False-Hearted Miller- (Shields) c.1821 Pollock broadside
[My date. From Bodleian, "False-Hearted Miller" braodside dated 1815-1855 by Pollock, J.K. printer; North Shields.
This is a shortened version of the Berkshire Tragedy broadside which appeared under the titles "The Cruel Miller," "The Cruel Miller, or, Love and Murder," "False-Hearted Miller," and "Bloody Miller" (not A, also titled "Bloody Miller").
Of the four standard titles, "The Cruel Miller, or, Love and Murder," dated c. 1813 and "Bloody Miller," Imprint: Thompson, Printer, no. 156, Dale-Street, Liverpool between 1789-1820 are among the earliest printed. It's reasonable to assume all were printed by c. 1820. This short version was issued by many printers, both London with imprints by Disley; Such; Fortey; Pitts; Catnach and provincial with imprints by Birmingham; Worcester; Newcastle; Liverpool; North Shields; Manchester), plus several issues with no imprint[Pettitt].
R. Matteson 2016]
False Hearted Miller
My parents educated me good learning gave to me,
They bound me 'prentice to a mill to which I did agree,
Till I fell a courting a pretty lass with a black and a rolling eye,
I promis'd that I'd marry her if she would with me lie.
I courted her for six long months a little now and then,
I being ashamed to marry her, I being so young a man,
Till at length she prov'd with child to me, and she thus to me did say,
Ah! Johnny dear do marry me, or else for you I die.
I went unto her sister's house at eight o' clock at night,
And little did this fair maid know, I ow'd her any spite,
I ask'd her to take a walk all through the meadows gay,
And there we'd sit and talk awhile, and fix our wedding day.
I took a stick out of the hedge and hit her on the crown,
The blood from the innocent came trickling to the ground,
She on her bended knees did fall, and loud for mercy cry'd,
Saying Johnny dear don't murder me, for I am big with child.
I took her by her yellow locks and dragg'd her to the ground,
Andcame to a river side, and I threw her body in,
With blood from the innocent my hands and feet were dy'd,
And if you'd seen her in her bloom, she might have been my bride.
I went unto my master's house at ten o' clock at night,
My master getting out of bed and striking of a light,
He asked me, and question'd me what dy'd my hands & clothes.
I made him an answer I'd been bleeding at my nose.
I taking of a candle and lighting me to bed,
And all the dreadful long night my true love lay dead,
And all the dreadful long night, no rest I could find,
For the burning flames of torment all round my eyes did shine.
In two or three days after, this fair maid she was miss'd,
I was taken on suspicion, and in a prison cast,
Her sister prosecuted me for my own awful doubt,
Her sister prosecuted me for the asking of her out.
In two or three days after, this fair maid she was found,
Came floating by her brother's house, that liv'd near Wexford town,
The judge and jury they quickly did agree,
For the murder of my true love, that hanged I should be.