A History of the Gipsies Part 39

Keep it in that position, and it retains its inherent qualities undiminished; but uncork the vessel containing it, and it might (I do not say it _would_) evaporate among the surrounding elements.

I may be allowed to say a word or two to the Gipsies, and more especially the Scottish Gipsies. I wish them to believe, (what they, indeed, believe already,) that their blood and descent are good enough; and that Providence may reasonably be a.s.sumed to look upon both with as much complacency and satisfaction, as He does on any other blood and descent. All that they have to do is to "behave themselves;" for, after all, it is behaviour that makes the man. By all means "stick to the ship," but sail her as an honourable merchantman. They need not be afraid at being discovered to be Gipsies; they should feel as much a.s.sured on the subject now, as before the publication of this work, and never entertain the least misgiving on that score. They will have an occasion to cultivate a proper degree of confidence in respect to themselves, and be so prepared as never to commit themselves, if they wish not to be known as Gipsies. I know there are few people who have nerve enough so to deport themselves, as to prevent moral detection, who have committed murder, when they are confronted with the objects of it; but if the individuals are perfectly satisfied of there being no evidence against them, they may confidently a.s.sume an appearance of innocence. It is so with the Gipsies in settled life, as to their being Gipsies. Generally speaking, their blood is so much mixed as almost to defy detection; although, for the future, some of them will be very apt to look at themselves in their mirrors, to see whether there is much of the "black deil" in their faces. But it rests with themselves to escape detection, and particularly so as regards the fair, brown, and red Gipsies.

I may also be allowed to say a word or two to the Church, and people generally. It says little for them, that, although two centuries have elapsed since Bunyan's time, no one has acknowledged him. It surely might have occurred to them to ask, _1stly_: What was that particular family, or tribe, of which Bunyan said he was a member? _2ndly_: Who are the tinkers? _3dly_: What was the meaning of Bunyan entertaining so much solicitude, and undergoing so much trouble, to ascertain whether he, (a _common Englishman_, forsooth!) was a Jew, or not? _4thly_: Was John Bunyan a Gipsy? Let my reader reply to these questions, like a man of honour. Aye or nay, was John Bunyan a Gipsy? "He _was_ a Gipsy."

In modern times people will preach the gospel "around about Illyric.u.m,"

compa.s.s sea and land, and penetrate every continent, to bring home Christian trophies; while in Bunyan they have a trophy--a real case of "grace abounding;" and yet no one has acknowledged him, although his fame will be as lasting as the pyramids. John Bunyan was evidently a man who was raised up by G.o.d for some great purposes. One of these purposes he has served, and will yet serve; and it becomes us to enquire what further purpose he is destined to serve. It is showing a poor respect for Bunyan's memory, to deny him his nationality, to rob him of his birth-right, and attempt to make him out to have been that which he positively was not. To gratify their own prejudices, people would degrade the ill.u.s.trious dreamer, from being this great original, into being the off-scourings of all England. People imagine that they would degrade Bunyan by saying that he was a Gipsy. They degrade themselves who do not believe he was a Gipsy; they doubly degrade themselves who deny it. Jews may well taunt Christians in the matter of evidences, and that on a simple matter of fact, affecting no one's interests, temporal or eternal, and as clear as the sun at mid-day; for by Bunyan's own showing he was a Gipsy; but if any further evidence was wanted, how easily could it not have been collected, any time during the last two hundred years!

I have hitherto got the "cold shoulder" from the organs of most of the religious denominations on this subject: time will show whether it is always to be so. The Church should know what is its mission: it rests on evidence itself, and it should be the first to follow out its own principles. It should fight its own battles, and give the enemy no occasion to speak reproachfully of it. In approaching this subject, it would be well to do it cheerfully, and gracefully, and manfully, and not as if the person were dragged to it, with a rope around his neck. No one need imagine that by keeping quiet, this matter will blow over. For the Gipsy race cannot die out; nor is this work likely to die out soon; for unless it is superseded by some other, it will come up centuries hence, to judge the present generation on the Gipsy question. May such as have written on the great dreamer never lift up their heads, may his works turn to hot coals in their fingers, may their memories be outlawed, if they allow this unchristian, this unmanly, this silly, this childish, prejudice of caste to prevent them from doing justice to their hero. Nor need any one utter a murmur at the prospect of seeing the Pilgrim's Progress prefaced by a dissertation on the Gipsies, with a Gipsy's camp for a frontispiece. Such a feeling may be expressed by boors, sn.o.bs, and counterfeit religionists; but better things are to be expected from other people.

Let the reader now pause, and reflect upon the prejudice of caste that exists against the name of Gipsy, and he will fully realize how it is that we should know so little about the Gipsies, and why it is that the Gipsies, as they leave the tent, should hide their nationality from the rest of the world, and "stick to each other."

In bringing this Disquisition on the Gipsies to a close, I may be allowed to say a word or two to some of the critics. In the first place, I may venture to a.s.sert, that the _subject_ is worthy of a criticism the most disinterested and profound. I am well aware that the publication of the work places me in a position antagonistic alike to authors and critics who have written on the subject, as well as to the prejudices of mankind generally. If critics call in question any of the facts contained in the production, they must give their authorities; if they controvert any of the principles, they must give their reasons. It will not do to play the ostrich instead of the critic. For as the ostrich is said to hide its head in the sand, or in a bush, or, it may be, under its wing, and imagine that because it sees no one, so no one sees it; so there are people, sometimes to be met with, who will not only imagine, but a.s.sert, that because they know nothing of a thing, or because they do not understand it, therefore, the thing itself does not exist. This was the way in which Bruce's travels in Africa were received. But we are not living in those times. Procedure such as that described, is playing the ostrich, not the critic. I refer more particularly, however, to what is contained in this Disquisition. Taking the work all through, I think there are sufficient materials contained in it, to enable the critics to settle the various questions among themselves.

To place myself in a position a little independent of publishers, (for I have had great difficulty in finding a publisher,) I had the Introduction, (pages 55-67), printed, and circulated among some acquaintances in Canada, for subscribers.[330] A copy of it fell into the hands of an intelligent Scottish newspaper editor, in a small community, where every one knows every other's business nearly as well as his own, and where all about the Prospectus was explained to those to whom it was given. It seems to have frightened and enraged the editor to such an extent, that I entertain little doubt he did not sleep comfortably, for nights in succession, on finding that subject brought to light at his own door, which has been considered, by some, as well-nigh dead and buried long ago. He imagines the circulation of the Prospectus to be confined pretty much to his own neighbourhood; and so he must crush the horrible thing out. But what can he say about it? How put it down? A capital idea occurs to him; he will father it upon Barnum! Let the reader glance again at the Introduction, and imagine how a Scotchman, well posted up on Scotch affairs, past and present, should credit Barnum with the production. He heads his criticism, "The science of humbug," and, in some long and bitter paragraphs, pitches into what he calls American literary quackery; the substance of which is, that the work represented by the Prospectus, is a rare t.i.t-bit of genuine, Barnumized, American humbug!

[330] The MS. of this work has undergone many vicissitudes. Among others, it may be mentioned that, in the state in which it was left by the author, it was twice lost, and once stolen; on which last occasion it was recovered, at an expense of one shilling! Then the original copy, in its present form, was stolen, and never recovered. In both instances did that happen under circ.u.mstances that such a fate was most unlikely to befall it. Then a copy of it was sent to Scotland, and never acknowledged, although I am in hopes it is now on its return, after a lapse of nearly three years; in which case, I will be more fortunate than the author, who gave the MS. to an individual and never got, and never could get, it back.

He finds, however, that he has gone much too far in his description of the Prospectus; so he comes tumbling down a long way from the high position which he took at the start, and continues: "Now, we do not, at present, venture the a.s.sertion that the forthcoming 'Scottish Gipsies'

is a Yankee get-up, a mere American humbug; but we say the Prospectus savours strongly of the Barnum school; and our reasons for so saying are the following: _Firstly_: It would be nothing less than a literary miracle, that a Scottish work of sufficient merit to command the highest commendations of Sir Walter Scott, and Blackwood's Magazine, should be published, first of all in America, thirty years afterwards--published, by subscription, at one dollar, in a book of 400 pages. We a.s.sert, positively, that of such a work William Blackwood, alone, could have disposed of five thousand copies, at double the proposed price. [He is well acquainted with the prices of books in the two countries.]

_Secondly_: There is no evidence to connect Sir Walter Scott's note to Quentin Durward with Walter Simson, or any other particular individual; and the same may be said of the _jingle_ of Professor Wilson, and the other allusions in Blackwood's Magazine. _Thirdly_: There is neither danger nor difficulty in writing anything you please, and telling the public it is an extract of a private letter you had from some particular man of eminence, thirty years ago, provided your eminent friend has been many years in his grave. Such a fraud is not easily detected. And _Fourthly_: The reason a.s.signed for publishing the 'Scottish Gipsies'

... . . is totally upset by the simple fact, that _there are no such people in existence, in so far as Scotland is concerned_. [What an audacity he displays here! What a liberty he takes with the Scotch settlers in his neighbourhood! He is evidently afraid that he has gone too far; so he qualifies what he has said, by adding:] There are, it is true, a few families of itinerant tinkers, or _Tinklers_, according to our peculiar vernacular, who stroll the country, and subsist by making horn-spoons and sauce-pans, which they barter with the rural peasantry, for potatoes and other eatables. They are generally wild, reckless, and dishonest, and are a terror to children and old women. In nineteen cases out of twenty, they are natives of Ireland; and were any person idle enough to trace their genealogy, he would discover that their ancestors, not more than three generations back, were honest brogue-makers, pig-drovers, or, it may be, members of some more elevated occupation.

[He has been 'idle enough' to give us a very odd account of the descent, in two senses of the word, of the Irish tinkering Gipsies now in Scotland.] The writer of these remarks is well acquainted with almost the whole Lowlands, and a portion of the West Highlands. He has been familiar with the shires of Fife and Linlithgow, with Annandale, the Upper Ward of Lanarkshire, and the other fabulously reputed haunts of the Gipsies [he seems to have done a little _tramping_ in his time]; and he never saw twenty Scottish _Tinklers_ in his whole life, nor _one single individual_ corresponding to the description we have received of the Gipsies. [He has told us who the _Irish Tinklers_ in Scotland were originally, but does not venture to say anything of the _Scottish_ ones.

He will not admit that there is a _Gipsy_ in Scotland, or ever has been; and virtually denies that there are Gipsies in England; for he continues:] The nearest approach to the character is the hawkers from the Staffordshire potteries, who are found living in tents by the way-side, throughout the North Riding of Yorkshire, and the five northern counties of England. These are a kind of savages, who live in families, strolling the country, in large caravans, consisting frequently of half a dozen canvas-covered wagons and twice that number of horses... ... These characters often cross the Border, at Langholm and Gretna Green, and infest Annandale, Roxburghshire, Dumfries-shire, and the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. [He will not allude to the _tented Gipsies_ in England.]

"These two cla.s.ses of foreign vagrants [why does he call them _foreign_ vagrants? why not say _Gipsies_?] which we mention, are to be found, occasionally, in certain localities of Scotland, [still nothing said of the _Scottish Tinklers_,] and are to be found as a dreaded, dangerous nuisance. But the idea of a race of Scottish Tinklers, or Scottish Gipsies, existing as a distinct and separate people, possessing a native, independent language, and peculiar habits, rites, and ceremonies, and bearing, in many features of their barbarous customs, and outcast destiny, a resemblance to the vagabond Jews; such an idea, we say, has as little foundation in fact, as has Swift's story of the Lilliputians, or the romance of Guy Mannering itself! [It is astonishing what he would not attempt to palm upon the public. Still, he is evidently afraid that the subject will, somehow or other, bite him; and, after all that he has said, he concludes:] Still, we do not, _at present_, a.s.sert that the Prospectus we have received is another 'cute move of American humbug; but we do say, if there is a James Simson in existence, who possesses such a ma.n.u.script, and such commendations of it as are set forth in this Prospectus, he has already erred sufficiently far to ensure his identification with Yankee quackery. He has been Barnumized into an egregious blunder." [He is bound to discredit the whole affair, under any circ.u.mstances, even at the expense of the plainest consistency.]

Well might a brother editor reply to the foregoing, thus: "The bile of our excellent friend has just been agitated after a pestilent fashion.

... . . The announcement [of the intended publication] hath all the ungenial effects upon our gossip that the exhibition of a pair of scarlet decencies produces upon a cranky bull... ... Now, just listen to us quietly for a little. More than two years ago, the ma.n.u.script of the above-mentioned treatise on the Scoto-Egyptians came under our ken. We perused the affair with special appet.i.te, and were decidedly of opinion that its publication would be a grateful and important boon to the republic of letters. Mr. Simson is neither a myth nor a disciple of Barnum." Upon the back of this, the first editor writes: "We are pleased to be informed that the work is a _bona fide_ production, and that Mr. Simson is no Yankee fiction. [As if he did not know that from the first.] And albeit he, [the other editor,] furnisheth neither facts nor arguments to satisfy us that our notions of the Gipsies of Scotland are heretical, we willingly accept his recommend that the 'Scottish Gipsies' will be, at least, an entertaining book, and reserve all further remarks till we see it."[!]

The foregoing is a very curious criticism; and although I could say a great deal more about it, I refrain from doing so.