CHAPTER XVIII

Convict life in the salt--mines--A Roumanian Jack Sheppard--The trick that laid him low--Procedure in murder cases--The reconstruction of the crime--Scant justice for servants: no Habeas Corpus Act in Roumania--A man whose face was the only evidence against him--Gipsies and the building trade: the men act as masons and bricklayers, the women as their labourers--Exhibition of new clothes when a roof is put on--Fiddling ragamuffins--Gipsies as musicians--Guarding against gipsies in the Carpathians.

Prison accommodation in Roumania is considerably better now than it used to be. The cells are light and airy, and the prison fare is not worse than in other countries. Capital punishment is not inflicted. If a person be convicted of a capital crime, his sentence will be imprisonment in the salt-mines for life or for a long term of years. These salt-mines are situated at Ocna Mare, and it is quite an interesting experience to pay a visit to them. Before descending into the depths, visitors are required to don a large loose overall to protect their clothes. The descent in the cage is soon over, and one finds oneself in a large hall hewn out of the solid salt, which, when lighted up, flashes out brilliant colours innumerable. The prisoners make the descent every morning, and stay below for a certain number of hours for work, after which they are re-conducted to their prison home. They are allowed to manufacture small articles of salt, wood, etc., and stalls are arranged in the courtyard of the prison on which these articles are exposed for sale, the prisoners themselves acting as salesmen.

For a nervous person it is not at all reassuring to find oneself suddenly in the midst of such surroundings. Some of the prisoners have a very dogged, obstinate expression; and when one remarks among the articles for sale numbers of large, strongly made knives, one involuntarily begins to wonder what would happen if the prisoners should each seize a knife and make a sudden dash for freedom. Should _we_ be attacked, or should we not? Evidently such a supposition has occurred to no one else; or is it that such precautions have been taken that a rising on the part of the prisoners is out of the question?

Occasionally, however, a prisoner does effect his escape. Some years ago a noted robber who was undergoing a long term of punishment succeeded in getting out of prison. He was rearrested, and again this modern Jack Sheppard got the better of his captors, commencing a fresh villainous career, and it may be remarked that he did not stop at robberies by any means. The prison authorities became quite wearied out with this man, so devised a plan to get rid of him entirely. The last place at which he was arrested was Galatz, where there is a fairly large garden. On a certain day and at a certain hour the public were absolutely forbidden to enter this garden, a sentry being stationed at each gate to see that the order was obeyed. The prisoner was then taken under strong escort to be transferred to another place of detention, and the way led through the garden. The guards were chatting and laughing together, so the prisoner thought it a favourable moment to elude them. He was a very agile man, and started off full speed, but had not got very far when three shots rang out and he was laid low, his inglorious career ended for ever. It seemed rather a mean trick; but as the death penalty is never inflicted, no other means of getting rid of him could be devised.

What always appeared very strange to me was the procedure in a murder case, but I believe it is similar to that adopted in France. If a person be arrested on a charge of murder, he undergoes a first examination, and is then taken to the scene of the murder. Everything is arranged as it is supposed to have been when the murder was committed. Even the body of the victim is present. It is presumed that revisiting the scene and recalling the terrible occurrence may betray the accused man into some expression of feeling or even into a confession of guilt. The whole idea is gruesome, and it seems to me to take an unfair advantage of the prisoner.

Principles of justice and fairplay are not quite so developed in the East as in the West. For instance, a servant who is accused of theft by his master or mistress gets a good thrashing first of all at the police-court in order to induce him to confess his guilt, and also to divulge where he has hidden the stolen property. It is against all law to act in such a way, but the servant does not dare complain.

It is not at all a difficult matter for a person who occupies a high position in the capital to have another of lesser degree, such as a servant or a workman, imprisoned. A word to the police, and the victim will be arrested and kept perhaps for days without a charge being brought against him. But a complaint is never brought forward for false imprisonment, nor would such a complaint be considered. A lady of my acquaintance once engaged a man-servant of rather unprepossessing appearance. One night after retiring to rest she was awakened by suspicious noises in the house. She immediately conceived the idea that this man of evil looks was bent on actions to correspond. As she always kept a policeman’s rattle near at hand, she at once rushed to the window and sounded it. In a few minutes two policemen arrived, and a house search was instituted. Nowhere could the man-servant be found, till finally the kitchen was reached, where he was discovered lying across the table fast asleep, or pretending to sleep, with a huge knife beside him. This looked so suspicious that he was immediately arrested and taken to the police-court. The lady was asked if she could accuse him of any wrong-doing, but as she really had nothing definite to formulate, only suspicions to go upon, no charge could be made against him. He was, however, detained for three or four days before being set at liberty.

In Roumania gipsies form an interesting section of the community; they are always employed where building is going on. The men are engaged as stone-masons and bricklayers, and execute the more skilled work, whilst the women act as labourers and mount the scaffolding with loads on their backs. At first it was never thought necessary to provide any kind of dwelling for these gipsies when engaged on a job--they just lay about anywhere in the open; but finally it became quite a scandal and a source of danger to the community, so action had to be taken. A law was passed that anyone employing gipsies must provide them with proper accommodation, and that sanitary considerations must be respected.

When the building on which gipsies are employed arrives at a certain stage, sometimes before the roof is put on, high holiday is kept. The scaffolding is decorated with green boughs, among which one may see new skirts, coats, and blouses fluttering in the breeze. These are given by the employer, and are on view for the rest of the day. I think it is the only time they _are_ on view, as I have never yet seen a gipsy with new clothes on. They would seem quite out of place. Rags and gipsies seem somehow to belong to each other. When no building is going on, gipsies are often to be seen parading the streets with a tame bear that can be put through any number of tricks. One of the gipsies has a weird kind of incantation to which the unfortunate bear is supposed to dance. His unwieldy movements, and muffled growling, as a sort of running accompaniment to the music, delight the children, who are eager to reward the bear’s master with all the coppers they possess.

The gipsies do not seem to be a really lazy race. When they are at work they are quite active, singing or whistling if they have not at the moment the inevitable cigarette end between their teeth. It is one of the occupations of the gipsy children to roam about the streets in search of cigarette-ends that have been thrown away (pipes are seldom used in Bucarest). These are brought to their parents to be smoked to the “bitter end.” The women smoke just as much as the men. Another occupation for bigger children is to get hold of a rude kind of violin and to play for the public. It is a sight to see one trying to keep up with a tram, fiddling for all he is worth (no one knows what the tune is), but keeping a sharp look-out for any _bani_ that may be thrown to him. He is a comical figure, sometimes wearing neither shoes nor stockings, but with a long coat reaching half-way down his bare legs. Sometimes he sports a battered-in hat, but more often than not his own shaggy curls form his only head covering.

The little children are picturesque, and they would delight the eye of an artist. They do not trouble about clothes at all. It is true that the little brown bodies are sometimes clothed in tiny shirts, but more often than not they are entirely naked. The big black eyes and the little brown faces crowned by masses of thick brown or black curls remind one strongly of the types in pictures by Murillo.

All gipsies have a natural talent for music, and where it can be developed success is almost sure. There is, for instance, a gipsy in Bucarest who, with his band of musicians, is very much sought after for entertainments. He can command 200-300 francs for a few hours in the evening; and as festivities are not often wanting, especially in winter, he must have amassed quite a nice little fortune. He went with his band to the Exhibition in Paris some years ago, and aroused great enthusiasm among the French by his playing. Gipsy music in Roumania has always a vein of melancholy running through it, quite different from the Hungarian music, which is fiery and wild in its character, showing plainly the untamed spirit of the people.

Gipsies as a class have not a good reputation for honesty, therefore if any are seen near one’s house a sharp look-out must be kept. I stayed for some weeks one summer at a little village in the Carpathians. Just about twenty minutes’ walk from our cottage there was a gipsy encampment. The lady with whom I was staying was rather nervous, and terribly afraid of the gipsies. The forest, which was very dense, came right down to the back of our cottage, which was in a rather isolated situation. Her fear was that the gipsies might hide in the forest and then attack us at night. Great precautions had to be taken, doors and windows carefully closed and barred. The dogs, of which there are always enough and to spare in the country, were brought close up to the cottage, and with a loaded revolver near at hand we considered we should be a match for the gipsies. But the truth is they never came to let us prove it.