The Battle Of Otterburn Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B C D E DFDF GHDF EIEI DEIE DDDD JHK DDDD KDBD LDED DDM BBDH JDE B DH BHND HH D BDB BDMD EDED EBMB DDBD JEDE DED DHJH HED JBHB HOEO DHHH DED DDDD DDE EDE JDDD BDJD DDDD BEJE EDED HDDD DDD BHEH DEDE DHDH DHDH MHEH GDD BHDJ DENE HDED DEDE HEEE DEDE EEBE DDD HDO DMDE ODOD DEDE DEDE HDHD DHEH EDDE BHBH DHBH DHDD EJEJ DHEH DDBB BHBH EHBH EHHE HHEH

The Text is given mainly from the Cotton MS Cleopatra C iv circa It was printed by Percy in the fourth edition of the Reliques in the first edition he gave it from Harleian MS which text also is made use of here A separate Scottish ballad was popular at least as early as and arguments to prove that it was derived from the English ballad are as inconclusive as those which seek to prove the oppositeA
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The Story The battle of Otterburn was fought on Wednesday August The whole story is given elaborately by Froissart in his usual lively style but is far too long to be inserted here It may however be condensed as followsB
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The great northern families of Neville and Percy being at variance owing to the quarrels of Richard II with his uncles the Scots took the advantage of preparing a raid into England Earl Percy hearing of this collected the Northumbrian powers and unable to withstand the force of the Scots determined to make a counter raid on the east or west of the border according as the Scots should cross The latter hearing of the plan through a spy foiled it by dividing their army into two parts the main body under Archibald Douglas being directed to Carlisle Three or four hundred picked men at arms with two thousand archers and others under James Earl of Douglas Earl of March and Dunbar and the Earl of Murray were to aim at Newcastle and burn and ravage the bishopric of Durham With the latter alone we are now concernedC
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With his small army the Earl of Douglas passed rapidly through Northumberland crossed the Tyne near Brancepeth wasted the country as far as the gates of Durham and returned to Newcastle as rapidly as they had advanced Several skirmishes took place at the barriers of the town and in one of these Sir Henry Percy Hotspur was personally opposed to Douglas After an obstinate struggle the Earl won the pennon of the English leader and boasted that he would carry it to Scotland and set it high on his castle of Dalkeith 'That ' cried Hotspur 'no Douglas shall ever do and ere you leave Northumberland you shall have small cause to boast ' 'Your pennon ' answered Douglas 'shall this night be placed before my tent come and win it if you can ' But the Scots were suffered to retreat without any hostile attempts on the part of the English and accordingly after destroying the tower of Ponteland they came on the second day to the castle of Otterburn situated in Redesdale about thirty two miles from Newcastle The rest may be read in the balladD
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'Of all the battayles ' says Froissart 'that I have made mention of here before in all thys hystorye great or small thys battayle was one of the sorest and best foughten without cowards or faint hertes for ther was nother knyght nor squyre but that dyde hys devoyre and fought hand to hand '-
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THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURNE
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Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tydeD
Whan husbondes Wynnes ther hayeF
The dowghtye Dowglasse bowynd hym to rydeD
In Ynglond to take a prayeF
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The yerlle of Fyffe wythowghten stryffeG
He bowynd hym over SulwayH
The grete wolde ever to gether rydeD
That raysse they may rewe for ayeF
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Over Hoppertope hyll they cam inE
And so down by Rodclyffe crageI
Vpon Grene Lynton they lyghted dowynE
Styrande many a stageI
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And boldely brente NorthomberlondD
And haryed many a towynE
They dyd owr Ynglyssh men grete wrangeI
To battell that were not bowynE
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Than spake a berne vpon the bentD
Of comforte that was not coldeD
And sayd 'We have brente NorthomberlondD
We have all welth in holdeD
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'Now we have haryed all Bamborowe schyreJ
All the welth in the world have weeH
I rede we ryde to Newe CastellK
So styll and stalworthlye '-
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Vpon the morowe when it was dayD
The standerds schone full bryghtD
To the Newe Castell the toke the wayeD
And thether they cam full ryghtD
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Syr Henry Perssy laye at the New CastellK
I tell yow wythowtten dredeD
He had byn a march man all hys dayesB
And kepte Barwyke upon TwedeD
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To the Newe Castell when they camL
The Skottes they cryde on hyghtD
'Syr Hary Perssy and thow byste withinE
Com to the fylde and fyghtD
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'For we have brente NorthomberlondeD
Thy erytage good and ryghtD
And syne my logeyng I have takeM
Wyth my brande dubbyd many a knyght '-
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Syr Harry Perssy cam to the wallesB
The Skottyssch oste for to seB
And sayd 'And thow hast brente NorthomberlondD
Full sore it rewyth meH
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'Yf thou hast haryed all Bamborowe schyreJ
Thow hast done me grete envyeD
For the trespasse thow hast me doneE
The tone of vs schall dye '-
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'Where schall I byde the ' sayd the DowglasB
'Or where wylte thow com to me '-
'At Otterborne in the hygh wayD
Ther mast thow well logeed beH
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'The roo full rekeles ther sche rinnesB
To make the game and gleeH
The fawken and the fesaunt bothN
Amonge the holtes on hyeD
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'Ther mast thow haue thy welth at wyllH
Well looged ther mast beH
Yt schall not be long or I com the tyll '-
Sayd Syr Harry PerssyeD
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'Ther schall I byde the ' sayd the DowglasB
'By the fayth of my bodye'D
'Thether schall I com ' sayd Syr Harry PerssyB
'My trowth I plyght to the '-
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A pype of wyne he gaue them over the wallesB
For soth as I yow sayeD
Ther he mayd the Dowglasse drynkeM
And all hys ost that dayeD
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The Dowglas turnyd hym homewarde agayneE
For soth withowghten nayeD
He toke his logeyng at OterborneE
Vpon a WedynsdayD
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And ther he pyght hys standerd dowynE
Hys gettyng more and lesseB
And syne he warned hys men to gooM
To chose ther geldynges gresseB
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A Skottysshe knyght hoved vpon the bentD
A wache I dare well sayeD
So was he ware on the noble PerssyB
In the dawnyng of the dayeD
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He prycked to hys pavyleon doreJ
As faste as he myght ronneE
'Awaken Dowglas ' cryed the knyghtD
'For hys love that syttes in troneE
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'Awaken Dowglas ' cryed the knyghtD
'For thow maste waken wyth wynneE
Yender haue I spyed the prowde PerssyeD
And seven stondardes wyth hym '-
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'Nay by my trowth ' the Dowglas sayedD
'It ys but a fayned taylleH
He durst not loke on my brede bannerJ
For all Ynglonde so haylleH
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'Was I not yesterdaye at the Newe CastellH
That stondes so fayre on TyneE
For all the men the Perssy hadD
He coude not garre me ones to dyne '-
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He stepped owt at his pavelyon doreJ
To loke and it were lesseB
'Araye yow lordynges one and allH
For here begynnes no peysseB
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'The yerle of Mentaye thow arte my emeH
The fowarde I gyve to theO
The yerlle of Huntlay cawte and keneE
He schall be wyth theO
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'The lorde of Bowghan in armure bryghtD
On the other hand he schall beH
Lord Jhonstoune and Lorde MaxwellH
They to schall be with meH
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'Swynton fayre fylde vpon your prydeD
To batell make yow bowenE
Syr Davy Skotte Syr Water StewardeD
Syr Jhon of Agurstone '-
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The Perssy cam byfore hys osteD
Wych was ever a gentyll knyghtD
Vpon the Dowglas lowde can he cryeD
'I wyll holde that I haue hyghtD
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'For thou haste brente NorthomberlondeD
And done me grete envyeD
For thys trespasse thou hast me doneE
The tone of vs schall dye '-
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The Dowglas answerde hym agayneE
Wyth grett wurdes vpon hyeD
And sayd 'I have twenty agaynst thy oneE
Byholde and thou maste see '-
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Wyth that the Perssy was grevyd soreJ
For soth as I yow sayeD
He lyghted dowyn vpon his footeD
And schoote hys horsse clene awayeD
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Every man sawe that he dyd sooB
That ryall was ever in rowghtD
Every man schoote hys horsse hym frooJ
And lyght hym rowynde abowghtD
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Thus Syr Hary Perssye toke the fyldeD
For soth as I yow sayeD
Jhesu Cryste in hevyn on hyghtD
Dyd helpe hym well that dayeD
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But nyne thowzand ther was no mooB
The cronykle wyll not layneE
Forty thowsande of Skottes and fowreJ
That day fowght them agayneE
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But when the batell byganne to joyneE
In hast ther cam a knyghtD
The letters fayre furth hath he tayneE
And thus he sayd full ryghtD
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'My lorde your father he gretes yow wellH
Wyth many a noble knyghtD
He desyres yow to bydeD
That he may see thys fyghtD
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'The Baron of Grastoke ys com out of the westD
With hym a noble companyeD
All they loge at your fathers thys nyghtD
And the batell fayne wolde they see '-
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'For Jhesus love ' sayd Syr Harye PerssyB
'That dyed for yow and meH
Wende to my lorde my father agayneE
And saye thow sawe me not wyth yeeH
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'My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyghtD
It nedes me not to layneE
That I schalde byde hym upon thys bentD
And I have hys trowth agayneE
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'And if that I weynde of thys growendeD
For soth onfowghten awayeH
He wolde me call but a kowarde knyghtD
In hys londe another dayeH
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'Yet had I lever to be rynde and renteD
By Mary that mykkel mayeH
Then ever my manhood schulde be reprovydD
Wyth a Skotte another dayeH
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'Wherefore schote archars for my sakeM
And let scharpe arowes fleeH
Mynstrell playe up for your warysonE
And well quyt it schall beeH
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'Every man thynke on hys trewe loveG
And marke hym to the TreniteD
For to God I make myne avoweD
Thys day wyll I not flee '-
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The blodye harte in the Dowglas armesB
Hys standerde stood on hyeH
That every man myght full well knoweD
By syde stode starr s threJ
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The whyte lyon on the Ynglyssh perteD
For soth as I yow sayneE
The lucettes and the cressawntes bothN
The Skottes faught them agayneE
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Vpon Sent Androwe lowde can they cryeH
And thrysse they schowte on hyghtD
And syne merked them one owr Ynglysshe menE
As I haue tolde yow ryghtD
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Sent George the bryght owr ladyes knyghtD
To name they were full fayneE
Owr Ynglyssh men they cryde on hyghtD
And thrysse the schowtte agayneE
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Wyth that scharpe arowes bygan to fleeH
I tell yow in sertayneE
Men of armes byganne to joyneE
Many a dowghty man was ther slayneE
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The Perssy and the Dowglas metteD
That ether of other was fayneE
They swapped together whyll that the swetteD
Wyth swordes of fyne collayneE
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Tyll the bloode from ther bassonnettes ranneE
As the roke doth in the rayneE
'Yelde the to me ' sayd the DowglasB
'Or elles thow schalt be slayneE
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'For I see by thy bryght bassonetD
Thow arte sum man of myghtD
And so I do by thy burnysshed brandeD
Thow arte an yerle or elles a knyght '-
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'By my good faythe ' sayd the noble PerssyeH
'Now haste thou rede full ryghtD
Yet wyll I never yelde me to theO
Whyll I may stonde and fyght '-
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They swapped together whyll that they swetteD
Wyth sword s scharpe and longM
Ych on other so faste thee beetteD
Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowynE
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The Perssy was a man of strenghthO
I tell yow in thys stoundeD
He smote the Dowglas at the swordes lengthO
That he fell to the growyndeD
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The sworde was scharpe and sore can byteD
I tell yow in sertayneE
To the harte he cowde hym smyteD
Thus was the Dowglas slayneE
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The stonderdes stode styll on eke a sydeD
Wyth many a grevous groneE
Ther the fowght the day and all the nyghtD
And many a dowghty man was slayneE
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Ther was no freke that ther wolde flyeH
But styffely in stowre can stondD
Ychone hewyng on other whyll they myght dryeH
Wyth many a bayllefull brondeD
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Ther was slayne vpon the Skott s sydeD
For soth and sertenlyH
Syr James a Dowglas ther was slayneE
That day that he cowde dyeH
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The yerlle of Mentaye he was slayneE
Grysely groned upon the growyndD
Syr Davy Skotte Syr Water StewardeD
Syr Jhon of AgurstouneE
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Syr Charll s Morrey in that placeB
That never a fote wold fleeH
Syr Hewe Maxwell a lord he wasB
Wyth the Dowglas dyd he dyeH
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Ther was slayne upon the Skott s sydeD
For soth as I yow sayeH
Of fowre and forty thowsande ScottesB
Went but eyghtene awayeH
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Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe sydeD
For soth and sertenlyeH
A gentell knyght Syr Jhon FecheweD
Yt was the more petyD
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Syr James Hardbotell ther was slayneE
For hym ther hartes were soreJ
The gentyll Lovell ther was slayneE
That the Perssys standerd boreJ
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Ther was slayne upon the Ynglyssh perteD
For soth as I yow sayeH
Of nyne thowsand Ynglyssh menE
Fyve hondert cam awayeH
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The other were slayne in the fyldeD
Cryste kepe ther sowlles from woD
Seyng ther was so fewe fryndesB
Agaynst so many a fooB
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Then on the morne they mayde them beerysB
Of byrch and haysell grayeH
Many a wydowe wyth wepyng teyresB
Ther makes they fette awayeH
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Thys fraye bygan at OtterborneE
Bytwene the nyght and the dayH
Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyffeB
And the Perssy was lede awayeH
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Then was ther a Scottysh prisoner tayneE
Syr Hewe Mongomery was hys nameH
For soth as I yow sayeH
He borowed the Perssy home agayneE
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Now let us all for the Perssy prayeH
To Jhesu most of myghtH
To bryng hys sowlle to the blysse of hevenE
For he was a gentyll knyghtH

Frank Sidgwick



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