Twenty years in Roumania

In Short

This memoir captures the daily rhythms of Romania at the turn of the 20th century. Through the eyes of a British governess and language teacher, the book explores the social customs, political shifts, and internal paradoxes of a country caught between tradition and Western influence. It survives as a vivid, ground-level chronicle of a society defined by extreme contrasts—from the opulence of royal life and peasant festivities to the harsh realities of bureaucratic instability, religious rigidity, and the profound trauma of the First World War.

The Story

The narrative begins with a journey to Bucharest in February, a time when the city’s unpaved, flooded streets and "wild-looking" inhabitants suggest a world far removed from the comforts of the West. The protagonist, a young woman recently finished with her education in Germany, arrives with little more than letters of introduction and a determination to make a life as a teacher. Despite her initial dismay at the city’s appearance, she is soon drawn into the inner circles of the elite, finding that the hospitality of the Romanian people more than compensates for the country's lack of modern infrastructure.

The arc of the book is defined not by a linear plot, but by the deepening of the author's affection for her adopted home. She describes the peculiarities of state bureaucracy—where every change in government sparks a "General Post" of officials and even a change in the mandated style of handwriting. She details the lives of the peasantry, whose vibrant costumes and communal song provide a stark, beautiful contrast to the rigid, often brutal, administrative life of the capital. Her experiences range from the quiet beauty of mountain monasteries and the eccentricities of the royal court to the jarring, often unfair, realities of the police state and the systemic exclusion of the Jewish population.

As the years pass, the author moves between the cosmopolitan life of Bucharest and the scenic Carpathians. She encounters the late King Carol and the artistic, sometimes erratic Queen, observing the private struggles of a monarchy attempting to drag its military and social systems into modernity. She documents the "society crazes"—such as the short-lived bob-sleighing fad at Sinaia—and the enduring, often gruelling, religious traditions that govern public life.

The final phase of the memoir shifts from personal recollection to a reflection on the "fiery trial" of the Great War. Having left the country before the conflict, the author maintains contact with her friends, witnessing from afar their indomitable spirit during the darkest days of the occupation. The memoir concludes by looking forward, placing her personal impressions within the broader historical context of the new Romania that emerged in 1921. She champions the vision of statesmen like Take Jonescu, who sought to unite the region through the "Little Entente," hoping that the territorial and political consolidation of the post-war era will finally secure a peaceful future for a land that she has come to love as a second home.

How It Unfolds

A cold arrival The author recounts her initial culture shock upon reaching the frontier, where she encounters sheepskin-clad crowds and navigates the muddy, unpaved streets of a wintertime Bucharest. These early chapters establish the author’s outsider status and her skepticism, which gradually gives way to genuine curiosity.

The rhythm of administration The narrative pivots to the absurdities of Romanian governance, characterized by the wholesale replacement of civil servants with every change of power. This section illustrates the country’s tendency toward constant, often superficial, reform and the rigid, sometimes exclusionary, nature of its official policies.

The peasant landscape The author shifts focus to the countryside, detailing the vibrant seasonal rituals, from the "rain-makers" covered in greenery to the elaborate spring sowing celebrations. These passages provide a sensory-rich look at a folk culture that remains largely untouched by the political turbulence of the capital.

Court life and conflict A detailed look at the royal family reveals the human side of the monarchy, including the Queen’s artistic enthusiasms and the King’s reticent attempts at reform. The author describes the bob-sleigh accidents and the constant surveillance of the King’s movements with a blend of dry humor and respect.

A nation reborn The final movement reconciles the author’s personal memories with the geopolitical reality of the post-1918 world. She surveys the demographic makeup of the newly expanded state and expresses a cautious optimism for the future of a country finally finding its place in Europe.

The People

The Author acts as the observant bridge between the reader and the culture. She is a pragmatic, independent woman who supports herself as a teacher, allowing her to move between the homes of the aristocracy and the wider social life of the city.

Take Jonescu, a prominent statesman, emerges as a figure of intelligence and integrity. He is a bridge-builder who works tirelessly to secure Romania’s place in international alliances, embodying the author's hope for the country’s political maturity.

King Carol and his Queen represent the strain of modernization. The King is depicted as a disciplined, private man struggling to lead a country that often resists his changes, while the Queen is presented as a brilliant but mercurial figure—"a little überspannt"—whose creative energy provides both public service and private headaches for the royal household.

The Peasantry are the book’s collective heartbeat. While they are initially perceived as "wild," the author comes to admire their resilience, their aesthetic sense, and their communal joy, which persists despite the political systems that largely ignore them.

The Foreigners (including various Germans and the author herself) provide a contrast in discipline, often highlighting the gaps between Western expectations and the reality of life in the Balkans.

In Its Own Voice

"If I deal frankly with some of the methods and customs of the country, it is because I hope to give English readers an insight into the character of the people, and enable them to find there, as I have found, a very great deal to love."

The author explains her motivation for writing about the country with honesty rather than flattery.

"When we reached the Roumanian frontier I really became a little alarmed for the first time; and the crowds of strange-looking beings, clad in woolly sheep-skins, which thronged the station, appeared to me like denizens of another or an earlier world."

This captures the author’s initial, visceral reaction to the foreign landscape.

"As we look round on the dark eager faces lit up by the firelight, then at the towering mountains which surround us, and the great golden moon hanging midway in the dark sky, we realise that we live in a beautiful world."

The author reflects on the simple, transcendent beauty of village life during a summer evening.

What It's Really About

The book is a study in the persistence of cultural identity under the pressure of rapid modernization. It explores the friction between the "Oriental" traditions of the East and the administrative, educational, and political models imported from the West. Beneath the anecdotes of daily life lies an argument about the nature of national character—how a people forged by Roman roots, Turkish influence, and Slavic surroundings manages to carve out a distinct, sovereign existence. The author implicitly asks: how does a nation move forward without losing the communal, spiritual, and aesthetic rhythms that define its people? She finds the answer in the resilience of the Romanian spirit, which she believes is the true architect of the country's future.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the classic travelogue style—where the author is as much a subject as the landscape—will find this volume engaging. It is an honest, unvarnished look at a country during a transformative era. The author’s perspective is distinctively that of her time; she is candid about the prejudices she encounters, such as the systemic treatment of the Jewish population, and she does not shy away from describing the harshness of the police or the lack of sanitation, which provides a necessary balance to her obvious affection for the people.

The prose is warm and conversational, making the reader feel like a guest at her table. However, a modern reader must be prepared for the author’s period-specific attitudes, including her colonial-era frame of reference and occasional generalizations about "Eastern" versus "Western" justice. There is no modern irony here; the book is a straightforward, laboriously crafted record of a life spent in a place that no longer exists in exactly the same way. It is a rewarding read for those interested in the human side of history—not the treaties and battles, but the daily struggles of a teacher, the oddity of a funeral procession, and the universal need for community in a changing world.