An Observer in the Near East

by William Le Queux

The jeunesse dorée are an effeminate and extravagant crowd. Gambling permeates the whole of society, and large sums are lost and won every evening. I know personally one member of the Roumanian Cabinet who thinks nothing of losing or winning a couple or three thousand pounds each week at cards. He plays every afternoon at the Club, and is always open to play any comer for any stake proposed, no matter what it may be.

Bucharest is a typical capital of a wealthy, easy-going country. The people are charitable, and spend freely—when they have it. The shop-windows, where the most expensive table delicacies are displayed, show the foreigner the Roumanians’ extravagance in eating, while the dresses one sees on the giddy women-folk are as up to date as any that one notices in the Champs Elysées, the Bois, or at the Opera. Yet amid all this up-to-dateness the old horse-tram still survives and jogs along, and the patient white oxen toil slowly through the streets, dragging their heavy springless carts.

Unlike Sofia, or in Belgrade, peasants are seldom met with in the streets of Bucharest. One may go a whole week without coming across a woman in national costume, unless, of course, the market is specially visited. I, however, met, in Bucharest, Mr. Harold Hartley, one of the directors of the Earl’s Court Exhibition, and we made many pleasant excursions into the country together. To the traveller from Western Europe the city is highly interesting and full of curious types, especially of the young elegant, whose present fashion, it seems, is to shave only the front of his chin and cheeks and grow a beard all round, very similar in cut to that of a monkey.

The Royal Palace: Bucharest.

Boulevard Elisabeta: Bucharest.

When one recollects that about forty years ago Roumania was a semi-civilised nation, and Bucharest a little Oriental town, its present size and splendour are astounding. To King Charles’ rule much of this progress is due, and in order to celebrate the fortieth year of his reign there has recently been held a very pretty Exhibition, a miniature of the great Exhibition of Paris. It was, I found, most interesting, and fortunately it has been decided to preserve several of the more important buildings, including a really excellent replica of a Roman amphitheatre. The gaming-room is also to be preserved, of course, for the “little horses” have great attraction for the merry people of Bucharest.

Yes, this Paris of the East is indeed a strange place, especially to those used to Western morals and manners. Everyone lives far above his income, for there seems no limit to extravagance. Prices are often extortionate. As an example, I was charged at one restaurant half a crown for a whisky-and-soda! At a shop across the street the charge for the same whisky was 6 fr. 50 c. a bottle.

Several of the restaurants are excellent, notably the Enescu, behind the royal palace, a big place, where the best Tzigane music in Roumania is provided gratis. The gipsy band is under one Christache Ciolac, a famous violinist, who one day will no doubt make his mark in London. The orchestra of the Enescu ought to be imported to one of our smart restaurants and it would create a great sensation, for our present so-called Roumanian music cannot be compared with the real thing. Here, at Enescu’s, there is no dressing up in fancy costumes—not even dress-coats. But the music is there, the strange weird gipsy melodies and dances that run in one’s head for days afterwards.