Twenty pounds is a tempting sum, and there were men that day upon the
green meadow who would have shed the blood of their own fathers for the
fifth of the price. But the Gypsy was not an unknown man, his prowess
and strength were notorious, and no one cared to encounter him. Some of
the Jews looked eager for a moment; but their sharp eyes quailed quickly
before his savage glances, as he towered in the ring his huge form
dilating, and his black features convulsed with excitement. The
Westminster bravoes eyed the Gypsy askance; but the comparison, if they
made any, seemed by no means favourable to themselves. 'Gypsy! rum
chap.--Ugly customer,--always in training.' Such were the exclamations
which I heard, some of which at that period of my life I did not
understand.
No man would fight the Gypsy.--Yes! a strong country fellow wished to win
the stakes, and was about to fling up his hat in defiance, but he was
prevented by his friends, with--'Fool! he'll kill you!'
As the Gypsies were mounting their horses, I heard the dusty phantom
exclaim--
'Brother, you are an arrant ring-maker and a horse-breaker; you'll make a
hempen ring to break your own neck of a horse one of these days.'
They pressed their horses' flanks, again leaped over the ditches, and
speedily vanished, amidst the whirlwinds of dust which they raised upon
the road.
The words of the phantom Gypsy were ominous. Gypsy Will was eventually
executed for a murder committed in his early youth in company with two
English labourers, one of whom confessed the fact on his death-bed. He
was the head of the clan Young, which, with the clan Smith, still haunts
two of the eastern counties.
* * * * *
'I say, Jasper, what remarkable names your people have!'
'And what pretty names, brother; there's my own for example, Jasper; then
there's Ambrose and Sylvester; then there's Culvato, which signifies
Claude; then there's Piramus--that's a nice name, brother.'
'Then there's your wife's name, Pakomovna; then there's Ursula and
Morella.'
'Then, brother, there's Ercilla.'
'Ercilla! the name of the great poet of Spain, how wonderful; then
Leviathan.'
'The name of a ship, brother; Leviathan was named after a ship, so don't
make a wonder out of her. But there's Sanpriel and Synfye.'
'Ay, and Clementina and Lavinia, Camillia and Lydia, Curlanda and
Orlanda; wherever did they get those names?'
'Where did my wife get her necklace, brother?'
'She knows best, Jasper. I hope--'
'Come, no hoping! She got it from her grandmother, who died at the age
of 103, and sleeps in Coggeshall churchyard. She got it from her mother,
who also died very old, and who could give no other account of it than
that it had been in the family time out of mind.'
'Whence could they have got it?'
'Why, perhaps where they got their names, brother. A gentleman, who had
travelled much, once told me that he had seen the sister of it about the
neck of an Indian queen.'
'Some of your names, Jasper, appear to be church names; your own, for
example, and Ambrose, and Sylvester; perhaps you got them from the
Papists, in the times of Popery; but where did you get such a name as
Piramus, a name of Grecian romance? Then some of them appear to be
Slavonian; for example, Mikailia and Pakomovna. I don't know much of
Slavonian; but--'
'What is Slavonian, brother?'
'The family name of certain nations, the principal of which is the
Russian, and from which the word slave is originally derived. You have
heard of the Russians, Jasper?'
'Yes, brother, and seen some. I saw their crallis at the time of the
peace; he was not a bad-looking man for a Russian.'
'By-the-bye, Jasper, I'm half-inclined to think that crallis is a Slavish
word. I saw something like it in a lil called Voltaire's Life of
Charles. How you should have come by such names and words is to me
incomprehensible.'
* * * * *
'What is your opinion of death, Mr. Petulengro?' said I, as I sat down
beside him.
'My opinion of death, brother, is much the same as that in the old song
of Pharaoh, which I have heard my grandam sing:--
'"Cana marel o manus chivios ande puv,
Ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi."
When a man dies, he is cast into the earth, and his wife and child sorrow
over him. If he has neither wife nor child, then his father and mother,
I suppose; and if he is quite alone in the world, why, then, he is cast
into the earth, and there is an end of the matter.'
'And do you think that is the end of a man?'
'There's an end of him, brother, more's the pity.'
'Why do you say so?'
'Life is sweet, brother.'
'Do you think so?'
'Think so! There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon,
and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise the wind on the
heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?'
'I would wish to die--'
'You talk like a gorgio--which is the same as talking like a fool--were
you a Rommany Chal you would talk wiser. Wish to die, indeed! A Rommany
Chal would wish to live for ever!'
'In sickness, Jasper?'
'There's the sun and stars, brother.'
'In blindness, Jasper?'
'There's the wind on the heath, brother; if I could only feel that, I
would gladly live for ever. Dosta, we'll now go to the tents and put on
the gloves; and I'll try to make you feel what a sweet thing it is to be
alive, brother!'
* * * * *
Beating of women by the lords of the creation has become very prevalent
in England since pugilism has been discountenanced. Now the writer
strongly advises any woman who is struck by a ruffian to strike him
again; or if she cannot clench her fists, and he advises all women in
these singular times to learn to clench their fists, to go at him with
tooth and nail, and not to be afraid of the result, for any fellow who is
dastard enough to strike a woman, would allow himself to be beaten by a
woman, were she to make at him in self-defence, even if, instead of
possessing the stately height and athletic proportions of the aforesaid
Isopel, she were as diminutive in stature, and had a hand as delicate,
and foot as small, as a certain royal lady, who was some time ago
assaulted by a fellow upwards of six feet high, whom the writer has no
doubt she could have beaten had she thought proper to go at him. Such is
the deliberate advice of the author to his countrymen and women--advice
in which he believes there is nothing unscriptural or repugnant to common
sense.
* * * * *
Of my wife I will merely say that she is a perfect paragon of wives--can
make puddings and sweets and treacle posset, and is the best woman of
business in Eastern Anglia--of my step-daughter--for such she is, though
I generally call her daughter, and with good reason, seeing that she has
always shown herself a daughter to me--that she has all kinds of good
qualities, and several accomplishments, knowing something of conchology,
more of botany, drawing capitally in the Dutch style, and playing
remarkably well on the guitar--not the trumpery German thing
so-called--but the real Spanish guitar.
* * * * *
In the summer of the year 1854 myself, wife, and daughter determined upon
going into Wales, to pass a few months there. We are country people of a
corner of East Anglia, and, at the time of which I am speaking, had been
residing so long on our own little estate, that we had become tired of
the objects around us, and conceived that we should be all the better for
changing the scene for a short period. We were undetermined for some
time with respect to where we should go. I proposed Wales from the
first, but my wife and daughter, who have always had rather a hankering
after what is fashionable, said they thought it would be more advisable
to go to Harrowgate, or Leamington. On my observing that those were
terrible places for expense, they replied that, though the price of corn
had of late been shamefully low, we had a spare hundred pounds or two in
our pockets, and could afford to pay for a little insight into
fashionable life. I told them that there was nothing I so much hated as
fashionable life, but that, as I was anything but a selfish person, I
would endeavour to stifle my abhorrence of it for a time, and attend them
either to Leamington or Harrowgate. By this speech I obtained my wish,
even as I knew I should, for my wife and daughter instantly observed,
that, after all, they thought we had better go into Wales, which, though
not so fashionable as either Leamington or Harrowgate, was a very nice
picturesque country, where, they had no doubt, they should get on very
well, more especially as I was acquainted with the Welsh language.
* * * * *
'_Fear God_, and take your own part. There's Bible in that, young man;
see how Moses feared God, and how he took his own part against everybody
who meddled with him. And see how David feared God, and took his own
part against all the bloody enemies which surrounded him--so fear God,
young man, and never give in! The world can bully, and is fond, provided
it sees a man in a kind of difficulty, of getting about him, calling him
coarse names, and even going so far as to hustle him: but the world, like
all bullies, carries a white feather in its tail, and no sooner sees the
man taking off his coat, and offering to fight its best, than it scatters
here and there, and is always civil to him afterwards. So when folks are
disposed to ill-treat you, young man, say, "Lord have mercy upon me!" and
then tip them Long Melford, to which, as the saying goes, there is
nothing comparable for shortness all the world over; and these last
words, young man, are the last you will ever have from her who is
nevertheless,
'Your affectionate female servant,
'Isopel Berners.'
* * * * *
Soldiers and sailors promoted to command are said to be in general
tyrants; in nine cases out of ten, when they are tyrants, they have been
obliged to have recourse to extreme severity in order to protect
themselves from the insolence and mutinous spirit of the men,--'He is no
better than ourselves: shoot him, bayonet him, or fling him overboard!'
they say of some obnoxious individual raised above them by his merit.
Soldiers and sailors in general, will bear any amount of tyranny from a
lordly sot, or the son of a man who has 'plenty of brass'--their own
term--but will mutiny against the just orders of a skilful and brave
officer who 'is no better than themselves.' There was the affair of the
Bounty, for example: Bligh was one of the best seamen that ever trod
deck, and one of the bravest of men; proofs of his seamanship he gave by
steering, amidst dreadful weather, a deeply laden boat for nearly four
thousand miles over an almost unknown ocean--of his bravery, at the fight
of Copenhagen, one of the most desperate ever fought, of which after
Nelson he was the hero: he was, moreover, not an unkind man; but the crew
of the Bounty mutinied against him, and set him half naked in an open
boat, with certain of his men who remained faithful to him, and ran away
with the ship. Their principal motive for doing so was an idea, whether
true or groundless the writer cannot say, that Bligh was 'no better than
themselves'; he was certainly neither a lord's illegitimate, nor
possessed of twenty thousand pounds.
* * * * *
There they come, the bruisers, from far London, or from wherever else
they might chance to be at that time, to the great rendezvous in the old
city; some came one way, some another: some of tip-top reputation came
with peers in their chariots, for glory and fame are such fair things
that even peers are proud to have those invested therewith by their
sides; others came in their own gigs, driving their own bits of blood,
and I heard one say: 'I have driven through at a heat the whole one
hundred and eleven miles, and only stopped to bait twice.' Oh, the blood-
horses of old England! but they too have had their day--for everything
beneath the sun there is a season and a time. But the greater number
come just as they can contrive; on the tops of coaches, for example; and
amongst these there are fellows with dark sallow faces and sharp shining
eyes; and it is these that have planted rottenness in the core of
pugilism, for they are Jews, and, true to their kind, have only base
lucre in view.
It was fierce old Cobbett, I think, who first said that the Jews first
introduced bad faith amongst pugilists. He did not always speak the
truth, but at any rate he spoke it when he made that observation. Strange
people the Jews--endowed with every gift but one, and that the highest,
genius divine,--genius which can alone make of men demigods, and elevate
them above earth and what is earthy and what is grovelling; without which
a clever nation--and who more clever than the Jews?--may have Rambams in
plenty, but never a Fielding nor a Shakespeare; a Rothschild and a
Mendoza, yes--but never a Kean nor a Belcher.
So the bruisers of England are come to be present at the grand fight
speedily coming off; there they are met in the precincts of the old town,
near the Field of the Chapel, planted with tender saplings at the
restoration of sporting Charles, which are now become venerable elms, as
high as many a steeple; there they are met at a fitting rendezvous, where
a retired coachman, with one leg, keeps an hotel and a bowling-green. I
think I now see them upon the bowling-green, the men of renown, amidst
hundreds of people with no renown at all, who gaze upon them with timid
wonder. Fame, after all, is a glorious thing, though it lasts only for a
day. There's Cribb, the champion of England, and perhaps the best man in
England; there he is, with his huge, massive figure, and face wonderfully
like that of a lion. There is Belcher, the younger, not the mighty one,
who is gone to his place, but the Teucer Belcher, the most scientific
pugilist that ever entered a ring, only wanting strength to be, I won't
say what. He appears to walk before me now, as he did that evening, with
his white hat, white greatcoat, thin, genteel figure, springy step, and
keen, determined eye. Crosses him--what a contrast!--grim, savage
Shelton, who has a civil word for nobody, and a hard blow for
anybody--hard! one blow, given with the proper play of his athletic arm,
will unsense a giant. Yonder individual, who strolls about with his
hands behind him, supporting his brown coat lappets, undersized, and who
looks anything but what he is, is the king of the light weights, so
called,--Randall! the terrible Randall, who has Irish blood in his veins;
not the better for that, nor the worse; and not far from him is his last
antagonist, Ned Turner, who, though beaten by him, still thinks himself
as good a man, in which he is, perhaps, right, for it was a near thing;
and 'a better shentleman,' in which he is quite right, for he is a
Welshman. But how shall I name them all? they were there by dozens, and
all tremendous in their way. There was Bulldog Hudson and fearless
Scroggins, who beat the conqueror of Sam the Jew. There was Black
Richmond--no, he was not there, but I knew him well; he was the most
dangerous of blacks, even with a broken thigh. There was Purcell, who
could never conquer till all seemed over with him. There was--what!
shall I name thee last? ay, why not? I believe that thou art the last of
all that strong family still above the sod, where mayst thou long
continue--true piece of English stuff, Tom of Bedford--sharp as winter,
kind as spring.
Hail to thee, Tom of Bedford, or by whatever name it may please thee to
be called, Spring or Winter. Hail to thee, six-foot Englishman of the
brown eye, worthy to have carried a six-foot bow at Flodden, where
England's yeomen triumphed over Scotland's king, his clans and chivalry.
Hail to thee, last of England's bruisers, after all the many victories
which them hast achieved--true English victories, unbought by yellow
gold; need I recount them? nay, nay! they are already well known to
fame--sufficient to say that Bristol's Bull and Ireland's Champion were
vanquished by thee, and one mightier still, gold itself, thou didst
overcome; for gold itself strove in vain to deaden the power of thy arm;
and thus thou didst proceed till men left off challenging thee, the
unvanquishable, the incorruptible.
* * * * *
The writer now wishes to say something on the subject of canting
nonsense, of which there is a great deal in England. There are various
cants in England, amongst which is the religious cant. He is not going
to discuss the subject of religious cant: lest, however, he should be
misunderstood, he begs leave to repeat that he is a sincere member of the
old-fashioned Church of England, in which he believes there is more
religion, and consequently less cant, than in any other Church in the
world; nor is he going to discuss many other cants; he shall content
himself with saying something about two--the temperance cant and the
unmanly cant. Temperance canters say that, 'it is unlawful to drink a
glass of ale.' Unmanly canters say that 'it is unlawful to use one's
fists.' The writer begs leave to tell both these species of canters that
they do not speak the words of truth.
* * * * *
'No,' said I, 'I do not mean to go to church.' 'May I ask thee
wherefore?' said Peter. 'Because,' said I, 'I prefer remaining beneath
the shade of these trees, listening to the sound of the leaves, and the
tinkling of the waters.'
* * * * *
Oh, genial and gladdening is the power of good ale, the true and proper
drink of Englishmen. He is not deserving of the name of Englishman who
speaketh against ale, that is good ale, like that which has just made
merry the hearts of this poor family; and yet there are beings, calling
themselves Englishmen, who say that it is a sin to drink a cup of ale,
and who, on coming to this passage will be tempted to fling down the book
and exclaim: 'The man is evidently a bad man, for behold, by his own
confession, he is not only fond of ale himself, but is in the habit of
tempting other people with it.' Alas! alas! what a number of silly
individuals there are in this world; I wonder what they would have had me
do in this instance--given the afflicted family a cup of cold water? go
to! They could have found water in the road, for there was a pellucid
spring only a few yards distant from the house, as they were well
aware--but they wanted not water; what should I have given them? meat and
bread? go to! They were not hungry; there was stifled sobbing in their
bosoms, and the first mouthful of strong meat would have choked them.
What should I have given them? Money! what right had I to insult them by
offering them money? Advice! words, words, words; friends, there is a
time for everything; there is a time for a cup of cold water; there is a
time for strong meat and bread; there is a time for advice, and there is
a time for ale; and I have generally found that the time for advice is
after a cup of ale--I do not say many cups; the tongue then speaketh more
smoothly, and the ear listeneth more benignantly; but why do I attempt to
reason with you? do I not know you for conceited creatures, with one
idea--and that a foolish one--a crotchet, for the sake of which ye would
sacrifice anything, religion if required--country? There, fling down my
book, I do not wish ye to walk any farther in my company, unless you cast
your nonsense away, which ye will never do, for it is the breath of your
nostrils; fling down my book, it was not written to support a crotchet,
for know one thing, my good people, I have invariably been an enemy to
humbug.
* * * * *
On the whole, I journeyed along very pleasantly, certainly quite as
pleasantly as I do at present, now that I am become a gentleman and weigh
sixteen stone, though some people would say that my present manner of
travelling is much the most preferable, riding as I now do, instead of
leading my horse; receiving the homage of ostlers instead of their
familiar nods; sitting down to dinner in the parlour of the best inn I
can find, instead of passing the brightest part of the day in the kitchen
of a village ale-house; carrying on my argument after dinner on the
subject of the corn-laws, with the best commercial gentlemen on the road,
instead of being glad, whilst sipping a pint of beer, to get into
conversation with blind trampers, or maimed Abraham sailors, regaling
themselves on half-pints at the said village hostelries. Many people
will doubtless say that things have altered wonderfully with me for the
better, and they would say right, provided I possessed now what I then
carried about with me in my journeys--the spirit of youth. Youth is the
only season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five years of one's life
are worth all the rest of the longest life of man, even though those five-
and-twenty be spent in penury and contempt, and the rest in the
possession of wealth, honours, respectability, ay, and many of them in
strength and health, such as will enable one to ride forty miles before
dinner, and over one's pint of port--for the best gentleman in the land
should not drink a bottle--carry on one's argument, with gravity and
decorum, with any commercial gentleman who, responsive to one's
challenge, takes the part of humanity and common sense against
'protection' and the lord of the land.
* * * * *
On the following day at four o'clock I dined with the landlord, in
company with a commercial traveller. The dinner was good, though plain,
consisting of boiled mackerel--rather a rarity in those parts at that
time--with fennel sauce, a prime baron of roast beef after the mackerel,
then a tart and noble Cheshire cheese; we had prime sherry at dinner, and
whilst eating the cheese prime porter, that of Barclay, the only good
porter in the world. After the cloth was removed we had a bottle of very
good port; and whilst partaking of the port I had an argument with the
commercial traveller on the subject of the corn-laws.
* * * * *
The binding was of dingy calf-skin. I opened it, and as I did so another
strange thrill of pleasure shot through my frame. The first object on
which my eyes rested was a picture; it was exceedingly well executed, at
least the scene which it represented made a vivid impression upon me,
which would hardly have been the case had the artist not been faithful to
nature. A wild scene it was--a heavy sea and rocky shore, with mountains
in the background, above which the moon was peering. Not far from the
shore, upon the water, was a boat with two figures in it, one of which
stood at the bow, pointing with what I knew to be a gun at a dreadful
shape in the water: fire was flashing from the muzzle of the gun, and the
monster appeared to be transfixed. I almost thought I heard its cry. I
remained motionless, gazing upon the picture, scarcely daring to draw my
breath, lest the new and wondrous world should vanish of which I had now
obtained a glimpse. 'Who are those people, and what could have brought
them into that strange situation?' I asked of myself; and now the seed of
curiosity, which had so long lain dormant, began to expand, and I vowed
to myself to become speedily acquainted with the whole history of the
people in the boat. After looking on the picture till every mark and
line in it were familiar to me, I turned over various leaves till I came
to another engraving; a new source of wonder--a low sandy beach on which
the furious sea was breaking in mountain-like billows; cloud and rack
deformed the firmament, which wore a dull and leaden-like hue; gulls and
other aquatic fowls were toppling upon the blast, or skimming over the
tops of the maddening waves--'Mercy upon him! he must be drowned!' I
exclaimed, as my eyes fell upon a poor wretch who appeared to be striving
to reach the shore; he was upon his legs but was evidently half-smothered
with the brine; high above his head curled a horrible billow, as if to
engulf him for ever. 'He must be drowned! he must be drowned!' I almost
shrieked, and dropped the book. I soon snatched it up again, and now my
eye lighted on a third picture: again a shore, but what a sweet and
lovely one, and how I wished to be treading it; there were beautiful
shells lying on the smooth white sand, some were empty like those I had
occasionally seen on marble mantelpieces, but out of others peered the
heads and bodies of wondrous crayfish; a wood of thick green trees
skirted the beach and partly shaded it from the rays of the sun, which
shone hot above, while blue waves slightly crested with foam were gently
curling against it; there was a human figure upon the beach, wild and
uncouth, clad in the skins of animals, with a huge cap on his head, a
hatchet at his girdle, and in his hand a gun; his feet and legs were
bare; he stood in an attitude of horror and surprise; his body was bent
far back, and his eyes, which seemed starting out of his head, were fixed
upon a mark on the sand--a large distinct mark--a human footprint!
Reader, is it necessary to name the book which now stood open in my hand,
and whose very prints, feeble expounders of its wondrous lines, had
produced within me emotions strange and novel? Scarcely, for it was a
book which has exerted over the minds of Englishmen an influence
certainly greater than any other of modern times, which has been in most
people's hands, and with the contents of which even those who cannot read
are to a certain extent acquainted; a book from which the most luxuriant
and fertile of our modern prose writers have drunk inspiration; a book,
moreover, to which, from the hardy deeds which it narrates, and the
spirit of strange and romantic enterprise which it tends to awaken,
England owes many of her astonishing discoveries both by sea and land,
and no inconsiderable part of her naval glory.
Hail to thee, spirit of De Foe! What does not my own poor self owe to
thee? England has better bards than either Greece or Rome, yet I could
spare them easier far than De Foe, 'unabashed De Foe,' as the hunchbacked
rhymer styled him.
* * * * *
I commenced the Bible in Spain. At first I proceeded slowly--sickness
was in the land, and the face of nature was overcast--heavy rainclouds
swam in the heavens,--the blast howled amid the pines which nearly
surround my lonely dwelling, and the waters of the lake which lies before
it, so quiet in general and tranquil, were fearfully agitated. 'Bring
lights hither, O Hayim Ben Attar, son of the miracle!' And the Jew of
Fez brought in the lights, for though it was midday I could scarcely see
in the little room where I was writing. . . .
A dreary summer and autumn passed by, and were succeeded by as gloomy a
winter. I still proceeded with the Bible in Spain. The winter passed,
and spring came with cold dry winds and occasional sunshine, whereupon I
arose, shouted, and mounting my horse, even Sidi Habismilk, I scoured all
the surrounding district, and thought but little of the Bible in Spain.
So I rode about the country, over the heaths, and through the green lanes
of my native land, occasionally visiting friends at a distance, and
sometimes, for variety's sake, I stayed at home and amused myself by
catching huge pike, which lie perdue in certain deep ponds skirted with
lofty reeds, upon my land, and to which there is a communication from the
lagoon by a deep and narrow watercourse. I had almost forgotten the
Bible in Spain.
Then came the summer with much heat and sunshine, and then I would lie
for hours in the sun and recall the sunny days I had spent in Andalusia,
and my thoughts were continually reverting to Spain, and at last I
remembered that the Bible in Spain was still unfinished; whereupon I
arose and said: 'This loitering profiteth nothing'--and I hastened to my
summer-house by the side of the lake, and there I thought and wrote, and
every day I repaired to the same place, and thought and wrote until I had
finished the Bible in Spain.
* * * * *
And, as I wandered along the green, I drew near to a place where several
men, with a cask beside them, sat carousing in the neighbourhood of a
small tent. 'Here he comes,' said one of them, as I advanced, and
standing up he raised his voice and sang:--
'Here the Gypsy gemman see,
With his Roman jib and his rome and dree--
Rome and dree, rum and dry
Rally round the Rommany Rye.'
It was Mr. Petulengro, who was here diverting himself with several of his
comrades; they all received me with considerable frankness. 'Sit down,
brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'and take a cup of good ale.'
I sat down. 'Your health, gentlemen,' said I, as I took the cup which
Mr. Petulengro handed to me.
'Aukko tu pios adrey Rommanis. Here is your health in Rommany, brother,'
said Mr. Petulengro; who, having refilled the cup, now emptied it at a
draught.
'Your health in Rommany, brother,' said Tawno Chikno, to whom the cup
came next.
'The Rommany Rye,' said a third.
'The Gypsy gentlemen,' exclaimed a fourth, drinking.