to that of Douglas. He had already crossed the Reed water, and was advancing towards the left flank of the Scottish army. Douglas, not choosing to receive the assault in that position, drew his men out of the camp, and with a degree of military skill which could scarce have been expected when his forces were of such an undisciplined character, he altogether changed the position of the army, and presented his troops with their front to the advancing English.

Hotspur, in the mean time, marched his squadrons through the deserted camp, where there were none left but a few servants and stragglers of the army. The interruptions which the English troops met with threw them a little into disorder, when the moon arising shewed them the Scottish army which they had supposed to be retreating, drawn up in complete orer, and prepared to fight. The battle commenced ith the greatest fury; for Percy and Douglas were he two most distinguished soldiers of their time, and each arrested in the courage and talents of their hose names were shouted on either side. were outnumbered, were at length y, when Douglas, their leader, caused vance, attended by his best men. He g his war-cry of "Douglas!" rushed

tish nobles pressed forward, and found their general dying among several of his faithful esquires and pages, who lay slain around. A stout priest, called William of North Berwick, the chaplain of Douglas, was protecting the body of his wounded patron with a long lance.

"How fares it, cousin?" said Sinclair, the first Scottish knight who came up to the expiring leader.

"Indifferently," answered Douglas; "but blessed be God, my ancestors have died in fields of battle, not on down-beds. I sink fast; but let them still cry my war-cry, and conceal my death from my followers. There was a tradition in our family that a dead Douglas should win a field, and I trust it will be this day accomplished."

The nobles did as he had enjoined; they concealed the Earl's body, and again rushed on to the battle, shouting "Douglas! Douglas!" louder than before. The English were weakened by the loss of the brave brothers, Henry and Ralph Percy, both of whom were made prisoners, fighting most gallantly, and almost no man of note amongst the English escaped death or captivity. Hence, a Scottish poet (Home) has said of the name of Douglas,

"Hosts have been known at that dread sound to yield, And, Douglas dead, his name hath won the field."*

Sir Henry Percy became the prisoner of Sir Hugh Montgomery, who obliged him for ransom to build a

* He was buried at Melrose beneath the high altar. "His

castle for him at Penoon in Ayrshire. The battle of Otterburn was disastrous to the leaders on both sides -Percy being made captive, and Douglas slain on the field. It has been the subject of many songs and poems, and the great historian Froissart says, that, one other action only excepted, it was the best fought battle of that warlike time.

OLD BARONIAL MANSION, GARDENS, AND CHASE.

THE passionate fondness of our ancestors for the chase is often manifested in their choice of a residence. In an ancient inscription on the house of Wharncliffe, we are informed that the lodge was built in Henry VIII.'s time, by one gentle knight, Sir Thomas Wortley, that he might hear the buck bell in the summer season-a simple record which speaks much to the imagination. The space of ground set apart for a

obsequye was done reverently, and on his bodye layde a tombe of stone, and his baner hangyng over him."-Froissart.

"Full many a scutcheon and banner riven,
Shook to the cold night-wind of heaven,
Around the screened altar's pale;

And there the dying lamps did burn,
Before thy low and lonely urn.

O gallant chief of Otterburn!

And thine, dark Knight of Liddesdale!

O fading honours of the dead!

O high ambition, lowly laid!"

Lay of the Last Minstrel.

park of deer, must, to answer its purpose, possess the picturesque qualities which afford the greatest scope for the artist; there ought to be a variety of broken ground, of copse-wood, and of growing timber-of land, and of water. The soil and herbage must be left in its natural state; the long fern, amongst which the fawns delight to repose, must not be destroyed. In short, the stag, by nature one of the freest denizens of the forest, can only be kept under even comparative restraint by taking care that all around him intimates a complete state of forest and wilderness. But the character of abode which is required by these noble animals of the chase is precisely the same which, from its beautiful effects of light and shadow, from its lonely and sequestered character, from the variety and intricacy of its glades, from the numerous and delightful details which it affords on every point, makes the strongest and most pleasing impression on all who are alive to natural beauty. The ancient English poets, Chaucer and Spenser in particular, never luxuriate more than when they get into a forest: by the accuracy with which they describe particular trees, and from their noticing the different characters of the different species, and the various effects of light and darkness upon the walks and glades of the forest, it is evident that they regarded woodland scenery not merely as associated with their favourite sports, but as having in itself beauties which they could appreciate, though their age was not possessed of the fascinating art of committing them to canvass. Even the common people seldom mention "the good forest," and "the merry green-wood," without some expression of fond