The Government of Roumania--The Parliament--Lively elections--The
batiusi and their big sticks--Military picnics at
election times--“General Post” after an election--Party
handwriting--Natural selection circumscribed for postal
officials--The army--A soldier’s life not always a happy
one--Military marketers, nurses, and spring-cleaners--The
accession celebrations--On parade--The opposition goes into
mourning and enjoys a happy day--Threatening demonstrations which
end happily--A gallant army--If stiff on parade, the Roumanian
soldier is “one of the best.”
The Government of Roumania is a limited monarchy, the present King,
Ferdinand, being the nephew of the late King Carol. The Salic law is
in force, and so no woman may ascend the throne. In default of a male
heir, a king may be chosen amongst the royal families of Western Europe.
The Parliament consists of the Senate and the Chamber of Deputies,
which latter corresponds to our House of Commons. The pay of a cabinet
minister in pre-war times was about 30,000 francs (£1200), and the
Deputies are also remunerated for their services to the extent of 20
francs a day while Parliament is sitting. The constituency is divided
into four groups or “colleges,” as they are called.
The first college consists of citizens having an income of over £150.
The second college is composed of those with an income ranging from £50
to £150. The third includes tradespeople, who pay the State from £4
upwards annually. The fourth college comprises everyone who pays taxes,
however small they may be. The Senate is elected by the first two
colleges for a period of eight years, the Deputies by all four colleges
for a term of four years.
The chief qualification of a Senator is the possession of an income of
£400 to £500 a year. He must also be over forty years of age. Deputies
must be over twenty-five, must be Roumanians either by birth or
naturalisation, and must live in Roumania.
The constitution of Roumania has been compiled with great regard both
to justice and the liberties of the people.
The Greek Church is the State Church, but, although the Jews are under
many disabilities, there is freedom of worship for all sects. Freedom
of speech is permitted, and no restraint is placed on public meetings.
There is also complete liberty of the press (which is, unfortunately,
too often abused). Capital punishment has been abolished except under
martial law. The property of the peasantry is inviolable. Primary
instruction is gratuitous and compulsory. Such are some of the
principal provisions of the constitution.
It is always very amusing when a general election takes place. Both
Conservatives and Liberals are fully occupied in canvassing beforehand,
and meetings are everywhere in full swing. When the election day dawns,
then the fun begins. Polling booths are established in different parts
of the town, and they are open as early as 7 a.m. That elector is wise
who goes early to record his vote. Inside the polling station there is,
besides the recording official, an agent for each side, Conservative
and Liberal, who narrowly scrutinises each voter as he appears, and
sees to it that he records his vote properly. Trickery is very often
practised, so it behoves each one to be on the alert. By some means or
other, names of people long dead are inserted in the register, and, as
a man remarked in my hearing at one election, “In my father’s lifetime
he never had a vote, but now he is dead they are giving him one.”
As has been said, it is well to record one’s vote in good time--that
is, if one wishes to avoid the _batiusi_. Electioneering agents in
Roumania do not always rely upon the _suaviter in modo_, but freely
adopt the _fortiter in re_. They employ gangs of men (known as
_batiusi_) who, armed with big sticks, are posted at the entrances
to the polling booths, frankly for the purpose of intimidating those
who refuse to vote as their party wishes. Under such circumstances
it is not to be wondered at if feeling sometimes runs very high and
the services of the military have to be called upon. In such a case
the troops line up before the polling booths, and every elector who
arrives carrying a stick, no matter how small or innocent-looking,
is gravely relieved of it before entering. If matters assume a very
threatening aspect and it is impossible for the troops to return to
barracks for the mid-day meal, large cauldrons of soup are brought down
to them. This is served out together with large pieces of bread, and
the soldiers seem rather to enjoy the little break in their monotonous
life, if it does not include the breaking of heads.
After the election, when the new Government is duly installed in
office, a clearance of the former officials takes place. One and all
are changed, even to the man who runs to the nearest café for the cup
of afternoon coffee. The incoming ministers and members of Parliament
have all a crowd of protégés, who also want their good time as long as
Parliament lasts. It is curious then on entering the post office, the
custom house, or any other public building, to find there entirely new
faces. It reminds one of the game of “General Post.”
Every change of Government is a signal for reform. Sometimes it is
merely reform in the literal sense of the word, as, for example, when
an incoming Government makes an attack upon the caligraphy taught
and practised in the schools. If the Liberals have adopted a sloping
style of writing, Conservatives upon assuming power are sure to insist
upon the re-formation of the characters and the setting of them up
in a perpendicular position. It is the party idea _in excelsis_, and
irresistibly recalls the difference of opinion of the Big-Endians and
the Little-Endians in _Gulliver’s Travels_ as to which end of the egg
should be broken.
Mentioning the post office just now reminds me of one strange rule in
force in that department. Post-office employees must only marry members
of the opposite sex who are also engaged in the post office. I could
scarcely credit this when I heard it, but a prominent official of the
post office assured me that it was the case.
THE ARMY
At the time of the accession of Prince Carol the army consisted of raw
levies unprovided with uniforms and in many cases armed only with pikes
and sabres. Indeed, so unsoldierlike was their appearance that they
were referred to as a “ragged band of gipsies.” Prince Carol (he was
not crowned king until after the battle of Plevna) found not only that
the army was wholly untrained, but that in numbers also it was totally
inadequate.
The sovereign immediately set to work to bring his forces up to date.
Universal compulsory service was at once introduced. German instructors
were brought into the country, and it is from this time that the story
of the organisation of the Roumanian army begins. The result has shown
what can be done, if only the right material is to hand.
The Roumanian soldier is a splendid fighting unit, his superb daring
and dash carry him through the most difficult places. In the numerous
campaigns of later years in which the Roumanian army has been engaged,
the courage and admirable soldierly qualities of the men have been
amply shown.
That King Carol was proud of his army, no one could doubt who watched
his face during the march past of the troops every 10th of May. He
rejoiced in the fact that it was owing to his own exertions that the
army was maintained in such a high state of efficiency. The standing
army when Roumania entered the Great War had a strength of 600,000 to
700,000 men, but with the reserves included a million trained men could
be counted upon.
The infantry were armed with German rifles--Mannlicher, I believe; and
the heavy guns used were from Krupp’s. Those presented to the army some
years ago by King Carol, to which I have elsewhere made reference,
were from the same source. However, after the beginning of the war
heavy orders for munitions were placed with Japan. An excellent medical
service was organised, composed of skilled surgeons and a highly
efficient staff.
General Averescu, who was first in command, is a fine strategist and
a born leader of men. It is to be regretted that party politics had
kept him absent for a time from a sphere of activity just when he
should have been well to the front. As a follower of Take Jonescu he
was looked on by the Liberals with disfavour, and not given any high
command; but immediately war broke out they were constrained to place
him in the post for which he was so well fitted. The position of
Commander-in-Chief of the army is, as everyone is aware, filled by King
Ferdinand.
As in all Continental countries, there is universal military service
in Roumania. All males are required to present themselves for military
service at any period they may choose between the ages of eighteen and
twenty-one. Formerly the duration of service was one year. It was later
reduced to six months. Young fellows of the better class are required
to supply their own uniforms, and if they elect to enter a cavalry
regiment they must provide their own horses.
Exemptions are only granted in cases of physical disablement, and it
has sometimes occurred that a peasant has cut off a couple of fingers
so that he may be disqualified. It is no wonder that such things will
happen, as the lot of the young peasants in garrison is not always
enviable. They are often badly clothed and badly fed, and their duties
are manifold. Of course they are liable to be called upon to act as
officers’ servants, a lieutenant having the right to one soldier’s
services, and a captain two. But such service is not by any means
understood in Roumania as it is in England. In the former country the
soldier servant has not only to look after his master, but also to do
all the household work. He goes to market and buys the provisions for
the day, takes the children to school, and performs the duties of a
maid-of-all-work. It is even a common occurrence for a lady living next
door to an officer’s family (when she is overwhelmed with work, such as
spring cleaning) to borrow the soldier for the day!
The Roumanian soldier on parade does not cut a good figure. He has not
the free, swinging step of our own soldiers. Both officers and men
march very stiffly, and have a somewhat wooden appearance.
During the lifetime of the late King Carol there was always a parade on
the 10th May (old style), the date of his accession to the throne. As
the troops marched past the royal box, one received an impression that
if a soldier in any one of the ranks should make a false step it would
cause a catastrophe--the whole row would fall one after another, just
like wooden soldiers.
Bucarest, by the way, is very gay on the 10th May, the Roumanian
colours--red, blue, and yellow--are to be seen everywhere. Triumphal
arches span the principal street, and pavilions are erected for the
royal family, the members of the diplomatic corps, and the principal
officials of state.
In King Carol’s time a Te Deum was always sung in the Metropole
(cathedral) at the beginning of the day. King Carol and Prince
Ferdinand then used to ride with their respective suites from the
church to the boulevard where the march past took place. One day the
Prince’s horse behaved very badly, and threw its rider as he was
leading his regiment past the royal box. The accident caused a great
sensation, but fortunately the Prince was not much injured.
After the parade the day was given up to amusements, and in the evening
the town was brilliantly illuminated. The illuminations were really
very fine, and did credit to the people who carried them out. It did
not always happen that everyone was contented and amiable on these
occasions, as very often that day was chosen by the opposition to make
demonstrations. Newspapers with a deep black border round them were
sold openly in the streets. This was meant as an indication of sorrow
at having a German king to rule over Roumania. If the opposition could
succeed in exciting the populace to carry out a demonstration against
the King and the Government of the day they were happy, and could
retire to bed in a much pleasanter frame of mind.
The operations of the opposition are generally a source of amusement.
If anything happens in Parliament to raise their ire, they immediately
hold meetings to protest. After the meetings a procession is formed,
the object being to proceed to the palace and lay their grievances
before the King. As, however, Roumanians never can keep silent, their
plans are always known beforehand, so when they arrive within a
certain distance of the palace they find all the approaches barred by
the police. A parley takes place, great excitement prevails for five
minutes, and then all quietly disperse.
If it is thought that the police will not be able to cope with the
disturbance, the soldiers are called out. They line up along the
principal streets with guns ready (one wonders if they are loaded).
Officers on horseback dash up and down giving orders, and there is
great excitement. Vague rumours are afloat, and one wonders what is
going to happen. It all looks very serious, but as time goes on it
becomes known that the demonstrators have gone another way, and somehow
one feels that the soldiers have been badly treated. After standing on
guard in the street for hours it must be disappointing that nothing
happens and they must quietly return to barracks.
Notwithstanding his stiffness the Roumanian soldier is a gallant
fighter--one of the best, and indeed the army was brought to a state of
great proficiency by the late King. He himself was a born soldier, and
led his men gallantly against their old oppressors the Turks when the
battle of Plevna was won.
The Roumanian national anthem is a fine martial air and was composed
by Eduard Hübsch. He, although of German birth, was a naturalised
Roumanian long resident in the country, and died some years ago at
Sinaia.