ry
I am about to relate will testify. Not far from this very gipsy
settlement, in a wild romantic glen, is a steep overhanging rock, which
is known throughout the country as the "Gipsy's Rock," and came to be so
called from the following tragical occurrence. It seems that many years
ago--about the middle of the last century, I believe--there was a famine
in the land, and the poor gipsies, poorer than all the rest, were
reduced to great straits. Some of them came to the neighbouring village
and begged hard for food. The selfish people turned them away, or at
least tried to do so; but one poor fellow would not cease his
importunities, and said that his children were literally starving.
"Then," said one of the villagers in a mocking tone, "I will give your
family a side of bacon if you will jump that rock."

"You hear his promise?" cried the gipsy, appealing to the idle crowd. He
said not another word, but rushing from their midst, clambered up the
rock, and in another instant took the fatal leap!

I see no reason to discredit the story, generally believed as it is in
the district; and, happily for the honour of human nature, it has many a
parallel, in another way perhaps, but equal in self-sacrifice and
devotion.

The gipsies in Hungary are supposed to number at least 150,000. The
Czigany, as they are called, made their appearance early in the
fifteenth century, having fled, it is believed, from the cruelty of the
Mongol rulers. They were allowed by King Sigismund to settle in Hungary,
and were called in law the "new peasants." Before the reforms of 1848
they were in a state of absolute serfdom, and could not legally take
service away from the place where they were born. The case of the gipsy
was the only instance in Hungary, even in the Hungary of the old
_regime_, of absolute serfdom; for oppressive as were the obligations of
the land-holding peasant to his lord, yet the relation between them was
never that of master and slave. As a matter of fact, if the Hungarian
peasant gave up his _session_--that is to say, the land he occupied in
hereditary use--he was free to go wheresoever he pleased, and was not
forced to serve any master. In practice the serf would not readily
relinquish the means of subsistence for himself and family, and
generally preferred the burden, odious though it was, of the _robot_, or
forced labour. This personal liberty, which the Hungarian peasant in the
worst of times has preserved, is deep-root