The man and woman, with much noise, demanded their donkey; the innkeeper made no answer, and proceeded to fill up several gla.s.ses with the ANISADO. In about a quarter of an hour, the Gypsy hag returned with a young man, well dressed, and with a genteel air, but with something wild and singular in his eyes. He seated himself by the table, smiled, took a gla.s.s of liquor, drank part of it, smiled again, and handed it to the countryman. The latter seeing himself treated in this friendly manner by a caballero, was evidently much flattered, took off his hat to the newcomer, and drank, as did the woman also. The gla.s.s was filled, and refilled, till they became yet more intoxicated. I did not hear the young man say a word: he appeared a pa.s.sive automaton. The Gypsies, however, spoke for him, and were profuse of compliments. It was now proposed that the caballero should settle the dispute; a long and noisy conversation ensued, the young man looking vacantly on: the strange people had no money, and had already run up another bill at a wine-house to which they had retired. At last it was proposed, as if by the young man, that the Gypsy should purchase his own mule for two dollars, and forgive the strangers the reckoning of the preceding night. To this they agreed, being apparently stultified with the liquor, and the money being paid to them in the presence of witnesses, they thanked the friendly mediator, and reeled away.
Before they left the town that night, they had contrived to spend the entire two dollars, and the woman, who first recovered her senses, was bitterly lamenting that they had permitted themselves to be despoiled so cheaply of a PRENDA TAN PRECIOSA, as was the donkey. Upon the whole, however, I did not much pity them. The woman was certainly not the man"s wife. The labourer had probably left his village with some strolling harlot, bringing with him the animal which had previously served to support himself and family.
I believe that the Gypsy read, at the first glance, their history, and arranged matters accordingly. The donkey was soon once more in the stable, and that night there was much rejoicing in the Gypsy inn.
Who was the singular mediator? He was neither more nor less than the foster child of the Gypsy hag, the unfortunate being whom she had privately injured in his infancy. After having thus served them as an instrument in their villainy, he was told to go home. .
THE GYPSY SOLDIER OF VALDEPENAS
It was at Madrid one fine afternoon in the beginning of March 1838, that, as I was sitting behind my table in a cabinete, as it is called, of the third floor of No. 16, in the Calle de Santiago, having just taken my meal, my hostess entered and informed me that a military officer wished to speak to me, adding, in an undertone, that he looked a STRANGE GUEST. I was acquainted with no military officer in the Spanish service; but as at that time I expected daily to be arrested for having distributed the Bible, I thought that very possibly this officer might have been sent to perform that piece of duty. I instantly ordered him to be admitted, whereupon a thin active figure, somewhat above the middle height, dressed in a blue uniform, with a long sword hanging at his side, tripped into the room. Depositing his regimental hat on the ground, he drew a chair to the table, and seating himself, placed his elbows on the board, and supporting his face with his hands, confronted me, gazing steadfastly upon me, without uttering a word.
I looked no less wistfully at him, and was of the same opinion as my hostess, as to the strangeness of my guest. He was about fifty, with thin flaxen hair covering the sides of his head, which at the top was entirely bald. His eyes were small, and, like ferrets", red and fiery. His complexion like a brick, a dull red, checkered with spots of purple. "May I inquire your name and business, sir?"
I at length demanded.
STRANGER. - "My name is Chaleco of Valdepenas; in the time of the French I served as bragante, fighting for Ferdinand VII. I am now a captain on half-pay in the service of Donna Isabel; as for my business here, it is to speak with you. Do you know this book?"
MYSELF. - "This book is Saint Luke"s Gospel in the Gypsy language; how can this book concern you?"
STRANGER. - "No one more. It is in the language of my people."
MYSELF. - "You do not pretend to say that you are a Calo?"
STRANGER. - "I do! I am Zincalo, by the mother"s side. My father, it is true, was one of the Busne; but I glory in being a Calo, and care not to acknowledge other blood."
MYSELF. - "How became you possessed of that book?"
STRANGER. - "I was this morning in the Prado, where I met two women of our people, and amongst other things they told me that they had a gabicote in our language. I did not believe them at first, but they pulled it out, and I found their words true. They then spoke to me of yourself, and told me where you live, so I took the book from them and am come to see you."
MYSELF. - "Are you able to understand this book?"
STRANGER. - "Perfectly, though it is written in very crabbed language: (48) but I learnt to read Calo when very young. My mother was a good Calli, and early taught me both to speak and read it. She too had a gabicote, but not printed like this, and it treated of a different matter."
MYSELF. - "How came your mother, being a good Calli, to marry one of a different blood?"
STRANGER. - "It was no fault of hers; there was no remedy. In her infancy she lost her parents, who were executed; and she was abandoned by all, till my father, taking compa.s.sion on her, brought her up and educated her: at last he made her his wife, though three times her age. She, however, remembered her blood and hated my father, and taught me to hate him likewise, and avoid him. When a boy, I used to stroll about the plains, that I might not see my father; and my father would follow me and beg me to look upon him, and would ask me what I wanted; and I would reply, Father, the only thing I want is to see you dead."
MYSELF. - "That was strange language from a child to its parent."
STRANGER. - "It was - but you know the couplet, (49) which says, "I do not wish to be a lord - I am by birth a Gypsy - I do not wish to be a gentleman - I am content with being a Calo!""
MYSELF. - "I am anxious to hear more of your history - pray proceed."
STRANGER. - "When I was about twelve years old my father became distracted, and died. I then continued with my mother for some years; she loved me much, and procured a teacher to instruct me in Latin. At last she died, and then there was a pleyto (law-suit).
I took to the sierra and became a highwayman; but the wars broke out. My cousin Jara, of Valdepenas, raised a troop of brigantes.
(50) I enlisted with him and distinguished myself very much; there is scarcely a man or woman in Spain but has heard of Jara and Chaleco. I am now captain in the service of Donna Isabel - I am covered with wounds - I am - ugh! ugh! ugh - !"
He had commenced coughing, and in a manner which perfectly astounded me. I had heard hooping coughs, consumptive coughs, coughs caused by colds, and other accidents, but a cough so horrible and unnatural as that of the Gypsy soldier, I had never witnessed in the course of my travels. In a moment he was bent double, his frame writhed and laboured, the veins of his forehead were frightfully swollen, and his complexion became black as the blackest blood; he screamed, he snorted, he barked, and appeared to be on the point of suffocation - yet more explosive became the cough; and the people of the house, frightened, came running into the apartment. I cries, "The man is perishing, run instantly for a surgeon!" He heard me, and with a quick movement raised his left hand as if to countermand the order; another struggle, then one mighty throe, which seemed to search his deepest intestines; and he remained motionless, his head on his knee. The cough had left him, and within a minute or two he again looked up.
"That is a dreadful cough, friend," said I, when he was somewhat recovered. "How did you get it?"
GYPSY SOLDIER. - "I am - shot through the lungs - brother! Let me but take breath, and I will show you the hole - the agujero."
He continued with me a considerable time, and showed not the slightest disposition to depart; the cough returned twice, but not so violently; - at length, having an engagement, I arose, and apologising, told him I must leave him. The next day he came again at the same hour, but he found me not, as I was abroad dining with a friend. On the third day, however, as I was sitting down to dinner, in he walked, unannounced. I am rather hospitable than otherwise, so I cordially welcomed him, and requested him to partake of my meal. "Con mucho gusto," he replied, and instantly took his place at the table. I was again astonished, for if his cough was frightful, his appet.i.te was yet more so. He ate like a wolf of the sierra; - soup, puchero, fowl and bacon disappeared before him in a twinkling. I ordered in cold meat, which he presently despatched; a large piece of cheese was then produced.
We had been drinking water.
"Where is the wine?" said he.
"I never use it," I replied.
He looked blank. The hostess, however, who was present waiting, said, "If the gentleman wish for wine, I have a bota nearly full, which I will instantly fetch."
The skin bottle, when full, might contain about four quarts. She filled him a very large gla.s.s, and was removing the skin, but he prevented her, saying, "Leave it, my good woman; my brother here will settle with you for the little I shall use."
He now lighted his cigar, and it was evident that he had made good his quarters. On the former occasion I thought his behaviour sufficiently strange, but I liked it still less on the present.
Every fifteen minutes he emptied his gla.s.s, which contained at least a pint; his conversation became horrible. He related the atrocities which he had committed when a robber and bragante in La Mancha. "It was our custom," said he, "to tie our prisoners to the olive-trees, and then, putting our horses to full speed, to tilt at them with our spears." As he continued to drink he became waspish and quarrelsome: he had hitherto talked Castilian, but he would now only converse in Gypsy and in Latin, the last of which languages he spoke with great fluency, though ungrammatically. He told me that he had killed six men in duels; and, drawing his sword, fenced about the room. I saw by the manner in which he handled it, that he was master of his weapon. His cough did not return, and he said it seldom afflicted him when he dined well. He gave me to understand that he had received no pay for two years.
"Therefore you visit me," thought I. At the end of three hours, perceiving that he exhibited no signs of taking his departure, I arose, and said I must again leave him. "As you please, brother,"
said he; "use no ceremony with me, I am fatigued, and will wait a little while." I did not return till eleven at night, when my hostess informed me that he had just departed, promising to return next day. He had emptied the bota to the last drop, and the cheese produced being insufficient for him, he sent for an entire Dutch cheese on my account; part of which he had eaten and the rest carried away. I now saw that I had formed a most troublesome acquaintance, of whom it was highly necessary to rid myself, if possible; I therefore dined out for the next nine days.
For a week he came regularly at the usual hour, at the end of which time he desisted; the hostess was afraid of him, as she said that he was a brujo or wizard, and only spoke to him through the wicket.
On the tenth day I was cast into prison, where I continued several weeks. Once, during my confinement, he called at the house, and being informed of my mishap, drew his sword, and vowed with horrible imprecations to murder the prime minister of Ofalia, for having dared to imprison his brother. On my release, I did not revisit my lodgings for some days, but lived at an hotel. I returned late one afternoon, with my servant Francisco, a Basque of Hernani, who had served me with the utmost fidelity during my imprisonment, which he had voluntarily shared with me. The first person I saw on entering was the Gypsy soldier, seated by the table, whereon were several bottles of wine which he had ordered from the tavern, of course on my account. He was smoking, and looked savage and sullen; perhaps he was not much pleased with the reception he had experienced. He had forced himself in, and the woman of the house sat in a corner looking upon him with dread. I addressed him, but he would scarcely return an answer. At last he commenced discoursing with great volubility in Gypsy and Latin. I did not understand much of what he said. His words were wild and incoherent, but he repeatedly threatened some person. The last bottle was now exhausted: he demanded more. I told him in a gentle manner that he had drunk enough. He looked on the ground for some time, then slowly, and somewhat hesitatingly, drew his sword and laid it on the table. It was become dark. I was not afraid of the fellow, but I wished to avoid anything unpleasant. I called to Francisco to bring lights, and obeying a sign which I made him, he sat down at the table. The Gypsy glared fiercely upon him - Francisco laughed, and began with great glee to talk in Basque, of which the Gypsy understood not a word. The Basques, like all Tartars, (51) and such they are, are paragons of fidelity and good nature; they are only dangerous when outraged, when they are terrible indeed. Francisco, to the strength of a giant joined the disposition of a lamb. He was beloved even in the patio of the prison, where he used to pitch the bar and wrestle with the murderers and felons, always coming off victor. He continued speaking Basque. The Gypsy was incensed; and, forgetting the languages in which, for the last hour, he had been speaking, complained to Francisco of his rudeness in speaking any tongue but Castilian. The Basque replied by a loud carcajada, and slightly touched the Gypsy on the knee. The latter sprang up like a mine discharged, seized his sword, and, retreating a few steps, made a desperate lunge at Francisco.
The Basques, next to the Pasiegos, (52) are the best cudgel-players in Spain, and in the world. Francisco held in his hand part of a broomstick, which he had broken in the stable, whence he had just ascended. With the swiftness of lightning he foiled the stroke of Chaleco, and, in another moment, with a dexterous blow, struck the sword out of his hand, sending it ringing against the wall.
The Gypsy resumed his seat and his cigar. He occasionally looked at the Basque. His glances were at first atrocious, but presently changed their expression, and appeared to me to become prying and eagerly curious. He at last arose, picked up his sword, sheathed it, and walked slowly to the door; when there he stopped, turned round, advanced close to Francisco, and looked him steadfastly in the face. "My good fellow," said he, "I am a Gypsy, and can read baji. Do you know where you will be at this time to-morrow?" (53) Then, laughing like a hyena, he departed, and I never saw him again.
At that time on the morrow, Francisco was on his death-bed. He had caught the jail fever, which had long raged in the Carcel de la Corte, where I was imprisoned. In a few days he was buried, a ma.s.s of corruption, in the Campo Santo of Madrid.
CHAPTER V
THE Gitanos, in their habits and manner of life, are much less cleanly than the Spaniards. The hovels in which they reside exhibit none of the neatness which is observable in the habitations of even the poorest of the other race. The floors are unswept, and abound with filth and mud, and in their persons they are scarcely less vile. Inattention to cleanliness is a characteristic of the Gypsies, in all parts of the world.
The Bishop of Forli, as far back as 1422, gives evidence upon this point, and insinuates that they carried the plague with them; as he observes that it raged with peculiar violence the year of their appearance at Forli. (54)
At the present day they are almost equally disgusting, in this respect, in Hungary, England, and Spain. Amongst the richer Gitanos, habits of greater cleanliness of course exist than amongst the poorer. An air of s.l.u.ttishness, however, pervades their dwellings, which, to an experienced eye, would sufficiently attest that the inmates were Gitanos, in the event of their absence.
What can be said of the Gypsy dress, of which such frequent mention is made in the Spanish laws, and which is prohibited together with the Gypsy language and manner of life? Of whatever it might consist in former days, it is so little to be distinguished from the dress of some cla.s.ses amongst the Spaniards, that it is almost impossible to describe the difference. They generally wear a high- peaked, narrow-brimmed hat, a zamarra of sheep-skin in winter, and, during summer, a jacket of brown cloth; and beneath this they are fond of exhibiting a red plush waistcoat, something after the fashion of the English jockeys, with numerous b.u.t.tons and clasps.
A faja, or girdle of crimson silk, surrounds the waist, where, not unfrequently, are stuck the cachas which we have already described.
Pantaloons of coa.r.s.e cloth or leather descend to the knee; the legs are protected by woollen stockings, and sometimes by a species of spatterdash, either of cloth or leather; stout high-lows complete the equipment.
Such is the dress of the Gitanos of most parts of Spain. But it is necessary to remark that such also is the dress of the chalans, and of the muleteers, except that the latter are in the habit of wearing broad sombreros as preservatives from the sun. This dress appears to be rather Andalusian than Gitano; and yet it certainly beseems the Gitano better than the chalan or muleteer. He wears it with more easy negligence or jauntiness, by which he may be recognised at some distance, even from behind.