“P. S.—I have just received a letter from Principal Baird, informing me that my account of the Gipsies of Kirk Yetholm, will be published, and a proof for correction be sent to me shortly. It will be published in a new statistical account of Scotland, which will ensure for it a very extensive circulation, especially among the ministers of the established church of Scotland.”
Another letter relating to the Gipsies of Yetholm, has been received from the same clergyman, extracts of which may be seen in the Appendix.
It is usual, in Southampton, for a few pence to be given to a child who informs any of the members of the Committee when a family of Gipsies begin to erect their tents on the common, that they may immediately be visited by our Reader. This may be done elsewhere. It may be well, too, to buy a basket, or any other article they may honestly have to dispose of, when opportunity offers; but it is not well to bestow money on them, unless in sickness or want. When their wives are confined, a favourable opportunity offers to bring into action the sympathies of compassion in other females; and what gratitude would such an instance of tenderness beget! These poor women have frequently been heard to exclaim, while tears filled their eyes, How kind, how good to us! for favours very much less!
The author has seldom met with instances of ingratitude, though he is obliged to record one. He was interested in the reformation of a Gipsy family that encamped, a short time since, about five miles from Southampton, whom he visited early on a Monday morning. Reaching the camp, accompanied by the old Gipsy he has often mentioned in the course of this work, he said to them, “Since you would not come to see me, I am come to see you.” The camp, consisting of eight persons, gave him a cordial reception, the husband excepted, who said, he did not want his company. “You certainly do not mean what you say,” said his friend; to which he ungratefully replied, “I never speak words without meaning.” In a good-natured way he was questioned as to the truth of his being a Gipsy, accompanied with the remark, that Gipsies were seldom ungrateful for the favours which were shown them. In half an hour after, he left the camp very angrily. This man had been released from many years’ imprisonment, through the author’s intercession; but having associated with thieves so long, the worst principles of his heart were drawn forth. Before he left the camp, he said he had no care about his children, but to feed and clothe them. “Then you only treat your children as a man does his dogs and pigs.” He replied, that “such treatment was good enough.” This is a common sentiment; for the generality of parents have no further care about their children than to feed and clothe them. Such persons are not perhaps aware how nearly they come to that dreadful state of mind and heart, of which this ungrateful Gipsy so wickedly boasted.
After he had left the party, those who remained attended to conversation and prayer, when one of the women wept bitterly on account of her sin of fortune-telling. The author has since been informed that this poor man expresses his sorrow for his uncalled-for behaviour.
The plans adopted in Southampton, for the conversion of the Gipsies in Hampshire, are now generally known among their people. Not long ago, an old woman brought four orphans of a deceased relative from a great distance, in order to place them under the care of the Committee. On this occasion the old woman thus addressed the author. “Are you Mr Crabb?” Being told, yes, she continued—“Mr Chas. Stanley, a Gipsey, desired me to bring you these poor orphans.” The author being assured that they were orphans, promised, after some conversation, to visit their tent the following day. He did so, and never can he forget the distressing scene he then witnessed. It was winter, and the weather was unusually cold, there being much snow on the ground. The tent, which was only covered with a ragged blanket, was pitched on the lee side of a small hawthorn bush. The children had stolen a few green sticks from the hedges, but they would not burn. There was no straw in the tent, and only one blanket to lay betwixt six children and the frozen ground, with nothing to cover them. The youngest of these children was three, and the eldest, seventeen years old. In addition to this wretchedness, the smaller children were nearly naked. The youngest was squatted on the ground, her little feet and legs bare, and gnawing a frozen turnip, which had been stolen from an adjoining field. None of them had tasted bread for more than a day. The moment they saw their visitor, the little ones repeatedly shouted, “Here is the gemman come for us!” Some money was given to the oldest sister to buy bread with, at which their joy was greatly increased. Straw was also provided for them to sleep on, four were measured for clothes, and, after a few days, they were placed under the care of one of our reformed Gipsies. The youngest child died, however, a short time after, in consequence of having been so neglected in infancy.
The children were cleanly washed and newly clothed, before they were removed from the common. Perhaps they had never been thoroughly washed before. The oldest sister would not give up her wandering habits; and the oldest boy chose to go back to the camp again; so that the Committee had soon only three of them in charge. And these were so filthy in their habits for a long time, that it was very disagreeable to be near them. It is hoped that, though they have lost their earthly parents, they may be led, through this event, to God their heavenly Father. These children were soon baptized, and two of them are improving at one of the Infants’ Schools.
A short account of their parents may not be out of place here. The mother was a great fortune-teller and swindler. She once robbed a poor shepherd in Dorsetshire of twenty pounds, by promising to fill his box with money. Their father was a most depraved character. Their life and practices are well described in the language of the Apostle, Let us eat and drink, for to morrow we die. 1 Cor. xv. 32. The man was the buffoon of their company, and became more depraved every year. They often had a great deal of money, which was, no doubt, obtained through dishonest means. On one occasion, he and many other Gipsies, entered the parlour of a small public house on the borders of Hants, when emptying the contents of a dirty purse into an half-pint cup, he nearly filled it with sovereigns; and declared, they would not leave the house, till they had spent it all. His wife, at this time, who was intoxicated, was robbed of all the money she had got from the poor credulous shepherd, excepting one pound.
The same man once put 150 sovereigns into his kettle, to treat himself with what he called, gold water, for his tea; a piece of folly and wickedness only equalled by a fact with which the author is well acquainted, when an old man had his gold put under his pillow, and often shown to him, when he was dying. We need not wonder, therefore, that the children of this Gipsy couple should be so ignorant, depraved, and destitute. For money that is ill-gotten, and squandered in extravagance, entails a double curse on the parties concerned. But to return to the subject of this chapter.
To visit the Gipsies in their tents is of great importance. Clergymen of the Establishment, dissenting ministers, and home missionaries, have at various times done this, and conversed freely with them on the Christian religion; and it has not been in vain. Indeed, nothing that is done, through Jesus Christ, purposely to please God, and benefit the wretched, can fail to produce a good effect. The Rev. Messrs Hyatt and Cobbin, who were deputed by the Home Missionary Society, to visit many parts of England, to enquire into the condition of this people, had no doubt, but that much good may be done among them, if proper means are pursued. It has many times been proved, that to attempt to raise them in society, without the influence of religious instruction, would be improper. They have not sufficient principles of honesty, nor purity of conduct, till they are taught those principles, and changed, by religion. One, among several instances, may be named.
A young female Gipsy, remarkable for the beauty of her person, was much noticed by a lady of rank. She was made to sit many times for her portrait, was introduced into the drawing-room, and became of consequence as one of the family. She might have done well, had she not given up all her prospects by running away with a Gipsy youth, for whom she had an attachment, and with whom she has ever since lived in great misery. If less attention had been paid to her beauty, and more to the cultivation of right principles, she might now have been reformed, religious, and happy.
To those who wish to forward the instruction of the children of these wanderers, which is of vast importance, the use of tins with letters and monosyllables stamped upon them, is recommended. A little ink or paint will be necessary to make the letters visible. This plan would save much expense, and render elementary books unnecessary. They could not be torn, as books generally are. The pieces thrown away by the tinman, if the corners were taken off, would answer every purpose. To induce those children, who cannot be got from the tent, to learn from these tins, the visitor might promise them an old garment, or some other trifle. Should the Gipsies conduct themselves properly, when thus visited, a little willow-wood may be given them to encourage them in industry, and forward the manufactory of baskets. And it might be well were a small piece of ground devoted to the growth of willows, in neighbourhoods frequented by them, on purpose to encourage them thereby. It might be adviseable, too, to give them testimonials on a card, of good conduct, when about to remove to another district, which might serve as an introduction to benevolent persons, and those interested in their welfare in other places; and this means would effectually prevent all imposition, keep up the attention of the good among them, and would constantly bring them before the notice of christian society. Such kindness would be felt by the Gipsies, and, in time, might produce a good effect. This method has been attended to by the Southampton Committee.
The great object that Christians should have in view, should be to instruct them in the blessed truths of the Christian religion, imbue them with a happy sense of honesty and morality, and then reclaim them wholly from their unsettled and wandering habits; for until they have some knowledge of religion, and some anxiety to reform, they would only be worse by being brought constantly before the bad examples that would be set them in towns. Of course, such a change cannot be fully accomplished in the present generation; it cannot be expected. But their conversion to God will wholly be accomplished in time, if all Christians do their duty, depending on the influence of the Holy Spirit.
From what has been said in this chapter, it will appear, that, visiting their tents to pray for, and instruct them, teaching such children to read as cannot get to public schools, and prevailing on all who are able to do so, to attend public worship; are the principal things to be attempted, in this great and good undertaking. Those Christians who wish for opportunities of doing good to the Gipsies in and about London, will find many of them in the suburbs in the months of April, May, and June, when they generally find work in the market gardens. In the months of July and August they move into Sussex and Kent, and are engaged in the harvest. And in the month of September, great numbers of them are to be found in the hop-districts of Kent, Sussex and Surry, where they find employment. During the winter, many of them settle in London, Westminster, Bristol, and other large towns, when a good opportunity is presented for teaching, both to the children and adults of this class, the elements of reading, and the principles of true religion. For the information of those who may wish to visit the Gipsies in London and Bristol, during the winter, the author thinks it his duty to name the streets where they generally reside.
Tottenham-court Road; Battle Bridge; Paddington; Bolton Street; Church Lane; Church Street; Kent Street, Borough; New Street; White Street; Banbridge Street; Shore-ditch; Tothill-fields; and Tunbridge Street. In Bristol they are principally found in Saint Phillip’s, Newfoundland Street, Bedminster, and at the March and September fairs.
At the Ascot and Epsom races, they may be met in large numbers; and if a benevolent, kind, and zealous minister of Christ were to visit them at their encampments at these seasons, and explain to them the facts, doctrines, and blessings of the Gospel, much good might be done. The morning would be the happiest time to visit these Gipsies, as they are too often at races, inebriated before night. It is presumed little could be said to profit them in a state of intoxication, and many of the women are then employed either in swindling or fortune-telling.
Should the sympathies of the British public be efficiently directed to the Gipsies of this country, it may call forth the zeal of other nations to improve their still more degraded condition on the Continent, where more than half a million of them wander, ignorant as the heathens of all that is necessary to salvation. Those of this country loudly call upon us for instruction, which may easily be given them. Let all who have either time, money, or ability, give a helping hand; and, above all, assist by their unfeigned and earnest prayers. It may be very advisable to pray publicly for them in places of worship, and at the family altar, after visiting them in the highways and hedges. It might impress those of them who attend, with a grateful sense of the gracious care of God, and lead Christian congregations to think more of them, and to do more for them. May the merciful God of heaven and of earth, hasten the happy period, when the Gipsies of this, and of all other countries, shall embrace, and love, and be obedient to the Gospel of the gracious Redeemer!
The author laments that he has passed so many years of his life wholly careless of the Gipsies of this country. Having travelled many times through England, he has had frequent opportunities of seeing them. But, till now, he looked on their conversion as a hopeless case, and nearly wholly neglected them. He has already stated the manner his attention was first roused to consider their condition and necessities more particularly, and he reflects with pleasure on the kindness of Providence in leading him to witness those events which called for sympathy towards them; and on the mercy of God so apparent in blessing the labours of himself and others in their behalf.
The late Rev. Legh Richmond felt a deep interest in the conversion of this people. To awaken the sympathies and energies of his countrymen to that subject, he composed the following hymn on their behalf.
THE GIPSIES’ PETITION.
Oh! ye who have tasted of mercy and love,
And shared in the blessings of pardoning grace;
Let us the kind fruits of your tenderness prove,
And pity, oh! pity the poor Gipsy raceFor long have we wandered, neglected and wild,
Esteemed by all people as wretched and base;
Nor once on our darkness has light ever smiled;
Then pity, oh! pity the poor Gipsy race.Like you, we have lost that pure gem, which, when lost,
Not the mines of Golconda [115] can ever replace;
To redeem it the blood of a Saviour it cost:
Then pity, oh! pity the poor Gipsy race.Like us, you were wild in the sight of your God;
But he looked, and he loved, and he pitied your case;
The Redeemer has cleansed you in streams of his blood;
Then pity, oh! pity the poor Gipsy race.Ye, who have found mercy, that mercy display;
Ye sons of adoption, your origin trace;
And then sure you cannot your face turn away,
But will pity and pray for the poor Gipsy race;That we may form part of that numerous throng,
Redeemed from destruction by infinite grace;
And mingle with you in the heavenly song;
Then pity, oh! pity the poor Gipsy race.
It has been the custom of the author to have a yearly meeting of the Gipsies at his own house, which is then open to all their families. Here, early in the year 1830, those who were in the lanes and on the common near Southampton, met many of their kind and religious friends, who are interested in their happiness. The morning was agreeably spent in a religious service, conducted for their spiritual benefit; after which some attention was paid to their temporal wants. Forty-eight of them, all nearly related to each other, who were at that time assembled in the neighbourhood to renew their family friendships, attended on this occasion, and were much pleased with the services in which they engaged. Different portions of the Scriptures were read and expounded to them, after which they had a plain and familiar address. It was a pleasure to meet these people at a throne of grace. After partaking of bread and cheese and ale, during which they conducted themselves very properly, a blanket was presented to the proprietor of each tent, a pair of stockings to every individual, and a quantity of calico for changes for the children. There were thirteen reformed Gipsies among them, who spent the rest of the day in reading the Scriptures to their brethren at their own houses.
These people expressed themselves very gratefully. One of the families, of whom the mother could read, begged a bible. Some weeks after this bible had been given, the family was visited in its tent, when this copy of the Holy Scriptures was shewn to him, who observed many of the pages doubled down to mark the passages with which the reader had been impressed. The father of the family said—“I will never rest till I can read that book through.” This poor man now attends divine service whenever he has an opportunity, although he strongly opposed, at one time, the reading of the Scriptures in his tent.
A lady, who was present at this meeting, asked one of the reformed Gipsies, how she had felt herself on that morning? She replied—“I never was so happy;” and, after a short silence, continued—“The dinner we had last year, was much better than that we had to-day, as it was roast beef and plum-pudding; but what I heard then, of the minister’s address, was only the word of man to me; but to-day, it has been the word of God; I am sure it has.”
Although it may be feared, that to many Gipsies then present, the reading of the Scriptures, and the familiar address, were only as the words of man, yet is there reason to hope they understood it, and that they will benefit thereby.
This woman had an only surviving brother who was killed in fighting, and whose death was instantaneous. She was exceedingly distressed, and observed, in reference to this awful circumstance, “I should not have thought of his soul after death, at one time; but now I can read my Testament, I am sure that none can go to heaven but those who are born again.” And she made an observation, too, of the utmost importance, shewing the great necessity there is for the Gipsies to be taught to read. My being able to read myself, said she, has a great deal more effect upon me, than it would if another read it to me, and I could not read; for now I am sure it is in the book. She carries her Testament in her pocket when she goes a journey, and reads it to her former companions, when she meets them on the road; and if they express any wonder at the change that has taken place, she refers them to the Scriptures as the cause, and her kind friends at Southampton, as the instruments.
The following circumstance lately occurred, and will shew the improvement that has taken place in her daughters. One of them had been sent by her mother to receive the weekly sum allowed her. On receiving the money, she said, “This is twopence too much, sir.” Being accustomed now and then to give her a few pence towards buying a Testament, she was told to keep it for that purpose. “I thank you,” said she, “I have got a Testament, now, and mother has given her’s to my next sister, since she has had a bible; and my youngest sister had a Testament given her at the Sunday School: but one of us is saving money to buy a hymn-book with; I will give her the twopence.”
This incident, trifling as it may seem to some, will not fail to gratify others, whose hearts are anxiously desirous of improving the Gipsies.
In the autumn of 1830, the author felt a strong desire to visit Farnham, where were, at that time, thousands of poor people assembled to pick hops, among whom were many Gipsies. Stanley was sent a few days before to make known his intentions of preaching to them on the evening of a fixed day. While at Farnham, Stanley ate, drank, and slept in some of their camps, by which he gained their confidence and affection.
During the author’s stay he accompanied Stanley to various hop-plantations, where great numbers of the most wretched part of the community are employed in the hopping season. Great numbers of tracts were distributed among them, while the author entered into many free and familiar conversations with them. Many were found very much depraved; but none were more depraved among the Gipsies, than many of the other class; for they were blasphemers of God and his religion. One man, like many of old, stirred up the people to reject and despise the truth. He said, “No one would get any thing by praying to God;” and, “if people wanted bread on a Sunday, it would be better for them to steal a mess of potatoes, and wood to cook them with, than go to church.” Some of the poor shuddered at his boldness, and contempt of God’s law. With much impudence he declared, “that he knew a man who put his dough into the oven on a Sunday without heating it, and then went to church to pray that God would bake it for him; but that the fool was disappointed.” The minister said to him—“You know that you have told a wilful lie. You never knew such a man. There is not one of these little children will believe you.” He appeared confounded at this unexpected rebuke. May this sinner repent and be saved!
Among the hop-pickers of Farnham were many Gipsies the visitors had long known; and their smiling faces spoke the gladness of their hearts and the warmth of their gratitude, when they were noticed by their friends affectionately and kindly; nor had they forgotten the favours that had been shewn them at Southampton.
Those of the Gipsies who were not acquainted with the object the author had in view, in paying them a visit, were much alarmed when enquiries were made for the Gipsies in the hop-grounds; supposing they were pursued by the magistrates. One youth told Stanley, that he knew not whether to run, or stay where he was; but recollecting to have been in no spray lately, he resolved on staying. When Stanley spoke to him in his own language, and introduced the minister, all his fears vanished. The Gipsies were astonished that any one should travel forty miles to see them.
Their public meeting was after the labours of the day, near one of the hop-grounds, about half an hour after sun-set. A few small candles gave light to a small tenement, used as a lodging place for the hop-gatherers, where the congregation was accommodated. A few of the inhabitants of Farnham, and some of the female Gipsies, who were much delighted to mingle with them in the worship of God, were put inside, and the men, with such women and children as could not get in, stood outside, the place being very much too small for so great a number of people. The preacher stood on the threshold of the door and addressed the people, of whom those without could only be seen now and then, as an adjacent wood fire cast at intervals upon them an intermitting light. The Rev. Mr Johnson kindly attended, and assisted in the devotional part of the service; and some of his congregation obligingly assisted in the singing.
On this occasion the Gospel of Christ was addressed to many who had never before heard an exposition of the blessed word of God. The sermon was from Psalm lxxxvi. 5. After service the Gipsies were exhorted to seek for opportunities of attending the house of God; to beg of some minister a bible for every tent; and to ask every one who may come near them to read certain of its pages to them.
During the address, many of their crimes were enlarged upon, and their dread of, and liability to punishment for them in this world; and they were urged to call on the God of all compassion and mercy, for help and for forgiveness, by that all-powerful motive, that he will never be inattentive to the prayers of the most helpless, wretched, and guilty sinner, when presented to God by faith in our only mediator, Jesus Christ.
Stanley, who, after the service, accompanied the Gipsies to their tents, found that the sermon afforded conversation for the whole evening. One of them said, “The minister has told us every thing, as though he had lived with us.” Another observed, “If it be all true what the gentleman has said, not a Gipsy can be saved.” A third exhorted his children “never to say bad words again.” The little creature replied—“Then I hope my grandfer (grandfather) will never swear any more.” Many of them talked of the evils of fortune-telling, and some resolved on going to Southampton, to see the reformed Gipsies.
During the stay of the minister in that neighbourhood, eighty of them were visited, among whom was a dying woman, who very gladly received instruction, and heard prayer. A minister, in the neighbourhood, had been asked to visit her, but had neglected to do so.
The author must not forget to acknowledge the kindness of the farmers who assisted him in the distribution of tracts, &c. &c., and who solicited that some might be left them for that purpose.
This visit afforded an opportunity to contradict many false reports of the treatment with which the Gipsy children had met in the Infants’ Schools at Southampton. It was said that they were all confined, and would at a future period be transported. This shews how easily people who deceive others, are imposed on themselves.
The following letter was addressed to the author by a Gipsy woman when she was in great trouble of mind. It is presented to the reader just as it was received, and may be found interesting to the friends of their cause.
“Sir,
“I Hope you will Excuse Me for Riun These few Lines too you, I did Not Now where To Cend to My Sister, I Have Been very Il and my Familee. My Children Ave Had The Measils, They are Got Well from That. I am Sorry to hinform you I Have Had A Shockin Accedent To my Little Girl, She was Burnd to Death. I Give My Luv To My Son Job. Plese to Give My Luv to My Sister Paishince, and Hur Childern. Plese to Give My Luv To My Ant Pheny, and Plese to Lett Me Now How My Cuzin James doos Go on, Plese to Lett Me Now How My Unkil Charls and His Famly Is. Wm Duff Gives His Best Rispecs To All. Plese To Tel My Sister too Anser This Letter By Returne of Post. I Am So unappy in My Mind Till I Do Hear From Er. Dear Sister, I Have Mett With so Much Trubel Sinc I Saw you Last, That I Am Sorre To inform you. Plese to Tel my Child from Me To Bee A Good Boy, and Think Imself Wel off Wher He Is. My Distris and My Trubel Makes Me Think More of My Sister. Ples To Direct the Letter To Be Left At The Post Offis, for Haryett Duff, Till Caulld for, in Bristil. Plese To Give My Luv To My Son Job. So No More At Prezint from your Umble Sarvint. Plese God I Am Coming To See You Some time This Munth.
“My Littel Girl Met The Accedent Wednesday, April 23, 1828.”
The following letter, too, refers to the writer of the above.
Bristol, August, 1830.
“My dear Sir,
“As I know that you are deeply interested in every circumstance relating to the Gipsies, I trouble you with the following anecdote. In the month of January last, when walking in the city of Bristol, I met a Gipsy woman, who accosted me with the usual salutation of her race, “Shall I tell you your fortune?” I enquired her name, and then said, “You well know that you are not able to tell me my fortune; and I am sorry to see you carrying on such deception.” I then endeavoured to speak to her about the importance of considering her eternal welfare, and of seeking the salvation which is in Christ Jesus; at the same time pointing out the certain condemnation she was bringing upon herself, by willingly following the multitude to do evil, even carrying a lie in her right hand. She urged that her trade (which she acknowledged to be built on deceit and falsehood) was her only support; and that she must starve if she followed my advice. I reminded her that she would be like Dives, if she gained the whole world and lost her own soul; but that were she indeed to honour God, by giving up her wicked trade, because she knew that it was displeasing to him, he would never suffer her to want any good thing. After much more conversation, she assured me that she would never tell fortunes again, and would discontinue her evil habits of life. I told her that I could not allow her to make to me any promise of the kind; for she did not know her wickedness, nor the power which could alone prevent her from committing sin. I again besought her to avail herself of the means of instruction within her power.
Before leaving the city, I commended her to the care of some pious friends, who were interested in my account of her, and who kindly promised not to lose sight of her. Since that time I have received very pleasing accounts from them respecting her. They have purchased materials in order that she may be able to support herself by basket-making, which she has begun; and I trust she has relinquished her former trade. She is making progress in reading, and constantly attends the preaching of the Gospel. I hope also that she is really in earnest for the welfare of her soul. I earnestly wish that every one would take an interest in the same; and I should be much rejoiced if the circumstance which I have just mentioned, should be the means of encouraging any one to notice those Gipsies with whom they may occasionally meet, and to exert themselves in saving them from their present degraded condition.
“I am, my dear Sir,
“Yours respectfully,
* * * * *
Wm. Stanley’s Letter to the Author.
“Hon. Sir,
“As you wish me to give you some account of the Gipsies, I gladly comply with your request. I am a poor individual of that wandering race, called Gipsies; yet, by the mercies of God, I was rescued from that wandering life. In my youthful days I entered into the Wiltshire militia, when it pleased God to bring me under the preaching of the Gospel at Exeter; and it was the means of awakening my conscience. From that time I have often been led to bepity the sad state of the people whereof I made a part. I have given them the best instruction that lay in my power, and by reading the Scriptures to them; but with very little visible effect for many years. Neither did I think, till lately, that there were any of them in the world, that cared for their souls, till the year 1827; when I was quite overcome with love to God, to find that the Lord had put it into the hearts of his dear people at Southampton, to pity them in their forlorn condition; and now wonder not if I am at a loss for words to speak the feeling of my heart; for, since that time I have seen seventeen or eighteen; nay, from twenty to thirty; nay, from forty to fifty attend divine worship; and add to this the many happy hours I have spent with them in their tents near Southampton, in reading and praying with them; and some of them that six months ago would not stay in their camp on my approach to them, but would go away swearing, will now receive me gladly, and produce a Bible or a Testament, which had been given to them, and desire me to read it to them, saying, this book was given to me by our dear friends in Southampton. But, dreadful to relate, I find some children, from three years old to fifteen, who never said a prayer to their God; who never heard any one pray, and who was never in a church or chapel, nor have heard of the name of Christ, but in blaspheming; and these are the inhabitants of England! Oh, England! England! they are living and dying without God: no wonder if they draw down the divine vengeance of Heaven on the land!
“Many of these poor ignorant mortals do not know that they are doing wrong by fortune-telling; and being informed that it is displeasing to God, and ruinous to their own souls, they will say, it is of no service for me to give attendance to religion, for I am forced to ruin my soul for every morsel of bread I eat; but if God spares my life I will leave it off as soon as I can; while others who are both ignorant and hardened in their crimes, have told me it was the gift of God to them, by which they were to gain their living. Surely they call darkness light! Many of my people who join in talk with me, declare, that if the Bible which I read to them be true, there cannot be many saved. But they say that a reformation is needful, and this is promised by them; and I am in great hopes that the time is at hand. Oh, Lord! work for thine own glory, and stir up the minds of thy people in all parts of the land, that they may help forward this good work amongst these poor wanderers!
“Their ignorance and their crimes seem to have increased of late years. When I was a boy, I well recollect their parting expressions, which was so common amongst them—Artmee Devillesty, which is—God bless you. But now it is truly awful; it is darkness itself, for they now ask God to send them good luck in their crimes. I myself thought for many years, till I heard the Gospel, that God was like some great gentleman, living at a great distance from us; but I had not a thought that he was every where present to notice the conduct of his creatures, or to hear prayer. The ignorance of my people is a loud call to Christians to assist; and, blessed be God, they find that assistance in Southampton. The Bible has often been taken away from Southampton in the Gipsies’ pack, and I have seen it when they have returned, preserved with a great deal of care, and produced for me to read, with great delight on their part.
“Surely this blessed book will not be idle, but will do wonders amongst them, through God’s grace. I see the effects already; do you say, how? I answer, Was it ever known, till now, that Gipsies assembled on the sabbath day on the common and in the lanes for divine worship? Did you ever see them come to town on a sabbath day in such great numbers as they now do, when encamping near Southampton? Some of the most ignorant of them are now learning to read the Scriptures. This is the beginning of good days. Oh! the good this will do to my people at large! Nothing of importance took place in their camp all last summer, and I almost fainted under the discouragement; but of late it shows another face; and I make no doubt but it will spread, and I shall soon see greater things than these.
I am, hon. Sir,
Your most obliged and humble Servant,
William Stanley.”“P. S.—On examining the different branches of my family, I find upwards of 200 of us in different parts of England.”
This poor man, when a soldier, and in the habit of attending divine service, as a part of his duty, often heard his comrades speak of the text, on their return to the barracks. He one day made up his mind to bring home the text also, the next time he went to church. He heard with attention, and when he returned to the barracks, he said, “I’ve got the text now.” “What is it, Stanley?” he was asked by a comrade, when he answered, “The 19th day of the month, and the 95th Psalm.” When relating this to the author, he added, “I had the mortification to be laughed at by all my comrades who witnessed my ignorance.” Do not many professing Christians come away from the house of God as ignorant as this poor Gipsy? Or if they have been taught to know and remember the text, it is all they attend to. This man’s mind did not long remain in this dark state. After the above event he learned to read, and one day, taking up a Testament from the barracks’ table, he read a portion of it, (for so he expressed himself) The sublimity of the language struck his mind with astonishment, and he said, I will buy that book if I can. His comrade asked him three halfpence for it; and he was glad of his purchase; although the Testament was very much torn. The Holy Scriptures were scarce in those days, a copy of which could seldom be bought by the poor; nor, indeed, would the word of life have been useful to them, as not one in a hundred could read.
Soon after this, he was invited to attend a Wesleyan chapel in Exeter, where a funeral sermon was to be preached by the Rev. Wm. Aver. The text was, Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his. While the minister was describing the happiness of the righteous, divine light shone upon his soul, he felt that he was not that character, and that there was no prospect of his dying happily, unless he possessed it. This sermon was the means of his conversion.
The following account is selected from a tract published in York, in 1822, detailing several interesting visits that a Yorkshire clergyman made to some of the camps of that wandering and neglected people. Were the author of the little book known, application would have been made to him, for permission to reprint these extracts. But it is hoped he will excuse the liberty taken, as the design is to induce other clergymen and ministers to go and do likewise. This clergyman, having fallen in with a gang of Gipsies on the road, who were travelling to their place of encampment, addressed a young female among them, and found her not ignorant of religion. “How,” said the clergyman, “did you obtain the knowledge of religion?” “Sir,” answered she, “in the depth of winter, the men folks only travel; the women and children belonging to my family and party, always live in the town. In those seasons I have gone with some of our relatives, who live there, and are religious people, to the worship of God: in that way I have learned these things.”
“This was a practical comment on the text which says, The entrance of the word giveth light; it giveth understanding to the simple. After giving her some suitable advice, and with it his benediction, he left her; but not without hopeful expectations that the seeds of grace were sown in her heart.
“He next overtook the grandmother and several of her grandchildren. She was pleased at his noticing her, and answered his enquiries with modesty and propriety. She corroborated what her daughter had said, and in her answers discovered not only an acquaintance with the general truths of the Gospel, but a feeling sense of their importance. She said, ‘I love to go to church, and do go now, sir, when I can; but do not always meet with the right doctrines: my prayers I offer up night and morning, under the hedge. I hope God Almighty hears my prayers.’ The clergyman observed, that sincere prayer was acceptable to God any where, equally under the hedge, as in the parlour, or in the church. When arrived at their camp, he promised them a Bible, as they had none, and directed some of the party to call at the friend’s house in the neighbourhood where he was staying. Soon after his return thither, a knock was heard at the door, when it was announced, ‘Two Gipsies, sir, are come for a Bible.’ On going out, he found in the hall the young man who could read, and a younger brother, a fine boy of about fourteen years of age.” The gentleman who wrote the account, adds as follows:—
“Their countenances were very animated and expressive; there seemed to be a ray of heavenly brightness resting upon them; and while I gave them a charge how to read the sacred gift, they were much affected: the boy, in particular, listened with eager attention, fixing his eyes first on me, then on the Bible. After I had inscribed their names in the title-page, they departed with my blessing; and what is better—with the blessing of God.”
At another part of the year, this clergyman returned to the same spot where he had before been so delightfully engaged in attempting to benefit the poor Gipsies. He found out another camp, and thus writes of them.
“On my approach to the camp (where was a group of nearly naked children,) the Gipsy girls rose up, and, in a modest and respectful manner, answered my questions; while the little swarthy group of children gathered around me. To one of these girls I said, ‘How is it that you bear such a wandering and exposed life?’ In reply, she said, ‘Sir, it is use; use is second nature.’ ‘But have you any religion? Do you think about God, about judgment, and eternity? Do you know how to pray?’ She answered, ‘I say my prayers, sir, night and morning.’ I then said, ‘can any of your people read?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, ‘one of our men that is not here, can read very well.’ ‘Have you a Bible among you?’ ‘No, sir; we should be thankful for one, sir.’”
On leaving the camp, the clergyman promised to call on them again, when the other part of the family should be returned from the town, where they were gone to vend their wares.
“On my return to the encampment,” says he, “I was met by two men who came out to greet me. I asked them kindly of their names. They informed me it was Bosvill. The women and children were now collected around me. I inquired who among them could read. Captain Bosvill, for so I called him, answered me, ‘My wife, sir, can read any thing in English.’ I was glad to hear this, and asked them if they had any books. Bosvill went to a package and brought forth his stock, fragments of an old Testament, and an old spelling-book. ‘And what use do you make of your spelling book?’ asked I. ‘My wife,’ replied Bosvill, ‘when she has time, teaches the children their letters.’ I now shewed them the Bible I had in my pocket, saying, that as it was so holy and blessed a book, it ought not to be given in an indifferent and common manner; and asked, if I were to ride over in the evening to give it them, and to explain to them its use, whether they would be all together to hear me. ‘Yes, yes;’ was the reply, from many voices. I appointed seven o’clock for the purpose. I then distributed amongst them some tracts, containing passages for every day in the week, and also the tract of Short Sermons; for which they were very thankful. I told them that I intended to give them a Bible in the evening, a book which few of them had ever seen, and which fewer understood. I was pleased with the modesty of their deportment, and with their eagerness for instruction. Surely they are a people whose hearts the Lord has prepared for the reception of his word.
“At the hour appointed, I put the Bible in my pocket, and rode again to the camp. The evening was particularly fine: the sun, hidden behind some thick fleecy clouds, had thrown around a mild and pleasing tint; the birds were every where singing their evening song; the ploughman was ‘whistling o’er the lea;’ and nature, after the labours of the day, was preparing for her wonted rest. It was a fit time for meditation, prayer, and praise. Such an evening, perhaps, as that which led the patriarch of old to meditation, when he lifted up his eyes and saw the returning servants of his father bringing home his future wife. As I drew near to the camp, I began to revolve in my mind the best way of making them acquainted with the importance of the most essential doctrines contained in the holy book I was about to give them. On my arrival, I found that I had been long expected. The men, however, were not there; they were gone to water a horse, which they had lent all the day to a farmer; but a tawny girl ran with great speed, barefooted, and brought them to the camp. I now dismounted, and gave my horse, with my stick, to the care of one of the men. The family circle was formed into an irregular circle round some pale embers, some of them sitting cross-legged on the grass, and others standing. I placed myself so as to have the women and children chiefly before me. The woman who could read, was seated opposite me: the men, the tents, and the package to the right; while the horses and asses belonging to the tribe, were quietly grazing at a short distance in the lane. All was solemn stillness; all was attentive expectation. As I took from my pocket the Bible, the eyes of the whole company were instantly fixed upon it. This book, said I, which I bring you, is the book of God; it is sent from heaven to make poor miserable and dying man happy. I then spoke a short time on God; on creation; how God created man upright; how he was once happy in paradise; the way in which he sinned, and broke the law of his Maker, and became guilty, polluted, and exposed to death and hell; that to save men from this dreadful state, God devised a plan of mercy; that he sent his Son, and the Scriptures of truth, which shew unto us the way of salvation. This was something of the outline of my lecture; but I added the responsibility of men to read the book, and to seek to understand it. I solemnly charged them, by the sacred book itself, and by the account which they, at the day of judgment, must give to God for it, to make the most sacred and constant use of it, by reading it together daily in their camp. In the course of my discourse, I stopped, and said,—‘Now do you understand what I say?’ Captain Bosvill’s wife replied, ‘We understand you, sir; but we have not the same words which you have.’ In conclusion, I spoke of the coming judgment, when they and all men must stand and be judged at the righteous bar of God. The Bible was then delivered to the care of the captain of the gang, and of his wife, the woman who could read.
“Now, I said, let us all kneel down on the grass, and pray for God’s blessing with this holy book. Instantly a female brought from her tent a small piece of carpet, and spread it before me on the grass, for me to kneel upon; and then all kneeling down, I prayed that the minds of these miserable outcasts of society might be enlightened, to discover the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the blessedness and efficiency of the Saviour; that the sacred book given them through the influence of the Holy Ghost, might lead them into the way of righteousness, and finally guide them to everlasting life. When we rose from our knees, gratitude was seen in every countenance, and expressed by every tongue. ‘God bless you, sir; thank you, sir;’ echoed throughout the camp.”
The next evening this clergyman went again to the camp, when one of the Gipsies came to meet him, and informed him of the arrival of some of their relatives. “I shook hands with them,” says the clergyman, “and asked of their welfare. Never was a king received with a more hearty welcome, or with greater attention and respect.
“As I was expected, the utmost order, cleanliness, and quiet, prevailed throughout the camp; and all were dressed in their best clothes to receive me. The arrangement of my congregation was much the same as the preceding evening. I spoke to them of the blessed Jesus; his birth, his ministry, his death, passion, and grace; and his glory at his second coming in the clouds of heaven, to judge the world in righteousness. I spoke also of death, and of the immortality of the soul.
“I had not proceeded far in my lecture, before several farmers and passengers, some on horse back, and others on foot, joined my congregation.
“Before concluding my address, I said, ‘It may seem singular to some of you that a stranger should interest himself on your behalf in the way I have done; and it might be expected that I should give some reasons for doing as I have. My chief reason is a sense of duty. Gipsies have long been neglected, and left to perish in their sins; but Gipsies have souls equally precious as others, and of equal price in the sight of God. Who, I asked, cares for the souls of Gipsies? who uses means for their instruction in righteousness? Yet must it be equally our duty to care for them, and to endeavour their conversion and happiness, as to plan societies, obtain subscriptions, and send out missionaries to the heathen.’
“I said, moreover, that, ‘supposing, when I first saw your camp, I had rode by you on the other side, and taken no notice of you, nor felt an interest in your welfare; and after that, had met you at the bar of judgment; what would have been the language with which you might have addressed me at that awful period? Might you not have charged the misery of your eternal condemnation upon me, and said, The curse we are doomed to bear, thoughtless man, might, perchance, have been prevented by you? You saw us when riding by our camp lying in ignorance, and unbelief: you might have rode up to us, and imparted instruction to our perishing souls; because to you were committed the oracles of God, and you knew the way to heaven. But, no, cruel man, our state excited in you no compassion, or desire for our salvation. In your conduct there was no imitation of your Lord and Master. Go, cruel man, and if heaven you enter, let your felicity be embittered by the recollection of neglect to the Gipsy wanderers, whom Providence had placed in your way, that you might direct them to God, but which you neglected.’ In conclusion, I again referred to the holy Bible, which I had given them; and again repeated the way to use it. After which I said, Now we will conclude with prayer, as we did last evening. Immediately the same female who before brought the carpet, again spread it, with great civility, for me to kneel upon; and again I offered up a solemn prayer for the salvation of these lost and perishing mortals. The greatest seriousness and awe rested upon the assembly. Surely the prayer was registered in heaven, and shall, in time not far distant, be answered.—Come, and take these heathens for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession.—When I proposed to take leave of my swarthy flock, it was not without feelings of attachment on both sides. I had observed several of them much affected under my discourse, and now they manifested it more openly. As I shook hands with them, I said, ‘You see, I did not come among you to give you money. I considered religious instruction of the most value; therefore I have endeavoured to impart it.’ ‘Sir,’ replied several, ‘we did not want your money; your instruction is better to us than money; and we thank you for coming.’ The camp now resounded with voices, saying, ‘Thank you, sir; God bless you, sir;’ and every countenance seemed to glow with gratitude. The young branches of the family seemed to think a great honour and blessing had been conferred upon them.
“As I mounted my pony to come away, I observed one of the females, a fine young woman about twenty-five years of age, the same that brought the carpet from the package, and spread on the grass for me to kneel upon, to retire from the rest. She walked slowly near to the hedge, and appeared evidently much distressed. Her expressive eyes were lifted up to heaven, while the big tears rolling down her cheeks, were wiped away with her long black tresses. I thought—Here, surely, are some of the first fruits!—Thus did the woman, who was a sinner, weep, and with her hair wipe away the tears from the feet of her Saviour. May those tears be as acceptable to God: may the same Redeemer bid her go in peace! Her conduct attracted the notice of her family, and she was asked the reason of her sorrow. At first she could scarcely speak; but at length exclaimed, ‘Oh! I am a sinner!’ Then lifting up her eyes to heaven, she wept aloud, and again wiped away the falling tears with her hair. ‘But did you not know that before? we are all sinners. What have you done to cause you so much distress?’ She made no reply, but shook her head and wept.”
The author of the Gipsies’ Advocate, who, for the encouragement of his readers, has embodied the above interesting paragraphs in his work, sincerely hopes and prays that all ministers of Christ will, ere long, be led to imitate this clergyman in his benevolent and Christian attempts to benefit by the influence of religion and the word of God, the lost, and ignorant, and miserable, and perishing among mankind.
The following account is extracted from the Home Missionary Magazine for June, 1823.
March, 1823. “Sir,
“If the following facts should afford any encouragement to the benevolent intentions of the Home Missionary Society, which has, for one of its objects, the improvement of the state of the poor Gipsies, my end in relating them will be amply answered.
“On Saturday evening, in the month of October, the narrator followed several Gipsy families. Being arrived at the place of their encampment, his first object was to gain their confidence. This was accomplished; after which, to amuse their unexpected visitant, they shewed forth their night diversions in music and dancing; likewise the means by which they obtained their livelihood, such as tinkering, fortune-telling, and conjuring. That the narrator might be satisfied whether he had obtained their confidence or not, he represented his dangerous situation, in the midst of which, they all with one voice cried, ‘Sir, we would kiss your feet, rather than hurt you!’ After manifesting a confidence in return, the master of this formidable gang, about forty in number, was challenged by the narrator for a conjuring match. The challenge was instantly accepted. The Gipsies placed themselves in the circular form, and both being in the middle, commenced with their conjuring powers to the best advantage. At last the narrator proposed the making of something out of nothing. This proposal was accepted. A stone which never existed, was to be created, and appear in a certain form in the middle of a circle made on the turf. The master of the gang commenced, and after much stamping with his foot, and the narrator warmly exhorting him to cry aloud; like the roaring of a lion, he endeavoured to call forth nonentity into existence. Asking him if he could do it? he answered, ‘I am not strong enough.’ They were all asked the same question, which received the same answer. The narrator commenced. Every eye was fixed upon him, eager to behold this unheard-of exploit; but (and not to be wondered at,) he failed!—telling them, he possessed no more power to create than themselves. Perceiving the thought of insufficiency pervading their minds, he thus spoke:—“Now, if you have not power to create a poor little stone, and if I have not power either; what must that power be, which made the whole world out of nothing?—men, women, and children! that power I call God Almighty.”
The night’s diversion having received a change, the golden moment was eagerly seized to impress on their minds the infinite power, holiness, and justice of their Creator. This being done, the origin of sin, and the immortality of the soul, were, in the second place, impressed on their minds. Then followed the awful effects of sin, and the soul’s eternal punishment in hell, because of offending this great God, whose holiness could not look on sin, and whose justice would punish it. Representing the soul’s eternal punishment by the wrath of an incensed God, never did the preacher before witness such an effect; the poor Gipsies, with tremulous voice, crying, ‘Did you ever hear the like! What ever shall we do?’ These expressions gave new energies to the preacher, and still brighter hopes of a good effect. Going on with the awful representation, and in the act of turning, as if to leave them, he bade them the long farewell. ‘Never, never more to meet till we meet in hell! Oh! what a dreadful thing it is, my fellow-sinners, that we have to part in this world with the thought of meeting in an eternal world of pains, never to see God! never to see heaven! never to see any thing to comfort our poor souls! Oh! we are lost, lost, poor souls, we are lost for ever!—farewell!’ In the act of leaving them, these poor creatures cried, ‘Not yet, Sir, not yet.’ Now was the glorious moment come, which the preacher eagerly anticipated of proclaiming the glad tidings of salvation through a crucified Saviour. Asking how long they would stand to hear the way of escape from the wrath to come, they instantly lifted up their voices, answering, ‘All night, Sir, all night.’ Then the preacher, without much persuasion, exhibited a Saviour, in all his sufferings, merits, death, and glory. They were sorry that such a good being should suffer so much; but the preacher took care to show the absolute necessity of his sufferings. Their manner bespoke an imperfect idea of a substitute. This was soon made clear to their understandings by comparisons, when the master of the gang cried, ‘I see it, I see it!’ He was asked what he saw? ‘I see Jesus Christ getting between us and God, and satisfying our great God’s justice by dying instead of us.’ This truly made the preacher’s heart glad, seeing the great plan of salvation was so clearly understood by those who declared (although in a land of light,) they never heard of Jesus Christ before.
“The preacher sang the hymn:—
“How condescending, and how kind
Was God’s eternal Son, &c,”
and then ended with prayer. They solicited him to return on the sabbath morning; he did so, and, as he hopes, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. The master gratefully accepted of a bible; for though the Gipsies could not read, a little boy was among them, who was not a Gipsy, that could read remarkably well, having been taught at a Sunday school at Hastings, in Sussex. They all joyfully anticipated the pleasure of going to the Rev. J. Carter’s Chapel, of Braintree, in the afternoon, but met with a disappointment, arising from an unexpected decampment. About one month after, in the latter end of November, two Gipsy women called on the narrator, earnestly entreating him to go and preach to them, which they called conversation. Asking the reason, why they entreated this favour? their answer was, ‘We have heard much about your conversation, sir, and we should like to hear it. Come, do come, and we will be all ready to receive you.’ Asking who they were that told them of the conversation just mentioned, they said, ‘some of our people, Sir, that you were with about a month since. They told us a great deal about your conversation, and we should so much like to hear it. Oh! sir, do come to us poor creatures, for we have an invitation for you, if you would condescend to take it, to meet with the Gipsies on Christmas day.’ That night, the narrator walked a few miles to their camp, and in their smoky tent preached Jesus Christ the only way of salvation, to these poor, despised, neglected creatures. After being with them two hours and a half, he bade them farewell, and going behind a hedge, anxious to know what effect the new unheard of doctrines would produce on their minds, he listened for a short time. In the midst of conversation with each other, one of them said, ‘Well, I know this, if I could get a house near where that gentleman lives, and could live by my business, I would send all my children to that school there, and hear him as long as ever I could live.’ While they were conversing about Adam and Eve, and the evil effects of sinning against God; one of the women said, ‘However, you see, all the punishment that us women get, is sorrow and pains in child-bearing.’ ‘Stop, stop,’ says one of the men, ‘that won’t do, Ann, that won’t do. If sorrow and pains in child-bearing be all the punishment that women are to have, what punishment must those women have that do not bear children? You are quite wrong, Ann; you women are as bad as us.’ This led on to a further discovery, and the conversation among themselves was truly interesting.
“One of the children telling a lie, the mother touched it on the head, saying, ‘What are you telling lies about? Have you forgotten what the gentleman said to night? You will go to hell, if you tell any more lies. Let me never hear you tell another, you bad lad, for God will not take you to heaven.’
“These, and several remarks about Jesus Christ, afforded no small pleasure to the preacher, and he hopes that these facts will afford no small encouragement to the Home Missionary Society.
“Your very humble
Servant,
“J. H. C.”
Before the author relates one of the most extraordinary anecdotes with which he is acquainted, one, of which a King and a dying Gipsy are the characters, he will relate another interesting account of a visit to a Gipsy camp, which will, it is hoped, prove that such visits are not in vain, when made in dependence on the Divine blessing. A Gipsy, in great distress of mind, and with weeping eyes, came to inform him of one of their people, who was in great anguish of mind, and entreated him to visit them at the camp, which was several miles distant. The request was gladly complied with. On arriving at the tent, he found a woman sitting in a melancholy attitude on the ground; and distress and anguish were strongly marked in her countenance. She appeared quite indifferent to any thing that was said; and kept herself apparently engaged with the sticks and brands around the fire near the mouth of the tent. The man also appeared very melancholy. We learned that the cause of their distress was jealousy on the part of the man, who was called her husband. The circumstance which gave rise to those unhappy feelings had taken place several years before; yet the poor man has been so unhappy, that he has often intended to destroy both himself and his wife; and not many days before this visit to the camp, he had threatened to execute his purpose. The author talked and prayed with him, and exhorted him to look to God for strength and grace. Their repeated conversations were made useful to him, and those miserable feelings were subdued, and he now lives happily with the woman he had before hated, even to an intention of murder. This is another evidence, although a distressing one, that a want of chastity is evil in their sight.
“A king of England, of happy memory, who loved his people and his God, better than kings in general are wont to do, occasionally took the exercise of hunting. Being out one day for this purpose, the chase lay through the shrubs of the forest. The stag had been hard run; and, to escape the dogs, had crossed the river in a deep part. As the dogs could not be brought to follow, it became necessary, in order to come up with it, to make a circuitous route along the banks of the river, through some thick and troublesome underwood. The roughness of the ground, the long grass and frequent thickets, gave opportunity for the sportsmen to separate from each other; each one endeavouring to make the best and speediest route he could. Before they had reached the end of the forest, the king’s horse manifested signs of fatigue and uneasiness; so much so, that his Majesty resolved upon yielding the pleasures of the chase to those of compassion for his horse. With this view, he turned down the first avenue in the forest, and determined on riding gently to the oaks, there to wait for some of his attendants. His Majesty had only proceeded a few yards, when, instead of the cry of the hounds, he fancied he heard the cry of human distress. As he rode forward, he heard it more distinctly. ‘Oh, my mother! my mother! God pity and bless my poor mother!’ The curiosity and kindness of the king led him instantly to the spot. It was a little green plot on one side of the forest, where was spread on the grass, under a branching oak, a little pallet, half covered with a kind of tent; and a basket or two, with some packs, lay on the ground at a few paces distant from the tent. Near to the root of the tree he observed a little swarthy girl, about eight years of age, on her knees, praying, while her little black eyes ran down with tears. Distress of any kind was always relieved by his Majesty, for he had a heart which melted at ‘human woe;’ nor was it unaffected on this occasion. And now he inquired, ‘What, my child, is the cause of your weeping? For what do you pray?’ The little creature at first started, then rose from her knees, and pointing to the tent, said, ‘Oh, sir! my dying mother!’ ‘What?’ said his Majesty, dismounting, and fastening his horse up to the branches of the oak, ‘what, my child? tell me all about it.’ The little creature now led the King to the tent:—there lay, partly covered, a middle-aged female Gipsy, in the last stages of a decline, and in the last moments of life. She turned her dying eyes expressively to the royal visitor, then looked up to heaven; but not a word did she utter; the organs of speech had ceased their office; the silver cord was loosed, and the wheel broken at the cistern. The little girl then wept aloud, and, stooping down, wiped the dying sweat from her mother’s face. The King, much affected, asked the child her name, and of her family; and how long her mother had been ill. Just at that moment another Gipsy girl, much older, came, out of breath, to the spot. She had been at the town of W---, and had brought some medicine for her dying mother. Observing a stranger, she modestly courtsied, and, hastening to her mother, knelt down by her side, kissed her pallid lips, and burst into tears. ‘What, my dear child,’ said his Majesty, ‘can be done for you?’ ‘Oh, sir!’ she replied, ‘my dying mother wanted a religious person to teach her, and to pray with her, before she died. I ran all the way before it was light this morning to W---, and asked for a minister, but no one could I get to come with me to pray with my dear mother!’ The dying woman seemed sensible of what her daughter was saying, and her countenance was much agitated. The air was again rent with the cries of the distressed daughters. The King, full of kindness, instantly endeavoured to comfort them: he said, ‘I am a minister, and God has sent me to instruct and comfort your mother.’ He then sat down on a pack, by the side of the pallet, and taking the hand of the dying Gipsy, discoursed on the demerit of sin, and the nature of redemption. He then pointed her to Christ, the all sufficient Saviour. While the King was doing this, the poor creature seemed to gather consolation and hope: her eyes sparkled with brightness, and her countenance became animated. She looked up; she smiled; but it was the last smile; it was the glimmering of expiring nature. As the expression of peace, however, remained strong in her countenance, it was not till some little time had elapsed, that they perceived the struggling spirit had left mortality.
“It was at this moment that some of his Majesty’s attendants, who had missed him at the chase, and who had been riding through the forest in search of him, rode up, and found the King comforting the afflicted Gipsies. It was an affecting sight, and worthy of everlasting record in the annals of kings.
“His Majesty now rose up, put some gold into the hands of the afflicted girls, promised them his protection, and bade them look to heaven. He then wiped the tears from his eyes, and mounted his horse. His attendants, greatly affected, stood in silent admiration. Lord L--- was now going to speak, when his Majesty, turning to the Gipsies, and pointing to the breathless corpse, and to the weeping girls, said, with strong emotion, ‘Who, my lord, who, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto these?’”