In towns and cities some of the gypsy women have a large and varied clientèle: they are admitted to the best houses, and the proudest señoras deign to inspect the ancient lace, the bric-à-brac and jewellery that they bring for sale. Of antique lace, elaborately wrought, and of painted fans and such-like relics, the supply in Spain seems inexhaustible: and eventually the glib tongue of the gitana may probably obtain about half the price originally asked.
Despite certain changes—hereafter described—the Spanish gypsy remains exotic to Hispania, distinct in type both of form and feature; the restless, suspicious eye of the hunted animal, the lithe build, and straight supple limbs, even among the svelte and graceful Andalucians, still distinguish these swarthy sons of the wilderness.[57] The true-bred gypsy remains a distinct species. Though amenable to the same laws, and recognized as a Spanish subject, he is distinguishable at a glance. The youths undergo their allotted period of army service, but remain not an hour beyond the stipulated time with the colours.
Their normal occupations to-day are chiefly those of butchers—all the shambles of Spain are in their hands—tinkers, horse-breakers, mule and donkey-dealers, and basket-makers. But, at a pinch, the gitano now condescends to engage on the lighter work of the land—hoeing, weeding, &c. Like the Jew, the gypsy has ever hitherto been conspicuous by his absence from every field of manual labour: both prefer the lighter barters of life; and that the gitano should now—even casually—take to such honest work, is perhaps a sign of the times.
One great change has, however, been wrought by the century of equal laws—a change perhaps of vital import to the villain crew. The once sacred errate is contaminated. Marriages between the two races—with or without the sanction of the church—are now frequent, though the Spaniard who contracts such ill-savoured union loses caste among his or her own people, and the children of these mixed marriages never lose the taint.
By this means there has sprung into existence, during late years, an intermediate class, neither pure Gitano nor Spanish, which is daily increasing, and, being free from all the traditionary observances of the gypsy, mingles more and more with the national life, carrying with it much of the ready wit and piquancy of the latter.
The result of this grafting of an element of gitanismo upon the original Castilian stock is the Flamenco of to-day, and it is a curious satire on Spanish society that the style and attire, even the language, of this wanton half-caste breed have become a fashionable craze—have been by some paradoxical freak adopted by a section of even the higher Madrilenian circles who revel in copying the garb, the manners, and the jargon of the once loathed gypsy. Flamencos are found in every grade—well known among the gilded youth of Madrid or Seville—but the bull-ring appears to provide the most approved models for this school. Nor is the mania confined to the men: the bright gala-dress of the gitana has become fashionable among high-placed señoras who appear at dance or salon sporting the gaudy Manila shawl with its flowing fringe, short frock, and with hair coiffeured á la Flamenca. To prefer the raciest and most highly-flavoured Spanish dishes, to quaff freely the Manzanilla, to smoke cigarettes, to prefer olives to bonbons, to know the bull-fighters by their pet names, to be loud if not witty, smart in repartee and slang—this is to be Flamenca.
Both sexes of the Flamencos proper retain the dress and manner of the original gypsy. The brazen beauty of the young Flamencas has the same seductive charms for the Busné; and it is from the half-caste that the dancing girls of the cities and light-fingered gentry of many accomplishments are mostly recruited.
A considerable admixture of gypsy-blood is found among the lower strata of the bull-fighting profession, though its higher ranks are comparatively free from it. His intensely superstitious nature unfits the true-bred gypsy from real success in this or any pursuit where nerve and decision are required. The only gitano espadas of note are Chicorro and El Gallo. The former has latterly lost nerve and prestige through a curious practical joke played upon his superstitious nature by a ventriloquial member of his cuadrilla. As he stood, sword and muleta in hand, facing a black bull of the Duke of Veragua's breed in the Plaza of Madrid, suddenly the beast addressed him in low sepulchral tones, "Te voy á coger!"—I am going to catch you! Such was the effect on Chicorro's nerves that his life was only saved by his attendant chulos, who drew off the brute's attack, nor has Chicorro ever since dared to face a black bull.
