Convict life in the salt--mines--A Roumanian Jack Sheppard--The trick
that laid him low--Procedure in murder cases--The reconstruction
of the crime--Scant justice for servants: no Habeas Corpus Act
in Roumania--A man whose face was the only evidence against
him--Gipsies and the building trade: the men act as masons and
bricklayers, the women as their labourers--Exhibition of new
clothes when a roof is put on--Fiddling ragamuffins--Gipsies as
musicians--Guarding against gipsies in the Carpathians.
Prison accommodation in Roumania is considerably better now than it
used to be. The cells are light and airy, and the prison fare is not
worse than in other countries. Capital punishment is not inflicted.
If a person be convicted of a capital crime, his sentence will be
imprisonment in the salt-mines for life or for a long term of years.
These salt-mines are situated at Ocna Mare, and it is quite an
interesting experience to pay a visit to them. Before descending into
the depths, visitors are required to don a large loose overall to
protect their clothes. The descent in the cage is soon over, and one
finds oneself in a large hall hewn out of the solid salt, which, when
lighted up, flashes out brilliant colours innumerable. The prisoners
make the descent every morning, and stay below for a certain number
of hours for work, after which they are re-conducted to their prison
home. They are allowed to manufacture small articles of salt, wood,
etc., and stalls are arranged in the courtyard of the prison on which
these articles are exposed for sale, the prisoners themselves acting as
salesmen.
For a nervous person it is not at all reassuring to find oneself
suddenly in the midst of such surroundings. Some of the prisoners
have a very dogged, obstinate expression; and when one remarks among
the articles for sale numbers of large, strongly made knives, one
involuntarily begins to wonder what would happen if the prisoners
should each seize a knife and make a sudden dash for freedom. Should
_we_ be attacked, or should we not? Evidently such a supposition has
occurred to no one else; or is it that such precautions have been taken
that a rising on the part of the prisoners is out of the question?
Occasionally, however, a prisoner does effect his escape. Some years
ago a noted robber who was undergoing a long term of punishment
succeeded in getting out of prison. He was rearrested, and again this
modern Jack Sheppard got the better of his captors, commencing a fresh
villainous career, and it may be remarked that he did not stop at
robberies by any means. The prison authorities became quite wearied
out with this man, so devised a plan to get rid of him entirely. The
last place at which he was arrested was Galatz, where there is a fairly
large garden. On a certain day and at a certain hour the public were
absolutely forbidden to enter this garden, a sentry being stationed at
each gate to see that the order was obeyed. The prisoner was then taken
under strong escort to be transferred to another place of detention,
and the way led through the garden. The guards were chatting and
laughing together, so the prisoner thought it a favourable moment to
elude them. He was a very agile man, and started off full speed, but
had not got very far when three shots rang out and he was laid low, his
inglorious career ended for ever. It seemed rather a mean trick; but as
the death penalty is never inflicted, no other means of getting rid of
him could be devised.
What always appeared very strange to me was the procedure in a
murder case, but I believe it is similar to that adopted in France.
If a person be arrested on a charge of murder, he undergoes a first
examination, and is then taken to the scene of the murder. Everything
is arranged as it is supposed to have been when the murder was
committed. Even the body of the victim is present. It is presumed
that revisiting the scene and recalling the terrible occurrence may
betray the accused man into some expression of feeling or even into a
confession of guilt. The whole idea is gruesome, and it seems to me to
take an unfair advantage of the prisoner.
Principles of justice and fairplay are not quite so developed in the
East as in the West. For instance, a servant who is accused of theft
by his master or mistress gets a good thrashing first of all at the
police-court in order to induce him to confess his guilt, and also to
divulge where he has hidden the stolen property. It is against all law
to act in such a way, but the servant does not dare complain.
It is not at all a difficult matter for a person who occupies a high
position in the capital to have another of lesser degree, such as
a servant or a workman, imprisoned. A word to the police, and the
victim will be arrested and kept perhaps for days without a charge
being brought against him. But a complaint is never brought forward for
false imprisonment, nor would such a complaint be considered. A lady of
my acquaintance once engaged a man-servant of rather unprepossessing
appearance. One night after retiring to rest she was awakened by
suspicious noises in the house. She immediately conceived the idea
that this man of evil looks was bent on actions to correspond. As she
always kept a policeman’s rattle near at hand, she at once rushed to
the window and sounded it. In a few minutes two policemen arrived, and
a house search was instituted. Nowhere could the man-servant be found,
till finally the kitchen was reached, where he was discovered lying
across the table fast asleep, or pretending to sleep, with a huge knife
beside him. This looked so suspicious that he was immediately arrested
and taken to the police-court. The lady was asked if she could accuse
him of any wrong-doing, but as she really had nothing definite to
formulate, only suspicions to go upon, no charge could be made against
him. He was, however, detained for three or four days before being set
at liberty.
In Roumania gipsies form an interesting section of the community; they
are always employed where building is going on. The men are engaged
as stone-masons and bricklayers, and execute the more skilled work,
whilst the women act as labourers and mount the scaffolding with loads
on their backs. At first it was never thought necessary to provide any
kind of dwelling for these gipsies when engaged on a job--they just lay
about anywhere in the open; but finally it became quite a scandal and
a source of danger to the community, so action had to be taken. A law
was passed that anyone employing gipsies must provide them with proper
accommodation, and that sanitary considerations must be respected.
When the building on which gipsies are employed arrives at a certain
stage, sometimes before the roof is put on, high holiday is kept. The
scaffolding is decorated with green boughs, among which one may see new
skirts, coats, and blouses fluttering in the breeze. These are given by
the employer, and are on view for the rest of the day. I think it is
the only time they _are_ on view, as I have never yet seen a gipsy with
new clothes on. They would seem quite out of place. Rags and gipsies
seem somehow to belong to each other. When no building is going on,
gipsies are often to be seen parading the streets with a tame bear
that can be put through any number of tricks. One of the gipsies has
a weird kind of incantation to which the unfortunate bear is supposed
to dance. His unwieldy movements, and muffled growling, as a sort of
running accompaniment to the music, delight the children, who are eager
to reward the bear’s master with all the coppers they possess.
The gipsies do not seem to be a really lazy race. When they are at
work they are quite active, singing or whistling if they have not at
the moment the inevitable cigarette end between their teeth. It is one
of the occupations of the gipsy children to roam about the streets in
search of cigarette-ends that have been thrown away (pipes are seldom
used in Bucarest). These are brought to their parents to be smoked
to the “bitter end.” The women smoke just as much as the men. Another
occupation for bigger children is to get hold of a rude kind of violin
and to play for the public. It is a sight to see one trying to keep up
with a tram, fiddling for all he is worth (no one knows what the tune
is), but keeping a sharp look-out for any _bani_ that may be thrown
to him. He is a comical figure, sometimes wearing neither shoes nor
stockings, but with a long coat reaching half-way down his bare legs.
Sometimes he sports a battered-in hat, but more often than not his own
shaggy curls form his only head covering.
The little children are picturesque, and they would delight the eye
of an artist. They do not trouble about clothes at all. It is true
that the little brown bodies are sometimes clothed in tiny shirts, but
more often than not they are entirely naked. The big black eyes and
the little brown faces crowned by masses of thick brown or black curls
remind one strongly of the types in pictures by Murillo.
All gipsies have a natural talent for music, and where it can be
developed success is almost sure. There is, for instance, a gipsy in
Bucarest who, with his band of musicians, is very much sought after
for entertainments. He can command 200-300 francs for a few hours in
the evening; and as festivities are not often wanting, especially in
winter, he must have amassed quite a nice little fortune. He went with
his band to the Exhibition in Paris some years ago, and aroused great
enthusiasm among the French by his playing. Gipsy music in Roumania has
always a vein of melancholy running through it, quite different from
the Hungarian music, which is fiery and wild in its character, showing
plainly the untamed spirit of the people.
Gipsies as a class have not a good reputation for honesty, therefore if
any are seen near one’s house a sharp look-out must be kept. I stayed
for some weeks one summer at a little village in the Carpathians.
Just about twenty minutes’ walk from our cottage there was a gipsy
encampment. The lady with whom I was staying was rather nervous, and
terribly afraid of the gipsies. The forest, which was very dense, came
right down to the back of our cottage, which was in a rather isolated
situation. Her fear was that the gipsies might hide in the forest and
then attack us at night. Great precautions had to be taken, doors and
windows carefully closed and barred. The dogs, of which there are
always enough and to spare in the country, were brought close up to
the cottage, and with a loaded revolver near at hand we considered we
should be a match for the gipsies. But the truth is they never came to
let us prove it.