I afterwards met Sturdza several times in restaurants and drawing-rooms without his attempting to carry out his threats. This man, whose nature was that of a daring adventurer, afterwards deserted to the Russian army, and fought against us at a time when Roumania still was neutral. I then completely lost sight of him.
The absolute freedom of the Press in the Balkan States, combined with the brutality of the prevailing customs, produced the most varied results, even going so far as abuse of their own kings. In this connection King Carol gave me many drastic instances. While King Ferdinand was still neutral, one of the comic papers contained a picture of the King taking aim at a hare, while underneath were these words, supposed to come from the hare: "My friend, you have long ears, I have long ears; you are a coward, I am a coward. Wherefore would my brother shoot me?"
On the day when war broke out this freedom of the Press was diverted into a different channel and replaced by the severest control and censorship.
Roumania is a land of contrasts, both as regards the landscape, the climate, and social conditions. The mountainous north, with the wonderful Carpathians, is one of the most beautiful districts. Then there are the endless, unspeakably monotonous, but fertile plains of Wallachia, leading into the valley of the Danube, which is a very Paradise. In spring particularly, when the Danube each year overflows its banks, the beauty of the landscape baffles description. It is reminiscent of the tropics, with virgin forests standing in the water, and islands covered with luxuriant growth scattered here and there. It is an ideal country for the sportsman. All kinds of birds, herons, ducks, pelicans, and others, are to be met with, besides wolves and wild cats, and days may be spent in rowing and walking in this Paradise without wearying of it.
The Roumanians usually care but little for sport, being averse to physical exertion. Whenever they can they leave the country and spend their time in Paris or on the Riviera. This love of travel is so strong in them that a law was passed compelling them to spend a certain portion of the year in their own country or else pay the penalty of a higher tax. The country people, in their sad poverty, form a great contrast to the enormously wealthy Bojars. Although very backward in everything relating to culture, the Roumanian peasant is a busy, quiet, and easily satisfied type, unpretentious to a touching degree when compared with the upper classes.
Social conditions among the upper ten thousand have been greatly complicated owing to the abolition of nobility, whereby the question of titles plays a part unequalled anywhere else in the world. Almost every Roumanian has a title derived from one or other source; he values it highly, and takes it much amiss when a foreigner betrays his ignorance on the subject. As a rule, it is safer to adopt the plan of addressing everyone as "Mon prince." Another matter difficult for a foreigner to grasp is the real status of Roumanian society, owing to the incessant divorce and subsequent remarriages. Nearly every woman has been divorced at least once and married again, the result being, on the one hand, the most complicated questions of relationship, and, on the other, so many breaches of personal relations as to make it the most difficult task to invite twenty Roumanians, particularly ladies, to dinner without giving offence in some quarter.
In the days of the old régime it was one of the duties of the younger members of the Embassy to develop their budding diplomatic talents by a clever compilation of the list for such a dinner and a wise avoidance of any dangerous rock ahead. But as the question of rank in Roumania is taken just as seriously as though it were authorised, every lady claims to have first rank—the correct allotment of places at a dinner is really a question for the most efficient diplomatic capacities. There were about a dozen ladies in Bucharest who would actually not accept an invitation unless they were quite sure the place of honour would be given to them.
My predecessor cut the Gordian knot of these difficulties by arranging to have dinner served at small separate tables, thus securing several places of honour, but not even by these means could he satisfy the ambition of all.
2
While at Sinaia I received the news of the assassination of the Archduke from Bratianu. I was confined to bed, suffering from influenza, when Bratianu telephoned to ask if I had heard that there had been an accident to the Archduke's train in Bosnia, and that both he and the duchess were killed. Soon after this first alarm came further news, leaving no doubt as to the gravity of the catastrophe. The first impression in Roumania was one of profound and sincere sympathy and genuine consternation. Roumania never expected by means of war to succeed in realising her national ambitions; she only indulged in the hope that a friendly agreement with the Monarchy would lead to the union of all Roumanians, and in that connection Bucharest centred all its hopes in the Archduke and heir to the throne. His death seemed to end the dream of a Greater Roumania, and the genuine grief displayed in all circles in Roumania was the outcome of that feeling. Take Jonescu, on learning the news while in my wife's drawing-room, wept bitterly; and the condolences that I received were not of the usual nature of such messages, but were expressions of the most genuine sorrow. Poklewski, the Russian Ambassador, is said to have remarked very brutally that there was no reason to make so much out of the event, and the general indignation that his words aroused proved how strong was the sympathy felt in the country for the murdered Archduke.