languages generally termed
learned, being considered in any light
but accomplishments, but not so the possession of thieves' slang or
the
dialect of the Gitanos, the knowledge of a few words of which
invariably creates a certain degree of respect, as indicating that
the individual is somewhat versed in that kind of life or TRATO for
which alone the Andalusians have any kind of regard.
In Andalusia the Gitano has been
studied by those who, for various
reasons, have mingled with the Gitanos. It is tolerably well
understood by the chalans, or jockeys, who have picked up many
words in the fairs and market-places which the former
frequent. It
has, however, been
cultivated to a greater degree by other
individuals, who have sought the society of the Gitanos from a zest
for their habits, their dances, and their songs; and such
individuals have belonged to all classes,
amongst them have been
noblemen and members of the priestly order.
Perhaps no people in Andalusia have been more addicted in general
to the
acquaintance of the Gitanos than the friars, and pre-
eminently
amongst these the half-jockey half-religious personages
of the Cartujan
convent at Xeres. This
community, now suppressed,
was, as is well known, in possession of a
celebrated breed of
horses, which fed in the pastures of the
convent, and from which
they derived no inconsiderable part of their
revenue. These
reverend gentlemen seem to have been much better versed in the
points of a horse than in points of
theology, and to have
understood thieves' slang and Gitano far better than the language
of the Vulgate. A chalan, who had some knowledge of the Gitano,
related to me the following
singularanecdote in
connection with
this subject.
He had occasion to go to the
convent, having been long in treaty
with the friars for a steed which he had been commissioned by a
nobleman to buy at any
reasonable price. The friars, however, were
exorbitant in their demands. On arriving at the gate, he sang to
the friar who opened it a couplet which he had
composed in the
Gypsy tongue, in which he stated the highest price which he was
authorised to give for the animal in question;
whereupon the friar
instantly answered in the same tongue in an extemporary couplet
full of abuse of him and his
employer, and
forthwith slammed the
door in the face of the disconcerted jockey.
An Augustine friar of Seville, called, we believe, Father Manso,
who lived some twenty years ago, is still remembered for his
passion for the Gitanos; he seemed to be under the influence of
fascination, and passed every moment that he could steal from his
clerical occupations in their company. His conduct at last became
so
notorious that he fell under the
censure of the Inquisition,
before which he was summoned;
whereupon he alleged, in his defence,
that his sole
motive for following the Gitanos was zeal for their
spiritual
conversion. Whether this plea availed him we know not;
but it is
probable that the Holy Office dealt
mildly with him; such
offenders, indeed, have never had much to fear from it. Had he
been accused of liberalism, or searching into the Scriptures,
instead of
connection with the Gitanos, we should,
doubtless, have
heard either of his
execution or
imprisonment for life in the cells
of the
cathedral of Seville.
Such as are thus addicted to the Gitanos and their language, are
called, in Andalusia, Los del' Aficion, or those of the
predilection. These people have, during the last fifty years,
composed a spurious kind of Gypsy
literature: we call it spurious
because it did not
originate with the Gitanos, who are, moreover,
utterly unacquainted with it, and to whom it would be for the most
part unintelligible. It is somewhat difficult to
conceive the
reason which induced these individuals to attempt such
compositions; the only
probable one seems to have been a desire to
display to each other their skill in the language of their
predilection. It is right, however, to observe, that most of these
compositions, with respect to language, are highly
absurd, the
greatest liberties being taken with the words picked up
amongst the
Gitanos, of the true meaning of which the writers, in many
instances, seem to have been entirely
ignorant. From what we can
learn, the composers of this
literature flourished
chiefly at the
commencement of the present century: Father Manso is said to have
been one of the last. Many of their compositions, which are both
in
poetry and prose, exist in
manuscript in a compilation made by
one Luis Lobo. It has never been our fortune to see this
compilation, which, indeed, we scarcely regret, as a rather curious
circumstance has afforded us a perfect knowledge of its contents.
Whilst at Seville, chance made us acquainted with a highly
extraordinary individual, a tall, bony, meagre figure, in a
tattered Andalusian hat,
ragged capote, and still more
raggedpantaloons, and
seemingly between forty and fifty years of age.
The only appellation to which he answered was Manuel. His
occupation, at the time we knew him, was selling tickets for the
lottery, by which he
obtained a
miserablelivelihood in Seville and
the neighbouring villages. His appearance was
altogether wild and
uncouth, and there was an
insane expression in his eye. Observing
us one day in conversation with a Gitana, he addressed us, and we
soon found that the sound of the Gitano language had struck a chord
which vibrated through the depths of his soul. His history was
remarkable; in his early youth a
manuscript copy of the compilation
of Luis Lobo had fallen into his hands. This book had so taken
hold of his
imagination, that he
studied it night and day until he
had planted it in his memory from
beginning to end; but in so
doing, his brain, like that of the hero of Cervantes, had become
dry and heated, so that he was unfitted for any serious or useful
occupation. After the death of his parents he wandered about the
streets in great
distress, until at last he fell into the hands of
certain toreros, or bull-fighters, who kept him about them, in
order that he might repeat to them the songs of the AFICION. They
subsequently carried him to Madrid, where, however, they soon
deserted him after he had
experienced much brutality from their
hands. He returned to Seville, and soon became the
inmate of a
madhouse, where he continued several years. Having partially
recovered from his
malady, he was liberated, and wandered about as
before. During the
cholera at Seville, when nearly twenty thousand
human beings perished, he was appointed
conductor of one of the
death-carts, which went through the streets for the purpose of
picking up the dead bodies. His perfect inoffensiveness eventually
procured him friends, and he
obtained the situation of vendor of
lottery tickets. He
frequently visited us, and would then recite
long passages from the work of Lobo. He was wont to say that he
was the only one in Seville, at the present day, acquainted with
the language of the Aficion; for though there were many pretenders,
their knowledge was confined to a few words.
From the recitation of this individual, we wrote down the
Brijindope, or Deluge, and the poem on the
plague which broke out
in Seville in the year 1800. These and some songs of less
consequence,
constitute the
poetical part of the compilation in
question; the rest, which is in prose, consisting
chiefly of
translations from the Spanish, of proverbs and religious pieces.
BRIJINDOPE. - THE DELUGE (65)
A POEM: IN TWO PARTS
PART THE FIRST
I with fear and
terror quake,
Whilst the pen to write I take;
I will utter many a pray'r
To the heaven's Regent fair,
That she deign to succour me,
And I'll
humbly bend my knee;
For but
poorly do I know
With my subject on to go;