John Bunyan and the Gipsies — Text and Context
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John Bunyan and the Gipsies — Text and Context can be approached with a clearer sense of reading commitment from its source measurements: 18,867 words, 1 hr 23 min estimated reading time, and 2 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 25.4 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Romanies,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
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- Description quality20 pts
- Title & short description10 pts
- Source metadata20 pts
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- Chapters / structure15 pts
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Read the Text
ort belong together” (p. 140).
In my Disquisition on the Gipsies I said:—
“In Scotland the prejudice towards the name of Gipsy might be safely allowed to drop, were it only for this reason, that the race has got so much mixed up with the native blood, and even with good families of the country, as to be, in plain language, a jumble, a pretty kettle of fish, indeed” (p. 427).
Mr. Leland continues:—
“No novelist, no writer whatever, has as yet _clearly_ explained the curious fact that our entire nomadic population, excepting tramps, is not, as we thought in our childhood, composed of English people like ourselves. It is leavened with direct Indian blood; it has, more or less modified, a peculiar _morale_.” “It is a muddle, perhaps, and a puzzle; I doubt if anybody quite understands it” (p. 140).
Had Mr. Leland said that, with the exception of myself, “no writer whatever” had even alluded to the phenomenon described, I believe he would have stated what was true. I endeavoured to explain it in a Disquisition of 171 pages, which he indirectly admitted he “carefully read”; so that if I did not “clearly explain” the “puzzle and muddle” it must have proceeded from a lack of intellect on my part, or on his in not understanding me. Since then I have frequently expatiated on and described it, but I am not aware that Mr. Leland has seen what I wrote on these occasions. In _The Scottish Churches and the Gipsies_ I said that the Gipsy problem “may at first present an aspect of a ‘labyrinth of difficulties’”; but that to solve it “there is little intellect wanted for the occasion, but such as it is it should be allowed to act freely on the subject of inquiry” (p. 23). To judge of Mr. Leland’s works on the Gipsies one would think that he had been indebted to no one for anything; so that it is remarkable he should have complained that _novelists_ should not have “clearly explained” to him what he himself should have told us—particularly as he spoke of his “great experience” among the Gipsies—unless it appears that even to novelists he—as a professional writer taking up a subject that came to his hand—has been indebted for putting him on the track for repeating or illustrating an “oft-told tale.” {18} We can easily imagine how Mr. Leland got “puzzled and muddled” in contemplating his subject when he says so positively that the Gipsies are disappearing as “British birds are chasing American ones out of Philadelphia”; and that the mixed state of Gipsydom seen at Cobham Fair “was old before the Saxon Heptarchy” (p. 140). What he said he could find in “no writer whatever” was elaborately described in the book which I published. That he used for his own purposes, and then apparently turned round and threw out his heels at it.
I have spoken of Mr. Leland’s “confident assertions,” but I have space merely to allude to some of them. Among these are the following:—That there is no mystery about the origin of the Gipsies (p. 331), and that “it is a matter of history that, since the Aryan morning of mankind, the Romany have been chiromancing” (p. 225); that “among those who left India were men of different castes and different colours, ranging from the pure Northern invader to the Negro-like Southern Indian” (p. 24); that the Gipsies in Egypt have lost their tongue (p. 296); that the English Gipsy cares not a farthing “to know anything about his race as it exists in foreign countries, or whence it came” (p. 34); and that there is hardly a travelling company of dancers, musicians, singers, or acrobats, or theatre “in Europe or America in which there is not at least one person with some Romany blood” (p. 332). This at least is common, I dare say very common. On one occasion I looked over the show-bill while in MS. of an English Gipsy company who travelled in America with a small panorama. {19a}
The conclusion which I drew of Mr. Leland after reading his Cyclopædia article was that, apart from the language, he knew little of the _subject of the Gipsies_. The knowledge of the language has given him the entrée into the circle of a certain class of the Gipsies, leading to a “flash-in-the-pan” knowledge of them; but not constituting him a reliable guide on the whole question under consideration; for, in keeping with his “confident assertions” generally, he disposes of it by saying that “the child is perhaps born who will see the last Gipsy.” {19b}
James Simson opens John Bunyan and the Gipsies with a combative preface, declaring that the prevailing belief in the disappearance of the Romani race has gone "uncontradicted" and become "rooted." He positions his work as a corrective, aiming to show that Romanies do not vanish but conceal their identity by conforming to settled society. Simson’s tone is that of a polemicist frustrated by what he sees as willful ignorance among scholars and the public alike.
The book’s central claim—that John Bunyan, author of The Pilgrim’s Progress, was himself a Gypsy—is stated bluntly in the advertisements. Simson promises to prove this "conclusively," though the excerpts offer no direct evidence from Bunyan’s writings. Instead, the argument appears to rest on circumstantial reasoning and the author’s broader theories about Romani assimilation and hidden populations.
A Polemic Against Prevailing Views
Simson’s preface frames the entire work as a rebuttal. He notes that in his earlier Scottish Churches and the Gipsies, he found "the way barred in every direction" when he tried to discuss Romani survival. Here, he singles out Charles Godfrey Leland’s 1882 book The Gipsies as the latest example of a flawed approach. Simson charges that Leland leaves the central question—what becomes of the Gypsies?—"just where he found it," and even confesses it has "puzzled and muddled" him. The language is sharp: Simson accuses literary journals of being unable to handle "a very special subject" unless they find a writer who can do it for them. This is not a dispassionate study but a pointed intervention in an ongoing debate.
Numbers, Hiding, and the Bunyan Thesis
Simson makes bold demographic claims. He asserts that there are at least 250,000 Romanies in the British Isles, possibly double that, and 4,000,000 in Europe and America combined. These figures are presented without citation, reflecting the author’s reliance on personal conviction rather than systematic census data. The mechanism of survival, he argues, is concealment: "as the Gipsy race leaves the tent, and rises to civilization, it hides its nationality from the rest of the world, so great is the prejudice against the name of Gipsy." This idea of hidden identity is the linchpin for his claim about John Bunyan. Simson does not quote Bunyan directly in the excerpts, but he insists that Bunyan’s Gypsy heritage will be "conclusively shown." The reader is left to wonder what evidence follows.
The Rhetoric of a Crusader
Simson’s prose is that of a campaigner, not a neutral scholar. He describes the Romani story as a "wonderful story" that, when properly told, constitutes "a work of interest to many classes of readers." He aims to "raise the name of Gipsy out of the dust." The book is presented as having a moral and religious dimension: it bears on "the conversion of the Jews, the advancement of Christianity generally, and the development of historical and moral science." This sweeping ambition is matched by a combative stance. Simson admits that getting a London journal to publish his article on Leland was "a very difficult and delicate matter," and he proposed that the journal could publish it "without any responsibility on the part of the journal or editor." The tone is that of a man who sees himself as a lone voice against entrenched error.
What the Excerpts Leave Unsaid
The provided excerpts are heavily weighted toward the preface and advertisements, which are essentially paratextual. The body of the work—where Simson presumably lays out his evidence for Bunyan’s Romani ancestry—is not included. This means the reader cannot assess the strength of his central argument. The excerpts do reveal the author’s method: he relies on assertion, on challenging the silence of others, and on a theory of hidden identity that is difficult to falsify. Simson’s writing is repetitive, returning several times to the idea that Romanies "cease to be Gipsies" only by keeping silent about their heritage. The book appears to be as much a manifesto as a historical study, and its value may lie more in documenting a 19th-century polemic than in proving its thesis.
Readers approaching John Bunyan and the Gipsies should be prepared for a work that is part argument, part crusade. Simson’s evidence for Bunyan’s Romani identity is not visible in these excerpts, and the book’s claims about hidden populations rest on the author’s authority rather than verifiable data. The text is best read as a specimen of 19th-century controversial writing, revealing how one advocate tried to reshape public understanding of Romani history. Those interested in the reception of Bunyan or the history of Romani studies will find it a curious, if frustrating, document.
There is something strange and tender about old books that chase a vanished people through language, as Simson does with Bunyan’s possible Romani roots. That longing for a hidden, enduring presence reminds me of another quiet relic I keep, A history of postal agitation from fifty years ago till the present day — Reading Companion, its pages full of earnest, forgotten voices. Both feel like handwriting on a wall no one walks past anymore.
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