The land system--The Dominele or squirearchy--The simple life of the
peasants--The beginning of a revolt--A premature outbreak--The
countryside in flames--King Carol’s new guns first used on his
subjects--A village population exterminated--Terror in the town--I
go to church and am relieved to see Princess Marie there--The tale
of a sufferer--The priests and schoolmasters the instigators--The
peasants’ subterranean dwellings.
In former times the peasants received a plot of ground proportionate
to the number of cattle they owned, and also rights of grazing and
collecting fuel in the forests.
In 1864 a law was passed conferring on each peasant freehold property
according to the number of oxen he possessed, the man with no cattle
receiving the minimum number of acres.
The price of the land was paid to the landlord by the State and
recovered from the peasant in a certain number of instalments. On the
whole it was not a great boon, as the limited size of the farms, the
necessity for buying wood and paying for pasturage, prevented the
peasants from obtaining complete independence of the large proprietors
on whose estates they still had to work for payment in money or in kind.
Of course a good deal of grumbling went on. The peasant accused his
Dominele of allotting to him the worst pasture and other land on the
estate. He complained bitterly when, in the height of harvest, he was
obliged to leave his own crops in order to get in those of the squire.
The peasant paid no taxes, but instead he gave his services to the
State in road-making, drainage, etc., whenever he was called upon. The
improvidence of the peasants very often got them into the hands of the
Jews, who fortunately are by law unable to become proprietors of the
land.
In later years laws have been passed to improve the position of the
peasants, and the Agrarian Reform Law has this year been considered by
a Committee of the Chamber.
Under the Expropriation Law a large area had already been designated
for distribution to the peasants, whose ultimate well-being one may
confidently hope is now assured. There is still a pressing need for
good schools in the villages.
The usual wages of a peasant was in pre-war days one franc daily, out
of which he had to provide his food.
“Mamaliga,” a kind of bread made of maize, with a few fresh onions, or
a melon, constitutes the peasant’s frugal repast. Meat he rarely sees,
and as for drink, not only the peasantry, but indeed all classes of
Roumanians are remarkably abstemious. The only drink that the peasant
allows himself is a glass of _tzuica_ (a spirit distilled from plums)
after church on Sundays. In this mild dissipation the village priest
generally takes part, and he also acts as mediator should a slight
difference of opinion arise, which, it must be said, very seldom occurs.
Although the peasant is by nature of an amiable, indolent character,
still on occasion he may be aroused to a state of fury, either by
brooding over his real or fancied wrongs, or through the influence of
agitators. In such a state nothing is sacred to him, and a revolt of
the peasants once experienced is not easily forgotten.
Such a revolt occurred in 1907, when even we in Bucarest experienced
a very uneasy time. The peasants on a certain estate were in a very
restless, discontented state of mind, and this disaffection rapidly
spreading to neighbouring estates, almost the whole of the rural
population became involved in a very serious rising. A plot was
arranged to attack the estates of the landed proprietors during the
month of July, when, as is usually the case, they would be installed
with their families in their country residences for the summer months.
Luckily for them some premature development occurred and the trouble
began in May, so that only their property suffered, their families
being safe in Bucarest.
Every day dreadful stories were in circulation as to the doings of
the peasantry. We were told the most harrowing tales of how houses
were being wrecked, costly furniture burned, and even stock destroyed.
Travellers from the interior of the country related how they saw
flames rising to a great height in all directions, as one splendid
country-house after another was burnt to the ground. Woe betide any
unpopular land agent who was found near the scene! In very many cases
he was thrown into the flames. Troops were despatched into the interior
to restore order; but as most of the soldiers are themselves of the
peasant class, the authorities had to be very careful as to where
they sent them, as in the event of finding themselves among friends
or neighbours, the probability was that they would take sides with
the insurgents. This actually did happen in one district, where the
soldiers deserted their officer, leaving him to be shot down.
A strange example of the irony of fate was shown in the fact that some
guns of a new type which King Carol had shortly before presented to the
army were now used for the first time in shooting down his subjects.
The most terrible incident of the revolt was described to me by an
officer who was present. A certain village had long been known as a
hotbed of disaffection, and it was decided that an example should be
made of it. Roumanian villages consist as a rule of one long street
of simple little whitewashed cottages with outhouses in the rear, and
this particular village was of the usual character. The artillery
approached the village from opposite quarters, and with the new guns
raked the street from end to end, practically annihilating the whole
population--men, women, and children.
The constant fear of the authorities was that the mob in the capital
might join with the peasants. A regiment of infantry, fully equipped
with all the impedimenta of war, including some cannon and a few
ambulance wagons, was therefore paraded through the streets at regular
intervals in order to strike awe into the hearts of the people.
The cabarets were closed at an early hour, and suspected quarters
were patrolled all night. These measures proved effectual, and no
disturbances whatever took place in Bucarest.
The townspeople, however, were very nervous, and always ready to
believe the countless reports that were to be heard on every hand. I
was staying with some friends at the time, and my host returned home
late one evening, having made a round of most of the shops in search
of ammunition. His quest, he told us, was fruitless; not a single
cartridge was to be had; everything was sold out. Of course this
increased the anxiety that we already felt. How often during that
troubled time did I stand at the window before retiring for the night,
straining my ears to catch any unaccustomed sound, and fancying that I
heard the noise of cannon from the direction of the barriers!
One Sunday morning, as I was preparing for church, my hostess entered
my room with a very grave face. She had received information from a
very reliable source that a determined attack was to be made that
day on the town. The churches were to be attacked first, she said,
therefore she strongly advised me to stay away. The lady herself had
decided to go, with her family, to a relative who lived in what she
thought was a safer quarter of the town, and would there remain to
watch the course of events.
I decided that if any disturbance was really going to take place it
would be preferable for me to be in the midst of my own countrymen, and
therefore putting the few valuables I possessed into a small bag, I
set out for church. Nothing unusual in the demeanour of the passers-by
struck me; no air of repressed excitement was to be remarked, and as I
approached the building where the English service was held, any latent
feeling of anxiety was completely dispelled by the sight of Princess
Marie, fresh and charming as usual, being swiftly driven to church. I
was completely convinced that nothing was to be feared, otherwise the
Princess would not have been allowed to appear in the streets.
Once in church all fears were at an end, till aroused again by the
entrance of two shady-looking persons of quite forbidding appearance.
I then for the first time became really frightened. Who were they?
What could they want? Would they throw bombs? As a matter of fact they
did nothing; but it was not until the conclusion of the service that I
learnt they were detectives, and their business was to watch over the
safety of Princess Marie.
The day passed very quietly, and I must say that I felt quite superior
and remarkably brave when in the course of the evening I was rung up by
my hostess, who wished to know if all was quiet and if she could return
in safety with her family. I telephoned at once that all was quiet,
not even a dog or cat to be seen in the street, much less any trace of
rioters.
Although we in town were spared any terrible sights, we heard dreadful
stories from those who had suffered. A lady whom I knew happened to be
in the country with her family when the revolt broke out. They managed
to escape from their beautiful home, and for three days and nights were
hidden by a friendly peasant in an outhouse. Here they were obliged
to subsist on the simplest fare, fearing to show themselves; dreading
every moment to be discovered. All around could be heard the hoarse
cries of the peasants, rising to frenzy as their excitement grew. The
glare of their own burning home penetrated into their hiding-place,
and they could picture to themselves the maddened peasants dancing like
so many demons round the fire. At last, as the rioters drew off to
scenes further afield, it was considered safe to attempt the journey to
the station. What a walk that must have been, and what a relief when
finally their goal was reached, and a train was found on the point of
starting for Bucarest! It is true that the journey was made with a man
standing with a loaded revolver at each carriage door, but all fear was
dismissed from their minds when they found themselves safe and sound in
the capital.
The instigators of the revolt, as was eventually proved, were the
schoolmasters and the priests. The proofs of this were overwhelming. No
one knows, and probably no one will ever know, the number of peasants
who lost their lives during the disturbances, but that it was very
large there is no doubt whatever.
Several timid folk left the country with their children and went to
Kronstadt, just a few miles over the border in Hungarian territory, and
there they remained till all was quiet once more.
It was rather amusing for the Roumanian families who later on ventured
to return to their estates, to see some of the peasants parading about
in garments that had formerly belonged to them.
A remarkable feature of country life in Roumania, which reminds us
sharply that serfdom has not long been extinct, is the curious kind of
subterranean housing provided for the labourers on many estates. In
the neighbourhood of the farm you will notice a long ridge or mound of
earth some three feet in height, at one end of which is an inverted
V-shaped opening like a ship’s scuttle. If you enter this “scuttle”
and descend a few steps you will find yourself in a large underground
apartment furnished with a stove, a small table in the centre, a number
of beds--of a sort--placed round the walls, and nothing else. My host,
on the occasion of my visiting one of these quaint dwellings on his
estate, assured me that his people preferred these “dugouts” to any
other form of dwelling, as they were cool in summer and warm in winter.
My visit was paid in the summer, but I imagine that when the stove is
alight the place must be a bit stuffy, to say the least of it.