From need and misfortune preserve it secure;
From sin keep its little heart, keep it aye pure;
Lead Thou it Thyself all its journey below.
One only I have, as Thou, Father, dost know.
The book contained poems from the time of her confirmation till her thirtieth year.
During the Russo-Turkish War in 1877 Roumania was drawn into the conflict. One of the results was that the independence of Roumania was declared. The principality became a kingdom, and Prince Charles and Princess Elizabeth were crowned King and Queen. During the war the Princess set a noble example of what her biographer describes as “the inborn deaconess-calling of every woman.” The throne-room was converted into a workroom, where, under her immediate superintendence, linen and bandages were prepared. Women of all ranks and nationalities went in and out, and vied with each other in providing things for the army in the field. Out of her own means the Princess furnished a barrack hospital of a hundred beds, which she looked after herself. She extended her activity to all the other hospitals also that were organised. She ministered to all the wounded that were brought from the battle-field. Day and night she sought to comfort and encourage them. To many a dying man she spoke the last words of consolation; many received from her hand the pain-deadening chloroform. She induced many to submit to have limbs amputated. The Roumanian soldier prefers death to amputation. “Better die than be a beggar man,” he says. To one young soldier she pointed out that he had a long life before him, and ought to submit to the operation. “For love of you, Regina,” he sighed. She exercised a great moral influence over the suffering. Among the people she was called “The mother of the wounded.” Her strength seemed to be doubled in times of danger, when the claims upon her services were the greatest. She was always collected, and never lost her presence of mind, whatever agitation and despondency prevailed around her. When, in her anxiety about her husband and the army, she could only sleep for two or three hours, she would seek to divert her mind with music and poetry half the night, and at four in the morning she would walk up and down, and mentally arrange the work of the ensuing day. During the war she founded a sisterhood, defraying the expenses out of her own pocket. At first there were only two sisters, but in 1884 the number had increased to twenty. In hospitals and private houses they give their services for five francs a day, and are much in demand. Rich people often pay more, and thus the sisters can attend to the poor gratuitously. Other useful societies owe their origin to the Queen. As might have been expected, the moral and physical strain of the war time severely tried her. She has been subject to repeated attacks of fever. At the beginning of 1883 she had a dangerous illness, which excited the fears and sympathies of the whole Roumanian people. Her patience, gentleness, and consideration for all around her were very touching. She was saved by means of a successful operation. The King took her to Italy, and from thence to Neuwied. When they returned to Roumania, Castle Pelesch was near completion. In October, 1883, it was solemnly dedicated, in presence of all the high officials of the nation.
It is not many years ago since her poems became widely known. The Queen herself would never have thought of publishing them, had not numberless copies passed into various hands. Then she thought that “if they are worth the tiresome labour of copying, so are they of being printed.”
One of her most important volumes of poetry, if not the most important, of which a new edition has lately appeared, is called after the seat of her family, which has several times been mentioned in the course of this sketch, “Meine Ruh” (Mon Repos). It contains ballads and lyrical poems.
Some of the deepest questions that can occupy the human mind have been treated by her in other volumes.
Still in middle age, she carries forward her beneficent work, and we may hope in due time (far distant may the day be!) that the public may have the opportunity of reading the completed story of her life, which has been so well told in the volume from which we have derived all our information concerning her. The Baroness von Stachelberg is hardly guilty of any exaggeration when she says that “as woman, as Princess, as Queen, Carmen Sylva is one of the noblest and most remarkable of her sex.”