Dialect in British Fiction: 1800-1836Funded by The Arts and Humanities Research CouncilSupported by The University of Sheffield
Full record including Speech Extracts
Silvanella; or, the Gipsey. A Novel. In Four Volumes.
Author Details
Author Name:Unknown
Gender:Unknown
Anonymous:Yes
Publication Details
Publisher:Printed at the Minerva Press for A.K. Newman & Co. Leadenhall-Street.
Place:London (note this Minerva edition differs from that cited by Garside et al.)
Date:1812
Novel Details
Genre:Courtship; inheritance/identity; manners/society; mystery
Setting:Gloucestershire; country house
Period:Contemporary
Plot
The handsome and moral Sir William Rochford comes home unexpectedly from his Grand Tour on the death of his father in 1805. He inherits title and estates. He is expected to attend balls and social events on the country circuit, and causes much interest among the young ladies. In particular, the devious Mrs. Briton attempts to make a match between Rochford and her daughter Eliza, but Rochford has no interest. Out on a walk one night, Rochford encounters the gipsy girl, Deb. Deciding immediately that she cannot really be a gypsy, he takes her into his house. His sister, Mrs Cameron, who has had a very romantic upbringing, renames her Silvanella. Silvanella, naturally, grows up to be beautiful and sensitive. She first befriends Miss Fletcher (later Mrs Lavington) who has been educated on male principles by her father. Later she is taken up by Mrs Cameron as a companion.
Rochford's friend from Russia, Clarendon, comes to visit with his young son, Charles, and unprepossessing nephew, George. Reference is made to Rochford's great love in Russia, Angelica, who is unhappily married to someone else (later it is revealed that Rochford fell in love with her when she was believed to be a widow, but her husband re-appeared on the eve of their marriage). Charles meets Silvanella while she is staying with Mrs Fletcher, and initially is much struck by how much she resembles his cousin Angelica. Later he falls in love with her, not knowing of her low birth. When he discovers it, he initially is too forward with her (very icky scene). When he meets her again at Mrs Cameron's he humbly repents for his earlier behaviour, and she forgives him. They fall in love. It is revealed that Silvenella has the family crest and motto of the Clarendons on her arm, and when she is baptised she takes the name Silvanella Clarendon. But Charles is an heir because his cousin George has died at sea at sea and Mrs Briton tries to snare him for Eliza. Eliza has no interest in him and instead elopes with Captain Bolton. Mrs Briton blames Charles, and in revenge sends a letter to his parents, informing them that he has fallen in love with a vagrant. He promises never to marry without their consent.
Silvenella is heartbroken, and travels with the Lavingtons because Mr Lavington is ill. He dies at sea and they end up in Lisbon. There they are befriended by the Osbornes. Silvanella is seen playing the harp by Sir James Barrington who promptly has a fit. It is revealed that Barrington is in fact Rochford, who has taken the new name at the request of a benefactor (this makes no sense, except as a plot device to allow Silvanella and Sir James to meet without knowing each other).
Barrington decides that only Silvanella can mend his broken heart, and after various events and debates, she reluctantly accepts him. She admires and respects him, but still has feelings for Charles. Then Charles turns up and reveals he has encountered an old midwife who has explained that she partook in exchanging Lady Clarendon's baby girl for a baby boy (George, who died at sea). This was done at the behest of Mrs Briton, who had a hold over the midwife. To try to ensure that the injustice could be recovered, the midwife tattooed the baby with the family crest. All ends happily.
Overview of the Dialect
Very heavily marked Gloucestershire dialect occurs among the servants, together with explanatory footnotes and comments about etymology. A number of characters are marked for Gloucestershire dialect. Also, Deb, the gypsy girl, speaks (presumably) some kind of Romany to begin with, but quickly adopts Standard English.
Displaying 7 characters from this novel    |    Highlight dialect features in each extract    |    Do not highlight dialect features in each extract
Speaker #1:Mrs Higgins - Wife of Walter Higgins, she is former servant at the Abbey
Individual or Group:Individual
Primary Identity:Mrs Higgins
Gender:Female
Age:Adult - middle aged
Narrative Voice:3rd person
Role:Significant

Social Role
Social Role Description:Wife of Walter Higgins, she is former servant at the Abbey
Social Role Category:Servant
Speaker's Origin
Place of Origin Description:Gloucester
Place of Origin Category:Rochford Abbey, Gloucestershire, South West England, England
The storm still increased, but Mrs. Higgins could not prevail upon Sir James to stay till it was over; she therefore fetched her umbrella, and did all in her power to persuade him to put on a great coat of her husband's, which he at first refused.
" La! now, do ye pray Sir , put on *our measter's great quoate* , I assure ye 'twill kip out all the roin , for Walter is despert subject to the rheumatics in his feace, and ou * had it made wi such on high collar as it do cover'n up quite to the nause ."*
"I shall not want it, Mrs. Higgins," replied Sir James, "I am much obliged to you, but the umbrella will do vastly well."
" La ! why Sir, there! 'tis very bold of I to be sartin , to ask you to put on a poor man's quoate ; and perhaps a great gentleman like you mayn't chuse it; but there! I begs pardon ; and I assure you Walter is very clean and dessent *; and he has never worn it but three times."
* Our measter's , my husband's; quoate , coat; roin , rain; ou , him, or her; nause , nose; dessent , decent.
The most learned etymologists have referred these terms to the language of the Indigenae, called by Caesar "Dobuni." Schweighauser supposes that the original dialect was the genuine " Strood Waater ," from the Celtic.
(Vol. 1,p. 20-21)
Speaker #2:Deb - Gypsy
Individual or Group:Individual
Primary Identity:Deb, then Silvanella
Gender:Female
Age:Adult - young
Narrative Voice:3rd person
Role:Central

Social Role
Social Role Description:Gypsy
Social Role Category:Destitute poor
Speaker's Origin
Place of Origin Description:Gloucester, but a gypsy
Place of Origin Category:England
Extract #1 dialect features: Grammar, Metalanguage, Orthographical Respelling
Speakers: All , Deb, interlocutor
She told him in a strange jargon , that she was with a gang of gypsies who had stationed themselves about a mile off; that she had concealed herself for fear of being beaten, as she had failed in purloining some ducks they had sent her after; and just as she had finished her tale, Sir James heard a voice calling out "Deb! Deb! where are you? I'll make you repent running away!" and immediately a gypsey woman made her appearance.
The poor girl flew up to him, and instinctively caught hold of his coat. "Oh! save me! save me!" she cried, "I shall be killed! my mother will kill me!" It immediately struck Sir James as impossible that this beautiful creature could be the offspring of a copper-coloured race; her auburn hair, and fair, though sun-burnt complexion, plainly evinced she was of a different parentage. "Woman!" said he, (in an authorative tone,) "how did this child come to be amongst you?" " I be her mother ." "It is false! and if you do not confess the truth, I will have you all taken up and punished as you deserve."
The sybil staid to hear no more; she ran away, muttering execrations through the wood, leaving poor Deb behind.
"Are you willing to leave these people, child?" said Sir James.
"Oh yes, I be very willing, I hate to be de thief." "Well then follow me; I will order my housekeeper to find you some employment. But is that woman really your mother?"
"Oh yes, she be my mother, but me dont love her, she beat me every day." And then pulling down the dirty rags which covered her shoulders, the poor girl shewed the marks of blows on her delicate skin.
(Vol. 1,p. 22-23)
Speakers: All , Deb, interlocutor
The girl persisted that the gypsey woman Sir James spoke to, was her mother, and she never remembered having been with any other set of people besides these vagrants; and by the strange gibberish she spoke, it was very apparent, she never had been taught a better language.
"Well, however things may be enveloped in mystery," cried Mrs. Cameron, "I am sure this child is of no vulgar origin. I hope Mrs. Nelson, she will not be employed about any laborious or menial offices."
"No, Madam, I wanted a girl very much to assist me in the still room, and in pickling and preserving, and I shall instruct her in these things, as she seems very docile. And if she is a good girl, I will teach her to read; and Mr. Sloane the house steward has taken a great fancy to her, and says he will teach her to write."
"That is very kind indeed," returned Mrs. Cameron, "I hope you will be very grateful."
" Me dont know what be grateful ," said the girl, "but me love Madam Nelson, she be very kind to me, me do all she tell me ."
"Should you like to go back again to your mother?"
"Oh no! no! me hope never see gypsey more ; they use me very bad , and make me de thief."
"Well," said Mrs. Cameron, "you shall not go back to them. But you must endeavour to talk like Mrs. Nelson, and to learn to read and write, and I will give you books, and perhaps may instruct you in some things myself, when I come into this country again."
"Thank you me lady, very good me lady," cried the girl, dropping an awkward curtsey at every sentence, " me try all day long , for me speak like me lady. "
(Vol. 1,p. 61-62)
Speaker #3:Molly - Servant
Individual or Group:Individual
Primary Identity:Molly, the servant girl
Gender:Female
Age:Adult - young
Narrative Voice:3rd person
Role:Minor

Social Role
Social Role Description:Servant
Social Role Category:Servant
Speaker's Origin
Place of Origin Description:Gloucester
Place of Origin Category:Rochford Abbey, Gloucestershire, South West England, England
Speakers: All , Molly, interlocutor
"How d'ye do Molly?" said Clarendon, "have you heard any thing of your master lately?" "Yes Sir," replied the girl, making an aukward curtesy, " Mr. Slone had a letter yesterday, and master is coming here for a few days soon, but ou wo'nt stop long; for I finds he is going down into Wales."
Charles, who wanted to come to the point, asked Molly who the young lady was she had met. "Miss Fletcher, the parson's daughter, Sir," replied the girl. "But the other young lady," returned Clarendon. "Young lady, Sir," exclaimed Molly, giggling, " 'tis no young lady, but the gypsey wench, as our master brought home with him . A proud, insolent minx, as will hardly speak to her betters ; for I thinks myself her betters. I was born of honest, dessent parents, and dont belong to no thieves and vagabonds ." "You must mistake young woman, you and I cannot mean the same person."
" La yes we does Sir, I don't wonder as how you took her for a lady, to be sure , she has the impudence to dress like one. And the parson's daughter, have made her think more of herself than she did before, by filling her head wi a * passel of larning and nonsense, not fit for a poor wench as must work for her bread . But she is a genius it seems, and much good it will do her. She will be a kept madam, or some such thing; for what sober honest man would take up wi such fal lal trumpery as that for a wife?" "You don't seem to like her Molly." "Why no Sir, I wonder how I should. An old sarvant like I , who have lived in the family these six years, and worn myself out, must needs think it very hard, to have such a wench as that set above me." "Nay Molly," said Clarendon, "you don't look much as if you were worn out I think, with that fine bloom in your cheeks. It don't appear as if your constitution was hurt by hard work."
" La Sir," replied Molly, simpering, " I dare say I do look all of a blowze now. I'ze been walking so fast, and put myself in a bit of a heat , cause I was sent after that hussy. For Madam Nelson wanted her home from the parson's, (where she has been for ever so long,) backwards and forwards, cause master was coming home, and there was a deal to do. I wonders what would be said, if other sarvants was to go out when they saw fit, and stay as long as they liked?"
(Vol. 1,p. 197-199)
Speakers: All , Molly, interlocutor
I said to Molly, who just now brought in my breakfast, "Molly says I, do come to my window, and tell me if you can, who that lady is, that is walking with our master? " Why, if I did not know Silvanella was a hundred miles off, I would lay five shillings to two-pence it was she. But Molly said, " Sure , Mrs. Nelson, that is not likely, for though vine veathers do make vine birds , yet methinks , her would not look so much like a gentlewoman as that, vor all some volks have set her up so. Besides, I warrant our master would not walk about wi she, no more than he would with Peggy, or Hannah, or I, or the cook.""
(Vol. 3,p. 146)
Speaker #4:Mrs Gauge - Wife of the exciseman
Individual or Group:Individual
Primary Identity:Mrs Gauge
Gender:Female
Age:Adult - middle aged
Narrative Voice:3rd person
Role:Minor

Social Role
Social Role Description:Wife of the exciseman
Social Role Category:Trade or craft
Speaker's Origin
Place of Origin Description:Gloucester
Place of Origin Category:Rochford Abbey, Gloucestershire, South West England, England
" Why you be always a persuading I to go to tabernacle , Mrs. Gauge, and there I did think to ha goane to day, but the volk did zay our Rector was growd a despert vine mon , and I wanted to hear un . Thof to be zure , nif I had know'd as much as I do now, I would ha goane this morning to hear measter Rousem. I didn't understond one word the parson zed , except Messopotamia, ou vas so despert vine . To my mind nif ministers be ever so larned , they should talk about zuch matters, as poor volk can take in." "As for that, Dame Trotman, t'was just as well thee dids'nt understond un , vor all the good it would ha done thy poor soul. What be the church ministers but sons of Belial?" "Why I do think , Mrs. Gauge, zome on um be as good as they as do preach at tabernacle . There's good Mr. Flatcher as pious a mon , as ever mounted a pilpit . 'Tis unknown how much good ou do do . There's our John now, used to get out to yeale forever, and never minded what became of I ; but now he is as solid as any one in the parish, and 'tis all out of hearing parson Flatcher . And Mary Dobson, her zays as how Obadiah, used to be forever after the wenchen , till ou preached the sarmont about dultry ."
" Ah !" cried Mrs. Gauge, " 'tis all legality dame! all legality! if you was to hear dear Mr. Rousem, you'd never go to church no more ." "Why I met Deborah Gibson just nows , coming from hearing parson Rubric, and her told me, as how ou preached about nothing but zwirarts , and that all the volk laugh'd . Why to my mind ' tis quite awful! laws ! if you had heard good Mr. Rousem to day! dear mon , when ou talked of the Pharisees, and they do as pride themselves on good works , ou was so yarnest to save our poor souls, that ou reaved till ou was all in a prespiration, and the very hair stood an ind on his head. Oh ou's quite a Boanerges! and so comfortable a minister as ever preached the gospel; for though ou do tell us ou 's afeared we shall all be lost, ou 's got no more gall in it, than a dove: and ou 's out of the pilpit , ou 's as free to a poor soul, as ou would be to a lord." " Well Mrs Gauge, I'm but a poor weak woman, and not so larned as you in these matters for sartin ; but it do zeem to I , as what parson Flatcher do zay , is zound to the back bone. And as for free, ou do go into every poor mon's house in the parish, and do a zight of good, though ou is but a curate, and has'nt much money."
* Ou , he or she -- pilpit , pulpit -- our John , means her husband -- get out to yeale , go the the ale-house -- solid , sober, steady, -- wenchen , wenches -- switart , sweetheart -- yarnest , earnest -- in in, in him.
(Vol. 2,p. 179-181)
Speaker #5:Dame Trotman - Widow
Individual or Group:Individual
Primary Identity:Dame Trotman
Gender:Female
Age:Adult - middle aged
Narrative Voice:3rd person
Role:Minor

Social Role
Social Role Description:Widow
Social Role Category:Trade or craft
Speaker's Origin
Place of Origin Description:Gloucester
Place of Origin Category:Rochford Abbey, Gloucestershire, South West England, England
" Why you be always a persuading I to go to tabernacle , Mrs. Gauge, and there I did think to ha goane to day, but the volk did zay our Rector was growd a despert vine mon , and I wanted to hear un . Thof to be zure , nif I had know'd as much as I do now, I would ha goane this morning to hear measter Rousem. I didn't understond one word the parson zed , except Messopotamia, ou vas so despert vine . To my mind nif ministers be ever so larned , they should talk about zuch matters, as poor volk can take in." "As for that, Dame Trotman, t'was just as well thee dids'nt understond un , vor all the good it would ha done thy poor soul. What be the church ministers but sons of Belial?" "Why I do think , Mrs. Gauge, zome on um be as good as they as do preach at tabernacle . There's good Mr. Flatcher as pious a mon , as ever mounted a pilpit . 'Tis unknown how much good ou do do . There's our John now, used to get out to yeale forever, and never minded what became of I ; but now he is as solid as any one in the parish, and 'tis all out of hearing parson Flatcher . And Mary Dobson, her zays as how Obadiah, used to be forever after the wenchen , till ou preached the sarmont about dultry ."
" Ah !" cried Mrs. Gauge, " 'tis all legality dame! all legality! if you was to hear dear Mr. Rousem, you'd never go to church no more ." "Why I met Deborah Gibson just nows , coming from hearing parson Rubric, and her told me, as how ou preached about nothing but zwirarts , and that all the volk laugh'd . Why to my mind ' tis quite awful! laws ! if you had heard good Mr. Rousem to day! dear mon , when ou talked of the Pharisees, and they do as pride themselves on good works , ou was so yarnest to save our poor souls, that ou reaved till ou was all in a prespiration, and the very hair stood an ind on his head. Oh ou's quite a Boanerges! and so comfortable a minister as ever preached the gospel; for though ou do tell us ou 's afeared we shall all be lost, ou 's got no more gall in it, than a dove: and ou 's out of the pilpit , ou 's as free to a poor soul, as ou would be to a lord." " Well Mrs Gauge, I'm but a poor weak woman, and not so larned as you in these matters for sartin ; but it do zeem to I , as what parson Flatcher do zay , is zound to the back bone. And as for free, ou do go into every poor mon's house in the parish, and do a zight of good, though ou is but a curate, and has'nt much money."
* Ou , he or she -- pilpit , pulpit -- our John , means her husband -- get out to yeale , go the the ale-house -- solid , sober, steady, -- wenchen , wenches -- switart , sweetheart -- yarnest , earnest -- in in, in him.
(Vol. 2,p. 179-181)
Speaker #6:Robin Higgins - Gardener
Individual or Group:Individual
Primary Identity:Robin
Gender:Male
Age:Adult - young
Narrative Voice:3rd person
Role:Significant

Social Role
Social Role Description:Gardener
Social Role Category:Servant
Speaker's Origin
Place of Origin Description:Gloucester
Place of Origin Category:Rochford Abbey, Gloucestershire, South West England, England
Continuing in this situation some time, the sound of footsteps, and a voice which exclaimed, " Lawk a marcy on me! 'tis her ghaust !" made her start, and look up: when she beheld Robin Higgins looking aghast, and standing before her.Robin came in for a gardening knife he had left on the table, and not knowing our heroine was in the country, he made this exclamation. "How d'ye do Robin?" said Silvanella, drying her tears. "Why I beant mighty well, but you, Silvanella, know the cause of thuc . How be you? to my mind, you look despert meakumish ! la , you did use to have a colour as fresh as a rause ." "Ah! those days are over Robin."
"And why be they auver ? cause ye do kip company we gentlevolk , and turn night into doy . Zookers ! why before Madam Cameron comed here, and you used to be we Madam Nelson and rise yarley a mornings, and go to bed yarley b'nights , you was the prettiest plump rawy wench, I ever set my eyes on! but now you do look shim as skinny and as white as a leady . Ah ! Silvanella, you had a better a had I. We should ha been as appy the days is long, you should never have wanted for nothing . And as for the veather's consent, I don't doubt but as how I could ha got that . Vor mother I know, would ha persuaded un toot . And a man would hardly be such a vool , as to cut off his own natural posteriors out a spite, case his son didn't marry to please un . Thof to be sure , ou did zay , that nif I did ha you, ou would make all he is worth to cousin John Dowse: and that to be sartin , would be pravawking enough, case d'ye zee , veather our zaved a good deal a money. But a may partly thank mother vor that, vor her was always a despert scrat . However, Miss Silvanella, if you would have I, and take all changes, I'd work for you late and yarly , come the worst. Do ye think ont now, woot ?" "I am much obliged to you Robin, but you know my mind on that subject."
"Why I do. And I have dissolved many times never to zay no more about it . But there, when I do zee ye , I caunt help it. Vor them there pretty eyes , do meake me break all my resoluteions . La , methinks when I catched you just nows a crying , they did shine , vor all the world just like the zun , drough a shower of roin . Ah! Silvanella, I be no more like the zame lad , I was two years back, than nothing . I was then as merry a bird, but now, I cannot get a crum of rest, and do nothing but toss and turn all night, and think of those pretty eyes. Mother cries, and says I am become quite a noomy . Now do ye , Silvanella, consider a little about it, you will never have a truer lovyer ; and I doant care a brass vardor about your being a gypsey wench: I am sure, I should scorn ever to tell you of it, if we should ever have any words." "You are very kind," replied Silvanella, looking rather disdainfully, and rising to leave the marquee , "but I desire you will never trouble me any more, with your conversation."
" Nay , you need not to give yourself these high airs neither , considering all things. But I'll be danged if you shall be off, without letting me have a buss ," cried Robin, attempting at the same time to lay hold of Silvanella, who was struggling violently to disengage herself from the embraces of this boor, when Sir James Barrington entered the marquee [...]
(Vol. 3,p. 134-137)
Speaker #7:Gypsies - Gypsy
Individual or Group:Group
Primary Identity:Gypsies
Gender:Mixed
Age:Adult - unspecified age
Narrative Voice:3rd person
Role:Peripheral
Dialect Features:Grammar, Metalanguage

Social Role
Social Role Description:Gypsy
Social Role Category:Destitute poor
Speaker's Origin
Place of Origin Description:Gloucester, but gypsies
Place of Origin Category:England
Extract #1 dialect features: Grammar, Metalanguage
Speakers: All , Gypsies
A strange jargon of voices, and the sound of wheels made them look round , when they beheld a gang of gypsies on their march, with a tilted cart drawn by a dog horse, which contained some of their goods and chattels; and some of the women and children were on asses. They were immediately accosted by one of the former, who cried out in their peculiar dialect " Me tell my lady's fortune! tell you good fortune my lady, me tell you good luck please your honour, if your honour cross a poor gypsy's hand with a shilling."
(Vol. 4,p. 159-160)
Displaying 7 characters from this novel    |    Highlight dialect features in each extract    |    Do not highlight dialect features in each extract
Version 1.1 (December 2015)Background image reproduced from the Database of Mid Victorian Illustration (DMVI)