Borne on the crisp October air, the chimes of Peterborough floated over the city roofs, reaching even to the fair-grounds, where I was one of the large holiday crowd which hustled and laughed and tossed confetti in mimic snow-showers. When in quest of Gypsies, the first half-hour you spend in wandering about a fair is a time of pleasurable excitement. Who can tell how many old friends you may meet, or what fresh dark faces you are about to encounter?
As I was saying, the crowd was hilarious, and, having so far recognized no Romany countenance up and down the footways between the coco-nut shies and shooting-galleries, swing-boats and merry-go-rounds, it occurred to me that a little more breathing-space might be found upon the open pasture where horses were being bought and sold, and, pushing along in that direction, I was brought to a standstill at the foot of the steps leading down from a gilded show-front. Walking with the airs of a fine lady, there came down those steps a young Gypsy attired in a yellow gown and tartan blouse, with a blazing red scarf thrown over her shoulders upon which her hair fell in black curls. It was this coloured vision as much as the block in the footway that held me up for the nonce. Another moment, and Lena Gray, Old Eliza’s daughter, brushed against my shoulder, yet, as often happens in a crowd, she failed to see me. Therefore, into her ear I dropped a whispered Romany phrase at which she started, and, recognizing me, exclaimed—
“Dawdi, raia, this is a surprise!”
It was but a few steps to the sheltered spot in a field opposite the horse-fair where her brother Yoben sat fiddling by the side of the living-van. Even before we came up to him, something arrested my attention—the unusual shape of his violin, which, as Lena informed me, her brother had made out of a cigar-box picked up in a public-house.
Our field corner had a most agreeable outlook. Beyond a stretch of greenest turf, dotted with caravans and bounded by the reddening autumn hedgerows, lay the pleasure-fair, a sunlit fantasia of colour, from which, like feathery plumes, ascended puffs of white steam topping numerous whirling roundabouts. Pleasant it was to sit out here in the calm weather chatting with the Grays, whom I had so recently met on the Lincolnshire sea-border, and even while we conversed there passed by a little party of gaily-dressed Gypsies—two rather portly women of middle age and two slender girls.
“Who are those people?” I asked.
“Some of the gozverê (cunning) Lovells,” replied Lena. Then I remembered that for some time past I had carried in my notebook several cuttings grown dingy with age, relating to traditional practices characteristic of this family. Two paragraphs will suffice as specimens.
“A domestic servant told a remarkable story yesterday before a West London magistrate. She said that a gipsy called at the house and asked her to buy some laces. She refused, and prisoner then offered to tell her fortune for a shilling. Witness agreed, and the woman told her fortune, and she (witness) gave her two shillings, and asked her for the change. Prisoner said she would tell her young man’s name by the planet. Witness had a half-sovereign and two half-crowns in her purse, and prisoner asked her to let her have the coins to cross the palm of her hand with. She handed her the coins, and the woman crossed her palm. She then asked her to fetch a glass of water, and, on her returning with it, told her to drink it. Afterwards she told her to pray, and then, apparently putting the 10s. and the two half-crowns in her pocket-handkerchief, placed the handkerchief in her bodice, and told her not to take it out for twenty minutes. After that the woman left.
“The magistrate: ‘Did you take the handkerchief out?’
“‘Well, I waited for twenty minutes or so, and then I took it out, and instead of the 10s. and the two half-crowns I found two pennies and a farthing.’ (Laughter.)”
Obviously, the above is a variant of the ancient Gypsy trick known as the hokano bawro (big swindle). Something equally Gypsy, as we shall see, clings to our second example.
“The local police have had their attention engaged during the week in connection with an alleged extraordinary occurrence whereby a shopgirl became, under supposed hypnotic influence, the dupe of two gipsy women. From inquiry it appears that on Saturday afternoon two gipsy women, having the appearance of mother and daughter, entered a baby-linen shop, and seem to have exerted such a remarkable influence over the girl that she was induced to hand over to them articles of wear amounting in value to between £8 and £9. Before they left the shop she recovered her self-possession sufficiently to express doubt as to whether they would return with the goods or money, and her fears were allayed somewhat by receiving from her visitors in the shape of security a lady’s beautiful gold ring and chain. Subsequently the young lady, suspecting the genuineness of the pledges, took them to a jeweller, who declared the value of the ring and chain to be not more than a couple of shillings. The shopgirl is unable to account for her want of self-possession in the presence of the gipsies, and states that she felt she might have given them anything they asked for. There were a good many gipsies located in the district, but on a visit to the encampment in company with the police the girl did not recognize her two visitors. The remarkable occurrence has given rise to much comment in the locality.”