THE KINGDOM OF ROUMANIA
The western coast of the Black Sea is divided into four parts--the
Russian province of Bessarabia at the north, a strip of European Turkey
at the south, and between these two contesting nations are Bulgaria
and Roumania. The latter is a recent nation, made up of the ancient
principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia, which have the Danube River
for their southern and the Carpathian Mountains for the northern and
western boundary. Hungary is on the other side of the range.
Roumania is the most advanced of all the Balkan states yet at the same
time one third of its area toward the north and west is inhabited by a
semi-savage class of shepherds--one of the strangest peoples in Europe.
They follow their flocks in utter solitude among the heights of the
Carpathians during the warmer months of the year, and in the winter
drive them down into the sheltered valleys and plains. They never
accept the shelter of a roof, but sleep among their flocks like dogs,
no matter how cold the atmosphere or how deep the snow. They seldom
speak, and many of them have lost the use of their tongues in their
solitary existence. They are a race by themselves. They are entirely
illiterate; they cannot abide in towns, and they wear a costume of
their own, consisting of coarse white woollen shirts, long mantles of
wool as thick as a carpet, and high caps of sheepskin with the wool
upon them. They let their hair grow long until it hangs upon their
shoulders, and their beards sometimes reach to their waists. They
are very superstitious; they know all the signs and omens, and their
folk-lore and legends have been the theme of poets and writers of
romance for centuries.
There is a race of gypsies in Roumania, too, of greater numbers than
are found in any other country. They are called Tzigany and are
famous for their musical genius. Tzigany orchestras are the fashion
in European restaurants these days, and their wild, weird, passionate
music has a fascination and an exhilaration that comes from none
other. These gypsies number perhaps a quarter of a million and are
related to the tribes that wander about Hungary. They preserve their
distinctive habits, customs, and dress as well as their racial purity
with fierce jealousy. No Tzigany ever marries any but a gypsy; and they
are faithful until death to the members of their own race, although
their transactions with the rest of the population are usually open to
suspicion.
The population of Roumania is about six million, of whom about three
hundred thousand are Jews, 250,000 Roman Catholics, 50,000 Protestants
and the rest orthodox Greeks. It is a singular fact that, although
a greater part of the population belong to the Greek Church, their
greatest pride and satisfaction are found in their descent from the
Roman legions which overcame and occupied the country during the reign
of the emperor Trajan, a century after the Christian era.
The famous column of Trajan, in the centre of Rome, which is familiar
to everybody, bears an epitome in marble of his campaign for the
subjugation of Roumania. You will remember that it is covered with
carvings, winding around it from top to bottom, like the coils of a
serpent, which show the progress of armies and battle scenes. These
carved reliefs contain 2,500 human figures and representations of
hundreds of animals and other objects, and all of them relate to
Roumania. Trajan lies buried beneath this column, but in the Middle
Ages the piety of the popes led them to remove his statue, which was
originally placed upon the summit, and to replace it by one of St.
Peter, so that the rock upon which the Christian church was builded now
assumes, responsibility for the Roman campaign along the Danube.
Trajan left his legions in Roumania as a rampart against the barbarians
upon the north and east, and, notwithstanding the constant invasions
of Avars, Huns, Goths, Tartars, Mongols, Turks, and other hordes from
Asia, their descendants have held their ground, and nothing, as I have
said, is dearer to them than their consciousness of Latin origin. Many
of the customs of the ancient Romans still prevail. And on a certain
holiday in all the villages may be witnessed a revival of the Pyrrhic
dance so sacred in mythology. The peasants wear robes in imitation of
those of the ancient Roman warriors, with bells on their belts and
sleeves; they stamp their feet on the ground like the North American
Indians, and they shout in unison as the warriors of mythology are said
to have shouted in order to prevent Saturn from hearing the voice of
the infant Jupiter, the future king of the gods. The Roumanian peasants
bestow Latin names upon their children, and even upon their steers. A
farmer will call his oxen after Cassius, Cæsar, Brutus, Augustus, and
Antony, and the name of Trajan is as common as the name of John with us.
There are several tangible traces of Trajan remaining. One of them is
a bridge which he built to convey his army across the Danube in the
year 104 A.D. It consisted originally of twenty piers, each 160 feet
long, 145 feet high and 58 feet wide. The original piers still remain
as solid as the mountains, although the bridge has several times been
rebuilt; and the road which leads to the bridge along the right bank of
the Danube is still maintained. Whoever cares to go there may find a
bronze tablet blackened by the hand of centuries, which still bears a
Latin inscription, with the name and the titles and the achievements of
Trajan.
The original inhabitants of the country were called Dacians, and their
warlike disposition got them into print very frequently. They are
discussed by Pliny and Herodotus as the bravest and most honourable of
all the barbarian tribes, and Thucydides alludes to their prowess on
horseback with the bow and arrow and the determination with which they
resisted the advance of the Persian king, Darius. About 325 B.C. Philip
of Macedon invaded Dacia and laid siege to one of the towns. That great
Grecian conqueror was about to give the signal for an assault upon
the walls, when the gates opened and a long line of priests, clad in
snow-white robes, with lyres in their hands, came forth and approached
the Macedonian camp with songs of peace. Impressed with the spectacle
and their confidence in him, Philip spared the citadel, married Meda,
the daughter of the king, and entered into a treaty of offence and
defence, which was greatly to his advantage in his future campaigns.
Even to-day the natives wear gold pieces bearing the busts of Philip
and Alexander the Great and their successors upon the Macedonian throne.
The Romans were driven out by the Goths and afterward by the Huns, and
for a thousand years the history of the country is one continuous and
confusing struggle against successive savage tribes, which marched both
east and west, going and coming between Europe and Asia. The high road
between the continents led over Roumanian soil, and the trail is now
followed very closely by the railway between Budapest and Constanza,
the principal port of Roumania upon the Black Sea.
Constantine the Great introduced Christianity, and by the year 360 A.D.
Dacia was one of the most thoroughly civilized parts of Christendom,
but there was no peace for the people until they obtained their present
government. For century after century no settled authority seems to
have existed in the country, which was the shuttle-cock of the rival
sovereigns of Russia, Hungary, Poland, and Turkey. Peter the Great took
the country under his protection, and Catherine the Great soon after
her accession began to prepare the Roumanians for annexation to Russia.
She was not able to carry out her designs, because Austria had become
restive at the rapid expansions of Russia in her direction, and it was
solely to pacify Austrian fears that Russia in 1774 consented to place
Moldavia and Wallachia under the protectorate of the sultan of Turkey.
In that relation the people lived until the great revolution of 1848,
which, sweeping over Europe, aroused the national spirit among the
Roumanians and revived their pride in their ancient origin, their
native language, their literature and their history. The wealthier
families, the land owners, called boyards, as in Russia, sent their
young men to the universities of Germany and France, where they
developed ideas of liberty and patriotism and came home to educate
the people. The same spirit aroused the neighbouring nations to
civil liberty and advocated independence from Russia and Turkey, and
Roumanian patriots offered their lives as a sacrifice for the freedom
of their country. The revolutionary leaders, however, were compelled to
flee, but proclaimed the grievances of their country wherever they were
scattered and awakened practical sympathy in France and in England and
wherever the friends of liberty were found.
The Crimean war gave them a chance to escape from the control of both
the principal participants in that great struggle, and one of the
articles in the treaty of peace guaranteed the autonomy of the two
provinces along the northern bank of the Danube. This action was soon
followed by a mutual agreement between Wallachia and Moldavia to unite
as a single state under a single government with a foreign prince, a
member of some reigning family of Europe, as their king. In 1859 they
both elected Col. Alexander Couza as their “hospodar,” or lord, who
assumed the throne as Alexander John I, Prince of Roumania.
Couza was a failure. He did not please anybody, and in 1866 was forced
to abdicate in a dramatic manner. The incident was repeated almost
in detail twenty years after at Sofia, capital of the neighbouring
kingdom, when Prince Alexander of Bulgaria was compelled to resign
his throne. On the night of Feb. 23, 1866, a party of army officers,
members of the national assembly, and leading citizens of Roumania
entered the palace, forced open the door of the prince’s bedroom and
demanded his abdication. The document had already been prepared, and
when the prince was handed a pen wet with ink he signed it promptly.
He was allowed to dress and pack a few necessities for travelling, was
placed in a carriage and driven by relays of horses to the nearest
railway station, where he was shipped off to Paris, and Roumania saw
him no more.
A provincial government was organized, a national assembly was called
and proceeded to elect the Count of Flanders, younger brother of the
late King Leopold of Belgium, as hospodar. The sultan protested,
and the Count of Flanders declined the honour. Prince Charles of
Hohenzollern, a member of the royal family of Prussia, was chosen in
his stead and the choice was unanimously ratified by a vote of the
whole people. Again the neighbouring nations remonstrated, but Bismarck
sent for Prince Charles, who was then a colonel of dragoons in the
Prussian army, and advised him to hurry to Bucharest in disguise,
saying:
“If you fail, you will at any rate have a pleasant reminiscence for the
rest of your life.”
One month later Prince Charles appeared at Bucharest and was received
with great enthusiasm. He had slipped through Austria in disguise.
Prince Charles was proclaimed ruler of Roumania on his twenty-seventh
birthday. His father was the head of one of the non-reigning branches
of the Hohenzollern family of Prussia, and a cousin of Kaiser Wilhelm
the Great. His grandmother was a Bonaparte. He was educated at Dresden
and had served for several years in a crack regiment of Prussian
cavalry. He was a personal favourite at the courts of Vienna, Berlin,
St. Petersburg, and Paris. He was a man of broad ideas, accurate
judgment, and keen intelligence.
The first act of the new prince was to call a convention to revise
the constitution, which was liberalized and gave the Roumanians a
free press, free speech, free religion, free compulsory education and
other rights and privileges. And its provisions have been recognized
consistently in relation to the Jews, whose commercial supremacy
and success have aroused the jealousy of the less enterprising and
intelligent natives, as in Russia, and has made them the object of the
most cruel persecution to which that race has been subjected in recent
years. There have been numerous conspiracies and intrigues against the
authority of Prince Charles, but he has grown in strength with years,
and in 1906 celebrated the fortieth anniversary of his reign amid
universal rejoicings and unanimous expressions of confidence.
During his reign he has distinguished himself as a military commander
as well as a statesman. He supported the Russian army with great skill
and courage in the war with Turkey in 1877–78. On March 26, 1881,
Roumania proclaimed herself a kingdom, with the consent of the Powers,
and the prince was recrowned King Carol I.
The crown that was placed upon his head was made of iron from the
Turkish cannon which he had personally captured at the battle of
Plevna. Since that date Roumania has made constant progress in wealth
and civilization, and although the king has remained childless, the
people have cordially accepted his nephew, Prince Ferdinand, as heir to
the throne, and the latter has strengthened his claims for popularity
by marrying the Princess Marie, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg
and Gotha, a granddaughter of Queen Victoria.
Queen Elizabeth of Roumania is probably the most accomplished and
intellectual of all the royal women of Europe. She speaks, reads, and
writes six languages fluently, and has written poems in four. She is
a poetess of no mean ability and her stories and essays have been
awarded a high place in European literature. They have been translated
into all the modern languages and have been read by the people of
every civilized land. A book of maxims, entitled “The Thoughts of
a Queen,” was granted a medal of honour by the French Academy. She
has published more than thirty books and has contributed hundreds of
articles to magazines. She has shown unusual skill in literary research
in connection with Roumanian legends and folk-lore. She has written an
opera entitled “Master Manole,” which has been successfully presented
in Munich and other cities of Europe. She is a brilliant pianist
and was a favourite pupil of Rubinstein and Clara Schumann. She is
equally accomplished as an organist and frequently conducts orchestral
concerts in the music hall of the palace at Bukharest. She has composed
symphonies and other orchestral pieces. She plays the harp gracefully,
and has adapted the gypsy melodies of her country to that instrument,
frequently calling attention to their similarity to the ancient
melodies for the harp in Ireland.
Queen Elizabeth is also an accomplished artist. She has painted several
pictures of recognized merit and has done miniatures of many of her
friends on ivory. She is skilful with a needle, in embroidery and in
lacemaking, and has introduced both arts among the peasant women of
Roumania. She has also introduced the silk worm and has persuaded the
government to plant hundreds of thousands of mulberry trees throughout
the country. She has founded schools, opera houses, hospitals, asylums
of various sorts, training homes for nurses, and a home for women
of education who have lost their money. Much of her time is devoted
to charity and in organizing and directing both military and civil
hospitals and other institutions.
Although the national religion is the orthodox Greek, and King Carol,
her husband, made a public profession of that faith when he was crowned
in 1866, Queen Elizabeth was excused from doing so at the time of their
marriage in 1869, and has continued to be an earnest and active member
of the Lutheran congregation in Bukharest, for which she erected a
modest but appropriate house of worship at her own expense. However,
she does not intrude her faith upon others and participates in the
religious festivals of the people without the slightest reserve. They
know that she is a Protestant and that she recognizes the claims of
their own faith and always remembers that she is the queen of an
orthodox Greek population.
Those who know her well say that she never wastes a moment, and she
keeps many assistants busy looking out for the poor, finding employment
for those who need it and serving the interests of the Roumanian
people. Although Bukharest has the reputation of being a very immoral
city, there has never been a scandal in the court; her ladies in
waiting and maids of honour have always been women of exemplary lives,
and their devotion to her is remarkable. Her sweet disposition, her
generous heart, and her anxiety for the welfare of her subjects are
universally recognized, and it is said that no one has even known her
who has not loved her.
Queen Elizabeth is better known throughout the world by her nom de
plume of “Carmen Sylva,” and many people who have read her charming
lyrics have been ignorant of the fact that they were written by a
queen. The peasants of Roumania call her “Mamma Regina.” She is now
sixty-seven years old, short in stature, a matronly figure, a bright
complexion, and pure white hair. Her features are small, her profile is
regular Greek; her lips are thin; her eyes are blue, and her forehead
is high. She usually brushes her hair straight over a roll and coiled
at the back of her head in the old-fashioned way. On formal occasions
she appears in royal robes; when she goes out among the people in
the country she usually wears the national dress, which pleases them
immensely, and while she is at home and employed among her multifarious
and often distracting duties she dresses in plain black with a
white linen collar. Her gowns and her hats are seldom at the height
of fashion, and most of the wives of the boyards, the land-owning
aristocracy of Roumania, spend more for gowns and jewels than she. On
state occasions she wears a crown that once was worn by Josephine, the
unhappy empress of Napoleon I, and she owns a string of pearls that was
also worn by Josephine, to whom her husband’s great-grandmother was
related.
Notwithstanding her unqualified popularity among her own subjects, her
brilliant success in everything she has undertaken, and the respect
and esteem in which she is universally held by the royal families of
Europe, “Carmen Sylva” has had a very sad life, and when her face is at
rest one can recognize the effect sorrow has had upon her. The saddest
thoughts that come into her mind are regrets for her childlessness. A
babe was born to her after she had been three years upon the throne,
and she called her Marie. But the child lived only a few years and
their cradle has since then been empty. The royal palace at Bukharest
has known no greater sorrow.
Queen Elizabeth is the daughter of the Prince van Wied, whose ancestors
held for several centuries one of the most noble and picturesque
castles upon the banks of the Rhine. Her mother was the eldest daughter
of the duke of Nassau, sister of the late queen of Sweden, and of the
present duke of Luxenburg. Her aunt is the venerable Grand Duchess
Helena, widow of Grand Duke Michael of Russia.
The queen’s childhood was full of sadness because of the illness of
her father and her only brother, for both of whom she was nurse and
companion. The boy was afflicted with an incurable disease from birth,
but had a brilliant mind and lingered on earth until he was fourteen
or fifteen years old. Elizabeth’s life was wrapped up in his, for they
were never separated until his death. She has written the pathetic
story in lines that bleed. After the death of her father and brother
she made the tour of Europe with her mother, and visited several of the
courts of her royal relatives, but at a hotel in Cologne she accepted
a proposal of marriage from her future husband, Prince Carol of
Hohenzollern, then a colonel in the Prussian army, who had been elected
king of Roumania a few months previous and had gone to Bukharest in
disguise to accept the crown. Their courtship was very brief and
unromantic. “Carmen Sylva” once told the story to Helene Vacaresco,
one of her ladies-in-waiting, and it is worth repeating.
“One day at Cologne,” she said, “where we had gone to spend a few hours
and listen to a Beethoven festival, we met, by accident, the reigning
prince of Roumania, Prince Charles of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen. We were
staying that afternoon at the Hotel du Nord, which can be seen as the
train crosses the Cologne station--I never pass on my way to Germany
without remembering vividly every word of the interview there which
settled my fate. I was very glad to meet the prince of Roumania again,
as he had been much talked about in my presence of late, and I knew he
had won his way to the throne among political perils almost as great
as the perils of war. He had crossed Austria in disguise, because the
Austrian government had objected strongly to his election.
“In the small garden of the Hotel du Nord, where the beautiful towers
of the cathedral threw their shadows upon us, I poured eager questions
into his ears without even casting a glance at his refined and regular
features, and he patiently answered every one of my inquiries. He told
me about his difficult task, and about the exotic country that had
become his own, his wide plains and savage mountains, its white-clad
peasantry, frugal, grave, and endowed with weird powers of untaught
eloquence and poetry. He spoke long and well, while I listened
breathlessly, rapt in astonishment and delight. He described the great
masters of the land, those boyards, cultivated yet barbarous in mind
and customs, whose souls were alive with the blended charm of the
Byzantine influence, and the hot blood of old Latin descent. I envied
the young sovereign who had taken up a sceptre whose maintenance
required as firm a grasp as a sword, and I said to him, openly: ‘You
are a happy man.’
“‘And the concert?’ asked my mother as we went up to our rooms. ‘You
were so impatient to go to the concert before we met the prince.’
“‘The concert?’ I repeated in utter amazement. ‘I had forgotten all
about the concert! Oh, mother, you can’t guess how deeply interesting,
how thrilling is the conversation of the prince of Roumania, and how I
envy him his beautiful task! Just imagine, he rules a nation quite new
to the world, but, at the same time, ancient in blood and history; and
he has to understand them and to make them happy. A splendid mission,
indeed!’
“‘Well, my child, that task, that mission, might be yours also. The
prince of Roumania wants to marry you. He has come here with the sole
purpose of meeting you. This is no chance encounter, as you believe.
You have but one word to say.’
“I remained perfectly bewildered for a few seconds; then, as if urged
on by the resistless impulse of my destiny, I answered:
“‘Yes, I will marry him. I will help him and follow him to that
wonderful land.’
“Half an hour afterward the prince of Hohenzollern came up to our
private sitting room. He kissed my hand as he entered, and my lips
trembled timidly for one moment on his bowed forehead. Then he knew
that he was my accepted future husband. This time he did all the
talking himself; I was abashed and silent, but still intent on his
every word. Not one syllable of love, not one stray compliment, was
uttered during those hours whose meaning has since thrown a light over
my whole existence. Ours was no love marriage, but it was a union based
on self-devotion, duty, and a fervent desire to do our best toward each
other and toward the nation that I already loved. That very evening the
prince went back to Roumania; he was to return in three weeks, and then
take me back with him as his wife.”
Helene Vacaresco who, as I have said, has been a lady in waiting to
Queen Elizabeth for many years, and is her authorized biographer,
commenting upon her usefulness and devotion to her subjects, says:
“From the moment of her arrival in her new country to this hour, her
life has been a constant effort, a constant labour of love on behalf of
her people. Patiently and without ceasing she listens to the throbbing
of their veins, to the wants and aspirations of a race she has tried so
hard to understand that she has almost become a Roumanian herself.
“When she reached the banks of the Danube, when before her dazzled
sight white-clad peasants made their appearance, wearing carved silver
knives in their belts and big peacock feathers on their high fur caps;
when in brilliant costumes the women rushed forth to meet her, veils
thin as the mountain mists floating around their proud features, and
distaffs trembling on their bosoms; when the gayly attired village
beauties danced the national dances before her to the sound of the
rude violin; when disheveled and ragged tziganes played tunes a
thousand years old, yet fresh with the eternal youth of innocence, then
Elizabeth believed her own life would be like an eternal pastorale.
And at once she gave her heart to the rustic crowds whose welcome
was showered upon her, who blessed her winning smile and her ready
curiosity to learn more about them and their village homes. No one
will ever know or appreciate the whole extent of the labour that from
morning to eve made her stoop toward the soil from which she drew the
secrets of the race, or raise her head to the sky whence faith and
inspiration descended upon her sacred toil.”
Queen Elizabeth and her ladies in waiting spend the summer months at
Castle Polesch, at Sinaia, about sixty miles from Bukharest in the
Carpathian Mountains. It is an imposing but gloomy edifice of gray
stone and red brick, situated in a wild forest, and looks like a very
ancient, although it is a very modern castle. It has been surrounded
by villas and hotels which attract the wealthy classes from Bukharest
society.
The lack of an heir to the throne of Roumania was supplied by the
selection of Prince Ferdinand, a nephew of King Carol, and a son of
Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern. He was born August 24, 1865, was
proclaimed crown prince of Roumania in 1889, was married in 1893 to the
Princess Marie, daughter of the Duke of Albany, and a granddaughter of
Queen Victoria. They have two sons, Carol, born in 1893, and Nicholas,
born in 1903, and three daughters.
The good people of Bukharest take great pride in their city and they
call it “the Paris of the Balkans.” So far as gayety and glamour and
sin and wickedness are concerned the term applies. It might be said
also that the extravagance of everybody who has money to spend, the
exorbitant prices that are imposed upon strangers for everything they
eat and drink and do, the giddy costumes and conduct of the feminine
patrons of the cafés, and the gay crowds that pervade the streets from
the time the lamps are lighted until they are extinguished, are all
quite up to the Paris standard. Men of experience assert that Bukharest
is a wickeder city than Budapest, and that is saying a good deal. Every
stranger is surprised to find such handsome residences, such luxurious
hotels, such imposing public buildings and such fine mercantile houses
and business blocks in the capital of so primitive a country as
Roumania, and there is a striking contrast between the city and the
country life in that little kingdom. Outside of the larger cities the
peasants cling tenaciously to their ancient customs and costumes and
habits of life. No country in Europe, unless it be Dalmatia, has so
much of what artists call “local colour.”
In the villages on market days you can see crowds of peasants, both
men and women, wearing the national dress, which is artistic and
attractive. In Bukharest, however, the women wear Paris gowns and Paris
hats, and the hobble skirt is as common these days as it is in any city
of Europe. The extravagance of the people is seen on every block. The
cafés are numerous, and they are always crowded; the public vehicles
are smarter than any you see in London, or Paris, or New York, and
they are drawn by magnificent Russian horses, black as ebony, with
long, flowing manes and tails. The coachmen wear a gay livery--a long
tunic of velvet, generally blue or black and heavily embroidered with
gold braid. Nearly all of them are Russian exiles. They belong to a
dissenting religious sect called the Skoptski, which is proscribed
by the orthodox Greek Church. But the cab charges are quite as high
as they are in New York, and twice as high as they are in Berlin. It
is asserted that there are more automobiles in Bukharest than in any
other European city in proportion to the population, and there are
taxicabs galore.
The hotels are as fine as any in Europe and their charges are higher
than those of Paris or New York. Everything is French--French cooks,
French waiters, French bills of fare--and French charges. A friend
who came straight to Bukharest from Monte Carlo and occupied similar
rooms at the most expensive of the hotels at both places asserts that
the charges at Bukharest were 15 and 25 per cent. higher than at Monte
Carlo.
One is surprised at the number of jewellery stores and the gorgeous
displays of diamonds and other precious stones, which are pointed out
as evidence of the extravagance of the people, and it goes without
saying that merchants would not offer such things for sale unless
there was a demand for them. We did not have an opportunity to see the
women of Bukharest in full dress, but from the toilettes displayed
at the cafés and at other public places one can infer what might be
seen indoors on occasions of display. The Roumanian women are famous
for their dress and for their good looks. It has been said that they
combine the beauty of the Magyar, the grace of the Viennese, the style
of the Parisienne and the passion of the Neapolitan. They are said to
be brilliant conversationalists also, quick of perception and nimble
of wit. Most women of the upper class are educated at home by French
governesses, who do not contribute so much to their intellectual as to
their social attractions. As one broad-minded gentleman put it, “the
Roumanian girl is a natural flirt. She can’t help it, and her French
governess adds refinement to the art and makes her self-confident to
recklessness.”
It is not fair, to judge women or men upon a short acquaintance,
and, although the stranger who visits Bukharest for a few days must
necessarily carry away an impression of frivolity and extravagance, I
am very sure there must be an undercurrent of earnestness and goodness
where there is so much froth. The cafés are always open and one would
think that the people of Bukharest never go to bed. The population is
about the same as that of Washington, but there are ten times as many
street lamps, twenty times as many restaurants and cafés, and twice as
many theatres. The gambling houses are wide open, and it is said that
very high stakes prevail. The Roumanians are a nation of gamblers and
many Russians go to Bukharest to play. They find much to attract them
in other respects, and perhaps the reputation of the city has been
injured by visitors from other lands.
In Bukharest one can hear genuine Tzigany orchestras and genuine gypsy
music, of which that heard in London and New York is only a mild
imitation. In every restaurant and café there is a band--sometimes only
two or three and sometimes a dozen musicians--constantly playing those
ravishing rag-time barbaric melodies that have been conceived in the
semi-savage brains of some gypsy genius. Occasionally a Tzigany girl
sings to the accompaniment of the orchestra, wild, weird strains of the
native music, which cannot be transplanted without losing its force and
fascination. While we cannot understand the words, the meaning of the
music is as plain as if it were written in English capital letters.
The Roumanian language is more like the Italian than the Russian,
and has a Latin origin, because the population of the country is
descended from the Roman legions that were sent up in the year 104
A.D. by the Emperor Trajan to hold the barbarians at bay and the
name of the country is properly “Roman-ia.” It is a liquid language
and flows freely off the tongues of the people, who talk faster than
any Frenchman you ever saw and gesticulate like the Italians. If any
one should hold the hands of a Roumanian woman she would become dumb
instantly.
The architecture of the business section is solid and regular, and
would remind you of Frankfort, or Leipzig, or Dresden, or any city
of similar size on the European continent, but the shop windows are
more like those of Paris. We were told that the merchants put nearly
all their goods in their windows, and that may be true, but they
certainly arrange them with a great deal of taste. There is a number of
newspapers, all intensely partisan, including a humorous publication
of merit. Its cartoons are equal to those of any of the German funny
papers.
There are two universities in the country, and the government pays
39,000,000 francs ($7,800,000) for the support of the schools.
Education is free and compulsory, but there is a lamentable lack of
schools in the rural districts, so that the purpose of the educational
provision in the constitution is not fully carried out. Nearly 70 per
cent. of the young men who report for military service can neither read
nor write and only a little more than half the school population is in
actual attendance.
The University of Bukharest has 3,443 students and the University
of Jassy has 629. There are schools for engineering, agriculture,
forestry, and art. There are various technical schools in the larger
cities, all of them under the care of the general government, and
they are well attended. The administration of King Carol is as
thorough as the Germans in promoting technical education and in
introducing scientific theories into practice in municipal and national
administration. Many of the young men go to Paris or to Berlin for
post-graduate courses, and several of them have become distinguished in
science, literature, music, and art. The Roumanian taste for painting
is as bizarre as that for music. The pictures by native artists in the
art stores and galleries of Bukharest are vivid in colour and action
and daring in their conceptions.
There is a good deal of politics in Roumania, and partisanship usually
encourages radical measures during political campaigns. But King Carol
is more than a figurehead. He takes a deep interest in diplomatic and
legislative affairs, and has recently concluded negotiations for an
alliance with Turkey, Austria, and Germany against the other Balkan
states, England, and Greece. Although Roumania has the same religion,
neither the government nor the people have much political sympathy with
their neighbours in Bulgaria, Macedonia, Servia, and Greece, and in
case of war between Greece and Turkey, Roumania would undoubtedly be
found on the side of the latter. The influence of Austria and Germany
is much greater in Roumania than that of any other nation, which is not
unnatural, as the king is a German, and a near relative of the kaiser.
The Roumanian army, for its size, is often said to be the best in
Europe. The king is a trained soldier and has taken an active personal
interest in its organization and equipment. But the people grumble at
the expense. The standing army for a nation of 6,000,000 people here
is precisely as large as that of the United States, with a population
of 80,000,000, not including 200,000 reserves, who are paid full wages
for two months in the year, when they are in camp. The army of Roumania
costs more than $15,000,000 a year, which is almost equal to $2.50 of
taxation per capita upon every man, woman and child in the country.
Roumania is fortunate in having unusually rich resources. The wide
plains in the valley of the Danube produce enormous crops of grain and
are cultivated with American machinery. Several of the manufacturers
of agricultural implements in the United States have branch houses,
whose sales mount into the millions every year. Roumania is the most
profitable market for American agricultural implements in Europe
excepting Russia and Hungary. The farms are large and are owned by a
landed aristocracy--there are no orders of nobility in the country--who
live in a feudal state and have armies of retainers born and brought
up on the soil they cultivate. The land owners are called boyards--the
same term is used in Russia--and the profits they make from their lands
are expended in maintaining handsome and extravagant establishments in
Bukharest.
There are enormous flocks of sheep also, mounting into millions,
and immense herds of cattle scattered among the foothills and on
the mountain slopes. The sheep and cattle barons of Roumania have
residences in Bukharest also, and spend a great deal of their money
there. Few of them ever try to live on their ranches, which are in
charge of overseers, and they do nothing to improve the condition
of their labourers or to provide them with schools or even decent
habitations. The farm villages throughout the country are in a
primitive condition--worse than those of Ireland. They have not
been improved for centuries, but the peasants are not unhappy or
discontented and they do not know that their condition could be
bettered. The Greek priests keep them in order and exercise a similar
influence to that of the Roman Catholic clergy in Ireland and Italy,
and while they have the credit of being honest and earnest, most of
them are uneducated and some are actually illiterate. I was told that
there was scarcely a hundred university men among the entire clergy of
the orthodox Greek church in Roumania, although there are nearly seven
thousand churches, six bishops, two archbishops and a patriarch, who is
at the head of the spiritual system of the country.
There is plenty of petroleum of a high grade and two or three German
corporations are refining it, but the exports are small owing to the
inability of local refiners to compete with the Standard Oil Company.
The market is practically limited to Roumania and the adjacent
countries. Several years ago the Standard Oil Company tried to obtain
control of the Roumanian wells in order to get a more complete command
of the market in the East, in competition with the Russian producers
at Baku; but the Germans had more influence with the government and
kept the Americans out. There is a disposition among business men here
to regret the outcome of that transaction, because they believe the
Standard Oil Company would have made a great deal more petroleum than
the Germans have ever done, and would have contributed in a larger
degree to the prosperity of the country. The government officials
sympathize with this view of the case, and if the Standard Oil Company
should again attempt to secure control of the industry in Roumania it
would have the encouragement of the administration and the business
organizations. The German refiners are doing practically nothing in the
way of improvement and expansion, and are actually letting their plants
run down.
In no country has the Jewish race suffered more brutal and relentless
persecution than in Roumania, and as elsewhere it has been more from
economic than from religious motives. It is true that synagogues have
been plundered and polluted; laws have been passed and regulations have
been framed to hinder believers from performing their rites of worship.
On holidays, Good Friday, and anniversaries of the saints, fanatical
mobs have often attacked quarters in which Jewish families have lived,
but these have been mere incidents in a general campaign that has
continued for a thousand years for the purpose of disabling the Jew
from competition with his Christian rivals in commerce, industry, and
the professions. That is the secret of all the Jewish persecution in
Russia to-day and everywhere else that this remarkable race suffers
from discrimination under the laws and the prejudices of society.
There is no doubt that Jews were among the earliest inhabitants of
Roumanian territory. After the destruction of Jerusalem and the
dispersion of its inhabitants by the Roman Emperor Titus many families
found their way into what are now Roumania, Hungary and Austria, and
many more followed the Roman legions, who occupied this country a
hundred years after the Christian era, and settled in different places
favourable to their trade. They were treated with favour in early
days, many became rich and influential, but shared the lot of the
whole population which was subjected to the caprice and the tyranny
of the semi-barbarous rulers who succeeded to the throne. Jews were
conspicuous in the professions as well as in finance and trade; they
often occupied high places under the government and were honoured
with the confidence of kings as well as that of the public generally.
They played an important rôle in state affairs, but all men of wealth
suffered blackmail in those days and were the prey of greedy and
impecunious princes. It was not until the development of civilization
in the eighteenth century that the Jewish population was singled out
for special attention. Then they were made objects of insult and
persecution, but it was not until the nineteenth century that they
were deprived of any of the rights that other men enjoyed in commerce
and trade. Jews were allowed to live in all the cities, villages, and
market towns and to engage in all the crafts and lines of commerce.
They were permitted to join the guilds of artisans and merchants on an
equal footing with Christians, and their skill, ability, and sagacity
enabled them to acquire special privileges, favours and influence.
They engaged in all of the professions; they were physicians, lawyers,
bankers, merchants, manufacturers, distillers, goldsmiths, and their
representatives were found in every occupation.
For various reasons during the earlier part of the nineteenth century
the Jews were accused of crimes and conspiracies, and in 1821 a
tremendous storm broke out against them. Their homes were pillaged and
burned, their business houses were looted; men, and even women and
children, were stoned in the streets, and no protection was given them
in the courts or by the police. Taxes were doubled; they were forbidden
to engage in certain trades or live in certain towns and cities; they
were compelled to wear a distinctive costume; they were arrested on
trivial pretexts and compelled to pay heavy fines, and property owners
were prohibited from renting shops and stores and houses to them. But
when the Revolution of 1848 broke out the Jews took an active part in
it, contributed liberally to the cause of liberty and were among the
leaders of the movement which accomplished so much for the freedom of
the people. Their services were recognized at the time, but no sooner
was the kingdom of Roumania recognized in 1866 than a methodical and
thorough system of persecution was adopted, which has continued until
the present day. It has been intended to drive the Jewish population,
which numbers about a quarter of a million, from Roumania, to deprive
them of their property and savings and to relieve the native members
of the professions and occupations from rivals with whom they cannot
compete. The motive, as I have said, is purely business, and religion
has not been offered even as a pretext.
One of the first acts of King Carol when he came to the throne of
Roumania in 1866 was to provide a constitution which guarantees civil
and religious equality and freedom to all citizens of Roumania; free
compulsory education, the right of petition, the right of public
meetings, and specifically provides that the difference of religious
creeds shall not be used as a ground for exclusion or incapacity in the
enjoyment of civil and political rights or the exercise of any of the
professions, trades, or industries.
These provisions were still further guaranteed by the powers of Europe
in a treaty signed by all of them at Berlin at the close of the war
between Russia and Turkey in 1878. Article thirty-four of that treaty
specifically mentions the Jews. This treaty proclaimed the equality of
all creeds before the law for the special purpose of regulating the
Jewish question in Roumania, but its provisions were promptly nullified
on the pretext that all persons living in Roumania who did not profess
the Christian religion were aliens and therefore the provisions did not
apply to them.
This theory has been the basis of all legislation and regulation
in Roumania since that time. The Jewish subjects of Roumania who
had assisted in the revolution for liberty, who had been cordially
commended by their neighbours and their king, disappeared from
existence with a stroke of the pen. Thenceforth there were no Roumanian
Jews, and all Jews who happened to be in Roumania were declared outlaw
aliens, not subject to protection.
To emphasize this action a series of raids upon Jewish settlements was
organized, and the hunting down of the Jews began. The most brutal
atrocities were committed. Thousands of families were driven from their
homes, and in many cases their houses were burned over their heads.
These raids were led by officials and policemen and soldiers, and for
months they were general throughout Roumania. The barbarities shocked
the Powers of Europe to such an extent that energetic remonstrances
were addressed to the Roumanian government, and a change of the
ministry occurred. But while the violence was suspended, except at
intervals, the object of driving the Jews from Roumania was attempted
by legislative measures.
The guarantee of protection in the Berlin treaty has never been
recognized. Every Jew has been declared an alien, although his
ancestors may have lived in the country for twenty centuries. No Jew
can be naturalized except by act of parliament; they are prohibited
from holding government positions; they are not allowed to organize
corporations or joint stock companies; they are shut out of the learned
professions; they cannot be bankers or brokers, agents or forwarders,
or engage in any similar classes of business; they cannot engage in
manufacturing, and cannot work in factories; they cannot be employed
upon railroads; and there is a law providing that no one shall employ a
Jew without also employing two Roumanians, which practically prohibits
them from earning wages in the small industries and on small farms.
Jews are prohibited from owning farm land, and the renting of land to
a Jew is forbidden. No Jew can keep a drug store, or be a veterinary
surgeon; they cannot be employed in the sanitary service of the state
or municipality; they cannot be received as free patients in hospitals,
except in cases of great urgency; no Jew can peddle merchandise in
Roumania, or sell liquor, or tobacco, and nearly every other mercantile
occupation is closed to them.
The free schools are for Roumanians only; Jews must pay tuition fees,
and even then they cannot be admitted if Christian children want
their places. A law passed in 1898 debars Jews from all professional
and agricultural schools and admits them only to schools of commerce
and of the arts and trades to the number of one fifth of the average
attendance, and then they must pay tuition, where Christian students
are admitted free. Where they have founded schools of their own they
are hampered with the most exasperating regulations and are required to
keep open on Saturdays and on other Jewish holidays.
Although the Jewish population is not recognized by law, the young men
are compelled to serve their time in the army, just as if they had a
legal existence, but no Jew can be an officer; they are excluded from
pensions, and in barracks and camp they are required to perform menial
service, to clean the streets and the closets and to carry off the
garbage.
A Jew has no standing in court; his testimony is not accepted; when he
is a defendant he has no right to employ counsel or question a jury.
It is not necessary to recite other features of the peculiar laws and
regulations which are intended to drive the Jews from Roumania by
making it impossible for them to earn a living there. It is sufficient
to say that a Jew is not recognized as having a legal existence; he is
an object of persecution as well as contempt and has no redress for any
ill treatment he may suffer in body, mind or estate.
These persecutions have driven a large proportion of the Jewish people
from Roumania to the United States and other countries. Emigration
is their only hope, and the number of arrivals at the ports of the
United States in 1902 caused Secretary Hay to call the attention of the
civilized world to the inhuman treatment of that race in Roumania by
making a formal protest. The pretext for this unusual action was the
large number of emigrants that had been driven to this country under
conditions which rendered them unfit for citizens of the United States
and were likely to make them a burden upon public and private charity.
Secretary Hay’s protest caused a tremendous sensation throughout the
diplomatic world, and was discussed everywhere, but no official action
was taken by any European government in regard to the matter, and
the only beneficial effect was to direct the eyes of the world upon
Roumania and thus cause a cessation of the persecutions for the time
being. Since then the treatment of the Jewish subjects of Roumania has
not been so cruel as before, although no law has been repealed and no
restriction has been modified. The tide of immigration has recently
been turned from the United States to Turkey, where the government
has invited Jewish colonists to settle in Asia Minor, Mesopotamia,
Syria, and other parts of the empire. And there are large schemes of
benevolence to transplant as many as can find room upon the unoccupied
lands of Turkey.
Notwithstanding all this persecution, the Jews of Roumania seem to be
flourishing. They are still the leading business men of that country,
and in the coast cities they show evidence of prosperity.
A large business in the way of grain exporting is done at Constanza
and other ports. All the export grain goes out that way, but more
than half the crop is sent up the Danube on barges to Budapest, which
manufactures almost as much flour as Minneapolis.
The railway from Budapest via Bukharest to the Black Sea is the
shortest route from central Europe to Constantinople, although it is
necessary for passengers to change to a steamer at Constanza. The
steamers are fast and comfortable, sailing promptly in connection with
the trains three nights in the week, so that the journey can be made
without delay.
South of Constanza are two or three Bulgarian ports which also handle
a good deal of grain, which is shipped in bags, and not in bulk, as
in the United States, by various lines of steamers to Marseilles and
Genoa. The Black Sea region probably exports more wheat than any other
part of the world except the United States and the Argentine Republic.
The Bulgarians have a summer resort on the Black Sea called Varna,
which is well patronized by the wealthier classes, and is said to be
very attractive. The king of Bulgaria has a villa there.