1
_Introduction_
The problem of the origin and formation of the Rumanian nation has
always provided matter for keen disputation among historians, and the
theories which have been advanced are widely divergent. Some of these
discussions have been undertaken solely for political reasons, and in
such cases existing data prove conveniently adaptable. This elastic
treatment of the historical data is facilitated by the fact that a long
and important period affecting the formation and the development of the
Rumanian nation (270-1220) has bequeathed practically no contemporary
evidence. By linking up, however, what is known antecedent to that
period with the precise data available regarding the following it, and
by checking the inferred results with what little evidence exists
respecting the obscure epoch of Rumanian history, it has been possible
to reconstruct, almost to a certainty, the evolution of the Rumanians
during the Middle Ages.
A discussion of the varying theories would be out of proportion, and
out of place, in this essay. Nor is it possible to give to any extent a
detailed description of the epic struggle which the Rumanians carried
on for centuries against the Turks. I shall have to deal, therefore, on
broad lines, with the historical facts—laying greater stress only upon
the three fundamental epochs of Rumanian history: the formation of the
Rumanian nation; its initial casting into a national polity (foundation
of the Rumanian principalities); and its final evolution into the
actual unitary State; and shall then pass on to consider the more
recent internal and external development of Rumania, and her present
attitude.
2
_Formation of the Rumanian Nation_
About the fifth century B.C., when the population of the
Balkan-Carpathian region consisted of various tribes belonging to the
Indo-European family, the northern portion of the Balkan peninsula was
conquered by the Thracians and the Illyrians. The Thracians spread
north and south, and a branch of their race, the Dacians, crossed the
Danube. The latter established themselves on both sides of the
Carpathian ranges, in the region which now comprises the provinces of
Oltenia (Rumania), and Banat and Transylvania (Hungary). The Dacian
Empire expanded till its boundaries touched upon those of the Roman
Empire. The Roman province of Moesia (between the Danube and the
Balkans) fell before its armies, and the campaign that ensued was so
successful that the Dacians were able to compel Rome to an alliance.
Two expeditions undertaken against Dacia by the Emperor Trajan (98-117)
released Rome from these ignominious obligations, and brought Dacia
under Roman rule (A.D. 106). Before his second expedition Trajan
erected a stone bridge over the Danube, the remains of which can still
be seen at Turnu-Severin, a short distance below the point where the
Danube enters Rumanian territory. Trajan celebrated his victory by
erecting at Adam Klissi (in the province of Dobrogea) the recently
discovered _Tropaeum Traiani_, and in Rome the celebrated ‘Trajan’s
Column’, depicting in marble reliefs various episodes of the Dacian
wars.
The new Roman province was limited to the regions originally inhabited
by the Dacians, and a strong garrison, estimated by historians at
25,000 men, was left to guard it. Numerous colonists from all parts of
the Roman Empire were brought here as settlers, and what remained of
the Dacian population completely amalgamated with them. The new
province quickly developed under the impulse of Roman civilization, of
which numerous inscriptions and other archaeological remains are
evidence. It became one of the most flourishing dependencies of the
Roman Empire, and was spoken of as _Dacia Felix_.
About a century and a half later hordes of barbarian invaders, coming
from the north and east, swept over the country. Under the strain of
those incursions the Roman legions withdrew by degrees into Moesia, and
in A.D. 271 Dacia was finally evacuated. But the colonists remained,
retiring into the Carpathians, where they lived forgotten of history.
The most powerful of these invaders were the Goths (271-375), who,
coming from the shores of the Baltic, had shortly before settled north
of the Black Sea. Unaccustomed to mountain life, they did not penetrate
beyond the plains between the Carpathians and the Dnjester. They had
consequently but little intercourse with the Daco-Roman population, and
the total absence in the Rumanian language and in Rumanian place-names
of words of Gothic origin indicates that their stay had no influence
upon country or population. Material evidence of their occupation is
afforded, however, by a number of articles made of gold found in 1837
at Petroasa (Moldavia), and now in the National Museum at Bucarest.
After the Goths came the Huns (375-453), under Attila, the Avars
(566-799), both of Mongolian race, and the Gepidae (453-566), of Gothic
race—all savage, bloodthirsty raiders, passing and repassing over the
Rumanian regions, pillaging and burning everywhere. To avoid
destruction the Daco-Roman population withdrew more and more into the
inaccessible wooded regions of the mountains, and as a result were in
no wise influenced by contact with the invaders.
But with the coming of the Slavs, who settled in the Balkan peninsula
about the beginning of the seventh century, certain fundamental changes
took place in the ethnical conditions prevailing on the Danube. The
Rumanians were separated from the Romans, following the occupation by
the Slavs of the Roman provinces between the Adriatic and the Black
Sea. Such part of the population as was not annihilated during the
raids of the Avars was taken into captivity, or compelled to retire
southwards towards modern Macedonia and northwards towards the Dacian
regions.
Parts of the Rumanian country became dependent upon the new state
founded between the Balkans and the Danube in 679 by the Bulgarians, a
people of Turanian origin, who formerly inhabited the regions north of
the Black Sea between the Volga and the mouth of the Danube.
After the conversion of the Bulgarians to Christianity (864) the
Slovenian language was introduced into their Church, and afterwards
also into the Church of the already politically dependent Rumanian
provinces.[1] This finally severed the Daco-Rumanians from the Latin
world. The former remained for a long time under Slav influence, the
extent of which is shown by the large number of words of Slav origin
contained in the Rumanian language, especially in geographical and
agricultural terminology.
[Footnote 1: The Rumanians north and south of the Danube embraced the
Christian faith after its introduction into the Roman Empire by
Constantine the Great (325), with Latin as religious language and their
church organization under the rule of Rome. A Christian basilica,
dating from that period, has been discovered by the Rumanian;
archaeologist, Tocilescu, at Adam Klissi (Dobrogea).]
The coming of the Hungarians (a people of Mongolian race) about the end
of the ninth century put an end to the Bulgarian domination in Dacia.
While a few of the existing Rumanian duchies were subdued by Stephen
the Saint, the first King of Hungary (995-1038), the ‘land of the
Vlakhs’ (_Terra Blacorum_), in the south-eastern part of Transylvania,
enjoyed under the Hungarian kings a certain degree of national
autonomy. The Hungarian chronicles speak of the Vlakhs as ‘former
colonists of the Romans’. The ethnological influence of the Hungarians
upon the Rumanian population has been practically nil. They found the
Rumanian nation firmly established, race and language, and the latter
remained pure of Magyarisms, even in Transylvania. Indeed, it is easy
to prove—and it is only what might be expected, seeing that the
Rumanians had attained a higher state of civilization than the
Hungarian invaders—that the Hungarians were largely influenced by the
Daco-Romans. They adopted Latin as their official language, they copied
many of the institutions and customs of the Rumanians, and recruited a
large number of their nobles from among the Rumanian nobility, which
was already established on a feudal basis when the Hungarians arrived.
A great number of the Rumanian nobles and freemen were, however,
inimical to the new masters, and migrated to the regions across the
mountains. This the Hungarians used as a pretext for bringing parts of
Rumania under their domination, and they were only prevented from
further extending it by the coming of the Tartars (1241), the last
people of Mongolian origin to harry these regions. The Hungarians
maintained themselves, however, in the parts which they had already
occupied, until the latter were united into the principality of the
‘Rumanian land’.
To sum up: ‘The Rumanians are living to-day where fifteen centuries ago
their ancestors were living. The possession of the regions on the Lower
Danube passed from one nation to another, but none endangered the
Rumanian nation as a national entity. “The water passes, the stones
remain”; the hordes of the migration period, detached from their native
soil, disappeared as mist before the sun. But the Roman element bent
their heads while the storm passed over them, clinging to the old
places until the advent of happier days, when they were able to stand
up and stretch their limbs.’[1]
[Footnote 1: Traugott Tamm, _Über den Ursprung der Rumänen,_, Bonn,
1891.]
3
_The Foundation and Development of the Rumanian Principalities_
The first attempt to organize itself into a political entity was made
by the Rumanian nation in the thirteenth century, when, under the
impulse of the disaffected nobles coming from Hungary, the two
principalities of ‘Muntenia’ (Mountain Land), commonly known as
Wallachia and ‘Moldavia’, came into being. The existence of Rumanians
on both sides of the Carpathians long before Wallachia was founded is
corroborated by contemporary chroniclers. We find evidence of it in as
distant a source as the _History of the Mongols,_ of the Persian
chronicler, Rashid Al-Din, who, describing the invasion of the Tartars,
says: ‘In the middle of spring (1240) the princes (Mongols or Tartars)
crossed the mountains in order to enter the country of the Bulares
(Bulgarians) and of the Bashguirds (Hungarians). Orda, who was marching
to the right, passed through the country of the Haute (Olt), where
Bazarambam met him with an army, but was beaten. Boudgek crossed the
mountains to enter the Kara-Ulak, and defeated the Ulak (Vlakh)
people.’[1] Kara-Ulak means Black Wallachia; Bazarambam is certainly
the corrupted name of the Ban Bassarab, who ruled as vassal of Hungary
over the province of Oltenia, and whose dynasty founded the
principality of Muntenia. The early history of this principality was
marked by efforts to free it from Hungarian domination, a natural
development of the desire for emancipation which impelled the Rumanians
to migrate from the subdued provinces in Hungary.
[Footnote 1: Xenopol, _Histoire des Roumains,_ Paris, 1896, i, 168.]
The foundation of Moldavia dates from after the retreat of the Tartars,
who had occupied the country for a century (1241-1345). They were
driven out by an expedition under Hungarian leadership, with the aid of
Rumanians from the province of Maramuresh. It was the latter who then
founded the principality of Moldavia under the suzerainty of Hungary,
the chroniclers mentioning as its first ruler the Voivod Dragosh.[1]
[Footnote 1: The legend as to the foundation of Moldavia tells us that
Dragosh, when hunting one day in the mountains, was pursuing a bison
through the dense forest. Towards sunset, just when a successful shot
from his bow had struck and killed the animal, he emerged at a point
from which the whole panorama of Moldavia was unfolded before his
astonished eyes. Deeply moved by the beauty of this fair country, he
resolved to found a state there. It is in commemoration of this event
that Moldavia bears the head of a wild bison on her banner.]
The rudimentary political formations which already existed before the
foundation of the principalities were swept away by the invasion of the
Tartars, who destroyed all trace of constituted authority in the plains
below the Carpathians. In consequence the immigrants from Transylvania
did not encounter any resistance, and were even able to impose
obedience upon the native population, though coming rather as refugees
than as conquerors. These new-comers were mostly nobles (boyards).
Their emigration deprived the masses of the Rumanian population of
Transylvania of all moral and political support—especially as a part of
the nobility had already been won over by their Hungarian masters—and
with time the masses fell into servitude. On the other hand the
immigrating nobles strengthened and secured the predominance of their
class in the states which were to be founded. In both cases the
situation of the peasantry became worse, and we have, curiously enough,
the same social fact brought about by apparently contrary causes.
Though the Rumanians seem to have contributed but little, up to the
nineteenth century, to the advance of civilization, their part in
European history is nevertheless a glorious one, and if less apparent,
perhaps of more fundamental importance. By shedding their blood in the
struggle against the Ottoman invasion, they, together with the other
peoples of Oriental Europe, procured that security which alone made
possible the development of western civilization. Their merit, like
that of all with whom they fought, ‘is not to have vanquished time and
again the followers of Mohammed, who always ended by gaining the upper
hand, but rather to have resisted with unparalleled energy,
perseverance, and bravery the terrible Ottoman invaders, making them
pay for each step advanced such a heavy price, that their resources
were drained, they were unable to carry on the fight, and thus their
power came to an end’.[1]
[Footnote 1: Xenopol, op. cit., i. 266.]
From the phalanx of Christian warriors stand out the names of a few who
were the bravest of a time when bravery was common; but while it is at
least due that more tribute than a mere mention of their names should
be paid to the patriot princes who fought in life-long conflict against
Turkish domination, space does not permit me to give more than the
briefest summary of the wars which for centuries troubled the country.
It was in 1389, when Mircea the Old was Prince of Wallachia, that the
united Balkan nations attempted for the first time to check Ottoman
invasion. The battle of Kosovo, however, was lost, and Mircea had to
consent to pay tribute to the Turks. For a short space after the battle
of Rovine (1398), where Mircea defeated an invading Turkish army, the
country had peace, until Turkish victories under the Sultan Mohammed
resulted, in 1411, in further submissions to tribute.
It is worthy of mention that it was on the basis of tribute that the
relations between Turkey and Rumania rested until 1877, the Rumanian
provinces becoming at no time what Hungary was for a century and a
half, namely, a Turkish province.
In a battle arising following his frustration—by means not unconnected
with his name—of a Turkish plot against his person, Vlad the Impaler
(1458-62) completely defeated the Turks under Mohammed II; but an
unfortunate feud against Stephen the Great, Prince of Moldavia, put an
end to the reign of Vlad—a fierce but just prince.
A period of the most lamentable decadence followed, during which
Turkish domination prevailed more and more in the country. During an
interval of twenty-five years (1521-46) no less than eleven princes
succeeded one another on the throne of Muntenia, whilst of the nineteen
princes who ruled during the last three-quarters of the sixteenth
century, only two died a natural death while still reigning.
In Moldavia also internal struggles were weakening the country. Not
powerful enough to do away with one another, the various aspirants to
the throne contented themselves with occupying and ruling over parts of
the province. Between 1443-7 there were no less than three princes
reigning simultaneously, whilst one of them, Peter III, lost and
regained the throne three times.
For forty-seven years (1457-1504) Stephen the Great fought for the
independence of Moldavia. At Racova, in 1475, he annihilated an Ottoman
army in a victory considered the greatest ever secured by the Cross
against Islam. The Shah of Persia, Uzun Hasan, who was also fighting
the Turks, offered him an alliance, urging him at the same time to
induce all the Christian princes to unite with the Persians against the
common foe. These princes, as well as Pope Sixtus IV, gave him great
praise; but when Stephen asked from them assistance in men and money,
not only did he receive none, but Vladislav, King of Hungary, conspired
with his brother Albert, King of Poland, to conquer and divide Moldavia
between them. A Polish army entered the country, but was utterly
destroyed by Stephen in the forest of Kosmin.
Having had the opportunity of judging at its right value the friendship
of the Christian princes, on his death-bed Stephen advised his son
Bogdan to make voluntary submission to the Turks. Thus Moldavia, like
Wallachia, came under Turkish suzerainty.
For many years after Stephen’s death the Turks exploited the Rumanian
countries shamelessly, the very candidates for the throne having to pay
great sums for Turkish support. The country groaned under the resultant
taxation and the promiscuousness of the tribute exacted till, in 1572,
John the Terrible ascended the Moldavian throne. This prince refused to
pay tribute, and repeatedly defeated the Turks. An army of 100,000 men
advanced against John; but his cavalry, composed of nobles not
over-loyal to a prince having the peasant cause so much at heart,
deserted to the enemy, with the result that, after a gallant and
prolonged resistance, he suffered defeat.
Michael the Brave, Prince of Muntenia (1593-1601), was the last of the
Vlakhs to stand up against Turkish aggression. This prince not only
succeeded in crushing a Turkish army sent against him, but he invaded
Transylvania, whose prince had leanings towards Turkey, pushed further
into Moldavia, and succeeded in bringing the three Rumanian countries
under his rule. Michael is described in the documents of the time as
‘Prince of the whole land of Hungro-Wallachia, of Transylvania, and of
Moldavia’. He ruled for eight years. ‘It was not the Turkish sword
which put an end to the exploits of Michael the Brave. The Magyars of
Transylvania betrayed him; the German emperor condemned him; and a
Greek in Austria’s service, General Basta, had him sabred: as though it
were fated that all the enemies of the Rumanian race, the Magyar, the
German, and the Greek, should unite to dip their hands in the blood of
the Latin hero.’[1] The union of the Rumanian lands which he realized
did not last long; but it gave form and substance to the idea which was
from that day onward to be the ideal of the Rumanian nation.
[Footnote 1: Alfred Rumbaud, Introduction to Xenopol, op, cit., i.
xix.]
The fundamental cause of all the sufferings of the Rumanian
principalities was the hybrid ‘hereditary-elective’ system of
succession to the throne, which prevailed also in most of the
neighbouring countries. All members of the princely family were
eligible for the succession; but the right of selecting among them lay
with an assembly composed of the higher nobility and clergy. All was
well if a prince left only one successor. But if there were several,
even if illegitimate children, claiming the right to rule, then each
endeavoured to gain over the nobility with promises, sometimes,
moreover, seeking the support of neighbouring countries. This system
rendered easier and hastened the establishment of Turkish domination;
and corruption and intrigues, in which the Sultan’s harem had a share,
became capital factors in the choice and election of the ruler.
Economically and intellectually all this was disastrous. The Rumanians
were an agricultural people. The numerous class of small freeholders
(moshneni and razeshi), not being able to pay the exorbitant taxes,
often had their lands confiscated by the princes. Often, too, not being
able to support themselves, they sold their property and their very
selves to the big landowners. Nor did the nobles fare better. Formerly
free, quasi-feudal warriors, seeking fortune in reward for services
rendered to their prince, they were often subjected to coercive
treatment on his part now that the throne depended upon the goodwill of
influential personages at Constantinople. Various civil offices were
created at court, either necessitated by the extension of the relations
of the country or intended to satisfy some favourite of the prince.
Sources of social position and great material benefit, these offices
were coveted greedily by the boyards, and those who obtained none could
only hope to cheat fortune by doing their best to undermine the
position of the prince.
4
_The Phanariote Rule_
These offices very presently fell to the lot of the Phanariotes (Greek
merchants and bankers inhabiting the quarter of Phanar), who had in
some way or another assisted the princes to their thrones, these being
now practically put up to auction in Constantinople. As a natural
consequence of such a state of affairs the thoughts of the Rumanian
princes turned to Russia as a possible supporter against Ottoman
oppression. A formal alliance was entered into in 1711 with Tsar Peter
the Great, but a joint military action against the Turks failed, the
Tsar returned to Russia, and the Porte threatened to transform
Moldavia, in order to secure her against incipient Russian influence,
into a Turkish province with a pasha as administrator. The nobles were
preparing to leave the country, and the people to retire into the
mountains, as their ancestors had done in times of danger. It is not to
be wondered at that, under the menace of losing their autonomy, the
Rumanians ‘welcomed the nomination of the dragoman of the Porte,
Nicholas Mavrocordato, though he was a Greek. The people greeted with
joy the accession of the first Phanariote to the throne of the
principality of Moldavia’[1] (1711).
[Footnote 1: Xenopol, op. cit., ii. 138]
Knowledge of foreign languages had enabled the Phanariotes to obtain
important diplomatic positions at Constantinople, and they ended by
acquiring the thrones of the Rumanian principalities as a recompense
for their services. But they had to pay for it, and to make matters
more profitable the Turks devised the ingenious method of transferring
the princes from one province to another, each transference being
considered as a new nomination. From 1730 to 1741 the two reigning
princes interchanged thrones in this way three times. They acquired the
throne by gold, and they could only keep it by gold. All depended upon
how much they wore able to squeeze out of the country. The princes soon
became past masters in the art of spoliation. They put taxes upon
chimneys, and the starving peasants pulled their cottages down and went
to live in mountain caves; they taxed the animals, and the peasants
preferred to kill the few beasts they possessed. But this often proved
no remedy, for we are told that the Prince Constantin Mavrocordato,
having prescribed a tax on domestic animals at a time when an epidemic
had broken out amongst them, ordered the tax to be levied on the
carcasses. ‘The Administrative régime during the Phanariote period was,
in general, little else than organized brigandage,’ says Xenopol[1]. In
fact the Phanariote rule was instinct with corruption, luxury, and
intrigue. Though individually some of them may not deserve blame, yet
considering what the Phanariotes took out of the country, what they
introduced into it, and to what extent they prevented its development,
their era was the most calamitous in Rumanian history.
[Footnote 1: Ibid, op. cit., ii. 308]
The war of 1768 between Russia and Turkey gave the former power a vague
protectorate over the Rumanian provinces (Treaty of Kutchuk Kainardji).
In 1774 Austria acquired from the Turks, by false promises, the
northern part of Moldavia, the pleasant land of Bucovina. During the
new conflict between Turkey and Russia, the Russian armies occupied and
battened upon the Rumanian provinces for six years. Though they had
again to abandon their intention of making the Danube the southern
boundary of their empire—to which Napoleon had agreed by the secret
treaty with Tsar Alexander (Erfurt, September 27, 1808)—they obtained
from Turkey the cession of Bessarabia (Treaty of Bucarest, May 28,
1812), together with that part of Moldavia lying between the Dnjester
and the Pruth, the Russians afterwards giving to the whole region the
name of Bessarabia.
5
_Modern Period to 1866_
In 1821 the Greek revolution, striving to create an independent Greece,
broke out on Rumanian ground, supported by the princes of Moldavia and
Muntenia. Of this support the Rumanians strongly disapproved, for, if
successful, the movement would have strengthened the obnoxious Greek
domination; If unsuccessful, the Turks were sure to take a terrible
revenge for the assistance given by the Rumanian countries. The
movement, which was started about the same time by the ennobled
peasant, Tudor Vladimirescu, for the emancipation of the lower classes,
soon acquired, therefore, an anti-Greek tendency. Vladimirescu was
assassinated at the instigation of the Greeks; the latter were
completely checked by the Turks, who, grown suspicious after the Greek
rising and confronted with the energetic attitude of the Rumanian
nobility, consented in 1822 to the nomination of two native boyards,
Jonitza Sturdza and Gregory Ghica, recommended by their countrymen, as
princes of Moldavia and Wallachia. The iniquitous system of ‘the throne
to the highest bidder’ had come to an end.
The period which marks the decline of Greek influence in the Rumanian
principalities also marks the growth of Russian influence; the first
meant economic exploitation, the second was a serious menace to the
very existence of the Rumanian nation. But if Russia seemed a possible
future danger, Turkey with its Phanariote following was a certain and
immediate menace. When, therefore, at the outbreak of the conflict with
Turkey in 1828 the Russians once more passed the Pruth, the country
welcomed them. Indeed, the Rumanian boyards, who after the rising of
1821 and the Turkish occupation had taken refuge in Transylvania, had
even more than once invited Russian intervention.[1] Hopes and fears
alike were realized. By the Treaty of Adrianople (1829) the rights of
Turkey as suzerain were limited to the exaction of a monetary tribute
and the right of investiture of the princes, one important innovation
being that these last were to be elected by national assemblies for
life. But, on the other hand, a Russian protectorate was established,
and the provinces remained in Russian military occupation up to 1834,
pending the payment of the war indemnity by Turkey. The ultimate aim of
Russia may be open to discussion. Her immediate aim was to make Russian
influence paramount in the principalities; this being the only possible
explanation of the anomalous fact that, pending the payment of the war
indemnity, Russia herself was occupying the provinces whose autonomy
she had but now forcibly retrieved from Turkey. The _Règlement
Organique_, the new constitutional law given to the principalities by
their Russian governor, Count Kisseleff, truly reflected the tendency.
From the administrative point of view it was meant to make for
progress; from the political point of view it was meant to bind the two
principalities to the will of the Tsar. The personal charm of Count
Kisseleff seemed to have established as it were an unbreakable link
between Russians and Rumanians. But when he left the country in 1834
‘the liking for Russia passed away to be replaced finally by the two
sentiments which always most swayed the Rumanian heart: love for their
country, and affection towards France’.
[Footnote 1: Sec P. Eliade, _Histoire de l’Esprit Public en Roumanie_,
i, p. 167 et seq.]
French culture had been introduced into the principalities by the
Phanariote princes who, as dragomans of the Porte, had to know the
language, and usually employed French secretaries for themselves and
French tutors for their children. With the Russian occupation a fresh
impetus was given to French culture, which was pre-eminent in Russia at
the time; and the Russian officials, not speaking the language of the
country, generally employed French in their relations with the Rumanian
authorities, French being already widely spoken in Rumania. The contact
with French civilization, at an epoch when the Rumanians were striving
to free themselves from Turkish, Greek, and Russian political
influence, roused in them the sleeping Latin spirit, and the younger
generation, in constantly increasing numbers, flocked to Paris in
search of new forms of civilization and political life. At this
turning-point in their history the Rumanians felt themselves drawn
towards France, no less by racial affinity than by the liberal ideas to
which that country had so passionately given herself during several
decades.
By the Treaty of Adrianople the Black Sea was opened to the commercial
vessels of all nations. This made for the rapid economic development of
the principalities by providing an outlet for their agricultural
produce, the chief source of their wealth. It also brought them nearer
to western Europe, which began to be interested in a nation whose
spirit centuries of sufferings had failed to break. Political,
literary, and economic events thus prepared the ground for the Rumanian
Renascence, and when in 1848 the great revolution broke out, it spread
at once over the Rumanian countries, where the dawn of freedom had been
struggling to break since 1821. The Rumanians of Transylvania rose
against the tyranny of the Magyars; those of Moldavia and Muntenia
against the oppressive influence of Russia. The movement under the
gallant, but inexperienced, leadership of a few patriots, who,
significantly enough, had almost all been educated in France, was,
however, soon checked in the principalities by the joint action of
Russian and Turkish forces which remained in occupation of the country.
Many privileges were lost (Convention of Balta Liman, May 1, 1849); but
the revolution had quickened the national sentiment of the younger
generation in all classes of society, and the expatriated leaders,
dispersed throughout the great capitals of Europe, strenuously set to
work to publish abroad the righteous cause of their country. In this
they received the enthusiastic and invaluable assistance of Edgar
Quinet, Michelet, Saint-Marc Girardin, and others.
This propaganda had the fortune to be contemporaneous and in agreement
with the political events leading to the Crimean War, which was entered
upon to check the designs of Russia. A logical consequence was the
idea, raised at the Paris Congress of 1856, of the union of the
Rumanian principalities as a barrier to Russian expansion. This idea
found a powerful supporter in Napoleon III, ever a staunch upholder of
the principle of nationality. But at the Congress the unexpected
happened. Russia favoured the idea of union, ‘to swallow the two
principalities at a gulp,’ as a contemporary diplomatist maliciously
suggested; while Austria opposed it strongly. So, inconceivably enough,
did Turkey, whose attitude, as the French ambassador at Constantinople,
Thouvenel, put it, ‘was less influenced by the opposition of Austria
than by the approval of Russia’.[1] Great Britain also threw in her
weight with the powers which opposed the idea of union, following her
traditional policy of preserving the European equilibrium. The treaty
of March 30, 1856, re-incorporated with Moldavia the southern part of
Bessarabia, including the delta of the Danube, abolished the Russian
protectorate, but confirmed the suzerainty of Turkey—not unnaturally,
since the integrity of the Ottoman Empire had been the prime motive of
the war. By prohibiting Turkey, however, from entering Rumanian
territory, save with the consent of the great powers, it was recognized
indirectly that the suzerainty was merely a nominal one. Article 23 of
the treaty, by providing that the administration of the principalities
was to be on a national basis, implicitly pointed to the idea of union,
as the organization of one principality independently of the other
would not have been national. But as the main argument of Turkey and
Austria was that the Rumanians themselves did not desire the union, it
was decided to convene in both principalities special assemblies
(divans _ad hoc_) representing all classes of the population, whose
wishes were to be embodied, by a European commission, in a report for
consideration by the Congress.
[Footnote 1: A. Xenopol, _Unionistii si Separatistii_ (Paper read
before the Rumanian Academy), 1909.]
To understand the argument of the two powers concerned and the decision
to which it led, it must be borne in mind that the principalities were
in the occupation of an Austrian army, which had replaced the Russian
armies withdrawn in 1854, and that the elections for the assemblies
were to be presided over by Turkish commissaries. Indeed, the latter,
in collaboration with the Austrian consuls, so successfully doctored
the election lists,[1] that the idea of union might once more have
fallen through, had it not been for the invaluable assistance which
Napoleon III gave the Rumanian countries. As Turkish policy was relying
mainly on England’s support, Napoleon brought about a personal meeting
with Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, at Osborne (August 1857), the
result of which was a compromise: Napoleon agreed to defer for the time
being the idea of an effective union of the two principalities, England
undertaking, on the other hand, to make the Porte cancel the previous
elections, and proceed to new ones after revision of the electoral
lists. The corrupt Austrian and Turkish influence on the old elections
was best demonstrated by the fact that only three of the total of
eighty-four old members succeeded in securing re-election. The
assemblies met and proclaimed as imperatively necessary to the future
welfare of the provinces, their union, ‘for no frontier divides us, and
everything tends to bring us closer, and nothing to separate us, save
the ill-will of those who desire to see us disunited and weak’;
further, a foreign hereditary dynasty, because ‘the accession to the
throne of princes chosen from amongst us has been a constant pretext
for foreign interference, and the throne has been the cause of unending
feud among the great families of this country’. Moreover, if the union
of the two principalities was to be accomplished under a native prince,
it is obvious that the competition would have become doubly keen; not
to speak of the jealousies likely to be arousal between Moldavians and
Muntenians.
[Footnote 1: The edifying correspondence between the Porte and its
commissary Vorgoridès regarding the arrangements for the Rumanian
elections fell into the hands of Rumanian politicians, and caused a
great sensation when it appeared in _L’Etoile du Danube_, published in
Brussels by Rumanian _émigrés_.]
Such were the indisputable wishes of the Rumanians, based on knowledge
of men and facts, and arising out of the desire to see their country
well started on the high road of progress. But Europe had called for
the expression of these wishes only to get the question shelved for the
moment, as in 1856 everybody was anxious for a peace which should at
all costs be speedy. Consequently, when a second Congress met in Paris,
in May 1858, three months of discussion and the sincere efforts of
France only resulted in a hybrid structure entitled the ‘United
Principalities’. These were to have a common legislation, a common
army, and a central committee composed of representatives of both
assemblies for the discussion of common affairs; but were to continue
to form two separate states, with independent legislative and executive
institutions, each having to elect a prince of Rumanian descent for
life.
Disappointed in their hopes and reasonable expectations, the Rumanians
adopted the principle of ‘help yourself and God will help you’, and
proceeded to the election of their rulers. Several candidates competed
in Moldavia. To avoid a split vote the name of an outsider was put
forward the day before the election, and on January 17, 1859, Colonel
Alexander Ioan Cuza was unanimously elected. In Wallachia the outlook
was very uncertain when the assembly met, amid great popular
excitement, on February 5. The few patriots who had realized that the
powers, seeking only their own interests, were consciously and of set
purpose hampering the emancipation of a long-suffering nation, put
forth and urged the election of Cuza, and the assembly unanimously
adopted this spirited suggestion. By this master-stroke the Rumanians
had quietly accomplished the reform which was an indispensable
condition towards assuring a better future. The political moment was
propitious. Italy’s military preparation prevented Austria from
intervening, and, as usual when confronted with an accomplished fact,
the great powers and Turkey finished by officially recognizing the
action of the principalities in December 1861. The central commission
was at once abolished, the two assemblies and cabinets merged into one,
and Bucarest became the capital of the new state ‘Rumania’.
If the unsympathetic attitude of the powers had any good result, it was
to bring home for the moment to the Rumanians the necessity for
national unity. When the danger passed, however, the wisdom which it
had evoked followed suit. Cuza cherished the hope of realizing various
ideal reforms. Confronted with strong opposition, he did not hesitate
to override the constitution by dissolving the National Assembly (May
2, 1864) and arrogating to himself the right, till the formation of a
new Chamber, to issue decrees which had all the force of law. He thus
gave a dangerous example to the budding constitutional polity;
political passions were let loose, and a plot organized by the
Opposition led to the forced abdication of Cuza on February 23, 1866.
The prince left the country for ever a few days later. No disturbance
whatever took place, not one drop of blood was shed.
A series of laws, mostly adapted from French models, was introduced by
Cuza. Under the Education Act of 1864 all degrees of education were
free, and elementary education compulsory. A large number of special
and technical schools were founded, as well as two universities, one at
Jassy (1860) and one at Bucarest (1864). After the _coup d’état_ of
1864 universal suffrage was introduced, largely as an attempt to
‘swamp’ the fractious political parties with the peasant vote; while at
the same time a ‘senate’ was created as a ‘moderating assembly’ which,
composed as it was of members by right and members nominated by the
prince, by its very nature increased the influence of the crown. The
chief reforms concerned the rural question. Firstly, Cuza and his
minister, Cogalniceanu, secularized and converted to the state the
domains of the monasteries, which during the long period of Greek
influence had acquired one-fifth of the total area of the land, and
were completely in the hands of the Greek clergy (Law of December 13,
1863). More important still, as affecting fundamentally the social
structure of the country, was the Rural Law (promulgated on August 26,
1864), which had been the cause of the conflict between Cuza and the
various political factions, the Liberals clamouring for more thorough
reforms, the Conservatives denouncing Cuza’s project as revolutionary.
As the peasant question is the most important problem left for Rumania
to solve, and as I believe that, in a broad sense, it has a
considerable bearing upon the present political situation in that
country, it may not be out of place here to devote a little space to
its consideration.
Originally the peasant lived in the village community as a free
land-owner. He paid a certain due (one-tenth of his produce and three
days’ labour yearly) to his leader (_cneaz_) as recompense for his
leadership in peace and war. The latter, moreover, solely enjoyed the
privilege of carrying on the occupations of miller and innkeeper, and
the peasant was compelled to mill with him. When after the foundation
of the principalities the upper class was established on a feudal
basis, the peasantry were subjected to constantly increasing burdens.
Impoverished and having in many cases lost their land, the peasants
were also deprived at the end of the sixteenth century of their freedom
of movement. By that time the cneaz, from being the leader of the
community, had become the actual lord of the village, and his wealth
was estimated by the number of villages he possessed. The peasant
owners paid their dues to him in labour and in kind. Those peasants who
owned no land were his serfs, passing with the land from master to
master.
Under the Turkish domination the Rumanian provinces became the granary
of the Ottoman Empire. The value of land rose quickly, as did also the
taxes. To meet these taxes—from the payment of which the boyards (the
descendants of the cneazi) were exempt—the peasant owners had
frequently to sacrifice their lands; while, greedy after the increased
benefits, the boyards used all possible means to acquire more land for
themselves. With the increase of their lands they needed more labour,
and they obtained permission from the ruler not only to exact increased
labour dues from the peasantry, but also to determine the amount of
work that should be done in a day. This was effected in such a way that
the peasants had, in fact, to serve three and four times the number of
days due.
The power to acquire more land from the freeholders, and to increase
the amount of labour due by the peasants, was characteristic of the
legislation of the eighteenth century. By a decree of Prince Moruzi, in
1805, the lords were for the first time empowered to reserve to their
own use part of the estate, namely, one-fourth of the meadow land, and
this privilege was extended in 1828 to the use of one-third of the
arable land. The remaining two-thirds were reserved for the peasants,
every young married couple being entitled to a certain amount of land,
in proportion to the number of traction animals they owned. When the
Treaty of Adrianople of 1829 opened the western markets to Rumanian
corn, in which markets far higher prices were obtainable than from the
Turks, Rumanian agriculture received an extraordinary impetus.
Henceforth the efforts of the boyards were directed towards lessening
the amount of land to which the peasants were entitled. By the
_Règlement Organique_ they succeeded in reducing such land to half its
previous area, at the same time maintaining and exacting from the
peasant his dues in full. It is in the same Act that there appears for
the first time the fraudulent title ‘lords of the land’, though the
boyards had no exclusive right of property; they had the use of
one-third of the estate, and a right to a due in labour and in kind
from the peasant holders, present or prospective, of the other
two-thirds.
With a view to ensuring, on the one hand, greater economic freedom to
the land-owners, and, on the other, security for the peasants from the
enslaving domination of the upper class, the rural law of 1864
proclaimed the peasant-tenants full proprietors of their holdings, and
the land-owners full proprietors of the remainder of the estate. The
original intention of creating common land was not carried out in the
Bill. The peasant’s holding in arable land being small, he not
infrequently ploughed his pasture, and, as a consequence, had either to
give up keeping beasts, or pay a high price to the land-owners for
pasturage. Dues in labour and in kind were abolished, the land-owners
receiving an indemnity which was to be refunded to the state by the
peasants in instalments within a period of fifteen years. This reform
is characteristic of much of the legislation of Cuza: despotically
pursuing the realization of some ideal reform, without adequate study
of and adaptation to social circumstances, his laws provided no
practical solution of the problem with which they dealt. In this case,
for example, the reform benefited the upper class solely, although
generally considered a boon to the peasantry. Of ancient right
two-thirds of the estate were reserved for the peasants; but the new
law gave them possession of no more than the strip they were holding,
which barely sufficed to provide them with the mere necessaries of
life. The remainder up to two-thirds of the estate went as a gift, with
full proprietorship; to the boyard. For the exemption of their dues in
kind and in labour, the peasants had to pay an indemnity, whereas the
right of their sons to receive at their marriage a piece of land in
proportion to the number of traction animals they possessed was lost
without compensation. Consequently, the younger peasants had to sell
their labour, contracting for periods of a year and upwards, and became
a much easier prey to the spoliation of the upper class than when they
had at least a strip of land on which to build a hut, and from which to
procure their daily bread; the more so as the country had no industry
which could compete with agriculture in the labour market. An
investigation undertaken by the Home Office showed that out of 1,265
labour contracts for 1906, chosen at random, only 39.7 per cent, were
concluded at customary wages; the others were lower in varying degrees,
13.2 per cent. of the cases showing wages upwards of 75 per cent. below
the usual rates.
Under these conditions of poverty and economic serfdom the peasantry
was not able to participate in the enormous development of Rumanian
agriculture, which had resulted from increased political security and
the establishment of an extensive network of railways. While the
boyards found an increasing attraction in politics, a new class of
middlemen came into existence, renting the land from the boyards for
periods varying generally from three to five years. Owing to the
resultant competition, rents increased considerably, while conservative
methods of cultivation kept production stationary. Whereas the big
cultivator obtained higher prices to balance the increased cost of
production, the peasant, who produced for his own consumption, could
only face such increase by a corresponding decrease in the amount of
food consumed. To show how much alive the rural question is, it is
enough to state that peasant risings occurred in 1888, 1889, 1894,
1900, and 1907; that new distributions of land took place in 1881 and
1889; that land was promised to the peasants as well at the time of the
campaign of 1877 as at that of 1913; and that more or less happily
conceived measures concerning rural questions have been passed in
almost every parliamentary session. The general tendency of such
legislation partook of the ‘free contract’ nature, though owing to the
social condition of the peasantry the acts in question had to embody
protective measures providing for a maximum rent for arable and pasture
land, and a minimum wage for the peasant labourer.
Solutions have been suggested in profusion. That a solution is possible
no one can doubt. One writer, basing his arguments on official
statistics which show that the days of employment in 1905 averaged only
ninety-one for each peasant, claims that only the introduction of
circulating capital and the creation of new branches of activity can
bring about a change. The suggested remedy may be open to discussion;
but our author is undoubtedly right when, asking himself why this
solution has not yet been attempted, he says: ‘Our country is governed
at present by an agrarian class…. Her whole power rests in her
ownership of the land, our only wealth. The introduction of circulating
capital would result in the disintegration of that wealth, in the loss
of its unique quality, and, as a consequence, in the social decline of
its possessors.’[1] This is the fundamental evil which prevents any
solution of the rural question. A small class of politicians, with the
complicity of a large army of covetous and unscrupulous officials, live
in oriental indolence out of the sufferings of four-fifths of the
Rumanian nation. Though elementary education is compulsory, more than
60 per cent. of the population are still illiterate, mainly on account
of the inadequacy of the educational budget. Justice is a myth for the
peasant. Of political rights he is, in fact, absolutely deprived. The
large majority, and by far the sanest part of the Rumanian nation, are
thus fraudulently kept outside the political and social life of the
country. It is not surmising too much, therefore, to say that the
opportunity of emancipating the Transylvanians would not have been
wilfully neglected, had that part of the Rumanian nation in which the
old spirit still survives had any choice in the determination of their
own fate.
[Footnote 1: St. Antim, _Cbestiunea Socială în România,_ 1908, p. 214.]
6
_Contemporary Period: Internal Development_
In order to obviate internal disturbances or external interference, the
leaders of the movement which had dethroned Prince Cuza caused
parliament to proclaim, on the day of Cuza’s abdication, Count Philip
of Flanders— the father of King Albert of Belgium—Prince of Rumania.
The offer was, however, not accepted, as neither France nor Russia
favoured the proposal. Meanwhile a conference had met again in Paris at
the instance of Turkey and vetoed the election of a foreign prince. But
events of deeper importance were ripening in Europe, and the Rumanian
politicians rightly surmised that the powers would not enforce their
protests if a candidate were found who was likely to secure the support
of Napoleon III, then ‘schoolmaster’ of European diplomacy. This
candidate was found in the person of Prince Carol of
Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, second son of the head of the elder branch of
the Hohenzollerns (Catholic and non-reigning). Prince Carol was cousin
to the King of Prussia, and related through his grandmother to the
Bonaparte family. He could consequently count upon the support of
France and Prussia, while the political situation fortunately secured
him from the opposition of Russia, whose relations with Prussia were at
the time friendly, and also from that of Austria, whom Bismarck
proposed to ‘keep busy for some time to come’. The latter must have
viewed with no little satisfaction the prospect of a Hohenzollern
occupying the throne of Rumania at this juncture; and Prince Carol,
allowing himself to be influenced by the Iron Chancellor’s advice,
answered the call of the Rumanian nation, which had proclaimed him as
‘Carol I, Hereditary Prince of Rumania’. Travelling secretly with a
small retinue, the prince second class, his suite first, Prince Carol
descended the Danube on an Austrian steamer, and landed on May 8 at
Turnu-Severin, the very place where, nearly eighteen centuries before,
the Emperor Trajan had alighted and founded the Rumanian nation.
By independent and energetic action, by a conscious neglect of the will
of the powers, which only a young constitutional polity would have
dared, by an active and unselfish patriotism, Rumania had at last
chosen and secured as her ruler the foreign prince who alone had a
chance of putting a stop to intrigues from within and from without. And
the Rumanians had been extremely fortunate in their hasty and not quite
independent choice. A prince of Latin origin would probably have been
more warmly welcomed to the hearts of the Rumanian people; but after so
many years of political disorder, corrupt administration, and arbitrary
rule, a prince possessed of the German spirit of discipline and order
was best fitted to command respect and impose obedience and sobriety of
principle upon the Rumanian politicians.
Prince Carol’s task was no easy one. The journal compiled by the
provisional government, which held the reins for the period elapsing
between the abdication of Cuza and the accession of Prince Carol,
depicts in the darkest colours the economic situation to which the
faults, the waste, the negligence, and short-sightedness of the
previous régime had reduced the country, ‘the government being in the
humiliating position of having brought disastrous and intolerable
hardship alike upon its creditors, its servants, its pensioners, and
its soldiers’.[1] Reforms were badly needed, and the treasury had
nothing in hand but debts. To increase the income of the state was
difficult, for the country was poor and not economically independent.
Under the Paris Convention of 1858, Rumania remained bound, to her
detriment, by the commercial treaties of her suzerain, Turkey, the
powers not being willing to lose the privileges they enjoyed under the
Turkish capitulations. Moreover, she was specially excluded from the
arrangement of 1860, which allowed Turkey to increase her import taxes.
The inheritance of ultra-liberal measures from the previous regime made
it difficult to cope with the unruly spirit of the nation. Any attempt
at change in this direction would have savoured of despotism to the
people, who, having at last won the right to speak aloud, believed that
to clamour against anything that meant ‘rule’ was the only real and
full assertion of liberty. And the dissatisfied were always certain of
finding a sympathetic ear and an open purse in the Chancellories of
Vienna and St. Petersburg.
[Footnote 1: D.A. Sturdza, _Treizeci de ani de Domnie ai Regelui
Carol,_ 1900, i.82.]
Prince Carol, not being sufficiently well acquainted with the
conditions of the country nor possessing as yet much influence with the
governing class, had not been in a position to influence at their
inception the provisions of the extremely liberal constitution passed
only a few weeks after his accession to the throne. The new
constitution, which resembled that of Belgium more nearly than any
other, was framed by a constituent assembly elected on universal
suffrage, and, except for slight modifications introduced in 1879 and
1884, is in vigour to-day. It entrusts the executive to the king and
his ministers, the latter alone being responsible for the acts of the
government.[1] The legislative power is vested in the king and two
assemblies—a senate and a chamber—the initiative resting with any one
of the three.[2] The budget and the yearly bills fixing the strength of
the army, however, must first be passed by the Chamber. The agreement
of the two Chambers and the sanction of the king are necessary before
any bill becomes law. The king convenes, adjourns, and dissolves
parliament. He promulgates the laws and is invested with the right of
absolute veto. The constitution proclaims the inviolability of
domicile, the liberty of the press and of assembly, and absolute
liberty of creed and religion, in so far as its forms of celebration do
not come into conflict with public order and decency. It recognizes no
distinction of class and privilege; all the citizens share equally
rights and duties within the law. Education is free in the state
schools, and elementary education compulsory wherever state schools
exist. Individual liberty and property are guaranteed; but only
Rumanian citizens can acquire rural property. Military service is
compulsory, entailing two years in the infantry, three years in the
cavalry and artillery, one year in all arms for those having completed
their studies as far as the university stage. Capital punishment does
not exist, except for military offences in time of war.
[Footnote 1: There are at present nine departments: Interior, Foreign
Affairs, Finance, War, Education and Religion, Domains and Agriculture,
Public Works, Justice, and Industry and Commerce. The President of the
Cabinet is Prime Minister, with or without portfolio.]
[Footnote 2: All citizens of full age paying taxes, with various
exemptions, are electors, voting according to districts and census. In
the case of the illiterate country inhabitants, with an income from
land of less than £12 a year, fifty of them choose one delegate having
one vote in the parliamentary election. The professorial council of the
two universities of Jassy and Bucarest send one member each to the
Senate, the heir to the throne and the eight bishops being members by
right.]
The state religion is Greek Orthodox. Up to 1864 the Rumanian Church
was subordinate to the Patriarchate of Constantinople. In that year it
was proclaimed independent, national, and autocephalous, though this
change was not recognized by the Patriarchate till 1885, while the
secularization of the property of the monasteries put an end _de facto_
to the influence of the Greek clergy. Religious questions of a dogmatic
nature are settled by the Holy Synod of Bucarest, composed of the two
metropolitans of Bucarest and Jassy and the eight bishops; the Minister
for Education, with whom the administrative part of the Church rests,
having only a deliberative vote. The maintenance of the Church and of
the clergy is included in the general budget of the country, the
ministers being state officials (Law of 1893).
Religion has never played an important part in Rumanian national life,
and was generally limited to merely external practices. This may be
attributed largely to the fact that as the Slavonic language had been
used in the Church since the ninth century and then was superseded by
Greek up to the nineteenth century, the clergy was foreign, and was
neither in a position nor did it endeavour to acquire a spiritual
influence over the Rumanian peasant. There is no record whatever in
Rumanian history of any religious feuds or dissensions. The religious
passivity remained unstirred even during the domination of the Turks,
who contented themselves with treating the unbelievers with contempt,
and squeezing as much money as possible out of them. Cuza having made
no provision for the clergy when he converted the wealth of the
monasteries to the state, they were left for thirty years in complete
destitution, and remained as a consequence outside the general
intellectual development of the country. Though the situation has much
improved since the Law of 1893, which incorporated the priests with the
other officials of the Government, the clergy, recruited largely from
among the rural population, are still greatly inferior to the Rumanian
priests of Bucovina and Transylvania. Most of them take up Holy orders
as a profession: ‘I have known several country parsons who were
thorough atheists.’[1]
[Footnote 1: R. Rosetti, _Pentru ce s-au răsculat țăranii_, 1907, p.
600]
However difficult his task, Prince Carol never deviated from the
strictly constitutional path: his opponents were free to condemn the
prince’s opinions; he never gave them the chance of questioning his
integrity.
Prince Carol relied upon the position in which his origin and family
alliances placed him in his relations with foreign rulers to secure him
the respect of his new subjects. Such considerations impressed the
Rumanians. Nor could they fail to be aware of ‘the differences between
the previously elected princes and the present dynasty, and the
improved position which the country owed to the latter’.[1]
[Footnote 1: Augenzeuge, _Aus dem Leben König Karls von Rumănien,
1894-1900,_ iii. 177.]