Showing how he went farther than he intended, and came safe home
again.
John Gilpin was a citizen
Of credit and
renown,
A train-band captain eke was
he,
Of famous London
town.
John Gilpin’s spouse
said to her dear,
“Though
wedded we have been
These twice ten tedious years,
yet we
No holiday have
seen.
“To-morrow is our wedding-day,
And we will then
repair
Unto the ‘Bell’
at Edmonton,
All in a chaise
and pair.
“My sister, and my sister’s
child,
Myself, and children
three,
Will fill the chaise; so you
must ride
On horseback after
we.”
He soon replied, “I
do admire
Of womankind but
one,
And you are she, my dearest
dear,
Therefore it shall
be done.
“I am a linendraper
bold,
As all the world
doth know,
And my good friend the calender
Will lend his
horse to go.”
Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, “That’s
well said;
And for that wine
is dear,
We will be furnished with
our own,
Which is both
bright and clear.”
John Gilpin kissed his loving
wife.
O’erjoyed
was he to find.
That though on pleasure she
was bent,
She had a frugal
mind.
The morning came, the chaise
was brought,
But yet was not
allowed
To drive up to the door, lest
all
Should say that
she was proud.
So three doors off the chaise
was stayed,
Where they did
all get in;
Six precious souls, and all
agog
To dash through
thick and thin.
Smack went the whip, round
went the wheels,
Were never folks
so glad!
The stones did rattle underneath,
As if Cheapside
were mad.
John Gilpin at his horse’s
side
Seized fast the
flowing mane,
And up he got, in haste to
ride,
But soon came
down again;
For saddletree scarce reached
had he,
His journey to
begin,
When, turning round his head,
he saw
Three customers
come in.
So down he came; for loss
of time,
Although it grieved
him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well
he knew,
Would trouble
him much more.
’Twas long before the
customers
Were suited to
their mind,
When Betty screaming came
downstairs,
“The wine
is left behind!”
“Good lack!” quoth
he, “yet bring it me,
My leathern belt
likewise,
In which I bear my trusty
sword
When I do exercise.”
Now Mistress Gilpin (careful
soul!)
Had two stone
bottles found,
To hold the liquor that she
loved,
And keep it safe
and sound.
Each bottle had a curling
ear,
Through which
the belt he drew,
And hung a bottle on each
side,
To make his balance
true.
Then over all, that he might
be
Equipped from
top to toe,
His long red cloak, well brushed
and neat,
He manfully did
throw.
Now see him mounted once again
Upon his nimble
steed,
Full slowly pacing o’er
the stones,
With caution and
good heed.
But finding soon a smoother
road
Beneath his well-shod
feet,
The snorting beast began to
trot,
Which galled him
in his seat.
“So, fair and softly!”
John he cried,
But John he cried
in vain;
That trot became a gallop
soon,
In spite of curb
and rein.
So stooping down, as needs
he must
Who cannot sit
upright,
He grasped the mane with both
his hands,
And eke with all
his might.
His horse, who never in that
sort
Had handled been
before,
What thing upon his back had
got,
Did wonder more
and more.
Away went Gilpin, neck or
nought,
Away went hat
and wig;
He little dreamt, when he
set out,
Of running such
a rig.
The wind did blow, the cloak
did fly
Like streamer
long and gay,
Till, loop and button failing
both.
At last it flew
away.
Then might all people well
discern
The bottles he
had slung;
A bottle swinging at each
side,
As hath been said
or sung.
The dogs did bark, the children
screamed,
Up flew the windows
all;
And every soul cried out,
“Well done!”
As loud as he
could bawl.
Away went Gilpin who
but he?
His fame soon
spread around;
“He carries weight!
he rides a race!
’Tis for
a thousand pound!”
And still as fast as he drew
near,
’Twas wonderful
to view
How in a trice the turnpike-men
Their gates wide
open threw.
And now, as he went bowing
down
His reeking head
full low,
The bottles twain behind his
back
Were shattered
at a blow.
Down ran the wine into the
road,
Most piteous to
be seen,
Which made the horse’s
flanks to smoke,
As they had basted
been.
But still he seemed to carry
weight.
With leathern
girdle braced;
For all might see the bottle-necks
Still dangling
at his waist.
Thus all through merry Islington
These gambols
he did play,
Until he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so
gay;
And there he threw the wash
about
On both sides
of the way,
Just like unto a trundling
mop,
Or a wild goose
at play.
At Edmonton his loving wife
From the balcony
spied
Her tender husband, wondering
much
To see how he
did ride.
“Stop, stop, John Gilpin! Here’s
the house!”
They all
at once did cry;
“The dinner waits, and
we are tired;”
Said Gilpin “So
am I!”
But yet his horse was not
a whit
Inclined to tarry
there;
For why? his owner
had a house
Full ten miles
off, at Ware.
So like an arrow swift he
flew,
Shot by an archer
strong;
So did he fly which
brings me to
The middle of
my song.
Away went Gilpin, out of breath,
And sore against
his will,
Till at his friend the calender’s
His horse at last
stood still.
The calender, amazed to see
His neighbour
in such trim,
Laid down his pipe, flew to
the gate.
And thus accosted
him:
“What news? what news?
your tidings tell;
Tell me you must
and shall
Say why bareheaded you are
come,
Or why you come at all?”
Now Gilpin had a pleasant
wit,
And loved a timely
joke;
And thus unto the calender
In merry guise
he spoke:
“I came because your
horse would come;
And, if I well
forebode,
My hat and wig will soon be
here,
They are upon
the road.”
The calender, right glad to
find
His friend in
merry pin,
Returned him not a single
word,
But to the house
went in;
Whence straight he came with
hat and wig,
A wig that flowed
behind,
A hat not much the worse for
wear,
Each comely in
its kind.
He held them up, and in his
turn
Thus showed his
ready wit:
“My head is twice as
big as yours,
They therefore
needs must fit.”
“But let me scrape the
dirt away,
That
hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat, for well
you may
Be
in a hungry case.”
Said John, “It is my
wedding-day,
And
all the world would stare
If wife should dine at Edmonton,
And
I should dine at Ware.”
So turning to his horse, he
said
“I
am in haste to dine;
’Twas for your pleasure
you came here,
You
shall go back for mine.”
Ah! luckless speech, and bootless
boast!
For
which he paid full dear;
For while he spake, a braying
ass
Did
sing most loud and clear;
Whereat his horse did snort,
as he
Had
heard a lion roar,
And galloped off with all
his might,
As
he had done before.
Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin’s
hat and wig;
He lost them sooner than at
first,
For why? they
were too big.
Now Mistress Gilpin, when
she saw
Her husband posting
down
Into the country far away,
She pulled out
half-a-crown;
And thus unto the youth she
said
That drove them
to the “Bell,”
“This shall be yours
when you bring back
My husband safe
and well.”
The youth did ride, and soon
did meet
John
coming back amain;
Whom in a trice he tried to
stop,
By
catching at his rein.
But not performing what he
meant,
And
gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted
more,
And
made him faster run.
Away went Gilpin, and away
Went postboy at
his heels,
The postboy’s horse
right glad to miss
The lumbering
of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin
fly,
With postboy scampering in
the rear.
They raised the
hue and cry.
“Stop thief! stop thief!
a highwayman!’”
Not
one of them was mute;
And all and each that passed
that way
Did
join in the pursuit.
And now the turnpike-gates
again
Flew open in short
space;
The toll-man thinking, as
before,
That Gilpin rode
a race.
And so he did, and won it
too,
For he got first
to town;
Nor stopped till where he
had got up,
He did again get
down.
Now let us sing, Long live
the King,
And Gilpin, long
live he;
And when he next doth ride
abroad.
May I be there
to see.