Rhymes of Northern Bards / Being a Curious Collection of Old and New Songs and Poems, Peculiar to the Counties of Newcastle upon Tyne, Northumberland, and Durham

THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN.

Fought the 9th of August, 1388.

Camden, in his Britannia, page 850, gives the following account of this battle:—“There happened this year, (1388) at Otterburn, in Northumberland, a stout engagement between the Scots and English:—Victory three or four times changing sides, and at last fixing with the Scots; for Henry Piercy, (for his youthful forwardness, by-named Hotspur) who commanded the English, was himself taken prisoner, and lost 1500 of his men; and William Douglass, the Scots general, fell, with the greatest part of his army; so that never was there a greater instance of the martial prowess of both nations.” Sir John Froysart (who lived at that time) gives a full account of this battle, and says, that it was Earl James Douglass who was the Scottish general. See Eachard, Rapin, &c.

From an old MSS.

Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde,

Whan husbondes wynne ther haye,

The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd him to ryde,

In Ynglond to take a praye:

The yerlle of Fyffe, withowghten stryffe,

He bowynd him over Sulway:

The grete wolde ever together ryde,

That raysse they may rewe for aye.

Over ‘Ottercap’ hyll they cam in,

And so dowyn by Rodelyffe crage,

Upon Grene ‘Leyton’ they lyghted dowyn,

’Styrande many a’ stage:

And boldely brente Northomberlonde,

And haryed many a towyn;

They dyd owr Ynglysh men grete wrange,

To battell that were not bowyn.

Than spake a berne upon the bent,

Of comforte that was not colde,

And sayd, we have brente Northomberlonde,

We have all welth in holde.

Now we have haryed all Bamboroweschyre,

All the welth in the worlde have wee,

I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,

So styll and stalwurthlye.

Upon the morrowe, when it was day,

The standerdes schone fulle bryght;

To the Newe Castell the toke the waye,

And thether they cam fulle ryght.

Syr Henry Perssye laye at the Newe Castell,[38]

I tell yow withowtten drede;

He had byn a march-man all hys dayes,

And kept Barwyke upon Twede.

To the Newe Castell when they cam,

The Skottes they cryde on hyght,

Syr Harye Perssye, and thow byste within,

Com to the fylde, and fyght:

For we have brente Northomberlonde,

Thy erytage good and ryght;

And syne my logeyng I have take,

With my brande dubbyd many a knyght.

Syr Harye Perssye cam to the walles,

The Skottysh oste for to se;

And sayd, And thou hast brente Northomberlonde,

Full sore it rewyeth me.

Yf thow hast haryed all Bamboroweschyre,

Thow hast done me grete envye;

For the trespasse thow hast me done,

The tone of us schall dye.

Where schall I byde the, sayd the Dowglasse,

Or where wylte thow com to me?

“At Otterborne in the hygh way,

Ther mast thow well looged be.

The roo full rekeless ther sche runnes,

To make the game and glee:

The fawken and the fesaunt both,

Among the holtes on hye.

Ther mast thow have thy welth at wyll,

Well looged ther mast be;

Yt schall not be long, or I com the tyll,”

Sayd syr Harye Perssye.

Ther schall I byde the, said the Dowglasse,

By the fayth of my bodye.

Thether schall I com, sayd syr Harye Perssye;

My trowth I plyght to the.

A pype of wyne he gave them over the walles,

For soth, as I yow saye,

Ther he myed the Dowglasse drynke,

And all hys ost that daye.

The Dowglasse turnyd hym homewarde agayne,

For soth withowghten naye,

He took hys logeynge at Otterborne

Upon a Wedynsday:

And ther he pyght hys standerd dowyn,

Hys gettyng more and lesse,

And syne he warned hys men to goo,

To chose ther geldynges gresse.

A Skottyshe knyght hoved upon 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 his pavyleon dore,

As fast as he myght ronne,

Awaken, Dowglasse, cryed the knyght,

For hys love that syttes in trone.

Awaken, Dowglasse, cryed the knyght,

For thow maste waken wyth wynne;

Yender have I spyed the prowde Perssye,

And seven standardes wyth hym.

Nay, by my trowth, the Dowglasse sayed,

Yt 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 Perssye had,

He cowde not garr me ones to dyne.

He stepped owt at hys pavelyon dore,

To loke and yt were lesse;

“Araye yow, lordynges, one and all,

For here bygynnes no peysse.

The yerlle of Mentaye, thow art my erne,

The fowarde I gyve to thee:

The yerlle of Huntley cawte and kene,

He schall ‘wyth the be.’

The lorde of Bowghan in armure bryght,

On the other hand he schall be:

Lorde Jhonstone, and lorde Maxwell,

They to schall be wyth me.

Swynton fayre fylde upon your pryde,

To batell make yow bowen:

Syr Davy Skotte, syr Water Stewarde,

Syr Jhon of Agurstone.”

[38] The Scots, in this inroad, lay before Newcastle three days, where there was an almost continual skirmish. Sir Henry Percy, (with his brother, had come to Newcastle, on the intelligence of the Scots being abroad) in one of these skirmishes, lost his pennon or standard; and pledging himself to redeem it, followed the Scots to Otterburn, where the battle took place. See Freysart’s Chronicles.

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