90. "John Gilpin."-October, 1782.

The vicarage was soon ready for the reception of Lady Austen, and as soon as she was settled therein, the door in the wall that had been in use when Newton was at Olney was opened again. Henceforward Lady Austen, the poet, and Mrs. Unwin allowed never a day to pass without meeting; and so intimate did they become that "a practice obtained at length of dining with each other alternately every day, Sundays excepted."

Then Lady Austen would play on the harpsichord and sing the songs Cowper wrote for her " No longer I follow a sound," "When all within is peace,' or the dirge commencing "Toll for the brave." So the days passed happily, but in the autumn of 1782 a dark time seemed at hand, the poet's mind clouded, and he moved about with a vacant and woebegone look. Nothing seemed to afford him pleasure; his books, his favourite hares, his birds, were unnoticed, and he cared not to pace his thirty yards of gravel walk, or to meditate among his apple-trees and hollyhocks in the garden of which he had formerly been so fond.

Mrs. Unwin saw with apprehension his dejection and his altered demeanour, and did all that an affectionate woman could do to dispel the darkness, but apparently in vain, and both she and Lady Austen feared that a winter of distress and sorrow was about to succeed a summer of so much happiness. Ten years had passed since his last attack, ten had interposed between that and the second attack, and ten between that and the first; and to all appearance another of these

decennial periods of madness awaited the poet. The tenderness of Mrs. Unwin and the vivacity of Lady Austen were equally unavailing, and gloom was thrown over the little circle. But one evening, in the famous parlour, the three friends being seated, a droll tale, that she had heard when a girl, came into Lady Austen's mind, and she proposed to tell it. Mrs. Unwin readily assented, but Cowper was silent, for by this time he had got into that pitiable state in which nothing seemed to interest him. This was not very encouraging to Lady Austen, but she began her story, and told how a certain citizen, "of famous London town," rode out to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of his weddinghow he went farther than he intended, and all his misadventures. The poet, indifferent at first, and apparently paying no attention to what was going on, gradually grew interested as the story proceeded, and Lady Austen, seeing his face brighten, and delighted with her success, wound up the story with all the skill at her command. Cowper could now no longer control himself, but burst out into a loud and hearty peal of laughter. The ladies joined in the mirth, and the merriment had scarcely subsided by supper-time. The story made such an impression on his mind that at night he could not sleep; and his thoughts having taken the form of rhyme, he sprang from bed, and committed them to paper, and in the morning brought down to Mrs. Unwin the crude outline of "John Gilpin." All that day and for several days he secluded himself in the greenhouse, and went on with the task of polishing and improving what he had written. As he filled his slips of paper he sent them across the

Market-place to Mr. Wilson, to the great delight and merriment of that jocular barber, who on several other occasions had been favoured with the first sight of some of Cowper's smaller poems. This version of the origin of "John Gilpin" differs, we are aware, from the one generally received, which represents the famous ballad as having been commenced and finished in a night; but that the facts here stated are accurate we have the authority of Mrs. Wilson; moreover, it has always been said in Olney that "John Gilpin" was written in the greenhouse," and that the first person who saw the complete poem, and consequently the forerunner of that noble army who have made merry over its drolleries, was William Wilson, the barber.I "The story of John Gilpin,'" observes Hazlitt, "has perhaps given as much pleasure to as many people as anything of the same length that ever was written."

Who the real John Gilpin was remained unknown until 1839, when it was revealed in the Aldine Magazine by Mr. William West. After describing the "short, squat, grotesque figure" of Mr. Vanhagen, a famous confectioner of those days, Mr. West observes that the original of John Gilpin was none "other than Mr. Beyer, at the top of Paternoster Row, or rather the corner of Cheapside. He was an eminent linendraper, superlatively polite-somewhat taller than my friend V., not quite so stout. . . . This is not generally known, but that Cowper had Beyer in his eye when he wrote the poem I had the assurance fifty years ago from John Annesley Colet, who knew Beyer better than I did, and also Mr. Cowper and some of his con1 "The Town of Cowper."

nections." A directory of London for 1772 has this entry :

Beyer, John, linendraper, 3, Cheapside;'

an entry that is repeated year by year until 1792, when the initial is changed, and we have—

"Beyer, M., linendraper, 3, Cheapside,"

the alteration being accounted for by an obituary notice in the Gentleman's Magazine :

"May 11, 1791, aged 98, Mr. Beyer, linendraper, of Cheapside."

Another directory supplies us with the information that "Beyer, M.," was "Beyer, Martha"; and who shall reprove us for assuming that this person was the worthy linendraper's no less worthy widow, the "careful soul who "two stone bottles found," and did several other things with which we are equally familiar?

A map of London published at the end of the last century, which gives every house with its number, shows No. 4, Cheapside, at the S.E. corner of Paternoster Row, and No. 3, which was John Beyer's address, at the N.E. corner. To sum up these facts : Mr. John Gilpin, or to give him his correct name, Mr. John Beyer, was born in 1693, and carried on business as a linendraper at No. 3, Cheapside, the N.E. corner. He was well known, superlatively polite, and inclined to obesity. He died on May 11, 1791, at the advanced age of ninety-eight, and his business was afterwards carried on by one Martha Beyer, who may have been his widow.

The famous ballad was first printed (anonymously) in November, 1782, in the Public Advertiser, and it not only did the hearts good of its numerous readers, it

acted in a similar manner upon the poet himself, for in this same month of November we read of his growing plump, and the ladies told him that he was looking as young as ever.

It is a mistake to suppose, as some have done, that "John Gilpin" owed its popularity to the recitation of it by Henderson, the comedian. In May, 1784, twelve months before the ballad was read at Freemasons' Hall, Cowper could write: "In the last packet but one that I received from Johnson, he asked me if I had any improvements of 'John Gilpin' in hand, or if I designed any; for that to print only the original again would be to publish what has been hackneyed in every magazine, in every newspaper, and in every street;" and in the following October he says: "I have not been without thoughts of adding 'John Gilpin' at the tail of all" (i.e.,. of his second volume). "He has made a good deal of noise in the world; and perhaps it may not be amiss to show, that though I write generally with a serious intention, I know how to be occasionally merry. The critical reviewers charged me with an attempt of humour. John having been more celebrated upon the score of humour than most pieces that have appeared in modern days, may serve to exonerate me from the imputation." From this it is evident that Henderson's recitation of it in the following year did no more for the ballad than to give a fillip to its popularity.

Cowper was several times requested by his friends, and particularly by Lady Austen, to write a sequel; but over and over again he declined. "Having," he says.

' Henderson died on November 25, 1785. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, near Dr. Johnson.