THE
Bloody minded Midwife,
Containing an Account of many Infants whom
she Murthur'd, or starv'd to Death, some of which were found in a
Hand-Basket above Ground, others digg'd up in a Cellar, where she
had Buried them. To the Astonishment of all Spectators.
Tune of, Russels last Farewel. Licensed according to Order.
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GOOD People all I pray attend,
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unto a wicked deed,
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While these sad Mournful Lines I penn'd,
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my very heard did bleed,
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And so would any heart of stone,
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the Rich as well as Poor,
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For sure the like was never known,
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in any Age before.
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At Poplar, near fair London Town,
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there did a Midwife dwell,
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Whose Murders calls just Vengeance down,
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since they do far excell,
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The greatest Villains in the Land,
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and that you all will own,
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When you the truth shall understand,
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'twould melt a heart of stone.
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Full Three and Thirty Years ago,
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the Midwife did begin,
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And ever since, for ought we know,
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she has been Murdering,
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Young Infants from their Mothers Womb,
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when first they drew their breath,
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Starving she made their dismal doom,
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or some such Cruel Death.
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Neighbours observ'd her often times,
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which she could not endure,
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The better to conceal her Crimes,
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she kept her self Obscure,
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At last her sins full ripe did grow,
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Blood did for Vengeance Cry,
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And nothing can be hid we know,
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from Gods all seeing eye.
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The Midwife chanc'd to go from home,
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and left her servant Maid,
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Who after her did likewise roam,
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thus was they then betray'd,
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A litle Girl and Boy was left,
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to Nurse a Babe likewise,
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Who was almost of Life bereft,
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starving with bitter crys.
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The Boy and Girl they made their moan,
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to some that pass'd the street,
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And cry'd that they were left alone,
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having no food to eat,
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But Water and one crum of Cheese,
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to feed the Babe that cry'd,
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At which sad grief did greatly sieze,
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Neighbours on e'ery side.
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The Officers and other Men,
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did open straight the door,
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Whereas the Boy he told them then,
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that they might find two more,
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Young Children in a Basket dead.
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upon a shelf below,
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They search'd the Place as he had said,
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and found it even so.
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This spectacle amaz'd them all,
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so soon as they were found,
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Live Virmin did about them craul,
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while lying above ground,
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At length they dug the Cellar floor,
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directed by the Boy,
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Where they found six or seven more,
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the which she did destroy.
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O Cruel Wretch that this could do,
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a Monster to all good,
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How could she this her hands imbrew,
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in little Infants blood,
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How could she slumber Night or Day,
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or take one wink of rest,
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While little Murther'd Infants lay,
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which might her sleep molest,
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This Midwife she was seiz'd at last,
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and to a Justice brought,
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And as along the streets she past,
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she was with passion fraught,
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She then was soon to Newgate sent,
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where she's confind to lye,
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And tho' she may in tears lament,
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'tis just that she should dye.
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