The English Gipsies and Their Language Part 6

I would say, in conclusion, that the Rev. James Crabb, whose unaffected and earnest little book tells its own story, did much good in his own time and way among the poor Gipsies; and the fact that he is mentioned to the present day, by them, with respect and love, proves that missionaries are not useless, nor Gipsies ungrateful--though it is almost the fas.h.i.+on with too many people to a.s.sume both positions as rules without exceptions.

CHAPTER V. GIPSY LETTERS.

A Gipsy's Letter to his Sister.--Drabbing Horses.--Fortune Telling.--c.o.c.k Shys.--"Hatch 'em pauli, or he'll lel sar the Covvas!"--Two German Gipsy Letters.

I shall give in this chapter a few curious ill.u.s.trations of Gipsy life and character, as shown in a letter, which is ill.u.s.trated by two specimens in the German Rommany dialect.

With regard to the first letter, I might prefix to it, as a motto, old John Willett's remark: "What's a man without an imagination?" Certainly it would not apply to the Gipsy, who has an imagination so lively as to be at times almost ungovernable; considering which I was much surprised that, so far as I know, the whole race has as yet produced only one writer who has distinguished himself in the department of fiction--albeit he who did so was a giant therein--I mean John Bunyan.

And here I may well be allowed an unintended digression, as to whether Bunyan were really a Gipsy. In a previous chapter of this work, I, with little thought of Bunyan, narrated the fact that an intelligent tinker, and a full Gipsy, asked me last summer in London, if I thought that the Rommany were of the Ten Tribes of Israel? When John Bunyan tells us explicitly that he once asked his father whether he and his relatives were of the race of the Israelites--he having then never seen a Jew--and when he carefully informs his readers that his descent was of a low and inconsiderable generation, "my father's house being of that rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families of the land," there remains no rational doubt whatever that Bunyan was indeed a Rom of the Rommany.

"_Applico_" of which, as my own special and particular Gipsy is wont to say--it is worth noting that the magician Shakespeare, who knew everything, showed himself superior to many modern dramatists in being aware that the tinkers of England had, not a peculiar cant, but a special _language_.

And now for the letters. One day Ward'engro of the K'allis's Gav, asked me to write him a letter to his daughter, in Rommany. So I began to write from his dictation. But being, like all his race, unused to literary labour, his lively imagination continually led him astray, and as I found amus.e.m.e.nt in his so doing, it proved to be an easy matter to induce him to wander off into scenes of gipsy life, which, however edifying they might be to my reader, would certainly not have the charm of novelty to the black-eyed lady to whom they were supposed to be addressed. However, as I read over from time to time to my Rommany chal what I had written, his delight in actually hearing his own words read from writing, partook of all the pride of successful authors.h.i.+p--it was, my dear sir, like your delight over your first proof sheet.

Well, this was the letter. A translation will be found following it.

THE PANNI GAV, _Dec_. 16, 1871.

MY KAMLI CHAVI,--Kushti bak! My cammoben to turo mush an' turo dadas an'

bes...o...b..k. We've had wafri bak, my pen's been naflo this here cooricus, we're doin' very wafro and couldn't lel no wongur. Your dui pals are kairin kushto, prasturin 'bout the tem, bickinin covvas. {65} Your puro kako welled acai to his pen, and hatched trin divvus, and jawed avree like a puro jucko, and never del mandy a poshero.

Kek adusta nevvi. A rakli acai lelled a hora waver divvus from a waver rakli, and the one who nashered it pens: "Del it pauli a mandi and I wont dukker tute! Del it apre!" But the waver rakli penned "kek," and so they b.i.t.c.hered for the prastramengro. He lelled the juva to the wardo, and just before she welled odoi, she hatched her wast in her poachy, an'

chiv it avree, and the prastramengro hatched it apre. So they b.i.t.c.hered her for shurabun.

(Here my Gipsy suggested that _stardo_ or _staramangro_ might be used for greater elegance, in place of shurabun.)

I've got kek gry and can't lel no wongur to kin kek. My kamli chavi, if you could b.i.t.c.h me a few bars it would be cammoben. I rikkers my covvas apre mi dumo kenna. I d.i.c.ked my kako, waver divvus adree a lot o Rommany chals, saw a piin'. There was the juvas a koorin adoi and the mus.h.i.+s a koorin an' there was a boro chingaree, some with kali yakkas an' some with sherros chinned so the ratt jalled alay 'pre the drum. There was dui or trin bar to pessur in the sala for the graias an' mylas that got in pandamam (_pandapenn_).

Your pal's got a kushti gry that can jal alangus the drum kushto. L--- too's got a baro kushto gry. He jawed to the wellgooro, to the boro gav, with a poggobavescro gry an' a nokengro. You could a mored dovo gry an'

kek penn'd a lav tute. I del it some ballovas to hatch his bavol and I bikened it for 9 bar, to a rye that you jins kushto. Lotti was at the wellgooro dukkerin the ranis. She lelled some kushti habben, an' her jellico was saw porder, when she d.i.c.ked her mush and sh.e.l.led. "Havacai!

I've got some fine habben!" She penned to a rakli, "Pet your wonger adree turo wast an I'll dukker tute." An' she lelled a pash bar from the rani. She penned her: "You kaums a rye a longo duros. He's a kaulo and there's a waver rye, a pauno, that kaums you too, an' you'll soon lel a chinamangree. Tute'll rummorben before dui besh, an' be the dye of trin chavis.'

There was a gry jallin with a wardo langus the drum, an' I d.i.c.ked a raklo, an' putsched (_pootched_) him. "How much wongur?" an' he pookered man'y "Desh bar;" I penned: "Is dovo, noko gry?" "Avali." Well, a Rommany chul del him desh bar for the gry an' bikined it for twelve bar to a boro rye. It was a fino kaulo gry with a boro herree, but had a naflo piro; it was the _nearo_ piro an' was a dellemescro. He del it some hopium drab to hatch adoi, and tooled his solivengro upo the purgis.

At the paia.s.s with the koshters a rye welled and Wantelo sh.e.l.led avree: "Trin kosters for a horra, eighteen for a shekori!" An' the rye lelled a koshter an' we had pange collos for trin dozenos. The rye kaired paia.s.s kushto and lelled pange cocoanuts, and lelled us to his wardo, and dell'd mandy trin currus of tatty panni, so that I was most matto. He was a kushti rye and his rani was as good as the rye.

There was a waver mush a playin, an' mandy penned: "Pen the kosh paulier, hatch 'em odoi, don't well adoorer or he'll lel saw the covvos! Chiv 'em pauli!" A chi rakkered the ryes an' got fifteen cullos from yeck. And no moro the divvus from your kaum pal,

M.

TRANSLATION.

THE WATER VILLAGE, _Dec_. 16, 1871.

MY DEAR DAUGHTER,--Good luck! my love to your husband and your father, and best luck! We've had bad fortune, my sister has been sick this here week, we're doing very badly and could not get any money. Your two brothers are doing well, running about the country selling things. Your old uncle came to his sister and stayed three days, and went away like an old dog and never gave me a penny.

Nothing much new. A girl here took a watch the other day from another girl, and the one who lost it said: "Give it back to me and I won't hurt you." But the other girl said "No," and so they sent for the constable.

He took the girl to the station (or carriage), and just before she got there she put her hand in her pocket and threw it away, and the policeman picked it up. So they sent her to prison.

I have no horse, and can't get any money to buy _none_. My dear daughter, if you could send me a few pounds it would be agreeable. I carry my _traps_ on my back now. I saw my uncle the other day among a lot of Gipsies, all drinking. There were the women fighting there, and the men fighting, and there was a great _s.h.i.+ndy_, some with black eyes, and some with heads cut so that the blood ran down on the road. There were two or three pounds to pay in the morning for the horses and a.s.ses that were in the pound.

Your brother has got a capital horse that can go along the road nicely.

L---, too, has a large fine horse. He went to the fair in --- with a broken-winded horse and a glandered. You could have killed that horse and n.o.body said a word to you. I gave it some lard to stop his breathing, and I sold it for nine pound to a gentleman whom you know well.

Lotty was at the fair telling fortunes to the ladies. She got some excellent food, and her ap.r.o.n was quite full, when she saw her husband and cried out: "Come here! I've got some nice victuals!" She said to a girl: "Put you money in your hand and I'll tell you your fortune." And she took half a sovereign from the lady. She told her: "You love a gentleman who is far away. He is dark, and there is another gentleman, a fair-haired man that loves you, and you'll soon get a letter. You'll marry before two years, and be the mother of three children."

There was a horse going with a waggon along the road; and I saw a youth, and asked him, "How much money?" (for the horse), and he replied to me, "Ten pounds." I said, "Is that your horse?" "Yes." Well, a Gipsy gave him ten pounds for the horse, and sold it for twelve pounds to a great gentleman. It was a good black horse, with a (handsome) strong leg (literally large), but it had a bad foot; it was the _near_ foot, and it was a kicker. He gave it some opium medicament to keep quiet (literally to stop there), and held his rein (_i.e_., trotted him so as to show his pace, and conceal his faults) on the road.

At the c.o.c.k-shy a gentleman came, and Wantelo halloed out, "Three sticks for a penny, eighteen for a sixpence!" And the gentleman took a stick, and we had five s.h.i.+llings for three dozen throws! The gentleman played well, and got five cocoanuts, and took us to his carriage and gave me three gla.s.ses of brandy, so that I was almost drunk. He was a good gentleman, and his lady was as good as her husband.

There was another man playing; and I said, "Set the sticks more back, set 'em there; don't go further or he'll get all the things! Set 'em back!"

A Gipsy girl talked to the gentlemen (_i.e_., persuaded them to play), and got fifteen s.h.i.+llings from one. And no more to-day from your dear brother,

M.

One thing in the foregoing letter is worth noting. Every remark or incident occurring in it is literally true--drawn from life--_pur et simple_. It is, indeed, almost the _resume_ of the entire life of many poor Gipsies during the summer. And I may add that the language in which it is written, though not the "deep" or grammatical Gipsy, in which no English words occur--as for instance in the Lord's Prayer, as given by Mr Borrow in his appendix to the Gipsies in Spain {70}--is still really a fair specimen of the Rommany of the present day, which is spoken at races by c.o.c.k-shysters and fortune-tellers.

The "Water Village," from which it is dated, is the generic term among Gipsies for all towns by the sea-side. The phrase _kushto_ (or _kushti_), _bak_!--"good luck!" is after "_Sarishan_!" or "how are you?"

the common greeting among Gipsies. The fight is from life and to the life; and the "two or three pounds to pay in the morning for the horses and a.s.ses that got impounded," indicates its magnitude. To have a beast in pound in consequence of a frolic, is a common disaster in Gipsy life.

During the dictation of the foregoing letter, my Gipsy paused at the word "broken-winded horse," when I asked him how he could stop the heavy breathing?

"With ballovas (or lard and starch)--long enough to sell it."

"But how would you sell a glandered horse?"

Here he described, with great ingenuity, the manner in which he would _tool_ or manage the horse--an art in which Gipsies excel all the world over--and which, as Mr Borrow tells us, they call in Spain "_de pacuaro_," which is pure Persian.

"But that would not stop the running. How would you prevent that?"

"I don't know."

"Then I am a better graiengro than you, for I know a powder, and with a penny's worth of it I could stop the glanders in the worst case, long enough to sell the horse. I once knew an old horse-dealer who paid sixty pounds for a _nokengro_ (a glandered horse) which had been powdered in this way."

The Gipsy listened to me in great admiration. About a week afterwards I heard he had spoken of me as follows:--

"Don't talk about knowing. My rye knows more than anybody. He can cheat any man in England selling him a glandered horse."

Had this letter been strictly confined to the limits originally intended, it would have spoken only of the sufferings of the family, the want of money, and possibly, the acquisition of a new horse by the brother. In this case it bears a decided family-likeness to the following letter in the German-Gipsy dialect, which originally appeared in a book ent.i.tled, _Beytrag zur Rottwellischen Grammatik_, _oder Worterbuch von der Zigeuner Spracke_, Leipzig 1755, and which was republished by Dr A. F. Pott in his stupendous work, _Die Zigeuner in Europa und Asien_. Halle, 1844.