we may as reasonably conceive that learning, poetry, music and religion,
would soothe and soften the angry passions of the soul, as that they
would rouse to the horrid immolation of human sacrifices.
Being unavoidably prevented at this time from visiting the celebrated
Paris mountain, the property of the Marquis of Anglesea and the Rev. Mr.
Hughes, we again returned to the hotel at Caernarvon; purposing to stay
the following day (Sunday), for the purpose of making a strict enquiry
into the religious sect, settled here, and in many parts of Wales, called
Jumpers. {181}
The account we had received from our landlord, we imagined was
exaggerated; and this more strongly induced us to visit the chapel, that
we might be enabled, in future, to contradict this ridiculous report.
At six in the evening the congregation assembled; and, on our entrance
into the chapel, we observed on the north side, from a sort of stage or
pulpit, erected on the occasion, a man, in appearance a common
day-labourer, holding forth to an ignorant and deluded multitude. Our
entrance at first seemed to excite a general dissatisfaction; and our
near neighbours, as if conscious of their eccentricities, muttered bitter
complaints against the admittance of strangers. The chapel, which was
not divided into pews, and even destitute of seats, contained near a
hundred people: half way round was erected a gallery. The preacher
continued raving, and, indeed, foaming at the mouth, in a manner too
shocking to relate:—he allowed himself no time to breathe, but, seemingly
intoxicated, uttered the most dismal howls and groans imaginable, which
were answered by the congregation, so loud as occasionally to drown even
the voice of the preacher. At last, being nearly exhausted by continual
vociferation, and fainting from exertion, he sunk down in the pulpit.
The meeting, however, did not disperse: a psalm was immediately sung by a
man, who, we imagined, officiated as clerk, accompanied by the whole
congregation. The psalm had not continued long, before we observed part
of the assembly, to our great surprise, jumping in small parties of
three, four, and sometimes five in a set, lifting up their hands, beating
their breasts, and making the most horrid gesticulations. Each
individual separately jumped, regularly succeeding one another, while the
rest generally assisted the jumper by the help of their hands. The women
always appeared more vehement than the men, and infinitely surpassed them
in numbers; seeming to endeavour to excel each other in jumping,
screaming, and howling. We observed, indeed, that many of them lost
their shoes, hats, and bonnets, with the utmost indifference, and never
condescended to search after them; in this condition, it is not unusual
to meet them jumping to their homes. Their meetings are twice a week,
Wednesdays and Sundays. Having accidentally met with a gentleman, at the
hotel, a native of Siberia, we invited him to our party; and, induced by
curiosity, he readily accompanied us to the chapel. On the commencement
of the jumping, he entreated us to quit the congregation, exclaiming
“Good God! I for a moment forgot I was in a Christian country. The
dance of the Siberians, in the worship of the Lama, with their shouts and
gesticulations, is not more horrid!” This observation so forcibly struck
me, that I could not avoid inserting it in my note-book.
With disgust we left the chapel, and were given to understand, by our
landlord, they celebrate a particular day every year, when instances have
been known of women dying by too great an exertion; and fainting is
frequently the consequence of their excessive jumping.
This sect is by no means confined to the town of Caernarvon; but in many
villages, and several market towns, both in North and South Wales, they
have established regular chapels. “They have (says a correspondent to
the Gentleman’s Magazine) {183} periodical meetings in many of the larger
towns, to which they come from thirty to forty miles round. At one held
at Denbigh, about last April, there were, I believe, upwards of four
thousand people, from different parts. At another, held at Bala, soon
afterwards, nearly double that number were supposed to be present.” The
last number appears rather to be exaggerated, though the letter being
dated from Denbigh, should be considered as authoritative.
Another correspondent to the Gentleman’s Magazine gives the following
information respecting the sect: “That they are not a distinct sect, but
Methodists, of the same persuasion as the late Mr. Whitfield; for though
there are several congregations of the Wesleyan Methodists in this
country, there is no such custom amongst them. But jumping during
religious worship is no new thing amongst the other party, having (by
what I can learn) been practised by them for many years past. I have
seen some of their pamphlets in the Welsh language, in which this custom
is justified by the example of David, who danced before the ark; and of
the lame man, restored by our blessed Saviour, at the gate of the temple,
who leaped for joy.” How far this gentleman’s account may be accurate, I
leave for others to decide: it is certainly to be lamented, in a country
where the Christian religion is preached in a style of the greatest
purity and simplicity, that these poor ignorant deluded wretches should
be led to a form of worship so dissonant to the established church of
England, and indeed by a poor ignorant fellow, devoid of education and
common sense.
The same road we had so much admired the preceding Saturday soon brought
us to