“There is nothing hid that shall not be revealed.”
In giving an account of the Gipsies, the subject would be
very incomplete, were not something said about the manner
in which they have drawn into their body the blood of other
people, and the way in which the race is perpetuated; and
a description given of their present condition, and future
prospects, particularly as our author has overlooked some
important points connected with their history, which I will
endeavour to furnish. One of these important points is,
that he has confined his description of the present generation
of settled Gipsies to the descendants of those who left
the tent subsequently to the commencement of the French war,
to the exclusion of those who settled long anterior to that
time. It is also necessary to treat the subject abstractly—to
throw it into principles, to give the philosophy of it—to ensure
the better understanding, and perpetuate the knowledge
of it, amid the shifting objects that present themselves to
the eye of the world, and even of the people described.
Gipsydom may, in a word, be said to be literally a sealed
book, a terra incognita, to mankind in general. The Gipsies
arrived in Europe a strange race; strange in their origin,
appearance, habits and disposition. Supposing that their
habits had never led them to interfere with the property of
others, or obtain money by any objectionable way, but that
they had confined their calling to tinkering, making and
selling wares, trading, and such like, they would, in all probability,
still have remained a caste in the community, with
a strong feeling of sympathy for those living in other countries,
in consequence of the singularity of their origin and
development, as distinguished from those of the other inhabitants,
their language and that degree of prejudice which
most nations have for foreigners settling among them and
particularly so in the case of a people so different in their
appearance and mode of life as were the Gipsies from those
among whom they settled. That may especially be said of
tented Gipsies, and even of those who, from time to time,
would be forced to leave the tent, and settle in towns, or
live as tramps, as distinguished from tented Gipsies. The
simple idea of their origin and descent, tribe and language,
transmitted from generation to generation, being so different
from those of the people among whom they lived, was, in itself,
perfectly sufficient to retain them members of Gipsydom,
although, in cases of intermarriages with the natives,
the mixed breeds might have gone over to the white race,
and been lost to the general body. But in most of such
cases that would hardly have taken place; for between the
two races, the difference of feeling, were it only a slight
jealousy, would have led the smaller and more exclusive and
bigoted to bring the issue of such intermarriages within its
influence. In Great Britain, the Gipsies are entitled, in one
respect at least, to be called Englishmen, Scotchmen, or
Irishmen; for their general ideas as men, as distinguished
from their being Gipsies, and their language, indicate them,
at once, to be such, nearly as much as the common natives
of these countries. A half or mixed breed might more
especially be termed or pass for a native; so that, by clinging
to the Gipsies, and hiding his Gipsy descent and affiliation
from the native race, he would lose nothing of the outward
character of an ordinary inhabitant; while any benefit
arising from his being a Gipsy would, at the same time, be
enjoyed by him.
But the subject assumes a totally different aspect when,
instead of a slight jealousy existing between the two races,
the difference in feeling is such as if a gulf had been placed
between them. The effect of a marriage between a white
and a Gipsy, especially if he or she is known to be a Gipsy,
is such, that the white instinctively withdraws from any connexion
with his own race, and casts his lot with the Gipsies.
The children born of such unions become ultra Gipsies.
A very fine illustration of this principle of half-breed
ultra Gipsyism is given by Mr. Borrow, in his “Gipsies in
Spain,” in the case of an officer in the Spanish army adopting
a young female Gipsy child, whose parents had been
executed, and educating and marrying her. A son of this
marriage, who rose to be a captain in the service of Donna
Isabel, hated the white race so intensely, as, when a child,
to tell his father that he wished he (his father) was dead.
At whose door must the cause of such a feeling be laid?
One would naturally suppose that the child would have left,
perhaps despised, his mother’s people, and clung to those
whom the world deemed respectable. But the case was
different. Suppose the mother had not been prompted by
some of her own race, while growing up, and the son, in his
turn, not prompted by the mother, all that was necessary to
stir up his hatred toward the white race was simply to
know who he was, as I will illustrate.[258]
Suppose that a great iron-master should fancy a Cinderella,
living by scraping pieces of iron from the refuse of his furnaces,
educate her, and marry her, as great iron-masters have
done. Being both of the same race, a complete amalgamation
would take place at once: perhaps the wife was the
best person of the two. Silly people might sneer at such a
marriage; but if no objection attached to the personal character
of the woman, she might be received into society at
once, and admired by some, and envied by others, particularly
if she had no “low relations” living near her. She
might even boast of having been a Cinderella, if it happened
to be well known; in which case she might be deemed free
of pride, and consequently a very sensible, amiable woman,
and worthy of every admiration.
But who ever heard of such a thing taking place with a
Gipsy? Suppose a Gipsy elevated to such a position as that
spoken of; she would not, she dare not, mention her descent
to any one not of her own race, and far less would she give
an exposé of Gipsydom; for she instinctively perceives, or
at least believes, that, such is the prejudice against her race,
people would avoid her as something horridly frightful, although
she might be the finest woman in the world. Who
ever heard of a civilized Gipsy, before Mr. Borrow mentioned
those having attained to such an eminent position in
society at Moscow? Are there none such elsewhere than in
Moscow? There are many in Scotland. It is this unfortunate
prejudice against the name that forces all our Gipsies,
the moment they leave the tent, (which they almost invariably
do with their blood diluted with the white,) to hide
from the public their being Gipsies; for they are morbidly
sensitive of the odium which attaches to the name and race
being applied to them. It is quite time enough to discover
the great secret of Nature, when it is unavoidable to enter
“The undiscovered country from whose bourne
No traveller returns.”
As little disposition is manifested by these Gipsies to “show
their hands:” the uncertainty of such an experiment makes
the very idea dreadful to them. Hence it is that the constant
aim of settled Gipsies is to hide the fact of their being
Gipsies from other people.
It is a very common idea that Gipsies do not mix their
blood with that of other people. Now, what is the fact? I
may, indeed, venture to assert, that there is not a full-blooded
Gipsy in Scotland;[259] and, most positively, that in England,
where the race is held to be so pure, all that can be said of
some families is, that they have not been crossed, as far
as is known; but that, with these exceptions, the body is
much mixed: “dreadfully mixed” is the Gipsies’ description,
as, in many instances, my own eyes have witnessed.
This brings me to an issue with a writer in the Edinburgh
Review, who, in October, 1841, when reviewing the
“Gipsies in Spain,” by Mr. Borrow, says, “Their descent
is purity itself; no mixture of European blood has contaminated
theirs. . . . . . They, (the stranger and Gipsy,)
may live together; the European vagrant is often to be
found in the tents of the Gipsies; they may join in the fellowship
of sport, the pursuit of plunder, the management of
their low trades, but they can never fraternize.” A writer
in Blackwood’s Magazine, on the same occasion, says, “Their
care to preserve the purity of their race might, in itself,
have confuted the unfounded charge, so often brought against
them, of stealing children, and bringing them up as Gipsies.”
More unfounded ideas than those put forth by these two
writers are scarcely possible to be imagined.[260]
This mixture of “the blood” is notorious. Many a full or
nearly full-blood Gipsy will say that Gipsies do not mix
their blood with that of the stranger. In such a case he
only shuffles; for he whispers to himself two words, in his
own language, which contradict what he says; which words
I forget, but they mean “I belie it;” that is, he belies what
he has just said. Besides, it lets the Gipsies down in their
imagination, and, they think, in the imagination of others,
to allow that the blood of their race is mixed. It is also a
secret which they would rather hide from the world.[261] I am
intimate with English Gipsy families, in none of whom is
full blood; the most that can be said of them is, that they
range from nearly full, say from seven-eighths, down to one-eighth,
and perhaps less. Suppose that a fair-haired common
native marries a full-blood Gipsy: the issue of such an
union will show some of the children, in point of external
appearance, perfectly European, like the father, and others,
Gipsies, like the mother. If two such European-like Gipsies
marry, some of their children will take after the Gipsy,
and be pretty, even very, dark, and others after the white
race. In crossing a second time with full white blood, the
issue will take still more after the white race. Still, the
Gipsy cannot be crossed altogether out; he will come up,
but of course in a modified form. Should the white blood
be of a dark complexion and hair, and have no tendency,
from its ancestry, to turn to fair, in its descent, then the
issue between it and the Gipsy will always be dusky. I
have seen all this, and had it fully explained by the Gipsies
themselves.
The result of this mixture of the Gipsy and European
blood is founded, not only on the ordinary principles of
physiology, but on common sense itself; for why should not
such issue take after the European, in preference to the
Gipsy? If a residence in Europe of 450 years has had no
effect upon the appearance of what may be termed pure
Gipsies, (a point which, at least, is questionable,) the length
of time, the effects of climate, and the influence of mind,
should, at least, predispose it to merge, by mixture, into
something bearing a resemblance to the ordinary European;
which, by a continued crossing, it does. Indeed, it soon disappears
to the common eye: to a stranger it is not observable,
unless the mixture happens to be met with in a tent,
or under such circumstances as one expects to meet with
Gipsies. In paying a visit to an English Gipsy family, I
was invited to call again, on such a day, when I would meet
with some Welsh Gipsies. The principal Welsh Gipsy I
found to be a very quiet man, with fair hair, and quite like
an ordinary Englishman; who was admitted by his English
brethren to “speak deep Gipsy.” He had just arrived from
Wales, where he had been employed in an iron work. Unless
I am misinformed, the issue of a fair-haired European
and an ordinary Hindoo woman, in India, sometimes shows
the same result as I have stated of the Gipsies; but it ought
to be much more so in the case of the Gipsy in Europe, on
account of the race having been so long acclimated there.
Indeed, it is generally believed, that the population of
Europe contains a large part of Asiatic blood, from that continent
having at one time been overrun by Asiatics, who
mixed their blood with an indigenous race which they met
with there.
Of the mixed Spanish Gipsy, to whom I have alluded, Mr.
Borrow says, that “he had flaxen hair; his eyes small, and,
like ferrets, red and fiery; and his complexion like a brick,
or dull red, chequered with spots of purple.” This description,
with, perhaps, the exception of the red eyes, and spots
of purple, is quite in keeping with that of many of the mixed
Gipsies. The race seems even to have given a preference
to fair or red hair, in the case of such children and grown-up
natives as they have adopted into their body. I have
met with a young Spaniard from Corunna, who is so much
acquainted with the Gipsies in Spain, that I took him to be
a mixed Gipsy himself; and he says that mixtures among
the Spanish Gipsies are very common; the white man, in
such cases, always casting his lot with the Gipsies. None
of the French, German, or Hungarian Gipsies whom I have
met with in America are full blood, or anything like it; but
I am told there are such, and very black too, as the English
Gipsies assert. Indeed, considering how “dreadfully mixed”
the Gipsies are in Great Britain and Ireland, I cannot but
conclude that they are more or less so all over the world.[262]
The blood once mixed, there is nothing to prevent a little
more being added, and a little more, and so on. There are
English Gipsy girls who have gone to work in factories in
the Eastern States, and picked up husbands among the
ordinary youths of these establishments. And what difference
does it make? Is not the game in the Gipsy woman’s
own hands? Will she not bring up her children Gipsies,
initiate them in all the mysteries of Gipsydom, and teach
them the language? There is another married to an American
farmer “down east.” All that she has to do is simply
to “tell her wonderful story,” as the Gipsies express it.
Jonathan must think that he has caged a queer kind of a bird
in the English Gipsy woman. But will he say to his friends,
or neighbours, that his wife is a Gipsy? Will the children
tell that their mother, and, consequently, they themselves
are Gipsies? No, indeed. Jonathan, however, will find
her a very active, managing woman, who will always be
a-stirring, and will not allow her “old man” to kindle the
fires of a morning, milk his cows, or clean his boots, and, as
far as she is concerned, will bring him lots of chabos.
Gipsies, however, do not like such marriages; still they
take place. They are more apt to occur when they have
attained to that degree of security in a community where no
one knows them to be Gipsies, or when they have settled in
a neighbourhood to which they had come strangers. The
parents exercise more constraint over their sons than daughters;
they cannot bear the idea of a son taking a strange
woman for a wife; for a strange woman is a snare unto the
Gipsies. If a Scottish Gipsy lad shows a hankering after a
stranger lass, the mother will soon “cut his comb,” by asking
him, “What would she say if she knew you to be a loon
of a Gipsy? Take such or such a one (Gipsies) for a wife,
if you want one.” But it is different with the girls. If a
Gipsy lass is determined to have the stranger for a husband,
she has only to say, “Never mind, mother; it makes no
earthly difference; I’ll turn that fellow round my little finger;
I’ll take care of the children when I get them.” I do
not know how the settled Scottish Gipsies broach the subject
of being Gipsies to the stranger son-in-law when he is
introduced among them. I can imagine the girl, during the
courtship, saying to herself, with reference to her intended,
“I’ll lead you captive, my pretty fellow!” And captive she
does lead him, in more senses than one. Perhaps the subject
is not broached to him till after she has borne him children;
or, if he is any way soft, the mother, with a leering
eye, will say to him at once, “Ah ha, lad, ye’re among Gipsies
now!” In such a case, the young man will be perfectly
bewildered to know what it all means, so utterly ignorant
is he about Gipsies; when, however, he comes to learn all
about it, it will be mum with him, as if his wife’s friends
had burked him, or some “old Gipsy” had come along, and
sworn him in on the point of a drawn dirk. It may be that
the Gipsy never mentions the subject to her husband at all,
for fear he should “take her life;” she can, at all events, trust
her secret with her children.
Why should there be any hard feelings towards a Gipsy
for “taking in and burking” a native in this way? She
does not propose—she only disposes of herself. She has no
business to tell the other that she is a Gipsy. She does not
consider herself a worse woman than he is a man, but, on
the contrary, a better. She would rather prefer a chabo,
but, somehow or other, she sacrifices her feelings, and takes
the gorgio, “for better or worse.” Or there may be considerable
advantages to be derived from the connexion, so
that she spreads her snares to secure them. Being a Gipsy,
she has the whip-hand of the husband, for no consideration
will induce him to divulge to any one the fact that his wife
is a Gipsy—should she have told him; in which case she
has such a hold upon him, as to have “turned him round her
little finger” most effectually. “Married a Gipsy! it’s no’
possible!” “Ay, it is possible. There!” she will say, chattering
her words, and, with her fingers, showing him the
signs. He soon gets reconciled to the “better or worse”
which he has taken to his bosom, as well as to her “folk,”
and becomes strongly attached to them. The least thing
that the Gipsy can then do is to tell her “wonderful story”
to her children. It is not teaching them any damnable
creed; it is only telling them who they are; so that they
may acknowledge herself, her people, her blood, and the
blood of the children themselves.
And how does the Gipsy woman bring up her children in
regard to her own race? She tells them her “wonderful
story”—informs them who they are, and of the dreadful prejudice
that exists against them, simply for being Gipsies.
She then tells them about Pharaoh and Joseph in Egypt,
terming her people, “Pharaoh’s folk.” In short, she dazzles
the imagination of the children, from the moment they can
comprehend the simplest idea. Then she teaches them her
words, or language, as the “real Egyptian,” and frightens
and bewilders the youthful mind by telling them that they
are subject to be hanged if they are known to be Gipsies,
or to speak these words, or will be looked upon as wild
beasts by those around them. She then informs the children
how long the Gipsies have been in the country; how
they lived in tents; how they were persecuted, banished,
and hanged, merely for being Gipsies. She then tells them
of her people being in every part of the world, whom they
can recognize by the language and signs which she is
teaching them; and that her race will everywhere be ready
to shed their blood for them. She then dilates upon the
benefits that arise from being a Gipsy—benefits negative as
well as positive; for should they ever be set upon—garroted,
for example—all that they will have to do will be to cry
out some such expression as “Biené raté, calo chabo,” (good-night,
Gipsy, or black fellow,) when, if there is a Gipsy near
them, he will protect them. The children will be fondled
by her relatives, handed about and hugged as “little ducks
of Gipsies.” The granny, while sitting at the fireside, like
a witch, performs no small part in the education of the children,
making them fairly dance with excitement. In this
manner do the children of Gipsies have the Gipsy soul literally
breathed into them.[263]
In such a way—what with the supreme influence which
the mother has exercised over the mind of the child from its
very infancy; the manner in which its imagination has been
dazzled; and the dreadful prejudice towards the Gipsies,
which they all apply, directly or indirectly, to themselves—does
the Gipsy adhere to his race. When he comes to be
a youth, he naturally enough endeavours to find his way to
a tent, to have a look at the “old thing.” He does not,
however, think much of it as a reality; but it presents something
very poetical and imaginative to his mind, when he
contemplates it as the state from which his mysterious forefathers
have sprung.[264] It makes very little difference, in the
case to which I have alluded, whether the father be a Gipsy
or not; the children all go with the mother, for they inherit
the blood through her. What with the blood, the education,
the words, and the signs, they are simply Gipsies,
and will be such, as long as they retain a consciousness of
who they are, and any peculiarities exclusively Gipsy.
As it sometimes happens that the father, only, is a Gipsy, the
attachment may not be so strong, on the part of the children,
as if the blood had come through the mother; still, it likewise
attaches them to the body. A great deal of jealousy
is shown by the Gipsies, when a son marries a strange woman.
A greater ado is not made by some Catholics, to
bring up their children Catholics, under such circumstances,
than is exhibited by Gipsies for their children knowing their
secret—that is, the “wonderful story;” which has the effect
of leading them, in their turn, to marry with Gipsies. The
race is very jealous of “the blood” being lost; or that their
“wonderful story” should become known to those who are
not Gipsies.
There are people who cannot imagine how a man can be
a Gipsy and have fair hair. They think that, from his having
fair hair, he cannot have the same feelings of what they
imagine to be a true Gipsy, that is, a black-haired one.
One naturally asks, what effect can the matter of colour of
hair have upon the mind of a member of any community or
clan, whether the hair be black, brown, red, fair, or white,
or the person have no hair at all? Let us imagine a Gipsy
with fair hair. How long is it since the white blood was
introduced among his ancestors? Perhaps three hundred
and fifty years. The race of which he comes has been,
more or less, mixing and crossing ever since, but always
retaining the issue within its own community. Is he fair-haired?
Then he may be half a Gipsy; he may be three-fourths
Gipsy, and perhaps even more. At the present day,
the “points” of such a Gipsy are altogether arbitrary; some
profess to know their points, but it is a thing altogether uncertain.
All that they know and adhere to is, that they are
Gipsies, and nothing else. In this manner are the British
Gipsies, (with the exception of some English families, about
whom there is no certainty,) members of the Gipsy community,
or nation, as such—each having some of the blood; and
not Gipsies of an ideal purity of race. What they know is,
that their parents and relatives are Gipsies; that Gipsies
separate them from the eternity that is past; and, consequently,
that they are Gipsies. They, indeed, accept their
descent, blood, and nationality as instinctively as they accept
the very sex which God has given them. Which of the two
knows most of Gipsydom—the fair-haired or black? Almost
invariably the fair.[265]
We naturally ask, what effect has this difference in appearance
upon two such members of one family—the one with
European, the other with Gipsy, features and colour? and
the answer is this: The first will hide the fact of his being
a Gipsy from strangers; indeed, he is ashamed to let it be
known that he is a Gipsy; and he is afraid that people, not
knowing how it came about, would laugh at him. “What!”
they would ask, “you a Gipsy? The idea is absurd.” Besides,
it facilitates his getting on in the world, to prevent it
being known that he is a Gipsy. The other member cannot
deny that he is a Gipsy, because any one can see it. Such
are the Gipsies who are more apt to cling to the tent, or the
more original ways of the old stock. They are very proud
of their appearance; but it is a pride accompanied with disadvantages,
and even pain. For, after all, the beauty and
pleasure in being a Gipsy is to have the other cast of features
and colour; he has as much of the blood and language
as the other, while he can go into any kind of company—a
sort of Jack-the-Giant-Killer in his invisible coat. The
nearer the Gipsy comes to the original colour of his race,
the less chance is there of improving him. He knows what
he is like; and well does he know the feeling that people
entertain for him. In fact, he feels that there is no use in
being anything but what people call a Gipsy. But it is different
with those of European countenance and colour, or
when these have been modified or diluted by a mixture of
white blood. They can, then, enter upon any sphere of employment
to which they have a mind, and their personal advantages
and outward circumstances will admit of.[266]
Let us now consider the destiny of such European-like
Gipsies. Suppose a female of this description marries a
native in settled life, which both of them follow. She brings
the children up as Gipsies, in the way described. The children
are apt to become ultra Gipsies. If they, in their turn,
marry natives, they do the same with their children; so that,
if the same system were always followed, they would continue
Gipsies forever. For all that is necessary to perpetuate
the tribe, is simply for the Gipsies to know who they are,
and the prejudice that exists toward the race of which they
are a part; to say nothing of the innate associations connected
with their origin and descent. Such a phenomenon
may be fitly compared to the action of an auger; with this
difference, that the auger may lose its edge, but the Gipsy
will drill his way through generations of the ordinary
natives, and, at the end, come out as sharp as ever; all the
circumstances attending the two races being exactly the
same at the end as at the beginning. In this way, let their
blood be mixed as it may, let even their blood-relationship
outside of their body be what it may, the Gipsies still remain,
in their private associations, a distinct people, into whatever
sphere of human action they may enter; although, in point
of blood, appearance, occupation, character, and religion,
they may have drifted the breadth of a hemisphere from the
stakes and tent of the original Gipsy.
There can surely be no great difficulty in comprehending
so simple an idea as this. Here we have a foreign race introduced
amongst us, which has been proscribed, legally as
well as socially. To escape the effects of this double proscription,
the people have hidden the fact of their belonging
to the race, although they have clung to it with an ardour
worthy of universal admiration. The proscription is toward
the name and race as such, that is, the blood; and is not
general, but absolute; none having ever been received into
society as Gipsies. For this reason, every Gipsy, every one
who has Gipsy blood in his veins, applies the proscription
to himself. On the other hand, he has his own descent—the
Gipsy descent; and, as I have already said, he has
naturally as little desire to wish a different descent, as he
has to have a different sex. As Finns do not wish to have
been born Englishmen, or Englishmen Finns, so Gipsies are
perfectly satisfied with their descent, nay, extremely proud
of it. They would not change it, if they could, for any consideration.
When Gipsies, therefore, marry natives, they do
not only willingly bring up their children as Gipsies, but by
every moral influence they are forced to do it, and cling to
each other. In this way has the race been absolutely cut off
from that of the ordinary natives; all intercourse between
the two, unless on the part of the bush Gipsy, in the way of
dealings, having been of a clandestine nature, on the side of
the Gipsy, or, in other words, incog. How melancholy it is
to think that such a state of things exists in the British
Islands!
The Gipsy, born of a Gipsy mother and a native father,
does, therefore, most naturally, and, I may say, invariably,
follow the Gipsy connexion; the simplest impulse of manhood
compels him to do it. Being born, or becoming a
member of settled society, he joins in the ordinary amusements
or occupations of his fellow-creatures of both races;
which he does the more readily when he feels conscious of
the incognito which he bears. But he has been brought up
from his mother’s knee a Gipsy; he knows nothing else; his
associations with his relatives have been Gipsy; and he has
in his veins that which the white damns, and, he doubts not,
would damn in him, were he to know of it. He has, moreover,
the words and signs of the Gipsy race; he is brought
in contact with the Gipsy race; he perceives that his feelings
are reciprocated by them, and that both have the same
reserve and timidity for “outsiders.” He does not reason
abstractly what he is not, but instinctively holds that he is
“one of them;” that he has in his mind, his heart, and his
blood, that which the common native has not, and which
makes him a chabo, that is, a Gipsy.
The mother, in the case mentioned, is certainly not a full-blood
Gipsy, nor anything like it; she does not know her
real “points;” all that she knows is, that she is a “Gipsy:”
so that, if the youth’s father is an ordinary native, the youth
holds himself to be a half-and-half, nominally, though he
does not know what he really is, as regards blood. Imagine,
then, that he takes such a half-and-half Gipsy for a wife, and
that both tell their children that they are “Gipsies:” the
children, perhaps, knowing nothing of the real origin of
their parents, take up the “wonderful story,” and hand it
down to their children, initiating them, in their turn, in the
“mysteries.” These children never doubt that they are
“Gipsies,” although their Gipsyism may, as I have already
said, have “drifted the breadth of a hemisphere from the
stakes and tent of the original Gipsy.” In this manner is
Gipsydom kept alive, by its turning round and round in a
perpetual circle. And in this manner does it happen, that
a native finds his own children Gipsies, from having, in seeking
for a wife, stumbled upon an Egyptian woman. Gipsydom
is, therefore, the aggregate of Gipsies, wherever, or
under whatever circumstances, they are to be found. It is,
in two respects, an absolute question; absolute as to blood,
and absolute as to those teachings, feelings, and associations,
that, by a moral necessity, accompany the possession of the
blood.
This brings me to an issue with Mr. Borrow. Speaking
of the destination of the Spanish Gipsies, he says: “If the
Gitanos 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.” I can well
understand that such procedure, on the part of the Spanish
Government, was calculated to soften the ferocious disposition
of the Gipsies; but did it bring them a point nearer
to an amalgamation with the people than before? Mr. Borrow
continues: “The position which they occupy is the
lowest. . . . . The outcast of the prison and the presidio,
who calls himself Spaniard, would feel insulted by being
termed Gitano, and would thank God that he is not.” He
continues: “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 Gitanos, in their manners, in their habits, in their affections
and their dislikes, and perhaps even in their physical
peculiarities, (yet ‘no washing,’ as Mr. Borrow approvingly
quotes, ‘will turn the Gipsy white;’) much must be forgotten
on both sides, and everything is forgotten in course
of time.” So great, indeed, was the prejudice against the
Gipsies, that the law of Charles III, in 1783, forbade the
people calling them Gitanos, under the penalty of being
punished for slander! because, his majesty said: “I declare
that those who go by the name of Gitanos are not so by
origin or nature; nor do they proceed from any infected
root(!)” What regard would the native Spaniards pay to
the injunction, that they would be punished for “slander,”
for calling the Gipsies Gitanos, in place of Spaniards?
We may well believe that such a law would be a dead letter
in Spain; where, according to Mr. Borrow, “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.”
Mr. Borrow leaves the question where he found it. Even
remove the prejudice that exists against the Gipsies, as regards
their colour, habits, and history; what then? Would
they, as a people cease to be? Would they amalgamate
with the natives, so as to be lost? Assuredly not. They
may mix their blood, but they preserve their mental identity
in the world; even although, in point of physical appearance,
habits, manners, occupation, character, and creed, they
might “become confounded with the residue of the population.”
In that respect, they are the most exclusive people
of almost any to be found in the world. We have only to
consider what Freemasonry is, and we can form an idea of
what Gipsyism is, in one of its aspects. It rests upon the
broadest of all bases—flesh and blood, a common and
mysterious origin, a common language, a common history, a
common persecution, and a common odium, in every part of
the world. Remove the prejudice against the Gipsies, make
it as respectable to be Gipsies, as the world, with its ignorance
of many of the race, deem it desreputable; what
then? Some of them might come out with their “tents and
encampments,” and banners and mottoes: the “cuddy and
the creel, the hammer and tongs, the tent and the tin kettle”
forever. People need not sneer at the “cuddy and the
creel.” The idea conveys a world of poetry to the mind of
a Gipsy. Mrs. Fall, of Dunbar, thought it so poetical, that
she had it, as we have seen, worked in tapestry; and it is
doubtless carefully preserved, as an heir-loom, among her
collateral descendants.[267]
Mr. Borrow speaks of the Gipsies “declining” in Spain.
Ask a Scotchman about the Scottish Gipsies, and he will answer:
“The Scotch Gipsies have pretty much died out.”
“Died out?” I ask; “that is impossible; for who are more
prolific than Gipsies?” “Oh, then, they have become settled,
and civilized.” “And ceased to be Gipsies?” I continue.
“Exactly so,” he replies. What idea can be more ridiculous
than that of saying, that if a Gipsy leaves the tent,
settles in a town, and attends church, he ceases to be a
Gipsy; and that, if he takes to the tent again, he becomes a
Gipsy again? What has a man’s occupation, habits, or character,
to do with his clan, tribe, or nationality? Does education,
does religion, remove from his mind a knowledge of
who he is, or change his blood? Are not our own Borderers
and Highlanders as much Borderers and Highlanders as ever
they were? Are not Spanish Gipsies still Spanish Gipsies, although
a change may have come over the characters and circumstances
of some of them? It would be absurd to deny it.[268]
Mr. Borrow has not sufficiently examined into Spanish
Gipsyism to pass a reliable opinion upon it. He says:
“One thing is certain, in the history of the Gitanos; that
the sect flourished and encreased, so long as the law recommended
and enjoined measures the most harsh and severe
for its suppression. . . . The caste of the Gitanos still
exists, but is neither so extensive, nor so formidable, as a
century ago, when the law, in denouncing Gitanismo, proposed
to the Gitanos the alternatives of death for persisting
in their profession, or slavery for abandoning it.” These
are very singular alternatives. The latter is certainly not
to be found in any of the Spanish laws quoted by Mr. Borrow.
I am at a loss to perceive the point of his reasoning.
There can be no difficulty in believing that Gipsies would
rather encrease in a state of peace, than if they were hunted
from place to place, like wild beasts; and consequently,
having renounced their former mode or life, they would, in
Mr. Borrow’s own words, “cease to play a distinct part in
the history of Spain, and the law would no longer speak of
them as a distinct people.” And the same might, to a certain
extent, be said of the Spanish people. Mr. Borrow
again says: “That the Gitanos are not so numerous as in
former times, witness those barrios, in various towns, still denominated
Gitanerias, but from whence the Gitanos have
disappeared, even like the Moors from the Morerias.” But
Mr. Borrow himself, in the same work, gives a good reason
for the disappearance of the Gipsies from these Gitanerias;
for he says: “The Gitanerias were soon considered as public
nuisances, on which account the Gitanos were forbidden to
live together in particular parts of the town, to hold meetings,
and even to intermarry with each other.” If the disappearance
of the Gipsies from Spain was like that of the
Moors, it would appear that they had left, or been expelled
from, the country; a theory which Mr. Borrow does not advance.
The Gipsies, to a certain extent, may have left these
barriers, or been expelled from them, and settled, as tradesmen,
mechanics, and what not, in other parts of the same or
other towns; so as to be in a position the more able to get
on in the world. Still, many of them are in the colonies.
In Cuba there are many, as soldiers and musicians, dealers
in mules and red pepper, which businesses they almost
monopolize, and jobbers and dealers in various wares; and
doubtless there are some of them innkeepers, and others
following other occupations. In Mexico there are not a few.
I know of a Gitano who has a fine wholesale and retail cigar
store in Virginia.[269]
Mr. Borrow concludes, in regard to the Spanish Gipsies,
thus: “We have already expressed our belief that the caste
has diminished of latter years; whether this diminution was
the result of one or many causes combined; of a partial
change of habits, of pestilence or sickness, of war or
famine, or of a freer intercourse with the Spanish population,
we have no means of determining, and shall abstain from
offering conjectures on the subject.” In this way does he
leave the question just where he found it. Is there any
reason to doubt that Gipsydom is essentially the same in
Spain as in Great Britain; or that its future will be guided
by any other principles than those which regulate that of
the British Gipsies? Indeed, I am astonished that Mr.
Borrow should advance the idea that Gipsies should decrease
by “changing their habits;” they might not encrease so fast,
in a settled life, as when more exposed to the air, and not
molested by the Spanish Government. I am no less astonished
that he should think they would decrease by “a freer
intercourse with the Spanish population;” when, in fact,
such mixtures are well known to go with the Gipsies; the
mixture being, in the estimation of the British Gipsies, calculated
to strengthen and invigorate the race itself. Had
Mr. Borrow kept in mind the case of the half-blood Gipsy
captain, he could have had no difficulty in learning what
became of mixed Gipsies.[270]
It doubtless holds in Spain, as in Great Britain, that as
the Gipsy enters into settled life, and engages in a respectable
calling, he hides his descent, and even mixes his blood
with that of the country, and becomes ashamed of the name
before the public; but is as much, at heart, a Gipsy, as any
others of his race. And this theory is borne out by Mr.
Borrow himself, when he speaks of “the unwillingness of
the Spanish Gipsies to utter, when speaking of themselves,
the detested expression Gitano; a word which seldom escapes
their mouths.” We might therefore conclude, that
the Spanish Gipsies, with the exception of the more original
and bigoted stock, would hide their nationality from the common
Spaniards, and so escape their notice. It is not at all
likely that the half-pay Gipsy captain would mention to the
public that he was a Gipsy, although he admitted it to Mr.
Borrow, under the peculiar circumstances in which he met
him. My Spanish acquaintance informs me that the Gitanos,
generally, hide their nationality from the rest of the world.
Such a case is evidently told by Mr. Borrow, in the vagabond
Gipsy, Antonio, at Badajoz, who termed a rich Gipsy,
living in the same town, a hog, because he evidently would
not countenance him. Antonio may possibly have been
kicked out of his house, in attempting to enter it. He accused
him of having married a Spaniard, and of fain attempting
to pass himself for a Spaniard. As regards the wife,
she might have been a Gipsy with very little of “the blood”
in her veins; or a Spaniard, reared by Gipsies; or an ordinary
Spanish maiden, to whom the Gipsy would teach his
language, as sometimes happens among the English Gipsies.
His wishing to pass for a Spaniard had nothing to do with
his being, but not wishing to be known as, a Gipsy. The
same is done by almost all our Scottish Gipsies. In England,
those who do not follow the tent—I mean the more
mixed and better-class—are even afraid of each other.
“Afraid of what?” said I, to such an English Gipsy;
“ashamed of being Gipsies?” “No, sir,” (with great emphasis;)
“not ashamed of being Gipsies, but of being known
to other people as Gipsies.” “A world of difference,” I replied.
What does the world hold to be a Gipsy, and what
does it hold to be the feelings of a man? If we consider
these two questions, we can have little difficulty in understanding
the wish of such Gipsies to disguise themselves.
It is in this way, and in the mixing of the blood, that this
so-called “dying out of the Gipsies” is to be accounted
for.[271]
It is singular that Mr. Borrow should attribute the change
which has come over the Spanish Gipsies, so much to the
law passed by Charles III. in 1783; and that he should
characterize it as an enlightened, wise, and liberal law; distinguished
by justice and clemency; and as being calculated
to exert considerable influence over the destiny of the race;
nay, as being the principal, if not the only, cause for the
“decline” of it in Spain. It was headed: “Rules for repressing
and chastising the vagrant mode of life, and other excesses,
of those who are called Gitanos.” Article II. forbids,
under penalties, the Gipsies “using their language, dress, or
vagrant kind of life, which they had hitherto followed.”
Article XI. prohibits them from “wandering about the
roads and uninhabited places, even with the pretext of
visiting markets and fairs.” Article IX. reads thus: “Those
who have abandoned the dress, name, language or jargon,
associations and manners of Gitanos, 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-labourer, shall be proceeded against as
common vagrants.” Articles XVI. and XVII. enact, that
“the children, and young people of both sexes, who are not
above sixteen years of age, shall be separated from their
parents, who wander about and have no employment, [which
was forbidden by the law itself,] and shall be destined to
learn something, or shall be placed out in hospices or houses
of instruction.” Article XX. dooms to death, without remission,
Gipsies who, for the second time, relapse into their old
habits.
I cannot agree with Mr. Borrow, when he says, that this
law “differs in character” from any which had hitherto been
enacted, in connection with the body in Spain, if I take
those preceding it, as given by himself. The only difference
between it and some of the previous laws is, that it allowed
the Gipsy to be admitted to whatever office or employment
to which he might apply himself, and likewise to any guilds
or communities; but it prohibited him from settling in the
capital, or any of the royal residences; and forbade him, on
pain of death, to publicly profess what he was—that is, a
Gipsy. With the trifling exceptions mentioned, the law of
Charles III. was as foolish a one as ever was passed
against the Gipsies. These very exceptions show what the
letter, whatever the execution, of previous laws must have
been. Nor can we form any opinion as to the effects the
law in question had upon the Gipsies, unless we know how
it was carried out. The law of the Empress Maria Theresa
produced no effect upon the Gipsies in Hungary. “In Hungary,”
says Mr. Borrow, “two classes are free to do what
they please—the nobility and the Gipsies—the one above
the law, the other below it.” And what did Mr. Borrow
find the Gipsies in Hungary? In England, the last instances
of condemnation, under the old sanguinary laws, happened
a few years before the Restoration, although these were not
repealed till 23d Geo. III., c. 54. The Gipsies in England
can follow any employment, common to the ordinary natives,
they please: and how has Mr. Borrow described them
there? In Scotland, the tribe have been allowed to do
nothing, not even acknowledge their existence, as Gipsies:
and this work describes what they are in that country.
Instead of the law of Charles III. exercising any great
beneficial influence over the character of the Spanish Gipsies,
I would attribute the change in question to what Mr.
Borrow himself says: “It must be remembered that during
the last seventy years, a revolution has been progressing in
Spain, slowly it is true; and such a revolution may have
affected the Gitanos.” The Spanish Gipsy proverb, “Money
is to be found in the town, not in the country,” has had its influence
on bringing the race to settle in towns. And by residing
in towns, and not being persecuted, they have, in Mr. Borrow’s
own words, “insensibly become more civilized than their
ancestors, and their habits and manners less ferocious.” The
only good which the law of Charles III. seems to have done
to the Spanish Gipsies was, as already said, to permit them
to follow any occupation, and be admitted to any guilds, or
communities, (barring the capital, and royal residences,) they
pleased; but only on the condition, and that on the pain of
death, that they renounced every imaginable thing connected
with their tribe; which, we may reasonably assume, no
Gipsy submitted to, however much in appearance he might
have done so.
But it is doubtful if the law of Charles III. was anything
but the one which it was customary for every Spanish monarch
to issue against the tribe. Mr. Borrow says: “Perhaps
there is no country in which more laws have been
framed, having in view the suppression and extinction of
the Gipsy 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
and checking the robberies, frauds, and other enormities
of the Gitanos, with which the whole country seems to have
resounded since the time of their first appearance.” The
fact of so many laws being passed against the Gipsies, is, to
my mind, ample proof, as I shall afterwards explain, that
few, if any, of them were put, to any extent, in force; and
that the act in question, viewed in itself, as distinct from the
laws previously in existence, was little more than a form. It
contains a flourish of liberality, implied in the Gitanos being
allowed to enter, if they pleased, any guilds, (which they
were not likely to do,) or communities, (where they were
doubtless already;) but it debars, (that is, expels,) them from
the king’s presence, at the capital or any of the royal residences.
Moreover, it allowed the Gitano to be “admitted to
whatever office or employment to which he might apply himself,”
(against which, there probably was, or should have
been, no law in existence.) His majesty must also impose
his pragmatical conceit upon his loyal subjects, by telling
them, that “Gitanos are not Gitanos”—that they “do not
proceed from any infected root;” and threaten them, that if
they maintain the contrary, and call them Gitanos, he will
have them punished for slander!
The Gipsies, after a residence of 350 years in the country,
would have comparatively little notice taken of them,
under this law, except when they made themselves really
obnoxious, or gave an official an occasion to display his
authority, or his zeal for the public service.[272] Whatever may
have been the treatment which the Gipsies experienced at
the hands of the civil authorities, the church does not seem
to have disturbed, and far less distressed, them. Mr. Borrow
represents a priest of Cordova, formerly an Inquisitor,
saying to him: “I am not aware of one case of a Gitano
having been tried or punished by the Inquisition. 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 to the Church of Rome,
could proceed from the Gitanos, 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 Gitano having, at all times,
been Gente barrata y despreciable.”
Should the Spanish Gipsies not now assist each other, to
the extent they did when banditti, under the special proscription
of the Government, it would be absurd to say that
they were therefore not as much Gipsies as ever they were.
The change in this respect arose, to some extent, from the
toleration extended to them, as a people and as individuals,
whether by the law, or society in general. Such Gipsies
as Mr. Borrow seems to have associated with, in Spain,
were not likely to be very reliable authority on the questions
at issue; for he has described them as “being endowed
with a kind of instinct, (in lieu of reason,) which assists them
to a very limited extent, and no further.”
Might it not be in Spain as in Great Britain? Even in
England, those that pass for Gipsies are few in number,
compared to the mixed Gipsies, following various occupations;
for a large part of the Gipsy blood in England has,
as it were, been spread over a large surface of the white. In
Scotland it is almost altogether so. There seems considerable
reason for believing that Gipsydom is, perhaps, as much
mixed in Spain as in Great Britain, although Mr. Borrow
has taken no notice of it. We have seen, (page 92.) how
severe an enactment was passed by Queen Elizabeth, against
“any person, whether natural born or stranger, to be seen
in the fellowship of the Gipsies, or disguised like them.” In
the law of Ferdinand and Isabella, the first passed against
the Gipsies, in Spain, a class of people is mentioned, in conjunction
with them, but distinguished from them, by the
name of “foreign tinkers.” Philip III., at Belan, in Portugal,
in 1619, commands all Gipsies to quit the kingdom
within six months. “Those who should wish to remain are
to establish themselves in cities, and are not to be allowed
to use the dress, name, and language, in order, that forasmuch
as they are not such by nation,(!) this name, and manner
of life, may be for evermore confounded and forgotten(!)”
Philip IV., on the 8th May, 1633, declares “that they are
not Gipsies by origin or nature, but have adopted this form
of life(!)” This idea of “Gitanos not being Gitanos, and
not proceeding from any infected root,” was not original
with Charles III., in 1783; his proclamation having been in
formal keeping with previous ones, whether of his own
country, or, as in Scotland, in 1603, “recommended by the
example of some other realm,” (page 111.) There had evidently
been a great curiosity to know who some of the “not
Gipsies by origin and nature,” (evidently judging from their
appearance,) could be; for Philip IV. enacts, “that they
shall, within two months, leave the quarters where now they
live with the denomination of Gitanos, and that they shall
separate from each other, and mingle with the other inhabitants:
that the ministers of justice are to observe, with particular
diligence, whether they hold communication with each
other, or marry among themselves.”
The “foreign tinkers” mentioned in the Act of Ferdinand
and Isabella, and the individuals distinguished from
the Gipsies in that of Queen Elizabeth, were doubtless mixed
Gipsies; whose relationship with the Gipsies proper, and
isolation from the common natives, are very distinctly pointed
out in the above extract from the law of Philip IV. Mr.
Borrow expresses a great difficulty to understand who these
people could be, if not Gipsies. How easy it is to get quit
of the difficulty, by concluding that they were Gipsies whose
blood, perhaps for the most part, was native; and who had
been brought into the body in the manner explained in the
Preface to this work, and more fully illustrated in this Disquisition.
If Mr. Borrow found in Spain a half-pay captain,
in the service of Donna Isabel, with flaxen hair, a thorough
Gipsy, who spoke Gipsy and Latin, with great fluency, and
his cousin, Jara, in all probability another Gipsy, what difficulty
can there be in believing, that the “foreign tinkers,”
or tinkers of any kind, now to be met with in Spain, are,
like the same class in Great Britain and Ireland, Gipsies of
mixed blood? Indeed, the young Spaniard, to whom I have
alluded, informs me that the Gipsies in Spain are very much
mixed. Mr. Borrow himself admits that the Gipsy blood in
Spain has been mixed; for, in speaking of the old Gipsy
counts, he says: “It was the counts who determined what individuals
were to be admitted into the fellowship and privileges
of the Gitanos. . . . . They (the Gipsies) were
not to teach the language to any but those who, by birth or
inauguration, belonged to that sect.” And he gives a
case in point, in the bookseller of Logrono, who was married
to the only daughter of a Gitano count; upon whose
death, the daughter and son-in-law succeeded to the authority
which he had exercised in the tribe. If the Gipsies in
Spain were not mixed in point of blood, why should they
have taken Mr. Borrow for a Gipsy, as he said they did?
The persecutions to which the race in Spain were subjected
were calculated to lead to a mixture of the blood, as in
Scotland, for the reasons given in the Preface; but, perhaps,
not to the same extent; as the Spanish Acts seem to have
given the tribe an opportunity of escape, under the condition
of settling, &c., &c., which would probably be complied
with, nominally, for the time being; while the face of part
of the country would afford a refuge till the storm had
blown over. (See pages 71 and 114.)
It is very likely that the following people, described by
Paget, in his travels in Central Europe, are mixed Gipsies.
He says: “In almost every part of the Austrian dominions
are to be found a kind of wandering tinkers, wire-workers,
and menders of crockery, whose language appears to be
that of the Sclaves, who travel about, and, at certain seasons,
return to their own settlements, where the women and
children remain during their absence.” The wandering
Rothwelsh, perhaps the same mentioned by Paget, may be
mixed Gipsies. In the Encyclopædia Britannica they are
spoken of as “a vagabond people, in the south of Germany,
who have sometimes been confounded with the Gipsies.”
The appearance of such persons has nothing to do with
their being, or not being, members of Gipsydom.[273]
I will now consider the present condition of the Scottish
Gipsies. But, to commence with, what is the native capacity
of a Gipsy? It is good. Take a common tinkering Gipsy,
without a particle of education, and compare him with a
common native, without a particle of education, and the tinker,
in point of smartness, is worth, perhaps, a dozen of the
other. If not a learned, he is at least a travelled, Athenian,
considerably rubbed up by his intercourse with the world.
This is the proper way by which to judge of the capacity
of a Gipsy. It will differ somewhat according to the countries
and circumstances in which he is found. Grellmann,
about the year 1780, says, of evidently the more original
kind of Hungarian Gipsies: “Imagine a people of childish
thoughts, whose minds are filled with raw, undigested conceptions,
guided more by sense than reason, and using understanding
and reflection only so far as they promote the
gratification of any particular appetite; and you have a
perfect sketch of the general character of the Gipsies.”
“They are lively, uncommonly loquacious, fickle to an extreme;
consequently, inconstant in their pursuits.” Bischoff,
in speaking of the German Gipsies, in 1827, says: “They
have a good understanding, an excellent memory, are quick
of comprehension, lively and talkative.” Mr. Borrow, in
evident allusion to the very lowest, and most ignorant, class
of the Spanish Gipsies, says: “They seem to hunt for their
bread, 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 further.” I admit that this class of Gipsies
may have as little intellect as there is in an ant-catcher’s
nose, but the remark can apply to them exclusively.
Without taking into account any opinion expressed by
other writers on the Gipsies, Mr. Borrow says: “Should it
be urged that certain individuals have found them very different
from what they are represented in these volumes,
(‘The Gipsies in Spain,’) he would frankly say that he
yields no credit to the presumed fact.” And he refers his
readers to his Spanish-Gipsy vocabulary for the words hoax
and hocus, as a reason for such an opinion! He himself
gives descriptions of quite a different caste. For example,
he speaks of a rich Gipsy appearing in a fair, at Leon, in
Spain, with a twenty thousand dollar credit in his pocket.
And of another Gipsy, a native of Constantinople, who had
visited the most remote and remarkable portions of the world,
“passing over it like a cloud;” and who spoke several dialects
of the Malay, and understood the original language of
Java. This Gipsy, he says, dealt in precious stones and
poisons; and that there is scarcely a bey or satrap in Persia,
or Turkey, whom he has not supplied with both. In Moscow,
he says, “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.” From these specimens, one might
naturally conclude that there was some room for discrimination
among different classes of Gipsies, instead of rating
them as having the intellect of ant-catchers.
When the Gipsies appeared in Scotland, the natives themselves,
as I have already said, were nearly wholly uneducated.
Many of the Gipsies, then, and long afterwards,
being smart, presumptuous, overbearing, audacious fellows,
seem to have assumed great importance, and been looked
upon as no small people by the authorities and the inhabitants
of the country. In every country in which they have
settled, they seem to have instinctively and very readily
appreciated the ways and spirit of the people, while, at the
same time, they preserved what belonged particularly to
themselves—their Gipsyism. Gipsydom being, in its very
essence, a “working in among other people,” “a people
within a people,” it followed, that marriages between adopted
Gipsies, and even Gipsies themselves, and the ordinary natives,
would be encouraged, were it only to contribute to
their existence in the country. The issue of such marriages,
go where they might, would become centres of little Gipsy
circles, which, in their turn, would throw off members that
would become the centres of other little Gipsy circles; the
leaven of Gipsydom leavening into a lump everything that
proceeded out of itself. To such an extent has this been
followed, that, at the present day, the Scottish Gipsies—at
least the generality of them—have every outward characteristic
of Scotchmen. But the secret of being Gipsies,
which they carry in their bosoms, makes them appear a little
queer to others; they have a something about them that
makes them look somewhat odd to the other Scotchman, who
is not “one of them,” although he does not know the cause
of it.
Upon, or shortly after, their arrival, they seem to have
divided the country among themselves; each tribe exercising
its rights over its own territory, to the exclusion of
others, just as a native lord would have done against other
natives; with a system of passes, regulated by councils of
local or provincial chieftains, and a king, over all. The
Scottish Gipsies, from the very first, seem to have been
thoroughly versed in their vocation, from having had about
a hundred years’ experience, in some other part of Europe,
before they settled in Scotland; although stragglers of their
race evidently had made their appearance in the country
many years before. What might have been the number of
Gipsies then in Scotland, it is impossible to conjecture; it
must have been considerable, if we judge from what is said
in Wraxall’s History of France, vol. 2, page 32, when, in
reference to the Act of Queen Elizabeth, in 1563, he states,
that, in her reign, the Gipsies throughout England were supposed
to exceed ten thousand. The employments of the
original Gipsies, within their respective districts, seem to
have been what is described under the head of Tweed-dale
and Clydesdale Gipsies; that is, tinkering, making spoons
and other wares, petty trading, telling fortunes, living as
much as possible at free-quarters, dealing in horses, and
visiting fairs. It is extremely likely that those who travelled
Tweed-dale, for example, always averaged about the
same number, down to the time of the American Revolution,
(except in times of civil commotion, when they would have
the country pretty much to themselves,) and were confined
to such of the families of the respective tribes, or the members
of these families, in whom the right was hereditary.
The consequence seems to have been, that perhaps the
younger members of the family had to betake themselves to
towns and villages, and engage in whatever they could possibly
turn their hands to. Some would, of course, take to
the highway, and kindred fields of industry. Admitting
that the circumstances attending the Gipsies in Scotland, at
that time, and subsequently, were the same, as regards the
manner of making a living, which attend those in England,
at the present day, (with this difference, that they could
more easily roam at large then than now,) and we can have
no difficulty in coming to a conclusion how the surplus of
the tented Gipsy population was disposed of. Among the
English Gipsies of to-day, taking year with year, and tent
with tent, there is, yearly, a continual moving out of the tent;
a kind of Gipsy crop is annually gathered from tented Gipsydom;
and some of these gradually find themselves drawn
into almost every kind of mechanical or manual labour, even
to working in coal-mines and iron-works; others become
peddlers, itinerant auctioneers, and tramps of almost every
imaginable kind; not to speak of those who visit fairs, in
various capacities, or engage in various settled traffic.
Put a Gipsy to any occupation you like, and he shows a
capability and handiness that is astonishing, if he can only
muster up steadiness in his new vocation. But it is difficult
to break him off the tent; he will return, and lounge, for
weeks together, about that of his father, or some other relative.
But get him fairly out of the tent, married, and, in a
degree, settled to some occupation, in a town where there
are not too many of his own race in close proximity to him,
but where he gets mixed up, in his daily avocation, with the
common natives, and he sooner or later falls into the ranks.
Still, his intimate associations are always with Gipsies; for
his ardent attachment to his people, and a corresponding
resentment of the prejudice that exists against it, keep him
aloof from any intimate intercourse with the ordinary inhabitants;
his associations with them hardly ever extending
beyond the commons or the public-house. If he experiences
an attack from his old habits, he will take to the tramp, from
town to town, working at his mechanical occupation; leaving
his wife and children at home. But it is not long before
he returns. His children, having been born and reared in a
town, become habituated to a settled life, like other people.
There is a vast amount of ambition about every Gipsy,
which is displayed, among the humble classes, in all kinds
of athletic exercises.[274] The same peculiarity is discernible
among the educated Scottish Gipsies. Carrying about with
them the secret of being Gipsies, which they assume would
be a terrible imputation cast upon them by the ordinary natives,
if they knew of it, they, as it were, fly up, like game-cocks,
and show a disposition to surpass the others in one
way or other; particularly as they consider themselves better
than the common inhabitants. They must always be
“cock of the company,” master of ceremonies, or stand at
the top of the tree, if possible. The reader may ask, how
do they consider themselves better than the ordinary natives?
And I answer, that, from having been so long in Scotland,
they are Scotchmen, (as indeed they are, for the most part, in
point of blood,) and consider themselves as good as the
others—nay, smarter than others in the same sphere, which,
generally speaking, they are; and, in addition to that, being
Gipsies, a great deal better. They pique themselves on
their descent, and on being in possession of secrets which
are peculiarly and exclusively theirs, and which they imagine
no other knows, or will ever know. They feel that
they are part and parcel of those mysterious beings who are
an enigma to others, no less than to themselves. Besides
this vanity, which is peculiar to the Gipsy everywhere, the
Scottish Gipsies have chimed in with all the native Scotch
ideas of clanism, kith, kin, and consequence, as regards
family, descent, and so forth; and applied them so peculiarly
to themselves, as to render their opinion of their body
as something of no small importance. Some of them,
whose descent leads them more directly back to the tented
stock, speak of their families having possessed this district
or the other district of the country, as much, almost, as we
would expect to hear from some native Scottish chieftain.
As regards the various phases of history through which
many of the Scottish Gipsies have passed, we can only form
an estimate from what has been observed in recent times.
The further back, however, we go, the greater were their
facilities to rise to a position in society; for this reason,
that a very little education, joined to good natural talents,
were all that was necessary, in a mixed Gipsy, to raise
himself in the world, at the time to which I allude. He
could leave the district in which, when a youth, he had
travelled, with his parents; settle in a town where he
was not personally known; commence some traffic, and,
by his industry, gradually raise himself up, and acquire
wealth. He would not lack a proper degree of innate manners,
or personal dignity, to deport himself with propriety
in any ordinary company into which he might enter. Even
at the present day, in Scotland, a poor Gipsy will commence
life with a wheelbarrow, then get a donkey-cart, and, in a
few years, have a very respectable crockery-shop. I am intimate
with an English mixed Gipsy family, the father of
which commenced life as a basket-maker, was afterwards a
constable, and now occasionally travels with the tent. His
son is an M. D., for I have seen his diploma; and is a smart,
intelligent fellow, and quite an adept at chemistry. To
illustrate the change that has taken place among some of the
Scottish Gipsies, within the last fifty years, I may mention
that the grand-children of a prominent Gipsy, mentioned in
chapter V., follow, at the present day, the medical, the legal,
and the mercantile professions. Such occurrences have been
frequent in Scotland. There are the cases mentioned by our
author; such as one of the Faas rising to such eminence in
the mercantile world, at Dunbar; and another who rose to
the rank of lieutenant in the East India Company’s service;
and the Baillie family, which furnished a captain and a
quarter-master to the army, and a country surgeon. These
are but instances of many others, if they were but known.
Some may object, that these were not full-blood Gipsies.
That, I readily admit. But the objection is more nominal
than real. ‘If a white were to proceed to the interior of
the American continent, and cast his lot with a tribe of
Indians, his children would, of course, be expected to be
superior, in some respects, to the children of the native
blood exclusively, owing to what the father might be supposed
to teach them. But it is different in the case of a
white marrying a Scottish Gipsy woman, born and reared in
the same community with himself; for the white, in general
cases, brings only his blood, which enables the children, if
they take after himself, in appearance, to enter such places
as the black Gipsies would not enter, or might not be
allowed to enter. The white father, in such a case, might
not even be so intelligent as the Gipsy mother. Be that as
it may, the individuals to whom I have alluded were nothing
but Gipsies; possibly they did not know when, or through
whom, the white blood was introduced among them; they
knew, at least, that they were Gipsies, and that the links
which connected them with the past were substantially
Gipsy links. Besides the Scottish Gipsies rising to respectable
positions in life, by their own exertions, I can well believe
that Gipsydom has been well brought up through the
female line; especially at a time when females, and particularly
country females, were rude and all but uneducated.
Who more capable of doing that than the lady Baillies, of
Tweed-dale, and the lady Wilsons, of Stirlingshire? Such
Gipsy girls could “turn natives round their little fingers”
and act, in a way, the lady at once; “turn over a new leaf,”
and “pin it down;” and conduct themselves with great
propriety.
Upon a superior Scottish Gipsy settling in a town, and
especially a small town, and wishing to appear respectable,
he would naturally take a pew in the church, and attend
public worship, were it only, as our author asserts, to hide
the fact of his being a Gipsy. Because, among the Scotch,
there is that prying inquisitiveness into their neighbours’
affairs, that compels a person to be very circumspect, in all
his actions, movements, and expressions, if he wishes to be
thought anything of, at all. The habit of attending church
would then become as regular, in the Gipsy’s family, as in
the families of the ordinary natives, and, in a great measure,
proceed from as legitimate a motive. The family would be
very polite, indeed, extra polite, to their neighbours. After
they had lulled to sleep every suspicion of what they were,
or, by their really good conduct, had, according to the
popular idea, “ceased to be Gipsies,” they would naturally
encourage a formal acquaintance with respectable (and
nothing but respectable,) people in the place. The Gipsy
himself, a really good fellow at heart, honourable in his
dealings, but fond of a bargain, when he could drive a bargain,
and, moreover, a jovial fellow, would naturally make
plenty of business and out-door friends, at least. Rising in
circumstances and the public esteem, he makes up his mind
that his children ought to be something better than himself,
at all events; in short, that they ought not to be behind
those of his respectable neighbours. Some of them he,
therefore, educates for a liberal profession. The Gipsy
himself becomes more and more ambitious: besides attending
church, he must become an elder of the church; or it
may be that the grace of God takes hold of him, and brings
him into the fold. He and his wife conduct themselves
with much propriety; but some of the boys are rather wild;
the girls, however, behave well. Altogether, the whole
family is very much thought of. Such is a Scottish Gipsy
family, (the parents of which are now dead,) that I have in
my mind at the present moment. No suspicion existed in
regard to the father, but there was a breath of suspicion in
regard to the mother. But what difference did that make?
What knowledge had the public of the nature of Gipsydom?
Consider, then, that the process which I have attempted
to describe has been going on, more or less, for at least the
last three hundred and fifty years; and I may well ask,
where might we not expect to meet with Gipsies, in Scotland,
at the present day? And I reply, that we will meet with
them in every sphere of Scottish life, not excepting, perhaps,
the very highest. There are Gipsies among the very best
Edinburgh families. I am well acquainted with Scotchmen,
youths and men of middle age, of education and character,
and who follow very respectable occupations, that are
Gipsies, and who admit that they are Gipsies. But, apart
from my own knowledge, I ask, is it not a fact, that, a few
years ago, a pillar of the Scottish church, at Edinburgh,
upon the occasion of founding a society for the reformation
of the poor class of Scottish Gipsies, and frequently thereafter,
said that he himself was a Gipsy? I ask, again, is not
that a fact? It is a fact. And such a man! Such prayers!
Such deep-toned, sonorous piety! Such candour! Such
judgment! Such amiability of manners! How much respected!
How worthy of respect! The good, the godly,
the saintly doctor! When will we meet his like again?[275]
This leads me to speak of a high-class Scottish Gipsy
family—the Falls, who settled at Dunbar, as merchants, alluded
to under the chapter on Border Gipsies.[276] Who can
doubt that they were Gipsies to the last? How could they
avoid being Gipsies? The Gipsies were their people; their
blood was Gipsy blood. How could they get rid of their
blood and descent? Could they throw either off, as they
would an old coat? Could medical science rid them of
either? Assuredly not. They admitted their descent, over
their cups. But being descendants of Gipsies, and yet not
Gipsies, is a contradiction in terms. The principles which
regulate the descent of other Gipsy families applied equally
to theirs. The fact that Mrs. Fall had the history of her
people, in the act of leaving Yetholm, represented in tapestry,
may be taken as but a straw that indicated how the
wind blew. Was not old Will Faa, the Gipsy king, down
to his death, at the end of the first American war, admitted
to their hospitality as a relative? And do not the Scottish
Gipsies, at the present day, claim them to have been Gipsies?
Why might not the Falls glory in being Egyptians
among themselves, but not to others? Were not their ancestors
kings? “Wee kings,” no doubt, but still kings;
one of them being the “loved John Faw,” of James V., whom
all the tribe consider as a great man, (which, doubtless, he
was, in that barbarous age,) and the principal of the thirteen
patriarchs of Scottish Gipsydom. Was not a Gipsy king,
(themselves being Gipsies,) an ancestor of far more respect,
in their eyes, than the founder of a native family, in their
neighbourhood; who, in the reign of Charles II., was a common
country snip, and most likely commenced life with
“whipping the cat” around the country, for fivepence a
day, and victuals and clippings?[277]
The truth of the matter is, these Falls must have considered
themselves a world better than other people, merely
on account of their being Gipsies, as all Gipsies do, arising,
in part, from that antagonistic spirit of opposition which the
prejudice of their fellow-creatures is so much calculated to
stir up in their minds. Saying, over their cups, that they
were descended from the Faws, the historical Gipsy name
in Scotland, did not divulge very much to the public. For
what idea had the public of the working of Gipsydom—what
idea of the Gipsy language? Did the public know of
the existence of a Gipsy language in Scotland? In all probability,
it generally did not. If the public heard a Tinkler
use a strange word, all that it would think of it would be,
that it was cant, confined to vagabonds strolling the country.
Would it ever dream that what the vagabonds used
was carefully preserved and spoken among the great
Falls, of Dunbar, within the sanctity of their own dwellings,
as it assuredly must have been? Would the public believe
in such a thing, if even its own ears were made the witnesses
to it? Was the love which the Falls had for their Yetholm
connexion confined to a mere group of their ancestors
worked in tapestry? Where was the Gipsy language, during
all this time? Assuredly it was well preserved in their
family. If it showed the least symptoms of falling off, how
easily could the mothers bring into the family, as servants,
other Gipsies, who would teach it to the children! For, besides
the dazzling hold which the Gipsy language takes of
the mind of a Gipsy, as the language of those black, mysterious
heroes from whom he is descended, the keeping of it
up forms the foundation of that self-respect which a Gipsy
has for himself, amidst the prejudice of the world; from
which, at the bottom of his heart, whatever his position in
life, or character, or associations, may be, he considers himself
separated. I am decidedly of opinion that all the domestics
about this Fall family were Gipsies of one caste,
colour, condition, or what not.
Then, we are told that Miss Fall, who married Sir John
Anstruther, of Elie, baronet, was looked down upon by her
husband’s friends, and received no other name than Jenny
Faa; and that she was indirectly twitted with being a
Gipsy, by the rabble, while attending an election in which
Sir John was a candidate. What real satisfaction could Jenny,
or any other Gipsy, have for ordinary natives of the country,
when she was conscious of being what she was, and how
she was spoken of, by her husband’s relatives and the public
generally? She would take comfort in telling her “wonderful
story” to her children, (for I presume she would have
children,) who would sympathize with her; and in conversing
with such of her own race as were near her, were it
only her trusty domestics. It is the Gipsy woman who feels
the prejudice that exists towards her race the most acutely;
for she has the rearing of the children, and broods more
over the history of her people. As the needle turns to the
pole, so does the mind of the Gipsy woman to Gipsydom.
We are likewise told that this eminent Gipsy family were
connected, by marriage, with the Footies, of Balgonie; the
Coutts, afterwards bankers; Collector Whyte, of Kirkaldy,
and Collector Melville, of Dunbar. We may assume, as a
mathematical certainty, that Gipsydom, in a refined form, is
in existence in the descendants of these families, particularly
in such of them as were connected with this Gipsy
family by the female side.[278]
A person who has never considered this subject, or any
other cognate to it, may imagine that a Gipsy reproaches
himself with his own blood. Pshaw! Where will you
find a man, or a tribe of men, under the heavens, that will
do that? It is not in human nature to do it. All men
venerate their ancestors, whoever they have been. A Gipsy
is, to an extraordinary degree, proud of his blood. “I have
very little of the blood, myself,” said one of them, “but just
come and see my wife!” But people may say that the ancestors
of the Falls were thieves. And were not all the
Borderers, in their way, the worst kind of thieves? They
might not have stolen from their nearest relatives; but, with
that exception, did they not steal from each other? Now,
Gipsies never, or hardly ever, steal from each other. Were
not all the Elliots and Armstrongs thieves of the first
water? Were not the Scotts and the Kers thieves, long
after the Gipsies entered Scotland? When the servants of
Scott of Harden drove out his last cow, and said, “There goes
Harden’s cow,” did not the old cow-stealer say, “It will soon
be Harden’s kye“—meaning, that he would set out on a cow-stealing
expedition? In fact, he lived upon spoil. Was it
not his lady’s custom, on the last bullock being killed, to
place on the table a dish, which, on being uncovered, was
found to contain a pair of clean spurs—a hint, to her husband
and his followers, that they must shift for their next
meal? The descendants of these Scotts, and the Scottish
public generally, look, with the utmost complacency and
pride, upon the history of such families; yet would be very
apt to make a great ado, if the ancestress of a Gipsy should,
in such a predicament, have hung out a cock’s tail at the
mouth of her tent, as a hint to her “laddies” to look after
poultry. Common sense tells us, that, for one excuse to be
offered for such conduct, on the part of the landed-gentry
of the country, a hundred can be found for the ancestor of a
Gipsy—an unfortunate wanderer on the face of the earth,
who was hunted about, like a wolf of the forest.[279]
And what shall we say of our Highland thieves? Highlanders
may be more touchy on this point, for their ancestors
were the last of the British race to give up that kind of
life. Talk of the laws passed against the Gipsies! Various
of our Scottish monarchs issued decrees against “the
wicked thieves and limmers of the clans and surnames, inhabiting
the Highlands and Isles,” accusing “the chieftains
principal of the branches worthy to be esteemed the very
authors, fosterers, and maintainers, of the wicked deeds of
the vagabonds of their clans and surnames.” Indeed, the
doweries of the chiefs’ daughters were made up by a share
of the booty collected on their expeditions. The Highlands
were, at one time, little better than a nest of thieves;
thieving from each other, and more particularly from their
southern neighbours. It is notorious that robbery, in the
Highlands, was “held to be a calling not merely innocent,
but honourable;” and that a high-born Highland warrior
was “much more becomingly employed, in plundering the
lands of others, than in tilling his own.” At stated times of
the year, such as at Candlemas, regular bands of Highlanders,
the sons of gentlemen and what not, proceeded south
in quest of booty, as part of their winter’s provisions. The
Highlanders might even have been compared, at one time, to
as many tribes of Afghans. Mr. Skene, the historian of the
Highlands, and himself a Highlander, says that the Highlanders
believed that they had a right to plunder the people
of the low country, whenever it was in their power. We
naturally ask, how did the Highlanders acquire this right of
plunder? Were they ever proscribed? Were any of them
hung, merely for being Highlanders? No. What plea,
then, did the Highlanders set up, in justification of this
wholesale robbery?—“They believed, from tradition, that
the Lowlands, in old times, were the possessions of their ancestors.”
(Skene.) But that was no excuse for their plundering
each other.[280]
The Gipsy’s ordinary pilfering was confined to such petty
things as “hens and peats at pleasure,” “cutting a bit lamb’s
throat,” and “a mouthfu’ o’ grass and a pickle corn, for the
cuddy”—“things that a farmer body ne’er could miss.” But
your Highlanders did not content themselves with such
“needles and pins;” they must have “horned cattle.” If
the coast was clear, they would table their drawn dirks,
and commence their spulzie, by making their victims furnish
them with what was necessary to fill their bellies; upon the
strength of which, they would “lift” whatever they could
carry and drive, or take its equivalent in black-mail.
What an effort is made by our McGregors, at the present
day, to scrape up kin with this or the other bandit McGregor;
and yet how apt the McGregor is to turn up his
nose—just as Punch, only, could make him turn it up—if a
Gipsy were to step out, and say, that he was a descendant,
and could speak the language, of Will Baillie, mentioned
under the head of Tweed-dale and Clydesdale Gipsies: a
Gipsy, described by my ancestor, (and he could judge,) to
have been “the handsomest, the best dressed, the best looking,
and the best bred, man he ever saw; and the best
swordsman in Scotland, for, with his weapon in his hand,
and his back at a wall, he could set almost everything, saving
fire-arms, at defiance; a man who could act the gentleman,
the robber, the sorner, and the tinker, whenever it
answered his purpose.”[281] And yet, some of this man’s descendants
will doubtless be found among our medical doctors,
and even the clergy. I recollect our author pointing
out a clergyman of the Scottish Church, who, he was pretty
sure, was “one of them.” What name could have stood
lower, at one time, than McGregor? Both by legal and
social proscription, it was looked upon as vagabond; and
doubtless the clan brought it, primarily and principally, upon
themselves; but as for the rapine they practised upon their
neighbours, and the helpless southerners, they were, at first,
no worse, in that respect, than others of their nation. Are
the McGregors sure that there are no Gipsies among them?
There are plenty of Gipsies of, at least, the name of McGregor,
known to both the Scottish and English Gipsies.
What more likely than some of the McGregors, when “out,”
and leading their vagabond lives, getting mixed up with the
better kind of mixed Gipsies? They were both leading a
wild life, and it is not unlikely that some of the McGregors,
of even no small consequence, might have been led captive
by such Gipsy girls as the lady Baillies, of Tweed-dale. Let
a Gipsy once be grafted upon a native family, and she rises
with it; leavens the little circle of which she is the centre,
and leaves it, and its descendants, for all time coming,
Gipsies.
I now come to ask, what constitutes a Gipsy at the present
day? And common sense replies: the simple fact of knowing
from whom he is descended, that is, who he is, in connection
with having the Gipsy words and signs, although
these are not absolutely necessary. It requires no argument
to show that there is no tribe or nation but finds something
that leads it to cling to its origin and descent, and not despise
the blood that runs in its own veins, although it may
despise the condition or conduct of some of its members.
Where shall we find an exception to this rule? The Gipsy
race is no exception to it. Civilize a Gipsy, and you make
him a civilized Gipsy; educate him, and you make him an
educated Gipsy; bring him up to any profession you like,
Christianize him as much as you may, and he still remains a
Gipsy; because he is of the Gipsy race, and all the influences
of nature and revelation do not affect the questions
of blood, tribe, and nationality. Take all the Gipsies that
ever came out of the tent, or their descendants, including
those brought into the body through the male and female
line; and what are they now? Still Gipsies. They even
pass into the other world Gipsies. “But they will forget
that they are Gipsies,” say, perhaps, some of my readers.
Forget that they are Gipsies! Will we hear, some of these
days, that Scotch people, themselves, will get up of a morning,
toss about their night-caps, and forget that they are
Scotch? We may then see the same happen with the Gipsies.
What I have said, of the Gipsy always being a Gipsy,
is self-evident; but it has a wide difference of meaning
from that contained in the quotation given by Mr. Borrow,
in which it is said: “For that which is unclean by nature
thou canst entertain no hope; no washing will turn the
Gipsy white.”[282] But, taking the world all over, there will
doubtless be Gipsies, in larger or smaller numbers, who will
always be found following the original ways of their race.
What were the Hungarians, at one time, and what are
they now? Pritchard says of them: “The Hungarians
laid aside the habits of rude and savage hunters, far below
the condition of the nomadic hordes, for the manners of
civilized life. In the course of a thousand years, they have
become a handsome people, of fine stature, regular European
features, and have the complexion prevalent in that tract of
Europe where they dwell.” Now the Gipsies have been in
Scotland at least three hundred and fifty years; and what
with the mixture of native blood, (which, at least, helped to
remove the prejudice against the man’s appearance, and, consequently,
gave him a larger and freer scope of action;) the
hard laws of necessity, and the being tossed about by society,
like pebbles on the seashore; the influences of civilization,
education, and the grace of God itself; by such means as
these, some of the Scottish Gipsies have risen to a respectable,
even eminent, position in life. But some people may
say: “These are not Gipsies; they have little of the blood
in them.” That is nothing. Ask themselves what they are,
and, if they are at all candid, they will reply that they are
Gipsies. “No doubt,” they say, “we have fair, or red, or
black, hair, (as the case may be;) we know nothing about
that; but we know that we are Gipsies; that is all.” There
is as much difference between such a high-class Gipsy and a
poor Gipsian, as there is between a Scottish judge and the
judge’s fourth cousin, who makes his living by clipping dogs’
ears. The principle of progression, the passing through one
phase of history into another, while the race maintains its
identity, holds good with the Gipsies, as well as with any
other people.
Take a Gipsy in his original state, and we can find nothing
really vulgar about him. What is popularly understood
to be Gipsy life may be considered low life, by people who
do not overmuch discriminate in such matters; but view it
after its kind, and it is not really low; for a Gipsy is naturally
polite and well mannered. He does not consider himself
as belonging to the same race as the native, and would
rather be judged by a different standard. The life which
he leads is not that of the lowest class of the country in
which he dwells, but the primitive, original state of a people
of great antiquity, proscribed by law and society; himself
an enemy of, and an enemy to, all around him; with the
population so prejudiced against him, that attempts to change
his condition, consistently with his feelings as a man, are
frequently rendered in vain: so that, on the ground of
strict morals, or even administrative justice, the man can be
said to be only half responsible. The subject, however,
assumes quite a different aspect, when we consider a Gipsy
of education and refinement, like the worthy clergyman
mentioned, between whose condition and that of his tented
ancestor an interval of, perhaps, two or three centuries has
elapsed. We should then put him on the footing of any
other race having a barbarous origin, and entertain no prejudice
against him on account of the race to which he belongs.
He is then to be judged as we judge Highland and
Border Scots, for the whole three were at one time robbers;
and all the three having welled up to respectable life together,
they ought to be judged on their merits, individually,
as men, and treated accordingly. And the Gipsy ought to
be the most leniently dealt with, on the principle that the
actions of his ancestors were far more excusable, and even
less heinous, than those of the others. And as regards antiquity
of descent, the Gipsy’s infinitely surpasses the others,
being probably no less than the shepherd kings, part of
whose blood left Egypt, in the train of the Jews. I would
place such a Gipsy on the footing of the Hungarian race;
with this difference, that the Hungarians entered Europe in
the ninth century, and became a people, occupying a territory;
while the Gipsies appeared in the fifteenth century,
and are now to be found, civilized and uncivilized, in almost
every corner of the known world.
The admission of the good man alluded to casts a flood
of light upon the history of the Scottish Gipsy race,
shrouded as it is from the eye of the general population;
but the information given by him was apt to fall flat upon
the ear of the ordinary native, unless it was accompanied by
some such exposition of the subject as is given in this work.
Still, we can gather from it, where Gipsies are to be found,
what a Scottish Gipsy is, and what the race is capable of;
and what might be expected of it, if the prejudice of their
fellow-creatures was withdrawn from the race, as distinguished
from the various classes into which it may be divided,
or, I should rather say, the personal conduct of each Gipsy
individually. View the subject any way I may, I cannot
resist coming to the conclusion that, under more favourable
circumstances, it is difficult to say what the Gipsies
might not attain to. But that would depend greatly upon
the country in which they are to be found. Scotland has
been peculiarly favourable for them, in some respects.
As regards the Scottish Gipsy population, at the present
day, I can only adopt the language of the immortal Dominie
Sampson, and say, that it must be “prodigious.” If we consider
the number that appear to have settled in Scotland,
the length of time they have been in Scotland, the great
amount of white blood that has, by one means or other, been
brought into, and mixed up with, the body, and its great
natural encrease; the feelings that attach them to their descent—feelings
that originate, more properly, within themselves,
and feelings that press upon them from without—the
various occupations and positions in life in which they are
to be found; we cannot set any limit to their number.
Gipsies are just like other people; they have their own sets
or circles of associates, out of which, as a thing that is
almost invariable, they will hide, if not deny, themselves to
others of their race, for reasons which have already been
given. So almost invariable is this, at the present day,
amongst Gipsies that are not tented Gipsies, that, should an
English Gipsy come across a settlement of them in America—German
Gipsies, for example—and cast his sign, and address
them in their own speech, they will pretend not to
know what he means, although he sees the Gipsy in their
faces and about their dwellings. But should he meet with
them away from their homes, and where they are not known,
they would answer, and be cheek-by-jowl with him, in a moment.
I have found, by personal experience, that the same
holds with the French and other continental Gipsies in
America.[283] It is particularly so with the Scottish Gipsies.
For these reasons, it seems to be beyond question that the
number at which our author estimates them in Scotland, viz.,
5,000, must be vastly below the real number. If I were to
say 100,000, I do not think I would over-estimate them.
The opinion of the Gipsies whom our author questioned
was a guess, so far as it referred to the class to which they
belonged, or with which they were acquainted; so that, if
we take all kinds of Gipsies into account, it would be a very
moderate estimate to set the Scottish Gipsies down at
100,000; and those in all the British Isles at 300,000. The
number might be double what I have stated. The intelligent
English Gipsies say that, in England, they are not only
“dreadfully mixed,” but extremely numerous. There is not
a race of men on the face of the earth more prolific than
tented Gipsies; in a word, tented Gipsydom, if I may hazard
such an expression, is, comparatively speaking, like a rabbit
warren. The rough and uncouth kind of settled Gipsies are
likewise very prolific; but the higher classes, as a rule, are
by no means so much so. To set down any specific number
of Gipsies to be found in the British Isles, would be a thing
too arbitrary to serve any purpose; I think sufficient data
have been given to enable the intelligent reader to form an
opinion for himself.[284]
That many Gipsies were banished to America, in colonial
times, from England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, sometimes
for merely being “by habit and repute Gipsies,” is
beyond dispute. “Your Welsh and Irish,” said an English
Gipsy, in the United States, “were so mean, when they
banished a Gipsy to the Plantations, as to make him find
his own passage; but the English always paid the Gipsy’s
passage for him.” The Scotch seem also to have made the
Gipsy find his own passage, and failing that, to have hanged
him. It greatly interests the English Gipsies arriving in
America, to know about the native American Gipsies. I
have been frequently in the company of an English Gipsy,
in America, whose great-grandfather was so banished; but
he did not relish the subject being spoken of. Gipsies may
be said to have been in America almost from the time of its
settlement. We have already seen how many of them found
their way there, during the Revolution, by being impressed
as soldiers, and taken as volunteers, for the benefit of the
bounty and passage; and how they deserted on landing.
Tented Gipsies have been seen about Baltimore for the last
seventy years. In New England, a colony is known which
has existed for about a hundred years, and has always been
looked upon with a singular feeling of distrust and mystery
by the inhabitants, who are the descendants of the early
emigrants, and who did not suspect their origin till lately.
These Gipsies have never associated, in the common sense
of the word, with the other settlers, and, judging from their
exterior, seem poor and miserable, whatever their circumstances
may be. They follow pretty much the employment
and modes of life of the same class in Europe; the most
striking feature being, that the bulk of them leave the homestead
for a length of time, scatter in different directions,
and reunite, periodically, at their quarters, which are left
in charge of some of the feeble members of the band.
It is not likely that many of the colonial Gipsies would
take to the tent; for, arriving, for the most part, as individuals,
separated from family relations, they were more apt
to follow settled, semi-settled, or general itinerant occupations;
and the more so, as the face of the country, and the
thin and scattered settlements, would hardly admit of it.
They were apt to squat on wild or unoccupied lands, in the
neighbourhood of towns and settlements, like their brethren
in Europe, when they took up their quarters on the borders
of well-settled districts, with a wild country to fall back on,
in times of danger or prosecution by the lawful authorities.
Besides disposing of themselves, to some little extent,
in this way, many of the Gipsies, banished, or going to the
colonies of their own accord, would betake themselves to the
various occupations common to the ordinary emigrants; the
more especially as, when they arrived, they would find a field
in which they were not known to be Gipsies; which would
give them greater scope and confidence, and enable them to
go anywhere, or enter upon any employment, where, not
being known to be Gipsies, they would meet with no prejudice
to contend with. Indeed, a new country, in which the
people had, more or less, to be, in a sense, tinkers, that is,
jacks-of-all-trades, and masters of none, was just the sphere
of a handy Gipsy, who could “do a’ most of things.” They
would turn to the tinkering, peddling, horse-dealing, tavern-keeping,
and almost all the ordinary mechanical trades, and,
among others, broom-making. Perhaps the foundation of
the American broom manufacture was laid by the British
Gipsies, by whom it may be partly carried on at the present
day; a business they pretty much monopolize, in a rough
way, in Great Britain. We will doubtless find, among the
fraternity, some of those whittling, meddling Sam Slick peddlers,
so often described: I have seen some of those itinerant
venders of knife-sharpeners, and such “Yankee notions,”
with dark, glistening eyes, that would “pass for the article.”
Some of them would live by less legitimate business. I entertain
no doubt, what from the general fitness of things,
and the appearance of some of the men, that we will find
some of the descendants of the old British mixed Gipsies
members of the various establishments of Messrs. Peter
Funks and Company,[285] of the city of New York, as well as
elsewhere. And I entertain as little doubt that many of
those American women who tell fortunes, and engage in
those many curious bits of business that so often come up
at trials, are descendants of the British plantation stock of
Gipsies. But there are doubtless many of these Gipsies in
respectable spheres of life. It would be extremely unreasonable
to say that the descendants of the colonial Gipsies
do not still exist as Gipsies, like their brethren in Great
Britain, and other parts of the Old World. The English
Gipsies in America entertain no doubt of it; the more especially
as they have encountered such Gipsies, of at least
two descents. I have myself met with such a Gipsy, following
a decidedly respectable calling, whom I found as much
one of the tribe, barring the original habits, as perhaps any
one in Europe.
There are many Hungarian and German Gipsies in America;
some of them long settled in Pennsylvania and Maryland,
where they own farms. Some of them leave their
farms in charge of hired hands, during the summer, and proceed
South with their tents. In the State of Pennsylvania,
there is a settlement of them, on the J—— river, a little
way above H——, where they have saw-mills. About the
Alleghany Mountains, there are many of the tribe, following
somewhat the original ways of the race. In the United
States generally, there are many Gipsy peddlers, British as
well as continental. There are a good many Gipsies in
New York—English, Irish, and continental—some of whom
keep tin, crockery, and basket stores; but these are all
mixed Gipsies, and many of them of fair complexion. The
tin-ware which they make is generally of a plain, coarse
kind; so much so, that a Gipsy tin store is easily known.
They frequently exhibit their tin-ware and baskets on the
streets, and carry them about the city. Almost all, if not
all, of those itinerant cutlers and tinkers, to be met with in
New York, and other American cities, are Gipsies, principally
German, Hungarian, and French. There are a good
many Gipsy musicians in America. “What!” said I, to an
English Gipsy, “those organ-grinders?” “Nothing so low as
that. Gipsies don’t grind their music, sir; they make it.”
But I found in his house, when occupied by other Gipsies, a
hurdy-gurdy and tambourine; so that Gipsies sometimes
grind music, as well as make it. I know of a Hungarian
Gipsy who is leader of a Negro musical band, in the city of
New York; his brother drives one of the Avenue cars.
There are a number of Gipsy musicians in Baltimore, who
play at parties, and on other occasions. Some of the fortune-telling
Gipsy women about New York will make as
much as forty dollars a week in that line of business. They
generally live a little way out of the city, into which they
ride, in the morning, to their places of business. I know of
one, who resides in New Jersey, opposite New York, and
who has a place in the city, to which ladies, that is, females
of the highest classes, address their cards, for her to call
upon them. When she gets a chance of a young fellow with
his female friend, she “puts the screws on;” for she knows
well that he dare not “back out;” so she frequently manages
to squeeze five dollars out of him.
Many hundred, perhaps several thousand, of English
tented, and partly tented Gipsies, have arrived in America
within the last ten years. They, for the most part, travel,
and have travelled every State in the Union, east of the
Rocky Mountains, as well as the British Provinces, as horse-dealers,
peddlers, doctors, exhibitors, fortune-tellers, and
tramps generally. Such English Gipsies, above all men in
America, may, with the greatest propriety, say,
“No pent-up Utica contracts our powers,
But the whole boundless continent is ours.”
The fortune-tellers, every time they set out on their peregrinations,
choose a new route; for they say it is more difficult
to go over the same ground in America, than it is in England.
The horse-dealers say that Jonathan is a good judge
of a horse; that sometimes they get the advantage of him,
and sometimes he of them; but that his demand for a warranty
sometimes bothers them a deal. “What then?” I asked.
“Well, we give him a warranty; and should the beast happen
to turn out wrong, let him catch us if he can!” It is
really astonishing how sensibly these English Gipsies talk
of American affairs generally; they are very discriminating
in their remarks, and wonderfully observant of places and
localities. They do not like the Negroes. In their society
they drop the name of king, and adopt that of president.
“Cunning fellows,” said I, “to eschew the name of king,
and look down upon Negroes. That will do, in
America!”
I have found the above kind of Gipsies, in America, to be
generally pretty well off; they all seem to flourish, and
have plenty of money about them. The fortune-telling, horse-dealing,
and peddling branches of them have a fine field for
following their respective businesses. America, indeed, is a
“great country” for the Gipsies; for it contains “no end”
of chickens, to say nothing of ducks, geese, and turkeys,
many of which are carried off by varmint, anyhow. There,
they will find, for some time, many opportunities of gathering
rich harvests, among what has been termed the shrewdest,
but, in some things, the most gullible, of mortals, as an
instance may illustrate. A Gipsy woman, known as such,
drags, into the meshes of her necromancy, ‘cute Jonathan;
who, with an infinite reliance on his own smartness, to “try
the skill of the critter,” by her directions, ties up, in gold
and paper, something like a thousand dollars, and, after she
has passed her hands over it, and muttered a few cabalistic
words, deposits it in his strong box. She sets a day, on
which she calls, handles the “dimes,” while muttering some
more expressions, rather accidentally drops them, then returns
them to the box, and sets another day when she will
call, and add much to his wealth. She does not appear,
however, on the day mentioned. Our simpleton gets first
anxious, then excited, then suspicious, then examines his
“pile,” and finds it transformed into a lot of copper and old
paper! For, in dropping the parcel, Meg does it adroitly
about the folds of her dress, quickly substitutes another, exactly
alike, and makes off with the fruits of her labour.
Then come the hue and cry, telegraphing, and dispatching
of warrants everywhere. But why need he trouble himself?
So, after a harder day’s work than, perhaps, he ever underwent
in his life, he returns home: but knowing the sympathy
he will find there, he puts on his best face, and, to
have the first word of it, (for he is not to be laughed at,)
wipes his forehead, twitches his mouth, winks his eyes, and
remarks: “Waal, I reckon I’ve been most darnedly sold, anyhow!”
Such occurrences are very common among almost
all classes of rural Americans. Sometimes it is to discover
treasure on the individual’s lands, or in the neighbourhood;
sometimes a mine, and sometimes an Indian, a trapper, a
pirate, or a revolutionary deposit. When the Gipsy escapes
with her spoil, she frequently makes for her home, but
where that is, no one knows. On being molested, while there,
she produces friends, in fair standing, who prove an alibi;
and, with the further assistance of a well-feed lawyer, defies
all the requisitions, made by the governors of neighbouring
States, for her delivery. At other times, she will divide
with the inferior authorities, or surrender the whole of the
plunder; for, to go to jail she will not, if she can help it.[286]
In Virginia, the more original kind of Gipsies are very
frequently to be met with. It is in the Slave States they
are more apt to flourish in the olden form. The planters
need not trouble themselves about their tampering with the
Negroes, for they have no sympathy with them. Were it
otherwise, they would soon be mum, on finding what the results
would be to them. I have given some of them some
useful hints on that score. The general disposition of the
people, the want of learning among so many of them, the distances
between dwellings, the small villages, the handy mechanical
services of the Gipsies, the uncultivated tracts of
land, the game of various kinds, and the climate, seem to
point out some of the Slave States as an elysium for the Gipsies;
unless the wealthier part of the inhabitants should use
the poorer class as tools to drive them out of the country.[287]
There are a good many very respectable Scottish Gipsies
in the United States; but I do not wish to be too minute in
describing them. In Canada, I know of a doctor, a lawyer,
and an editor, Scottish Gipsies. The fact of the matter is,
that, owing to the mixture of the blood, the improvement,
and perpetuation, and secrecy, of the race, there may be
many, very many, Gipsies, in almost every place in the
world, and other people not know of it: and it is not
likely that, at the present time, they will say that they are
Gipsies. Indeed, the intelligent English travelling Gipsies
say that there are an immense number of Gipsies, of all countries,
colours, and occupations, in America.
There is even some resemblance between the formation of
Gipsydom and that of the United States. The children of
emigrants, it is well known, frequently prove the most ultra
Americans. Instead of the original colonists, at the Declaration
of Independence, imagine the commencement of Gipsydom
as proceeding from the original stock of Gipsies.
The addition to their number, from without, differs from
that which takes place among Americans, in this way: that
all such additions to Gipsydom are made in such a manner,
that the new blood gets innoculated, as it were, with the
old, or part of the old; so that it may be said of the whole
body,
One drop of blood makes all Gipsydom akin.
The simple fact of a person having Gipsy blood in his veins,
in addition to the rearing of a Gipsy parent, acts upon him
like a shock of electricity; it makes him spring to his feet,
and—“snap his teeth at other dogs!” A very important
circumstance contributing to this state of things is the antipathy
which mankind have for the very name of Gipsy,
which, as I have already said, they all take to themselves;
insomuch that the better class will not face it. They imagine
that, socially speaking, they are among the damned, and they
naturally cast their lot with the damned. Still, the antagonistic
spirit which would naturally arise towards society,
in the minds of such Gipsies, remains, in a measure, latent;
for they feel confident in their incognito, while moving
among their fellow-creatures; which circumstance robs it of
its sting.
Let a Lowlander, in times that are past, but have cast up
a Highlander’s blood to him, and what would have been the
consequences? “Her ainsel would have drawn her dirk, or
whipped out her toasting-iron, and seen which was the prettiest
man.” Let the same have been done to a Scottish
Gipsy, in comparatively recent times, and he would have
taken his own peculiar revenge. See how the Baillies, as
mentioned under the chapter of Tweed-dale and Clydesdale
Gipsies, mounted on horseback, and with drawn swords in
their hands, threatened death to all who opposed them, for
an affront offered to their mother. Twit a respectable
Gipsy with his blood, at the present day, and he would suffer
in silence; for, by getting into a passion, he would let
himself out. For this reason, it would be unmanly to hint
it to him, in any tone of disparagement. The difference of
feeling between the two races, at the present day, proceeds
from positive ignorance on the part of the native towards
the other; an ignorance in which the Gipsy would rather
allow him to remain; for, let him turn himself in whatever
direction he may, he imagines he sees, and perhaps does see,
nothing but a dark mountain of prejudice existing between
him and every other of his fellow-creatures. He would
rather retain his incognito, and allow his race to go down
to posterity shrouded in its present mystery. The history
of the Gipsy race in Scotland, more, perhaps, than in any
other country, shows, to the eye of the world, as few traces
of its existence as would a fox, in passing over a ploughed
field. The farmer might see the foot-prints of reynard, but
how is he to find reynard himself? He must bring out the
dogs and have a hunt for him. As an Indian of the prairie,
while on the “war path,” cunningly arranges the long grass
into its natural position, as he passes through it, to prevent
his enemy following him, so has the Scottish Gipsy, as he
entered upon a settled life, destroyed, to the eye of the ordinary
native, every trace of his being a Gipsy. Still, I
cannot doubt but that he has misgivings that, some day, he
will be called up to judgment, and that all about him will
be exposed to the world.
What is it that troubles the educated Gipsies? Nothing
but the word Gipsy; a word which, however sweet when
used among themselves, conveys an ugly, blackguard, and
vagabond meaning to other people. The poet asks, What is
there in a name? and I reply, Everything, as regards the name
Gipsy. For a respectable Scottish Gipsy to say to the public,
that “his mother is a Gipsy,” or, that “his wife is a Gipsy,” or,
that “he is a Gipsy;” such a Gipsy simply could not do it.
These Gipsies will hardly ever use the word among themselves,
except in very select circles; but they will say “he’s one of
us;” “he’s from Yetholm;” “he’s from the metropolis,”
(Yetholm being the metropolis of Scottish Gipsydom;) or, “he’s
a traveller.” If the company is not over classical, they will
say “he’s from the black quarry,” or, “he’s been with the cuddies.”
Imagine a select party of educated Scottish Gipsies,
all closely related. They will then chatter Gipsy over their
tea; but if a person should drop in, one of the party, who is
not acquainted with him, will nudge and whisper to another,
“Is he one of the tribe?” or, “Is he one of us?” The better
class of Scottish Gipsies are very exclusive in matters of
this kind.
All things considered, in what other position could the
Gipsy race, in Scotland especially, be, at the present day,
than that described? How can we imagine a race of people
to act otherwise than hide themselves, if they could, from
the odium that attaches to the name of Gipsy? And what
estimate should we place on that charity which would lead
a person to denounce a Gipsy, should he deny himself to be
a Gipsy?[288] As a race, what can they offer to society at
large to receive them within its circle? They can offer little,
as a race; but, if we consider them as individuals, we
will find many of them whose eduction, character, and position
in life, would warrant their admission into any ordinary
society, and some of them into any society. Notwithstanding
all that, none will answer up to the name of Gipsy.
It necessarily follows, that the race must remain shrouded
in its present mystery, unless some one, not of the race,
should become acquainted with its history, and speak for
it. In Scotland, the prejudice towards the name of Gipsy
might be safely allowed to drop, were it only for this reason:
that the race has got so much mixed up with the native
blood, and even with good families of the country, as to
be, in plain language, a jumble—a pretty kettle of fish, indeed.
One’s uncle, in seeking for a wife, might have
stumbled over an Egyptian woman, and, either known or
unknown to himself, had his children brought up bitter
Gipsies; so that one’s cousins may be Gipsies, for anything
one knows. A man may have a colony of Gipsies in
his own house, and know nothing about it! The Gipsies
died out? Oh, no. They commenced in Scotland by wringing
the necks of one’s chickens, and now they sometimes
. . . . . . ! But what is Gipsydom, after all, but a
“working in among other people?”
In seeking for Gipsies among Scotch people, I know where
to begin, but it puzzles me where to leave off. I would pay
no regard to colour of hair or eyes, character, employment,
position, or, indeed, any outward thing. The reader may say:
“It must be a difficult matter to detect such mixed and educated
Gipsies as those spoken of.” It is not only difficult,
but outwardly impossible. Such Gipsies cannot even tell
each other, from their personal appearance; but they have
signs, which they can use, if the others choose to respond to
them. If I go into a company which I have reason to believe
is a Gipsy one, and it know nothing of me, so far as
my pursuit is concerned, I will bring the subject of the Gipsies
up, in a very roundabout way, and mark the effect which
the conversation makes, or the turn it takes. What I know
of the subject, and of the ignorance of mankind generally in
regard to it, enables me to say, in almost every instance,
who they are, let them make any remark they like, look as
they like, pretend what they like, wriggle about as they like,
or keep dead silent. As I gradually glide into the subject,
and expatiate upon the “greatness of the society,” one remarks,
“I know it;” upon the “respectability of some of its
members,” and another emphatically exclaims, “That’s a
fact;” and upon “its universality,” and another bawls out,
“That’s so.” Indeed, by finding the Gipsies, under such
circumstances, completely off their guard, (for they do not
doubt their secret being confined to themselves,) I can generally
draw forth, in one way or other, as much moral certainty,
barring their direct admission, as to their being Gipsies,
as a dog, by putting his nose into a hole, can tell
whether a rat is there, or not.
The principle of the transmutation of Gipsy blood into
white, in appearance, is illustrated, in the ninth chapter of Mr.
Borrow’s “Bible in Spain,” by its changing into almost pure
black. A Gipsy soldier, in the Spanish army, killed his
sergeant, for “calling him calo, (Gipsy,) and cursing him,” and
made his escape. His wife remained in the army, as a sutler,
selling wine. Two years thereafter, a strange man came
to her wine shop. “He was dressed like a Moor, (corahano,)
and yet he did not look like one; he looked more like a
black, and yet he was not a black, either, though he was
almost black. And, as I looked upon him, I thought he
looked something like the Errate, (Gipsies,) and he said to
me, ‘Zincali, chachipé,’ (the Gipsy salutation.) And then
he whispered to me, in queer language, which I could scarcely
understand,’Your husband is waiting; come with me, my
little sister, and I will take you to him.’ About a league
from the town, beneath a hill, we found four people, men
and women, all very black, like the strange man; and we
joined ourselves with them, and they all saluted me, and
called me ‘little sister.’ And away we marched, for many
days, amidst deserts and small villages. The men would
cheat with mules and asses, and the women told baji. I
often asked him (her husband) about the black men, and he
told me that he believed them to be of the Errate.” Her
husband, then a soldier in the Moorish army, having been
killed, this Gipsy woman married the black man, with whom
she followed real Gipsy life. She said to him: “Sure I am
amongst the Errate; . . . . and I often said that they
were of the Errate; and then they would laugh, and say
that it might be so; and that they were not Moors, (corahai,)
but they could give no account of themselves.” From this
it would seem that, while preserving their identity, wherever
they go, there are Gipsies who may not be known to the
world, or to the tribe, in other continents, by the same
name.[289]
A word upon the universality of the Gipsies. English
Gipsies, on arriving in America, feel quite taken aback, on
coming across a tent or wigwam of Indians. “Didn’t you
feel,” said I to some of them, “very like a dog when he
comes across another dog, a stranger to him?” And, with
a laugh, they said, “Exactly so.” After looking awhile at
the Indians, they will approach them, and “cast their sign,
and salute them in Gipsy;” and if no response is made, they
will pass on. They then come to learn who the Indians are.
The same curiosity is excited among the Gipsies on meeting
with the American farmer, on the banks of the Mississippi
or Missouri; who, in travelling to market, in the summer,
will, to save expenses, unyoke his horses, at mid-day or evening,
at the edge of the forest, light his fire, and prepare his
meal. What with the “kettle and tented wagon,” the tall,
lank, bony, and swarthy appearance of the farmer, the Gipsy
will approach him, as he did the Indian; and pass on, when
no response is made to his sign and salutation. Under such
circumstances, the Gipsy would cast his sign, and give his
salutation, whether on the banks of the Mississippi or the
Ganges. Nay, a very respectable Scottish Gipsy boasted to
me, that, by his signs alone, he could push his way to the
wall of China, and even through China itself. And there
are doubtless Gipsies in China. Mr. Borrow says, that when
he visited the tribe at Moscow, they supposed him to be one
of their brothers, who, they said, were wandering about in
Turkey, China, and other parts. It is very likely that Russian
Gipsies have visited China, by the route taken by
Russian traders, and met with Gipsies there.[290] But it tickles
the Gipsy most, when it is insinuated, that if Sir John Franklin
had been fortunate in his expedition, he would have
found a Gipsy tinkering a kettle at the North Pole.
The particulars of a meeting between English and American
Gipsies are interesting. Some English Gipsies were
endeavouring to sell some horses, in Annapolis, in the State
of Maryland, to what had the appearance of being respectable
American farmers; who, however, spoke to each other
in the Gipsy language, dropping a word now and then, such
as “this is a good one,” and so on. The English Gipsies
felt amazed, and at last said: “What is that you are saying?
Why, you are Gipsies!” Upon this, the Americans
wheeled about, and left the spot as fast as they could. Had
the English Gipsies taken after the Gipsy in their appearance,
they would not have caused such a consternation to
their American brethren, who showed much of “the blood”
in their countenances; but as, from their blood being much
mixed, they did not look like Gipsies, they gave the others a
terrible fright, on their being found out. The English Gipsies
said they felt disgusted at the others not owning themselves
up. But I told them they ought rather to have felt
proud of the Americans speaking Gipsy, as it was the prejudice
of the world that led them to hide their nationality.
On making enquiry in the neighbourhood, they found that
these American Gipsies had been settled there since, at
least, the time of their grandfather, and that they bore an
English name.
There are Scottish Gipsies in the United States, following
respectable callings, who speak excellent Gipsy, according
to the judgment of intelligent English Gipsies. The English
Gipsies say the same of the Gipsy families in Scotland,
with whom they are acquainted; but that some of their
words vary from those spoken in England. There is, however,
a rivalry between the English and Scottish Gipsies, as
to whose pronunciation of the words is the correct one:
in that respect, they somewhat resemble the English and
Scottish Latinists. One intelligent Gipsy gave it as his
opinion, that the word great, baurie, in Scotland, was softer
than boro, in England, and preferable, indeed, the right pronunciation
of the word. The German Gipsies are said, by
their English brethren, to speak Gipsy backwards; from
which I would conclude, that it follows the construction of
the German language, which differs so materially, in that
respect, from the English.[291] It is a thing well-nigh impossible,
to get a respectable Scottish Gipsy to own up to
even a word of the Gipsy language. On meeting with a respectable—Scotchman,
I will call him—in a company, lately,
I was asked by him: “Are ye a’ Tinklers?” “We’re travellers,”
I replied. “But who is he?” he continued, pointing
to my acquaintance. Going up to him, I whispered
“His dade is a baurie grye-femler,” (his father is a great
horse-dealer;) and he made for the door, as if a bee had
got into his ear. But he came back; oh, yes, he came
back. There was a mysterious whispering of “pistols and
coffee,” at another time.
It is beyond doubt that the Gipsy language in Great Britain
is broken, but not so broken as to consist of words only;
it consists, rather, of expressions, or pieces, which are tacked
together by native words—generally small words—which
are lost to the ordinary ear, when used in conversation. In
that respect, the use of Gipsy may be compared to the revolutions
of a wheel: we know that the wheel has spokes, but,
in its velocity, we cannot distinguish the colour or material
of each individual spoke; it is only when it stands still that
that can be done. In the same manner, when we come to
examine into the British Gipsy language, we perceive its
broken nature. But it still serves the purpose of a speech.
Let any one sit among English Gipsies, in America, and
hear them converse, and he cannot pick up an idea, and
hardly a word which they say. “I have always thought
Dutch bad enough,” said an Irishman, who has often heard
English Gipsies, in the State of New Jersey, speak among
themselves; “but Gipsy is perfect gibble-gabble, like ducks
and geese, for anything I can make of it.” Some Gipsies
can, of course, speak Gipsy much better than others. It is
most unlikely that the Scottish Gipsies, with the head, the
pride, and the tenacity of native Scotch, would be the first
to forget the Gipsy language. The sentiments of the people
themselves are very emphatic on that head. “It will never
be forgotten, sir; it is in our hearts, and, as long as a single
Tinkler exists, it will be remembered,” (page 297.) “So
long as there existed two Gipsies in Scotland, it would never
be lost,” (page 316.) The English Gipsies admit that the
language is more easily preserved in a settled life, but more
useful to travelling and out-door Gipsies; and that it is
carefully kept up by both classes of Gipsies. This information
agrees with our author’s, in regard to the settled Scottish
Gipsies. There is one very strong motive, among many,
for the Gipsies keeping up their language, and that is, as I
have already said, their self-respect. The best of them believe
that it is altogether problematical how they would be
received in society, were they to make an avowal of their
being Gipsies, and lay bare the history of their race to the
world. The prejudice that exists against the race, and
against them, they imagine, were they known to be Gipsies,
drives them back on that language which belongs exclusively
to themselves; to say nothing of the dazzling hold which it
takes of their imagination, as they arrive at years of reflection,
and consider that the people speaking it have been
transplanted from some other clime. The more intelligent
the Gipsy, the more he thinks of his speech, and the more
care he takes of it.
People often reprobate the dislike, I may say the hatred,
which the more original Gipsy entertains for society; forgetting
that society itself has had the greatest share in the
origin of it. When the race entered Europe, they are not
presumed to have had any hatred towards their fellow-creatures.[292]
That hatred, doubtless, sprang from the severe
reception, and universal persecution, which, owing to the
singularity of their race and habits, they everywhere met
with. The race then became born into that state of things.
What would subsequent generations know of the origin of
the feud? All that they knew was, that the law made
them outlaws and outcasts; that they were subject, as Gipsies,
to be hung, before they were born. Such a Gipsy
might be compared to Pascal’s man springing up out of an
island: casting his eyes around him, he finds nothing but a
legal and social proscription hanging over his head, in whatever
direction he may turn. Whatever might be assumed
to have been the original, innate disposition of a Gipsy, the
circumstances attending him, from his birth to his death, were
certainly not calculated to improve him, but to make him
much worse than he might otherwise have been. The worst
that can be said of the Scottish Gipsies, in times past, has
been stated by our author. With all their faults, we find a
vein of genuine nobility of character running through all
their actions, which is the more worthy of notice, considering
that they were at war with society, and society at war
with them. Not the least important feature is that of gratitude
for kind and hospitable treatment. In that respect,
a true Scottish Gipsy has always been as true as steel; and
that is saying a great deal in his favour. The instance
given by our author, (pages 361-363,) is very touching, and
to the point. I do not know how it may be, at the present
day, in Scotland, where are to be found so many Irish
Gipsies, of whom the Scottish and English Gipsies have not
much good to say, notwithstanding the assistance they render
each other when they meet, (page 324.) If the English
farmers are questioned, I doubt not that a somewhat similar
testimony will be borne to the English Gipsies, to this extent,
at least, that, when civilly and hospitably treated, and personally
acquainted, they will respect the farmers’ property,
and even keep others off it. Indeed, both Scottish and
English Gipsies call this “Gipsy law.” It is certainly not
the Scottish Gipsies, or, I may venture to say, the English
Gipsies, to whom Mr. Borrow’s words may be applied, when
he says: “I have not expatiated on their gratitude towards
good people, who treat them kindly, and take an interest in
their welfare; for I believe, that, of all beings in the world,
they are the least susceptible of such a feeling.” Such a
character may apply to the Spanish Gipsies for anything I
know to the contrary; and the causes to which it may be
attributed must be the influences which the Spanish character,
and general deportment towards the tribe, have exercised
over them. In speaking of the bloody and wolfish
disposition which especially characterizes the Gitanos, Mr.
Borrow says: “The cause to which this must be attributed,
must be 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.” Grellmann bears as poor testimony to the
character of the Hungarian Gipsies, in the matter of gratitude,
as Mr. Borrow does to the Spanish Gipsies, to whom I
apprehend his remarks are intended to apply. But both of
these authors give an opinion, unaccompanied by facts.
Their opinion may be correct, however, so far as it is applicable
to the class of Gipsies, or the individuals, to whom they
refer. Gratitude is even a characteristic of the lower animals.
“For every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents,
and of things in the sea, is tamed and hath been
tamed of mankind,” saith St. James; the means of attaining
to which is frequently kindness. I doubt not that the same
can be said of Gipsies anywhere; for surely we can expect
to find as much gratitude in them as can be called forth
from things that creep, fly, or swim in the sea. It is unreasonable,
however, to look for much gratitude from such
Gipsies as the two authors in question have evidently alluded
to; for this reason: that it is a virtue rarely to be met with
from those “to whom much has been given;” and, consequently,
very little should be required of those to whom
nothing has been given, in the estimation of their fellow-creatures.
In doing a good turn to a Gipsy, it is not the
act itself that calls forth, or perhaps merits, a return in
gratitude; but it is the way in which it is done: for, while
he is doubtless being benefited, he is, frequently if not generally,
as little sympathized with, personally, as if he were
some loathsome creature to which something had been
thrown.
As regards the improvement of the Gipsies, I would make
the following suggestions: The facts and principles of the
present work should be thoroughly canvassed and imprinted
upon the public mind, and an effort made to bring, if possible,
our high-class Gipsies to own themselves up to be
Gipsies. The fact of these Gipsies being received into society,
and respected, as Gipsies, (as it is with them, at present,
as men,) could not fail to have a wonderful effect upon many
of the humble, ignorant, or wild ones. They would perceive,
at once, that the objections which the community had to
them, proceeded, not from their being Gipsies, but from
their habits, only. What is the feeling which Gipsies, who
are known to be Gipsies, have for the public at large?
The white race, as a race, is simply odious to them, for they
know well the dreadful prejudice which it bears towards
them. But let some of their own race, however mixed the
blood might be, be respected as Gipsies, and it would, in a
great measure, break down, at least in feeling, the wall of
caste that separates them from the community at large. This
is the first, the most important, step to be taken to improve
the Gipsies, whatever may be the class to which they belong.
Let the prejudice be removed, and it is impossible to say
what might not follow. Before attempting to reform the
Gipsies, we ought to reform, or, at least, inform, mankind in
regard to them; and endeavour to reconcile the world to
them, before we attempt to reconcile them to the world; and
treat them as men, before we try to make them Christians.
The poor Gipsies know well that there are many of their race
occupying respectable positions in life; perhaps they do not
know many, or even any, of them, personally, but they believe
in it thoroughly. Still, they will deny it, at least hide it from
strangers, for this reason, among others, that it is a state to
which their children, or even they themselves, look forward,
as ultimately awaiting them, in which they will manage to
escape from the odium of their fellow-creatures, which clings
to them in their present condition. The fact of the poor
travelling Gipsies knowing of such respectable settled Gipsies,
gives them a certain degree of respect in their own
eyes, which leads them to repel any advance from the other
race, let it come in almost whatever shape it may. The
white race, as I have already said, is perfectly odious to
them. This is exactly the position of the question. The
more original kind of Gipsies feel that the prejudice which
exists against the race to which they belong is such, that an
intercourse cannot be maintained between them and the
other inhabitants; or, if it does exist, it is of so clandestine a
nature, that their appearance, and, it may be, their general
habits, do not allow or lead them to indulge in it. I will
make a few more remarks on this subject further on in this
treatise.
What are the respectable, well-disposed Scottish Gipsies
but Scotch people, after all? They are to be met with in
almost every, if not every, sphere in which the ordinary Scot
is to be found. The only difference between the two is,
that, however mixed the blood of these Gipsies may be,
their associations of descent and tribe go back to those
black, mysterious heroes who entered Scotland, upwards of
three hundred and fifty years ago; and that, with this descent,
they have the words and signs of Gipsies. The possession
of all these, with the knowledge of the feelings
which the ordinary natives have for the very name of Gipsy,
makes the only distinction between them and other Scotchmen.
I do not say that the world would have any prejudice
against these Gipsies, as Gipsies, still, they are morbidly sensitive
that it would have such a feeling. The light of reason,
of civilization, of religion, and the genius of Britons, forbid
such an idea. What object more worthy of civilization, and
of the age in which we live, than that such Gipsies would come
forward, and, by their positions in society, their talents and
characters, dispel the mystery and gloom that hang over the
history of the Gipsy race!
But will these Gipsies do that? I have my misgivings.
They may not do it now, but I am sanguine enough to think
that it is an event that may take place at some future time.
The subject must, in the meantime, be thoroughly investigated,
and the mind of the public fully prepared for such a
movement. The Gipsies themselves, to commence with,
should furnish the public with information, anonymously, so
far as they are personally concerned, or confidentially,
through a person of standing, who can guarantee the trustworthiness
of the Gipsy himself. I do not expect that they
would give us any of the language; but they can furnish us
with some idea of the position which the Gipsies occupy in
the world, and throw a great deal of light upon the history
of the race in Scotland, in, at least, comparatively recent
times. In anticipation of such an occurrence, I would make
this suggestion to them: that they must be very careful
what they say, on account of the “court holding them interested
witnesses;” and, whatever they may do, to deny
nothing connected with the Gipsies. They certainly have
kept their secret well; indeed, they have considered the
subject, so far as the public is concerned, as dead and buried
long ago. It is of no use, however, Gipsies; “murder will
out;” the game is up; it is played out. I may say to you
what the hunter said to the ‘coon, or rather what the ‘coon
said to the hunter: “You may just as well come down the
tree.” Yes! come down the tree; you have been too long
up; come down, and let us know all about you.[293]
Scottish Gipsies! I now appeal to you as men. Am I not
right, in asserting, that there is nothing you hold more dear
than your Egyptian descent, signs, and language? And
nothing you more dread than such becoming known to your
fellow-men around you? Do you not read, with the greatest
interest, any and everything printed, which comes in your
way, about the Gipsies, and say, that you thank God all that
is a thousand miles away from you? Whence this inconsistency?
Ah! I understand it well. Shall the prejudice of
mankind towards the name of Gipsy drive you from the
position which you occupy? Can it drive you from it? No,
it cannot. The Gipsies, you know, are a people; a “mixed
multitude,” no doubt, but still a people. You know you are
Gipsies, for your parents before you were Gipsies, and, consequently,
that you cannot be anything but Gipsies. What
effect, then, has the prejudice against the race upon you?
Does it not sometimes appear to you as if, figuratively speaking,
it would put a dagger into your hands against the rest
of your species, should they discover that you belonged to
the tribe? Or that it would lead you to immediately “take
to your beds,” or depart, bed and baggage, to parts unknown?
But then, Gipsies, what can you do? The thought of it
makes you feel as if you were sheep. Some of you may be
bold enough to face a lion in the flesh; but who so bold as
to own to the world that he is a Gipsy? There is just one of
the higher class that I know of, and he was a noble specimen
of a man, a credit to human nature itself. Although
you might shrink from such a step, would you not like, and
cannot you induce, some one to take it? Take my word for
it, respectable Scottish Gipsies, the thing that frightens you
is, after all, a bug-bear—a scare-crow. But, failing some of
you “coming out,” would you not rather that the world
should now know that much of the history of the Gipsy race,
as to show that it was no necessary disparagement in any
of you to be a Gipsy? Would you not rather that a Gipsy
might pass, anywhere, for a gentleman, as he does now, everywhere,
for a vagabond; and that you and your children
might, if they liked, show their true colours, than, as at present,
go everywhere incog, and carry within them that
secret which they are as afraid of being divulged to the
world, as if you and all your kin were conspirators and murderers?
The secret being out, the incognito of your race
goes for nothing. Come then, Scottish Gipsy, make a clean
breast of it, like a man. Which of you will exclaim,
“Thus from the grave I’ll rise, and save my love;
Draw all your swords, and quick as lightning move!
When I rush on, sure none will dare to stay;
‘Tis love commands, and glory leads the way!”
Will none of you move? Ah! Gipsies, you are “great
hens,” and no wonder.
American Gipsies, descendants of the real old British
stock! I make the same appeal to you. Let the world
know how you are getting on, in this land of “liberty and
equality;” and whether any of your race are senators, congressmen,
and what not. I have heard of a Gipsy, a sheriff
in the State of Pennsylvania; and I know of a Scottish
Gipsy, who was lately returned a member of the Legislature
of the State of New York.
The reader may ask: Is it possible that there is a race of
men, residing in the British Isles, to be counted by its hundreds
of thousands, occupying such a position as that described?
And I reply, Alas! it is too true. Exeter Hall
may hobnob with Negroes, Hottentots, and Bosjesmen—always
with something or other from a distance; but what
has it ever done for the Gipsies? Nothing! It will rail
at the American prejudice towards the Negro, and entirely
pass over a much superior race at its own door! The
prejudice against the Negro proceeds from two causes—his
appearance and the servitude in which he is, or has been,
held. But there can be no prejudice against the Gipsy, on
such grounds. It will not do to say that the prejudice is
against the tented Gipsies, only; it is against the race, root
and branch, as far as it is known. What is it but that
which compels the Gipsy, on entering upon a settled life, to
hide himself from the unearthly prejudice of his fellow-creatures?
The Englishman, the Scotchman, and the Irishman
may rail at the American for his peculiar prejudices;
but the latter, if he can but capitalize the idea, has, in all
conscience, much to throw back upon society in the mother
country. Instead of a class of the British public spending
so much of their time in an agitation against an institution
thousands of miles away from home, and over which they
have, and can expect to have, no control, they might direct
their attention to an evil laying at their own doors—that
social prejudice which is so much calculated to have a blasting
influence upon the condition of so many of their fellow-subjects.
It is beyond doubt that there cannot be less than
a quarter of a million of Gipsies in the British Isles, who
are living under a grinding despotism of caste; a despotism
so absolute and odious, that the people upon whom it bears
cannot, as in Scotland, were it almost to save their lives,
even say who they are! Let the time and talents spent on
the agitation in question be transferred, for a time, into
some such channel as would be implied in a “British Anti-Gipsy-prejudice
Association,” and a great moral evil may
disappear from the face of British society. In such a movement,
there would be none of that direct or indirect interest
to be encountered, which lies on the very threshold of slavery,
in whatever part of the world it exists; nor would there
be any occasion to appeal to people’s pockets.[294] After the
work mentioned has been accomplished, the British public
might turn their attention to wrongs perpetrated in other
climes. Americans, however, must not attempt to seek, in
the British Gipsy-prejudice, an excuse for their excessive
antipathy towards Negroes. I freely admit that the dislike
of white men, generally, for the Negro, lies in something that
is irremovable—something that is irrespective of character,
or present or previous social condition. But it is not so with
the Gipsy, for his race is, physically, among the finest that
are to be found on the face of the earth. Americans ought
also to consider that there are plenty of Gipsies among
themselves, towards whom, however, there are none of those
prejudices that spring from local tradition or association,
but only such as proceed from literature, and that towards
the tented Gipsy.
What is to be the future of the Gipsy race? A reply to
this question will be found in the history of it during the
past, as described; for it resolves itself into two very simple
matters of fact. In the first place, we have a foreign race,
deemed, by itself, to be, as indeed it is, universal, introduced
into Scotland, for example, taken root there, spread, and
flourished; a race that rests upon a basis the strongest
imaginable. On the other hand, there is the prejudice of
caste towards the name, which those bearing it escape, only,
by assuming an incognito among their fellow-creatures.
These two principles, acting upon beings possessing the feelings
of men, will, of themselves, produce that state of things
which will constitute the history of the Gipsies during all
time coming, whatever may be the changes that may come
over their character and condition. They may, in course
of time, lose their language, as some of them, to a great extent,
have done already; but they will always retain a consciousness
of being Gipsies. The language may be lost, but
their signs will remain, as well as so much of their speech
as will serve the purpose of pass-words. “There is something
there,” said an English Gipsy of intelligence, smiting
his breast, “There is something there which a Gipsy cannot
explain.” And, said a Scottish Gipsy: “It will never be
forgotten; as long as the world lasts, the Gipsies will be
Gipsies.” What idea can be more preposterous than that
of saying, that a change of residence or occupation, or a
little more or less of education or wealth, or a change of
character or creed, can eradicate such feeling from the heart
of a Gipsy; or that these circumstances can, by any human
possibility, change his descent, his tribe, or the blood that is
in his body? How can we imagine this race, arriving in
Europe so lately as the fifteenth century, and in Scotland the
century following, with an origin so distinct from the rest
of the world, and so treated by the world, can possibly have
lost a consciousness of nationality in its descent, in so short
a time after arrival; or, that that can happen in the future,
when there are so many circumstances surrounding it to
keep alive a sense of its origin, and so much within it to
preserve its identity in the history of the human family?
Let the future history of the world be what it may, Gipsydom
is immortal.[295]
In considering the question of the Gipsies being openly
admitted, as a race, into the society of mankind, I ask, what
possible reason could a British subject advance against such
taking place with, at least, the better kind of Scottish Gipsies?
Society, generally, would not be over-ready to lessen
the distance between itself and the tented Gipsies, or those
who live by means really objectionable; but it should have
that much sense of justice, as to confine its peculiar feelings
to the ways of life of these individuals, and not keep them
up against their children, when they follow different habits.
If, for example, I should have made the acquaintance of
some Scottish Gipsies, associated with them, and acquired a
respect for them, (as has happened with me,) how could I
take exceptions to them, on account of it afterwards leaking
out that they were Gipsies? A sense of ordinary justice
would forbid me doing so. I can see nothing objectionable
in their conduct, as distinguished from that of other people;
and as for their appearance, any person, on being asked to
point out the Gipsy, would, so far as colour of hair and eyes
goes, pitch upon many a common native, in preference to
them. A sense of ordinary justice, as I have said, would
disarm me of any prejudice against them; nay, it would urge
me to think the more of them, on account of their being
Gipsies. To the ordinary eye, they are nothing but Scotch
people, and pass, everywhere, for such. There is a Scottish
Gipsy in the United States, with whom I am acquainted—a
liberal-minded man, and good company—who carries
on a wholesale trade, in a respectable article of merchandise,
and he said to me: “I will not deny it, nor am I ashamed
to say it—I come from Yetholm.” And I replied: “Why
should you be ashamed of it?”
It is this hereditary prejudice of centuries towards the
name, that constitutes the main difficulty in the way of recognition
of these Gipsies by the world generally. How long
it may be since they or their ancestors left the tent, is a
thing of no importance; personal character, education, and
position in life, are the only things that should be considered.
The Gipsies to whom I allude do not require to be reformed,
unless in that sense in which all men stand in need of reformation:
what is wanted is, that the world should raise up
the name of Gipsy. And why should not that be done by
the people of Great Britain, and Scotland especially, in
whose mouths are continually these words: “God hath made
of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face
of the earth?” Will the British public spend its hundreds
of thousands, annually, on every other creature under heaven,
and refuse to countenance the Gipsy race? Will it
squander its tens of thousands to convert, perhaps, on an
average, one Jew, and refuse a kind word, nay, grudge a
smile, towards that body, a member of which may be an
official of that Missionary Society, or, it may be, the very
chairman of it? I can conceive no liberal-minded Scotchman,
possessing a feeling of true self-respect, entertaining a
prejudice against such Gipsies. The only people in Scotland
in whose mind such a prejudice might be supposed to exist,
are those miserable old women around the neighbourhood of
Stirling, who, under the influence of the old Highland feud,
will look with the greatest contempt upon a person, if he but
come from the north of the Ochils. I would class, with such
old women, all of our Scotch people who would object to the
Gipsies to whom I have alluded. A Scotchman should even
have that much love of country, as to take hold of his own
Gipsies, and “back them up” against those of other countries:
and particularly should he do that, when the “Gipsies”
might be his cousins, nay, his own children, for anything
that he might know to the contrary. Scotch people
should consider that the “Tinklers,” whom they see going
about, at the present day, are, if not the very lowest kind of
Gipsies, at least those who follow the original ways of their
race; and are greatly inferior, not only relatively, but actually,
to many of those who have gone before them. They
should also consider that Gipsies are a race, however mixed
the blood may be; subject, as a race, to be governed, in their
descent, by those laws which regulate the descent of all
races; and that a Gipsy is as much a Gipsy in a house as in
a tent, in a “but and a ben” as in a palace.
Wherever a Gipsy goes, he carries his inherent peculiarities
with him; and the objection to him he considers to be
to something inseparable from himself—that which he cannot
escape; but the confidence which he has in his incognito
neutralizes, as I have already said, the feelings which such a
circumstance would naturally produce. But, to disarm him
altogether of this feeling, all that is necessary is to state his
case, and have it admitted by the “honourable of the earth;”
so that his mind may be set at perfect rest on that point.
He would, doubtless, still hide the fact of his being a Gipsy,
but he would enjoy, in his retreat, that inward self-respect,
among his fellow-creatures, which such an admission would
give him; and which is so much calculated to raise the people,
generally, in every moral attribute. It is, indeed, a melancholy
thing, to contemplate this cloud which hangs over
such a man, as he mixes with other people, in his daily calling;
but to dispel it altogether, the Gipsy himself must, in
the manner described, give us some information about his
race. Apart from the sense of justice which is implied in
admitting these Gipsies, as Gipsies, to a social equality with
others, a motive of policy should lead us to take such a step;
for it can augur no good to society to have the Gipsy race
residing in its midst, under the cloud that hangs over it.
Let us, by a liberal and enlightened policy, at least blunt
the edge of that antipathy which many of the Gipsy race
have, and most naturally have, to society at large.
In receiving a Gipsy, as a Gipsy, into society, there should
be no kind of officious sympathy shown him, for he is too proud
to submit to be made the object of it. Should he say that he is
a Gipsy, the remark ought to be received as a mere matter
of course, and little notice taken of it; just as if it made no
difference to the other party whether he was a Gipsy or not.
A little surprise would be allowable; but anything like condolence
would be out of the question. And let the Gipsy
himself, rather, talk upon the subject, than a desire be shown
to ask him questions, unless his remarks should allow them,
in a natural way, to be put to him. As to the course to be
pursued by the Gipsy, should he feel disposed to own himself
up, I would advise him to do it in an off-handed, hearty
manner; to show not the least appearance that he had any
misgivings about any one taking exceptions to him on that
account. Should he act otherwise, that is, hesitate, and
take to himself shamefacedness, in making the admission, it
would, perhaps, have been better for him not to have committed
himself at all: for, in such a matter, it may be said,
that “he that doubteth is damned.” The simple fact of a
man, in Scotland, saying, after the appearance of this work
there, that he is a Gipsy, if he is conscious of having the
esteem of his neighbours, would probably add to his popularity
among them; especially if they were men of good
sense, and had before their eyes the expression of good-will
of the organs of society towards the Gipsy race. Such an
admission, on the part of a Gipsy, would presumptively
prove, that he was a really candid and upright person; for
few Scottish Gipsies, beyond those about Yetholm, would
make such a confession. Having mentioned the subject, the
Gipsy should allude to it, on every appropriate occasion,
and boast of being in possession of those words and signs
which the other is entirely ignorant of. He could well say:
“What was Borrow to him, or he to Borrow; that, for his
part, he could traverse the world over, and, in the centre of
any continent, be received and feasted, by Gipsies, as a king.”
If but one respectable Scottish Gipsy could be prevailed
upon to act in this way, what an effect might it not have
upon raising up the name of this singular race! But there
is a very serious difficulty to be encountered in the outset of
such a proceeding, and it is this, that if a Gipsy owns himself
up, he necessarily “lets out,” perhaps, all his kith and
kin; a regard for whom would, in all probability, keep him
back. But there would be no such difficulty to be met with
in the way of the Gipsy giving us information by writing.
Let us, then, Gipsy, have some writing upon the Gipsies. It
will serve no good purpose to keep such information back;
the keeping of it back will not cast a doubt upon the facts
and principles of the present work; for rest assured, Gipsy,
that, upon its own merits, your secret is exploded. I would
say this to you, young Scottish Gipsy; pay no regard to what
that old Gipsy says, when he tells you, that “he is too old
a bird to be caught with chaff in that way.”
The history of the Gipsies is the history of a people
(mixed, in point of blood, as it is,) which exists; not the history
of a people, like the Aborigines of North America,
which has ceased to exist, or is daily ceasing to exist.[296] It
is the history of a people within a people, with whom we
come in contact daily, although we may not be aware of it.
Any person of ordinary intelligence can have little difficulty
in comprehending the subject, shrouded as it is from the eye
of the world. But should he have any such difficulty, it will
be dispelled by his coming in contact with a Gipsy who has
the courage to own himself up to be a Gipsy. It is no argument
to maintain that the Gipsy race is not a race, because
its blood is mixed with other people. That can be
said of all the races of Western Europe, the English more
especially; and, in a much greater degree, of that of the
United States of America. Every Gipsy has part of the
Gipsy blood, and more or less of the words and signs; which,
taken in connection with the rearing of Gipsies, act upon
his mind in such a manner, that he is penetrated with the
simple idea that he is a Gipsy; and create that distinct feeling
of nationality which the matters of territory, and sometimes
dialect, government, and laws, do with most of other
races. Take a Gipsy from any country in the world you
may, and the feeling of his being a Gipsy comes as naturally
to him as does the nationality of a Jew to a Jew; although
we will naturally give him a more definite name, to distinguish
him; such as an English, Welsh, Scotch, or Irish
Gipsy, or by whatever country of which the Gipsy happens
to be a native.
But I am afraid that what has been said is not sufficiently
explanatory to enable some people to understand this subject.
These people know what a Gipsy, in the popular sense,
means; they have either seen him, and observed his general
mode of life, or had the same described to them in books.
This idea of a Gipsy has been impressed upon their minds
almost from infancy. But it puzzles most people to form any
idea of a Gipsy of a higher order; such a Gipsy, for example,
as preaches the gospel, or argues the law: that seems,
hitherto, to have been almost incomprehensible to them.
They know intuitively what is meant by any particular people
who occupy a territory—any country, tract of land, or
isle. They also know what is meant by the existence of the
Jews. For the subject is familiar to them from infancy;
it is wrapt up in their early reading; it is associated with
the knowledge and practice of their religion, and the attendance,
on the part of the Jews, at a place of worship. They
have likewise seen and conversed with the Jews, or others
who have done either or both; or they are acquainted with
them by the current remarks of the world. But a people
resembling, in so many respects, the Jews, without having
any territory, or form of creed, peculiar to itself, or any history,
or any peculiar outward associations or residences, or
any material difference in appearance, character, or occupation,
is something that the general mind of mankind
would seem never to have dreamt of, or to be almost capable
of realizing to itself. We have already seen how a
writer in Blackwood’s Magazine gravely asserts, that, although
“Billy Marshall left descendants numberless, the race,
of which he was one, was in danger of becoming extinct;”
when, in fact, it had only passed from its first stage of existence—the
tent, into its second—tramping, without the
tent; and after that, into its ultimate stage—a settled life.
We have likewise seen how Sir Walter Scott imagines that
the Scottish Gipsies have decreased, since the time of
Fletcher, of Saltoun, about the year 1680, from 100,000 to
500, by “the progress of time, and encrease of the means of
life, and the power of the laws.” Mr. Borrow has not gone
one step ahead of these writers; and, although I naturally
enough excuse them, I am not inclined to let him go scot-free,
since he has set himself forward so prominently as an
authority on the Gipsy question.[297]
In explaining this subject, it is by no means necessary to
“crack an egg” for the occasion. There is doubtless a
“hitch,” but it is a hitch so close under our very noses, that
it has escaped the observation of the world. Still, the point
can be readily enough realized by any one. Take, for example,
the Walker family. Walker knows well enough who
his father, grandfather, and so forth were; and holds himself
to be a Walker. Is it not so with the Gipsies? What
is it but a question of “folk?” A question more familiar
to Scotch people than any other people. If one’s ancestors
were all Walkers, is not the present Walker still a Walker?
If such or such a family was originally of the Gipsy race, is
it not so still? How did Billy Marshall happen to be a
Gipsy? Was he a Gipsy because he lived in a tent? or,
did he live in a tent, like a Gipsy of the old stock? If Billy
was a Gipsy, surely Billy’s children must also have been
Gipsies!
The error committed by writers, with reference to the so-called
“dying-out” of the Gipsy race, arises from their not
distinguishing between the questions of race, blood, descent,
and language, and a style of life, or character, or mode of
making a living. Suppose that a native Scottish cobbler
should leave his last, and take to peddling, as a packman,
and ultimately settle again in a town, as a respectable tradesman.
On quitting “the roads,” he would cease to be a
packman; nor could his children after him be called packmen,
because the whole family were native Scotch from the
first; following the pack having been only the occupation of
the father, during part of his life. Should a company of
American youths and maidens take to the swamp, cranberrying
and gipsying, for a time, it could not be said that they
had become Gipsies; for they were nothing but ordinary
Americans. Should the society of Quakers dissolve into its
original elements, it would just be English blood quakerized,
returning to English blood before it was quakerized.
But it is astonishing that intelligent men should conceive,
and others retail, the ideas that have been expressed in regard
to the destiny of the Gipsy race. What avails the lessons
of history, or the daily experience of every family of
the land, the common sense of mankind, or the instinct of a
Hottentot, if no other idea of the fate of the Gipsy race can
be given than that referred to? Upon the principle of the
Gipsies “dying out,” by settling, and changing their habits,
it would appear that, when at home, in the winter, they were
not Gipsies; but that they were Gipsies, when they resumed
their habits, in the spring! On the same principle, it would
appear, that, if every Gipsy in the world were to disappear
from the roads and the fields, and drop his original habits,
there would be no Gipsies in the world, at all! What idea
can possibly be more ridiculous?[298]
It is better, however, to compare the Gipsy tribe in Scotland,
at the present day, to an ordinary clan in the olden
time; although the comparison falls far short of the idea.
We know perfectly well what it was to have been a member
of this or that clan. Sir Walter Scott knew well that
he was one of the Buccleuch clan, and a descendant of Auld
Beardie; so that he could readily say that he was a Scott.
Wherein, then, consists the difficulty in understanding what
a Scottish Gipsy is? Is it not simply that he is “one of
them;” a descendant of that foreign race of which we have
such notice in the treaty of 1540, between James V. and
John Faw, the then head of the Scottish Gipsy tribe? A
Scottish Gipsy has the blood, the words, and the signs, of
these men, and as naturally holds himself to be “one of
them,” as a native Scotchman holds himself to be one of his
father’s children. How, then, can a “change of habits”
prevent a man from being his father’s son? How could a
“change of habits” make a McGregor anything but a McGregor?
How could the effects of any just and liberal law
towards the McGregors lead to the decrease, and final extinction,
of the McGregors? Every man, every family,
every clan, and every people, are continually “changing
their habits,” but still remain the same people. It would be
a treat to have a treatise from Mr. Borrow upon the Gipsy
race “dying out,” by “changing its habits,” or by the acts
of any government, or by ideas of “gentility.”
I have already alluded to a resemblance between the position
of the Gipsy race, at the present day, and that of the
English and American races. Does any one say that the
English race is not a race? Or that the American is not a
race? And yet the latter is a compost of everything that
migrates from the Old World. But take some families, and
we will find that they are almost pure English, in descent,
and hold themselves to be actually such. But ask them if
they are English, and they will readily answer: “English?
No, siree!” The same principle holds still more with the
Gipsy race. It is not a question of country against country,
or government against government, separated by an ocean;
but the difference proceeds from a prejudice, as broad and
deep as the ocean, that exists between two races—the native,
and that of such recent introduction—dwelling in the same
community.
I have explained the effect which the mixing of native
blood with Gipsy has upon the Gipsy race, showing that it
only modifies its appearance, and facilitates its passing into
settled and respectable life. I will now substantiate the
principle from what is daily observed among the native race
itself. Take any native family—one of the Scotts, for example.
Let us commence with a family, tracing its origin
to a Scott, in the year 1600, and imagine that, in its descent,
every representative of the name married a wife of
another family, or clan, having no Scotts’ blood in her veins.
In the seventh descent, there would be only one one-hundred
and twenty-eighth part of the original Scott in the last representative
of the family. Would not the last Scott be a
Scott? The world recognizes him to be a Scott; he holds
himself to be a Scott—“every inch a Scott;” and doubtless
he is a Scott, as much as his ancestor who existed in the year
1600. What difficulty can there, therefore, be, in understanding
how a man can be a Gipsy, whose blood is mixed,
even “dreadfully mixed,” as the English Gipsies express it?
Gipsies are Gipsies, let their blood be mixed as much as it
may; whether the introduction of the native blood may
have come into the family through the male or the female
line.
In the descent of a native family, in the instance given,
the issue follows the name of the family. But, with the
Gipsy race, the thing to be transmitted is not merely a question
of family, but a race distinct from any particular family.
If a Gipsy woman marries into a native family, the issue
retains the family name of the husband, but passes into the
Gipsy tribe; if a Gipsy man marries into a native family,
the issue retains his name, in the general order of society,
and likewise passes into the Gipsy tribe; so that such
intermarriages, which almost invariably take place unknown
to the native race, always leave the issue Gipsy.
For the Gipsy element of society is like a troubled
spirit, which has been despised, persecuted, and damned;
cross it out, to appearance, as much as you may, it still
retains its Gipsy identity. It then assumes the form of
a disembodied spirit, that will enter into any kind of
tabernacle, in the manner described, dispel every other
kind of spirit, clean or unclean, as the case may be, and
come up, under any garb, colour, character, occupation, or creed—Gipsy.
It is perfectly possible, but not very probable, to
find a Gipsy a Jew, in creed, and, for the most part, in point
of blood, in the event of a Jew marrying a mixed Gipsy.
He might follow the creed of the Jewish parent, and be admitted
into the synagogue; but, although outwardly recognised
as a Jew, and having Jewish features, he would still
be a chabo; for there are Gipsies of all creeds, and, like
other people in the world, of no creed at all. But it is extremely
disagreeable to a Gipsy to have such a subject mentioned
in his hearing; for he heartily dislikes a Jew, and
says that no one has any “chance” in dealing with him. A
Gipsy likewise says, that the two races ought not to be mentioned
in the same breath, or put on the same footing, which
is very true; for reason tells us, that, strip the Gipsy of
every idea connected with “taking bits o’ things,” and leading
a wild life, and there should be no points of enmity
between him and the ordinary native; certainly not that of
creed, which exists between the Jew and the rest of the
world, to which question I will by and by refer.
The subject of the Gipsies has hitherto been treated as a
question of natural history, only, in the same manner as we
would treat ant-bears. Writers have sat down beside them,
and looked at them—little more than looked at them—described
some of their habits, and reported their chaff. To
get to the bottom of the subject, it is necessary to sound the
mind of the Gipsy, lay open and dissect his heart, identify
one’s self with his feelings, and the bearings of his ideas,
and construct, out of these, a system of mental science, based
upon the mind of the Gipsy, and human nature generally.
For it is the mind of the Gipsy that constitutes the Gipsy;
that which, in reference to its singular origin and history,
is, in itself, indestructible, imperishable and immortal.
Consider, then, this race, which is of such recent introduction
upon the stage of the European world, of such a singular
origin and history, and of such universal existence,
with such a prejudice existing against it, and the merest
impulse of reflection, apart from the facts of the case, will
lead us to conclude, that, as it has settled, it has remained
true to itself, in the various associations of life. In whatever
position, or under whatever circumstances, it is to be
found, it may be compared, in reference to its past history,
to a chain, and the early Gipsies, to those who have charged
it with electricity. However mixed, or however polished,
the metal of the links may have since become, they have always
served to convey the Gipsy fluid to every generation
of the race. It is even unnecessary to enquire, particularly,
how that has been accomplished, for it is self-evident that
the process which has linked other races to their ancestry,
has doubly linked the Gipsy race to theirs. Indeed, the
idea of being Gipsies never can leave the Gipsy race. A
Gipsy’s life is like a continual conspiracy towards the rest
of the world; he has always a secret upon his mind, and,
from his childhood to his old age, he is so placed as if he
were, in a negative sense, engaged in some gunpowder plot,
or as if he had committed a crime, let his character be as
good as it possibly may. Into whatever company he may
enter, he naturally remarks to himself: “I wonder if there
are any of us here.” That is the position which the mixed
and better kind of Gipsy occupies, generally and passively.
Of course, there are some of the race who are always
actually hatching some plot or other against the rest of the
world. Take a Gipsy of the popular kind, who appears as
such to the world, and there are two ideas constantly before
him—that of the Gorgio and Chabo: they may slumber
while he is in his house, or in his tent, or when he is asleep,
or his mind is positively occupied with something; but let
any one come near him, or him meet or accost any one, and
he naturally remarks, to himself, that the person “is not one
of us,” or that he “is one of us.” He knows well what the
native may be thinking or saying of him, and he as naturally
responds in his own mind. This circumstance of itself, this
frightful prejudice against the individual, makes, or at least
keeps, the Gipsy wild; it calls forth the passion of resentment,
and produces a feeling of reckless abandon, that might
otherwise leave him. To that is to be added the feeling, in
the Gipsy’s mind, of his race having been persecuted, for he
knows little of the circumstances attending the origin of the
laws passed against his tribe, and attributes them to persecution
alone. He considers that he has a right to travel;
that he has been deprived of rights to travel, which were
granted to his tribe by the monarchs of past ages; and,
moreover, that his ancestors—the “ancient wandering Egyptians”—always
travelled. He feels perfectly independent of,
and snaps his fingers at, everybody; and entertains a profound
suspicion of any one who may approach him, inasmuch
as he imagines that the stranger, however fair he may speak
to him, has that feeling for him, as if he considered it pollution
to touch him. But he is very civil and plausible when
he is at home.
It is from such material that all kinds of settled Gipsies,
at one time or other, have sprung. Such is the prejudice
against the race, that, if they did not hide the fact of their
being Gipsies from the ordinary natives, they would hardly
have the “life of a dog” among them, because of their having
sprung from a race which, in its original state, has been
persecuted, and so much despised. By settling in life, and
conforming with the ways of the rest of the community, they
“cease to be Gipsies,” in the estimation of the world; for
the world imagines that, when the Gipsy conforms to its
ways, there is an end of his being a Gipsy. Barring the
“habits,” such a Gipsy is as much a Gipsy as before, although
he is one incog. The wonder is not that he and his
descendants should be Gipsies; but the real wonder is, that
they should not be Gipsies. Neither he nor his descendants
have any choice in the matter. Does the settled Gipsy keep
a crockery or tin establishment, or an inn, or follow any
other occupation? Then his children cannot all follow the
same calling; they must betake themselves to the various
employments open to the community at large, and, their
blood being mixed, they become lost to the general eye,
amid the rest of the population. While this process is
gradually going on, the Gipsy population which always remains
in the tent—the hive from which the tribe swarms—attracts
the attention of the public, and prevents it from
thinking anything about the matter. In England, alone, we
may safely assume that the tented Gipsy population, about
the commencement of this century, must have encreased at
least four-fold by this time, while, to the eye of the public, it
would appear that “the Gipsies are gradually decreasing, so
that, by and by, they will become extinct.”
The world, generally, has never even thought about this
subject. When I have spoken to people promiscuously in
regard to it, they have replied: “We suppose that the Gipsies,
as they have settled in life, have got lost among the
general population:” than which nothing can be more unfounded,
as a matter of fact, or ridiculous, as a matter of
theory. Imagine a German family settling in Scotland.
The feeling of being Germans becomes lost in the first generation,
who do not, perhaps, speak a word of German.
There is no prejudice entertained for the family, but, on the
contrary, much good-will and respect are shown it by its
neighbours. The parents identify themselves with those
surrounding them; the children, born in the country, become,
or rather are, Scotch altogether; so that all that remains
is the sense of a German extraction, which, but for
the name of the family, would very soon be lost, or become
a mere matter of tradition. In every other respect, the family,
sooner or later, becomes lost amid the general population.
In America, we daily see Germans getting mixed with, and
lost among, Americans; but where is the evidence of such
a process going on, or ever having taken place, in Great
Britain, between the Gipsy and the native races? The
prejudice which the ordinary natives have for the very name
of Gipsy is sufficient proof that the Gipsy tribe has not been
lost in any such manner. Still, it has not only got mixed,
but “dreadfully mixed,” with the native blood; but it
has worked up the additional blood within itself, having
thoroughly gipsyfied it. The original Gipsy blood may be
compared to liquid in a vessel, into which native liquid has
been put: the mixture has, as a natural consequence, lost,
in a very great measure, its original colour; but, inasmuch
as the most important element in the amalgamation has been
mind, the result is, that, in its descent, it has remained, as
before, Gipsy. Instead, therefore, of the Gipsies having
become lost among the native population, a certain part of
the native blood has been lost among them, greatly adding
to the number of the body.
We cannot institute any comparison between the introduction
of the Gipsies and the Huguenots, the last body of
foreigners that entered Great Britain, relative to the destiny
of the respective foreign elements. For the Huguenots were
not a race, as distinguished from every other creature in the
world, but a religious party, taking refuge among a people
of cognate blood and language, and congenial religious feelings
and faith; and were, to say the least of it, on a par, in
every respect, with the ordinary natives, with nothing connected
with them to prevent an amalgamation with the
other inhabitants; but, on the contrary, having this characteristic,
in common with the nations of Europe, that the
place of birth constitutes the fact, and, taken in connection
with the residence, creates the feelings of nationality and
race. Many of my readers are, doubtless, conversant with
the history of the Huguenots. Even in some parts of
America, nothing is more common than for people to say
that they are Huguenots, that is, of Huguenot descent,
which is very commonly made the foundation of the connections
and intimate associations of life. The peculiarity
is frequently shown in the appearance of the individuals, and
in such mental traits as spring from the contemplation of
the Huguenots as an historical and religious party, even
when the individual now follows the Catholic faith. But
these people differ in no essential respect from the other
inhabitants.
But how different is the position always occupied by the
Gipsies! Well may they consider themselves “strangers
in the land;” for by whom have they ever been acknowledged?
They entered Scotland, for example, and have
encreased, progressed, and developed, with so great a prejudice
against them, and so separated in their feelings from
others around them, as if none had almost existed in the
country but themselves, while they were “dwelling in the
midst of their brethren;” the native blood that has been
incorporated with them having the appearance as if it had
come from abroad. They, a people distinct from any other
in the world, have sprung from the most primitive stage of
human existence—the tent, and their knowledge of their
race goes no further back than when it existed in other
parts of the world, in the same condition, more or less, as
themselves. They have been a migratory tribe, wherever
they have appeared or settled, and have never ceased to be
the same peculiar race, notwithstanding the changes which
they have undergone; and have been at home wherever they
have found themselves placed. The mere place of birth, or
the circumstance under which the individual has been
reared, has had no effect upon their special nationality,
although, as citizens of particular countries, they have assimilated,
in their general ideas, with others around them.
And not only have they had a language peculiar to themselves,
but signs as exclusively theirs as are those of Freemasons.
For Gipsies stand to Gipsies as Freemasons to
Freemasons; with this difference—that Masons are bound to
respond to and help each other, while such associations,
among the Gipsies, are optional with the individual, who,
however, is persuaded that the same people, with these exclusive
peculiarities, are to be met with in every part of the
world. A Gipsy is, in his way, a Mason born, and, from his
infancy, is taught to hide everything connected with his race,
from those around him. He is his own tyler, and tyles his
lips continually. Imagine, then, a person taught, from his
infancy, to understand that he is a Gipsy; that his blood, (at
least part of it,) is Gipsy; that he has been instructed in the
language, and initiated in all the mysteries, of the Gipsies;
that his relations and acquaintances in the tribe have undergone
the same experience; that the utmost reserve towards
those who are not Gipsies has been continually inculcated
upon him, and as often practised before his eyes; and what
must be the leading idea, in that person’s mind, but that he
is a Gipsy? His pedigree is Gipsy, his mind has been cast
in a Gipsy mould, and he can no more “cease to be a Gipsy”
than perform any other impossibility in nature. Thus it is
that Gipsydom is not a work of man’s hand, nor a creed,
that is “revealed from faith to faith;” but a work which has
been written by the hand of God upon the heart of a family
of mankind, and is reflected from the mind of one generation
to that of another. It enters into the feelings of the very
existence of the man, and such is the prejudice against his
race, on the part of the ordinary natives, that the better
kind of Scottish Gipsy feels that he, and more particularly
she, would almost be “torn in pieces,” if the public really
knew all about them.
These facts will sufficiently illustrate how a people, “resembling,
in so many respects, the Jews, without having any
territory, or form of creed, peculiar to itself, or any history,
or any peculiar outward associations or residences, or any
material difference in appearance, character, or occupation,”
can be a people, living among other people, and yet be distinct
from those among whom they live. The distinction
consists in this people having blood, language, a cast of mind,
and signs, peculiar to itself; the three first being the only
elements which distinguish races; for religion is a secondary
consideration; one religion being common to many distinct
races. This principle, which is more commonly applied to
people occupying different countries, is equally applicable to
races, clans, families, or individuals, living within the
boundary of a particular country, or dwelling in the same
community. We can easily understand how two individuals
can be two distinct individuals, notwithstanding their being
members of the same family, and professing the same religion.
We can still more easily understand the same of two families,
and still more so of two septs or clans of the same general
race. And, surely, there can be no difficulty in understanding
that the Gipsy tribe, whatever may be its habits, is
something different from any native tribe: for it has never
yet found rest for the sole of its foot among the native race,
although it has secured a shelter clandestinely; and of the
extent, and especially of the nature, of its existence, the
world may be said to be entirely ignorant. The position
which the Gipsy race occupies in Scotland is that which it
substantially occupies in every other country—unacknowledged,
and, in a sense, damned, everywhere. There is, therefore,
no wonder that it should remain a distinct family
among mankind, cemented by its language and signs, and
the knowledge of its universality. The phenomenon rests
upon purely natural causes, and differs considerably from
that of the existence of the Jews. For the Jews are, everywhere,
acknowledged by the world, after a sort; they have
neither language nor, as far as I know, signs peculiar to
themselves, (although there are secret orders among them,)
but possess the most ancient history, an original country, to
which they, more or less, believe they will be restored, and
a religion of divine origin, but utterly superseded by a
new and better dispensation. Notwithstanding all that, the
following remark, relative to the existence of the Jews, since
the dispersion, may very safely be recalled: “The philosophical
historian confesses that he has no place for it in all
his generalizations, and refers it to the mysteries of Providence.”
For the history of the Gipsies bears a very great
resemblance to it; and, inasmuch as that is not altogether
“the device of men’s hands,” it must, also, be referred to
Providence, for Providence has a hand in everything.
It is very true that the “philosophical historian has no
place, in all his generalizations, for the phenomenon of the
existence of the Jews, since the dispersion,” for he has never
investigated the subject inductively, and on its own merits.
It is poor logic to assert that, because the American Indians
are, to a great extent, and will soon be, extinct, therefore
the existence of the Jews, to-day, is a miracle. And it would
be nearly as poor logic to maintain the same of the Jews in
connection with any of the ancient and extinct nations.
There is no analogy between the history of the Jews, since
the dispersion, and that of any other people, (excepting the
Gipsies;) and, consequently, no comparison can be instituted
between them.[299] Before asking how it is that the Jews exist
to-day, it would be well to enquire by what possible process
they could cease to be Jews. And by what human means
the Jews, as a people, or even as individuals, will receive
Christ as their Messiah, and thereby become Christian
Jews. This idea of the Jews existing by a miracle has
been carried to a very great length, as the following quotation,
from an excellent writer, on the Evidences of Christianity,
will show: “What is this,” says he, “but a miracle?
connected with the prophecy which it fulfills, it is a double
miracle. Whether testimony can ever establish the credibility
of a miracle is of no importance here. This one is
obvious to every man’s senses. All nations are its eye-witnesses. . . . .
The laws of nature have been suspended
in their case.” This writer, in a spirit of gambling, stakes
the whole question of revelation upon his own dogma; and,
according to his hypothesis, loses it. The laws of nature
would, indeed, have been suspended, in their case, and a
miracle would, indeed, have been wrought, if the Jews had
ceased to be Jews, or had become anything else than what
they are to-day. Writers on the Christian Evidences should
content themselves with maintaining that the Jews have
fulfilled the prophecies, and will yet fulfill them, and assert
nothing further of them.
The writer alluded to compares the history of the Jews,
since the dispersion, to the following phenomenon: “A
mighty river, having plunged, from a mountain height, into
the depths of the ocean, and been separated into its component
drops, and thus scattered to the ends of the world,
and blown about, by all winds, during almost eighteen centuries,
is still capable of being disunited from the waters of
the ocean; its minutest drops, never having been assimilated
to any other, are still distinct, unchanged, and ready to be
gathered.” Such language cannot be applied to the Jews;
for the philosophy of their existence, to-day, is so very simple
in its nature, as to have escaped the observation of mankind.
I will give it further on in this Disquisition. The
language in question is somewhat applicable to the Gipsies,
for they have become worked into all other nations, in regard
to blood and language, and are “still distinct and
unchanged,” as to their being Gipsies, whatever their habits
may be; and, although there is no occasion for them to be
“gathered,” they would yet, outwardly or inwardly, heartily
respond to any call addressed to them.[300]
There is, as I have already said, no real outward difference
between many settled and educated Scottish Gipsies and
ordinary natives; for such Gipsies are as likely to have fair
hair and blue eyes, as black. Their characters and occupations
may be the same; they may have intimate associations
together; may be engaged in business as partners; may
even be cousins, nay, half-brothers. But let them, on
separate occasions, enter a company of Gipsies, and the reception
shown to them will mark the difference in the two
individuals. The difference between two such Scotchmen,
(for they really are both Scotch,) the reader may remark,
makes the Gipsy only a Gipsy nominally, which, outwardly,
he is; but he is still a Gipsy, although, in point of colour,
character, or condition, not one of the old stock; for he has
“the blood,” and has been reared and instructed as a Gipsy.
But such a Gipsy is not fond of entering a company of Gipsies,
strangers to him, unless introduced by a friend in whom
he has confidence, for he is afraid of being known to be a
Gipsy. He is more apt to visit some of the more original
kind of the race, where he is not known. On sitting down
beside them, with a friendly air, they will be sure to treat
him kindly, not knowing but that they may be entertaining
a Gipsy unawares; for such original Gipsies, believing that
“the blood” is to be found well up in life, feel very curious
when they meet with such a person. If he “lets out” an
idea in regard to the race, and expresses a kindly feeling
towards “the blood,” the suspicions of his friends are at
once excited, so that, if he, in an equivocal manner, remarks
that he is “not one of them,” hesitates, stammers, and protests
that he really is not one of them, they will as readily
swear that he is one of them; for well does the blackguard
Gipsy, (as the world calls him,) know the delicacy of such
settled and educated Gipsies in owning the blood. There
is less suspicion shown, on such occasions, when the settled
Gipsy is Scotch, and the bush Gipsy English; and particularly
so should the occasion be in America; for, when they meet in
America, away from the peculiar relations under which they
have been reared, and where they can “breathe,” as they express
it, the respective classes are not so suspicious of each other.
Besides the difference just drawn between the Gipsy and
ordinary native—that of recognizing and being recognized
by another Gipsy—I may mention the following general
distinction between them. The ordinary Scot knows that
he is a Scot, and nothing more, unless it be something about
his ancestors of two or three generations. But the Gipsy’s
idea of Scotland goes back to a certain time, indefinite to
him, as it may be, beyond which his race had no existence
in the country. Where his ancestors sojourned, immediately,
or at any time, before they entered Scotland, he cannot tell;
but this much he knows of them, that they are neither Scottish
nor European, but that they came from the East. The
fact of his blood being mixed exercises little or no influence
over his feelings relative to his tribe, for, mixed as it may
be, he knows that he is one of the tribe, and that the origin
of his tribe is his origin. In a word, he knows that he has
sprung from the tent. Substitute the word Scotch for Moor,
as related of the black African Gipsies, at page 429, and he
may say of himself and tribe: “We are not Scotch, but can
give no account of ourselves.” It is a little different, if the
mixture of his blood is of such recent date as to connect him
with native families; in that case, he has “various bloods”
to contend for, should they be assailed; but his Gipsy blood,
as a matter of course, takes precedence. By marrying into
the tribe, the connection with such native families gradually
drops out of the memory of his descendants, and leaves the
sensation of tribe exclusively Gipsy. Imagine, then, that
the Gipsy has been reared a Gipsy, in the way so frequently
described, and that he “knows all about the Gipsies,” while
the ordinary native knows really nothing about them; and
we have a general idea of what a Scottish Gipsy is, as distinguished
from an ordinary Scotchman. If we admit that
every native Scot knows who he is, we may readily assume
that every Scottish Gipsy knows who he is. But, to place
the point of difference in a more striking light, it may be
remarked, that the native Scot will instinctively exclaim,
that “the present work has no earthly relation either to
him or his folk;” while the Scottish Gipsy will as instinctively
exclaim: “It’s us, there’s no mistake about it;” and
will doubtless accept it, in the main, with a high degree of
satisfaction, as the history of his race, and give it to his
children as such.
A respectable, indeed, any kind of, Scottish Gipsy does
not contemplate his ancestors—the “Pilgrim Fathers,” and
“Pilgrim Mothers,” too—as robbers, although he could do
that with as much grace as any Highland or Border Scot,
but as a singular people, who doubtless came from the Pyramids;
and their language, as something about which he
really does not know what to think; whether it is Egyptian,
Sanscrit, or what it is. Still, he has part of it; he loves it;
and no human power can tear it out of his heart. He knows
that every intelligent being sticks to his own, and clings to
his descent; and he considers it his highest pride to be an
Egyptian—a descendant of those swarthy kings and queens,
princes and princesses, priests and priestesses, and, of course,
thieves and thievesses, that, like an apparition, found their
way into, and, after wandering about, settled down in, Scotland.
Indeed, he never knew anything else than that he
was an Egyptian; for it is in his blood; and, what is more,
it is in his heart, so that he cannot forget it, unless he should
lose his faculties and become an idiot; and then he would
be an Egyptian idiot. How like a Gipsy it was for Mrs.
Fall, of Dunbar, to “work in tapestry the principal events
in the life of the founder of her family, from the day the
Gipsy child came to Dunbar, in its mother’s creel, until the
same Gipsy child had become, by its own honourable exertions,
the head of the first mercantile establishment then
existing in Scotland.”
The Scottish Gipsies, when their appearance has been
modified by a mixture of the white blood, have possessed, in
common with the Highlanders, the faculty of “getting out”
of the original ways of their race, and becoming superior in
character, notwithstanding the excessive prejudice that
exists against the nation of which they hold themselves
members. Except his strong partiality for his blood and
tribe, language, and signs, such a Gipsy becomes, in his general
disposition and ways, like any ordinary native. It is
impossible that it should be otherwise. Whenever a Gipsy,
then, forsakes his original habits, and conforms with the
ways of the other inhabitants, he becomes, for all practical
purposes, an ordinary citizen of the Gipsy clan. If he is a
man of good natural abilities, the original wild ambition of
his race acquires a new turn; and his capacity fits him for
any occupation. Priding himself on being an Egyptian, a
member of this world-wide community, he acquires, as he
gains information, a spirit of liberality of sentiment; he
reads history, and perceives that every family of mankind
has not only been barbarous, but very barbarous, at one
time; and, from such reflections, he comes to consider his
own origin, and very readily becomes confirmed in his early,
but indistinct, ideas of his people, that they really are somebody.
Indeed, he considers himself not only as good, but
better than other people. His being forced to assume an
incognito, and “keep as quiet as pussy,” chafes his proud
spirit, but it does not render him gloomy, for his natural
disposition is too buoyant for that. How, then, does such a
Scottish Gipsy feel in regard to his ancestors? He feels
exactly as Highlanders do, in regard to theirs, or, as the
Scottish Borderers do, with reference to the “Border Ruffians,”
as I have heard a Gipsy term them. Indeed, the gallows
of Perth and Stirling, Carlisle and Jedburgh, could tell
some fine tales of many respectable Scottish people, in times
that are past.
The children of such a Gipsy differ very much from those
of the same race in their natural state, although they may
have the same amount of blood, and the same eye. The eye
of the former is subdued, for his passions, in regard to his
race, have never been called forth; while the eye of the latter
rolls about, as if he were conscious that every one he
meets with is remarking of him, “There goes a vagabond of
a Gipsy.” Two fine specimens of the former kind of Gipsies
attended the High School of Edinburgh, when I was at that institution.
Hearing the family frequently spoken of at home, my
attention was often taken up with the boys, without understanding
what a Gipsy of that kind could mean; although I
had a pretty good idea of the common Gipsy, or Tinkler, as
he is generally called in Scotland. These two young Gipsies
were what might be called sweet youths; modest and shy,
among the other boys, as young tamed wild turkeys; very
dark in colour, with an eye that could be caught in whatever
way I might look at them. They now occupy very
honourable positions in life. There were other Gipsies at the
High School, at this time, but they were of the “brown sort.”
I have met, in the United States, with a Scottish Gipsy,
taking greatly after the Gipsy, in his appearance; a man
very gentlemanly in his manner and bearing, and as
neat and trim as if he had “come out of a box.” It is natural,
indeed, to suppose that there must be a great difference,
in many respects, between a wild, original Gipsy,
and one of the tame and educated kind, whose descent
is several, perhaps many, generations from the tent. In
the houses of the former, things are generally found lying
about, here-away, there-away, as if they were just going
to be taken out and placed in the waggon, or on the ass’s
back.
It is certainly a singular position which is occupied, from
generation to generation, and century to century, by our settled
Scottish, as well as other, Gipsies, who are not known
to the world as such, yet maintain a daily intercourse with
others not of their own tribe. It resembles a state of semi-damnation,
with a drawn sword hanging over their heads,
ready to fall upon them at any moment. But the matter
cannot be mended. They are Gipsies, by every physical and
mental necessity, and they accommodate themselves to their
circumstances as they best may. This much is certain, that
they have the utmost confidence in their incognito, as regards
their descent, personal feelings, and exclusively private associations.
The word “Gipsy,” to be applied to them by
strangers, frightens them, in contemplation, far more than
it does the children of the ordinary natives; for they imagine
it a dreadful thing to be known to their neighbours as Gipsies.
Still, they have never occupied any other position;
they have been born in it, and reared in it; it has even
been the nature of the race, from the very first, always to
“work in the dark.” In all probability, it has never occurred
to them to imagine that it will ever be otherwise:
nor do they evidently wish it; for they can see no possible
way to have themselves acknowledged, by the world, as
Gipsies. The very idea horrifies them. So far from letting
the world know anything of them, as Gipsies, their constant
care is to keep it in perpetual darkness on the subject. Of
all men, these Gipsies may say:
“ ...... rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others we know not of.”
Indeed, the only thing that worries such a Gipsy is the
idea that the public should know all about him; otherwise,
he feels a supreme satisfaction in being a Gipsy; as well as
in having such a history of his race as I have informed him
I proposed publishing, provided I do not in any way mix him
up with it, or “let him out.” By bringing up the body in the
manner done in this work, by making a sweep of the whole
tribe, the responsibility becomes spread over a large number
of people; so that, should the Gipsy become, by any means,
known, personally, to the world, he would have the satisfaction
of knowing that he had others to keep him company;
men occupying respectable positions in life, and respected, by
the world at large, as individuals.
Here, then, we have one of the principal reasons for
everything connected with the Gipsies being hidden from
the rest of mankind. They have always been looked upon
as arrant vagabonds, while they have looked upon their ancestors
as illustrious and immortal heroes. How, then, are
we to bridge over this gulf that separates them, in feeling,
from the rest of the world? The natural reply is, that
we should judge them, not by their condition and character
in times that are past, but by what they are to-day.
That the Gipsies were a barbarous race when they entered
Europe, in the beginning of the fifteenth century, is just what
could have been expected of any Asiatic, migratory, tented
horde, at a time when the inhabitants of Europe were little
better than barbarous, themselves, and many of them absolutely
so. To speak of the Highland clans, at that time, as
being better than barbarous, would be out of the question;
as to the Irish people, it would be difficult to say what they
really were, at the same time. Even the Lowland Scotch, a
hundred years after the arrival of the Gipsies in Europe,
were, with some exceptions, divided into two classes—“beggars
and rascals,” as history tells us. Is it, therefore, unreasonable
to say, that, in treating of the Gipsies of to-day,
we should apply to them the same principles of judgment
that have been applied to the ordinary natives? If we refer
to the treaty between John Faw and James V., in 1540, we
will very readily conclude that, three centuries ago, the
leaders of the Gipsies were very superior men, in their way;
cunning, astute, and slippery Oriental barbarians, with the
experience of upwards of a century in European society
generally; well up to the ways of the world, and the general
ways of Church and State; and, in a sense, at home with
kings, popes, cardinals, nobility, and gentry. That was the
character of a superior Gipsy, in 1540. In 1840, we find
the race represented by as fine a man as ever graced the
Church of Scotland. “Grand was the repose of his lofty
brow, dark eye, and aspect of soft and melancholy meaning.
It was a face from which every evil and earthly passion
seemed purged. A deep gravity lay upon his countenance,
which had the solemnity, without the sternness, of one of
our old reformers. You could almost fancy a halo completing
its apostolic character.” Some of the Scottish Gipsies
of to-day could very readily exclaim:
“And, if thou said’st I am not peer
To any one in Scotland here,
Highland or Lowland, far or near,
Oh, Donald, thou hast lied!”
But it is impossible for any one to give an account of the
Gipsies in Scotland, from the year 1506, down to the present
time. This much, however, can be said of them, that they
are as much Gipsies now as ever they were; that is, the
Gipsies of to-day are the representatives of the race as it appeared
in Scotland three centuries and a half ago, and hold
themselves to be Gipsies now, as, indeed, they always will do.
Ever since the race entered Scotland, we may reasonably
assume that it has been dropping out of the tent into settled
life, in one form or other, and sometimes to a greater extent
at one time than another. It never has been a nomadic race,
in the proper sense of the word; for a nomad is one who
possesses flocks and herds, with which he moves about from
pasturage to pasturage, as he does in Asia to-day. Mr.
Borrow says that there are Gipsies who follow this kind of
life, in Russia; but that, doubtless, arises from the circumstances
in which they have found themselves placed.[301] “I
think,” said an English Gipsy to me, “that we must take
partly of the ancient Egyptians, and partly of the Arabs;
from the Egyptians, owing to our settled ways, and from the
Arabs, owing to our wandering habits.” Upon entering
Europe, they must have wandered about promiscuously, for
some short time, before pitching upon territories, which they
would divide among themselves, under their kings and chieftains.
Here we find the proper sphere of the Gipsy, in his
original state. In 1506, Anthonius Gawino is represented, by
James IV., to his uncle, the king of Denmark, as having
“sojourned in Scotland in peaceable and catholic manner:”
and John Faw, by James V., in 1540, during his “pilgrimage,”
as “doing a lawful business;” which evidently had
some meaning, as we find that seven pounds were paid to the
Egyptians by the king’s chamberlain. In 1496, the Gipsies
made musket-balls for the king of Hungary; and, in 1565,
cannon-balls for the Turks. In short, they were travelling
smiths, or what has since been called tinkers, with a turn for
any kind of ordinary mechanical employment, and particularly
as regards working in metals; dealers in animals, petty
traders, musicians, and fortune-tellers, with a wonderful
knack for “transferring money from other people’s pockets
into their own;” living representatively, but apparently not
wholly, in tents, and “helping themselves” to whatever they
stood in need of.[302]
Speaking of the Gipsy chiefs mentioned in the act of James
V., our author, as we have seen, very justly remarks: “It
cannot be supposed that the ministers of three or four succeeding
monarchs would have suffered their sovereigns to
be so much imposed on, as to allow them to put their names
to public documents styling poor and miserable wretches, as
we at the present day imagine them to have been, ‘Lords
and Earls of Little Egypt.’. . . . . I am disposed
to believe that Anthonius Gawino, in 1506, and John Faw, in
1540, would personally, as individuals, that is, as Gipsy
rajahs, have a very respectable and imposing appearance, in
the eyes of the officers of the crown.” (Page 108.)[303] We
have likewise seen how many laws were passed, by the Scots
parliament, against “great numbers of his majesty’s subjects,
of whom some outwardly pretend to be famous and unspotted
gentlemen,” for encouraging and supporting the Gipsies;
and, in the case of William Auchterlony, of Cayrine, for receiving
into their houses, and feasting them, their wives,
children, servants, and companies. All this took place
more than a hundred years after the arrival of the Gipsies in
Scotland, and seventy-six years after the date of the treaty
between James V. and John Faw. We can very readily
believe that the sagacity displayed by this chief and his
folk, to evade the demand made upon them to leave the
country, was likewise employed to secure their perpetual
existence in it; for, from the first, their intention was evidently
to possess it. Hence their original story of being
pilgrims, which would prevent the authorities from disturbing
them, but which had no effect upon Henry VIII., whom,
of all the monarchs of Europe, they did not hoax. Grellmann
mentions their having obtained passports from the
Emperor Sigismund, and other princes, as well as from the
king of France, and the Pope.
Entering Scotland with the firm determination to “possess”
the country, the Gipsies would, from the very first,
direct their attention towards its occupation, and draw into
their body much of the native blood, in the way which I
have already described. And there was certainly a large
floating population in the country, from which to draw it.
It would little consist with the feelings of Highland or Lowland
outlaws to exist without female society; nor was that
female society easily to be found, apart from some kind of
settled life; hence, in seeking for a home, which is inseparable
from the society of a female, our native outlaw would
very naturally and readily “haul up” with the Gipsy woman;
for, being herself quite “at home,” in her tent, she would
present just the desideratum which the other was in quest
of. For, although “Gipsies marry with Gipsies,” it is only
as a rule, the exceptions being many, and, in all probability,
much more common, in the early stage of their European
history. The present “dreadfully mixed” state of Gipsydom
is a sufficient proof of this fact. The aversion, on the
part of the Gipsy, to intermarry with the ordinary natives,
proceeds, in the first place, from the feelings which the natives
entertain for her race. Remove those feelings, and the
Gipsies, as a body, would still marry among themselves; for
their pride in their peculiar sept, and a natural jealousy of
those outside of their mystic circle, would, alone, keep the
world from penetrating their secrets, without its being extended
to him who, by intermarriage, became “one of them.”
There is no other obstacle in the way of marriages between
the two races, excepting the general one, on the part of the
Gipsies, and which is inherent in them, to preserve themselves
as a branch of a people to be found in every country.
Admitting the general aversion, on the part of the Gipsies,
to marry with natives, and we at once see the unlikelihood
of their women playing the wanton with them. Still, it is
very probable that they, in some instances, bore children to
some of the “unspotted gentlemen,” mentioned, by act of
parliament, as having so greatly protected and entertained
the tribe. Such illegitimate children would be put to good
service by the Gipsy chiefs. By one means or other, there
is no doubt but the Gipsies made a dead-set upon certain
native families of influence. The capacity that could devise
such a scheme for remaining in the country, as is contained
in the act of 1540, and influence the courts of the regency,
and of Queen Mary, to reinstate them in their old position,
after the severe order of 1541, proclaiming banishment
within thirty days, and death thereafter, even when the
“lords understood, perfectly, the great thefts and skaiths,
(damages,) done by the said Egyptians,” could easily execute
plans to secure a hold upon private families. If to all this
we add the very nature of Gipsydom; how it always remains
true to itself, as it gets mixed with the native blood; how it
works its way up in the world; and how its members “stick
to each other;” we can readily understand how the tribe
acquired important and influential friends in high places.
Do not speak of the attachment of the Jewess to her people:
that of the Gipsy is greater. A Jewess passes current, anywhere,
as a Jewess; but the Gipsy, as she gets connected
with a native circle, and moves about in the world, does so
clandestinely, for, as a Gipsy, she is incog.; so that her attachment
remains, at heart, with her tribe, and is all the
stronger, from the feelings that are peculiar to her singularly
wild descent. I am very much inclined to think that Mrs.
Baillie, of Lamington, mentioned under the head of Tweed-dale
and Clydesdale Gipsies, was a Gipsy; and the more so,
from having learned, from two different sources, that the
present Baillie, of ——, is a Gipsy. Considering that
courts of justice have always stretched a point, to convict,
and execute, Gipsies, it looks like something very singular, that
William Baillie, a Gipsy, who was condemned to death, in
1714, should have had his sentence commuted to banishment,
and been allowed to go at large, while others, condemned with
him, were executed. And three times did he escape in that
manner, till, at last, he was slain by one of his tribe. It
also seems very singular, that James Baillie, another Gipsy,
in 1772, should have been condemned for the murder of his
wife, and, also, had his sentence commuted to banishment,
and been allowed to go at large: and that twice, at least.
Well might McLaurin remark: “Few cases have occurred
in which there has been such an expenditure of mercy.”
And tradition states that “the then Mistress Baillie, of
Lamington, and her family, used all their interest in obtaining
these pardons for James Baillie.” No doubt of it. But
the reason for all this was, doubtless, different from that of
“James Baillie, like his fathers before him, pretending that
he was a bastard relative of the family of Lamington.”
A somewhat similar case of pardoning Gipsies is related
by a writer in Blackwood’s Magazine, as having occurred
towards the end of last century; the individual procuring
the pardon being the excitable Duchess of Gordon, the same,
I presume, whom Burns’ genius “fairly lifted off her feet.”
The following are the circumstances, as given by this writer:
A Berwickshire farmer had been missing sheep, and lay in
wait, one night, with a servant, for the depredators. They
seized upon Tam Gordon, the captain of the Spittal Gipsies,
and his son-in-law, Ananias Faa, in the very act of stealing
the sheep; when the captain drew a knife, to defend himself.
They were convicted and condemned for the crime;
“but afterwards, to the great surprise of their Berwickshire
neighbours, obtained a pardon, a piece of unmerited and ill-bestowed
clemency, for which, it was generally understood,
they were indebted to the interest of a noble northern family,
of their own name. We recollect hearing a sort of ballad
upon Tam’s exploits, and his deliverance from the gallows,
through the intercession of a celebrated duchess, but do not
recollect any of the words.”[304]
A transaction like this must strike the reader as something
very remarkable. Sheep-stealing, at the time mentioned,
was a capital offence, for which there was almost no
pardon; and more especially in the case of people who were
of notorious “habit and repute Gipsies,” caught in the very
act, which was aggravated by their drawing an “invasive
weapon.” Not only were they condemned, but we may
readily assume that the “country-side” were crying, “Hang
and bury the vagabonds;” and death seemed certain; when
in steps the duchess, and snatches them both from the very
teeth of the gallows. What guarantee have we that the
duchess was not a Gipsy? It certainly was not likely that
a Gipsy woman would step out of her tent, and seize a
coronet; but what cannot we imagine to have taken place,
in “the blood” working its way up, during the previous 250
years? What guarantee have we that Professor Wilson
was not “taking a look at the old thing,” when rambling
with the Gipsies, in his youth? There are Gipsy families in
Edinburgh, to-day, of as respectable standing, and of as good
descent, as could be said of him, or many others who have
distinguished themselves in the world.
We must not forget that, when the Gipsies entered Scotland,
it was for better or for worse, just for what was
to “turn up.” Very soon after their arrival, the country
would become their country, as much as that of the ordinary
natives; so that Scotland became their home, as much as if
it had always been that of their race, except their retaining
a tradition of their recent arrival from some part of the
East, and a singular sense of being part and parcel of “the
Egyptians that were scattered over the face of the earth;”
neither of which the odious prejudice against “the blood”
allowed them to forget; assuming that they were willing,
and, moreover, that the cast of their minds allowed
them, to do either. The idea which has been expressed by
the world, generally, of the Gipsy tribe gradually assimilating
with the native race, and ultimately “getting lost
among it,” applies to the principle at issue; for, as I have
already said, it has got greatly lost, in point of appearance,
and general deportment, among the ordinary natives, but has
remained, heart and soul, Gipsy, as before. Even with the
native race, we will find that the blood of the lowly is always
getting mixed with that in the higher circles of life. We
have the case of a girl going to service with a London brewer,
then becoming his wife, then his widow, then employing a
lawyer to manage her affairs, and afterwards marrying him,
who, in his turn, became Earl of Clarendon, and father, by
her, of the queen of James II. Towards the end of last, or
beginning of the present, century, we hear of a poor actress,
who commenced life in a provincial theatre, marrying one
of the Coutts, the bankers, and dying Duchess of St. Albans.
Such events have been of much more common occurrence in
less elevated spheres of life; and the Gipsy race has had its
share of them. For this reason, it is really impossible to
say, who, among the Scotch, are, and who are not, of the
Gipsy tribe; such a thorough mess has the “mixing of the
blood” made of the Scottish population. Notwithstanding
all that, there is a certain definite number of “Gipsies” in
Scotland, known to God only; while each Gipsy is known
in his or her conscience to belong to the tribe. This
much is certain, that we need not consult the census returns
for the number of the tribe in Scotland. However easy, or
however difficult, it may be, to define what a Gipsy, in regard
to external or internal circumstances, is, this much is
certain, that the feeling in his mind as to his being a Gipsy,
is as genuine and emphatic as is the feeling in the mind of
a Jew being a Jew.
The circumstances connected with the perpetuation of the
Gipsy and Jewish races greatly resemble each other. Both
races are scattered over the face of the earth. The Jew has
had a home; he has a strong attachment to it, and looks
forward to enter it at some future day. The Gipsy may be
said never to have had a home, but is at home everywhere.
“What part of England did you come from?” said I to an
English semi-tented Gipsy, in America. “What part of
England did I come from, did you say? I come from all
over England!” The Scottish race, as a race, is confined to
people born in Scotland; for the children of expatriated
Scots are not Scotchmen. And so it is with people of other
countries. The mere birth upon the soil constitutes their
race or nationality, although subsequent events, in early life,
may modify the feelings, or draw them into a new channel,
by a change of domicile, in infancy. But the Jew’s nationality
is everywhere; ‘tis in his family, and his associations
with others of his race. Make the acquaintance of the
Jews, and you will find that each generation of them tell
their “wonderful story” to the following generation, and
the story is repeated to the following, and the following.
The children of Jews are taught to know they are Jews, before
they can even lisp. Soon do they know that much of
the phenomenon of their race, as regards its origin, its history,
and its universality, to draw the distinction between
them and those around them who are not Jews. Soon do
they learn how their race has been despised and persecuted,
and imbibe the love which their parents have for it, and the
resentment of the odium cast upon it by others. It has been
so from the beginning of their history out of Palestine, and
even while there. Were it only religion, considered in itself,
that has kept the Jews together as a people, they might
have got lost among the rest of mankind; for among the
Jews there are to be found the rankest of infidels; even
Jewish priests will say that, “it signifies not what a man’s
religion may be, if he is only sincere in it.” Is it a feeling,
or a knowledge, of religion that leads a Jewish child, almost
the moment it can speak, to say that it is a Jew? It is
simply the workings of the phenomena of race that account
for this; the religion peculiar to Jews having been introduced
among them centuries after their existence as a
people. Being exclusively theirs in its very nature, they
naturally follow it, as other people do theirs; but, although,
from the nature of its origin, it presents infinitely greater
claims upon their intelligent belief and obedience, they have
yielded no greater submission to its spirit and morals, or
even to its forms, than many other people have done to their
religion, made up, as that has been, of the most fabulous
superstition, on the principle, doubtless, that
“The zealous crowds in ignorance adore,
And still, the less they know, they fear the more.”
The Jews being a people before they received the religion
by which they are distinguished, it follows that the religion,
in itself, occupies a position of secondary importance, although
the profession of it acts and reacts upon the people,
in keeping them separate from others. The most, then, that
can be said of the religion of the Jews is, that, following in
the wake of their history as a people, it is only one of the pillars
by which the building is supported.[305] If enquiry is made
of Jewish converts to Christianity, we will find that, notwithstanding
their having separated from their brethren,
on points of creed, they hold themselves as much Jews as
before. But the conversions of Jews are,
“Like angels’ visits, few and far between.”
In the case of individuals forsaking the Jewish, and joining
the Christian, Church, that is, believing in the Messiah
having come, instead of to come, it is natural, I may say
inevitable, for them to hold themselves Jews. They have
feelings which the world cannot understand. But beyond
the nationality, physiognomy, and feelings of Jews, there
are no points of difference, and there ought to be no
grounds of offense, between them and the ordinary inhabitants.
While the points of antipathy between the Jew
and Christian rest, not upon race, considered in itself, but
mainly upon religion, and the relations proceeding from it,
it has to be seen what is to be the feeling, on the part of
the world, towards the Gipsy race; such part of it, at least,
whose habits are unexceptionable. This is one of the questions
which it is the object of this Disquisition to bring to
an issue.
Substitute the language and signs of the Gipsies for the
religion of the Jews, and we find that the rearing of the
Gipsies is almost identical with that of the Jews; and in
the same manner do they hold themselves to be Gipsies.
But the one can be Gipsies, though ignorant of their language
and signs, and the other, Jews, though ignorant of
their religion; the mere sense of tribe and community being
sufficient to constitute them members of their respective
nationalities. The origin of the Gipsies is as distinct from
that of the rest of the world, in three continents, at least,
as is that of the Jews; and, laying aside the matter of religion,
their history, so far as it is known to the world, is as
different. If they have no religion peculiar to themselves,
to assist in holding them together, like the Jews, they have
that which is exclusively theirs—language and signs; about
which there are no such occasions to quarrel, as in the affair
of a religious creed. Indeed, the Gipsy race stands towards
religions, as the Christian religion does towards races.
People are very apt to speak of the blood of the Jews
being “purity itself;” than which nothing is more unfounded.
If a person were asked, What is a pure Jew? he would feel
puzzled to give an intelligent answer to the question. We
know that Abraham and Sarah were the original parents of
the Jewish race, but that much blood has been added to it,
from other sources, ever since. Even four of the patriarchs,
the third in descent from Abraham, were the sons of concubines,
who were, doubtless, bought with money, from the
stranger, (Gen. xvii. 12 and 13,) or the descendants of such,
and were, in all probability, of as different a race from their
mistresses, Leah and Rachel, as was the bondmaid, Hagar,
the Egyptian, from her mistress, Sarah. Joseph married a
daughter of the Egyptian priest of On, and Moses, a daughter
of an Ethiopian priest of Midian. From a circumstance
mentioned in the Exodus, it would appear that Egyptian
blood, perhaps much of it, had been incorporated with that
of the Jews, while in Egypt.[306] And much foreign blood
seems to have been added to the body, between the Exodus
and the Babylonian captivity, through the means of proselytes
and captives, strange women and bondmaids, concubines
and harlots. We read of Rahab, of Jericho, an innkeeper,
or harlot, or both, marrying Salmon, one of the chief
men in the tribe of Judah, and becoming the mother of
Boaz, who married Ruth, a Moabitish woman, the daughter-in-law
of Naomi, and grandmother of David, from whom
Christ was lineally descended. Indeed, the Jews have always
been receiving foreign blood into their body. We
read of Timothy having been a Greek by the father’s side,
and a Jew by the mother’s; and of his having been brought
up a Jew. Such events are of frequent occurrence. There
is no real bar to marriages between Jews and Christians,
although circumstances render them difficult. The children
of such marriages sometimes resemble the Jew, and sometimes
the Christian; sometimes they cast their lot with
the Jews, in the matter of religion, and sometimes with the
Christians; but they generally follow the mother in that
matter. Such, however, is the conceit which the Jew displays
in regard to his race, that he is very reserved in
speaking about this “mixing of the blood.” I once addressed
a string of questions to a Christian-Jew preacher,
on this subject, but he declined answering them. I am intimate
with a family the parents of which are half-blood
Jews, all of whom belong to the Jewish connexion, and I
find that, notwithstanding the mixture of the blood, there is
as little mental difference between them and the other Jews,
as there is between Americans of six descents, by both sides
of the house, and Americans whose descent, through one
parent, goes as far back, while, through the other parent, it
is from abroad. Purity of blood, as applicable to almost
any race, and, among others, to the Jewish, is a figment.
There are many Jews in the United States, and, doubtless,
in other countries, who are not known to other people as
Jews, either by their appearance or their attendance at the
synagogue. As a general principle, no Jew will tell the
world that he belongs to the race; he leaves that to be
found out by other people. Sir J. Gardner Wilkinson says
that the Jews of the East, to this day, often have red hair
and blue eyes, and are quite unlike their brethren in Europe.
He found the large nose at Jerusalem an invariable proof
of mixture with a Western family. It is singular, however,
how easy it is to detect the generality of Jews; the nose,
the eyes, or the features, tell who they are, but not always
so. What may be termed a “pure Jew,” is when the person
has no knowledge of any other blood being in his veins
than Jewish blood; or when his feelings are entirely Jewish
as to nationality, although his creed may not be very
strongly Jewish.
I will now consider the relative positions which the Jews
and Gipsies occupy towards the rest of mankind. I readily
admit that, in their original and wild state, the Gipsies have
not been of any use to the world, but, on the contrary, a
great annoyance. Still, that cannot be said altogether; for
the handy turn of the Gipsies in some of the primitive mechanical
arts, and their dealing in various wares, have been,
in a measure, useful to a certain part of the rural population;
and themselves the sources of considerable amusement; but,
taking everything into account, they have been decidedly
annoying to the world generally. In their wild state, they
have never been charged by any one with an outward contempt
for religion, whatever their inward feelings may have
been for it; but, on the contrary, as always having shown
an apparent respect for it. No one has ever complained of
the Gipsy scoffing at religion, or even for not yielding to its
general truths; what has been said of him is, that he is, at
heart, so heedless and volatile in his disposition, that everything
in regard to religion passes in at the one ear, and goes
out at the other. There are, doubtless, Gipsies who will be
“unco godly,” when they can make gain by it; but it more
frequently happens that they will assume such an air, in the
presence of a person of respectable appearance, to show him
that they are really not the “horrible vagabonds” which,
they never doubt, he holds them to be. They are then sure
to overdo their part. As a general thing, they wish people
to believe that “they are not savages, but have feelings like
other people,” as “Terrible” expressed it. This much is certain,
that whenever the Gipsy settles, and acquires an incognito,
we hear of little or nothing of the canting in question.
As regards the question of religion, it is very fortunate
for the Gipsy race that they brought no particular one
with them; for, objectionable as they have been held to be,
the feeling towards them would have been worse, if they had
had a system of priestcraft and heathen idolatry among
them. But this circumstance greatly worries a respectable
Gipsy; he would much rather have it said that his ancestors
had some sort of religion, than that they none. It is
generally understood that the Gipsies did not bring any particular
religion with them; still, the ceremony of sacrificing
horses at divorces, and, at one time, at marriages, has a
strange and unaccountable significance.
Then, as regards the general ways of the Gipsies. If we
consider them as those of a people who have emerged, or
are emerging, from a state of barbarism, how trifling, how
venial do they appear! Scotch people have suffered, in
times past, far more at the hands of each other, than ever
they knowingly did at the hands of the Gipsies. What was
the nature of that system of black-mail which was levied by
Highland gentlemen upon Southerners? Was it anything
but robbery? So common, so unavoidable was the payment
of black-mail, that the law had to wink at it, nay, regulate
it. But after all, it was nothing but compounding for that
which would otherwise have been stolen. It gave peace
and security to the farmer, and a revenue to the Highland
gentleman, whom it placed in the position of a nominal protector,
but actually prevented from being a robber, in law or
morals; for, let the payment of the black-mail but have been
refused, and, perhaps the next day, the Southerner would
have been ruined; so that the Highland gentleman would
have obtained his rights, under any circumstances. For
Highland people, by a process of reasoning peculiar to a
people in a barbarous state, held, as we have seen, that they
had a right to rob the Lowlanders, whenever it was in their
power, and that two hundred years after the Gipsies entered
Scotland.
Scottish Gipsies are British subjects, as much as either
Highland or Lowland Scots; their being of foreign origin
does not alter the case; and they are entitled to have that
justice meted out to them that has been accorded to the ordinary
natives. They are not a heaven-born race, but they
certainly found their way into the country, as if they had
dropped into it out of the clouds. As a race, they have that
much mystery, originality, and antiquity about them, and
that inextinguishable sensation of being a branch of the
same tribe everywhere, that ought to cover a multitude of
failings connected with their past history. Indeed, what we
do know of their earliest history is not nearly so barbarous
as that of our own; for we must contemplate our own ancestors,
at one time, as painted and skin-clad barbarians.
What we do know, for certainty, of the earliest history of
the Scottish Gipsies, is contained, more particularly, in the
Act of 1540; and we would naturally say, that, for a people
in a barbarous state, such is the dignity and majesty, with
all the roguishness, displayed in the conduct of the Gipsies
of that period, one could hardly have a better, certainly not
a more romantic, descent; provided the person whose descent
it is is to be found amid the ranks of Scots, with
talents, a character, and a position equal to those of others
around him. For this reason, it must be said of the race,
that whenever it shakes itself clear of objectionable habits,
and follows any kind of ordinary industry, the cause of every
prejudice against it is gone, or ought to disappear; for then,
as I have already said, the Gipsies became ordinary citizens,
of the Gipsy clan. It then follows, that in passing a fair
judgment upon the Gipsy race, we ought to establish a principle
of progression, and set our minds upon the best specimens
of it, as well as the worst, and not judge of it, solely,
from the poorest, the most ignorant, or the most barbarous
part of it.[307]
What shall we say further of the relative positions which
the Jews and Gipsies occupy towards the rest of the world?
In the first place, the Jews entered Europe a civilized, and
the Gipsies a barbarous, people; so that, in instituting any
comparison between them, we should select Gipsies occupying
positions in life similar to those of the Jews. The settled
Scottish Gipsy, we find, appears to the eye of the world as
a Scotchman, and nothing more. It is the weak position
which the Gipsy race occupies in the world, as it enters upon
a settled life, and engages in steady pursuits, that compels it
to assume an incognito; for it has nothing to appeal to, as
regards the past; no history, except it be acts of legislation
passed against the race. In looking into a Dictionary or a
Cyclopædia, the Gipsy finds his race described as vagabonds,
always as vagabonds; and he may be said never to have
heard a good word spoken of it, during the whole of his life.
Hence he and his descendants “keep as quiet as pussy,” and
pass from the observation of the world. Besides this, there
is no prominent feature connected with his race, to bring it
before the world, such as there is with the Jewish, viz., history,
church, or literature. A history, the Gipsy, as we see,
doubtless has; but anything connected with him, pertaining
to the church or literature, he holds as a member of ordinary
society. Still, it would not be incorrect to speak of Gipsy
literature, as the work of a Gipsy, acquired from the sources
common to other men; as we would say of the Jews, relative
to the literature which they produce under similar circumstances.
As to the Gipsy to whom I have alluded, it may
be said that it is none of our business whether he is a Gipsy
or not; there is certainly no prejudice against him as an
individual, and there can be none as a Gipsy, except such as
people may of their own accord conceive for him. Many of
the Scottish Gipsies whom I have met with are civil enough,
sensible enough, decent enough, and liberal and honourable
enough in their conduct; decidedly well bred for their positions
in life, and rather foolish and reckless with their
means, than misers; and, generally speaking, what are called
“good fellows.” It is no business of mine to ask them, how
long it is since their ancestors left the tent, or, indeed, if
they even know when that occurred; and still less, if they
know when any of them ever did anything that was contrary
to law. Still, one feels a little irksome in such a Gipsy’s
company, until the Gipsy question has been fairly brought
before the world, and the point settled, that a Gipsy may be
a gentleman, and that no disparagement is necessarily connected
with the name, considered in itself. Such Scottish
Gipsies as I have mentioned are decidedly smart, and, Yankee-like,
more adaptable in turning their hands to various
employments, than the common natives; and are a fair credit
to the country they come from, and absolutely a greater than
many of the native Scotch that are to be met with in the
New World. Let the name of Gipsy be as much respected,
in Scotland, as it is now despised, and the community would
stare to see the civilized Gipsies make their appearance;
they would come buzzing out, like bees, emerging even from
places where a person, not in the secret, never would have
dreamt of.
If we consider, in a fair and philosophical manner, the
origin of these people, we will find many excuses for the
position which their ancestors have occupied. They were a
tribe of men wandering upon the face of the earth, over
which they have spread, as one wave follows and urges on
another. Those that appeared in Europe seem to have been
impelled, in their migration, by the same irresistible impulse;
to say nothing of the circumstances connected with
their coming in contact with the people whose territories
they had invaded. No one generation could be responsible
for the position in which it found itself placed. In the case
of John Faw and his company, we find that, being on the
face of the earth, they had to go somewhere, and invent
some sort of excuse, to secure a toleration; and the world
was bound to yield them a subsistence, of some kind, and in
some way obtained. As a wandering, barbarous, tented
tribe, with habits peculiar to itself, and inseparable from its
very nature, great allowance ought to be made for the time
necessary for its gradual absorption into settled society.
That could only be the result of generations, even if the race
had not been treated so harshly as it has been, or had such
a prejudice displayed against it. The difficulties which a
Gipsy has to encounter in leaving the tent are great, for he
has been born in that state, and been reared in it. To
leave his tent forever, and settle in a town, is a greater
trial to the innate feelings of his nature, than would be the
change from highly polished metropolitan life to a state
of solitude, in a society away from everything that had
hitherto made existence bearable. But the Gipsy will very
readily leave his tent, temporarily, to visit a town, if it is to
make money. It is astonishing how strong the circumstances
are which bind him to his tent; even his pride and
prejudices in being a “wandering Egyptian,” will, if it is
possible to live by the tent, bind him to it. Then, there is
the prejudice of the world—the objection to receive him into
any community, and his children into any school—that commonly
prevails, and which compels him to steal into settled
life. It has always been so with the Gipsy race. Gipsies
brought up in the tent have the same difficulties to encounter
in leaving it to-day, that others had centuries ago. But,
notwithstanding all that, they are always keeping moving
out of the tent, and becoming settled and civilized.
Tented Gipsies will naturally “take bits o’ things;” many
of them would think one simple if he thought they would
not do it; some of them would even be insulted if he said
they did not do it. After they leave the tent, and commence
“tramping,” they (I do not say all of them) will still
“take bits o’ things.” From this stage of their history, they
keep gradually dropping into unexceptionable habits; and
particularly so if they receive education. But we can very
readily believe that, independent of every circumstance, there
will be Gipsies who, in a great measure, always will be
rogues. The law of necessity exercises a great influence
over the destiny of the Gipsy race; their natural encrease
is such, that, as they progress and develop, they are always
pushing others out of the sphere which those further advanced
occupy; so that it would not pay for all Gipsies to
be rogues. There is, therefore, no alternative left to the
Gipsy but to earn his bread like other men. If every Gipsy
actually “helped himself” to whatever he stood in need of,
it could hardly be said that the ordinary inhabitants would
have anything that they could really call their own. Notwithstanding
the manner how the Gipsies progress, or the
origin from which they spring, it is quite sufficient for me to
hold the race in respect, when I find them personally worthy
of it.
As a Scotchman, as a citizen of the world, whether should
my sympathies lay more with the Gipsies than with the
Jews? With the Gipsies, unquestionably. For, a race,
emerging from a state of barbarism, and struggling upwards
to civilization, surrounded by so many difficulties, as is the
Gipsy, is entitled to a world of charity and encouragement.
Of the Jews, who, though blessed with the most exalted
privileges, yet allowed themselves to be reduced to their
present fallen and degraded estate, it may be said:
“Ephraim is joined to his idols; let him alone.” The
Gipsies are, and have always been, a rising people, although
the world may be said to have known little of them hitherto.
The Gipsy, as he emerges from his wild state, makes ample
amends for his original offensiveness, by hiding everything
relative to his being a Gipsy from his neighbours around
him. In approaching one of this class, we should be careful
not to express that prejudice for him as a Gipsy, which we
might have for him as a man; for it is natural enough to
feel a dislike for many people whom we meet with, and
which, if the people were Gipsies, we might insensibly allow
to fall upon them, on account of tribe alone; so difficult is
it to shake one’s self clear of the prejudice of caste towards
the Gipsy name. The Gipsy has naturally a happy disposition,
which circumstances cannot destroy, however much
they may be calculated to sour it. In their original state,
they are, what Grellmann says of them, “always merry and
blithe;” not apt to be surly dogs, unless made such; and
are capable of considerable attachment, when treated civilly
and kindly, without any attempt being made to commiserate
them, and after an acquaintance has been fairly established
with them. But, what are properly called their affections
must, in the position which they occupy, always remain with
their tribe. As for the other part of the race—those whose
habits are unexceptionable—it is for us to convince them
that no prejudice is entertained for them on account of their
being Gipsies; but that it would rather be pleasing and interesting
for us to know something of them as Gipsies, that
is, about their feelings as Gipsies, and hear them talk some
of this language which they have, or are supposed to have.
But how different is the position which the Jews occupy
towards the rest of the world! They are, certainly, quiet
and inoffensive enough as individuals, or as a community;
whence, then, arises the dislike which most people have for
them? The Gipsies may be said to be, in a sense, strangers
amongst us, because they have never been acknowledged by
us; but the Jews are, to a certain extent, strangers under
any circumstances, and, more or less, look to entering Palestine
at some day, it may be this year, or the following. If
a Christian asks: “Who are the Jews, and what do they
here?” the reply is very plain: “They are rebels against
the Majesty of Heaven, and outcasts from His presence.”
They are certainly entitled to every privilege, social and
political, which other citizens enjoy; they have a perfect
right to follow their own religion; but other people have
an equal right to express their opinion in regard to it and
them.
The Jew is an enigma to the world, unless looked at
through the light of the Old and New Testaments. In
studying the history of the Jews, we will find very little
about them, as a nation, that is interesting, to the extent of
securing our affections, whatever may be said of some of the
members of it. What appears attractive, and, I may say,
of personal importance, to the Christian, in their history, is,
not what they have been or done, but what has been done
for them by God. “What more could I have done for my
vine than I have done?” And “Which of the prophets have
they not persecuted?” “Wherefore, behold! I send unto
you prophets, and wise men, and scribes; and some of them
ye shall kill and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge
in your synagogues, and persecute from city to city.” And
thus it always was. “Elias saith of them, Lord, they have
killed thy prophets, and digged down thine altars, and I am
left alone, and they seek my life.” Indeed, the whole history
of the Jews has given to infidels such occasion to rail
at revelation, as has caused no little annoyance to Christians.
What concerns the Christian in the Jewish history
is more particularly that which refers to the ways of God,
in preserving to Himself, in every generation, a seed who
did not bow the knee to Baal, till the appearance of Him in
whom all the nations of mankind were to be blessed. Beyond
this, we find that the Jews, as a nation, have been the
most rebellious, stiff-necked, perverse, ungrateful, and factious,
of any recorded in history. How different from what
might have been expected of them! Viewing the history
of the Jews in this aspect, the mind even finds a relief in
turning to profane history; but viewing their writings as
the records of the dispensations of God to mankind, and
they are worthy of universal reverence; although the
most interesting part of them is, perhaps, that which reaches
to the settlement of the race in Palestine. And to sum up,
to complete, and crown the history of this singularly privileged
people, previous to the destruction of their city and
temple, and their dispersion among the nations, we find that
the prophet whom Moses foretold them would be raised up
to them, they wickedly crucified and slew; “delivering up
and denying him in the presence of Pilate, when he was
determined to let him go. But they denied the Holy One
and the Just, and desired a murderer to be granted unto
them; and killed the Prince of Life, whom God hath raised
from the dead.” And Pilate “washed his hands before the
multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just
person: see ye to it. Then answered all the people, and
said, His blood be on us and on our children.” And his blood
is on their children at the present day; for while he is
acknowledged by three hundred millions of mankind as
their Lord and Master, the Jew teaches his children to
regard him as an impostor, and spit at the very mention of
his name. How great must be the infatuation of the poor
Jew, how dark the mind, how thick the veil that hangs
over his heart, how terrible the curse that rests upon his
head! But the Jew is to be pitied, not distressed; he
should be personally treated, in ordinary life, as his conduct
merits.
The manner in which the Jew treats the claims of Jesus
Christ disqualifies him for receiving the respect of the
Christian. He knows well that Christianity is no production
of any Gentile, but an emanation from people of his
own nation. And so conceited is the Jew in this respect,
that he will say: “Jesus Christ and his apostles were Jews:
see what Jews have done!” He regards the existence
of his race as a miracle, yet looks with indifference upon
the history and results of Christianity. People have often
wondered that Jews, as Jews, have written so little on the
inspiration of the Old Testament; but what else could have
been expected of them? How could they throw themselves
prominently forward, in urging the claims of Moses, who
was “faithful in all his house as a servant,” and totally
ignore those of Christ, who was “a son over his own
house?” So far from even entertaining the claims of the
latter, the Jew proper has the most bitter hatred for the
very mention of his name; he would almost, if he dared,
tear out part of his Scriptures, in which the Messiah is
alluded to. Does he take the trouble to give the claims of
Christianity the slightest consideration? He will spit at
it, but it is into his handkerchief; so much does he feel tied
up in the position which he occupies in the world. He
cannot say that he respects, or can respect, Christianity,
whatever he may think of its morals; for, as a Jew, he
must, and does, regard it as an imposture, and blindly so
regards it. But all Jews are not of this description; for
there are many of them who believe little in Moses or any
other, or give themselves the least trouble about such matters.
The position which Jews occupy among Christians is
that which they occupy among people of a different faith.
They become obnoxious to people everywhere; for that
which is so foreign in its origin, so exclusive in its habits
and relations, and so conceited and antagonistic in its
creed, will always be so, go where it may. Besides, they
will not even eat what others have slain; and hold other
people as impure. The very conservative nature of their
creed is, to a certain extent, against them; were it aggressive,
like the Christian’s, with a genius to embrace all
within its fold, it would not stir up, or permanently retain,
the same ill-will toward the people who profess it; for
being of that nature which retires into the corner of selfish
exclusiveness, people will naturally take a greater objection
to them. Then, the keen, money-making, and accumulating
habits of the Jews, make them appear selfish to those around
them; while the greediness, and utter want of principle,
that characterize some of them, have given a bad reputation
to the whole body, however unjustly it is applied to them
as a race.
The circumstances attending the Jews’ entry into any
country, to-day, are substantially what they were before the
advent of Christ; centuries before which era, they were
scattered, in great numbers, over most part of the world;
having synagogues, and visiting, or looking to, Jerusalem,
as their home, as Catholics, in the matter of religion, have
looked to Rome. In going abroad, Jews would as little
contemplate forsaking their own religion, and worshipping
the gods of the heathen, as do Christians, to-day, in
Oriental countries; for they were as thoroughly persuaded
that their religion was divine, and all others the inventions
of man, as are Christians of theirs. Then, it was a religion
exclusively Jewish, that is, the people following it were,
with rare exceptions, exclusively Jews by nation. The
ill-will which all these circumstances, and the very appearance
of the people themselves, have raised against the Jews,
and the persecutions, of various kinds, which have universally
followed, have widened the separation between them
and other people, which the genius of their religion made so
imperative, and their feelings of nationality—nay, family—so
exclusive. Before the dispersion, Palestine was their
home; after the dispersion, the position and circumstances
of those abroad at the time underwent no change; they
would merely contemplate their nation in a new aspect—that
of exiles, and consider themselves, for the time being,
at home wherever they happened to be. Those that were
scattered abroad, by the destruction of Jerusalem, would,
in their persons, confirm the convictions of the others, and
reconcile them to the idea that the Jewish nation, as such,
was abroad on the face of the earth; and each generation
of the race would entertain the same sentiments. After this,
as before it, it can scarcely be said that the Jews have ever
been tolerated; if not actually persecuted, they have, at
least, always been disliked, or despised. The whole nation
having been scattered abroad, with everything pertaining
to them as a nation, excepting the temple, the high-priesthood,
and the sacrifices, with such an ancient history, and
so unequivocally divine a religion, so distinct from, and obnoxious
to, those of other nations, it is no wonder that they,
the common descendants of Abraham and Sarah, should
have ever since remained a distinct people in the world; as
all the circumstances surrounding them have universally
remained the same till to-day.
A Jew of to-day has a much greater aversion to forsake
the Jewish community than any other man has to renounce
his country; and his associations of nationality are manifested
wherever a Jewish society is to be found, or wherever
he can meet with another Jew. This is the view which he
takes of his race, as something distinct from his religion;
for he contemplates himself as being of that people—of the
same blood, features, and feelings, all children of Abraham
and Sarah—that are to be found everywhere; that part of it
to which he has an aversion being only such as apostatize
from his religion, and more particularly such as embrace
the Christian faith. In speaking of Jews, we are too apt
to confine our ideas exclusively to a creed, forgetting that
Jews are a race; and that Christian Jews are Jews as well
as Jewish Jews. Were it possible to bring about a reformation
among the Jews, by which synagogues would embrace
the Christian faith, we would see Jewish Christian
churches; the only difference being, that they would believe
in Him whom their fathers pierced, and lay aside only such
of the ceremonies of Moses as the Gospel had abrogated.
If a movement of that kind were once fairly afoot, by which
was presented to the Jew, his people as a community, however
small it might be, there would be a great chance of
his becoming a Christian, in one sense or other: he could
then assume the position of a protesting Jew, holding the
rest of his countrymen in error; and his own Christian-Jewish
community as representing his race, as it ought to
exist.
At present, the few Christian Jews find no others of their
race with whom to form associations as a community; so
that, to all intents and purposes, they feel as if they were a
sort of outcasts, despised and hated by those of their own
race, and separated from the other inhabitants by a natural
law, over which neither have any control, however much
they may associate with, and respect, each other. It requires
a very powerful moral influence to constrain a Jew in
embracing the Christian faith—almost nothing short of
divine grace; and sometimes a very powerful immoral one
in professing it—that which peculiarly characterizes Jews—the
love of money. Were a community of Christian Jews
firmly established, among whom were observed every tittle
of the Jewish ceremonial, excepting such as the dispensation
of Christ had positively abolished; or even observing most
of that, (circumcision, for example,) as merely characteristic
of a people, without attaching to it the meaning of a service
recommending themselves, in any way, to the mercy of God;
and many Jews would doubtless join such a society. They
could believe in Christ as their Messiah—as their prophet,
priest, and king; receive baptism in His name; and depend
on Him for a place of happiness in a future state of existence.
To such, the injunction, as declared by St. Paul, is: “If
thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt
believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the
dead, thou shalt be saved.” (Romans x. 9.) And when they
contemplate death, they might lay their heads down in
peace, with the further assurance, as also declared by St.
Paul: “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again,
even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with
him.” (I Thess. iv. 14.) This is the kind of Messiah which
the Jew should contemplate, and seek after. He will find
his conception and birth more particularly recorded in the
two first, and his death, resurrection, and ascension, more
fully detailed in the two last, chapters of the Gospel according
to St. Luke. A person would naturally think that a
Jew would have the natural curiosity to read this wonderful
book called the “New Testament;” since, at its very lowest
estimate, it is, with the exception of the writings of St.
Luke, altogether a production of people of his own nation.
Among the Jews, there are not a few who believe in Christ,
yet, more or less, appear at the synagogue. They have no
objections to become “spectacles to angels;” but they are
not willing to make themselves such to men, by placing
themselves in that isolated position which a public profession
of Christianity would necessarily lead to. But, all
things considered, one is rather apt to fall into Utopian
ideas in speaking of the conversion of Jews, as a body, or
even as individuals, unless the grace of God, in an especial
degree, accompanies the means to that end.
It is no elevated regard for the laws of Moses, or any
exalted sense of the principles contained in the Old Testament,
that leads a Jew to lend a deaf ear to the claims of
Christianity; for his respect for them has always been indifferent,
even contemptible, enough. Indeed, the Talmud,
which is the Jew’s gospel, may be characterized as being, in
a very great part, a tissue of that which is silly and puerile,
obscene and blasphemous. It is with the Jew now, as it was
at the advent of Christ. “They have paid tithe of mint,
and anise, and cummin, and omitted the weightier matters
of the law—judgment, mercy, and faith.” “Laying aside
the commandment of God, they have held the tradition of
men, as the washing of pots and cups, and many other such-like
things;” “making the word of God of none effect
through their traditions which they have delivered.” “Full
well have they rejected the commandments of God, that they
might keep their own traditions.” “In vain do they worship
me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.”
The main prop of a Jew for remaining a Jew, in regard to
religion, rests much more upon the wonderful phenomena
connected with the history of his nation—its antiquity, its
associations, its universality, and the length of time which it
has existed, since its dispersion, distinct from the rest of the
world, and so unique, (as he imagines,) that he at once concludes
it must have the special approbation of God for the
position which it occupies; which is very true, although it
proceeds from a different motive than that which the Jew so
vainly imagines. The Jew imagines that God approves of
his conduct, in his stubborn rebellion to the claims of
Christianity, because he finds his race existing so distinct
from the rest of the world; whereas, if he studies his own
Scriptures, he will see that the condition of his race is the
punishment due to its rebellion. Who knows but that the
mark which is to be found upon the Jew answers, in a sense,
the purpose of that which every one found upon Cain? Did
not his ancestors call a solemn imprecation upon his head,
when they compelled Pilate to crucify the “just person,”
when he was determined to let him go; with no other excuse
than, “His blood be on us, and on our children?” Will
any genuine Jew repudiate the conduct of his ancestors, and
say that Christ was not an impostor, that he was not a
blasphemer, and that, consequently, he did not deserve, by
the law of his nation, to be put to death?
The history of the Jews acts as a spell upon the unfortunate
Jew, and proves the greatest bar to his conversion
to Christianity. He vainly imagines that his race stands
out from among all the races of mankind, by a miracle,
wrought for that purpose, and with the special approbation
of God upon it, for adhering to its religion; and that, therefore,
Christianity is a delusion. But we must break this
spell that enchants the Jew, and “provoke him to jealousy
by them that are no people.” And who are this people?
The Gipsies? Yes, the Gipsies! For they are numerous,
though not as numerous, and ancient, though not as ancient, as
the Jews.[308]
As to the Gipsy population, scattered over the world, I
think that the intelligent reader will agree with me, after
all that has been said, in estimating it as very large. There
seems no reason for thinking that the Gipsies suffered so
greatly, by the laws passed against them, as people have
imagined; for the cunning of the Gipsy, and the wild, or
partly uncultivated, face of all the countries of Europe
would afford him many facilities to evade the laws passed
against him. We have already seen what continental
writers have said of the race, relative to the laws passed
against it: “But, instead of passing the boundaries, they
only slunk into hiding places, and, shortly after, appeared in
as great numbers as before.” And this seems to have been
invariably the case over the whole of Europe. Mr. Borrow,
as we have already seen, speaks of every Spanish monarch,
on succeeding to the crown, passing laws against the Gipsies.
If former laws were put in force, there would be no occasion
for making so many new ones; the very fact of so many
laws having been passed against the Gipsy race, in Spain, is
sufficient proof of each individual law never having been
put to much execution, but rather, as has already been said,
(page 394,) of its having been customary for every king of
Spain to issue such against them. It does not appear that
any force was employed to hunt the Gipsies out of the
country, but that matters were left to the ordinary local
authorities, whom the tribe would, in many instances, manage
to render passive, or beyond whose jurisdiction they would
remove for the time being. The laws passed against the
nobility and commonalty of Spain, for protecting the Gipsies,
(page 114,) is a very instructive commentary on
those for the extermination of the body itself. But the case
most in point is in the Scottish laws passed against the
Gipsies. Upon the passing of the Act of James VI., in
1609, we find that the Gipsies “dispersed themselves in
certain secret and obscure places of the country”; and that,
when the storm was blown over, they “began to take new
breath and courage, and unite themselves in infamous companies
and societies, under commanders” (page 114). The
extreme bitterness displayed in Scots acts of parliament
against the best classes of the population, for protecting
and entertaining the tribe, and, consequently, rendering the
other acts nugatory, has a very important bearing upon the
subject. We find that the Gipsies wandered up and down
France for a hundred years, unmolested; and that, so
numerous had they become, that, in 1545, the King of
France entertained the idea of embodying four thousand
of them, to act as pioneers in taking Boulogne, then in possession
of England. The last notice which we have of the
French Gipsies was that made by Grellmann, when he says:
“In France, before the Revolution, there were but few, for
the obvious reason, that every Gipsy who could be apprehended,
fell a sacrifice to the police.” Grellmann, however,
had not studied the subject sufficiently deep to account for
the destiny of the race. If they were so very numerous in
France, in 1545, the natural encrease, in whatever position
in life it might be, must have been very great during the
following 235 years. I have learned, from the best of
authority, that there are many Gipsies in Flanders.[309] If the
Gipsies in England were estimated at above ten thousand,
during the early part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, how
many may they not be now, including those of every kind of
mixture of blood, character, and position in life? If there
is one Gipsy in the British Isles, there cannot be less than a
quarter of a million, and, possibly, as many as six hundred
thousand; and, instead of there being sixty thousand in
Spain, and constantly decreasing, (disappearing is the right
word,) we may safely estimate them at three hundred thousand.
The reader has already been informed of what becomes
of all the Gipsies. As a case in point, I may ask,
who would have imagined that there was such a thing in
Edinburgh as a factory, filled, not merely with Gipsies, but
with Irish Gipsies? The owner of the establishment was
doubtless a Gipsy; for how did so many Gipsies come to
work in it, or how did he happen to know that his workmen
were all Gipsies, or that even one of them was a Gipsy?
Even to take Grellmann’s estimate of the Gipsies in Europe,
at from 700,000 to 800,000, and the race must be very
numerous to-day. Since his time, the Negroes in the United
States have encreased from 500,000 to 4,000,000, and this
much is certain, that Gipsies are, to say the least of it, as
prolific as Negroes. The encrease in both includes much
white blood added to the respective bodies. Some of the
Gipsies have, doubtless, been hanged; but, on the other
hand, many of the Negroes have been worked to death.
There is a great difference, however, between the wild, independent
Gipsy race and the Negroes in the New World.
I should not suppose that the Gipsy race in Europe and
America can be less than 4,000,000. It embraces, for certainty,
as in Scotland, men ranging in character and position
from a pillar of the Church down to a common tinker.[310]
Christians not only flatter but delude the Jew, when they
say that his race is “purity itself;” they greatly flatter and
delude him, when they say that the phenomenon of its existence,
since the dispersion, is miraculous. There is nothing
miraculous about it. There is nothing miraculous about the
perpetuation of Quakerdom; yet Quakerdom has existed for
two centuries. Although Quakerdom is but an artificial
thing, that proceeded out from among common English people,
it has somewhat the appearance of being a distinct race,
among those surrounding it. As such, it appears, at first
sight, to inexperienced youth, or people who have never seen,
or perhaps heard, much of Quakers. But how much greater
is the difference between Jews and Christians, than between
Quakers and ordinary Englishmen, and Americans! And
how much greater the certainty that Jews will keep themselves
distinct from Christians, and all others in the world!
It must be self-evident to the most unreflecting person, that
the natural causes which keep Jews separated from other
people, during one generation, continue to keep them distinct
during every other generation. A miracle, indeed! We
must look into the Old and New Testaments for miracles.
A Jew will naturally delude himself about the existence of
his race, since the dispersion, being a miracle; yet not believe
upon a person, if he were even to rise from the dead!
A little consideration of the philosophy of the Jewish question
will teach us that, perhaps, the best way for Providence
to preserve the Jews, as they have existed since their dispersion,
would have been merely to leave them alone—leave
them to their impenitence and unbelief—and take that much
care of them that is taken of ravens.
The subject of the Gipsies is a mine which Christians
should work, so as to countermine and explode the conceit
of the Jew in the history of his people; for that, as I have
already said, is the greatest bar to his conversion to Christianity.
Still, it is possible that some people may oppose
the idea that the Gipsies are the “mixed multitude” of the
Exodus, from some such motive as that which induces others
not merely to disbelieve, but revile, and even rave at some
of the clear points of revelation.[311] What objection could
any one advance against the Gipsies being the people that
left Egypt, in the train of the Jews? Not, certainly, an objection
as to race; for there must have been many captive
people, or tribes, introduced into Egypt, from the many
countries surrounding it. Pharaoh was a czar in his day,
transplanting people at his pleasure. Of one of his cities it
was said,
“That spreads her conquests o’er a thousand states,
And pours her heroes through a hundred gates:
Two hundred horsemen, and two hundred cars,
From each wide portal, issuing to the wars.”
That the “mixed multitude” travelled into India, acquired
the language of that part of Asia, and, perhaps, modified its
appearance there, and became the origin of the Gipsy race,
we may very safely assume. This much is certain, that they
are not Sudras, but a very ancient tribe, distinct from every
other in the world. With the exception of the Jews, we
have no certainty of the origin of any people; in every
other case it is conjecture; even the Hungarians know nothing
of their origin; and it is not wonderful that it should
be the same with the Gipsies. Everything harmonizes so
beautifully with the idea that the Gipsies are the “mixed
multitude” of the Exodus, that it may be admitted by the
world. Even in the matter of religion, we could imagine
Egyptian captives losing a knowledge of their religion, as
has happened with the Africans in the New World, and, not
having had another taught them, leaving Egypt under Moses,
without any religion at all.[312] After entering India, they
would, in all probability, become a wandering people, and,
for a certainty, live aloof from all others.
While the history of the Jews, since the dispersion, greatly
illustrates that of the Gipsies, so does the history of the Gipsies
greatly illustrate that of the Jews. They greatly resemble
each other. Jews shuffle, when they say that the
only difference between an Englishman and an English Jew,
is in the matter of creed; for there is a great difference between
the two, whatever they may have in common, as men
born and reared on the same soil. The very appearance of
the two is palpable proof that they are not of the same race.
The Jew invariably, and unavoidably, holds his “nation” to
mean the Jewish people, scattered over the world; and is
reared in the idea that he is, not only in creed, but in blood,
distinct from other men; and that, in blood and creed, he
is not to amalgamate with them, let him live where he may.
Indeed, what England is to an Englishman, this universally
scattered people is to the Jew; what the history of England
is to an Englishman, the Bible is to the Jew; his nation being
nowhere in particular, but everywhere, while its ultimate
destiny he, more or less, believes to be Palestine. Now, an
Englishman has not only been born an Englishman, but his
mind has been cast in a mould that makes him an Englishman;
so that, to persecute him, on the ground of his being
an Englishman, is to persecute him for that which can never
be changed. It is precisely so with the Jew. His creed
does not amount to much, for it is only part of the history
of his race, or the law of his nation, traced to, and emanating
from, one God, and Him the true God, as distinguished
from the gods and lords many of other nations: such is the
nature of the Jewish theocracy. To persecute a Gipsy, for
being a Gipsy, would likewise be to persecute him for that
which he could not help; for to prevent a person being a
Gipsy, in the most important sense of the word, it would be
necessary to take him, when an infant, and rear him entirely
apart from his own race, so that he should never hear the
“wonderful story,” nor have his mind filled with the Gipsy
electric fluid. An English Gipsy went abroad, very young,
as a soldier, and was many years from home, without having
had a Gipsy companion, so that he had almost forgotten
that he was a Gipsy; but, on his returning home, other Gipsies
applied their magnetic battery to him, and gipsyfied
him over again. A town Gipsy will occasionally send a
child to a Gipsy hedge-schoolmaster, for the purpose of being
extra gipsyfied.
The being a Gipsy, or a Jew, or a Gentile, consists in birth
and rearing. The three may be born and brought up under
one general roof, members of their respective nationalities,
yet all good Christians. But the Jew, by becoming a Christian,
necessarily cuts himself off from associations with the
representative part of his nation; for Jews do not tolerate
those who forsake the synagogue, and believe in Christ, as
the Messiah having come; however much they may respect
their children, who, though born into the Christian Church,
and believing in its doctrines, yet maintain the inherent affection
for the associations connected with the race, and
more especially if they also occupy distinguished positions
in life. So intolerant, indeed, are Jews of each other, in
the matter of each choosing his own religion, extending
sometimes to assassination in some countries, and invariably
to the crudest persecutions in families, that they are hardly
justified in asking, and scarcely merit, toleration for themselves,
as a people, from the nations among whom they live.
The present Disraeli doubtless holds himself to be a Jew,
let his creed or Christianity be what it may; if he looks at
himself in his mirror, he cannot deny it. We have an instance
in the Cappadoce family becoming, and remaining for
several generations, Christians, then returning to the synagogue,
and, in another generation, joining the Christian
church. The same vicissitude may attend future generations
of this family. There should be no great obstacle in the
way of it being allowed to pass current in the world, like
any other fact, that a person can be a Jew and, at the same
time, a Christian; as we say that a man can be an Englishman
and a Christian, a McGregor and a Christian, a Gipsy
and a Christian, or a Jew and a Christian, even should he
not know when his ancestors attended the synagogue.
Christianity was not intended, nor is it capable, to destroy
the nationality of Jews, as individuals, or as a nation, any
more than that of other people. We may even assume that
a person, having a Jew for one parent, and a Christian for
another, and professing the Christian faith, and having the
influences of the Jew exercised over him from his infancy,
cannot fail, with his blood and, it may be, physiognomy, to
have feelings peculiar to the Jews; although he may believe
them as blind, in the matter of religion, as do other Christians.
But separate him, after the death of the Jewish
parent, from all associations with Jews, and he may gradually
lose those peculiarly Jewish feelings that are inseparable
from a Jewish community, however small it may be. There
are, then, no circumstances, out of and independent of himself
and the other members of his family, to constitute him a
Jew; and still less can it be so with his children, when they
marry with ordinary Christians, and never come in intimate
contact with Jews. The Jewish feeling may be ultimately
crossed out in this way; I say ultimately, for it does not
take place in the first descent, (and that is as far as my personal
knowledge goes,) even although the mother is an ordinary
Christian, and the children have been brought up exclusively
to follow her religion.
Gipsydom, however, goes with the individual, and keeps
itself alive in the family, and the private associations of life,
let its creed be what it may; the original cast of mind,
words, and signs, always remaining with itself. In this respect,
the Gipsy differs from every other man. He cannot
but know who he is to start life with, nor can he forget it;
he has those words and signs within himself which, as he
moves about in the world, he finds occasion to use. A Jew
may boast of the peculiar cast of countenance by which his
race is generally characterized, and how his nation is kept
together by a common blood, history, and creed. But the
phenomenon connected with the history of the Gipsy race is
more wonderful than that which is connected with the Jewish;
inasmuch as, let the blood of the Gipsy become as much
mixed as it may, it always preserves its Gipsy identity; although
it may not have the least outward resemblance to an
original Gipsy. You cannot crush or cross out the Gipsy
race; so thoroughly subtle, so thoroughly adaptable, so
thoroughly capable, is it to evade every weapon that can be
forged against it. The Gipsy soul, in whatever condition it
may be found, or whatever may be the tabernacle which it
may inhabit, is as independent, now, of those laws which
regulate the disappearance of certain races among others,
as when it existed in its wild state, roaming over the heath.
The Gipsy race, in short, absorbs, but cannot be absorbed by,
other races.
In my associations with Gipsies and Jews, I find that both
races rest upon the same basis, viz.: a question of people.
The response of the one, as to who he is, is that he is a Gipsy;
and of the other, that he is a Jew. Each of them has a
peculiarly original soul, that is perfectly different from each
other, and others around them; a soul that passes as naturally
and unavoidably into each succeeding generation of
the respective races, as does the soul of the English or any
other race into each succeeding generation. For each considers
his nation as abroad upon the face of the earth;
which circumstance will preserve its existence amid all the
revolutions to which ordinary nations are subject. As they
now exist within, and independent of, the nations among
whom they live, so will they endure, if these nations were
to disappear under the subjection of other nations, or become
incorporated with them under new names. Many of the
Gipsies and Jews might perish amid such convulsions, but
those that survived would constitute the stock of their respective
nations; while others might migrate from other
countries, and contribute to their numbers. In the case of
the Gipsy nation, as it gets crossed with common blood, the
issue shows the same result as does the shaking of the needle
on the card—it always turns to the pole: that pole, among
the Gipsies, being a sense of its blood, and a sympathy with
the same people in every part of the world. For this reason,
the Gipsy race, like the Jewish, may, with regard to its
future, be said to be even eternal.
The Gipsy soul is fresh and original, not only from its
recent appearance in Europe, without any traditional knowledge
of its existence anywhere else, but from having sprung
from so singular an origin as a tent; so that the mystery
that attaches to it, from those causes, and the contemplation
of the Gipsy, in his original state, to-day, present to the
Gipsy that fascination for his own history which the Jew
finds in the antiquity of his race, and the exalted privileges
with which it was at one time visited. The civilized Gipsy
looks upon his ancestors, as they appeared in Europe generally,
and Scotland especially, as great men, as heroes who
scorned the company of anything below a gentleman. And
he is not much out of the way; for John Faw, and Towla
Bailyow, and the others mentioned in the act of 1540, were
unquestionably heroes of the first water. He pictures to
himself these men as so many swarthy, slashing heroes,
dressed in scarlet and green, armed with pistols and broad-swords,
mounted on blood-horses, with hawks and hounds in
their train. True to nature, every Gipsy is delighted with
his descent, no matter what other people, in their ignorance
of the subject, may think of it, or what their prejudices may
be in regard to it. One of the principal differences to be
drawn between the history of the Gipsies and that of the
Jews, is, as I have already stated, that the Jews left Palestine
a civilized people, while the Gipsies entered Europe, in
the beginning of the fifteenth century, in a barbarous state.
But the difference is only of a relative nature; for when
the Gipsies emerge from their original condition, they occupy
as good positions in the world as the Jews; while they
have about them none of those outward peculiarities of the
Jews, that make them, in a manner, offensive to other people.
In every sense but that of belonging to the Gipsy tribe,
they are ordinary natives; for the circumstances that have
formed the characters of the ordinary natives have formed
theirs. Besides this, there is a degree of dignity about the
general bearing of such people, rough as it sometimes is,
that plainly shows that they are no common fellows, at least
that they do not hold themselves to be such. For it is to be
remarked, that such people do not directly apply to themselves
the prejudice which exists towards what the world
understands to be Gipsies; however much they may infer
that such would be directed against them, should the world
discover that they belonged to the tribe. In this respect,
they differ from Jews, all of whom apply to themselves the
prejudice of the rest of their species; which exercises so
depressing an influence upon the character of a people. Indeed,
one will naturally look for certain general superior
points of character in a man who has fairly emerged from a
wild and barbarous state, which he will not be so apt to find
in another who has fallen from a higher position in the scale
of nations, which the Jew has unquestionably done. A Jew,
no matter what he thinks of the long-gone-by history of his
race, looks upon it, now, as a fallen people; while the Gipsy
has that subdued but, at heart, consequential, extravagance
of ideas, springing from the wild independence and vanity
of his ancestors, which frequently finds a vent in a lavish
and foolish expenditure, so as not to be behind others in his
liberality. A very good idea of such a cast of character
may be formed from that of the superior class of Gipsies
mentioned by our author, when the descendants of such
have been brought up under more favourable circumstances,
and enjoyed all the advantages of the ordinary natives of
the country.
In considering the phenomenon of the existence of the
Jews since the dispersion, I am not inclined to place it on
any other basis than I would that of the Gipsies; for, with
both, it is substantially a question of people. They are a
people, scattered over the world, like the Gipsies, and have
a history—the Bible, which contains both their history
and their laws; and these two contain their religion. It
would, perhaps, be more correct to say, that the religion
of the Jews is to be found in the Talmud, and the other
human compositions, for which the race have such a superstitious
reverence; and even these are taken as interpreted
by the Rabbis. A Jew has, properly speaking, little of a
creed. He believes in the existence of God, and in Moses,
his prophet, and observes certain parts of the ceremonial
law, and some holidays, commemorative of events in the
history of his people. He is a Jew, in the first place, as a
simple matter of fact, and, as he grows up, he is made acquainted
with the history of his race, to which he becomes
strongly attached. He then holds himself to be one of the
“first-born of the Lord,” one of the “chosen of the Eternal,”
one of the “Lord’s aristocracy;” expressions of amazing
import, in his worldly mind, that will lead him to almost
die for his faith; while his religion is of a very low natural
order, “standing only in meats and drinks, and divers washings,
and carnal ordinances,” suitable for a people in a state
of pupilage. The Jewish mind, in the matter of religion, is,
in some respects, preëminently gross and material in its
nature; its idea of a Messiah rising no higher than a conqueror
of its own race, who will bring the whole world
under his sway, and parcel out, among his fellow-Jews, a
lion’s share of the spoils, consisting of such things as the
inferior part of human nature so much craves for. And his
ideas of how this Messiah is to be connected with the original
tribes, as mentioned in the prophecies, are childish
and superstitious in the extreme. Writers do, therefore,
greatly err, when they say, that it is only a thin partition
that separates Judaism from Christianity. There is almost
as great a difference between the two, as there is between
that which is material, and that which is spiritual. A Jew
is so thoroughly bound, heart and soul, by the spell which
the phenomena of his race exert upon him, that, humanly
speaking, it is impossible to make anything of him in the
matter of Christianity. And herein, in his own way of thinking,
consists his peculiar glory. Such being the case with
Christianity, it is not to be supposed that the Jew would
forsake his own religion, and, of course, his own people, and
believe in any religion having an origin in the spontaneous
and gradual growth of superstition and imposture, modified,
systematized, adorned, or expanded, by ambitious and
superior minds, or almost wholly in the conceptions of
these minds; having, for a foundation, an instinct—an
intellectual and emotional want—as common to man, as
instinct is to the brute creation, for the ends which it has
to serve. We cannot separate the questions of race and
belief, when we consider the Jews as a people, however it
might be with individuals among them. It was as unreasonable
to persecute a Jew, for not giving up his feelings
as a Jew, and his religion, for the superstitions and impostures
of Rome, as it was to persecute a Gipsy, for not giving
up his feelings of nationality, and his language, as was specially
attempted by Charles III., of Spain: for such are inherent
in the respective races. The worst that can be said
of any Gipsy, in the matter of religion, is, when we meet
with one who admits that all that he really cares for is,
“to get a good belly-full, and to feel comfortable o’ nights.”
Here, we have an original soil to be cultivated; a soil that
can be cultivated, if we only go the right way about doing it.
Out of such a man, there is no other spirit to be cast, but
that of “the world, the flesh, and the devil,” before another
can take up its habitation in his mind. Bigoted as is the
Jew against even entertaining the claims of Christ, as the
Messiah, he is very indifferent to the practice, or even the
knowledge, of his own religion, where he is tolerated and
well-treated, as in the United States of America. Of the
growing-up, or even the grown-up, Jews in that country,
the ultra-Jewish organ, the “Jewish Messenger,” of New
York, under date the 19th October, 1860, says that, “with
the exception of a very few, who are really taught their religion,
the great majority, we regret to state, know no more
of their faith than the veriest heathen:” and, I might add,
practise less of it; for, as a people, they pay very little
regard to it, in general, or to the Sabbath, in particular,
but are characterized as worldly beyond measure; having
more to answer for than the Gipsy, whose sole care is “a
good meal, and a comfortable crib at night.”[313]
Amid all the obloquy and contempt cast upon his race,
amid all the persecutions to which it has been exposed, the
Jew, with his inherent conceit in having Abraham for his
father, falls back upon the history of his nation, with the
utmost contempt for everything else that is human; forgetting
that there is such a thing as the “first being last.” He
boasts that his race, and his only, is eternal, and that all
other men get everything from him! He vainly imagines
that the Majesty of Heaven should have made his dispensations
to mankind conditional upon anything so unworthy as
his race has so frequently shown itself to be. If he has been
so favoured by God, what can he point to as the fruits of so
much loving-kindness shown him? What is his nation
now, however numerous it may be, but a ruin, and its members,
but spectres that haunt it? And what has brought it
to its present condition? “Its sins.” Doubtless, its sins;
but what particular sins? And how are these sins to be
put away, seeing that the temple, the high-priesthood, and
the sacrifices no longer exist? Or what effort, by such
means as offer, has ever been made to mitigate the wrath
of God, and prevail upon Him to restore the people to their
exalted privileges? Or what could they even propose
doing, to bring about that event? Questions like these involve
the Jewish mind in a labyrinth of difficulties, from
which it cannot extricate itself. The dispersion was not
only foretold, but the cause of it given. The Scriptures
declare that the Messiah was to have appeared before the
destruction of the temple; and the time of his expected advent,
according to Jewish traditions, coincided with that
event. It is eighteen centuries since the destruction of the
temple, before which the Messiah was to have come; and
the Jew still “hopes against hope,” and, if it is left to himself,
will do so till the day of judgment, for such a Messiah as
his earthly mind seems to be only capable of contemplating.
Has he never read the New Testament, and reflected on
the sufferings of him who was meek and lowly, or on those
of his disciples, inflicted by his ancestors, for generations,
when he has come complaining of the sufferings to which
his race has been exposed? He is entitled to sympathy,
for all the cruelties with which his race has been visited;
but he could ask it with infinitely greater grace, were he to
offer any for the sufferings of the early Christians and their
divine master, or were he, even, to tolerate any of his race
following him to-day.
What has the Jew got to say to all this? He cannot
now say that his main comfort and support, in his unbelief,
consists in his contemplating what he vainly calls a miracle,
wrapt up in the history of his people, since the dispersion.
That prop and comfort are gone. No, O Jew! the true
miracle, if miracle there is, is your impenitent unbelief.
No one asks you to disbelieve in Moses, but, in addition to
believing in Moses, to believe in him of whom Moses wrote.
Do you really believe in Moses? You, doubtless, believe
after a sort; you believe in Moses, as any other person believes
in the history of his own country and people; but
your belief in Moses goes little further. You glory in the
antiquity of your race, and imagine that every other has
perished. No, O Jew! the “mixed multitude” which left
Egypt, under Moses, separated from him, and passed into
India, has come up, in these latter times, again to vex you.
Even it is entering, it may be, pressing, into the Kingdom
of God, and leaving you out of it. Yes! the people from
the “hedges and by-ways” are submitting to the authority
of the true Messiah; while you, in your infatuated blindness,
are denying him.
What may be termed the philosophy of the Gipsies, is
very simple in itself, when we have before us its main points,
its principles, its bearings, its genius; and fully appreciated
the circumstances with which the people are surrounded.
The most remarkable thing about the subject is, that people
never should have dreamt of its nature, but, on the contrary,
believed that “the Gipsies are gradually disappearing,
and will soon become extinct.” The Gipsies have always
been disappearing, but where do they go to? Look at
any tent of Gipsies, when the family are all together, and
see how prolific they are. What, then, becomes of this encrease?
The present work answers the question. It is a
subject, however, which I have found some difficulty in getting
people to understand. One cannot see how a person
can be a Gipsy, “because his father was a respectable man;”
another, “because his father was an old soldier;” and
another cannot see “how it necessarily follows that a person
is a Gipsy, for the reason that his parents were Gipsies.”
The idea, as disconnected from the use of a tent, or following
a certain kind of life, may be said to be strange to the
world; and, on that account, is not very easily impressed on
the human mind. It would be singular, however, if a Scotchman,
after all that has been said, should not be able to
understand what is meant by the Scottish Gipsy tribe, or
that it should ever cease to be that tribe as it progresses in
life. In considering the subject, he need not cast about for
much to look at, for he should exercise his mind, rather than
his eyes, when he approaches it. It is, principally, a mental
phenomenon, and should, therefore, be judged of by the
faculties of the mind: for a Gipsy may not differ a whit
from an ordinary native, in external appearance or character,
while, in his mind, he may be as thorough a Gipsy as
one could well imagine.
In contemplating the subject of the Gipsies, we should
have a regard for the facts of the question, and not be led
by what we might, or might not, imagine of it; for the
latter course would be characteristic of people having the
moral and intellectual traits of children. The race might,
to a certain extent, be judged analogously, by what we know
of other races; but that which is pre-eminently necessary,
is to judge of it by facts: for facts, in a matter like this,
take precedence of everything. Even in regard to the
Gipsy language, broken as it is, people are very apt to say
that it cannot exist at the present day; yet the least reflection
will convince us, that the language which the Gipsies
use is the remains of that which they brought with them
into Europe, and not a make-up, to serve their purposes.
The very genius peculiar to them, as an Oriental people,
is a sufficient guarantee of this fact; and the more so from
their having been so thoroughly separated, by the prejudice
of caste, from others around them; which would so naturally
lead them to use, and retain, their peculiar speech. But
the use of the Gipsy language is not the only, not even the
principal, means of maintaining a knowledge of being Gipsies;
perhaps it is altogether unnecessary; for the mere
consciousness of the fact of being Gipsies, transmitted from
generation to generation, and made the basis of marriages,
and the intimate associations of life, is, in itself, perfectly
sufficient. The subject of two distinct races, existing upon
the same soil, is not very familiar to the mind of a British
subject. To acquire a knowledge of such a phenomenon,
he should visit certain parts of Europe, or Asia, or Africa,
or the New World. Since all (I may say all) Gipsies hide
the knowledge of their being Gipsies from the other inhabitants,
as they leave the tent, it cannot be said that any
of them really deny themselves, even should they hide themselves
from those of their own race. The ultimate test of a
person being a Gipsy would be for another to catch the internal
response of his mind to the question put to him as to
the fact; or observe the workings of his heart in his contemplations
of himself. It can hardly be said that any
Gipsy denies, at heart, the fact of his being a Gipsy,
(which, indeed, is a contradiction in terms,) let him disguise
it from others as much as he may. If I could find such
a man, he would be the only one of his race whom I
would feel inclined to despise as such.
From all that has been said, the reader can have no difficulty
in believing, with me, as a question beyond doubt, that
the immortal John Bunyan was a Gipsy of mixed blood.
He was a tinker. And who were the tinkers? Were there
any itinerant tinkers in England, before the Gipsies settled
there? It is doubtful. In all likelihood, articles requiring
to be tinkered were carried to the nearest smithy. The
Gipsies are all tinkers, either literally, figuratively, or representatively.
Ask any English Gipsy, of a certain class,
what he can do, and, after enumerating several occupations,
he will add: “I can tinker, of course,” although he may
know little or nothing about it. Tinkering, or travelling-smith
work, is the Gipsy’s representative business, which he
brought with him into Europe. Even the intelligent and
respectable Scottish Gipsies speak of themselves as belonging
to the “tinker tribe.” The Gipsies in England, as in
Scotland, divided the country among themselves, under
representative chiefs, and did not allow any other Gipsies
to enter upon their walks or beats. Considering that the
Gipsies in England were estimated at above ten thousand
during the early part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, we
can readily believe that they were much more numerous
during the time of Bunyan. Was there, therefore, a pot or
a kettle, in the rural parts of England, to be mended, for
which there was not a Gipsy ready to attend to it? If a Gipsy
would not tolerate any of his own race entering upon his
district, was he likely to allow any native? If there were
native tinkers in England before the Gipsies settled there,
how soon would the latter, with their organization, drive
every one from the trade by sheer force! What thing more
like a Gipsy? Among the Scotch, we find, at a comparatively
recent time, that the Gipsies actually murdered a
native, for infringing upon what they considered one of
their prerogatives—that of gathering rags through the
country.
Lord Macaulay says, with reference to Bunyan: “The
tinkers then formed a hereditary caste, which was held in
no high estimation. They were generally vagrants and pilferers,
and were often confounded with the Gipsies, whom,
in truth, they nearly resembled.” I would like to know on
what authority his lordship makes such an assertion; what
he knows about the origin of this “hereditary tinker caste,”
and if it still exists; and whether he holds to the purity-of-Gipsy-blood
idea, advanced by the Edinburgh Review and
Blackwood’s Magazine, but especially the former. How
would he account for the existence of a hereditary caste of
any kind, in England, and that just one—the “tinker caste”?
There was no calling at that time hereditary in England,
that I know of; and yet Bunyan was born a tinker. In
Scotland, the collier and salter castes were hereditary, for
they were in a state of slavery to the owners of these
works.[314] But who ever heard of any native occupation, so
free as tinkering, being hereditary in England, in the seventeenth
century? Was not this “tinker caste,” at that time,
exactly the same that it is now? If it was then hereditary,
is it not so still? If not, by what means has it ceased to
be hereditary? The tinkers existed in England, at that time,
exactly as they do now. And who are they now but mixed
Gipsies? It is questionable, very questionable indeed, if we
will find, in all England, a tinker who is not a Gipsy. The
class will deny it; the purer and more original kind of Gipsies
will also deny it; still, they are Gipsies. They are all
chabos, calos, or chals; but they will play upon the word Gipsy
in its ideal, purity-of-blood sense, and deny that they are
Gipsies. We will find in Lavengro two such Gipsies—the
Flaming Tinman, and Jack Slingsby; the first, a half-blood,
(which did not necessarily imply that either parent was
white;) and the other, apparently, a very much mixed Gipsy.
The tinman termed Slingsby a “mumping villain.” Now,
“mumper,” among the English Gipsies, is an expression for
a Gipsy whose blood is very much mixed. When Mr. Borrow
used the word Petulengro,[315] Slingsby started, and exclaimed:
“Young man, you know a thing or two.” I have
used the same word with English Gipsies, causing the same
surprise; on one occasion, I was told: “You must be a
Scotch Gipsy yourself.” “Well,” I replied, “I may be as
good a Gipsy as any of you, for anything you may know.”
“That may be so,” was the answer I got. Then Slingsby
was very careful to mention to Lavengro that his wife was
a white, or Christian, woman; a thing not necessarily true
because he asserted it, but it implied that he was different.
These are but instances of, I might say, all the English tinkers.
Almost every old countrywoman about the Scottish
Border knows that the Scottish tinkers are Gipsies.[316]
The prejudice against the name of Gipsy was apparently
as great in Bunyan’s time as in our own; and there was,
evidently, as great a timidity, on the part of mixed, fair-haired
Gipsies, to own the blood then, as now; and great
danger, for then it was hangable to be a Gipsy, by the law
of Queen Elizabeth, and “felony without benefit of clergy,”
for “any person, being fourteen years, whether natural born
subject or stranger, who had been seen in the fellowship of
such persons, or disguised like them, and remained with them
one month, at once, or at several times.” When the name
of Gipsy, and every association connected with it, were so
severely proscribed by law, what other name would the
tribe go under but that of tinkers—their own proper occupation?
Those only would be called Gipsies whose appearance
indicated the pure, or nearly pure, Gipsy. Although
there was no necessity, under any circumstances, for Bunyan
to say that he was a Gipsy, and still less in the face of the
law proscribing, so absolutely, the race, and every one countenancing
it, he evidently wished the fact to be understood,
or, I should rather say, took it for granted, that part of the
public knew of it, when he said: “For my descent, it was,
as is well known to many, of a low and inconsiderable generation;
my father’s house being of that rank that is meanest
and most despised of all the families of the land.” Of whom
does Bunyan speak here, if not of the Gipsies? He says, of
all the families of the land. And he adds: “After I had
been thus for some considerable time, another thought came
into my mind, and that was, whether we, (his family and relatives,)
were of the Israelites or no? For, finding in the
Scriptures, that they were once the peculiar people of God,
thought I, if I were one of this race, (how significant is the
expression!) my soul must needs be happy. Now, again, I
found within me a great longing to be resolved about this
question, but could not tell how I should; at last, I
asked my father of it, who told me, No, we, (his father included,)
were not.”[317] I have heard the same question put
by Gipsy lads to their parent, (a very much mixed Gipsy,)
and it was answered thus: “We must have been among the
Jews, for some of our ceremonies are like theirs.” The best
commentary that can be passed on the above extracts
from Bunyan’s autobiography, will be found in our author’s
account of his visit to the old Gipsy chief, whose acquaintance
he made at St. Boswell’s fair, and to which the reader
is referred, (pages 309-318.) When did we ever hear of an
ordinary Englishman taking so much trouble to ascertain
whether he was a Jew, or not? No Englishman, it may be
safely asserted, ever does that, or has ever done it; and no
one in England could have done it, during Bunyan’s time,
but a Gipsy. Bunyan seems to have been more or less acquainted
with the history of the Jews, and how they were
scattered over the world, though not publicly known to be
in England, from which country they had been for centuries
banished. About the time in question, the re-admission of
the Jews was much canvassed in ecclesiastical as well as
political circles, and ultimately carried, by the exertions of
Manasseh Ben Israel, of Amsterdam. Under these circumstances,
it was very natural for Bunyan to ask himself whether
he belonged to the Jewish race, since he had evidently
never seen a Jew; and that the more especially, as the
Scottish Gipsies have even believed themselves to be Ethiopians.
Such a question is entertained, by the Gipsies, even
at the present day; for they naturally think of the Jews,
and wonder whether, after all, their race may not, at some
time, have been connected with them. How trifling it is for
any one to assert, that Bunyan—a common native of England—while
in a state of spiritual excitement, imagined that he
was a Jew, and that he should, at a mature age, have put
anything so absurd in his autobiography, and in so grave a
manner as he did!
Southey, in his life of Bunyan, writes: “Wherefore this
(tinkering) should have been so mean and despised a calling,
is not, however, apparent, when it was not followed as a
vagabond employment, but, as in this case, exercised by one
who had a settled habitation, and who, mean as his condition
was, was nevertheless able to put his son to school, in an
age when very few of the poor were taught to read and
write.” The fact is, that Bunyan’s father had, apparently,
a town beat, which would give him a settled residence, prevent
him using a tent, and lead him to conform with the
ways of the ordinary inhabitants; but, doubtless, he had his
pass from the chief of the Gipsies for the district. The
same may be said of John Bunyan himself.
How little does a late writer in the Dublin University
Magazine know of the feelings of a mixed Gipsy, like
Bunyan, when he says: “Did he belong to the Gipsies, we
have little doubt that he would have dwelt on it, with a sort
of spiritual exultation; and that of his having been called
out of Egypt would have been to him one of the proofs of
Divine favour. We cannot imagine him suppressing the
fact, or disguising it.” Where is the point in the reviewer’s
remarks? His remarks have no point. How could the fact
of a man being a Gipsy be made the grounds of any kind of
spiritual exultation? And how could the fact of the tribe
originating in Egypt be a proof of Divine favour towards
the individual? What occasion had Bunyan to mention he
was a Gipsy? What purpose would it have served? How
would it have advanced his mission as a minister? Considering
the prejudice that has always existed against that
unfortunate word Gipsy, it would have created a sensation
among all parties, if Bunyan had said that he was a Gipsy.
“What!” the people would have asked, “a Gipsy turned
priest? We’ll have the devil turning priest next!” Considering
the many enemies which the tinker-bishop had to
contend with, some of whom even sought his life, he would
have given them a pretty occasion of revenging themselves
upon him, had he said he was a Gipsy. They would have
put the law in force, and stretched his neck for him.[318] The
same writer goes on to say: “In one passage at least—and
we think there are more in Bunyan’s works—the Gipsies
are spoken of in such a way as would be most unlikely if
Bunyan thought he belonged to that class of vagabonds.” I
am not aware as to what the reviewer alludes; but, should
Bunyan even have denounced the conduct of the Gipsies, in
the strongest terms imaginable, would that have been otherwise
than what he did with sinners generally? Should a
clergyman denounce the ways and morals of every man of
his parish, does that make him think less of being a native
of the parish himself? Should a man even denounce his
children as vagabonds, does that prevent him being their
father? This writer illustrates what I have said of people
generally—that they are almost incapable of forming an
opinion on the Gipsy question, unaided by facts, and the
bearings of facts, laid before them; so thoroughly is the
philosophy of race, as it progresses and develops, unknown
to the public mind, and so absolute is the prejudice of caste
against the Gipsy race.[319]
I need hardly say anything further to show that Bunyan
was a Gipsy. The only circumstance that is wanting to
complete the evidence, would be for him to have added to his
account of his descent: “In other words, I am a Gipsy.”
But I have given reasons for such verbal admission being, in
a measure, impossible. I do not ask for an argument in
favour of Bunyan not being a Gipsy, but a common Englishman;
for an argument of that kind, beyond such remarks as
I have commented on, is impracticable; but what I ask for is,
an exposition of the animus of the man who does not wish
that he should have been a Gipsy; assuming that a man can
be met with, who will so far forget what is due to the dignity
of human nature, as to commit himself in any such way.
That Bunyan was a Gipsy is beyond a doubt. That he is a
Gipsy, now, in Abraham’s bosom, the Christian may readily
believe. To the genius of a Gipsy and the grace of God
combined, the world is indebted for the noblest production
that ever proceeded from an uninspired man. Impugn it
whoso list.
Of the Pilgrim’s Progress, Lord Macaulay, in his happy
manner, writes: “For magnificence, for pathos, for vehement
exhortation, for subtle disquisition, for every purpose
of the poet, the orator, and the divine, this homely dialect—the
dialect of plain working men—was perfectly sufficient.
There is no book in our literature on which we would so
readily stake the fame of the old, unpolluted, English language,”
as the Pilgrim’s Progress; “no book which shows,
so well, how rich that language is in its own proper wealth,
and how little it has been improved by all that it has borrowed.”
“Though there were many clever men in England,
during the latter half of the seventeenth century, there were
only two great creative minds. One of these minds produced
the Paradise Lost; the other, the Pilgrim’s Progress”—the
work of an English tinkering Gipsy.
It is very singular that religious writers should strive to
make out that Bunyan was not a Gipsy. If these writers
really have the glory of God at heart, they should rather
attempt to prove that he was a member of this race, which
has been so much despised. For, thereby, the grace of God
would surely be the more magnified. Have they never
heard that Jesus Christ came into the world to preach the
Gospel to the poor, to break the chains of the oppressed,
and raise up the bowed-down? Have they never heard that
the poor publican who, standing afar off, would not so much
as lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote his breast, and exclaimed:
“God be merciful to me, a sinner,” went down
justified rather than him who gave thanks for his not being
like other men, or even as that publican? Have they never
heard that God hath chosen the foolish things of the world
to confound the wise; and the weak things of the world to
confound the things which are mighty; and things which
are despised, yea, and things which are not, to bring to
naught things that are: that no flesh should glory in his
presence? I shall wait, with considerable curiosity, to see
whether the next editor, or biographer, of this illustrious
Gipsy will take any notice of the present work; or whether
he will dispose of it somewhat in this strain: “One of
Bunyan’s modern reviewers, by a strange mistake, construes
his self-disparaging admissions to mean that he was the offspring
of Gipsies!”
Sir Walter Scott admits that Bunyan was most probably
a “Gipsy reclaimed;” and Mr. Offor, that “his father must
have been a Gipsy.”[320] But, with these exceptions, I know
not if any writer upon Bunyan has more than hinted at
the possibility of even a connexion between him and the Gipsies.
It is very easy to account for all this, by the ignorance
of the world in regard to the Gipsy tribe, but, above all, by
the extreme prejudice of caste which is entertained against
it. Does caste exist nowhere but in India? Does an Englishman
feel curious to know what caste can mean? In few
parts of the world does caste reign so supreme, as it does in
Great Britain, towards the Gipsy nation. What is it but
the prejudice of caste that has prevented the world from
acknowledging Bunyan to have been a Gipsy? The evidence
of the fact of his having been a Gipsy is positive enough.
Will any one say that he does not believe that Bunyan
meant to convey to the world a knowledge of the fact of
his being a Gipsy? Or that he does not believe that the
tinkers are Gipsies? Has any writer on Bunyan ever taken
the trouble to ascertain who the tinkers really are; and
that, in consequence of his investigations, he has come to
the conclusion that they are not Gipsies? If no writer on
the subject of the illustrious dreamer has ever taken that
trouble, to what must we attribute the fact but the prejudice
of caste? It is caste, and nothing but caste. What is it
but the prejudice of caste that has led Lord Macaulay to
invent his story about the tinkers? For what he says of the
tinkers is a pure invention, or, at best, a delusion, on his part.
What is it but the prejudice of caste that has prevented
others from saying, plainly, that Bunyan was a Gipsy? It
would be more manly if they were to leave Bunyan alone,
than receive his works, and damn the man, that is, his blood.
It places them on the level of boors, when they allow themselves
to be swayed by the prejudices that govern boors.
When they speak of, or write about, Bunyan, let them exercise
common honesty, and receive both the man and the
man’s works: let them not be guilty of petit larceny, or
rather, great robbery, in the matter.
Southey, in his life of Bunyan, writes: “John Bunyan has
faithfully recorded his own spiritual history. Had he
dreamed of being ‘forever known,’ and taking his place
among those who may be called the immortals of the earth,
he would probably have introduced more details of his temporal
circumstances, and the events of his life. But, glorious
dreamer as he was, this never entered into his imagination.[321]
Less concerning him than might have been expected
has been preserved by those of his own sect; and it is not
likely that anything more should be recovered from oblivion.”
Remarks like these come with a singular grace from
a man with so many prejudices as Southey. John Bunyan has
told us as much of his history as he dared to do. It was a
subject upon which, in some respects, he doubtless maintained
a great reserve; for it cannot be supposed that a
man occupying so prominent and popular a position, as a
preacher and writer, and of so singular an origin, should
have had no investigations made into his history, and that
of his family; if not by his friends, at least, by his enemies,
who seemed to have been capable of doing anything to injure
and discredit him. But, very probably, his being a tinker
was, with friends and enemies, a circumstance so altogether
discreditable, as to render any investigation of the kind perfectly
superfluous. In mentioning that much of himself
which he did, Bunyan doubtless imagined that the world
understood, or would have understood, what he meant, and
would, sooner or later, acknowledge the race to which he
belonged. And yet it has remained in this unacknowledged
state for two centuries since his time. How unreasonable
it is to imagine that Bunyan should have said, in as many
words, that he was a Gipsy, when the world generally is so
apt to become fired with indignation, should we now say that
he was one of the race. How applicable are the words of
his wife, to Sir Matthew Hale, to the people of the present
day: “Because he is a tinker, and a poor man, he is despised,
and cannot have justice.”
Had Southey exercised that common sense which is the
inheritance of most of Englishmen, and divested himself of
this prejudice of caste, which is likewise their inheritance, he
never could have had any difficulty in forming a proper idea
of Bunyan, and everything concerning him. And the same
may be said of any person at the present day. John Bunyan
was simply a Gipsy of mixed blood, who must have
spoken the Gipsy language in great purity; for, considering
the extent to which it is spoken in England, to-day, we can
well believe that it was very pure two centuries ago, and
that Bunyan might have written works even in that language.
But such is the childish prejudice against the name
of Gipsy, such the silly incredulity towards the subject, that,
in Great Britain, and, I am sorry to say, with some people
in America, one has nearly as much difficulty in persuading
others to believe in it, as St. Paul had in inducing the
Greeks to believe in the resurrection of the dead. Why
seemeth it unto thee incredible that Bunyan was a Gipsy?
or that Bunyan’s race should now be found in every town,
in every village, and, perhaps, in every hamlet, in Scotland,
and in every sphere of life?[322]
To a candid and unprejudiced person, it should afford a
relief, in thinking of the immortal dreamer, that he should
have been a member of this singular race, emerging from a
state of comparative barbarism, and struggling upwards,
amid so many difficulties, rather than he should have been
of the very lowest of our own race; for in that case, there is
an originality and dignity connected with him personally,
that could not well attach to him, in the event of his having
belonged to the dregs of the common natives. Beyond being
a Gipsy, it is impossible to say what his pedigree really
was. His grandfather might have been an ordinary native,
even of fair birth, who, in a thoughtless moment, might
have “gone off with the Gipsies;” or his ancestor, on the
native side of the house, might have been one of the “many
English loiterers” who joined the Gipsies on their arrival
in England, when they were “esteemed and held in great
admiration;” or he might have been a kidnapped infant; or
such a “foreign tinker” as is alluded to in the Spanish
Gipsy edicts, and in the Act of Queen Elizabeth, in which
mention is made of “strangers,” as distinguished from natural
born subjects, being with the Gipsies. The last is most
probable, as the name, Bunyan, would seem to be of foreign
origin. It is, therefore, very likely, that there was not a
drop of common English blood in Bunyan’s veins. John
Bunyan belongs to the world at large, and England is only
entitled to the credit of the formation of his character. Be
all that as it may, Bunyan’s father seems to have been a superior,
and therefore important, man in the tribe, from the
feet, as Southey says, of his having “put his son to school in
an age when very few of the poor were taught to read and
write.”
The world never can do justice to Bunyan, unless it takes
him up as a Gipsy; nor can the Christian, unless he considers
him as being a Gipsy, in Abraham’s bosom. His
biographers have not, even in one instance, done justice to
him; for, while it is altogether out of the question to call
him the “wicked tinker,” the “depraved Bunyan,” it is unreasonable
to style him a “blackguard,” as Southey has done.
He might have been a blackguard in that sense in which a
youth, in a village, is termed a “young blackguard,” for
being the ringleader among the boys; or on account of his
wearing a ragged coat, and carrying a hairy wallet on his
shoulder, which, in a conventional sense, constitute any
man, in Great Britain, a blackguard. Bunyan’s sins were
confined to swearing, cursing, blaspheming, and lying; and
were rather intensely manifested by the impetuosity of his
character, or vividly described by the sincerity of his piety,
and the liveliness of his genius, than deeply rooted in
his nature; for he shook off the habit of swearing, (and,
doubtless, that of lying,) on being severely reproved for
it, by a loose and ungodly woman. Three of the kindred
vices mentioned, (and, we might add the fourth, lying,) more
frequently proceed from the influence of bad example and
habit, than from anything inherently vicious, in a youth
with so many of the good points which characterized Bunyan.
His youth was even marked by a tender conscience, and a
strong moral feeling; for thus he speaks of himself in
“Grace Abounding:” “But this I well remember, that
though I could myself sin, with the greatest delight and
ease, and also take pleasure in the vileness of my companions,
yet, even then, if I had, at any time, seen wicked
things in those who professed goodness, it would make my
spirit tremble. As, once above all the rest, when I was
in the height of vanity, yet hearing one swear that
was reckoned for a religious man, it had so great a
stroke upon my spirit, that it made my heart ache.” He
was the subject of these experiences before he was ten
years of age. It is unnecessary to speak of his dancing,
ringing bells, and playing at tip-cat and hockey. Now, let
us see what was Bunyan’s moral character. He was not a
drunkard; and he says: “I know not whether there be
such a thing as a woman breathing, under the copes of
heaven, but by their apparel, their children, or by common
fame, except my wife.” And he continues: “Had not a
miracle of precious grace prevented, I had laid myself open
even to the stroke of those laws which bring some to disgrace
and open shame, before the face of the world.” The
meaning of this is, evidently, that he never stole anything;
but that it was “by a miracle of precious grace” he was prevented
from doing it. In what sense, then, was Bunyan a
blackguard? There was never such occasion for him to say
of himself, what John Newton said of himself, as a criminal
passed him, on the way to the gallows: “There goes John
Bunyan, but for the grace of God.” But such was the
depth of Bunyan’s piety, that hardly any one thought and
spoke more disparagingly of himself than he did; although
he would defend himself, with indignation, against unjust
charges brought against him; for, however peaceable and
humble he might be, he would turn most manfully upon his
enemies, when they baited or badgered him. “It began,
therefore, to be rumoured, up and down among the people,
that I was a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman, and the like. . . . . I
also call those fools and knaves that have
thus made it anything of their business to affirm any of
these things aforesaid of me, namely, that I have been
naught with other women, or the like. . . . My foes
have missed their mark in this their shooting at me. I am
not the man. I wish that they themselves be guiltless. If
all the fornicators and adulterers in England were hanged
up by the neck till they be dead, John Bunyan, the object of
their envy, would be still alive and well.” The style of his
language even indicated the Gipsy; for English Gipsies, as
Mr. Borrow justly remarks, speak the English language
much better than the natives of the lower classes; for this
apparent reason, that they have not the dialect of any particular
part of England, which would be, were they always
to have resided in a particular place. It must have been
more so before the middle of the seventeenth century, upwards
of a hundred years after the arrival of the Gipsies in
England; for, in acquiring the English language, they would
keep clear of many of the rude dialects that so commonly
prevail in that country. But Bunyan’s language was, doubtless,
drawn principally from the Scriptures.
The illustrious pilgrim had many indignities cast upon
him, by the lower and unthinking classes of the population,
and by Quakers and strict Baptists. ‘Twas a man like
John Owen who knew how to appreciate and respect him;
for, said he to Charles II.: “I would readily part with all
my learning, could I but preach like the tinker.” And
what was it that supported Bunyan, amid all the abuse and
obloquy to which he was exposed, as he obeyed the call
of God, and preached the gospel, in season and out of season,
to every creature around him? When they sneered at his
origin, and the occupation from which he had risen, he
said: “Such insults I freely bind unto me, as an ornament,
among the rest of my reproaches, till the Lord shall wipe
them off at his coming.” And again: “The poor Christian
hath something to answer them that reproach him for his
ignoble pedigree, and shortness of the glory of the wisdom
of this world. I fear God. This is the highest and most
noble; he hath the honour, the life, and glory that is lasting.”[323]
In Great Britain, the off-scourings of the earth can say
who they are, and no prejudices are entertained against
them. Half-caste Hindoos, Malays, Hottentots, and Negroes,
are “sent home,” to be educated, and made pets of, and
have the choice of white women given to them for wives;
but the children of a Scottish Christian Gipsy gentleman,
or of a Scottish Christian Gipsy gentlewoman, dare not say
who they are, were it almost to save their lives. Scottish
people will wonder at what caste in India can mean, deplore
its existence, and pray to God to remove it, that “the
gospel may have free course and be glorified;” yet scowl—silently
and sullenly scowl—at the bare mention of John Bunyan
having been a Gipsy! Scottish religious journals will not
tolerate the idea to appear in their columns! To such people
I would say, Offer up no more prayers to Almighty God, to
remove caste from India, until they themselves have removed
from the land this prejudice of caste, that hangs like an
incubus upon so many of their fellow-subjects at home. It
is quite time enough to carry such petitions to the Deity,
when every Scottish Gipsy can make a return of himself in
the census, or proclaim himself a Gipsy at the cross, or from
the house-top, if need be; or, at least, after steps have been
taken by the public to that end. But some of my countrymen
may say: “What are we to do, under the circumstances?”
And I reply: “Endeavour to be yourselves, and
judge of this subject as it ought to be judged. You can, at
least, try to guard against your children acquiring your
own prejudices.” To the rising town generation, I would
look with more hope to see a better feeling entertained for
the name of Gipsy. But I look with more confidence to
the English than Scottish people; for this question of “folk”
is very apt to rankle and fester in the Scottish mind. I
wish, then, that the British, and more especially the
Scottish, public should consider itself as cited before the
bar of the world, and not only the bar of the world, but
the bar of posterity, to plead on the Gipsy question, that it
may be seen if this is the only instance in which justice is
not to be done to a part of the British population. With
the evidence furnished in the present work, I submit the
name of Bunyan, as a case in point, to test the principle
at issue. Let British people beware how they approach
this subject, for there are great principles involved in it.
The social emancipation of the Gipsies is a question which
British people have to consider for the future.
The day is gone by when it cannot be said who John
Bunyan was. In Cowper’s time, his name dare not be mentioned,
“lest it should move a sneer.” Let us hope that we
are living in happier times. Tinkering was Bunyan’s occupation;
his race the Gipsy—a fact that cannot be questioned.
His having been a Gipsy adds, by contrast, a lustre to his
name, and reflects an immortality upon his character; and
he stands out, from among all the men of the latter half of
the seventeenth century, in all his solitary grandeur, a monument
of the grace of God, and a prodigy of genius. Let
us, then, enroll John Bunyan as the first (that is known to
the world) of eminent Gipsies, the prince of allegorists, and
one of the most remarkable of men and Christians. What
others of this race there may be who have distinguished
themselves among mankind, are known to God and, it may
be, some of the Gipsies. The saintly Doctor to whom I have
alluded was one of this singular people; and one beyond
question, for his admission of the fact cannot be denied by
any one. Any life of John Bunyan, or any edition of his
works, that does not contain a record of the fact of his
having been a Gipsy, lacks the most important feature connected
with the man that makes everything relating to him
personally interesting to mankind. It should even contain
a short dissertation on the Gipsies, and have, as a frontispiece,
a Gipsy’s camp, with all its appurtenances. The
reader may believe that such a thing may be seen, and that,
perhaps, not before long.
It strikes me as something very singular, that Mr. Borrow,
“whose acquaintance with the Gipsy race, in general, dates
from a very early period of his life;” who “has lived more
with Gipsies than Scotchmen;” and than whom “no one
ever enjoyed better opportunities for a close scrutiny of their
ways and habits,” should have told us so little about the
Gipsies. In all his writings on the Gipsies, he alludes to
two mixed Gipsies only—the Spanish half-pay captain, and
the English flaming tinman—in a way as if these were the
merest of accidents, and meant nothing. He has told us
nothing of the Gipsies but what was known before, with
the exception, as far as my memory serves me, of the custom
of the Spanish Gipsy, dressing her daughter in such a way
as to protect her virginity; the existence of the tribe, in a
civilized state, in Moscow; and the habit of the members of
the race possessing two names; all of which are, doubtless,
interesting pieces of information. The Spanish Gipsy marriage
ceremony was described, long before him, by Dr.
Bright; and Twiss, as far back as 1723, bears testimony to
the virtue of Gipsy females, inasmuch as they were not to
be procured in any way. Twiss also bears very positive
testimony on a point to which Mr. Borrow has not alluded,
viz.: the honesty of Spanish Gipsy innkeepers, in one respect,
at least, that, although he frequently left his linen,
spoons, &c., at their mercy, he never lost an article belonging
to him. He alludes, in his travels, to the subject of the
Gipsies incidentally; and his testimony is, therefore, worthy
of every credit, on the points on which he speaks. In Mr.
Borrow’s writings upon the Gipsies, we find only sketches
of certain individuals of the race, whom he seems to have
fallen in with, and not a proper account of the nation. These
writings have done more injury to the tribe than, perhaps,
anything that ever appeared on the subject. I have met
with Gipsies—respectable young men—who complained bitterly
of Mr. Borrow’s account of their race; and they did
that with good reason; for his attempt at generalization on
the subject of the people, is as great a curiosity as ever I set
my eyes upon. How unsatisfactory are Mr. Borrow’s opinions
on the Gipsy question, when he speaks of the “decadence”
of the race, when it is only passing from its first stage
of existence—the tent. This he does in his Appendix to the
Romany Rye; and it is nearly all that can be drawn from
his writings on the Gipsies, in regard to their future history.
I do not expect to meet among American people, generally,
with the prejudice against the name of Gipsy that prevails
in Europe; for, in Europe, the prejudice is traditional—a
question of the nursery—while, in America, it is derived,
for the most part, from novels. American people will, of
course, form their own opinion upon the tented or any other
kind of Gipsies, as their behaviour warrants; but what
prejudice can they have for the Gipsy race as such? As a
race, it is, physically, as fine a one as ever came out of Asia;
although, at the present day, it is so much mixed with the
white blood, as hardly to be observable in many, and absolutely
not so in others, who follow the ordinary vocations of
other men. What prejudice can Americans have against
Gipsy blood as such? What prejudice can they have to the
Maryland farmers who have been settled, for at least two generations,
near Annapolis, merely because they are Gipsies and
speak Gipsy? If there is any people in the world who might
be expected to view the subject of the Gipsies dispassionately,
it ought to be the people of America; for surely they have
prejudices enough in regard to race; prejudices, the object
of which is independent of character or condition—something
that stares them in the face, and cannot be got rid of.
If they have the practical sagacity to perceive the bearings
of the Gipsy question, they should at once take it up, and
treat it in the manner which the age demands. They have
certainly an opportunity of stealing a march upon English
people in this matter.
Part of what I have said in reference to Bunyan, I was desirous
of having inserted in a respectable American religious
journal, but I did not succeed in it. “It would take up
too much room in the paper, and give rise to more discussion
than they could afford to print.”—“Perhaps you would
not wish it to be said that John Bunyan was a Gipsy?”—“Oh,
not at all,” replied the editor, colouring up a little. I found
that several of these papers devoted a pretty fair portion
of their space to such articles as funny monkey stories, and
descriptions of rat-trap and cow-tail-holder patents; but for
anything of so very little importance as that which referred
to John Bunyan, they could afford no room whatever. Who
cared to know who John Bunyan was? What purpose could
it serve? Who would be benefited by it? But funny monkey
stories are pleasant reading; every housewife should
know how to keep down her rats; and every farmer should
be taught how to keep his cows’ tails from whisking their
milk in his face, while it is being drawn into the pail. Not
succeeding with the religious papers, I found expression to
my sentiments in one of the “ungodly weeklies,” which devote
their columns to rats, monkeys, and cows, and a little
to mankind; and there I found a feeling of sympathy for
Bunyan. Let it not be said, in after times, that the descendants
of the Puritans allowed themselves to be frightened by
a scare-crow, or put to flight by the shake of a rag.
I am afraid that the native-born quarrelsomeness of disposition
about “folk,” and things in general, which characterizes
Scottish people, will prove a bar to the Gipsies owning
themselves up in Scotland. Go into any Scottish village
you like, and ascertain the feelings which the inhabitants
entertain for each other, and you will find that such a one
is a “poor grocer body;” that another belongs to a “shoemaker
pack,” another to a “tailor pack,” another to a “cadger
pack,” another to a “collier pack,” and another to a “low
Tinkler pack;” another to a “bad nest,” and another to a
“very bad nest.” And it is pretty much the same with the
better classes. Now, how could the Gipsy tribe live amid
such elements, if it did not keep everything connected with
itself hidden from all the other “packs” surrounding it?
And is it consonant with reason to say, that a Scotchman
should be rated as standing at the bottom of all the various
“packs” and “nests,” simply because he has Gipsy blood
in his veins? Yet, I meet with Scotchmen in the New
World, who express such a feeling towards the Gipsies.
This quarrelling about “folk” reigns supreme in Scotland;
and, what is worse, it is brought with the people to America.
It is inherent in them to be personal and intolerant,
among themselves, and to talk of, and sneer at, each other,
and “cast up things.” In that respect, a community of
Scotch people presents a peculiarity of mental feeling that
is hardly to be found in one of any other people. When
they come together, in social intercourse, there is frequently,
if not generally, a hearty, if not a boisterous, flow of feeling,
and, if the bottle contributes to the entertainment, a foam
upon the surface; but the under-tow and ground-swell are
frequently long in subsiding. Even in America, where they
are reputed to have the clanishness of Jews, we will find
within their respective circles, more heart-burnings, jealousies,
envyings, and quarrellings, (but little or no Irish fighting,
for they are rather given to “taking care of their
characters,”) than is to be found among almost any other
people. At the best, there may be said to be an armed
truce always to be found existing among them. Still, all
that is not known to people outside of these circles; for
those within them are animated by a common national
sentiment, which leads them to conceal such feelings from
others, so as to “uphold the credit of their country,” wherever
they go. It will be a difficult matter to get the Gipsies
heartily acknowledged among such elements as equals;
for it makes many a native Scot wild, to tell him that there
are Scottish Gipsies as good, if not better, men than he is,
or any kith or kin that belongs to him.
And yet, it is not the Scottish gentleman—the gentleman
by birth, rearing, education, mind, or manners—who will be
backward to assist in raising up, and dignifying, the name of
Gipsy. No; it will be the low-minded and ignorant Scots;
people who are always either fawning upon, or sneering at,
those above them, or trampling, or attempting to trample,
upon those below them. It is very apt to be that class
which Lord Jeffrey describes as “having a double allowance
of selfishness, with a top-dressing of pedantry and conceit,”
and some of the “but and ben” gentry, who will sneer
most at the word Gipsy. It is the flunkey, who lives and
brings up his family upon the cast-off clothes and broken
victuals of others, and out for whom such things would find
their way to the rag-basket and the pigs; ‘tis he and his
children who are too often the most difficult to please in the
matter of descent, and the most likely to perpetuate the
prejudice against the Gipsy tribe.
I have taken some trouble to ascertain the feelings of
Scotchmen in America towards the Scottish Gipsies, such as
they are represented in these pages; and I find that, among
the really educated and liberally brought up classes, there
are not to be discovered those prejudices against them, that
are expressed by the lower classes, and especially those from
country places. It is natural for the former kind of people
to take the most liberal view of a question like the present;
for they are, in a measure, satisfied with their position in
life; while, with the lower classes, it is a feeling of restless
discontentment that leads them to strive to get some one
under them. No one would seem to like to be at the bottom
of any society; and nowhere less so than in Scotland. A
good education and up-bringing, and a knowledge of the
world, likewise give a person a more liberal cast of mind,
wherewith to form an opinion upon the subject of the Gipsies;
and it is upon such that I would mainly rely in an
attempt to raise up the name of Gipsy. Among the lower
classes of my own countrymen, I find individuals all that
could be desired in the matter of esteeming the Gipsies, according
to the characters they bear, and the positions they
occupy in life; but they are exceptions to the classes to
which they belong. Here is a specimen of the kind of Scot
the most difficult to break in to entertaining a proper feeling
upon the subject of the Gipsies:
By birth, he is a child of that dependent class that gets a
due share of the broken victuals and cast-off clothes of other
people. His parents are decent and honest enough people,
but very conceited and self-sufficient. Any person in the
shape of a mechanic, a labourer, or a peasant, appears as
nobody to them; although, in independence, and even circumstances,
they are not to be compared to many a peasant.
The “oldest bairn” takes his departure for the New World,
“with the firm determination to show to the world that he is
a man,” and “teach the Yankees something.” The first
thing he does to “show the world that he is a man,” is to
sneer, behave rudely, and attempt to pick quarrels with a
better class of his own countrymen, when he comes in contact
with them. Providence has not been over-indulgent
with him in the matters of perceptors or reflectors; for, what
little he knows, he has acquired in the manner that chickens
pick up their food, when it is placed before them. But he has
been gifted with a wonderful amount of self-conceit, which
nothing can break down in him, however much it may be
abashed for the moment. No one boasts more of his “family,”
to those who do not know who his family are, although
his family were brought up in a cage, and so small a cage,
that some of them must have roosted on the spars overhead
at night. No one is more independent, none more patriotic;
no one boasts more of Wallace and Bruce, Burns and Scott,
and all the worthies; to him there is no place in the world
like “auld Scotland yet;” no one glories more in “the noble
qualities of the Scot;” and none’s face burns with more importance
in upholding, unchallenged, what he claims to be
his character; yet the individual is a compound of conceit
and selfishness, meanness and sordidness, and is estimated,
wherever he goes, as a “perfect sweep.” Although no one
is more given to toasting, “Brithers a’ the world o’er,” and,
“A man’s a man for a’ that,” yet speak of the Gipsies to him,
and he exclaims: “Thank God! there’s no a drap o’
Gipsy blood in me; no one drap o’t!” Not only is he unable
to comprehend the subject, but he is unwilling to hear
the word Gipsy mentioned. In short, he turns up his nose
at the subject, and howls like a dog.[324]
It is the better kind of Scottish people, in whatever sphere
of life they are to be found, on whom the greatest reliance
is to be placed in raising up and dignifying the word Gipsy.
This peculiar family of mankind has been fully three centuries
and a half in the country, and it is high time that it
should be acknowledged, in some form or other; high time,
certainly, that we should know something about it. To an
intelligent people it must appear utterly ridiculous that a
prejudice is to be entertained against any Scotchman, without
knowing who that Scotchman is, merely on account of
his blood. Nor will any intelligent Scotchman, after the
appearance of this work, be apt to say that he does not understand
the subject of the Gipsies; or that they cease to
be Gipsies by leaving the tent, or by a change of character
or habits, or by their blood getting mixed. It will not do
for any one to snap at the heels of this question: he must
look at it steadily, and approach it with a clear head, a firm
hand, and a Christian heart, and remove this stigma that has
been allowed to attach to his country. No one in particular
can be blamed for the position which the Gipsies occupy
in the country: let by-gones be by-gones; let us look to the
future for that expression of opinion which the subject calls
for. This much I feel satisfied of, that if the Gipsy subject
is properly handled, it would result in the name becoming as
much an object of respect and attachment in many of the
race, as it is now considered a reproach in others. There
is much that is interesting in the name, and nothing necessarily
low or vulgar associated with it; although there is
much that is wild and barbarous connected with the descent,
which is peculiar to the descent of all original tribes. It is
unnecessary to say, that in a part of the race, we still find
much that is wild, and barbarous, and roguish.
The latter part of the Gipsy nation, whether settled or
itinerant, must be reached indirectly, for reasons which have
already been given; for it does not serve much purpose to
interfere too directly with them, as Gipsies. We should
bring a reflective influence to bear upon them, by holding
up to their observation, some of their own race in respectable
positions in life, and respected by the world, as men,
though not known to be Gipsies. I could propose no better
plan to be adopted, with some of these people, than to give
them a copy of the present work, along with the Pilgrim’s
Progress, containing a short account of the Gipsies, and a
Gipsy’s encampment for a frontispiece. The world may
well believe that the Gipsies would read both of them, and
be greatly benefited by the Pilgrim’s Progress; for, as a
race, they are exceedingly vain about anything connected
with themselves. Said I to some English Gipsies: “You
are the vainest people in the world; you think a vast deal
of yourselves.” “There is good reason for that,” they replied;
“if we do not think something of ourselves, there
are no others to do it for us.” Now since John Bunyan has
become so famous throughout the world, and so honoured by
all sects and parties, what an inimitable instrument Providence
has placed in our hands wherewith to raise up the
name of Gipsy! Through him we can touch the heart of
Christendom! I am well aware that the Church of Scotland
has, or at least had, a mission among the itinerant
Scottish Gipsies. In addition to the means adopted by this
mission, to improve these Gipsies, it would be well to take
such steps as I have suggested, so as to raise up the name of
Gipsy. For, in this way, the Gipsies, of all classes, would
see that they are not outcasts; but that the prejudices which
people entertain for them are applicable to their ways of
life, only, and not to their blood or descent, tribe or language.
Their hearts would then become more easily touched, their
affections more readily secured; and the attempt made to
improve them would have a much better chance of being
successful. A little judgment is necessary in conducting an
intercourse with the wild Gipsy, or, indeed, any kind of
Gipsy; it is very advisable to speak well of “the blood,”
and never to confound the race with the conduct of part of
it. There is hardly anything that can give a poor Gipsy
greater pleasure than to tell him something about his people,
and particularly should they be in a respectable position in
life, and be attached to their nation. It serves no great
purpose to appear too serious with such a person, for that
soon tires him. It is much better to keep him a little buoyant
and cheerful, with anecdotes and stories, for that is his
natural character; and to take advantage of occasional opportunities,
to slip in advices that are to be of use to him.
What is called long-facedness is entirely thrown away upon
a Gipsy of this kind.
I am very much inclined to believe that a Gipsy, well up
in the scale of Scottish society, experiences, in one respect,
nearly the same feelings in coming in contact with a wild
Gipsy, that are peculiar to any other person. These are of
a very singular nature. At first, we feel as if we were going
into the lair of a wild animal, or putting our finger into
a snake’s mouth; such is the result of the prejudice in which
we have been reared from infancy; but these feelings become
greatly modified as we get accustomed to the people.
The world has never had the opportunity of fairly contemplating
any other kind of Gipsy; hence the extreme prejudice
against the name. But when we get accustomed to
meet with other kinds of Gipsies, and have associations
with them, the feeling of prejudice changes to that of decided
interest and attachment. I have met with various
Scottish Gipsies of the female sex, in America, and, among
others, one who could sit any day for an ideal likeness of the
mother of Burns. She takes little of the Gipsy in her appearance.
There is another, taking greatly after the Gipsy,
born in Scotland, and reared in America; a very fine motherly
person, indeed. I cannot, at the present stage of matters,
mention the word Gipsy to her, but I know very well
that she is a Gipsy. It takes some time for the feeling of
prejudice for the word Gipsy to wear off, when contemplating
even a passable kind of Gipsy. That object would be
much more easily attained, were the people to own “the
blood,” unreservedly and cheerfully; for the very reserve,
to a great extent, creates, at least keeps alive, the prejudice.
But that cannot well take place till the word “Gipsy” bears
the signification of gentleman, in some of the race, as it does
of vagabond, in others.
Some of my readers may still ask: “What is a Gipsy,
after all that has been said upon the subject? Since it is
not necessarily a question of colour of face, or hair, or eyes,
or of creed, or character, or of any outward thing by which
a human being can be distinguished; what is it that constitutes
a Gipsy?” And I reply: “Let them read this work
through, and thoroughly digest all its principles, and they
can feel what a Gipsy is, should they stumble upon one, it
may be, in their own sphere of life, and hear him, or her,
admit the fact, and speak unreservedly of it. They will then
feel their minds rubbing against the Gipsy mind, their spirits
communing with the Gipsy spirit, and experience a peculiar
mental galvanic shock, which they never felt before.”[325]
It is impossible to say where the Gipsy soul may not exist
at the present day, for there is this peculiarity about the
tribe, as I have said before, that it always remains Gipsy,
cross it out to the last drop of the original blood; for where
that drop goes, the Gipsy soul accompanies it.[326]
It is the Christian who should be the most ready to take
up and do justice to this subject; for he will find in it a
very singular work of Providence—the most striking phenomenon
in the history of man. In Europe, the race has existed,
in an unacknowledged state, for a greater length of
time than the Jews dwelt in Egypt. And it is time that it
should be introduced to the family of mankind, in its aspect
of historical development; embracing, as in Scotland, members
ranging from what are popularly understood to be Gipsies,
to those filling the first positions in Christian and social
society. After perusing the present work, the reader will
naturally pass on to reconsider the subject of the Jews; and
he will perceive that, instead of its being a miracle by which
the Jews have existed since the dispersion, it would have
been a miracle had they been lost among the families of mankind.
It is quite sufficient for the Christian to know that
the Jews now exist, and that they have fulfilled, and will
yet fulfill, the prophecies that have been delivered in regard
to them, without holding that any miracle has been wrought
for that end. A Christian ought to be more considerate in
his estimate of what a miracle is: he ought to know that a
miracle is something that is contrary to natural laws; and
that the existence of the Jews, since the dispersion, is in
exact harmony with every natural law. He should not maintain
that it is a miracle, for nothing having the decent
appearance of an argument can be advanced in support
of any such theory; and far less should he, with his eyes
open, do what the writer on the Christian Evidences, alluded
to, (page 459,) did, with his shut—gamble away
both law and gospel.[327] He might give his attention,
however, to a prophecy of Moses, quoted by St. Paul, in
Rom. x. 19, from Deut. xxxii. 21, wherein it is said of the
Jews: “I will provoke you to jealousy by them that are
no people, and by a foolish nation I will anger you;” and
lend his assistance towards its fulfillment.[328] The subject
of the Gipsies is certainly calculated to do all that the
prophet said would happen to the Jews; if Christians will
only do their duty to them, and, by playing them off against
the Jews, provoke and anger Israel beyond measure. That
the Jews have existed, since the dispersion, by the Providence
of God, is what can be said of any other people, and
more especially of the Gipsies for the last four centuries
and a half in Europe. It is as natural for the Gipsies to
exist in their scattered state, as for other nations by the laws
that preserve their identity; and although their history may
be termed remarkable, it is in no sense of the word miraculous,
notwithstanding the superstitious ideas held by many
of the Gipsies on that head, in common with the Jews regarding
their history. A thousand years hence the Gipsies
will be found existing in the world; for, as a people, they
cannot die out; and the very want of a religion peculiar to
themselves is one of the means that will contribute to that
end.[329] It is the Christian who should endeavour to have
the prejudice against the name of Gipsy removed, so that
every one of the race should freely own his blood to the
other, and make it the basis of a kindly feeling, and a bond
of brotherhood, all around the world.
I may be allowed to say a word or two to the Gipsies,
and more especially the Scottish Gipsies. I wish them to
believe, (what they, indeed, believe already,) that their blood
and descent are good enough; and that Providence may
reasonably be assumed to look upon both with as much complacency
and satisfaction, as He does on any other blood and
descent. All that they have to do is to “behave themselves;”
for, after all, it is behaviour that makes the man.
By all means “stick to the ship,” but sail her as an honourable
merchantman. They need not be afraid at being discovered
to be Gipsies; they should feel as much assured
on the subject now, as before the publication of this work,
and never entertain the least misgiving on that score. They
will have an occasion to cultivate a proper degree of confidence
in respect to themselves, and be so prepared as never
to commit themselves, if they wish not to be known as Gipsies.
I know there are few people who have nerve enough
so to deport themselves, as to prevent moral detection, who
have committed murder, when they are confronted with the
objects of it; but if the individuals are perfectly satisfied
of there being no evidence against them, they may confidently
assume an appearance of innocence. It is so with
the Gipsies in settled life, as to their being Gipsies. Generally
speaking, their blood is so much mixed as almost to
defy detection; although, for the future, some of them will
be very apt to look at themselves in their mirrors, to see
whether there is much of the “black deil” in their faces.
But it rests with themselves to escape detection, and particularly
so as regards the fair, brown, and red Gipsies.
I may also be allowed to say a word or two to the Church,
and people generally. It says little for them, that, although
two centuries have elapsed since Bunyan’s time, no one has
acknowledged him. It surely might have occurred to them
to ask, 1stly: What was that particular family, or tribe, of
which Bunyan said he was a member? 2ndly: Who are
the tinkers? 3dly: What was the meaning of Bunyan entertaining
so much solicitude, and undergoing so much
trouble, to ascertain whether he, (a common Englishman,
forsooth!) was a Jew, or not? 4thly: Was John Bunyan
a Gipsy? Let my reader reply to these questions, like a
man of honour. Aye or nay, was John Bunyan a Gipsy?
“He was a Gipsy.”
In modern times people will preach the gospel “around
about Illyricum,” compass sea and land, and penetrate
every continent, to bring home Christian trophies; while in
Bunyan they have a trophy—a real case of “grace abounding;”
and yet no one has acknowledged him, although his
fame will be as lasting as the pyramids. John Bunyan was
evidently a man who was raised up by God for some great
purposes. One of these purposes he has served, and will
yet serve; and it becomes us to enquire what further purpose
he is destined to serve. It is showing a poor respect
for Bunyan’s memory, to deny him his nationality, to rob
him of his birth-right, and attempt to make him out to have
been that which he positively was not. To gratify their
own prejudices, people would degrade the illustrious dreamer,
from being this great original, into being the off-scourings
of all England. People imagine that they would degrade
Bunyan by saying that he was a Gipsy. They degrade
themselves who do not believe he was a Gipsy; they doubly
degrade themselves who deny it. Jews may well taunt
Christians in the matter of evidences, and that on a simple
matter of fact, affecting no one’s interests, temporal or eternal,
and as clear as the sun at mid-day; for by Bunyan’s
own showing he was a Gipsy; but if any further evidence
was wanted, how easily could it not have been collected, any
time during the last two hundred years!
I have hitherto got the “cold shoulder” from the organs
of most of the religious denominations on this subject: time
will show whether it is always to be so. The Church should
know what is its mission: it rests on evidence itself, and it
should be the first to follow out its own principles. It
should fight its own battles, and give the enemy no occasion
to speak reproachfully of it. In approaching this subject, it
would be well to do it cheerfully, and gracefully, and manfully,
and not as if the person were dragged to it, with a
rope around his neck. No one need imagine that by keeping
quiet, this matter will blow over. For the Gipsy race
cannot die out; nor is this work likely to die out soon; for
unless it is superseded by some other, it will come up centuries
hence, to judge the present generation on the Gipsy
question. May such as have written on the great dreamer
never lift up their heads, may his works turn to hot coals in
their fingers, may their memories be outlawed, if they allow
this unchristian, this unmanly, this silly, this childish, prejudice
of caste to prevent them from doing justice to their
hero. Nor need any one utter a murmur at the prospect of
seeing the Pilgrim’s Progress prefaced by a dissertation on
the Gipsies, with a Gipsy’s camp for a frontispiece. Such a feeling
may be expressed by boors, snobs, and counterfeit religionists;
but better things are to be expected from other people.
Let the reader now pause, and reflect upon the prejudice
of caste that exists against the name of Gipsy, and he will
fully realize how it is that we should know so little about
the Gipsies, and why it is that the Gipsies, as they leave
the tent, should hide their nationality from the rest of the
world, and “stick to each other.”
In bringing this Disquisition on the Gipsies to a close, I
may be allowed to say a word or two to some of the critics.
In the first place, I may venture to assert, that the subject is
worthy of a criticism the most disinterested and profound.
I am well aware that the publication of the work places me
in a position antagonistic alike to authors and critics who
have written on the subject, as well as to the prejudices of
mankind generally. If critics call in question any of the
facts contained in the production, they must give their
authorities; if they controvert any of the principles, they
must give their reasons. It will not do to play the ostrich
instead of the critic. For as the ostrich is said to hide its
head in the sand, or in a bush, or, it may be, under its wing,
and imagine that because it sees no one, so no one sees it;
so there are people, sometimes to be met with, who will not
only imagine, but assert, that because they know nothing of
a thing, or because they do not understand it, therefore, the
thing itself does not exist. This was the way in which
Bruce’s travels in Africa were received. But we are not
living in those times. Procedure such as that described, is
playing the ostrich, not the critic. I refer more particularly,
however, to what is contained in this Disquisition. Taking
the work all through, I think there are sufficient materials
contained in it, to enable the critics to settle the various
questions among themselves.
To place myself in a position a little independent of publishers,
(for I have had great difficulty in finding a publisher,)
I had the Introduction, (pages 55-67), printed, and circulated
among some acquaintances in Canada, for subscribers.[330] A
copy of it fell into the hands of an intelligent Scottish
newspaper editor, in a small community, where every one
knows every other’s business nearly as well as his own, and
where all about the Prospectus was explained to those to
whom it was given. It seems to have frightened and enraged
the editor to such an extent, that I entertain little
doubt he did not sleep comfortably, for nights in succession,
on finding that subject brought to light at his own door,
which has been considered, by some, as well-nigh dead and
buried long ago. He imagines the circulation of the Prospectus
to be confined pretty much to his own neighbourhood;
and so he must crush the horrible thing out. But what can
he say about it? How put it down? A capital idea occurs
to him; he will father it upon Barnum! Let the reader
glance again at the Introduction, and imagine how a Scotchman,
well posted up on Scotch affairs, past and present,
should credit Barnum with the production. He heads his
criticism, “The science of humbug,” and, in some long and
bitter paragraphs, pitches into what he calls American literary
quackery; the substance of which is, that the work
represented by the Prospectus, is a rare tit-bit of genuine,
Barnumized, American humbug!
He finds, however, that he has gone much too far in his
description of the Prospectus; so he comes tumbling down
a long way from the high position which he took at the start,
and continues: “Now, we do not, at present, venture the
assertion that the forthcoming ‘Scottish Gipsies’ is a Yankee
get-up, a mere American humbug; but we say the Prospectus
savours strongly of the Barnum school; and our reasons
for so saying are the following: Firstly: It would be nothing
less than a literary miracle, that a Scottish work of sufficient
merit to command the highest commendations of Sir
Walter Scott, and Blackwood’s Magazine, should be published,
first of all in America, thirty years afterwards—published,
by subscription, at one dollar, in a book of 400 pages.
We assert, positively, that of such a work William Blackwood,
alone, could have disposed of five thousand copies, at
double the proposed price. [He is well acquainted with the
prices of books in the two countries.] Secondly: There is
no evidence to connect Sir Walter Scott’s note to Quentin
Durward with Walter Simson, or any other particular individual;
and the same may be said of the jingle of Professor
Wilson, and the other allusions in Blackwood’s Magazine.
Thirdly: There is neither danger nor difficulty in writing
anything you please, and telling the public it is an extract
of a private letter you had from some particular man of
eminence, thirty years ago, provided your eminent friend
has been many years in his grave. Such a fraud is not easily
detected. And Fourthly: The reason assigned for publishing
the ‘Scottish Gipsies’ . . . . . is totally upset by
the simple fact, that there are no such people in existence, in
so far as Scotland is concerned. [What an audacity he displays
here! What a liberty he takes with the Scotch settlers
in his neighbourhood! He is evidently afraid that he
has gone too far; so he qualifies what he has said, by adding:]
There are, it is true, a few families of itinerant tinkers,
or Tinklers, according to our peculiar vernacular, who
stroll the country, and subsist by making horn-spoons and
sauce-pans, which they barter with the rural peasantry, for
potatoes and other eatables. They are generally wild, reckless,
and dishonest, and are a terror to children and old
women. In nineteen cases out of twenty, they are natives
of Ireland; and were any person idle enough to trace their
genealogy, he would discover that their ancestors, not more
than three generations back, were honest brogue-makers,
pig-drovers, or, it may be, members of some more elevated
occupation. [He has been ‘idle enough’ to give us a very
odd account of the descent, in two senses of the word, of
the Irish tinkering Gipsies now in Scotland.] The writer
of these remarks is well acquainted with almost the whole
Lowlands, and a portion of the West Highlands. He has
been familiar with the shires of Fife and Linlithgow, with
Annandale, the Upper Ward of Lanarkshire, and the other
fabulously reputed haunts of the Gipsies [he seems to
have done a little tramping in his time]; and he never saw
twenty Scottish Tinklers in his whole life, nor one single individual
corresponding to the description we have received
of the Gipsies. [He has told us who the Irish Tinklers in
Scotland were originally, but does not venture to say anything
of the Scottish ones. He will not admit that there
is a Gipsy in Scotland, or ever has been; and virtually
denies that there are Gipsies in England; for he continues:]
The nearest approach to the character is the hawkers from
the Staffordshire potteries, who are found living in tents by
the way-side, throughout the North Riding of Yorkshire, and
the five northern counties of England. These are a kind of
savages, who live in families, strolling the country, in large
caravans, consisting frequently of half a dozen canvas-covered
wagons and twice that number of horses. . . . . .
These characters often cross the Border, at Langholm and
Gretna Green, and infest Annandale, Roxburghshire, Dumfries-shire,
and the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. [He will
not allude to the tented Gipsies in England.]
“These two classes of foreign vagrants [why does he call
them foreign vagrants? why not say Gipsies?] which we
mention, are to be found, occasionally, in certain localities of
Scotland, [still nothing said of the Scottish Tinklers,] and
are to be found as a dreaded, dangerous nuisance. But the
idea of a race of Scottish Tinklers, or Scottish Gipsies, existing
as a distinct and separate people, possessing a native,
independent language, and peculiar habits, rites, and ceremonies,
and bearing, in many features of their barbarous customs,
and outcast destiny, a resemblance to the vagabond
Jews; such an idea, we say, has as little foundation in fact,
as has Swift’s story of the Lilliputians, or the romance of
Guy Mannering itself! [It is astonishing what he would
not attempt to palm upon the public. Still, he is evidently
afraid that the subject will, somehow or other, bite him; and,
after all that he has said, he concludes:] Still, we do not,
at present, assert that the Prospectus we have received is
another ‘cute move of American humbug; but we do say,
if there is a James Simson in existence, who possesses such
a manuscript, and such commendations of it as are set forth
in this Prospectus, he has already erred sufficiently far to ensure
his identification with Yankee quackery. He has been
Barnumized into an egregious blunder.” [He is bound to
discredit the whole affair, under any circumstances, even at
the expense of the plainest consistency.]
Well might a brother editor reply to the foregoing, thus:
“The bile of our excellent friend has just been agitated after
a pestilent fashion. . . . . . The announcement [of
the intended publication] hath all the ungenial effects upon
our gossip that the exhibition of a pair of scarlet decencies
produces upon a cranky bull. . . . . . Now, just listen
to us quietly for a little. More than two years ago, the
manuscript of the above-mentioned treatise on the Scoto-Egyptians
came under our ken. We perused the affair with
special appetite, and were decidedly of opinion that its publication
would be a grateful and important boon to the republic
of letters. Mr. Simson is neither a myth nor a disciple
of Barnum.” Upon the back of this, the first editor
writes: “We are pleased to be informed that the work is a
bona fide production, and that Mr. Simson is no Yankee
fiction. [As if he did not know that from the first.] And
albeit he, [the other editor,] furnisheth neither facts nor
arguments to satisfy us that our notions of the Gipsies of
Scotland are heretical, we willingly accept his recommend
that the ‘Scottish Gipsies’ will be, at least, an entertaining
book, and reserve all further remarks till we see it.”[!]
The foregoing is a very curious criticism; and although I
could say a great deal more about it, I refrain from doing so.
[543]