Chapter XXIX: Part THE SECOND (2)

The Germania of Spain may be said to divide itself into two dialects, the ancient and modern. Of the former there exists a vocabulary, published first by Juan Hidalgo, in the year 1609, at Barcelona, and reprinted in Madrid, 1773. Before noticing this work, it will perhaps be advisable to endeavour to ascertain the true etymology of the word Germania, which signifies the slang vocabulary, or robber language of Spain. We have no intention to embarrass our readers by offering various conjectures respecting its origin; its sound, coupled with its signification, affording sufficient evidence that it is but a corruption of Rommany, which properly denotes the speech of the Roma or Gitános. The thieves who from time to time associated with this wandering people, and acquired more or less of their language, doubtless adopted this term amongst others, and, after modifying it, applied it to the peculiar phraseology which, in the course of time, became prevalent amongst them. The dictionary of Hidalgo is appended to six ballads, or romances, by the same author, written in the Germanian dialect, in which he describes the robber life at Seville at the period in which he lived. All of these romances possess their peculiar merit, and will doubtless always be considered valuable, and be read as faithful pictures of scenes and habits which now no longer exist. In the prologue, the author states that his principal motive for publishing a work written in so strange a language was his observing the damage which resulted from an ignorance of the Germania, especially to the judges and ministers of justice, whose charge it is to cleanse the public from the pernicious gentry who use it. By far the greatest part of the vocabulary consists of Spanish words used allegorically, which are, however, intermingled with many others, most of which may be traced to the Latin and Italian, others to the Sanscrit or Gitáno, Russian, Arabic, Turkish, Greek, and German languages. {348} The circumstances of words belonging to some of the languages last enumerated being found in the Gitáno, which at first may strike the reader as singular, and almost incredible, will afford but slight surprise, when he takes into consideration the peculiar circumstances of Spain during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Spain was at that period the most powerful monarchy in Europe; her foot reposed upon the Low Countries, whilst her gigantic arms embraced a considerable portion of Italy. Maintaining always a standing army in Flanders and in Italy, it followed as a natural consequence, that her Miquelets and soldiers became tolerably conversant with the languages of those countries; and, in course of time, returning to their native land, not a few, especially of the former class, a brave and intrepid, but always a lawless and dissolute species of soldiery, either fell in or returned to evil society, and introduced words which they had learnt abroad into the robber phraseology; whilst returned galley-slaves from Algiers, Tunis, and Tetuan, added to its motley variety of words from the relics of the broken Arabic and Turkish, which they had acquired during their captivity. The greater part of the Germania, however, remained strictly metaphorical, and we are aware of no better means of conveying an idea of the principle on which it is formed, than by quoting from the first romance of Hidalgo, where particular mention is made of this jargon:—

‘A la cama llama Blanda
Donde Sornan en poblado
A la Fresada Vellosa,
Que mucho vello ha criado.
Dice á la sabana Alba
Porque es alba en sumo grado,
A la camisa Carona,
Al jubon llama apretado:
Dice al Sayo Tapador
Porque le lleva tapado.
Llama á los zapatos Duros,
Que las piedras van pisando.
A la capa llama nuve,
Dice al Sombrero Texado.
Respeto llama á la Espada,
Que por ella es respetado,’ etc. etc.

HIDALGO, p. 22–3.

After these few remarks on the ancient Germania of Spain, we now proceed to the modern, which differs considerably from the former. The principal cause of this difference is to be attributed to the adoption by the Spanish outlaws, in latter years, of a considerable number of words belonging to, or modified from, the Rommany, or language of the Gitános. The Gitános of Spain, during the last half-century, having, in a great degree, abandoned the wandering habit of life which once constituted one of their most remarkable peculiarities, and residing, at present, more in the cities than in the fields, have come into closer contact with the great body of the Spanish nation than was in former days their practice. From their living thus in towns, their language has not only undergone much corruption, but has become, to a slight degree, known to the dregs of society, amongst whom they reside. The thieves’ dialect of the present day exhibits, therefore, less of the allegorical language preserved in the pages of Hidalgo than of the Gypsy tongue. It must be remarked, however, that it is very scanty, and that the whole robber phraseology at present used in Spain barely amounts to two hundred words, which are utterly insufficient to express the very limited ideas of the outcasts who avail themselves of it.

Concerning the Germania of France, or ‘Argot,’ as it is called, it is unnecessary to make many observations, as what has been said of the language of Hidalgo and the Red Italian is almost in every respect applicable to it. As early as the middle of the sixteenth century a vocabulary of this jargon was published under the title of _Langue des Escrocs_, at Paris. Those who wish to study it as it at present exists can do no better than consult _Les Mémoires de Vidocq_, where a multitude of words in Argot are to be found, and also several songs, the subjects of which are thievish adventures.

The first vocabulary of the ‘Cant Language,’ or English Germania, appeared in the year 1680, appended to the life of _The English Rogue_, a work which, in many respects, resembles the _History of Guzman d’Alfaráche_, though it is written with considerably more genius than the Spanish novel, every chapter abounding with remarkable adventures of the robber whose life it pretends to narrate, and which are described with a kind of ferocious energy, which, if it do not charm the attention of the reader, at least enslaves it, holding it captive with a chain of iron. Amongst his other adventures, the hero falls in with a Gypsy encampment, is enrolled amongst the fraternity, and is allotted a ‘mort,’ or concubine; a barbarous festival ensues, at the conclusion of which an epithalamium is sung in the Gypsy language, as it is called in the work in question. Neither the epithalamium, however, nor the vocabulary, are written in the language of the English Gypsies, but in the ‘Cant,’ or allegorical robber dialect, which is sufficient proof that the writer, however well acquainted with thieves in general, their customs and manners of life, was in respect to the Gypsies profoundly ignorant. His vocabulary, however, has been always accepted as the speech of the English Gypsies, whereas it is at most entitled to be considered as the peculiar speech of the thieves and vagabonds of his time. The cant of the present day, which, though it differs in some respects from the vocabulary already mentioned, is radically the same, is used not only by the thieves in town and country, but by the jockeys of the racecourse and the pugilists of the ‘ring.’ As a specimen of the cant of England, we shall take the liberty of quoting the epithalamium to which we have above alluded:—

‘Bing out, bien morts, and tour and tour
Bing out, bien morts and tour;
For all your duds are bing’d awast,
The bien cove hath the loure. {351}

‘I met a dell, I viewed her well,
She was benship to my watch:
So she and I did stall and cloy
Whatever we could catch.

‘This doxy dell can cut ben whids,
And wap well for a win,
And prig and cloy so benshiply,
All daisy-ville within.

‘The hoyle was up, we had good luck,
In frost for and in snow;
Men they did seek, then we did creep
And plant the roughman’s low.’

It is scarcely necessary to say anything more upon the Germania in general or in particular; we believe that we have achieved the task which we marked out for ourselves, and have conveyed to our readers a clear and distinct idea of what it is. We have shown that it has been erroneously confounded with the Rommany, or Gitáno language, with which it has nevertheless some points of similarity. The two languages are, at the present day, used for the same purpose, namely, to enable habitual breakers of the law to carry on their consultations with more secrecy and privacy than by the ordinary means. Yet it must not be forgotten that the thieves’ jargon was invented for that purpose, whilst the Rommany, originally the proper and only speech of a particular nation, has been preserved from falling into entire disuse and oblivion, because adapted to answer the same end. It was impossible to treat of the Rommany in a manner calculated to exhaust the subject, and to leave no ground for future cavilling, without devoting a considerable space to the consideration of the robber dialect, on which account we hope we shall be excused many of the dry details which we have introduced into the present essay. There is a link of connection between the history of the Roma, or wanderers from Hindustan, who first made their appearance in Europe at the commencement of the fifteenth century, and that of modern roguery. Many of the arts which the Gypsies proudly call their own, and which were perhaps at one period peculiar to them, have become divulged, and are now practised by the thievish gentry who infest the various European states, a result which, we may assert with confidence, was brought about by the alliance of the Gypsies being eagerly sought on their first arrival by the thieves, who, at one period, were less skilful than the former in the ways of deceit and plunder; which kind of association continued and held good until the thieves had acquired all they wished to learn, when they left the Gypsies in the fields and plains, so dear to them from their vagabond and nomad habits, and returned to the towns and cities. Yet from this temporary association were produced two results; European fraud became sharpened by coming into contact with Asiatic craft, whilst European tongues, by imperceptible degrees, became recruited with various words (some of them wonderfully expressive), many of which have long been stumbling-stocks to the philologist, who, whilst stigmatising them as words of mere vulgar invention, or of unknown origin, has been far from dreaming that by a little more research he might have traced them to the Sclavonic, Persian, or Romaic, or perhaps to the mysterious object of his veneration, the Sanscrit, the sacred tongue of the palm-covered regions of Ind; words originally introduced into Europe by objects too miserable to occupy for a moment his lettered attention—the despised denizens of the tents of Roma.

ON THE TERM ‘BUSNO’

Those who have done me the honour to peruse this strange wandering book of mine, must frequently have noticed the word ‘Busno,’ a term bestowed by the Spanish Gypsy on his good friend the Spaniard. As the present will probably be the last occasion which I shall have to speak of the Gitános or anything relating to them, it will perhaps be advisable to explain the meaning of this word. In the vocabulary appended to former editions I have translated Busno by such words as Gentile, savage, person who is not a Gypsy, and have stated that it is probably connected with a certain Sanscrit noun signifying an impure person. It is, however, derived immediately from a Hungarian term, exceedingly common amongst the lower orders of the Magyars, to their disgrace be it spoken. The Hungarian Gypsies themselves not unfrequently style the Hungarians Busnoes, in ridicule of their unceasing use of the word in question. The first Gypsies who entered Spain doubtless brought with them the term from Hungary, the language of which country they probably understood to a certain extent. That it was not ill applied by them in Spain no one will be disposed to deny when told that it exactly corresponds with the Shibboleth of the Spaniards, ‘Carajo,’ an oath equally common in Spain as its equivalent in Hungary. Busno, therefore, in Spanish means _El del carajo_, or he who has that term continually in his mouth. The Hungarian words in Spanish Gypsy may amount to ten or twelve, a very inconsiderable number; but the Hungarian Gypsy tongue itself, as spoken at the present day, exhibits only a slight sprinkling of Hungarian words, whilst it contains many words borrowed from the Wallachian, some of which have found their way into Spain, and are in common use amongst the Gitános.

SPECIMENS OF GYPSY DIALECTS

THE ENGLISH DIALECT OF THE ROMMANY

‘TACHIPEN if I jaw ’doi, I can lel a bit of tan to hatch: N’etist I
shan’t puch kekomi wafu gorgies.’

The above sentence, dear reader, I heard from the mouth of Mr. Petulengro, the last time that he did me the honour to visit me at my poor house, which was the day after Mol-divvus {359}, 1842: he stayed with me during the greater part of the morning, discoursing on the affairs of Egypt, the aspect of which, he assured me, was becoming daily worse and worse. ‘There is no living for the poor people, brother,’ said he, ‘the chokengres (police) pursue us from place to place, and the gorgios are become either so poor or miserly, that they grudge our cattle a bite of grass by the wayside, and ourselves a yard of ground to light a fire upon. Unless times alter, brother, and of that I see no probability, unless you are made either poknees or mecralliskoe geiro (justice of the peace or prime minister), I am afraid the poor persons will have to give up wandering altogether, and then what will become of them?’

‘However, brother,’ he continued, in a more cheerful tone, ‘I am no hindity mush, {360a} as you well know. I suppose you have not forgot how, fifteen years ago, when you made horseshoes in the little dingle by the side of the great north road, I lent you fifty cottors {360b} to purchase the wonderful trotting cob of the innkeeper with the green Newmarket coat, which three days after you sold for two hundred.

‘Well, brother, if you had wanted the two hundred instead of the fifty, I could have lent them to you, and would have done so, for I knew you would not be long pazorrhus to me. I am no hindity mush, brother, no Irishman; I laid out the other day twenty pounds in buying ruponoe peamengries; {360c} and in the Chonggav, {360d} have a house of my own with a yard behind it.

‘_And_, _forsooth_, _if I go thither_, _I can choose a place to light
afire upon_, _and shall have no necessity to ask leave of these here
Gentiles_.’

Well, dear reader, this last is the translation of the Gypsy sentence which heads the chapter, and which is a very characteristic specimen of the general way of speaking of the English Gypsies.

The language, as they generally speak it, is a broken jargon, in which few of the grammatical peculiarities of the Rommany are to be distinguished. In fact, what has been said of the Spanish Gypsy dialect holds good with respect to the English as commonly spoken: yet the English dialect has in reality suffered much less than the Spanish, and still retains its original syntax to a certain extent, its peculiar manner of conjugating verbs, and declining nouns and pronouns.

ENGLISH DIALECT

Moro Dad, savo djives oteh drey o charos, te caumen Gorgio ta Romany
Chal tiro nav, te awel tiro tem, te kairen tiro lav aukko prey puv,
sar kairdios oteh drey o charos. Dey men to-divvus moro divvuskoe
moro, ta for-dey men pazorrhus tukey sar men for-denna len pazorrhus
amande; ma muk te petrenna drey caik temptacionos; ley men abri sor
doschder. Tiro se o tem, Mi-duvel, tiro o zoozlu vast, tiro sor
koskopen drey sor cheros. Avali. Ta-chipen.

SPANISH DIALECT

Batu monro sos socabas oté enré ye char, que camele Gacho ta Romani
Cha tiro nao, qu’abillele tiro chim, querese tiro lao acoi opré ye
puve sarta se querela oté enré ye char. Diñanos sejonia monro manro
de cata chibes, ta estormenanos monrias bisauras sasta mu
estormenamos a monrias bisabadores; na nos meques petrar enré cayque
pajandia, lillanos abri de saro chungalipen. Persos tiro sinela o
chim, Undevel, tiro ye silna bast, tiro saro lachipen enré saro
chiros. Unga. Chachipé.

_English Translation of the above_

Our Father who dwellest there in heaven, may Gentile and Gypsy love
thy name, thy kingdom come, may they do thy word here on earth as it
is done there in heaven. Give us to-day our daily bread, {361a} and
forgive us indebted to thee as we forgive them indebted to us, {361b}
suffer not that we fall into _no_ temptation, take us out from all
evil. {361c} Thine {361d} is the kingdom my God, thine the strong
hand, thine all goodness in all time. Aye. Truth.

HUNGARIAN DIALECT

The following short sentences in Hungarian Gypsy, in addition to the prayer to the Virgin given in the Introduction, will perhaps not prove unacceptable to the reader. In no part of the world is the Gypsy tongue at the present day spoken with more purity than in Hungary, {362} where it is used by the Gypsies not only when they wish to be unintelligible to the Hungarians, but in their common conversation amongst themselves.

From these sentences the reader, by the help of the translations which accompany them, may form a tolerable idea not only of what the Gypsy tongue is, but of the manner in which the Hungarian Gypsies think and express themselves. They are specimens of genuine Gypsy talk—sentences which I have myself heard proceed from the mouths of the Czigany; they are not Busno thoughts done into gentle Rommany. Some of them are given here as they were written down by me at the time, others as I have preserved them in my memory up to the present moment. It is not improbable that at some future time I may return to the subject of the Hungarian Gypsies.

Varé tava soskei me puchelas cai Much I ponder why you ask me soskei avillara catári. (questions), and why you should come hither. Mango le gulo Devlas vas o erai, I pray the sweet Goddess for the hodj o erai te pirel misto, te gentleman, that the gentleman may n’avel pascotia l’eras, ta na journey well, that misfortune avel o erai nasvalo. come not to the gentleman, and that the gentleman fall not sick. Cana cames aves pale. When you please come back. Ki’som dhes keral avel o rai How many days did the gentleman catari? {363a} take to come hither? Kit somu berschengro hal tu? How many years old are you? {363b} Cadé abri mai lachi e mol sar Here out better (is) the wine ando foro. than in the city. Sin o mas balichano, ta i gorkhe The meat is of pig, and the garasheskri; {363c} sin o manro gherkins cost a grosh—the bread parno, cai te felo do is white, and the lard costs two garashangro. groshen. Yeck quartalli mol ando lende. One quart of wine amongst us. Andé mol oté mestchibo. In wine there (is) happiness. Khava piava—dui shel, tri shel I will eat, I will drink—two predinava. hundred, three hundred I will place before. Damen Devla saschipo ando mure Give us Goddess health in our cocala. bones. Te rosarow labio tarraco le I will seek a waistcoat, which I Mujeskey miro pralesco, ta vela have, for Moses my brother, and I mi anao tukey le Mujeskey miro will change names with Moses my pralesky. brother. {363d} Llundun baro foro, bishwar mai London (is) a big city, twenty baro sar Cosvaro. times more big than Colosvar. Nani yag, mullas. There is no fire, it is dead. Nasiliom cai purdiom but; besh te I have suffered and toiled much: pansch bersch mi homas slugadhis twenty and five years I was pa Baron Splini regimentos. serving in Baron Splini’s regiment. Saro chiro cado Del; cavo o puro Every time (cometh) from God; diñas o Del. that old (age) God gave. Me camov te jav ando I wish to go unto Bukarest—from Buka-resti—cado Bukaresti lachico Bukarest, the good country, (it tem dur drom jin keri. is) a far way unto (my) house. Mi hom nasvallo. I am sick. Soskei nai jas ke baro ful-cheri? Why do you not go to the great physician Wei mangue ke nani man lové Because I have no money I can’t nastis jav. go Belgra sho mille pu cado Belgrade (is) six miles of land Cosvarri; hin oter miro chabo. from Colosvar; there is my son. Te vas Del l’erangue ke meclan May God help the gentlemen that man abri ando a pan-dibo. they let me out (from) in the prison. Opré rukh sarkhi ye chiriclo, ca On the tree (is) the nest of the kerel anre e chiricli. bird, where makes eggs the female bird. Ca hin tiro ker? Where is your house? Ando calo berkho, oter bin miro In the black mountain, there is ker, av prala mensar; jas mengue my house; come brother with me; keri. let us go to my house. Ando bersch dui chiro, ye ven, ta In the year (are) two seasons, nilei. the winter and summer. O felhegos del o breschino, te The cloud gives the rain, and purdel o barbal. puffs (forth) the wind. Hir mi Devlis camo but cavo By my God I love much that erai—lacho manus o, Anglus, tama gentleman—a good man he, an rakarel Ungarica; avel catari Englishman, but he speaks ando urdon le trin Hungarian; he came {364a} hither gras-tensas—beshel cate abri po in a waggon with three horses, he buklo tan; le poivasis ando bas sits here out in the wilderness; irinel ando lel. Bo zedun stadji {364b} with a pencil in his hand ta bari barba. he writes in a book. He has a green hat and a big beard.

VOCABULARY OF THEIR LANGUAGE

This section of the book could not be transcribed in 1997 as it contained many non-european languages and Gutenberg didn’t support Unicode then. It will be transcribed at some future point.—DP, August 2019.