KING FERDINAND OF BULGARIA, THE VAINEST MAN IN EUROPE
King Ferdinand was an interesting study as he crept away from Vienna,
all his hopes bankrupt, his people’s future compromised. The people
there considered him almost one of themselves, for the Coburgs had
always lived in Vienna. Prince Philip had a palace that commanded a
fine view right across the Ringstrasse. His brother Ferdinand lived
there when he came to Vienna, and was thus able to come to and fro,
_incognito_, whenever he pleased. The rest of Europe had no idea of
the frequency of his visits to the capital. Perhaps it was only the
theatre-managers who really were aware how often he was present in a
capital where everyone was at liberty to come and go, unmolested by the
crowd, unless he came as a monarch in state, when the Viennese were
the first to acclaim one of their children “who had gone so far in the
world,” as they expressed it. The general feeling in the city was
that Ferdinand was a great artist in diplomacy, perhaps the greatest
in Europe. In the capital of Austria he met many statesmen who came
there--to the “very edge of civilisation,” as they put it--to confer
upon the problems that then troubled Europe. Kaiser Wilhelm frequently
rushed through to Vienna in his automobile, without warning, and
took part in a short discussion of the situation, at which Ferdinand
assisted on many occasions. Kaiser Wilhelm, with his usual astuteness,
understood how to manage Ferdinand. He did not need money; that was a
great relief to the Kaiser, who was invariably short of it himself.
The Coburg family fortune was sufficient to provide for all his
private wants on a liberal scale. There is not the slightest doubt
that Ferdinand would have lost his throne long before had he been
forced to ask his subjects for money to supply his personal needs.
His independence in this respect placed him on a footing with the
proudest monarchs in Europe. Kaiser Wilhelm, prodigal of things that
cost him nothing, was able to lavish his gifts of wondering admiration
upon the King of Bulgaria. He tactfully praised qualities that his
friends imagined they possessed, and his delicate flattery of his
best “democratic” manner, that seemed to say there was no difference
in rank at all between the king of a Balkan State and the Emperor of
Germany, made Ferdinand a puppet in his hands. Wilhelm flattered him
into seeing things with his eyes, and mesmerised the dazzled monarch,
who had been a poor lieutenant, into thinking that he was really being
taken into the confidence of German statesmen and allowed to read
the secret thoughts of the great War Lord himself. The other Balkan
sovereigns, who had a clearer idea of the reality of things, could
not have been gulled so easily. They would have realised that there
was a reason for this preference, shown only of recent years, for a
man who commanded the route to Constantinople. Ferdinand, student of
political history, a consummate diplomatist, was, nevertheless, blinded
by the Kaiser, who appeared so simple--indeed, almost childlike--in
his aims, and so far removed from the world of diplomatists to which
Ferdinand belonged. This apparent simplicity of character, which has
puzzled so many, is due to a warped mind. Kaiser Wilhelm has long
considered that nothing mattered compared with the glorification of
Germany. The Almighty he considered had entrusted him with the task
of elevating the German nation. It was the supreme people of the
earth. It ought to be raised to a position which would make all other
people subservient to it, and the humble instrument for this work was
himself. He thus considered himself at liberty to break any law that
stood in his way, and, being a firm believer in the creed that the
end justifies the means, he was able to impress even people of great
and unusual acumen with a sense of his probity. King Ferdinand would
not trust the King of Montenegro, although Nikita was an open-handed,
open-hearted old mountaineer. He was, however, quite willing to accept
Kaiser Wilhelm’s estimate of himself as a man with a single aim that
must be accomplished at any cost. The King of Bulgaria prided himself
upon being the “Little Czar” of the Balkans, and aped the great Russian
Czar in many ways. He was naturally encouraged in this by Germany. His
insatiate vanity prevented him from seeing that the delicate flattery
poured into his ears by German diplomatists was merely dictated by
self-interest. They wished to detach him from Austria and secure the
allegiance of Bulgaria for Germany, to the detriment of Emperor Francis
Joseph and his prestige among the Balkan peoples. Ferdinand would
swallow any bait, walk into any trap, if an appeal to his vanity
were made. Order after order was bestowed upon him; he received so many
decorations that his uniform shone like a coat of mail with the small
medals that are worn instead of the large originals. When he made his
triumphal progress to Vienna for the first time in his new capacity
as king, his tunic was one mass of sparkling Orders. The Viennese,
who are accustomed to decorations on a wholesale scale, as they are
conferred for very slight services in Austria-Hungary, and worn with
great ostentation by all and sundry at the Court, said he glittered and
sparkled like a dancing girl at a fair. They were quick to mark the
point where the grandiose becomes ridiculous. They saw that a king so
overloaded with Orders was absurd, not regal. “But, after all, for the
Balkans--perhaps it impresses those savages down there at Sofia,” and
with a shrug of their shoulders they turned to look at his handsome
sons, Slavonic in type, and without decorations; for Ferdinand never
allowed his sons to play a leading _rôle_ in any way. They were simple
soldiers, who might mingle with the people and play the democrat while
he acted the sovereign lord.
[Illustration: KING FERDINAND OF BULGARIA.]
[Illustration: KING NIKITA OF MONTENEGRO.]
The sons made a much better impression upon the populace than the
father. They seemed to fit the frame into which they were born much
better than the king who had been transported from living among the
gayest and most cynical people in Europe to deal with the crude
realities of the Balkans. Ferdinand had left his country repeatedly
when the fear of assassination was too much for him. He has always been
a coward. Even his soldierly training did not give him a grasp of what
is expected of a man and a monarch. Like Kaiser Wilhelm, he always
wore a mailed shirt or some other form of armour. Like Kaiser Wilhelm,
he felt peculiarly safe in Vienna, as the police system is so perfect
that any attempt upon the life of a monarch is almost impossible. They
manage to keep a record of the business of every person who comes to
the city. No suspects dare venture into the zone controlled by the
Vienna police. The Austrian Emperor, as long as his health allowed,
strolled about the city quite unconcerned for any danger. Kaiser
Wilhelm found, too, that he could promenade unguarded, simply because
the police had eliminated all chance of trouble. After the perils of
Sofia Ferdinand enjoyed this feeling of complete security among the
light-hearted Viennese. He would never have definitely broken with the
Emperor of Austria, because his favourite retreat would have been
closed to him for ever. He had the feeling deep in his heart that he
might be forced to abdicate at any moment. Then Austria would afford
him shelter. There he could keep up his state, receive the respect and
homage due to one who had been king and retain his _amour propre_.
It is probable that Ferdinand had but a low estimate of the
intellectual attainments and the mental grasp of the Emperor of Austria
himself. Like all the members of a younger generation who listened
to the wisdom of Kaiser Wilhelm, he regarded him as “played out” and
a “back number.” This made him an easier tool in the hands of Kaiser
Wilhelm, and also led to his getting a reputation for treachery which
perhaps he did not wholly deserve. There was a very general feeling in
Austria-Hungary which was sedulously fostered by Kaiser Wilhelm and
his agents that promises made to the aged Emperor were not binding.
They were only given to humour the old man, who was already in his
dotage. Ferdinand of Bulgaria on several occasions failed to keep his
engagements to the Emperor, although they had been solemnly made.
Kaiser Wilhelm contrived to make Ferdinand and others besides see that
the aged Emperor was not a factor to be reckoned with seriously, and
that the Empire was crumbling visibly. He and Germany were all that
mattered in Europe. These influences go far to explain Ferdinand’s
policy during the Balkan war and afterwards. A man who can be led by
his vanity is unfit for any position of importance, and still less
to rule with an absolute sway such as he exercised in Bulgaria. His
Parliament, which should have exercised a restraining influence, was
rendered useless, as the leading members could be “bought” at any time.
Ready money is rare in the Balkans, and the Austrian diplomatist knew
full well the price of every politician at Sofia. It was amazingly
small. Sometimes they stood out for an Order as well as money as the
price of their dishonour, but as a rule money was sufficient to buy
them to betray their country. It is surprising that men who had risen
straight from the soil should have shown themselves so venial, but they
had the example of their king before them, and this explains much. The
atmosphere at Sofia was one of intrigue and crime. No one could stand
against it. The common people, sturdy peasants, dimly comprehended that
their king was not doing the best for them. They wished to join in
any plot for his undoing that might be suggested to them. They looked
towards the Czar of All the Russias to deliver them from a distasteful
alliance with Germany and Austria-Hungary. This made Ferdinand anxious
to conciliate Russia if he wished to retain the sympathies of his
people. The Austrians failed to understand these “extra tours,” as
they called Ferdinand’s sudden _volte-face_ in favour of Russia and
the Slavs. The Viennese, although they liked him, mistrusted him
profoundly. Just as some strange instinct led them to suspect the
bluff friendliness of Kaiser Wilhelm, they regarded Ferdinand as an
unknown book--a book of possibilities that might be to their advantage
or might betray them to Russia, for both Germany and Austria-Hungary
regarded the growing Russian menace with fear--a fear perhaps shared
by Ferdinand, who had seen that Servia and Montenegro, who trusted
implicitly to Russia, had accomplished much of their aims. They had
fulfilled many of their aspirations, and were in a fair way to realise
the rest. Ferdinand, instead of obtaining advantages for his country,
was now bribed to quiescence and silence by a new honour. The Golden
Fleece was conferred upon him. This gratification of his vanity bound
him closer to Austria-Hungary, for he owed the decoration to the good
offices of Emperor Francis Joseph.