The record-union., 1892-11-12
IlSpecial Correspondence of the RECORD
UNION. Copyright. 1921

USpeciaI Correspondence of the RECORD
UNION. Copyright, 1891
LONDON, October 81, 1892.
To me there is something inexpressibly
pathetic in the unvarying good humor
and kind heartedness Of English gypsies
when their hard and bitter, though self
chosen, mode OF life is considered. And
this is nowhere on earth made so plain
and emphatic as when you find them in
and about London, all the brightness Of
the summer roads and lanes but MEM
ory, and the cruel deprivations of winter
generally a winters battle for existence
with million other lowly-staring them
squarely in their stoical faces.
Crafty, wary, hard, unworthy vaga-
bond though you deem him, as he con-
fronts you and mankind in this battle for
life and those heloves, he truly has an
other side, CHEEKY, good and manly one,
too, that, without one iota of the prompt
ing to which all modern society stands
indebted, often glows with kindness, gen
erosity, helpfulness, good cheer, and
spirit of positive lovelineSs.
An ugly word is never heard in a gypsy
camp or band. a selfish act is never
seen. The eternal gOading of mean
NOlidAlf VIC DtuAdl ODSttulAN OI Il Udtl
man, the hateful jealousies Of neighbOrs,
the contemplate rivalries of pretended
friends. each and all are as unknown as
poison in the pure air of heaven they
breathe in tent or upon the road.
There is a quality OF sincerity and ten
derness III their dOings with each other
that Is ever simple, child-like and beau
tlful. Their mirth, merriment and jollity
are all considerate. Baillery is tolerant,
wit never a murderOuS weapon. With
them good cheer is seldom license; mer-
ry-making leaves little sting; liberty new
er knows lewdnesS.
Ignorant as they may be of your books;
obstinately as they refuse the "civiliza-
tom Of which we boast; secretly proud as
they are OF the ostracism which brands
them as an outlaw race; heathenish as
You must consistently call them because
they hold your creeds III contempt, they
are yet more than the peers Of any living
people in everything tender and true ana
loyal growing into and out of the domes-
tic relation, and in all that which yields,
without law or force, and as if unconsci-
ously, the helpful goodness which ever
prompts and always exceeds exact justice
TO ones fellows.
There are undoubtedly hundreds of To-
calities which may be termed gypsy
ground" in London and its far-reaching
suburbs. | have visited nearly three
score Of these places within the past few
years. In some instances they are in the
most densely and forlornly populated sec
tlonS of the metropolis. Here in, perhaps,
the stable yard OF some ancient historic
inn, among the sheds and outbuildings of
an abandoned warehouse or manutacUory
III the mOldy. cobweDbed precincts of
some habitation which has got into chan
Gerry and inevitable decay, and even in
" hitechapel purlieus and upon the roofs
OF houses at the edge OF the huge masonry
sustaining IT fhp of
which pass out of the city above instead
OF through or beneath 1t, will be found
single families or little communities of
the Romany folk. All are working in
their way as If for dear life to sustain life
until the springtme exodus shall free
them from their hateful Imprisonment.
and contrary TO general belief, or what
any one may say, none of them are idle
Following up the trail and traits OF gyp-
sizes while in their London winter quar-
ters, brought me originally among the al
most as curious cOstermouger folk, and [
found that there were hundreds OF gypsy
families owning kindred ties to costers
who sought quarters among this class and
at once fell into their manner of work and
ways. Acquaintance and confidence soon
brought me to many of these almost un-
known gypsy and coster communities in
the very heart of London.
Two OF them are very interesting and
historic. If you were wandering about
London up HolbOrn way and should come
TO ancient Furnivals Inn you might note
that its decrepit back hangs over the en-
trance to a narrow lane. This is Leather
Lane. Scarcely wide enough beneath the
back windows of FurnivaPs Inn to per-
init the entrance of a donkey and cart, it
gradually widens towards Theobold's
Row, and to the east and west is itself en-
tered by almost numberless closes and
courts. No casual frequenter of Hol-
born, would notice it, but the locality is
one of the densest in London in point of
population. Among the thousands of
lowly humans living here are fully 500
costermongers, and in the winter time
half as many gypsies. The great resort
OF all these folk is the Leather Bottle,''
public house within the shadowy pre-
cinct.
There are many odd places and studies
here. The former class rather pride
themselves on their utter recklessness in
the matter Of gambling, carousing and
drinking. While they live in entire har-
mony with their Romany friends and
possess certain respect for their winter
companions which permits of no trifling,
IL was easy to see that from the coster
standpoint of ethics the tawny folk are
not considered fairly progressive. They
are too quiet. They attend closely to
work and minimize the i'll effects of pow
erty i'll London.
''Gor bli mei' said a friendly coster.
Sow can ye ave comfort hout o. yer
neighbors, less yecan 'elp carry 'em 'ome
now am agin from the Leather Bother
Strike me lucky, if Iii doan't believe
they'd rather heat wittles than lick pew
ter! Clicking pewter it must be known,
is coster for guzzling four aleu- Gods
truth, but We awSk one on 'em for the
loan O. bob Shilling for few pots at
tn Bottle au' their bloody heyes stick
hout like bleedin' muscles, Cor bli me, so
they do!''
Most of the gypsies i'll this locality live
from halt-dOZen to a score in a room.
They possess the scantiest array ofhouse-
hold utensils. Their native ability to
make the most of little enables them to
patch up a few seats and they sleep COM
fortably ana cheerily packed together
like herriugS. Some of their abOdes are
wretched beyond description to one who
is unable to comprehend their own glad
ness at getting on at all. They work hard
and long. being first at the grand markets
and last to leave the streets. Handbar
rows are used by most OF these. The
mother, father and the grown sons and
daughters all share in the severe work Of
pushing the barrow or cart. Many viii
cover twenty and thirty miles d day in
their rounds
The little folks left at home work on
baskets, color leaves and wild grasses OF
which they have brought in supply of
material from their summer wanderlngs,
and which are sold to the lowly for man
Tel ornaments, or whittle out skewers for
meat stalls. All do something and earn
something. 1fthere is a loss in one days
trade they work the harder the next. All
lhus keep from starvation, which is more
than many who are not heathens can do
IN London. and some ever, crat thrOuuh the