England's Black Tribunal
Or, King Charles's Martyrdom.
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TRUE Churchmen all, I pray behold & see,
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Great Charles once England's king in misery
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His suffering now I mean to tell,
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How Britons did against their King rebel.
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A court they made which they did justice call,
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And there those traitors most tyrannical,
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Of cruelty impeach'd the best of Kings,
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Of murder, treason and such heinous things.
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Basely they us'd the royal prisoner there,
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He not being suffer'd truth for to declare,
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It's strange says Charles a most surprizing thing,
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You can't make laws now for to try your King.
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Our court is just the president reply'd,
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And by these laws, sir, now you must be try'd,
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For against the lords and commons of this land,
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It's not for prisoners to dispute and stand.
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Then said the King I think my case is hard,
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Worse than the malefactors I am serv'd,
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For they have liberty to plead their cause;
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Why don't you grant me the true British laws.
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Consider first I'm your annointed King,
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Take heed, lest judgment on this land you bring
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For if the lord's appointed you do slay,
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Take care you don't repent the bloody day.
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In vain did speak this Prince of Royal Blood,
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His words indeed they did but little good,
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For by those bloody tyrants he was cast,
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Charles Stuart, you must loose your head at last
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As he pass'd down stairs, the soldiers base,
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Did smoke tobacco in his royal face,
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Spitting upon him as he did pass by,
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Forgive them, Christ, forgive them he did cry.
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It is no more than what my saviour dear,
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Did suffer for poor sinful mortals here,
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If thus the King of Heaven they did kill,
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What is my blood to his, which they did spil.
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My earthly crown I freely down do lay,
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Although they thus do take my life away,
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I hope a crown of glory to obtain,
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Forever with the blest above to reign.
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I now do suffer for a cause that's good,
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For the protestant laws I always stood,
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But when my head they from my body take,
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Christ keep the church for thy dear mercy's sake.
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Then he did beg his children for to see,
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It being granted then that liberty,
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Those that in England being present there,
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To see their dying father did repair.
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When the lady Elizabeth did her father see,
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She trembling fell before him on her knee,
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Having the D[u]ke of Gloucester in her hand,
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Rise, says the King, before your father stand.
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Behold dear child, the King to her did say,
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Great Charles who once did England's Scepter sway
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Is try'd and cast, upon the block to dye,
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Not knowing of the cause or reason why.
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O royal father said the Princess then,
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What will become of us when you are gone,
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If they've the heart to slay our father dear,
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I fear our deaths are drawing very near.
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If I could die upon the block for thee,
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Death would be but a little unto me;
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But I must live to see my father bleed,
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O cruel tyrants you who do the deed.
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O child! when I am gone, the King reply'd,
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You have a God for to stand on your side,
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I hope he will preserve the Stuart's race,
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So heaven bless and mark you all with grace.
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Then taking of the Duke of Gloucester young,
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Upon his knee which was his youngest son;
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Said he dear child, I give this charge to thee,
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That to your brother you obedient be.
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It is your brother Charles that I do mean,
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You must call him your sovereign lord and King,
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For they will cut off thy dear father's head,
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The babe then wept for to hear what he said.
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Then who must be my father said the child,
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The lord of heaven said the King and smil'd,
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With that the child upon his neck did fly,
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Saying father let us both together die.
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This kind expression of a child so young,
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It caus'd the tears like fountains for to run,
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A thousand times he kiss'd his children dear,
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And on his knees with them fell down to prayers.
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And blessing of them took his last farewell,
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Saying with your father things will soon do well;
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Next to the block this Martyr was convey'd,
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At his own Palace gate to loose his head.
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How can the Presbyterians bear to hear,
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How patiently he did his sufferings bear;
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How freely he his earthly crown did leave,
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In hopes a crown of glory to receive.
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In Windsor Chapel there his corps was laid,
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When the Lord Bishop of London was deny'd,
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At the funeral to read the common prayer,
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A thing his royal master lov'd so dear.
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Thus fell the Church as likewise fell the King,
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O cruel Presbyterians I am sure this thing,
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Can never be forgot, the bloody day,
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On which your royal master, ye did slay.
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We never more will put it in your power,
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The Church of England up for to devour;
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Heaven preserve the Church likewise the State,
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And keep it from the Presbyterians cruel hate.
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