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Title: The Zincali: An Account of the Gypsies of Spain
Author: Borrow, George
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.


*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Zincali: An Account of the Gypsies of Spain" ***


Transcribed from the 1901 John Murray edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org

                          [Picture: Book cover]



                               THE ZINCALI


                                * * * * *

                            AN ACCOUNT OF THE
                             GYPSIES OF SPAIN
                             BY GEORGE BORROW

                                AUTHOR OF
                           ‘THE BIBLE IN SPAIN’
                                ‘LAVENGRO’
                                   ETC.

                                * * * * *

                                   ‘_For that which is unclean by nature_,
                              _thou canst entertain no hope_; _no washing_
                                    _will turn the Gypsy white_.’—FERDOUSI

                                * * * * *

                              NEW IMPRESSION

                                * * * * *

                                  LONDON
                      JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
                                   1901

                                * * * * *

         Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty



TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE EARL OF CLARENDON, G.C.B.


                    KEEPER OF HER MAJESTY’S PRIVY SEAL

                             ETC., ETC., ETC.

MY LORD,

_I feel it not only a gratification but an honour to be permitted to
dedicate these volumes_ {0} _to your Lordship_, _the more particularly as
they are connected with Spain_, _a country in which it was so frequently
my fortune to experience such prompt and salutary aid from your Lordship
in the high capacity of representative of our Gracious British
Sovereign_.

_The remembrance of the many obligations under which your Lordship has
placed me_, _by your energetic and effectual interference in time of
need_, _will ever in heartfelt gratitude cause me to remain_, _with
unfeigned sentiments of respect_,

_My Lord_,

                       _Your most devoted Servant_,

                                                            GEORGE BORROW.



PREFACE


IT is with some diffidence that the author ventures to offer the present
work to the public.

The greater part of it has been written under very peculiar
circumstances, such as are not in general deemed at all favourable for
literary composition: at considerable intervals, during a period of
nearly five years passed in Spain—in moments snatched from more important
pursuits—chiefly in ventas and posádas, whilst wandering through the
country in the arduous and unthankful task of distributing the Gospel
among its children.

Owing to the causes above stated, he is aware that his work must not
unfrequently appear somewhat disjointed and unconnected, and the style
rude and unpolished: he has, nevertheless, permitted the tree to remain
where he felled it, having, indeed, subsequently enjoyed too little
leisure to make much effectual alteration.

At the same time he flatters himself that the work is not destitute of
certain qualifications to entitle it to approbation.  The author’s
acquaintance with the Gypsy race in general dates from a very early
period of his life, which considerably facilitated his intercourse with
the Peninsular portion, to the elucidation of whose history and character
the present volumes are more particularly devoted.  Whatever he has
asserted, is less the result of reading than of close observation, he
having long since come to the conclusion that the Gypsies are not a
people to be studied in books, or at least in such books as he believes
have hitherto been written concerning them.

Throughout he has dealt more in facts than in theories, of which he is in
general no friend.  True it is, that no race in the world affords, in
many points, a more extensive field for theory and conjecture than the
Gypsies, who are certainly a very mysterious people come from some
distant land, no mortal knows why, and who made their first appearance in
Europe at a dark period, when events were not so accurately recorded as
at the present time.

But if he has avoided as much as possible touching upon subjects which
must always, to a certain extent, remain shrouded in obscurity; for
example, the original state and condition of the Gypsies, and the causes
which first brought them into Europe; he has stated what they are at the
present day, what he knows them to be from a close scrutiny of their ways
and habits, for which, perhaps, no one ever enjoyed better opportunities;
and he has, moreover, given—not a few words culled expressly for the
purpose of supporting a theory, but one entire dialect of their language,
collected with much trouble and difficulty; and to this he humbly calls
the attention of the learned, who, by comparing it with certain
languages, may decide as to the countries in which the Gypsies have lived
or travelled.

With respect to the Gypsy rhymes in the second volume, he wishes to make
one observation which cannot be too frequently repeated, and which he
entreats the reader to bear in mind: they are _Gypsy compositions_, and
have little merit save so far as they throw light on the manner of
thinking and speaking of the Gypsy people, or rather a portion of them,
and as to what they are capable of effecting in the way of poetry.  It
will, doubtless, be said that the rhymes are _trash_;—even were it so,
they are original, and on that account, in a philosophic point of view,
are more valuable than the most brilliant compositions pretending to
describe Gypsy life, but written by persons who are not of the Gypsy
sect.  Such compositions, however replete with fiery sentiments, and
allusions to freedom and independence, are certain to be tainted with
affectation.  Now in the Gypsy rhymes there is no affectation, and on
that very account they are different in every respect from the poetry of
those interesting personages who figure, under the names of Gypsies,
Gitános, Bohemians, etc., in novels and on the boards of the theatre.

It will, perhaps, be objected to the present work, that it contains
little that is edifying in a moral or Christian point of view: to such an
objection the author would reply, that the Gypsies are not a Christian
people, and that their morality is of a peculiar kind, not calculated to
afford much edification to what is generally termed the respectable
portion of society.  Should it be urged that certain individuals have
found them very different from what they are represented in these
volumes, he would frankly say that he yields no credit to the presumed
fact, and at the same time he would refer to the vocabulary contained in
the second volume, whence it will appear that the words _hoax_ and
_hocus_ have been immediately derived from the language of the Gypsies,
who, there is good reason to believe, first introduced the system into
Europe, to which those words belong.

The author entertains no ill-will towards the Gypsies; why should he,
were he a mere carnal reasoner?  He has known them for upwards of twenty
years, in various countries, and they never injured a hair of his head,
or deprived him of a shred of his raiment; but he is not deceived as to
the motive of their forbearance: they thought him a _Rom_, and on this
supposition they hurt him not, their love of ‘the blood’ being their most
distinguishing characteristic.  He derived considerable assistance from
them in Spain, as in various instances they officiated as colporteurs in
the distribution of the Gospel: but on that account he is not prepared to
say that they entertained any love for the Gospel or that they circulated
it for the honour of Tebléque the Saviour.  Whatever they did for the
Gospel in Spain, was done in the hope that he whom they conceived to be
their brother had some purpose in view which was to contribute to the
profit of the Calés, or Gypsies, and to terminate in the confusion and
plunder of the Busné, or Gentiles.  Convinced of this, he is too little
of an enthusiast to rear, on such a foundation, any fantastic edifice of
hope which would soon tumble to the ground.

The cause of truth can scarcely be forwarded by enthusiasm, which is
almost invariably the child of ignorance and error.  The author is
anxious to direct the attention of the public towards the Gypsies; but he
hopes to be able to do so without any romantic appeals in their behalf,
by concealing the truth, or by warping the truth until it becomes
falsehood.  In the following pages he has depicted the Gypsies as he has
found them, neither aggravating their crimes nor gilding them with
imaginary virtues.  He has not expatiated on ‘their gratitude towards
good people, who treat them kindly and take an interest in their
welfare’; for he believes that of all beings in the world they are the
least susceptible of such a feeling.  Nor has he ever done them injustice
by attributing to them licentious habits, from which they are, perhaps,
more free than any race in the creation.



PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION


I CANNOT permit the second edition of this work to go to press without
premising it with a few words.

When some two years ago I first gave _The Zincali_ to the world, it was,
as I stated at the time, with considerable hesitation and diffidence: the
composition of it and the collecting of Gypsy words had served as a kind
of relaxation to me whilst engaged in the circulation of the Gospel in
Spain.  After the completion of the work, I had not the slightest idea
that it possessed any peculiar merit, or was calculated to make the
slightest impression upon the reading world.  Nevertheless, as every one
who writes feels a kind of affection, greater or less, for the
productions of his pen, I was averse, since the book was written, to
suffer it to perish of damp in a lumber closet, or by friction in my
travelling wallet.  I committed it therefore to the press, with a
friendly ‘Farewell, little book; I have done for you all I can, and much
more than you deserve.’

My expectations at this time were widely different from those of my
namesake George in the _Vicar of Wakefield_ when he published his
paradoxes.  I took it as a matter of course that the world, whether
learned or unlearned, would say to my book what they said to his
paradoxes, as the event showed,—nothing at all.  To my utter
astonishment, however, I had no sooner returned to my humble retreat,
where I hoped to find the repose of which I was very much in need, than I
was followed by the voice not only of England but of the greater part of
Europe, informing me that I had achieved a feat—a work in the nineteenth
century with some pretensions to originality.  The book was speedily
reprinted in America, portions of it were translated into French and
Russian, and a fresh edition demanded.

In the midst of all this there sounded upon my ears a voice which I
recognised as that of the Mæcenas of British literature: ‘Borromeo, don’t
believe all you hear, nor think that you have accomplished anything so
very extraordinary: a great portion of your book is very sorry trash
indeed—Gypsy poetry, dry laws, and compilations from dull Spanish
authors: it has good points, however, which show that you are capable of
something much better: try your hand again—avoid your besetting sins; and
when you have accomplished something which will really do credit to —
Street, it will be time enough to think of another delivery of these
_Gypsies_.’

Mistos amande: ‘I am content,’ I replied; and sitting down I commenced
the _Bible in Spain_.  At first I proceeded slowly—sickness was in the
land, and the face of nature was overcast—heavy rain-clouds 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 at the proper season the _Bible in Spain_ was given to the world; and
the world, both learned and unlearned, was delighted with the _Bible in
Spain_, and the highest authority {1} said, ‘This is a much better book
than the _Gypsies_’; and the next great authority {2} said, ‘something
betwixt Le Sage and Bunyan.’  ‘A far more entertaining work than _Don
Quixote_,’ exclaimed a literary lady.  ‘Another _Gil Blas_,’ said the
cleverest writer in Europe. {3}  ‘Yes,’ exclaimed the cool sensible
_Spectator_, {4} ‘a _Gil Blas_ in water-colours.’

And when I heard the last sentence, I laughed, and shouted, ‘_Kosko
pennese pal_!’ {5}  It pleased me better than all the rest.  Is there not
a text in a certain old book which says: Woe unto you when all men shall
speak well of you!  Those are awful words, brothers; woe is me!

‘Revenons à nos Bohémiens!’  Now the _Bible in Spain_ is off my hands, I
return to ‘these _Gypsies_’; and here you have, most kind, lenient, and
courteous public, a fresh delivery of them.  In the present edition, I
have attended as much as possible to the suggestions of certain
individuals, for whose opinion I cannot but entertain the highest
respect.  I have omitted various passages from Spanish authors, which the
world has objected to as being quite out of place, and serving for no
other purpose than to swell out the work.  In lieu thereof, I have
introduced some original matter relative to the Gypsies, which is,
perhaps, more calculated to fling light over their peculiar habits than
anything which has yet appeared.  To remodel the work, however, I have
neither time nor inclination, and must therefore again commend it, with
all the imperfections which still cling to it, to the generosity of the
public.

A few words in conclusion.  Since the publication of the first edition, I
have received more than one letter, in which the writers complain that I,
who seem to know so much of what has been written concerning the Gypsies,
{6} should have taken no notice of a theory entertained by many, namely,
that they are of Jewish origin, and that they are neither more nor less
than the descendants of the two lost tribes of Israel.  Now I am not
going to enter into a discussion upon this point, for I know by
experience, that the public cares nothing for discussions, however
learned and edifying, but will take the present opportunity to relate a
little adventure of mine, which bears not a little upon this matter.

So it came to pass, that one day I was scampering over a heath, at some
distance from my present home: I was mounted upon the good horse Sidi
Habismilk, and the Jew of Fez, swifter than the wind, ran by the side of
the good horse Habismilk, when what should I see at a corner of the heath
but the encampment of certain friends of mine; and the chief of that
camp, even Mr. Petulengro, stood before the encampment, and his adopted
daughter, Miss Pinfold, stood beside him.

_Myself_.—‘Kosko divvus {7}, Mr. Petulengro!  I am glad to see you: how
are you getting on?’

_Mr. Petulengro_.—‘How am I getting on? as well as I can.  What will you
have for that nokengro {8}?’

Thereupon I dismounted, and delivering the reins of the good horse to
Miss Pinfold, I took the Jew of Fez, even Hayim Ben Attar, by the hand,
and went up to Mr. Petulengro, exclaiming, ‘Sure ye are two brothers.’
Anon the Gypsy passed his hand over the Jew’s face, and stared him in the
eyes: then turning to me he said, ‘We are not dui palor {9}; this man is
no Roman; I believe him to be a Jew; he has the face of one; besides, if
he were a Rom, even from Jericho, he could rokra a few words in Rommany.’

Now the Gypsy had been in the habit of seeing German and English Jews,
who must have been separated from their African brethren for a term of at
least 1700 years; yet he recognised the Jew of Fez for what he was—a Jew,
and without hesitation declared that he was ‘no Roman.’  The Jews,
therefore, and the Gypsies have each their peculiar and distinctive
countenance, which, to say nothing of the difference of language,
precludes the possibility of their having ever been the same people.

_March_ 1, 1843.



NOTICE TO THE FOURTH EDITION


THIS edition has been carefully revised by the author, and some few
insertions have been made.  In order, however, to give to the work a more
popular character, the elaborate vocabulary of the Gypsy tongue, and
other parts relating to the Gypsy language and literature, have been
omitted.  Those who take an interest in these subjects are referred to
the larger edition in two vols. {10}



CONTENTS

                             INTRODUCTION
On the Gypsies in general—Name and Language—The Russian              1
Gypsies—Gypsies at Moscow—Hungarian Gypsies—Wallachia and
Moldavia—English Gypsies, or Rommany—Gypsy
Fortune-tellers—Gypsy Jockeys—Gypsy Will—Thurtell—Gypsy
Clans—Names of Families—Gypsy Law—Pazorrhus—The
Patteran—Baptismal Papers—Gypsies of the East—Artifice of
Timour—Bishop of Forli
                             THE ZINCALI
                                PART I
                              CHAPTER I
Of the Spanish Gypsies in general—Names—Arrival—Egyptian            41
Penitents—Peculiarities of Spain—Provinces which the Gypsies
principally frequented
                              CHAPTER II
Manner of Life—Predatory Habits—The Traveller—Jews and              48
Gypsies—The Forge—The Sparks—Gypsy Counts—Martin del
Rio—Facility in speaking Languages—Proverbs
                             CHAPTER III
Excesses of the Gitános—The Bookseller of Logroño                   61
                              CHAPTER IV
Gypsy Colonies in various Towns of Spain                            71
                              CHAPTER V
Cannibalism—The Forest—Anecdotes—Food of the                        76
Gypsies—Child-stealing—Connection of the Gitános with the
Moors of Barbary
                              CHAPTER VI
Barbary and its Tribes—Beni Aros—Sidi Hamed au Muza—The             85
Children of the Dar-Bushi-Fal, a Sect of Thieves and
Sorcerers, probably of Gypsy Origin
                             CHAPTER VII
Chiromancy—Torreblanca—Gitánas—The Gitána of Seville—La             98
Buena Ventura—The Dance—The Song—Tricks of the Gitánas—The
Widow—Occult Powers
                             CHAPTER VIII
The Evil Eye—Credulity of Eastern Nations on this                  115
subject—Remedies for the Evil Eye—The Talmud—Superstitions
of the North
                              CHAPTER IX
Exodus of the Jews: that of the Gypsies—Indifference of the        122
Gitános with respect to Religion—Ezekiel—Tale of Egyptian
Descent—Quiñones—Melchior of Guelama—Religious Tolerance—The
Inquisitor of Cordova—Gitános and Moriscos
                              CHAPTER X
The Expulsion of the Gitános; a Discourse addressed by Dr.         137
Sancho de Moncada to Philip the Third
                              CHAPTER XI
Various Laws issued against the Spanish Gypsies, from the          151
time of Ferdinand and Isabella to the latter part of the
Eighteenth Century, embracing a period of nearly Three
Hundred Years
                             CHAPTER XII
Carlos Tercero—His Law respecting the Gitános                      166
                               PART II
                              CHAPTER I
Badajoz—The Gypsies—The Withered Arm—Gypsy Law—Trimming and        177
Shearing—Metempsychosis—Paco and Antonio—Antonio and the
Magyar—The Chai—Pharaoh—The Steeds of the Egyptians
                              CHAPTER II
Madrid—Gypsy Women—Granada—Gypsy Smiths—Pepe                       194
Conde—Seville—Triana—Cordova—Horses—The
Esquilador—Characteristic Epistle—Catalonia, etc.
                             CHAPTER III
General Remarks on the Present State of the                        207
Gitános—Inefficiency of the Old Laws—Prospects of the
Gitános—Partial Reformation—Decline of the Gypsy Sect—Fair
of Leon—Love of Race—Gypsy executed—Numerical Decrease
                              CHAPTER IV
Illustrations of Gypsy Character—The Gypsy Innkeeper of            221
Tarifa—The Gypsy Soldier of Valdepeñas
                              CHAPTER V
Various Points connected with the Gitános—Dress—Physical           243
Characteristics—The Gypsy Glance—Extracts from a Spanish
work
                              CHAPTER VI
Certain Tricks and Practices of the Gypsy Females—The              252
Bahi—Hokkano Baro—Ustilar Pastésas—Shoplifting—Drao—The
Loadstone—The Root of the Good Baron
                             CHAPTER VII
The Marriage Festival—Eastern Jews—Their Weddings                  266
                             CHAPTER VIII
Attempts made to enlighten the Gitános—The Inward                  274
Monitor—The One-eyed Gitána—Pépa and Chicharóna—The Gypsy
Congregation
                               PART III
                              CHAPTER I
The Poetry of the Gitános                                          287
                              CHAPTER II
Spurious Gypsy Poetry of Andalusia                                 298
Brijindope.—The Deluge                                             304
The Pestilence                                                     310
On the Language of the Gitános                                     313
   Robber Language                                                 335
   The Term ‘Busno’                                                354
Specimens of Gypsy Dialects                                        357
Vocabulary of their Language                                       365
                               APPENDIX
Miscellanies in the Gitáno Language                                415
The English Dialect of the Rommany                                 428

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Gypsy’s Marriage Dance (_photogravure_)                 _Frontispiece_
The Rearguard of the Marching Gypsies                _To face page_ 50
Travellers attacked by the Gitános                                  52
A Song of Egypt                                                    108
The Gypsy Smith of Granada                                         196
The Murder of Pindamonas by Pepe Conde                             198
Roasting Chestnuts by the side of the                              200
Guadalquiver
A Gypsy Family                                                     222



THE GYPSIES


INTRODUCTION


THROUGHOUT my life the Gypsy race has always had a peculiar interest for
me.  Indeed I can remember no period when the mere mention of the name of
Gypsy did not awaken within me feelings hard to be described.  I cannot
account for this—I merely state a fact.

Some of the Gypsies, to whom I have stated this circumstance, have
accounted for it on the supposition that the soul which at present
animates my body has at some former period tenanted that of one of their
people; for many among them are believers in metempsychosis, and, like
the followers of Bouddha, imagine that their souls, by passing through an
infinite number of bodies, attain at length sufficient purity to be
admitted to a state of perfect rest and quietude, which is the only idea
of heaven they can form.

Having in various and distant countries lived in habits of intimacy with
these people, I have come to the following conclusions respecting them:
that wherever they are found, their manners and customs are virtually the
same, though somewhat modified by circumstances, and that the language
they speak amongst themselves, and of which they are particularly anxious
to keep others in ignorance, is in all countries one and the same, but
has been subjected more or less to modification; and lastly, that their
countenances exhibit a decided family resemblance, but are darker or
fairer according to the temperature of the climate, but invariably
darker, at least in Europe, than those of the natives of the countries in
which they dwell, for example, England and Russia, Germany and Spain.

The names by which they are known differ with the country, though, with
one or two exceptions, not materially for example, they are styled in
Russia, Zigáni; in Turkey and Persia, Zingarri; and in Germany, Zigeuner;
all which words apparently spring from the same etymon, which there is no
improbability in supposing to be ‘Zincali,’ a term by which these people,
especially those of Spain, sometimes designate themselves, and the
meaning of which is believed to be, _The black men of Zend or Ind_.  In
England and Spain they are commonly known as Gypsies and Gitános, from a
general belief that they were originally Egyptians, to which the two
words are tantamount; and in France as Bohemians, from the circumstance
that Bohemia was one of the first countries in civilised Europe where
they made their appearance.

But they generally style themselves and the language which they speak,
Rommany.  This word, of which I shall ultimately have more to say, is of
Sanscrit origin, and signifies, The Husbands, or that which pertaineth
unto them.  From whatever motive this appellation may have originated, it
is perhaps more applicable than any other to a sect or caste like them,
who have no love and no affection beyond their own race; who are capable
of making great sacrifices for each other, and who gladly prey upon all
the rest of the human species, whom they detest, and by whom they are
hated and despised.  It will perhaps not be out of place to observe here,
that there is no reason for supposing that the word Roma or Rommany is
derived from the Arabic word which signifies Greece or Grecians, as some
people not much acquainted with the language of the race in question have
imagined.

I have no intention at present to say anything about their origin.
Scholars have asserted that the language which they speak proves them to
be of Indian stock, and undoubtedly a great number of their words are
Sanscrit.  My own opinion upon this subject will be found in a subsequent
article.  I shall here content myself with observing that from whatever
country they come, whether from India or Egypt, there can be no doubt
that they are human beings and have immortal souls; and it is in the
humble hope of drawing the attention of the Christian philanthropist
towards them, especially that degraded and unhappy portion of them, the
Gitános of Spain, that the present little work has been undertaken.  But
before proceeding to speak of the latter, it will perhaps not be amiss to
afford some account of the Rommany as I have seen them in other
countries; for there is scarcely a part of the habitable world where they
are not to be found: their tents are alike pitched on the heaths of
Brazil and the ridges of the Himalayan hills, and their language is heard
at Moscow and Madrid, in the streets of London and Stamboul.



THE ZIGÁNI, OR RUSSIAN GYPSIES


They are found in all parts of Russia, with the exception of the
government of St. Petersburg, from which they have been banished.  In
most of the provincial towns they are to be found in a state of
half-civilisation, supporting themselves by trafficking in horses, or by
curing the disorders incidental to those animals; but the vast majority
reject this manner of life, and traverse the country in bands, like the
ancient Hamaxobioi; the immense grassy plains of Russia affording
pasturage for their herds of cattle, on which, and the produce of the
chase, they chiefly depend for subsistence.  They are, however, not
destitute of money, which they obtain by various means, but principally
by curing diseases amongst the cattle of the mujíks or peasantry, and by
telling fortunes, and not unfrequently by theft and brigandage.

Their power of resisting cold is truly wonderful, as it is not uncommon
to find them encamped in the midst of the snow, in slight canvas tents,
when the temperature is twenty-five or thirty degrees below the
freezing-point according to Réaumur; but in the winter they generally
seek the shelter of the forests, which afford fuel for their fires, and
abound in game.

The race of the Rommany is by nature perhaps the most beautiful in the
world; and amongst the children of the Russian Zigáni are frequently to
be found countenances to do justice to which would require the pencil of
a second Murillo; but exposure to the rays of the burning sun, the biting
of the frost, and the pelting of the pitiless sleet and snow, destroys
their beauty at a very early age; and if in infancy their personal
advantages are remarkable, their ugliness at an advanced age is no less
so, for then it is loathsome, and even appalling.

A hundred years, could I live so long, would not efface from my mind the
appearance of an aged Ziganskie Attaman, or Captain of Zigáni, and his
grandson, who approached me on the meadow before Novo Gorod, where stood
the encampment of a numerous horde.  The boy was of a form and face which
might have entitled him to represent Astyanax, and Hector of Troy might
have pressed him to his bosom, and called him his pride; but the old man
was, perhaps, such a shape as Milton has alluded to, but could only
describe as execrable—he wanted but the dart and kingly crown to have
represented the monster who opposed the progress of Lucifer, whilst
careering in burning arms and infernal glory to the outlet of his hellish
prison.

But in speaking of the Russian Gypsies, those of Moscow must not be
passed over in silence.  The station to which they have attained in
society in that most remarkable of cities is so far above the sphere in
which the remainder of their race pass their lives, that it may be
considered as a phenomenon in Gypsy history, and on that account is
entitled to particular notice.

Those who have been accustomed to consider the Gypsy as a wandering
outcast, incapable of appreciating the blessings of a settled and
civilised life, or—if abandoning vagabond propensities, and becoming
stationary—as one who never ascends higher than the condition of a low
trafficker, will be surprised to learn, that amongst the Gypsies of
Moscow there are not a few who inhabit stately houses, go abroad in
elegant equipages, and are behind the higher orders of the Russians
neither in appearance nor mental acquirements.  To the power of song
alone this phenomenon is to be attributed.  From time immemorial the
female Gypsies of Moscow have been much addicted to the vocal art, and
bands or quires of them have sung for pay in the halls of the nobility or
upon the boards of the theatre.  Some first-rate songsters have been
produced among them, whose merits have been acknowledged, not only by the
Russian public, but by the most fastidious foreign critics.  Perhaps the
highest compliment ever paid to a songster was paid by Catalani herself
to one of these daughters of Roma.  It is well known throughout Russia
that the celebrated Italian was so enchanted with the voice of a Moscow
Gypsy (who, after the former had displayed her noble talent before a
splendid audience in the old Russian capital, stepped forward and poured
forth one of her national strains), that she tore from her own shoulders
a shawl of cashmire, which had been presented to her by the Pope, and,
embracing the Gypsy, insisted on her acceptance of the splendid gift,
saying, that it had been intended for the matchless songster, which she
now perceived she herself was not.

The sums obtained by many of these females by the exercise of their art
enable them to support their relatives in affluence and luxury: some are
married to Russians, and no one who has visited Russia can but be aware
that a lovely and accomplished countess, of the noble and numerous family
of Tolstoy, is by birth a Zigána, and was originally one of the principal
attractions of a Rommany choir at Moscow.

But it is not to be supposed that the whole of the Gypsy females at
Moscow are of this high and talented description; the majority of them
are of far lower quality, and obtain their livelihood by singing and
dancing at taverns, whilst their husbands in general follow the
occupation of horse-dealing.

Their favourite place of resort in the summer time is Marina Rotze, a
species of sylvan garden about two versts from Moscow, and thither,
tempted by curiosity, I drove one fine evening.  On my arrival the
Zigánas came flocking out from their little tents, and from the tractir
or inn which has been erected for the accommodation of the public.
Standing on the seat of the calash, I addressed them in a loud voice in
the English dialect of the Rommany, of which I have some knowledge.  A
shrill scream of wonder was instantly raised, and welcomes and blessings
were poured forth in floods of musical Rommany, above all of which
predominated the cry of _Kak camenna tute prala_—or, How we love you,
brother!—for at first they mistook me for one of their wandering brethren
from the distant lands, come over the great panee or ocean to visit them.

After some conversation they commenced singing, and favoured me with many
songs, both in Russian and Rommany: the former were modern popular
pieces, such as are accustomed to be sung on the boards of the theatre;
but the latter were evidently of great antiquity, exhibiting the
strongest marks of originality, the metaphors bold and sublime, and the
metre differing from anything of the kind which it has been my fortune to
observe in Oriental or European prosody.

One of the most remarkable, and which commences thus:

    ‘Za mateia rosherroro odolata
    Bravintata,’

(or, Her head is aching with grief, as if she had tasted wine) describes
the anguish of a maiden separated from her lover, and who calls for her
steed:

    ‘Tedjav manga gurraoro’—

that she may depart in quest of the lord of her bosom, and share his joys
and pleasures.

A collection of these songs, with a translation and vocabulary, would be
no slight accession to literature, and would probably throw more light on
the history of this race than anything which has yet appeared; and, as
there is no want of zeal and talent in Russia amongst the cultivators of
every branch of literature, and especially philology, it is only
surprising that such a collection still remains a desideratum.

The religion which these singular females externally professed was the
Greek, and they mostly wore crosses of copper or gold; but when I
questioned them on this subject in their native language, they laughed,
and said it was only to please the Russians.  Their names for God and his
adversary are Deval and Bengel, which differ little from the Spanish
Un-debel and Bengi, which signify the same.  I will now say something of



THE HUNGARIAN GYPSIES, OR CZIGÁNY


Hungary, though a country not a tenth part so extensive as the huge
colossus of the Russian empire, whose tzar reigns over a hundred lands,
contains perhaps as many Gypsies, it not being uncommon to find whole
villages inhabited by this race; they likewise abound in the suburbs of
the towns.  In Hungary the feudal system still exists in all its pristine
barbarity; in no country does the hard hand of this oppression bear so
heavy upon the lower classes—not even in Russia.  The peasants of Russia
are serfs, it is true, but their condition is enviable compared with that
of the same class in the other country; they have certain rights and
privileges, and are, upon the whole, happy and contented, whilst the
Hungarians are ground to powder.  Two classes are free in Hungary to do
almost what they please—the nobility and—the Gypsies; the former are
above the law—the latter below it: a toll is wrung from the hands of the
hard-working labourers, that most meritorious class, in passing over a
bridge, for example at Pesth, which is not demanded from a well-dressed
person—nor from the Czigány, who have frequently no dress at all—and
whose insouciance stands in striking contrast with the trembling
submission of the peasants.  The Gypsy, wherever you find him, is an
incomprehensible being, but nowhere more than in Hungary, where, in the
midst of slavery, he is free, though apparently one step lower than the
lowest slave.  The habits of the Hungarian Gypsies are abominable; their
hovels appear sinks of the vilest poverty and filth, their dress is at
best rags, their food frequently the vilest carrion, and occasionally, if
report be true, still worse—on which point, when speaking of the Spanish
Gitános, we shall have subsequently more to say: thus they live in filth,
in rags, in nakedness, and in merriness of heart, for nowhere is there
more of song and dance than in an Hungarian Gypsy village.  They are very
fond of music, and some of them are heard to touch the violin in a manner
wild, but of peculiar excellence.  Parties of them have been known to
exhibit even at Paris.

In Hungary, as in all parts, they are addicted to horse-dealing; they are
likewise tinkers, and smiths in a small way.  The women are
fortune-tellers, of course—both sexes thieves of the first water.  They
roam where they list—in a country where all other people are held under
strict surveillance, no one seems to care about these Parias.  The most
remarkable feature, however, connected with the habits of the Czigány,
consists in their foreign excursions, having plunder in view, which
frequently endure for three or four years, when, if no mischance has
befallen them, they return to their native land—rich; where they squander
the proceeds of their dexterity in mad festivals.  They wander in bands
of twelve and fourteen through France, even to Rome.  Once, during my own
wanderings in Italy, I rested at nightfall by the side of a kiln, the air
being piercingly cold; it was about four leagues from Genoa.  Presently
arrived three individuals to take advantage of the warmth—a man, a woman,
and a lad.  They soon began to discourse—and I found that they were
Hungarian Gypsies; they spoke of what they had been doing, and what they
had amassed—I think they mentioned nine hundred crowns.  They had
companions in the neighbourhood, some of whom they were expecting; they
took no notice of me, and conversed in their own dialect; I did not
approve of their propinquity, and rising, hastened away.

When Napoleon invaded Spain there were not a few Hungarian Gypsies in his
armies; some strange encounters occurred on the field of battle between
these people and the Spanish Gitános, one of which is related in the
second part of the present work.  When quartered in the Spanish towns,
the Czigány invariably sought out their peninsular brethren, to whom they
revealed themselves, kissing and embracing most affectionately; the
Gitános were astonished at the proficiency of the strangers in thievish
arts, and looked upon them almost in the light of superior beings: ‘They
knew the whole reckoning,’ is still a common expression amongst them.
There was a Czigánian soldier for some time at Cordoba, of whom the
Gitános of the place still frequently discourse, whilst smoking their
cigars during winter nights over their braséros.

The Hungarian Gypsies have a peculiar accent when speaking the language
of the country, by which they can be instantly distinguished; the same
thing is applicable to the Gitános of Spain when speaking Spanish.  In no
part of the world is the Gypsy language preserved better than in Hungary.

The following short prayer to the Virgin, which I have frequently heard
amongst the Gypsies of Hungary and Transylvania, will serve as a specimen
of their language:—

    Gula Devla, da me saschipo.  Swuntuna Devla, da me bacht t’ aldaschis
    cari me jav; te ferin man, Devla, sila ta niapaschiata, chungalé
    manuschendar, ke me jav andé drom ca hin man traba; ferin man, Devia;
    ma mek man Devla, ke manga man tre Devies-key.

    Sweet Goddess, give me health.  Holy Goddess, give me luck and grace
    wherever I go; and help me, Goddess, powerful and immaculate, from
    ugly men, that I may go in the road to the place I purpose: help me,
    Goddess; forsake me not, Goddess, for I pray for God’s sake.



WALLACHIA AND MOLDAVIA


In Wallachia and Moldavia, two of the eastern-most regions of Europe, are
to be found seven millions of people calling themselves Roumouni, and
speaking a dialect of the Latin tongue much corrupted by barbarous terms,
so called.  They are supposed to be in part descendants of Roman
soldiers, Rome in the days of her grandeur having established immense
military colonies in these parts.  In the midst of these people exist
vast numbers of Gypsies, amounting, I am disposed to think, to at least
two hundred thousand.  The land of the Roumouni, indeed, seems to have
been the hive from which the West of Europe derived the Gypsy part of its
population.  Far be it from me to say that the Gypsies sprang originally
from Roumouni-land.  All I mean is, that it was their grand resting-place
after crossing the Danube.  They entered Roumouni-land from Bulgaria,
crossing the great river, and from thence some went to the north-east,
overrunning Russia, others to the west of Europe, as far as Spain and
England.  That the early Gypsies of the West, and also those of Russia,
came from Roumouni-land, is easily proved, as in all the western Gypsy
dialects, and also in the Russian, are to be found words belonging to the
Roumouni speech; for example, primavera, spring; cheros, heaven; chorab,
stocking; chismey, boots;—Roum—primivari, cherul, chorapul, chismé.  One
might almost be tempted to suppose that the term Rommany, by which the
Gypsies of Russia and the West call themselves, was derived from
Roumouni, were it not for one fact, which is, that Romanus in the Latin
tongue merely means a native of Rome, whilst the specific meaning of Rome
still remains in the dark; whereas in Gypsy Rom means a husband, Rommany
the sect of the husbands; Romanesti if married.  Whether both words were
derived originally from the same source, as I believe some people have
supposed, is a question which, with my present lights, I cannot pretend
to determine.



THE ENGLISH GYPSIES


No country appears less adapted for that wandering life, which seems so
natural to these people, than England.  Those wildernesses and forests,
which they are so attached to, are not to be found there; every inch of
land is cultivated, and its produce watched with a jealous eye; and as
the laws against trampers, without the visible means of supporting
themselves, are exceedingly severe, the possibility of the Gypsies
existing as a distinct race, and retaining their original free and
independent habits, might naturally be called in question by those who
had not satisfactorily verified the fact.  Yet it is a truth that, amidst
all these seeming disadvantages, they not only exist there, but in no
part of the world is their life more in accordance with the general idea
that the Gypsy is like Cain, a wanderer of the earth; for in England the
covered cart and the little tent are the houses of the Gypsy, and he
seldom remains more than three days in the same place.

At present they are considered in some degree as a privileged people;
for, though their way of life is unlawful, it is connived at; the law of
England having discovered by experience, that its utmost fury is
inefficient to reclaim them from their inveterate habits.

Shortly after their first arrival in England, which is upwards of three
centuries since, a dreadful persecution was raised against them, the aim
of which was their utter extermination; the being a Gypsy was esteemed a
crime worthy of death, and the gibbets of England groaned and creaked
beneath the weight of Gypsy carcases, and the miserable survivors were
literally obliged to creep into the earth in order to preserve their
lives.  But these days passed by; their persecutors became weary of
pursuing them; they showed their heads from the holes and caves where
they had hidden themselves, they ventured forth, increased in numbers,
and, each tribe or family choosing a particular circuit, they fairly
divided the land amongst them.

In England, the male Gypsies are all dealers in horses, and sometimes
employ their idle time in mending the tin and copper utensils of the
peasantry; the females tell fortunes.  They generally pitch their tents
in the vicinity of a village or small town by the road side, under the
shelter of the hedges and trees.  The climate of England is well known to
be favourable to beauty, and in no part of the world is the appearance of
the Gypsies so prepossessing as in that country; their complexion is
dark, but not disagreeably so; their faces are oval, their features
regular, their foreheads rather low, and their hands and feet small.  The
men are taller than the English peasantry, and far more active.  They all
speak the English language with fluency, and in their gait and demeanour
are easy and graceful; in both points standing in striking contrast with
the peasantry, who in speech are slow and uncouth, and in manner dogged
and brutal.

The dialect of the Rommany, which they speak, though mixed with English
words, may be considered as tolerably pure, from the fact that it is
intelligible to the Gypsy race in the heart of Russia.  Whatever crimes
they may commit, their vices are few, for the men are not drunkards, nor
are the women harlots; there are no two characters which they hold in so
much abhorrence, nor do any words when applied by them convey so much
execration as these two.

The crimes of which these people were originally accused were various,
but the principal were theft, sorcery, and causing disease among the
cattle; and there is every reason for supposing that in none of these
points they were altogether guiltless.

With respect to sorcery, a thing in itself impossible, not only the
English Gypsies, but the whole race, have ever professed it; therefore,
whatever misery they may have suffered on that account, they may be
considered as having called it down upon their own heads.

Dabbling in sorcery is in some degree the province of the female Gypsy.
She affects to tell the future, and to prepare philtres by means of which
love can be awakened in any individual towards any particular object; and
such is the credulity of the human race, even in the most enlightened
countries, that the profits arising from these practices are great.  The
following is a case in point: two females, neighbours and friends, were
tried some years since, in England, for the murder of their husbands.  It
appeared that they were in love with the same individual, and had
conjointly, at various times, paid sums of money to a Gypsy woman to work
charms to captivate his affections.  Whatever little effect the charms
might produce, they were successful in their principal object, for the
person in question carried on for some time a criminal intercourse with
both.  The matter came to the knowledge of the husbands, who, taking
means to break off this connection, were respectively poisoned by their
wives.  Till the moment of conviction these wretched females betrayed
neither emotion nor fear, but then their consternation was indescribable;
and they afterwards confessed that the Gypsy, who had visited them in
prison, had promised to shield them from conviction by means of her art.
It is therefore not surprising that in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, when a belief in sorcery was supported by the laws of all
Europe, these people were regarded as practisers of sorcery, and punished
as such, when, even in the nineteenth, they still find people weak enough
to place confidence in their claims to supernatural power.

The accusation of producing disease and death amongst the cattle was far
from groundless.  Indeed, however strange and incredible it may sound in
the present day to those who are unacquainted with this caste, and the
peculiar habits of the Rommanees, the practice is still occasionally
pursued in England and many other countries where they are found.  From
this practice, when they are not detected, they derive considerable
advantage.  Poisoning cattle is exercised by them in two ways: by one,
they merely cause disease in the animals, with the view of receiving
money for curing them upon offering their services; the poison is
generally administered by powders cast at night into the mangers of the
animals: this way is only practised upon the larger cattle, such as
horses and cows.  By the other, which they practise chiefly on swine,
speedy death is almost invariably produced, the drug administered being
of a highly intoxicating nature, and affecting the brain.  They then
apply at the house or farm where the disaster has occurred for the
carcase of the animal, which is generally given them without suspicion,
and then they feast on the flesh, which is not injured by the poison,
which only affects the head.

The English Gypsies are constant attendants at the racecourse; what
jockey is not?  Perhaps jockeyism originated with them, and even racing,
at least in England.  Jockeyism properly implies _the management of a
whip_, and the word jockey is neither more nor less than the term
slightly modified, by which they designate the formidable whips which
they usually carry, and which are at present in general use amongst
horse-traffickers, under the title of jockey whips.  They are likewise
fond of resorting to the prize-ring, and have occasionally even attained
some eminence, as principals, in those disgraceful and brutalising
exhibitions called pugilistic combats.  I believe a great deal has been
written on the subject of the English Gypsies, but the writers have dwelt
too much in generalities; they have been afraid to take the Gypsy by the
hand, lead him forth from the crowd, and exhibit him in the area; he is
well worth observing.  When a boy of fourteen, I was present at a
prize-fight; why should I hide the truth?  It took place on a green
meadow, beside a running stream, close by the old church of E-, and
within a league of the ancient town of N-, the capital of one of the
eastern counties.  The terrible Thurtell was present, lord of the
concourse; for wherever he moved he was master, and whenever he spoke,
even when in chains, every other voice was silent.  He stood on the mead,
grim and pale as usual, with his bruisers around.  He it was, indeed, who
_got up_ the fight, as he had previously done twenty others; it being his
frequent boast that he had first introduced bruising and bloodshed amidst
rural scenes, and transformed a quiet slumbering town into a den of Jews
and metropolitan thieves.  Some time before the commencement of the
combat, three men, mounted on wild-looking horses, came dashing down the
road in the direction of the meadow, in the midst of which they presently
showed themselves, their horses clearing the deep ditches with wonderful
alacrity.  ‘That’s Gypsy Will and his gang,’ lisped a Hebrew pickpocket;
‘we shall have another fight.’  The word Gypsy was always sufficient to
excite my curiosity, and I looked attentively at the newcomers.

I have seen Gypsies of various lands, Russian, Hungarian, and Turkish;
and I have also seen the legitimate children of most countries of the
world; but I never saw, upon the whole, three more remarkable
individuals, as far as personal appearance was concerned, than the three
English Gypsies who now presented themselves to my eyes on that spot.
Two of them had dismounted, and were holding their horses by the reins.
The tallest, and, at the first glance, the most interesting of the two,
was almost a giant, for his height could not have been less than six feet
three.  It is impossible for the imagination to conceive anything more
perfectly beautiful than were the features of this man, and the most
skilful sculptor of Greece might have taken them as his model for a hero
and a god.  The forehead was exceedingly lofty,—a rare thing in a Gypsy;
the nose less Roman than Grecian,—fine yet delicate; the eyes large,
overhung with long drooping lashes, giving them almost a melancholy
expression; it was only when the lashes were elevated that the Gypsy
glance was seen, if that can be called a glance which is a strange stare,
like nothing else in this world.  His complexion was a beautiful olive;
and his teeth were of a brilliancy uncommon even amongst these people,
who have all fine teeth.  He was dressed in a coarse waggoner’s slop,
which, however, was unable to conceal altogether the proportions of his
noble and Herculean figure.  He might be about twenty-eight.  His
companion and his captain, Gypsy Will, was, I think, fifty when he was
hanged, ten years subsequently (for I never afterwards lost sight of
him), in the front of the jail of Bury St. Edmunds.  I have still present
before me his bushy black hair, his black face, and his big black eyes
fixed and staring.  His dress consisted of a loose blue jockey coat,
jockey boots and breeches; in his hand was a huge jockey whip, and on his
head (it struck me at the time for its singularity) a broad-brimmed,
high-peaked Andalusian hat, or at least one very much resembling those
generally worn in that province.  In stature he was shorter than his more
youthful companion, yet he must have measured six feet at least, and was
stronger built, if possible.  What brawn!—what bone!—what legs!—what
thighs!  The third Gypsy, who remained on horseback, looked more like a
phantom than any thing human.  His complexion was the colour of pale
dust, and of that same colour was all that pertained to him, hat and
clothes.  His boots were dusty of course, for it was midsummer, and his
very horse was of a dusty dun.  His features were whimsically ugly, most
of his teeth were gone, and as to his age, he might be thirty or sixty.
He was somewhat lame and halt, but an unequalled rider when once upon his
steed, which he was naturally not very solicitous to quit.  I
subsequently discovered that he was considered the wizard of the gang.

I have been already prolix with respect to these Gypsies, but I will not
leave them quite yet.  The intended combatants at length arrived; it was
necessary to clear the ring,—always a troublesome and difficult task.
Thurtell went up to the two Gypsies, with whom he seemed to be
acquainted, and with his surly smile, said two or three words, which I,
who was standing by, did not understand.  The Gypsies smiled in return,
and giving the reins of their animals to their mounted companion,
immediately set about the task which the king of the flash-men had, as I
conjecture, imposed upon them; this they soon accomplished.  Who could
stand against such fellows and such whips?  The fight was soon over—then
there was a pause.  Once more Thurtell came up to the Gypsies and said
something—the Gypsies looked at each other and conversed; but their words
then had no meaning for my ears.  The tall Gypsy shook his head—‘Very
well,’ said the other, in English.  ‘I will—that’s all.’

Then pushing the people aside, he strode to the ropes, over which he
bounded into the ring, flinging his Spanish hat high into the air.

_Gypsy Will_.—‘The best man in England for twenty pounds!’

_Thurtell_.—‘I am backer!’

Twenty pounds is a tempting sum, and there 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.



SOME FURTHER PARTICULARS RESPECTING THE ENGLISH GYPSIES


It is difficult to say at what period the Gypsies or Rommany made their
first appearance in England.  They had become, however, such a nuisance
in the time of Henry the Eighth, Philip and Mary, and Elizabeth, that
Gypsyism was denounced by various royal statutes, and, if persisted in,
was to be punished as felony without benefit of clergy; it is probable,
however, that they had overrun England long before the period of the
earliest of these monarchs.  The Gypsies penetrate into all countries,
save poor ones, and it is hardly to be supposed that a few leagues of
intervening salt water would have kept a race so enterprising any
considerable length of time, after their arrival on the continent of
Europe, from obtaining a footing in the fairest and richest country of
the West.

It is easy enough to conceive the manner in which the Gypsies lived in
England for a long time subsequent to their arrival: doubtless in a
half-savage state, wandering about from place to place, encamping on the
uninhabited spots, of which there were then so many in England, feared
and hated by the population, who looked upon them as thieves and foreign
sorcerers, occasionally committing acts of brigandage, but depending
chiefly for subsistence on the practice of the ‘arts of Egypt,’ in which
cunning and dexterity were far more necessary than courage or strength of
hand.

It would appear that they were always divided into clans or tribes, each
bearing a particular name, and to which a particular district more
especially belonged, though occasionally they would exchange districts
for a period, and, incited by their characteristic love of wandering,
would travel far and wide.  Of these families each had a sher-engro, or
head man, but that they were ever united under one Rommany Krallis, or
Gypsy King, as some people have insisted, there is not the slightest
ground for supposing.

It is possible that many of the original Gypsy tribes are no longer in
existence: disease or the law may have made sad havoc among them, and the
few survivors have incorporated themselves with other families, whose
name they have adopted.  Two or three instances of this description have
occurred within the sphere of my own knowledge: the heads of small
families have been cut off, and the subordinate members, too young and
inexperienced to continue Gypsying as independent wanderers, have been
adopted by other tribes.

The principal Gypsy tribes at present in existence are the Stanleys,
whose grand haunt is the New Forest; the Lovells, who are fond of London
and its vicinity; the Coopers, who call Windsor Castle their home; the
Hernes, to whom the north country, more especially Yorkshire, belongeth;
and lastly, my brethren, the Smiths,—to whom East Anglia appears to have
been allotted from the beginning.

All these families have Gypsy names, which seem, however, to be little
more than attempts at translation of the English ones:—thus the Stanleys
are called Bar-engres {25}, which means stony-fellows, or stony-hearts;
the Coopers, Wardo-engres, or wheelwrights; the Lovells, Camo-mescres, or
amorous fellows the Hernes (German Haaren) Balors, hairs, or hairy men;
while the Smiths are called Petul-engres, signifying horseshoe fellows,
or blacksmiths.

It is not very easy to determine how the Gypsies became possessed of some
of these names: the reader, however, will have observed that two of them,
Stanley and Lovell, are the names of two highly aristocratic English
families; the Gypsies who bear them perhaps adopted them from having, at
their first arrival, established themselves on the estates of those great
people; or it is possible that they translated their original Gypsy
appellations by these names, which they deemed synonymous.  Much the same
may be said with respect to Herne, an ancient English name; they probably
sometimes officiated as coopers or wheelwrights, whence the
cognomination.  Of the term Petul-engro, or Smith, however, I wish to say
something in particular.

There is every reason for believing that this last is a genuine Gypsy
name, brought with them from the country from which they originally came;
it is compounded of two words, signifying, as has been already observed,
horseshoe fellows, or people whose trade is to manufacture horseshoes, a
trade which the Gypsies ply in various parts of the world,—for example,
in Russia and Hungary, and more particularly about Granada in Spain, as
will subsequently be shown.  True it is, that at present there are none
amongst the English Gypsies who manufacture horseshoes; all the men,
however, are tinkers more or less, and the word Petul-engro is applied to
the tinker also, though the proper meaning of it is undoubtedly what I
have already stated above.  In other dialects of the Gypsy tongue, this
cognomen exists, though not exactly with the same signification; for
example, in the Hungarian dialect, _Pindoro_, which is evidently a
modification of Petul-engro, is applied to a Gypsy in general, whilst in
Spanish Pepindorio is the Gypsy word for Antonio.  In some parts of
Northern Asia, the Gypsies call themselves Wattul {26}, which seems to be
one and the same as Petul.

Besides the above-named Gypsy clans, there are other smaller ones, some
of which do not comprise more than a dozen individuals, children
included.  For example, the Bosviles, the Browns, the Chilcotts, the
Grays, Lees, Taylors, and Whites; of these the principal is the Bosvile
tribe.

After the days of the great persecution in England against the Gypsies,
there can be little doubt that they lived a right merry and tranquil
life, wandering about and pitching their tents wherever inclination led
them: indeed, I can scarcely conceive any human condition more enviable
than Gypsy life must have been in England during the latter part of the
seventeenth, and the whole of the eighteenth century, which were likewise
the happy days for Englishmen in general; there was peace and plenty in
the land, a contented population, and everything went well.  Yes, those
were brave times for the Rommany chals, to which the old people often
revert with a sigh: the poor Gypsies, say they, were then allowed to
_sove abri_ (sleep abroad) where they listed, to heat their kettles at
the foot of the oaks, and no people grudged the poor persons one night’s
use of a meadow to feed their cattle in.  _Tugnis amande_, our heart is
heavy, brother,—there is no longer Gypsy law in the land,—our people have
become negligent,—they are but half Rommany,—they are divided and care
for nothing,—they do not even fear Pazorrhus, brother.

Much the same complaints are at present made by the Spanish Gypsies.
Gypsyism is certainly on the decline in both countries.  In England, a
superabundant population, and, of late, a very vigilant police, have done
much to modify Gypsy life; whilst in Spain, causes widely different have
produced a still greater change, as will be seen further on.

Gypsy law does not flourish at present in England, and still less in
Spain, nor does Gypsyism.  I need not explain here what Gypsyism is, but
the reader may be excused for asking what is Gypsy law.  Gypsy law
divides itself into the three following heads or precepts:—

    Separate not from _the husbands_.

    Be faithful to _the husbands_.

    Pay your debts to _the husbands_.

By the first section the Rom or Gypsy is enjoined to live with his
brethren, the husbands, and not with the gorgios {28} or gentiles; he is
to live in a tent, as is befitting a Rom and a wanderer, and not in a
house, which ties him to one spot; in a word, he is in every respect to
conform to the ways of his own people, and to eschew those of gorgios,
with whom he is not to mix, save to tell them _hoquepenes_ (lies), and to
chore them.

The second section, in which fidelity is enjoined, was more particularly
intended for the women: be faithful to the _Roms_, ye _juwas_, and take
not up with the gorgios, whether they be _raior_ or _bauor_ (gentlemen or
fellows).  This was a very important injunction, so much so, indeed, that
upon the observance of it depended the very existence of the Rommany
sect,—for if the female Gypsy admitted the gorgio to the privilege of the
Rom, the race of the Rommany would quickly disappear.  How well this
injunction has been observed needs scarcely be said; for the Rommany have
been roving about England for three centuries at least, and are still to
be distinguished from the gorgios in feature and complexion, which
assuredly would not have been the case if the juwas had not been faithful
to the Roms.  The gorgio says that the juwa is at his disposal in all
things, because she tells him fortunes and endures his free discourse;
but the Rom, when he hears the boast, laughs within his sleeve, and
whispers to himself, _Let him try_.

The third section, which relates to the paying of debts, is highly
curious.  In the Gypsy language, the state of being in debt is called
_Pazorrhus_, and the Rom who did not seek to extricate himself from that
state was deemed infamous, and eventually turned out of the society.  It
has been asserted, I believe, by various gorgio writers, that the Roms
have everything in common, and that there is a common stock out of which
every one takes what he needs; this is quite a mistake, however: a Gypsy
tribe is an epitome of the world; every one keeps his own purse and
maintains himself and children to the best of his ability, and every tent
is independent of the other.  True it is that one Gypsy will lend to
another in the expectation of being repaid, and until that happen the
borrower is pazorrhus, or indebted.  Even at the present time, a Gypsy
will make the greatest sacrifices rather than remain pazorrhus to one of
his brethren, even though he be of another clan; though perhaps the
feeling is not so strong as of old, for time modifies everything; even
Jews and Gypsies are affected by it.  In the old time, indeed, the Gypsy
law was so strong against the debtor, that provided he could not repay
his brother husband, he was delivered over to him as his slave for a year
and a day, and compelled to serve him as a hewer of wood, a drawer of
water, or a beast of burden; but those times are past, the Gypsies are no
longer the independent people they were of yore,—dark, mysterious, and
dreaded wanderers, living apart in the deserts and heaths with which
England at one time abounded.  Gypsy law has given place to common law;
but the principle of honour is still recognised amongst them, and base
indeed must the Gypsy be who would continue pazorrhus because Gypsy law
has become too weak to force him to liquidate a debt by money or by
service.

Such was Gypsy law in England, and there is every probability that it is
much the same in all parts of the world where the Gypsy race is to be
found.  About the peculiar practices of the Gypsies I need not say much
here; the reader will find in the account of the Spanish Gypsies much
that will afford him an idea of Gypsy arts in England.  I have already
alluded to _chiving drav_, or poisoning, which is still much practised by
the English Gypsies, though it has almost entirely ceased in Spain; then
there is _chiving luvvu adrey puvo_, or putting money within the earth, a
trick by which the females deceive the gorgios, and which will be more
particularly described in the affairs of Spain: the men are adepts at
cheating the gorgios by means of _nok-engroes_ and _poggado-bavengroes_
(glandered and broken-winded horses).  But, leaving the subject of their
tricks and Rommany arts, by no means an agreeable one, I will take the
present opportunity of saying a few words about a practice of theirs,
highly characteristic of a wandering people, and which is only extant
amongst those of the race who still continue to wander much; for example,
the Russian Gypsies and those of the Hungarian family, who stroll through
Italy on plundering expeditions: I allude to the _patteran_ or _trail_.

It is very possible that the reader during his country walks or rides has
observed, on coming to four cross-roads, two or three handfuls of grass
lying at a small distance from each other down one of these roads;
perhaps he may have supposed that this grass was recently plucked from
the roadside by frolicsome children, and flung upon the ground in sport,
and this may possibly have been the case; it is ten chances to one,
however, that no children’s hands plucked them, but that they were
strewed in this manner by Gypsies, for the purpose of informing any of
their companions, who might be straggling behind, the route which they
had taken; this is one form of the patteran or trail.  It is likely, too,
that the gorgio reader may have seen a cross drawn at the entrance of a
road, the long part or stem of it pointing down that particular road, and
he may have thought nothing of it, or have supposed that some sauntering
individual like himself had made the mark with his stick: not so,
courteous gorgio; ley tiro solloholomus opré lesti, _you may take your
oath upon it_ that it was drawn by a Gypsy finger, for that mark is
another of the Rommany trails; there is no mistake in this.  Once in the
south of France, when I was weary, hungry, and penniless, I observed one
of these last patterans, and following the direction pointed out, arrived
at the resting-place of ‘certain Bohemians,’ by whom I was received with
kindness and hospitality, on the faith of no other word of recommendation
than patteran.  There is also another kind of patteran, which is more
particularly adapted for the night; it is a cleft stick stuck at the side
of the road, close by the hedge, with a little arm in the cleft pointing
down the road which the band have taken, in the manner of a signpost; any
stragglers who may arrive at night where cross-roads occur search for
this patteran on the left-hand side, and speedily rejoin their
companions.

By following these patterans, or trails, the first Gypsies on their way
to Europe never lost each other, though wandering amidst horrid
wildernesses and dreary defiles.  Rommany matters have always had a
peculiar interest for me; nothing, however, connected with Gypsy life
ever more captivated my imagination than this patteran system: many
thanks to the Gypsies for it; it has more than once been of service to
me.

The English Gypsies at the present day are far from being a numerous
race; I consider their aggregate number, from the opportunities which I
have had of judging, to be considerably under ten thousand: it is
probable that, ere the conclusion of the present century, they will have
entirely disappeared.  They are in general quite strangers to the
commonest rudiments of education; few even of the most wealthy can either
read or write.  With respect to religion, they call themselves members of
the Established Church, and are generally anxious to have their children
baptized, and to obtain a copy of the register.  Some of their baptismal
papers, which they carry about with them, are highly curious, going back
for a period of upwards of two hundred years.  With respect to the
essential points of religion, they are quite careless and ignorant; if
they believe in a future state they dread it not, and if they manifest
when dying any anxiety, it is not for the soul, but the body: a handsome
coffin, and a grave in a quiet country churchyard, are invariably the
objects of their last thoughts; and it is probable that, in their
observance of the rite of baptism, they are principally influenced by a
desire to enjoy the privilege of burial in consecrated ground.  A Gypsy
family never speak of their dead save with regret and affection, and any
request of the dying individual is attended to, especially with regard to
interment; so much so, that I have known a corpse conveyed a distance of
nearly one hundred miles, because the deceased expressed a wish to be
buried in a particular spot.

Of the language of the English Gypsies, some specimens will be given in
the sequel; it is much more pure and copious than the Spanish dialect.
It has been asserted that the English Gypsies are not possessed of any
poetry in their own tongue; but this is a gross error; they possess a
great many songs and ballads upon ordinary subjects, without any
particular merit, however, and seemingly of a very modern date.



THE GYPSIES OF THE EAST, OR ZINGARRI


What has been said of the Gypsies of Europe is, to a considerable extent,
applicable to their brethren in the East, or, as they are called,
Zingarri; they are either found wandering amongst the deserts or
mountains, or settled in towns, supporting themselves by horse-dealing or
jugglery, by music and song.  In no part of the East are they more
numerous than in Turkey, especially in Constantinople, where the females
frequently enter the harems of the great, pretending to cure children of
‘the evil eye,’ and to interpret the dreams of the women.  They are not
unfrequently seen in the coffee-houses, exhibiting their figures in
lascivious dances to the tune of various instruments; yet these females
are by no means unchaste, however their manners and appearance may denote
the contrary, and either Turk or Christian who, stimulated by their songs
and voluptuous movements, should address them with proposals of a
dishonourable nature, would, in all probability, meet with a decided
repulse.

Among the Zingarri are not a few who deal in precious stones, and some
who vend poisons; and the most remarkable individual whom it has been my
fortune to encounter amongst the Gypsies, whether of the Eastern or
Western world, was a person who dealt in both these articles.  He was a
native of Constantinople, and in the pursuit of his trade had visited the
most remote and remarkable portions of the world.  He had traversed alone
and on foot the greatest part of India; he spoke several dialects of the
Malay, and understood the original language of Java, that isle more
fertile in poisons than even ‘far Iolchos and Spain.’ From what I could
learn from him, it appeared that his jewels were in less request than his
drugs, though he assured me that there was scarcely a Bey or Satrap in
Persia or Turkey whom he had not supplied with both.  I have seen this
individual in more countries than one, for he flits over the world like
the shadow of a cloud; the last time at Granada in Spain, whither he had
come after paying a visit to his Gitáno brethren in the presidio of
Ceuta.

Few Eastern authors have spoken of the Zingarri, notwithstanding they
have been known in the East for many centuries; amongst the few, none has
made more curious mention of them than Arabschah, in a chapter of his
life of Timour or Tamerlane, which is deservedly considered as one of the
three classic works of Arabian literature.  This passage, which, while it
serves to illustrate the craft, if not the valour of the conqueror of
half the world, offers some curious particulars as to Gypsy life in the
East at a remote period, will scarcely be considered out of place if
reproduced here, and the following is as close a translation of it as the
metaphorical style of the original will allow.

    ‘There were in Samarcand numerous families of Zingarri of various
    descriptions: some were wrestlers, others gladiators, others
    pugilists.  These people were much at variance, so that hostilities
    and battling were continually arising amongst them.  Each band had
    its chief and subordinate officers; and it came to pass that Timour
    and the power which he possessed filled them with dread, for they
    knew that he was aware of their crimes and disorderly way of life.
    Now it was the custom of Timour, on departing upon his expeditions,
    to leave a viceroy in Samarcand; but no sooner had he left the city,
    than forth marched these bands, and giving battle to the viceroy,
    deposed him and took possession of the government, so that on the
    return of Timour he found order broken, confusion reigning, and his
    throne overturned, and then he had much to do in restoring things to
    their former state, and in punishing or pardoning the guilty; but no
    sooner did he depart again to his wars, and to his various other
    concerns, than they broke out into the same excesses, and this they
    repeated no less than three times, and he at length laid a plan for
    their utter extermination, and it was the following:—He commenced
    building a wall, and he summoned unto him the people small and great,
    and he allotted to every man his place, and to every workman his
    duty, and he stationed the Zingarri and their chieftains apart; and
    in one particular spot he placed a band of soldiers, and he commanded
    them to kill whomsoever he should send to them; and having done so,
    he called to him the heads of the people, and he filled the cup for
    them and clothed them in splendid vests; and when the turn came to
    the Zingarri, he likewise pledged one of them, and bestowed a vest
    upon him, and sent him with a message to the soldiers, who, as soon
    as he arrived, tore from him his vest, and stabbed him, pouring forth
    the gold of his heart into the pan of destruction, {36} and in this
    way they continued until the last of them was destroyed; and by that
    blow he exterminated their race, and their traces, and from that time
    forward there were no more rebellions in Samarcand.’

It has of late years been one of the favourite theories of the learned,
that Timour’s invasion of Hindostan, and the cruelties committed by his
savage hordes in that part of the world, caused a vast number of Hindoos
to abandon their native land, and that the Gypsies of the present day are
the descendants of those exiles who wended their weary way to the West.
Now, provided the above passage in the work of Arabschah be entitled to
credence, the opinion that Timour was the cause of the expatriation and
subsequent wandering life of these people, must be abandoned as
untenable.  At the time he is stated by the Arabian writer to have
annihilated the Gypsy hordes of Samarcand, he had but just commenced his
career of conquest and devastation, and had not even directed his
thoughts to the invasion of India; yet at this early period of the
history of his life, we find families of Zingarri established at
Samarcand, living much in the same manner as others of the race have
subsequently done in various towns of Europe and the East; but supposing
the event here narrated to be a fable, or at best a floating legend, it
appears singular that, if they left their native land to escape from
Timour, they should never have mentioned in the Western world the name of
that scourge of the human race, nor detailed the history of their flight
and sufferings, which assuredly would have procured them sympathy; the
ravages of Timour being already but too well known in Europe.  That they
came from India is much easier to prove than that they fled before the
fierce Mongol.

Such people as the Gypsies, whom the Bishop of Forli in the year 1422,
only sixteen years subsequent to the invasion of India, describes as a
‘raging rabble, of brutal and animal propensities,’ {37} are not such as
generally abandon their country on foreign invasion.



THE ZINCALI
PART I


CHAPTER I


GITÁNOS, or Egyptians, is the name by which the Gypsies have been most
generally known in Spain, in the ancient as well as in the modern period,
but various other names have been and still are applied to them; for
example, New Castilians, Germans, and Flemings; the first of which titles
probably originated after the name of Gitáno had begun to be considered a
term of reproach and infamy.  They may have thus designated themselves
from an unwillingness to utter, when speaking of themselves, the detested
expression ‘Gitáno,’ a word which seldom escapes their mouths; or it may
have been applied to them first by the Spaniards, in their mutual
dealings and communication, as a term less calculated to wound their
feelings and to beget a spirit of animosity than the other; but, however
it might have originated, New Castilian, in course of time, became a term
of little less infamy than Gitáno; for, by the law of Philip the Fourth,
both terms are forbidden to be applied to them under severe penalties.

That they were called Germans, may be accounted for, either by the
supposition that their generic name of Rommany was misunderstood and
mispronounced by the Spaniards amongst whom they came, or from the fact
of their having passed through Germany in their way to the south, and
bearing passports and letters of safety from the various German states.
The title of Flemings, by which at the present day they are known in
various parts of Spain, would probably never have been bestowed upon them
but from the circumstance of their having been designated or believed to
be Germans,—as German and Fleming are considered by the ignorant as
synonymous terms.

Amongst themselves they have three words to distinguish them and their
race in general: Zíncalo, Romanó, and Chai; of the first two of which
something has been already said.

They likewise call themselves ‘Cales,’ by which appellation indeed they
are tolerably well known by the Spaniards, and which is merely the plural
termination of the compound word Zíncalo, and signifies, The black men.
Chai is a modification of the word Chal, which, by the Gitános of
Estremadura, is applied to Egypt, and in many parts of Spain is
equivalent to ‘Heaven,’ and which is perhaps a modification of ‘Cheros,’
the word for heaven in other dialects of the Gypsy language.  Thus Chai
may denote, The men of Egypt, or, The sons of Heaven.  It is, however,
right to observe, that amongst the Gitános, the word Chai has frequently
no other signification than the simple one of ‘children.’

It is impossible to state for certainty the exact year of their first
appearance in Spain; but it is reasonable to presume that it was early in
the fifteenth century; as in the year 1417 numerous bands entered France
from the north-east of Europe, and speedily spread themselves over the
greatest part of that country.  Of these wanderers a French author has
left the following graphic description: {43}

    ‘On the 17th of April 1427, appeared in Paris twelve penitents of
    Egypt, driven from thence by the Saracens; they brought in their
    company one hundred and twenty persons; they took up their quarters
    in La Chapelle, whither the people flocked in crowds to visit them.
    They had their ears pierced, from which depended a ring of silver;
    their hair was black and crispy, and their women were filthy to a
    degree, and were sorceresses who told fortunes.’

Such were the people who, after traversing France and scaling the sides
of the Pyrenees, poured down in various bands upon the sunburnt plains of
Spain.  Wherever they had appeared they had been looked upon as a curse
and a pestilence, and with much reason.  Either unwilling or unable to
devote themselves to any laborious or useful occupation, they came like
flights of wasps to prey upon the fruits which their more industrious
fellow-beings amassed by the toil of their hands and the sweat of their
foreheads; the natural result being, that wherever they arrived, their
fellow-creatures banded themselves against them.  Terrible laws were
enacted soon after their appearance in France, calculated to put a stop
to their frauds and dishonest propensities; wherever their hordes were
found, they were attacked by the incensed rustics or by the armed hand of
justice, and those who were not massacred on the spot, or could not
escape by flight, were, without a shadow of a trial, either hanged on the
next tree, or sent to serve for life in the galleys; or if females or
children, either scourged or mutilated.

The consequence of this severity, which, considering the manners and
spirit of the time, is scarcely to be wondered at, was the speedy
disappearance of the Gypsies from the soil of France.

Many returned by the way they came, to Germany, Hungary, and the woods
and forests of Bohemia; but there is little doubt that by far the greater
portion found a refuge in the Peninsula, a country which, though by no
means so rich and fertile as the one they had quitted, nor offering so
wide and ready a field for the exercise of those fraudulent arts for
which their race had become so infamously notorious, was, nevertheless,
in many respects, suitable and congenial to them.  If there were less
gold and silver in the purses of the citizens to reward the dexterous
handler of the knife and scissors amidst the crowd in the market-place;
if fewer sides of fatted swine graced the ample chimney of the labourer
in Spain than in the neighbouring country; if fewer beeves bellowed in
the plains, and fewer sheep bleated upon the hills, there were far better
opportunities afforded of indulging in wild independence.  Should the
halberded bands of the city be ordered out to quell, seize, or
exterminate them; should the alcalde of the village cause the tocsin to
be rung, gathering together the villanos for a similar purpose, the wild
sierra was generally at hand, which, with its winding paths, its caves,
its frowning precipices, and ragged thickets, would offer to them a
secure refuge where they might laugh to scorn the rage of their baffled
pursuers, and from which they might emerge either to fresh districts or
to those which they had left, to repeat their ravages when opportunity
served.

After crossing the Pyrenees, a very short time elapsed before the Gypsy
hordes had bivouacked in the principal provinces of Spain.  There can
indeed be little doubt, that shortly after their arrival they made
themselves perfectly acquainted with all the secrets of the land, and
that there was scarcely a nook or retired corner within Spain, from which
the smoke of their fires had not arisen, or where their cattle had not
grazed.  People, however, so acute as they have always proverbially been,
would scarcely be slow in distinguishing the provinces most adapted to
their manner of life, and most calculated to afford them opportunities of
practising those arts to which they were mainly indebted for their
subsistence; the savage hills of Biscay, of Galicia, and the Asturias,
whose inhabitants were almost as poor as themselves, which possessed no
superior breed of horses or mules from amongst which they might pick and
purloin many a gallant beast, and having transformed by their dexterous
scissors, impose him again upon his rightful master for a high
price,—such provinces, where, moreover, provisions were hard to be
obtained, even by pilfering hands, could scarcely be supposed to offer
strong temptations to these roving visitors to settle down in, or to vex
and harass by a long sojourn.

Valencia and Murcia found far more favour in their eyes; a far more
fertile soil, and wealthier inhabitants, were better calculated to entice
them; there was a prospect of plunder, and likewise a prospect of safety
and refuge, should the dogs of justice be roused against them.  If there
were the populous town and village in those lands, there was likewise the
lone waste, and uncultivated spot, to which they could retire when danger
threatened them.  Still more suitable to them must have been La Mancha, a
land of tillage, of horses, and of mules, skirted by its brown sierra,
ever eager to afford its shelter to their dusky race.  Equally suitable,
Estremadura and New Castile; but far, far more, Andalusia, with its three
kingdoms, Jaen, Granada, and Seville, one of which was still possessed by
the swarthy Moor,—Andalusia, the land of the proud steed and the stubborn
mule, the land of the savage sierra and the fruitful and cultivated
plain: to Andalusia they hied, in bands of thirties and sixties; the
hoofs of their asses might be heard clattering in the passes of the stony
hills; the girls might be seen bounding in lascivious dance in the
streets of many a town, and the beldames standing beneath the eaves
telling the ‘buena ventura’ to many a credulous female dupe; the men the
while chaffered in the fair and market-place with the labourers and
chalanes, casting significant glances on each other, or exchanging a word
or two in Rommany, whilst they placed some uncouth animal in a particular
posture which served to conceal its ugliness from the eyes of the
chapman.  Yes, of all provinces of Spain, Andalusia was the most
frequented by the Gitáno race, and in Andalusia they most abound at the
present day, though no longer as restless independent wanderers of the
fields and hills, but as residents in villages and towns, especially in
Seville.



CHAPTER II


HAVING already stated to the reader at what period and by what means
these wanderers introduced themselves into Spain, we shall now say
something concerning their manner of life.

It would appear that, for many years after their arrival in the
Peninsula, their manners and habits underwent no change; they were
wanderers, in the strictest sense of the word, and lived much in the same
way as their brethren exist in the present day in England, Russia, and
Bessarabia, with the exception perhaps of being more reckless,
mischievous, and having less respect for the laws; it is true that their
superiority in wickedness in these points may have been more the effect
of the moral state of the country in which they were, than of any other
operating cause.

Arriving in Spain with a predisposition to every species of crime and
villainy, they were not likely to be improved or reclaimed by the example
of the people with whom they were about to mix; nor was it probable that
they would entertain much respect for laws which, from time immemorial,
have principally served, not to protect the honest and useful members of
society, but to enrich those entrusted with the administration of them.
Thus, if they came thieves, it is not probable that they would become
ashamed of the title of thief in Spain, where the officers of justice
were ever willing to shield an offender on receiving the largest portion
of the booty obtained.  If on their arrival they held the lives of others
in very low estimation, could it be expected that they would become
gentle as lambs in a land where blood had its price, and the shedder was
seldom executed unless he was poor and friendless, and unable to cram
with ounces of yellow gold the greedy hands of the pursuers of blood,—the
alguazil and escribano? therefore, if the Spanish Gypsies have been more
bloody and more wolfishly eager in the pursuit of booty than those of
their race in most other regions, the cause must be attributed to their
residence in a country unsound in every branch of its civil polity, where
right has ever been in less esteem, and wrong in less disrepute, than in
any other part of the world.

However, if the moral state of Spain was not calculated to have a
favourable effect on the habits and pursuits of the Gypsies, their
manners were as little calculated to operate beneficially, in any point
of view, on the country where they had lately arrived.  Divided into
numerous bodies, frequently formidable in point of number, their presence
was an evil and a curse in whatever quarter they directed their steps.
As might be expected, the labourers, who in all countries are the most
honest, most useful, and meritorious class, were the principal sufferers;
their mules and horses were stolen, carried away to distant fairs, and
there disposed of, perhaps, to individuals destined to be deprived of
them in a similar manner; whilst their flocks of sheep and goats were
laid under requisition to assuage the hungry cravings of these thievish
cormorants.

             [Picture: The Rearguard of the Marching Gypsies]

It was not uncommon for a large band or tribe to encamp in the vicinity
of a remote village scantily peopled, and to remain there until, like a
flight of locusts, they had consumed everything which the inhabitants
possessed for their support; or until they were scared away by the
approach of justice, or by an army of rustics assembled from the
surrounding country.  Then would ensue the hurried march; the women and
children, mounted on lean but spirited asses, would scour along the
plains fleeter than the wind; ragged and savage-looking men, wielding the
scourge and goad, would scamper by their side or close behind, whilst
perhaps a small party on strong horses, armed with rusty matchlocks or
sabres, would bring up the rear, threatening the distant foe, and now and
then saluting them with a hoarse blast from the Gypsy horn:—

    ‘O, when I sit my courser bold,
       My bantling in my rear,
    And in my hand my musket hold—
       O how they quake with fear!’

Let us for a moment suppose some unfortunate traveller, mounted on a
handsome mule or beast of some value, meeting, unarmed and alone, such a
rabble rout at the close of eve, in the wildest part, for example, of La
Mancha; we will suppose that he is journeying from Seville to Madrid, and
that he has left at a considerable distance behind him the gloomy and
horrible passes of the Sierra Morena; his bosom, which for some time past
has been contracted with dreadful forebodings, is beginning to expand;
his blood, which has been congealed in his veins, is beginning to
circulate warmly and freely; he is fondly anticipating the still distant
posada and savoury omelet.  The sun is sinking rapidly behind the savage
and uncouth hills in his rear; he has reached the bottom of a small
valley, where runs a rivulet at which he allows his tired animal to
drink; he is about to ascend the side of the hill; his eyes are turned
upwards; suddenly he beholds strange and uncouth forms at the top of the
ascent—the sun descending slants its rays upon red cloaks, with here and
there a turbaned head, or long streaming hair.  The traveller hesitates,
but reflecting that he is no longer in the mountains, and that in the
open road there is no danger of banditti, he advances.  In a moment he is
in the midst of the Gypsy group, in a moment there is a general halt;
fiery eyes are turned upon him replete with an expression which only the
eyes of the Roma possess, then ensues a jabber in a language or jargon
which is strange to the ears of the traveller; at last an ugly urchin
springs from the crupper of a halting mule, and in a lisping accent
entreats charity in the name of the Virgin and the Majoro.  The
traveller, with a faltering hand, produces his purse, and is proceeding
to loosen its strings, but he accomplishes not his purpose, for, struck
violently by a huge knotted club in an unseen hand, he tumbles headlong
from his mule.  Next morning a naked corse, besmeared with brains and
blood, is found by an arriéro; and within a week a simple cross records
the event, according to the custom of Spain.

    ‘Below there in the dusky pass
       Was wrought a murder dread;
    The murdered fell upon the grass,
       Away the murderer fled.’

To many, such a scene, as above described, will appear purely imaginary,
or at least a mass of exaggeration, but many such anecdotes are related
by old Spanish writers of these people; they traversed the country in
gangs; they were what the Spanish law has styled Abigeos and Salteadores
de Camino, cattle-stealers and highwaymen; though, in the latter
character, they never rose to any considerable eminence.  True it is that
they would not hesitate to attack or even murder the unarmed and
defenceless traveller, when they felt assured of obtaining booty with
little or no risk to themselves; but they were not by constitution
adapted to rival those bold and daring banditti of whom so many terrible
anecdotes are related in Spain and Italy, and who have acquired their
renown by the dauntless daring which they have invariably displayed in
the pursuit of plunder.

              [Picture: Travellers attacked by the Gitános]

Besides trafficking in horses and mules, and now and then attacking and
plundering travellers upon the highway, the Gypsies of Spain appear, from
a very early period, to have plied occasionally the trade of the
blacksmith, and to have worked in iron, forming rude implements of
domestic and agricultural use, which they disposed of, either for
provisions or money, in the neighbourhood of those places where they had
taken up their temporary residence.  As their bands were composed of
numerous individuals, there is no improbability in assuming that to every
member was allotted that branch of labour in which he was most calculated
to excel.  The most important, and that which required the greatest share
of cunning and address, was undoubtedly that of the chalan or jockey, who
frequented the fairs with the beasts which he had obtained by various
means, but generally by theft.  Highway robbery, though occasionally
committed by all jointly or severally, was probably the peculiar
department of the boldest spirits of the gang; whilst wielding the hammer
and tongs was abandoned to those who, though possessed of athletic forms,
were perhaps, like Vulcan, lame, or from some particular cause, moral or
physical, unsuited for the other two very respectable avocations.  The
forge was generally placed in the heart of some mountain abounding in
wood; the gaunt smiths felled a tree, perhaps with the very axes which
their own sturdy hands had hammered at a former period; with the wood
thus procured they prepared the charcoal which their labour demanded.
Everything is in readiness; the bellows puff until the coal is excited to
a furious glow; the metal, hot, pliant, and ductile, is laid on the
anvil, round which stands the Cyclop group, their hammers upraised; down
they descend successively, one, two, three, the sparks are scattered on
every side.  The sparks—

    ‘More than a hundred lovely daughters I see produced at one time,
    fiery as roses: in one moment they expire gracefully circumvolving.’
    {54}

    The anvil rings beneath the thundering stroke, hour succeeds hour,
    and still endures the hard sullen toil.

One of the most remarkable features in the history of Gypsies is the
striking similarity of their pursuits in every region of the globe to
which they have penetrated; they are not merely alike in limb and in
feature, in the cast and expression of the eye, in the colour of the
hair, in their walk and gait, but everywhere they seem to exhibit the
same tendencies, and to hunt for their bread by the same means, as if
they were not of the human but rather of the animal species, and in lieu
of reason were endowed with a kind of instinct which assists them to a
very limited extent and no farther.

In no part of the world are they found engaged in the cultivation of the
earth, or in the service of a regular master; but in all lands they are
jockeys, or thieves, or cheats; and if ever they devote themselves to any
toil or trade, it is assuredly in every material point one and the same.
We have found them above, in the heart of a wild mountain, hammering
iron, and manufacturing from it instruments either for their own use or
that of the neighbouring towns and villages.  They may be seen employed
in a similar manner in the plains of Russia, or in the bosom of its
eternal forests; and whoever inspects the site where a horde of Gypsies
has encamped, in the grassy lanes beneath the hazel bushes of merry
England, is generally sure to find relics of tin and other metal,
avouching that they have there been exercising the arts of the tinker or
smith.  Perhaps nothing speaks more forcibly for the antiquity of this
sect or caste than the tenacity with which they have uniformly preserved
their peculiar customs since the period of their becoming generally
known; for, unless their habits had become a part of their nature, which
could only have been effected by a strict devotion to them through a long
succession of generations, it is not to be supposed that after their
arrival in civilised Europe they would have retained and cherished them
precisely in the same manner in the various countries where they found an
asylum.

Each band or family of the Spanish Gypsies had its Captain, or, as he was
generally designated, its Count.  Don Juan de Quiñones, who, in a small
volume published in 1632, has written some details respecting their way
of life, says: ‘They roam about, divided into families and troops, each
of which has its head or Count; and to fill this office they choose the
most valiant and courageous individual amongst them, and the one endowed
with the greatest strength.  He must at the same time be crafty and
sagacious, and adapted in every respect to govern them.  It is he who
settles their differences and disputes, even when they are residing in a
place where there is a regular justice.  He heads them at night when they
go out to plunder the flocks, or to rob travellers on the highway; and
whatever they steal or plunder they divide amongst them, always allowing
the captain a third part of the whole.’

These Counts, being elected for such qualities as promised to be useful
to their troop or family, were consequently liable to be deposed if at
any time their conduct was not calculated to afford satisfaction to their
subjects.  The office was not hereditary, and though it carried along
with it partial privileges, was both toilsome and dangerous.  Should the
plans for plunder, which it was the duty of the Count to form, miscarry
in the attempt to execute them; should individuals of the gang fall into
the hand of justice, and the Count be unable to devise a method to save
their lives or obtain their liberty, the blame was cast at the Count’s
door, and he was in considerable danger of being deprived of his insignia
of authority, which consisted not so much in ornaments or in dress, as in
hawks and hounds with which the Señor Count took the diversion of hunting
when he thought proper.  As the ground which he hunted over was not his
own, he incurred some danger of coming in contact with the lord of the
soil, attended, perhaps, by his armed followers.  There is a tradition
(rather apocryphal, it is true), that a Gitáno chief, once pursuing this
amusement, was encountered by a real Count, who is styled Count Pepe.  An
engagement ensued between the two parties, which ended in the Gypsies
being worsted, and their chief left dying on the field.  The slain chief
leaves a son, who, at the instigation of his mother, steals the infant
heir of his father’s enemy, who, reared up amongst the Gypsies, becomes a
chief, and, in process of time, hunting over the same ground, slays Count
Pepe in the very spot where the blood of the Gypsy had been poured out.
This tradition is alluded to in the following stanza:—

    ‘I have a gallant mare in stall;
       My mother gave that mare
    That I might seek Count Pepe’s hall
       And steal his son and heir.’

Martin Del Rio, in his _Tractatus de Magia_, speaks of the Gypsies and
their Counts to the following effect: ‘When, in the year 1584, I was
marching in Spain with the regiment, a multitude of these wretches were
infesting the fields.  It happened that the feast of Corpus Domini was
being celebrated, and they requested to be admitted into the town, that
they might dance in honour of the sacrifice, as was customary; they did
so, but about midday a great tumult arose owing to the many thefts which
the women committed, whereupon they fled out of the suburbs, and
assembled about St. Mark’s, the magnificent mansion and hospital of the
knights of St. James, where the ministers of justice attempting to seize
them were repulsed by force of arms; nevertheless, all of a sudden, and I
know not how, everything was hushed up.  At this time they had a Count, a
fellow who spoke the Castilian idiom with as much purity as if he had
been a native of Toledo; he was acquainted with all the ports of Spain,
and all the difficult and broken ground of the provinces.  He knew the
exact strength of every city, and who were the principal people in each,
and the exact amount of their property; there was nothing relating to the
state, however secret, that he was not acquainted with; nor did he make a
mystery of his knowledge, but publicly boasted of it.’

From the passage quoted above, we learn that the Gitános in the ancient
times were considered as foreigners who prowled about the country;
indeed, in many of the laws which at various times have been promulgated
against them, they are spoken of as Egyptians, and as such commanded to
leave Spain, and return to their native country; at one time they
undoubtedly were foreigners in Spain, foreigners by birth, foreigners by
language but at the time they are mentioned by the worthy Del Rio, they
were certainly not entitled to the appellation.  True it is that they
spoke a language amongst themselves, unintelligible to the rest of the
Spaniards, from whom they differed considerably in feature and
complexion, as they still do; but if being born in a country, and being
bred there, constitute a right to be considered a native of that country,
they had as much claim to the appellation of Spaniards as the worthy
author himself.  Del Rio mentions, as a remarkable circumstance, the fact
of the Gypsy Count speaking Castilian with as much purity as a native of
Toledo, whereas it is by no means improbable that the individual in
question was a native of that town; but the truth is, at the time we are
speaking of, they were generally believed to be not only foreigners, but
by means of sorcery to have acquired the power of speaking all languages
with equal facility; and Del Rio, who was a believer in magic, and wrote
one of the most curious and erudite treatises on the subject ever penned,
had perhaps adopted that idea, which possibly originated from their
speaking most of the languages and dialects of the Peninsula, which they
picked up in their wanderings.  That the Gypsy chief was so well
acquainted with every town of Spain, and the broken and difficult ground,
can cause but little surprise, when we reflect that the life which the
Gypsies led was one above all others calculated to afford them that
knowledge.  They were continually at variance with justice; they were
frequently obliged to seek shelter in the inmost recesses of the hills;
and when their thievish pursuits led them to the cities, they naturally
made themselves acquainted with the names of the principal individuals,
in hopes of plundering them.  Doubtless the chief possessed all this
species of knowledge in a superior degree, as it was his courage,
acuteness, and experience alone which placed him at the head of his
tribe, though Del Rio from this circumstance wishes to infer that the
Gitános were spies sent by foreign foes, and with some simplicity
inquires, ‘Quo ant cui rei hæc curiosa exploratio? nonne compescenda
vagamundorum hæc curiositas, etiam si solum peregrini et inculpatæ vitæ.’

With the Counts rested the management and direction of these remarkable
societies; it was they who determined their marches, counter-marches,
advances, and retreats; what was to be attempted or avoided; what
individuals were to be admitted into the fellowship and privileges of the
Gitános, or who were to be excluded from their society; they settled
disputes and sat in judgment over offences.  The greatest crimes,
according to the Gypsy code, were a quarrelsome disposition, and
revealing the secrets of the brotherhood.  By this code the members were
forbidden to eat, drink, or sleep in the house of a Busno, which
signifies any person who is not of the sect of the Gypsies, or to marry
out of that sect; they were likewise not to teach the language of Roma to
any but those who, by birth or inauguration, belonged to that sect; they
were enjoined to relieve their brethren in distress at any expense or
peril; they were to use a peculiar dress, which is frequently alluded to
in the Spanish laws, but the particulars of which are not stated; and
they were to cultivate the gift of speech to the utmost possible extent,
and never to lose anything which might be obtained by a loose and
deceiving tongue, to encourage which they had many excellent proverbs,
for example—

    ‘The poor fool who closes his mouth never winneth a dollar.’

    ‘The river which runneth with sound bears along with it stones and
    water.’



CHAPTER III


THE Gitános not unfrequently made their appearance in considerable
numbers, so as to be able to bid defiance to any force which could be
assembled against them on a sudden; whole districts thus became a prey to
them, and were plundered and devastated.

It is said that, in the year 1618, more than eight hundred of these
wretches scoured the country between Castile and Aragon, committing the
most enormous crimes.  The royal council despatched regular troops
against them, who experienced some difficulty in dispersing them.

But we now proceed to touch upon an event which forms an era in the
history of the Gitános of Spain, and which for wildness and singularity
throws all other events connected with them and their race, wherever
found, entirely into the shade.


THE BOOKSELLER OF LOGROÑO


About the middle of the sixteenth century, there resided one Francisco
Alvarez in the city of Logroño, the chief town of Rioja, a province which
borders on Aragon.  He was a man above the middle age, sober, reserved,
and in general absorbed in thought; he lived near the great church, and
obtained a livelihood by selling printed books and manuscripts in a small
shop.  He was a very learned man, and was continually reading in the
books which he was in the habit of selling, and some of these books were
in foreign tongues and characters, so foreign, indeed, that none but
himself and some of his friends, the canons, could understand them; he
was much visited by the clergy, who were his principal customers, and
took much pleasure in listening to his discourse.

He had been a considerable traveller in his youth, and had wandered
through all Spain, visiting the various provinces and the most remarkable
cities.  It was likewise said that he had visited Italy and Barbary.  He
was, however, invariably silent with respect to his travels, and whenever
the subject was mentioned to him, the gloom and melancholy increased
which usually clouded his features.

One day, in the commencement of autumn, he was visited by a priest with
whom he had long been intimate, and for whom he had always displayed a
greater respect and liking than for any other acquaintance.  The
ecclesiastic found him even more sad than usual, and there was a haggard
paleness upon his countenance which alarmed his visitor.  The good priest
made affectionate inquiries respecting the health of his friend, and
whether anything had of late occurred to give him uneasiness; adding at
the same time, that he had long suspected that some secret lay heavy upon
his mind, which he now conjured him to reveal, as life was uncertain, and
it was very possible that he might be quickly summoned from earth into
the presence of his Maker.

The bookseller continued for some time in gloomy meditation, till at last
he broke silence in these words:—‘It is true I have a secret which weighs
heavy upon my mind, and which I am still loth to reveal; but I have a
presentiment that my end is approaching, and that a heavy misfortune is
about to fall upon this city: I will therefore unburden myself, for it
were now a sin to remain silent.

‘I am, as you are aware, a native of this town, which I first left when I
went to acquire an education at Salamanca; I continued there until I
became a licentiate, when I quitted the university and strolled through
Spain, supporting myself in general by touching the guitar, according to
the practice of penniless students; my adventures were numerous, and I
frequently experienced great poverty.  Once, whilst making my way from
Toledo to Andalusia through the wild mountains, I fell in with and was
made captive by a band of the people called Gitános, or wandering
Egyptians; they in general lived amongst these wilds, and plundered or
murdered every person whom they met.  I should probably have been
assassinated by them, but my skill in music perhaps saved my life.  I
continued with them a considerable time, till at last they persuaded me
to become one of them, whereupon I was inaugurated into their society
with many strange and horrid ceremonies, and having thus become a Gitáno,
I went with them to plunder and assassinate upon the roads.

‘The Count or head man of these Gitános had an only daughter, about my
own age; she was very beautiful, but, at the same time, exceedingly
strong and robust; this Gitána was given to me as a wife or cadjee, and I
lived with her several years, and she bore me children.

‘My wife was an arrant Gitána, and in her all the wickedness of her race
seemed to be concentrated.  At last her father was killed in an affray
with the troopers of the Hermandad, whereupon my wife and myself
succeeded to the authority which he had formerly exercised in the tribe.
We had at first loved each other, but at last the Gitáno life, with its
accompanying wickedness, becoming hateful to my eyes, my wife, who was
not slow in perceiving my altered disposition, conceived for me the most
deadly hatred; apprehending that I meditated withdrawing myself from the
society, and perhaps betraying the secrets of the band, she formed a
conspiracy against me, and, at one time, being opposite the Moorish
coast, I was seized and bound by the other Gitános, conveyed across the
sea, and delivered as a slave into the hands of the Moors.

‘I continued for a long time in slavery in various parts of Morocco and
Fez, until I was at length redeemed from my state of bondage by a
missionary friar who paid my ransom.  With him I shortly after departed
for Italy, of which he was a native.  In that country I remained some
years, until a longing to revisit my native land seized me, when I
returned to Spain and established myself here, where I have since lived
by vending books, many of which I brought from the strange lands which I
visited.  I kept my history, however, a profound secret, being afraid of
exposing myself to the laws in force against the Gitános, to which I
should instantly become amenable, were it once known that I had at any
time been a member of this detestable sect.

‘My present wretchedness, of which you have demanded the cause, dates
from yesterday; I had been on a short journey to the Augustine convent,
which stands on the plain in the direction of Saragossa, carrying with me
an Arabian book, which a learned monk was desirous of seeing.  Night
overtook me ere I could return.  I speedily lost my way, and wandered
about until I came near a dilapidated edifice with which I was
acquainted; I was about to proceed in the direction of the town, when I
heard voices within the ruined walls; I listened, and recognised the
language of the abhorred Gitános; I was about to fly, when a word
arrested me.  It was Drao, which in their tongue signifies the horrid
poison with which this race are in the habit of destroying the cattle;
they now said that the men of Logroño should rue the Drao which they had
been casting.  I heard no more, but fled.  What increased my fear was,
that in the words spoken, I thought I recognised the peculiar jargon of
my own tribe; I repeat, that I believe some horrible misfortune is
overhanging this city, and that my own days are numbered.’

The priest, having conversed with him for some time upon particular
points of the history that he had related, took his leave, advising him
to compose his spirits, as he saw no reason why he should indulge in such
gloomy forebodings.

The very next day a sickness broke out in the town of Logroño.  It was
one of a peculiar kind; unlike most others, it did not arise by slow and
gradual degrees, but at once appeared in full violence, in the shape of a
terrific epidemic.  Dizziness in the head was the first symptom: then
convulsive retchings, followed by a dreadful struggle between life and
death, which generally terminated in favour of the grim destroyer.  The
bodies, after the spirit which animated them had taken flight, were
frightfully swollen, and exhibited a dark blue colour, checkered with
crimson spots.  Nothing was heard within the houses or the streets, but
groans of agony; no remedy was at hand, and the powers of medicine were
exhausted in vain upon this terrible pest; so that within a few days the
greatest part of the inhabitants of Logroño had perished.  The bookseller
had not been seen since the commencement of this frightful visitation.

Once, at the dead of night, a knock was heard at the door of the priest,
of whom we have already spoken; the priest himself staggered to the door,
and opened it,—he was the only one who remained alive in the house, and
was himself slowly recovering from the malady which had destroyed all the
other inmates; a wild spectral-looking figure presented itself to his
eye—it was his friend Alvarez.  Both went into the house, when the
bookseller, glancing gloomily on the wasted features of the priest,
exclaimed, ‘You too, I see, amongst others, have cause to rue the Drao
which the Gitános have cast.  Know,’ he continued, ‘that in order to
accomplish a detestable plan, the fountains of Logroño have been poisoned
by emissaries of the roving bands, who are now assembled in the
neighbourhood.  On the first appearance of the disorder, from which I
happily escaped by tasting the water of a private fountain, which I
possess in my own house, I instantly recognised the effects of the poison
of the Gitános, brought by their ancestors from the isles of the Indian
sea; and suspecting their intentions, I disguised myself as a Gitáno, and
went forth in the hope of being able to act as a spy upon their actions.
I have been successful, and am at present thoroughly acquainted with
their designs.  They intended, from the first, to sack the town, as soon
as it should have been emptied of its defenders.

‘Midday, to-morrow, is the hour in which they have determined to make the
attempt.  There is no time to be lost; let us, therefore, warn those of
our townsmen who still survive, in order that they may make preparations
for their defence.’

Whereupon the two friends proceeded to the chief magistrate, who had been
but slightly affected by the disorder; he heard the tale of the
bookseller with horror and astonishment, and instantly took the best
measures possible for frustrating the designs of the Gitános; all the men
capable of bearing arms in Logroño were assembled, and weapons of every
description put in their hands.  By the advice of the bookseller all the
gates of the town were shut, with the exception of the principal one; and
the little band of defenders, which barely amounted to sixty men, was
stationed in the great square, to which, he said, it was the intention of
the Gitános to penetrate in the first instance, and then, dividing
themselves into various parties, to sack the place.  The bookseller was,
by general desire, constituted leader of the guardians of the town.

It was considerably past noon; the sky was overcast, and tempest clouds,
fraught with lightning and thunder, were hanging black and horrid over
the town of Logroño.  The little troop, resting on their arms, stood
awaiting the arrival of their unnatural enemies; rage fired their minds
as they thought of the deaths of their fathers, their sons, and their
dearest relatives, who had perished, not by the hand of God, but, like
infected cattle, by the hellish arts of Egyptian sorcerers.  They longed
for their appearance, determined to wreak upon them a bloody revenge; not
a word was uttered, and profound silence reigned around, only interrupted
by the occasional muttering of the thunder-clouds.  Suddenly, Alvarez,
who had been intently listening, raised his hand with a significant
gesture; presently, a sound was heard—a rustling like the waving of
trees, or the rushing of distant water; it gradually increased, and
seemed to proceed from the narrow street which led from the principal
gate into the square.  All eyes were turned in that direction. . . .

That night there was repique or ringing of bells in the towers of
Logroño, and the few priests who had escaped from the pestilence sang
litanies to God and the Virgin for the salvation of the town from the
hands of the heathen.  The attempt of the Gitános had been most signally
defeated, and the great square and the street were strewn with their
corpses.  Oh! what frightful objects: there lay grim men more black than
mulattos, with fury and rage in their stiffened features; wild women in
extraordinary dresses, their hair, black and long as the tail of the
horse, spread all dishevelled upon the ground; and gaunt and naked
children grasping knives and daggers in their tiny hands.  Of the
patriotic troop not one appeared to have fallen; and when, after their
enemies had retreated with howlings of fiendish despair, they told their
numbers, only one man was missing, who was never seen again, and that man
was Alvarez.

In the midst of the combat, the tempest, which had for a long time been
gathering, burst over Logroño, in lightning, thunder, darkness, and
vehement hail.

A man of the town asserted that the last time he had seen Alvarez, the
latter was far in advance of his companions, defending himself
desperately against three powerful young heathen, who seemed to be acting
under the direction of a tall woman who stood nigh, covered with barbaric
ornaments, and wearing on her head a rude silver crown. {69}

Such is the tale of the Bookseller of Logroño, and such is the narrative
of the attempt of the Gitános to sack the town in the time of pestilence,
which is alluded to by many Spanish authors, but more particularly by the
learned Francisco de Cordova, in his _Didascalia_, one of the most
curious and instructive books within the circle of universal literature.



CHAPTER IV


THE Moors, after their subjugation, and previous to their expulsion from
Spain, generally resided apart, principally in the suburbs of the towns,
where they kept each other in countenance, being hated and despised by
the Spaniards, and persecuted on all occasions.  By this means they
preserved, to a certain extent, the Arabic language, though the use of it
was strictly forbidden, and encouraged each other in the secret exercise
of the rites of the Mohammedan religion, so that, until the moment of
their final expulsion, they continued Moors in almost every sense of the
word.  Such places were called Morerias, or quarters of the Moors.

In like manner there were Gitanerias, or quarters of the Gitános, in many
of the towns of Spain; and in more than one instance particular barrios
or districts are still known by this name, though the Gitános themselves
have long since disappeared.  Even in the town of Oviedo, in the heart of
the Asturias, a province never famous for Gitános, there is a place
called the Gitaneria, though no Gitáno has been known to reside in the
town within the memory of man, nor indeed been seen, save, perhaps, as a
chance visitor at a fair.

The exact period when the Gitános first formed these colonies within the
towns is not known; the laws, however, which commanded them to abandon
their wandering life under penalty of banishment and death, and to become
stationary in towns, may have induced them first to take such a step.  By
the first of these laws, which was made by Ferdinand and Isabella as far
back as the year 1499, they are commanded to seek out for themselves
masters.  This injunction they utterly disregarded.  Some of them for
fear of the law, or from the hope of bettering their condition, may have
settled down in the towns, cities, and villages for a time, but to expect
that a people, in whose bosoms was so deeply rooted the love of lawless
independence, would subject themselves to the yoke of servitude, from any
motive whatever, was going too far; as well might it have been expected,
according to the words of the great poet of Persia, _that they would have
washed their skins white_.

In these Gitanerias, therefore, many Gypsy families resided, but ever in
the Gypsy fashion, in filth and in misery, with little of the fear of
man, and nothing of the fear of God before their eyes.  Here the swarthy
children basked naked in the sun before the doors; here the women
prepared love draughts, or told the buena ventura; and here the men plied
the trade of the blacksmith, a forbidden occupation, or prepared for
sale, by disguising them, animals stolen by themselves or their
accomplices.  In these places were harboured the strange Gitános on their
arrival, and here were discussed in the Rommany language, which, like the
Arabic, was forbidden under severe penalties, plans of fraud and plunder,
which were perhaps intended to be carried into effect in a distant
province and a distant city.

The great body, however, of the Gypsy race in Spain continued independent
wanderers of the plains and the mountains, and indeed the denizens of the
Gitanerias were continually sallying forth, either for the purpose of
reuniting themselves with the wandering tribes, or of strolling about
from town to town, and from fair to fair.  Hence the continual complaints
in the Spanish laws against the Gitános who have left their places of
domicile, from doing which they were interdicted, even as they were
interdicted from speaking their language and following the occupations of
the blacksmith and horse-dealer, in which they still persist even at the
present day.

The Gitanerias at evening fall were frequently resorted to by individuals
widely differing in station from the inmates of these places—we allude to
the young and dissolute nobility and hidalgos of Spain.  This was
generally the time of mirth and festival, and the Gitános, male and
female, danced and sang in the Gypsy fashion beneath the smile of the
moon.  The Gypsy women and girls were the principal attractions to these
visitors; wild and singular as these females are in their appearance,
there can be no doubt, for the fact has been frequently proved, that they
are capable of exciting passion of the most ardent description,
particularly in the bosoms of those who are not of their race, which
passion of course becomes the more violent when the almost utter
impossibility of gratifying it is known.  No females in the world can be
more licentious in word and gesture, in dance and in song, than the
Gitánas; but there they stop: and so of old, if their titled visitors
presumed to seek for more, an unsheathed dagger or gleaming knife
speedily repulsed those who expected that the gem most dear amongst the
sect of the Roma was within the reach of a Busno.

Such visitors, however, were always encouraged to a certain point, and by
this and various other means the Gitános acquired connections which
frequently stood them in good stead in the hour of need.  What availed it
to the honest labourers of the neighbourhood, or the citizens of the
town, to make complaints to the corregidor concerning the thefts and
frauds committed by the Gitános, when perhaps the sons of that very
corregidor frequented the nightly dances at the Gitaneria, and were
deeply enamoured with some of the dark-eyed singing-girls?  What availed
making complaints, when perhaps a Gypsy sibyl, the mother of those very
girls, had free admission to the house of the corregidor at all times and
seasons, and spaed the good fortune to his daughters, promising them
counts and dukes, and Andalusian knights in marriage, or prepared
philtres for his lady by which she was always to reign supreme in the
affections of her husband?  And, above all, what availed it to the
plundered party to complain that his mule or horse had been stolen, when
the Gitáno robber, perhaps the husband of the sibyl and the father of the
black-eyed Gitanillas, was at that moment actually in treaty with my lord
the corregidor himself for supplying him with some splendid thick-maned,
long-tailed steed at a small price, to be obtained, as the reader may
well suppose, by an infraction of the laws?  The favour and protection
which the Gitános experienced from people of high rank is alluded to in
the Spanish laws, and can only be accounted for by the motives above
detailed.

The Gitanerias were soon considered as public nuisances, on which account
the Gitános were forbidden to live together in particular parts of the
town, to hold meetings, and even to intermarry with each other; yet it
does not appear that the Gitanerias were ever suppressed by the arm of
the law, as many still exist where these singular beings ‘marry and are
given in marriage,’ and meet together to discuss their affairs, which, in
their opinion, never flourish unless those of their fellow-creatures
suffer.  So much for the Gitanerias, or Gypsy colonies in the towns of
Spain.



CHAPTER V


‘LOS Gitános son muy malos!—the Gypsies are very bad people,’ said the
Spaniards of old times.  They are cheats; they are highwaymen; they
practise sorcery; and, lest the catalogue of their offences should be
incomplete, a formal charge of cannibalism was brought against them.
Cheats they have always been, and highwaymen, and if not sorcerers, they
have always done their best to merit that appellation, by arrogating to
themselves supernatural powers; but that they were addicted to
cannibalism is a matter not so easily proved.

Their principal accuser was Don Juan de Quiñones, who, in the work from
which we have already had occasion to quote, gives several anecdotes
illustrative of their cannibal propensities.  Most of these anecdotes,
however, are so highly absurd, that none but the very credulous could
ever have vouchsafed them the slightest credit.  This author is
particularly fond of speaking of a certain juez, or judge, called Don
Martin Fajardo, who seems to have been an arrant Gypsy-hunter, and was
probably a member of the ancient family of the Fajardos, which still
flourishes in Estremadura, and with individuals of which we are
acquainted.  So it came to pass that this personage was, in the year
1629, at Jaraicejo, in Estremadura, or, as it is written in the little
book in question, Zaraizejo, in the capacity of judge; a zealous one he
undoubtedly was.

A very strange place is this same Jaraicejo, a small ruinous town or
village, situated on a rising ground, with a very wild country all about
it.  The road from Badajoz to Madrid passes through it; and about two
leagues distant, in the direction of Madrid, is the famous mountain pass
of Mirabéte, from the top of which you enjoy a most picturesque view
across the Tagus, which flows below, as far as the huge mountains of
Plasencia, the tops of which are generally covered with snow.

So this Don Martin Fajardo, judge, being at Jaraicejo, laid his claw upon
four Gitános, and having nothing, as it appears, to accuse them of,
except being Gitános, put them to the torture, and made them accuse
themselves, which they did; for, on the first appeal which was made to
the rack, they confessed that they had murdered a female Gypsy in the
forest of Las Gamas, and had there eaten her. . . .

I am myself well acquainted with this same forest of Las Gamas, which
lies between Jaraicejo and Trujillo; it abounds with chestnut and cork
trees, and is a place very well suited either for the purpose of murder
or cannibalism.  It will be as well to observe that I visited it in
company with a band of Gitános, who bivouacked there, and cooked their
supper, which however did not consist of human flesh, but of a puchéra,
the ingredients of which were beef, bacon, garbanzos, and berdolaga, or
field-pease and purslain,—therefore I myself can bear testimony that
there is such a forest as Las Gamas, and that it is frequented
occasionally by Gypsies, by which two points are established by far the
most important to the history in question, or so at least it would be
thought in Spain, for being sure of the forest and the Gypsies, few would
be incredulous enough to doubt the facts of the murder and cannibalism. . . .

On being put to the rack a second time, the Gitános confessed that they
had likewise murdered and eaten a female pilgrim in the forest aforesaid;
and on being tortured yet again, that they had served in the same manner,
and in the same forest, a friar of the order of San Francisco, whereupon
they were released from the rack and executed.  This is one of the
anecdotes of Quiñones.

And it came to pass, moreover, that the said Fajardo, being in the town
of Montijo, was told by the alcalde, that a certain inhabitant of that
place had some time previous lost a mare; and wandering about the plains
in quest of her, he arrived at a place called Arroyo el Puerco, where
stood a ruined house, on entering which he found various Gitános employed
in preparing their dinner, which consisted of a quarter of a human body,
which was being roasted before a huge fire: the result, however, we are
not told; whether the Gypsies were angry at being disturbed in their
cookery, or whether the man of the mare departed unobserved.

Quiñones, in continuation, states in his book that he learned (he does
not say from whom, but probably from Fajardo) that there was a shepherd
of the city of Gaudix, who once lost his way in the wild sierra of Gadol:
night came on, and the wind blew cold: he wandered about until he
descried a light in the distance, towards which he bent his way,
supposing it to be a fire kindled by shepherds: on arriving at the spot,
however, he found a whole tribe of Gypsies, who were roasting the half of
a man, the other half being hung on a cork-tree: the Gypsies welcomed him
very heartily, and requested him to be seated at the fire and to sup with
them; but he presently heard them whisper to each other, ‘this is a fine
fat fellow,’ from which he suspected that they were meditating a design
upon his body: whereupon, feeling himself sleepy, he made as if he were
seeking a spot where to lie, and suddenly darted headlong down the
mountain-side, and escaped from their hands without breaking his neck.

These anecdotes scarcely deserve comment; first we have the statement of
Fajardo, the fool or knave who tortures wretches, and then puts them to
death for the crimes with which they have taxed themselves whilst
undergoing the agony of the rack, probably with the hope of obtaining a
moment’s respite; last comes the tale of the shepherd, who is invited by
Gypsies on a mountain at night to partake of a supper of human flesh, and
who runs away from them on hearing them talk of the fatness of his own
body, as if cannibal robbers detected in their orgies by a single
interloper would have afforded him a chance of escaping.  Such tales
cannot be true. {79}

Cases of cannibalism are said to have occurred in Hungary amongst the
Gypsies; indeed, the whole race, in that country, has been accused of
cannibalism, to which we have alluded whilst speaking of the Chingany: it
is very probable, however, that they were quite innocent of this odious
practice, and that the accusation had its origin in popular prejudice, or
in the fact of their foul feeding, and their seldom rejecting carrion or
offal of any description.

The Gazette of Frankfort for the year 1782, Nos. 157 and 207, states that
one hundred and fifty Gypsies were imprisoned charged with this practice;
and that the Empress Teresa sent commissioners to inquire into the facts
of the accusation, who discovered that they were true; whereupon the
empress published a law to oblige all the Gypsies in her dominions to
become stationary, which, however, had no effect.

Upon this matter we can state nothing on our own knowledge.

After the above anecdotes, it will perhaps not be amiss to devote a few
lines to the subject of Gypsy food and diet.  I believe that it has been
asserted that the Romas, in all parts of the world, are perfectly
indifferent as to what they eat, provided only that they can appease
their hunger; and that they have no objection to partake of the carcasses
of animals which have died a natural death, and have been left to putrefy
by the roadside; moreover, that they use for food all kinds of reptiles
and vermin which they can lay their hands upon.

In this there is a vast deal of exaggeration, but at the same time it
must be confessed that, in some instances, the habits of the Gypsies in
regard to food would seem, at the first glance, to favour the
supposition.  This observation chiefly holds good with respect to those
of the Gypsy race who still continue in a wandering state, and who,
doubtless, retain more of the ways and customs of their forefathers than
those who have adopted a stationary life.  There can be no doubt that the
wanderers amongst the Gypsy race are occasionally seen to feast upon
carcasses of cattle which have been abandoned to the birds of the air,
yet it would be wrong, from this fact, to conclude that the Gypsies were
habitual devourers of carrion.  Carrion it is true they may occasionally
devour, from want of better food, but many of these carcasses are not in
reality the carrion which they appear, but are the bodies of animals
which the Gypsies have themselves killed by casting drao, in hope that
the flesh may eventually be abandoned to them.  It is utterly useless to
write about the habits of the Gypsies, especially of the wandering
tribes, unless you have lived long and intimately with them; and
unhappily, up to the present time, all the books which have been
published concerning them have been written by those who have introduced
themselves into their society for a few hours, and from what they have
seen or heard consider themselves competent to give the world an idea of
the manners and customs of the mysterious Rommany: thus, because they
have been known to beg the carcass of a hog which they themselves have
poisoned, it has been asserted that they prefer carrion which has
perished of sickness to the meat of the shambles; and because they have
been seen to make a ragout of boror (_snails_), and to roast a
hotchiwitchu or hedgehog, it has been supposed that reptiles of every
description form a part of their cuisine.  It is high time to undeceive
the Gentiles on these points.  Know, then, O Gentile, whether thou be
from the land of the Gorgios {82a} or the Busné {82b}, that the very
Gypsies who consider a ragout of snails a delicious dish will not touch
an eel, because it bears resemblance to a _snake_; and that those who
will feast on a roasted hedgehog could be induced by no money to taste a
squirrel, a delicious and wholesome species of game, living on the purest
and most nutritious food which the fields and forests can supply.  I
myself, while living among the Roms of England, have been regarded almost
in the light of a cannibal for cooking the latter animal and preferring
it to hotchiwitchu barbecued, or ragout of boror.  ‘You are but half
Rommany, brother,’ they would say, ‘and you feed gorgiko-nes (_like a
Gentile_), even as you talk.  Tchachipen (_in truth_), if we did not know
you to be of the Mecralliskoe rat (_royal blood_) of Pharaoh, we should
be justified in driving you forth as a juggel-mush (_dog man_), one more
fitted to keep company with wild beasts and Gorgios than gentle
Rommanys.’

No person can read the present volume without perceiving, at a glance,
that the Romas are in most points an anomalous people; in their morality
there is much of anomaly, and certainly not less in their cuisine.

‘Los Gitános son muy malos; llevan niños hurtados a Berberia.  The
Gypsies are very bad people; they steal children and carry them to
Barbary, where they sell them to the Moors’—so said the Spaniards in old
times.  There can be little doubt that even before the fall of the
kingdom of Granada, which occurred in the year 1492, the Gitános had
intercourse with the Moors of Spain.  Andalusia, which has ever been the
province where the Gitáno race has most abounded since its arrival, was,
until the edict of Philip the Third, which banished more than a million
of Moriscos from Spain, principally peopled by Moors, who differed from
the Spaniards both in language and religion.  By living even as wanderers
amongst these people, the Gitános naturally became acquainted with their
tongue, and with many of their customs, which of course much facilitated
any connection which they might subsequently form with the Barbaresques.
Between the Moors of Barbary and the Spaniards a deadly and continued war
raged for centuries, both before and after the expulsion of the Moriscos
from Spain.  The Gitános, who cared probably as little for one nation as
the other, and who have no sympathy and affection beyond the pale of
their own sect, doubtless sided with either as their interest dictated,
officiating as spies for both parties and betraying both.

It is likely enough that they frequently passed over to Barbary with
stolen children of both sexes, whom they sold to the Moors, who traffic
in slaves, whether white or black, even at the present day; and perhaps
this kidnapping trade gave occasion to other relations.  As they were
perfectly acquainted, from their wandering life, with the shores of the
Spanish Mediterranean, they must have been of considerable assistance to
the Barbary pirates in their marauding trips to the Spanish coasts, both
as guides and advisers; and as it was a far easier matter, and afforded a
better prospect of gain, to plunder the Spaniards than the Moors, a
people almost as wild as themselves, they were, on that account, and that
only, more Moors than Christians, and ever willing to assist the former
in their forays on the latter.

Quiñones observes: ‘The Moors, with whom they hold correspondence, let
them go and come without any let or obstacle: an instance of this was
seen in the year 1627, when two galleys from Spain were carrying
assistance to Marmora, which was then besieged by the Moors.  These
galleys struck on a shoal, when the Moors seized all the people on board,
making captives of the Christians and setting at liberty all the Moors,
who were chained to the oar; as for the Gypsy galley-slaves whom they
found amongst these last, they did not make them slaves, but received
them as people friendly to them, and at their devotion; which matter was
public and notorious.’

Of the Moors and the Gitános we shall have occasion to say something in
the following chapter.



CHAPTER VI


THERE is no portion of the world so little known as Africa in general;
and perhaps of all Africa there is no corner with which Europeans are so
little acquainted as Barbary, which nevertheless is only separated from
the continent of Europe by a narrow strait of four leagues across.

China itself has, for upwards of a century, ceased to be a land of
mystery to the civilised portion of the world; the enterprising children
of Loyola having wandered about it in every direction making converts to
their doctrine and discipline, whilst the Russians possess better maps of
its vast regions than of their own country, and lately, owing to the
persevering labour and searching eye of my friend Hyacinth, Archimandrite
of Saint John Nefsky, are acquainted with the number of its military
force to a man, and also with the names and places of residence of its
civil servants.  Yet who possesses a map of Fez and Morocco, or would
venture to form a conjecture as to how many fiery horsemen Abderrahman,
the mulatto emperor, could lead to the field, were his sandy dominions
threatened by the Nazarene?  Yet Fez is scarcely two hundred leagues
distant from Madrid, whilst Maraks, the other great city of the Moors,
and which also has given its name to an empire, is scarcely farther
removed from Paris, the capital of civilisation: in a word, we scarcely
know anything of Barbary, the scanty information which we possess being
confined to a few towns on the sea-coast; the zeal of the Jesuit himself
being insufficient to induce him to confront the perils of the interior,
in the hopeless endeavour of making one single proselyte from amongst the
wildest fanatics of the creed of the Prophet Camel-driver.

Are wanderers of the Gypsy race to be found in Barbary?  This is a
question which I have frequently asked myself.  Several respectable
authors have, I believe, asserted the fact, amongst whom Adelung, who,
speaking of the Gypsies, says: ‘Four hundred years have passed away since
they departed from their native land.  During this time, they have spread
themselves through the whole of Western Asia, Europe, and Northern
Africa.’ {86}  But it is one thing to make an assertion, and another to
produce the grounds for making it.  I believe it would require a far
greater stock of information than has hitherto been possessed by any one
who has written on the subject of the Gypsies, to justify him in
asserting positively that after traversing the west of Europe, they
spread themselves over Northern Africa, though true it is that to those
who take a superficial view of the matter, nothing appears easier and
more natural than to come to such a conclusion.

Tarifa, they will say, the most western part of Spain, is opposite to
Tangier, in Africa, a narrow sea only running between, less wide than
many rivers.  Bands, therefore, of these wanderers, of course, on
reaching Tarifa, passed over into Africa, even as thousands crossed the
channel from France to England.  They have at all times shown themselves
extravagantly fond of a roving life.  What land is better adapted for
such a life than Africa and its wilds?  What land, therefore, more likely
to entice them?

All this is very plausible.  It was easy enough for the Gitános to pass
over to Tangier and Tetuan from the Spanish towns of Tarifa and
Algeziras.  In the last chapter I have stated my belief of the fact, and
that moreover they formed certain connections with the Moors of the
coast, to whom it is likely that they occasionally sold children stolen
in Spain; yet such connection would by no means have opened them a
passage into the interior of Barbary, which is inhabited by wild and
fierce people, in comparison with whom the Moors of the coast, bad as
they always have been, are gentle and civilised.

To penetrate into Africa, the Gitános would have been compelled to pass
through the tribes who speak the Shilha language, and who are the
descendants of the ancient Numidians.  These tribes are the most
untamable and warlike of mankind, and at the same time the most
suspicious, and those who entertain the greatest aversion to foreigners.
They are dreaded by the Moors themselves, and have always remained, to a
certain degree, independent of the emperors of Morocco.  They are the
most terrible of robbers and murderers, and entertain far more reluctance
to spill water than the blood of their fellow-creatures: the Bedouins,
also, of the Arabian race, are warlike, suspicious, and cruel; and would
not have failed instantly to attack bands of foreign wanderers, wherever
they found them, and in all probability would have exterminated them.
Now the Gitános, such as they arrived in Barbary, could not have defended
themselves against such enemies, had they even arrived in large
divisions, instead of bands of twenties and thirties, as is their custom
to travel.  They are not by nature nor by habit a warlike race, and would
have quailed before the Africans, who, unlike most other people, engage
in wars from what appears to be an innate love of the cruel and bloody
scenes attendant on war.

It may be said, that if the Gitános were able to make their way from the
north of India, from Multan, for example, the province which the learned
consider to be the original dwelling-place of the race, to such an
immense distance as the western part of Spain, passing necessarily
through many wild lands and tribes, why might they not have penetrated
into the heart of Barbary, and wherefore may not their descendants be
still there, following the same kind of life as the European Gypsies,
that is, wandering about from place to place, and maintaining themselves
by deceit and robbery?

But those who are acquainted but slightly with the condition of Barbary
are aware that it would be less difficult and dangerous for a company of
foreigners to proceed from Spain to Multan, than from the nearest seaport
in Barbary to Fez, an insignificant distance.  True it is, that, from
their intercourse with the Moors of Spain, the Gypsies might have become
acquainted with the Arabic language, and might even have adopted the
Moorish dress, ere entering Barbary; and, moreover, might have professed
belief in the religion of Mahomet; still they would have been known as
foreigners, and, on that account, would have been assuredly attacked by
the people of the interior, had they gone amongst them, who, according to
the usual practice, would either have massacred them or made them slaves;
and as slaves, they would have been separated.  The mulatto hue of their
countenances would probably have insured them the latter fate, as all
blacks and mulattos in the dominions of the Moor are properly slaves, and
can be bought and sold, unless by some means or other they become free,
in which event their colour is no obstacle to their elevation to the
highest employments and dignities, to their becoming pashas of cities and
provinces, or even to their ascending the throne.  Several emperors of
Morocco have been mulattos.

Above I have pointed out all the difficulties and dangers which must have
attended the path of the Gitános, had they passed from Spain into
Barbary, and attempted to spread themselves over that region, as over
Europe and many parts of Asia.  To these observations I have been led by
the assertion that they accomplished this, and no proof of the fact
having, as I am aware, ever been adduced; for who amongst those who have
made such a statement has seen or conversed with the Egyptians of
Barbary, or had sufficient intercourse with them to justify him in the
assertion that they are one and the same people as those of Europe, from
whom they differ about as much as the various tribes which inhabit
various European countries differ from each other?  At the same time, I
wish it to be distinctly understood that I am far from denying the
existence of Gypsies in various parts of the interior of Barbary.
Indeed, I almost believe the fact, though the information which I possess
is by no means of a description which would justify me in speaking with
full certainty; I having myself never come in contact with any sect or
caste of people amongst the Moors, who not only tallied in their pursuits
with the Rommany, but who likewise spoke amongst themselves a dialect of
the language of Roma; nor am I aware that any individual worthy of credit
has ever presumed to say that he has been more fortunate in these
respects.

Nevertheless, I repeat that I am inclined to believe that Gypsies
virtually exist in Barbary, and my reasons I shall presently adduce; but
I will here observe, that if these strange outcasts did indeed contrive
to penetrate into the heart of that savage and inhospitable region, they
could only have succeeded after having become well acquainted with the
Moorish language, and when, after a considerable sojourn on the coast,
they had raised for themselves a name, and were regarded with
superstitious fear; in a word, if they walked this land of peril
untouched and unscathed, it was not that they were considered as harmless
and inoffensive people, which, indeed, would not have protected them, and
which assuredly they were not; it was not that they were mistaken for
wandering Moors and Bedouins, from whom they differed in feature and
complexion, but because, wherever they went, they were dreaded as the
possessors of supernatural powers, and as mighty sorcerers.

There is in Barbary more than one sect of wanderers, which, to the
cursory observer, might easily appear, and perhaps have appeared, in the
right of legitimate Gypsies.  For example, there are the Beni Aros.  The
proper home of these people is in certain high mountains in the
neighbourhood of Tetuan, but they are to be found roving about the whole
kingdom of Fez.  Perhaps it would be impossible to find, in the whole of
Northern Africa, a more detestable caste.  They are beggars by
profession, but are exceedingly addicted to robbery and murder; they are
notorious drunkards, and are infamous, even in Barbary, for their
unnatural lusts.  They are, for the most part, well made and of comely
features.  I have occasionally spoken with them; they are Moors, and
speak no language but the Arabic.

Then there is the sect of Sidi Hamed au Muza, a very roving people,
companies of whom are generally to be found in all the principal towns of
Barbary.  The men are expert vaulters and tumblers, and perform wonderful
feats of address with swords and daggers, to the sound of wild music,
which the women, seated on the ground, produce from uncouth instruments;
by these means they obtain a livelihood.  Their dress is picturesque,
scarlet vest and white drawers.  In many respects they not a little
resemble the Gypsies; but they are not an evil people, and are looked
upon with much respect by the Moors, who call them Santons.  Their patron
saint is Hamed au Muza, and from him they derive their name.  Their
country is on the confines of the Sahara, or great desert, and their
language is the Shilhah, or a dialect thereof.  They speak but little
Arabic.  When I saw them for the first time, I believed them to be of the
Gypsy caste, but was soon undeceived.  A more wandering race does not
exist than the children of Sidi Hamed au Muza.  They have even visited
France, and exhibited their dexterity and agility at Paris and
Marseilles.

I will now say a few words concerning another sect which exists in
Barbary, and will here premise, that if those who compose it are not
Gypsies, such people are not to be found in North Africa, and the
assertion, hitherto believed, that they abound there, is devoid of
foundation.  I allude to certain men and women, generally termed by the
Moors ‘Those of the Dar-bushi-fal,’ which word is equivalent to
prophesying or fortune-telling.  They are great wanderers, but have also
their fixed dwellings or villages, and such a place is called ‘Char
Seharra,’ or witch-hamlet.  Their manner of life, in every respect,
resembles that of the Gypsies of other countries; they are wanderers
during the greatest part of the year, and subsist principally by
pilfering and fortune-telling.  They deal much in mules and donkeys, and
it is believed, in Barbary, that they can change the colour of any animal
by means of sorcery, and so disguise him as to sell him to his very
proprietor, without fear of his being recognised.  This latter trait is
quite characteristic of the Gypsy race, by whom the same thing is
practised in most parts of the world.  But the Moors assert, that the
children of the Dar-bushi-fal can not only change the colour of a horse
or a mule, but likewise of a human being, in one night, transforming a
white into a black, after which they sell him for a slave; on which
account the superstitious Moors regard them with the utmost dread, and in
general prefer passing the night in the open fields to sleeping in their
hamlets.  They are said to possess a particular language, which is
neither Shilhah nor Arabic, and which none but themselves understand;
from all which circumstances I am led to believe, that the children of
the Dar-bushi-fal are legitimate Gypsies, descendants of those who passed
over to Barbary from Spain.  Nevertheless, as it has never been my
fortune to meet or to converse with any of this caste, though they are
tolerably numerous in Barbary, I am far from asserting that they are of
Gypsy race.  More enterprising individuals than myself may, perhaps,
establish the fact.  Any particular language or jargon which they speak
amongst themselves will be the best criterion.  The word which they
employ for ‘water’ would decide the point; for the Dar-bushi-fal are not
Gypsies, if, in their peculiar speech, they designate that blessed
element and article most necessary to human existence by aught else than
the Sanscrit term ‘Pani,’ a word brought by the race from sunny Ind, and
esteemed so holy that they have never even presumed to modify it.

The following is an account of the Dar-bushi-fal, given me by a Jew of
Fez, who had travelled much in Barbary, and which I insert almost
literally as I heard it from his mouth.  Various other individuals,
Moors, have spoken of them in much the same manner.

‘In one of my journeys I passed the night in a place called Mulai-Jacub
Munsur.

‘Not far from this place is a Char Seharra, or witch-hamlet, where dwell
those of the Dar-bushi-fal.  These are very evil people, and powerful
enchanters; for it is well known that if any traveller stop to sleep in
their Char, they will with their sorceries, if he be a white man, turn
him as black as a coal, and will afterwards sell him as a negro.  Horses
and mules they serve in the same manner, for if they are black, they will
turn them red, or any other colour which best may please them; and
although the owners demand justice of the authorities, the sorcerers
always come off best.  They have a language which they use among
themselves, very different from all other languages, so much so that it
is impossible to understand them.  They are very swarthy, quite as much
so as mulattos, and their faces are exceedingly lean.  As for their legs,
they are like reeds; and when they run, the devil himself cannot overtake
them.  They tell Dar-bushi-fal with flour; they fill a plate, and then
they are able to tell you anything you ask them.  They likewise tell it
with a shoe; they put it in their mouth, and then they will recall to
your memory every action of your life.  They likewise tell Dar-bushi-fal
with oil; and indeed are, in every respect, most powerful sorcerers.

‘Two women, once on a time, came to Fez, bringing with them an
exceedingly white donkey, which they placed in the middle of the square
called Faz el Bali; they then killed it, and cut it into upwards of
thirty pieces.  Upon the ground there was much of the donkey’s filth and
dung; some of this they took in their hands, when it straight assumed the
appearance of fresh dates.  There were some people who were greedy enough
to put these dates into their mouths, and then they found that it was
dung.  These women deceived me amongst the rest with a date; when I put
it into my mouth, lo and behold it was the donkey’s dung.  After they had
collected much money from the spectators, one of them took a needle, and
ran it into the tail of the donkey, crying “Arrhe li dar” (Get home),
whereupon the donkey instantly rose up, and set off running, kicking
every now and then most furiously; and it was remarked, that not one
single trace of blood remained upon the ground, just as if they had done
nothing to it.  Both these women were of the very same Char Seharra which
I have already mentioned.  They likewise took paper, and cut it into the
shape of a peseta, and a dollar, and a half-dollar, until they had made
many pesetas and dollars, and then they put them into an earthen pan over
a fire, and when they took them out, they appeared just fresh from the
stamp, and with such money these people buy all they want.

‘There was a friend of my grandfather, who came frequently to our house,
who was in the habit of making this money.  One day he took me with him
to buy white silk; and when they had shown him some, he took the silk in
his hand, and pressed it to his mouth, and then I saw that the silk,
which was before white, had become green, even as grass.  The master of
the shop said, “Pay me for my silk.”  “Of what colour was your silk?” he
demanded.  “White,” said the man; whereupon, turning round, he cried,
“Good people, behold, the white silk is green”; and so he got a pound of
silk for nothing; and he also was of the Char Seharra.

‘They are very evil people indeed, and the emperor himself is afraid of
them.  The poor wretch who falls into their hands has cause to rue; they
always go badly dressed, and exhibit every appearance of misery, though
they are far from being miserable.  Such is the life they lead.’

There is, of course, some exaggeration in the above account of the
Dar-bushi-fal; yet there is little reason to doubt that there is a
foundation of truth in all the facts stated.  The belief that they are
enabled, by sorcery, to change a white into a black man had its origin in
the great skill which they possess in altering the appearance of a horse
or a mule, and giving it another colour.  Their changing white into green
silk is a very simple trick, and is accomplished by dexterously
substituting one thing for another.  Had the man of the Dar-bushi-fal
been searched, the white silk would have been found upon him.  The
Gypsies, wherever they are found, are fond of this species of fraud.  In
Germany, for example, they go to the wine-shop with two pitchers exactly
similar, one in their hand empty, and the other beneath their cloaks
filled with water; when the empty pitcher is filled with wine they
pretend to be dissatisfied with the quality, or to have no money, but
contrive to substitute the pitcher of water in its stead, which the
wine-seller generally snatches up in anger, and pours the contents back,
as he thinks, into the butt—but it is not wine but water which he pours.
With respect to the donkey, which _appeared_ to be cut in pieces, but
which afterwards, being pricked in the tail, got up and ran home, I have
little to say, but that I have myself seen almost as strange things
without believing in sorcery.

As for the dates of dung, and the paper money, they are mere feats of
legerdemain.

I repeat, that if legitimate Gypsies really exist in Barbary, they are
the men and women of the Dar-bushi-fal.



CHAPTER VII


CHIROMANCY, or the divination of the hand, is, according to the orthodox
theory, the determining from certain lines upon the hand the quality of
the physical and intellectual powers of the possessor.

The whole science is based upon the five principal lines in the hand, and
the triangle which they form in the palm.  These lines, which have all
their particular and appropriate names, and the principal of which is
called ‘the line of life,’ are, if we may believe those who have written
on the subject, connected with the heart, with the genitals, with the
brain, with the liver or stomach, and the head.  Torreblanca, {98} in his
curious and learned book on magic, observes: ‘In judging these lines you
must pay attention to their substance, colour, and continuance, together
with the disposition of the correspondent member; for, if the line be
well and clearly described, and is of a vivid colour, without being
intermitted or _puncturis infecta_, it denotes the good complexion and
virtue of its member, according to Aristotle.

    ‘So that if the line of the heart be found sufficiently long and
    reasonably deep, and not crossed by other accidental lines, it is an
    infallible sign of the health of the heart and the great virtue of
    the heart, and the abundance of spirits and good blood in the heart,
    and accordingly denotes boldness and liberal genius for every work.’

In like manner, by means of the hepatal line, it is easy to form an
accurate judgment as to the state of a person’s liver, and of his powers
of digestion, and so on with respect to all the other organs of the body.

After having laid down all the rules of chiromancy with the utmost
possible clearness, the sage Torreblanca exclaims: ‘And with these
terminate the canons of true and catholic chiromancy; for as for the
other species by which people pretend to divine concerning the affairs of
life, either past or to come, dignities, fortunes, children, events,
chances, dangers, etc., such chiromancy is not only reprobated by
theologians, but by men of law and physic, as a foolish, false, vain,
scandalous, futile, superstitious practice, smelling much of divinery and
a pact with the devil.’

Then, after mentioning a number of erudite and enlightened men of the
three learned professions, who have written against such absurd
superstitions, amongst whom he cites Martin Del Rio, he falls foul of the
Gypsy wives in this manner: ‘A practice turned to profit by the wives of
that rabble of abandoned miscreants whom the Italians call Cingari, the
Latins Egyptians, and we Gitános, who, notwithstanding that they are sent
by the Turks into Spain for the purpose of acting as spies upon the
Christian religion, pretend that they are wandering over the world in
fulfilment of a penance enjoined upon them, part of which penance seems
to be the living by fraud and imposition.’  And shortly afterwards he
remarks: ‘Nor do they derive any authority for such a practice from those
words in Exodus, {100a} “et quasi signum in manu tua,” as that passage
does not treat of chiromancy, but of the festival of unleavened bread;
the observance of which, in order that it might be memorable to the
Hebrews, the sacred historian said should be as a sign upon the hand; a
metaphor derived from those who, when they wish to remember anything, tie
a thread round their finger, or put a ring upon it; and still less I ween
does that chapter of Job {100b} speak in their favour, where is written,
“Qui in manu hominis signat, ut norint omnes opera sua,” because the
divine power is meant thereby which is preached to those here below: for
the hand is intended for power and magnitude, Exod. chap. xiv., {100c} or
stands for free will, which is placed in a man’s hand, that is, in his
power.  Wisdom, chap. xxxvi. “In manibus abscondit lucem,” {100d} etc.
etc. etc.

No, no, good Torreblanca, we know perfectly well that the witch-wives of
Multan, who for the last four hundred years have been running about Spain
and other countries, telling fortunes by the hand, and deriving good
profit from the same, are not countenanced in such a practice by the
sacred volume; we yield as little credit to their chiromancy as we do to
that which you call the true and catholic, and believe that the lines of
the hand have as little connection with the events of life as with the
liver and stomach, notwithstanding Aristotle, who you forget was a
heathen, and knew as little and cared as little for the Scriptures as the
Gitános, whether male or female, who little reck what sanction any of
their practices may receive from authority, whether divine or human, if
the pursuit enable them to provide sufficient for the existence, however
poor and miserable, of their families and themselves.

A very singular kind of women are the Gitánas, far more remarkable in
most points than their husbands, in whose pursuits of low cheating and
petty robbery there is little capable of exciting much interest; but if
there be one being in the world who, more than another, deserves the
title of sorceress (and where do you find a word of greater romance and
more thrilling interest?), it is the Gypsy female in the prime and vigour
of her age and ripeness of her understanding—the Gypsy wife, the mother
of two or three children.  Mention to me a point of devilry with which
that woman is not acquainted.  She can at any time, when it suits her,
show herself as expert a jockey as her husband, and he appears to
advantage in no other character, and is only eloquent when descanting on
the merits of some particular animal; but she can do much more: she is a
prophetess, though she believes not in prophecy; she is a physician,
though she will not taste her own philtres; she is a procuress, though
she is not to be procured; she is a singer of obscene songs, though she
will suffer no obscene hand to touch her; and though no one is more
tenacious of the little she possesses, she is a cutpurse and a
shop-lifter whenever opportunity shall offer.

In all times, since we have known anything of these women, they have been
addicted to and famous for fortune-telling; indeed, it is their only
ostensible means of livelihood, though they have various others which
they pursue more secretly.  Where and how they first learned the practice
we know not; they may have brought it with them from the East, or they
may have adopted it, which is less likely, after their arrival in Europe.
Chiromancy, from the most remote periods, has been practised in all
countries.  Neither do we know, whether in this practice they were ever
guided by fixed and certain rules; the probability, however, is, that
they were not, and that they never followed it but as a means of fraud
and robbery; certainly, amongst all the professors of this art that ever
existed, no people are more adapted by nature to turn it to account than
these females, call them by whatever name you will, Gitánas, Zigánas,
Gypsies, or Bohemians; their forms, their features, the expression of
their countenances are ever wild and Sibylline, frequently beautiful, but
never vulgar.  Observe, for example, the Gitána, even her of Seville.
She is standing before the portal of a large house in one of the narrow
Moorish streets of the capital of Andalusia; through the grated iron
door, she looks in upon the court; it is paved with small marble slabs of
almost snowy whiteness; in the middle is a fountain distilling limpid
water, and all around there is a profusion of macetas, in which flowering
plants and aromatic shrubs are growing, and at each corner there is an
orange tree, and the perfume of the azahár may be distinguished; you hear
the melody of birds from a small aviary beneath the piazza which
surrounds the court, which is surmounted by a toldo or linen awning, for
it is the commencement of May, and the glorious sun of Andalusia is
burning with a splendour too intense for his rays to be borne with
impunity.  It is a fairy scene such as nowhere meets the eye but at
Seville, or perhaps at Fez and Shiraz, in the palaces of the Sultan and
the Shah.  The Gypsy looks through the iron-grated door, and beholds,
seated near the fountain, a richly dressed dame and two lovely delicate
maidens; they are busied at their morning’s occupation, intertwining with
their sharp needles the gold and silk on the tambour; several female
attendants are seated behind.  The Gypsy pulls the bell, when is heard
the soft cry of ‘Quien es’; the door, unlocked by means of a string,
recedes upon its hinges, when in walks the Gitána, the witch-wife of
Multan, with a look such as the tiger-cat casts when she stealeth from
her jungle into the plain.

Yes, well may you exclaim ‘Ave Maria purissima,’ ye dames and maidens of
Seville, as she advances towards you; she is not of yourselves, she is
not of your blood, she or her fathers have walked to your climate from a
distance of three thousand leagues.  She has come from the far East, like
the three enchanted kings, to Cologne; but, unlike them, she and her race
have come with hate and not with love.  She comes to flatter, and to
deceive, and to rob, for she is a lying prophetess, and a she-Thug; she
will greet you with blessings which will make your hearts rejoice, but
your hearts’ blood would freeze, could you hear the curses which to
herself she murmurs against you; for she says, that in her children’s
veins flows the dark blood of the ‘husbands,’ whilst in those of yours
flows the pale tide of the ‘savages,’ and therefore she would gladly set
her foot on all your corses first poisoned by her hands.  For all her
love—and she can love—is for the Romas; and all her hate—and who can hate
like her?—is for the Busnees; for she says that the world would be a fair
world if there were no Busnees, and if the Romamiks could heat their
kettles undisturbed at the foot of the olive-trees; and therefore she
would kill them all if she could and if she dared.  She never seeks the
houses of the Busnees but for the purpose of prey; for the wild animals
of the sierra do not more abhor the sight of man than she abhors the
countenances of the Busnees.  She now comes to prey upon you and to scoff
at you.  Will you believe her words?  Fools! do you think that the being
before ye has any sympathy for the like of you?

She is of the middle stature, neither strongly nor slightly built, and
yet her every movement denotes agility and vigour.  As she stands erect
before you, she appears like a falcon about to soar, and you are almost
tempted to believe that the power of volition is hers; and were you to
stretch forth your hand to seize her, she would spring above the
house-tops like a bird.  Her face is oval, and her features are regular
but somewhat hard and coarse, for she was born amongst rocks in a
thicket, and she has been wind-beaten and sun-scorched for many a year,
even like her parents before her; there is many a speck upon her cheek,
and perhaps a scar, but no dimples of love; and her brow is wrinkled
over, though she is yet young.  Her complexion is more than dark, for it
is almost that of a mulatto; and her hair, which hangs in long locks on
either side of her face, is black as coal, and coarse as the tail of a
horse, from which it seems to have been gathered.

There is no female eye in Seville can support the glance of hers,—so
fierce and penetrating, and yet so artful and sly, is the expression of
their dark orbs; her mouth is fine and almost delicate, and there is not
a queen on the proudest throne between Madrid and Moscow who might not
and would not envy the white and even rows of teeth which adorn it, which
seem not of pearl but of the purest elephant’s bone of Multan.  She comes
not alone; a swarthy two-year-old bantling clasps her neck with one arm,
its naked body half extant from the coarse blanket which, drawn round her
shoulders, is secured at her bosom by a skewer.  Though tender of age, it
looks wicked and sly, like a veritable imp of Roma.  Huge rings of false
gold dangle from wide slits in the lobes of her ears; her nether garments
are rags, and her feet are cased in hempen sandals.  Such is the
wandering Gitána, such is the witch-wife of Multan, who has come to spae
the fortune of the Sevillian countess and her daughters.

‘O may the blessing of Egypt light upon your head, you high-born lady!
(May an evil end overtake your body, daughter of a Busnee harlot!) and
may the same blessing await the two fair roses of the Nile here flowering
by your side!  (May evil Moors seize them and carry them across the
water!)  O listen to the words of the poor woman who is come from a
distant country; she is of a wise people, though it has pleased the God
of the sky to punish them for their sins by sending them to wander
through the world.  They denied shelter to the Majari, whom you call the
queen of heaven, and to the Son of God, when they flew to the land of
Egypt before the wrath of the wicked king; it is said that they even
refused them a draught of the sweet waters of the great river when the
blessed two were athirst.  O you will say that it was a heavy crime; and
truly so it was, and heavily has the Lord punished the Egyptians.  He has
sent us a-wandering, poor as you see, with scarcely a blanket to cover
us.  O blessed lady, (Accursed be thy dead, as many as thou mayest have,)
we have no money to buy us bread; we have only our wisdom with which to
support ourselves and our poor hungry babes; when God took away their
silks from the Egyptians, and their gold from the Egyptians, he left them
their wisdom as a resource that they might not starve.  O who can read
the stars like the Egyptians? and who can read the lines of the palm like
the Egyptians?  The poor woman read in the stars that there was a rich
ventura for all of this goodly house, so she followed the bidding of the
stars and came to declare it.  O blessed lady, (I defile thy dead corse,)
your husband is at Granada, fighting with king Ferdinand against the wild
Corahai!  (May an evil ball smite him and split his head!)  Within three
months he shall return with twenty captive Moors, round the neck of each
a chain of gold.  (God grant that when he enter the house a beam may fall
upon him and crush him!)  And within nine months after his return God
shall bless you with a fair chabo, the pledge for which you have sighed
so long.  (Accursed be the salt placed in its mouth in the church when it
is baptized!)  Your palm, blessed lady, your palm, and the palms of all I
see here, that I may tell you all the rich ventura which is hanging over
this good house; (May evil lightning fall upon it and consume it!) but
first let me sing you a song of Egypt, that the spirit of the Chowahanee
may descend more plenteously upon the poor woman.’

Her demeanour now instantly undergoes a change.  Hitherto she has been
pouring forth a lying and wild harangue without much flurry or agitation
of manner.  Her speech, it is true, has been rapid, but her voice has
never been raised to a very high key; but she now stamps on the ground,
and placing her hands on her hips, she moves quickly to the right and
left, advancing and retreating in a sidelong direction.  Her glances
become more fierce and fiery, and her coarse hair stands erect on her
head, stiff as the prickles of the hedgehog; and now she commences
clapping her hands, and uttering words of an unknown tongue, to a strange
and uncouth tune.  The tawny bantling seems inspired with the same fiend,
and, foaming at the mouth, utters wild sounds, in imitation of its dam.
Still more rapid become the sidelong movements of the Gitána.  Movement!
she springs, she bounds, and at every bound she is a yard above the
ground.  She no longer bears the child in her bosom; she plucks it from
thence, and fiercely brandishes it aloft, till at last, with a yell she
tosses it high into the air, like a ball, and then, with neck and head
thrown back, receives it, as it falls, on her hands and breast,
extracting a cry from the terrified beholders.  Is it possible she can be
singing?  Yes, in the wildest style of her people; and here is a snatch
of the song, in the language of Roma, which she occasionally screams—

    ‘En los sastos de yesque plai me diquélo,
    Doscusañas de sonacai terélo,—
    Corojai diquélo abillar,
    Y ne asislo chapescar, chapescar.’

    ‘On the top of a mountain I stand,
    With a crown of red gold in my hand,—
    Wild Moors came trooping o’er the lea,
    O how from their fury shall I flee, flee, flee?
    O how from their fury shall I flee?’

Such was the Gitána in the days of Ferdinand and Isabella, and much the
same is she now in the days of Isabel and Christina.

                        [Picture: A Song of Egypt]

Of the Gitánas and their practices I shall have much to say on a future
occasion, when speaking of those of the present time, with many of whom I
have had no little intercourse.  All the ancient Spanish authors who
mention these women speak of them in unmeasured terms of abhorrence,
employing against them every abusive word contained in the language in
which they wrote.  Amongst other vile names, they have been called
harlots, though perhaps no females on earth are, and have ever been, more
chaste in their own persons, though at all times willing to encourage
licentiousness in others, from a hope of gain.  It is one thing to be a
procuress, and another to be a harlot, though the former has assuredly no
reason to complain if she be confounded with the latter.  ‘The Gitánas,’
says Doctor Sancho de Moncada, in his discourse concerning the Gypsies,
which I shall presently lay before the reader, ‘are public harlots,
common, as it is said, to all the Gitános, and with dances, demeanour,
and filthy songs, are the cause of infinite harm to the souls of the
vassals of your Majesty (Philip III.), as it is notorious what infinite
harm they have caused in many honourable houses.  The married women whom
they have separated from their husbands, and the maidens whom they have
perverted; and finally, in the best of these Gitánas, any one may
recognise all the signs of a harlot given by the wise king: “they are
gadders about, whisperers, always unquiet in the places and corners.”’
{109a}

The author of Alonso, {109b} he who of all the old Spanish writers has
written most graphically concerning the Gitános, and I believe with most
correctness, puts the following account of the Gitánas, and their
fortune-telling practices, into the entertaining mouth of his hero:—

    ‘O how many times did these Gitánas carry me along with them, for
    being, after all, women, even they have their fears, and were glad of
    me as a protector: and so they went through the neighbouring
    villages, and entered the houses a-begging, giving to understand
    thereby their poverty and necessity, and then they would call aside
    the girls, in order to tell them the buena ventura, and the young
    fellows the good luck which they were to enjoy, never failing in the
    first place to ask for a cuarto or real, in order to make the sign of
    the cross; and with these flattering words, they got as much as they
    could, although, it is true, not much in money, as their harvest in
    that article was generally slight; but enough in bacon to afford
    subsistence to their husbands and bantlings.  I looked on and laughed
    at the simplicity of those foolish people, who, especially such as
    wished to be married, were as satisfied and content with what the
    Gitána told them, as if an apostle had spoken it.’

The above description of Gitánas telling fortunes amongst the villages of
Navarre, and which was written by a Spanish author at the commencement of
the seventeenth century, is, in every respect, applicable, as the reader
will not fail to have observed, to the English Gypsy women of the present
day, engaged in the same occupation in the rural districts of England,
where the first demand of the sibyls is invariably a sixpence, in order
that they may cross their hands with silver, and where the same promises
are made, and as easily believed; all which, if it serves to confirm the
opinion that in all times the practices and habits of the Egyptian race
have been, in almost all respects, the same as at the present day, brings
us also to the following mortifying conclusion,—that mental illumination,
amongst the generality of mankind, has made no progress at all; as we
observe in the nineteenth century the same gross credulity manifested as
in the seventeenth, and the inhabitants of one of the countries most
celebrated for the arts of civilisation, imposed upon by the same stale
tricks which served to deceive two centuries before in Spain, a country
whose name has long and justly been considered as synonymous with every
species of ignorance and barbarism.

The same author, whilst speaking of these female Thugs, relates an
anecdote very characteristic of them; a device at which they are adepts,
which they love to employ, and which is generally attended with success.
It is the more deserving attention, as an instance of the same
description, attended with very similar circumstances, occurred within
the sphere of my own knowledge in my own country.  This species of deceit
is styled, in the peculiar language of the Rommany, _hokkano baro_, or
the ‘great trick’; it being considered by the women as their most
fruitful source of plunder.  The story, as related by Alonso, runs as
follows:—

    ‘A band of Gitános being in the neighbourhood of a village, one of
    the women went to a house where lived a lady alone.  This lady was a
    young widow, rich, without children, and of very handsome person.
    After having saluted her, the Gypsy repeated the harangue which she
    had already studied, to the effect that there was neither bachelor,
    widower, nor married man, nobleman, nor gallant, endowed with a
    thousand graces, who was not dying for love of her; and then
    continued: “Lady, I have contracted a great affection for you, and
    since I know that you well merit the riches you possess,
    notwithstanding you live heedless of your good fortune, I wish to
    reveal to you a secret.  You must know, then, that in your cellar you
    have a vast treasure; nevertheless you will experience great
    difficulty in arriving at it, as it is enchanted, and to remove it is
    impossible, save alone on the eve of Saint John.  We are now at the
    eighteenth of June, and it wants five days to the twenty-third;
    therefore, in the meanwhile, collect some jewels of gold and silver,
    and likewise some money, whatever you please, provided it be not
    copper, and provide six tapers, of white or yellow wax, for at the
    time appointed I will come with a sister of mine, when we will
    extract from the cellar such abundance of riches, that you will be
    able to live in a style which will excite the envy of the whole
    country.”  The ignorant widow, hearing these words, put implicit
    confidence in the deceiver, and imagined that she already possessed
    all the gold of Arabia and the silver of Potosi.

    ‘The appointed day arrived, and not more punctual were the two
    Gypsies, than anxiously expected by the lady.  Being asked whether
    she had prepared all as she had been desired, she replied in the
    affirmative, when the Gypsy thus addressed her: “You must know, good
    lady, that gold calls forth gold, and silver calls forth silver; let
    us light these tapers, and descend to the cellar before it grows
    late, in order that we may have time for our conjurations.”
    Thereupon the trio, the widow and the two Gypsies, went down, and
    having lighted the tapers and placed them in candlesticks in the
    shape of a circle, they deposited in the midst a silver tankard, with
    some pieces of eight, and some corals tipped with gold, and other
    jewels of small value.  They then told the lady, that it was
    necessary for them all to return to the staircase by which they had
    descended to the cellar, and there they uplifted their hands, and
    remained for a short time as if engaged in prayer.

    ‘The two Gypsies then bade the widow wait for them, and descended
    again, when they commenced holding a conversation, speaking and
    answering alternately, and altering their voices in such a manner
    that five or six people appeared to be in the cellar.  “Blessed
    little Saint John,” said one, “will it be possible to remove the
    treasure which you keep hidden here?”  “O yes, and with a little more
    trouble it will be yours,” replied the Gypsy sister, altering her
    voice to a thin treble, as if it proceeded from a child four or five
    years old.  In the meantime, the lady remained astonished, expecting
    the promised riches, and the two Gitánas presently coming to her,
    said, “Come up, lady, for our desire is upon the point of being
    gratified.  Bring down the best petticoat, gown, and mantle which you
    have in your chest, that I may dress myself, and appear in other
    guise to what I do now.”  The simple woman, not perceiving the trick
    they were playing upon her, ascended with them to the doorway, and
    leaving them alone, went to fetch the things which they demanded.
    Thereupon the two Gypsies, seeing themselves at liberty, and having
    already pocketed the gold and silver which had been deposited for
    their conjuration, opened the street door, and escaped with all the
    speed they could.

    ‘The beguiled widow returned laden with the clothes, and not finding
    those whom she had left waiting, descended into the cellar, when,
    perceiving the trick which they had played her, and the robbery which
    they had committed in stealing her jewels, she began to cry and weep,
    but all in vain.  All the neighbours hastened to her, and to them she
    related her misfortune, which served more to raise laughter and jeers
    at her expense than to excite pity; though the subtlety of the two
    she-thieves was universally praised.  These latter, as soon as they
    had got out of the door, knew well how to conceal themselves, for
    having once reached the mountain it was not possible to find them.
    So much for their divination, their foreseeing things to come, their
    power over the secrets of nature, and their knowledge of the stars.’

The Gitánas in the olden time appear to have not unfrequently been
subjected to punishment as sorceresses, and with great justice, as the
abominable trade which they drove in philtres and decoctions certainly
entitled them to that appellation, and to the pains and penalties
reserved for those who practised what was termed ‘witchcraft.’

Amongst the crimes laid to their charge, connected with the exercise of
occult powers, there is one, however, of which they were certainly not
capable, as it is a purely imaginary one, though if they were punished
for it, they had assuredly little right to complain, as the chastisement
they met was fully merited by practices equally malefic as the crime
imputed to them, provided that were possible.  _It was casting the evil
eye_.



CHAPTER VIII


IN the Gitáno language, casting the evil eye is called _Querelar nasula_,
which simply means making sick, and which, according to the common
superstition, is accomplished by casting an evil look at people,
especially children, who, from the tenderness of their constitution, are
supposed to be more easily blighted than those of a more mature age.
After receiving the evil glance, they fall sick, and die in a few hours.

The Spaniards have very little to say respecting the evil eye, though the
belief in it is very prevalent, especially in Andalusia amongst the lower
orders.  A stag’s horn is considered a good safeguard, and on that
account a small horn, tipped with silver, is frequently attached to the
children’s necks by means of a cord braided from the hair of a black
mare’s tail.  Should the evil glance be cast, it is imagined that the
horn receives it, and instantly snaps asunder.  Such horns may be
purchased in some of the silversmiths’ shops at Seville.

The Gitános have nothing more to say on this species of sorcery than the
Spaniards, which can cause but little surprise, when we consider that
they have no traditions, and can give no rational account of themselves,
nor of the country from which they come.

Some of the women, however, pretend to have the power of casting it,
though if questioned how they accomplish it, they can return no answer.
They will likewise sell remedies for the evil eye, which need not be
particularised, as they consist of any drugs which they happen to possess
or be acquainted with; the prescribers being perfectly reckless as to the
effect produced on the patient, provided they receive their paltry
reward.

I have known these beings offer to cure the glanders in a horse (an
incurable disorder) with the very same powders which they offer as a
specific for the evil eye.

Leaving, therefore, for a time, the Spaniards and Gitános, whose ideas on
this subject are very scanty and indistinct, let us turn to other nations
amongst whom this superstition exists, and endeavour to ascertain on what
it is founded, and in what it consists.  The fear of the evil eye is
common amongst all oriental people, whether Turks, Arabs, or Hindoos.  It
is dangerous in some parts to survey a person with a fixed glance, as he
instantly concludes that you are casting the evil eye upon him.
Children, particularly, are afraid of the evil eye from the superstitious
fear inculcated in their minds in the nursery.  Parents in the East feel
no delight when strangers look at their children in admiration of their
loveliness; they consider that you merely look at them in order to blight
them.  The attendants on the children of the great are enjoined never to
permit strangers to fix their glance upon them.  I was once in the shop
of an Armenian at Constantinople, waiting to see a procession which was
expected to pass by; there was a Janisary there, holding by the hand a
little boy about six years of age, the son of some Bey; they also had
come to see the procession.  I was struck with the remarkable loveliness
of the child, and fixed my glance upon it: presently it became uneasy,
and turning to the Janisary, said: ‘There are evil eyes upon me; drive
them away.’  ‘Take your eyes off the child, Frank,’ said the Janisary,
who had a long white beard, and wore a hanjar.  ‘What harm can they do to
the child, efendijem?’ said I.  ‘Are they not the eyes of a Frank?’
replied the Janisary; ‘but were they the eyes of Omar, they should not
rest on the child.’  ‘Omar,’ said I, ‘and why not Ali?  Don’t you love
Ali?’  ‘What matters it to you whom I love,’ said the Turk in a rage;
‘look at the child again with your chesm fanar and I will smite you.’
‘Bad as my eyes are,’ said I, ‘they can see that you do not love Ali.’
‘Ya Ali, ya Mahoma, Alahhu!’ {117} said the Turk, drawing his hanjar.
All Franks, by which are meant Christians, are considered as casters of
the evil eye.  I was lately at Janina in Albania, where a friend of mine,
a Greek gentleman, is established as physician.  ‘I have been visiting
the child of a Jew that is sick,’ said he to me one day; ‘scarcely,
however, had I left the house, when the father came running after me.
“You have cast the evil eye on my child,” said he; “come back and spit in
its face.”  And I assure you,’ continued my friend, ‘that notwithstanding
all I could say, he compelled me to go back and spit in the face of his
child.’

Perhaps there is no nation in the world amongst whom this belief is so
firmly rooted and from so ancient a period as the Jews; it being a
subject treated of, and in the gravest manner, by the old Rabbinical
writers themselves, which induces the conclusion that the superstition of
the evil eye is of an antiquity almost as remote as the origin of the
Hebrew race; (and can we go farther back?) as the oral traditions of the
Jews, contained and commented upon in what is called the Talmud, are
certainly not less ancient than the inspired writings of the Old
Testament, and have unhappily been at all times regarded by them with
equal if not greater reverence.

The evil eye is mentioned in Scripture, but of course not in the false
and superstitious sense; evil in the eye, which occurs in Prov. xxiii. v.
6, merely denoting niggardness and illiberality.  The Hebrew words are
_ain ra_, and stand in contradistinction to _ain toub_, or the benignant
in eye, which denotes an inclination to bounty and liberality.

It is imagined that this blight is most easily inflicted when a person is
enjoying himself with little or no care for the future, when he is
reclining in the sun before the door, or when he is full of health and
spirits: it may be cast designedly or not; and the same effect may be
produced by an inadvertent word.  It is deemed partially unlucky to say
to any person, ‘How well you look’; as the probabilities are that such an
individual will receive a sudden blight and pine away.  We have however
no occasion to go to Hindoos, Turks, and Jews for this idea; we shall
find it nearer home, or something akin to it.  Is there one of ourselves,
however enlightened and free from prejudice, who would not shrink, even
in the midst of his highest glee and enjoyment, from saying, ‘How happy I
am!’ or if the words inadvertently escaped him, would he not consider
them as ominous of approaching evil, and would he not endeavour to
qualify them by saying, ‘God preserve me!’—Ay, God preserve you, brother!
Who knows what the morrow will bring forth?

The common remedy for the evil eye, in the East, is the spittle of the
person who has cast it, provided it can be obtained.  ‘Spit in the face
of my child,’ said the Jew of Janina to the Greek physician: recourse is
had to the same means in Barbary, where the superstition is universal.
In that country both Jews and Moors carry papers about with them scrawled
with hieroglyphics, which are prepared by their respective priests, and
sold.  These papers, placed in a little bag, and hung about the person,
are deemed infallible preservatives from the ‘evil eye.’

Let us now see what the _Talmud_ itself says about the evil eye.  The
passage which we are about to quote is curious, not so much from the
subject which it treats of, as in affording an example of the manner in
which the Rabbins are wont to interpret the Scripture, and the strange
and wonderful deductions which they draw from words and phrases
apparently of the greatest simplicity.

    ‘Whosoever when about to enter into a city is afraid of evil eyes,
    let him grasp the thumb of his right hand with his left hand, and his
    left-hand thumb with his right hand, and let him cry in this manner:
    “I am such a one, son of such a one, sprung from the seed of Joseph”;
    and the evil eyes shall not prevail against him.  _Joseph is a
    fruitful bough_, _a fruitful bough by a well_, {120a} etc.  Now you
    should not say _by a well_, but _over an eye_. {120b}  Rabbi Joseph
    Bar Henina makes the following deduction: _and they shall become_
    (the seed of Joseph) _like fishes in multitude in the midst of the
    earth_. {120c}  Now the fishes of the sea are covered by the waters,
    and the evil eye has no power over them; and so over those of the
    seed of Joseph the evil eye has no power.’

I have been thus diffuse upon the evil eye, because of late years it has
been a common practice of writers to speak of it without apparently
possessing any farther knowledge of the subject than what may be gathered
from the words themselves.

Like most other superstitions, it is, perhaps, founded on a physical
reality.

I have observed, that only in hot countries, where the sun and moon are
particularly dazzling, the belief in the evil eye is prevalent.  If we
turn to Scripture, the wonderful book which is capable of resolving every
mystery, I believe that we shall presently come to the solution of the
evil eye.  ‘The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.’
Ps. cxxi. v. 6.

Those who wish to avoid the evil eye, instead of trusting in charms,
scrawls, and Rabbinical antidotes, let them never loiter in the sunshine
before the king of day has nearly reached his bourn in the west; for the
sun has an evil eye, and his glance produces brain fevers; and let them
not sleep uncovered beneath the smile of the moon, for her glance is
poisonous, and produces insupportable itching in the eye, and not
unfrequently blindness.

The northern nations have a superstition which bears some resemblance to
the evil eye, when allowance is made for circumstances.  They have no
brilliant sun and moon to addle the brain and poison the eye, but the
grey north has its marshes, and fenny ground, and fetid mists, which
produce agues, low fevers, and moping madness, and are as fatal to cattle
as to man.  Such disorders are attributed to elves and fairies.  This
superstition still lingers in some parts of England under the name of
elf-shot, whilst, throughout the north, it is called elle-skiod, and
elle-vild (fairy wild).  It is particularly prevalent amongst shepherds
and cow-herds, the people who, from their manner of life, are most
exposed to the effects of the elf-shot.  Those who wish to know more of
this superstition are referred to Thiele’s—_Danske Folkesagn_, and to the
notes of the _Koempe-viser_, or popular Danish Ballads.



CHAPTER IX


WHEN the six hundred thousand men, {122} and the mixed multitude of women
and children, went forth from the land of Egypt, the God whom they
worshipped, the only true God, went before them by day in a pillar of
cloud, to lead them the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give
them light; this God who rescued them from slavery, who guided them
through the wilderness, who was their captain in battle, and who cast
down before them the strong walls which encompassed the towns of their
enemies, this God they still remember, after the lapse of more than three
thousand years, and still worship with adoration the most unbounded.  If
there be one event in the eventful history of the Hebrews which awakens
in their minds deeper feelings of gratitude than another, it is the
exodus; and that wonderful manifestation of olden mercy still serves them
as an assurance that the Lord will yet one day redeem and gather together
his scattered and oppressed people.  ‘Art thou not the God who brought us
out of the land of bondage?’ they exclaim in the days of their heaviest
trouble and affliction.  He who redeemed Israel from the hand of Pharaoh
is yet capable of restoring the kingdom and sceptre to Israel.

If the Rommany trusted in any God at the period of _their_ exodus, they
must speedily have forgotten him.  Coming from Ind, as they most
assuredly did, it was impossible for them to have known the true, and
they must have been followers (if they followed any) either of Buddh, or
Brahmah, those tremendous phantoms which have led, and are likely still
to lead, the souls of hundreds of millions to destruction; yet they are
now ignorant of such names, nor does it appear that such were ever
current amongst them subsequent to their arrival in Europe, if indeed
they ever were.  They brought with them no Indian idols, as far as we are
able to judge at the present time, nor indeed Indian rites or
observances, for no traces of such are to be discovered amongst them.

All, therefore, which relates to their original religion is shrouded in
mystery, and is likely so to remain.  They may have been idolaters, or
atheists, or what they now are, totally neglectful of worship of any
kind; and though not exactly prepared to deny the existence of a Supreme
Being, as regardless of him as if he existed not, and never mentioning
his name, save in oaths and blasphemy, or in moments of pain or sudden
surprise, as they have heard other people do, but always without any
fixed belief, trust, or hope.

There are certainly some points of resemblance between the children of
Roma and those of Israel.  Both have had an exodus, both are exiles and
dispersed amongst the Gentiles, by whom they are hated and despised, and
whom they hate and despise, under the names of Busnees and Goyim; both,
though speaking the language of the Gentiles, possess a peculiar tongue,
which the latter do not understand, and both possess a peculiar cast of
countenance, by which they may, without difficulty, be distinguished from
all other nations; but with these points the similarity terminates.  The
Israelites have a peculiar religion, to which they are fanatically
attached; the Romas have none, as they invariably adopt, though only in
appearance, that of the people with whom they chance to sojourn; the
Israelites possess the most authentic history of any people in the world,
and are acquainted with and delight to recapitulate all that has befallen
their race, from ages the most remote; the Romas have no history, they do
not even know the name of their original country; and the only tradition
which they possess, that of their Egyptian origin, is a false one,
whether invented by themselves or others; the Israelites are of all
people the most wealthy, the Romas the most poor—poor as a Gypsy being
proverbial amongst some nations, though both are equally greedy of gain;
and finally, though both are noted for peculiar craft and cunning, no
people are more ignorant than the Romas, whilst the Jews have always been
a learned people, being in possession of the oldest literature in the
world, and certainly the most important and interesting.

Sad and weary must have been the path of the mixed rabble of the Romas,
when they left India’s sunny land and wended their way to the West, in
comparison with the glorious exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, whose
God went before them in cloud and in fire, working miracles and
astonishing the hearts of their foes.

Even supposing that they worshipped Buddh or Brahmah, neither of these
false deities could have accomplished for them what God effected for his
chosen people, although it is true that the idea that a Supreme Being was
watching over them, in return for the reverence paid to his image, might
have cheered them ‘midst storm and lightning, ‘midst mountains and
wildernesses, ‘midst hunger and drought; for it is assuredly better to
trust even in an idol, in a tree, or a stone, than to be entirely
godless; and the most superstitious hind of the Himalayan hills, who
trusts in the Grand Foutsa in the hour of peril and danger, is more wise
than the most enlightened atheist, who cherishes no consoling delusion to
relieve his mind, oppressed by the terrible ideas of reality.

But it is evident that they arrived at the confines of Europe without any
certain or rooted faith.  Knowing, as we do, with what tenacity they
retain their primitive habits and customs, their sect being, in all
points, the same as it was four hundred years ago, it appears impossible
that they should have forgotten their peculiar god, if in any peculiar
god they trusted.

Though cloudy ideas of the Indian deities might be occasionally floating
in their minds, these ideas, doubtless, quickly passed away when they
ceased to behold the pagodas and temples of Indian worship, and were no
longer in contact with the enthusiastic adorers of the idols of the East;
they passed away even as the dim and cloudy ideas which they subsequently
adopted of the Eternal and His Son, Mary and the saints, would pass away
when they ceased to be nourished by the sight of churches and crosses;
for should it please the Almighty to reconduct the Romas to Indian
climes, who can doubt that within half a century they would entirely
forget all connected with the religion of the West!  Any poor shreds of
that faith which they bore with them they would drop by degrees as they
would relinquish their European garments when they became old, and as
they relinquished their Asiatic ones to adopt those of Europe; no
particular dress makes a part of the things essential to the sect of
Roma, so likewise no particular god and no particular religion.

Where these people first assumed the name of Egyptians, or where that
title was first bestowed upon them, it is difficult to determine;
perhaps, however, in the eastern parts of Europe, where it should seem
the grand body of this nation of wanderers made a halt for a considerable
time, and where they are still to be found in greater numbers than in any
other part.  One thing is certain, that when they first entered Germany,
which they speedily overran, they appeared under the character of
Egyptians, doing penance for the sin of having refused hospitality to the
Virgin and her Son, and, of course, as believers in the Christian faith,
notwithstanding that they subsisted by the perpetration of every kind of
robbery and imposition; Aventinus (_Annales Boiorum_, 826) speaking of
them says: ‘Adeo tamen vana superstitio hominum mentes, velut lethargus
invasit, ut eos violari nefas putet, atque grassari, furari, imponere
passim sinant.’

This singular story of banishment from Egypt, and Wandering through the
world for a period of seven years, for inhospitality displayed to the
Virgin, and which I find much difficulty in attributing to the invention
of people so ignorant as the Romas, tallies strangely with the fate
foretold to the ancient Egyptians in certain chapters of Ezekiel, so much
so, indeed, that it seems to be derived from that source.  The Lord is
angry with Egypt because its inhabitants have been a staff of reed to the
house of Israel, and thus he threatens them by the mouth of his prophet.

    ‘I will make the land of Egypt desolate in the midst of the countries
    that are desolate, and her cities among the cities that are laid
    waste shall be desolate forty years: and I will scatter the Egyptians
    among the nations, and will disperse them through the countries.’
    Ezek., chap. xxix. v. 12.  ‘Yet thus saith the Lord God; at the end
    of forty years will I gather the Egyptians from the people whither
    they were scattered.’ v. 13.

    ‘Thus saith the Lord; I will make the multitude of Egypt to cease, by
    the hand of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon.’  Chap. xxx. v. 10.

    ‘And I will scatter the Egyptians among the nations, and disperse
    them among the countries; and they shall know that I am the Lord.’
    Chap. xxx. v. 26.

The reader will at once observe that the apocryphal tale which the Romas
brought into Germany, concerning their origin and wanderings, agrees in
every material point with the sacred prophecy.  The ancient Egyptians
were to be driven from their country and dispersed amongst the nations,
for a period of forty years, for having been the cause of Israel’s
backsliding, and for not having known the Lord,—the modern
pseudo-Egyptians are to be dispersed among the nations for seven years,
for having denied hospitality to the Virgin and her child.  The prophecy
seems only to have been remodelled for the purpose of suiting the taste
of the time; as no legend possessed much interest in which the Virgin did
not figure, she and her child are here introduced instead of the
Israelites, and the Lord of Heaven offended with the Egyptians; and this
legend appears to have been very well received in Germany, for a time at
least, for, as Aventinus observes, it was esteemed a crime of the first
magnitude to offer any violence to the Egyptian pilgrims, who were
permitted to rob on the highway, to commit larceny, and to practise every
species of imposition with impunity.

The tale, however, of the Romas could hardly have been invented by
themselves, as they were, and still are, utterly unacquainted with the
Scripture; it probably originated amongst the priests and learned men of
the east of Europe, who, startled by the sudden apparition of bands of
people foreign in appearance and language, skilled in divination and the
occult arts, endeavoured to find in Scripture a clue to such a
phenomenon; the result of which was, that the Romas of Hindustan were
suddenly transformed into Egyptian penitents, a title which they have
ever since borne in various parts of Europe.  There are no means of
ascertaining whether they themselves believed from the first in this
story; they most probably took it on credit, more especially as they
could give no account of themselves, there being every reason for
supposing that from time immemorial they had existed in the East as a
thievish wandering sect, as they at present do in Europe, without history
or traditions, and unable to look back for a period of eighty years.  The
tale moreover answered their purpose, as beneath the garb of penitence
they could rob and cheat with impunity, for a time at least.  One thing
is certain, that in whatever manner the tale of their Egyptian descent
originated, many branches of the sect place implicit confidence in it at
the present day, more especially those of England and Spain.

Even at the present time there are writers who contend that the Romas are
the descendants of the ancient Egyptians, who were scattered amongst the
nations by the Assyrians.  This belief they principally found upon
particular parts of the prophecy from which we have already quoted, and
there is no lack of plausibility in the arguments which they deduce
therefrom.  The Egyptians, say they, were to fall upon the open fields,
they were not to be brought together nor gathered; they were to be
dispersed through the countries, their idols were to be destroyed, and
their images were to cease out of Noph!  In what people in the world do
these denunciations appear to be verified save the Gypsies?—a people who
pass their lives in the open fields, who are not gathered together, who
are dispersed through the countries, who have no idols, no images, nor
any fixed or certain religion.

In Spain, the want of religion amongst the Gitános was speedily observed,
and became quite as notorious as their want of honesty; they have been
styled atheists, heathen idolaters, and Moors.  In the little book of
Quiñones’, we find the subject noticed in the following manner:—

    ‘They do not understand what kind of thing the church is, and never
    enter it but for the purpose of committing sacrilege.  They do not
    know the prayers; for I examined them myself, males and females, and
    they knew them not, or if any, very imperfectly.  They never partake
    of the Holy Sacraments, and though they marry relations they procure
    no dispensations. {130a}  No one knows whether they are baptized.
    One of the five whom I caused to be hung a few days ago was baptized
    in the prison, being at the time upwards of thirty years of age.  Don
    Martin Fajardo says that two Gitános and a Gitána, whom he hanged in
    the village of Torre Perojil, were baptized at the foot of the
    gallows, and declared themselves Moors.

    ‘They invariably look out, when they marry, if we can call theirs
    marrying, for the woman most dexterous in pilfering and deceiving,
    caring nothing whether she is akin to them or married already, {130b}
    for it is only necessary to keep her company and to call her wife.
    Sometimes they purchase them from their husbands, or receive them as
    pledges: so says, at least, Doctor Salazar de Mendoza.

    ‘Friar Melchior of Guelama states that he heard asserted of two
    Gitános what was never yet heard of any barbarous nation, namely,
    that they exchanged their wives, and that as one was more comely
    looking than the other, he who took the handsome woman gave a certain
    sum of money to him who took the ugly one.  The licentiate Alonzo
    Duran has certified to me, that in the year 1623–4, one Simon
    Ramirez, captain of a band of Gitános, repudiated Teresa because she
    was old, and married one called Melchora, who was young and handsome,
    and that on the day when the repudiation took place and the bridal
    was celebrated he was journeying along the road, and perceived a
    company feasting and revelling beneath some trees in a plain within
    the jurisdiction of the village of Deleitosa, and that on demanding
    the cause he was told that it was on account of Simon Ramirez
    marrying one Gitána and casting off another; and that the repudiated
    woman told him, with an agony of tears, that he abandoned her because
    she was old, and married another because she was young.  Certainly
    Gitános and Gitánas confessed before Don Martin Fajardo that they did
    not really marry, but that in their banquets and festivals they
    selected the woman whom they liked, and that it was lawful for them
    to have as many as three mistresses, and on that account they begat
    so many children.  They never keep fasts nor any ecclesiastical
    command.  They always eat meat, Friday and Lent not excepted; the
    morning when I seized those whom I afterwards executed, which was in
    Lent, they had three lambs which they intended to eat for their
    dinner that day.—Quiñones, page 13.

Although what is stated in the above extracts, respecting the marriages
of the Gitános and their licentious manner of living, is, for the most
part, incorrect, there is no reason to conclude the same with respect to
their want of religion in the olden time, and their slight regard for the
forms and observances of the church, as their behaviour at the present
day serves to confirm what is said on those points.  From the whole, we
may form a tolerably correct idea of the opinions of the time respecting
the Gitános in matters of morality and religion.  A very natural question
now seems to present itself, namely, what steps did the government of
Spain, civil and ecclesiastical, which has so often trumpeted its zeal in
the cause of what it calls the Christian religion, which has so often
been the scourge of the Jew, of the Mahometan, and of the professors of
the reformed faith; what steps did it take towards converting, punishing,
and rooting out from Spain, a sect of demi-atheists, who, besides being
cheats and robbers, displayed the most marked indifference for the forms
of the Catholic religion, and presumed to eat flesh every day, and to
intermarry with their relations, without paying the vicegerent of Christ
here on earth for permission so to do?

The Gitános have at all times, since their first appearance in Spain,
been notorious for their contempt of religious observances; yet there is
no proof that they were subjected to persecution on that account.  The
men have been punished as robbers and murderers, with the gallows and the
galleys; the women, as thieves and sorceresses, with imprisonment,
flagellation, and sometimes death; but as a rabble, living without fear
of God, and, by so doing, affording an evil example to the nation at
large, few people gave themselves much trouble about them, though they
may have occasionally been designated as such in a royal edict, intended
to check their robberies, or by some priest from the pulpit, from whose
stable they had perhaps contrived to extract the mule which previously
had the honour of ambling beneath his portly person.

The Inquisition, which burnt so many Jews and Moors, and conscientious
Christians, at Seville and Madrid, and in other parts of Spain, seems to
have exhibited the greatest clemency and forbearance to the Gitános.
Indeed, we cannot find one instance of its having interfered with them.
The charge of restraining the excesses of the Gitános was abandoned
entirely to the secular authorities, and more particularly to the Santa
Hermandad, a kind of police instituted for the purpose of clearing the
roads of robbers.  Whilst I resided at Cordova, I was acquainted with an
aged ecclesiastic, who was priest of a village called Puente, at about
two leagues’ distance from the city.  He was detained in Cordova on
account of his political opinions, though he was otherwise at liberty.
We lived together at the same house; and he frequently visited me in my
apartment.

This person, who was upwards of eighty years of age, had formerly been
inquisitor at Cordova.  One night, whilst we were seated together, three
Gitános entered to pay me a visit, and on observing the old ecclesiastic,
exhibited every mark of dissatisfaction, and speaking in their own idiom,
called him a _balichow_, and abused priests in general in most unmeasured
terms.  On their departing, I inquired of the old man whether he, who
having been an inquisitor, was doubtless versed in the annals of the holy
office, could inform me whether the Inquisition had ever taken any active
measures for the suppression and punishment of the sect of the Gitános:
whereupon he replied, ‘that he was not aware of one case of a Gitáno
having been tried or punished by the Inquisition’; adding these
remarkable words: ‘The Inquisition always looked upon them with too much
contempt to give itself the slightest trouble concerning them; for as no
danger either to the state, or the church of Rome, could proceed from the
Gitános, it was a matter of perfect indifference to the holy office
whether they lived without religion or not.  The holy office has always
reserved its anger for people very different; the Gitános having at all
times been _Gente barata y despreciable_.

Indeed, most of the persecutions which have arisen in Spain against Jews,
Moors, and Protestants, sprang from motives with which fanaticism and
bigotry, of which it is true the Spaniards have their full share, had
very little connection.  Religion was assumed as a mask to conceal the
vilest and most detestable motives which ever yet led to the commission
of crying injustice; the Jews were doomed to persecution and destruction
on two accounts,—their great riches, and their high superiority over the
Spaniards in learning and intellect.  Avarice has always been the
dominant passion in Spanish minds, their rage for money being only to be
compared to the wild hunger of wolves for horse-flesh in the time of
winter: next to avarice, envy of superior talent and accomplishment is
the prevailing passion.  These two detestable feelings united, proved the
ruin of the Jews in Spain, who were, for a long time, an eyesore, both to
the clergy and laity, for their great riches and learning.  Much the same
causes insured the expulsion of the Moriscos, who were abhorred for their
superior industry, which the Spaniards would not imitate; whilst the
reformation was kept down by the gaunt arm of the Inquisition, lest the
property of the church should pass into other and more deserving hands.
The faggot piles in the squares of Seville and Madrid, which consumed the
bodies of the Hebrew, the Morisco, and the Protestant, were lighted by
avarice and envy, and those same piles would likewise have consumed the
mulatto carcass of the Gitáno, had he been learned and wealthy enough to
become obnoxious to the two master passions of the Spaniards.

Of all the Spanish writers who have written concerning the Gitános, the
one who appears to have been most scandalised at the want of religion
observable amongst them, and their contempt for things sacred, was a
certain Doctor Sancho De Moncada.

This worthy, whom we have already had occasion to mention, was Professor
of Theology at the University of Toledo, and shortly after the expulsion
of the Moriscos had been brought about by the intrigues of the monks and
robbers who thronged the court of Philip the Third, he endeavoured to get
up a cry against the Gitános similar to that with which for the last
half-century Spain had resounded against the unfortunate and oppressed
Africans, and to effect this he published a discourse, entitled ‘The
Expulsion of the Gitános,’ addressed to Philip the Third, in which he
conjures that monarch, for the sake of morality and everything sacred, to
complete the good work he had commenced, and to send the Gitános packing
after the Moriscos.

Whether this discourse produced any benefit to the author, we have no
means of ascertaining.  One thing is certain, that it did no harm to the
Gitános, who still continue in Spain.

If he had other expectations, he must have understood very little of the
genius of his countrymen, or of King Philip and his court.  It would have
been easier to get up a crusade against the wild cats of the sierra, than
against the Gitános, as the former have skins to reward those who slay
them.  His discourse, however, is well worthy of perusal, as it exhibits
some learning, and comprises many curious details respecting the Gitános,
their habits, and their practices.  As it is not very lengthy, we here
subjoin it, hoping that the reader will excuse its many absurdities, for
the sake of its many valuable facts.



CHAPTER X


‘SIRE,

‘The people of God were always afflicted by the Egyptians, but the
Supreme King delivered them from their hands by means of many miracles,
which are related in the Holy Scriptures; and now, without having
recourse to so many, but only by means of the miraculous talent which
your Majesty possesses for expelling such reprobates, he will, doubtless,
free this kingdom from them, which is what is supplicated in this
discourse, and it behoves us, in the first place, to consider


‘WHO ARE THE GITÁNOS?


‘Writers generally agree that the first time the Gitános were seen in
Europe was the year 1417, which was in the time of Pope Martinus the
Fifth and King Don John the Second; others say that Tamerlane had them in
his camp in 1401, and that their captain was Cingo, from whence it is
said that they call themselves Cingary.  But the opinions concerning
their origin are infinite.

‘The first is that they are foreigners, though authors differ much with
respect to the country from whence they came.  The majority say that they
are from Africa, and that they came with the Moors when Spain was lost;
others that they are Tartars, Persians, Cilicians, Nubians, from Lower
Egypt, from Syria, or from other parts of Asia and Africa, and others
consider them to be descendants of Chus, son of Cain; others say that
they are of European origin, Bohemians, Germans, or outcasts from other
nations of this quarter of the world.

‘The second and sure opinion is, that those who prowl about Spain are not
Egyptians, but swarms of wasps and atheistical wretches, without any kind
of law or religion, Spaniards, who have introduced this Gypsy life or
sect, and who admit into it every day all the idle and broken people of
Spain.  There are some foreigners who would make Spain the origin and
fountain of all the Gypsies of Europe, as they say that they proceeded
from a river in Spain called Cija, of which Lucan makes mention; an
opinion, however, not much adopted amongst the learned.  In the opinion
of respectable authors, they are called Cingary or Cinli, because they in
every respect resemble the bird cinclo, which we call in Spanish
Motacilla, or aguzanieve (wagtail), which is a vagrant bird and builds no
nest, {138} but broods in those of other birds, a bird restless and poor
of plumage, as Ælian writes.


‘THE GITÁNOS ARE VERY HURTFUL TO SPAIN


‘There is not a nation which does not consider them as a most pernicious
rabble; even the Turks and Moors abominate them, amongst whom this sect
is found under the names of Torlaquis, {139} Hugiemalars, and Dervislars,
of whom some historians make mention, and all agree that they are most
evil people, and highly detrimental to the country where they are found.

‘In the first place, because in all parts they are considered as enemies
of the states where they wander, and as spies and traitors to the crown;
which was proven by the emperors Maximilian and Albert, who declared them
to be such in public edicts; a fact easy to be believed, when we consider
that they enter with ease into the enemies’ country, and know the
languages of all nations.

‘Secondly, because they are idle vagabond people, who are in no respect
useful to the kingdom; without commerce, occupation, or trade of any
description; and if they have any it is making picklocks and pothooks for
appearance sake, being wasps, who only live by sucking and impoverishing
the country, sustaining themselves by the sweat of the miserable
labourers, as a German poet has said of them:—

    “Quos aliena juvant, propriis habitare molestum,
    Fastidit patrium non nisi nosse solum.”

They are much more useless than the Moriscos, as these last were of some
service to the state and the royal revenues, but the Gitános are neither
labourers, gardeners, mechanics, nor merchants, and only serve, like the
wolves, to plunder and to flee.

‘Thirdly, because the Gitánas are public harlots, common, as it is said,
to all the Gitános, and with dances, demeanour, and filthy songs, are the
cause of continual detriment to the souls of the vassals of your Majesty,
it being notorious that they have done infinite harm in many honourable
houses by separating the married women from their husbands, and
perverting the maidens: and finally, in the best of these Gitánas any one
may recognise all the signs of a harlot given by the wise king; they are
gadders about, whisperers, always unquiet in places and corners.

‘Fourthly, because in all parts they are accounted famous thieves, about
which authors write wonderful things; we ourselves have continual
experience of this fact in Spain, where there is scarcely a corner where
they have not committed some heavy offence.

‘Father Martin Del Rio says they were notorious when he was in Leon in
the year 1584; as they even attempted to sack the town of Logroño in the
time of the pest, as Don Francisco De Cordoba writes in his _Didascalia_.
Enormous cases of their excesses we see in infinite processes in all the
tribunals, and particularly in that of the Holy Brotherhood; their
wickedness ascending to such a pitch, that they steal children, and carry
them for sale to Barbary; the reason why the Moors call them in Arabic,
_Raso cherany_, {140} which, as Andreas Tebetus writes, means _master
thieves_.  Although they are addicted to every species of robbery, they
mostly practise horse and cattle stealing, on which account they are
called in law _Abigeos_, and in Spanish _Quatreros_, from which practice
great evils result to the poor labourers.  When they cannot steal cattle,
they endeavour to deceive by means of them, acting as _terceros_, in
fairs and markets.

‘Fifthly, because they are enchanters, diviners, magicians, chiromancers,
who tell the future by the lines of the hand, which is what they call
_Buena ventura_, and are in general addicted to all kind of superstition.

‘This is the opinion entertained of them universally, and which is
confirmed every day by experience; and some think that they are caller
Cingary, from the great Magian Cineus, from whom it is said they learned
their sorceries, and from which result in Spain (especially amongst the
vulgar) great errors, and superstitious credulity, mighty witchcrafts,
and heavy evils, both spiritual and corporeal.

‘Sixthly, because very devout men consider them as heretics, and many as
Gentile idolaters, or atheists, without any religion, although they
exteriorly accommodate themselves to the religion of the country in which
they wander, being Turks with the Turks, heretics with the heretics, and,
amongst the Christians, baptizing now and then a child for form’s sake.
Friar Jayme Bleda produces a hundred signs, from which he concludes that
the Moriscos were not Christians, all which are visible in the Gitános;
very few are known to baptize their children; they are not married, but
it is believed that they keep the women in common; they do not use
dispensations, nor receive the sacraments; they pay no respect to images,
rosaries, bulls, neither do they hear mass, nor divine services; they
never enter the churches, nor observe fasts, Lent, nor any ecclesiastical
precept; which enormities have been attested by long experience, as every
person says.

‘Finally, they practise every kind of wickedness in safety, by
discoursing amongst themselves in a language with which they understand
each other without being understood, which in Spain is called Gerigonza,
which, as some think, ought to be called Cingerionza, or language of
Cingary.  The king our lord saw the evil of such a practice in the law
which he enacted at Madrid, in the year 1566, in which he forbade the
Arabic to the Moriscos, as the use of different languages amongst the
natives of one kingdom opens a door to treason, and is a source of heavy
inconvenience; and this is exemplified more in the case of the Gitános
than of any other people.


‘THE GITÁNOS OUGHT TO BE SEIZED WHEREVER FOUND


‘The civil law ordains that vagrants be seized wherever they are found,
without any favour being shown to them; in conformity with which, the
Gitános in the Greek empire were given as slaves to those who should
capture them; as respectable authors write.  Moreover, the emperor, our
lord, has decreed by a law made in Toledo, in the year 1525, _that the
third time they be found wandering they shall serve as slaves during
their whole life to those who capture them_.  Which can be easily
justified, inasmuch as there is no shepherd who does not place barriers
against the wolves, and does not endeavour to save his flock, and I have
already exposed to your Majesty the damage which the Gitános perpetrate
in Spain.


‘THE GITÁNOS OUGHT TO BE CONDEMNED TO DEATH


‘The reasons are many.  The first, for being spies, and traitors to the
crown; the second as idlers and vagabonds.

‘It ought always to be considered, that no sooner did the race of man
begin, after the creation of the world, than the important point of civil
policy arose of condemning vagrants to death; for Cain was certain that
he should meet his destruction in wandering as a vagabond for the murder
of Abel.  _Ero vagus et profugus in terra: omnis igitur qui invenerit
me_, _occidet me_.  Now, the _igitur_ stands here as the natural
consequence of _vagus ero_; as it is evident, that whoever shall see me
must kill me, because he sees me a wanderer.  And it must always be
remembered, that at that time there were no people in the world but the
parents and brothers of Cain, as St. Ambrose has remarked.  Moreover,
God, by the mouth of Jeremias, menaced his people, that all should devour
them whilst they went wandering amongst the mountains.  And it is a
doctrine entertained by theologians, that the mere act of wandering,
without anything else, carries with it a vehement suspicion of capital
crime.  Nature herself demonstrates it in the curious political system of
the bees, in whose well-governed republic the drones are killed in April,
when they commence working.

‘The third, because they are stealers of four-footed beasts, who are
condemned to death by the laws of Spain, in the wise code of the famous
King Don Alonso; which enactment became a part of the common law.

‘The fourth, for wizards, diviners, and for practising arts which are
prohibited under pain of death by the divine law itself.  And Saul is
praised for having caused this law to be put in execution in the
beginning of his reign; and the Holy Scripture attributes to the breach
of it (namely, his consulting the witch) his disastrous death, and the
transfer of the kingdom to David.  The Emperor Constantine the Great, and
other emperors who founded the civil law, condemned to death those who
should practise such facinorousness,—as the President of Tolosa has
written.

‘The last and most urgent cause is, that they are heretics, if what is
said be truth; and it is the practice of the law in Spain to burn such.


‘THE GITÁNOS ARE EXPELLED FROM THE COUNTRY BY THE LAWS OF SPAIN


‘Firstly, they are comprehended as hale beggars in the law of the wise
king, Don Alonso, by which he expelled all sturdy beggars, as being idle
and useless.

‘Secondly, the law expels public harlots from the city; and of this
matter I have already said something in my second chapter.

‘Thirdly, as people who cause scandal, and who, as is visible at the
first glance, are prejudicial to morals and common decency.  Now, it is
established by the statute law of these kingdoms, that such people be
expelled therefrom; it is said so in the well-pondered words of the edict
for the expulsion of the Moors: “And forasmuch as the sense of good and
Christian government makes it a matter of conscience to expel from the
kingdoms the things which cause scandal, injury to honest subjects,
danger to the state, and above all, disloyalty to the Lord our God.”
Therefore, considering the incorrigibility of the Gitános, the Spanish
kings made many holy laws in order to deliver their subjects from such
pernicious people.

‘Fourthly, the Catholic princes, Ferdinand and Isabella, by a law which
they made in Medina del Campo, in the year 1494, and which the emperor
our lord renewed in Toledo in 1523, and in Madrid in 1528 and 1534, and
the late king our lord, in 1560, banished them perpetually from Spain,
and gave them as slaves to whomsoever should find them, after the
expiration of the term specified in the edict—laws which are notorious
even amongst strangers.  The words are:—“We declare to be vagabonds, and
subject to the aforesaid penalty, the Egyptians and foreign tinkers, who
by laws and statutes of these kingdoms are commanded to depart therefrom;
and the poor sturdy beggars, who contrary to the order given in the new
edict, beg for alms and wander about.”


‘THE LAWS ARE VERY JUST WHICH EXPEL THE GITÁNOS FROM THE STATES


All the doctors, who are of opinion that the Gitános may be condemned to
death, would consider it as an act of mercy in your Majesty to banish
them perpetually from Spain, and at the same time as exceedingly just.
Many and learned men not only consider that it is just to expel them, but
cannot sufficiently wonder that they are tolerated in Christian states,
and even consider that such toleration is an insult to the kingdoms.

‘Whilst engaged in writing this, I have seen a very learned memorial, in
which Doctor Salazar de Mendoza makes the same supplication to your
Majesty which is made in this discourse, holding it to be the imperious
duty of every good government.

‘It stands in reason that the prince is bound to watch for the welfare of
his subjects, and the wrongs which those of your Majesty receive from the
Gitános I have already exposed in my second chapter; it being a point
worthy of great consideration that the wrongs caused by the Moriscos
moved your royal and merciful bosom to drive them out, although they were
many, and their departure would be felt as a loss to the population, the
commerce, the royal revenues, and agriculture.  Now, with respect to the
Gitános, as they are few, and perfectly useless for everything, it
appears more necessary to drive them forth, the injuries which they cause
being so numerous.

‘Secondly, because the Gitános, as I have already said, are Spaniards;
and as others profess the sacred orders of religion, even so do these
fellows profess gypsying, which is robbery and all the other vices
enumerated in chapter the second.  And whereas it is just to banish from
the kingdom those who have committed any heavy delinquency, it is still
more so to banish those who profess to be injurious to all.

‘Thirdly, because all the kings and rulers have always endeavoured to
eject from their kingdoms the idle and useless.  And it is very
remarkable, that the law invariably commands them to be expelled, and the
republics of Athens and Corinth were accustomed to do so—casting them
forth like dung, even as Athenæus writes: _Nos genus hoc mortalium
ejicimus ex hac urbe velut purgamina_.  Now the profession of the Gypsy
is idleness.

‘Fourthly, because the Gitános are diviners, enchanters, and mischievous
wretches, and the law commands us to expel such from the state.

‘In the fifth place, because your Majesty, in the Cortes at present
assembled, has obliged your royal conscience to fulfil all the articles
voted for the public service, and the forty-ninth says: “One of the
things at present most necessary to be done in these kingdoms, is to
afford a remedy for the robberies, plundering and murders committed by
the Gitános, who go wandering about the country, stealing the cattle of
the poor, and committing a thousand outrages, living without any fear of
God, and being Christians only in name.  It is therefore deemed
expedient, that your Majesty command them to quit these kingdoms within
six months, to be reckoned from the day of the ratification of these
presents, and that they do not return to the same under pain of death.”

‘Against this, two things may possibly be urged:—

‘The first, that the laws of Spain give unto the Gitános the alternative
of residing in large towns, which, it appears, would be better than
expelling them.  But experience, recognised by grave and respectable men,
has shown that it is not well to harbour these people; for their houses
are dens of thieves, from whence they prowl abroad to rob the land.

‘The second, that it appears a pity to banish the women and children.
But to this can be opposed that holy act of your Majesty which expelled
the Moriscos, and the children of the Moriscos, for the reason given in
the royal edict.  _Whenever any detestable crime is committed by any
university_, _it is well to punish all_.  And the most detestable crimes
of all are those which the Gitános commit, since it is notorious that
they subsist on what they steal; and as to the children, there is no law
which obliges us to bring up wolf-whelps, to cause here-after certain
damage to the flock.


‘IT HAS EVER BEEN THE PRACTICE OF PRINCES TO EXPEL THE GITÁNOS


‘Every one who considers the manner of your Majesty’s government as the
truly Christian pattern must entertain fervent hope that the advice
proffered in this discourse will be attended to; more especially on
reflecting that not only the good, but even the most barbarous kings have
acted up to it in their respective dominions.

‘Pharaoh was bad enough, nevertheless he judged that the children of
Israel were dangerous to the state, because they appeared to him to be
living without any certain occupation; and for this very reason the
Chaldeans cast them out of Babylon.  Amasis, king of Egypt, drove all the
vagrants from his kingdom, forbidding them to return under pain of death.
The Soldan of Egypt expelled the Torlaquis.  The Moors did the same; and
Bajazet cast them out of all the Ottoman empire, according to Leo
Clavius.

‘In the second place, the Christian princes have deemed it an important
measure of state.

‘The emperor our Lord, in the German Diets of the year 1548, expelled the
Gitános from all his empire, and these were the words of the decree:
“Zigeuner quos compertum est proditores esse, et exploratores hostium
nusquam in imperio locum inveniunto.  In deprehensos vis et injuria sine
fraude esto.  Fides publica Zigeuners ne dator, nec data servator.”

‘The King of France, Francis, expelled them from thence; and the Duke of
Terranova, when Governor of Milan for our lord the king, obliged them to
depart from that territory under pain of death.

‘Thirdly, there is one grand reason which ought to be conclusive in
moving him who so much values himself in being a faithful son of the
church,—I mean the example which Pope Pius the Fifth gave to all the
princes; for he drove the Gitános from all his domains, and in the year
1568, he expelled the Jews, assigning as reasons for their expulsion
those which are more closely applicable to the Gitános;—namely, that they
sucked the vitals of the state, without being of any utility whatever;
that they were thieves themselves, and harbourers of others; that they
were wizards, diviners, and wretches who induced people to believe that
they knew the future, which is what the Gitános at present do by telling
fortunes.

‘Your Majesty has already freed us from greater and more dangerous
enemies; finish, therefore, the enterprise begun, whence will result
universal joy and security, and by which your Majesty will earn immortal
honour.  Amen.

‘O Regum summe, horum plura ne temnas (absit) ne fortè tempsisse Hispaniæ
periculosum existat.’



CHAPTER XI


PERHAPS there is no country in which more laws have been framed, having
in view the extinction and suppression of the Gypsy name, race, and
manner of life, than Spain.  Every monarch, during a period of three
hundred years, appears at his accession to the throne to have considered
that one of his first and most imperative duties consisted in suppressing
or checking the robberies, frauds, and other enormities of the Gitános,
with which the whole country seems to have resounded since the time of
their first appearance.

They have, by royal edicts, been repeatedly banished from Spain, under
terrible penalties, unless they renounced their inveterate habits; and
for the purpose of eventually confounding them with the residue of the
population, they have been forbidden, even when stationary, to reside
together, every family being enjoined to live apart, and neither to seek
nor to hold communication with others of the race.

We shall say nothing at present as to the wisdom which dictated these
provisions, nor whether others might not have been devised, better
calculated to produce the end desired.  Certain it is, that the laws were
never, or very imperfectly, put in force, and for reasons with which
their expediency or equity (which no one at the time impugned) had no
connection whatever.

It is true that, in a country like Spain, abounding in wildernesses and
almost inaccessible mountains, the task of hunting down and exterminating
or banishing the roving bands would have been found one of no slight
difficulty, even if such had ever been attempted; but it must be
remembered, that from an early period colonies of Gitános have existed in
the principal towns of Spain, where the men have plied the trades of
jockeys and blacksmiths, and the women subsisted by divination, and all
kinds of fraud.  These colonies were, of course, always within the reach
of the hand of justice, yet it does not appear that they were more
interfered with than the roving and independent bands, and that any
serious attempts were made to break them up, though notorious as
nurseries and refuges of crime.

It is a lamentable fact, that pure and uncorrupt justice has never
existed in Spain, as far at least as record will allow us to judge; not
that the principles of justice have been less understood there than in
other countries, but because the entire system of justiciary
administration has ever been shamelessly profligate and vile.

Spanish justice has invariably been a mockery, a thing to be bought and
sold, terrible only to the feeble and innocent, and an instrument of
cruelty and avarice.

The tremendous satires of Le Sage upon Spanish corregidors and alguazils
are true, even at the present day, and the most notorious offenders can
generally escape, if able to administer sufficient bribes to the
ministers {153} of what is misnamed justice.

The reader, whilst perusing the following extracts from the laws framed
against the Gitános, will be filled with wonder that the Gypsy sect still
exists in Spain, contrary to the declared will of the sovereign and the
nation, so often repeated during a period of three hundred years; yet
such is the fact, and it can only be accounted for on the ground of
corruption.

It was notorious that the Gitános had powerful friends and favourers in
every district, who sanctioned and encouraged them in their Gypsy
practices.  These their fautors were of all ranks and grades, from the
corregidor of noble blood to the low and obscure escribano; and from the
viceroy of the province to the archer of the Hermandad.

To the high and noble, they were known as Chalanes, and to the plebeian
functionaries, as people who, notwithstanding their general poverty,
could pay for protection.

A law was even enacted against these protectors of the Gitános, which of
course failed, as the execution of the law was confided to the very
delinquents against whom it was directed.  Thus, the Gitáno bought, sold,
and exchanged animals openly, though he subjected himself to the penalty
of death by so doing, or left his habitation when he thought fit, though
such an act, by the law of the land, was punishable with the galleys.

In one of their songs they have commemorated the impunity with which they
wandered about.  The escribano, to whom the Gitános of the neighbourhood
pay contribution, on a strange Gypsy being brought before him, instantly
orders him to be liberated, assigning as a reason that he is no Gitáno,
but a legitimate Spaniard:—

    ‘I left my house, and walked about
       They seized me fast, and bound:
    It is a Gypsy thief, they shout,
       The Spaniards here have found.

    ‘From out the prison me they led,
       Before the scribe they brought;
    It is no Gypsy thief, he said,
       The Spaniards here have caught.’

In a word, nothing was to be gained by interfering with the Gitános, by
those in whose hands the power was vested; but, on the contrary,
something was to be lost.  The chief sufferers were the labourers, and
they had no power to right themselves, though their wrongs were
universally admitted, and laws for their protection continually being
made, which their enemies contrived to set at nought; as will presently
be seen.

The first law issued against the Gypsies appears to have been that of
Ferdinand and Isabella, at Medina del Campo, in 1499.  In this edict they
were commanded, under certain penalties, to become stationary in towns
and villages, and to provide themselves with masters whom they might
serve for their maintenance, or in default thereof, to quit the kingdom
at the end of sixty days.  No mention is made of the country to which
they were expected to betake themselves in the event of their quitting
Spain.  Perhaps, as they are called Egyptians, it was concluded that they
would forthwith return to Egypt; but the framers of the law never seem to
have considered what means these Egyptians possessed of transporting
their families and themselves across the sea to such a distance, or if
they betook themselves to other countries, what reception a host of
people, confessedly thieves and vagabonds, were likely to meet with, or
whether it was fair in the _two Christian princes_ to get rid of such a
nuisance at the expense of their neighbours.  Such matters were of course
left for the Gypsies themselves to settle.

In this edict, a class of individuals is mentioned in conjunction with
the Gitános, or Gypsies, but distinguished from them by the name of
foreign tinkers, or Caldéros estrangéros.  By these, we presume, were
meant the Calabrians, who are still to be seen upon the roads of Spain,
wandering about from town to town, in much the same way as the itinerant
tinkers of England at the present day.  A man, half a savage, a haggard
woman, who is generally a Spaniard, a wretched child, and still more
miserable donkey, compose the group; the gains are of course exceedingly
scanty, nevertheless this life, seemingly so wretched, has its charms for
these outcasts, who live without care and anxiety, without a thought
beyond the present hour, and who sleep as sound in ruined posadas and
ventas, or in ravines amongst rocks and pines, as the proudest grandee in
his palace at Seville or Madrid.

Don Carlos and Donna Juanna, at Toledo, 1539, confirmed the edict of
Medina del Campo against the Egyptians, with the addition, that if any
Egyptian, after the expiration of the sixty days, should be found
wandering about, he should be sent to the galleys for six years, if above
the age of twenty and under that of fifty, and if under or above those
years, punished as the preceding law provides.

Philip the Second, at Madrid, 1586, after commanding that all the laws
and edicts be observed, by which the Gypsies are forbidden to wander
about, and commanded to establish themselves, ordains, with the view of
restraining their thievish and cheating practices, that none of them be
permitted to sell anything, either within or without fairs or markets, if
not provided with a testimony signed by the notary public, to prove that
they have a settled residence, and where it may be; which testimony must
also specify and describe the horses, cattle, linen, and other things,
which they carry forth for sale; otherwise they are to be punished as
thieves, and what they attempt to sell considered as stolen property.

Philip the Third, at Belem, in Portugal, 1619, commands all the Gypsies
of the kingdom to quit the same within the term of six months, and never
to return, under pain of death; those who should wish to remain are to
establish themselves in cities, towns, and villages, of one thousand
families and upwards, and are not to be allowed the use of the dress,
name, and language of Gypsies, _in order that_, _forasmuch as they are
not such by nation_, _this name and manner of life may be for evermore
confounded and forgotten_.  They are moreover forbidden, under the same
penalty, to have anything to do with the buying or selling of cattle,
whether great or small.

The most curious portion of the above law is the passage in which these
people are declared not to be Gypsies by nation.  If they are not
Gypsies, who are they then?  Spaniards?  If so, what right had the King
of Spain to send the refuse of his subjects abroad, to corrupt other
lands, over which he had no jurisdiction?

The Moors were sent back to Africa, under some colour of justice, as they
came originally from that part of the world; but what would have been
said to such a measure, if the edict which banished them had declared
that they were not Moors, but Spaniards?

The law, moreover, in stating that they are not Gypsies by nation, seems
to have forgotten that in that case it would be impossible to distinguish
them from other Spaniards, so soon as they should have dropped the name,
language, and dress of Gypsies.  How, provided they were like other
Spaniards, and did not carry the mark of another nation on their
countenances, could it be known whether or not they obeyed the law, which
commanded them to live only in populous towns or villages, or how could
they be detected in the buying or selling of cattle, which the law
forbids them under pain of death?

The attempt to abolish the Gypsy name and manner of life might have been
made without the assertion of a palpable absurdity.

Philip the Fourth, May 8, 1633, after reference to the evil lives and
want of religion of the Gypsies, and the complaints made against them by
prelates and others, declares ‘that the laws hitherto adopted since the
year 1499, have been inefficient to restrain their excesses; that they
are not Gypsies by origin or nature, but have adopted this form of life’;
and then, after forbidding them, according to custom, the dress and
language of Gypsies, under the usual severe penalties, he ordains:—

‘1st.  That under the same penalties, the aforesaid people shall, within
two months, leave the quarters (barrios) where they now live with the
denomination of Gitános, and that they shall separate from each other,
and mingle with the other inhabitants, and that they shall hold no more
meetings, neither in public nor in secret; that the ministers of justice
are to observe, with particular diligence, how they fulfil these
commands, and whether they hold communication with each other, or marry
amongst themselves; and how they fulfil the obligations of Christians by
assisting at sacred worship in the churches; upon which latter point they
are to procure information with all possible secrecy from the curates and
clergy of the parishes where the Gitános reside.

‘2ndly.  And in order to extirpate, in every way, the name of Gitános, we
ordain that they be not called so, and that no one venture to call them
so, and that such shall be esteemed a very heavy injury, and shall be
punished as such, if proved, and that nought pertaining to the Gypsies,
their name, dress, or actions, be represented, either in dances or in any
other performance, under the penalty of two years’ banishment, and a
mulct of fifty thousand maravedis to whomsoever shall offend for the
first time, and double punishment for the second.’

The above two articles seem to have in view the suppression and breaking
up of the Gypsy colonies established in the large towns, more especially
the suburbs; farther on, mention is made of the wandering bands.

‘4thly.  And forasmuch as we have understood that numerous Gitános rove
in bands through various parts of the kingdom, committing robberies in
uninhabited places, and even invading some small villages, to the great
terror and danger of the inhabitants, we give by this our law a general
commission to all ministers of justice, whether appertaining to royal
domains, lordships, or abbatial territories, that every one may, in his
district, proceed to the imprisonment and chastisement of the
delinquents, and may pass beyond his own jurisdiction in pursuit of them;
and we also command all the ministers of justice aforesaid, that on
receiving information that Gitános or highwaymen are prowling in their
districts, they do assemble at an appointed day, and with the necessary
preparation of men and arms they do hunt down, take, and deliver them
under a good guard to the nearest officer holding the royal commission.’

Carlos the Second followed in the footsteps of his predecessors, with
respect to the Gitános.  By a law of the 20th of November 1692, he
inhibits the Gitános from living in towns of less than one thousand heads
of families (vecinos), and pursuing any trade or employment, save the
cultivation of the ground; from going in the dress of Gypsies, or
speaking the language or gibberish which they use; from living apart in
any particular quarter of the town; from visiting fairs with cattle,
great or small, or even selling or exchanging such at any time, unless
with the testimonial of the public notary, that they were bred within
their own houses.  By this law they are also forbidden to have firearms
in their possession.

So far from being abashed by this law, or the preceding one, the Gitános
seem to have increased in excesses of every kind.  Only three years after
(12th June 1695), the same monarch deemed it necessary to publish a new
law for their persecution and chastisement.  This law, which is
exceedingly severe, consists of twenty-nine articles.  By the fourth they
are forbidden any other exercise or manner of life than that of the
cultivation of the fields, in which their wives and children, if of
competent age, are to assist them.

Of every other office, employment, or commerce, they are declared
incapable, and especially of being _blacksmiths_.

By the fifth, they are forbidden to keep horses or mares, either within
or without their houses, or to make use of them in any way whatever,
under the penalty of two months’ imprisonment and the forfeiture of such
animals; and any one lending them a horse or a mare is to forfeit the
same, if it be found in their possession.  They are declared only capable
of keeping a mule, or some lesser beast, to assist them in their labour,
or for the use of their families.

By the twelfth, they are to be punished with six years in the galleys, if
they leave the towns or villages in which they are located, and pass to
others, or wander in the fields or roads; and they are only to be
permitted to go out, in order to exercise the pursuit of husbandry.  In
this edict, particular mention is made of the favour and protection shown
to the Gitános, by people of various descriptions, by means of which they
had been enabled to follow their manner of life undisturbed, and to
baffle the severity of the laws:—

‘Article 16.—And because we understand that the continuance in these
kingdoms of those who are called Gitános has depended on the favour,
protection, and assistance which they have experienced from persons of
different stations, we do ordain, that whosoever, against whom shall be
proved the fact of having, since the day of the publication hereof,
favoured, received, or assisted the said Gitános, in any manner whatever,
whether within their houses or without, the said person, provided he is
noble, shall be subjected to the fine of six thousand ducats, the half of
which shall be applied to our treasury, and the other half to the
expenses of the prosecution; and, if a plebeian, to a punishment of ten
years in the galleys.  And we declare, that in order to proceed to the
infliction of such fine and punishment, the evidence of two respectable
witnesses, without stain or suspicion, shall be esteemed legitimate and
conclusive, although they depose to separate acts, or three depositions
of the Gitános themselves, _made upon the rack_, although they relate to
separate and different acts of abetting and harbouring.’

The following article is curious, as it bears evidence to Gypsy craft and
cunning:—

‘Article 18.—And whereas it is very difficult to prove against the
Gitános the robberies and delinquencies which they commit, partly because
they happen in uninhabited places, but more especially on account of the
_malice_ and _cunning_ with which they execute them; we do ordain, in
order that they may receive the merited chastisement, that to convict, in
these cases, those who are called Gitános, the depositions of the persons
whom they have robbed in uninhabited places shall be sufficient, provided
there are at least two witnesses to one and the same fact, and these of
good fame and reputation; and we also declare, that the _corpus delicti_
may be proved in the same manner in these cases, in order that the
culprits may be proceeded against, and condemned to the corresponding
pains and punishments.’

The council of Madrid published a schedule, 18th of August 1705, from
which it appears that the villages and roads were so much infested by the
Gitáno race, that there was neither peace nor safety for labourers and
travellers; the corregidors and justices are therefore exhorted to use
their utmost endeavour to apprehend these outlaws, and to execute upon
them the punishments enjoined by the preceding law.  The ministers of
justice are empowered to fire upon them as public enemies, wherever they
meet them, in case of resistance or refusal to deliver up the arms they
carry about them.

Philip the Fifth, by schedule, October 1st, 1726, forbade any complaints
which the Gitános might have to make against the inferior justices being
heard in the higher tribunals, and, on that account, banished all the
Gypsy women from Madrid, and, indeed, from all towns where royal
audiences were held, it being the custom of the women to flock up to the
capital from the small towns and villages, under pretence of claiming
satisfaction for wrongs inflicted upon their husbands and relations, and
when there to practise the art of divination, and to sing obscene songs
through the streets; by this law, also, the justices are particularly
commanded not to permit the Gitános to leave their places of domicile,
except in cases of very urgent necessity.

This law was attended with the same success as the others; the Gitános
left their places of domicile whenever they thought proper, frequented
the various fairs, and played off their jockey tricks as usual, or
traversed the country in armed gangs, plundering the small villages, and
assaulting travellers.

The same monarch, in October, published another law against them, from
St. Lorenzo, of the Escurial.  From the words of this edict, and the
measures resolved upon, the reader may form some idea of the excesses of
the Gitános at this period.  They are to be hunted down with fire and
sword, and even the sanctity of the temples is to be invaded in their
pursuit, and the Gitános dragged from the horns of the altar, should they
flee thither for refuge.  It was impossible, in Spain, to carry the
severity of persecution farther, as the very parricide was in perfect
safety, could he escape to the church.  Here follows part of this law:—

‘I have resolved that all the lord-lieutenants, intendants, and
corregidors shall publish proclamations, and fix edicts, to the effect
that all the Gitános who are domiciled in the cities and towns of their
jurisdiction shall return within the space of fifteen days to their
places of domicile, under penalty of being declared, at the expiration of
that term, as public banditti, subject to be fired at in the event of
being found with arms, or without them, beyond the limits of their places
of domicile; and at the expiration of the term aforesaid, the
lord-lieutenants, intendants, and corregidors are strictly commanded,
that either they themselves, or suitable persons deputed by them, march
out with armed soldiery, or if there be none at hand, with the militias,
and their officers, accompanied by the horse rangers, destined for the
protection of the revenue, for the purpose of scouring the whole district
within their jurisdiction, making use of all possible diligence to
apprehend such Gitános as are to be found on the public roads and other
places beyond their domiciliary bounds, and to inflict upon them the
penalty of death, for the mere act of being found.

‘And in the event of their taking refuge in sacred places, they are
empowered to drag them forth, and conduct them to the neighbouring
prisons and fortresses, and provided the ecclesiastical judges proceed
against the secular, in order that they be restored to the church, they
are at liberty to avail themselves of the recourse to force, countenanced
by laws declaring, even as I now declare, that all the Gitános who shall
leave their allotted places of abode, are to be held as incorrigible
rebels, and enemies of the public peace.’

From this period, until the year 1780, various other laws and schedules
were directed against the Gitános, which, as they contain nothing very
new or remarkable, we may be well excused from particularising.  In 1783,
a law was passed by the government, widely differing in character from
any which had hitherto been enacted in connection with the Gitáno caste
or religion in Spain.



CHAPTER XII


CARLOS TERCERO, or Charles the Third, ascended the throne of Spain in the
year 1759, and died in 1788.  No Spanish monarch has left behind a more
favourable impression on the minds of the generality of his countrymen;
indeed, he is the only one who is remembered at all by all ranks and
conditions;—perhaps he took the surest means for preventing his name
being forgotten, by erecting a durable monument in every large town,—we
do not mean a pillar surmounted by a statue, or a colossal figure on
horseback, but some useful and stately public edifice.  All the
magnificent modern buildings which attract the eye of the traveller in
Spain, sprang up during the reign of Carlos Tercero,—for example, the
museum at Madrid, the gigantic tobacco fabric at Seville,—half fortress,
half manufactory,—and the Farol, at Coruña.  We suspect that these
erections, which speak to the eye, have gained him far greater credit
amongst Spaniards than the support which he afforded to liberal opinions,
which served to fan the flame of insurrection in the new world, and
eventually lost for Spain her transatlantic empire.

We have said that he left behind him a favourable impression amongst the
generality of his countrymen; by which we mean the great body found in
every nation, who neither think nor reason,—for there are amongst the
Spaniards not a few who deny that any of his actions entitle him to the
gratitude of the nation.  ‘All his thoughts,’ say they, ‘were directed to
hunting—and hunting alone; and all the days of the year he employed
himself either in hunting or in preparation for the sport.  In one
expedition, in the parks of the Pardo, he spent several millions of
reals.  The noble edifices which adorn Spain, though built by his orders,
are less due to his reign than to the anterior one,—to the reign of
Ferdinand the Sixth, who left immense treasures, a small portion of which
Carlos Tercero devoted to these purposes, squandering away the remainder.
It is said that Carlos Tercero was no friend to superstition; yet how
little did Spain during his time gain in religious liberty!  The great
part of the nation remained intolerant and theocratic as before, the
other and smaller section turned philosophic, but after the insane manner
of the French revolutionists, intolerant in its incredulity, and
believing more in the _Encyclopédie_ than in the Gospel of the Nazarene.’
{167}

We should not have said thus much of Carlos Tercero, whose character has
been extravagantly praised by the multitude, and severely criticised by
the discerning few who look deeper than the surface of things, if a law
passed during his reign did not connect him intimately with the history
of the Gitános, whose condition to a certain extent it has already
altered, and over whose future destinies there can be no doubt that it
will exert considerable influence.  Whether Carlos Tercero had anything
farther to do with its enactment than subscribing it with his own hand,
is a point difficult to determine; the chances are that he had not; there
is damning evidence to prove that in many respects he was a mere Nimrod,
and it is not probable that such a character would occupy his thoughts
much with plans for the welfare of his people, especially such a class as
the Gitános, however willing to build public edifices, gratifying to his
vanity, with the money which a provident predecessor had amassed.

The law in question is dated 19th September 1783.  It is entitled, ‘Rules
for repressing and chastising the vagrant mode of life, and other
excesses, of those who are called Gitános.’  It is in many respects
widely different from all the preceding laws, and on that account we have
separated it from them, deeming it worthy of particular notice.  It is
evidently the production of a comparatively enlightened spirit, for Spain
had already begun to emerge from the dreary night of monachism and
bigotry, though the light which beamed upon her was not that of the
Gospel, but of modern philosophy.  The spirit, however, of the writers of
the _Encyclopédie_ is to be preferred to that of _Torquemada and
Moncada_, and however deeply we may lament the many grievous omissions in
the law of Carlos Tercero (for no provision was made for the spiritual
instruction of the Gitános), we prefer it in all points to that of Philip
the Third, and to the law passed during the reign of that unhappy victim
of monkish fraud, perfidy, and poison, Charles the Second.

Whoever framed the law of Carlos Tercero with respect to the Gitános, had
sense enough to see that it would be impossible to reclaim and bring them
within the pale of civilised society by pursuing the course invariably
adopted on former occasions—to see that all the menacing edicts for the
last three hundred years, breathing a spirit of blood and persecution,
had been unable to eradicate Gitanismo from Spain; but on the contrary,
had rather served to extend it.  Whoever framed this law was, moreover,
well acquainted with the manner of administering justice in Spain, and
saw the folly of making statutes which were never put into effect.
Instead, therefore, of relying on corregidors and alguazils for the
extinction of the Gypsy sect, the statute addresses itself more
particularly to the Gitános themselves, and endeavours to convince them
that it would be for their interest to renounce their much cherished
Gitanismo.  Those who framed the former laws had invariably done their
best to brand this race with infamy, and had marked out for its members,
in the event of abandoning their Gypsy habits, a life to which death
itself must have been preferable in every respect.  They were not to
speak to each other, nor to intermarry, though, as they were considered
of an impure caste, it was scarcely to be expected that the other
Spaniards would form with them relations of love or amity, and they were
debarred the exercise of any trade or occupation but hard labour, for
which neither by nature nor habit they were at all adapted.  The law of
Carlos Tercero, on the contrary, flung open to them the whole career of
arts and sciences, and declared them capable of following any trade or
profession to which they might please to addict themselves.  Here follow
extracts from the above-mentioned law:—

‘Art. 1.  I declare that those who go by the name of Gitános are not so
by origin or nature, nor do they proceed from any infected root.

‘2.  I therefore command that neither they, nor any one of them shall use
the language, dress, or vagrant kind of life which they have followed
unto the present time, under the penalties here below contained.

‘3.  I forbid all my vassals, of whatever state, class, and condition
they may be, to call or name the above-mentioned people by the names of
Gitános, or new Castilians, under the same penalties to which those are
subject who injure others by word or writing.

‘5.  It is my will that those who abandon the said mode of life, dress,
language, or jargon, be admitted to whatever offices or employments to
which they may apply themselves, and likewise to any guilds or
communities, without any obstacle or contradiction being offered to them,
or admitted under this pretext within or without courts of law.

‘6.  Those who shall oppose and refuse the admission of this class of
reclaimed people to their trades and guilds shall be mulcted ten ducats
for the first time, twenty for the second, and a double quantity for the
third; and during the time they continue in their opposition they shall
be prohibited from exercising the same trade, for a certain period, to be
determined by the judge, and proportioned to the opposition which they
display.

‘7.  I grant the term of ninety days, to be reckoned from the publication
of this law in the principal town of every district, in order that all
the vagabonds of this and any other class may retire to the towns and
villages where they may choose to locate themselves, with the exception,
for the present, of the capital and the royal residences, in order that,
abandoning the dress, language, and behaviour of those who are called
Gitános, they may devote themselves to some honest office, trade, or
occupation, it being a matter of indifference whether the same be
connected with labour or the arts.

‘8.  It will not be sufficient for those who have been formerly known to
follow this manner of life to devote themselves solely to the occupation
of shearing and clipping animals, nor to the traffic of markets and
fairs, nor still less to the occupation of keepers of inns and ventas in
uninhabited places, although they may be innkeepers within towns, which
employment shall be considered as sufficient, provided always there be no
well-founded indications of their being delinquents themselves, or
harbourers of such people.

‘9.  At the expiration of ninety days, the justices shall proceed against
the disobedient in the following manner:—Those who, having abandoned the
dress, name, language or jargon, association, and manners of Gitános, and
shall have moreover chosen and established a domicile, but shall not have
devoted themselves to any office or employment, though it be only that of
day-labourers, shall be considered as vagrants, and be apprehended and
punished according to the laws in force against such people without any
distinction being made between them and the other vassals.

‘10.  Those who henceforth shall commit any crimes, having abandoned the
language, dress, and manners of Gitános, chosen a domicile, and applied
themselves to any office, shall be prosecuted and chastised like others
guilty of the same crimes, without any difference being made between
them.

‘11.  But those who shall have abandoned the aforesaid dress, language
and behaviour, and those who, pretending to speak and dress like the
other vassals, and even to choose a domiciliary residence, shall continue
to go forth, wandering about the roads and uninhabited places, although
it be with the pretext of visiting markets and fairs, such people shall
be pursued and taken by the justices, and a list of them formed, with
their names and appellations, age, description, with the places where
they say they reside and were born.

‘16.   I, however, except from punishment the children and young people
of both sexes who are not above sixteen years of age.

‘17.  Such, although they may belong to a family, shall be separated from
their parents who wander about and have no employment, and shall be
destined to learn something, or shall be placed out in hospices or houses
of instruction.

‘20.  When the register of the Gitános who have proved disobedient shall
have taken place, it shall be notified and made known to them, that in
case of another relapse, the punishment of death shall be executed upon
them without remission, on the examination of the register, and proof
being adduced that they have returned to their former life.’

What effect was produced by this law, and whether its results at all
corresponded to the views of those who enacted it, will be gathered from
the following chapters of this work, in which an attempt will be made to
delineate briefly the present condition of the Gypsies in Spain.



THE ZINCALI
PART II


CHAPTER I


ABOUT twelve in the afternoon of the 6th of January 1836, I crossed the
bridge of the Guadiana, a boundary river between Portugal and Spain, and
entered Badajoz, a strong town in the latter kingdom, containing about
eight thousand inhabitants, supposed to have been founded by the Romans.
I instantly returned thanks to God for having preserved me in a journey
of five days through the wilds of the Alemtejo, the province of Portugal
the most infested by robbers and desperate characters, which I had
traversed with no other human companion than a lad, almost an idiot, who
was to convey back the mules which had brought me from Aldea Gallega.  I
intended to make but a short stay, and as a diligence would set out for
Madrid the day next but one to my arrival, I purposed departing therein
for the capital of Spain.

I was standing at the door of the inn where I had taken up my temporary
abode; the weather was gloomy, and rain seemed to be at hand; I was
thinking on the state of the country I had just entered, which was
involved in bloody anarchy and confusion, and where the ministers of a
religion falsely styled Catholic and Christian were blowing the trump of
war, instead of preaching the love-engendering words of the blessed
Gospel.

Suddenly two men, wrapped in long cloaks, came down the narrow and almost
deserted street; they were about to pass, and the face of the nearest was
turned full towards me; I knew to whom the countenance which he displayed
must belong, and I touched him on the arm.  The man stopped, and likewise
his companion; I said a certain word, to which, after an exclamation of
surprise, he responded in the manner I expected.  The men were Gitános or
Gypsies, members of that singular family or race which has diffused
itself over the face of the civilised globe, and which, in all lands, has
preserved more or less its original customs and its own peculiar
language.

We instantly commenced discoursing in the Spanish dialect of this
language, with which I was tolerably well acquainted.  I asked my two
newly-made acquaintances whether there were many of their race in Badajoz
and the vicinity: they informed me that there were eight or ten families
in the town, and that there were others at Merida, a town about six
leagues distant.  I inquired by what means they lived, and they replied
that they and their brethren principally gained a livelihood by
trafficking in mules and asses, but that all those in Badajoz were very
poor, with the exception of one man, who was exceedingly _balbalo_, or
rich, as he was in possession of many mules and other cattle.  They
removed their cloaks for a moment, and I found that their under-garments
were rags.

They left me in haste, and went about the town informing the rest that a
stranger had arrived who spoke Rommany as well as themselves, who had the
face of a Gitáno, and seemed to be of the ‘erráte,’ or blood.  In less
than half an hour the street before the inn was filled with the men,
women, and children of Egypt.  I went out amongst them, and my heart sank
within me as I surveyed them: so much vileness, dirt, and misery I had
never seen amongst a similar number of human beings; but worst of all was
the evil expression of their countenances, which spoke plainly that they
were conversant with every species of crime, and it was not long before I
found that their countenances did not belie them.  After they had asked
me an infinity of questions, and felt my hands, face, and clothes, they
retired to their own homes.

That same night the two men of whom I have already particularly spoken
came to see me.  They sat down by the brasero in the middle of the
apartment, and began to smoke small paper cigars.  We continued for a
considerable time in silence surveying each other.  Of the two Gitános
one was an elderly man, tall and bony, with lean, skinny, and whimsical
features, though perfectly those of a Gypsy; he spoke little, and his
expressions were generally singular and grotesque.  His companion, who
was the man whom I had first noticed in the street, differed from him in
many respects; he could be scarcely thirty, and his figure, which was
about the middle height, was of Herculean proportions; shaggy black hair,
like that of a wild beast, covered the greatest part of his immense head;
his face was frightfully seamed with the small-pox, and his eyes, which
glared like those of ferrets, peered from beneath bushy eyebrows; he wore
immense moustaches, and his wide mouth was garnished with teeth
exceedingly large and white.  There was one peculiarity about him which
must not be forgotten: his right arm was withered, and hung down from his
shoulder a thin sapless stick, which contrasted strangely with the huge
brawn of the left.  A figure so perfectly wild and uncouth I had scarcely
ever before seen.  He had now flung aside his cloak, and sat before me
gaunt in his rags and nakedness.  In spite of his appearance, however, he
seemed to be much the most sensible of the two; and the conversation
which ensued was carried on chiefly between him and myself.  This man,
whom I shall call the first Gypsy, was the first to break silence; and he
thus addressed me, speaking in Spanish, broken with words of the Gypsy
tongue:—

_First Gypsy_.—‘Arromáli (in truth), I little thought when I saw the
erraño standing by the door of the posada that I was about to meet a
brother—one too who, though well dressed, was not ashamed to speak to a
poor Gitáno; but tell me, I beg you, brother, from whence you come; I
have heard that you have just arrived from Laloró, but I am sure you are
no Portuguese; the Portuguese are very different from you; I know it, for
I have been in Laloró; I rather take you to be one of the Corahai, for I
have heard say that there is much of our blood there.  You are a
Corahano, are you not?’

_Myself_.—‘I am no Moor, though I have been in the country.  I was born
in an island in the West Sea, called England, which I suppose you have
heard spoken of.’

_First Gypsy_.—‘Yes, yes, I have a right to know something of the
English.  I was born in this foros, and remember the day when the English
hundunares clambered over the walls, and took the town from the Gabiné:
well do I remember that day, though I was but a child; the streets ran
red with blood and wine!  Are there Gitános then amongst the English?’

_Myself_.—‘There are numbers, and so there are amongst most nations of
the world.’

_Second Gypsy_.—‘Vaya!  And do the English Caloré gain their bread in the
same way as those of Spain?  Do they shear and trim?  Do they buy and
change beasts, and (lowering his voice) do they now and then chore a
gras?’ {181}

_Myself_.—‘They do most of these things: the men frequent fairs and
markets with horses, many of which they steal; and the women tell
fortunes and perform all kinds of tricks, by which they gain more money
than their husbands.’

_First Gypsy_.—‘They would not be callees if they did not: I have known a
Gitána gain twenty ounces of gold, by means of the hokkano baro, in a few
hours, whilst the silly Gypsy, her husband, would be toiling with his
shears for a fortnight, trimming the horses of the Busné, and yet not be
a dollar richer at the end of the time.’

_Myself_.—‘You seem wretchedly poor.  Are you married?’

_First Gypsy_.—‘I am, and to the best-looking and cleverest callee in
Badajoz; nevertheless we have never thriven since the day of our
marriage, and a curse seems to rest upon us both.  Perhaps I have only to
thank myself; I was once rich, and had never less than six borricos to
sell or exchange, but the day before my marriage I sold all I possessed,
in order to have a grand fiesta.  For three days we were merry enough; I
entertained every one who chose to come in, and flung away my money by
handfuls, so that when the affair was over I had not a cuarto in the
world; and the very people who had feasted at my expense refused me a
dollar to begin again, so we were soon reduced to the greatest misery.
True it is, that I now and then shear a mule, and my wife tells the bahi
(fortune) to the servant-girls, but these things stand us in little
stead: the people are now very much on the alert, and my wife, with all
her knowledge, has been unable to perform any grand trick which would set
us up at once.  She wished to come to see you, brother, this night, but
was ashamed, as she has no more clothes than myself.  Last summer our
distress was so great that we crossed the frontier into Portugal: my wife
sung, and I played the guitar, for though I have but one arm, and that a
left one, I have never felt the want of the other.  At Estremoz I was
cast into prison as a thief and vagabond, and there I might have remained
till I starved with hunger.  My wife, however, soon got me out: she went
to the lady of the corregidor, to whom she told a most wonderful bahi,
promising treasures and titles, and I wot not what; so I was set at
liberty, and returned to Spain as quick as I could.’

_Myself_.—‘Is it not the custom of the Gypsies of Spain to relieve each
other in distress?—it is the rule in other countries.’

_First Gypsy_.—‘El krallis ha nicobado la liri de los Calés—(The king has
destroyed the law of the Gypsies); we are no longer the people we were
once, when we lived amongst the sierras and deserts, and kept aloof from
the Busné; we have lived amongst the Busné till we are become almost like
them, and we are no longer united, ready to assist each other at all
times and seasons, and very frequently the Gitáno is the worst enemy of
his brother.’

_Myself_.—‘The Gitános, then, no longer wander about, but have fixed
residences in the towns and villages?’

_First Gypsy_.—‘In the summer time a few of us assemble together, and
live about amongst the plains and hills, and by doing so we frequently
contrive to pick up a horse or a mule for nothing, and sometimes we knock
down a Busné, and strip him, but it is seldom we venture so far.  We are
much looked after by the Busné, who hold us in great dread, and abhor us.
Sometimes, when wandering about, we are attacked by the labourers, and
then we defend ourselves as well as we can.  There is no better weapon in
the hands of a Gitáno than his “cachas,” or shears, with which he trims
the mules.  I once snipped off the nose of a Busné, and opened the
greater part of his cheek in an affray up the country near Trujillo.’

_Myself_.—‘Have you travelled much about Spain?’

_First Gypsy_.—‘Very little; I have never been out of this province of
Estremadura, except last year, as I told you, into Portugal.  When we
wander we do not go far, and it is very rare that we are visited by our
brethren of other parts.  I have never been in Andalusia, but I have
heard say that the Gitános are many in Andalusia, and are more wealthy
than those here, and that they follow better the Gypsy law.’

_Myself_.—‘What do you mean by the Gypsy law?’

_First Gypsy_.—‘Wherefore do you ask, brother?  You know what is meant by
the law of the Calés better even than ourselves.’

_Myself_.—‘I know what it is in England and in Hungary, but I can only
give a guess as to what it is in Spain.’

_Both Gypsies_.—‘What do you consider it to be in Spain?’

_Myself_.—‘Cheating and choring the Busné on all occasions, and being
true to the erráte in life and in death.’

At these words both the Gitános sprang simultaneously from their seats,
and exclaimed with a boisterous shout—‘Chachipé.’

This meeting with the Gitános was the occasion of my remaining at Badajoz
a much longer time than I originally intended.  I wished to become better
acquainted with their condition and manners, and above all to speak to
them of Christ and His Word; for I was convinced, that should I travel to
the end of the universe, I should meet with no people more in need of a
little Christian exhortation, and I accordingly continued at Badajoz for
nearly three weeks.

During this time I was almost constantly amongst them, and as I spoke
their language, and was considered by them as one of themselves, I had
better opportunity of arriving at a fair conclusion respecting their
character than any other person could have had, whether Spanish or
foreigner, without such an advantage.  I found that their ways and
pursuits were in almost every respect similar to those of their brethren
in other countries.  By cheating and swindling they gained their daily
bread; the men principally by the arts of the jockey,—by buying, selling,
and exchanging animals, at which they are wonderfully expert; and the
women by telling fortunes, selling goods smuggled from Portugal, and
dealing in love-draughts and diablerie.  The most innocent occupation
which I observed amongst them was trimming and shearing horses and mules,
which in their language is called ‘monrabar,’ and in Spanish ‘esquilar’;
and even whilst exercising this art, they not unfrequently have recourse
to foul play, doing the animal some covert injury, in hope that the
proprietor will dispose of it to themselves at an inconsiderable price,
in which event they soon restore it to health; for knowing how to inflict
the harm, they know likewise how to remove it.

Religion they have none; they never attend mass, nor did I ever hear them
employ the names of God, Christ, and the Virgin, but in execration and
blasphemy.  From what I could learn, it appeared that their fathers had
entertained some belief in metempsychosis; but they themselves laughed at
the idea, and were of opinion that the soul perished when the body ceased
to breathe; and the argument which they used was rational enough, so far
as it impugned metempsychosis: ‘We have been wicked and miserable enough
in this life,’ they said; ‘why should we live again?’

I translated certain portions of Scripture into their dialect, which I
frequently read to them; especially the parable of Lazarus and the
Prodigal Son, and told them that the latter had been as wicked as
themselves, and both had suffered as much or more; but that the
sufferings of the former, who always looked forward to a blessed
resurrection, were recompensed by admission, in the life to come, to the
society of Abraham and the Prophets, and that the latter, when he
repented of his sins, was forgiven, and received into as much favour as
the just son.

They listened with admiration; but, alas! not of the truths, the eternal
truths, I was telling them, but to find that their broken jargon could be
written and read.  The only words denoting anything like assent to my
doctrine which I ever obtained, were the following from the mouth of a
woman: ‘Brother, you tell us strange things, though perhaps you do not
lie; a month since I would sooner have believed these tales, than that
this day I should see one who could write Rommany.’

Two or three days after my arrival, I was again visited by the Gypsy of
the withered arm, who I found was generally termed Paco, which is the
diminutive of Francisco; he was accompanied by his wife, a rather
good-looking young woman with sharp intelligent features, and who
appeared in every respect to be what her husband had represented her on
the former visit.  She was very poorly clad, and notwithstanding the
extreme sharpness of the weather, carried no mantle to protect herself
from its inclemency,—her raven black hair depended behind as far down as
her hips.  Another Gypsy came with them, but not the old fellow whom I
had before seen.  This was a man about forty-five, dressed in a zamarra
of sheep-skin, with a high-crowned Andalusian hat; his complexion was
dark as pepper, and his eyes were full of sullen fire.  In his appearance
he exhibited a goodly compound of Gypsy and bandit.

_Paco_.—‘Laches chibeses te diñele Undebel (May God grant you good days,
brother).  This is my wife, and this is my wife’s father.’

_Myself_.—‘I am glad to see them.  What are their names?’

_Paco_.—‘Maria and Antonio; their other name is Lopez.’

_Myself_.—‘Have they no Gypsy names?’

_Paco_.—‘They have no other names than these.’

_Myself_.—‘Then in this respect the Gitános of Spain are unlike those of
my country.  Every family there has two names; one by which they are
known to the Busné, and another which they use amongst themselves.’

_Antonio_.—‘Give me your hand, brother!  I should have come to see you
before, but I have been to Olivenzas in search of a horse.  What I have
heard of you has filled me with much desire to know you, and I now see
that you can tell me many things which I am ignorant of.  I am Zíncalo by
the four sides—I love our blood, and I hate that of the Busné.  Had I my
will I would wash my face every day in the blood of the Busné, for the
Busné are made only to be robbed and to be slaughtered; but I love the
Caloré, and I love to hear of things of the Caloré, especially from those
of foreign lands; for the Caloré of foreign lands know more than we of
Spain, and more resemble our fathers of old.’

_Myself_.—‘Have you ever met before with Caloré who were not Spaniards?’

_Antonio_.—‘I will tell you, brother.  I served as a soldier in the war
of the independence against the French.  War, it is true, is not the
proper occupation of a Gitáno, but those were strange times, and all
those who could bear arms were compelled to go forth to fight: so I went
with the English armies, and we chased the Gabiné unto the frontier of
France; and it happened once that we joined in desperate battle, and
there was a confusion, and the two parties became intermingled and fought
sword to sword and bayonet to bayonet, and a French soldier singled me
out, and we fought for a long time, cutting, goring, and cursing each
other, till at last we flung down our arms and grappled; long we
wrestled, body to body, but I found that I was the weaker, and I fell.
The French soldier’s knee was on my breast, and his grasp was on my
throat, and he seized his bayonet, and he raised it to thrust me through
the jaws; and his cap had fallen off, and I lifted up my eyes wildly to
his face, and our eyes met, and I gave a loud shriek, and cried Zíncalo,
Zíncalo! and I felt him shudder, and he relaxed his grasp and started up,
and he smote his forehead and wept, and then he came to me and knelt down
by my side, for I was almost dead, and he took my hand and called me
Brother and Zíncalo, and he produced his flask and poured wine into my
mouth, and I revived, and he raised me up, and led me from the concourse,
and we sat down on a knoll, and the two parties were fighting all around,
and he said, “Let the dogs fight, and tear each others’ throats till they
are all destroyed, what matters it to the Zíncali? they are not of our
blood, and shall that be shed for them?”  So we sat for hours on the
knoll and discoursed on matters pertaining to our people; and I could
have listened for years, for he told me secrets which made my ears
tingle, and I soon found that I knew nothing, though I had before
considered myself quite Zíncalo; but as for him, he knew the whole
cuenta; the Bengui Lango {189} himself could have told him nothing but
what he knew.  So we sat till the sun went down and the battle was over,
and he proposed that we should both flee to his own country and live
there with the Zíncali; but my heart failed me; so we embraced, and he
departed to the Gabiné, whilst I returned to our own battalions.’

_Myself_.—‘Do you know from what country he came?’

_Antonio_.—‘He told me that he was a Mayoro.’

_Myself_.—‘You mean a Magyar or Hungarian.’

_Antonio_.—‘Just so; and I have repented ever since that I did not follow
him.’

_Myself_.—‘Why so?’

_Antonio_.—‘I will tell you: the king has destroyed the law of the Calés,
and has put disunion amongst us.  There was a time when the house of
every Zíncalo, however rich, was open to his brother, though he came to
him naked; and it was then the custom to boast of the “erráte.”  It is no
longer so now: those who are rich keep aloof from the rest, will not
speak in Calo, and will have no dealings but with the Busné.  Is there
not a false brother in this foros, the only rich man among us, the swine,
the balichow? he is married to a Busnee and he would fain appear as a
Busno!  Tell me one thing, has he been to see you?  The white blood, I
know he has not; he was afraid to see you, for he knew that by Gypsy law
he was bound to take you to his house and feast you, whilst you remained,
like a prince, like a crallis of the Calés, as I believe you are, even
though he sold the last gras from the stall.  Who have come to see you,
brother?  Have they not been such as Paco and his wife, wretches without
a house, or, at best, one filled with cold and poverty; so that you have
had to stay at a mesuna, at a posada of the Busné; and, moreover, what
have the Calés given you since you have been residing here?  Nothing, I
trow, better than this rubbish, which is all I can offer you, this
Meligrána de los Bengues.’

Here he produced a pomegranate from the pocket of his zamarra, and flung
it on the table with such force that the fruit burst, and the red grains
were scattered on the floor.

The Gitános of Estremadura call themselves in general Chai or Chabos, and
say that their original country was Chal or Egypt.  I frequently asked
them what reason they could assign for calling themselves Egyptians, and
whether they could remember the names of any places in their supposed
fatherland; but I soon found that, like their brethren in other parts of
the world, they were unable to give any rational account of themselves,
and preserved no recollection of the places where their forefathers had
wandered; their language, however, to a considerable extent, solved the
riddle, the bulk of which being Hindui, pointed out India as the
birthplace of their race, whilst the number of Persian, Sclavonian, and
modern Greek words with which it is checkered, spoke plainly as to the
countries through which these singular people had wandered before they
arrived in Spain.

They said that they believed themselves to be Egyptians, because their
fathers before them believed so, who must know much better than
themselves.  They were fond of talking of Egypt and its former greatness,
though it was evident that they knew nothing farther of the country and
its history than what they derived from spurious biblical legends current
amongst the Spaniards; only from such materials could they have composed
the following account of the manner of their expulsion from their native
land.

‘There was a great king in Egypt, and his name was Pharaoh.  He had
numerous armies, with which he made war on all countries, and conquered
them all.  And when he had conquered the entire world, he became sad and
sorrowful; for as he delighted in war, he no longer knew on what to
employ himself.  At last he bethought him on making war on God; so he
sent a defiance to God, daring him to descend from the sky with his
angels, and contend with Pharaoh and his armies; but God said, I will not
measure my strength with that of a man.  But God was incensed against
Pharaoh, and resolved to punish him; and he opened a hole in the side of
an enormous mountain, and he raised a raging wind, and drove before it
Pharaoh and his armies to that hole, and the abyss received them, and the
mountain closed upon them; but whosoever goes to that mountain on the
night of St. John can hear Pharaoh and his armies singing and yelling
therein.  And it came to pass, that when Pharaoh and his armies had
disappeared, all the kings and the nations which had become subject to
Egypt revolted against Egypt, which, having lost her king and her armies,
was left utterly without defence; and they made war against her, and
prevailed against her, and took her people and drove them forth,
dispersing them over all the world.’

So that now, say the Chai, ‘Our horses drink the water of the
Guadiana’—(Apilyela gras Chai la panee Lucalee).


‘THE STEEDS OF THE EGYPTIANS DRINK THE WATERS OF THE GUADIANA


    ‘The region of Chal was our dear native soil,
    Where in fulness of pleasure we lived without toil;
    Till dispersed through all lands, ’twas our fortune to be—
    Our steeds, Guadiana, must now drink of thee.

    ‘Once kings came from far to kneel down at our gate,
    And princes rejoic’d on our meanest to wait;
    But now who so mean but would scorn our degree—
    Our steeds, Guadiana, must now drink of thee.

    ‘For the Undebel saw, from his throne in the cloud,
    That our deeds they were foolish, our hearts they were proud;
    And in anger he bade us his presence to flee—
    Our steeds, Guadiana, must now drink of thee.

    ‘Our horses should drink of no river but one;
    It sparkles through Chal, ’neath the smile of the sun,
    But they taste of all streams save that only, and see—
    Apilyela gras Chai la panee Lucalee.’



CHAPTER II


IN Madrid the Gitános chiefly reside in the neighbourhood of the
‘mercado,’ or the place where horses and other animals are sold,—in two
narrow and dirty lanes, called the Calle de la Comadre and the Callejon
de Lavapies.  It is said that at the beginning of last century Madrid
abounded with these people, who, by their lawless behaviour and dissolute
lives, gave occasion to great scandal; if such were the case, their
numbers must have considerably diminished since that period, as it would
be difficult at any time to collect fifty throughout Madrid.  These
Gitános seem, for the most part, to be either Valencians or of Valencian
origin, as they in general either speak or understand the dialect of
Valencia; and whilst speaking their own peculiar jargon, the Rommany, are
in the habit of making use of many Valencian words and terms.

                            [Picture: Seville]

The manner of life of the Gitános of Madrid differs in no material
respect from that of their brethren in other places.  The men, every
market-day, are to be seen on the skirts of the mercado, generally with
some miserable animal—for example, a foundered mule or galled borrico, by
means of which they seldom fail to gain a dollar or two, either by sale
or exchange.  It must not, however, be supposed that they content
themselves with such paltry earnings.  Provided they have any valuable
animal, which is not unfrequently the case, they invariably keep such at
home snug in the stall, conducting thither the chapman, should they find
any, and concluding the bargain with the greatest secrecy.  Their general
reason for this conduct is an unwillingness to exhibit anything
calculated to excite the jealousy of the chalans, or jockeys of Spanish
blood, who on the slightest umbrage are in the habit of ejecting them
from the fair by force of palos or cudgels, in which violence the chalans
are to a certain extent countenanced by law; for though by the edict of
Carlos the Third the Gitános were in other respects placed upon an
equality with the rest of the Spaniards, they were still forbidden to
obtain their livelihood by the traffic of markets and fairs.

They have occasionally however another excellent reason for not exposing
the animal in the public mercado—having obtained him by dishonest means.
The stealing, concealing, and receiving animals when stolen, are
inveterate Gypsy habits, and are perhaps the last from which the Gitáno
will be reclaimed, or will only cease when the race has become extinct.
In the prisons of Madrid, either in that of the Saladero or De la Corte,
there are never less than a dozen Gitános immured for stolen horses or
mules being found in their possession, which themselves or their
connections have spirited away from the neighbouring villages, or
sometimes from a considerable distance.  I say spirited away, for so well
do the thieves take their measures, and watch their opportunity, that
they are seldom or never taken in the fact.

The Madrilenian Gypsy women are indefatigable in the pursuit of prey,
prowling about the town and the suburbs from morning till night, entering
houses of all descriptions, from the highest to the lowest; telling
fortunes, or attempting to play off various kinds of Gypsy tricks, from
which they derive much greater profit, and of which we shall presently
have occasion to make particular mention.

From Madrid let us proceed to Andalusia, casting a cursory glance on the
Gitános of that country.  I found them very numerous at Granada, which in
the Gitáno language is termed Meligrana.  Their general condition in this
place is truly miserable, far exceeding in wretchedness the state of the
tribes of Estremadura.  It is right to state that Granada itself is the
poorest city in Spain; the greatest part of the population, which exceeds
sixty thousand, living in beggary and nakedness, and the Gitános share in
the general distress.

                  [Picture: The Gypsy Smith of Granada]

Many of them reside in caves scooped in the sides of the ravines which
lead to the higher regions of the Alpujarras, on a skirt of which stands
Granada.  A common occupation of the Gitános of Granada is working in
iron, and it is not unfrequent to find these caves tenanted by Gypsy
smiths and their families, who ply the hammer and forge in the bowels of
the earth.  To one standing at the mouth of the cave, especially at
night, they afford a picturesque spectacle.  Gathered round the forge,
their bronzed and naked bodies, illuminated by the flame, appear like
figures of demons; while the cave, with its flinty sides and uneven roof,
blackened by the charcoal vapours which hover about it in festoons, seems
to offer no inadequate representation of fabled purgatory.  Working in
iron was an occupation strictly forbidden to the Gitános by the ancient
laws, on what account does not exactly appear; though, perhaps, the trade
of the smith was considered as too much akin to that of the chalan to be
permitted to them.  The Gypsy smith of Granada is still a chalan, even as
his brother in England is a jockey and tinker alternately.

Whilst speaking of the Gitános of Granada, we cannot pass by in silence a
tragedy which occurred in this town amongst them, some fifteen years ago,
and the details of which are known to every Gitáno in Spain, from
Catalonia to Estremadura.  We allude to the murder of Pindamonas by Pepe
Conde.  Both these individuals were Gitános; the latter was a celebrated
contrabandista, of whom many remarkable tales are told.  On one occasion,
having committed some enormous crime, he fled over to Barbary and turned
Moor, and was employed by the Moorish emperor in his wars, in company
with the other renegade Spaniards, whose grand depôt or presidio is the
town of Agurey in the kingdom of Fez.  After the lapse of some years,
when his crime was nearly forgotten, he returned to Granada, where he
followed his old occupations of contrabandista and chalan.  Pindamonas
was a Gitáno of considerable wealth, and was considered as the most
respectable of the race at Granada, amongst whom he possessed
considerable influence.  Between this man and Pepe Conde there existed a
jealousy, especially on the part of the latter, who, being a man of proud
untamable spirit, could not well brook a superior amongst his own people.
It chanced one day that Pindamonas and other Gitános, amongst whom was
Pepe Conde, were in a coffee-house.  After they had all partaken of some
refreshment, they called for the reckoning, the amount of which
Pindamonas insisted on discharging.  It will be necessary here to
observe, that on such occasions in Spain it is considered as a species of
privilege to be allowed to pay, which is an honour generally claimed by
the principal man of the party.  Pepe Conde did not fail to take umbrage
at the attempt of Pindamonas, which he considered as an undue assumption
of superiority, and put in his own claim; but Pindamonas insisted, and at
last flung down the money on the table, whereupon Pepe Conde instantly
unclasped one of those terrible Manchegan knives which are generally
carried by the contrabandistas, and with a frightful gash opened the
abdomen of Pindamonas, who presently expired.

            [Picture: The Murder of Pindamonas by Pepe Conde]

After this exploit, Pepe Conde fled, and was not seen for some time.  The
cave, however, in which he had been in the habit of residing was watched,
as a belief was entertained that sooner or later he would return to it,
in the hope of being able to remove some of the property contained in it.
This belief was well founded.  Early one morning he was observed to enter
it, and a band of soldiers was instantly despatched to seize him.  This
circumstance is alluded to in a Gypsy stanza:—

    ‘Fly, Pepe Conde, seek the hill;
       To flee’s thy only chance;
    With bayonets fixed, thy blood to spill,
       See soldiers four advance.’

And before the soldiers could arrive at the cave, Pepe Conde had
discovered their approach and fled, endeavouring to make his escape
amongst the rocks and barrancos of the Alpujarras.  The soldiers
instantly pursued, and the chase continued a considerable time.  The
fugitive was repeatedly summoned to surrender himself, but refusing, the
soldiers at last fired, and four balls entered the heart of the Gypsy
contrabandista and murderer.

Once at Madrid I received a letter from the sister’s son of Pindamonas,
dated from the prison of the Saladero.  In this letter the writer, who it
appears was in durance for stealing a pair of mules, craved my charitable
assistance and advice; and possibly in the hope of securing my favour,
forwarded some uncouth lines commemorative of the death of his relation,
and commencing thus:—

    ‘The death of Pindamonas fill’d all the world with pain;
    At the coffee-house’s portal, by Pepe he was slain.’

The faubourg of Triana, in Seville, has from time immemorial been noted
as a favourite residence of the Gitános; and here, at the present day,
they are to be found in greater number than in any other town in Spain.
This faubourg is indeed chiefly inhabited by desperate characters, as,
besides the Gitános, the principal part of the robber population of
Seville is here congregated.  Perhaps there is no part even of Naples
where crime so much abounds, and the law is so little respected, as at
Triana, the character of whose inmates was so graphically delineated two
centuries and a half back by Cervantes, in one of the most amusing of his
tales. {199}

In the vilest lanes of this suburb, amidst dilapidated walls and ruined
convents, exists the grand colony of Spanish Gitános.  Here they may be
seen wielding the hammer; here they may be seen trimming the fetlocks of
horses, or shearing the backs of mules and borricos with their cachas;
and from hence they emerge to ply the same trade in the town, or to
officiate as terceros, or to buy, sell, or exchange animals in the
mercado, and the women to tell the bahi through the streets, even as in
other parts of Spain, generally attended by one or two tawny bantlings in
their arms or by their sides; whilst others, with baskets and
chafing-pans, proceed to the delightful banks of the Len Baro, {200} by
the Golden Tower, where, squatting on the ground and kindling their
charcoal, they roast the chestnuts which, when well prepared, are the
favourite bonne bouche of the Sevillians; whilst not a few, in league
with the contrabandistas, go from door to door offering for sale
prohibited goods brought from the English at Gibraltar.  Such is Gitáno
life at Seville; such it is in the capital of Andalusia.

      [Picture: Roasting Chestnuts by the side of the Guadalquiver]

It is the common belief of the Gitános of other provinces that in
Andalusia the language, customs, habits, and practices peculiar to their
race are best preserved.  This opinion, which probably originated from
the fact of their being found in greater numbers in this province than in
any other, may hold good in some instances, but certainly not in all.  In
various parts of Spain I have found the Gitános retaining their primitive
language and customs better than in Seville, where they most abound:
indeed, it is not plain that their number has operated at all favourably
in this respect.  At Cordova, a town at the distance of twenty leagues
from Seville, which scarcely contains a dozen Gitáno families, I found
them living in much more brotherly amity, and cherishing in a greater
degree the observances of their forefathers.

I shall long remember these Cordovese Gitános, by whom I was very well
received, but always on the supposition that I was one of their own race.
They said that they never admitted strangers to their houses save at
their marriage festivals, when they flung their doors open to all, and
save occasionally people of influence and distinction, who wished to hear
their songs and converse with their women; but they assured me, at the
same time, that these they invariably deceived, and merely made use of as
instruments to serve their own purposes.  As for myself, I was admitted
without scruple to their private meetings, and was made a participator of
their most secret thoughts.  During our intercourse some remarkable
scenes occurred.  One night more than twenty of us, men and women, were
assembled in a long low room on the ground floor, in a dark alley or
court in the old gloomy town of Cordova.  After the Gitános had discussed
several jockey plans, and settled some private bargains amongst
themselves, we all gathered round a huge brasero of flaming charcoal, and
began conversing _sobre las cosas de Egypto_, when I proposed that, as we
had no better means of amusing ourselves, we should endeavour to turn
into the Calo language some pieces of devotion, that we might see whether
this language, the gradual decay of which I had frequently heard them
lament, was capable of expressing any other matters than those which
related to horses, mules, and Gypsy traffic.  It was in this cautious
manner that I first endeavoured to divert the attention of these singular
people to matters of eternal importance.  My suggestion was received with
acclamations, and we forthwith proceeded to the translation of the
Apostles’ creed.  I first recited in Spanish, in the usual manner and
without pausing, this noble confession, and then repeated it again,
sentence by sentence, the Gitános translating as I proceeded.  They
exhibited the greatest eagerness and interest in their unwonted
occupation, and frequently broke into loud disputes as to the best
rendering—many being offered at the same time.  In the meanwhile, I wrote
down from their dictation; and at the conclusion I read aloud the
translation, the result of the united wisdom of the assembly, whereupon
they all raised a shout of exultation, and appeared not a little proud of
the composition.

The Cordovese Gitános are celebrated esquiladors.  Connected with them
and the exercise of the _arte de esquilar_, in Gypsy monrabar, I have a
curious anecdote to relate.  In the first place, however, it may not be
amiss to say something about the art itself, of all relating to which it
is possible that the reader may be quite ignorant.

Nothing is more deserving of remark in Spanish grooming than the care
exhibited in clipping and trimming various parts of the horse, where the
growth of hair is considered as prejudicial to the perfect health and
cleanliness of the animal, particular attention being always paid to the
pastern, that part of the foot which lies between the fetlock and the
hoof, to guard against the arestin—that cutaneous disorder which is the
dread of the Spanish groom, on which account the services of a skilful
esquilador are continually in requisition.

The esquilador, when proceeding to the exercise of his vocation,
generally carries under his arm a small box containing the instruments
necessary, and which consist principally of various pairs of scissors,
and the _aciál_, two short sticks tied together with whipcord at the end,
by means of which the lower lip of the horse, should he prove restive, is
twisted, and the animal reduced to speedy subjection.  In the girdle of
the esquilador are stuck the large scissors called in Spanish _tijeras_,
and in the Gypsy tongue _cachas_, with which he principally works.  He
operates upon the backs, ears, and tails of mules and borricos, which are
invariably sheared quite bare, that if the animals are galled, either by
their harness or the loads which they carry, the wounds may be less
liable to fester, and be more easy to cure.  Whilst engaged with horses,
he confines himself to the feet and ears.  The esquiladores in the two
Castiles, and in those provinces where the Gitános do not abound, are for
the most part Aragonese; but in the others, and especially in Andalusia,
they are of the Gypsy race.  The Gitános are in general very expert in
the use of the cachas, which they handle in a manner practised nowhere
but in Spain; and with this instrument the poorer class principally
obtain their bread.

In one of their couplets allusion is made to this occupation in the
following manner:—

    ‘I’ll rise to-morrow bread to earn,
       For hunger’s worn me grim;
    Of all I meet I’ll ask in turn,
       If they’ve no beasts to trim.’

Sometimes, whilst shearing the foot of a horse, exceedingly small
scissors are necessary for the purpose of removing fine solitary hairs;
for a Spanish groom will tell you that a horse’s foot behind ought to be
kept as clean and smooth as the hand of a señora: such scissors can only
be procured at Madrid.  My sending two pair of this kind to a Cordovese
Gypsy, from whom I had experienced much attention whilst in that city,
was the occasion of my receiving a singular epistle from another whom I
scarcely knew, and which I shall insert as being an original Gypsy
composition, and in some points not a little characteristic of the people
of whom I am now writing.

                                      ‘Cordova, 20th day of January, 1837.

    ‘SEÑOR DON JORGE,

    ‘After saluting you and hoping that you are well, I proceed to tell
    you that the two pair of scissors arrived at this town of Cordova
    with him whom you sent them by; but, unfortunately, they were given
    to another Gypsy, whom you neither knew nor spoke to nor saw in your
    life; for it chanced that he who brought them was a friend of mine,
    and he told me that he had brought two pair of scissors which an
    Englishman had given him for the Gypsies; whereupon I, understanding
    it was yourself, instantly said to him, “Those scissors are for me”;
    he told me, however, that he had already given them to another, and
    he is a Gypsy who was not even in Cordova during the time you were.
    Nevertheless, Don Jorge, I am very grateful for your thus remembering
    me, although I did not receive your present, and in order that you
    may know who I am, my name is Antonio Salazar, a man pitted with the
    small-pox, and the very first who spoke to you in Cordova in the
    posada where you were; and you told me to come and see you next day
    at eleven, and I went, and we conversed together alone.  Therefore I
    should wish you to do me the favour to send me scissors for trimming
    beasts,—good scissors, mind you,—such would be a very great favour,
    and I should be ever grateful, for here in Cordova there are none, or
    if there be, they are good for nothing.  Señor Don Jorge, you
    remember I told you that I was an esquilador by trade, and only by
    that I got bread for my babes.  Señor Don Jorge, if you do send me
    the scissors for trimming, pray write and direct to the alley De la
    Londiga, No. 28, to Antonio Salazar, in Cordova.  This is what I have
    to tell you, and do you ever command your trusty servant, who kisses
    your hand and is eager to serve you.

                                                        ‘ANTONIO SALAZAR.’

                                FIRST COUPLET

    ‘That I may clip and trim the beasts, a pair of cachas grant,
    If not, I fear my luckless babes will perish all of want.’

                                SECOND COUPLET

    ‘If thou a pair of cachas grant, that I my babes may feed,
    I’ll pray to the Almighty God, that thee he ever speed.’

It is by no means my intention to describe the exact state and condition
of the Gitános in every town and province where they are to be found;
perhaps, indeed, it will be considered that I have already been more
circumstantial and particular than the case required.  The other
districts which they inhabit are principally those of Catalonia, Murcia,
and Valencia; and they are likewise to be met with in the Basque
provinces, where they are called Egipcioac, or Egyptians.  What I next
purpose to occupy myself with are some general observations on the
habits, and the physical and moral state of the Gitános throughout Spain,
and of the position which they hold in society.



CHAPTER III


ALREADY, from the two preceding chapters, it will have been perceived
that the condition of the Gitános in Spain has been subjected of late to
considerable modification.  The words of the Gypsy of Badajoz are indeed,
in some respects, true; they are no longer the people that they were; the
roads and ‘despoblados’ have ceased to be infested by them, and the
traveller is no longer exposed to much danger on their account; they at
present confine themselves, for the most part, to towns and villages, and
if they occasionally wander abroad, it is no longer in armed bands,
formidable for their numbers, and carrying terror and devastation in all
directions, bivouacking near solitary villages, and devouring the
substance of the unfortunate inhabitants, or occasionally threatening
even large towns, as in the singular case of Logroño, mentioned by
Francisco de Cordova.  As the reader will probably wish to know the cause
of this change in the lives and habits of these people, we shall, as
briefly as possible, afford as much information on the subject as the
amount of our knowledge will permit.

One fact has always struck us with particular force in the history of
these people, namely, that Gitanismo—which means Gypsy villainy of every
description—flourished and knew nothing of decay so long as the laws
recommended and enjoined measures the most harsh and severe for the
suppression of the Gypsy sect; the palmy days of Gitanismo were those in
which the caste was proscribed, and its members, in the event of
renouncing their Gypsy habits, had nothing farther to expect than the
occupation of tilling the earth, a dull hopeless toil; then it was that
the Gitános paid tribute to the inferior ministers of justice, and were
engaged in illicit connection with those of higher station, and by such
means baffled the law, whose vengeance rarely fell upon their heads; and
then it was that they bid it open defiance, retiring to the deserts and
mountains, and living in wild independence by rapine and shedding of
blood; for as the law then stood they would lose all by resigning their
Gitanismo, whereas by clinging to it they lived either in the
independence so dear to them, or beneath the protection of their
confederates.  It would appear that in proportion as the law was harsh
and severe, so was the Gitáno bold and secure.  The fiercest of these
laws was the one of Philip the Fifth, passed in the year 1745, which
commands that the refractory Gitános be hunted down with fire and sword;
that it was quite inefficient is satisfactorily proved by its being twice
reiterated, once in the year ‘46, and again in ‘49, which would scarcely
have been deemed necessary had it quelled the Gitános.  This law, with
some unimportant modifications, continued in force till the year ‘83,
when the famous edict of Carlos Tercero superseded it.  Will any feel
disposed to doubt that the preceding laws had served to foster what they
were intended to suppress, when we state the remarkable fact, that since
the enactment of that law, as humane as the others were unjust, _we have
heard nothing more of the Gitános from official quarters_; _they have
ceased to play a distinct part in the history of Spain_; _and the law no
longer speaks of them as a distinct people_?  The caste of the Gitáno
still exists, but it is neither so extensive nor so formidable as a
century ago, when the law in denouncing Gitanismo proposed to the Gitános
the alternatives of death for persisting in their profession, or slavery
for abandoning it.

There are fierce and discontented spirits amongst them, who regret such
times, and say that Gypsy law is now no more, that the Gypsy no longer
assists his brother, and that union has ceased among them.  If this be
true, can better proof be adduced of the beneficial working of the later
law?  A blessing has been conferred on society, and in a manner highly
creditable to the spirit of modern times; reform has been accomplished,
not by persecution, not by the gibbet and the rack, but by justice and
tolerance.  The traveller has flung aside his cloak, not compelled by the
angry buffeting of the north wind, but because the mild, benignant
weather makes such a defence no longer necessary.  The law no longer
compels the Gitános to stand back to back, on the principal of mutual
defence, and to cling to Gitanismo to escape from servitude and thraldom.

Taking everything into consideration, and viewing the subject in all its
bearings with an impartial glance, we are compelled to come to the
conclusion that the law of Carlos Tercero, the provisions of which were
distinguished by justice and clemency, has been the principal if not the
only cause of the decline of Gitanismo in Spain.  Some importance ought
to be attached to the opinion of the Gitános themselves on this point.
‘El Crallis ha nicobado la liri de los Cales,’ is a proverbial saying
among them.  By Crallis, or King, they mean Carlos Tercero, so that the
saying, the proverbial saying, may be thus translated: _The Law of Carlos
Tercero has superseded Gypsy Law_.

By the law the schools are open to them, and there is no art or science
which they may not pursue, if they are willing.  Have they availed
themselves of the rights which the law has conferred upon them?

Up to the present period but little—they still continue jockeys and
blacksmiths; but some of these Gypsy chalans, these bronzed smiths, these
wild-looking esquiladors, can read or write in the proportion of one man
in three or four; what more can be expected?  Would you have the Gypsy
bantling, born in filth and misery, ‘midst mules and borricos, amidst the
mud of a choza or the sand of a barranco, grasp with its swarthy hands
the crayon and easel, the compass, or the microscope, or the tube which
renders more distinct the heavenly orbs, and essay to become a Murillo,
or a Feijoo, or a Lorenzo de Hervas, as soon as the legal disabilities
are removed which doomed him to be a thievish jockey or a sullen
husbandman?  Much will have been accomplished, if, after the lapse of a
hundred years, one hundred human beings shall have been evolved from the
Gypsy stock, who shall prove sober, honest, and useful members of
society,—that stock so degraded, so inveterate in wickedness and evil
customs, and so hardened by brutalising laws.  Should so many beings,
should so many souls be rescued from temporal misery and eternal woe;
should only the half of that number, should only the tenth, nay, should
only one poor wretched sheep be saved, there will be joy in heaven, for
much will have been accomplished on earth, and those lines will have been
in part falsified which filled the stout heart of Mahmoud with dismay:—

    ‘For the root that’s unclean, hope if you can;
    No washing e’er whitens the black Zigan:
    The tree that’s bitter by birth and race,
    If in paradise garden to grow you place,
    And water it free with nectar and wine,
    From streams in paradise meads that shine,
    At the end its nature it still declares,
    For bitter is all the fruit it bears.
    If the egg of the raven of noxious breed
    You place ‘neath the paradise bird, and feed
    The splendid fowl upon its nest,
    With immortal figs, the food of the blest,
    And give it to drink from Silisbél, {211}
    Whilst life in the egg breathes Gabriél,
    A raven, a raven, the egg shall bear,
    And the fostering bird shall waste its care.’—

                                                                 FERDOUSI.

The principal evidence which the Gitános have hitherto given that a
partial reformation has been effected in their habits, is the
relinquishment, in a great degree, of that wandering life of which the
ancient laws were continually complaining, and which was the cause of
infinite evils, and tended not a little to make the roads insecure.

Doubtless there are those who will find some difficulty in believing that
the mild and conciliatory clauses of the law in question could have much
effect in weaning the Gitános from this inveterate habit, and will be
more disposed to think that this relinquishment was effected by energetic
measures resorted to by the government, to compel them to remain in their
places of location.  It does not appear, however, that such measures were
ever resorted to.  Energy, indeed, in the removal of a nuisance, is
scarcely to be expected from Spaniards under any circumstances.  All we
can say on the subject, with certainty, is, that since the repeal of the
tyrannical laws, wandering has considerably decreased among the Gitános.

Since the law has ceased to brand them, they have come nearer to the
common standard of humanity, and their general condition has been
ameliorated.  At present, only the very poorest, the parias of the race,
are to be found wandering about the heaths and mountains, and this only
in the summer time, and their principal motive, according to their own
confession, is to avoid the expense of house rent; the rest remain at
home, following their avocations, unless some immediate prospect of gain,
lawful or unlawful, calls them forth; and such is frequently the case.
They attend most fairs, women and men, and on the way frequently bivouac
in the fields, but this practice must not be confounded with systematic
wandering.

Gitanismo, therefore, has not been extinguished, only modified; but that
modification has been effected within the memory of man, whilst
previously near four centuries elapsed, during which no reform had been
produced amongst them by the various measures devised, all of which were
distinguished by an absence not only of true policy, but of common-sense;
it is therefore to be hoped, that if the Gitános are abandoned to
themselves, by which we mean no arbitrary laws are again enacted for
their extinction, the sect will eventually cease to be, and its members
become confounded with the residue of the population; for certainly no
Christian nor merely philanthropic heart can desire the continuance of
any sect or association of people whose fundamental principle seems to be
to hate all the rest of mankind, and to live by deceiving them; and such
is the practice of the Gitános.

During the last five years, owing to the civil wars, the ties which unite
society have been considerably relaxed; the law has been trampled under
foot, and the greatest part of Spain overrun with robbers and miscreants,
who, under pretence of carrying on partisan warfare, and not unfrequently
under no pretence at all, have committed the most frightful excesses,
plundering and murdering the defenceless.  Such a state of things would
have afforded the Gitános a favourable opportunity to resume their former
kind of life, and to levy contributions as formerly, wandering about in
bands.  Certain it is, however, that they have not sought to repeat their
ancient excesses, taking advantage of the troubles of the country; they
have gone on, with a few exceptions, quietly pursuing that part of their
system to which they still cling, their jockeyism, which, though based on
fraud and robbery, is far preferable to wandering brigandage, which
necessarily involves the frequent shedding of blood.  Can better proof be
adduced, that Gitanismo owes its decline, in Spain, not to force, not to
persecution, not to any want of opportunity of exercising it, but to some
other cause?—and we repeat that we consider the principal if not the only
cause of the decline of Gitanismo to be the conferring on the Gitános the
rights and privileges of other subjects.

We have said that the Gitános have not much availed themselves of the
permission, which the law grants them, of embarking in various spheres of
life.  They remain jockeys, but they have ceased to be wanderers; and the
grand object of the law is accomplished.  The law forbids them to be
jockeys, or to follow the trade of trimming and shearing animals, without
some other visible mode of subsistence.  This provision, except in a few
isolated instances, they evade; and the law seeks not, and perhaps
wisely, to disturb them, content with having achieved so much.  The chief
evils of Gitanismo which still remain consist in the systematic frauds of
the Gypsy jockeys and the tricks of the women.  It is incurring
considerable risk to purchase a horse or a mule, even from the most
respectable Gitáno, without a previous knowledge of the animal and his
former possessor, the chances being that it is either diseased or stolen
from a distance.  Of the practices of the females, something will be said
in particular in a future chapter.

The Gitános in general are very poor, a pair of large cachas and various
scissors of a smaller description constituting their whole capital;
occasionally a good hit is made, as they call it, but the money does not
last long, being quickly squandered in feasting and revelry.  He who has
habitually in his house a couple of donkeys is considered a thriving
Gitáno; there are some, however, who are wealthy in the strict sense of
the word, and carry on a very extensive trade in horses and mules.
These, occasionally, visit the most distant fairs, traversing the
greatest part of Spain.  There is a celebrated cattle-fair held at Leon
on St. John’s or Midsummer Day, and on one of these occasions, being
present, I observed a small family of Gitános, consisting of a man of
about fifty, a female of the same age, and a handsome young Gypsy, who
was their son; they were richly dressed after the Gypsy fashion, the men
wearing zamarras with massy clasps and knobs of silver, and the woman a
species of riding-dress with much gold embroidery, and having immense
gold rings attached to her ears.  They came from Murcia, a distance of
one hundred leagues and upwards.  Some merchants, to whom I was
recommended, informed me that they had credit on their house to the
amount of twenty thousand dollars.

They experienced rough treatment in the fair, and on a very singular
account: immediately on their appearing on the ground, the horses in the
fair, which, perhaps, amounted to three thousand, were seized with a
sudden and universal panic; it was one of those strange incidents for
which it is difficult to assign a rational cause; but a panic there was
amongst the brutes, and a mighty one; the horses neighed, screamed, and
plunged, endeavouring to escape in all directions; some appeared
absolutely possessed, stamping and tearing, their manes and tails stiffly
erect, like the bristles of the wild boar—many a rider lost his seat.
When the panic had ceased, and it did cease almost as suddenly as it had
arisen, the Gitános were forthwith accused as the authors of it; it was
said that they intended to steal the best horses during the confusion,
and the keepers of the ground, assisted by a rabble of chalans, who had
their private reasons for hating the Gitános, drove them off the field
with sticks and cudgels.  So much for having a bad name.

These wealthy Gitános, when they are not ashamed of their blood or
descent, and are not addicted to proud fancies, or ‘barbales,’ as they
are called, possess great influence with the rest of their brethren,
almost as much as the rabbins amongst the Jews; their bidding is
considered law, and the other Gitános are at their devotion.  On the
contrary, when they prefer the society of the Busné to that of their own
race, and refuse to assist their less fortunate brethren in poverty or in
prison, they are regarded with unbounded contempt and abhorrence, as in
the case of the rich Gypsy of Badajoz, and are not unfrequently doomed to
destruction: such characters are mentioned in their couplets:—

    ‘The Gypsy fiend of Manga mead,
       Who never gave a straw,
    He would destroy, for very greed,
       The good Egyptian law.

    ‘The false Juanito day and night
       Had best with caution go;
    The Gypsy carles of Yeira height
       Have sworn to lay him low.’

However some of the Gitános may complain that there is no longer union to
be found amongst them, there is still much of that fellow-feeling which
springs from a consciousness of proceeding from one common origin, or, as
they love to term it, ‘blood.’  At present their system exhibits less of
a commonwealth than when they roamed in bands amongst the wilds, and
principally subsisted by foraging, each individual contributing to the
common stock, according to his success.  The interests of individuals are
now more distinct, and that close connection is of course dissolved which
existed when they wandered about, and their dangers, gains, and losses
were felt in common; and it can never be too often repeated that they are
no longer a proscribed race, with no rights nor safety save what they
gained by a close and intimate union.  Nevertheless, the Gitáno, though
he naturally prefers his own interest to that of his brother, and envies
him his gain when he does not expect to share in it, is at all times
ready to side with him against the Busno, because the latter is not a
Gitáno, but of a different blood, and for no other reason.  When one
Gitáno confides his plans to another, he is in no fear that they will be
betrayed to the Busno, for whom there is no sympathy, and when a plan is
to be executed which requires co-operation, they seek not the fellowship
of the Busné, but of each other, and if successful, share the gain like
brothers.

As a proof of the fraternal feeling which is not unfrequently displayed
amongst the Gitános, I shall relate a circumstance which occurred at
Cordova a year or two before I first visited it.  One of the poorest of
the Gitános murdered a Spaniard with the fatal Manchegan knife; for this
crime he was seized, tried, and found guilty.  Blood-shedding in Spain is
not looked upon with much abhorrence, and the life of the culprit is
seldom taken, provided he can offer a bribe sufficient to induce the
notary public to report favourably upon his case; but in this instance
money was of no avail; the murdered individual left behind him powerful
friends and connections, who were determined that justice should take its
course.  It was in vain that the Gitános exerted all their influence with
the authorities in behalf of their comrade, and such influence was not
slight; it was in vain that they offered extravagant sums that the
punishment of death might be commuted to perpetual slavery in the dreary
presidio of Ceuta; I was credibly informed that one of the richest
Gitános, by name Fruto, offered for his own share of the ransom the sum
of five thousand crowns, whilst there was not an individual but
contributed according to his means—nought availed, and the Gypsy was
executed in the Plaza.  The day before the execution, the Gitános,
perceiving that the fate of their brother was sealed, one and all quitted
Cordova, shutting up their houses and carrying with them their horses,
their mules, their borricos, their wives and families, and the greatest
part of their household furniture.  No one knew whither they directed
their course, nor were they seen in Cordova for some months, when they
again suddenly made their appearance; a few, however, never returned.  So
great was the horror of the Gitános at what had occurred, that they were
in the habit of saying that the place was cursed for evermore; and when I
knew them, there were many amongst them who, on no account, would enter
the Plaza which had witnessed the disgraceful end of their unfortunate
brother.

The position which the Gitános hold in society in Spain is the lowest, as
might be expected; they are considered at best as thievish chalans, and
the women as half sorceresses, and in every respect thieves; there is not
a wretch, however vile, the outcast of the prison and the presidio, who
calls himself Spaniard, but would feel insulted by being termed Gitáno,
and would thank God that he is not; and yet, strange to say, there are
numbers, and those of the higher classes, who seek their company, and
endeavour to imitate their manners and way of speaking.  The connections
which they form with the Spaniards are not many; occasionally some
wealthy Gitáno marries a Spanish female, but to find a Gitána united to a
Spaniard is a thing of the rarest occurrence, if it ever takes place.  It
is, of course, by intermarriage alone that the two races will ever
commingle, and before that event is brought about, much modification must
take place amongst the Gitános, in their manners, in their habits, in
their affections, and their dislikes, and, perhaps, even in their
physical peculiarities; much must be forgotten on both sides, and
everything is forgotten in the course of time.

The number of the Gitáno population of Spain at the present day may be
estimated at about forty thousand.  At the commencement of the present
century it was said to amount to sixty thousand.  There can be no doubt
that the sect is by no means so numerous as it was at former periods;
witness those barrios in various towns still denominated Gitánerias, but
from whence the Gitános have disappeared even like the Moors from the
Morerias.  Whether this diminution in number has been the result of a
partial change of habits, of pestilence or sickness, of war or famine, or
of all these causes combined, we have no means of determining, and shall
abstain from offering conjectures on the subject.



CHAPTER IV


IN the autumn of the year 1839, I landed at Tarifa, from the coast of
Barbary.  I arrived in a small felouk laden with hides for Cadiz, to
which place I was myself going.  We stopped at Tarifa in order to perform
quarantine, which, however, turned out a mere farce, as we were all
permitted to come on shore; the master of the felouk having bribed the
port captain with a few fowls.  We formed a motley group.  A rich Moor
and his son, a child, with their Jewish servant Yusouf, and myself with
my own man Hayim Ben Attar, a Jew.  After passing through the gate, the
Moors and their domestics were conducted by the master to the house of
one of his acquaintance, where he intended they should lodge; whilst a
sailor was despatched with myself and Hayim to the only inn which the
place afforded.  I stopped in the street to speak to a person whom I had
known at Seville.  Before we had concluded our discourse, Hayim, who had
walked forward, returned, saying that the quarters were good, and that we
were in high luck, for that he knew the people of the inn were Jews.
‘Jews,’ said I, ‘here in Tarifa, and keeping an inn, I should be glad to
see them.’  So I left my acquaintance, and hastened to the house.  We
first entered a stable, of which the ground floor of the building
consisted, and ascending a flight of stairs entered a very large room,
and from thence passed into a kitchen, in which were several people.  One
of these was a stout, athletic, burly fellow of about fifty, dressed in a
buff jerkin, and dark cloth pantaloons.  His hair was black as a coal and
exceedingly bushy, his face much marked from some disorder, and his skin
as dark as that of a toad.  A very tall woman stood by the dresser, much
resembling him in feature, with the same hair and complexion, but with
more intelligence in her eyes than the man, who looked heavy and dogged.
A dark woman, whom I subsequently discovered to be lame, sat in a corner,
and two or three swarthy girls, from fifteen to eighteen years of age,
were flitting about the room.  I also observed a wicked-looking boy, who
might have been called handsome, had not one of his eyes been injured.
‘Jews,’ said I, in Moorish, to Hayim, as I glanced at these people and
about the room; ‘these are not Jews, but children of the Dar-bushi-fal.’

                        [Picture: A Gypsy Family]

‘List to the Corahai,’ said the tall woman, in broken Gypsy slang, ‘hear
how they jabber (hunelad como chamulian), truly we will make them pay for
the noise they raise in the house.’  Then coming up to me, she demanded
with a shout, fearing otherwise that I should not understand, whether I
would not wish to see the room where I was to sleep.  I nodded: whereupon
she led me out upon a back terrace, and opening the door of a small room,
of which there were three, asked me if it would suit.  ‘Perfectly,’ said
I, and returned with her to the kitchen.

‘O, what a handsome face! what a royal person!’ exclaimed the whole
family as I returned, in Spanish, but in the whining, canting tones
peculiar to the Gypsies, when they are bent on victimising.  ‘A more ugly
Busno it has never been our chance to see,’ said the same voices in the
next breath, speaking in the jargon of the tribe.  ‘Won’t your Moorish
Royalty please to eat something?’ said the tall hag.  ‘We have nothing in
the house; but I will run out and buy a fowl, which I hope may prove a
royal peacock to nourish and strengthen you.’  ‘I hope it may turn to
drow in your entrails,’ she muttered to the rest in Gypsy.  She then ran
down, and in a minute returned with an old hen, which, on my arrival, I
had observed below in the stable.  ‘See this beautiful fowl,’ said she,
‘I have been running over all Tarifa to procure it for your kingship;
trouble enough I have had to obtain it, and dear enough it has cost me.
I will now cut its throat.’  ‘Before you kill it,’ said I, ‘I should wish
to know what you paid for it, that there may be no dispute about it in
the account.’  ‘Two dollars I paid for it, most valorous and handsome
sir; two dollars it cost me, out of my own quisobi—out of my own little
purse.’  I saw it was high time to put an end to these zalamerias, and
therefore exclaimed in Gitáno, ‘You mean two brujis (reals), O mother of
all the witches, and that is twelve cuartos more than it is worth.’  ‘Ay
Dios mio, whom have we here?’ exclaimed the females.  ‘One,’ I replied,
‘who knows you well and all your ways.  Speak! am I to have the hen for
two reals? if not, I shall leave the house this moment.’  ‘O yes, to be
sure, brother, and for nothing if you wish it,’ said the tall woman, in
natural and quite altered tones; ‘but why did you enter the house
speaking in Corahai like a Bengui?  We thought you a Busno, but we now
see that you are of our religion; pray sit down and tell us where you
have been.’ . .

_Myself_.—‘Now, my good people, since I have answered your questions, it
is but right that you should answer some of mine; pray who are you? and
how happens it that you are keeping this inn?’

_Gypsy Hag_.—‘Verily, brother, we can scarcely tell you who we are.  All
we know of ourselves is, that we keep this inn, to our trouble and
sorrow, and that our parents kept it before us; we were all born in this
house, where I suppose we shall die.’

_Myself_.—‘Who is the master of the house, and whose are these children?’

_Gypsy Hag_.—‘The master of the house is the fool, my brother, who stands
before you without saying a word; to him belong these children, and the
cripple in the chair is his wife, and my cousin.  He has also two sons
who are grown-up men; one is a chumajarri (shoemaker), and the other
serves a tanner.’

_Myself_.—‘Is it not contrary to the law of the Cales to follow such
trades?’

_Gypsy Hag_.—‘We know of no law, and little of the Cales themselves.
Ours is the only Calo family in Tarifa, and we never left it in our
lives, except occasionally to go on the smuggling lay to Gibraltar.  True
it is that the Cales, when they visit Tarifa, put up at our house,
sometimes to our cost.  There was one Rafael, son of the rich Fruto of
Cordova, here last summer, to buy up horses, and he departed a baria and
a half in our debt; however, I do not grudge it him, for he is a handsome
and clever Chabó—a fellow of many capacities.  There was more than one
Busno had cause to rue his coming to Tarifa.’

_Myself_.—‘Do you live on good terms with the Busné of Tarifa?’

_Gypsy Hag_.—‘Brother, we live on the best terms with the Busné of
Tarifa; especially with the errays.  The first people in Tarifa come to
this house, to have their baji told by the cripple in the chair and by
myself.  I know not how it is, but we are more considered by the grandees
than the poor, who hate and loathe us.  When my first and only infant
died, for I have been married, the child of one of the principal people
was put to me to nurse, but I hated it for its white blood, as you may
well believe.  It never throve, for I did it a private mischief, and
though it grew up and is now a youth, it is—mad.’

_Myself_.—‘With whom will your brother’s children marry?  You say there
are no Gypsies here.’

_Gypsy Hag_.—‘Ay de mi, hermano!  It is that which grieves me.  I would
rather see them sold to the Moors than married to the Busné.  When Rafael
was here he wished to persuade the chumajarri to accompany him to
Cordova, and promised to provide for him, and to find him a wife among
the Callees of that town; but the faint heart would not, though I myself
begged him to comply.  As for the curtidor (tanner), he goes every night
to the house of a Busnee; and once, when I reproached him with it, he
threatened to marry her.  I intend to take my knife, and to wait behind
the door in the dark, and when she comes out to gash her over the eyes.
I trow he will have little desire to wed with her then.’

_Myself_.—‘Do many Busné from the country put up at this house?’

_Gypsy Hag_.—‘Not so many as formerly, brother; the labourers from the
Campo say that we are all thieves; and that it is impossible for any one
but a Calo to enter this house without having the shirt stripped from his
back.  They go to the houses of their acquaintance in the town, for they
fear to enter these doors.  I scarcely know why, for my brother is the
veriest fool in Tarifa.  Were it not for his face, I should say that he
is no Chabó, for he cannot speak, and permits every chance to slip
through his fingers.  Many a good mule and borrico have gone out of the
stable below, which he might have secured, had he but tongue enough to
have cozened the owners.  But he is a fool, as I said before; he cannot
speak, and is no Chabó.’

How far the person in question, who sat all the while smoking his pipe,
with the most unperturbed tranquillity, deserved the character bestowed
upon him by his sister, will presently appear.  It is not my intention to
describe here all the strange things I both saw and heard in this Gypsy
inn.  Several Gypsies arrived from the country during the six days that I
spent within its walls; one of them, a man, from Moron, was received with
particular cordiality, he having a son, whom he was thinking of
betrothing to one of the Gypsy daughters.  Some females of quality
likewise visited the house to gossip, like true Andalusians.  It was
singular to observe the behaviour of the Gypsies to these people,
especially that of the remarkable woman, some of whose conversation I
have given above.  She whined, she canted, she blessed, she talked of
beauty of colour, of eyes, of eyebrows, and pestañas (eyelids), and of
hearts which were aching for such and such a lady.  Amongst others, came
a very fine woman, the widow of a colonel lately slain in battle; she
brought with her a beautiful innocent little girl, her daughter, between
three and four years of age.  The Gypsy appeared to adore her; she
sobbed, she shed tears, she kissed the child, she blessed it, she fondled
it.  I had my eye upon her countenance, and it brought to my recollection
that of a she-wolf, which I had once seen in Russia, playing with her
whelp beneath a birch-tree.  ‘You seem to love that child very much, O my
mother,’ said I to her, as the lady was departing.

_Gypsy Hag_.—‘No lo camélo, hijo!  I do not love it, O my son, I do not
love it; I love it so much, that I wish it may break its leg as it goes
downstairs, and its mother also.’

On the evening of the fourth day, I was seated on the stone bench at the
stable door, taking the fresco; the Gypsy innkeeper sat beside me,
smoking his pipe, and silent as usual; presently a man and woman with a
borrico, or donkey, entered the portal.  I took little or no notice of a
circumstance so slight, but I was presently aroused by hearing the
Gypsy’s pipe drop upon the ground.  I looked at him, and scarcely
recognised his face.  It was no longer dull, black, and heavy, but was
lighted up with an expression so extremely villainous that I felt uneasy.
His eyes were scanning the recent comers, especially the beast of burden,
which was a beautiful female donkey.  He was almost instantly at their
side, assisting to remove its housings, and the alforjas, or bags.  His
tongue had become unloosed, as if by sorcery; and far from being unable
to speak, he proved that, when it suited his purpose, he could discourse
with wonderful volubility.  The donkey was soon tied to the manger, and a
large measure of barley emptied before it, the greatest part of which the
Gypsy boy presently removed, his father having purposely omitted to mix
the barley with the straw, with which the Spanish mangers are always kept
filled.  The guests were hurried upstairs as soon as possible.  I
remained below, and subsequently strolled about the town and on the
beach.  It was about nine o’clock when I returned to the inn to retire to
rest; strange things had evidently been going on during my absence.  As I
passed through the large room on my way to my apartment, lo, the table
was set out with much wine, fruits, and viands.  There sat the man from
the country, three parts intoxicated; the Gypsy, already provided with
another pipe, sat on his knee, with his right arm most affectionately
round his neck; on one side sat the chumajarri drinking and smoking, on
the other the tanner.  Behold, poor humanity, thought I to myself, in the
hands of devils; in this manner are human souls ensnared to destruction
by the fiends of the pit.  The females had already taken possession of
the woman at the other end of the table, embracing her, and displaying
every mark of friendship and affection.  I passed on, but ere I reached
my apartment I heard the words mule and donkey.  ‘Adios,’ said I, for I
but too well knew what was on the carpet.

In the back stable the Gypsy kept a mule, a most extraordinary animal,
which was employed in bringing water to the house, a task which it
effected with no slight difficulty; it was reported to be eighteen years
of age; one of its eyes had been removed by some accident, it was
foundered, and also lame, the result of a broken leg.  This animal was
the laughing-stock of all Tarifa; the Gypsy grudged it the very straw on
while alone he fed it, and had repeatedly offered it for sale at a
dollar, which he could never obtain.  During the night there was much
merriment going on, and I could frequently distinguish the voice of the
Gypsy raised to a boisterous pitch.  In the morning the Gypsy hag entered
my apartment, bearing the breakfast of myself and Hayim.  ‘What were you
about last night?’ said I.

‘We were bargaining with the Busno, evil overtake him, and he has
exchanged us the ass, for the mule and the reckoning,’ said the hag, in
whose countenance triumph was blended with anxiety.

‘Was he drunk when he saw the mule?’ I demanded.

‘He did not see her at all, O my son, but we told him we had a beautiful
mule, worth any money, which we were anxious to dispose of, as a donkey
suited our purpose better.  We are afraid that when he sees her he will
repent his bargain, and if he calls off within four-and-twenty hours, the
exchange is null, and the justicia will cause us to restore the ass; we
have, however, already removed her to our huérta out of the town, where
we have hid her below the ground.  Dios sabe (God knows) how it will turn
out.’

When the man and woman saw the lame, foundered, one-eyed creature, for
which and the reckoning they had exchanged their own beautiful borrico,
they stood confounded.  It was about ten in the morning, and they had not
altogether recovered from the fumes of the wine of the preceding night;
at last the man, with a frightful oath, exclaimed to the innkeeper,
‘Restore my donkey, you Gypsy villain!’

‘It cannot be, brother,’ replied the latter, ‘your donkey is by this time
three leagues from here: I sold her this morning to a man I do not know,
and I am afraid I shall have a hard bargain with her, for he only gave
two dollars, as she was unsound.  O, you have taken me in, I am a poor
fool as they call me here, and you understand much, very much, baribu.’
{230}

‘Her value was thirty-five dollars, thou demon,’ said the countryman,
‘and the justicia will make you pay that.’

‘Come, come, brother,’ said the Gypsy, ‘all this is mere conversation;
you have a capital bargain, to-day the mercado is held, and you shall
sell the mule; I will go with you myself.  O, you understand baribu;
sister, bring the bottle of anise; the señor and the señora must drink a
copíta.’  After much persuasion, and many oaths, the man and woman were
weak enough to comply; when they had drunk several glasses, they departed
for the market, the Gypsy leading the mule.  In about two hours they
returned with the wretched beast, but not exactly as they went; a
numerous crowd followed, laughing and hooting.  The man was now frantic,
and the woman yet more so.  They forced their way upstairs to collect
their baggage, which they soon effected, and were about to leave the
house, vowing revenge.  Now ensued a truly terrific scene, there were no
more blandishments; the Gypsy men and women were in arms, uttering the
most frightful execrations; as the woman came downstairs, the females
assailed her like lunatics; the cripple poked at her with a stick, the
tall hag clawed at her hair, whilst the father Gypsy walked close beside
the man, his hand on his clasp-knife, looking like nothing in this world:
the man, however, on reaching the door, turned to him and said: ‘Gypsy
demon, my borrico by three o’clock—or you know the rest, the justicia.’

The Gypsies remained filled with rage and disappointment; the hag vented
her spite on her brother.  ‘’Tis your fault,’ said she; ‘fool! you have
no tongue; you a Chabó, you can’t speak’; whereas, within a few hours, he
had perhaps talked more than an auctioneer during a three days’ sale: but
he reserved his words for fitting occasions, and now sat as usual, sullen
and silent, smoking his pipe.

The man and woman made their appearance at three o’clock, but they
came—intoxicated; the Gypsy’s eyes glistened—blandishment was again had
recourse to.  ‘Come and sit down with the cavalier here,’ whined the
family; ‘he is a friend of ours, and will soon arrange matters to your
satisfaction.’  I arose, and went into the street; the hag followed me.
‘Will you not assist us, brother, or are you no Chabó?’ she muttered.

‘I will have nothing to do with your matters,’ said I.

‘I know who will,’ said the hag, and hurried down the street.

The man and woman, with much noise, demanded their donkey; the innkeeper
made no answer, and proceeded to fill up several glasses with the
_anisado_.  In about a quarter of an hour, the Gypsy hag returned with a
young man, well dressed, and with a genteel air, but with something wild
and singular in his eyes.  He seated himself by the table, smiled, took a
glass of liquor, drank part of it, smiled again, and handed it to the
countryman.  The latter seeing himself treated in this friendly manner by
a caballero, was evidently much flattered, took off his hat to the
newcomer, and drank, as did the woman also.  The glass was filled, and
refilled, till they became yet more intoxicated.  I did not hear the
young man say a word: he appeared a passive automaton.  The Gypsies,
however, spoke for him, and were profuse of compliments.  It was now
proposed that the caballero should settle the dispute; a long and noisy
conversation ensued, the young man looking vacantly on: the strange
people had no money, and had already run up another bill at a wine-house
to which they had retired.  At last it was proposed, as if by the young
man, that the Gypsy should purchase his own mule for two dollars, and
forgive the strangers the reckoning of the preceding night.  To this they
agreed, being apparently stultified with the liquor, and the money being
paid to them in the presence of witnesses, they thanked the friendly
mediator, and reeled away.

Before they left the town that night, they had contrived to spend the
entire two dollars, and the woman, who first recovered her senses, was
bitterly lamenting that they had permitted themselves to be despoiled so
cheaply of a _prenda tan preciosa_, as was the donkey.  Upon the whole,
however, I did not much pity them.  The woman was certainly not the man’s
wife.  The labourer had probably left his village with some strolling
harlot, bringing with him the animal which had previously served to
support himself and family.

I believe that the Gypsy read, at the first glance, their history, and
arranged matters accordingly.  The donkey was soon once more in the
stable, and that night there was much rejoicing in the Gypsy inn.

Who was the singular mediator?  He was neither more nor less than the
foster child of the Gypsy hag, the unfortunate being whom she had
privately injured in his infancy.  After having thus served them as an
instrument in their villainy, he was told to go home. . . .


THE GYPSY SOLDIER OF VALDEPEÑAS


It was at Madrid one fine afternoon in the beginning of March 1838, that,
as I was sitting behind my table in a cabinete, as it is called, of the
third floor of No. 16, in the Calle de Santiágo, having just taken my
meal, my hostess entered and informed me that a military officer wished
to speak to me, adding, in an undertone, that he looked a _strange
guest_.  I was acquainted with no military officer in the Spanish
service; but as at that time I expected daily to be arrested for having
distributed the Bible, I thought that very possibly this officer might
have been sent to perform that piece of duty.  I instantly ordered him to
be admitted, whereupon a thin active figure, somewhat above the middle
height, dressed in a blue uniform, with a long sword hanging at his side,
tripped into the room.  Depositing his regimental hat on the ground, he
drew a chair to the table, and seating himself, placed his elbows on the
board, and supporting his face with his hands, confronted me, gazing
steadfastly upon me, without uttering a word.  I looked no less wistfully
at him, and was of the same opinion as my hostess, as to the strangeness
of my guest.  He was about fifty, with thin flaxen hair covering the
sides of his head, which at the top was entirely bald.  His eyes were
small, and, like ferrets’, red and fiery.  His complexion like a brick, a
dull red, checkered with spots of purple.  ‘May I inquire your name and
business, sir?’ I at length demanded.

_Stranger_.—‘My name is Chaléco of Valdepeñas; in the time of the French
I served as bragante, fighting for Ferdinand VII.  I am now a captain on
half-pay in the service of Donna Isabel; as for my business here, it is
to speak with you.  Do you know this book?’

_Myself_.—‘This book is Saint Luke’s Gospel in the Gypsy language; how
can this book concern you?’

_Stranger_.—‘No one more.  It is in the language of my people.’

_Myself_.—‘You do not pretend to say that you are a Caló?’

_Stranger_.—‘I do!  I am Zíncalo, by the mother’s side.  My father, it is
true, was one of the Busné; but I glory in being a Caló, and care not to
acknowledge other blood.’

_Myself_.—‘How became you possessed of that book?’

_Stranger_.—‘I was this morning in the Prado, where I met two women of
our people, and amongst other things they told me that they had a
gabicóte in our language.  I did not believe them at first, but they
pulled it out, and I found their words true.  They then spoke to me of
yourself, and told me where you live, so I took the book from them and am
come to see you.’

_Myself_.—‘Are you able to understand this book?’

_Stranger_.—‘Perfectly, though it is written in very crabbed language:
{235} but I learnt to read Caló when very young.  My mother was a good
Calli, and early taught me both to speak and read it.  She too had a
gabicóte, but not printed like this, and it treated of a different
matter.’

_Myself_.—‘How came your mother, being a good Calli, to marry one of a
different blood?’

_Stranger_.—‘It was no fault of hers; there was no remedy.  In her
infancy she lost her parents, who were executed; and she was abandoned by
all, till my father, taking compassion on her, brought her up and
educated her: at last he made her his wife, though three times her age.
She, however, remembered her blood and hated my father, and taught me to
hate him likewise, and avoid him.  When a boy, I used to stroll about the
plains, that I might not see my father; and my father would follow me and
beg me to look upon him, and would ask me what I wanted; and I would
reply, Father, the only thing I want is to see you dead.’

_Myself_.—‘That was strange language from a child to its parent.’

_Stranger_.—‘It was—but you know the couplet, {236a} which says, “I do
not wish to be a lord—I am by birth a Gypsy—I do not wish to be a
gentleman—I am content with being a Caló!”’

_Myself_.—‘I am anxious to hear more of your history—pray proceed.’

_Stranger_.—‘When I was about twelve years old my father became
distracted, and died.  I then continued with my mother for some years;
she loved me much, and procured a teacher to instruct me in Latin.  At
last she died, and then there was a pléyto (law-suit).  I took to the
sierra and became a highwayman; but the wars broke out.  My cousin Jara,
of Valdepeñas, raised a troop of brigantes. {236b}  I enlisted with him
and distinguished myself very much; there is scarcely a man or woman in
Spain but has heard of Jara and Chaléco.  I am now captain in the service
of Donna Isabel—I am covered with wounds—I am—ugh! ugh! ugh—!’

He had commenced coughing, and in a manner which perfectly astounded me.
I had heard hooping coughs, consumptive coughs, coughs caused by colds,
and other accidents, but a cough so horrible and unnatural as that of the
Gypsy soldier, I had never witnessed in the course of my travels.  In a
moment he was bent double, his frame writhed and laboured, the veins of
his forehead were frightfully swollen, and his complexion became black as
the blackest blood; he screamed, he snorted, he barked, and appeared to
be on the point of suffocation—yet more explosive became the cough; and
the people of the house, frightened, came running into the apartment.  I
cries, ‘The man is perishing, run instantly for a surgeon!’  He heard me,
and with a quick movement raised his left hand as if to countermand the
order; another struggle, then one mighty throe, which seemed to search
his deepest intestines; and he remained motionless, his head on his knee.
The cough had left him, and within a minute or two he again looked up.

‘That is a dreadful cough, friend,’ said I, when he was somewhat
recovered.  ‘How did you get it?’

_Gypsy Soldier_.—‘I am—shot through the lungs—brother!  Let me but take
breath, and I will show you the hole—the agujéro.’

He continued with me a considerable time, and showed not the slightest
disposition to depart; the cough returned twice, but not so violently;—at
length, having an engagement, I arose, and apologising, told him I must
leave him.  The next day he came again at the same hour, but he found me
not, as I was abroad dining with a friend.  On the third day, however, as
I was sitting down to dinner, in he walked, unannounced.  I am rather
hospitable than otherwise, so I cordially welcomed him, and requested him
to partake of my meal.  ‘Con múcho gusto,’ he replied, and instantly took
his place at the table.  I was again astonished, for if his cough was
frightful, his appetite was yet more so.  He ate like a wolf of the
sierra;—soup, puchero, fowl and bacon disappeared before him in a
twinkling.  I ordered in cold meat, which he presently despatched; a
large piece of cheese was then produced.  We had been drinking water.

‘Where is the wine?’ said he.

‘I never use it,’ I replied.

He looked blank.  The hostess, however, who was present waiting, said,
‘If the gentleman wish for wine, I have a bota nearly full, which I will
instantly fetch.’

The skin bottle, when full, might contain about four quarts.  She filled
him a very large glass, and was removing the skin, but he prevented her,
saying, ‘Leave it, my good woman; my brother here will settle with you
for the little I shall use.’

He now lighted his cigar, and it was evident that he had made good his
quarters.  On the former occasion I thought his behaviour sufficiently
strange, but I liked it still less on the present.  Every fifteen minutes
he emptied his glass, which contained at least a pint; his conversation
became horrible.  He related the atrocities which he had committed when a
robber and bragante in La Mancha.  ‘It was our custom,’ said he, ‘to tie
our prisoners to the olive-trees, and then, putting our horses to full
speed, to tilt at them with our spears.’  As he continued to drink he
became waspish and quarrelsome: he had hitherto talked Castilian, but he
would now only converse in Gypsy and in Latin, the last of which
languages he spoke with great fluency, though ungrammatically.  He told
me that he had killed six men in duels; and, drawing his sword, fenced
about the room.  I saw by the manner in which he handled it, that he was
master of his weapon.  His cough did not return, and he said it seldom
afflicted him when he dined well.  He gave me to understand that he had
received no pay for two years.  ‘Therefore you visit me,’ thought I.  At
the end of three hours, perceiving that he exhibited no signs of taking
his departure, I arose, and said I must again leave him.  ‘As you please,
brother,’ said he; ‘use no ceremony with me, I am fatigued, and will wait
a little while.’  I did not return till eleven at night, when my hostess
informed me that he had just departed, promising to return next day.  He
had emptied the bota to the last drop, and the cheese produced being
insufficient for him, he sent for an entire Dutch cheese on my account;
part of which he had eaten and the rest carried away.  I now saw that I
had formed a most troublesome acquaintance, of whom it was highly
necessary to rid myself, if possible; I therefore dined out for the next
nine days.

For a week he came regularly at the usual hour, at the end of which time
he desisted; the hostess was afraid of him, as she said that he was a
brujo or wizard, and only spoke to him through the wicket.

On the tenth day I was cast into prison, where I continued several weeks.
Once, during my confinement, he called at the house, and being informed
of my mishap, drew his sword, and vowed with horrible imprecations to
murder the prime minister of Ofalia, for having dared to imprison his
brother.  On my release, I did not revisit my lodgings for some days, but
lived at an hotel.  I returned late one afternoon, with my servant
Francisco, a Basque of Hernáni, who had served me with the utmost
fidelity during my imprisonment, which he had voluntarily shared with me.
The first person I saw on entering was the Gypsy soldier, seated by the
table, whereon were several bottles of wine which he had ordered from the
tavern, of course on my account.  He was smoking, and looked savage and
sullen; perhaps he was not much pleased with the reception he had
experienced.  He had forced himself in, and the woman of the house sat in
a corner looking upon him with dread.  I addressed him, but he would
scarcely return an answer.  At last he commenced discoursing with great
volubility in Gypsy and Latin.  I did not understand much of what he
said.  His words were wild and incoherent, but he repeatedly threatened
some person.  The last bottle was now exhausted: he demanded more.  I
told him in a gentle manner that he had drunk enough.  He looked on the
ground for some time, then slowly, and somewhat hesitatingly, drew his
sword and laid it on the table.  It was become dark.  I was not afraid of
the fellow, but I wished to avoid anything unpleasant.  I called to
Francisco to bring lights, and obeying a sign which I made him, he sat
down at the table.  The Gypsy glared fiercely upon him—Francisco laughed,
and began with great glee to talk in Basque, of which the Gypsy
understood not a word.  The Basques, like all Tartars, {241a} and such
they are, are paragons of fidelity and good nature; they are only
dangerous when outraged, when they are terrible indeed.  Francisco, to
the strength of a giant joined the disposition of a lamb.  He was beloved
even in the patio of the prison, where he used to pitch the bar and
wrestle with the murderers and felons, always coming off victor.  He
continued speaking Basque.  The Gypsy was incensed; and, forgetting the
languages in which, for the last hour, he had been speaking, complained
to Francisco of his rudeness in speaking any tongue but Castilian.  The
Basque replied by a loud carcajáda, and slightly touched the Gypsy on the
knee.  The latter sprang up like a mine discharged, seized his sword,
and, retreating a few steps, made a desperate lunge at Francisco.

The Basques, next to the Pasiegos, {241b} are the best cudgel-players in
Spain, and in the world.  Francisco held in his hand part of a
broomstick, which he had broken in the stable, whence he had just
ascended.  With the swiftness of lightning he foiled the stroke of
Chaléco, and, in another moment, with a dexterous blow, struck the sword
out of his hand, sending it ringing against the wall.

The Gypsy resumed his seat and his cigar.  He occasionally looked at the
Basque.  His glances were at first atrocious, but presently changed their
expression, and appeared to me to become prying and eagerly curious.  He
at last arose, picked up his sword, sheathed it, and walked slowly to the
door; when there he stopped, turned round, advanced close to Francisco,
and looked him steadfastly in the face.  ‘My good fellow,’ said he, ‘I am
a Gypsy, and can read baji.  Do you know where you will be at this time
to-morrow?’ {242}  Then, laughing like a hyena, he departed, and I never
saw him again.

At that time on the morrow, Francisco was on his death-bed.  He had
caught the jail fever, which had long raged in the Carcel de la Corte,
where I was imprisoned.  In a few days he was buried, a mass of
corruption, in the Campo Santo of Madrid.



CHAPTER V


THE Gitános, in their habits and manner of life, are much less cleanly
than the Spaniards.  The hovels in which they reside exhibit none of the
neatness which is observable in the habitations of even the poorest of
the other race.  The floors are unswept, and abound with filth and mud,
and in their persons they are scarcely less vile.  Inattention to
cleanliness is a characteristic of the Gypsies, in all parts of the
world.

The Bishop of Forli, as far back as 1422, gives evidence upon this point,
and insinuates that they carried the plague with them; as he observes
that it raged with peculiar violence the year of their appearance at
Forli. {243}

At the present day they are almost equally disgusting, in this respect,
in Hungary, England, and Spain.  Amongst the richer Gitános, habits of
greater cleanliness of course exist than amongst the poorer.  An air of
sluttishness, however, pervades their dwellings, which, to an experienced
eye, would sufficiently attest that the inmates were Gitános, in the
event of their absence.

What can be said of the Gypsy dress, of which such frequent mention is
made in the Spanish laws, and which is prohibited together with the Gypsy
language and manner of life?  Of whatever it might consist in former
days, it is so little to be distinguished from the dress of some classes
amongst the Spaniards, that it is almost impossible to describe the
difference.  They generally wear a high-peaked, narrow-brimmed hat, a
zamarra of sheep-skin in winter, and, during summer, a jacket of brown
cloth; and beneath this they are fond of exhibiting a red plush
waistcoat, something after the fashion of the English jockeys, with
numerous buttons and clasps.  A faja, or girdle of crimson silk,
surrounds the waist, where, not unfrequently, are stuck the cachas which
we have already described.  Pantaloons of coarse cloth or leather descend
to the knee; the legs are protected by woollen stockings, and sometimes
by a species of spatterdash, either of cloth or leather; stout high-lows
complete the equipment.

Such is the dress of the Gitános of most parts of Spain.  But it is
necessary to remark that such also is the dress of the chalans, and of
the muleteers, except that the latter are in the habit of wearing broad
sombreros as preservatives from the sun.  This dress appears to be rather
Andalusian than Gitáno; and yet it certainly beseems the Gitáno better
than the chalan or muleteer.  He wears it with more easy negligence or
jauntiness, by which he may be recognised at some distance, even from
behind.

It is still more difficult to say what is the peculiar dress of the
Gitánas; they wear not the large red cloaks and immense bonnets of coarse
beaver which distinguish their sisters of England; they have no other
headgear than a handkerchief, which is occasionally resorted to as a
defence against the severity of the weather; their hair is sometimes
confined by a comb, but more frequently is permitted to stray dishevelled
down their shoulders; they are fond of large ear-rings, whether of gold,
silver, or metal, resembling in this respect the poissardes of France.
There is little to distinguish them from the Spanish women save the
absence of the mantilla, which they never carry.  Females of fashion not
unfrequently take pleasure in dressing à la Gitána, as it is called; but
this female Gypsy fashion, like that of the men, is more properly the
fashion of Andalusia, the principal characteristic of which is the saya,
which is exceedingly short, with many rows of flounces.

True it is that the original dress of the Gitános, male and female,
whatever it was, may have had some share in forming the Andalusian
fashion, owing to the great number of these wanderers who found their way
to that province at an early period.  The Andalusians are a mixed breed
of various nations, Romans, Vandals, Moors; perhaps there is a slight
sprinkling of Gypsy blood in their veins, and of Gypsy fashion in their
garb.

The Gitános are, for the most part, of the middle size, and the
proportions of their frames convey a powerful idea of strength and
activity united; a deformed or weakly object is rarely found amongst them
in persons of either sex; such probably perish in their infancy, unable
to support the hardships and privations to which the race is still
subjected from its great poverty, and these same privations have given
and still give a coarseness and harshness to their features, which are
all strongly marked and expressive.  Their complexion is by no means
uniform, save that it is invariably darker than the general olive hue of
the Spaniards; not unfrequently countenances as dark as those of mulattos
present themselves, and in some few instances of almost negro blackness.
Like most people of savage ancestry, their teeth are white and strong;
their mouths are not badly formed, but it is in the eye more than in any
other feature that they differ from other human beings.

There is something remarkable in the eye of the Gitáno: should his hair
and complexion become fair as those of the Swede or the Finn, and his
jockey gait as grave and ceremonious as that of the native of Old
Castile, were he dressed like a king, a priest, or a warrior, still would
the Gitáno be detected by his eye, should it continue unchanged.  The Jew
is known by his eye, but then in the Jew that feature is peculiarly
small; the Chinese has a remarkable eye, but then the eye of the Chinese
is oblong, and even with the face, which is flat; but the eye of the
Gitáno is neither large nor small, and exhibits no marked difference in
its shape from the eyes of the common cast.  Its peculiarity consists
chiefly in a strange staring expression, which to be understood must be
seen, and in a thin glaze, which steals over it when in repose, and seems
to emit phosphoric light.  That the Gypsy eye has sometimes a peculiar
effect, we learn from the following stanza:—

    ‘A Gypsy stripling’s glossy eye
       Has pierced my bosom’s core,
    A feat no eye beneath the sky
       Could e’er effect before.’

The following passages are extracted from a Spanish work, {247} and
cannot be out of place here, as they relate to those matters to which we
have devoted this chapter.

‘The Gitános have an olive complexion and very marked physiognomy; their
cheeks are prominent, their lips thick, their eyes vivid and black; their
hair is long, black, and coarse, and their teeth very white.  The general
expression of their physiognomy is a compound of pride, slavishness, and
cunning.  They are, for the most part, of good stature, well formed, and
support with facility fatigue and every kind of hardship.  When they
discuss any matter, or speak among themselves, whether in Catalan, in
Castilian, or in Germania, which is their own peculiar jargon, they
always make use of much gesticulation, which contributes to give to their
conversation and to the vivacity of their physiognomy a certain
expression, still more penetrating and characteristic.

‘When a Gitáno has occasion to speak of some business in which his
interest is involved, he redoubles his gestures in proportion as he knows
the necessity of convincing those who hear him, and fears their
impassibility.  If any rancorous idea agitate him in the course of his
narrative; if he endeavour to infuse into his auditors sentiments of
jealousy, vengeance, or any violent passion, his features become
exaggerated, and the vivacity of his glances, and the contraction of his
lips, show clearly, and in an imposing manner, the foreign origin of the
Gitános, and all the customs of barbarous people.  Even his very smile
has an expression hard and disagreeable.  One might almost say that joy
in him is a forced sentiment, and that, like unto the savage man, sadness
is the dominant feature of his physiognomy.

‘The Gitána is distinguished by the same complexion, and almost the same
features.  In her frame she is as well formed, and as flexible as the
Gitáno.  Condemned to suffer the same privations and wants, her
countenance, when her interest does not oblige her to dissemble her
feelings, presents the same aspect of melancholy, and shows besides, with
more energy, the rancorous passions of which the female heart is
susceptible.  Free in her actions, her carriage, and her pursuits, she
speaks, vociferates, and makes more gestures than the Gitáno, and, in
imitation of him, her arms are in continual motion, to give more
expression to the imagery with which she accompanies her discourse; her
whole body contributes to her gesture, and to increase its force;
endeavouring by these means to sharpen the effect of language in itself
insufficient; and her vivid and disordered imagination is displayed in
her appearance and attitude.

‘When she turns her hand to any species of labour, her hurried action,
the disorder of her hair, which is scarcely subjected by a little comb,
and her propensity to irritation, show how little she loves toil, and her
disgust for any continued occupation.

‘In her disputes, the air of menace and high passion, the flow of words,
and the facility with which she provokes and despises danger, indicate
manners half barbarous, and ignorance of other means of defence.
Finally, both in males and females, their physical constitution, colour,
agility, and flexibility, reveal to us a caste sprung from a burning
clime, and devoted to all those exercises which contribute to evolve
bodily vigour, and certain mental faculties.

‘The dress of the Gitáno varies with the country which he inhabits.  Both
in Rousillon and Catalonia his habiliments generally consist of jacket,
waistcoat, pantaloons, and a red faja, which covers part of his
waistcoat; on his feet he wears hempen sandals, with much ribbon tied
round the leg as high as the calf; he has, moreover, either woollen or
cotton stockings; round his neck he wears a handkerchief, carelessly
tied; and in the winter he uses a blanket or mantle, with sleeves, cast
over the shoulder; his head is covered with the indispensable red cap,
which appears to be the favourite ornament of many nations in the
vicinity of the Mediterranean and Caspian Sea.

‘The neck and the elbows of the jacket are adorned with pieces of blue
and yellow cloth embroidered with silk, as well as the seams of the
pantaloons; he wears, moreover, on the jacket or the waistcoat, various
rows of silver buttons, small and round, sustained by rings or chains of
the same metal.  The old people, and those who by fortune, or some other
cause, exercise, in appearance, a kind of authority over the rest, are
almost always dressed in black or dark-blue velvet.  Some of those who
affect elegance amongst them keep for holidays a complete dress of
sky-blue velvet, with embroidery at the neck, pocket-holes, arm-pits, and
in all the seams; in a word, with the exception of the turban, this was
the fashion of dress of the ancient Moors of Granada, the only difference
being occasioned by time and misery.

‘The dress of the Gitánas is very varied: the young girls, or those who
are in tolerably easy circumstances, generally wear a black bodice laced
up with a string, and adjusted to their figures, and contrasting with the
scarlet-coloured saya, which only covers a part of the leg; their shoes
are cut very low, and are adorned with little buckles of silver; the
breast, and the upper part of the bodice, are covered either with a white
handkerchief, or one of some vivid colour; and on the head is worn
another handkerchief, tied beneath the chin, one of the ends of which
falls on the shoulder, in the manner of a hood.  When the cold or the
heat permit, the Gitána removes the hood, without untying the knots, and
exhibits her long and shining tresses restrained by a comb.  The old
women, and the very poor, dress in the same manner, save that their
habiliments are more coarse and the colours less in harmony.  Amongst
them misery appears beneath the most revolting aspect; whilst the poorest
Gitáno preserves a certain deportment which would make his aspect
supportable, if his unquiet and ferocious glance did not inspire us with
aversion.’



CHAPTER VI


WHILST their husbands are engaged in their jockey vocation, or in
wielding the cachas, the Callees, or Gypsy females, are seldom idle, but
are endeavouring, by various means, to make all the gain they can.  The
richest amongst them are generally contrabandistas, and in the large
towns go from house to house with prohibited goods, especially silk and
cotton, and occasionally with tobacco.  They likewise purchase cast-off
female wearing-apparel, which, when vamped up and embellished, they
sometimes contrive to sell as new, with no inconsiderable profit.

Gitánas of this description are of the most respectable class; the rest,
provided they do not sell roasted chestnuts, or esteras, which are a
species of mat, seek a livelihood by different tricks and practices, more
or less fraudulent; for example—

_La Bahi_, or fortune-telling, which is called in Spanish, _buena
ventura_.—This way of extracting money from the credulity of dupes is, of
all those practised by the Gypsies, the readiest and most easy; promises
are the only capital requisite, and the whole art of fortune-telling
consists in properly adapting these promises to the age and condition of
the parties who seek for information.  The Gitánas are clever enough in
the accomplishment of this, and in most cases afford perfect
satisfaction.  Their practice chiefly lies amongst females, the portion
of the human race most given to curiosity and credulity.  To the young
maidens they promise lovers, handsome invariably, and sometimes rich; to
wives children, and perhaps another husband; for their eyes are so
penetrating, that occasionally they will develop your most secret
thoughts and wishes; to the old, riches—and nothing but riches; for they
have sufficient knowledge of the human heart to be aware that avarice is
the last passion that becomes extinct within it.  These riches are to
proceed either from the discovery of hidden treasures or from across the
water; from the Americas, to which the Spaniards still look with hope, as
there is no individual in Spain, however poor, but has some connection in
those realms of silver and gold, at whose death he considers it probable
that he may succeed to a brilliant ‘heréncia.’  The Gitánas, in the
exercise of this practice, find dupes almost as readily amongst the
superior classes, as the veriest dregs of the population.  It is their
boast, that the best houses are open to them; and perhaps in the space of
one hour, they will spae the bahi to a duchess, or countess, in one of
the hundred palaces of Madrid, and to half a dozen of the lavanderas
engaged in purifying the linen of the capital, beneath the willows which
droop on the banks of the murmuring Manzanares.  One great advantage
which the Gypsies possess over all other people is an utter absence of
_mauvaise honte_; their speech is as fluent, and their eyes as unabashed,
in the presence of royalty, as before those from whom they have nothing
to hope or fear; the result being, that most minds quail before them.
There were two Gitánas at Madrid, one Pepita by name, and the other La
Chicharona; the first was a spare, shrewd, witch-like female, about
fifty, and was the mother-in-law of La Chicharona, who was remarkable for
her stoutness.  These women subsisted entirely by fortune-telling and
swindling.  It chanced that the son of Pepita, and husband of Chicharona,
having spirited away a horse, was sent to the presidio of Malaga for ten
years of hard labour.  This misfortune caused inexpressible affliction to
his wife and mother, who determined to make every effort to procure his
liberation.  The readiest way which occurred to them was to procure an
interview with the Queen Regent Christina, who they doubted not would
forthwith pardon the culprit, provided they had an opportunity of
assailing her with their Gypsy discourse; for, to use their own words,
‘they well knew what to say.’  I at that time lived close by the palace,
in the street of Santiago, and daily, for the space of a month, saw them
bending their steps in that direction.

One day they came to me in a great hurry, with a strange expression on
both their countenances.  ‘We have seen Christina, hijo’ (my son), said
Pepita to me.

‘Within the palace?’ I inquired.

‘Within the palace, O child of my garlochin,’ answered the sibyl:
‘Christina at last saw and sent for us, as I knew she would; I told her
“bahi,” and Chicharona danced the Romalis (Gypsy dance) before her.’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘I told her many things,’ said the hag, ‘many things which I need not
tell you: know, however, that amongst other things, I told her that the
chabori (little queen) would die, and then she would be Queen of Spain.
I told her, moreover, that within three years she would marry the son of
the King of France, and it was her bahi to die Queen of France and Spain,
and to be loved much, and hated much.’

‘And did you not dread her anger, when you told her these things?’

‘Dread her, the Busnee?’ screamed Pepita: ‘No, my child, she dreaded me
far more; I looked at her so—and raised my finger so—and Chicharona
clapped her hands, and the Busnee believed all I said, and was afraid of
me; and then I asked for the pardon of my son, and she pledged her word
to see into the matter, and when we came away, she gave me this baria of
gold, and to Chicharona this other, so at all events we have hokkanoed
the queen.  May an evil end overtake her body, the Busnee!’

Though some of the Gitánas contrive to subsist by fortune-telling alone,
the generality of them merely make use of it as an instrument towards the
accomplishment of greater things.  The immediate gains are scanty; a few
cuartos being the utmost which they receive from the majority of their
customers.  But the bahi is an excellent passport into houses, and when
they spy a convenient opportunity, they seldom fail to avail themselves
of it.  It is necessary to watch them strictly, as articles frequently
disappear in a mysterious manner whilst Gitánas are telling fortunes.
The bahi, moreover, is occasionally the prelude to a device which we
shall now attempt to describe, and which is called _Hokkano Baro_, or the
great trick, of which we have already said something in the former part
of this work.  It consists in persuading some credulous person to deposit
whatever money and valuables the party can muster in a particular spot,
under the promise that the deposit will increase many manifold.  Some of
our readers will have difficulty in believing that any people can be
found sufficiently credulous to allow themselves to be duped by a trick
of this description, the grossness of the intended fraud seeming too
palpable.  Experience, however, proves the contrary.  The deception is
frequently practised at the present day, and not only in Spain but in
England—enlightened England—and in France likewise; an instance being
given in the memoirs of Vidocq, the late celebrated head of the secret
police of Paris, though, in that instance, the perpetrator of the fraud
was not a Gypsy.  The most subtle method of accomplishing the hokkano
baro is the following:—

When the dupe—a widow we will suppose, for in these cases the dupes are
generally widows—has been induced to consent to make the experiment, the
Gitána demands of her whether she has in the house some strong chest with
a safe lock.  On receiving an affirmative answer, she will request to see
all the gold and silver of any description which she may chance to have
in her possession.  The treasure is shown her; and when the Gitána has
carefully inspected and counted it, she produces a white handkerchief,
saying, Lady, I give you this handkerchief, which is blessed.  Place in
it your gold and silver, and tie it with three knots.  I am going for
three days, during which period you must keep the bundle beneath your
pillow, permitting no one to go near it, and observing the greatest
secrecy, otherwise the money will take wings and fly away.  Every morning
during the three days it will be well to open the bundle, for your own
satisfaction, to see that no misfortune has befallen your treasure; be
always careful, however, to fasten it again with the three knots.  On my
return, we will place the bundle, after having inspected it, in the
chest, which you shall yourself lock, retaining the key in your
possession.  But, thenceforward, for three weeks, you must by no means
unlock the chest, nor look at the treasure—if you do it will fly away.
Only follow my directions, and you will gain much, very much, baribu.

The Gitána departs, and, during the three days, prepares a bundle as
similar as possible to the one which contains the money of her dupe, save
that instead of gold ounces, dollars, and plate, its contents consist of
copper money and pewter articles of little or no value.  With this bundle
concealed beneath her cloak, she returns at the end of three days to her
intended victim.  The bundle of real treasure is produced and inspected,
and again tied up by the Gitána, who then requests the other to open the
chest, which done, she formally places _a bundle_ in it; but, in the
meanwhile, she has contrived to substitute the fictitious for the real
one.  The chest is then locked, the lady retaining the key.  The Gitána
promises to return at the end of three weeks, to open the chest, assuring
the lady that if it be not unlocked until that period, it will be found
filled with gold and silver; but threatening that in the event of her
injunctions being disregarded, the money deposited will vanish.  She then
walks off with great deliberation, bearing away the spoil.  It is
needless to say that she never returns.

There are other ways of accomplishing the hokkano baro.  The most simple,
and indeed the one most generally used by the Gitánas, is to persuade
some simple individual to hide a sum of money in the earth, which they
afterwards carry away.  A case of this description occurred within my own
knowledge, at Madrid, towards the latter part of the year 1837.  There
was a notorious Gitána, of the name of Aurora; she was about forty years
of age, a Valencian by birth, and immensely fat.  This amiable personage,
by some means, formed the acquaintance of a wealthy widow lady; and was
not slow in attempting to practise the hokkano baro upon her.  She
succeeded but too well.  The widow, at the instigation of Aurora, buried
one hundred ounces of gold beneath a ruined arch in a field, at a short
distance from the wall of Madrid.  The inhumation was effected at night
by the widow alone.  Aurora was, however, on the watch, and, in less than
ten minutes after the widow had departed, possessed herself of the
treasure; perhaps the largest one ever acquired by this kind of deceit.
The next day the widow had certain misgivings, and, returning to the
spot, found her money gone.  About six months after this event, I was
imprisoned in the Carcel de la Corte, at Madrid, and there I found
Aurora, who was in durance for defrauding the widow.  She said that it
had been her intention to depart for Valencia with the ‘barias,’ as she
styled her plunder, but the widow had discovered the trick too soon, and
she had been arrested.  She added, however, that she had contrived to
conceal the greatest part of the property, and that she expected her
liberation in a few days, having been prodigal of bribes to the
‘justicia.’  In effect, her liberation took place sooner than my own.
Nevertheless, she had little cause to triumph, as before she left the
prison she had been fleeced of the last cuarto of her ill-gotten gain, by
alguazils and escribanos, who, she admitted, understood hokkano baro much
better than herself.

When I next saw Aurora, she informed me that she was once more on
excellent terms with the widow, whom she had persuaded that the loss of
the money was caused by her own imprudence, in looking for it before the
appointed time; the spirit of the earth having removed it in anger.  She
added that her dupe was quite disposed to make another venture, by which
she hoped to retrieve her former loss.

_Ustilar pastésas_.—Under this head may be placed various kinds of theft
committed by the Gitános.  The meaning of the words is stealing with the
hands; but they are more generally applied to the filching of money by
dexterity of hand, when giving or receiving change.  For example: a
Gitána will enter a shop, and purchase some insignificant article,
tendering in payment a baria or golden ounce.  The change being put down
before her on the counter, she counts the money, and complains that she
has received a dollar and several pesetas less than her due.  It seems
impossible that there can be any fraud on her part, as she has not even
taken the pieces in her hand, but merely placed her fingers upon them;
pushing them on one side.  She now asks the merchant what he means by
attempting to deceive the poor woman.  The merchant, supposing that he
has made a mistake, takes up the money, counts it, and finds in effect
that the just sum is not there.  He again hands out the change, but there
is now a greater deficiency than before, and the merchant is convinced
that he is dealing with a witch.  The Gitána now pushes the money to him,
uplifts her voice, and talks of the justicia.  Should the merchant become
frightened, and, emptying a bag of dollars, tell her to pay herself, as
has sometimes been the case, she will have a fine opportunity to exercise
her powers, and whilst taking the change will contrive to convey secretly
into her sleeves five or six dollars at least; after which she will
depart with much vociferation, declaring that she will never again enter
the shop of so cheating a picaro.

Of all the Gitánas at Madrid, Aurora the fat was, by their own
confession, the most dexterous at this species of robbery; she having
been known in many instances, whilst receiving change for an ounce, to
steal the whole value, which amounts to sixteen dollars.  It was not
without reason that merchants in ancient times were, according to Martin
Del Rio, advised to sell nothing out of their shops to Gitánas, as they
possessed an infallible secret for attracting to their own purses from
the coffers of the former the money with which they paid for the articles
they purchased.  This secret consisted in stealing á pastésas, which they
still practise.  Many accounts of witchcraft and sorcery, which are
styled old women’s tales, are perhaps equally well founded.  Real actions
have been attributed to wrong causes.

Shoplifting, and other kinds of private larceny, are connected with
stealing á pastésas, for in all dexterity of hand is required.  Many of
the Gitánas of Madrid are provided with large pockets, or rather sacks,
beneath their gowns, in which they stow away their plunder.  Some of
these pockets are capacious enough to hold, at one time, a dozen yards of
cloth, a Dutch cheese and a bottle of wine.  Nothing that she can eat,
drink, or sell, comes amiss to a veritable Gitána; and sometimes the
contents of her pocket would afford materials for an inventory far more
lengthy and curious than the one enumerating the effects found on the
person of the man-mountain at Lilliput.

_Chiving Drao_.—In former times the Spanish Gypsies of both sexes were in
the habit of casting a venomous preparation into the mangers of the
cattle for the purpose of causing sickness.  At present this practice has
ceased, or nearly so; the Gitános, however, talk of it as universal
amongst their ancestors.  They were in the habit of visiting the stalls
and stables secretly, and poisoning the provender of the animals, who
almost immediately became sick.  After a few days the Gitános would go to
the labourers and offer to cure the sick cattle for a certain sum, and if
their proposal was accepted would in effect perform the cure.

Connected with the cure was a curious piece of double dealing.  They
privately administered an efficacious remedy, but pretended to cure the
animals not by medicines but by charms, which consisted of small
variegated beans, called in their language bobis, {262a} dropped into the
mangers.  By this means they fostered the idea, already prevalent, that
they were people possessed of supernatural gifts and powers, who could
remove diseases without having recourse to medicine.  By means of drao,
they likewise procured themselves food; poisoning swine, as their
brethren in England still do, {262b} and then feasting on the flesh,
which was abandoned as worthless: witness one of their own songs:—

    ‘By Gypsy drow the Porker died,
    I saw him stiff at evening tide,
    But I saw him not when morning shone,
    For the Gypsies ate him flesh and bone.’

By drao also they could avenge themselves on their enemies by destroying
their cattle, without incurring a shadow of suspicion.  Revenge for
injuries, real or imaginary, is sweet to all unconverted minds; to no one
more than the Gypsy, who, in all parts of the world, is, perhaps, the
most revengeful of human beings.

Vidocq in his memoirs states, that having formed a connection with an
individual whom he subsequently discovered to be the captain of a band of
Walachian Gypsies, the latter, whose name was Caroun, wished Vidocq to
assist in scattering certain powders in the mangers of the peasants’
cattle; Vidocq, from prudential motives, refused the employment.  There
can be no doubt that these powders were, in substance, the drao of the
Spanish Gitános.

_La Bar Lachi_, _or the Loadstone_.—If the Gitános in general be addicted
to any one superstition, it is certainly with respect to this stone, to
which they attribute all kinds of miraculous powers.  There can be no
doubt, that the singular property which it possesses of attracting steel,
by filling their untutored minds with amazement, first gave rise to this
veneration, which is carried beyond all reasonable bounds.

They believe that he who is in possession of it has nothing to fear from
steel or lead, from fire or water, and that death itself has no power
over him.  The Gypsy contrabandistas are particularly anxious to procure
this stone, which they carry upon their persons in their expeditions;
they say, that in the event of being pursued by the jaracanallis, or
revenue officers, whirlwinds of dust will arise, and conceal them from
the view of their enemies; the horse-stealers say much the same thing,
and assert that they are uniformly successful, when they bear about them
the precious stone.  But it is said to be able to effect much more.
Extraordinary things are related of its power in exciting the amorous
passions, and, on this account, it is in great request amongst the Gypsy
hags; all these women are procuresses, and find persons of both sexes
weak and wicked enough to make use of their pretended knowledge in the
composition of love-draughts and decoctions.

In the case of the loadstone, however, there is no pretence, the Gitánas
believing all they say respecting it, and still more; this is proved by
the eagerness with which they seek to obtain the stone in its natural
state, which is somewhat difficult to accomplish.

In the museum of natural curiosities at Madrid there is a large piece of
loadstone originally extracted from the American mines.  There is
scarcely a Gitána in Madrid who is not acquainted with this circumstance,
and who does not long to obtain the stone, or a part of it; its being
placed in a royal museum serving to augment, in their opinion, its real
value.  Several attempts have been made to steal it, all of which,
however, have been unsuccessful.  The Gypsies seem not to be the only
people who envy royalty the possession of this stone.  Pepita, the old
Gitána of whose talent at telling fortunes such honourable mention has
already been made, informed me that a priest, who was muy enamorado (in
love), proposed to her to steal the loadstone, offering her all his
sacerdotal garments in the event of success: whether the singular reward
that was promised had but slight temptations for her, or whether she
feared that her dexterity was not equal to the accomplishment of the
task, we know not, but she appears to have declined attempting it.
According to the Gypsy account, the person in love, if he wish to excite
a corresponding passion in another quarter by means of the loadstone,
must swallow, _in aguardiente_, a small portion of the stone pulverised,
at the time of going to rest, repeating to himself the following magic
rhyme:—

    ‘To the Mountain of Olives one morning I hied,
    Three little black goats before me I spied,
    Those three little goats on three cars I laid,
    Black cheeses three from their milk I made;
    The one I bestow on the loadstone of power,
    That save me it may from all ills that lower;
    The second to Mary Padilla I give,
    And to all the witch hags about her that live;
    The third I reserve for Asmodeus lame,
    That fetch me he may whatever I name.’

_La raiz del buen Baron_, _or the root of the good Baron_.—On this
subject we cannot be very explicit.  It is customary with the Gitánas to
sell, under this title, various roots and herbs, to unfortunate females
who are desirous of producing a certain result; these roots are boiled in
white wine, and the abominable decoction is taken fasting.  I was once
shown the root of the good baron, which, in this instance, appeared to be
parsley root.  By the good baron is meant his Satanic majesty, on whom
the root is very appropriately fathered.



CHAPTER VII


IT is impossible to dismiss the subject of the Spanish Gypsies without
offering some remarks on their marriage festivals.  There is nothing
which they retain connected with their primitive rites and principles,
more characteristic perhaps of the sect of the Rommany, of the sect of
the _husbands and wives_, than what relates to the marriage ceremony,
which gives the female a protector, and the man a helpmate, a sharer of
his joys and sorrows.  The Gypsies are almost entirely ignorant of the
grand points of morality; they have never had sufficient sense to
perceive that to lie, to steal, and to shed human blood violently, are
crimes which are sure, eventually, to yield bitter fruits to those who
perpetrate them; but on one point, and that one of no little importance
as far as temporal happiness is concerned, they are in general wiser than
those who have had far better opportunities than such unfortunate
outcasts, of regulating their steps, and distinguishing good from evil.
They know that chastity is a jewel of high price, and that conjugal
fidelity is capable of occasionally flinging a sunshine even over the
dreary hours of a life passed in the contempt of almost all laws, whether
human or divine.

There is a word in the Gypsy language to which those who speak it attach
ideas of peculiar reverence, far superior to that connected with the name
of the Supreme Being, the creator of themselves and the universe.  This
word is _Lácha_, which with them is the corporeal chastity of the
females; we say corporeal chastity, for no other do they hold in the
slightest esteem; it is lawful amongst them, nay praiseworthy, to be
obscene in look, gesture, and discourse, to be accessories to vice, and
to stand by and laugh at the worst abominations of the Busné, provided
their _Lácha ye trupos_, or corporeal chastity, remains unblemished.  The
Gypsy child, from her earliest years, is told by her strange mother, that
a good Calli need only dread one thing in this world, and that is the
loss of Lácha, in comparison with which that of life is of little
consequence, as in such an event she will be provided for, but what
provision is there for a Gypsy who has lost her Lácha?  ‘Bear this in
mind, my child,’ she will say, ‘and now eat this bread, and go forth and
see what you can steal.’

A Gypsy girl is generally betrothed at the age of fourteen to the youth
whom her parents deem a suitable match, and who is generally a few years
older than herself.  Marriage is invariably preceded by betrothment; and
the couple must then wait two years before their union can take place,
according to the law of the Calés.  During this period it is expected
that they treat each other as common acquaintance; they are permitted to
converse, and even occasionally to exchange slight presents.  One thing,
however, is strictly forbidden, and if in this instance they prove
contumacious, the betrothment is instantly broken and the pair are never
united, and thenceforward bear an evil reputation amongst their sect.
This one thing is, going into the campo in each other’s company, or
having any rendezvous beyond the gate of the city, town, or village, in
which they dwell.  Upon this point we can perhaps do no better than quote
one of their own stanzas:—

    ‘Thy sire and mother wrath and hate
       Have vowed against us, love!
    The first, first night that from the gate
       We two together rove.’

With all the other Gypsies, however, and with the Busné or Gentiles, the
betrothed female is allowed the freest intercourse, going whither she
will, and returning at all times and seasons.  With respect to the Busné,
indeed, the parents are invariably less cautious than with their own
race, as they conceive it next to an impossibility that their child
should lose her Lácha by any intercourse with _the white blood_; and true
it is that experience has proved that their confidence in this respect is
not altogether idle.  The Gitánas have in general a decided aversion to
the white men; some few instances, however, to the contrary are said to
have occurred.

A short time previous to the expiration of the term of the betrothment,
preparations are made for the Gypsy bridal.  The wedding-day is certainly
an eventful period in the life of every individual, as he takes a partner
for better or for worse, whom he is bound to cherish through riches and
poverty; but to the Gypsy particularly the wedding festival is an
important affair.  If he is rich, he frequently becomes poor before it is
terminated; and if he is poor, he loses the little which he possesses,
and must borrow of his brethren; frequently involving himself throughout
life, to procure the means of giving a festival; for without a festival,
he could not become a Rom, that is, a husband, and would cease to belong
to this sect of Rommany.

There is a great deal of what is wild and barbarous attached to these
festivals.  I shall never forget a particular one at which I was present.
After much feasting, drinking, and yelling, in the Gypsy house, the
bridal train sallied forth—a frantic spectacle.  First of all marched a
villainous jockey-looking fellow, holding in his hands, uplifted, a long
pole, at the top of which fluttered in the morning air a snow-white
cambric handkerchief, emblem of the bride’s purity.  Then came the
betrothed pair, followed by their nearest friends; then a rabble rout of
Gypsies, screaming and shouting, and discharging guns and pistols, till
all around rang with the din, and the village dogs barked.  On arriving
at the church gate, the fellow who bore the pole stuck it into the ground
with a loud huzza, and the train, forming two ranks, defiled into the
church on either side of the pole and its strange ornaments.  On the
conclusion of the ceremony, they returned in the same manner in which
they had come.

Throughout the day there was nothing going on but singing, drinking,
feasting, and dancing; but the most singular part of the festival was
reserved for the dark night.  Nearly a ton weight of sweetmeats had been
prepared, at an enormous expense, not for the gratification of the
palate, but for a purpose purely Gypsy.  These sweetmeats of all kinds,
and of all forms, but principally yémas, or yolks of eggs prepared with a
crust of sugar (a delicious bonne-bouche), were strewn on the floor of a
large room, at least to the depth of three inches.  Into this room, at a
given signal, tripped the bride and bridegroom _dancing romális_,
followed amain by all the Gitános and Gitánas, _dancing romális_.  To
convey a slight idea of the scene is almost beyond the power of words.
In a few minutes the sweetmeats were reduced to a powder, or rather to a
mud, the dancers were soiled to the knees with sugar, fruits, and yolks
of eggs.  Still more terrific became the lunatic merriment.  The men
sprang high into the air, neighed, brayed, and crowed; whilst the Gitánas
snapped their fingers in their own fashion, louder than castanets,
distorting their forms into all kinds of obscene attitudes, and uttering
words to repeat which were an abomination.  In a corner of the apartment
capered the while Sebastianillo, a convict Gypsy from Melilla, strumming
the guitar most furiously, and producing demoniacal sounds which had some
resemblance to Malbrun (Malbrouk), and, as he strummed, repeating at
intervals the Gypsy modification of the song:—

    ‘Chalá Malbrún chinguerár,
    Birandón, birandón, birandéra—
    Chalá Malbrún chinguerár,
    No sé bus truterá—
       No sé bus truterá.
          No sé bus truterá.
    La romí que le caméla,
    Birandón, birandón,’ etc.

The festival endures three days, at the end of which the greatest part of
the property of the bridegroom, even if he were previously in easy
circumstances, has been wasted in this strange kind of riot and
dissipation.  Paco, the Gypsy of Badajoz, attributed his ruin to the
extravagance of his marriage festival; and many other Gitános have
confessed the same thing of themselves.  They said that throughout the
three days they appeared to be under the influence of infatuation, having
no other wish or thought but to make away with their substance; some have
gone so far as to cast money by handfuls into the street.  Throughout the
three days all the doors are kept open, and all corners, whether Gypsies
or Busné, welcomed with a hospitality which knows no bounds.

In nothing do the Jews and Gitános more resemble each other than in their
marriages, and what is connected therewith.  In both sects there is a
betrothment: amongst the Jews for seven, amongst the Gitános for a period
of two years.  In both there is a wedding festival, which endures amongst
the Jews for fifteen and amongst the Gitános for three days, during
which, on both sides, much that is singular and barbarous occurs, which,
however, has perhaps its origin in antiquity the most remote.  But the
wedding ceremonies of the Jews are far more complex and allegorical than
those of the Gypsies, a more simple people.  The Nazarene gazes on these
ceremonies with mute astonishment; the washing of the bride—the painting
of the face of herself and her companions with chalk and carmine—her
ensconcing herself within the curtains of the bed with her female bevy,
whilst the bridegroom hides himself within his apartment with the youths
his companions—her envelopment in the white sheet, in which she appears
like a corse, the bridegroom’s going to sup with her, when he places
himself in the middle of the apartment with his eyes shut, and without
tasting a morsel.  His going to the synagogue, and then repairing to
breakfast with the bride, where he practises the same self-denial—the
washing of the bridegroom’s plate and sending it after him, that he may
break his fast—the binding his hands behind him—his ransom paid by the
bride’s mother—the visit of the sages to the bridegroom—the mulct imposed
in case he repent—the killing of the bullock at the house of the
bridegroom—the present of meat and fowls, meal and spices, to the
bride—the gold and silver—that most imposing part of the ceremony, the
walking of the bride by torchlight to the house of her betrothed, her
eyes fixed in vacancy, whilst the youths of her kindred sing their wild
songs around her—the cup of milk and the spoon presented to her by the
bridegroom’s mother—the arrival of the sages in the morn—the reading of
the Ketuba—the night—the half-enjoyment—the old woman—the tantalising
knock at the door—and then the festival of fishes which concludes all,
and leaves the jaded and wearied couple to repose after a fortnight of
persecution.

The Jews, like the Gypsies, not unfrequently ruin themselves by the riot
and waste of their marriage festivals.  Throughout the entire fortnight,
the houses, both of bride and bridegroom, are flung open to all
corners;—feasting and song occupy the day—feasting and song occupy the
hours of the night, and this continued revel is only broken by the
ceremonies of which we have endeavoured to convey a faint idea.  In these
festivals the sages or _ulemma_ take a distinguished part, doing their
utmost to ruin the contracted parties, by the wonderful despatch which
they make of the fowls and viands, sweetmeats, _and strong waters_
provided for the occasion.

After marriage the Gypsy females generally continue faithful to their
husbands through life; giving evidence that the exhortations of their
mothers in early life have not been without effect.  Of course licentious
females are to be found both amongst the matrons and the unmarried; but
such instances are rare, and must be considered in the light of
exceptions to a principle.  The Gypsy women (I am speaking of those of
Spain), as far as corporeal chastity goes, are very paragons; but in
other respects, alas!—little can be said in praise of their morality.



CHAPTER VIII


WHILST in Spain I devoted as much time as I could spare from my grand
object, which was to circulate the Gospel through that benighted country,
to attempt to enlighten the minds of the Gitános on the subject of
religion.  I cannot say that I experienced much success in my endeavours;
indeed, I never expected much, being fully acquainted with the stony
nature of the ground on which I was employed; perhaps some of the seed
that I scattered may eventually spring up and yield excellent fruit.  Of
one thing I am certain: if I did the Gitános no good, I did them no harm.

It has been said that there is a secret monitor, or conscience, within
every heart, which immediately upbraids the individual on the commission
of a crime; this may be true, but certainly the monitor within the Gitáno
breast is a very feeble one, for little attention is ever paid to its
reproofs.  With regard to conscience, be it permitted to observe, that it
varies much according to climate, country, and religion; perhaps nowhere
is it so terrible and strong as in England; I need not say why.  Amongst
the English, I have seen many individuals stricken low, and
broken-hearted, by the force of conscience; but never amongst the
Spaniards or Italians; and I never yet could observe that the crimes
which the Gitános were daily and hourly committing occasioned them the
slightest uneasiness.

One important discovery I made among them: it was, that no individual,
however wicked and hardened, is utterly _godless_.  Call it superstition,
if you will, still a certain fear and reverence of something sacred and
supreme would hang about them.  I have heard Gitános stiffly deny the
existence of a Deity, and express the utmost contempt for everything
holy; yet they subsequently never failed to contradict themselves, by
permitting some expression to escape which belied their assertions, and
of this I shall presently give a remarkable instance.

I found the women much more disposed to listen to anything I had to say
than the men, who were in general so taken up with their traffic that
they could think and talk of nothing else; the women, too, had more
curiosity and more intelligence; the conversational powers of some of
them I found to be very great, and yet they were destitute of the
slightest rudiments of education, and were thieves by profession.  At
Madrid I had regular conversaziones, or, as they are called in Spanish,
tertúlias, with these women, who generally visited me twice a week; they
were perfectly unreserved towards me with respect to their actions and
practices, though their behaviour, when present, was invariably strictly
proper.  I have already had cause to mention Pépa the sibyl, and her
daughter-in-law, Chicharona; the manners of the first were sometimes
almost elegant, though, next to Aurora, she was the most notorious
she-thug in Madrid; Chicharona was good-humoured, like most fat
personages.  Pépa had likewise two daughters, one of whom, a very
remarkable female, was called La Tuérta, from the circumstance of her
having but one eye, and the other, who was a girl of about thirteen, La
Casdamí, or the scorpion, from the malice which she occasionally
displayed.

Pépa and Chicharona were invariably my most constant visitors.  One day
in winter they arrived as usual; the One-eyed and the Scorpion following
behind.

_Myself_.—‘I am glad to see you, Pépa: what have you been doing this
morning?’

_Pépa_.—‘I have been telling baji, and Chicharona has been stealing á
pastésas; we have had but little success, and have come to warm ourselves
at the braséro.  As for the One-eyed, she is a very sluggard (holgazána),
she will neither tell fortunes nor steal.’

_The One-eyed_.—‘Hold your peace, mother of the Bengues; I will steal,
when I see occasion, but it shall not be á pastésas, and I will hokkawar
(deceive), but it shall not be by telling fortunes.  If I deceive, it
shall be by horses, by jockeying. {276}  If I steal, it shall be on the
road—I’ll rob.  You know already what I am capable of, yet knowing that,
you would have me tell fortunes like yourself, or steal like Chicharona.
Me diñela cónche (it fills me with fury) to be asked to tell fortunes,
and the next Busnee that talks to me of bajis, I will knock all her teeth
out.’

_The Scorpion_.—‘My sister is right; I, too, would sooner be a salteadóra
(highwaywoman), or a chalána (she-jockey), than steal with the hands, or
tell bájis.’

_Myself_.—‘You do not mean to say, O Tuérta, that you are a jockey, and
that you rob on the highway.’

_The One-eyed_.—‘I am a chalána, brother, and many a time I have robbed
upon the road, as all our people know.  I dress myself as a man, and go
forth with some of them.  I have robbed alone, in the pass of the
Guadarama, with my horse and escopéta.  I alone once robbed a cuadrilla
of twenty Gallégos, who were returning to their own country, after
cutting the harvests of Castile; I stripped them of their earnings, and
could have stripped them of their very clothes had I wished, for they
were down on their knees like cowards.  I love a brave man, be he Busné
or Gypsy.  When I was not much older than the Scorpion, I went with
several others to rob the cortíjo of an old man; it was more than twenty
leagues from here.  We broke in at midnight, and bound the old man: we
knew he had money; but he said no, and would not tell us where it was; so
we tortured him, pricking him with our knives and burning his hands over
the lamp; all, however, would not do.  At last I said, “Let us try the
_pimientos_”; so we took the green pepper husks, pulled open his eyelids,
and rubbed the pupils with the green pepper fruit.  That was the worst
pinch of all.  Would you believe it? the old man bore it.  Then our
people said, “Let us kill him,” but I said, no, it were a pity: so we
spared him, though we got nothing.  I have loved that old man ever since
for his firm heart, and should have wished him for a husband.’

_The Scorpion_.—‘Ojalá, that I had been in that cortíjo, to see such
sport!’

_Myself_.—‘Do you fear God, O Tuérta?’

_The One-eyed_.—‘Brother, I fear nothing.’

_Myself_.—‘Do you believe in God, O Tuérta?’

_The One-eyed_.—‘Brother, I do not; I hate all connected with that name;
the whole is folly; me diñela cónche.  If I go to church, it is but to
spit at the images.  I spat at the búlto of María this morning; and I
love the Corojai, and the Londoné, {278a} because they are not baptized.’

_Myself_.—‘You, of course, never say a prayer.’

_The One-eyed_.—‘No, no; there are three or four old words, taught me by
some old people, which I sometimes say to myself; I believe they have
both force and virtue.’

_Myself_.—‘I would fain hear; pray tell me them.’

_The One-eyed_.—‘Brother, they are words not to be repeated.’

_Myself_.—‘Why not?’

_The One-eyed_.—‘They are holy words, brother.’

_Myself_.—‘Holy!  You say there is no God; if there be none, there can be
nothing holy; pray tell me the words, O Tuérta.’

_The One-eyed_.—‘Brother, I dare not.’

_Myself_.—‘Then you do fear something.’

_The One-eyed_.—‘Not I—

    ‘_Saboca Enrecar María Ereria_, {278b}

and now I wish I had not said them.’

_Myself_.—‘You are distracted, O Tuérta: the words say simply, ‘Dwell
within us, blessed Maria.’  You have spitten on her búlto this morning in
the church, and now you are afraid to repeat four words, amongst which is
her name.’

_The One-eyed_.—‘I did not understand them; but I wish I had not said
them.’

. . . . .

I repeat that there is no individual, however hardened, who is utterly
_godless_.

The reader will have already gathered from the conversations reported in
this volume, and especially from the last, that there is a wide
difference between addressing Spanish Gitános and Gitánas and English
peasantry: of a certainty what will do well for the latter is calculated
to make no impression on these thievish half-wild people.  Try them with
the Gospel, I hear some one cry, which speaks to all: I did try them with
the Gospel, and in their own language.  I commenced with Pépa and
Chicharona.  Determined that they should understand it, I proposed that
they themselves should translate it.  They could neither read nor write,
which, however, did not disqualify them from being translators.  I had
myself previously translated the whole Testament into the Spanish
Rommany, but I was desirous to circulate amongst the Gitános a version
conceived in the exact language in which they express their ideas.  The
women made no objection, they were fond of our tertúlias, and they
likewise reckoned on one small glass of Malaga wine, with which I
invariably presented them.  Upon the whole, they conducted themselves
much better than could have been expected.  We commenced with Saint Luke:
they rendering into Rommany the sentences which I delivered to them in
Spanish.  They proceeded as far as the eighth chapter, in the middle of
which they broke down.  Was that to be wondered at?  The only thing which
astonished me was, that I had induced two such strange beings to advance
so far in a task so unwonted, and so entirely at variance with their
habits, as translation.

These chapters I frequently read over to them, explaining the subject in
the best manner I was able.  They said it was lachó, and jucál, and
mistó, all of which words express approval of the quality of a thing.
Were they improved, were their hearts softened by these Scripture
lectures?  I know not.  Pépa committed a rather daring theft shortly
afterwards, which compelled her to conceal herself for a fortnight; it is
quite possible, however, that she may remember the contents of those
chapters on her death-bed; if so, will the attempt have been a futile
one?

I completed the translation, supplying deficiencies from my own version
begun at Badajoz in 1836.  This translation I printed at Madrid in 1838;
it was the first book which ever appeared in Rommany, and was called
‘Embéo e Majaro Lucas,’ or Gospel of Luke the Saint.  I likewise
published, simultaneously, the same Gospel in Basque, which, however, I
had no opportunity of circulating.

The Gitános of Madrid purchased the Gypsy Luke freely: many of the men
understood it, and prized it highly, induced of course more by the
language than the doctrine; the women were particularly anxious to obtain
copies, though unable to read; but each wished to have one in her pocket,
especially when engaged in thieving expeditions, for they all looked upon
it in the light of a charm, which would preserve them from all danger and
mischance; some even went so far as to say, that in this respect it was
equally efficacious as the Bar Lachí, or loadstone, which they are in
general so desirous of possessing.  Of this Gospel {281} five hundred
copies were printed, of which the greater number I contrived to circulate
amongst the Gypsies in various parts; I cast the book upon the waters and
left it to its destiny.

I have counted seventeen Gitánas assembled at one time in my apartment in
the Calle de Santiágo in Madrid; for the first quarter of an hour we
generally discoursed upon indifferent matters, I then by degrees drew
their attention to religion and the state of souls.  I finally became so
bold that I ventured to speak against their inveterate practices,
thieving and lying, telling fortunes, and stealing á pastésas; this was
touching upon delicate ground, and I experienced much opposition and much
feminine clamour.  I persevered, however, and they finally assented to
all I said, not that I believe that my words made much impression upon
their hearts.  In a few months matters were so far advanced that they
would sing a hymn; I wrote one expressly for them in Rommany, in which
their own wild couplets were, to a certain extent, imitated.

The people of the street in which I lived, seeing such numbers of these
strange females continually passing in and out, were struck with
astonishment, and demanded the reason.  The answers which they obtained
by no means satisfied them.  ‘Zeal for the conversion of souls,—the souls
too of Gitánas,—disparáte! the fellow is a scoundrel.  Besides he is an
Englishman, and is not baptized; what cares he for souls?  They visit him
for other purposes.  He makes base ounces, which they carry away and
circulate.  Madrid is already stocked with false money.’  Others were of
opinion that we met for the purposes of sorcery and abomination.  The
Spaniard has no conception that other springs of action exist than
interest or villainy.

My little congregation, if such I may call it, consisted entirely of
women; the men seldom or never visited me, save they stood in need of
something which they hoped to obtain from me.  This circumstance I little
regretted, their manners and conversation being the reverse of
interesting.  It must not, however, be supposed that, even with the
women, matters went on invariably in a smooth and satisfactory manner.
The following little anecdote will show what slight dependence can be
placed upon them, and how disposed they are at all times to take part in
what is grotesque and malicious.  One day they arrived, attended by a
Gypsy jockey whom I had never previously seen.  We had scarcely been
seated a minute, when this fellow, rising, took me to the window, and
without any preamble or circumlocution, said—‘Don Jorge, you shall lend
me two barias’ (ounces of gold).   ‘Not to your whole race, my excellent
friend,’ said I; ‘are you frantic?  Sit down and be discreet.’  He obeyed
me literally, sat down, and when the rest departed, followed with them.
We did not invariably meet at my own house, but occasionally at one in a
street inhabited by Gypsies.  On the appointed day I went to this house,
where I found the women assembled; the jockey was also present.  On
seeing me he advanced, again took me aside, and again said—‘Don Jorge,
you shall lend me two barias.’  I made him no answer, but at once entered
on the subject which brought me thither.  I spoke for some time in
Spanish; I chose for the theme of my discourse the situation of the
Hebrews in Egypt, and pointed out its similarity to that of the Gitános
in Spain.  I spoke of the power of God, manifested in preserving both as
separate and distinct people amongst the nations until the present day.
I warmed with my subject.  I subsequently produced a manuscript book,
from which I read a portion of Scripture, and the Lord’s Prayer and
Apostles’ Creed, in Rommany.  When I had concluded I looked around me.

The features of the assembly were twisted, and the eyes of all turned
upon me with a frightful squint; not an individual present but
squinted,—the genteel Pépa, the good-humoured Chicharona, the Casdamí,
etc. etc.  The Gypsy fellow, the contriver of the jest, squinted worst of
all.  Such are Gypsies.



THE ZINCALI
PART III


CHAPTER I


THERE is no nation in the world, however exalted or however degraded, but
is in possession of some peculiar poetry.  If the Chinese, the Hindoos,
the Greeks, and the Persians, those splendid and renowned races, have
their moral lays, their mythological epics, their tragedies, and their
immortal love songs, so also have the wild and barbarous tribes of
Soudan, and the wandering Esquimaux, their ditties, which, however
insignificant in comparison with the compositions of the former nations,
still are entitled in every essential point to the name of poetry; if
poetry mean metrical compositions intended to soothe and recreate the
mind fatigued by the cares, distresses, and anxieties to which mortality
is subject.

The Gypsies too have their poetry.  Of that of the Russian Zigani we have
already said something.  It has always been our opinion, and we believe
that in this we are by no means singular, that in nothing can the
character of a people be read with greater certainty and exactness than
in its songs.  How truly do the warlike ballads of the Northmen and the
Danes, their _drapas_ and _kæmpe-viser_, depict the character of the
Goth; and how equally do the songs of the Arabians, replete with homage
to the one high, uncreated, and eternal God, ‘the fountain of blessing,’
‘the only conqueror,’ lay bare to us the mind of the Moslem of the
desert, whose grand characteristic is religious veneration, and
uncompromising zeal for the glory of the Creator.

And well and truly do the coplas and gachaplas of the Gitános depict the
character of the race.  This poetry, for poetry we will call it, is in
most respects such as might be expected to originate among people of
their class; a set of Thugs, subsisting by cheating and villainy of every
description; hating the rest of the human species, and bound to each
other by the bonds of common origin, language, and pursuits.  The general
themes of this poetry are the various incidents of Gitáno life and the
feelings of the Gitános.  A Gypsy sees a pig running down a hill, and
imagines that it cries ‘Ustilame Caloro!’ {288}—a Gypsy reclining sick on
the prison floor beseeches his wife to intercede with the alcayde for the
removal of the chain, the weight of which is bursting his body—the moon
arises, and two Gypsies, who are about to steal a steed, perceive a
Spaniard, and instantly flee—Juanito Ralli, whilst going home on his
steed, is stabbed by a Gypsy who hates him—Facundo, a Gypsy, runs away at
the sight of the burly priest of Villa Franca, who hates all Gypsies.
Sometimes a burst of wild temper gives occasion to a strain—the swarthy
lover threatens to slay his betrothed, even _at the feet of Jesus_,
should she prove unfaithful.  It is a general opinion amongst the Gitános
that Spanish women are very fond of Rommany chals and Rommany.  There is
a stanza in which a Gitáno hopes to bear away a beauty of Spanish race by
means of a word of Rommany whispered in her ear at the window.

Amongst these effusions are even to be found tender and beautiful
thoughts; for Thugs and Gitános have their moments of gentleness.  True
it is that such are few and far between, as a flower or a shrub is here
and there seen springing up from the interstices of the rugged and
frightful rocks of which the Spanish sierras are composed: a wicked
mother is afraid to pray to the Lord with her own lips, and calls on her
innocent babe to beseech him to restore peace and comfort to her heart—an
imprisoned youth appears to have no earthly friend on whom he can rely,
save his sister, and wishes for a messenger to carry unto her the tale of
his sufferings, confident that she would hasten at once to his
assistance.  And what can be more touching than the speech of the
relenting lover to the fair one whom he has outraged?

    ‘Extend to me the hand so small,
    Wherein I see thee weep,
    For O thy balmy tear-drops all
    I would collect and keep.’

This Gypsy poetry consists of quartets, or rather couplets, but two
rhymes being discernible, and those generally imperfect, the vowels alone
agreeing in sound.  Occasionally, however, sixains, or stanzas of six
lines, are to be found, but this is of rare occurrence.  The thought,
anecdote or adventure described, is seldom carried beyond one stanza, in
which everything is expressed which the poet wishes to impart.  This
feature will appear singular to those who are unacquainted with the
character of the popular poetry of the south, and are accustomed to the
redundancy and frequently tedious repetition of a more polished muse.  It
will be well to inform such that the greater part of the poetry sung in
the south, and especially in Spain, is extemporary.  The musician
composes it at the stretch of his voice, whilst his fingers are tugging
at the guitar; which style of composition is by no means favourable to a
long and connected series of thought.  Of course, the greater part of
this species of poetry perishes as soon as born.  A stanza, however, is
sometimes caught up by the bystanders, and committed to memory; and being
frequently repeated, makes, in time, the circuit of the country.  For
example, the stanza about Coruncho Lopez, which was originally made at
the gate of a venta by a Miquelet, {290} who was conducting the said
Lopez to the galleys for a robbery.  It is at present sung through the
whole of the peninsula, however insignificant it may sound to foreign
ears:—

    ‘Coruncho Lopez, gallant lad,
       A smuggling he would ride;
    He stole his father’s ambling prad,
    And therefore to the galleys sad
       Coruncho now I guide.’

The couplets of the Gitános are composed in the same off-hand manner, and
exactly resemble in metre the popular ditties of the Spaniards.  In
spirit, however, as well as language, they are in general widely
different, as they mostly relate to the Gypsies and their affairs, and
not unfrequently abound with abuse of the Busné or Spaniards.  Many of
these creations have, like the stanza of Coruncho Lopez, been wafted over
Spain amongst the Gypsy tribes, and are even frequently repeated by the
Spaniards themselves; at least, by those who affect to imitate the
phraseology of the Gitános.  Those which appear in the present collection
consist partly of such couplets, and partly of such as we have ourselves
taken down, as soon as they originated, not unfrequently in the midst of
a circle of these singular people, dancing and singing to their wild
music.  In no instance have they been subjected to modification; and the
English translation is, in general, very faithful to the original, as
will easily be perceived by referring to the lexicon.  To those who may
feel disposed to find fault with or criticise these songs, we have to
observe, that the present work has been written with no other view than
to depict the Gitános such as they are, and to illustrate their
character; and, on that account, we have endeavoured, as much as
possible, to bring them before the reader, and to make them speak for
themselves.  They are a half-civilised, unlettered people, proverbial for
a species of knavish acuteness, which serves them in lieu of wisdom.  To
place in the mouth of such beings the high-flown sentiments of modern
poetry would not answer our purpose, though several authors have not
shrunk from such an absurdity.

These couplets have been collected in Estremadura and New Castile, in
Valencia and Andalusia; the four provinces where the Gitáno race most
abounds.  We wish, however, to remark, that they constitute scarcely a
tenth part of our original gleanings, from which we have selected one
hundred of the most remarkable and interesting.

The language of the originals will convey an exact idea of the Rommany of
Spain, as used at the present day amongst the Gitános in the fairs, when
they are buying and selling animals, and wish to converse with each other
in a way unintelligible to the Spaniards.  We are free to confess that it
is a mere broken jargon, but it answers the purpose of those who use it;
and it is but just to remark that many of its elements are of the most
remote antiquity, and the most illustrious descent, as will be shown
hereafter.  We have uniformly placed the original by the side of the
translation; for though unwilling to make the Gitános speak in any other
manner than they are accustomed, we are equally averse to have it
supposed that many of the thoughts and expressions which occur in these
songs, and which are highly objectionable, originated with ourselves.
{292}


RHYMES OF THE GITÁNOS


   Unto a refuge me they led,
      To save from dungeon drear;
   Then sighing to my wife I said,
      I leave my baby dear.

   Back from the refuge soon I sped,
      My child’s sweet face to see;
   Then sternly to my wife I said,
      You’ve seen the last of me.

   O when I sit my courser bold,
      My bantling in my rear,
   And in my hand my musket hold,
      O how they quake with fear.

   Pray, little baby, pray the Lord,
      Since guiltless still thou art,
   That peace and comfort he afford
      To this poor troubled heart.

   The false Juanito, day and night,
      Had best with caution go,
   The Gypsy carles of Yeira height
      Have sworn to lay him low.

   There runs a swine down yonder hill,
      As fast as e’er he can,
   And as he runs he crieth still,
      Come, steal me, Gypsy man.

   I wash’d not in the limpid flood
      The shirt which binds my frame;
   But in Juanito Ralli’s blood
      I bravely wash’d the same.

   I sallied forth upon my grey,
      With him my hated foe,
   And when we reach’d the narrow way
      I dealt a dagger blow.

   To blessed Jesus’ holy feet
      I’d rush to kill and slay
   My plighted lass so fair and sweet,
      Should she the wanton play.

   I for a cup of water cried,
      But they refus’d my prayer,
   Then straight into the road I hied,
      And fell to robbing there.

   I ask’d for fire to warm my frame,
      But they’d have scorn’d my prayer,
   If I, to pay them for the same,
      Had stripp’d my body bare.

   Then came adown the village street,
      With little babes that cry,
   Because they have no crust to eat,
      A Gypsy company;
   And as no charity they meet,
      They curse the Lord on high.

   I left my house and walk’d about,
      They seized me fast and bound;
   It is a Gypsy thief, they shout,
      The Spaniards here have found.

   From out the prison me they led,
      Before the scribe they brought;
   It is no Gypsy thief, he said,
      The Spaniards here have caught.

   Throughout the night, the dusky night,
      I prowl in silence round,
   And with my eyes look left and right,
      For him, the Spanish hound,
   That with my knife I him may smite,
      And to the vitals wound.

   Will no one to the sister bear
      News of her brother’s plight,
   How in this cell of dark despair,
      To cruel death he’s dight?

   The Lord, as e’en the Gentiles state,
      By Egypt’s race was bred,
   And when he came to man’s estate,
      His blood the Gentiles shed.

   O never with the Gentiles wend,
      Nor deem their speeches true;
   Or else, be certain in the end
      Thy blood will lose its hue.

   From out the prison me they bore,
      Upon an ass they placed,
   And scourg’d me till I dripp’d with gore,
      As down the road it paced.

   They bore me from the prison nook,
      They bade me rove at large;
   When out I’d come a gun I took,
      And scathed them with its charge.

   My mule so bonny I bestrode,
      To Portugal I’d flee,
   And as I o’er the water rode
      A man came suddenly;
   And he his love and kindness show’d
      By setting his dog on me.

   Unless within a fortnight’s space
      Thy face, O maid, I see;
   Flamenca, of Egyptian race,
      My lady love shall be.

   Flamenca, of Egyptian race,
      If thou wert only mine,
   Within a bonny crystal case
      For life I’d thee enshrine.

   Sire nor mother me caress,
      For I have none on earth;
   One little brother I possess,
      And he’s a fool by birth.

   Thy sire and mother wrath and hate
      Have vow’d against me, love!
   The first, first night that from the gate
      We two together rove.

   Come to the window, sweet love, do,
      And I will whisper there,
   In Rommany, a word or two,
      And thee far off will bear.

   A Gypsy stripling’s sparkling eye
      Has pierced my bosom’s core,
   A feat no eye beneath the sky
      Could e’er effect before.

   Dost bid me from the land begone,
      And thou with child by me?
   Each time I come, the little one,
      I’ll greet in Rommany.

   With such an ugly, loathly wife
      The Lord has punish’d me;
   I dare not take her for my life
      Where’er the Spaniards be.

   O, I am not of gentle clan,
      I’m sprung from Gypsy tree;
   And I will be no gentleman,
      But an Egyptian free.

   On high arose the moon so fair,
      The Gypsy ’gan to sing:
   I see a Spaniard coming there,
      I must be on the wing.

   This house of harlotry doth smell,
      I flee as from the pest;
   Your mother likes my sire too well;
      To hie me home is best.

   The girl I love more dear than life,
      Should other gallant woo,
   I’d straight unsheath my dudgeon knife
      And cut his weasand through;
   Or he, the conqueror in the strife,
      The same to me should do.

   Loud sang the Spanish cavalier,
      And thus his ditty ran:
   God send the Gypsy lassie here,
      And not the Gypsy man.

   At midnight, when the moon began
      To show her silver flame,
   There came to him no Gypsy man,
      The Gypsy lassie came.



CHAPTER II


THE Gitános, abject and vile as they have ever been, have nevertheless
found admirers in Spain, individuals who have taken pleasure in their
phraseology, pronunciation, and way of life; but above all, in the songs
and dances of the females.  This desire for cultivating their
acquaintance is chiefly prevalent in Andalusia, where, indeed, they most
abound; and more especially in the town of Seville, the capital of the
province, where, in the barrio or Faubourg of Triana, a large Gitáno
colon has long flourished, with the denizens of which it is at all times
easy to have intercourse, especially to those who are free of their
money, and are willing to purchase such a gratification at the expense of
dollars and pesetas.

When we consider the character of the Andalusians in general, we shall
find little to surprise us in this predilection for the Gitános.  They
are an indolent frivolous people, fond of dancing and song, and sensual
amusements.  They live under the most glorious sun and benign heaven in
Europe, and their country is by nature rich and fertile, yet in no
province of Spain is there more beggary and misery; the greater part of
the land being uncultivated, and producing nothing but thorns and
brushwood, affording in itself a striking emblem of the moral state of
its inhabitants.

Though not destitute of talent, the Andalusians are not much addicted to
intellectual pursuits, at least in the present day.  The person in most
esteem among them is invariably the greatest _majo_, and to acquire that
character it is necessary to appear in the dress of a Merry Andrew, to
bully, swagger, and smoke continually, to dance passably, and to strum
the guitar.  They are fond of obscenity and what they term _picardías_.
Amongst them learning is at a terrible discount, Greek, Latin, or any of
the languages generally termed learned, being considered in any light but
accomplishments, but not so the possession of thieves’ slang or the
dialect of the Gitános, the knowledge of a few words of which invariably
creates a certain degree of respect, as indicating that the individual is
somewhat versed in that kind of life or _trato_ for which alone the
Andalusians have any kind of regard.

In Andalusia the Gitáno has been studied by those who, for various
reasons, have mingled with the Gitános.  It is tolerably well understood
by the chalans, or jockeys, who have picked up many words in the fairs
and market-places which the former frequent.  It has, however, been
cultivated to a greater degree by other individuals, who have sought the
society of the Gitános from a zest for their habits, their dances, and
their songs; and such individuals have belonged to all classes, amongst
them have been noblemen and members of the priestly order.

Perhaps no people in Andalusia have been more addicted in general to the
acquaintance of the Gitános than the friars, and pre-eminently amongst
these the half-jockey half-religious personages of the Cartujan convent
at Xeres.  This community, now suppressed, was, as is well known, in
possession of a celebrated breed of horses, which fed in the pastures of
the convent, and from which they derived no inconsiderable part of their
revenue.  These reverend gentlemen seem to have been much better versed
in the points of a horse than in points of theology, and to have
understood thieves’ slang and Gitáno far better than the language of the
Vulgate.  A chalan, who had some knowledge of the Gitáno, related to me
the following singular anecdote in connection with this subject.

He had occasion to go to the convent, having been long in treaty with the
friars for a steed which he had been commissioned by a nobleman to buy at
any reasonable price.  The friars, however, were exorbitant in their
demands.  On arriving at the gate, he sang to the friar who opened it a
couplet which he had composed in the Gypsy tongue, in which he stated the
highest price which he was authorised to give for the animal in question;
whereupon the friar instantly answered in the same tongue in an
extemporary couplet full of abuse of him and his employer, and forthwith
slammed the door in the face of the disconcerted jockey.

An Augustine friar of Seville, called, we believe, Father Manso, who
lived some twenty years ago, is still remembered for his passion for the
Gitános; he seemed to be under the influence of fascination, and passed
every moment that he could steal from his clerical occupations in their
company.  His conduct at last became so notorious that he fell under the
censure of the Inquisition, before which he was summoned; whereupon he
alleged, in his defence, that his sole motive for following the Gitános
was zeal for their spiritual conversion.  Whether this plea availed him
we know not; but it is probable that the Holy Office dealt mildly with
him; such offenders, indeed, have never had much to fear from it.  Had he
been accused of liberalism, or searching into the Scriptures, instead of
connection with the Gitános, we should, doubtless, have heard either of
his execution or imprisonment for life in the cells of the cathedral of
Seville.

Such as are thus addicted to the Gitános and their language, are called,
in Andalusia, Los del’ Aficion, or those of the predilection.  These
people have, during the last fifty years, composed a spurious kind of
Gypsy literature: we call it spurious because it did not originate with
the Gitános, who are, moreover, utterly unacquainted with it, and to whom
it would be for the most part unintelligible.  It is somewhat difficult
to conceive the reason which induced these individuals to attempt such
compositions; the only probable one seems to have been a desire to
display to each other their skill in the language of their predilection.
It is right, however, to observe, that most of these compositions, with
respect to language, are highly absurd, the greatest liberties being
taken with the words picked up amongst the Gitános, of the true meaning
of which the writers, in many instances, seem to have been entirely
ignorant.  From what we can learn, the composers of this literature
flourished chiefly at the commencement of the present century: Father
Manso is said to have been one of the last.  Many of their compositions,
which are both in poetry and prose, exist in manuscript in a compilation
made by one Luis Lobo.  It has never been our fortune to see this
compilation, which, indeed, we scarcely regret, as a rather curious
circumstance has afforded us a perfect knowledge of its contents.

Whilst at Seville, chance made us acquainted with a highly extraordinary
individual, a tall, bony, meagre figure, in a tattered Andalusian hat,
ragged capote, and still more ragged pantaloons, and seemingly between
forty and fifty years of age.  The only appellation to which he answered
was Manuel.  His occupation, at the time we knew him, was selling tickets
for the lottery, by which he obtained a miserable livelihood in Seville
and the neighbouring villages.  His appearance was altogether wild and
uncouth, and there was an insane expression in his eye.  Observing us one
day in conversation with a Gitána, he addressed us, and we soon found
that the sound of the Gitáno language had struck a chord which vibrated
through the depths of his soul.  His history was remarkable; in his early
youth a manuscript copy of the compilation of Luis Lobo had fallen into
his hands.  This book had so taken hold of his imagination, that he
studied it night and day until he had planted it in his memory from
beginning to end; but in so doing, his brain, like that of the hero of
Cervantes, had become dry and heated, so that he was unfitted for any
serious or useful occupation.  After the death of his parents he wandered
about the streets in great distress, until at last he fell into the hands
of certain toreros, or bull-fighters, who kept him about them, in order
that he might repeat to them the songs of the _Aficion_.  They
subsequently carried him to Madrid, where, however, they soon deserted
him after he had experienced much brutality from their hands.  He
returned to Seville, and soon became the inmate of a madhouse, where he
continued several years.  Having partially recovered from his malady, he
was liberated, and wandered about as before.  During the cholera at
Seville, when nearly twenty thousand human beings perished, he was
appointed conductor of one of the death-carts, which went through the
streets for the purpose of picking up the dead bodies.  His perfect
inoffensiveness eventually procured him friends, and he obtained the
situation of vendor of lottery tickets.  He frequently visited us, and
would then recite long passages from the work of Lobo.  He was wont to
say that he was the only one in Seville, at the present day, acquainted
with the language of the Aficion; for though there were many pretenders,
their knowledge was confined to a few words.

From the recitation of this individual, we wrote down the Brijindope, or
Deluge, and the poem on the plague which broke out in Seville in the year
1800.  These and some songs of less consequence, constitute the poetical
part of the compilation in question; the rest, which is in prose,
consisting chiefly of translations from the Spanish, of proverbs and
religious pieces.


BRIJINDOPE.—THE DELUGE {304}
A POEM: IN TWO PARTS


                              PART THE FIRST

   I with fear and terror quake,
   Whilst the pen to write I take;
   I will utter many a pray’r
   To the heaven’s Regent fair,
   That she deign to succour me,
   And I’ll humbly bend my knee;
   For but poorly do I know
   With my subject on to go;
   Therefore is my wisest plan
   Not to trust in strength of man.
   I my heavy sins bewail,
   Whilst I view the wo and wail
   Handed down so solemnly
   In the book of times gone by.
   Onward, onward, now I’ll move
   In the name of Christ above,
   And his Mother true and dear,
   She who loves the wretch to cheer.
   All I know, and all I’ve heard
   I will state—how God appear’d
   And to Noah thus did cry:
   Weary with the world am I;
   Let an ark by thee be built,
   For the world is lost in guilt;
   And when thou hast built it well,
   Loud proclaim what now I tell:
   Straight repent ye, for your Lord
   In his hand doth hold a sword.
   And good Noah thus did call:
   Straight repent ye one and all,
   For the world with grief I see
   Lost in vileness utterly.
   God’s own mandate I but do,
   He hath sent me unto you.
   Laugh’d the world to bitter scorn,
   I his cruel sufferings mourn;
   Brawny youths with furious air
   Drag the Patriarch by the hair;
   Lewdness governs every one:
   Leaves her convent now the nun,
   And the monk abroad I see
   Practising iniquity.
   Now I’ll tell how God, intent
   To avenge, a vapour sent,
   With full many a dreadful sign—
   Mighty, mighty fear is mine:
   As I hear the thunders roll,
   Seems to die my very soul;
   As I see the world o’erspread
   All with darkness thick and dread;
   I the pen can scarcely ply
   For the tears which dim my eye,
   And o’ercome with grievous wo,
   Fear the task I must forego
   I have purposed to perform.—
   Hark, I hear upon the storm
   Thousand, thousand devils fly,
   Who with awful howlings cry:
   Now’s the time and now’s the hour,
   We have licence, we have power
   To obtain a glorious prey.—
   I with horror turn away;
   Tumbles house and tumbles wall;
   Thousands lose their lives and all,
   Voiding curses, screams and groans,
   For the beams, the bricks and stones
   Bruise and bury all below—
   Nor is that the worst, I trow,
   For the clouds begin to pour
   Floods of water more and more,
   Down upon the world with might,
   Never pausing day or night.
   Now in terrible distress
   All to God their cries address,
   And his Mother dear adore,—
   But the time of grace is o’er,
   For the Almighty in the sky
   Holds his hand upraised on high.
   Now’s the time of madden’d rout,
   Hideous cry, despairing shout;
   Whither, whither shall they fly?
   For the danger threat’ningly
   Draweth near on every side,
   And the earth, that’s opening wide,
   Swallows thousands in its womb,
   Who would ‘scape the dreadful doom.
   Of dear hope exists no gleam,
   Still the water down doth stream;
   Ne’er so little a creeping thing
   But from out its hold doth spring:
   See the mouse, and see its mate
   Scour along, nor stop, nor wait;
   See the serpent and the snake
   For the nearest highlands make;
   The tarantula I view,
   Emmet small and cricket too,
   All unknowing where to fly,
   In the stifling waters die.
   See the goat and bleating sheep,
   See the bull with bellowings deep.
   And the rat with squealings shrill,
   They have mounted on the hill:
   See the stag, and see the doe,
   How together fond they go;
   Lion, tiger-beast, and pard,
   To escape are striving hard:
   Followed by her little ones,
   See the hare how swift she runs:
   Asses, he and she, a pair.
   Mute and mule with bray and blare,
   And the rabbit and the fox,
   Hurry over stones and rocks,
   With the grunting hog and horse,
   Till at last they stop their course—
   On the summit of the hill
   All assembled stand they still;
   In the second part I’ll tell
   Unto them what there befell.

                             PART THE SECOND

   When I last did bid farewell,
   I proposed the world to tell,
   Higher as the Deluge flow’d,
   How the frog and how the toad,
   With the lizard and the eft,
   All their holes and coverts left,
   And assembled on the height;
   Soon I ween appeared in sight
   All that’s wings beneath the sky,
   Bat and swallow, wasp and fly,
   Gnat and sparrow, and behind
   Comes the crow of carrion kind;
   Dove and pigeon are descried,
   And the raven fiery-eyed,
   With the beetle and the crane
   Flying on the hurricane:
   See they find no resting-place,
   For the world’s terrestrial space
   Is with water cover’d o’er,
   Soon they sink to rise no more:
   ‘To our father let us flee!’
   Straight the ark-ship openeth he,
   And to everything that lives
   Kindly he admission gives.
   Of all kinds a single pair,
   And the members safely there
   Of his house he doth embark,
   Then at once he shuts the ark;
   Everything therein has pass’d,
   There he keeps them safe and fast.
   O’er the mountain’s topmost peak
   Now the raging waters break.
   Till full twenty days are o’er,
   ‘Midst the elemental roar,
   Up and down the ark forlorn,
   Like some evil thing is borne:
   O what grief it is to see
   Swimming on the enormous sea
   Human corses pale and white,
   More, alas! than I can write:
   O what grief, what grief profound,
   But to think the world is drown’d:
   True a scanty few are left,
   All are not of life bereft,
   So that, when the Lord ordain,
   They may procreate again,
   In a world entirely new,
   Better people and more true,
   To their Maker who shall bow;
   And I humbly beg you now,
   Ye in modern times who wend,
   That your lives ye do amend;
   For no wat’ry punishment,
   But a heavier shall be sent;
   For the blessed saints pretend
   That the latter world shall end
   To tremendous fire a prey,
   And to ashes sink away.
   To the Ark I now go back,
   Which pursues its dreary track,
   Lost and ‘wilder’d till the Lord
   In his mercy rest accord.
   Early of a morning tide
   They unclosed a window wide,
   Heaven’s beacon to descry,
   And a gentle dove let fly,
   Of the world to seek some trace,
   And in two short hours’ space
   It returns with eyes that glow,
   In its beak an olive bough.
   With a loud and mighty sound,
   They exclaim: ‘The world we’ve found.’
   To a mountain nigh they drew,
   And when there themselves they view,
   Bound they swiftly on the shore,
   And their fervent thanks outpour,
   Lowly kneeling to their God;
   Then their way a couple trod,
   Man and woman, hand in hand,
   Bent to populate the land,
   To the Moorish region fair—
   And another two repair
   To the country of the Gaul;
   In this manner wend they all,
   And the seeds of nations lay.
   I beseech ye’ll credence pay,
   For our father, high and sage,
   Wrote the tale in sacred page,
   As a record to the world,
   Record sad of vengeance hurl’d.
   I, a low and humble wight,
   Beg permission now to write
   Unto all that in our land
   Tongue Egyptian understand.
   May our Virgin Mother mild
   Grant to me, her erring child,
   Plenteous grace in every way,
   And success.  Amen I say.

                              THE PESTILENCE

   I’m resolved now to tell
   In the speech of Gypsy-land
   All the horror that befell
   In this city huge and grand.

   In the eighteenth hundred year
   In the midst of summertide,
   God, with man dissatisfied,
   His right hand on high did rear,
   With a rigour most severe;
   Whence we well might understand
   He would strict account demand
   Of our lives and actions here.
   The dread event to render clear
   Now the pen I take in hand.

   At the dread event aghast,
   Straight the world reform’d its course;
   Yet is sin in greater force,
   Now the punishment is past;
   For the thought of God is cast
   All and utterly aside,
   As if death itself had died.
   Therefore to the present race
   These memorial lines I trace
   In old Egypt’s tongue of pride.

   As the streets you wander’d through
   How you quail’d with fear and dread,
   Heaps of dying and of dead
   At the leeches’ door to view.
   To the tavern O how few
   To regale on wine repair;
   All a sickly aspect wear.
   Say what heart such sights could brook—
   Wail and woe where’er you look—
   Wail and woe and ghastly care.

   Plying fast their rosaries,
   See the people pace the street,
   And for pardon God entreat
   Long and loud with streaming eyes.
   And the carts of various size,
   Piled with corses, high in air,
   To the plain their burden bear.
   O what grief it is to me
   Not a friar or priest to see
   In this city huge and fair.


ON THE LANGUAGE OF THE GITÁNOS


    ‘I am not very willing that any language should be totally
    extinguished; the similitude and derivation of languages afford the
    most indubitable proof of the traduction of nations, and the
    genealogy of mankind; they add often physical certainty to historical
    evidence of ancient migrations, and of the revolutions of ages which
    left no written monuments behind them.’—JOHNSON.

THE Gypsy dialect of Spain is at present very much shattered and broken,
being rather the fragments of the language which the Gypsies brought with
them from the remote regions of the East than the language itself: it
enables, however, in its actual state, the Gitános to hold conversation
amongst themselves, the import of which is quite dark and mysterious to
those who are not of their race, or by some means have become acquainted
with their vocabulary.  The relics of this tongue, singularly curious in
themselves, must be ever particularly interesting to the philological
antiquarian, inasmuch as they enable him to arrive at a satisfactory
conclusion respecting the origin of the Gypsy race.  During the later
part of the last century, the curiosity of some learned individuals,
particularly Grellmann, Richardson, and Marsden, induced them to collect
many words of the Romanian language, as spoken in Germany, Hungary, and
England, which, upon analysing, they discovered to be in general either
pure Sanscrit or Hindustani words, or modifications thereof; these
investigations have been continued to the present time by men of equal
curiosity and no less erudition, the result of which has been the
establishment of the fact, that the Gypsies of those countries are the
descendants of a tribe of Hindus who for some particular reason had
abandoned their native country.  In England, of late, the Gypsies have
excited particular attention; but a desire far more noble and laudable
than mere antiquarian curiosity has given rise to it, namely, the desire
of propagating the glory of Christ amongst those who know Him not, and of
saving souls from the jaws of the infernal wolf.  It is, however, with
the Gypsies of Spain, and not with those of England and other countries,
that we are now occupied, and we shall merely mention the latter so far
as they may serve to elucidate the case of the Gitános, their brethren by
blood and language.  Spain for many centuries has been the country of
error; she has mistaken stern and savage tyranny for rational government;
base, low, and grovelling superstition for clear, bright, and
soul-ennobling religion; sordid cheating she has considered as the path
to riches; vexatious persecution as the path to power; and the
consequence has been, that she is now poor and powerless, a pagan amongst
the pagans, with a dozen kings, and with none.  Can we be surprised,
therefore, that, mistaken in policy, religion, and moral conduct, she
should have fallen into error on points so naturally dark and mysterious
as the history and origin of those remarkable people whom for the last
four hundred years she has supported under the name of Gitános?  The idea
entertained at the present day in Spain respecting this race is, that
they are the descendants of the Moriscos who remained in Spain, wandering
about amongst the mountains and wildernesses, after the expulsion of the
great body of the nation from the country in the time of Philip the
Third, and that they form a distinct body, entirely unconnected with the
wandering tribes known in other countries by the names of Bohemians,
Gypsies, etc.  This, like all unfounded opinions, of course originated in
ignorance, which is always ready to have recourse to conjecture and
guesswork, in preference to travelling through the long, mountainous, and
stony road of patient investigation; it is, however, an error far more
absurd and more destitute of tenable grounds than the ancient belief that
the Gitános were Egyptians, which they themselves have always professed
to be, and which the original written documents which they brought with
them on their first arrival in Western Europe, and which bore the
signature of the king of Bohemia, expressly stated them to be.  The only
clue to arrive at any certainty respecting their origin, is the language
which they still speak amongst themselves; but before we can avail
ourselves of the evidence of this language, it will be necessary to make
a few remarks respecting the principal languages and dialects of that
immense tract of country, peopled by at least eighty millions of human
beings, generally known by the name of Hindustan, two Persian words
tantamount to the land of Ind, or, the land watered by the river Indus.

The most celebrated of these languages is the Sanskrida, or, as it is
known in Europe, the Sanscrit, which is the language of religion of all
those nations amongst whom the faith of Brahma has been adopted; but
though the language of religion, by which we mean the tongue in which the
religious books of the Brahmanic sect were originally written and are
still preserved, it has long since ceased to be a spoken language;
indeed, history is silent as to any period when it was a language in
common use amongst any of the various tribes of the Hindus; its
knowledge, as far as reading and writing it went, having been entirely
confined to the priests of Brahma, or Brahmans, until within the last
half-century, when the British, having subjugated the whole of Hindustan,
caused it to be openly taught in the colleges which they established for
the instruction of their youth in the languages of the country.  Though
sufficiently difficult to acquire, principally on account of its
prodigious richness in synonyms, it is no longer a sealed language,—its
laws, structure, and vocabulary being sufficiently well known by means of
numerous elementary works, adapted to facilitate its study.  It has been
considered by famous philologists as the mother not only of all the
languages of Asia, but of all others in the world.  So wild and
preposterous an idea, however, only serves to prove that a devotion to
philology, whose principal object should be the expansion of the mind by
the various treasures of learning and wisdom which it can unlock,
sometimes only tends to its bewilderment, by causing it to embrace
shadows for reality.  The most that can be allowed, in reason, to the
Sanscrit is that it is the mother of a certain class or family of
languages, for example, those spoken in Hindustan, with which most of the
European, whether of the Sclavonian, Gothic, or Celtic stock, have some
connection.  True it is that in this case we know not how to dispose of
the ancient Zend, the mother of the modern Persian, the language in which
were written those writings generally attributed to Zerduscht, or
Zoroaster, whose affinity to the said tongues is as easily established as
that of the Sanscrit, and which, in respect to antiquity, may well
dispute the palm with its Indian rival.  Avoiding, however, the
discussion of this point, we shall content ourselves with observing, that
closely connected with the Sanscrit, if not derived from it, are the
Bengáli, the high Hindustáni, or grand popular language of Hindustan,
generally used by the learned in their intercourse and writings, the
languages of Multan, Guzerat, and other provinces, without mentioning the
mixed dialect called Mongolian Hindustáni, a corrupt jargon of Persian,
Turkish, Arabic, and Hindu words, first used by the Mongols, after the
conquest, in their intercourse with the natives.  Many of the principal
languages of Asia are totally unconnected with the Sanscrit, both in
words and grammatical structure; these are mostly of the great Tartar
family, at the head of which there is good reason for placing the Chinese
and Tibetian.

Bearing the same analogy to the Sanscrit tongue as the Indian dialects
specified above, we find the Rommany, or speech of the Roma, or Zincali,
as they style themselves, known in England and Spain as Gypsies and
Gitános.  This speech, wherever it is spoken, is, in all principal
points, one and the same, though more or less corrupted by foreign words,
picked up in the various countries to which those who use it have
penetrated.  One remarkable feature must not be passed over without
notice, namely, the very considerable number of Sclavonic words, which
are to be found embedded within it, whether it be spoken in Spain or
Germany, in England or Italy; from which circumstance we are led to the
conclusion, that these people, in their way from the East, travelled in
one large compact body, and that their route lay through some region
where the Sclavonian language, or a dialect thereof, was spoken.  This
region I have no hesitation in asserting to have been Bulgaria, where
they probably tarried for a considerable period, as nomad herdsmen, and
where numbers of them are still to be found at the present day.  Besides
the many Sclavonian words in the Gypsy tongue, another curious feature
attracts the attention of the philologist—an equal or still greater
quantity of terms from the modern Greek; indeed, we have full warranty
for assuming that at one period the Spanish section, if not the rest of
the Gypsy nation, understood the Greek language well, and that, besides
their own Indian dialect, they occasionally used it for considerably
upwards of a century subsequent to their arrival, as amongst the Gitános
there were individuals to whom it was intelligible so late as the year
1540.

Where this knowledge was obtained it is difficult to say,—perhaps in
Bulgaria, where two-thirds of the population profess the Greek religion,
or rather in Romania, where the Romaic is generally understood; that they
_did_ understand the Romaic in 1540, we gather from a very remarkable
work, called _El Estudioso Cortesáno_, written by Lorenzo Palmiréno: this
learned and highly extraordinary individual was by birth a Valencian, and
died about 1580; he was professor at various universities—of rhetoric at
Valencia, of Greek at Zaragossa, where he gave lectures, in which he
explained the verses of Homer; he was a proficient in Greek, ancient and
modern, and it should be observed that, in the passage which we are about
to cite, he means himself by the learned individual who held conversation
with the Gitános. {321}  _El Estudioso Cortesáno_ was reprinted at Alcala
in 1587, from which edition we now copy.

‘Who are the Gitános?  I answer; these vile people first began to show
themselves in Germany, in the year 1417, where they call them Tartars or
Gentiles; in Italy they are termed Ciani.  They pretend that they come
from Lower Egypt, and that they wander about as a penance, and to prove
this, they show letters from the king of Poland.  They lie, however, for
they do not lead the life of penitents, but of dogs and thieves.  A
learned person, in the year 1540, prevailed with them, by dint of much
persuasion, to show him the king’s letter, and he gathered from it that
the time of their penance was already expired; he spoke to them in the
Egyptian tongue; they said, however, as it was a long time since their
departure from Egypt, they did not understand it; he then spoke to them
in the vulgar Greek, such as is used at present in the Morea and
Archipelago; _some understood it_, others did not; so that as all did not
understand it, we may conclude that the language which they use is a
feigned one, {67} got up by thieves for the purpose of concealing their
robberies, like the jargon of blind beggars.’

Still more abundant, however, than the mixture of Greek, still more
abundant than the mixture of Sclavonian, is the alloy in the Gypsy
language, wherever spoken, of modern Persian words, which circumstance
will compel us to offer a few remarks on the share which the Persian has
had in the formation of the dialects of India, as at present spoken.

The modern Persian, as has been already observed, is a daughter of the
ancient Zend, and, as such, is entitled to claim affinity with the
Sanscrit, and its dialects.  With this language none in the world would
be able to vie in simplicity and beauty, had not the Persians, in
adopting the religion of Mahomet, unfortunately introduces into their
speech an infinity of words of the rude coarse language used by the
barbaric Arab tribes, the immediate followers of the warlike Prophet.
With the rise of Islam the modern Persian was doomed to be carried into
India.  This country, from the time of Alexander, had enjoyed repose from
external aggression, had been ruled by its native princes, and been
permitted by Providence to exercise, without control or reproof, the
degrading superstitions, and the unnatural and bloody rites of a religion
at the formation of which the fiends of cruelty and lust seem to have
presided; but reckoning was now about to be demanded of the accursed
ministers of this system for the pain, torture, and misery which they had
been instrumental in inflicting on their countrymen for the gratification
of their avarice, filthy passions, and pride; the new Mahometans were at
hand—Arab, Persian, and Afghan, with the glittering scimitar upraised,
full of zeal for the glory and adoration of the one high God, and the
relentless persecutors of the idol-worshippers.  Already, in the four
hundred and twenty-sixth year of the Hegeira, we read of the destruction
of the great Butkhan, or image-house of Sumnaut, by the armies of the
far-conquering Mahmoud, when the dissevered heads of the Brahmans rolled
down the steps of the gigantic and Babel-like temple of the great image—

            [Picture: Text which cannot be reproduced—Arabic?]

    (This image grim, whose name was Laut,
       Bold Mahmoud found when he took Sumnaut.)

It is not our intention to follow the conquests of the Mahometans from
the days of Walid and Mahmoud to those of Timour and Nadir; sufficient to
observe, that the greatest part of India was subdued, new monarchies
established, and the old religion, though far too powerful and widely
spread to be extirpated, was to a considerable extent abashed and humbled
before the bright rising sun of Islam.  The Persian language, which the
conquerors {324} of whatever denomination introduced with them to
Hindustan, and which their descendants at the present day still retain,
though not lords of the ascendant, speedily became widely extended in
these regions, where it had previously been unknown.  As the language of
the court, it was of course studied and acquired by all those natives
whose wealth, rank, and influence necessarily brought them into
connection with the ruling powers; and as the language of the camp, it
was carried into every part of the country where the duties of the
soldiery sooner or later conducted them; the result of which relations
between the conquerors and conquered was the adoption into the popular
dialects of India of an infinity of modern Persian words, not merely
those of science, such as it exists in the East, and of luxury and
refinement, but even those which serve to express many of the most common
objects, necessities, and ideas, so that at the present day a knowledge
of the Persian is essential for the thorough understanding of the
principal dialects of Hindustan, on which account, as well as for the
assistance which it affords in communication with the Mahometans, it is
cultivated with peculiar care by the present possessors of the land.

No surprise, therefore, can be entertained that the speech of the Gitános
in general, who, in all probability, departed from Hindustan long
subsequent to the first Mahometan invasions, abounds, like other Indian
dialects, with words either purely Persian, or slightly modified to
accommodate them to the genius of the language.  Whether the Rommany
originally constituted part of the natives of Multan or Guzerat, and
abandoned their native land to escape from the torch and sword of
Tamerlane and his Mongols, as Grellmann and others have supposed, or
whether, as is much more probable, they were a thievish caste, like some
others still to be found in Hindustan, who fled westward, either from the
vengeance of justice, or in pursuit of plunder, their speaking Persian is
alike satisfactorily accounted for.  With the view of exhibiting how
closely their language is connected with the Sanscrit and Persian, we
subjoin the first ten numerals in the three tongues, those of the Gypsy
according to the Hungarian dialect. {325a}

        Gypsy.      Persian.      Sanscrit. {325b}
     1  Jek         Ek            Ega
     2  Dui         Du            Dvaya
     3  Trin        Se            Treya
     4  Schtar      Chehar        Tschatvar
     5  Pansch      Pansch        Pantscha
     6  Tschov      Schesche      Schasda
     7  Efta        Heft          Sapta
     8  Ochto       Hescht        Aschta
     9  Enija       Nu            Nava
    10  Dösch       De            Dascha

It would be easy for us to adduce a thousand instances, as striking as
the above, of the affinity of the Gypsy tongue to the Persian, Sanscrit,
and the Indian dialects, but we have not space for further observation on
a point which long since has been sufficiently discussed by others
endowed with abler pens than our own; but having made these preliminary
remarks, which we deemed necessary for the elucidation of the subject, we
now hasten to speak of the Gitáno language as used in Spain, and to
determine, by its evidence (and we again repeat, that the language is the
only criterion by which the question can be determined), how far the
Gitános of Spain are entitled to claim connection with the tribes who,
under the names of Zingáni, etc., are to be found in various parts of
Europe, following, in general, a life of wandering adventure, and
practising the same kind of thievish arts which enable those in Spain to
obtain a livelihood at the expense of the more honest and industrious of
the community.

The Gitános of Spain, as already stated, are generally believed to be the
descendants of the Moriscos, and have been asserted to be such in printed
books. {326}  Now they are known to speak a language or jargon amongst
themselves which the other natives of Spain do not understand; of course,
then, supposing them to be of Morisco origin, the words of this tongue or
jargon, which are not Spanish, are the relics of the Arabic or Moorish
tongue once spoken in Spain, which they have inherited from their Moorish
ancestors.  Now it is well known, that the Moorish of Spain was the same
tongue as that spoken at present by the Moors of Barbary, from which
country Spain was invaded by the Arabs, and to which they again retired
when unable to maintain their ground against the armies of the
Christians.  We will, therefore, collate the numerals of the Spanish
Gitáno with those of the Moorish tongue, preceding both with those of the
Hungarian Gypsy, of which we have already made use, for the purpose of
making clear the affinity of that language to the Sanscrit and Persian.
By this collation we shall at once perceive whether the Gitáno of Spain
bears most resemblance to the Arabic, or the Rommany of other lands.

            Hungarian           Spanish            Moorish
             Gypsy.             Gitáno.            Arabic.
     1  Jek                Yeque               Wahud
     2  Dui                Dui                 Snain
     3  Trin               Trin                Slatza
     4  Schtar             Estar               Arba
     5  Pansch             Pansche             Khamsa
     6  Tschov             Job. Zoi            Seta
     7  Efta               Hefta               Sebéa
     8  Ochto              Otor                Sminía
     9  Enija              Esnia (Nu.          Tussa
                           _Pers._)
    10  Dösch              Deque               Aschra

We believe the above specimens will go very far to change the opinion of
those who have imbibed the idea that the Gitános of Spain are the
descendants of Moors, and are of an origin different from that of the
wandering tribes of Rommany in other parts of the world, the specimens of
the two dialects of the Gypsy, as far as they go, being so strikingly
similar, as to leave no doubt of their original identity, whilst, on the
contrary, with the Moorish neither the one nor the other exhibits the
slightest point of similarity or connection.  But with these specimens we
shall not content ourselves, but proceed to give the names of the most
common things and objects in the Hungarian and Spanish Gitáno,
collaterally, with their equivalents in the Moorish Arabic; from which it
will appear that whilst the former are one and the same language, they
are in every respect at variance with the latter.  When we consider that
the Persian has adopted so many words and phrases from the Arabic, we are
at first disposed to wonder that a considerable portion of these words
are not to be discovered in every dialect of the Gypsy tongue, since the
Persian has lent it so much of its vocabulary.  Yet such is by no means
the case, as it is very uncommon, in any one of these dialects, to
discover words derived from the Arabic.  Perhaps, however, the following
consideration will help to solve this point.  The Gitános, even before
they left India, were probably much the same rude, thievish, and ignorant
people as they are at the present day.  Now the words adopted by the
Persian from the Arabic, and which it subsequently introduced into the
dialects of India, are sounds representing objects and ideas with which
such a people as the Gitános could necessarily be but scantily
acquainted, a people whose circle of ideas only embraces physical
objects, and who never commune with their own minds, nor exert them but
in devising low and vulgar schemes of pillage and deceit.  Whatever is
visible and common is seldom or never represented by the Persians, even
in their books, by the help of Arabic words: the sun and stars, the sea
and river, the earth, its trees, its fruits, its flowers, and all that it
produces and supports, are seldom named by them by other terms than those
which their own language is capable of affording; but in expressing the
abstract thoughts of their minds, and they are a people who think much
and well, they borrow largely from the language of their religion—the
Arabic.  We therefore, perhaps, ought not to be surprised that in the
scanty phraseology of the Gitános, amongst so much Persian, we find so
little that is Arabic; had their pursuits been less vile, their desires
less animal, and their thoughts less circumscribed, it would probably
have been otherwise; but from time immemorial they have shown themselves
a nation of petty thieves, horse-traffickers, and the like, without a
thought of the morrow, being content to provide against the evil of the
passing day.

The following is a comparison of words in the three languages:—

                     Hungarian          Spanish           Moorish
                    Gypsy. {330}        Gitáno.           Arabic.
Bone              Cokalos           Cocal             Adorn
City              Forjus            Foros             Beled
Day               Dives             Chibes            Youm
Drink (to)        Piava             Piyar             Yeschrab
Ear               Kan               Can               Oothin
Eye               Jakh              Aquia             Ein
Feather           Por               Porumia           Risch
Fire              Vag               Yaque             Afia
Fish              Maczo             Macho             Hutz
Foot              Pir               Piro, pindro      Rjil
Gold              Sonkai            Sonacai           Dahab
Great             Baro              Baro              Quibír
Hair              Bala              Bal               Schar
He, pron.         Wow               O                 Hu
Head              Tschero           Jero              Ras
House             Ker               Quer              Dar
Husband           Rom               Ron               Zooje
Lightning         Molnija           Malunó            Brak
Love (to)         Camaba            Camelar           Yehib
Man               Manusch           Manu              Rajil
Milk              Tud               Chuti             Helib
Mountain          Bar               Bur               Djibil
Mouth             Mui               Mui               Fum
Name              Nao               Nao               Ism
Night             Rat               Rachi             Lila
Nose              Nakh              Naqui             Munghár
Old               Puro              Puro              Shaive
Red               Lal               Lalo              Hamr
Salt              Lon               Lon               Mela
Sing              Gjuwawa           Gilyabar          Iganni
Sun               Cam               Can               Schems
Thief             Tschor            Choro             Harám
Thou              Tu                Tucue             Antsin
Tongue            Tschib            Chipe             Lsán
Tooth             Dant              Dani              Sinn
Tree              Karscht           Caste             Schizara
Water             Pani              Pani              Ma
Wind              Barbar            Barban            Ruhk

We shall offer no further observations respecting the affinity of the
Spanish Gitáno to the other dialects, as we conceive we have already
afforded sufficient proof of its original identity with them, and
consequently shaken to the ground the absurd opinion that the Gitános of
Spain are the descendants of the Arabs and Moriscos.  We shall now
conclude with a few remarks on the present state of the Gitáno language
in Spain, where, perhaps, within the course of a few years, it will have
perished, without leaving a vestige of its having once existed; and
where, perhaps, the singular people who speak it are likewise doomed to
disappear, becoming sooner or later engulfed and absorbed in the great
body of the nation, amongst whom they have so long existed a separate and
peculiar class.

Though the words or a part of the words of the original tongue still
remain, preserved by memory amongst the Gitános, its grammatical
peculiarities have disappeared, the entire language having been modified
and subjected to the rules of Spanish grammar, with which it now
coincides in syntax, in the conjugation of verbs, and in the declension
of its nouns.  Were it possible or necessary to collect all the relics of
this speech, they would probably amount to four or five thousand words;
but to effect such an achievement, it would be necessary to hold close
and long intercourse with almost every Gitáno in Spain, and to extract,
by various means, the peculiar information which he might be capable of
affording; for it is necessary to state here, that though such an amount
of words may still exist amongst the Gitános in general, no single
individual of their sect is in possession of one-third part thereof, nor
indeed, we may add, those of any single city or province of Spain;
nevertheless all are in possession, more or less, of the language, so
that, though of different provinces, they are enabled to understand each
other tolerably well, when discoursing in this their characteristic
speech.  Those who travel most are of course best versed in it, as,
independent of the words of their own village or town, they acquire
others by intermingling with their race in various places.  Perhaps there
is no part of Spain where it is spoken better than in Madrid, which is
easily accounted for by the fact, that Madrid, as the capital, has always
been the point of union of the Gitános, from all those provinces of Spain
where they are to be found.  It is least of all preserved in Seville,
notwithstanding that its Gitáno population is very considerable,
consisting, however, almost entirely of natives of the place.  As may
well be supposed, it is in all places best preserved amongst the old
people, their children being comparatively ignorant of it, as perhaps
they themselves are in comparison with their own parents.  We are
persuaded that the Gitáno language of Spain is nearly at its last stage
of existence, which persuasion has been our main instigator to the
present attempt to collect its scanty remains, and by the assistance of
the press, rescue it in some degree from destruction.  It will not be
amiss to state here, that it is only by listening attentively to the
speech of the Gitános, whilst discoursing amongst themselves, that an
acquaintance with their dialect can be formed, and by seizing upon all
unknown words as they fall in succession from their lips.  Nothing can be
more useless and hopeless than the attempt to obtain possession of their
vocabulary by inquiring of them how particular objects and ideas are
styled; for with the exception of the names of the most common things,
they are totally incapable, as a Spanish writer has observed, of yielding
the required information, owing to their great ignorance, the shortness
of their memories, or rather the state of bewilderment to which their
minds are brought by any question which tends to bring their reasoning
faculties into action, though not unfrequently the very words which have
been in vain required of them will, a minute subsequently, proceed
inadvertently from their mouths.

We now take leave of their language.  When wishing to praise the
proficiency of any individual in their tongue, they are in the habit of
saying, ‘He understands the seven jargons.’  In the Gospel which we have
printed in this language, and in the dictionary which we have compiled,
we have endeavoured, to the utmost of our ability, to deserve that
compliment; and at all times it will afford us sincere and heartfelt
pleasure to be informed that any Gitáno, capable of appreciating the said
little works, has observed, whilst reading them or hearing them read: It
is clear that the writer of these books understood

                            THE SEVEN JARGONS.


ON ROBBER LANGUAGE; OR, AS IT IS CALLED IN SPAIN, GERMANIA


    ‘So I went with them to a music booth, where they made me almost
    drunk with gin, and began to talk their _Flash Language_, which I did
    not understand.’—Narrative of the Exploits of Henry Simms, executed
    at Tyburn, 1746.

    ‘Hablaronse los dos en Germania, de lo qual resultó darme un abraço,
    y ofrecerseme.’—QUEVEDO.  Vida dal gran Tacaño.

HAVING in the preceding article endeavoured to afford all necessary
information concerning the Rommany, or language used by the Gypsies
amongst themselves, we now propose to turn our attention to a subject of
no less interest, but which has hitherto never been treated in a manner
calculated to lead to any satisfactory result or conclusion; on the
contrary, though philosophic minds have been engaged in its
consideration, and learned pens have not disdained to occupy themselves
with its details, it still remains a singular proof of the errors into
which the most acute and laborious writers are apt to fall, when they
take upon themselves the task of writing on matters which cannot be
studied in the closet, and on which no information can be received by
mixing in the society of the wise, the lettered, and the respectable, but
which must be investigated in the fields, and on the borders of the
highways, in prisons, and amongst the dregs of society.  Had the latter
system been pursued in the matter now before us, much clearer, more
rational, and more just ideas would long since have been entertained
respecting the Germania, or language of thieves.

In most countries of Europe there exists, amongst those who obtain their
existence by the breach of the law, and by preying upon the fruits of the
labours of the quiet and orderly portion of society, a particular jargon
or dialect, in which the former discuss their schemes and plans of
plunder, without being in general understood by those to whom they are
obnoxious.  The name of this jargon varies with the country in which it
is spoken.  In Spain it is called ‘Germania’; in France, ‘Argot’; in
Germany, ‘Rothwelsch,’ or Red Italian; in Italy, ‘Gergo’; whilst in
England it is known by many names; for example, ‘cant, slang, thieves’
Latin,’ etc.  The most remarkable circumstance connected with the history
of this jargon is, that in all the countries in which it is spoken, it
has invariably, by the authors who have treated of it, and who are
numerous, been confounded with the Gypsy language, and asserted to be the
speech of those wanderers who have so long infested Europe under the name
of Gitános, etc.  How far this belief is founded in justice we shall now
endeavour to show, with the premise that whatever we advance is derived,
not from the assertions or opinions of others, but from our own
observation; the point in question being one which no person is capable
of solving, save him who has mixed with Gitános and thieves,—not with the
former merely or the latter, but with both.

We have already stated what is the Rommany or language of the Gypsies.
We have proved that when properly spoken it is to all intents and
purposes entitled to the appellation of a language, and that wherever it
exists it is virtually the same; that its origin is illustrious, it being
a daughter of the Sanscrit, and in consequence in close connection with
some of the most celebrated languages of the East, although it at present
is only used by the most unfortunate and degraded of beings, wanderers
without home and almost without country, as wherever they are found they
are considered in the light of foreigners and interlopers.  We shall now
state what the language of thieves is, as it is generally spoken in
Europe; after which we shall proceed to analyse it according to the
various countries in which it is used.

The dialect used for their own peculiar purposes amongst thieves is by no
means entitled to the appellation of a language, but in every sense to
that of a jargon or gibberish, it being for the most part composed of
words of the native language of those who use it, according to the
particular country, though invariably in a meaning differing more or less
from the usual and received one, and for the most part in a metaphorical
sense.  Metaphor and allegory, indeed, seem to form the nucleus of this
speech, notwithstanding that other elements are to be distinguished; for
it is certain that in every country where it is spoken, it contains many
words differing from the language of that country, and which may either
be traced to foreign tongues, or are of an origin at which, in many
instances, it is impossible to arrive.  That which is most calculated to
strike the philosophic mind when considering this dialect, is doubtless
the fact of its being formed everywhere upon the same principle—that of
metaphor, in which point all the branches agree, though in others they
differ as much from each other as the languages on which they are
founded; for example, as the English and German from the Spanish and
Italian.  This circumstance naturally leads to the conclusion that the
robber language has not arisen fortuitously in the various countries
where it is at present spoken, but that its origin is one and the same,
it being probably invented by the outlaws of one particular country; by
individuals of which it was, in course of time, carried to others, where
its principles, if not its words, were adopted; for upon no other
supposition can we account for its general metaphorical character in
regions various and distant.  It is, of course, impossible to state with
certainty the country in which this jargon first arose, yet there is
cogent reason for supposing that it may have been Italy.  The Germans
call it Rothwelsch, which signifies ‘Red Italian,’ a name which appears
to point out Italy as its birthplace; and which, though by no means of
sufficient importance to determine the question, is strongly
corroborative of the supposition, when coupled with the following fact.
We have already intimated, that wherever it is spoken, this speech,
though composed for the most part of words of the language of the
particular country, applied in a metaphorical sense, exhibits a
considerable sprinkling of foreign words; now of these words no slight
number are Italian or bastard Latin, whether in Germany, whether in
Spain, or in other countries more or less remote from Italy.  When we
consider the ignorance of thieves in general, their total want of
education, the slight knowledge which they possess even of their mother
tongue, it is hardly reasonable to suppose that in any country they were
ever capable of having recourse to foreign languages, for the purpose of
enriching any peculiar vocabulary or phraseology which they might deem
convenient to use among themselves; nevertheless, by associating with
foreign thieves, who had either left their native country for their
crimes, or from a hope of reaping a rich harvest of plunder in other
lands, it would be easy for them to adopt a considerable number of words
belonging to the languages of their foreign associates, from whom perhaps
they derived an increase of knowledge in thievish arts of every
description.  At the commencement of the fifteenth century no nation in
Europe was at all calculated to vie with the Italian in arts of any kind,
whether those whose tendency was the benefit or improvement of society,
or those the practice of which serves to injure and undermine it.  The
artists and artisans of Italy were to be found in all the countries of
Europe, from Madrid to Moscow, and so were its charlatans, its jugglers,
and multitudes of its children, who lived by fraud and cunning.
Therefore, when a comprehensive view of the subject is taken, there
appears to be little improbability in supposing, that not only were the
Italians the originators of the metaphorical robber jargon, which has
been termed ‘Red Italian,’ but that they were mainly instrumental in
causing it to be adopted by the thievish race in various countries of
Europe.

It is here, however, necessary to state, that in the robber jargon of
Europe, elements of another language are to be discovered, and perhaps in
greater number than the Italian words.  The language which we allude to
is the Rommany; this language has been, in general, confounded with the
vocabulary used among thieves, which, however, is a gross error, so
gross, indeed, that it is almost impossible to conceive the manner in
which it originated: the speech of the Gypsies being a genuine language
of Oriental origin, and the former little more than a phraseology of
convenience, founded upon particular European tongues.  It will be
sufficient here to remark, that the Gypsies do not understand the jargon
of the thieves, whilst the latter, with perhaps a few exceptions, are
ignorant of the language of the former.  Certain words, however, of the
Rommany have found admission into the said jargon, which may be accounted
for by the supposition that the Gypsies, being themselves by birth,
education, and profession, thieves of the first water, have, on various
occasions, formed alliances with the outlaws of the various countries in
which they are at present to be found, which association may have
produced the result above alluded to; but it will be as well here to
state, that in no country of Europe have the Gypsies forsaken or
forgotten their native tongue, and in its stead adopted the ‘Germania,’
‘Red Italian,’ or robber jargon, although in some they preserve their
native language in a state of less purity than in others.  We are induced
to make this statement from an assertion of the celebrated Lorenzo
Hervas, who, in the third volume of his _Catalogo de las Lenguas_, trat.
3, cap. vi., p. 311, expresses himself to the following effect:—‘The
proper language of the Gitános neither is nor can be found amongst those
who scattered themselves through the western kingdoms of Europe, but only
amongst those who remained in the eastern, where they are still to be
found.  The former were notably divided and disunited, receiving into
their body a great number of European outlaws, on which account the
language in question was easily adulterated and soon perished.  In Spain,
and also in Italy, the Gitános have totally forgotten and lost their
native language; yet still wishing to converse with each other in a
language unknown to the Spaniards and Italians, they have invented some
words, and have transformed many others by changing the signification
which properly belongs to them in Spanish and Italian.’  In proof of
which assertion he then exhibits a small number of words of the ‘Red
Italian,’ or allegorical tongue of the thieves of Italy.

It is much to be lamented that a man like Hervas, so learned, of such
knowledge, and upon the whole well-earned celebrity, should have helped
to propagate three such flagrant errors as are contained in the passages
above quoted: 1st.  That the Gypsy language, within a very short period
after the arrival of those who spoke it in the western kingdoms of
Europe, became corrupted, and perished by the admission of outlaws into
the Gypsy fraternity.  2ndly.  That the Gypsies, in order to supply the
loss of their native tongue, invented some words, and modified others,
from the Spanish and Italian.  3rdly.  That the Gypsies of the present
day in Spain and Italy speak the allegorical robber dialect.  Concerning
the first assertion, namely, that the Gypsies of the west lost their
language shortly after their arrival, by mixing with the outlaws of those
parts, we believe that its erroneousness will be sufficiently established
by the publication of the present volume, which contains a dictionary of
the Spanish Gitáno, which we have proved to be the same language in most
points as that spoken by the eastern tribes.  There can be no doubt that
the Gypsies have at various times formed alliances with the robbers of
particular countries, but that they ever received them in considerable
numbers into their fraternity, as Hervas has stated, so as to become
confounded with them, the evidence of our eyesight precludes the
possibility of believing.  If such were the fact, why do the Italian and
Spanish Gypsies of the present day still present themselves as a distinct
race, differing from the other inhabitants of the west of Europe in
feature, colour, and constitution?  Why are they, in whatever situation
and under whatever circumstances, to be distinguished, like Jews, from
the other children of the Creator?  But it is scarcely necessary to ask
such a question, or indeed to state that the Gypsies of Spain and Italy
have kept themselves as much apart as, or at least have as little mingled
their blood with the Spaniards and Italians as their brethren in Hungaria
and Transylvania with the inhabitants of those countries, on which
account they still strikingly resemble them in manners, customs, and
appearance.  The most extraordinary assertion of Hervas is perhaps his
second, namely, that the Gypsies have invented particular words to supply
the place of others which they had lost.  The absurdity of this
supposition nearly induces us to believe that Hervas, who has written so
much and so laboriously on language, was totally ignorant of the
philosophy of his subject.  There can be no doubt, as we have before
admitted, that in the robber jargon, whether spoken in Spain, Italy, or
England, there are many words at whose etymology it is very difficult to
arrive; yet such a fact is no excuse for the adoption of the opinion that
these words are of pure invention.  A knowledge of the Rommany proves
satisfactorily that many have been borrowed from that language, whilst
many others may be traced to foreign tongues, especially the Latin and
Italian.  Perhaps one of the strongest grounds for concluding that the
origin of language was divine is the fact that no instance can be adduced
of the invention, we will not say of a language, but even of a single
word that is in use in society of any kind.  Although new dialects are
continually being formed, it is only by a system of modification, by
which roots almost coeval with time itself are continually being
reproduced under a fresh appearance, and under new circumstances.  The
third assertion of Hervas, as to the Gitános speaking the allegorical
language of which he exhibits specimens, is entitled to about equal
credence as the two former.  The truth is, that the entire store of
erudition of the learned Jesuit, and he doubtless was learned to a
remarkable degree, was derived from books, either printed or manuscript.
He compared the Gypsy words in the publication of Grellmann with various
vocabularies, which had long been in existence, of the robber jargons of
Spain and Italy, which jargons by a strange fatuity had ever been
considered as belonging to the Gypsies.  Finding that the Gypsy words of
Grellmann did not at all correspond with the thieves’ slang, he concluded
that the Gypsies of Spain and Italy had forgotten their own language, and
to supply its place had invented the jargons aforesaid, but he never gave
himself the trouble to try whether the Gypsies really understood the
contents of his slang vocabularies; had he done so, he would have found
that the slang was about as unintelligible to the Gypsies as he would
have found the specimens of Grellmann unintelligible to the thieves had
he quoted those specimens to them.  The Gypsies of Spain, it will be
sufficient to observe, speak the language of which a vocabulary is given
in the present work, and those of Italy who are generally to be found
existing in a half-savage state in the various ruined castles, relics of
the feudal times, with which Italy abounds, a dialect very similar, and
about as much corrupted.  There are, however, to be continually found in
Italy roving bands of Rommany, not natives of the country, who make
excursions from Moldavia and Hungaria to France and Italy, for the
purpose of plunder; and who, if they escape the hand of justice, return
at the expiration of two or three years to their native regions, with the
booty they have amassed by the practice of those thievish arts, perhaps
at one period peculiar to their race, but at present, for the most part,
known and practised by thieves in general.  These bands, however, speak
the pure Gypsy language, with all its grammatical peculiarities.  It is
evident, however, that amongst neither of these classes had Hervas pushed
his researches, which had he done, it is probable that his investigations
would have resulted in a work of a far different character from the
confused, unsatisfactory, and incorrect details of which is formed his
essay on the language of the Gypsies.

Having said thus much concerning the robber language in general, we shall
now proceed to offer some specimens of it, in order that our readers may
be better able to understand its principles.  We shall commence with the
Italian dialect, which there is reason for supposing to be the prototype
of the rest.  To show what it is, we avail ourselves of some of the words
adduced by Hervas, as specimens of the language of the Gitános of Italy.
‘I place them,’ he observes, ‘with the signification which the greater
number properly have in Italian.’

            Robber jargon of Italy.             Proper signification
                                                of the words.
Arm         Ale / Barbacane                     Wings / Barbican
Belly       Fagiana                             Pheasant
Devil       Rabuino                             Perhaps _Rabbin_,
                                                which, in Hebrew, is
                                                Master
Earth       Calcosa                             Street, road
Eye         Balco                               Balcony
Father      Grimo                               Old, wrinkled
Fire        Presto                              Quick
God         Anticrotto                          Probably Antichrist
Hair        Prusa {346a}
Head        Elmo / Borella {346b} / Chiurla     Helmet
            {346c}
Heart       Salsa                               Sauce
Man         Osmo                                From the Italian
                                                _uomo_, which is man
Moon        Mocoloso di Sant’ Alto              Wick of the firmament
Night       Brunamaterna                        Mother-brown
Nose        Gambaro                             Crab
Sun         Ruffo di Sant’ Alto                 Red one of the
                                                firmament
Tongue      Serpentina / Danosa                 Serpent-like /
                                                Hurtful
Water       Lenza / Vetta {346d}                Fishing-net / Top,
                                                bud

The Germania of Spain may be said to divide itself into two dialects, the
ancient and modern.  Of the former there exists a vocabulary, published
first by Juan Hidalgo, in the year 1609, at Barcelona, and reprinted in
Madrid, 1773.  Before noticing this work, it will perhaps be advisable to
endeavour to ascertain the true etymology of the word Germania, which
signifies the slang vocabulary, or robber language of Spain.  We have no
intention to embarrass our readers by offering various conjectures
respecting its origin; its sound, coupled with its signification,
affording sufficient evidence that it is but a corruption of Rommany,
which properly denotes the speech of the Roma or Gitános.  The thieves
who from time to time associated with this wandering people, and acquired
more or less of their language, doubtless adopted this term amongst
others, and, after modifying it, applied it to the peculiar phraseology
which, in the course of time, became prevalent amongst them.  The
dictionary of Hidalgo is appended to six ballads, or romances, by the
same author, written in the Germanian dialect, in which he describes the
robber life at Seville at the period in which he lived.  All of these
romances possess their peculiar merit, and will doubtless always be
considered valuable, and be read as faithful pictures of scenes and
habits which now no longer exist.  In the prologue, the author states
that his principal motive for publishing a work written in so strange a
language was his observing the damage which resulted from an ignorance of
the Germania, especially to the judges and ministers of justice, whose
charge it is to cleanse the public from the pernicious gentry who use it.
By far the greatest part of the vocabulary consists of Spanish words used
allegorically, which are, however, intermingled with many others, most of
which may be traced to the Latin and Italian, others to the Sanscrit or
Gitáno, Russian, Arabic, Turkish, Greek, and German languages. {348}  The
circumstances of words belonging to some of the languages last enumerated
being found in the Gitáno, which at first may strike the reader as
singular, and almost incredible, will afford but slight surprise, when he
takes into consideration the peculiar circumstances of Spain during the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.  Spain was at that period the most
powerful monarchy in Europe; her foot reposed upon the Low Countries,
whilst her gigantic arms embraced a considerable portion of Italy.
Maintaining always a standing army in Flanders and in Italy, it followed
as a natural consequence, that her Miquelets and soldiers became
tolerably conversant with the languages of those countries; and, in
course of time, returning to their native land, not a few, especially of
the former class, a brave and intrepid, but always a lawless and
dissolute species of soldiery, either fell in or returned to evil
society, and introduced words which they had learnt abroad into the
robber phraseology; whilst returned galley-slaves from Algiers, Tunis,
and Tetuan, added to its motley variety of words from the relics of the
broken Arabic and Turkish, which they had acquired during their
captivity.  The greater part of the Germania, however, remained strictly
metaphorical, and we are aware of no better means of conveying an idea of
the principle on which it is formed, than by quoting from the first
romance of Hidalgo, where particular mention is made of this jargon:—

    ‘A la cama llama Blanda
    Donde Sornan en poblado
    A la Fresada Vellosa,
    Que mucho vello ha criado.
    Dice á la sabana Alba
    Porque es alba en sumo grado,
    A la camisa Carona,
    Al jubon llama apretado:
    Dice al Sayo Tapador
    Porque le lleva tapado.
    Llama á los zapatos Duros,
    Que las piedras van pisando.
    A la capa llama nuve,
    Dice al Sombrero Texado.
    Respeto llama á la Espada,
    Que por ella es respetado,’ etc. etc.

                                                         HIDALGO, p. 22–3.

After these few remarks on the ancient Germania of Spain, we now proceed
to the modern, which differs considerably from the former.  The principal
cause of this difference is to be attributed to the adoption by the
Spanish outlaws, in latter years, of a considerable number of words
belonging to, or modified from, the Rommany, or language of the Gitános.
The Gitános of Spain, during the last half-century, having, in a great
degree, abandoned the wandering habit of life which once constituted one
of their most remarkable peculiarities, and residing, at present, more in
the cities than in the fields, have come into closer contact with the
great body of the Spanish nation than was in former days their practice.
From their living thus in towns, their language has not only undergone
much corruption, but has become, to a slight degree, known to the dregs
of society, amongst whom they reside.  The thieves’ dialect of the
present day exhibits, therefore, less of the allegorical language
preserved in the pages of Hidalgo than of the Gypsy tongue.  It must be
remarked, however, that it is very scanty, and that the whole robber
phraseology at present used in Spain barely amounts to two hundred words,
which are utterly insufficient to express the very limited ideas of the
outcasts who avail themselves of it.

Concerning the Germania of France, or ‘Argot,’ as it is called, it is
unnecessary to make many observations, as what has been said of the
language of Hidalgo and the Red Italian is almost in every respect
applicable to it.  As early as the middle of the sixteenth century a
vocabulary of this jargon was published under the title of _Langue des
Escrocs_, at Paris.  Those who wish to study it as it at present exists
can do no better than consult _Les Mémoires de Vidocq_, where a multitude
of words in Argot are to be found, and also several songs, the subjects
of which are thievish adventures.

The first vocabulary of the ‘Cant Language,’ or English Germania,
appeared in the year 1680, appended to the life of _The English Rogue_, a
work which, in many respects, resembles the _History of Guzman
d’Alfaráche_, though it is written with considerably more genius than the
Spanish novel, every chapter abounding with remarkable adventures of the
robber whose life it pretends to narrate, and which are described with a
kind of ferocious energy, which, if it do not charm the attention of the
reader, at least enslaves it, holding it captive with a chain of iron.
Amongst his other adventures, the hero falls in with a Gypsy encampment,
is enrolled amongst the fraternity, and is allotted a ‘mort,’ or
concubine; a barbarous festival ensues, at the conclusion of which an
epithalamium is sung in the Gypsy language, as it is called in the work
in question.  Neither the epithalamium, however, nor the vocabulary, are
written in the language of the English Gypsies, but in the ‘Cant,’ or
allegorical robber dialect, which is sufficient proof that the writer,
however well acquainted with thieves in general, their customs and
manners of life, was in respect to the Gypsies profoundly ignorant.  His
vocabulary, however, has been always accepted as the speech of the
English Gypsies, whereas it is at most entitled to be considered as the
peculiar speech of the thieves and vagabonds of his time.  The cant of
the present day, which, though it differs in some respects from the
vocabulary already mentioned, is radically the same, is used not only by
the thieves in town and country, but by the jockeys of the racecourse and
the pugilists of the ‘ring.’ As a specimen of the cant of England, we
shall take the liberty of quoting the epithalamium to which we have above
alluded:—

    ‘Bing out, bien morts, and tour and tour
    Bing out, bien morts and tour;
    For all your duds are bing’d awast,
    The bien cove hath the loure. {351}

    ‘I met a dell, I viewed her well,
    She was benship to my watch:
    So she and I did stall and cloy
    Whatever we could catch.

    ‘This doxy dell can cut ben whids,
    And wap well for a win,
    And prig and cloy so benshiply,
    All daisy-ville within.

    ‘The hoyle was up, we had good luck,
    In frost for and in snow;
    Men they did seek, then we did creep
    And plant the roughman’s low.’

It is scarcely necessary to say anything more upon the Germania in
general or in particular; we believe that we have achieved the task which
we marked out for ourselves, and have conveyed to our readers a clear and
distinct idea of what it is.  We have shown that it has been erroneously
confounded with the Rommany, or Gitáno language, with which it has
nevertheless some points of similarity.  The two languages are, at the
present day, used for the same purpose, namely, to enable habitual
breakers of the law to carry on their consultations with more secrecy and
privacy than by the ordinary means.  Yet it must not be forgotten that
the thieves’ jargon was invented for that purpose, whilst the Rommany,
originally the proper and only speech of a particular nation, has been
preserved from falling into entire disuse and oblivion, because adapted
to answer the same end.  It was impossible to treat of the Rommany in a
manner calculated to exhaust the subject, and to leave no ground for
future cavilling, without devoting a considerable space to the
consideration of the robber dialect, on which account we hope we shall be
excused many of the dry details which we have introduced into the present
essay.  There is a link of connection between the history of the Roma, or
wanderers from Hindustan, who first made their appearance in Europe at
the commencement of the fifteenth century, and that of modern roguery.
Many of the arts which the Gypsies proudly call their own, and which were
perhaps at one period peculiar to them, have become divulged, and are now
practised by the thievish gentry who infest the various European states,
a result which, we may assert with confidence, was brought about by the
alliance of the Gypsies being eagerly sought on their first arrival by
the thieves, who, at one period, were less skilful than the former in the
ways of deceit and plunder; which kind of association continued and held
good until the thieves had acquired all they wished to learn, when they
left the Gypsies in the fields and plains, so dear to them from their
vagabond and nomad habits, and returned to the towns and cities.  Yet
from this temporary association were produced two results; European fraud
became sharpened by coming into contact with Asiatic craft, whilst
European tongues, by imperceptible degrees, became recruited with various
words (some of them wonderfully expressive), many of which have long been
stumbling-stocks to the philologist, who, whilst stigmatising them as
words of mere vulgar invention, or of unknown origin, has been far from
dreaming that by a little more research he might have traced them to the
Sclavonic, Persian, or Romaic, or perhaps to the mysterious object of his
veneration, the Sanscrit, the sacred tongue of the palm-covered regions
of Ind; words originally introduced into Europe by objects too miserable
to occupy for a moment his lettered attention—the despised denizens of
the tents of Roma.


ON THE TERM ‘BUSNO’


Those who have done me the honour to peruse this strange wandering book
of mine, must frequently have noticed the word ‘Busno,’ a term bestowed
by the Spanish Gypsy on his good friend the Spaniard.  As the present
will probably be the last occasion which I shall have to speak of the
Gitános or anything relating to them, it will perhaps be advisable to
explain the meaning of this word.  In the vocabulary appended to former
editions I have translated Busno by such words as Gentile, savage, person
who is not a Gypsy, and have stated that it is probably connected with a
certain Sanscrit noun signifying an impure person.  It is, however,
derived immediately from a Hungarian term, exceedingly common amongst the
lower orders of the Magyars, to their disgrace be it spoken.  The
Hungarian Gypsies themselves not unfrequently style the Hungarians
Busnoes, in ridicule of their unceasing use of the word in question.  The
first Gypsies who entered Spain doubtless brought with them the term from
Hungary, the language of which country they probably understood to a
certain extent.  That it was not ill applied by them in Spain no one will
be disposed to deny when told that it exactly corresponds with the
Shibboleth of the Spaniards, ‘Carajo,’ an oath equally common in Spain as
its equivalent in Hungary.  Busno, therefore, in Spanish means _El del
carajo_, or he who has that term continually in his mouth.  The Hungarian
words in Spanish Gypsy may amount to ten or twelve, a very inconsiderable
number; but the Hungarian Gypsy tongue itself, as spoken at the present
day, exhibits only a slight sprinkling of Hungarian words, whilst it
contains many words borrowed from the Wallachian, some of which have
found their way into Spain, and are in common use amongst the Gitános.


SPECIMENS OF GYPSY DIALECTS

THE ENGLISH DIALECT OF THE ROMMANY


    ‘TACHIPEN if I jaw ’doi, I can lel a bit of tan to hatch: N’etist I
    shan’t puch kekomi wafu gorgies.’

The above sentence, dear reader, I heard from the mouth of Mr.
Petulengro, the last time that he did me the honour to visit me at my
poor house, which was the day after Mol-divvus {359}, 1842: he stayed
with me during the greater part of the morning, discoursing on the
affairs of Egypt, the aspect of which, he assured me, was becoming daily
worse and worse.  ‘There is no living for the poor people, brother,’ said
he, ‘the chokengres (police) pursue us from place to place, and the
gorgios are become either so poor or miserly, that they grudge our cattle
a bite of grass by the wayside, and ourselves a yard of ground to light a
fire upon.  Unless times alter, brother, and of that I see no
probability, unless you are made either poknees or mecralliskoe geiro
(justice of the peace or prime minister), I am afraid the poor persons
will have to give up wandering altogether, and then what will become of
them?’

‘However, brother,’ he continued, in a more cheerful tone, ‘I am no
hindity mush, {360a} as you well know.  I suppose you have not forgot
how, fifteen years ago, when you made horseshoes in the little dingle by
the side of the great north road, I lent you fifty cottors {360b} to
purchase the wonderful trotting cob of the innkeeper with the green
Newmarket coat, which three days after you sold for two hundred.

‘Well, brother, if you had wanted the two hundred instead of the fifty, I
could have lent them to you, and would have done so, for I knew you would
not be long pazorrhus to me.  I am no hindity mush, brother, no Irishman;
I laid out the other day twenty pounds in buying ruponoe peamengries;
{360c} and in the Chonggav, {360d} have a house of my own with a yard
behind it.

    ‘_And_, _forsooth_, _if I go thither_, _I can choose a place to light
    afire upon_, _and shall have no necessity to ask leave of these here
    Gentiles_.’

Well, dear reader, this last is the translation of the Gypsy sentence
which heads the chapter, and which is a very characteristic specimen of
the general way of speaking of the English Gypsies.

The language, as they generally speak it, is a broken jargon, in which
few of the grammatical peculiarities of the Rommany are to be
distinguished.  In fact, what has been said of the Spanish Gypsy dialect
holds good with respect to the English as commonly spoken: yet the
English dialect has in reality suffered much less than the Spanish, and
still retains its original syntax to a certain extent, its peculiar
manner of conjugating verbs, and declining nouns and pronouns.

                             ENGLISH DIALECT

    Moro Dad, savo djives oteh drey o charos, te caumen Gorgio ta Romany
    Chal tiro nav, te awel tiro tem, te kairen tiro lav aukko prey puv,
    sar kairdios oteh drey o charos.  Dey men to-divvus moro divvuskoe
    moro, ta for-dey men pazorrhus tukey sar men for-denna len pazorrhus
    amande; ma muk te petrenna drey caik temptacionos; ley men abri sor
    doschder.  Tiro se o tem, Mi-duvel, tiro o zoozlu vast, tiro sor
    koskopen drey sor cheros.  Avali.  Ta-chipen.

                             SPANISH DIALECT

    Batu monro sos socabas oté enré ye char, que camele Gacho ta Romani
    Cha tiro nao, qu’abillele tiro chim, querese tiro lao acoi opré ye
    puve sarta se querela oté enré ye char.  Diñanos sejonia monro manro
    de cata chibes, ta estormenanos monrias bisauras sasta mu
    estormenamos a monrias bisabadores; na nos meques petrar enré cayque
    pajandia, lillanos abri de saro chungalipen.  Persos tiro sinela o
    chim, Undevel, tiro ye silna bast, tiro saro lachipen enré saro
    chiros.  Unga.  Chachipé.

                    _English Translation of the above_

    Our Father who dwellest there in heaven, may Gentile and Gypsy love
    thy name, thy kingdom come, may they do thy word here on earth as it
    is done there in heaven.  Give us to-day our daily bread, {361a} and
    forgive us indebted to thee as we forgive them indebted to us, {361b}
    suffer not that we fall into _no_ temptation, take us out from all
    evil. {361c}  Thine {361d} is the kingdom my God, thine the strong
    hand, thine all goodness in all time.  Aye.  Truth.



HUNGARIAN DIALECT


The following short sentences in Hungarian Gypsy, in addition to the
prayer to the Virgin given in the Introduction, will perhaps not prove
unacceptable to the reader.  In no part of the world is the Gypsy tongue
at the present day spoken with more purity than in Hungary, {362} where
it is used by the Gypsies not only when they wish to be unintelligible to
the Hungarians, but in their common conversation amongst themselves.

From these sentences the reader, by the help of the translations which
accompany them, may form a tolerable idea not only of what the Gypsy
tongue is, but of the manner in which the Hungarian Gypsies think and
express themselves.  They are specimens of genuine Gypsy talk—sentences
which I have myself heard proceed from the mouths of the Czigany; they
are not Busno thoughts done into gentle Rommany.  Some of them are given
here as they were written down by me at the time, others as I have
preserved them in my memory up to the present moment.  It is not
improbable that at some future time I may return to the subject of the
Hungarian Gypsies.

Varé tava soskei me puchelas cai    Much I ponder why you ask me
soskei avillara catári.             (questions), and why you should
                                    come hither.
Mango le gulo Devlas vas o erai,    I pray the sweet Goddess for the
hodj o erai te pirel misto, te      gentleman, that the gentleman may
n’avel pascotia l’eras, ta na       journey well, that misfortune
avel o erai nasvalo.                come not to the gentleman, and
                                    that the gentleman fall not sick.
Cana cames aves pale.               When you please come back.
Ki’som dhes keral avel o rai        How many days did the gentleman
catari? {363a}                      take to come hither?
Kit somu berschengro hal tu?        How many years old are you?
{363b}
Cadé abri mai lachi e mol sar       Here out better (is) the wine
ando foro.                          than in the city.
Sin o mas balichano, ta i gorkhe    The meat is of pig, and the
garasheskri; {363c} sin o manro     gherkins cost a grosh—the bread
parno, cai te felo do               is white, and the lard costs two
garashangro.                        groshen.
Yeck quartalli mol ando lende.      One quart of wine amongst us.
Andé mol oté mestchibo.             In wine there (is) happiness.
Khava piava—dui shel, tri shel      I will eat, I will drink—two
predinava.                          hundred, three hundred I will
                                    place before.
Damen Devla saschipo ando mure      Give us Goddess health in our
cocala.                             bones.
Te rosarow labio tarraco le         I will seek a waistcoat, which I
Mujeskey miro pralesco, ta vela     have, for Moses my brother, and I
mi anao tukey le Mujeskey miro      will change names with Moses my
pralesky.                           brother. {363d}
Llundun baro foro, bishwar mai      London (is) a big city, twenty
baro sar Cosvaro.                   times more big than Colosvar.
Nani yag, mullas.                   There is no fire, it is dead.
Nasiliom cai purdiom but; besh te   I have suffered and toiled much:
pansch bersch mi homas slugadhis    twenty and five years I was
pa Baron Splini regimentos.         serving in Baron Splini’s
                                    regiment.
Saro chiro cado Del; cavo o puro    Every time (cometh) from God;
diñas o Del.                        that old (age) God gave.
Me camov te jav ando                I wish to go unto Bukarest—from
Buka-resti—cado Bukaresti lachico   Bukarest, the good country, (it
tem dur drom jin keri.              is) a far way unto (my) house.
Mi hom nasvallo.                    I am sick.
Soskei nai jas ke baro ful-cheri?   Why do you not go to the great
                                    physician
Wei mangue ke nani man lové         Because I have no money I can’t
nastis jav.                         go
Belgra sho mille pu cado            Belgrade (is) six miles of land
Cosvarri; hin oter miro chabo.      from Colosvar; there is my son.
Te vas Del l’erangue ke meclan      May God help the gentlemen that
man abri ando a pan-dibo.           they let me out (from) in the
                                    prison.
Opré rukh sarkhi ye chiriclo, ca    On the tree (is) the nest of the
kerel anre e chiricli.              bird, where makes eggs the female
                                    bird.
Ca hin tiro ker?                    Where is your house?
Ando calo berkho, oter bin miro     In the black mountain, there is
ker, av prala mensar; jas mengue    my house; come brother with me;
keri.                               let us go to my house.
Ando bersch dui chiro, ye ven, ta   In the year (are) two seasons,
nilei.                              the winter and summer.
O felhegos del o breschino, te      The cloud gives the rain, and
purdel o barbal.                    puffs (forth) the wind.
Hir mi Devlis camo but cavo         By my God I love much that
erai—lacho manus o, Anglus, tama    gentleman—a good man he, an
rakarel Ungarica; avel catari       Englishman, but he speaks
ando urdon le trin                  Hungarian; he came {364a} hither
gras-tensas—beshel cate abri po     in a waggon with three horses, he
buklo tan; le poivasis ando bas     sits here out in the wilderness;
irinel ando lel.  Bo zedun stadji   {364b} with a pencil in his hand
ta bari barba.                      he writes in a book.  He has a
                                    green hat and a big beard.

VOCABULARY OF THEIR LANGUAGE


This section of the book could not be transcribed in 1997 as it contained
many non-european languages and Gutenberg didn’t support Unicode then.
It will be transcribed at some future point.—DP, August 2019.



APPENDIX


MISCELLANIES IN THE GITÁNO LANGUAGE


ADVERTISEMENT


IT is with the view of preserving as many as possible of the monuments of
the Spanish Gypsy tongue that the author inserts the following pieces;
they are for the most part, whether original or translated, the
productions of the ‘Aficion’ of Seville, of whom something has been said
in the Preface to the Spurious Gypsy Poetry of Andalusia; not the least
remarkable, however, of these pieces is a genuine Gypsy composition, the
translation of the Apostles’ Creed by the Gypsies of Cordova, made under
the circumstances detailed in the second part of the first volume.  To
all have been affixed translations, more or less literal, to assist those
who may wish to form some acquaintance with the Gitáno language.


COTORRES ON CHIPE CALLI / MISCELLANIES


BATO Nonrro sos socabas on o tarpe, manjirificádo quejésa tute acnao;
abillános or tute sichén, y querese tute orependola andial on la chen
sata on o tarpe; or manrro nonrro de cata chibel diñanoslo sejoñía, y
estormenanos nonrrias bisauras andial sata gabéres estormenamos á nonrros
bisaraores; y nasti nes muques petrar on la bajanbó, bus listrabanos de
chorre.—Anarania.

FATHER Our, who dwellest in the heaven, sanctified become thy name;
come-to-us the thy kingdom, and be-done thy will so in the earth as in
the heaven; the bread our of every day give-us-it to-day, and pardon-us
our debts so as we-others pardon (to) our debtors; and not let us fall in
the temptation, but deliver-us from wickedness.—Amen.

Panchabo on Ostebe Bato saro-asisiláble, Perbaraor de o tarpe y la chen,
y on Gresoné desquero Beyio Chabal nonrrio Eraño, sos guilló
sar-trujatapucherído per troecane y sardaña de or Chanispero Manjaro, y
pureló de Manjari ostelinda debla; Bricholó ostelé de or asislar de Brono
Alieñicato; guilló trejuficao, mule y cabañao; y sundiló á los casinobés,
{416} y á or brodeló chibél repureló de enrre los mulés, y encalomó á los
otarpes, y soscabela bestíque á la tabastorre de Ostebe Bato
saro-asisilable, ende aotér á de abillar á sarplar á los Apucheris y
mulés.  Panchabo on or Chanispero Manjaró, la Manjari Cangari Pebuldórica
y Rebuldórica, la Erunon de los Manjarós, or Estormén de los crejétes, la
repureló de la mansenquere y la chibibén verable.—Anarania, Tebléque.

I believe in God, Father all-powerful, creator of the heaven and the
earth, and in Christ his only Son our Lord, who went conceived by deed
and favour of the Spirit Holy, and born of blessed goddess divine;
suffered under (of) the might of Bronos Alienicatos; {417a} went
crucified, dead and buried; and descended to the conflagrations, and on
the third day revived {417b} from among the dead, and ascended to the
heavens, and dwells seated at the right-hand of God, Father all-powerful,
from there he-has to come to impeach (to) the living and dead.  I believe
in the Spirit Holy, the Holy Church Catholic and Apostolic, the communion
of the saints, the remission of the sins, the re-birth of the flesh, and
the life everlasting.—Amen, Jesus.


OCANAJIMIA A LA DEBLA / PRAYER TO THE VIRGIN


O Débla quirindía, Day de sarós los Bordeles on coin panchabo: per los
duquipénes sos naquelástes á or pindré de la trejúl de tute Chaborró
majarolísimo te manguélo, Débla, me alcorabíses de tute chaborró or
estormén de sares las dojis y crejétes sos menda udicáre aquerao on
andoba surdéte.—Anarania, Tebléque.

Ostebé te berarbe Ostelinda! perdoripe sirles de sardañá; or Erañó sin
sartute; bresban tute sirles enrré sares las rumiles, y bresban sin or
frujero de tute po.—Tebléque.

Manjari Ostelinda, day de Ostebé, brichardila per gabéres crejetaóres
aocaná y on la ocana de nonrra beribén!—Anarania, Tebléque.

Chimuclani or Bato, or Chabal, or Chanispero manjaró; sata sia on or
presimelo, aocana, y gajeres: on los sicles de los sicles.—Anarania.

O most holy Virgin, Mother of all the Christians in whom I believe; for
the agony which thou didst endure at the foot of the cross of thy most
blessed Son, I entreat thee, Virgin, that thou wilt obtain for me, from
thy Son, the remission of all the crimes and sins which I may have
committed in this world.—Amen, Jesus.

God save thee, Maria! full art thou of grace; the Lord is with thee;
blessed art thou amongst all women, and blessed is the fruit of thy
womb.—Jesus.

Holy Maria, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of
our death!—Amen, Jesus.

Glory (to) the Father, the Son, (and) the Holy Ghost; as was in the
beginning, now, and for ever: in the ages of the ages.—Amen.


OR CREDO / THE CREED
SARTA LO CHIBELARON LOS CALES DE CORDOVATI / TRANSLATED BY THE GYSPIES OF
CORDOVA


Pachabélo en Un-debel batu tosaro-baro, que ha querdi el char y la
chiqué; y en Un-debél chinoró su unico chaboró eraño de amangue, que
chaló en el trupo de la Majarí por el Duquende Majoró, y abió del veo de
la Majarí; guilló curádo debájo de la sila de Pontio Piláto el chínobaró;
guilló mulo y garabado; se chalé á las jacháris; al trin chibé se ha
sicobádo de los mulés al char; sinéla bejádo á las baste de Un-debél
barreá; y de oté abiará á juzgar á los mulés y á los que no lo sinélan;
pachabélo en el Majaró; la Cangrí Majarí bareá; el jalar de los Majaries;
lo mecó de los grécos; la resureccion de la maas, y la ochi que no
maréla.

I believe in God the Father all-great, who has made the heaven and the
earth; and in God the young, his only Son, the Lord of us, who went into
the body of the blessed (maid) by (means of) the Holy Ghost, and came out
of the womb of the blessed; he was tormented beneath the power of Pontius
Pilate, the great Alguazil; was dead and buried; he went (down) to the
fires; on the third day he raised himself from the dead unto the heaven;
he is seated at the major hand of God; and from thence he shall come to
judge the dead and those who are not (dead).  I believe in the blessed
one; in the church holy and great; the banquet of the saints; the
remission of sins; the resurrection of the flesh, and the life which does
not die.


REJELENDRES / PROVERBS


Or soscabela juco y teráble garipé no le sin perfiné anelar relichi.

Bus yes manupe cha machagarno le pendan chuchipon los brochabos.

Sacais sos ne dicobélan calochin ne bridaquélan.

Coin terelare trasardos e dinastes nasti le buchare berrandáñas á
desquero contiqué.

On sares las cachimanes de Sersen abillen rechés.

Bus mola yes chirriclo on la ba sos grés balogando.

A Ostebé brichardilando y sar or mochique diñelando.

Bus mola quesar jero de gabuño sos manporí de bombardo.

Dicár y panchabár, sata penda Manjaró Lillar.

Or esorjié de or narsichislé sin chismar lachinguél.

Las queles mistos grobelás: per macara chibel la pirí y de rachi la
operisa.

Aunsos me dicas vriardao de jorpoy ne sirlo braco.

Chachipé con jujána—Calzones de buchí y medias de lana.

Chuquel sos piréla cocal teréla.

Len sos sonsi bela pani ó reblandani teréla.

He who is lean and has scabs needs not carry a net. {419a}

When a man goes drunk the boys say to him ‘suet.’ {419b}

Eyes which see not break no heart.

He who has a roof of glass let him not fling stones at his neighbour.

Into all the taverns of Spain may reeds come.

A bird in the hand is worth more than a hundred flying.

To God (be) praying and with the flail plying.

It is worth more to be the head of a mouse than the tail of a lion.

To see and to believe, as Saint Thomas says.

The extreme {421a} of a dwarf is to spit largely.

Houses well managed:—at mid-day the stew-pan, {421b} and at night salad.

Although thou seest me dressed in wool I am no sheep.

Truth with falsehood-Breeches of silk and stockings of Wool. {421c}

The dog who walks finds a bone.

The river which makes a noise {421d} has either water or stones.


ODORES YE TILICHE / THE LOVER’S JEALOUSY


Dica Callí sos linastes terelas, plasarandote misto men calochin
desquiñao de trinchas puñís y canrrias, sata anjella terelaba dicando on
los chorres naquelos sos me tesumiaste, y andial reutilá á men Jelí,
diñela gao á sos menda orobibele; men puñi sin trincha per la quimbíla
nevel de yes manu barbaló; sos saro se muca per or jandorro.  Lo sos bus
prejeno Callí de los Bengorros sin sos nu muqueis per yes manú barbalo. . . .
On tute orchíri nu chismo, tramistó on coin te araquera, sos menda
terela men nostus pa avel sos me caméla bus sos túte.

Reflect, O Callee! {421e} what motives hast thou (now that my heart is
doting on thee, having rested awhile from so many cares and griefs which
formerly it endured, beholding the evil passages which thou preparedst
for me;) to recede thus from my love, giving occasion to me to weep.  My
agony is great on account of thy recent acquaintance with a rich man; for
every thing is abandoned for money’s sake.  What I most feel, O Callee,
of the devils is, that thou abandonest me for a rich man . . . I spit
upon thy beauty, and also upon him who converses with thee, for I keep my
money for another who loves me more than thou.


OR PERSIBARARSE SIN CHORO / THE EVILS OF CONCUBINAGE


Gajeres sin corbó rifian soscabar yes manu persibaraó, per sos saro se
linbidían odoros y besllí, y per esegritón apuchelan on sardañá de saros
los Benjes, techescándo grejos y olajais—de sustíri sos lo resaronomó
niquilla murmo; y andial lo fendi sos terelamos de querar sin techescarle
yes sulibári á or Jelí, y ne panchabar on caute manusardí, persos trutan
á yesque lilí.

It is always a strange danger for a man to live in concubinage, because
all turns to jealousy and quarrelling, and at last they live in the
favour of all the devils, voiding oaths and curses: so that what is cheap
turns out dear.  So the best we can do, is to cast a bridle on love, and
trust to no woman, for they {423a} make a man mad.


LOS CHORES / THE ROBBERS


On grejelo chiro begoreó yesque berbanilla de chores á la burda de yes
mostipelo a oleba rachí—Andial sos la prejenáron los cambraís
presimeláron a cobadrar; sar andoba linaste changanó or lanbró, se
sustiñó de la charipé de lapa, utiló la pusca, y niquilló platanando per
or platesqueró de or mostipelo á la burda sos socabelába pandí, y per or
jobi de la clichí chibeló or jundró de la pusca, le diñó pesquibo á or
languté, y le sumuqueló yes bruchasnó on la tesquéra á or Jojerián de los
ostilaóres y lo techescó de or gráte á ostelé.  Andial sos los debus
quimbilos dicobeláron á desquero Jojerian on chen sar las canrriáles de
la Beriben, lo chibeláron espusifias á los grastes, y niquilláron
chapescando, trutando la romuy apála, per bausalé de las machas ó
almedálles de liripió.

On a certain time arrived a band of thieves at the gate of a farm-house
at midnight.  So soon as the dogs heard them they began to bark, which
causing {423b} the labourer to awake, he raised himself from his bed with
a start, took his musket, and went running to the court-yard of the
farm-house to the gate, which was shut, placed the barrel of his musket
to the keyhole, gave his finger its desire, {423c} and sent a bullet into
the forehead of the captain of the robbers, casting him down from his
horse.  Soon as the other fellows saw their captain on the ground in the
agonies of death, they clapped spurs to their horses, and galloped off
fleeing, turning their faces back on account of the flies {423d} or
almonds of lead.


COTOR YE GABICOTE MAJARO / SPECIMEN OF THE GOSPEL
OR SOS SARO LO HA CHIBADO EN CHIPE CALLI OR RANDADOR DE OCONOS PAPIRIS
AUNSOS NARDIAN LO HA DINADO AL SURDETE / FROM THE AUTHOR’S UNPUBLISHED
TRANSLATION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT


Y soscabando dicando dicó los Barbalós sos techescában desqueros mansis
on or Gazofilacio; y dicó tramisto yesque pispiricha chorrorita, sos
techescába duis chinorris sarabállis, y peneló: en chachipé os peneló,
sos caba chorrorri pispiricha á techescao bus sos sares los avéles:
persos saros ondobas han techescao per los mansis de Ostebé, de lo sos
les costuña; bus caba e desquero chorrorri á techescao saro or susalo sos
terelaba.  Y pendó á cormuñís, sos pendában del cangaripé, soscabelaba
uriardao de orchíris berrandáñas, y de dénes: Cabas buchis sos dicais,
abillarán chibeles, bus ne muquelará berrandáña costuñé berrandáña, sos
ne quesesa demarabeá.  Y le prucháron y pendáron: Docurdó, bus quesa
ondoba?  Y sos simachi abicará bus ondoba presimáre?  Ondole pencló:
Dicad, sos nasti queseis jonjabaos; persos butes abillarán on men acnao,
pendando: man sirlo, y or chiro soscabéla pajes: Garabaos de guillelar
apalà, de ondoláyos: y bus junureis bargañas y sustiñés, ne os espajuéis;
persos sin perfiné sos ondoba chundée brotobó, bus nasti quesa escotriá
or egresitón.  Oclinde les pendaba: se sustinará suéste sartra suéste, y
sichén sartra sichén, y abicará bareles dajirós de chénes per los gaos, y
retréques y bocátas, y abicará buchengerés espajuis, y bareles simachis
de otárpe: bus anjella de saro ondoba os sinastrarán y preguillarán,
enregandoós á la Socretería, y los ostardós, y os legerarán á los
Ocláyes, y á los Baquedunis, per men acnao: y ondoba os chundeará on
chachipé.  Terelad pus seraji on bros garlochínes de ne orobrár anjella
sata abicáis de brudilar, persos man os diñaré rotuñí y chanár, la sos ne
asislarán resistír ne sartra pendar satos bros enormes.  Y quesaréis
enregaos de bros bátos, y oprános, y sastris, y monrrores, y querarán
merar á cormuñí de avéres; y os cangelarán saros per men acnao; bus ne
carjibará ies bal de bros jerós.  Sar bras opachirimá avelaréis bras
orchis: pus bus dicaréis á Jerusalén relli, oclinde chanad sos, desqueró
petra soscabela pajés; oclinde los soscabelan on la Chutéa, chapésguen á
los tober-jélis; y los que on macara de ondolaya, niquillense; y lo sos
on los oltariqués, nasti enrren on ondoláya; persos ondoba sen chibéles
de Abilláza, pa sos chundéen sares las buchís soscabélan libanás; bus
isna de las ararís, y de las sos diñan de oropielar on asirios chibéles;
persos abicará bare quichartúra costuñe la chen, e guillará pa andoba
Gao; y petrarán á surabi de janrró; y quesan legeraos sinastros á sarés
las chénes, y Jerusalén quesá omaná de los suestíles, sasta sos quejesen
los chirós de las sichenes; y abicara simachés on or orcán, y on la
chimutiá, y on las uchurgañis; y on la chen chalabeó on la suéte per or
dán sos bausalará la loria y des-querós gulas; muquelándo los romáres
bifaos per dajiraló de las buchís sos costuñe abillarán á saro or
surdéte; persos los soláres de los otarpes quesan sar-chalabeaos; y
oclinde dicarán á or Chaboró e Manú abillar costuñe yesque minrriclá sar
baro asislar y Chimusolano: bus presimelaren á chundear caba buchis,
dicád, y sustiñád bros jerós, persos pajes soscabela bras redención.

And whilst looking he saw the rich who cast their treasures into the
treasury; and he saw also a poor widow, who cast two small coins, and he
said: In truth I tell you, that this poor widow has cast more than all
the others; because all those have cast, as offerings to God, from that
which to them abounded; but she from her poverty has cast all the
substance which she had.  And he said to some, who said of the temple,
that it was adorned with fair stones, and with gifts: These things which
ye see, days shall come, when stone shall not remain upon stone, which
shall not be demolished.  And they asked him and said: Master, when shall
this be? and what sign shall there be when this begins?  He said: See,
that ye be not deceived, because many shall come in my name, saying: I am
(he), and the time is near: beware ye of going after them: and when ye
shall hear (of) wars and revolts do not fear, because it is needful that
this happen first, for the end shall not be immediately.  Then he said to
them: Nation shall rise against nation, and country against country, and
there shall be great tremblings of earth among the towns, and pestilences
and famines; and there shall be frightful things, and great signs in the
heaven: but before all this they shall make ye captive, and shall
persecute, delivering ye over to the synagogue, and prisons; and they
shall carry ye to the kings, and the governors, on account of my name:
and this shall happen to you for truth.  Keep then firm in your hearts,
not to think before how ye have to answer, for I will give you mouth and
wisdom, which all your enemies shall not be able to resist, or
contradict.  And ye shall be delivered over by your fathers, and
brothers, and relations, and friends, and they shall put to death some of
you; and all shall hate you for my name; but not one hair of your heads
shall perish.  With your patience ye shall possess your souls: but when
ye shall see Jerusalem surrounded, then know that its fall is near; then
those who are in Judea, let them escape to the mountains; and those who
are in the midst of her, let them go out; and those who are in the
fields, let them not enter into her; because those are days of vengeance,
that all the things which are written may happen; but alas to the
pregnant and those who give suck in those days, for there shall be great
distress upon the earth, and it shall move onward against this people;
and they shall fall by the edge of the sword; and they shall be carried
captive to all the countries, and Jerusalem shall be trodden by the
nations, until are accomplished the times of the nations; and there shall
be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and in the earth
trouble of nations from the fear which the sea and its billows shall
cause; leaving men frozen with terror of the things which shall come upon
all the world; because the powers of the heavens shall be shaken; and
then they shall see the Son of Man coming upon a cloud with great power
and glory: when these things begin to happen, look ye, and raise your
heads, for your redemption is near.



THE ENGLISH DIALECT OF THE ROMMANY


    ‘TACHIPEN if I jaw ‘doi, I can lel a bit of tan to hatch: N’etist I
    shan’t puch kekomi wafu gorgies.’

The above sentence, dear reader, I heard from the mouth of Mr.
Petulengro, the last time that he did me the honour to visit me at my
poor house, which was the day after Mol-divvus, {428a} 1842: he stayed
with me during the greatest part of the morning, discoursing on the
affairs of Egypt, the aspect of which, he assured me, was becoming daily
worse and worse.  ‘There is no living for the poor people, brother,’ said
he, ‘the chok-engres (police) pursue us from place to place, and the
gorgios are become either so poor or miserly, that they grudge our cattle
a bite of grass by the way side, and ourselves a yard of ground to light
a fire upon.  Unless times alter, brother, and of that I see no
probability, unless you are made either poknees or mecralliskoe geiro
(justice of the peace or prime minister), I am afraid the poor persons
will have to give up wandering altogether, and then what will become of
them?

‘However, brother,’ he continued, in a more cheerful tone, ‘I am no
hindity mush, {428b} as you well know.  I suppose you have not forgot
how, fifteen years ago, when you made horse-shoes in the little dingle by
the side of the great north road, I lent you fifty cottors {428c} to
purchase the wonderful trotting cob of the innkeeper with the green
Newmarket coat, which three days after you sold for two hundred.

‘Well, brother, if you had wanted the two hundred, instead of the fifty,
I could have lent them to you, and would have done so, for I knew you
would not be long pazorrhus to me.  I am no hindity mush, brother, no
Irishman; I laid out the other day twenty pounds in buying rupenoe
peam-engries; {429a} and in the Chong-gav, {429b} have a house of my own
with a yard behind it.

‘_And_, _forsooth_, _if I go thither_, _I can choose a place to light a
fire upon_, _and shall have no necessity to ask leave of these here
Gentiles_.’

Well, dear reader, this last is the translation of the Gypsy sentence
which heads the chapter, and which is a very characteristic specimen of
the general way of speaking of the English Gypsies.

The language, as they generally speak it, is a broken jargon, in which
few of the grammatical peculiarities of the Rommany are to be
distinguished.  In fact, what has been said of the Spanish Gypsy dialect
holds good with respect to the English as commonly spoken: yet the
English dialect has in reality suffered much less than the Spanish, and
still retains its original syntax to a certain extent, its peculiar
manner of conjugating verbs, and declining nouns and pronouns.  I must,
however, qualify this last assertion, by observing that in the genuine
Rommany there are no prepositions, but, on the contrary, post-positions;
now, in the case of the English dialect, these post-positions have been
lost, and their want, with the exception of the genitive, has been
supplied with English prepositions, as may be seen by a short example:—

Hungarian Gypsy. {429c}   English Gypsy.      English.
Job                       Yow                 He
Leste                     Leste               Of him
Las                       Las                 To him
Les                       Los                 Him
Lester                    From leste          From him
Leha                      With leste          With him
                          PLURAL.
Jole                      Yaun                They
Lente                     Lente               Of them
Len                       Len                 To them
Len                       Len                 Them
Lender                    From Lende          From them

The following comparison of words selected at random from the English and
Spanish dialects of the Rommany will, perhaps, not be uninteresting to
the philologist or even to the general reader.  Could a doubt be at
present entertained that the Gypsy language is virtually the same in all
parts of the world where it is spoken, I conceive that such a vocabulary
would at once remove it.

             English Gypsy.      Spanish Gypsy.
Ant          Cria                Crianse
Bread        Morro               Manro
City         Forus               Foros
Dead         Mulo                Mulo
Enough       Dosta               Dosta
Fish         Matcho              Macho
Great        Boro                Baro
House        Ker                 Quer
Iron         Saster              Sas
King         Krallis             Crális
Love(I)      Camova              Camelo
Moon         Tchun               Chimutra
Night        Rarde               Rati
Onion        Purrum              Porumia
Poison       Drav                Drao
Quick        Sig                 Sigo
Rain         Brishindo           Brejindal
Sunday       Koorokey            Curque
Teeth        Danor               Dani
Village      Gav                 Gao
White        Pauno               Parno
Yes          Avalí               Ungalé

As specimens of how the English dialect maybe written, the following
translations of the Lord’s Prayer and Belief will perhaps suffice.


THE LORD’S PRAYER


Míry dad, odoi oprey adrey tíro tatcho tan; Medeveleskoe si tíro nav;
awel tiro tem, be kairdo tiro lav acoi drey pov sá odoi adrey kosgo tan:
dey mande ke-divvus miry diry morro, ta fordel man sor so mé pazzorrus
tute, sá mé fordel sor so wavior mushor pazzorrus amande; ma riggur man
adrey kek dosch, ley man abri sor wafodu; tiro se o tem, tíro or
zoozli-wast, tiro or corauni, kanaw ta ever-komi.  Avali.  Tatchipen.


LITERAL TRANSLATION


My Father, yonder up within thy good place; god-like be thy name; come
thy kingdom, be done thy word here in earth as yonder in good place.
Give to me to-day my dear bread, and forgive me all that I am indebted to
thee, as I forgive all that other men are indebted to me; not lead me
into any ill; take me out (of) all evil; thine is the kingdom, thine the
strong hand, thine the crown, now and evermore.  Yea.  Truth.


THE BELIEF


Mé apasavenna drey mi-dovvel, Dad soro-ruslo, savo kedas charvus ta pov:
apasavenna drey olescro yeck chavo moro arauno Christos, lias
medeveleskoe Baval-engro, beano of wendror of medeveleskoe gairy Mary:
kurredo tuley me-cralliskoe geiro Pontius Pilaten wast; nasko pré rukh,
moreno, chivios adrey o hev; jas yov tuley o kálo dron ke wafudo tan,
bengeskoe stariben; jongorasa o trito divvus, atchasa opré to tatcho tan,
Mí-dovvels kair; bestela kanaw odoi pré Mi-dovvels tacho wast Dad
soro-boro; ava sig to lel shoonaben opré mestepen and merripen.
Apasa-venna en develeskoe Baval-engro; Boro develeskoe congrí, develeskoe
pios of sore tacho foky ketteney, soror wafudu-pénes fordias, soror mulor
jongorella, kek merella apopli.  Avalí, palor.


LITERAL TRANSLATION


I believe in my God, Father all powerful, who made heaven and earth; I
believe in his one Son our Lord Christ, conceived by Holy Ghost, {432}
born of bowels of Holy Virgin Mary, beaten under the royal governor
Pontius Pilate’s hand; hung on a tree, slain, put into the grave; went he
down the black road to bad place, the devil’s prison; he awaked the third
day, ascended up to good place, my God’s house; sits now there on my
God’s right hand Father-all-powerful; shall come soon to hold judgment
over life and death.  I believe in Holy Ghost; Great Holy Church, Holy
festival of all good people together, all sins forgiveness, that all dead
arise, no more die again.  Yea, brothers.


SPECIMEN OF A SONG IN THE VULGAR OR BROKEN ROMMANY


As I was a jawing to the gav yeck divvus,
I met on the dron miro Rommany chi:
I puch’d yoi whether she com sar mande;
And she penn’d: tu si wafo Rommany,

And I penn’d, I shall ker tu miro tacho Rommany,
Fornigh tute but dui chavé:
Methinks I’ll cam tute for miro merripen,
If tu but pen, thou wilt commo sar mande.


TRANSLATION


One day as I was going to the village,
I met on the road my Rommany lass:
I ask’d her whether she would come with me,
And she said thou hast another wife.

I said, I will make thee my lawful wife,
Because thou hast but two children;
Methinks I will love thee until my death,
If thou but say thou wilt come with me.

Many other specimens of the English Gypsy muse might be here adduced; it
is probable, however, that the above will have fully satisfied the
curiosity of the reader.  It has been inserted here for the purpose of
showing that the Gypsies have songs in their own language, a fact which
has been denied.  In its metre it resembles the ancient Sclavonian
ballads, with which it has another feature in common—the absence of
rhyme.



FOOTNOTES


{0}  Although the present edition is only in one volume, Borrow’s
original references to the two volumes in the above Dedication and the
Preface have been retained.

{1}  _Quarterly Review_, Dec. 1842

{2}  _Edinburgh Review_, Feb. 1843.

{3}  _Examiner_, Dec. 17, 1842.

{4}  _Spectator_, Dec. 7, 1842.

{5}  Thou speakest well, brother!

{6}  This is quite a mistake: I know very little of what has been written
concerning these people: even the work of Grellmann had not come beneath
my perusal at the time of the publication of the first edition of _The
Zincali_, which I certainly do not regret: for though I believe the
learned German to be quite right in his theory with respect to the origin
of the Gypsies, his acquaintance with their character, habits, and
peculiarities, seems to have been extremely limited.

{7}  Good day.

{8}  Glandered horse.

{9}  Two brothers.

{10}  The edition here referred to has long since been out of print.

{25}  It may not be amiss to give the etymology of the word engro, which
so frequently occurs in compound words in the English Gypsy tongue:—the
_en_ properly belongs to the preceding noun, being one of the forms of
the genitive case; for example, Elik-_en_ boro congry, the great Church
or Cathedral of Ely; the _gro_ or _geiro_ (Spanish _guero_), is the
Sanscrit _kar_, a particle much used in that language in the formation of
compounds; I need scarcely add that _monger_ in the English words
Costermonger, Ironmonger, etc., is derived from the same root.

{26}  For the knowledge of this fact I am indebted to the well-known and
enterprising traveller, Mr. Vigne, whose highly interesting work on
Cashmire and the Panjab requires no recommendation from me.

{28}  Gorgio (Spanish _gacho_), a man who is not a Gypsy: the Spanish
Gypsies term the Gentiles Busne, the meaning of which word will be
explained farther on.

{36}  An Eastern image tantamount to the taking away of life.

{37}  Gentes non multum morigeratæ, sed quasi bruta animalia et furentes.
See vol. xxii. of the Supplement to the works of Muratori, p. 890.

{43}  As quoted by Hervas: _Catalogo de las Lenguas_, vol. iii. p. 306.

{54}  We have found this beautiful metaphor both in Gypsy and Spanish; it
runs thus in the former language:—

    ‘LAS MUCHIS.  (The Sparks.)

    ‘Bus de gres chabalas orchiris man diqué á yes chiro purelar
    sistilias sata rujias, y or sisli carjibal diñando trutas discandas.

{69}  In the above little tale the writer confesses that there are many
things purely imaginary; the most material point, however, the attempt to
sack the town during the pestilence, which was defeated by the courage
and activity of an individual, rests on historical evidence the most
satisfactory.  It is thus mentioned in the work of Francisco de Cordova
(he was surnamed Cordova from having been for many years canon in that
city):—

    ‘Annis præteritis Iuliobrigam urbem, vulgo Logroño, pestilenti
    laborantem morbo, et hominibus vacuam invadere hi ac diripere
    tentarunt, perfecissentque ni Dens O. M. cuiusdam _bibliopolæ_ opera,
    in corum, capita, quam urbi moliebantur perniciem avertisset.’
    _Didascalia_, Lugduni, 1615, I vol. 8VO. p. 405, cap. 50.

{79}  Yet notwithstanding that we refuse credit to these particular
narrations of Quiñones and Fajardo, acts of cannibalism may certainly
have been perpetrated by the Gitános of Spain in ancient times, when they
were for the most part semi-savages living amongst mountains and deserts,
where food was hard to be procured: famine may have occasionally
compelled them to prey on human flesh, as it has in modern times
compelled people far more civilised than wandering Gypsies.

{82a}  England.

{82b}  Spain.

{86}  _Mithridates_: erster Theil, s. 241.

{98}  Torreblanca: _de Magia_, 1678.

{100a}  Exodus, chap. xiii. v. 9.  ‘And it shall be for a sign unto thee
upon thy hand.’ Eng.  Trans.

{100b}  No chapter in the book of Job contains any such verse.

{100c}  ‘And the children of Israel went out with an high hand.’  Exodus,
chap. xiv. v. 8. Eng.  Trans.

{100d}  No such verse is to be found in the book mentioned.

{109a}  Prov., chap. vii. vers. 11, 12.  ‘She is loud and stubborn; her
feet abide not in her house.  Now is she without, now in the streets, and
lieth in wait at every corner.’  Eng. Trans.

{109b}  _Historia de Alonso_, _mozo de muchos amos_: or, the story of
Alonso, servant of many masters; an entertaining novel, written in the
seventeenth century, by Geronimo of Alcalá, from which some extracts were
given in the first edition of the present work.

{117}  O Ali! O Mahomet!—God is God!—A Turkish war-cry.

{120a}  Gen. xlix. 22.

{120b}  In the original there is a play on words.—It is not necessary to
enter into particulars farther than to observe that in the Hebrew
language ‘ain’ means a well, and likewise an eye.

{120c}  Gen. xlviii. 16.  In the English version the exact sense of the
inspired original is not conveyed.  The descendants of Joseph are to
increase like fish.

{122}  Exodus, chap. xii. v. 37, 38.

{130a}  Quiñones, p. 11.

{130b}  The writer will by no means answer for the truth of these
statements respecting Gypsy marriages.

{138}  This statement is incorrect.

{139}  The Torlaquis (idle vagabonds), Hadgies (saints), and Dervishes
(mendicant friars) of the East, are Gypsies neither by origin nor habits,
but are in general people who support themselves in idleness by
practising upon the credulity and superstition of the Moslems.

{140}  In the Moorish Arabic, [Picture: Arabic text] —or reus al haramin,
the literal meaning being, ‘heads or captains of thieves.’

{153}  A favourite saying amongst this class of people is the following:
‘Es preciso que cada uno coma de su oficio’; _i.e._ every one must live
by his trade.

{167}  For the above well-drawn character of Charles the Third I am
indebted to the pen of Louis de Usoz y Rio, my coadjutor in the editing
of the New Testament in Spanish (Madrid, 1837).  For a further account of
this gentleman, the reader is referred to _The Bible in Spain_, preface,
p. xxii.

{181}  Steal a horse.

{189}  The lame devil: Asmodeus.

{199}  Rinconete and Cortadillo.

{200}  The great river, or Guadalquiver.

{211}  A fountain in Paradise.

{230}  A Gypsy word signifying ‘exceeding much.’

{235}  ‘Lengua muy cerráda.’

{236a}  ‘No camelo ser eray, es Caló mi nacimiénto;
No camelo ser eray, eon ser Calé me conténto.’

{236b}  Armed partisans, or guerillas on horseback: they waged a war of
extermination against the French, but at the same time plundered their
countrymen without scruple.

{241a}  The Basques speak a Tartar dialect which strikingly resembles the
Mongolian and the Mandchou.

{241b}  A small nation or rather sect of contrabandistas, who inhabit the
valley of Pas amidst the mountains of Santander; they carry long sticks,
in the handling of which they are unequalled.  Armed with one of these
sticks, a smuggler of Pas has been known to beat off two mounted
dragoons.

{242}  The hostess, Maria Diaz, and her son Joan José Lopez, were present
when the outcast uttered these prophetic words.

{243}  Eodem anno precipue fuit pestis seu mortalitas Forlivio.

{247}  This work is styled _Historia de los Gitános_, by J. M—, published
at Barcelona in the year 1832; it consists of ninety-three very small and
scantily furnished pages.  Its chief, we might say its only merit, is the
style, which is fluent and easy.  The writer is a theorist, and
sacrifices truth and probability to the shrine of one idea, and that one
of the most absurd that ever entered the head of an individual.  He
endeavours to persuade his readers that the Gitános are the descendants
of the Moors, and the greatest part of his work is a history of those
Africans, from the time of their arrival in the Peninsula till their
expatriation by Philip the Third.  The Gitános he supposes to be various
tribes of wandering Moors, who baffled pursuit amidst the fastnesses of
the hills; he denies that they are of the same origin as the Gypsies,
Bohemians, etc., of other lands, though he does not back his denial by
any proofs, and is confessedly ignorant of the Gitáno language, the grand
criterion.

To this work we shall revert on a future occasion.

{262a}  A Russian word signifying beans.

{262b}  The term for poisoning swine in English Gypsy is _Drabbing
bawlor_.

{276}  Por médio de chalanerías.

{278a}  The English.

{278b}  These words are very ancient, and were, perhaps, used by the
earliest Spanish Gypsies; they differ much from the language of the
present day, and are quite unintelligible to the modern Gitános.

{281}  It was speedily prohibited, together with the Basque gospel; by a
royal ordonnance, however, which appeared in the Gazette of Madrid, in
August 1838, every public library in the kingdom was empowered to
purchase two copies in both languages, as the works in question were
allowed to possess some merit _in a literary point of view_.  For a
particular account of the Basque translation, and also some remarks on
the Euscarra language, the reader is referred to _The Bible in Spain_,
vol. ii. p. 385–398.

{288}  Steal me, Gypsy.

{290}  A species of gendarme or armed policeman.  The Miquelets have
existed in Spain for upwards of two hundred years.  They are called
Miquelets, from the name of their original leader.  They are generally
Aragonese by nation, and reclaimed robbers.

{292}  Those who may be desirous of perusing the originals of the
following rhymes should consult former editions of this work.

{304}  For the original, see other editions.

{321}  For this information concerning Palmiréno, and also for a sight of
the somewhat rare volume written by him, the author was indebted to a
kind friend, a native of Spain.

{67}  A very unfair inference; that some of the Gypsies did not
understand the author when he spoke Romaic, was no proof that their own
private language was a feigned one, invented for thievish purposes.

{324}  Of all these, the most terrible, and whose sway endured for the
longest period, were the Mongols, as they were called: few, however, of
his original Mongolian warriors followed Timour in the invasion of India.
His armies latterly appear to have consisted chiefly of Turcomans and
Persians.  It was to obtain popularity amongst these soldiery that he
abandoned his old religion, a kind of fetish, or sorcery, and became a
Mahometan.

{325a}  As quoted by Adelung, _Mithridates_, vol. i.

{325b}  Mithridates.

{326}  For example, in the _Historia de los Gitános_, of which we have
had occasion to speak in the first part of the present work: amongst
other things the author says, p. 95, ‘If there exist any similitude of
customs between the Gitános and the Gypsies, the Zigeuners, the Zingári,
and the Bohemians, they (the Gitános) cannot, however, be confounded with
these nomad castes, nor the same origin be attributed to them; . . . all
that we shall find in common between these people will be, that the one
(the Gypsies, etc.) arrived fugitives from the heart of Asia by the
steppes of Tartary, at the beginning of the fifteenth century, while the
Gitános, descended from the Arab or Morisco tribes, came from the coast
of Africa as conquerors at the beginning of the eighth.’

He gets rid of any evidence with respect to the origin of the Gitános
which their language might be capable of affording in the following
summary manner: ‘As to the particular jargon which they use, any
investigation which people might pretend to make would be quite useless;
in the first place, on account of the reserve which they exhibit on this
point; and secondly, because, in the event of some being found
sufficiently communicative, the information which they could impart would
lead to no advantageous result, owing to their extreme ignorance.’

It is scarcely worth while to offer a remark on reasoning which could
only emanate from an understanding of the very lowest order,—so the
Gitános are so extremely ignorant, that however frank they might wish to
be, they would be unable to tell the curious inquirer the names for bread
and water, meat and salt, in their own peculiar tongue—for, assuredly,
had they sense enough to afford that slight quantum of information, it
would lead to two very advantageous results, by proving, first, that they
spoke the same language as the Gypsies, etc., and were consequently the
same people—and secondly, that they came not from the coast of Northern
Africa, where only Arabic and Shillah are spoken, but from the heart of
Asia, three words of the four being pure Sanscrit.

{330}  As given in the _Mithridates_ of Adelung.

{346a}  Possibly from the Russian _boloss_, which has the same
signification.

{346b}  Basque, _burua_.

{346c}  Sanscrit, _schirra_.

{346d}  These two words, which Hervas supposes to be Italian used in an
improper sense, are probably of quite another origin.  _Len_, in Gitáno,
signifies ‘river,’ whilst _vadi_ in Russian is equivalent to water.

{348}  It is not our intention to weary the reader with prolix specimens;
nevertheless, in corroboration of what we have asserted, we shall take
the liberty of offering a few.  Piar, to drink, (p. 188,) is Sanscrit,
_piava_.  Basilea, gallows, (p. 158,) is Russian, _becilitz_.  Caramo,
wine, and gurapo, galley, (pp. 162, 176,) Arabic, _haram_ (which
literally signifies that which is forbidden) and _grab_.  Iza, (p. 179,)
harlot, Turkish, _kize_.  Harton, bread, (p. 177,) Greek, _artos_.
Guido, good, and hurgamandera, harlot, (pp. 177, 178,) German, _gut_ and
_hure_.  Tiple, wine, (p. 197,) is the same as the English word tipple,
Gypsy, _tapillar_.

{351}  This word is pure Wallachian (λοναρε), and was brought by the
Gypsies into England; it means ‘booty,’ or what is called in the present
cant language, ‘swag.’  The Gypsies call booty ‘louripen.’

{359}  Christmas, literally Wine-day.

{360a}  Irishman or beggar, literally a dirty squalid person.

{360b}  Guineas.

{360c}  Silver teapots.

{360d}  The Gypsy word for a certain town.

{361a}  In the Spanish Gypsy version, ‘our bread of each day.’

{361b}  Span., ‘forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.’

{361c}  Eng., ‘all evil _from_’; Span., ‘from all ugliness.’

{361d}  Span., ‘for thine.’

{362}  By Hungary is here meant not only Hungary proper, but
Transylvania.

{363a}  How many days made come the gentleman hither.

{363b}  How many-year fellow are you.

{363c}  Of a grosh.

{363d}  My name shall be to you for Moses my brother.

{364a}  Comes.

{364b}  Empty place.

{416}  V. _Casinoben_ in Lexicon.

{417a}  By these two words, Pontius Pilate is represented, but whence
they are derived I know not.

{417b}  Reborn.

{419a}  Poverty is always avoided.

{419b}  A drunkard reduces himself to the condition of a hog.

{421a}  The most he can do.

{421b}  The puchero, or pan of glazed earth, in which bacon, beef, and
garbanzos are stewed.

{421c}  Truth contrasts strangely with falsehood; this is a genuine Gypsy
proverb, as are the two which follow; it is repeated throughout Spain
_without being understood_.

{421d}  In the original _wears a mouth_; the meaning is, ask nothing,
gain nothing.

{421e}  Female Gypsy,

{423a}  Women _understood_.

{423b}  With that motive awoke the labourer.  _Orig_.

{423c}  Gave its pleasure to the finger, _i.e._ his finger was itching to
draw the trigger, and he humoured it.

{423d}  They feared the shot and slugs, which are compared, and not
badly, to flies and almonds.

{428a}  Christmas, literally Wine-day.

{428b}  Irishman or beggar, literally a dirty squalid person.

{428c}  Guineas.

{429a}  Silver tea-pots.

{429b}  The Gypsy word for a certain town.

{429c}  As given by Grellmann.

{432}  The English Gypsies having, in their dialect, no other term for
ghost than mulo, which simply means a dead person, I have been obliged to
substitute a compound word.  Bavalengro signifies literally a wind thing,
or _form of air_.





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