[42] The battle of Hombyll-down, or Humbledon, (a village near Wooler, in Northumberland) was fought September 14th, 1402, (anno 3, Hen. IV.) where the English, under the command of the Earl of Northumberland, and his son Hotspur, gained a complete victory over the Scots. THE HUNTING IN CHEVY CHASE. This favourite old ballad is founded on the celebrated battle of Otterbourne, as there never was a Percy engaged with a Douglas, but at that time; though the Percy, who commanded at that battle, was not earl of Northumberland, yet he was heir to that title, though he did not live to enjoy it. Ben Johnson used to say, he had rather have been the author of this ballad than of all his works. Sir Philip Sydney says, (in his Discourse of Poetry) “I never heard the old song of Piercy and Douglas, that I found not my heart more moved than with a trumpet; and yet it is sung by some blind crouder, with no rougher voice than rude style; which being so evil apparelled in the dust and cobweb of that uncivil age, what would it work trimmed in the gorgeous eloquence of Pindar?” Addison eulogizes it highly in Nos. 70 and 74 of the Spectator. And in the second volume of Dryden’s Miscellanies, there may be found a translation of Chevy Chase into Latin Rhymes, by Henry Bold, of New College. 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 Percy took his way; The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day. The stout earl of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer’s days to take; The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase To kill and bear away: These tidings to earl Douglas came, In Scotland where he lay; Who sent earl Percy present word, He would prevent his sport: The English earl, not fearing this, Did to the woods resort, With fifteen hundred bowmen bold; All chosen men of might, Who knew full well, in time of need, To aim their shafts aright. The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran, To chase the fallow-deer; On Monday they began to hunt, When day-light did appear; And, long before high-noon, they had A hundred fat bucks slain; Then, having din’d, the drovers went To rouse them up again. The bowmen muster’d on the hills, Well able to endure; Their backsides all, with special care, That day were guarded sure. The hounds ran swiftly through the woods, The nimble deer to take, And with their cries the hills and dales An echo shrill did make. Lord Percy to the quarry went, To view the slaughter’d deer; Quoth he, Earl Douglas promised, This day to meet me here: If that I thought he would not come, No longer would I stay. With that a brave young gentleman Thus to the earl did say: