The Tragedy of Edmund, Duke of Somerset, Slain at the First Battle of St Albans

Some I suppose are borne vnfortunate,
Els good endeuours could not ill succede,
What shall I call it? ill fortune or fate,
That some men’s attempts haue neuer good speede,
Their trauaile thankles, all booteles their heede,
Where other vnlike in working or skill,
But wrestle the world, and wyeld it at will.

Of the first nombre I count my selfe one,
To all mishap I weene predestinate,
Beleeue mee, Baldwine, there bee fewe or none,
To whome fortune was euer more ingrate:
Make thou, therefore, my life a caueat:
That who so with force will worke against kinde,
Sayleth (as who sayth) agaynst the streame and winde.

For I of Somerset [which] duke Edmund hight,
Extract by discent from Lancaster lyne,
Were it by folly, or fortune’s despite,
Or by ill aspect of some crooked signe,
Of mine attempts could neuer see good fine:
What so I began did seldome well end:
God from such fortune all good men defend.

Where I thought to saue, most part did I spill,
For good hap with mee was alway at warre:
The linage of Yorke whom I bare so ill,
By my spite became bright as the morning starre,
Thus somewhiles men make when faine they would mar,
The more yee lop trees the greater they growe,
The more ye stop streames, the higher they flowe.

Maugre my spite, his glory grewe the more,
And mine, as the mone in the wane, waxt lesse:
For hauing the place which hee had before,
Gouernour of Fraunce, needes I must confesse,
That lost was Normandy without redresse,
Yet wrought I alwayes that wit might contriue,
But what doth it boote with the streame to striue?

Borne was I neither to warre ne to peace,
For Mars was maligne to all my whole trade:
My byrth I beleue was in Ioue’s decrease,
When Cancer in his course being retrograde,
Declined from Sol to Saturnus’ shade,
Where aspectes were good, opposites did marre,
So grewe mine vnhap both in peace and warre.

A straunge natiuity in calculation,
As all my liue’s course did after well declare,
Whereof in briefe to make relation,
That other by mee may learne to beware,
Ouerlight credence was cause of my care,
And want of foresight in gieuing assent
To condemne Humfrey that duke innocent.

Humfrey I meane that was the protectour,
Duke of Glocester, of the royall bloud,
So long as hee was England’s directour,
King Henrie’s title to the crowne was good:
This prince as a piller most stedfastly stood,
Or like a prop set vnder a vyne,
In state to vpholde all Lancaster’s lyne.

O heedeles trust, vnware of harme to come,
O malice headlong, swift to serue fond will,
Did euer madnes man so much benome
Of prudent forecast, reason, wit, and skill,
As mee, blinde bayard, consenting to spill
The bloud of my cosin, my refuge and stay,
To my destruction making open way?

So long as the duke bare the stroke and sway,
So long no rebels quarels durst begin:
But when the post was pulled once away,
Which stoode to vphold the king and his kin,
Yorke and his banders prowdly preased in
To chalenge the crowne, by title of right,
Beginning with lawe and ending with might.

Abroad went bruits in countrey and towne,
That Yorke of England was the heyr true,
And how Henry had vsurped the crowne
Agaynst all right, which all the realme might rue:
The people then embracing titles newe,
Yrkesome of present and longing for chaunge,
Assented soone because they loue to raunge.

True is the text which wee in scripture reade,
Væ terra illi, cuius rex est puer,
Woe to that land whereof a child is head,
Whether child or childish, the case is one sure:
Where kinges be yong, wee dayly see in vre,
The people awlesse, by weakenes of theyr head,
Lead theyr liues lawlesse, hauing none to dread.

And no lesse true is this text agayne,
Beata terra cuius rex est nobilis:
Blest is the land where a stout king doth rayne,
Where in good peace ech man possesseth his,
Where ill men feare to faut or doe amisse,
Where a stout prince is prest, with sworde in hand,
At home and abroad his enemies to withstand.

In case king Henry had beene such a one,
Hardy and stout, as his fathers afore,
Long mought bee haue sate in the royall throne,
Without any feare of common vprore:
But dayly his weakenesse shewed more and more,
Which bouldnesse gaue to the aduersary band,
To spoyle him at last both of life and land.

His humble heart was nothing vnknowen,
To the gallants of Yorke and theyr retinue:
A ground lying lowe is soone ouerflowen,
And shored houses cannot long continue:
Joyntes cannot knit whereas is no synowe:
And so a prince, not dread as well as loued,
Is from his place by practise soone remoued.

Well mought I see, had I not wanted brayne,
The worke begon to vndermyne the state,
When the chiefe linke was loosed fro the chayne,
And that some durst vpon bloud royall grate:
How tickle a hold had I of mine estate?
When the chiefe post lay flat vpon the flore,
Mought not I thinke my staffe then next the dore.

So mought I also dame Margaret the queene,
By meane of whom this mischiefe first began,
Did she (trow ye) her selfe not ouerweene,
Death to procure to that most worthy man?
Which she and hers afterward mought well ban,
On whom did hang (as I before haue sayde)
Her husband’s life, his honour, and his ayde.

For whilst hee liued, which was our stable stay,
Yorke and his ympes were kept as vnder yoke,
But when the piller remoued was away,
Then burst out flame, that late before was smoke,
The traytour couert then cast of his cloake,
And from his den came forth in open light,
With titles blinde which he set forth for right.

But this to bring about, him first behoued
The king and his kin asonder for to set:
Who being perforce or practise remoued,
Then had they avoyded the principall let,
Which kept the sought pray so long from the net:
The next poynt after, was, themselues to place
In rule aboue the rest, next vnto his grace.

Therefore was I first whome they put out of place
No cause pretending but the common weale,
The crown of England was the very case,
Why to the commons they burned so in zeale:
My faultes were cloakes theyr practise to conceale,
In counsayle hearing consider the intent,
For in pretence of truth treason oft is ment.

So theyr pretence was only to remoue
Counsayle corrupt from place about the king:
But, O ye princes, you it doth behoue
This case to construe as no fayned thing,
That neuer traytour did subdue his king,
But for his plat, ere hee could furder wade,
Against his friendes the quarell first hee made.

And if by hap hee could so bring about,
Them to subdue at his owne wish and will,
Then would hee waxe so arrogant, and stout,
That no reason his outrage might fulfill
But to proceede vpon his purpose still,
Til king and counsayle brought were in one case:
Such is theyr folly to rebells to gieue place.

So for the fish casting forth a net,
The next poynt was in driuing out the plat,
Commons to cause in rage to fume and fret,
And to rebell, I cannot tell for what,
Requiring redresse of this, and of that:
Who if they speede, the stander at receyt
Grasp will the pray, for which hee doth awayt.

Then by surmise of some thing pretended,
Such to displace as they may well suspect,
Like to withstand theyr mischiefe entended,
And in theyr roumes theyr banders to elect,
The aduerse party prowdly to reiect,
And then with reportes the simple to abuse,
And when these helpes fayle, open force to vse.

So this duke’s traynes were couert and not seene,
Which ment no lesse, that hee most pretended,
Like to a serpent couert vnder greene,
To the weale publique seemed wholy bended:
Zelous he was, and would haue all thinges mended,
But by that mendment nothing els hee ment
But to bee king, to that marke was his bent.

For had hee beene playne, as hee ment indeede,
Henry to depose from the royall place,
His hast had beene waste, and much worse his speede,
The king then standing in his people’s grace:
This duke therefore set forth a goodly face,
As one that ment no quarrell for the crowne,
Such as bare rule hee only would put downe.

But all for nought, so long as I bare stroke,
Serued these driftes, and proued all but vayne:
The best help then, was people to prouoke,
To make commocion and vprores amayne:
Which to appease the king himselfe was fayne,
From Blacke-heath in Kent to send mee to the towre:
Such was the force of rebelles in that howre.

The tempest yet therewith was not ceased,
For Yorke was bent his purpose to pursue,
Who seing how soone I was released,
And ill successe of sufferaunce to ensue:
Then like Iudas vnto his Lord untrue,
Esteeming time lost any longer to defarre,
By Warwicke’s ayde proclaymed open warre.

At S. Albane’s towne both our hoastes did mete,
Which to try a field was no equall place,
Forst wee were to fight in euery lane and strete,
No feare of foes could make mee shun the place:
There I and Warwicke, fronted face to face,
At an inne dore, the castle was the signe,
Where with a sword was cut my fatall lyne.

Oft was I warned to come in castle none,
Hauing no mistrust of any common signe,
I did imagine a castle built with stone,
For of no inne I could the same deuine:
In prophet’s skill my wit was neuer fyne,
A foole is hee that such vaine dreames doth dred,
And more foole of both that will by them bee led.

My life I lost in that vnlucky place,
With many lordes that leaned to my parte:
The earle Percy had no better grace,
Clyfford for all his courage could not shun the dart,
Buckingham’s heyr was at this mortall mart,
Babthorp the attourney for all his skill in lawe,
In this poynt of pleading appeared very rawe.

So poore king Henry, disarmed of his bandes,
His friends slayne, wanting all assistence,
Was made a pray vnto his enemie’s handes,
Priued of power and princely reuerence,
And as a pupyll voyde of all experience,
Innocent playne, and symply witted,
Was as a lambe vnto the wolfe committed.

A parliament then was called with speede,
A parliament? nay, a playne conspiracy,
When against right it was decreede,
That after the death of the sixt Henry,
Yorke should succede vnto the regalty,
And in this life the charge, and protection
Of king and realme, at the duke’s direction.

And thus was Yorke declared protectour,
Protectour, sayd I, nay, proditor playne:
A rancke rebell the prince’s directour,
A vassall to leade his lord and souerayne:
What honest hart would not conceiue disdayne
To see the foote surmount aboue the head?
A monster is in spite of nature bred.

Some happily heare will moue a farther doubt,
And as for Yorke’s part alledge an elder right:
O braynelesse heades, that so run in and out:
Whan length of time a state hath firmely pyght,
And good accord hath put all strife to flight,
Were it not better such titles still to sleepe,
Than all a realme about the tryall weepe.

From the female came Yorke, and all his seede,
And wee of Lancaster from the heire male,
Of whome three kinges in order did succeede,
By iust discent: this is no fayned tale:
Who would haue thought that any storme or gale
Our shyp could shake, hauing such anker hold?
None I thinke sure, vnlesse that God so would.

After this hurle the king was fayne to flee
Northward in post, for succour, and releefe:
O, blessed God, how straunge it was to see,
A rightfull prince pursued as a theefe:
To thee, O England, what can bee more repreefe?
Then to pursue thy prince with armed hand,
What greater shame may bee to any land?

Traytours did triumph, true men lay in the dust,
Reuing and robbing, roisted euery where,
Will stoode for skill, and law obeyed lust,
Might trode downe right, of king there was no feare,
The title was tryed onely by shielde and speare:
All which vnhaps, that they were not forseene,
Suffolke was in fault, who ruled king and queene.

Some here perhaps doe looke I should accuse
My selfe of [some] sleight, or subtilty vniust,
Wherein I should my prince’s eares abuse
Against the duke, to bring him in mistrust,
Some part whereof, though needes confesse I must
My fault onely consisted in consent,
Leaning to my foes, whereof I doe repent.

If I at first when brandes began to smoke,
The sparkes to quench by any way had sought,
Neuer had England felt this mortall stroke,
Which now to late lamenting helpeth nought:
Two poynts of wit too dearely haue I bought,
The first that better is timely to foresee,
Then after ouer late a counsaylour to bee.

The second is, not easely to assent
To aduise geuen against thy faythfull frend,
But of the speaker ponder the intent,
The meaning full, the poynt, and finall end:
A saint in showe in proofe is found a feend,
The subtile man the simple to abuse,
Much pleasaunt speach and eloquence doth vse.

And so was I abusde and other moe
By Suffolke’s sleights, who sought to please the queene,
Forecasting not the misery and woe
Which thereof came, and soone was after seene:
With glosing tong hee made vs fooles to weene,
That Humfrey did to England’s crowne aspire,
Which to preuent, his death they did conspire.

What should I more of mine vnhaps declare,
Whereof my death at last hath made an end?
Not I alone was voyde of all this care,
Some besides mee there were that did offend:
None I accuse, nor yet my selfe defend,
Faultes I knowe I had, as none liues without,
My chiefe fault was folly I put thee out of dout.

Folly was the chiefe, the noughty time was next,
Which made my fortune subiect to the chiefe:
If England then with strife had not beene vext,
Glory might haue growen whereas ensued griefe:
Yet one thing is my comfort and reliefe,
Constant I was in my prince’s quarell
To die, or liue, and spared for no parell.

What though fortune enuious was my foe?
A noble hart ought not the sooner yeelde,
Nor shrinke a backe for any weale or woe,
But for his prince lie bleeding in the feelde:
If priuy spight at any time mee helde,
The price is paide: and greeuous is my guerdon,
As for the rest God (I trust) will pardon.