A GIPSY FUNERAL.

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 13, 23 December 1911, Page 14

A GIPSY FUNERAL.

CHIEF'S DAUGHTEK 13U1UED AT MITCHAM, Willi the strange rites, barbaric colour, and bizarre ceremonies of the East, the Galiciau gipsies who were cncainped near iMitcliam, ill Surrey, buried their chief's daughter. On a typical English autumn day of grey mist, amid a country of those homely elms and pollarded willows that make up the domestic landscape of England, and wilh Iho white crosses of Mitcham Old Church Cemetery for background, there wa.s enacted a sceno which carried the spectator centuries back in time, and a thousand miles away in space. These mysterious wandering creatures, who have for some weeks been encamjietl at Bcddington Comer, a mile from Mitcham, are. foregathering there from all over Europe. Their ultimate goal, it is said, is South America. When the tribal strength is complete tlie.v will move on another stage in their long pilgrimage, 'ihey will pass on for ever from this country, leaving behind ono permanent possession—the plot of English ground where lies buried their chief's daughter, l'liey havo paid J214 10s. and bought tiio grnve-sito outright. "It is her last house," said Nicholas Tschciron, the old chief, her father. "Sho shall havo it lo herself. Sophie, the dead woman, was twentyseven. . For soniQ weeks sho lay ill in one of the tents which, arranged in a circle round a small meadow, resemble a straight out of an illustrated Bible. Tho tents aro spacious, with carpets on the floor, tapestries hanging from the ridge-poles, large, vividly patterned divans running along the sides to tho dark shadows (it tho back, where, uot far from the wood (ire, t'nero glitters in each tent a large, ornate, and silverplated samovar. Theso tents, with tho little black-haired, brown-skinned children gathered round the smoking fire, aro highly picturesque, but full of draughts, and not favourable to sufferers from pneumonia,-ro the sick woman was moved to the Carshalton Hospital, a mile awoy. There, amid loud wailing and lamentation from her friends gathered outside, sho died. Her funeral was made the occasion for a display of all the tribal wealth of jewels and gaudy attire. Three new dresses, tho outer ono of scarlet* tho ancient colour of mourning, wero put upon the dead woman herself. A silver girdle was round her body. Strings of rod coral and rows of gold coins wore displayed about, her corsage. There were rings on her fingers, gold eardings in her ears, a necklace of (welve 100-franc pieces around her neck. Many jewels were woven into her hair. Soap and a comb were put in the coffin in order thai she might have (he wherewithal to make her toilette before entering into the Celestial Kingdom, and over all was thrown a cover of lino lace. Silently, behind the hearse which carried tho hotly ti*oin the hospital, formed up tho men of the tribe, (all, handsome fellows, with large, black beards and moustaches. They wor? heavily-braided coats of bright blue cloth, with four rows of largo and ornate silver buttons, some of them jewelled with turquoises and red coral. Two or three waisicoasts, brocaded trousers of dark cloth, down tho sides of which wcro strips of green and scarlet ,and top boots embroidered with fantastic stitching, completed their attire. Bareheaded was old Nicholas Tschciron, a gold chain across his breast, walking in front. They marched to tho encampment, maintaining as thoy went a loud chorus of lamentation. "O.God, what, have you sent to lis?" wailed the chief in his own strange languago. "Havo mercy oil her soul/' cried his followers, "0 God, have mercy," said the chief, ami again came tho deep chorus from tho men, "0 God, what have you sent, to us?" At the encampment the women, gorgeous in gold and crimson, purple and arsenic green, joined tho grief-stricken cortege. Tho dead woman's sister shrieked when she saw (he hearse, wrung her hands, and would have knelt in front of it' had not two of; llio men prevented her. In tho little chapel which is provided for that part of the cemetery reserved for all denominations, Father I'ooley, a Boman Catholic priest, officiated at the funeral service. Many who could not get inside Iho chapel sat dewn outside, wliero the eldest, woman commenced a lamentation: This concluded, tlie.v lit pipes and cigarettes, and waited. Inside, the chief, with the priest's permission, lifted off tho lid of (he coffin. Each person present advanced in turn and took a last look at the dead, while tho chief murmured an incantation. From tho chapel to the graveside (lie men inarched, each carrying n lighted candle in his hand. At tile last moment they threw away their cigarettes nut of respect for th'o dead, and Iho coflin was lowered into the grave. Tho cliicf. produced a bottle of rum, and, after ceremoniously pouring a few drops on the coffin, drank" and passed the bottle round. The wailing of men and women grew to a climax, and at last the priest had to command silence in order that, service might conclude. The termination of the servico aud (he departure of the women wcro.fc.v no means the end of tho proceedings, in llio coflin was much wealth of gold and jewels, and. fearing that those in the. s'lrango land in which they found themselves would, given onporlunity, open the coffin nnd rifle (he dead of its possessions, (he men insi-ted on wailing till the whole gravo had been filled in with solid brickwork and covered over with a. large and heavy tombstone. The old chief sounded down by (lie graveside to mourn silently. The other men—the actual business of burial accomplished—stood about the grave smoking I,heir pipes, chattering ■ cheerfully, and laughing at times. Thoy arranged reliefs, one party going off for refreshment, whilo tho other stayed lo watch the grave. The hours passed as (lie bricklayers worked busily, mixing ; (heir mortar, nutting layer nfler layer of bricks ovor the grave. Tho gipsies had brought nrovisions, and after a lime sat ■ contentedly down on tho tombstone nnd 1 consumed bread and sliecs of boiled ham. 1 Finally, when all had been made secure 1 as a strongroom, tliev depnrted, leaving ! (ho scene to the stolid English policemen ' who had been witnesses and protectors of 1 this so utterly un-Enclish ceremonial,— London "Stnndard," October 10.