The National Theatre--The students’ riot on behalf of the national
language--Racing as a fashionable amusement--English jockeys
and trainers--The Battle of Flowers--The devotees of the
card-table--Rafting on the Bistritza, a glorious sport.
The Roumanians as an Eastern nation have all the Oriental’s love
of show, of glitter, and of pleasure. Theatres, concerts, and
cinematographs are always well attended. Unfortunately very late hours
are kept, no entertainment beginning before 9 o’clock p.m., and as
the Roumanian has the Oriental’s dislike of punctuality, the hour is
very often still later. After the theatre, which is only over between
midnight and 1 a.m., it is _de rigueur_ to go to Capsa’s to drink tea
or eat an ice, according to the season. It is no wonder that Bucarest
is called a little Paris; it resembles that gay city very much,
especially in its night-life. No matter at what hour of the night
you drive through Calea Victorie, the street is always brilliantly
illuminated, cafés and restaurants are open, and numbers of people are
still walking about.
As a rule the Roumanians are not very keen on their own theatre, but
when a foreign company of actors is announced (especially if it is a
French company) there is a rush for seats. Prices are raised on such
occasions, as much as 300 francs being charged for a box.
There are two fairly decent theatres in Bucarest, the National and
the Lyric. The former was the scene of a great disturbance one
evening a few years ago. Some society ladies wished to perform
a play, the proceeds to be devoted to charity. This was quite a
laudable object, but the manner in which they designed to carry it
out met with opposition on the part of a section of the public. The
play, it was announced, was to be performed in _French_ and at the
_National_ Theatre. Anyone who has lived in Bucarest will be fully
aware of the dislike of society ladies to everything distinctively
Roumanian--whether it be the language, the customs, or anything else.
On the other hand some of the people, and especially the students, see
no reason why their own language should be so neglected, and on this
particular occasion they determined to protest. The National Theatre,
they declared, was for the national drama in the national speech. The
persons responsible for the projected entertainment paid no attention
whatever to the general discontent, but continued their rehearsals. The
evening arrived, but long before the hour fixed for the performance
the square in front of the theatre was filled with immense crowds of
students and others, whom no efforts of the police could disperse.
Access was also gained to the building itself and it was held against
all comers. National songs were sung, and the crowd gradually became so
excited that it was ripe for any mischief.
Woe betide anyone who tried to enter the National Theatre that night.
Each carriage as it arrived was immediately surrounded, the horses
taken out, the windows smashed, and the occupants could think
themselves lucky if they escaped with nothing worse than a torn
dress or a knocked-in hat. The damage done in the neighbourhood was
considerable, windows were smashed, and one house especially was almost
wrecked. The rumour ran that in the mêlée a student had been killed,
and was concealed in the theatre, but although this excited the crowd
to frenzy, no confirmation of the report was ever forthcoming. In the
end the students carried their point and the play was not performed.
Some time after this a society was formed, the members of which bound
themselves to protect the Roumanian language, to speak it in public and
private, and not allow it to be ousted from its place as the national
tongue. From this date the National Theatre was reserved for Roumanian
plays. The Lyric, which is a much smaller theatre, was given up to
foreign companies.
Riding is not practised in Bucarest to any great extent. A few ladies
have been stirred to emulation of Queen Marie, who is an expert
horsewoman, but they are only a few. Roumanians are, it must always be
remembered, an Eastern people, and they do not show great aptitude for
violent exercise of any kind.
Some members of the Jockey Club (formed by an Englishman years ago)
keep a stud of horses, and races are held twice a year, in spring and
autumn. These races are very notable events, and they are very well
attended, as they are always patronised by members of the royal family,
and of course everybody who is anybody must follow suit.
Very smart costumes are ordered for the occasion, one well-known leader
of fashion vies with another as to which will be smarter, and it would
be a bold person who would aver that the vast concourse of people
assembled on the race-course is simply there to follow the events of
the programme, or from a general love of horses. I rather lean to the
opinion that the majority go in order to study the toilets.
It very often happens that these toilets are spoiled before the day is
over by the rain coming down in torrents. It has been remarked time
after time that rain is sure to fall on the first day of the races, and
fall it generally does with a vengeance.
The jockeys are of course all English; indeed, M. Marghiloman has a
small English colony on his estate--a trainer, and several jockeys, who
with their wives and families make up quite a population. M. D---- also
keeps a stud, and of course the army officers take part in turf matters
and enter their horses for different races. The “Derby” (on a small
scale) is _the_ race; I believe the prize is 5000 francs (£200), and is
always given by the Jockey Club.
The month of June was generally decided upon for the “Battle of
Flowers,” an event which always took place at the Chaussée, this
popular drive lending itself much better to such purposes than any
other of the places of public resort. The “Battle of Flowers” was
arranged by the ladies of Bucarest society, the proceeds being devoted
to some charitable purpose--“La Crèche” (the foundling hospital) or
some similar institution. If the day were fine the Chaussée presented
a very animated appearance from an early hour in the afternoon, all
the economical souls going as early as possible in order to take
possession of the numerous benches along the route, and thus avoid the
expense of a chair.
The Chaussée is situated at the end of the town and is something
similar to the Prater in Vienna, but on a much smaller scale. There is
a broad carriage way, planted on both sides with beautiful lime trees,
extending for miles, till it finally ends in the open country. At each
side of this broad way is a walk for pedestrians, well furnished with
seats, and at the right is also a pathway for riders. The Chaussée, it
may be imagined, is very gay when, added to its natural beauties, it
is tastefully decorated with pretty devices here and there, and the
national colours of Roumania.
Let me briefly describe the last battle I was present at a year or two
ago.
In the booths at the entrance pretty girls were stationed to whom we
willingly paid the entrance fee of one franc. For decorated carriages
the charge was 10 francs, non-decorated 5 francs, and bicycles 2
francs. Bands were stationed at regular intervals along the route,
enlivening the proceedings with their strains. As the gaily decorated
carriages began to arrive, the excitement grew. There was lavish
admiration for the first on the scene, but as carriage after carriage
rolled by, one prettier than the other, we could only gaze and gaze
and admire. I remember that Mme. C.’s carriage, decorated with great
bouquets of white marguerites and scarlet poppies, scored a great
success on this occasion. Then the officers’ brake appeared, not only
decorated with flowers, but containing a bevy of pretty young girls,
each one wearing a very effective crimson head-dress made of paper.
There followed a peasant ox-waggon decorated in true country fashion
with a canopy of foliage and bunches of field flowers. Here again life
interest was given to the picture by a pretty group of young girls all
dressed in Roumanian costume. Here and there a rider with a decorated
saddle, or a cyclist with some fantastic floral display, excited some
applause, but the admiration was universal when Princess Marie (as she
then was) arrived in her carriage splendidly adorned with roses of all
colours. Princess Elizabeth, who drove her smart little dog-cart, also
came in for a liberal and well-deserved share of admiration. She and
her perfect little equipage made a charming picture.
Now the battle began in real earnest. As the two lines of carriages
passed and repassed each other, the air seemed full of dainty little
bouquets, thrown from one carriage to another. The pedestrians on the
foot-paths took part also in the gay contest, and there was many a
merry interchange not only of flowers, but of jests, as acquaintances
recognised each other in the crowd. Princess Marie scarcely took any
part in the fighting, she was so bombarded on all sides that she could
find few opportunities for exchanges. I was pleased, however, that I
succeeded in getting a rose from her. The Princess never stayed very
long at the Battle of Flowers. Being a constant centre of hostilities,
she was bombarded to such an extent that probably she did not find it
very amusing.
As the dinner-hour drew near the carriages began to wend their way
homewards. Some very enthusiastic fighters kept it up for an hour or so
longer, ending up the day with a final drive through the town, where
they were gaily acclaimed from the crowded balconies, and attempts were
made on both sides to carry on the fight. However, little by little the
streets became quieter, and nothing remained of the Battle of Flowers
but the poor faded blooms dropped from the carriages, and the very
substantial profits for the benefit of “La Crèche.”
Roumanians of both sexes are devotees of the card-table, and all sorts
of games are played--bridge, tarok, mouse, and poker are the most
popular, but the last named seems to be the favourite. Cards are played
not only in Bucarest but also in the provinces, and women, old and
young, take an enormous amount of interest in the pastime. Card-playing
seems to be a mania with them. They sit down to the tables in the early
afternoon and continue playing till far into the night. Of course it
must be conceded that life in the provinces is deadly dull. In summer
it is pleasant enough when there are garden-parties, tennis-matches,
and concerts; but in winter there is absolutely no amusement, so that
card-playing is the only resource.
No evening party can ever be successful without the inevitable
card-table, and very great sums are lost and won during the evening;
sums that very often the persons concerned can ill afford to lose.
As I have mentioned elsewhere, most of the rivers in Roumania are very
shallow, but the river Bistritza is certainly an exception. This great
stream flows through part of Moldavia, and is very much used in the
transit of timber from the mountainous regions higher up. The timber
is floated down on huge rafts, and a great amusement during the summer
months is to hire such a raft (it can be had for twenty francs) and
make the excursion down the river.
The raft is composed of numbers of stout logs firmly lashed together,
and is about 12 feet long by 6 wide. The passengers sit in as
comfortable a position as they can adopt, and as there is nothing
whatever to take hold of, great care must be exercised to keep it
well in mid-stream so that no collision may take place. The current
is very swift, therefore the task of the men steering the raft is not
always an easy one. There are always numerous rafts on the river, some
with passengers, and some without, so the scene is very animated and
interesting as one drifts along through some of the loveliest river
scenery in Roumania.
The river runs swirling and seething in a succession of slight rapids.
The mountains, wooded down to the water’s edge, leave in places just a
narrow gorge where only one raft can pass at a time. There are numerous
turns and twists in the river, and when it is swollen by the waters of
the Bicassu, as is often the case, the rapids appear like a boiling
sea, the little waves foaming and hissing round the points of rock.
It needs skilful paddling on the part of the raftsman to avoid these
miniature “Iron Gates,” and very often disaster overtakes the smaller
rafts; they get stranded and more or less knocked about by the seething
waters if they are in the hands of an unskilful raftsman.
When night falls a mooring-place must be found for the raft, and a
shelter for the passengers, and herein lies one of the disadvantages of
such an excursion. The small inns that are to be met with in this part
of the country are very primitive and the accommodation very scanty.
Such as it is, however, one must make the best of it, as the only
alternative is to spend the night on the raft.
If the weather conditions be favourable this trip on the Bistritza
can be made most enjoyable, and most visitors to the country will
have delightful recollections of the smooth, swift motion down the
river, with the brown waters swirling and eddying round the raft, the
sun-flecked boughs now near now far away as the raft approaches or
recedes from the bank.