The Battle of Otterburn
No: 161; variant: 161A
- YT fell abowght the Lamasse tyde,
Whan husbondes wynnes ther haye,
The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd hym to ryde,
In Ynglond to take a praye.
- The yerlle of Fyffe, wythowghten stryffe,
He bowynd hym over Sulway;
The grete wolde ever to-gether ryde;
That raysse they may rewe for aye.
- Over Hoppertope hyll they cam in,
And so down by Rodclyffe crage:
Vpon Grene Lynton they lyghted dowyn,
Styrande many a stage.
- And boldely brente Northomberlond,
And haryed many a towyn;
They dyd owr Ynglyssh men grete wrange,
To batell that were not bowyn.
- Than spake a berne vpon the bent,
Of comforte that was not colde,
And sayd, We haue brente Northomberlond,
We haue all welth in holde.
- Now we haue haryed all Bamborowe schyre,
All the welth in the worlde haue wee,
I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,
So styll and stalworthlye.
- Vpon the morowe, when it was day,
The standerds schone full bryght;
To the Newe Castell the toke the waye,
And thether they cam full ryght.
- Syr Henry Perssy laye at the New Castell,
I tell yow wythowtten drede;
He had byn a march-man all hys dayes,
And kepte Barwyke vpon Twede.
- To the Newe Castell when they cam,
The Skottes they cryde on hyght,
'Syr Hary Perssy, and thou byste within,
Com to the fylde, and fyght.
- 'For we haue brente Northomberlonde,
Thy erytage good and ryght,
And syne my logeyng I haue take
Wyth my brande dubbyd many a knyght.'
- Syr Harry Perssy cam to the walles,
The Skottyssch oste for to se,
And sayd, And thou hast brente Northomberlond,
Full sore it rewyth me.
- Yf thou hast haryed all Bamborowe schyre,
Thow hast done me grete envye;
For the trespasse thow hast me done,
The tone of vs schall dye.
- 'Where schall I byde the?' sayd the Dowglas,
'Or where wylte thow com to me?'
'At Otterborne, in the hygh way,
[T]her mast thow well logeed be.
- '[T]he roo full rekeles ther sche rinnes,
[T]o make the game a[nd] glee;
'T]he fawken and the fesaunt both,
Among the holtes on hye.
- 'Ther mast thow haue thy welth at wyll,
Well looged ther mast be;
Yt schall not be long or I com the tyll,'
Sayd Syr Harry Perssye.
- 'Ther schall I byde the,' sayd the Dowglas,
'By the fayth of my bodye:'
'Thether schall I com,' sayd Syr Harry Perssy,
'My trowth I plyght to the.'
- A pype of wyne he gaue them over the walles,
For soth as I yow saye;
Ther he mayd the Dowglasse drynke,
And all hys ost that daye.
- The Dowglas turnyd hym homewarde agayne,
For soth withowghten naye;
He toke hys logeyng at Oterborne,
Vpon a Wedynsday.
- And ther he pyght hys standerd dowyn,
Hys getting more and lesse,
And syne he warned hys men to goo
To chose ther geldynges gresse.
- A Skottysshe knyght hoved vpon the bent,
A wache I dare well saye;
So was he ware on the noble Perssy,
In the dawnyng of the daye.
- He prycked to hys pavyleon-dore,
As faste as he myght ronne;
'Awaken, Dowglas,' cryed the knyght,
'For hys love that syttes in trone.
- 'Awaken, Dowglas,' cryed the knyght,
'For thow maste waken wyth wynne;
Yender haue I spyed the prowde Perssye,
And seven stondardes wyth hym.'
- 'Nay by my trowth,' the Dowglas sayed,
'It ys but a fayned taylle;
He durst not loke on my brede banner
For all Ynglonde so haylle.
- 'Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe Castell,
That stondes so fayre on Tyne?
For all the men the Perssy had,
He coude not garre me ones to dyne.'
- He stepped owt at his pavelyon-dore,
To loke and it were lesse:
'Araye yow, lordynges, one and all,
For here bygynnes no peysse.
- 'The yerle of Mentaye, thow arte my eme,
The fowarde I gyve to the:
The yerlle of Huntlay, cawte and kene,
He schall be wyth the.
- 'The lorde of Bowghan, in armure bryght,
On the other hand he schall be;
Lord Jhonstoune and Lorde Maxwell,
They to schall be wyth me.
- 'Swynton, fayre fylde vpon your pryde!
To batell make yow bowen
Syr Davy Skotte, Syr Water Stewarde,
Syr Jhon of Agurstone!'
- The Perssy cam byfore hys oste,
Wych was ever a gentyll knyght;
Vpon the Dowglas lowde can he crye,
'I wyll holde that I haue hyght.
- 'For thou haste brente Northomberlonde,
And done me grete envye;
For thys trespasse thou hast me done,
The tone of vs schall dye.'
- The Dowglas answerde hym agayne,
Wyth grett wurdes vpon hye,
And sayd, I haue twenty agaynst thy one,
Byholde, and thou maste see.
- Wyth that the Perssy was grevyd sore,
For soth as I yow saye;
He lyghted dowyn vpon his foote,
And schoote hys horsse clene awaye.
- Euery man sawe that he dyd soo,
That ryall was euer in rowght;
Euery man schoote hys horsse hym froo,
And lyght hym rowynde abowght.
- Thus Syr Hary Perssye toke the fylde,
For soth as I yow saye;
Jhesu Cryste in hevyn on hyght
Dyd helpe hym well that daye.
- But nyne thowzand, ther was no moo,
The cronykle wyll not layne;
Forty thowsande of Skottes and fowre
That day fowght them agayne.
- But when the batell byganne to ioyne,
In hast ther cam a knyght;
The letters fayre furth hath he tayne,
And thus he sayd full ryght:
- 'My lorde your father he gretes yow well,
Wyth many a noble knyght;
He desyres yow to byde
That he may see thys fyght.
- 'The Baron of Grastoke ys com out of the west,
Wyth hym a noble companye;
All they loge at your fathers thys nyght,
And the batell fayne wolde they see.'
- 'For Jhesus love,' sayd Syr Harye Perssy,
'That dyed for yow and me,
Wende to my lorde my father agayne,
And saye thow sawe me not wyth yee.
- 'My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght,
It nedes me not to layne,
That I schulde byde hym vpon thys bent,
And I haue hys trowth agayne.
- 'And if that I w[e]ynde of thys growende,
For soth, onfowghten awaye,
He wolde me call but a kowarde knyght
In hys londe another daye.
- 'Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente,
By Mary, that mykkel maye,
Then ever my manhood schulde be reprovyd
Wyth a Skotte another day.
- 'Wherfore schote, archars, for my sake,
And let scharpe arowes flee;
Mynstrells, playe vp for your waryson,
And well quyt it schall bee.
- 'Euery man thynke on hys trewe-love,
And marke hym to the Trenite;
For to God I make myne avowe
Thys day wyll I not flee.'
- The blodye harte in the Dowglas armes,
Hys standerde stode on hye,
That euery man myght full well knowe;
By syde stode starre:s thre.
- The whyte lyon on the Ynglyssh perte,
For soth as I yow sayne,
The lucettes and the cressawntes both;
The Skottes favght them agayne.
- Vpon Sent Androwe lowde can they crye,
And thrysse they schowte on hyght,
And syne merked them one owr Ynglysshe men,
As I haue tolde yow ryght.
- Sent George the bryght, owr ladyes knyght,
To name they were full fayne;
Owr Ynglyssh men they cryde on hyght,
And thrysse the schowtte agayne.
- Wyth that scharpe arowes bygan to flee,
I tell yow in sertayne;
Men of armes byganne to joyne,
Many a dowghty man was ther slayne.
- The Perssy and the Dowglas mette,
That ether of other was fayne;
They swapped together whyll that the swette,
Wyth swordes of fyne collayne:
- Tyll the bloode from ther bassonnettes ranne,
As the roke doth in the rayne;
'Yelde the to me,' sayd the Dowglas,
'Or elles thow schalt be slayne.
- 'For I see by thy bryght bassonet,
Thow arte sum man of myght;
And so I do by thy burnysshed brande;
Thow arte an yerle, or elles a knyght.'
- 'By my good faythe,' sayd the noble Perssye,
'Now haste thow rede full ryght;
Yet wyll I never yelde me to the,
Whyll I may stonde and fyght.'
- They swapped together whyll that they swette,
Wyth sworde:s scharpe and long;
Ych on other so faste thee beette,
Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowyn.
- The Perssy was a man of strenghth,
I tell yow in thys stounde;
He smote the Dowglas at the sworde:s length
That he felle to the growynde.
- The sworde was scharpe, and sore can byte,
I tell yow in sertayne;
To the harte he cowde hym smyte,
Thus was the Dowglas slayne.
- The stonderdes stode styll on eke a syde,
Wyth many a grevous grone;
Ther the fowght the day, and all the nyght,
And many a dowghty man was slayne.
- Ther was no freke that ther wolde flye,
But styffely in stowre can stond,
Ychone hewyng on other whyll they myght drye,
Wyth many a bayllefull bronde.
- Ther was slayne vpon the Skotte:s syde,
For soth and sertenly,
Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayne,
That day that he cowde dye.
- The yerlle of Mentaye he was slayne,
Grysely groned vpon the growynd;
Syr Davy Skotte, Syr Water Stewarde,
Syr Jhon of Agurstoune.
- Syr Charlle:s Morrey in that place,
That never a fote wold flee;
Syr Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was,
Wyth the Dowglas dyd he dye.
- Ther was slayne vpon the Skotte:s syde,
For soth as I yow saye,
Of fowre and forty thowsande Scottes
Went but eyghtene awaye.
- Ther was slayne vpon the Ynglysshe syde,
For soth and sertenlye,
A gentell knight, Syr Jhon Fechewe,
Yt was the more pety.
- Syr James Hardbotell ther was slayne,
For hym ther hartes were sore;
The gentyll Lovell ther was slayne,
That the Perssys standerd bore.
- Ther was slayne vpon the Ynglyssh perte,
For soth as I yow saye,
Of nyne thowsand Ynglyssh men
Fyve hondert cam awaye.
- The other were slayne in the fylde;
Cryste kepe ther sowlles from wo!
Seyng ther was so fewe fryndes
Agaynst so many a foo.
- Then on the morne they mayde them beerys
Of byrch and haysell graye;
Many a wydowe, wyth wepyng teyres,
Ther makes they fette awaye.
- Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne,
Bytwene the nyght and the day;
Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyffe,
And the Perssy was lede awaye.
- Then was ther a Scottysh prisoner tayne,
Syr Hewe Mongomery was hys name;
For soth as I yow saye,
He borowed the Perssy home agayne.
- Now let vs all for the Perssy praye
To Jhesu most of myght,
To bryng hys sowlle to the blysse of heven,
For he was a gentyll knyght.