"The priest, with a long pole or staff in his hand, [Footnote 176] walks round and round the animal several times; repeating the names of all the persons in whose possession it has been, and extolling and expatiating on the rare qualities of so useful an animal. It is now let loose, and driven from their presence to do whatever it pleases. The horse, perfect and free, is put into the room of the woman who is to be divorced; and by its different movements is the degree of her guilt ascertained. Some of the gipsies now set off in pursuit of it, and endeavor to catch it. If it is wild and intractable, kicks, leaps dykes and ditches, scampers about and will not allow itself to be easily taken hold of, the crimes and guilt of the woman are looked upon as numerous and heinous. If the horse is tame and docile, when it is pursued, and suffers itself to be taken without much trouble, and without exhibiting many capers, the guilt of the woman is not considered so deep and aggravated; and it is then sacrificed in her stead. But if it is extremely wild and vicious, and cannot be taken without infinite trouble, her crimes are considered exceedingly wicked and atrocious; and my informant said instances occurred in which both horse and woman were sacrificed at the same time; the death of the horse, alone, being then considered insufficient to atone for her excessive guilt. The individuals who catch the course bring it before the priest. They repeat to him all the faults and tricks it had committed; laying the whole of the crimes of which the woman is supposed to have been guilty to its charge; and upbraiding and scolding the dumb creature, in an angry manner, for its conduct. They bring, as it were, an accusation against it, and plead for its condemnation. When this part of the trial is finished, the priest takes a large knife and thrusts it into the heart of the horse; and its blood is allowed to flow upon the ground till life is extinct. The dead animal is now stretched out upon the ground. The husband then takes his stand on one side of it, and the wife on the other; and, holding each other by the hand, repeat certain appropriate sentences in the gipsy language. They then quit hold of each other, and walk three times round the body of the horse, contrariwise, passing and crossing each other, at certain points, as they proceed in opposite directions. At certain parts of the animal, [{710}] (the corners of the horse, was the gipsy's expression,) such as the hind and fore feet, the shoulders and haunches, the head and tail, the parties halt, and face each other; and again repeat sentences, in their own speech, at each time they halt. The two last stops they make, in their circuit round the sacrifice, are at the head and tail. At the head, they again face each other, and speak; and lastly, at the tail, they again confront each other, utter some more gipsy expressions, shake hands, and finally part, the one going north, the other south, never again to be united in this life. [Footnote 177] Immediately after the separation takes place, the woman receives a token, which is made of cast-iron, about an inch and a half square, with a mark upon it resembling the Roman character, T. After the marriage has been dissolved, and the woman dismissed from the sacrifice, the heart of the horse is taken out and roasted with fire, then sprinkled with vinegar, or brandy, and eaten by the husband and his friends then present; the female not being allowed to join in this part of the ceremony. The body of the horse, skin and every thing about it, except the heart, is buried on the spot; and years after the ceremony has taken place, the husband and his friends visit the grave of the animal to see whether it has been disturbed. At these visits, they walk round about the grave, with much grief and mourning.
[Footnote 176: It appears all the gipsies, male as well as female, who perform ceremonies for their tribe, carry long staffs. In the Institutes of Menu, page 23, it is written: "The staff of a priest must be of such a length as to reach his hair; that of a soldier to reach his forehead; and that of a merchant to reach the nose.">[
[Footnote 177: That I might distinctly understand the gipsy, when he described the manner of crossing and wheeling round the corners of the horse, a common sitting-chair was placed on its side between us, which represented the animal lying on the ground.]
"The husband may take another wife whenever he pleases, but the female is never permitted to marry again. [Footnote 178] The token, or rather bill of divorce, which she receives, must never be from about her person. If she loses it, or attempts to pass herself off as a woman never before married, she becomes liable to the punishment of death. In the event of her breaking this law, a council of the chiefs is held upon her conduct, and her fate is decided by a majority of the members; and if she is to suffer death, her sentence must be confirmed by the king, or principal leader. The culprit is then tied to a stake, with an iron chain, and there cudgelled to death. The executioners do not extinguish life at one beating, but leave the unhappy woman for a little while, and return to her, and at last complete their work by despatching her on the spot.
[Footnote 178: Bright, on the Spanish gipsies, says: "Widows never marry again, and are distinguished by mourning-veils, and black shoes made like those of a man; no slight mortification, in a country where the females are so remarkable for the beauty of their feet." It is most likely that divorced female gipsies are confounded here with widows. --Ed.]
"I have been informed of an instance of a gipsy falling out with his wife, and, in the heat of his passion, shooting his own horse dead on the spot with his pistol, and forthwith performing the ceremony of divorce over the animal, without allowing himself a moments's time for reflection on the subject. Some of the country-people observed the transaction, and were horrified at so extraordinary a proceeding. It was considered by them as merely a mad frolic of an enraged Tinkler. It took place many years ago, in a wild, sequestered spot between Galloway and Ayrshire."
The burial ceremonies of the tribes are not very fully described; but we are told that the funeral is, or used to be, preceded by a wake, during which furious feasting and carousing went on for several days. In England, at one time, the gipsies burned their dead, and they still keep as close as they can to that ancient practice, by burning the clothes and some of the other effects of the deceased. It is the custom of some of them to bury the corpse with a paper cap on its head, and paper around its feet. All the rest of the body is bare except that upon the breast, opposite the heart, is placed a cockade of red and blue ribbons.
The country people stood in dreadful awe of the savage hordes, and in many places the magistrates themselves were afraid to punish them. Their honors did not disdain now and then to share a convivial bowl with the wandering Tinklers, and the man who sat to-day with his legs under the provost's mahogany, may have slept last night in a deserted lime-kiln, and dined yesterday off a "sharp"-flavored joint of "braxy." As we have said already, the farmers knew it was safer to be the friend of the gipsy than his enemy, for he was equally generous to those he liked, and vindictive toward those he hated. Mr. Simson tells many an anecdote of favors shown by the tribe to their neighbors and favorites. A widow who had often given shelter to a chief named Charlie Graham, was in great distress for want of money to pay her rent. Charlie lent her the amount required, then stole it back again from the agent to whom it had been pad, and gave [{711}] the widow a full discharge for the sum she had borrowed of him. This same Graham was hanged at last, and when asked before his execution if he had ever performed any good action to recommend him to the Mercy of God, replied that he remembered none but the incident we have just narrated. A dissolute old rogue of a gipsy, named Jamie Robertson, had been often befriended by a decent man named Robert or Robin Gray. One day a countryman passed him on the road, and as he trudged along was singing "Auld Robin Gray," which unfortunately Jamie had never heard before. The only Robin Gray he knew of was his kind-hearted friend, and he made no doubt the song was intended as an insult. When the unconscious stranger came to the words "Auld Robin Gray was a kind man to me," the gipsy started to his feet with a volley of oaths, felled the poor man to the ground, and nearly killed him with repeated blows. "Auld Robin Gray was a kind man to him, indeed," exclaimed Jamie in his wrath; "but it was not for him to make a song on Robin for that!" The gipsy chieftains often gave safeguards to their particular friends, which never failed to protect them from robbery or violence at the hands of any of the gang. These passports were generally knives, tobacco-boxes, or rings bearing some peculiar mark. To those who had ever injured them or their people, and to vagrants of another race who were found poaching on their allotted district, they were savagely vindictive. A man named Thomson, who had offended them by encroaching on one of their supposed privileges--that of gathering rags through the country, was roasted to death on his own fire.
"But the most terrible instances of gipsy ferocity were witnessed in their frequent battles among themselves--battles by the way, in which the women bore their full share of wounds and glory. It was in an engagement of this sort in the shire of Angus, where the Tinklers fought with Highland dirks, that the celebrated gipsy Lizzie Brown met with the mishap which spoiled her once comely face, and obtained for her the sobriquet of "Snippy." When her nose was struck off by the sweep of a dirk, she clapped her hand to the wound, as if little had befallen her, and cried out in the heat of the scuffle to those nearest her: "But in the middle of the meantime, where is my nose?" In the spring of the year 1772 or 1773 an awful battle was fought between two tribes at the bridge of Hawick:
"On the one side, in this battle, was the celebrated Alexander Kennedy, a handsome and athletic man, and head of his tribe. Next to him, in consideration, was little Wull Ruthven, Kennedy's father-in-law. This man was known all over the country by the extraordinary title of the Earl of Hell, [Footnote 179] and, although he was above five feet ten inches in height, he got the appellation of Little Wull to distinguish him from Muckle William Ruthven, who was a man of uncommon stature and personal strength. [Footnote 180] The earl's son was also in the fray. These were the chief men in Kennedy's band. Jean Ruthven, Kennedy's wife, was also present, with a great number of inferior members of the clan, males as well as females, of all ages, down to mere children. The opposite band consisted of old Rob Tait, the chieftain of his horde, Jacob Tait, young Rob Tait, and three of old Rob Tait's sons-in-law. These individuals, with Jean Gordon, old Tait's wife, and a numerous train of youths of both sexes and various ages, composed the adherents of old Robert Tait. These adverse tribes were all closely connected with one another by the ties of blood. The Kennedys and Ruthvens were from the ancient burgh of Lochmaben.