The English Gipsies and Their Language | Page 8

of a Gipsy and a
well-to-do citizen. It has starved God out of the former; he inherited
unbelief from his half fed Pariah ancestors, and often retains it, even in
England, to this day, with many other unmistakable signs of his
Eastern- jackal origin. And strange as it may seem to you, reader, his
intercourse with Christians has all over Europe been so limited, that he
seldom really knows what religion is. The same Mr Liebich tells us that
one day he overheard a Gipsy disputing with his wife as to what was

the true character of the belief of the Gentiles. Both admitted that there
was a great elder grown up God (the baro puro dewel), and a smaller
younger God (the tikno tarno dewel). But the wife maintained,
appealing to Mr Liebich for confirmation, that the great God no longer
reigned, having abdicated in favour of the Son, while the husband
declared that the Great older God died long ago, and that the world was
now governed by the little God who was, however, not the son of his
predecessor, but of a poor carpenter.
I have never heard of any such nonsense among the English wandering
Gipsies with regard to Christianity, but at the same time I must admit
that their ideas of what the Bible contains are extremely vague. One
day I was sitting with an old Gipsy, discussing Rommany matters,
when he suddenly asked me what the word was in the waver temmeny
jib, or foreign Gipsy, for The Seven Stars.
"That would be," I said, "the Efta Sirnie. I suppose your name for it is
the Hefta Pens. There is a story that once they were seven sisters, but
one of them was lost, and so they are called seven to this day--though
there are only six. And their right name is the Pleiades."
"That gudlo--that story," replied the gipsy, "is like the one of the Seven
Whistlers, which you know is in the Scriptures."
"What!"
"At least they told me so; that the Seven Whistlers are seven spirits of
ladies who fly by night, high in the air, like birds. And it says in the
Bible that once on a time one got lost, and never came back again, and
now the six whistles to find her. But people calls 'em the Seven
Whistlers--though there are only six--exactly the same as in your story
of the stars."
"It's queer," resumed my Gipsy, after a pause, "how they always tells
these here stories by Sevens. Were you ever on Salisbury Plain?"
"No!"

"There are great stones there--bori bars--and many a night I've slept
there in the moonlight, in the open air, when I was a boy, and listened
to my father tellin' me about the Baker. For there's seven great stories,
and they say that hundreds of years ago a baker used to come with
loaves of bread, and waste it all a tryin' to make seven loaves remain at
the same place, one on each stone. But one all'us fell off, and to this
here day he's never yet been able to get all seven on the seven stones."
I think that my Gipsy told this story in connection with that of the
Whistlers, because he was under the impression that it also was of
Scriptural origin. It is, however, really curious that the Gipsy term for
an owlet is the Maromengro's Chavi, or Baker's Daughter, and that they
are all familiar with the monkish legend which declares that Jesus, in a
baker's shop, once asked for bread. The mistress was about to give him
a large cake, when her daughter declared it was too much, and
diminished the gift by one half.
"He nothing said, But by the fire laid down the bread, When lo, as
when a blossom blows-- To a vast loaf the manchet rose; In angry
wonder, standing by, The girl sent forth a wild, rude cry, And,
feathering fast into a fowl, Flew to the woods a wailing owl."
According to Eilert Sundt, who devoted his life to studying the Fanten
and Tataren, or vagabonds and Gipsies of Sweden and Norway, there
is a horrible and ghastly semblance among them of something like a
religion, current in Scandinavia. Once a year, by night, the Gipsies of
that country assemble for the purpose of un-baptizing all of their
children whom they have, during the year, suffered to be baptized for
the sake of gifts, by the Gorgios. On this occasion, amid wild orgies,
they worship a small idol, which is preserved until the next meeting
with the greatest secresy and care by their captain. I must declare that
this story seems very doubtful to me.
I have devoted this chapter to illustrating from different points the fact
that there lives in