A History of the Gipsies Part 38

[319] Perhaps the following pa.s.sage is the one alluded to by this writer: "I often, when these temptations had been with force upon me, did compare myself to the case of such a child, whom some Gipsy hath by force took up in her arms, and is carrying from friend and country." _Grace abounding._ The use of a simile like this confirms the fact that Bunyan belonged to the tribe, rather than that he did not; unless we can imagine that Gipsies, when candid, do not what every other race has done--admit the peculiarities of theirs, while in a previous and barbarous state of existence. His admission confirms a fact generally believed, but sometimes denied, as in the case of the writer in Blackwood's Magazine, mentioned at page 375.

Bunyan, doubtless, "dwelt on it with a sort of spiritual exultation,"

that he should have been "called"--not "out of Egypt," but--"out of the tribe," when, possibly, no others of it, to his knowledge, had been so privileged; but it was, certainly, "most unlikely" he would say that "he belonged to that cla.s.s of vagabonds."

I need hardly say anything further to show that Bunyan was a Gipsy. The only circ.u.mstance that is wanting to complete the evidence, would be for him to have added to his account of his descent: "In other words, I am a Gipsy." But I have given reasons for such verbal admission being, in a measure, impossible. I do not ask for an argument in favour of Bunyan not being a Gipsy, but a common Englishman; for an argument of that kind, beyond such remarks as I have commented on, is impracticable; but what I ask for is, an exposition of the animus of the man who does not wish that he should have been a Gipsy; a.s.suming that a man can be met with, who will so far forget what is due to the dignity of human nature, as to commit himself in any such way. That Bunyan was a Gipsy is beyond a doubt. That he is a Gipsy, now, in Abraham's bosom, the Christian may readily believe. To the genius of a Gipsy and the grace of G.o.d combined, the world is indebted for the n.o.blest production that ever proceeded from an uninspired man. Impugn it whoso list.

Of the Pilgrim's Progress, Lord Macaulay, in his happy manner, writes: "For magnificence, for pathos, for vehement exhortation, for subtle disquisition, for every purpose of the poet, the orator, and the divine, this homely dialect--the dialect of plain working men--was perfectly sufficient. There is no book in our literature on which we would so readily stake the fame of the old, unpolluted, English language," as the Pilgrim's Progress; "no book which shows, so well, how rich that language is in its own proper wealth, and how little it has been improved by all that it has borrowed." "Though there were many clever men in England, during the latter half of the seventeenth century, there were only two great creative minds. One of these minds produced the Paradise Lost; the other, the Pilgrim's Progress"--the work of an English tinkering Gipsy.

It is very singular that religious writers should strive to make out that Bunyan was not a Gipsy. If these writers really have the glory of G.o.d at heart, they should rather attempt to prove that he was a member of this race, which has been so much despised. For, thereby, the grace of G.o.d would surely be the more magnified. Have they never heard that Jesus Christ came into the world to preach the Gospel to the poor, to break the chains of the oppressed, and raise up the bowed-down? Have they never heard that the poor publican who, standing afar off, would not so much as lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote his breast, and exclaimed: "G.o.d be merciful to me, a sinner," went down justified rather than him who gave thanks for his not being like other men, or even as that publican? Have they never heard that G.o.d hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and things which are despised, yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that are: that no flesh should glory in his presence? I shall wait, with considerable curiosity, to see whether the next editor, or biographer, of this ill.u.s.trious Gipsy will take any notice of the present work; or whether he will dispose of it somewhat in this strain: "One of Bunyan's modern reviewers, by a strange mistake, construes his self-disparaging admissions to mean that he was the offspring of Gipsies!"

Sir Walter Scott admits that Bunyan was most probably a "Gipsy reclaimed;" and Mr. Offor, that "his father must have been a Gipsy."[320] But, with these exceptions, I know not if any writer upon Bunyan has more than hinted at the possibility of even a connexion between him and the Gipsies. It is very easy to account for all this, by the ignorance of the world in regard to the Gipsy tribe, but, above all, by the extreme prejudice of caste which is entertained against it. Does caste exist nowhere but in India? Does an Englishman feel curious to know what caste can mean? In few parts of the world does caste reign so supreme, as it does in Great Britain, towards the Gipsy nation. What is it but the prejudice of caste that has prevented the world from acknowledging Bunyan to have been a Gipsy? The evidence of the fact of his having been a Gipsy is positive enough. Will any one say that he does not believe that Bunyan meant to convey to the world a knowledge of the fact of his being a Gipsy? Or that he does not believe that the tinkers are Gipsies? Has any writer on Bunyan ever taken the trouble to ascertain who the tinkers really are; and that, in consequence of his investigations, he has come to the conclusion that they are _not_ Gipsies? If no writer on the subject of the ill.u.s.trious dreamer has ever taken that trouble, to what must we attribute the fact but the prejudice of caste? It is caste, and nothing but caste. What is it but the prejudice of caste that has led Lord Macaulay to invent his story about the tinkers? For what he says of the tinkers is a pure invention, or, at best, a delusion, on his part. What is it but the prejudice of caste that has prevented others from saying, plainly, that Bunyan was a Gipsy?

It would be more manly if they were to leave Bunyan alone, than receive his works, and d.a.m.n the man, that is, his blood. It places them on the level of boors, when they allow themselves to be swayed by the prejudices that govern boors. When they speak of, or write about, Bunyan, let them exercise common honesty, and receive both the man and the man's works: let them not be guilty of pet.i.t larceny, or rather, great robbery, in the matter.

[320] It is interesting to notice what these two writers say. If Bunyan's father was a Gipsy, we may reasonably a.s.sume that his mother was one likewise; and, consequently, that Bunyan was one himself, or as Sir Walter Scott expresses it--a "Gipsy reclaimed." A Gipsy being a question of race, and not a matter of habits, it should be received as one of the simplest of elementary truths, that once a Gipsy, always a Gipsy. We naturally ask, Why has not the fact of Bunyan having been a Gipsy stood on record, for the last two centuries? and, echo answers, Why?

Southey, in his life of Bunyan, writes: "John Bunyan has faithfully recorded his own spiritual history. Had he dreamed of being 'forever known,' and taking his place among those who may be called the immortals of the earth, he would probably have introduced more details of his temporal circ.u.mstances, and the events of his life. But, glorious dreamer as he was, this never entered into his imagination.[321] Less concerning him than might have been expected has been preserved by those of his own sect; and it is not likely that anything more should be recovered from oblivion." Remarks like these come with a singular grace from a man with so many prejudices as Southey. John Bunyan has told us as much of his history _as he dared to do_. It was a subject upon which, in some respects, he doubtless maintained a great reserve; for it cannot be supposed that a man occupying so prominent and popular a position, as a preacher and writer, and of so singular an origin, should have had no investigations made into his history, and that of his family; if not by his friends, at least, by his enemies, who seemed to have been capable of doing anything to injure and discredit him. But, very probably, his being a tinker was, with friends and enemies, a circ.u.mstance so altogether discreditable, as to render any investigation of the kind perfectly superfluous. In mentioning that much of himself which he did, Bunyan doubtless imagined that the world understood, or would have understood, what he meant, and would, sooner or later, acknowledge the race to which he belonged. And yet it has remained in this unacknowledged state for two centuries since his time. How unreasonable it is to imagine that Bunyan should have said, in as many words, that he was a Gipsy, when the world generally is so apt to become fired with indignation, should we _now_ say that he was one of the race. How applicable are the words of his wife, to Sir Matthew Hale, to the people of the present day: "Because he is a tinker, and a poor man, he is despised, and cannot have justice."

[321] Although Bunyan probably never antic.i.p.ated being held in high estimation by what are termed the "great ones" of the earth, yet what Southey has said cannot be predicated of him, if we consider the singularity of his origin and history, and the popularity which he enjoyed, as author of the Pilgrim's Progress; a work affecting the mind of man in every age of the world. Of this work Bunyan writes:

"My Pilgrim's book has travelled sea and land, Yet could I never come to understand That it was slighted, or turned out of door, By any kingdom, were they rich or poor.

In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, My Pilgrim is esteemed a friend, a brother.

In Holland, too, 'tis said, as I am told, My Pilgrim is, with some, worth more than gold.

Highlanders and Wild Irish can agree My Pilgrim should familiar with them be.

'Tis in New England under such advance, Receives there so much loving countenance, As to be trimmed, new clothed, and decked with gems, That it may show its features, and its limbs.

Yet more, so public doth my Pilgrim walk, That of him thousands daily sing and talk."

Had Southey exercised that common sense which is the inheritance of most of Englishmen, and divested himself of this prejudice of caste, which is likewise their inheritance, he never could have had any difficulty in forming a proper idea of Bunyan, and everything concerning him. And the same may be said of any person at the present day. John Bunyan was simply a Gipsy of mixed blood, who must have spoken the Gipsy language in great purity; for, considering the extent to which it is spoken in England, to-day, we can well believe that it was very pure two centuries ago, and that Bunyan might have written works even in that language. But such is the childish prejudice against the name of Gipsy, such the silly incredulity towards the subject, that, in Great Britain, and, I am sorry to say, with some people in America, one has nearly as much difficulty in persuading others to believe in it, as St. Paul had in inducing the Greeks to believe in the resurrection of the dead. Why seemeth it unto thee incredible that Bunyan was a Gipsy? or that Bunyan's race should now be found in every town, in every village, and, perhaps, in every hamlet, in Scotland, and in every sphere of life?[322]

[322] Bunsen writes: "Sound judgment is displayed rather in an aptness for believing what is historical, than in a readiness at denying it.

... . . Shallow minds have a decided propensity to fall into the latter error. Incapability of believing on evidence is the last form of the intellectual imbecility of an enervated age."

A writer who contributes frequently to "Notes and Queries," after stating that he has read the works of Grellmann and Hoyland on the Gipsies, adds: "My conclusion is that the tribes have no more right to nationality, race, blood, or language, than the London thieves have--with their slang, some words of which may have their origin in the Hebrew, from their dealings with the lowest order of Jews."

To a candid and unprejudiced person, it should afford a relief, in thinking of the immortal dreamer, that he should have been a member of this singular race, emerging from a state of comparative barbarism, and struggling upwards, amid so many difficulties, rather than he should have been of the very lowest of our own race; for in that case, there is an originality and dignity connected with him personally, that could not well attach to him, in the event of his having belonged to the dregs of the common natives. Beyond being a Gipsy, it is impossible to say what his pedigree really was. His grandfather might have been an ordinary native, even of fair birth, who, in a thoughtless moment, might have "gone off with the Gipsies;" or his ancestor, on the native side of the house, might have been one of the "many English loiterers" who joined the Gipsies on their arrival in England, when they were "esteemed and held in great admiration;" or he might have been a kidnapped infant; or such a "foreign tinker" as is alluded to in the Spanish Gipsy edicts, and in the Act of Queen Elizabeth, in which mention is made of "strangers," as distinguished from natural born subjects, being with the Gipsies. The last is most probable, as the name, _Bunyan_, would seem to be of foreign origin. It is, therefore, very likely, that there was not a drop of common English blood in Bunyan's veins. John Bunyan belongs to the world at large, and England is only ent.i.tled to the credit of the formation of his character. Be all that as it may, Bunyan's father seems to have been a superior, and therefore important, man in the tribe, from the feet, as Southey says, of his having "put his son to school in an age when very few of the poor were taught to read and write."

The world never can do justice to Bunyan, unless it takes him up as a Gipsy; nor can the Christian, unless he considers him as being a Gipsy, in Abraham's bosom. His biographers have not, even in one instance, done justice to him; for, while it is altogether out of the question to call him the "wicked tinker," the "depraved Bunyan," it is unreasonable to style him a "blackguard," as Southey has done. He might have been a blackguard in that sense in which a youth, in a village, is termed a "young blackguard," for being the ringleader among the boys; or on account of his wearing a ragged coat, and carrying a hairy wallet on his shoulder, which, in a conventional sense, const.i.tute any man, in Great Britain, a blackguard. Bunyan's sins were confined to swearing, cursing, blaspheming, and lying; and were rather intensely manifested by the impetuosity of his character, or vividly described by the sincerity of his piety, and the liveliness of his genius, than deeply rooted in his nature; for he shook off the habit of swearing, (and, doubtless, that of lying,) on being severely reproved for it, by a loose and unG.o.dly woman.

Three of the kindred vices mentioned, (and, we might add the fourth, lying,) more frequently proceed from the influence of bad example and habit, than from anything inherently vicious, in a youth with so many of the good points which characterized Bunyan. His youth was even marked by a tender conscience, and a strong moral feeling; for thus he speaks of himself in "Grace Abounding:" "But this I well remember, that though I could myself sin, with the greatest delight and ease, and also take pleasure in the vileness of my companions, yet, even then, if I had, at any time, seen wicked things in those who professed goodness, it would make my spirit tremble. As, once above all the rest, when I was in the height of vanity, yet hearing one swear that was reckoned for a religious man, it had so great a stroke upon my spirit, that it made my heart ache." He was the subject of these experiences before he was ten years of age. It is unnecessary to speak of his dancing, ringing bells, and playing at tip-cat and hockey. Now, let us see what was Bunyan's _moral_ character. He was not a drunkard; and he says: "I know not whether there be such a thing as a woman breathing, under the copes of heaven, but by their apparel, their children, or by common fame, except my wife." And he continues: "Had not a miracle of precious grace prevented, I had laid myself open even to the stroke of those laws which bring some to disgrace and open shame, before the face of the world."

The meaning of this is, evidently, that he never stole anything; but that it was "by a miracle of precious grace" he was prevented from doing it. In what sense, then, was Bunyan a blackguard? There was never such occasion for him to say of himself, what John Newton said of himself, as a criminal pa.s.sed him, on the way to the gallows: "There goes John Bunyan, but for the grace of G.o.d." But such was the depth of Bunyan's piety, that hardly any one thought and spoke more disparagingly of himself than he did; although he would defend himself, with indignation, against unjust charges brought against him; for, however peaceable and humble he might be, he would turn most manfully upon his enemies, when they baited or badgered him. "It began, therefore, to be rumoured, up and down among the people, that I was a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman, and the like... . . I also call those fools and knaves that have thus made it anything of their business to affirm any of these things aforesaid of me, namely, that I have been naught with other women, or the like... . My foes have missed their mark in this their shooting at me. I am not the man. I wish that they themselves be guiltless. If all the fornicators and adulterers in England were hanged up by the neck till they be dead, John Bunyan, _the object of their envy_, would be still alive and well." The style of his language even indicated the Gipsy; for English Gipsies, as Mr. Borrow justly remarks, speak the English language much better than the natives of the lower cla.s.ses; for this apparent reason, that they have not the dialect of any particular part of England, which would be, were they always to have resided in a particular place. It must have been more so before the middle of the seventeenth century, upwards of a hundred years after the arrival of the Gipsies in England; for, in acquiring the English language, they would keep clear of many of the rude dialects that so commonly prevail in that country. But Bunyan's language was, doubtless, drawn princ.i.p.ally from the Scriptures.

The ill.u.s.trious pilgrim had many indignities cast upon him, by the lower and unthinking cla.s.ses of the population, and by Quakers and strict Baptists. 'Twas a man like John Owen who knew how to appreciate and respect him; for, said he to Charles II.: "I would readily part with all my learning, could I but preach like the tinker." And what was it that supported Bunyan, amid all the abuse and obloquy to which he was exposed, as he obeyed the call of G.o.d, and preached the gospel, in season and out of season, to every creature around him? When they sneered at his origin, and the occupation from which he had risen, he said: "Such insults I freely bind unto me, as an ornament, among the rest of my reproaches, till the Lord shall wipe them off at his coming."

And again: "The poor Christian hath something to answer them that reproach him for his ign.o.ble pedigree, and shortness of the glory of the wisdom of this world. I fear G.o.d. This is the highest and most n.o.ble; he hath the honour, the life, and glory that is lasting."[323]

[323] That the rabble, or "fellows of the baser sort," should have pelted Bunyan with all sorts of offensive articles, when he commenced to preach the gospel, is what could naturally have been expected; but it sounds strange to read what he has put on record of the abuse heaped upon him, by people professing to be the servants of Him "in whom there is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, male nor female."

See with what Christian humility he alludes to such treatment, as contrasted with the manly indignation which he displayed in repelling slanders. He speaks of "the Lord wiping off such insults at his coming;" when his enemies, with the utmost familiarity and a.s.surance, may approach the judgment-seat, and demand their crowns. "Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?" And it may be answered unto them: "I never knew you; depart from me, ye that work iniquity."

In Great Britain, the off-scourings of the earth can say who they are, and no prejudices are entertained against them. Half-caste Hindoos, Malays, Hottentots, and Negroes, are "sent home," to be educated, and made pets of, and have the choice of white women given to them for wives; but the children of a Scottish Christian Gipsy gentleman, or of a Scottish Christian Gipsy gentlewoman, dare not say who they are, were it almost to save their lives. Scottish people will wonder at what caste in India can mean, deplore its existence, and pray to G.o.d to remove it, that "the gospel may have free course and be glorified;" yet scowl--silently and sullenly scowl--at the bare mention of John Bunyan having been a Gipsy! Scottish religious journals will not tolerate the idea to appear in their columns! To such people I would say, Offer up no more prayers to Almighty G.o.d, to remove caste from India, until they themselves have removed from the land this prejudice of caste, that hangs like an incubus upon so many of their fellow-subjects at home. It is quite time enough to carry such pet.i.tions to the Deity, when every Scottish Gipsy can make a return of himself in the census, or proclaim himself a Gipsy at the cross, or from the house-top, if need be; or, at least, after steps have been taken by the public to that end. But some of my countrymen may say: "What are we to do, under the circ.u.mstances?"

And I reply: "Endeavour to be yourselves, and judge of this subject as it ought to be judged. You can, at least, try to guard against your children acquiring your own prejudices." To the rising town generation, I would look with more hope to see a better feeling entertained for the name of Gipsy. But I look with more confidence to the English than Scottish people; for this question of "folk" is very apt to rankle and fester in the Scottish mind. I wish, then, that the British, and more especially the Scottish, public should consider itself as cited before the bar of the world, and not only the bar of the world, but the bar of posterity, to plead on the Gipsy question, that it may be seen if this is the only instance in which justice is not to be done to a part of the British population. With the evidence furnished in the present work, I submit the name of Bunyan, as a case in point, to test the principle at issue. Let British people beware how they approach this subject, for there are great principles involved in it. The social emanc.i.p.ation of the Gipsies is a question which British people have to consider for the future.

The day is gone by when it cannot be said who John Bunyan was. In Cowper's time, his _name_ dare not be mentioned, "lest it should move a sneer." Let us hope that we are living in happier times. Tinkering was Bunyan's _occupation_; his _race_ the Gipsy--a fact that cannot be questioned. His having been a Gipsy adds, by contrast, a l.u.s.tre to his name, and reflects an immortality upon his character; and he stands out, from among all the men of the latter half of the seventeenth century, in all his solitary grandeur, a monument of the grace of G.o.d, and a prodigy of genius. Let us, then, enroll John Bunyan as the first (that is known to the world) of eminent Gipsies, the prince of allegorists, and one of the most remarkable of men and Christians. What others of this race there may be who have distinguished themselves among mankind, are known to G.o.d and, it may be, some of the Gipsies. The saintly Doctor to whom I have alluded was one of this singular people; and one beyond question, for his admission of the fact cannot be denied by any one. Any life of John Bunyan, or any edition of his works, that does not contain a record of the fact of his having been a Gipsy, lacks the most important feature connected with the man that makes everything relating to him personally interesting to mankind. It should even contain a short dissertation on the Gipsies, and have, as a frontispiece, a Gipsy's camp, with all its appurtenances. The reader may believe that such a thing may be seen, and that, perhaps, not before long.

It strikes me as something very singular, that Mr. Borrow, "whose acquaintance with the Gipsy race, in general, dates from a very early period of his life;" who "has lived more with Gipsies than Scotchmen;"

and than whom "no one ever enjoyed better opportunities for a close scrutiny of their ways and habits," should have told us so little about the Gipsies. In all his writings on the Gipsies, he alludes to two mixed Gipsies only--the Spanish half-pay captain, and the English flaming tinman--in a way as if these were the merest of accidents, and meant nothing. He has told us nothing of the Gipsies but what was known before, with the exception, as far as my memory serves me, of the custom of the Spanish Gipsy, dressing her daughter in such a way as to protect her virginity; the existence of the tribe, in a civilized state, in Moscow; and the habit of the members of the race possessing two names; all of which are, doubtless, interesting pieces of information. The Spanish Gipsy marriage ceremony was described, long before him, by Dr.

Bright; and Twiss, as far back as 1723, bears testimony to the virtue of Gipsy females, inasmuch as they were not to be procured in any way.

Twiss also bears very positive testimony on a point to which Mr. Borrow has not alluded, viz.: the honesty of Spanish Gipsy innkeepers, in one respect, at least, that, although he frequently left his linen, spoons, &c., at their mercy, he never lost an article belonging to him. He alludes, in his travels, to the subject of the Gipsies incidentally; and his testimony is, therefore, worthy of every credit, on the points on which he speaks. In Mr. Borrow's writings upon the Gipsies, we find only sketches of certain individuals of the race, whom he seems to have fallen in with, and not a proper account of the nation. These writings have done more injury to the tribe than, perhaps, anything that ever appeared on the subject. I have met with Gipsies--respectable young men--who complained bitterly of Mr. Borrow's account of their race; and they did that with good reason; for his attempt at generalization on the subject of the people, is as great a curiosity as ever I set my eyes upon. How unsatisfactory are Mr. Borrow's opinions on the Gipsy question, when he speaks of the "decadence" of the race, when it is only pa.s.sing from its first stage of existence--the tent. This he does in his Appendix to the Romany Rye; and it is nearly all that can be drawn from his writings on the Gipsies, in regard to their future history.

I do not expect to meet among American people, generally, with the prejudice against the name of Gipsy that prevails in Europe; for, in Europe, the prejudice is traditional--a question of the nursery--while, in America, it is derived, for the most part, from novels. American people will, of course, form their own opinion upon the tented or any other kind of Gipsies, as their behaviour warrants; but what prejudice can they have for the Gipsy race as such? As a race, it is, physically, as fine a one as ever came out of Asia; although, at the present day, it is so much mixed with the white blood, as hardly to be observable in many, and absolutely not so in others, who follow the ordinary vocations of other men. What prejudice can Americans have against Gipsy blood as such? What prejudice can they have to the Maryland farmers who have been settled, for at least two generations, near Annapolis, merely because they are Gipsies and speak Gipsy? If there is any people in the world who might be expected to view the subject of the Gipsies dispa.s.sionately, it ought to be the people of America; for surely they have prejudices enough in regard to race; prejudices, the object of which is independent of character or condition--something that stares them in the face, and cannot be got rid of. If they have the practical sagacity to perceive the bearings of the Gipsy question, they should at once take it up, and treat it in the manner which the age demands. They have certainly an opportunity of stealing a march upon English people in this matter.

Part of what I have said in reference to Bunyan, I was desirous of having inserted in a respectable American religious journal, but I did not succeed in it. "It would take up too much room in the paper, and give rise to more discussion than they could afford to print."--"Perhaps you would not wish it to be said that John Bunyan was a Gipsy?"--"Oh, not at all," replied the editor, colouring up a little. I found that several of these papers devoted a pretty fair portion of their s.p.a.ce to such articles as funny monkey stories, and descriptions of rat-trap and cow-tail-holder patents; but for anything of so very little importance as that which referred to John Bunyan, they could afford no room whatever. Who cared to know who John Bunyan was? What purpose could it serve? Who would be benefited by it? But funny monkey stories are pleasant reading; every housewife should know how to keep down her rats; and every farmer should be taught how to keep his cows' tails from whisking their milk in his face, while it is being drawn into the pail.

Not succeeding with the religious papers, I found expression to my sentiments in one of the "unG.o.dly weeklies," which devote their columns to rats, monkeys, and cows, and a little to mankind; and there I found a feeling of sympathy for Bunyan. Let it not be said, in after times, that the descendants of the Puritans allowed themselves to be frightened by a scare-crow, or put to flight by the shake of a rag.

I am afraid that the native-born quarrelsomeness of disposition about "folk," and things in general, which characterizes Scottish people, will prove a bar to the Gipsies owning themselves up in Scotland. Go into any Scottish village you like, and ascertain the feelings which the inhabitants entertain for each other, and you will find that such a one is a "poor grocer body;" that another belongs to a "shoemaker pack,"

another to a "tailor pack," another to a "cadger pack," another to a "collier pack," and another to a "low Tinkler pack;" another to a "bad nest," and another to a "very bad nest." And it is pretty much the same with the better cla.s.ses. Now, how could the Gipsy tribe live amid such elements, if it did not keep everything connected with itself hidden from all the other "packs" surrounding it? And is it consonant with reason to say, that a Scotchman should be rated as standing at the bottom of all the various "packs" and "nests," simply because he has Gipsy blood in his veins? Yet, I meet with Scotchmen in the New World, who express such a feeling towards the Gipsies. This quarrelling about "folk" reigns supreme in Scotland; and, what is worse, it is brought with the people to America. It is inherent in them to be personal and intolerant, among themselves, and to talk of, and sneer at, each other, and "cast up things." In that respect, a community of Scotch people presents a peculiarity of mental feeling that is hardly to be found in one of any other people. When they come together, in social intercourse, there is frequently, if not generally, a hearty, if not a boisterous, flow of feeling, and, if the bottle contributes to the entertainment, a foam upon the surface; but the under-tow and ground-swell are frequently long in subsiding. Even in America, where they are reputed to have the clanishness of Jews, we will find within their respective circles, more heart-burnings, jealousies, envyings, and quarrellings, (but little or no Irish fighting, for they are rather given to "taking care of their characters,") than is to be found among almost any other people. At the best, there may be said to be an armed truce always to be found existing among them. Still, all that is not known to people outside of these circles; for those within them are animated by a common national sentiment, which leads them to conceal such feelings from others, so as to "uphold the credit of their country," wherever they go. It will be a difficult matter to get the Gipsies heartily acknowledged among such elements as equals; for it makes many a native Scot wild, to tell him that there are Scottish Gipsies as good, if not better, men than he is, or any kith or kin that belongs to him.

And yet, it is not the Scottish gentleman--the gentleman by birth, rearing, education, mind, or manners--who will be backward to a.s.sist in raising up, and dignifying, the name of Gipsy. No; it will be the low-minded and ignorant Scots; people who are always either fawning upon, or sneering at, those above them, or trampling, or attempting to trample, upon those below them. It is very apt to be that cla.s.s which Lord Jeffrey describes as "having a double allowance of selfishness, with a top-dressing of pedantry and conceit," and some of the "but and ben" gentry, who will sneer most at the word Gipsy. It is the flunkey, who lives and brings up his family upon the cast-off clothes and broken victuals of others, and out for whom such things would find their way to the rag-basket and the pigs; 'tis he and his children who are too often the most difficult to please in the matter of descent, and the most likely to perpetuate the prejudice against the Gipsy tribe.

I have taken some trouble to ascertain the feelings of Scotchmen in America towards the Scottish Gipsies, such as they are represented in these pages; and I find that, among the really educated and liberally brought up cla.s.ses, there are not to be discovered those prejudices against them, that are expressed by the lower cla.s.ses, and especially those from country places. It is natural for the former kind of people to take the most liberal view of a question like the present; for they are, in a measure, satisfied with their position in life; while, with the lower cla.s.ses, it is a feeling of restless discontentment that leads them to strive to get some one under them. No one would seem to like to be at the bottom of any society; and nowhere less so than in Scotland. A good education and up-bringing, and a knowledge of the world, likewise give a person a more liberal cast of mind, wherewith to form an opinion upon the subject of the Gipsies; and it is upon such that I would mainly rely in an attempt to raise up the name of Gipsy. Among the lower cla.s.ses of my own countrymen, I find individuals all that could be desired in the matter of esteeming the Gipsies, according to the characters they bear, and the positions they occupy in life; but they are exceptions to the cla.s.ses to which they belong. Here is a specimen of the kind of Scot the most difficult to break in to entertaining a proper feeling upon the subject of the Gipsies:

By birth, he is a child of that dependent cla.s.s that gets a due share of the broken victuals and cast-off clothes of other people. His parents are decent and honest enough people, but very conceited and self-sufficient. Any person in the shape of a mechanic, a labourer, or a peasant, appears as n.o.body to them; although, in independence, and even circ.u.mstances, they are not to be compared to many a peasant. The "oldest bairn" takes his departure for the New World, "with the firm determination to show to the world that he is a man," and "teach the Yankees something." The first thing he does to "show the world that he is a man," is to sneer, behave rudely, and attempt to pick quarrels with a better cla.s.s of his own countrymen, when he comes in contact with them. Providence has not been over-indulgent with him in the matters of perceptors or reflectors; for, what little he knows, he has acquired in the manner that chickens pick up their food, when it is placed before them. But he has been gifted with a wonderful amount of self-conceit, which nothing can break down in him, however much it may be abashed for the moment. No one boasts more of his "family," to those who do not know who his family are, although his family were brought up in a cage, and so small a cage, that some of them must have roosted on the spars overhead at night. No one is more independent, none more patriotic; no one boasts more of Wallace and Bruce, Burns and Scott, and all the worthies; to him there is no place in the world like "auld Scotland yet;" no one glories more in "the n.o.ble qualities of the Scot;" and none's face burns with more importance in upholding, unchallenged, what he claims to be his character; yet the individual is a compound of conceit and selfishness, meanness and sordidness, and is estimated, wherever he goes, as a "perfect sweep." Although no one is more given to toasting, "Brithers a' the world o'er," and, "A man's a man for a'

that," yet speak of the Gipsies to him, and he exclaims: "Thank G.o.d!

there's no a drap o' Gipsy blood in me; no one drap o't!" Not only is he unable to comprehend the subject, but he is unwilling to hear the word Gipsy mentioned. In short, he turns up his nose at the subject, and howls like a dog.[324]

[324] It is interesting to compare this feeling with that of the lowest order of Spaniards, as described by Mr. Borrow. "The outcast of the prison and the _presidio_, who calls himself Spaniard, would feel insulted by being termed Gitano, and would thank G.o.d that he is not."

_Page 386._

It is the better kind of Scottish people, in whatever sphere of life they are to be found, on whom the greatest reliance is to be placed in raising up and dignifying the word Gipsy. This peculiar family of mankind has been fully three centuries and a half in the country, and it is high time that it should be acknowledged, in some form or other; high time, certainly, that we should know something about it. To an intelligent people it must appear utterly ridiculous that a prejudice is to be entertained against any Scotchman, without knowing who that Scotchman is, merely on account of his blood. Nor will any intelligent Scotchman, after the appearance of this work, be apt to say that he does not understand the subject of the Gipsies; or that they cease to be Gipsies by leaving the tent, or by a change of character or habits, or by their blood getting mixed. It will not do for any one to snap at the heels of this question: he must look at it steadily, and approach it with a clear head, a firm hand, and a Christian heart, and remove this stigma that has been allowed to attach to his country. No one in particular can be blamed for the position which the Gipsies occupy in the country: let by-gones be by-gones; let us look to the future for that expression of opinion which the subject calls for. This much I feel satisfied of, that if the Gipsy subject is properly handled, it would result in the name becoming as much an object of respect and attachment in many of the race, as it is now considered a reproach in others. There is much that is interesting in the name, and nothing necessarily low or vulgar a.s.sociated with it; although there is much that is wild and barbarous connected with the descent, which is peculiar to the descent of all original tribes. It is unnecessary to say, that in a part of the race, we still find much that is wild, and barbarous, and roguish.

The latter part of the Gipsy nation, whether settled or itinerant, must be reached indirectly, for reasons which have already been given; for it does not serve much purpose to interfere too directly with them, as Gipsies. We should bring a reflective influence to bear upon them, by holding up to their observation, some of their own race in respectable positions in life, and respected by the world, as men, though not known to be Gipsies. I could propose no better plan to be adopted, with some of these people, than to give them a copy of the present work, along with the Pilgrim's Progress, containing a short account of the Gipsies, and a Gipsy's encampment for a frontispiece. The world may well believe that the Gipsies would read both of them, and be greatly benefited by the Pilgrim's Progress; for, as a race, they are exceedingly vain about anything connected with themselves. Said I to some English Gipsies: "You are the vainest people in the world; you think a vast deal of yourselves." "There is good reason for that," they replied; "if we do not think something of ourselves, there are no others to do it for us."

Now since John Bunyan has become so famous throughout the world, and so honoured by all sects and parties, what an inimitable instrument Providence has placed in our hands wherewith to raise up the name of Gipsy! Through him we can touch the heart of Christendom! I am well aware that the Church of Scotland has, or at least had, a mission among the itinerant Scottish Gipsies. In addition to the means adopted by this mission, to improve these Gipsies, it would be well to take such steps as I have suggested, so as to raise up the name of Gipsy. For, in this way, the Gipsies, of all cla.s.ses, would see that they are not outcasts; but that the prejudices which people entertain for them are applicable to their ways of life, only, and not to their blood or descent, tribe or language. Their hearts would then become more easily touched, their affections more readily secured; and the attempt made to improve them would have a much better chance of being successful. A little judgment is necessary in conducting an intercourse with the wild Gipsy, or, indeed, any kind of Gipsy; it is very advisable to speak well of "the blood," and never to confound the race with the conduct of part of it.

There is hardly anything that can give a poor Gipsy greater pleasure than to tell him something about his people, and particularly should they be in a respectable position in life, and be attached to their nation. It serves no great purpose to appear too serious with such a person, for that soon tires him. It is much better to keep him a little buoyant and cheerful, with anecdotes and stories, for that is his natural character; and to take advantage of occasional opportunities, to slip in advices that are to be of use to him. What is called long-facedness is entirely thrown away upon a Gipsy of this kind.

I am very much inclined to believe that a Gipsy, well up in the scale of Scottish society, experiences, in one respect, nearly the same feelings in coming in contact with a wild Gipsy, that are peculiar to any other person. These are of a very singular nature. At first, we feel as if we were going into the lair of a wild animal, or putting our finger into a snake's mouth; such is the result of the prejudice in which we have been reared from infancy; but these feelings become greatly modified as we get accustomed to the people. The world has never had the opportunity of fairly contemplating any other kind of Gipsy; hence the extreme prejudice against the name. But when we get accustomed to meet with other kinds of Gipsies, and have a.s.sociations with them, the feeling of prejudice changes to that of decided interest and attachment. I have met with various Scottish Gipsies of the female s.e.x, in America, and, among others, one who could sit any day for an ideal likeness of the mother of Burns. She takes little of the Gipsy in her appearance. There is another, taking greatly after the Gipsy, born in Scotland, and reared in America; a very fine motherly person, indeed. I cannot, at the present stage of matters, mention the word Gipsy to her, but I know very well that she is a Gipsy. It takes some time for the feeling of prejudice for the word Gipsy to wear off, when contemplating even a pa.s.sable kind of Gipsy. That object would be much more easily attained, were the people to own "the blood," unreservedly and cheerfully; for the very reserve, to a great extent, creates, at least keeps alive, the prejudice. But that cannot well take place till the word "Gipsy" bears the signification of gentleman, in some of the race, as it does of vagabond, in others.

Some of my readers may still ask: "What is a Gipsy, after all that has been said upon the subject? Since it is not necessarily a question of colour of face, or hair, or eyes, or of creed, or character, or of any outward thing by which a human being can be distinguished; what is it that const.i.tutes a Gipsy?" And I reply: "Let them read this work through, and thoroughly digest all its principles, and they can _feel_ what a Gipsy is, should they stumble upon one, it may be, in their own sphere of life, and hear him, or her, admit the fact, and speak unreservedly of it. They will then feel their minds rubbing against the Gipsy mind, their spirits communing with the Gipsy spirit, and experience a peculiar mental galvanic shock, which they never felt before."[325] It is impossible to say where the Gipsy soul may not exist at the present day, for there is this peculiarity about the tribe, as I have said before, that it always remains Gipsy, cross it out to the last drop of the original blood; for where that drop goes, the Gipsy soul accompanies it.[326]

[325] Let us suppose that a person, who has read all the works that have hitherto appeared on the Gipsies, and noticed the utter absence, in them, of everything of the nature of a philosophy of the subject, thoroughly masters all that is set forth in the present work. The knowledge which he _then_ possesses puts him in such a position, that he approximates to being one of the tribe, himself; that is, if all that is contained therein be known to him and the tribe, only, it would enable him to pa.s.s current, in certain circles of Gipsydom, as one of themselves.

[326] There is a point which I have not explained so fully as I might have done, and it is this: "Is any of the blood _ever lost_? that is, does it _ever cease to be Gipsy_, in knowledge and feeling?" That is a question not easily answered in the affirmative, were it only for this reason: how can it ever be ascertained that the knowledge and feeling of being Gipsies become lost? Let us suppose that a couple of Gipsies leave England, and settle in America, and that they never come in contact with any of their race, and that their children never learn anything of the matter from any quarter. (Page 413.) In such an extreme, I may say, such an unnatural, case, the children would not be Gipsies, but, if born in America, ordinary Americans. The only way in which the Gipsy blood--that is, the Gipsy feeling--can possibly be lost, is by a Gipsy, (a man especially,) marrying an ordinary native, (page 381,) and the children never learning of the circ.u.mstance. But, as I have said before, how is that ever to be ascertained? The question might be settled in this way: Let the relatives of the Gipsy interrogate the issue, and if it answers, _truly_, that it knows nothing of the Gipsy connexion, and never has its curiosity in the matter excited, it holds, beyond dispute, that "the blood" has been lost to the tribe. For any loss the tribe may sustain, in that way, it gains, in an ample degree, by drawing upon the blood of the native race, and trans.m.u.ting it into that of its own fraternity.

It is the Christian who should be the most ready to take up and do justice to this subject; for he will find in it a very singular work of Providence--the most striking phenomenon in the history of man. In Europe, the race has existed, in an unacknowledged state, for a greater length of time than the Jews dwelt in Egypt. And it is time that it should be introduced to the family of mankind, in its aspect of historical development; embracing, as in Scotland, members ranging from what are popularly understood to be Gipsies, to those filling the first positions in Christian and social society. After perusing the present work, the reader will naturally pa.s.s on to reconsider the subject of the Jews; and he will perceive that, instead of its being a miracle by which the Jews have existed since the dispersion, it would have been a miracle had they been lost among the families of mankind. It is quite sufficient for the Christian to know that the Jews now exist, and that they have fulfilled, and will yet fulfill, the prophecies that have been delivered in regard to them, without holding that any miracle has been wrought for that end. A Christian ought to be more considerate in his estimate of what a miracle is: he ought to know that a miracle is something that is contrary to natural laws; and that the existence of the Jews, since the dispersion, is in exact harmony with every natural law. He should not maintain that it is a miracle, for nothing having the decent appearance of an argument can be advanced in support of any such theory; and far less should he, with his eyes open, do what the writer on the Christian Evidences, alluded to, (page 459,) did, with his shut--gamble away both law and gospel.[327] He might give his attention, however, to a prophecy of Moses, quoted by St. Paul, in Rom. x. 19, from Deut. x.x.xii. 21, wherein it is said of the Jews: "I will provoke you to jealousy by them that are no people, and by a foolish nation I will anger you;" and lend his a.s.sistance towards its fulfillment.[328] The subject of the Gipsies is certainly calculated to do all that the prophet said would happen to the Jews; if Christians will only do their duty to them, and, by playing them off against the Jews, _provoke_ and _anger_ Israel beyond measure.

That the Jews have existed, since the dispersion, by the Providence of G.o.d, is what can be said of any other people, and more especially of the Gipsies for the last four centuries and a half in Europe. It is as natural for the Gipsies to exist in their scattered state, as for other nations by the laws that preserve their ident.i.ty; and although their history may be termed remarkable, it is in no sense of the word miraculous, notwithstanding the superst.i.tious ideas held by many of the Gipsies on that head, in common with the Jews regarding their history. A thousand years hence the Gipsies will be found existing in the world; for, as a people, they cannot die out; and the very want of a religion peculiar to themselves is one of the means that will contribute to that end.[329] It is the Christian who should endeavour to have the prejudice against the name of Gipsy removed, so that every one of the race should freely own his blood to the other, and make it the basis of a kindly feeling, and a bond of brotherhood, all around the world.

[327] It was the nature of man, in ancient times, as it is with the heathen to-day, to _wors.h.i.+p_ what could not be understood; while modern civilization seems to attribute such phenomena to _miracles_.

It is even presumptuous to have recourse to such an alternative, for the enquirer may be deficient in the intellect necessary to prosecute such investigations, or he may not be in possession of sufficient data. If the European will, for example, ask himself, 1stly: what is the idea which he has of a Gipsy? 2ndly: what are the feelings which he entertains for him personally? And 3dly: what must be the response of the Gipsy to the sentiments of the other? he cannot avoid coming to the conclusion, that the race should "marry among themselves," and that, "let them be in whatever situation of life they may, they all"

should "stick to each other." (_Page 369._)

[328] Viewing the Gipsies as they are described in this work, and contrasting their history with that of the nations of the world in general, and the Jews in particular, and considering that they have no religion peculiar to themselves, yet are scattered among, and worked into, all nations, but not acknowledged by, or even known to, others, we may, with the utmost propriety, call them, in the language of the prophet, "no people," and a "foolish nation;" yet by no means a nation of fools, but rather more rogues than fools. Of all the ways in which the Gipsies have hoaxed other people, the manner in which they have managed to throw around themselves a sense of their non-existence to the minds of others, is the most remarkable.

[329] The prejudice of their fellow-creatures is a sufficiently potent cause, in itself, to preserve the ident.i.ty of the Gipsy tribe in the world. It has made it to resemble an essence, hermetically sealed.