The entry of the Bulgarians into the Great War was sudden, fierce and effective. They threw themselves with characteristic ardour upon the Serbians, who, attacked from three quarters at once, defended themselves sternly. They could not expect to prevail against the overwhelming odds against them, but they took heavy toll of their oppressors, and especially of their detested foes the Bulgarians.

The expedition of the Allied Powers from Salonica came too late to save Serbia, or even appreciably to delay her downfall. Once again the principal fighting against the French and British troops, who had advanced from Salonica in the hope of saving the railway to Nish, was done by the Bulgarians. They were as reckless as they were barbarous in their fighting, and though they drove the Allies back, they lost out of all proportion to the damage they inflicted.

Thus in a very few weeks the Bulgarians had gained possession of the coveted portion of Thrace and Macedonia held by the Serbians, and were brought to a pause on the Greek frontier. In all this fighting, needless to say, Ferdinand had taken no part, except to issue some of those vainglorious proclamations of which samples have been quoted in previous chapters.

With the Serbians utterly crushed and the Greeks quaking before the fear of an invasion and of the Allied forces encamped at Salonica, a period was reached in the Bulgarian operations. Sofia was converted into a city of mourning, and death was spread through all the Bulgarian villages. For the third time in a few years the young men of the country had been decimated.

In the meantime the Germans had converted Sofia into a Prussian barrack town. There was no longer any concealment; it was only too apparent to the Bulgarians that the Schwaba had come to stay. The Bulgarian troops on the Greek frontier had been equipped with German uniforms and German arms in preparation for the invasion of Greece, the excuse being that Bulgaria was experiencing a shortage in such equipment.

The Bulgarians also shared the booty of the Serbian cities and farms, the goods and stock of the conquered Serbians being removed after the thorough and scientific method employed in the sacking of Belgium. But there was already a great scarcity of food in Bulgaria, where the German methods of conservation of supplies by rationing were quickly introduced.

Already Bulgaria was paying the penalty for interference against her old friends and benefactors. There were deep murmurs everywhere at the Teutonizing of the country, at the rations of black bread issued only to ticket-holders, and at the arrogance of the all-pervading Germans.

Very unwillingly the Bulgars looked forward to the time when they should be called upon to attack the allied armies in their strong position at Salonica, and perhaps to force Greece into hostility. That was not the direction in which they wished to make their next advance, for their ill-chosen friends the Turks were the victims of their preference in this respect. Ferdinand was again in a difficult position with the people whom he had adopted, and must go to his new friends for help.

He got it in the shape of plentiful German and Austrian honours. He received the hall-mark of Hundom in September, 1915, when, apropos of nothing at all, the Kaiser conferred the Iron Cross upon him. But now he was to be made a field-marshal in both the German and Austrian armies, and to entertain the Kaiser at a memorable banquet in the conquered city of Nish.

A remarkable description of that ceremonious meeting has been published by a journalist who had the hardihood to obtain entry, and depicts the Kaiser as an aged and broken man, coughing continually, and looking small and almost pitiful by the side of the burly Ferdinand. In terms of fulsome insincerity Ferdinand greeted him.

“The world has learned to know with surprise and admiration the strength of Germany and her allies, and believes in the invincibility of the German Army under the guidance and leadership of its Kaiser.

“I hope that the year 1916 may bring lasting peace, the sacred fruits of our victories, a peace which will allow my people to co-operate in future in the work of Kultur; but, if fate should impose a continuation of the war, then my people in arms will be ready to do its duty to the last.

“Ave Imperator, CÆsar et Rex. Victor et Gloriosus es. Nissa antiqua omnes Orientis populi te salutant redemptorem ferentem oppressis prosperitatem atque salutem.”

Long live Kaiser Wilhelm!

(Hail Emperor, CÆsar and King. Thou art victor and glorious [Gloriosus really means braggart]. In ancient Nish all the peoples of the east salute thee, the redeemer, bringing prosperity and salvation to the oppressed.)

The Kaiser’s reply was couched in the same strain, and laid special emphasis upon the fact that the honours conferred by Germany and Austria upon Ferdinand had made him “One of Us.”

No phrase could have been more expressive. Ferdinand had become, for the time being, a minor German Prince. He had given over his adopted people to the German yoke, and Bulgaria had become as much part of Germany as Bavaria or Saxony. That, and nothing less, was the outcome of a willing treachery that was prompted by wild dreams of self-aggrandisement that are doomed never to see fulfilment.

And there, for the present, Ferdinand of Bulgaria must be left.

It is difficult to harmonize his present position with the ambitions that have principally made his life and career remarkable. Those ambitions could only be realized by the extinction of the Ottoman Power in Europe. He has taken up arms against the forces which are pledged to bring about that consummation. He has linked himself in arms with the Power he has planned throughout a long reign to despoil. The path before him is a very obscure and tortuous one even for the Shoddy Czar, whose word is as valueless as his signature to a solemn pledge.

What inducement can he advance to his people to continue this war, from which they have nothing more to gain, and which has already involved them in such heavy loss of life? There can be no other inducement than the strong constraint imposed by the German forces who have taken possession of the Balkans. It is dangerous to prophesy with a man so elusive as Ferdinand, but he appears now to be on the threshold of the most difficult stage in his career. He has strong enemies within his own State, and will have to encounter the most bitter opposition from the open enemies arrayed in arms against him.

Some, at least, of his friends are palpably lukewarm. No genuine tie could possibly link Turkey with Bulgaria. On the other hand, the just anger of his enemies is a common motive to ensure his thorough and lasting punishment. His people may hope, by a timely repentance, to escape the consequence of their cowardly transgressions; but not so Ferdinand. He is the supreme offender, and must pay the maximum penalty.

It was not to end in such an impasse that his mother instructed him in the mysteries of kingcraft, and advised him throughout his early years of insecurity in Bulgaria. Had she lived, he might have chosen differently, for Clementine, daughter of France as she was, could never have endured the supremacy of German influence which Ferdinand’s policy has brought about. It may well be that her death was the turning-point in his career, the beginning of a downward march on which one well-defined stage has already been marked, the reverse of the second Balkan war.

For many years the influence of the Shoddy Czar has been a malign one. His character, his training, his ideals, and the barbarism of the people he governs have made Bulgaria a lasting threat to the peace of Europe. One of the many good results we may hope to derive from the war will be the disappearance from the realm of international politics of so unscrupulous and autocratic a ruler as Ferdinand of Bulgaria.