The pocket George Borrow : $b passages chosen from the works of George BorrowBorrow, George
General
The pocket George Borrow : $b passages chosen from the works of George Borrow
Borrow, George
Authors, English -- 19th century; Borrow, George, 1803-1881 -- Selections
The English Gypsies are constant attendants at the racecourse; what
jockey is not? Perhaps jockeyism originated with them, and even racing,
at least in England. Jockeyism properly implies _the management of a
whip_, and the word jockey is neither more nor less than the term
slightly modified, by which they designate the formidable whips which
they usually carry, and which are at present in general use amongst horse-
traffickers, under the title of jockey whips. They are likewise fond of
resorting to the prize-ring, and have occasionally even attained some
eminence, as principals, in those disgraceful and brutalizing exhibitions
called pugilistic combats. I believe a great deal has been written on
the subject of the English Gypsies, but the writers have dwelt too much
in generalities; they have been afraid to take the Gypsy by the hand,
lead him forth from the crowd, and exhibit him, in the area; he is well
worth observing. When a boy of fourteen, I was present at a prize-fight;
why should I hide the truth? It took place on a green meadow, beside a
running stream, close by the old church of E---, and within a league of
the ancient town of N---, the capital of one of the eastern counties. The
terrible Thurtell was present, lord of the concourse; for wherever he
moved he was master, and whenever he spoke, even when in chains, every
other voice was silent. He stood on the mead, grim and pale as usual,
with his bruisers around. He it was, indeed, who _got up_ the fight, as
he had previously done twenty others; it being his frequent boast that he
had first introduced bruising and bloodshed amidst rural scenes, and
transformed a quiet slumbering town into a den of Jews and metropolitan
thieves. Some time before the commencement of the combat, three men,
mounted on wild-looking horses, came dashing down the road in the
direction of the meadow, in the midst of which they presently showed
themselves, their horses clearing the deep ditches with wonderful
alacrity. 'That's Gypsy Will and his gang,' lisped a Hebrew pickpocket;
'we shall have another fight.' The word Gypsy was always sufficient to
excite my curiosity, and I looked attentively at the new-comers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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