In an entertaining volume entitled, Caravanning and Camping Out, Mr. J. Harris Stone describes a wayside Gypsy burial—
“Some twenty years ago a Gypsy died in an encampment near Lulworth Cove in Dorset, and a friend of mine, who had become great friends with the tribe because he used to go and sing comic songs to them and perform simple conjuring tricks, was asked to the funeral. He told me that the coffin was black, and the burial took place at the cross-roads—not exactly in the centre of the roadway where the highways crossed, but on the patch of roadside waste at the angle of one of the roads. Water was sprinkled on the coffin and earth thrown on, in the course of the ritual in Romany, but no parson was present.”
Near the grass-grown sand-dunes of an East Lincolnshire parish is a camping-place frequented by Gypsies for many years past. In turning up the soil thereabouts not long ago, some labourers came upon a human skeleton, probably that of a Gypsy who had been buried there.
I give these instances because it has been strongly asserted that Christian burial only has been the Gypsies’ usage for the last two hundred years.
Sometimes a careful watch is kept over the body between death and burial. A Welsh correspondent who had an opportunity of observing this practice, writes: “I found my Romany friends seated around a fire, and close by in a van lay the dead wife of one of the company, awaiting burial on the morrow. Gypsies about here do not go to bed from the time of a death till after the funeral. They sit in company around the fire, and now and again fall back and doze, but at least three must keep awake. If only two were awake, one might drop off to sleep and that would leave only one. Fear of the ghost is given as the reason why they sit in company by the fire.”
As a rule, the corpse is attired in the best clothes worn during life. Sometimes the garments are turned inside out, a practice in Bulgarian mourning. When Zachariah Smith was buried in Yorkshire four years ago the following articles were enclosed in his coffin: a suit of clothes, besides the one he was wearing, watch and chain, a muffler, four pocket handkerchiefs, a hammer, a candle, and twopence.
On the day after the funeral, old-fashioned Gypsies destroy the possessions of the dead, money excepted. All consumable belongings are burnt, while the crockery, iron utensils, and other articles are broken and dropped into a river, or buried, if no water is near. Jewellery is often disposed of in a similar manner. The horse of the deceased is either shot, or sold to the knackers to be destroyed. Fear of the ghost is the explanation of these ceremonies. So long as the possessions of the dead person remain intact, the ghost is believed to hover about them. In order, therefore, to dispel the ghost of the dead, his belongings are destroyed.
Another observance, expressing in a striking manner the grief of the bereaved, is seen in their abstention for many years, or for ever, from the favourite food, beverage, or pastime of the loved one whom they have lost. One day Richard Petulengro called at my door and was offered refreshment in the kitchen—“Not any ale, thank you. My brother died a bit ago, and he was wery fond of it. I don’t touch it now.”
It is recorded of Old Isaac Joule that he would often spend whole nights watching by his Gypsy wife’s tomb in Yatton churchyard. Her headstone, which may still be seen, bears the lines—
“Here lies Merily Joule
A beauty bright:
That left Isaac Joule
Her heart’s delight
1827.”