Roumania Past and Present | Page 8

to discuss this question, which is so
interesting to Roumanians, but we cannot help drawing attention to
Paget's remarks on the subject. He says, in one of his headings,
'Wallacks of Dacian, not Roman origin;' then (p. 112) lie gives
woodcuts of two heads with moustache only (sketched without any
reference to the question), and somewhat resembling our cut, and
leaves his readers to compare them with the figures on Trajan's Column.
He says that he feels satisfied they will agree with his view. They do

not, however, in the least resemble either the Romans with bare, or the
Dacians with bearded faces, on the column, and throw no light
whatever upon the vexed question. The general opinion of persons who
have observed the peasantry is that those of the mountain districts
afford, in their type of face, habits, and some words, the best
illustrations in support of the Daco-Roman hypothesis.]
[Footnote 11: Wilkinson's account of travelling in his day (1820) is
worth quoting. 'The mode of travelling,' he says, 'in the two
principalities is so expeditious that in this respect it is not equalled in
any other country. Their post establishments are well organised; there
are post-houses in all directions, and they are abundantly provided with
horses. Every idea of comfort must, however, be set aside by those who
are willing to conform themselves to the common method of riding
post. A kind of vehicle is given which is not unlike a very small crate
of earthenware fastened to four small wheels by means of wooden pegs,
and altogether not higher than a common wheelbarrow. It is filled with
straw, and the traveller sits in the middle of it, keeping the upper part of
his body in an erect position, and finding great difficulty to cram his
legs within. Four horses are attached to it by cords, which form the
whole harness, and driven by one postilion on horseback, they set off at
full speed and neither stop nor slacken their pace until they reach the
next post-house. Within the distance of half a mile from it, the postilion
gives warning of his approach by a repeated and great cracking of his
whip, so that by the time of arrival another cart is got ready to receive
the traveller' (p. 93). (This is still the system in practice in some parts of
Russia, and the author travelled in this fashion, in the winter of 1849-50,
from St. Petersburg to the Prussian frontier.) Fifty years later matters
seem to have retrograded in Roumania, for Kunisch, an amusing
German writer, describes his journey from Giurgevo to Bucarest, now
effected in two or three hours by rail, which it then took him
twenty-four hours to accomplish, at first with sixteen horses and four
postilions, and during the later stages with eighteen and twenty-two
horses. (Reisebilder, pp. 73-81. Berlin: Effert and Lindtner.)]
III.

But we must dwell no longer in this realm of fruitfulness, and must
pass on to the alpine regions beyond. In so doing we change our
altitude much more rapidly than heretofore, and as we travel through
the ascending valleys into the pine-clad rocks and mountains it is
difficult to know with what European highlands to draw a comparison.
'Is it Wales?' the English reader will naturally enquire. 'No, for the
mountains are too sharp and rocky, and yet not nearly so barren as
those of our principality.' 'Are we in the Pyrenees?' Certainly not; the
vegetation is not so rich, few waterfalls are visible, and there is a
slovenly appearance about the clayey or sandy surface, reddened here
and there by ferruginous streamlets, and covered with weedy-looking
brushwood which is quite at variance with the sloping gardens of the
sunny south of France. Is the scenery Dolomitic? In a sense it is. The
summits of the mountains are often very jagged, Rosszähne or horses'
teeth, as they are called, but they are dark grey and not white or yellow
as the Dolomites. The trees are the same as in other alpine lands, firs,
pines, larch, and birch growing thickly to a height of about 5,000 or
6,000 feet above the sea-level; then come grass and alpine flowers, and
finally the rough jagged summit. Whatever region it may resemble, and
perhaps its nearest analogues are the wilder portions of the Bavarian
Alps or the less rugged parts of the Tyrol, it is lovely and romantic, and
needs only to be visited by a few Western tourists to become an
extension of the playground of Europe; for, in combination with
beautiful scenery, there are charming costumes, primitive manners, and
some interesting phases of Oriental life. And should his way lead him
to Sinaïa, the summer residence of the Court, and the sanatorium to
which the people of Bucarest resort, not as yet in