one of the rare old Gipsy family of Lees, of Norfolk, and her mother was a Gorgio or Gentile, who preferred following the “witching eye” and “black locks” to the rag and stick hovel—or, to be more aristocratic, “the tent”—whose roof and sides consisted of sticks and canvas, with an opening in the roof to serve as a chimney, through which the smoke arising from the hearth-stick fire could pass, excepting that which settled on the hands and face. Grass, green, decayed, or otherwise, to serve as a carpet, the brown trampled turf taking the place of mosaic and encaustic tile pavements, straw instead of a feather-bed, and a soap-box, tea-chest, and like things doing duty as drawing-room furniture. Mrs. Simpson, when quite a child, was always reckoned most clever in the art of deception, telling lies and fortunes out of a small black Testament, of which she could not read a sentence or tell a letter; sometimes reading the planets of silly geese, simpletons, and fools out of it when it was upside down, and when detected she was always ready with a plausible excuse, which they, with open mouths, always swallowed as Gospel; and for more than twenty-five years she kept herself and family in this way with sufficient money to keep them in luxury, loose living, and idleness, till the year of 1859, when, by some unaccountable means, her conscience, which, up to this time, had been insensible, dull, and without feeling, became awakened, sharp, and alive. Probably this quickening took place in consequence of her hearing a good Methodist minister in a mission-room in the neighbourhood. The result was that the money she took by telling fortunes began to burn her fingers, and to make it sit upon her conscience as easy as possible she had a large pocket made in her dress so that she could drop it in without much handling. It was no easy thing to give up such an easy way of getting a living to face the realities of an honest pedlar’s life, in the midst of “slamming of doors,” “cold-shoulders,” “scowls,” “frowns,” and insults; and a woman with less determination of character would never
have attempted it—or, at least, if attempted, it would soon have been given up on account of the insurmountable difficulties surrounding it. Many times she has sat by the wayside with her basket, after walking and toiling all day, and not having taken a penny with which to provide the Sunday’s dinner, when at the last extremity Providence has opened her way and friends have appeared upon the scene, and she has been enabled to “go on her way rejoicing,” and for the last twenty years she has been trying to do all the good she can, and to day she is not one penny the loser, but, on the other hand, a gainer, by following such a course. Personally, I have received much encouragement and valuable information at her hands to help me in my work to do the Gipsy children good in one form or other. I have frequently called to see the grand old Gipsy woman, sometimes unexpectedly, and when I have done so I have either found her reading the Bible or else it has been close to her elbow. Its stains and soils betoken much wear and constant use. Very different to the old woman who put her spectacles into her Bible as she set it upon the clock, and lost them for more than seven years. She is a firm believer in prayer; in fact, it seems the very essence of her life, and she can relate numbers of instances when and where God has answered her petitions. On her bed-quilt are the following texts of scripture, poetry, &c., which, as she says, these, with other portions of God’s word, she “has learnt to read without any other aid except His Holy Spirit:”—“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” “Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation, and a house divided against a house falleth.” “But whoso hath this world’s goods and seeth his brother have need and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?” “All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer believing ye shall receive.” “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters.” “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.” “I am the door; by Me if any man enter in he shall be saved, and shall go in and out and find pasture.” “Let nothing be done through strife, but in lowliness of mind; let each esteem others better than themselves.” “Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.” “Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.” “Wives submit yourselves unto your husbands, as it is fit in the Lord.” “Husbands love your own wives and be not bitter against them.” “Children obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing unto the Lord.” “Fathers provoke not your children to anger lest they be discouraged.” “Servants obey in all things your masters according to the flesh, not with eye service as man pleases, but in singleness of heart fearing God.” “The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness,” &c. “The wages of sin is death.” “Let us run the race with patience.” “Judge not, that ye be not judged.” “Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you do ye even so to them.” “He that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.” “Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.” “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” “Whatsoever ye find to do, do it with all your might.” “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away.” “He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God and he shall be My son.” “And they shall see His face and His name shall be in their foreheads.” “And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign for ever and ever.”
“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save me from its guilt and power.“While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eyes shall close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne;
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.”
“Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidd’st me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!“Just as I am—Thy love unknown
Has broken every barrier down;
Now to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!”
“Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.“Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away!
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.“I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me.”
Upon these promises of help, comfort, warning, encouragement, and consolation, she has many times rested her wearied body after returning from her day’s trudging and toil, and under these she has slept peacefully as in the arms of death, ready to answer the Master’s summons, and to meet with her dear little boy who has crossed the river,
when He shall say, “It is enough; come up hither,” and “sit on My throne.” Although she is a big, powerful woman, and has been more so in years that are past, when any one begins to talk about Heaven and the happiness and joy in reserve for those who have a hope of meeting with loved ones again, when the cares and anxieties of life are ended, it is not long before they see big, scalding, briny tears rolling down her dark, Gipsy-coloured face, and she will frequently edge in words during the conversation about her “Dear Saviour” and “Blessed Lord and Master.” I may mention the names of other warm-hearted Gipsies who are trying to improve the condition of some of the adult portion of their brethren and sisters—dwellers upon the turf, and clod scratchers, who feed many of their poor women and children upon cabbage broth and turnip sauce, and “bed them down,” after kicks, blows, and ill-usage, upon rotten straw strewn upon the damp ground. Mrs. Carey, Mr. and Mrs. Eastwood, Mrs. Hedges, and the three Gipsy brothers Smith, Mrs. Lee, and a few others, have not laboured without some success, at the same time they are powerless to improve the condition of the future generations of Gipsy women and children, young mongrels and hut-dwelling Gorgios, by applying the civilising influences of education and sanitary measures to banish heathenism worse than that of Africa, idleness, immorality, thieving, lying, and deception of the deepest dye from our midst, as exhibited in the dwellings of the rag and stick hovels to be seen flitting about the outskirts, fringe, and scum of our own neglected ragamuffin population, roaming about under the cognition that the name of a Gipsy is nauseous and disgusting in most people’s mouths on account of the damning evil practices they have followed and carried out for centuries upon the honest and industrious artisans, tradesmen, and others they have been brought in contact with. A raw-boned Gipsy, with low, slanting forehead, deep-set eyes, large eyebrows, thick lips, wide mouth, skulkingly slow gait, slouched hat, and a large
grizzly-coloured dog at his heels, in a dark, narrow lane, on a starlight night, is not a pleasant state of things for a timid and nervous man to grapple with; nevertheless this is one side of a Gipsy’s life as he goes prowling about in quest of his prey, and as such it is seen by those who know something of Gipsy life.
“And they return at evening: they growl like a dog and compass the city;
They—they prowl about for food.
If (or since) they are not satisfied they spend the night (in the search).”“Sunday at Home.”
Even my friends, the canal-boatmen, look upon Gipsies as the lowest of the low, and lower down the social scale than any boatman to be met with. Some of them have gone so far as to try to shake my nerves by telling me that, now I had taken the Gipsy women and children in hand, they would not give sixpence for my life. I could only reply with a smile, and tell them that I was in safe keeping till the work was done, as in the case of the canal movement. Frowns, dogs, sticks, stones, and oaths did not frighten me. The time had arrived when the vagabondish life of a Gipsy—so called—should be unmasked and the plain truth made known; and for this the Gipsies will thank me, if they take into consideration the object I have in view and the end I am seeking. My object is to elevate them, through the instrumentality of sanitary officer and schoolmaster being at work among the children, into respectable citizens of society, earning an honest livelihood by honourable and legitimate means; far better to do this than to go sneaking about the country, begging, cadging, lying, and stealing all they can lay their hands upon, and training their children to put up with the scoffs, sneers, and insults of the Gorgios or Gentiles for the sake of pocketing a penny at the cost of losing their manhood. A thousand times better live a life such as would enable them to look
everybody straight in the face than burrowing and scratching their way into the ground, making skewers at one shilling per stone, and being considered as outlaws, having the mark of Cain upon their forehead, with their hands against everybody and everybody against them. There is no honour in a scamp’s life, credit in being a thief, glory surrounding a rogue, and halo over the life of a vagabond and a tramp. To see a half-naked, full grown-man and his wife, with six or eight children, sitting on the damp ground in rag huts large enough only for a litter of pigs, scratching roasted potatoes out of the dying embers of a coke fire, as thousands are doing to-day, is enough to freeze the blood in one’s veins, make one utter a shriek of horror and despair, and to bring down the wrath of God upon the country that allows such a state of things in her midst.