[189] Before considering this trait in the character of the Scottish Gipsies, it may interest the reader to know that the same peculiarity obtains among those on the continent.

Of the Hungarian Gipsies, Grellmann writes: “It will be recollected, from the first, how great a secret they make of their language, and how suspicious they appear when any person wishes to learn a few words of it. Even if the Gipsy is not perverse, he is very inattentive, and is consequently likely to answer some other rather than the true Gipsy word.”

Of the Hungarian Gipsies, Bright says: “No one, who has not had experience, can conceive the difficulty of gaining intelligible information, from people so rude, upon the subject of their language. If you ask for a word, they give you a whole sentence; and on asking a second time, they give the sentence a totally different turn, or introduce some figure altogether new. Thus it was with our Gipsy, who, at length, tired of our questions, prayed most piteously to be released; which we granted him, only on condition of his returning in the evening.”

Of the Spanish Gipsies, Mr. Borrow writes: “It is only by listening attentively to the speech of the Gitanos, whilst discoursing among themselves, that an acquaintance with their dialect can be formed, and by seizing upon all unknown words, as they fall in succession from their lips. Nothing can be more useless and hopeless than the attempt to obtain possession of their vocabulary, by enquiring of them how particular objects and ideas are styled in the same; for, with the exception of the names of the most common things, they are totally incapable, as a Spanish writer has observed, of yielding the required information; owing to their great ignorance, the shortness of their memories, or, rather, the state of bewilderment to which their minds are brought by any question which tends to bring their reasoning faculties into action; though, not unfrequently, the very words which have been in vain required of them will, a minute subsequently, proceed inadvertently from their mouths.”

What has been said by the two last-named writers is very wide of the mark; Grellmann, however, hits it exactly. The Gipsies have excellent memories. It is all they have to depend on. If they had not good memories, how could they, at the present day, speak a word of their language at all? The difficulty in question is down-right shuffling, and not a want of memory on the part of the Gipsy. The present chapter will throw some light on the subject. Even Mr. Borrow himself gives an ample refutation to his sweeping account of the Spanish Gipsies, in regard to their language; for, in another part of his work, he says: “I recited the Apostles’ Creed to the Gipsies, sentence by sentence, which they translated as I proceeded. They exhibited the greatest eagerness and interest in their unwonted occupation, and frequently broke into loud disputes as to the best rendering, many being offered at the same time. I then read the translation aloud, whereupon they raised a shout of exultation, and appeared not a little proud of the composition.” On this occasion, Mr. Borrow evidently had the Gipsies in the right humour—that is, off their guard, excited, and much interested in the subject. He says, in another place: “The language they speak among themselves, and they are particularly anxious to keep others in ignorance of it.” As a general thing, they seem to have been bored by people much above them in the scale of society; with whom, their natural politeness, and expectations of money or other benefits, would naturally lead them to do anything than give them that which it is inborn in their nature to keep to themselves.—Ed.

[190] This opinion is confirmed by the fact that the Gipsies whom the Rev. Mr. Crabbe has civilized will not now be seen among the others of the tribe, at his annual festival, at Southampton. We have already seen, under the head of Continental Gipsies, that “those who are gold-washers in Transylvania and the Banat have no intercourse with others of their nation; nor do they like to be called Gipsies.”

[191] On the whole, however, our Scottish peasantry, in some districts, do not greatly despise the Tinklers; at least not to the same extent as the inhabitants of some other countries seem to do. When not involved in quarrels with the Gipsies, our country people, with the exception of a considerable portion of the land-owners, were, and are even yet, rather fond of the superior families of the nomadic class of these people, than otherwise.

[192] Their (the female’s) speech is as fluent, and their eyes as unabashed, in the presence of royalty, as before those from whom they have nothing to hope or fear; the result of which is, that most minds quail before them.—Borrow on the Spanish Gipsies.—Ed.

[193] This woman evidently mistook our author for a Gipsy gent, such as he is described at page 169.—Ed.

[194] It would be well for the reader to consider what a Gipsy is, irrespective of the language which he speaks; for the race comes before the speech which it uses. That will be done fully in my Disquisition on the Gipsies. The language, considered in itself, however interesting it may be, is a secondary consideration; it may ultimately disappear, while the people who now speak it will remain.—Ed.

[195] The Gipsies are always afraid to say what they would do in such cases. Perhaps they don’t know, but have only a general impression that the individual would “catch it;” or there may be some old law on the subject. What Ruthven said of her’s being a desperate race is true enough, and murderous too, among themselves as distinguished from the inhabitants generally. Her remark was evidently part of that frightening policy which keeps the natives from molesting the tribe. See page 44.—Ed.

[196] Ponqueville, in his travels, says that the Gipsies in the Levant have no words in their language to express either God or the soul. Of ten words of the Greek Gipsy, given by him, five of them are in use in Scotland.—Paris, 1820.

[The Gipsy for God, according to Grellmann, is Dewe, Dewel, Dewol, Dewla.]—Ed.

[197] Had a German listened a whole day to a Gipsy conversation, he would not have understood a single expression.—Grellmann.

The dialect of the English Gipsies, though mixed with English, is tolerably pure, from the fact of its being intelligible to the race in the centre of Russia.—Borrow.—Ed.

[198] This letter is interesting to the extent that it illustrates the amount of knowledge possessed by the Scottish community, generally, regarding the subject of the Gipsies.—Ed.

[199] Sir Walter Scott was disposed to think that our Gipsy population was rather exaggerated at five thousand souls; but when families such as the above mentioned are taken into account—leaving alone those who may be classed as settled Gipsies—I am convinced that their number is not over-estimated.

[Not being in possession of sufficient information on the subject of the Gipsies, the opinion of Sir Walter Scott, on the point in question, amounted to nothing. See the Index, for Sir Walter Scott’s ideas of the Scottish Gipsy population.—Ed.]

[200] In speaking of the more original kind of Gipsy, Grellmann says: “No Gipsy has ever signalized himself in literature, notwithstanding many of them have partaken of the instruction to be obtained at public schools. Their volatile disposition and unsteadiness will not allow them to complete anything which requires perseverance or application. In the midst of his career of learning, the recollection of his origin seizes him; he desires to return to what he thinks a more happy manner of life; this solicitude encreases; he gives up all at once, turns back again, and consigns over his knowledge to oblivion.”

There are too many circumstances surrounding such a Gipsy to remind him of his origin, and arrest him in his career of learning: for his race never having been tolerated—that is, no position ever having been assigned it, he feels as if he were a vagabond, if known or openly avowed to the public as a member of the tribe. And this, in itself, is sufficient to discourage such a Gipsy in every effort towards improvement.—Ed.

[201] On mentioning to Sir Walter Scott, when at Abbotsford, that the Gipsies were very partial to Hughie the Græme, he caused his eldest daughter, afterwards Mrs. Lockhart, to sing this ancient Border song, which she readily did, accompanying her voice with the harp. We were, at the time, in the room which contained his old armour and other antiquities; to which place he had asked me, after tea, to hear his daughter play on the harp. She sang Hughie the Græme, in a plain, simple, unaffected manner, exactly in the style in which I have heard the humble country-girls singing the same song, in the south of Scotland. Sir Walter was much interested about the Gipsies; and when I repeated to him a short sentence in their speech, he, with great feeling, exclaimed, “Poor things! do you hear that?” This was the first time, I believe, that he ever heard a Scottish Gipsy word pronounced. It appeared to me that the mind of the great magician was not wholly divested of the fear that the Gipsies might, in some way or other, injure his young plantations.

[202] See pages 58 and 65.—Ed.

[203] These sixteen farms embraced about 25,000 acres of mountainous land, maintained 13,000 sheep, 100 goats, 250 cattle, 50 horses, 20 draught-oxen, and 60 dogs; 29 shepherds, 26 other servants, and 15 cotters, making, with their families, 228 souls, supported by my ancestor’s property, as that of a Scotch gentleman-farmer. On the farms mentioned, which lay in Mid-Lothian, Tweed-dale, and Selkirkshire, the Gipsies were allowed to remain as long as they pleased; and no loss was ever sustained by the indulgence.

[204] I am convinced the Gipsies have a method of communicating with one another by their hands and fingers, and it is likely this man tried me, in that way, both at the fair and in his own house. I know a man who has seen the Gipsies communicating their thoughts to each other in this way.

“Bargains among the Indians are conducted in the most profound silence, and by merely touching each other’s hands. If the seller takes the whole hand, it implies a thousand rupees or pagodas; five fingers import five hundred; one finger, one hundred; half a finger, fifty; a single joint only ten. In this manner, they will often, in a crowded room, conclude the most important transactions, without the company suspecting that anything whatever was doing.”—Historical Account of Travels in Asia, by Hugh Murray.

“Method of the English selling their cargoes, at Jedda, to the Turks: Two Indian brokers come into the room to settle the price, one on the part of the Indian captain, the other on that of the buyer or Turk. They are neither Mahommedans nor Christians, but have credit with both. They sit down on the carpet, and take an Indian shawl, which they carry on their shoulders like a napkin, and spread it over their hands. They talk, in the meantime, indifferent conversation, of the arrival of ships from India, or of the news of the day, as if they were employed in no serious business whatever. After about twenty minutes spent in handling each other’s fingers, below the shawl, the bargain is concluded, say for nine ships, without one word ever having been spoken on the subject, or pen or ink used in any shape whatever.”—Bruce’s Travels.

[205] It is interesting to notice the reason for this old Gipsy chief being so backward in giving our author some of his language. “He was ashamed to do it.” Pity it is that there should be a man in Scotland, who, independent of personal character, should be ashamed of such a thing. Then, see how the Gipsy woman, in our author’s house, said that “the public would look upon her with horror and contempt, were it known she could speak the Gipsy language.” And again, the two female Gipsies, who would rather allow themselves to be murdered, than give the meaning of two Gipsy words to Sauchie colliers, for the reason that “it would have exposed their tribe, and made themselves odious to the world.” And all for knowing the Gipsy language!—which would be considered an accomplishment in another person! What frightful tyranny! Mr. Borrow, as we will by and by see, says a great deal about the law of Charles III, in regard to the prospects of the Spanish Gipsies. But there is a law above any legislative enactment—the law of society, of one’s fellow-creatures—which bears so hard upon the Gipsies; the despotism of caste. If Gipsies, in such humble circumstances, are so afraid of being known to be Gipsies, we can form some idea of the morbid sensitiveness of those in a higher sphere of life.

The innkeeper evidently thought himself in bad company, when our author asked him for the Tinkler’s house, or that any intercourse with a Tinkler would contaminate and degrade him. In this light, read an anecdote in the history of John Bunyan, who was one of the same people, as I shall afterwards show. In applying for his release from Bedford jail, his wife said to Justice Hale, “Moreover, my lord, I have four small children that cannot help themselves, of which one is blind, and we have nothing to live upon but the charity of good people.” Thereat, Justice Hale, looking very soberly on the matter, said, “Alas, poor woman!” “What is his calling?” continued the judge. And some of the company, that stood by, said, (evidently in interruption, and with a bitter sneer,) “A Tinker, my lord!” “Yes,” replied Bunyan’s wife, “and because he is a Tinker, and a poor man, therefore he is despised, and cannot have justice.” Noble woman! wife of a noble Gipsy! If the world wishes to know who John Bunyan really was, it can find him depicted in our author’s visit to this Scottish Gipsy family, where it can also learn the meaning of Bunyan, at a time when Jews were legally excluded from England, taking so much trouble to ascertain whether he was of that race, or not. From the present work generally, the world can learn the reason why Bunyan said nothing of his ancestry and nationality, when giving an account of his own history.—Ed.

[206] Sallah, in the Scottish Gipsy speech, properly signifies accursed, or detested. It is one of the most abusive expressions that can be used towards your fellow creatures. Nothing terrifies a young Gipsy so much as to bawl out to him, “Sallah, jaw drom,” which, in plain English, nearly means, “You accursed, take the road.”

It appears that, in Hindostanee, Salla is a word of the highest reproach, and that nothing can provoke a Hindoo so much as the applying of it to him. When cursing and swearing, by what would appear to be the Deity, the Gipsies make use of the word Sallahen.

[207] Nawken has a number of significations, such as Tinkler, Gipsy, a wanderer, a worker in iron, a man who can do anything for himself in the mechanical arts, &c., &c.

[208] The tradition among the Scottish Gipsies of being Ethiopians, whatever weight the reader may attach to it, dates as far back, at least, as the year 1615; for it is mentioned in the remission under the privy seal, granted to William Auchterlony, of Cayrine, for resetting John Faa and his followers. See page 113.—Ed.

[209] The Scottish Gipsies have doubtless an oral literature, like their brethren in other countries. It would be strange indeed if they did not rank as high, in that respect, as many of the barbarous tribes in the world. People so situated, with no written language, are wonderfully apt at picking up, and retaining, any composition that contains poetry and music, to which oral literature is chiefly confined. In that respect, their faculties, like those of the blind, are sharpened by the wants which others do not experience in indulging a feeling common to all mankind.

A striking instance of a people, unacquainted with the art of writing, possessing a literature, is said to have been found in Hawaii; and to such an extent, as to “possess a force and compass that, at the beginning of the study of it, would not have been credited.”—Ed.

[210] A song which a female Gipsy sang to Mr. Borrow, at Moscow, commenced in this way, “Her head is aching with grief, as if she had tasted wine;” and ended thus, “That she may depart in quest of the lord of her bosom, and share his joys and pleasures.”—Ed.

[211] Smith, in his “Hebrew people,” writes: “The Jews had almost lost, in the seventy years’ captivity, their original language; that was now become dead; and they spoke a jargon made up of their own language and that of the Chaldeans, and other nations with whom they had mingled. Formerly, preachers had only explained subjects; now, they were obliged to explain words; words which, in the sacred code, were become obsolete, equivocal, dead.”—Ed.

[212] The Gipsies have been much annoyed, in late times, by people anxious to find out their secrets. The circumstance caused them, at first, much alarm as to what it meant; but when they came to learn the object of this modern Gipsy-hunting, they became, in a measure, reconciled to their troubles; for they were perfectly satisfied that the labours of these inquisitive people would, in the language of Ruthven, “be in vain.” But the attempt of our author, with his “open sesame,” caused not a few of them to travel through life with the weight of a millstone hanging about their necks, which the publication, now, is perhaps calculated to lighten. The “giving to the world everything relative to their tribe,” was something they were more apt to over than under estimate. To be “put in the papers,” judging from the horror with which such is regarded by our own humble people, was bad enough; still, the end of that would, in their peculiar way of thinking, be merely the “lighting of the candles, and curling the hair, of the gentle folk.” But to have themselves put in a book—to see themselves, in their imaginations, “carried about in every bit herd-laddie’s pouch,” was something that aggravated them. The presumptuous pride, the overweening conceit of a high-mettled Scottish Gipsy; his boasted descent—a descent at once high, illustrious, and lost in antiquity; his unbounded contempt for the rabble of town and country—rendered him, under the circumstances, almost incapable of brooking the idea of seeing his race exposed to, what he would consider, the ridicule of the very herds. The very idea of it was to him mortifying and maddening. Well might our author, from having been so much mixed up with the Gipsies, show some hesitancy ere taking a step that would have brought such a nest of hornets about his ears. But, all things considered, my impression is, that the outdoor Gipsies, at the present day, will feel extremely proud of the present work; and that the same may be said of all classes of them, if one subject had been excluded from the volume, over which they will be very apt to growl a little in secret.—Ed.

[213] A lady, who had been seventeen years in India, told me that “Chee, chee” was, in Hindostanee, an expression of reproof, corresponding exactly with our “Fie, shame!” “Oh fie, shame!”

[214] About four years after this occurrence, I was invited to dine at the house of a friend, with whose wife I was not acquainted. On being introduced to her, I was rather surprised at the repeated hard looks which she took at me. At last she said, “I think I have seen you before. Were you never engaged with a band of thimble-men, near Newhaven?” I said I was, some years ago. “Do you recollect,” continued she, “of a female taking you by the arm, and urging you to leave them?” I said, “Perfectly.” “Well, then, I am the female; and I yet recollect your words were Chee, chee.” She mentioned the circumstance to her husband at the time; but he always said to her that I must have been only one of the blackguards themselves, deceiving her. He would not listen to her when she described me as not at all like a thimble-rigger, but always answered her, “I tell ye, woman, the man you spoke to was nothing but one of these villains.”

The thimble-riggers who molested Mr. Rose, ship-builder, so much, also answered my Gipsy words distinctly; and, ever afterwards, took off their hats to me, as I passed them playing at their game.

[The thimble-men here alluded to took up their quarters immediately to the west of Leith Fort, where the road takes a turn, at a right angle, a little in front of Mr. Rose’s house, and there takes a similar turn towards the west: the best position for carrying on the thimble game. So exasperated was this gentleman, when, by every means in his power, he failed to dislodge them, that he sent some of the men from his yard, to erect, on the spot, a pole, which he covered with sheet-iron, to prevent its being cut down; and placed on the top of it a board, having this upon it, “Beware of thimble-riggers and chain-droppers,” with a hand pointing directly below. This had no effect, however, for the “knights of the thimble” pursued their game right under it. A gentleman, in passing one day, directed their attention to the board, but the only reply he got was, “Bah! that’s nothing. Where can you find a shop without a sign? and where’s the other person that gets a sign from the public for nothing?”

Thimble-rigging is peculiarly a Gipsy game. In Great Britain, the Gipsies nearly monopolize it; and it would be singular if some of the American thimblers were not Gipsies.—Ed.]

[215] There is a Gipsy belonging to one of these bands, known by the soubriquet of the “winged duck,” from having lost an arm, of whom I have often heard our author speak. He is what may be called the captain of the company. A description of him, and his way of life, may be interesting, inasmuch as it illustrates a class of Scottish Gipsies at the present day.

About the year 1853, three young gentlemen, from the town of Leith, had occasion to take a stroll over Arthur’s Seat, a hill that overhangs Edinburgh, on the east side of the city. In climbing the hill, they observed, a little way before them, a man toiling up the ascent, whom they did not notice till they came close upon him, and who had evidently been laying off on the side of the path, and entered it as they approached it. He appears about sixty years of age, is well dressed, and carries a fine cane, which he keeps pressing into the ground, to help him up the hill. Just as they make up to him, he abruptly stops, and turns round, so as almost to touch them. “Hech, how! I’m blown, I’m blown; I’m fairly done up. Young gentlemen, you have the advantage of me; I’m getting old, and it is hard for me to climb the hill.” (Blown, done up, indeed! The fellow has stamina enough to outclimb any of them for years yet.) An agreeable conversation ensues, such as at once gains for him the confidence of the youths. He appears to them so mild, so bland, so fatherly, so worthy of respect, in short, a “nice old cove,” who is evidently enjoying his otium cum dignitate in his old age, in some cottage near by, upon a pension, an annuity, or a moderate competency of some sort. During the conversation, he manages to ascertain that his young friends have not been on the hill for some time—that one of them, indeed, has never been there before. All at once he exclaims, “Ah! what can this be? Let us go and see.” Upon which they step forward to look at a person like a mechanic playing at the thimbles. Placing his arm around the neck of one of the young men, he begins to moralize: “Pray, young gentlemen, don’t bet, (they had not shown the least symptoms of doing that;) it’s wrong to bet; it’s a thing I never do; I would advise you not to do it. This is a rascally thimbler; he’ll cheat, he’ll rob you.” At this time there are three playing at the board, winning and losing money rapidly. The “old cove” becomes impatient to be gone, and motions so as to imply, “Boys, let us go, let us go.” Moving a few steps forward, he halts to admire the scenery, (but casts a leering eye in the direction of the board.) “Ah! there’s another goose gone to be plucked; let us see what luck he meets with.”

Now thimble rigging is the game, of all others, by which the uninitiated can be duped. They see the pea put under one of the thimbles, (nutshells they are, indeed;) there seems to be no doubt of that. The thimbles are then so gently moved, that any one can follow them. The pea is not afterwards tampered with—that is evident. All, then, that remains to be done, is to lift the thimble under which the pea is, and secure your prize. But the thimble man, with his long nail, and nimble finger, has secured the pea under his nail, or, with the crook of his little finger, thrust it into the palm of his hand, while he pretended to cover it with the thimble. An accomplice, to make doubly sure of the pea being under the thimble, lifts it, and shows a pea, which he, by sleight of hand, drops, and, while pretending to cover it, as nimbly takes it up again.

Betting and playing go on as before. The player makes some fine hauls, but loses a game. He swears that foul play has been used. An altercation follows. The man at the board gets excited, and to show that he really is honourable in his playing, exclaims, “Well, sir, there’s your money again; try another game if you have a mind.” “Now that is really honest, and no mistake about it,” remarks the “old cove.” Then the thimbler averts his head, to speak to a person behind him, and the “old cove” slyly lifts a thimble and shows the pea, and whispers very confidentially to his friends, “Now, young gentlemen, you can safely bet a few shillings on that.” They shake their heads, however, for they know too much about thimbling. The “old cove” now gets fidgety, and, managing to edge a little away from the board, commences, in a subdued tone, to speak, in a strange gibberish, to another bystander; but, forgetting himself, drops a word rather louder than the others, on which, as he turns round and catches the eyes of his young friends, he coughs and hems. On hearing the gibberish, a fear steals over the young men, on finding themselves surrounded by a band of desperadoes, in so solitary a place, and they make haste to be off. But the “old cove,” to quiet their suspicions, accompanies them to a convenient spot, where he leaves them, to go to his home, by a side-path that soon leads him out of sight. On separating, he looks around him at the scenery, now lets fall his stick, now picks up something, that he may, with less suspicion, watch the movements of his escaped victims. They feel a singular relief in getting rid of his company, and, with tact, dog him over the hill, till they see him go back to the thimblers. They then think over their adventure, and the strange jargon they have heard, and unanimously exclaim, “Wasn’t he a slippery old serpent, after all!”

On this occasion, there were no less than fourteen of these fellows present, some of them stationed here, some there, while they kept artfully moving around and about the hill, so as not to appear connected, but frequently approached the board, to contribute to and watch their luck. They personated various characters. One of them played the country lout, whose dress, gait, gape, and stare were inimitable. On the slightest symptom of danger manifesting itself, they would, by the movement of a hat, scatter, and vanish in an instant.

Among the people generally, a mystery attaches to these and other thimble-men. No one seems to know any thing about them—who they are or where they come from—and yet they are seen flitting everywhere through the country; but hardly ever two days together in one dress. But the mystery is solved by their being Gipsies. They are dangerous fellows to meddle with; yet they seem to prefer thimbling, chain-dropping, card-playing, pocket-picking, in fairs and thoroughfares, and pigeon-plucking in every form, to robbery on the high-way, after the manner of their ancestors.

Thimble-rigging, according to Sir J. Gardner Wilkinson, was practised in ancient Egypt. He calls it “thimble-rig, or the game of cups, under which a ball was put, while the opposite party guessed under which of four it was concealed.”—Ed.

[216] “The opinion, that the Gipsies came originally from India, seems to have been very early entertained, although it was again soon forgotten, or silently relinquished. Hieronymus Foroliviensis, in the nineteenth volume of Muratori, says, that on the 7th day of August, A. D. 1422, 200 of the Cingari came to his native town, and remained there two days, on their way to Rome, and that some of them said that they came from India, ‘et ut audivi aliqui dicebant quod erant de Indiâ;’ and the account which Munster gives of what he gathered from one of the Cingari, in 1524, seems to prove that an impression existed amongst them of their having come from that country.”—Bright.—Ed.

[217] Mr. Baird’s Missionary Report contained a collation of the Scottish Gipsy with Hindostanee, but that appeared considerably after what our author has said was written.—Ed.

[218] Meeting a Bengalee at Peebles, begging money to pay his passage back to India, I repeated to him, from memory, a few of the Gipsy words I had collected a week before. After listening attentively, he answered that it was the Moor’s language I had got, and gave me the English of paunie, water, and davies, day. I took the first opportunity of mentioning this interview to the Gipsies, observing it was the general opinion that their forefathers came from India. They, however, persisted in their own tradition, that they were a tribe of Ethiopians, which is believed by all the Scottish Gipsies. [See pages 113 and 315.—Ed.]

[219] A lady who resided seventeen years in India, already alluded to, mentioned to me that the pronunciation of the Hindoos is broad, like that of the Scotch, particularly where the letter a occurs; and that the Scotch learn Hindostanee sooner, and more correctly, than the natives of other countries. For this reason, I am inclined to think that the Scottish Gipsy will have a greater resemblance to Hindostanee than the Gipsy of some other countries.

[220] In the report of the Fourteenth Gipsies’ Festival, held at Southampton, under the superintendence of the Rev. James Crabb, the Gipsies’ friend, on the 25th December, 1841, is the following statement:

“The above gentleman, (the Rev. J. West, one of the speakers at the festival,) with the Rev. Mr. Crabb, and two elderly Gipsies, who speak the Gipsy language, called, the following morning, on a lady who had long resided in India, and speaks the Hindostanee language; and it was clear that many of the Rommany (Gipsy) words were pure Hindostanee, and other words strongly resembled that language.”—Hampshire Advertiser, 1st January, 1842.

This statement, made some years subsequent to the period at which I took down the words from Lobbs and the Gipsies in Scotland, is nearly in my own words, and proves that my opinion, as to the close affinity between Hindostanee and the Scottish Gipsy language, is correct.

[221] The four last of these numerals, in the Scottish Gipsy language, differ very considerably from the corresponding ones in the Table. I leave the matter to be settled by philologists.

[222] It is remarkable, considering how much the habits and occupations of the Gipsies bring them in contact with beggars, thieves, and other bad and disorderly characters, how few of the slang words used by such persons have been adopted by them.—Rev. Mr. Baird’s Missionary Report to the Scottish Church, 1840.—Ed.

[223] Of the Highland Gipsies, I had the following account from a person of observation, and highly worthy of credit: There are many settled in Kintyre, who travel through the Highlands and Lowlands annually. They certainly speak, among themselves, a language totally distinct from either Gaelic or Lowland Scotch.—Blackwood’s Magazine.—Ed.

[224] “There is reason for supposing that the Gipsies had been wandering in the remote regions of Sclavonia, for a considerable time previous to entering Bohemia—the first civilized country of Europe in which they made their appearance; as their language abounds with words of Sclavonic origin, which could not have been adopted in a hasty passage through a wild and half populated country.”—Borrow.

That the Gipsies were, in some way, drawn together, at a very remote age, and became amalgamated, so as to form a race, can hardly admit of a doubt. But it is an opinion that has no reasonable foundation which supposes that they suddenly took their departure from India, and travelled together, till they entered and spread over Europe. They may, as I have conjectured in the Introduction, have separated into bands, and passed into countries in Asia, as they have done in Europe; and existed in Asia, and Africa, long before they appeared in Europe. For this reason, their language ought to vary in different countries; and it would be enough to identify them as the same race, were the substance of their language and their customs, or even their cast of mind, the same. In speaking of the Hungarian Gipsies, Grellmann says, that their speech contains words from the Turkish, Sclavonian, Greek, Latin, Wallachian, Hungarian, and German; but that it would not be absurd to pronounce that there remain more, or at least different, Gipsy words among those residing in one country than another.—Ed.