Part 13

The deputations of peasants now passed before the throne. These honest men were visibly affected, and many among them wiped a tear from his eye with his rough hand. Most of them threw themselves at the feet of their Majesties, and did homage to them, kissing the steps of their throne. With touching simplicity and much difficulty others threw addresses of congratulation out of their pockets, coat-sleeves, and pocket-books, depositing them at the feet of the royal pair; whilst others brought branches of fir-trees which they had gathered in their native mountains and anxiously preserved during their long journey. Later in the day, the whole concourse of the country people were encamped before the town, where a banquet with music awaited them, the enjoyment of which was heightened by the presence and affable manners of the King. There was a brilliant illumination in the evening. The peasants were enchanted “to see the sun at night,” as they expressed themselves! And the Court with its guests found it difficult to wend its way through the elated crowds.

Notwithstanding her delicate health the Queen had borne the fatigues of that day tolerably. She says--“We spoke with eight hundred people on that day, from eleven o’clock till half-past four, and at half-past eight we were again ‘sous les armes!’ Then came a procession of torches, and a drive round the town to see the illuminations. At last I could not bow any more, but only wave with my handkerchief. Fortunately they had stopped the cheering, as I could stand it no longer. This enormous and now silent crowd, which greeted us and nodded and waved in the most demonstrative manner, and the stamping of those feet and hoofs which one did not see, made a most weird and charming impression. Yes, from morning to night, the 22nd of May was a beautiful day!” Seldom has a day been marked with so much fervour and unaffected devotion as this day on which the people of Roumania came in such crowds to do homage to their King! This day has become a day of national rejoicing for the Roumanians. On the 22nd of May 1866 Prince Charles of Roumania first entered Bucharest. Eleven years later, on the 22nd of May 1877, Roumania was declared independent. And on the 22nd of May 1881 the first King of Roumania was crowned. These three historically important events make clear to us in a few words the gradual development of this young kingdom.

Thus Roumania had not alone gained her independence by means of the war and its brilliant results, but had been incorporated as a kingdom amongst the European States. A strictly constitutional monarch is the emblem of the banner which Prince Charles upholds at his distant post. The object of his life is to strengthen his country within and without, and to further its political and social development. Future generations only will be able to understand and acknowledge to its full extent all that he has done for Roumania.

XI.

Work for the Country.

In the second half of this century, royal ladies have realised that their duty consisted in actively promoting all works of charity and encouraging them by their influence, as well as furthering the social and educational welfare of their people. And that this practical knowledge which can adapt itself to circumstances can be combined with ideal interests and high endeavours, is demonstrated by the noble and beautiful example of Queen Elizabeth of Roumania. It is the highest joy of artistic natures to see one of their own conceptions carried out and to find it flourish and expand. In this the educator is to be compared to the artist, for character is formed by the educational artist. A longing desire to educate others had possessed Queen Elizabeth from earliest youth. When we see her making the education of children one of her first objects, we know that it is prompted by true and heartfelt feelings.

The Queen follows the course of studies and the development of the pupils in the Asyle Hélène, the orphanage already alluded to, with peculiar interest. The well-known Doctor Davela had founded and endowed this institution with his private means, and conducted it personally for many years aided by his excellent wife. Both died too soon. They bequeathed their care for the orphans as a legacy to the Queen. Four hundred and sixty young girls are now educated there from their fifth to their twentieth year. There they are taught all sciences, the arts, foreign languages, needlework, book-keeping, &c., and remain in the institution till they have passed their final examination as governesses or otherwise. The good name of this institution is so widely known that young men look for a wife from the Asyle Hélène, as they know she will be capable. Many merchants, clergymen, and schoolmasters come to the Principals of the College and ask them as a favour to recommend a young girl to them whom they consider fit for their mode of life. A meeting is arranged, and if the young people suit one another, they are usually married in the Chapel of the Asyle. If the pupils marry clergymen or schoolmasters, most of them become teachers in their new home, and are capable of earning three hundred francs a month.

The Queen does not often visit the institutions--“And then only to encourage and help them.” “For I find,” she says, “that we do well to let those act who understand the matter better than we do. The Grand Duchess Hélène, who is my example, displayed her interest in such things by caring for every detail rather than by visiting them.” The royal lady is present at all the examinations in the girls’ school, as well as at the School of Music. She awards the prizes with her own hands, and increases their value by kind and considerate words which delight both teachers and scholars.

The Queen founded a School of Embroidery, “The Scola Elisabeta Doamna,” at her own expense. At this institution seventy of the poorest peasant girls receive free instruction in reading and writing, and especially in the national embroidery. Very beautiful patterns, mostly Byzantine, are collected and used to decorate the national costumes. The peasant girls often copy the patterns on ancient ecclesiastical robes, or imitate a natural flower with a needle and thread. Certain styles of embroidery are hereditary and peculiar to each district. Thus many and original combinations are formed, and the eye is attracted by their ever-varying colour and form. All Roumanian women, whether high or lowly, have an inborn and highly cultivated eye for colour. They execute minute and difficult patterns most tastefully upon the peculiar linen woven in the country.

The first society for the help of the poor which the Queen arranged was the “Société Elisabeth.” It distributes yearly thirty thousand francs’ worth of fuel to the poor. This society, to which about one hundred ladies belong, arranges two to four balls every winter, which take place in the Opera House with a Tombala. These balls are honoured by the presence of the King and Queen and the members of the aristocracy. All the ladies wear the Roumanian costume on these evenings, in order that the peasant women may earn a good sum in winter by the sale of their embroideries. Under the patronage of the Queen societies of the same description have sprung up in many parts of the country.

Not only does the large charitable association “Société de bienfaisance” owe its origin to the Queen, but her Majesty has also started the German “Frauenverein” in Roumania. “The Albina” gives work to poor women who can only do rough sewing. Ten years ago this idea was started by six poor women thus finding employment--now a thousand can get work there. A hundred and thirty of these have already bought sewing-machines, and the numbers increase daily. Now (1888) they furnish thirty thousand tents for the army, and sew all trousers, shirts, cravats, sheets, and sacks for the soldiers, as well as for the prisons and hospitals. When wood is distributed to the poor by the Société Elisabeth, these women are considered first. A fourth society is called “Concordia,” and its object is to encourage all branches of native industry in the country, amongst which weaving is especially furthered. Although hemp grows wild in Roumania, all material for the linen used by the army and the public institutions had till then been brought from foreign countries. New Schools of Weaving are instituted, and the looms that have been idle for years have been improved and put in motion. In order to carry out these plans for the benefit of the country, the Queen had written a letter to the Ministers, which was published in the newspapers. In this letter she sought their help in encouraging weaving in the country, and guaranteeing that the State would undertake the goods produced. This object could only be attained if the requirements of the army, the hospitals, and prisons could be produced and manufactured in the country.

As we have already mentioned whilst describing the “Société Albina,” its efforts have been crowned with success. On the tableland of Cotroceni, not far from the Asyle Hélène, lie the huge barracks in which Queen Elizabeth nursed the wounded during the war. The new School of Weaving is established there for the present. At first only forty looms could be employed, but Parliament has voted two hundred thousand francs for the building of a new School for Weaving. The building required is to be erected on the great piece of land before the barracks which King Charles had presented to the orphanage. “We shall then use the barracks for the manufacture of silk,” writes the Queen, “for which the land has been planted with mulberry trees. So one school after another will be erected around us, following my motto, ‘Industry in the home,’ and will, please God, open out new sources of wealth to our country.”

To the “Concordia” is added the Society of the “Fornica,” which buys Roumanian work only, such as embroidery, and the stuffs that are woven and spun, and sells them again in a bazaar held for the purpose. The peasant women bring the shirts they have sewn, and their strips of embroidery, and bless their Queen for having brought such honour to their national costume. Branches of this institution have sprung up in many towns. They embroider a great deal in the mountains, as they have less hard work in the fields there. In the plains, the women can only embroider in the winter, as they must guide the oxen in the plough in summer. In the workshop of the little mountain town of Campo Lungo four hundred women are employed.

In imitation of the German kitchens for the people, the Queen has arranged soup kitchens in many parts of the town, where the poor children from the Schools of Embroidery receive their daily dinners from her.

During the war the Queen also started a Home for Nursing Sisters at her own expense. She began with two sisters, of whom she sent one to the Deaconesses of Bethany at Berlin to be taught. The Deaconesses of Bucharest wear a dark grey costume, with a white veil and apron, which are picturesquely arranged. A black cross on a lilac ribbon is worn round the neck. “Now there are more than twenty of them at Bucharest, and they increase in numbers, and are much thought of. Many of them lately passed their examinations, and received certificates for practising simple surgery. They nurse in hospitals and private houses for five francs a day, and are often sent for in the town. The rich often give more than is asked, which enables the sisters to visit the poor free of charge, and to bring them food and medicine. Now five thousand francs have been voted for the School of Embroidery, and twenty thousand for the Home for the Sisters. We hope to build a house of our own with our savings, with a little hospital beside it, and to have something over for aged and infirm sisters. I shall add to this a School for Monthly Nurses, as so many women die in their confinement.”

Queen Elizabeth belongs to those highly favoured ladies who, though surrounded by the pomp and state of royalty, can sympathise with the sorrows of the poor and suffering, and combine with this a lofty ideal of the intellectual duties of life. The Queen does not weary of helping where help is required. None appeal to her in vain if they are really in need. Where poverty is to be relieved, or cares to be lightened, the Queen’s practical mind ever finds the right means and the best manner of doing it. Her constant endeavour is to promote the cultivation and industry of the country, and to awake a feeling of self-confidence in the nation. To work for others is the source of her own happiness. The following poem will show how anxious the Queen is to fulfil her duties towards the country.

THE PEOPLE’S MOTHER.

“If millions call thee their mother, and borrow Of thee some comfort in grief and care, E’en though thou too hast known pain and sorrow, Yet never, never must thou despair.

Thou must stand firm and thy heart must fail not, While breakers roar through the tempest wild, Calm words of faith on thy lips, that pale not, And on thy forehead hope’s radiance mild.

Thou must behold, with a gaze undaunted, The dark abyss, that no mists conceal, Thy head upraised, thy foot firmly planted, Thy hand aye open to help and heal.

All thoughts of self must be banished ever, Thy people’s life must thine own life be. The voice of passion--oh! heed it never, Thou may’st lead millions to rise with thee.

If anguish conquer, or sin enslave them, If poor and lowly or nobly born-- All are thy children, forgive and save them, The sick, the sinful, the weak and worn.

Let then thy bounty, unchecked, unending, Flow forth, a blessing o’er all the land, Like dews from Heaven on earth descending, Refresh thy people with heart and hand.”

XII.

Carmen Sylva.

The poetical talents of Queen Elizabeth, which she was so anxious to hide from public view, have proved beneficial to her vocation as mother of her country. A critic might perhaps object to the absence of strict rules in her poetry, but we rejoice to find such originality in thought and feeling. The royal lady writes of what she has thought and felt in a vivid and life-like manner. A desire to communicate her feelings to others induces her to write poetry. She says,--“When a thought takes possession of me, it is not that I will, but I must put it into words, and insert it in a poem, or it leaves me no peace. How often have I bitterly bewailed my poetic talent, and rebelled against Providence for placing such a burden upon my shoulders; and now I know that it is my greatest happiness, and a blessing to me which can also give pleasure to others. My greatest wish is to write in such a manner that all may think they have written it themselves. I do not wish to be anything more than the voice which clothes the truth in acceptable forms and takes all its harshness from it. Thus I can ease many a heart of its burden, and what happiness it is to show the beauties of truth, to realise and represent the beautiful.

“‘Like an eagle the poet, as bold and as free, And warm as the glow of the sunshine must be; Like the sensitive plant he must tremble and quake, Now wild as a torrent, now calm as a lake.’

“The outer forms of what one writes have only to do with what one has learnt. The ideas have to be lived through, and can only be based on the past experiences which formed one’s character. This is my comfort when I tremble lest my talent should come to an end. It is not at an end, for I yet live and learn. How often I have struggled against writing anything down for weeks and months. But it holds me as a spell till it is written down. Then I forget it, and so utterly and entirely that I often do not even recognise my own thoughts. After all, writing is only a discharge of electricity. But the battery cannot be properly replenished when the body is weakened. Every carefully finished work is a step upon which one can set one’s foot firmly and safely in order to rise higher. This can only be, of course, if one’s whole powers, one’s best self is put into the work. As one cannot give to one’s labour more than one has, every intellectual power we have attained to should tell in our work and make itself felt. People have said that sorrow made me a poetess. But that is not so. Poetry is quite independent of the outer world, of sickness or trial. I never know what I shall write a week hence. I like to be surprised. But when an idea takes hold of me, I do not get rid of it even for years until it is written down. I have never had time, and if all my ideas were not clear in my head before I take up my pen, they would never see the light.”

The Princess has called the little volume in which she has rendered the treasures of National Roumanian poetry in German “Roumanian Poetry,” and has thus introduced it to her Fatherland. A collection of the poems of O. Alecsandri, Bolintenu, Candianu, Popescu, Cretzanu, Eminescu, Konaki, Negruzzi, Scherbanescu, and Torceanu are here rendered in their own metre, and treated in a manner which brings out the characteristics of each poet.

“I did not think of publishing my translations of Roumanian poetry when I wrote them. It was Frau Mite Kremnitz who took them from me by force years after. They appeared in a paper under the pseudonym of E. Wedi, and later, in 1878, also in the magazine of Foreign Literature. Still I cannot get over the dreadful feeling of being dragged before the world even under the disguise of E. Wedi. That is the only thing that spoils my pleasure.”

A ballad, “Virful cu Dor” (The Heights of Longing), was set to music in 1876, and was performed on the stage of the National Theatre at Bucharest, and afterwards at various other places. The Queen wrote to her mother from Sinaia in September 1875:--

“I have written a libretto from the old legend of “Virful cu Dor,” for which Lubitz has composed the music. It is a little ballad, which is very effective with its choruses, solos, and duets, and it could be represented with _tableaux vivants_ as well. It gives the songs of the Spirits of the Mists in the third canto--the rushing of wind announces the coming of Spring. The trees and the brooks awake from their slumbers. Yesterday we finished arranging the “Song of the Wind” for a bass voice, and it is so poetical that the poem is placed in a new light. I write the words out for you, as they are a poem by themselves. I have given the most beautiful ideas to my friend the West Wind--

“‘Come forth, all ye blossoms! Start, seeds from the land; Ye songs of birds, waken, I, Spring, am at hand!

My touch on the fir boughs, My kiss in the air, Makes odours of Heaven Spread sweet everywhere.

And the fragrance and splendour Of meadow and grove I give for a bride-wreath In free gift to Love.

Come forth, then, blue violets! Spring calleth on you, Wake, leaflets and flowerets, For Love’s coming too!’”

--_Translated by Sir Edwin Arnold._

Whilst still a Princess, Carmen Sylva had written a French comedy, “Revenans et Revenus,” for the society of Bucharest. She also put down many very deep and often very philosophical aphorisms in French at that time. These were not intended for publication at first. When the Queen was induced to put these pages in the hands of Herr Ulbach she hesitated at first. But he kept looking up at her whilst he was reading and repeated--“Oh! mais c’est très fort, mais c’est vraiment très fort, celá!” and begged for a copy. Later they were published at Paris with the title “Pensées d’une Reine,” with an introduction by Ulbach. In the spring of 1888 a new, improved, and enlarged edition was published there, to which the Academy accorded a prize. This consists of a gold, a silver, and a bronze coin which bear the title of the work thus crowned, “Les Pensées d’une Reine,” with the date of 1888. They contain rich treasures of deep thought, as for instance--

“Les comètes et les grands hommes laissent une trainée de lumière dans laquelle s’agite une foule d’atômes.”

“Beaucoup de gens ne critiquent que pour ne pas paraître ignorans. Ils ignorent que l’indulgence est la marque de la plus haute culture.”

“La souffrance est une lourde charrue, conduite par une main de fer. Plus le sol est ingrat et rebelle, plus elle le déchire, plus il est riche, plus elle s’enfonce.”

“La nuit tout est de feu, les étoiles, les pensées et les larmes.”

On an occasion in Bucharest during which there was a display of fireworks, this aphorism suddenly appeared in letters of flame, to the great surprise of the Queen.

In years of deep sorrow the first chapters of “The Pilgrimage of Sorrow,” “Sappho,” “Hammerstein,” “Over the Waters,” and “Shipwreck” appeared. The four last mentioned poems were published together, and called “Storms.” Carmen Sylva dedicates this work “To the unseen heroism of women,” with the following poem--

“Unto you--who have courage and patience for woe, Whose souls by earth’s fire are annealed; Whose hearts the fierce furnace of passion aglow Hath sanctified, purified, steeled.

Unto you--who in tempest of misery caught Lift heads with an unabashed daring; Unto you, who in solemn sereness of thought The burdens of life are bearing!

Unto you--who like sunbeams, that palpitate, bring Brightness and warmth--and those only! Chief givers of grace and of gladdening To the earth, else so frozen and lonely.

Unto you--who with brave lips set firm in a smile Over mountains of trouble have wended; Who, cheered by no clarions of glory erewhile, Have in glorious battles contended.

Battles, where no hand the bright laurel twines, But where tears fall, bitter and hidden-- To you--to the undeclared heroines, This ‘Book of the Women’ is bidden.”

--_Translated by Sir Edwin Arnold._

“I was much hurried whilst writing ‘Hammerstein’ and ‘Sappho,’ for I always thought that death would overtake me before their completion. I wrote ‘Sappho’ because I was angry with Grillparzer, for I thought that a noble and elevated feeling should act upon so grand a character as that of Sappho. Instead of making a noble and elevated character out of this struggling and suffering woman, the poet thought he had a right to desecrate her. It seemed to me unworthy of her to throw herself into the sea because she had been deceived. It was more natural and poetical to sacrifice herself for her child. It is characteristic of me that I cannot regard what is termed ‘Love’ as the motive power of all actions.

“Sappho lived in Sicily, surrounded by young girls, to whom she taught the art of poetry. I have amused myself in making portraits of my maids of honour.”

Carmen Sylva read the poem, in which she had depicted the sad trials of the life of Sappho, to the young friends around her.

“Will ye the last of love-melodies hearken, Which from the lips of the poetess flowed at the end of her singing? Sappho her voice uplifted, and softly the music resounded, Whilst round about stood listening intent her lovely companions.

‘Of the power I sing, world-mastering, Which beauty to beauty enchains; Whereto the gods bow, and the earth in her swing-- To which all that is born pertains.

I sing of the might that in flowers leaps to light, What wakes the still seed from its rest; Which glows on the cheek of the maiden bright, And burns in her lover’s breast.

To that god sing I so, who with echoing bow Sweet endless confusion brings; Who conquers all hearts, for their weal or their woe, Who startles--and stabs--and stings.’”