A History of the Gipsies: with Specimens of the Gipsy Language

by Walter Simson

We cannot institute any comparison between the introduction of the Gipsies and the Huguenots, the last body of foreigners that entered Great Britain, relative to the destiny of the respective foreign elements. For the Huguenots were not a race, as distinguished from every other creature in the world, but a religious party, taking refuge among a people of cognate blood and language, and congenial religious feelings and faith; and were, to say the least of it, on a par, in every respect, with the ordinary natives, with nothing connected with them to prevent an amalgamation with the other inhabitants; but, on the contrary, having this characteristic, in common with the nations of Europe, that the place of birth constitutes the fact, and, taken in connection with the residence, creates the feelings of nationality and race. Many of my readers are, doubtless, conversant with the history of the Huguenots. Even in some parts of America, nothing is more common than for people to say that they are Huguenots, that is, of Huguenot descent, which is very commonly made the foundation of the connections and intimate associations of life. The peculiarity is frequently shown in the appearance of the individuals, and in such mental traits as spring from the contemplation of the Huguenots as an historical and religious party, even when the individual now follows the Catholic faith. But these people differ in no essential respect from the other inhabitants.

But how different is the position always occupied by the Gipsies! Well may they consider themselves “strangers in the land;” for by whom have they ever been acknowledged? They entered Scotland, for example, and have encreased, progressed, and developed, with so great a prejudice against them, and so separated in their feelings from others around them, as if none had almost existed in the country but themselves, while they were “dwelling in the midst of their brethren;” the native blood that has been incorporated with them having the appearance as if it had come from abroad. They, a people distinct from any other in the world, have sprung from the most primitive stage of human existence—the tent, and their knowledge of their race goes no further back than when it existed in other parts of the world, in the same condition, more or less, as themselves. They have been a migratory tribe, wherever they have appeared or settled, and have never ceased to be the same peculiar race, notwithstanding the changes which they have undergone; and have been at home wherever they have found themselves placed. The mere place of birth, or the circumstance under which the individual has been reared, has had no effect upon their special nationality, although, as citizens of particular countries, they have assimilated, in their general ideas, with others around them. And not only have they had a language peculiar to themselves, but signs as exclusively theirs as are those of Freemasons. For Gipsies stand to Gipsies as Freemasons to Freemasons; with this difference—that Masons are bound to respond to and help each other, while such associations, among the Gipsies, are optional with the individual, who, however, is persuaded that the same people, with these exclusive peculiarities, are to be met with in every part of the world. A Gipsy is, in his way, a Mason born, and, from his infancy, is taught to hide everything connected with his race, from those around him. He is his own tyler, and tyles his lips continually. Imagine, then, a person taught, from his infancy, to understand that he is a Gipsy; that his blood, (at least part of it,) is Gipsy; that he has been instructed in the language, and initiated in all the mysteries, of the Gipsies; that his relations and acquaintances in the tribe have undergone the same experience; that the utmost reserve towards those who are not Gipsies has been continually inculcated upon him, and as often practised before his eyes; and what must be the leading idea, in that person’s mind, but that he is a Gipsy? His pedigree is Gipsy, his mind has been cast in a Gipsy mould, and he can no more “cease to be a Gipsy” than perform any other impossibility in nature. Thus it is that Gipsydom is not a work of man’s hand, nor a creed, that is “revealed from faith to faith;” but a work which has been written by the hand of God upon the heart of a family of mankind, and is reflected from the mind of one generation to that of another. It enters into the feelings of the very existence of the man, and such is the prejudice against his race, on the part of the ordinary natives, that the better kind of Scottish Gipsy feels that he, and more particularly she, would almost be “torn in pieces,” if the public really knew all about them.

These facts will sufficiently illustrate how a people, “resembling, in so many respects, the Jews, without having any territory, or form of creed, peculiar to itself, or any history, or any peculiar outward associations or residences, or any material difference in appearance, character, or occupation,” can be a people, living among other people, and yet be distinct from those among whom they live. The distinction consists in this people having blood, language, a cast of mind, and signs, peculiar to itself; the three first being the only elements which distinguish races; for religion is a secondary consideration; one religion being common to many distinct races. This principle, which is more commonly applied to people occupying different countries, is equally applicable to races, clans, families, or individuals, living within the boundary of a particular country, or dwelling in the same community. We can easily understand how two individuals can be two distinct individuals, notwithstanding their being members of the same family, and professing the same religion. We can still more easily understand the same of two families, and still more so of two septs or clans of the same general race. And, surely, there can be no difficulty in understanding that the Gipsy tribe, whatever may be its habits, is something different from any native tribe: for it has never yet found rest for the sole of its foot among the native race, although it has secured a shelter clandestinely; and of the extent, and especially of the nature, of its existence, the world may be said to be entirely ignorant. The position which the Gipsy race occupies in Scotland is that which it substantially occupies in every other country—unacknowledged, and, in a sense, damned, everywhere. There is, therefore, no wonder that it should remain a distinct family among mankind, cemented by its language and signs, and the knowledge of its universality. The phenomenon rests upon purely natural causes, and differs considerably from that of the existence of the Jews. For the Jews are, everywhere, acknowledged by the world, after a sort; they have neither language nor, as far as I know, signs peculiar to themselves, (although there are secret orders among them,) but possess the most ancient history, an original country, to which they, more or less, believe they will be restored, and a religion of divine origin, but utterly superseded by a new and better dispensation. Notwithstanding all that, the following remark, relative to the existence of the Jews, since the dispersion, may very safely be recalled: “The philosophical historian confesses that he has no place for it in all his generalizations, and refers it to the mysteries of Providence.” For the history of the Gipsies bears a very great resemblance to it; and, inasmuch as that is not altogether “the device of men’s hands,” it must, also, be referred to Providence, for Providence has a hand in everything.

It is very true that the “philosophical historian has no place, in all his generalizations, for the phenomenon of the existence of the Jews, since the dispersion,” for he has never investigated the subject inductively, and on its own merits. It is poor logic to assert that, because the American Indians are, to a great extent, and will soon be, extinct, therefore the existence of the Jews, to-day, is a miracle. And it would be nearly as poor logic to maintain the same of the Jews in connection with any of the ancient and extinct nations. There is no analogy between the history of the Jews, since the dispersion, and that of any other people, (excepting the Gipsies;) and, consequently, no comparison can be instituted between them.[299] Before asking how it is that the Jews exist to-day, it would be well to enquire by what possible process they could cease to be Jews. And by what human means the Jews, as a people, or even as individuals, will receive Christ as their Messiah, and thereby become Christian Jews. This idea of the Jews existing by a miracle has been carried to a very great length, as the following quotation, from an excellent writer, on the Evidences of Christianity, will show: “What is this,” says he, “but a miracle? connected with the prophecy which it fulfills, it is a double miracle. Whether testimony can ever establish the credibility of a miracle is of no importance here. This one is obvious to every man’s senses. All nations are its eye-witnesses. . . . . The laws of nature have been suspended in their case.” This writer, in a spirit of gambling, stakes the whole question of revelation upon his own dogma; and, according to his hypothesis, loses it. The laws of nature would, indeed, have been suspended, in their case, and a miracle would, indeed, have been wrought, if the Jews had ceased to be Jews, or had become anything else than what they are to-day. Writers on the Christian Evidences should content themselves with maintaining that the Jews have fulfilled the prophecies, and will yet fulfill them, and assert nothing further of them.

The writer alluded to compares the history of the Jews, since the dispersion, to the following phenomenon: “A mighty river, having plunged, from a mountain height, into the depths of the ocean, and been separated into its component drops, and thus scattered to the ends of the world, and blown about, by all winds, during almost eighteen centuries, is still capable of being disunited from the waters of the ocean; its minutest drops, never having been assimilated to any other, are still distinct, unchanged, and ready to be gathered.” Such language cannot be applied to the Jews; for the philosophy of their existence, to-day, is so very simple in its nature, as to have escaped the observation of mankind. I will give it further on in this [Disquisition]. The language in question is somewhat applicable to the Gipsies, for they have become worked into all other nations, in regard to blood and language, and are “still distinct and unchanged,” as to their being Gipsies, whatever their habits may be; and, although there is no occasion for them to be “gathered,” they would yet, outwardly or inwardly, heartily respond to any call addressed to them.[300]

There is, as I have already said, no real outward difference between many settled and educated Scottish Gipsies and ordinary natives; for such Gipsies are as likely to have fair hair and blue eyes, as black. Their characters and occupations may be the same; they may have intimate associations together; may be engaged in business as partners; may even be cousins, nay, half-brothers. But let them, on separate occasions, enter a company of Gipsies, and the reception shown to them will mark the difference in the two individuals. The difference between two such Scotchmen, (for they really are both Scotch,) the reader may remark, makes the Gipsy only a Gipsy nominally, which, outwardly, he is; but he is still a Gipsy, although, in point of colour, character, or condition, not one of the old stock; for he has “the blood,” and has been reared and instructed as a Gipsy. But such a Gipsy is not fond of entering a company of Gipsies, strangers to him, unless introduced by a friend in whom he has confidence, for he is afraid of being known to be a Gipsy. He is more apt to visit some of the more original kind of the race, where he is not known. On sitting down beside them, with a friendly air, they will be sure to treat him kindly, not knowing but that they may be entertaining a Gipsy unawares; for such original Gipsies, believing that “the blood” is to be found well up in life, feel very curious when they meet with such a person. If he “lets out” an idea in regard to the race, and expresses a kindly feeling towards “the blood,” the suspicions of his friends are at once excited, so that, if he, in an equivocal manner, remarks that he is “not one of them,” hesitates, stammers, and protests that he really is not one of them, they will as readily swear that he is one of them; for well does the blackguard Gipsy, (as the world calls him,) know the delicacy of such settled and educated Gipsies in owning the blood. There is less suspicion shown, on such occasions, when the settled Gipsy is Scotch, and the bush Gipsy English; and particularly so should the occasion be in America; for, when they meet in America, away from the peculiar relations under which they have been reared, and where they can “breathe,” as they express it, the respective classes are not so suspicious of each other.

Besides the difference just drawn between the Gipsy and ordinary native—that of recognizing and being recognized by another Gipsy—I may mention the following general distinction between them. The ordinary Scot knows that he is a Scot, and nothing more, unless it be something about his ancestors of two or three generations. But the Gipsy’s idea of Scotland goes back to a certain time, indefinite to him, as it may be, beyond which his race had no existence in the country. Where his ancestors sojourned, immediately, or at any time, before they entered Scotland, he cannot tell; but this much he knows of them, that they are neither Scottish nor European, but that they came from the East. The fact of his blood being mixed exercises little or no influence over his feelings relative to his tribe, for, mixed as it may be, he knows that he is one of the tribe, and that the origin of his tribe is his origin. In a word, he knows that he has sprung from the tent. Substitute the word Scotch for Moor, as related of the black African Gipsies, at [page 429], and he may say of himself and tribe: “We are not Scotch, but can give no account of ourselves.” It is a little different, if the mixture of his blood is of such recent date as to connect him with native families; in that case, he has “various bloods” to contend for, should they be assailed; but his Gipsy blood, as a matter of course, takes precedence. By marrying into the tribe, the connection with such native families gradually drops out of the memory of his descendants, and leaves the sensation of tribe exclusively Gipsy. Imagine, then, that the Gipsy has been reared a Gipsy, in the way so frequently described, and that he “knows all about the Gipsies,” while the ordinary native knows really nothing about them; and we have a general idea of what a Scottish Gipsy is, as distinguished from an ordinary Scotchman. If we admit that every native Scot knows who he is, we may readily assume that every Scottish Gipsy knows who he is. But, to place the point of difference in a more striking light, it may be remarked, that the native Scot will instinctively exclaim, that “the present work has no earthly relation either to him or his folk;” while the Scottish Gipsy will as instinctively exclaim: “It’s us, there’s no mistake about it;” and will doubtless accept it, in the main, with a high degree of satisfaction, as the history of his race, and give it to his children as such.

A respectable, indeed, any kind of, Scottish Gipsy does not contemplate his ancestors—the “Pilgrim Fathers,” and “Pilgrim Mothers,” too—as robbers, although he could do that with as much grace as any Highland or Border Scot, but as a singular people, who doubtless came from the Pyramids; and their language, as something about which he really does not know what to think; whether it is Egyptian, Sanscrit, or what it is. Still, he has part of it; he loves it; and no human power can tear it out of his heart. He knows that every intelligent being sticks to his own, and clings to his descent; and he considers it his highest pride to be an Egyptian—a descendant of those swarthy kings and queens, princes and princesses, priests and priestesses, and, of course, thieves and thievesses, that, like an apparition, found their way into, and, after wandering about, settled down in, Scotland. Indeed, he never knew anything else than that he was an Egyptian; for it is in his blood; and, what is more, it is in his heart, so that he cannot forget it, unless he should lose his faculties and become an idiot; and then he would be an Egyptian idiot. How like a Gipsy it was for Mrs. Fall, of Dunbar, to “work in tapestry the principal events in the life of the founder of her family, from the day the Gipsy child came to Dunbar, in its mother’s creel, until the same Gipsy child had become, by its own honourable exertions, the head of the first mercantile establishment then existing in Scotland.”

The Scottish Gipsies, when their appearance has been modified by a mixture of the white blood, have possessed, in common with the Highlanders, the faculty of “getting out” of the original ways of their race, and becoming superior in character, notwithstanding the excessive prejudice that exists against the nation of which they hold themselves members. Except his strong partiality for his blood and tribe, language, and signs, such a Gipsy becomes, in his general disposition and ways, like any ordinary native. It is impossible that it should be otherwise. Whenever a Gipsy, then, forsakes his original habits, and conforms with the ways of the other inhabitants, he becomes, for all practical purposes, an ordinary citizen of the Gipsy clan. If he is a man of good natural abilities, the original wild ambition of his race acquires a new turn; and his capacity fits him for any occupation. Priding himself on being an Egyptian, a member of this world-wide community, he acquires, as he gains information, a spirit of liberality of sentiment; he reads history, and perceives that every family of mankind has not only been barbarous, but very barbarous, at one time; and, from such reflections, he comes to consider his own origin, and very readily becomes confirmed in his early, but indistinct, ideas of his people, that they really are somebody. Indeed, he considers himself not only as good, but better than other people. His being forced to assume an incognito, and “keep as quiet as pussy,” chafes his proud spirit, but it does not render him gloomy, for his natural disposition is too buoyant for that. How, then, does such a Scottish Gipsy feel in regard to his ancestors? He feels exactly as Highlanders do, in regard to theirs, or, as the Scottish Borderers do, with reference to the “Border Ruffians,” as I have heard a Gipsy term them. Indeed, the gallows of Perth and Stirling, Carlisle and Jedburgh, could tell some fine tales of many respectable Scottish people, in times that are past.

The children of such a Gipsy differ very much from those of the same race in their natural state, although they may have the same amount of blood, and the same eye. The eye of the former is subdued, for his passions, in regard to his race, have never been called forth; while the eye of the latter rolls about, as if he were conscious that every one he meets with is remarking of him, “There goes a vagabond of a Gipsy.” Two fine specimens of the former kind of Gipsies attended the High School of Edinburgh, when I was at that institution. Hearing the family frequently spoken of at home, my attention was often taken up with the boys, without understanding what a Gipsy of that kind could mean; although I had a pretty good idea of the common Gipsy, or Tinkler, as he is generally called in Scotland. These two young Gipsies were what might be called sweet youths; modest and shy, among the other boys, as young tamed wild turkeys; very dark in colour, with an eye that could be caught in whatever way I might look at them. They now occupy very honourable positions in life. There were other Gipsies at the High School, at this time, but they were of the “brown sort.” I have met, in the United States, with a Scottish Gipsy, taking greatly after the Gipsy, in his appearance; a man very gentlemanly in his manner and bearing, and as neat and trim as if he had “come out of a box.” It is natural, indeed, to suppose that there must be a great difference, in many respects, between a wild, original Gipsy, and one of the tame and educated kind, whose descent is several, perhaps many, generations from the tent. In the houses of the former, things are generally found lying about, here-away, there-away, as if they were just going to be taken out and placed in the waggon, or on the ass’s back.