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.