GYPSY FROM THE FOREST
A new biography of the international evangelist Gipsy Smith (1860-1947)
By David Lazell
Gwasg Bryntirion Press
256 pages. £7.99
50 years ago on August 4, as the Queen Mary, still painted in her wartime grey as a troopship, entered the Hudson River to dock in New York, an elderly passenger slipped his moorings to enter heaven.
His given name was Rodney Smith but he was better known to millions on both sides of the Atlantic as Gipsy Smith or simply as 'the Gipsy'.
Born in a gypsy tent in Epping Forest on March 31 1860, and without a day's formal education in his life, Gipsy Smith became a world-renowned evangelist who preached to crowded meetings both in this country and overseas - in Australia, Canada, New Zealand and South Africa, but most often in the United States where he was a great favourite.
Cherries, come down!
Gipsy's father, Cornelius, and his two uncles, Bartholomew and Woodlock, were converted within a short time of each other in late 1868 or early 1869. They soon became know as zealous evangelists and were dubbed 'the three gypsy preachers'. Cornelius was a highly original character with a remarkable gift for communicating the gospel to ordinary people.
Gipsy recalls that before his conversion, when he was under deep conviction of sin, his father heard him pray: 'Oh, God make me a good boy. I want to be a good boy - make me feel I am saved.' Cornelius tried to make his son understand that salvation is a gift - it is not earned by being good. One afternoon, when the three brothers were let loose in a garden containing many heavily laden cherry trees, Gipsy recalls: 'I was amazed to observe my father gazing steadfastly at the cherries and saying in a loud, urgent voice, as he kept the inside pocket of his coat wide open: 'Cherries, come down and fill my pocket. Come down, I say, I want you!'. I watched his antics for a moment or two, not knowing what to make of this aberration. At length, I said: 'Daddy, it's no use telling the cherries to come down and fill your pocket. You must pluck them off the tree.'
'My son,' said my father, 'that is what I want you to understand. You are making the mistake that I was making just now. God has offered you a great gift. You know what it is and you know that you want it. But you will not reach forth your hand to take it.'
Gipsy's mother, Polly, died of smallpox when he was only five years old. Her death deeply affected young Rodney (Gipsy). 30 years later, he wrote: 'When I try to call back the appearance of my dear mother, I am baffled ... her face has faded clean from my memory.'
Desire to preach
At the time of his conversion on 17 November 1876, when he was pointed to Christ by George Bell, a Primitive Methodist minister, Rodney Smith was hardly literate. He struggled to learn to read properly using a copy book. 'I was always asking questions,' he wrote, 'if I heard a new word, I used to flee to my dictionary. I always kept it beside me when I read, or tried to read.'
Soon the young convert was burning with a desire to preach. At a meeting held by William (General) Booth on Whit Monday 1877, Gipsy (as he was soon to become known) was invited to speak from the platform without, it would seem, being forewarned. Soon afterwards he was enrolled in the Booths' mission which was to become known as the Salvation Army. His most notable work in the service of the Army was at Hanley in the Potteries. Gipsy had asked the General to send him to 'the nearest place to the bottomless pit' so he was sent to Hanley with his young wife, Annie, and his year-old son, Albany. The mission grew rapidly with many conversions. On Sundays, Rodney preached to crowds of 7,000 or 8,000 people. However, General Booth wanted to move him on to another pioneering situation but both Gipsy and the corps were against a move elsewhere. Sadly, Gipsy was dismissed from the Army for accepting an inscribed gold watch presented to him by the congregation. Though his action was strictly speaking against Army rules, Gipsy sincerely believed that the Army's leadership would be pleased that the work at Hanley was being given such public recognition.
Launching a crusade
In the overruling providence of God, Gipsy's dismissal from the Salvation Army launched him upon a ministry of 'crusade' evangelism which was to prove wonderfully fruitful over a period of 60 years. Drawing on his experience at Hanley, he encouraged churches to co-operate in missions across denominational lines. He became a missioner with the Free Church Federal Council and later worked with the Methodist Home Mission.
Gipsy Smith had a fine tenor voice, which he used to good effect in the solos he sang in his meetings. He popularised the 'Glory Song' ('When all my labours and trials are o'er') and 'Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me'. Gipsy believed in the power of song to touch hearts which might otherwise have stayed closed to his preaching. And he saw a connection between singing and joy. 'Singing is the sign of joy. The people who can sing and do are the happy and triumphant. The early Christians sang their way to victory. When the church has a song in her heart, she will sing with grace to the Lord. The Word will follow.'
Overseas
Gipsy was a great traveller, especially to the United States, where he was much in demand. His ebullient personality, his forthright approach to preaching and his solo singing seem to have fitted the American scene even better than the British. A small boy who attended his Indianapolis mission perhaps best summed up his appeal: 'Shucks, that man is easy to listen to.'
One of Gipsy's most remarkable ventures was the so-called 'Mission of Peace' in South Africa in 1904. The Boer War had left a deep division between the English and Afrikaner communities, and this was also reflected in their churches. Perhaps because he was seen as not belonging to the English establishment but as somewhat of an outsider, he was able to minister to both communities. And this he did with great effectiveness in missions in all the key cities and towns.
Gipsy insisted that all his audiences were to be multi-racial. He wrote of his Capetown mission: 'It was a sight to witness, white and black, rich and poor, British and Dutch, Episcopal and Nonconformist, sitting side by side, and here and there one could see a Malay, with his fez in his hand, listening like the rest. There was no difference - all had sinned and Christ is the Saviour of all.'
Passion for souls
A Cape newspaper thought that one of the evangelist's secrets was his tender approach, an ability to touch chords that stirred old memories. Not surprisingly, some accused him of being too sentimental and emotional. It would be fairer to say that he was a passionate preacher who yearned for people to come to Christ. In his Paris mission of 1908, when his interpreter stopped because he could not handle Gipsy's flow of language, the evangelist, in agony of spirit, asked in his few words of French: 'Aimez-vous Jesus?'. Back came the response from the audience: 'We do, we do!'.
Evangelistic methods are today more varied than they were in Gipsy's time. The appeal, the counselling room and the use of decision cards are much rarer than they were 50 years ago. But, as David Lazell shows in his new biography, Gipsy was a man with a passion for souls (a phrase seldom heard today) who preached with the unction which all who preach the gospel should long to know.
David Kingdon