Chapter II: Part 2

Whoever has read Grellman's Dissertation on the Continental Gipsies, and supposes that those of England are equally immoral and vicious, will be found greatly mistaken. The former are a banditti of robbers, without natural affection, living with each other almost like brutes, and scarcely knowing, and assuredly never caring about the existence of God; some of them are even counted cannibals. The Gipsies of this country are altogether different; for monstrous crimes are seldom heard of among them.

The author is not aware of any of them being convicted of house-breaking, or high-way robbery. Seldom are they guilty of sheep-stealing, or robbing henroosts. {45} Nor can they be justly charged with stealing children; this is the work of worthless beggars who often commit far greater crimes than the Gipsies.

They avoid poaching, knowing that the sporting gentlemen would be severe against them, and that they would not be permitted to remain in the lanes and commons near villages. They sometimes take osiers from the banks and coppices of the farmer, of which they make their baskets; and occasionally have been known to steal a sheep, but never when they have had any thing to eat, or money to buy it with; for according to a proverb they have among themselves, _they despise those who risk their necks for their bellies_.

The author however recollects a transgression of the sort in the county of Hants. Eight Gipsy men united in stealing four sheep: four were chosen by lot for the purpose. They sharpened their knives, rode to the field, perpetrated the act, and before day-break brought to their camp the sheep they had engaged to steal; and, before the evening of the same day, they were thirty miles distant. But when pressed by hunger, they have been known to take a worse method than this. For as the farmers seldom deny them a sheep that has died in the field, if they apply for it, _so many_ were found dead in this way, that a certain farmer suspected the Gipsies of occasioning their deaths. He therefore caused one of these animals to be opened, and discovered a piece of wool in its throat, with which it had been suffocated. The Gipsies, who had no objection to creatures that die in their blood, had killed all these sheep in the above manner.

Horse-stealing is one of their principal crimes, and at this they are very dextrous. When disposed to steal a horse, they select one a few miles from their tent, and make arrangements for disposing of it at a considerable distance, to which place they will convey it in a night. An old and infirm man has been known to ride a stolen horse nearly fifty miles in that time. They pass through bye-lanes, well known to them, and thus avoid turnpikes and escape detection.

Unless they are taught better principles than at present they possess, and unless those on whom they impose, use their understandings, it is to be feared that swindling also will long continue among them; for they are so ingenious in avoiding detection. When likely to be discovered, a change of dress enables them to remove with safety to any distance. Instances of this kind have been innumerable. But as it is the aim of this book to solicit a better feeling towards them, rather than expose them to the continuation of censure, the writer will not enter into further detail in reference to their crimes, than barely to shew the great evils into which they have been led by many of those in high life, who have long encouraged them in the savage practice of prize-fighting. Pugilism has been the disgrace of our land, and our nobility and gentry have not been ashamed to patronize it.

Not long ago a fight took place in this county which will be a lasting disgrace to the neighbourhood. One of the pugilists, a Gipsy, in the pride of his heart, said during the fight, that he _never would be beaten so long as he had life_. The poor wretch fought till not a feature of his countenance could be seen, his head and face being swollen to a frightful size, and his eyes quite closed. He attempted to tear them open that he might see his antagonist; and was at last taken off the stage. Not satisfied with this brutal scene, the spectators offered a purse of ten guineas for another battle. This golden bait caught the eye of another Gipsy, who, but a few months before, had ruptured a blood-vessel in fighting. Throwing up his hat on the stage, the sign of challenge, he was soon met with a fellow as degraded as himself, but with much more strength and activity. He was three times laid prostrate at the feet of his antagonist, and was taken away almost lifeless. His conqueror put a half-crown into his hand as he was carried off, saying, it was a little something for him to drink. About three months after this, the author saw this poor Gipsy in his tent, in the last stage of a consumption; but he was without any marks of true penitence. Surely the way of wickedness is full of misery!

What a disgrace is this demoralizing mode of amusement to our country! Degrading to the greatest degree, it is nevertheless pursued with avidity by all classes of people; and large bets are often depending on these brutal exercises. Gentlemen, noblemen, and even ladies, are, on such occasions, mixed with the most degraded part of the community. In the instance referred to it is said, that fifty pounds were taken by admitting carriages into the field in which the fight took place. Where were the peace-officers at this time? Perhaps some of them spectators of the horrid scene!

Verily our men of rank and fortune are guilty in encouraging these shocking practices; and they are little better than murderers, who goad their fellow-men on to fight by the offer of money. Such persons are frequently instruments of sending sinners, the most unprepared, into the presence of a righteous God. What an account will they have to give when they meet the victims of their amusement at the bar of Christ!

The Gipsies often fight with each other at fairs, and other places where they meet in great numbers. This is their way of settling old grudges; but so soon as one yields, the quarrel is made up, and they repair to a public house to renew their friendship. This forgiving spirit is a pleasing trait in their character.

CHAP. V. Further Account of the English Gipsies.

It has been the lot of Gipsies in all countries to be despised, persecuted, hated, and have the vilest things said about them. In many cases they have too much merited the odium which they have experienced in continental Europe; but certainly they are not deserving of universal and unqualified contempt and hatred in this nation. The dislike they have to rule and order has led many of them to maim themselves by cutting off a finger, that they might not serve in either the army or the navy: and I believe there is one instance known, of some Gipsies murdering a witness who was to appear against some of their people for horse-stealing: the persons who were guilty of the deed have been summoned to the bar of Christ, and in their last moments exclaimed with horror and despair, "Murder, murder." But these circumstances do not stamp their race without exception as infamous monsters in wickedness. Not many years since several of their men were hung in different places for stealing fourteen horses near Bristol, who experienced the truth of that scripture, _be sure your sins will find you out_. Indeed there is not a family among them that has not to mourn over the loss of some relative for the commission of this crime. But even in this respect their guilt has been much over-rated; for in many cases it is to be feared they have suffered innocently. There was formerly a reward of 40_l_ to those who gave information of offenders, on their being capitally convicted. Those of the lower orders, therefore, who were destitute of principle, had a great temptation before them to swear falsely in reference to Gipsies; and of which it is known they sometimes availed themselves, knowing that few would befriend them. For the sake of the above sum, vulgarly, but too justly called _blood-money_, they perjured themselves, and were much more wicked than the people they accused. But the Gipsies were thought to be universally depraved, and no one thought it worth his while to investigate their innocence. Let us be thankful that many at the present day look upon them with better feelings.

Very lately one of these vile informers swore to having seen a Gipsy man on a horse that had been stolen; and although it came out on the trial, that it was night when he observed him, and that he had never seen him before, which ought to have rendered his evidence invalid, the prisoner was convicted and condemned to die. His life was afterwards spared by other facts having been discovered and made known to the judge, after he had left the city.

The Gipsies in this country have for centuries been accused of child-stealing; and therefore it is not to be wondered at, that, when children have been missing, the Gipsies should be taxed with having stolen them. About thirty years since, some parents who had lost a child, applied to a man at Portsmouth, well known in those days, by the name of Payne, or Pine, as an astrologer, wishing to know from him what was become of it. He told them _to search the Gipsy tents for twenty miles round_. The distressed parents employed constables, who made diligent search in every direction to that distance, but to no purpose; the child was not to be found in their camps. It was however soon afterwards discovered, drowned in one of its father's pits, who was a tanner. Thus was this pretended astrologer exposed to the ridicule of those who but a short time before foolishly looked on him as an oracle.

On another occasion the same accusation was brought against the Gipsies, and proved to be false. The child of a widow at Portsmouth was lost, and after every search was made on board the ships in the harbour, and at Spithead, and the ponds dragged in the neighbourhood, to no effect, it was concluded that the Gipsies had stolen him. The boy was found a few years afterwards, at Kingston-upon-Thames, apprenticed to a chimney sweeper. He had been enticed away by a person who had given him sweet-meats; but not by a Gipsy.

I may be allowed here to say a word about this boy's mother. She was a good and pious woman, and had known great trials. Her husband was drowned in her presence but a short time before she lost her son in the mysterious way mentioned; and before he was heard of, she was removed to the enjoyment of a better world. Her death was a very happy one, for it took place while she was engaged in public worship. _Many are the afflictions of the righteous_, _but the Lord delivereth them out of them all_.

Instances have been known of house-breakers leaving some of their stolen goods near the tents of the Gipsies; and these being picked up by the children, and found upon them, have been the cause of much unjust suffering among them. The grandfather of three little orphans now under the care of the Southampton Committee, was charged with stealing a horse, and was condemned and executed; although the farmer of whom he bought it, came forward and swore to the horse being the same which he had sold him. His evidence was rejected on account of some slight mistake in the description he gave of it. When under the gallows, the frantic Gipsy exclaimed--_Oh God_, _if thou dost not deliver me_, _I will not believe there is a God_!

The following anecdote will prove the frequent oppression of this people. Not many years since, a collector of taxes in a country town, said he had been robbed of fifty pounds by a Gipsy; and being soon after at Blandford in Dorsetshire, he fixed on a female Gipsy, as the person who robbed him in company with two others, and said she was in man's clothes at the time. They were taken up and kept in custody for some days; and had not a farmer voluntarily come forward, and proved that they were many miles distant when the robbery was said to be perpetrated, they would have been tried for their lives, and probably hanged. The woman was the wife of Wm. Stanley, (who was in custody with her,) who now reads the Scriptures in the Gipsy tents near Southampton. Their wicked accuser was afterwards convicted of a crime for which he was condemned to die, when he confessed that he had not been robbed at the time referred to, but had himself spent the whole of the sum in question.

Another Gipsy of the name of Stanley was lately indicted at Winchester, for house-breaking, and had not his friends at great expense proved an _alibi_, it is likely he might have been executed. And in this way have they been suspected and persecuted ever since the days of Henry the Eighth. They have been hunted like wild beasts; their property has been taken from them; themselves have been frequently imprisoned, and in many cases their lives taken, or what to many of them would be much worse, they have been transported to another part of the world, for ever divided from their families and friends.

In the days of Judge Hale, thirteen of these unhappy beings were hanged at Bury St Edmonds, for no other cause than that they were Gipsies; and at that time it was death without benefit of clergy, for any one to live among them for a month. Even in later days two of the most industrious of this people have had a small pony and two donkeys taken away merely on suspicion that they were stolen. They were apprehended and carried before a magistrate, to whom they proved that the animals were their own, and that they had legally obtained them. The cattle were then pounded for trespassing on the common, and if their oppressed owners had not had money to defray the expenses, one of the animals must have been sold for that purpose.

Not long ago, one of the Gipsies was suspected of having stolen lead from a gentleman's house. His cart was searched, but no lead being found in his possession, he was imprisoned for three months, for living under the hedges as a vagrant; and his horse, which was worth thirteen pounds, was sold to meet the demands of the constables. And another Gipsy, who had two horses in his possession, was suspected of having stolen them, but he proved that they were legally his property. He was committed for three months as a vagrant, and one of his horses was sold to defray the expenses of his apprehension, examination, &c.

While writing this part of the GIPSIES' ADVOCATE, the author knows that a poor, aged, industrious woman, with whom he has been long acquainted, had her donkey taken from her, and that a man with four witnesses swore that it was his property. The poor woman told a simple, artless tale to the magistrates, and was not fully committed. She was allowed two days to bring forward the person of whom she bought it. Conscious of her innocence, she was willing to risk a prison if she could recover her donkey, and establish her character. After a great deal of trouble and expense in dispatching messengers to bring forward her witnesses, she succeeded in obtaining them. They had no sooner made their appearance than the accuser and his witnesses fled, and left the donkey to the right owner, the poor, accused and injured woman.

It cannot be expected that oppression will ever reform this people, or cure them of their wandering habits. Far more likely is it to confirm them in their vagrant propensities. And as their numbers do not decrease, oppression will only render them the dread of one part of their fellow-creatures, while it will make them the objects of scorn and obloquy to others.

It is the earnest wish of the author that milder measures may be pursued in reference to the Gipsies. To endeavour to improve their morals, and instruct them in the principles of religion, will, under the divine blessing, turn to better account than the hateful and oppressive policy so long adopted.

CHAP. VI. Further Account of the English Gipsies.

Many persons are of opinion in reference to the Gipsies, that, if all the parishes were alike severe in forcing them from their retreats, they would soon find their way into towns. But if this were the case, what advantage would they derive from it? In large towns, in their present ignorant and depraved state, would they not be still more wicked? They would change their condition only from bad to worse, unless they were treated better than they now are, and could be properly employed; but from the prejudice that exists among all classes of men against them, this is not likely to be the case: they would not be employed by any, while other persons could be got. At a hop plantation, so lately as 1830, Gipsies were not allowed to pick hops in some grounds, while persons as unsettled and undeserving, were engaged for that purpose. Had this been a parochial arrangement to benefit the poor of their own neighbourhood, who were out of employ, it were not blameable.

If they were driven to settle in towns, and could not, generally speaking, obtain employment, it might soon become necessary to remove all their children to their own parishes; a measure not only very unhappy in itself, but one to which the Gipsies would never submit. Sooner would they die than suffer their children to go to the parish workhouses.

The severe and unchristian-like treatment they meet with from many, only obliges them to travel further, and often drives them to commit greater depredations. When driven by the constables from their station, they retire to a more solitary place in another parish, and there remain till they are again detected, and again mercilessly driven away. But this severity does not accomplish the end it has in view; their numbers remain the same, and they retain the same dislike to the crowded haunts of man. For they only visit towns in small parties, offering trifling wares for sale, or telling fortunes; and this is done to gain a present support.

In this neighbourhood there was lately a sweeping of the commons and lanes of the Gipsy families. Their horses and donkeys were driven off, and the sum of 3 pounds 5_s_ levied on them as a fine to pay the constables for thus afflicting them. In one tent during this distressing affair, there was found an unburied child, that had been scalded to death, its parents not having money to defray the expenses of its interment. The constables declared that it would make any heart ache to see the anguish the poor people were in, when thus inhumanly driven from their resting places; but, said they, _We were obliged to do our duty_. To the credit of these men, thirteen in number, it should be mentioned, that, with only one exception, they returned the fines to the people; and one of them, who is a carpenter, offered a coffin for the unburied child, should the parish be unwilling to bury it.

In this instance of their affliction and grief, the propensity to accuse these poor creatures was strongly marked by a report charging them with having dug a grave on the common in which to bury it; a circumstance very far from their feelings and general habits. The fact was, some person had been digging holes in search of gravel, and these poor creatures pitched their tent just by one of them.

It was supposed by many in this neighbourhood, that the poor wretches thus driven away, were gone out of the country; but this was not the case. They had only retired to more lonely places in smaller parties, and were all seen again a few days after at a neighbouring fair. This circumstance is sufficient to prove that they are not to be reclaimed by prosecutions and fines. It is therefore high time the people of England should adopt more merciful measures towards them in endeavouring to bring them into a more civilized state. The money spent in sustaining prosecutions against them, if properly applied, would accomplish this great and benevolent work. And without flattering any of its members, the author thinks the Committee at Southampton have discovered plans, wholly different to those usually adopted, which may prove much more effectual in accomplishing their reformation; for by these plans being put in prudent operation, many have already ceased to make the lanes and commons their home; and their minds are becoming enlightened and their characters religious.

In concluding this chapter it may not be improper to remark, that, bad as may be the character of any of our fellow-creatures, it is very lamentable that they should suffer for crimes of which individually they are not guilty. Let us hope that, in reference to this people, unjust executions have ceased; that people will be careful in giving evidence which involves the rights, liberties, and lives of their fellow-creatures, though belonging to the unhappy tribes of Gipsies; and above all, let us hope, that such measures will be pursued by the good and benevolent of this highly favoured land, as will place them in situations where they will learn to fear God, and support themselves honestly in the sight of all men.

CHAP. VII. Of the formation of the Southampton Committee, and the success that has attended its endeavours.

Although the Gipsies, on account of their unsettled habits, their disposition to evil practices, and that ignorance of true religion, which is inseparably connected with a life remote from all the forms of external worship, and from the influence of religious society, may be said to be in a most lamentably wretched state; yet is their condition not desperate. They are rational beings, and have many feelings honourable to human nature. They are not as the heathens of other countries, addicted to any system of idolatry; and what is of infinite encouragement, they inhabit a land of Bibles and of Christian ministers; and, although at present, they derive so little benefit from these advantages, there are many of them willing to receive instruction. The following details, to which I gladly turn, will shew that, when _patient_ and _persevering_ means are used, Gipsies may be brought to know God; and no body of people were ever yet converted to Christianity without means. The following circumstances gave rise to the idea of forming a society for the improvement of this people.

In March, 1827, during the Lent Assizes, the author was in Winchester, and wishing to speak with the sheriff's chaplain, he went to the court for that purpose. He happened to enter just as the judge was passing sentence of death on two unhappy men. To one he held out the hope of mercy; but to the other, _a poor Gipsy_, who was convicted of horse-stealing, he said, _no hope could be given_. The young man, for he was but a youth, immediately fell on his knees, and with uplifted hands and eyes, apparently unconscious of any persons being present but the judge and himself, addressed him as follows: "_Oh_! _my Lord_, _save my life_!" The judge replied, "_No_; _you can have no mercy in this world_: _I and my brother judges have come to the determination to execute horse-stealers_, _especially Gipsies_, _because of the increase of the crime_." The suppliant, still on his knees, entreated--"_Do_, _my Lord Judge_, _save my life_! _do_, _for God's sake_, _for my wife's sake_, _for my baby's sake_!" "_No_," replied the judge, "_I cannot_: _you should have thought of your wife and children before_." He then ordered him to be taken away, and the poor fellow was _rudely dragged_ from his earthly judge. It is hoped, as a penitent sinner, he obtained the more needful mercy of God, through the abounding grace of Christ. After this scene, the author could not remain in court. As he returned, he found the mournful intelligence had been communicated to some Gipsies who had been waiting without, anxious to learn the fate of their companion. They seemed distracted.

On the outside of the court, seated on the ground, appeared an old woman, and a very young one, and with them two children, the eldest three years, and the other an infant but fourteen days old. The former sat by its mother's side, alike unconscious of her bitter agonies, and of her father's despair. The old woman held the infant tenderly in her arms, and endeavoured to comfort its weeping mother, soon to be a widow under circumstances the most melancholy. _My dear_, _don't cry_, said she, _remember you have this dear little baby_. Impelled by the sympathies of pity and a sense of duty, the author spoke to them on the evil of sin, and expressed his hope that the melancholy event would prove a warning to them, and to all their people. The poor man was executed about a fortnight after his condemnation.

This sad scene, together with Hoyland's Survey of the Gipsies, which the author read about this time, combined to make a deep impression on his mind, and awaken an earnest desire which has never since decreased, to assist and improve this greatly neglected people. The more he contemplated their condition and necessities, the difficulties in the way of their reformation continued to lessen, and his hope of success, in case any thing could be done for them, became more and more confirmed. He could not forget the poor young widow whom he had seen in such deep distress at Winchester, and was led to resolve, if he should meet her again, to offer to provide for her children.

Some weeks elapsed before he could hear any thing of her, till one day he saw the old woman sitting on the ground at the entrance of Southampton, with the widow's infant on her knee. "Where is your daughter?" he inquired. "Sir," she replied, "She is my niece; she is gone into the town." "Will you desire her to call at my house?" "I will, sir," said the poor old woman, to whom the author gave his address.

In about an hour after this conversation, the widow and her aunt appeared. After inviting them to sit down, he addressed the young woman thus:--"My good woman, you are now a poor widow, and I wished to see you, to tell you that I would be your friend. I will take your children, if you will let me have them, and be a father to them, and educate them; and, when old enough to work, will have them taught some honest trade." "Thank you, sir," said she; "but I don't like to part with my children. The chaplain at the prison offered to take my oldest, and to send her to London to be taken care of; but I could not often see her there." I replied, "I commend you for not parting with her, unless you could occasionally see her; for I suppose you love your children dearly." "Oh! yes, sir," said the widow. The old aunt also added, "Our people set great store by their children." "Well," I replied, "I do not wish you to determine on this business hastily; it is a weighty one. You had better take a fortnight for consideration, and then give me a second call."

How improbable did it then appear that this interview would ultimately lead to so much good to many of her people! When the fortnight expired, the widow and her aunt again appeared, when the following conversation took place. "I am glad you are come again," said their friend. "Yes," replied the widow, "and I will now let you have my Betsy;" and the aunt immediately added, pointing to one of her grand-children, "I will let you have my little _deary_, if you will take care of her. Her father," continued she, "was condemned to die, but is transported for life, and her mother now lives with another man." The proposal was readily accepted; and three days after, these two children were brought washed very clean, and dressed in their best clothes. It was promised the women, that they should see their children whenever they chose, and all parties were pleased. The eldest of these children was six years of age; the widow's little daughter, only three. The first day they amused themselves with running up and down stairs, and through the rooms of the house. But when put to bed at night, they cried for two hours, saying that the house would fall upon them. They had never spent a day in a house before, and were at night like birds that had been decoyed, and then robbed of their liberty. A few kisses and some promises at length quieted them, and they went to sleep.

After remaining with the author three days, they were removed to one of the Infants' Schools, where they were often visited by the widow and her aunt. Soon after this the eldest girl was taken ill. A medical gentleman attended her at the tent, a little way from the town, whither her grandmother had begged to remove her for change of air. But the sickness of this child _was unto death_. She was a lovely and affectionate girl, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which she had necessarily laboured. When on her bed, in the tent, suffering much pain, she was asked by a gentleman, "Although you love Mr Crabb so much, would you rather live with him, or die, and go to Jesus?" She answered, "I would rather die and go to Jesus." Her death very much affected her grandmother. She would not leave the corpse, which she often affectionately embraced, till persuaded she would endanger her own life. This appeared a melancholy event to all who wished well to the Gipsies in the neighbourhood of Southampton. For the widow, fearing her child would become ill and die too, immediately removed her from the school. And many of the Gipsy people treated the women with great contempt, for giving up their children; and the prospects of doing them lasting good, became very much beclouded. It was however represented to them, that God was doing all things for the best, and their spirits were soothed; and in consequence, the little fatherless girl was again brought to the school.

After this event, the women remained a considerable time in the neighbourhood, waiting to see if the little one, again given up to the author, would be kindly treated. By this detention they were often brought into the company of good people, whose kindness gained their confidence. They began to listen to invitations to settle in the town, and finally determined on doing so. Even the _old_ woman, who had lived under hedges for fifty years, and who had declared but a short time before, that she would not leave her tent for a palace, now gladly occupied a house; this greatly encouraged their friends, who well knew that it was not a small sacrifice, for a Gipsy to give up what is thought by them to be their liberty.

A short time before these women removed from under the hedges, the sister of the unhappy man who had been executed, came out of Dorsetshire with her three children, on her way to Surry, where she had been accustomed to go to hop-picking. Encamping under the same hedge with the widow and her aunt, she was seen by the author in one of his visits to them. He found them one evening about six o'clock at dinner, and took his seat near them; and while they were regaling themselves with broiled meat, potatoes, and tea, the following interesting conversation took place.

"Sir," said the widow, "this is my sister and her children." No one could have introduced this woman and her little ones with more easy simplicity than she did, while, by the smile on her swarthy countenance, she exhibited real heartfelt pleasure. "I am glad to see you, my good woman;" said the author, "are these your children?" "Yes, sir," replied she, very cheerfully. "And where are you going?" "I am going into Surry, sir." "Have you not many difficulties to trouble you in your way of life?" "Yes, sir," answered she. The author continued, "I wish you would let me have your children to provide for and educate." "Not I, indeed," she replied sharply; "others may part with their children, if they like, but I will never part with mine." "Well, my good woman, the offer to educate them has done no harm: let me hope it will do good. I would have you recollect that you have now a proposal made you of bettering their present and future condition. You and I must soon meet at the judgment-seat of Christ, to give an account of this meeting; and you know that I can do better for your little ones than you can." She was silent. The author then addressed these people and left the tents.

The next day he visited the camp again, when the widow woman said, "Sir, my sister was so _cut up_ (putting her hand to her heart), with what you said last night, that she could not eat any more, and declared she felt as she never had done before; and she has determined to come and live with us at Michaelmas." What was still better, in consequence of what was said to this poor stranger, she did not go to the races, although she had stopped near Southampton for that purpose.

From this time endeavours were made to confirm the woman's intentions to stay at Southampton, and to place her children with the other. She was asked, why she would not stay at Southampton then? "Why, to tell you the truth," said she, "for it's no use to tell a lie about that, I don't want to bring my children to you, like vagabonds; and as we shall earn a good _bit_ of money at hopping, I shall buy them some clothes; and then, if you will take me a room at Michaelmas, I will surely return and live in Southampton, and my children shall go to school; but I will never give them up entirely." She continued with her sister till the house which had been taken for the latter was ready; during which time a gentleman from Ireland, then living near the encampment, had her children every day to his house, and taught them to read. The remembrance of him will be precious to them for ever. She came on the day appointed, and her children were put to the Infants' School, where they have continued ever since, clean and respectable, and very diligent in their learning. They often explain the Scriptures to their mother. One of them has long been a monitor in the school. May she continue a credit to the institution in which she has been so far educated.

Although the mother of these children is not yet decidedly pious, she is very much improved. She is now able to read her Testament with tolerable ease, takes great pleasure in receiving instruction, and we hope is deeply impressed with the importance of personal religion. She attends public worship diligently, and loves Christians, whom she once hated. She weeps with abhorrence over past crimes, and says she would rather have her hands cut off, than do as she has done. For more than twelve months after living at Southampton, she continued occasionally to tell fortunes for the gain it brought her. But a remarkable dream led her to see the wickedness of this practice; for it so terrified her that she rose from her bed, lighted a fire, and burnt the book in which she had pretended to see the fortune of others. Large sums of money had been offered her for this volume; but, though in extreme poverty, she determined to make any sacrifice, rather than enrich herself by its sale. She dreamed that she was at the adult school, where she regularly attended, and, that while she was reading her Testament, it changed into a book of divination, and she began to tell the fortune of the lady who was teaching her; and while thus employed, she thought she heard awful thunderings, and the sound of trumpets; after which a tremendous tempest ensued, during which she fancied herself in an extensive plain, exposed to all the fury of the storm. She then thought the day of judgment was come, and that she was summoned to render up her account. She awoke in great terror, and as soon as she had a little recovered herself, arose and followed the example of those we read of in the Acts of the Apostles:--_And many of them which also used curious arts_, _brought their books together_, _and burned them before all men_; _and they counted the price of them_, _and found fifty thousand pieces silver_. Acts xix. 19.

When relating this dream to a lady, she was asked whether she had formerly been in the habit of seeking by any means, the aid of the devil, in order to know future events; it having been asserted that many of the Gipsies had done so. She informed the lady that she never had done so, and that she thought none of her people had any thing to do with him, otherwise than by giving themselves up to do wickedly. The devil tempted them to do still worse; as those who neglect to seek to God for help, must of course be under the power of the wicked one.

CHAP. VIII. Of the plans pursued by the Southampton Committee, and the success which has attended them, continued.

Sixteen reformed Gipsies are now living at Southampton, one of whom is the aged Gipsy whose history has been published by a lady. {72} There are also her brother and four of his children, her sister, who has been a wanderer for more than fifty years, and her daughter, three orphans, and a boy who has been given up to the Committee by his mother, a woman and her three children, and the young woman before mentioned, who has, since her reformation, lost her two children by the measles.

In addition to those who have retired from a wandering life, and are pursuing habits of honest industry, three other families, whose united number is sixteen, begged the privilege of wintering with us in the beginning of 1831. These Gipsies regularly attended divine service twice on a Sunday, and on the work-day evenings the adults went to school to learn to read. The children were placed at one of the Infants' Schools. The prospects of doing one of the families lasting good, are rather dark, as they are grown old and hardened in crime; but the condition of the others is more encouraging. The children, who would gladly have stayed longer with us, were sickly; and it is apprehended, had not this been the case, the parents would have continued longer, that they might have gone to school. Two women, mother and daughter, in one family, are much interested in the worship of God, and already begin to feel the value of their souls; and both regret that they are under the necessity of submitting to the arbitrary will of the father. One of them declared that she could never more act as a Gipsy, and with weeping eyes she said, that, she feared she never should be pardoned, or saved. When directed to go to Jesus, she replied, she knew not how to go to him. In three days they will leave us, and it will be a painful separation. It was very gratifying to the author to see so many Gipsies attend the house of God, and he frequently recollected with pleasure, that promise of holy Scripture, _For as the rain cometh down_, _and the snow from heaven_, _and returneth not thither_, _but watereth the earth_, _and maketh it bring forth and bud_, _that it may give seed to the sower_, _and bread to the eater_: _so shall my word be that goeth forth of my mouth_: _it shall not return unto me void_, _but it shall accomplish that which I please_, _and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I send it_. _For ye shall go out with joy_, _and be led forth with peace_; _the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing_, _and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands_. _Instead of the thorn shall come up the __fur tree_, _and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle tree_: _and it stall be to the Lord for a name_, _for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off_.

Six of the children are at an Infants' School at Southampton, and three others attend a charity school; and another is learning to be a coach wheelwright. This youth has behaved so well in his situation, that he has been advanced by his master to a higher branch in the business. His fellow-workmen, who at first disliked him for being a Gipsy, have subscribed money to assist him in the purchase of additional tools, to which the foreman added five shillings, and the master _one pound_. This is a most encouraging circumstance.

The aged man who has been so many years reformed, is a basket maker. He often visits his brethren in their tents, under the direction of the Committee, to give advice and instruction. His sister, lately reclaimed, takes care of the six Gipsy children, and is become very serious and industrious; and though in the decline of life, she receives but one shilling per week from the Committee. Two instances of the gratitude of this woman ought not to be omitted.

The author's horse having strayed from the field, a sovereign was offered to any one who would bring it back to him. Several persons sought for it in vain. This old Gipsy woman was sent in quest of it, and in two days returned with the horse. Of course she was offered the sovereign that had been named as a reward; but she refused to take it, saying, she owed the author more than that; yea, all that she had, for the comfort she was then enjoying. This was the language of an honest and grateful heart. On being compelled to take it, she bought herself some garments for the winter.

On another occasion, when she was coming from some place which she had visited, and was detained on the road longer than she had expected, she became penniless; yet would she not beg, lest it might be looked on as one step towards turning back to habits she had entirely abandoned. She assured the author that she would rather have starved than return to her old trade of begging; and besides, added she, "the people know that I am one of your reformed Gipsies, and I will never bring a reproach upon my best friends."

The young widow was taught to make shoes; but becoming depressed in spirits after the death of her children, she has been placed in service. And another young Gipsy woman has also obtained a situation as a servant.

But while the Committee has had to rejoice over the success that has attended its efforts, it has also experienced great and manifold disappointments. But its members are not discouraged, and it is hoped they never will be.

One young woman stayed with the Committee a month, and then ran away. She was lamentably ignorant, and could never be brought to work. {75} Another very promising in temper and habits, stayed in a family three months, and then left them to live again with her parents, who encouraged her to believe that she would be married to one of her clan. It may be hoped the knowledge she gained while in service may be useful to her at some future time. She is not, cannot be happy, and is sorry that she left her service and her friends. The father and mother have promised to stay in Southampton through the next winter, which they will be encouraged to do, with the hope of gaining instruction in the truths of religion.

A woman, her four sons, and their grandmother, {76} joined the family of reformed Gipsies for a short time, and we had considerable hopes of them all, the two eldest boys excepted, who refused to work, and who grew much more vicious than when under the hedges. Their father had formerly been sentenced to death, but by the interest of a friend, the sentence was changed to fourteen years' hard labour on board the hulks at Portsmouth, nearly nine of which had expired at the time his family came under the direction of the Committee. His wife intimating that if they were to apply for his release, it might be granted, and that then he might govern the boys, and make them work, his liberty was obtained. But within three days afterwards, he declared he would not constrain any of his children to labour; they might do it or not, as they pleased. And, in the course of the week, he took them all away and went to Brighton.

A lady then staying at that place, and who had known this family at Southampton, sent to the place where the Gipsies usually encamp, hoping to recall some of them to a sense of their duty, but was informed that the whole of the party had set off a few days before. Early on the following morning, a Gipsy called at the house of this lady, and offered to tell the fortunes of the servants. She was asked if she knew the woman who was enquired for the preceding day? She replied, that _she was the very person_. On hearing by whose servant she was addressed, she became almost speechless with shame, and said, _I would rather have met the king_. On recovering, she expressed great delight and gratitude that she was not forgotten by the lady, and declared she had been very unhappy since she had left Southampton, and that the sin of fortune-telling greatly distressed her mind; but that she knew not how to support her family without it. They had undergone many hardships. The little boys, she said, had frequently amused themselves with trying to spell the different things about their tent, and were often wishing for their Southampton fire. The next morning she brought them to see their kind benefactress. The youngest of them, a fine promising boy, both as to talent and disposition, was overjoyed at the meeting; his little eyes were filled with tears, and he could scarcely speak. He and his brother were immediately provided with clothing, and sent to the School of Industry; where, in addition to the religious instruction given them, they were taught reading, writing, arithmetic, digging, &c. Their master has been much pleased with their progress. The mother was afterwards induced to stay at Brighton, being allowed a small sum weekly. She has been taught to read by some kind friends, and many hopes are entertained of her conversion to God. A letter has lately been received, which gives a very interesting account of her increase in knowledge and improvement in morals.

A very promising Gipsy youth, who was placed with a coach-maker in Southampton, after working some time, cut his hand, and then relinquished his employment, to wander with his father, who is a rat-catcher. But it is hoped that he, as well as others of his brethren who have returned to their former courses, will be brought back, or find some other desirable and permanent abode; that what has been done by this society may not ultimately be lost. Indeed, while writing this, I am happy to be able to state, that the morals of this young man appear very correct, and that he has, by constant application, learned to read tolerably well since he left Southampton. He supports himself by selling brushes, lines, and corks, but talks very seriously of giving up his wandering habits to return to us again.

Among the reclaimed Gipsies are three women who were notorious fortune-tellers, and who doubtless have done much injury to the morals of society. They are now very promising; and there is a fair prospect of their children being saved from much sin and misery, as they are placed at Infants' Schools, where they are gradually acquiring useful scriptural knowledge, and correctness of habits; in which, if they persevere, by the grace of the Redeemer, their present and everlasting welfare will be secured. Such examples of success amply repay the Committee for the trouble and expense already bestowed on the Gipsies; and it is hoped its members will be stimulated to every exertion in their power by the good done to those in a state of reformation and improvement, that the whole wandering race may be led into the right way.

CHAP. IX. Of the plans pursued by the Southampton Committee, and the success which has attended them, continued.

A gipsy woman, of whose reformation we have already taken some notice, having gone to solicit the assistance of the parish to which one of her children belonged, met with many difficulties and troubles. She was not at this time destitute of the knowledge of religion. She had learned to read, and had become acquainted with the Scriptures, at an adult school, and by attending at a place of worship; and these instructions were not thrown away on her; for although she was frequently invited to eat and drink in the tents of the Gipsies on her journey, she conscientiously refused, fearing that what they were partaking of might not be honestly obtained. She informed them that her Testament had taught her better habits than those she had formerly known. Her children helped to keep alive her religious impressions. They often talked to her about the school from which she had taken them, of their lessons, and the observations of the master and mistress, on different parts of the Scriptures, and at other times they catechised each other on the objects that presented themselves on the road, in the same way they had been used to in the Infants' Schools; to which they often begged their mother to let them return. These circumstances, she has since said, made her so miserable that she felt she _could not live as she had done_.

Some time after this, she made a visit to a parish in which another of her children was born, near Basingstoke. She entered the cottage of an old couple who sold fruit, &c. Tea being proposed, the old woman expressed her surprise that she had not seen her visitor for so long a time, saying she was glad she was come, as she wanted her to tell her many things, meaning future events. She mentioned a great deal that another Gipsy woman had told her, on which the reformed one exclaimed--_Don't believe her_, _dame_. _It is all lies_. _She knows no more about it than you do_. _If you trust to what she says_, _you will be deceived_. The old woman was still more surprised, and asked _how she_, who had so often told their fortunes, and had promised them such good luck, could be so much altered? The woman taking her Testament from her bosom, replied, "I have learned from this blessed book, and from my kind friends, _that all liars shall have their portion in the lake that burneth with brimstone and fire_; and rather than tell fortunes again, I would starve." She then opened her book and began reading a chapter, endeavouring to explain as she read, at which her host and hostess began to weep. She told them that though she knew she had been a great sinner, and was one still, yet she never had felt so happy as then. The old woman observed, that _she_ could not say _she was happy_, and wished to know what she must do to feel happy. The Gipsy replied, you must leave off selling on Sundays, and go to a place of worship, and learn to read the Testament, and to pray, and _then_ you will become happy.

This poor Gipsy woman, who was so anxious to instruct those she had many times deceived, was soon after taken sick, at which time her distress of soul was very great; and she then said, were she to die, her _soul could not go to heaven_.

Many were her temptations, while in great poverty, to renew the practice of fortune-telling. Several genteel parties have visited her, and sometimes offered her gold, tempting her to begin again the sins she had for ever given up; but, much to her credit, she at all times resolutely refused all such unholy gain.