s of the Scotch
Gipsies--Yetholm (Kirk), a small village nestling at the foot of the
Cheviots in Roxburghshire. Here I saw the abode of the Queen, a neat
little cottage, with well-trimmed garden in front. Inside all was a
perfect pattern of neatness, and the old lady herself was as clean 'as a
new pin.' As I passed the cottage a carriage and pair drove up, and the
occupants, four ladies, alighted and entered the cottage. I was
afterwards told that they were much pleased with their visit, and that,
in remembrance of it, each of the four promised to send a new frock to
the Queen's grandchild. The Queen's son ('the Prince,' as he is called)
I saw at St. James's Fair, where he was swaggering about in a drunken
state, offering to fight any man. I believe he was subsequently locked
up. In the month of August there are few Gipsies resident in Yetholm:
they are generally on their travels selling crockeryware (the country
people call the Gipsies 'muggers,' from the fact that they sell mugs),
baskets made of rushes, and horn spoons, both of which they manufacture
themselves. I have a distinct recollection of Will Faa, the then King of
the Gipsies. He was 95 when I knew him, and was lithe and strong. He
had a keen hawk eye, which was not dimmed at that extreme age. He was
considered both a good shot and a famous fisher. There was hardly a
trout hole in the Bowmont Water but he knew, and his company used to be
eagerly sought by the fly-fishers who came from the South. My opinion of
the Gipsies--and I have seen much of them during the last forty years--is
that they are a lazy, dissolute set of men and women, preferring to beg,
or steal, or poach, to work, and that, although many efforts have been
made (more especially by the late Rev. Mr. Baird, of Yetholm), to settle
them, they are irreclaimable. There are but two policemen in Yetholm and
Kirk Yetholm, but sometimes the assistance of some of the townsfolk is
required to bring about order in that portion of the village in which the
Gipsies reside. I may say that the townsfolk do not fraternise with the
Gipsies, who are regarded with the greatest suspicion by the former. Ask
a townsman of Yetholm what he thinks of the Gipsies, and he will tell you
they are simply vagabonds and impostors, who lounge about, and smoke, and
drink, and fight. In fact, they are the very scum of the human race;
and, what is more singular, they seem quite satisfied to remain as they
are, repud