A "chevauchée" (corrupted into Chevy Chase) is the French word for a raid over the enemy's border. It represented such attacks as were often made by the Scots against England. The famous battle of Otterburn, in 1388, came of a "chevauchée." The corrupted name was translated into the "Hunting of the Cheviot," a confusion easily made, since there are Cheviot Hills in Northumberland as well as in Otterburn. In the oldest extant version of "Chevy Chase," the name means "the Cheviot hunting-ground." It is claimed that the old ballad of "The Hunting of the Cheviot" has priority over this, which is probably not older than the time of James I. It is the version of which Addison said, "The old song of Chevy Chase is the favorite ballad of the common people of England; and Ben Jonson used to say he had rather been the author of it than of all his works." God prosper long our noble king, Our lives and safeties all! A woeful hunting once there did In Chevy Chase befall. To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Piercy took his way: The hunting of that day! The stout Earl of Northumberland The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase Who sent Earl Piercy present word With fifteen hundred bowmen bold, The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran And long before high noon they had The bowmen mustered on the hills, Well able to endure; And all their rear with special care That day was guarded sure. The hounds ran swiftly through the woods And with their cries the hills and dales Earl Piercy to the quarry went Quoth he, "Earl Douglas promised once 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 This news was brought to Edinburgh, Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly Was with an arrow slain. "Oh, heavy news!" King James did say; "Scotland can witness be I have not any captain more Like tidings to King Henry came "Now God be with him!" said our king, "Sith 'twill no better be; I trust I have within my realm "Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say But I will vengeance take, And be revengéd on them all For brave Lord Piercy's sake." This vow full well the king performed In one day fifty knights were slain, And of the rest, of small account, Thus ended the hunting in Chevy Chase God save the King, and bless the land SIR PATRICK SPENS. ANONYMOUS. There has been much dispute as to the historical grounds for This ballad, styled by Coleridge "the grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spens." The weight of testimony is in favor of its referring to the fate of an expedition which in 1281 carried one Lady Margaret to Norway, as the bride of King Eric. Mr. Robert Chambers translates from Fordoun this account of the incident: "In 1281, Margaret, daughter of Alexander III, was married to the King of Norway; leaving Scotland on the last day of July, she was conveyed thither in noble style, in comany with many knights and nobles. In returning home, after the celebration of her nuptials, the Abbot of Balmerinock, BerBard of Monte-Alto, and many other persons were drowned." But why, if the expedition sailed "the last day of July," should Sir Patrick object to "the time of the year?" Perhaps the best answer will be, We must not hold ballad-makers to too strict an account. Percy's version differs considerably from the following, which will be found to conform pretty closely to Walter Scott's edition, "made up from two MS. copies, collated with several verses recited by a friend." The versions given by Scott, Jamieson, Buchan, Motherwell, Allingham, and Roberts all seem to differ. The king sits in Dunfermline town, Then up and spake an eldern knight, The king has written a braid lettér, "To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou maun bring her hame." The first line that Sir Patrick read, "Oh wha is this has done this deed, Has tauld the king o' me, To send us out at this time o' the year To sail upon the sea? "Be 't wind or weet, be 't hail or sleet, Our ship maun sail the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we maun fetch her hame." They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; And they ha'e landed in Noroway Upon a Wodensday. They hadna been a week, a week, A skilful captain. |