
But all wold not prevayle.

Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple blood,
They bore with them away;
They kist them dead a thousand times
Ere they were cladd in clay.

The newes was brought to Eddenborrow,
Where Scottlands king did rayne,
That brave Erle Douglas soddainlye
Was with an arrow slaine.

"O heavy newes!' King James can say;
"Scottland may wittenesse bee
I have not any captaine more
Of such account as hee.'

Like tydings to King Henery came,
Within as short a space,
That Pearcy of Northumberland
Was slaine in Chevy Chase.

"Now God be with him!' said our king,
"Sith it will noe better bee;
I trust I have within my realme
Five hundred as good as hee.

"Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say
But I will vengeance take,
And be revenged on them all
For brave Erle Percyes sake.'

This vow the king did well performe
After on Humble-downe;
In one day fifty knights were slayne,
With lords of great renowne.

And of the rest of small account,
Did many hundreds dye:
Thus endeth the hunting in Chevy Chase,
Made by the Erle Pearcye.

God save our king, and blesse this land
With plentye, ioy, and peace,
And grant hencforth that foule debate
Twixt noble men may ceaze!