PREFACE.
My idea in writing this little pamphlet is to enlighten the minds of people as to the mode of living, and the customs of our tribe; and I think the reader will be convinced that we are not the desperadoes that some people think, but, on the other hand, honest living and a christian race; always ready to do good. To young men especially, if they follow my career they will find that my success in life is due to being straight-forward and honest in all my dealings; firm purpose of mind; and an object to gain; the result is success, and I hope it may prove a benefit to the rising generation.
Shortly, I shall produce a full Biography of my life.
Yours faithfully,
GEORGE SMITH.
THE LIFE OF A GIPSY.
Many writers have spent months and years of their lives in studying the language, character, and customs of the Romany Rye. Many able pens have written volumes on the subject.
For my part I simply give an unvarnished statement of facts, as they occur to me, so that my readers may glean some little information as to the general life and incidents in the career of a gipsy.
With regard to the language of the Romany, whether heard in the most distant parts of the globe or in the Liverpool Exhibition (as spoken by my family), it is the same as in different counties in the United Kingdom and in different provinces of continental countries; a slight patois may be observable, but in the main the initiated know that the Romany holds its own with the nomadic people the world over.
For character, climate, and circumstances, may in many instances vary the Gitano, Romany, or Bohemian, as we are called, but custom (go where the traveller may) remains the same, the nature and habit of the true Romany prompting him, or her, to a wandering life, and to revel as it were in nature’s solitude. To begin with, I was born on the 3rd of May, 1830, my birth place being on the common called Mousehold Heath, Norwich, Norfolk, my parents having but a few months previously left their old camping ground in Epping Forest, near London.
For many, many years, my ancestors recognised the Forest of Epping as their head quarters, and to this day at intervals we visit the spot, a sort of pilgrimage to Mecca as it were; but alas, how different a form it presents to that which it did in my boyhood’s days.