Iveco Power Latin America OIC

04.2021 EPC
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Iveco Power Latin America OIC [04.2021] EPC Spare Parts CatalogSize: 1.71Gb
(.Iso File)Interface Languages + Database Language: PortuguageType: Spare
Parts Catalog for IVECO TRUCK & BUSRegion: All regionsAmount of DVD: 1 DVD
ISOWindow: Window XP, Window 7, Window 8, Window 10 32 & 64
BitHigh-Speed Link DownloadYear: 04.2021Original parts catalog IVECO.IVECO
Power represents the new version of the catalog of spare parts for trucks, vans and
buses IVECO (including the army and fire trucks). All old versions of programs
called Iveco Compact and distributed on CD.Iveco concern was formed in
November 1974 following an agreement Klockner-Humboldt-Deutz (KHD) on the
transfer of its branches Magirus-Deutz under the control of FIAT. The composition
includes IVECO Magirus-Deutz, FIAT, as well as Italian and foreign units such as
OM FIAT, Lancia, French FIAT France SA (manufactured trucks brand Unic).
Headquartered IVECO housed in Turin.The catalog IVECO Power on one DVD.
Can operate directly from a DVD or install a shell or data. This program IVECO
Power is one of the most simple and easy to work on buses.Work with the parts
catalog, you can not even owning any foreign language, but it's better to have a
basic knowledge of one of six foreign languages. There is a search by model, VIN
number, according to VP number on the original part number or name.
Comparison of two different versions of one model. To identify the vehicle used
last seven characters of the VIN
Download all on: manualpost.com.
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 “And see that ye dinna weep for me!
For they may ravish me o’ my life,
But they canna banish me fro Heavin hie.

“Fare ye weel, fair Maggie, my wife!

The last time we came ower the muir,
‘Twas thou bereft me of my life,
And wi’ the Bishop thou play’d the whore.

“Here, Johnie Armstrang, take thou my sword,

That is made o’ the metal sae fine;
And when thou comest to the English side,
Remember the death of Hughie the Græme.”[201]

I will now give the testimony of the Gipsy chief from whom I received the “blowing up” alluded to, by
Mr. Laidlaw, in the Introduction to the work.[202]
One of the greatest fairs in Scotland is held, annually, on the 18th day of July, at St. Boswell’s Green, in
Roxburghshire. I paid a visit to this fair, for the purpose of taking a view of the Gipsies. An
acquaintance, whom I met at the fair, observed to me, that he was sure if any one could give me
information regarding the Tinklers, it would be old ——, the horner, at ——. To ensure a kind reception
from the Gipsies, it was agreed upon, between us, that I should introduce myself by mentioning who
my ancestors were, on whose numerous farms, (sixteen, rented by my grandfather, in 1781,[203]) their
forefathers had received many a night’s quarters, in their out-houses. We soon found out the old
chieftain, sitting in a tent, in the midst of about a dozen of his tribe, all nearly related to him. The
moment I made myself known to them, the whole of the old persons immediately expressed their
gratitude for the humane treatment they, and their forefathers, had received at the farms of my
relatives. They were extremely glad to see me; and “God bless you,” was repeated by several of the old
females. “Ay,” said they, “those days are gone. Christian charity has now left the land. We know the
people are growing more hard and uncharitable every year.” I found the old man shrewd, sensible, and
intelligent; far beyond what could have been expected from a person of his caste and station in life. He,
besides, possessed all that merriness and jocularity which I have often observed among a number of
the males of his race. After some conversation with this chief, who appeared about eighty years of age,
I enquired if his people, who, in large bands, about sixty years ago, traversed the south of Scotland,
had not an ancient language, peculiar to themselves. He hesitated a little, and then readily replied, that
the Tinklers had no language of their own, except a few cant words. I observed to him that he knew
better—that the Tinklers had, beyond dispute, a language of their own; and that I had some knowledge
of its existence at the present day. He, however, declared that they had no such language, and that I
was wrongly informed. In the hearing of all the Gipsies in the tent, I repeated to him four or five Gipsy
words and expressions. At this he appeared amazed; and on my adding some particulars relative to
some of the ancestors of the tribe then present, enumerating, I think, three generations of their clan,
one of the old females exclaimed, “Preserve me, he kens a’ about us!” The old chief immediately took
hold of my right hand, below the table, with a grasp as if he were going to shake it: and, in a low and
subdued tone of voice, so as none might near but myself, requested me to say not another word in the
place where we were sitting, but to call on him, at the town of ——, and he would converse with me on
that subject. I considered it imprudent to put any more questions to him relative to his speech, on this
occasion, and agreed to meet him at the place he appointed.
Several persons in the tent, (it being one of the public booths in the market,) who were not Gipsies,
were equally surprised, when they observed an understanding immediately take place between me and
the Tinklers, by means of a few words, the meaning of which they could not comprehend. A farmer,
from the south of Scotland, who was present in the tent, and had that morning given the Tinklers a
lamb to eat, met me, some days after, on the banks of the Yarrow. He shook his head, and observed,
with a smile, “Yon was queer-looking wark wi’ the Tinklers.”
As I was anxious to penetrate to his secret speech, I resolved to keep the appointment with the Gipsy,
whatever might be the result of our meeting, and I therefore proceeded to the town which he
mentioned, eleven days after I had seen him at the fair. On enquiring of the landlord of the principal
inn, at which I put up my horse, where the house of ——, the Tinkler, was situated in the town, he
appeared surprised, and eyed me all over. He told me the street, but said he would not accompany me
to the house, thinking that I wished him to go with me. It was evident that the landlord, whom I never
saw before, considered himself in bad company, in spite of my black clothes, black neck-cloth, and
ruffles aforesaid, and was determined not to be seen on the street, either with me or the Tinkler. I told
him I by no means wished him to accompany me, but only to tell me in what part of the town the
Tinkler’s house was to be found.
On entering the house, I found the old chief sitting, without his coat, with an old night-cap on his head,
a leathern apron around his waist, and all covered with dust or soot, employed in making spoons from
horn. After conversing with him for a short time, I reminded him of the ancient language with which he
was acquainted. He assumed a grave countenance, and said the Tinklers had no such language, adding,
at the same time, that I should not trouble myself about such matters. He stoutly denied all knowledge
of the Tinkler language, and said no such tongue existed in Scotland, except a few cant words. I
persisted in asserting that they were actually in possession of a secret language, and again tried him
with a few of my words; but to no purpose. All my efforts produced no effect upon his obstinacy. At this
stage of my interview, I durst not mention the word Gipsy, as they are exceedingly alarmed at being
known as Gipsies. I now signified that he had forfeited his promise, given me at the fair, and rose to
leave him. At this remark, I heard a man burst out a-laughing, behind a partition that ran across the
apartment in which we were sitting. The old man likewise started to his feet, and, with both his sooty
hands, took hold of the breast of my coat, on either side, and, in this attitude, examined me closely,
scanning me all over from head to foot. After satisfying himself, he said, “Now, give me a hold of your
hand—farewell—I will know you when I see you again.” I bade him good-day, and left the house.[204]
I had now no hope of obtaining any information from this man, regarding his peculiar language. I had
scarcely, however, proceeded a hundred yards down the street, from the house, when I was overtaken
by a young female, who requested me to return, to speak with her father. I immediately complied. On
reaching the door, with the girl, I met one of the old man’s sons, who said that he had overheard what
passed between his father and me, in the house. He assured me that his father was ashamed to give
me his language; but that, if I would promise not to publish their names, or place of residence, he
would himself give me some of their speech, if his father still persevered in his refusal. I accordingly
agreed not to make public the names, and place of residence, of the family. I again entered the little
factory of horn spoons. Matters were now, to all appearance, quite changed. The old man was very
cheerful, and seemed full of mirth. “Come away,” said he; “what is this you are asking after? I would
advise you to go to Mr. Stewart, at Hawick, and he will tell you everything about our language.” “Father,”
said the son, who had resumed his place behind the partition before mentioned, “you know that Mr.
Stewart will give our speech to nobody.” The old chief again hesitated and considered, but, being urged
by his son and myself, he, at last, said, “Come away, then; I will tell you whatever you think proper to
ask me. I gave you my oath, at the fair, to do so. Get out your paper, pen and ink, and begin.” He gave
me no other oath, at the fair, than his word, and taking me by the hand, that he would converse with
me regarding the speech of the Tinklers. But, I believe, joining hands is considered an oath in some
countries of the Eastern world. I was fully convinced, however, that he was ashamed to give me his
speech, and that it was with the greatest reluctance he spoke one word on the subject. The following
are the words and sentences which I collected from him:[205]

Pagrie, to break.
Humf, give me.
Mar, to strike.
Mang, to speak.
Kair, house.
Drom, street or road.
Vile, village.
Gave, village.
Jaw drom, take the road, get off quickly.
Hatch here, come here.
Bing, the devil.
Bing lee, devil miss me.
Moolie, death.
Moolie, I’ll kill you.
Mooled, murdered.
Moolie a gaugie, kill the man.
Powiskie, gun or pistol.
Harro, sword.
Shammel, sword.
Chourie, knife.
Rachlin, hanged.
Sallah[206], to curse.
Klistie, soldier.
Nash, deserter.
Grye-femler, horse-dealer.
Staurdie, prison.
Nak, nose.
Yak, eye.
Yaka, eyes.
Mooie, mouth.
Vast, hand.
Sherro, head.
Femmel, hand.
Lowie, coin or money.
Lowa, silver.
Curdie, half-penny.
Bar, five shillings.
Size, six.
Grye, horse.
Greham, horse.
Prancie, horse.
Aizel, ass.
Jucal, dog.
Routler, cow.
Bakra, sheep.
Matchka, cat.
Bashanie, cock.
Caunie, hen.
Thood, milk.
Molzie, wine.
Bulliment, loaf of bread.
Neddie, potato.
Shaucha, broth.
Mass, flesh.
Habben, bread.
Pauplers, pottage.
Paunie, water.
Paurie, water.
Mumlie, candle.
Blinkie, candle.
Flatrin, fish.
Chizcazin, cheese.
Romanie, whiskey.
Casties, wood.
Filsh, tree.
Lodlie, quarters.
Choar, to steal.
Chor, a thief.
Bumie, to drink.
Jaw vree, go away.
Graunzie, barn.
Graunagie, barn.
Clack, stone.
Yak, fire.
Peerie, pot.
Treepie, pot-lid.
Roy, spoon.
Skew, platter.
Swag, sack.
Ingrims, pincers.
Yog-ingrims, fire-irons.
Sauster, iron.
Mashlam, brass or metal.
Fizam, grass.
Penam, hay.
Geeve, corn.
Greenam, corn.
Beerie, ship.
Outhrie, window.
Nab, horn.
Shucha, coat.
Scaf, hat.
Gogle, hat.
Cockle, hat.
Calshes, breeches.
Teeyakas, shoes.
Olivers, stockings.
Beenship, good.
Baurie, good.
Shan, bad.
Rauge, mad.
Riah, Rajah, chief, governor.
Been riah, the king.
Been mort, the queen.
Been gaugie, gentleman.
Been riah, gentleman.
Been mort, lady.
Yagger, collier.
Nawken,[207] Tinkler, Gipsy.
Davies, day.
Rat, night.
Beenship mashlam, good metal.
Beenship-rat, good-night.
Beenlightment, Sabbath-day.
Shan drom, bad road.
Shan davies, bad day.
Gaugie, man.
Managie, woman.
 Mort, wife.
Chavo, son.
Chauvies, children.
Praw, son.
Prawl, daughter.
Nais-gaugie, grandfather.
Nais-mort, grandmother.
Aukaman, marriage.
Carie, penis.
Bight, pudenda.
Sjair, to ease nature.
Jair dah, a woman’s apron.

I was desirous to learn, from this Gipsy, if there were any traditions among the Scottish Gipsies, as to
their origin, and the country from which they came. He stated that the language of which he had given
me a specimen was an Ethiopian dialect, used by a tribe of thieves and robbers; and that the Gipsies
were originally from Ethiopia, although now called Gipsies.[208] He now spoke of himself and his tribe by
the name of Gipsies, without hesitation or alarm. “Our Gipsy language,” added he, “is softer than your
harsh Gaelic.” He was at considerable pains to give me the proper sound of the words. The letter a is
pronounced broad in their language, like aw in paw, or a in water; and ie, or ee, in the last syllable of a
great many words, are sounded short and quick; and ch soft, as in church. Their speech appears to be
copious, for, said he, they have a great many words and expressions for one thing. He further stated
that the Gipsy language has no alphabet, or character, by which it can be learned, or its grammatical
construction ascertained. He never saw any of it written. I observed to him that it would, in course of
time, be lost. He replied, that “so long as there existed two Gipsies in Scotland, it would never be lost.”
He informed me that every one of the Yetholm Tinklers spoke the language; and that almost all those
persons who were selling earthen-ware at St. Boswell’s fair were Gipsies. I counted myself twenty-four
families, with earthen-ware, and nine female heads of families, selling articles made of horn. These
thirty-three families, together with a great many single Gipsies scattered through the fair, would amount
to above three hundred Gipsies on the spot. He further mentioned that none of the Yetholm Gipsies
were at the market. The old man also informed me that a great number of our horse-dealers are
Gipsies. “Listen attentively,” said he, “to our horse-coupers, in a market, and you will hear them
speaking in the Gipsy tongue.” I enquired how many there were in Scotland acquainted with the
language. He answered, “There are several thousand.” I further enquired, if he thought the Gipsy
population would amount to five thousand souls. He replied he was sure there were fully five thousand
of his tribe in Scotland. It was further stated to me, by this family, that the Gipsies are at great pains in
teaching their children, from their very infancy, their own language; and that they embrace every
opportunity, when by themselves, of conversing in it, about their ordinary affairs. They also pride
themselves very much in being in possession of a speech peculiar to themselves—quite unknown to the
public.
I then sent for some spirits wherewith to treat the old chief; but I was cautioned, by one of the family,
not to press him to drink much, as, from his advanced age and infirmities, little did him harm. The
moment you speak to an intelligent Gipsy chief, in a familiar and kindly manner, putting yourself, as it
were, on a level with him, you find him entirely free from all embarrassment in his manners. He speaks
to you, at once, in a free, independent, confident, emphatic tone, without any rudeness in his way of
addressing you. He never loses his self-possession. The old chieftain sang part of a Gipsy song, in his
own language, but he would not allow me to write it down.[209] Indeed, by his manner, he seemed
frequently to hesitate whether he would proceed any further in giving me information, and appeared to
regret that he had gone so far as he had done. I now and then stopped him in his song, and asked him
the meaning of some of the expressions. It was, however, intermixed with a few English words; perhaps
every fifth word was English. The Gipsy words, graunzie (barn), caunies (chickens), molzie (wine),
staurdie (prison), mort and chauvies (wife and children), were often repeated. In short, the subject of
the song was that of a Gipsy, lying in chains in prison, lamenting that he could not support his wife and
children by plunder and robbery. The Gipsy was represented as mourning over his hard fate, deprived of
his liberty, confined in a dungeon, and expressing the happiness and delight which he had when free,
and would have were he lying in a barn, or out-house, living upon poultry, and drinking wine with his
tribe.[210]
This family, like all their race, now became much alarmed at their communications; and it required
considerable trouble on my part to allay their fears. The old man was in the greatest anguish of mind,
at having committed himself at all, relative to his speech. I was very sorry for his distress, and renewed
my promise not to publish his name, or place of residence, assuring him he had nothing to fear. It is
now many years since he died. He was considered a very decent, honest man, and was a great
favourite with those who were acquainted with him. But his wife, and some other members of his
family, followed the practices of their ancestors.
Publish their language! Give to the world that which they had kept to themselves, with so much
solicitude, so much tenacity, so much fidelity, for three hundred and fifty years! A parallel to such a
phenomenon cannot be found within the whole range of history.[211] What will the Tinklers, the “poor
things,” as Sir Walter Scott so feelingly called them—what will they think of me, after the publication of
the present work?[212]
While walking one day, with a friend, around the harbour of Grangemouth, I observed a man, who
appeared above seventy years of age, carrying a small wooden box on his shoulder, a leathern apron
tied around his waist, with a whitish coloured bull-dog following him. He was enquiring of the crews of
the vessels in the port, whether they had any pots, kettles, or pans to repair. Just as my friend and I
came up to him, on the quay, I said to him, in a familiar manner, as if I knew exactly what he was,
“Baurie jucal,” words which signify, in the Gipsy language, a “good dog.” Being completely taken by
surprise, the old man turned quickly round, and, looking down at his dog, said, without thinking what
he was about, “Yes, the dog is not bad.” But the words had scarcely escaped his lips ere he affected not
to comprehend my question, after he had distinctly answered it. He looked exceedingly foolish, and
afforded my friend a hearty laugh, at his attempt at recovering himself. He became agitated and angry,
and called out, “What do you mean? I don’t understand you—yes, the dog is hairy.” I said not another
word, nor took any further notice of him, but passed on, in case of provoking him to mischief. He stood
stock-still upon the spot, and, keeping his eyes fixed upon me, as long as I was in sight, appeared to be
considering with himself what I could be, or whether he might not have seen me before. He looked so
surprised and alarmed, that he could scarcely trust himself in the place, since he found, to a certainty,
that his grand secret was known. I saw him a short while afterwards, at a little distance, with his
glasses on, sitting on the ground, in the manner of the East, with his hammers and files, tin and copper,
about him, repairing cooking utensils belonging to a vessel in the basin; with his trusty jucal, sitting
close at his back, like a sentinel, to defend him. The truth is, I was not very fond of having anything
further to do with this member of the tribe, in case he had resented my interference with him and his
speech. This old man wore a long great-coat, and externally looked exactly like a blacksmith. No one of
ordinary observation could have perceived him to be a Gipsy; as there were no striking peculiarities of
expression about his countenance, which indicated him as being one of that race. I was surprised at my
own discovery.
A Gipsy informed me that almost all our thimble-riggers, or “thimble-men,” as they are sometimes
called, are a superior class of Gipsies, and converse in the Gipsy language. In the summer of 1836, an
opportunity presented itself to me to verify the truth of this information. On a by-road, between
Edinburgh and Newhaven, I fell in with a band of these thimble-riggers, employed at their nefarious
occupation. The band consisted of six individuals, all personating different characters of the community.
Some had the appearance of mercantile clerks, and others represented young farmers, or dealers in
cattle, of inferior appearance. The man in charge of the board and thimbles looked like a journeyman
blacksmith or plumber. They all pretended to be strangers to each other. Some were betting and
playing, and others looking on, and acting as decoys. None besides themselves were present, except
myself, a young lad, and a respectable-looking elderly female. I stood and looked at the band for a
little; but as nobody was playing but themselves, the man with the thimbles, to lead me on, urged me
to bet with him, and try my fortune at his board. I said I did not intend to play, and was only looking at
them. I took a steady look at the faces of each of the six villains; but, whenever their eyes caught mine,
they looked away, or down to the ground, verifying the saying that a rogue cannot look you in the face.
The man at the board again urged me to play, and, with much vapouring and insolence, took out a
handful of notes, and said he had many hundreds a year; that I was a poor, shabby fellow, and had no
money on me, and, therefore, could not bet with him. I desired him to let me alone, otherwise I would
let them see I was not to be insulted, and that I knew more about them than they were aware of. “Who
the devil are you, sir, to speak to us in that manner,” was the answer I received. I again replied, that, if
they continued their insolence, I would show them who I was. This only provoked them the more, and
encreased their violent behaviour. High words then arose, and the female alluded to, thinking I was in
danger, kindly entreated me to leave them. I now thought it time to try what effect my Gipsy words
would produce upon them. In an authoritative tone of voice, I called out to them, “Chee, chee!” which,
in the Scottish Gipsy language, signifies “Hold your tongue,” “be silent,” or “silence.”[213] The surprised
thimble-men were instantly silent. They spoke not a word, but looked at one another. Only, one of them
whispered to his companions, “He is not to be meddled with.” They immediately took up their board,
thimbles and all, and left the place, apparently in considerable alarm, some taking one direction and
some another. The female in question was also surprised at seeing their insolent conduct repressed, in a
moment, by a single expression. “But, sir,” said she, “what was that you said to them, for they seem
afraid?” I was myself afraid to say another word to them, and took care they did not see me go to my
dwelling-house.[214]
One of the favourite, and permanent, fields of operation of these thimblers is on the Queensferry road,
from where it is intersected by the street leading from the back of Leith Fort, on the east, to the new
road leading from Granton pier, on the west. This part of the Queensferry road is intersected by about
half-a-dozen cross-roads, all leading from the landing and shipping places at the piers of Granton,
Trinity, and Newhaven. These cross-roads are cut by three roads running nearly parallel to each other,
viz., the road along the sea-beach, Trinity road, and the Queensferry road. A great portion of the
passengers, by the many steamboats, pass along all these different roads, to and from Edinburgh. On
all of these roads, between the water of Leith and the Forth, the thimble-riggers station themselves, as
single individuals, or in numbers, as it may answer their purpose. In fact, this part of the country
between the sea and Edinburgh, is so much chequered by roads crossing each other, that it may be
compared to the meshes of a spider’s web, and the thimblers as so many spiders, watching to pounce
upon their prey. The moment one of these sentinels observes a stranger appear, signals are made to his
confederates, when their organized plan of operations for entrapping the unwary person is immediately
put in execution. Strangers, unacquainted with the locality, are greatly bewildered among all the cross-
roads mentioned, and have considerable difficulty in threading their way to the city. One of the gang will
then step forward, and, pretending to be a stranger himself, will enquire of the others the road to such
and such a place. Frequently the unsuspecting and bewildered individual will enquire of the thimbler for
some street or place in Edinburgh. The decoy and the victim now walk in company, and converse
familiarly together on various topics; the thimbler offers snuff to his friend, and makes himself as
agreeable as he can; while one of the gang, at a distance in front, drops a watch, chain, or other piece
of mock jewelry, or commences playing at the thimble-board. The decoy is sure to lead his dupe exactly
to the spot where the trap is laid, and where he will probably be plundered. One or these entrapments
terminated in the death of its subject. A working man, having risked his half-year’s wages at the
thimble-board, of course lost every farthing of the money; and took the loss so much to heart as, in a fit
of despondency, to drown himself in the water of Leith.
In the beginning of 1842, I fell in with six of these thimble-riggers and chain-droppers, on Newhaven
road, on their way to Edinburgh. I was anxious to discover the nature of their conversation, and kept as
close to them as I could, without exciting their suspicions. Like that of most people brought up in one
particular line of life, their conversation related wholly to their own trade—that of swindling, theft, and
robbery. I overheard them speaking of “bloody swells,” and of dividing their booty. One of them was
desired by the others to look after a certain steamboat, expected to arrive, and to get a bill to ascertain
its movements exactly. He said he would “require three men to take care of that boat”; meaning, as I
understood him, that all these men were necessary for laying his snares, and executing his designs
upon the unsuspecting passengers, as they landed from the vessel, and were on their way to their
destinations. The manager of the steamboat company could not have consulted with his subordinates,
about their lawful affairs, with more care and deliberation, or in a more cool, business-like way, than
were these villains in contriving plans for plundering the public. On their approach to Pilrig street, the
band separated into pairs; some taking the north, and some the south, side of Leith walk, for
Edinburgh, where they vanished in the crowd. Their language was fearful, every expression being
accompanied by a terrible oath.
On another occasion, I fell in with another band of these vagabond thimble-men, on the Dalkeith road,
near Craigmiller Castle. I asked the fellow with the thimbles, “Is that gaugie a nawken?” pointing to one
of the gang who had just left him. The question, in plain English, was, “Is that man a Gipsy?” The
thimbler flew at once into a great passion, and bawled out, “Ask himself, sir.” He then fell upon me, and
a gentleman who was with me, in most abusive language, applying to us the most insulting epithets he
could think of. It was evident to my friend that the thimble-man perfectly understood my Gipsy
question. So enraged was he, that we were afraid he would follow us, and do us some harm. My friend
did not consider himself safe till he was in the middle of Edinburgh, for many a look did he cast behind
him, to see whether the Gipsy was not in pursuit of us.[215]
The Gipsies in Scotland consider themselves to be of the same stock as those in England and Ireland,
for they are all acquainted with the same speech. They afford assistance to one another, whenever they
happen to meet. The following facts will at least show that the Scottish and Irish Gipsies are one and
the same people.
In the county of Fife, I once fell in with an Irish family, to appearance in great poverty and distress,
resting themselves on the side of the public road. A shelty and an ass were grazing hard by. The ass
they used in carrying a woman, who, they said, was a hundred and one years of age. She was shrunk
and withered to a skeleton, or rather, I should say, to a bundle of bones; and her chin almost rested on
her knees, and her body was nearly doubled by age. On interrogating the head of the family, I found
that his name was Hugh White, and that he was an Irishman, and a son of the old woman who was
with him. I put some Gipsy words to him, to ascertain whether or not he was one of the tribe. He
pretended not to understand what I said; but his daughter, of about six years of age, replied, “But I
understand what he says.” I then called out sharply to him, “Jaw vree“—(“Go away,” or “get out of the
way.”) “As soon as I can,” was his answer. On leaving him, I again called, “Beenship-davies“—(“Good-
day.”) “Good-day, sir; God bless you,” was his immediate reply.
I happened, at another time, to be in the court-house of one of the burghs north of the Forth, when
two Irishmen, of the names of O’Reilly and McEwan, were at the bar for having been found drunk, and
fighting within the town. They were sentenced by the magistrates to three days’ imprisonment, and to
be “banished the town,” for their riotous conduct. The men had the Irish accent, and had certainly been
born and brought up in Ireland; but their habiliments and general appearance did not correspond
exactly with the ordinary dress and manners of common Irish peasants, although their features were in
all respects Hibernian. When the magistrates questioned them in respect to their conduct, the prisoners
looked very grave, and said, “Sure, and it plase your honours, our quarrel was nothing but whiskey, and
sure we are the best friends in the world;” and seemed very penitent. But when the magistrates were
not looking at them, they were smiling to each other, and keeping up a communication in pantomime.
Suspecting them to be Irish Gipsies, I addressed the wife of McEwan as follows: “For what is the riah
(magistrate) going to put your gaugie (man) in staurdie, (prison)?” “Only for a little whiskey, sir,” was
her immediate reply. She gave me, on the spot, the English of the following words; adding, at the same
time, that I had got the Gipsy language, but that hers was only the English cant. She was afraid to
acknowledge that she was a Gipsy, as such a confession might, in her opinion, have proved prejudicial
to her husband, in the situation in which he was placed.

Gaugie, man.
Managie, woman.
 Chauvies, children.
Riah, magistrate.
Chor, thief.
Yaka, eyes.
Grye, horse.
Roys, spoons.
Skews, platters.
Mashlam, metal.

I observed the woman instantly communicate to her husband the conversation she had with me. She
immediately returned to me, and, after questioning me as to my name, occupation, and place of
residence, very earnestly entreated me to save her gaugie from the staurdie. I asked her, how many
chauvies she had? “Twelve, sir.” Were any of them chors? “None, sir.” Two of her chauvies were in her
hand, weeping bitterly. The woman was in great distress, and when she heard the sound of her own
language, she thought she saw a friend. I informed one of the magistrates, whom I knew, that the
prisoners were Gipsies; and proposed to him to mitigate the punishment of the woman’s husband, on
condition of his giving me a specimen of his secret speech. But the reply of the man of authority was,
“The scoundrel shall lie in prison till the last hour of his sentence.” The “scoundrel” however, did not
remain in durance so long. While the jailer was securing him in prison, the determined Tinkler, with the
utmost coolness and indifference, asked him, which part of the jail would be the easiest for him to
break through. The jailer told him that, if he attempted to escape, the watchman, stationed in the
church-yard, close to the prison, would shoot him. On visiting the prison next morning, the turnkey
found that the Gipsy had undone the locks of the doors, and fled during the night. O’Reilly, the other
Gipsy, remained, in a separate cell, the whole period of his sentence. When the officers were completing
the other part of his punishment—“banishing him from the town”—the regardless, light-hearted Irish
Tinkler went capering along the streets, with his coat off, brandishing, and sweeping, and twirling his
shillalah, in the Gipsy fashion. Meeting, in this excited state, his late judge, the Tinkler, with the utmost
contempt and derision, called out to him, “Plase your honour! won’t you now take a fight with me, for
the sake of friendship?” This worthy Irish Gipsy represented himself as the head Tinkler in Perth, and
the first of the second class of boxers.
On another occasion, I observed a horde of Gipsies on the high street of Inverkeithing, employed in
making spoons from horn. I spoke to one of the young married men, partly in Scottish Gipsy words,
when he immediately answered me in English. He said they were all natives of Ireland. They had, male
and female, the Irish accent completely. I invited this man to accompany me to a public-house, that I
might obtain from him a specimen of his Irish Gipsy language. The town-clerk being in my company at
the time, I asked him to go with me, to hear what passed; but he refused, evidently because he
considered that the company of a Gipsy would contaminate and degrade him. I treated the Tinkler with
a glass of spirits, and obtained from him the following words:

Yaik, one.
Duie, two.
Trin, three.
Punch, five.
Saus, six.
Luften, eight.
Sonnakie, gold.
Roug, silver.
Vanister, ring.
Rat, night.
Cham, the moon.
Borlan, the sun.
Yak, fire.
Chowrie, knife.
 Bar, stone.
Shuha, coat.
Roy, spoon.
Chauvie, child.
Gaugie, man.
Mort and kinshen, wife and child.
Klistie, soldier.
Ruffie lee ma, devil miss me.
Nasher, deserter.
Daw-douglars, hand-cuffs.
Staurdie, prison.
Lodie, lodgings.
Vile, town.
Yak, eye.
Deekers, eyes.
Shir, head.
Test, head.
Nak, nose.
Mooie, mouth.
Meffemel, hand.
Grye, horse.
Aizel, ass.
Dugal, dog.
Bakra, sheep.
Ruffie, devil.
Bing, devil.
Feck, take.
Ruffie feck ma, devil take me.
Nawken, Tinkler.
Baurie-dews, Nawken, good-day, Tinkler.

This man conducted himself very politely, his behaviour being very correct and becoming; and he
seemed much pleased at being noticed, and kindly treated. At first, he spoke wholly in the Gipsy
language, thinking that I was as well acquainted with it as himself. But when he found that I knew only
a few words of it, he, like all his tribe, stopped in his communications, and, in this instance, began to
quiz and laugh at my ignorance. On returning to the street, I repeated some of the words to one of the
females. She laughed, and, with much good humour, said, “You will put me out, by speaking to me in
that language.”
These facts prove that the Irish Gipsies have the same language as those in Scotland. The English Gipsy
is substantially the same. There are a great many Irish Gipsies travelling in Scotland, of whom I will
again speak, in the following chapter. They are not easily distinguished from common Irish peasants,
except that they are generally employed in some sort of traffic, such as hawking earthen-ware, trinkets,
and various other trifles, through the country.
It may interest the reader to know how the idea originated that the Gipsies, at all events their speech,
came, or was thought to have come, from Hindostan. According to Grellmann, it was in this way:
“The following is an article to be found in the Vienna Gazette, from a Captain Szekely, who was thinking
of searching for (the origin of) the Gipsies, and their language, in the East Indies: In the year 1763, on
the 6th of November, a printer, whose name was Stephen Pap Szathmar Nemethi, came to see me.
Talking upon various subjects, we at last fell upon that of the Gipsies; and my guest related to me the
following anecdote, from the mouth of a preacher of the Reformed Church, Stephen Vali, at Almasch.
When the said Vali studied at the University of Leyden, he was intimately acquainted with some young
Malabars, of whom three are obliged constantly to study there; nor can they return home till relieved by
three others. Having observed that their native language bore a great affinity to that spoken by the
Gipsies, he availed himself of the opportunity to note down from themselves upwards of one thousand
words, together with their significations. After Vali was returned from the University, he informed
himself of the Raber Gipsies, concerning the meaning of his Malabar words, which they explained
without trouble or hesitation.”[216]
None of the Scottish Gipsy words have as yet, I believe, been collated with the Hindostanee, the
supposed mother tongue of the Gipsies.[217] I showed my list to a gentleman lately from India, who, at
first sight, pointed out, from among several hundred words and sentences scattered through these
pages, about thirty-nine which very closely resembled Hindostanee. But in ascertaining the origin of the
Gipsies, the traveller, Dr. Bright, thinks it would be desirable to procure some of the speech of the
lowest classes in India, and compare it with the Gipsy, as spoken in Europe; for the purpose of showing,
more correctly, the affinity of the two languages. He supposes, as I understand him, that the terms
used by the despised and unlettered Gipsies would probably resemble more closely the vulgar idiom of
the lowest castes in India, than the Hindostanee spoken by the higher ranks, or that which is to be
found in books. The following facts show that Dr. Bright’s conjectures are not far from the truth.
I had occasion at one time to be on board of a vessel lying in the harbour of Limekilns, Fifeshire, where
I observed a black man, acting as cook, of the name of John Lobbs, about twenty-five years of age, and
a native of Bombay, who could neither read nor write any language whatever. He stated that he was
now a Christian, and had been baptized by the name of John. He had been absent from India three
years, as cabin boy, in several British vessels, and spoke English well. He appeared to be of a low caste
in his native land, but sharpened by his contact with Europeans. Recollecting Dr. Bright’s hint, it
occurred to me that this Hindoo’s vulgar dialect might resemble the language of our Scottish Gipsies. I
repeated to him about one hundred and eighty Gipsy words and expressions. The greater part were
familiar to his ear, but many of them that meant one thing in Gipsy, had quite a different signification in
his speech. I shall, however, give the following Gipsy words, with the corresponding words of Lobb’s
language, and the English opposite.[218]
SCOTTISH GIPSY. JOHN LOBBS’ HINDOSTANEE. ENGLISH.
Baurie, great, grand, rich. Bura, Grand, good, great, rich.
Been, great, grand, rich. Beenie, Grand, good, great, rich.
Callo, Kala, Black.
Lon, Loon, Salt.
Gourie, a man. Gowra, White man.
Gaugie, a man. Gaugie, or Fraugie, Rich man.
Mort, a wife. Murgia, Dead wife.
Chavo, Chokna, A boy, a son.
Praw, Praw, Son.
Prawl, Prawl, Daughter.
Nais-gaugie, grandfather. Nais gaugie, Old man.
Nais-mort, grandmother. Nais mort, Old woman.
Riah, Riah, A chief, a gentleman.
Rajah, a chief, governor, Rajah, A chief, a lord.
Raunie, lady, wife of a gentleman. Raunie, The wife of a prince.
Been riah, Beenie riah, The king.
Been raunie, Beenie raunie, The queen.
Been gourie, Beenie gourie, A gentleman.
Bauree rajah, Bura rajah, The king.
Baurie raunie, Bura raunie, The queen.
Baurie forest, Bura frost, bura malook, Great town.
Baurie paunie, Bura paunie, The sea, the great water.
Lon paunie, Loon paunie, Salt water, the ocean.
Grye, Ghora, Horse.
Prancie, a horse. Prawncie, A gentleman’s carriage.
Gournie, Goroo, A cow.
Backra, Buckra, A sheep.
Sherro, Sir, Head.
Yak, Aukh, Eye.
Yaka, Aukha, Eyes.
Nak, Nak, Nose.
Mooie, Mooih, Mouth.
Chee, Jeebh, The tongue.
Chee chee, Choopra, Hold your tongue.
Femmel, hand. Fingal, Ends of the fingers.
Vast, Wast, The hand.
Peerie, Peir, The foot.
Gave, Gaw, Village.
Kair, Gur, A house.
Wautheriz, Waudrie, A bed.
Outhrie, a window. Outrie, Durvaja, A door.
Eegees, bed clothes. Eegees, Bed curtains.
Shuch-hamie, Shuamie, A waistcoat.
Jair-dah, Jairda, Woman’s apron.
Gawd, Dowglaw, A man’s shirt.
Teeyakas, Teeyaka, Shoes.
Scaf, a hat. Scaf, a small piece of cloth tied around the head, like a fillet.
Skews, Skows, Platters, jugs.
Chowrie, Choree, Knife.
Harro, Dhoro, Sword.
Sauster, iron. Sauspoon, Iron pot-lid, iron.
Mass, Mass, Flesh.
Thood, Doodh, Milk.
Chizcazin, cheese. Chizcaizim, Cheese-knife.
Blaw, meal. Blaw, Indian corn.
Flatrin, Flatrin, Fish of any kind.
Shaucha, broth Shoorwa, Soup.
Molzie, Mool, Wine.
Romanie, whiskey. Rominie, Spirits, liquor.
Mumlie, a candle. Membootie, Candles.
Fluffan, Floofan, Smoking tobacco.
Yak, Ag, Fire.
Paunie, Paunie, Water.
Casties, Cashtes, Fruit trees.
Bar, Dunbar, A stone.
Sonnakie, Sona, Gold.
Roug, Roopa, Silver.
Chinda, silver. Chindee, Silver, tin.
Geeve, Guing, Wheat.
Mang, Chan, Jung, The moon.
Bumie, Boomie, To drink.
Mar, Marna, To strike.
Rauge, Rawd, Mad.
Choar, Chorna, To steal.
Chor, Chor, Thief.
Humff, Huff, Give me.
Moolie, death, to die, dead. Moola, Dead.
Quad, Quid, Prison.
Staurdie, prison. Staurdee, A prison, to confine, hold.
Jaw vree, Jowa, Go away.
Auvie, Aow, Coming, come here.
Davies, Din, Day.
Rat, Raut, Night.
Pagrin, Pawgrin, To break.
Davies-pagrin, Dawis-pawgrin, Day-break, the morning.
Klistie, a soldier. Kleestie, Black soldier, Sepoy.
Nash, deserter. Natch, To run away.
Loudnie, Loonie, A bad woman.[219]

My informant understood, he said, two of the dialects of Hindostan, the one called the Hindoo, and the
other the Moors’ language. The former, he said, the English in India generally spoke, but understood
little of the latter; and that he himself did not know a word of the language of the Brahmins. When he
failed to produce, in the Moors’ language, the word corresponding to the Gipsy one, he frequently found
it in what he called the Hindoo speech. The greater part of the Gipsy words, as I have already
mentioned, were familiar to his ear; but many of them that signified one thing in his speech, meant
quite another in Gipsy. For example, the word Graunagie, in Gipsy, signifies a barn; with Lobbs, it meant
an old rich man. Coories, bed clothes or blankets, signified, in Lobbs’ dialect, ornaments for the ears.
Dill, a servant maid, according to Lobbs, was a church. Shan davies, a bad day, was the Hindostanee for
holiday. Managie, a woman, signifies the name of a person, such as John or James. Chavo, a son,
meant a female child; and Pooklie, hulled barley, anything fine. The two Gipsy words Callo and Rat are
black and night; but, according to Lobbs, Callorat is simply anything dark.[220]
To confirm my collection of Scottish Gipsy words, I will collate some of those which I sent to Sir Walter
Scott, for examination but not for publication, with those to be found in Mr. Baird’s report, a publication
which I first saw in 1842.
SCOTTISH GIPSY. YETHOLM GIPSY. ENGLISH.
Gaugie, Gadgé, Man.
Managie, Manishee, Woman.
Mort, Wife.
Chavo, (chauvies, children,) Shavies, children, Son.
Praw, Gouré a boy, Son.
Prawl, Racklé, a girl, Daughter.
Riah, Rai, a gentleman, A chief.
Rajah, Governor.
Baurie, Baré, Good.
Sherro, Shero, Head.
Yak, Yack, Eye.
Yaka, Eyes.
Nak, Nak, Nose.
Mooie, Moi, Mouth.
Vast, Vastie, Hand.
Grye, Grāī, Horse.
Bashanie, Basné, Cock.
 Caunie, Kanné, Hen.
Drom, Drone, Road.
Gave, Gaave, Village.
Graunagie, Barn.
Graunzie, Gransé, Barn.
Kair, Keir, House.
Outhrie, Window.
Yag, Yag, Fire.
Thood, Thud, Milk.
Mass, Mass, Flesh.
Peerie, (or blawkie,) Blakie, Pot.
Paunie, Pawné, Water.
Paurie, Water.
Molzie, Mul, Wine.
Roy, Roy, Spoon.
Nab, Horn.
Chorie, Knife.
Chowrie, Chouré, Knife.
Shuha, Shohé, Coat.
Scaf, (or gogle,) Gogel, Hat.
Harro, Sword.
Beerie, Ship.
Bumie, Peevan, drinking, To drink.
Choar, To steal.
Chor, Tschor, Thief.
Staurdie, Stardé, a jail, Prison.
Moolie, Moulian, dying, Death.
Moolie, Moulé, to kill, I’ll kill you.
Bing, Bing, The devil.

The following Scottish Gipsy words appear to have some relation to the Sanscrit:
SCOTTISH GIPSY. SANSCRIT. ENGLISH.
Yag, Agnish, Fire.
Paurie, Varni, Water.
Casties, Cashth, Wood.
Duff, Dhupah, Smoke.
Sneepa, Sweta, White.
Callo, Cala, Black.
Sherro, Sira, The head.
Rajah, Rajah, Lord.
Vast, Hastah, The hand.
Praw, Putra, Son.
Gave, or Gan, Gramam, A village.
Mar, Mar, To strike.
Loudnie, Lodha, loved, A whore.

In order to show the relationship of the language of the Gipsies in Scotland, England, Germany,
Hungary, Spain, and Turkey, and the affinity between it and the Persian, Hindostanee, Sanscrit, Pali, and
Kawi, I append a table containing the first ten numerals in all these tongues:
 TABLE OF THE FIRST TEN NUMERALS IN VARIOUS GIPSY DIALECTS, COMPARED WITH THOSE IN OT
ORIENTAL LANGUAGES.

Scottish Hunga- Hunga- Vulgar

English German Turkish Spanish
Gipsy. rian rian Persian. Hin- Sanscrit. Sanscrit. Pali.
Gipsy. Gipsy. Gipsy. Gipsy.
English. Gipsy. Gipsy. dostanee.
Grell- John
W. S. Hoyland. Bright. Borrow. Hoyl’d. Borrow. Borrow. Polock. Borrow. Polock.
mann. Lobbs.
One Yaik Aick Ick, Ek Jeg Jek Yeck Yeque Ek Yek Eka Ega Ekka
Two Duie Dooce Duj, Doj Dui Dui Duy Dui Du Doh Dui Dvaya Di
Three Trin Trin Trin, Tri Tri Trin Trin Trin Se Tin Tri Treya Tri
Shtar, Schtar,
Four Tor { Staur Star
Stah Schtar Shtiar Estar Chehar Char Chater Tschatvar Chatwa
Punch, Pantsch,
Five
Fo
Panji { Pansch Paunch Pansch Panch Pansche Pansch Paunsh Pancha Pantscha Pancha
Tschowe,
Six Shaigh Shove { Schow, Schof Tschov Shove Job, Zoi Schesche Shaiah Shat Schasda Cho
Sof
Seven Naivairn Heftan Efta Epta Efta Efta Hefta Heft Saut Sapta Sapta Sap
[221]
Naigh,
Eight { Luften ... Ochto Opto Ochto Okto Otor Hescht Aut Ashta Aschta At-tha
Nine Line Henya Enja, Eija Ennia Enija Enia Esnia Nu Nong Nava Nava Nowa
Ten Nay Desh Desch, Desh Dōsch Desh Deque De Dest Dasa Dascha Thotsa
Des

That the Gipsy language, in Scotland, is intermixed with cant, or slang, and other words, is certain, as
will appear by the specimens I have exhibited.[222] I am inclined to believe, however, that were the cant
and slang used by our flash men and others carefully examined, much of it would turn out to be
corrupted Hindostanee, picked up from the Gipsies. I have, after considerable trouble, produced, and, I
may venture to say, faithfully recorded, the raw materials as I found them: to separate the other words
from the original and genuine Gipsy, is a task I leave to the learned philologist. I shall only observe, that
the way in which the Gipsy language has been corrupted is this: That whenever the Gipsies find words
not understood by the people among whom they travel, they commit such to memory, and use them in
their conversation, for the purpose of concealment. In the Lowlands of Scotland, for example, they
make use of Gaelic,[223] Welsh, Irish, and French words. These picked-up words and terms have, in the
end, become part of their own peculiar tongue; yet some of the Gipsies are able to point out a number
of these foreign words, as distinguished from their own. In this manner do the Gipsies carry along with
them part of the language of every country through which they pass.[224]
In concluding my account of the Scottish Gipsy language, I may observe, that I think few who have
perused my details will hesitate for a moment in pronouncing that the people have migrated from
Hindostan. Many convincing proofs of the origin of the race have been adduced by Grellmann, Hoyland,
and Bright; and I think that my researches, made in Scotland alone, have confirmed the statements of
these respectable authors.
The question which now remains to be solved is this: From what tribe or nation at present in, or
originally from, Hindostan are the Gipsies descended? That they have been a robber or predatory
nation, from principle as well as practice, I am convinced little doubt can be entertained. Even yet, the
greater the art and address displayed in committing a dexterous theft or robbery, the higher is the merit
of such an action esteemed among their fraternity. I am also convinced that this general, or national,
propensity to plunder has been the chief cause of the Gipsies concealing their origin, language,
customs, and religious observances, at the time they entered the territories of civilized nations, and up
to this time. The intelligent old Gipsy, whose acquaintance I made at St. Boswell’s, distinctly told me,
that his tribe were originally a nation of thieves and robbers; and it is quite natural to suppose that,
when they found theft and robbery punished with such severity, in civilized society, everything relating
to them would be kept a profound secret.
The tribe in India whose customs, manners, and habits have the greatest resemblance to those of the
Gipsies, are the Nuts, or Bazegurs; an account of which is to be found in the 7th volume of the Asiatic
Researches, page 451. In Blackwood’s Magazine we find the following paragraph relative to these Nuts,
or Bazegurs, which induces a belief that these people are a branch of the Gipsy nation, and a tribe of
the highest antiquity. They are even supposed to be the wild, aboriginal inhabitants of India.
“A lady of rank, who has resided some time in India, lately informed me that the Gipsies are to be found
there, in the same way as in England, and practise the same arts of posture-making and tumbling,
fortune-telling, stealing, and so forth. The Indian Gipsies are called Nuts, or Bazegurs, and they are
believed by many to be the remains of an aboriginal race, prior even to the Hindoos, and who have
never adopted the worship of Bramah. They are entirely different from the Parias, who are Hindoos that
have lost caste, and so become degraded.”
The Nuts, or Bazegurs, under the name of Decoits or Dukyts, are, it seems, guilty of frequently
sacrificing victims to the goddess Calie, under circumstances of horror and atrocity scarcely credible.
Now the old Gipsy, who gave me the particulars relative to the Gipsy sacrifice of the horse, stated that
sometimes both woman and horse were sacrificed, when the woman, by the action of the horse, was
found to have greatly offended.
In the ordinances of Menu, the Nuts, or Bazegurs, are called Nata. Now, our Scottish Gipsies, at this
moment, call themselves Nawkens, a word not very dissimilar in sound to Nata. When I have spoken to
them, in their own words, I have been asked, “Are you a nawken?” a word to which they attach the
meaning of a wanderer, or traveller—one who can do any sort of work for himself that may be required
in the world.
[189] Before considering this trait in the character of the Scottish Gipsies, it may interest
the reader to know that the same peculiarity obtains among those on the continent.

Of the Hungarian Gipsies, Grellmann writes: “It will be recollected, from the first, how great
a secret they make of their language, and how suspicious they appear when any person
wishes to learn a few words of it. Even if the Gipsy is not perverse, he is very inattentive,
and is consequently likely to answer some other rather than the true Gipsy word.”
Of the Hungarian Gipsies, Bright says: “No one, who has not had experience, can conceive
the difficulty of gaining intelligible information, from people so rude, upon the subject of
their language. If you ask for a word, they give you a whole sentence; and on asking a
second time, they give the sentence a totally different turn, or introduce some figure
altogether new. Thus it was with our Gipsy, who, at length, tired of our questions, prayed
most piteously to be released; which we granted him, only on condition of his returning in
the evening.”
Of the Spanish Gipsies, Mr. Borrow writes: “It is only by listening attentively to the speech
of the Gitanos, whilst discoursing among themselves, that an acquaintance with their
dialect can be formed, and by seizing upon all unknown words, as they fall in succession
from their lips. Nothing can be more useless and hopeless than the attempt to obtain
possession of their vocabulary, by enquiring of them how particular objects and ideas are
styled in the same; for, with the exception of the names of the most common things, they
are totally incapable, as a Spanish writer has observed, of yielding the required information;
owing to their great ignorance, the shortness of their memories, or, rather, the state of
bewilderment to which their minds are brought by any question which tends to bring their
reasoning faculties into action; though, not unfrequently, the very words which have been
in vain required of them will, a minute subsequently, proceed inadvertently from their
mouths.”
What has been said by the two last-named writers is very wide of the mark; Grellmann,
however, hits it exactly. The Gipsies have excellent memories. It is all they have to depend
on. If they had not good memories, how could they, at the present day, speak a word of
their language at all? The difficulty in question is down-right shuffling, and not a want of
memory on the part of the Gipsy. The present chapter will throw some light on the subject.
Even Mr. Borrow himself gives an ample refutation to his sweeping account of the Spanish
Gipsies, in regard to their language; for, in another part of his work, he says: “I recited the
Apostles’ Creed to the Gipsies, sentence by sentence, which they translated as I proceeded.
They exhibited the greatest eagerness and interest in their unwonted occupation, and
frequently broke into loud disputes as to the best rendering, many being offered at the
same time. I then read the translation aloud, whereupon they raised a shout of exultation,
and appeared not a little proud of the composition.” On this occasion, Mr. Borrow evidently
had the Gipsies in the right humour—that is, off their guard, excited, and much interested
in the subject. He says, in another place: “The language they speak among themselves,
and they are particularly anxious to keep others in ignorance of it.” As a general thing, they
seem to have been bored by people much above them in the scale of society; with whom,
their natural politeness, and expectations of money or other benefits, would naturally lead
them to do anything than give them that which it is inborn in their nature to keep to
themselves.—Ed.
[190] This opinion is confirmed by the fact that the Gipsies whom the Rev. Mr. Crabbe has
civilized will not now be seen among the others of the tribe, at his annual festival, at
Southampton. We have already seen, under the head of Continental Gipsies, that “those
who are gold-washers in Transylvania and the Banat have no intercourse with others of
their nation; nor do they like to be called Gipsies.”
[191] On the whole, however, our Scottish peasantry, in some districts, do not greatly
despise the Tinklers; at least not to the same extent as the inhabitants of some other
countries seem to do. When not involved in quarrels with the Gipsies, our country people,
with the exception of a considerable portion of the land-owners, were, and are even yet,
rather fond of the superior families of the nomadic class of these people, than otherwise.
[192] Their (the female’s) speech is as fluent, and their eyes as unabashed, in the presence
of royalty, as before those from whom they have nothing to hope or fear; the result of
which is, that most minds quail before them.—Borrow on the Spanish Gipsies.—Ed.
[193] This woman evidently mistook our author for a Gipsy gent, such as he is described at
page 169.—Ed.
[194] It would be well for the reader to consider what a Gipsy is, irrespective of the
language which he speaks; for the race comes before the speech which it uses. That will be
done fully in my Disquisition on the Gipsies. The language, considered in itself, however
interesting it may be, is a secondary consideration; it may ultimately disappear, while the
people who now speak it will remain.—Ed.
[195] The Gipsies are always afraid to say what they would do in such cases. Perhaps they
don’t know, but have only a general impression that the individual would “catch it;” or there
may be some old law on the subject. What Ruthven said of her’s being a desperate race is
true enough, and murderous too, among themselves as distinguished from the inhabitants
generally. Her remark was evidently part of that frightening policy which keeps the natives
from molesting the tribe. See page 44.—Ed.
[196] Ponqueville, in his travels, says that the Gipsies in the Levant have no words in their
language to express either God or the soul. Of ten words of the Greek Gipsy, given by him,
five of them are in use in Scotland.—Paris, 1820.
[The Gipsy for God, according to Grellmann, is Dewe, Dewel, Dewol, Dewla.]—Ed.
[197] Had a German listened a whole day to a Gipsy conversation, he would not have
understood a single expression.—Grellmann.
The dialect of the English Gipsies, though mixed with English, is tolerably pure, from the
fact of its being intelligible to the race in the centre of Russia.—Borrow.—Ed.
[198] This letter is interesting to the extent that it illustrates the amount of knowledge
possessed by the Scottish community, generally, regarding the subject of the Gipsies.—Ed.
[199] Sir Walter Scott was disposed to think that our Gipsy population was rather
exaggerated at five thousand souls; but when families such as the above mentioned are
taken into account—leaving alone those who may be classed as settled Gipsies—I am
convinced that their number is not over-estimated.
[Not being in possession of sufficient information on the subject of the Gipsies, the opinion
of Sir Walter Scott, on the point in question, amounted to nothing. See the Index, for Sir
Walter Scott’s ideas of the Scottish Gipsy population.—Ed.]
[200] In speaking of the more original kind of Gipsy, Grellmann says: “No Gipsy has ever
signalized himself in literature, notwithstanding many of them have partaken of the
instruction to be obtained at public schools. Their volatile disposition and unsteadiness will
not allow them to complete anything which requires perseverance or application. In the
midst of his career of learning, the recollection of his origin seizes him; he desires to return
to what he thinks a more happy manner of life; this solicitude encreases; he gives up all at
once, turns back again, and consigns over his knowledge to oblivion.”
There are too many circumstances surrounding such a Gipsy to remind him of his origin,
and arrest him in his career of learning: for his race never having been tolerated—that is,
no position ever having been assigned it, he feels as if he were a vagabond, if known or
openly avowed to the public as a member of the tribe. And this, in itself, is sufficient to
discourage such a Gipsy in every effort towards improvement.—Ed.
[201] On mentioning to Sir Walter Scott, when at Abbotsford, that the Gipsies were very
partial to Hughie the Græme, he caused his eldest daughter, afterwards Mrs. Lockhart, to
sing this ancient Border song, which she readily did, accompanying her voice with the harp.
We were, at the time, in the room which contained his old armour and other antiquities; to
which place he had asked me, after tea, to hear his daughter play on the harp. She sang
Hughie the Græme, in a plain, simple, unaffected manner, exactly in the style in which I
have heard the humble country-girls singing the same song, in the south of Scotland. Sir
Walter was much interested about the Gipsies; and when I repeated to him a short
sentence in their speech, he, with great feeling, exclaimed, “Poor things! do you hear that?”
This was the first time, I believe, that he ever heard a Scottish Gipsy word pronounced. It
appeared to me that the mind of the great magician was not wholly divested of the fear
that the Gipsies might, in some way or other, injure his young plantations.
[202] See pages 58 and 65.—Ed.
[203] These sixteen farms embraced about 25,000 acres of mountainous land, maintained
13,000 sheep, 100 goats, 250 cattle, 50 horses, 20 draught-oxen, and 60 dogs; 29
shepherds, 26 other servants, and 15 cotters, making, with their families, 228 souls,
supported by my ancestor’s property, as that of a Scotch gentleman-farmer. On the farms
mentioned, which lay in Mid-Lothian, Tweed-dale, and Selkirkshire, the Gipsies were
allowed to remain as long as they pleased; and no loss was ever sustained by the
indulgence.

[204] I am convinced the Gipsies have a method of communicating with one another by
their hands and fingers, and it is likely this man tried me, in that way, both at the fair and in
his own house. I know a man who has seen the Gipsies communicating their thoughts to
each other in this way.
“Bargains among the Indians are conducted in the most profound silence, and by merely
touching each other’s hands. If the seller takes the whole hand, it implies a thousand
rupees or pagodas; five fingers import five hundred; one finger, one hundred; half a finger,
fifty; a single joint only ten. In this manner, they will often, in a crowded room, conclude
the most important transactions, without the company suspecting that anything whatever
was doing.”—Historical Account of Travels in Asia, by Hugh Murray.
“Method of the English selling their cargoes, at Jedda, to the Turks: Two Indian brokers
come into the room to settle the price, one on the part of the Indian captain, the other on
that of the buyer or Turk. They are neither Mahommedans nor Christians, but have credit
with both. They sit down on the carpet, and take an Indian shawl, which they carry on their
shoulders like a napkin, and spread it over their hands. They talk, in the meantime,
indifferent conversation, of the arrival of ships from India, or of the news of the day, as if
they were employed in no serious business whatever. After about twenty minutes spent in
handling each other’s fingers, below the shawl, the bargain is concluded, say for nine ships,
without one word ever having been spoken on the subject, or pen or ink used in any shape
whatever.”—Bruce’s Travels.
[205] It is interesting to notice the reason for this old Gipsy chief being so backward in
giving our author some of his language. “He was ashamed to do it.” Pity it is that there
should be a man in Scotland, who, independent of personal character, should be ashamed
of such a thing. Then, see how the Gipsy woman, in our author’s house, said that “the
public would look upon her with horror and contempt, were it known she could speak the
Gipsy language.” And again, the two female Gipsies, who would rather allow themselves to
be murdered, than give the meaning of two Gipsy words to Sauchie colliers, for the reason
that “it would have exposed their tribe, and made themselves odious to the world.” And all
for knowing the Gipsy language!—which would be considered an accomplishment in
another person! What frightful tyranny! Mr. Borrow, as we will by and by see, says a great
deal about the law of Charles III, in regard to the prospects of the Spanish Gipsies. But
there is a law above any legislative enactment—the law of society, of one’s fellow-creatures
—which bears so hard upon the Gipsies; the despotism of caste. If Gipsies, in such humble
circumstances, are so afraid of being known to be Gipsies, we can form some idea of the
morbid sensitiveness of those in a higher sphere of life.
The innkeeper evidently thought himself in bad company, when our author asked him for
the Tinkler’s house, or that any intercourse with a Tinkler would contaminate and degrade
him. In this light, read an anecdote in the history of John Bunyan, who was one of the
same people, as I shall afterwards show. In applying for his release from Bedford jail, his
wife said to Justice Hale, “Moreover, my lord, I have four small children that cannot help
themselves, of which one is blind, and we have nothing to live upon but the charity of good
people.” Thereat, Justice Hale, looking very soberly on the matter, said, “Alas, poor
woman!” “What is his calling?” continued the judge. And some of the company, that stood
by, said, (evidently in interruption, and with a bitter sneer,) “A Tinker, my lord!” “Yes,”
replied Bunyan’s wife, “and because he is a Tinker, and a poor man, therefore he is
despised, and cannot have justice.” Noble woman! wife of a noble Gipsy! If the world
wishes to know who John Bunyan really was, it can find him depicted in our author’s visit to
this Scottish Gipsy family, where it can also learn the meaning of Bunyan, at a time when
Jews were legally excluded from England, taking so much trouble to ascertain whether he
was of that race, or not. From the present work generally, the world can learn the reason
why Bunyan said nothing of his ancestry and nationality, when giving an account of his own
history.—Ed.