THERE was a jolly miller once, lived on the river Dee;
He worked and sang from morn till night, no lark more blithe than he;
And this the burden of his song forever used to be:
‘I care for nobody, no, not I, if nobody cares for me.’
The reason why he was so blithe, he once did thus unfold:
‘The bread I eat my hands have earned, I covet no man’s gold;
I do not fear next quarter-day, in debt to none I be;
I care for nobody, no, not I, if nobody cares for me.
‘A coin or two I’ve in my purse, to help a needy friend,
A little I can give the poor and still have some to spend;
Though I may fail, yet I rejoice, another’s good hap to see;
I care for nobody, no, not I, if nobody cares for me.’
So let us his example take and be from malice free,
Let every one his neighbour serve, as served he’d like to be
And merrily push the can about and drink and sing with glee:
‘If nobody cares a doit for us, why not a doit care we.’
A traditional and popular English folksong from Cheshire, ‘The Miller of Dee’ has appeared in various forms, the earliest of which was published in 1716. The Dee runs through Chester, in Cheshire, and it is thought that the mill of the song could have been one of many along the banks of the river near the town.
On the face of it, this song seems to be about self-sufficiency and happiness with your lot (The bread I eat my hands have earned, I covet no man’s gold), embodied by the cheerful miller, who is presented as an inspiring example to all. However, a darker element can be discerned in the refrain: I care for nobody, no, not I, if nobody cares for me. The miller, ready to help a needy friend and give to the poor, appears otherwise to be driven purely by self-interest, detached from the community around him. Reaching the final verse, it seems that his example is actually only meant to inspire you to get drunk and ignore everyone who disagrees with you: If nobody cares a doit for us, why not a doit care we. And we all know what that is like, don’t we!
Later versions of the song have tried to edit out this disturbing ambiguity, crafting the words into a much clearer moral message. Here the Scottish poet and songwriter Charles Mackay (1814-89) has removed all mention of money and alcohol and turned the song into a dialogue between the exemplary miller and an admiring King Hal (Henry VIII):
There dwelt a miller hale and bold
Beside the river Dee;
He worked and sang from morn till night,
No lark more blithe than he;
And this the burden of his song
Forever used to be, –
‘I envy nobody; no, not I,
And nobody envies me!’
‘Thou’rt wrong, my friend!’ said good King Hal;
‘Thou’rt wrong as wrong can be;
For could my heart be light as thine,
I’d gladly change with thee.
And tell me now, what makes thee sing,
With voice so loud and free,
While I am sad, though I’m the king,
Beside the river Dee.’
The miller smiled and doffed his cap:
‘I earn my bread,’ quoth he;
‘I love my wife, I love my friend,
I love my children three;
I owe no penny I cannot pay;
I thank the river Dee,
That turns the mill that grinds the corn,
To feed my babes and me.’
‘Good friend,’ said Hal, and sighed the while,
‘Farewell! and happy be;
But say no more, if thou’dst be true,
That no one envies thee.
Thy mealy cap is worth my crown,
Thy mill my kingdom’s fee;
Such men as thou are England’s boast,
O miller of the Dee!’