Part 11

His shining blue eyes filled with tears, and sobs heaved in his breast. My mother wept for sorrow and joy, and only I was tearless. This little book contained poems written from the time of my confirmation to my thirtieth year, of which my mother had seen hardly any, for they had, except on very exceptional occasions, been hidden from those nearest and dearest to me.”

Amongst them were the two following poems written in English:--

SERVE THE LORD WITH GLADNESS.

“Through Life’s deep shadow, grief and pain, Where none by me beloved remain, I ever heard the echoing strain, O serve the Lord with gladness.

In sorrow and in anguish cast, When hope and joy away were passed, It oft came sounding in the blast, O serve the Lord with gladness.

But now I know the joy that stays, The ever bright and sunny rays, And soft and low I sing the praise, O serve the Lord with gladness.”

_March 3, 1868._

MY SUNNY HOME.

“A sunny home It is to me, Where through the fields and forests free O’er hill and dale I roam.

A sunny home In love’s sweet reign, Where sacrifice was ne’er a pain, Or labour wearisome.

A sunny home Where every shade Is lighted by a ray that stayed Of sun and joy to come.

A sunny home It’s still to me, When far away o’er land and sea A stranger sad I roam.”

After her return to Bucharest, Princess Elizabeth began to illuminate in water-colours in the style of a missal. These works of art were quickly completed by her clever hands. On the 23rd of November she writes in a letter from Bucharest--“Art in all its forms is but a prayer. Consequently, when it is inspired, it brings peace and joy into the hearts of others. Art places us on the Virful-cu-Dor (the Heights of Longing), and whilst she shows us the world at our feet, still she directs our longing gaze upwards. Then peace, perfect peace returns to us.”

“_Bucharest, December 26, 1874._--To-morrow at eight o’clock the poor receive their Christmas gifts. Wood and clothes are distributed to a thousand poor people. Tuesday is a festival and day of rest, on which I shall not say, ‘Oh, were I never born!’ For I am glad that I live, and can have manifold experiences, and think and hope. I think life is a blessing which has given me more than enough, for instance this translating and this painting, which comes into my life as something new and eventful. I think I must have taken some of the woodland soil of my German home away with me, and unexpected streams well up from under my feet. I am thankful to you, my earthly gods, for this, for your endless love, earnestness, and wealth of thought have made me the heiress of these your hardly-won treasures. If I have a good idea, I ask myself, ‘From which of my parents does it come, to whom am I beholden for it?’”

“_January 7, 1875._--I do not translate now, as I am writing so much myself. As soon as I take up my pen, original thoughts flow into my mind, and then it is difficult for me to transcribe the thoughts of others. What we create ourselves is the most beautiful, translating the most useful. I am always under the immediate impression of what I am reading, and so the thoughts of Bernstein, and particularly a description of the Atlantic cable, inspired my ‘Songs of the Sea.’

“Paul Keyse’s ‘Balder’ set me making verses of the same metre, which are so pleasant to compose. I have arranged a Choral Society with Lubitz, the new musician, with whom we sing in chorus. He is delighted with the Roumanian songs, melodies, and words, and will arrange them as a chorus. Our Choral Society makes good progress. Our working classes are extending, and with them the interest for the good cause. Herr Hoetsch has given us a house for the Infant School and the meetings of our Society. Three times a week 160 to 170 women fetch their work from thence. Enough flowers grow on my thorny path to refresh me.”

On the 7th of May the princely pair had moved up to Cotroceni. “The nightingales are singing, and the damp earth has an agreeable scent. It is absolutely still. The first thing I did was to set free thirty nightingales which I had bought in the market for sixty francs. Perhaps they will stay here. You should have seen how the poor little birds, still quite stiff from their fetters, at first remained on my hand, then slowly stretched their necks, and then it was but one beat of their wings and they were free! I rejoiced each time! Here I shall set to work again. What hinders me most is the want of interest of those who know too little German and too little Roumanian to be able to help me to understand. Perhaps I shall take drawing lessons from the new directress of the Asyle, Madame Pinel, a scholar of Horace Vernet, and thereby entice one young lady after the other. In this way I should be able to found a school of drawing in the same manner as the Choral Society by mixing with the scholars.”

On the 19th of July 1875 the Princess writes from Sinaia:--“How I have longed for the forest! Yesterday I told it to the Pelesch, whose rushing and foaming waterfall seemed to make moan, the leaves of the beech trees whispered and trembled and the sunbeams came flying to me. All promised me new songs, and said that if they were eternal and unceasing my poetry must be so too.”

Finding it impossible to make a fixed residence in the uncomfortable apartments which were all that the convent at Sinaia could offer, the Prince began to build a castle of his own in the woods. At the place which had been the favourite haunt of the little Princess Marie, the foundation stone of Castle Pelesch was laid on the 22nd of August 1875. The wishes of the Princess as to the spirit which should reign in this new home are laid in the foundation-stone with the archives and the coins. They are expressed as follows:--

“My thoughts they fall and flatter Like leaves from off the trees; They flutter, float, and scatter, As in a dream one sees;

And then take shape in singing And come to face of day, Leaf-thoughts life’s storm is bringing Down on my brow alway.

And out from springs deep-hidden With ever newer might Rush waves of words unbidden Brought from the gloom to light.

Brought into sight so slowly, From caverns unbeheld, Sought for with prayings lowly; Distinct, and then dispelled.

A thought of light that glideth Down from the heavenly hall, Wherever it abideth Maketh a sunbeam fall.

Of equal radiance, springing From sunset or sunrise; Of equal help for singing Or praying, I comprise.

All thoughts which bright hopes nourish In this our building--sown Like spirit-seed to flourish From its foundation-stone.”

--_Translated by Sir Edwin Arnold._

“The quiet valley of Sinaia has quite changed its character, and is now like a colony in the back woods, with wooden huts and wigwams. Twelve to fourteen languages are spoken on the place where the castle is building. The overseer of the works is the Court sculptor, Martin Stohr. His wood-carvings adorn the Castle and the Palace in Bucharest, and remind one of the first period of the Renaissance by their wonderful finish. Upon a great height among the gigantic forests, and on soil belonging to the Prince, is a magnificent stone quarry which furnishes all the stone required for the building of the castle. A small railway leads up to it, and there the Italian workmen have taken up their abode. The building of the line of railway through the Prahova Valley was begun at the same time as that of the castle.”

But the footsteps of the Princess became weary and weak again, till illness once more completely prostrated her. As she lay in bed for months, unable to put her foot to the ground, the Princess, as has already been mentioned, found courage to write down a complete account of the life of her remarkable brother, Prince Otto. Princess Elizabeth was content, in spite of her sufferings, and wrote to her mother on the 28th of November:--“You cannot fancy how grateful I am for the quiet that this winter brings. I have so often said to God in the course of the summer--‘I can no more’--that He has shown that my strength is at an end, and that I must concentrate and recover my powers. No turbulent wave swells into my boudoir, and the restlessness without only feeds the world of thought in my quiet room.”

* * * * *

“_4th December._--This quiet is more than a blessing to me. During the last year my mind and body have been craving for rest. Now I have at last attained to it, and am very thankful. Why are there so many commonplace people and so few that are interesting? They all keep a firm hold on me, like so many leeches, and do not understand that quiet peace is the ideal of life, the highest aim of the Epicureans.”

* * * * *

“_13th December._--I have finished another story, but it is a very sad one. The pictures my fancy paints are seldom bright; indeed they never were. My childish stories even were always sad and dreadful. I think that laughter dwells outside, and not within me, and is but hung about me like a bright garment. Or is it the wonderful brightness of your nature and my father’s which is struggling within me, or is it life and its sorrows? Are our sad experiences alone worth dwelling upon? Who can tell?”

* * * * *

Prince Charles was ill, and Princess Elizabeth still unable to walk. She longed for some of her family to visit her, but none of them could come to her. This increased her melancholy state of mind. “And during this long illness I tasted all the bitterness of life, the very depths of hopelessness and despair which could abide in the heart of man. But comfort is sent to all. I have my pen, which is given to me for drawing, and poetry, and which make up to me for everything! It flies ever quicker, for the stream of my thoughts flows continuously, and the scene of my labours enlarges and increases with my anxiety for the well-being of others.”

At last the Princess of Wied was expected. Her Highness arrived in May, and stayed till August with her children in Cotroceni and Sinaia, to the great delight of Princess Elizabeth, who had now quite recovered her health. This meeting, which she had so long anxiously looked forward to, found an echo in the following poem--

“Ye little blossoms, linger still! Ye nightingales prolong your trill! Thou sun a tempered radiance cast, And, Zephyr, breathe a gentler blast! She comes!

Ye grasses, don your diamond dew, And let the sunbeams twinkle through! Spread, fragrant odours, far and wide! Thou restless brook, restrain thy tide! She comes!

Beat not, my throbbing heart, so loud! No envious tears my vision shroud! Let the whole world lift up his voice And with the spring, and me, rejoice! She comes!”

After her mother had left, she writes to her in September:--“Sinaia looks the same as of old, it is so full of merriment, of life and joy. People stream in and out, and then I am quite well again. We make voyages of discovery and start on climbing excursions every day. In all states of life it is pleasanter to be the stronger one who can impart to others some of his _trop plein_ than the weak one who goes a-begging. What an enjoyment it is not to depend on others! For the first time since many years I feel as if I were carried by the air when I am walking, and yet I am no sylph. We now live in the house in the wood from half-past eight in the morning till half-past seven in the evening. It is quite ideal, like a nest amidst the green, and really a little paradise, so cosy and so warm among the fir-trees.”

When autumn comes in, Bucharest becomes once more the centre of ever-renewing duties. Then the Princess resumes her life of hard work. She rises at five in the morning, and lighting her little lamp herself, she works till eight in a room artistically adorned with paintings, palms, and towering ferns. Thick carpets hush the sound of footsteps. The walls are hung with deep-toned colours. Cosy little nooks and corners to sit in are arranged under tropical plants. The silence which surrounds the Princess is only broken by the murmur of the little fountain and the chirping of the birds. In these early morning hours the Princess works at her poetic creations, and gains strength for the cares and duties of the day.

After breakfasting alone with the Prince, businesses and audiences begin. The reception-rooms of Prince and Princess are often not empty for nine or ten hours with but short interruptions. At a particular hour the former ladies-in-waiting who have been married since then, may see the Princess without being announced. Every Thursday a concert takes place. Foreigners and natives are invited to take part on these occasions. Some times Roumanian gentlemen read aloud either a scientific French book or the works of modern Roumanian poets. Princess Elizabeth wishes to be thoroughly well-informed, and every talent finds a patroness in her. “I have arranged something very pleasant,” she writes to her mother. “Twice a week I get Vacaresco to read ancient Roumanian Chronicles to me. He is as well up in them as a professor, and holds explanatory lectures between whiles, which are open to all. Imagine my ideal room with its fountains and lamps and abatjours, the pretty girls with their work under the spreading palms, and I, pen in hand, noting down every new word. And then the curious past which is unrolled before us, in a magnificent classical Latin style, or in the primitive forms of the old books of the Bible. I hope to find subjects to work up in poetry. I am also arranging an Academy of Painting. There is to be much singing and more reading aloud. Everything that approaches me must be at work. Nobody and nothing may rest.”

“It is a peculiarity of mine to like to be surrounded by many workers. I do not at all like a _tête-à-tête_: it always wants three people to make up a pleasant conversation. In a _tête-à-tête_ one usually touches on one’s little miseries about which it is much better to be silent. I always live with open doors, so that people may come to me at any time. This is a slight alleviation to my childlessness. I only reserve the first hours from five to eight for my own work. After that I let any one disturb me, and begin with my household affairs and the menu. Consequently I often have people from ten in the morning till seven at night.”

“The Prince likes to find me at every free moment he has, and so I am always at home. He must never notice that I am at work. When he calls or I hear his footsteps, pen and paint brush are thrown away till he does not want me any more. For as he has much work to do, and sees many people, we must make use of and prize the quarters of an hour which belong to us alone. If I were to hesitate for a moment the time would be gone and could not be reclaimed. Also I think that I am first a wife, then the mother of my country, and then a poetess. But, thank God, the genius of poetry goes secretly with me to the audiences, to the forests, and to the schools, to dinners too, &c. Anything and everything gives occasion to endless studies, and I gather treasures in my memory which has ever been a trusty companion to me.”

“In politics the Prince is my oracle, and I avoid discussing them with any one else. He gives me lectures on political economy, finances, railways, and the army--everything in fact which concerns him. He has a very decided turn for organisation. All his talents are exactly the contrary of mine. Demeter Stourdza said lately that he had never seen two people so complete in one another, and yet we could not be more different, said I. ‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘the ways differ, but the idea is ever the same.’” (From letters of the Queen in May and June 1884.)

But the quiet life of the royal pair was soon interrupted by the beginning of a devastating war. The development of the fatal Eastern Question was to introduce a new epoch, which not only converted Roumania into a theatre of war, but also induced her to take an active part in it herself. This decision was crowned with many and brilliant successes.

X.

The War and its Results.

Threatening clouds had arisen on the political horizon. The condition of the Christian inhabitants of the tributary Turkish provinces had become untenable. Servia and Montenegro had declared war with Turkey. The rebellion had broken out in Bosnia, in Herzegovina, and in Bulgaria. Russia had taken up the case in a warlike spirit which drove her irresistibly forward. To free the Slavonic brothers from the yoke of Turkey was the long desired object of Panslavistic thought. The Emperor Alexander II. held it to be his sacred duty to go to the help of the oppressed Christians who were one with him in name and in faith. The decision of Russia to settle the Eastern Question by force of arms decided the point. On the 13th of November 1876 the Emperor commanded that six army corps in the south of Russia should be put in motion, and he placed them under the command of his brother, the Grand Duke Nicholas. On the 24th of April 1877 the Russian troops had crossed the Pruth and were marching through Roumania.

On the 26th of April 1877 Prince Charles of Roumania opened the extraordinary session of parliament in a solemn speech. He said--“War is broken out: our efforts in regard to Turkey and the guaranteeing powers that our neutrality should be accorded to us as our right have been without success. We have borne many sacrifices for the upholding of this neutrality, and it is required as a duty from us even by foreign cabinets. The Porte has refused even to lay our requests before the conference now assembled in Constantinople. Under these conditions Roumania, no longer supported by other powers, must in future depend upon its own exertions. It is our duty to prevent this land from becoming the theatre of war at any price, and to make any sacrifices required for this object. Such a war would reduce our towns and villages to ashes, our people would be massacred, and our riches, the fruits of the labours of a peace of twenty years, would be scattered by this war, which we did not wish for, and which has not been declared by any fault of ours.”

A few days later, on the 7th of May, the Prince had to address the assembled Senate in the following words--

“Notwithstanding all our efforts to the contrary, the war that has broken out between our two powerful neighbours has already led to disastrous results in the part of our country that lies by the Danube. Without a single bullet having fallen on our territory, our towns and villages are beginning to be ruined and deserted, for the Ottoman monitors, regardless of all international law, forced themselves into our harbours and burned and destroyed the ships that lay at anchor there, regardless of the flag under which they sailed. Unprotected towns, as Braila, and particularly Reni, have been bombarded. Olteniza, where not the smallest division of the Russian army is to be found, shared the same fate. Marauding bands of Bashi-Bazouks have disturbed the peace of the country in various places, have crossed the Danube, and have burnt the ships lying at anchor in the river Jiul in the harbour of Beket, and destroyed the dwellings of the people.”

Nothing more remained to be done but for Roumania to get rid of the enemy by main force. On the 8th of May the Turks had opened a bombardment on Kalafat from Widdin. Their cannon balls fell into the Danube, and their firing was answered by the Roumanian forts. Thus fell the first Roumanian shot against the Turks. The cannon had spoken, and had settled the question. “Now the bands that connected us with Turkey are broken,” said the Roumanians, “and may they be eternally severed. The time of our guardianship by foreign powers and the times of our servitude is over. Roumania is and will remain a free and independent state.”

The declaration of the independence of Roumania was solemnly announced to the people on the 22nd of May 1877. “From the day on which I set foot on this ground I became a Roumanian,” said the Prince to his subjects. “From the day on which I ascended this throne which has become famous by many great and glorious Princes, the ideas of those Princes have become the dominant idea of my reign--namely, the resurrection of Roumania and the fulfilment of her mission in the mouths of the Danube.” Prince Charles had already signed a convention with Russia, and a Russo-Roumanian alliance followed soon after.

The war was now in full swing! On the 27th of May a cannonade had taken place between Kalafat and Widdin. The battery of Carol I., with which were the Prince and his suite, and the officers of the staff, fired the first shot. After the second shot, all the Turkish batteries began to open fire, and a lively cannonade was continued on both sides. The first bombshell flew over the battery of Carol I., and burst quite close to where the Prince was standing, but without doing him any harm. “Charles has brought me the bombshell which burst at his side,” writes the Princess. “They told me that he stood on the ramparts surrounded by shot and shell. Some of the people crossed themselves, and Greciano fell on his knees, for he thought his Prince was wounded. But Charles waved his cap and cried ‘Hurrah! Bravo! Je suis habitué à cette musique-là!’ Then a loud hurrah! resounded from all the batteries, and was taken up by the whole camp, from whence it extended to the town, and all the military bands began to play the National Anthem. It must have been a thrilling moment! Three bombshells burst later in the battery where Charles stood. In Craiova they wished to unharness the horses and drag the carriage themselves, and threw wreaths and bouquets, doves, and even small loaves of bread into his carriage.” Carmen Sylva’s enthusiastic poem, entitled “Kalafat,” was written in honour of this memorable day.

KALAFAT.

“Downward the Danube floweth broad, So strength-assured, so peaceable; Fast in her arms the land she holds, And to her soft heart closely folds Those marches she must cover well.

Widdin and Kalafat stand there Backed in the golden evening gleam, And quiet broodeth over all-- Lo! thunders peal and lightnings fall! The firm earth shakes, smoke veils the stream!

See, hissing in the golden flood, And shrilly whistling through the air, Flung from black fiery cannon-mouth Brotherly greetings hustle forth! The dreadful shells fly here and there!

High on the topmost parapet There stands Prince Karl so tranquilly. Men! Gaze straight in the eyes of death, Your leader nothing pondereth Of dangers which around him be.

He looks with earnest countenance Afield, and asks if Fortune’s hand Will help him storm with footmen brave Widdin, and bridge blue Danube’s wave For passage of his hero band.

But ah! One pace in front of him A crash, a sparkling, splintering shock! Startled they see, where that bomb came, Their Prince amid a sea of flame Erect, alone, firm as the rock.

One soldier wildly signs the cross, Another sinks upon his knees-- ‘Our Prince is hurt, O cruel fate! The only helmsman of the State.’ Lamentingly so clamour these.

But he, his war-cap waving high Clear and alert, from manly breast Cries out--‘The music suits me so; This is my tune, this air I know! Hurrah! Now have I of life’s best.’

And Danube heard the martial voice, Her deep heart thrilled, she knew its tone; Her waves, as they went limpid by, Responded in serene reply To Hohenzollern’s noble son.”

--_Translated by Sir Edwin Arnold._