King Charles sat on t’throne one day ponderin’,
The year were sixteen-forty two.
When Archbishop Laud popped his ‘ead round the door
And said “Charlie, d’ya fancy a brew?”
“Something stronger perhaps”, answered Charlie,
“and be sharp, we’ve got things to discuss.
I’ve arrested five members o’ Commons,
And t’others are mekkin’ a fuss!”
“I’d get out o’ town for a bit” advised Laud,
“up Nottingham, I’ll pack a bag.
You have a few pals in that neck o’ t’woods,
and they’ll back us when raisin’ thi flag!”
So that were the start of the conflict,
an’ fogettin’ all thoughts o’ goodwill,
Charles set of in a cavalier fashion
for a feight at a spot called Edgehill.
To call it a battle were over the top.
The thing were a bit of a bore.
They shot a few arrers called a few names,
And decided to call it a draw.
Earl o’ Essex were worried o’er losin’
And decided to bring in some muscle.
So he signed “Solemn League” an’ got Scots on his side.
They were allus dead keen on a tussle!
Marston Moor were the venue for next round o’ t’cup,
But this time Charlie’s crew had bin sussed?
You couldn’t see owt but a royal defeat,
And you couldn’t see t’generals for dust.
The MP for Huntingdon, Cromwell,
told of plans for ‘is “new model army”.
Essex said “it’s no time to be lakin’ wi’ toys”
Ollie looked at ‘im like he were barmy.
“My new model army will win us this war!”
boasted Ollie, an’ nobody doubted.
So at Naseby, it didn’t come as a surprise,
when t’main royal army were routed.
Prince Rupert were gutted that t’roundheads ‘ad won,
they were better he ‘ad to agree.
“If that Cromwell chap puts in a transfer request,
I’m sure Charlie would cough up the fee?”
As ‘is armies were all but demolished,
And he’d called th’Uxbridge talks to an ‘alt.
King Charles took ‘issel up to Scotland,
to fish an’ to sample some malt.
He give up t’Scots, but were ‘anded,
To t’members o’ par-li-a-ment.
He agreed t ‘and over control o’ the church
and give up t’milita for lent.
The army turned up and they seized t’poor chap,
who were geddin fed up wi’ all th’assle.
Before they presented t’proposals to ‘im ,
he’d legged it to Carisbrooke castle.
Well Cromwell were vexed at not getting’ ‘is way
and fumed that king Charlie ‘ad fled.
Commons said that all parley were cut off wi’ Charles,
an’ next time they’d cut off ‘is ‘ead.
“Again there will be civil war” said Montrose,
“your ducking and diving is through!”
“I’ll agree that I can’t avoid war “muttered Charles,
“but I don’t call it civil, do you?”
So at Preston the Scots an’ t’royalists,
to Cromwell’s new army did fall.
Ollie leaned o’er to Fairfax sayin’ “while we’re up ‘ere,
See if t’snookers still on at t’guild’all?”
Now th’army demanded the trial o’ the king,
But t’commons resisted the urge.
‘Til colonel Tom Pride cobbed a few on ‘em out,
in what became known as the “purge”.
Well t’few that were left were entitled “the Rump”,
and decided that t’king would be tried.
He were towd he’d be treated quite fairly,
but he knew it were all cut an’ dried.
He went up ‘fore high court o’ justice,
An’ t’charges were eagerly read,
after eight days of evidence, Charlie were towd,
he’d be sayin’ goodbye to ‘is ‘ead!
Two days later in front of his banquetin’ house,
he were taken out, an’ ex-e-cut-ed.
Lots o’ folk started skrikin’ at Charlie’s demise,
but Cromwell were reported, ”quite suited!”
That were th’end o’ the line for poor Charlie o’ course,
an’ the monarchy too, for a spell.
Soon Cromwell were off on ‘is travels again,
o’er to Ireland, rebellions to quell.
Charles the second were crowned up in Scotland
an’ ‘is royalist forces did gather.
But when he met Cromwell at Worcester,
he got his arse kicked like ‘is father.
The vict’ry ay Worcester were Oliver’s last
an’ it tasted, he said “sweet as nectar.”
So the rump was dissolved an’ they set Ollie up
as the commonwealths ‘ead, “Lord Protector.”
Though Cromwell deposed a tyrannical king,
he were never t’bees knees wi’ all t’punters?
So since Restoration, British ‘ave ‘ad,
aversion to “Military Juntas!”