CHAPTER X
THE BANQUET AT NISH
The Banqueting Hall—A Small Gathering—The Menu—The Kaiser and King Ferdinand—Von Falkenhayn—An Impressive Figure—The Kaiser’s Health—His Poor Appetite—Constant Coughing—King Ferdinand’s Triumph—The Bulgarian Princes—German Journalism—A Bombastic Oration—“Hail, Cæsar!”—The Kaiser’s Unspoken Reply—The Hour of “The Fox”—The End of an Historic Function—The Post Office Closed.
The Banquet was held in the Town Hall of Nish. The banqueting-room was profusely decorated with the flags and the colours of the Germanic Powers, although Austria is not in great evidence at Nish, having apparently made Belgrade her headquarters. When I entered the room I was surprised to find that the function was to be a comparatively small one. There were not more than fifty covers, and several of the places were empty, the actual attendance being about forty. The band of the Life Guards, numbering about twenty, was ensconced behind palms, and played a programme of music which is here reproduced.
Programme of Music at the Nish Banquet
There were three tables, forming three sides of a square; or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, parallelogram. They were simply decorated with roses and early spring flowers, yellow being the predominating colour. The Banquet, of which simplicity was the predominating feature, was served by Bulgarian soldier servants. The menu card is reproduced here, and I append a translation.
Menu at the Nish Banquet
THE KAISER’S MENU.
Balkan Dishes.
[Translation.]
Nish, January 18, 1916.
Royal Dinner.
The coat of arms at the top is the Bulgarian Royal Arms of King Ferdinand. It is embossed in the original in black, red, and gold. One of the chains round the crest is probably that of the Golden Fleece.
The dishes are as follow:
Chicken broth.
Trout from Lake Ochrida (west of Monastir).
Pilaff of lamb.
(Pilaff is a Balkan stew, with rice.)
Venison à la Cumberland.
(The Duke now with the enemy.)
Pâté de foie gras.
Fennel from Varna (Bulgaria) and endive.
(Fennel is a reedy vegetable used in salad
or cooked with butter.)
Bulgarian ice.
Cheese straws.
Dessert.
As might be expected from the German military authorities, their arrangements for the Press were excellent. Our seats were close to the Royal party, and we had no difficulty in hearing the speeches.
The Nish banquet was of the usual Royal stiffness. I should probably have remarked many more things, but for my excitement and nervousness. The Kaiser sat on King Ferdinand’s right, and on King Ferdinand’s left sat General von Falkenhayn, the chief of the German General Staff, whilst M. Radoslavoff, the Bulgarian premier, was placed on the right of the Kaiser. Interested as I was in the Kaiser, I was hardly less interested in the personality of von Falkenhayn, who is the brain of the great German War Machine. Although a man well into the fifties, he looks as if he had not yet crossed the half-century mark. It would be difficult to find a man with more refined and good-looking features. There is nothing markedly German about him, except perhaps his thoroughness, and I obtained the impression that the Germans have in him a war director of remarkable ability. He is trim and alert of movement, has close-cropped grey hair, and seems the personification of vigour, virility, and vivacity. He appears to be bearing the strain of war and its tremendous responsibilities in a remarkable manner. Seldom have I met a man who has struck me as being so well-fitted for the work before him as von Falkenhayn. Whenever I looked across at him as he sat chatting quite freely with the Kaiser and Ferdinand, I had the impression that here was a man with far-reaching vision and great executive power.
I sat less than fifteen yards away from the Royal pair, and I had every chance of observing closely each change in expression or smile that flitted across their countenances. Now as I look back on the scene I see the Kaiser, not only perpetually coughing, but also looking so tired that I wonder afresh what great purpose it was that brought him from a sick-bed in Berlin to a little Serbian town with its dim petroleum lamps. It must have been something unusually important that caused him to accept the Little Czar’s invitation to travel for two days to be a guest at a dinner of forty covers. Whatever the Kaiser’s sufferings he was obviously endeavouring to be as pleasant as possible.
Everything I remember in connection with the Banquet confirms me in my impression that the War Lord was deliberately intent, not only on impressing King Ferdinand, but the members of his entourage as well, otherwise he could never have tolerated the air of equality which the Coburger adopted towards him. The Kaiser is by nature intolerant of patronage or condescension on the part even of his equals, much less would he view unmoved that of an inferior unless he had some deliberate purpose in view. He looked a pathetic figure as he sat coughing, as though his throat were choked with some virulent, irritating substance, and it must have cost him a great effort to smile repeatedly as Ferdinand leaned across and whispered something in his ear.
I found myself speculating as to what was passing through the Kaiser’s brain as he saw the yellow face, with its cunning little slits of eyes—eyes that reminded me of a typical money-lender—of his vain-glorious neighbour bent upon him. Try as he will, Ferdinand of Bulgaria can never disguise the suggestion of craftiness that is stamped upon his features. Those little eyes of his seem to be the windows of a very dark soul, and behind that pepper and salt-bearded face, with the great hawk-like nose, there is a very cunning brain at work. From the fact that the Kaiser ate and drank practically nothing at the Banquet I was led to believe the story that he always eats before attending these State functions. Of course, it might have been that he was afraid of his throat. Certainly monarch never did less justice to an admirably-cooked meal. He did not even take wine. On the other hand, Ferdinand ate of each and all the dishes with great appetite, sipping his special brand of white wine with evident relish. Of all the company he seemed best pleased with himself, and when I noticed him studying the menu, it occurred to me that his vanity was flattered by seeing at the top his own Royal Cypher; it was his, Ferdinand of Bulgaria’s Banquet, and the All-Highest had journeyed for two long days and nights in order to be present.
I was glad that the Bulgar King was in a good humour, because when he smiles the grossness of his features is less obvious. The contrast between the Emperor and King was most marked, however, when they stood up.
By the side of the big, clumsy-looking Ferdinand the Kaiser appeared almost insignificant, but it was not his size that so engrossed my attention. All through the meal I could scarcely take my eyes from the haggard face of the author of the world-war who, on this January afternoon, looked so little like a war lord, as he sat apparently coughing away his life into the Turkish woven handkerchief which he held firmly in his right hand. His hair was terribly white, darkening a little at the parting where the roots showed. His cheeks were scored with many lines, and when I conjured up the vision of the healthy-looking Kaiser I had seen eight years previously in Amsterdam, I could not help marvelling at the change that those eight years had wrought in him. The only thing about him that was not changed was his upright deportment. He stood up firm and erect, just as one had seen him taking the salute at manœuvres or when reviewing his Prussian Guard. His pose was that of an Emperor, and contrasted strangely with the heavy awkwardness of his brother monarch.
Among the other guests present were the two young Bulgarian princes. The Crown Prince Boris must have been a terrible disappointment to his father. He is round-shouldered and thin, and might, were he not a prince, have been aptly described as a lout. I do not think I am prejudiced in saying that but for his clothes he might as well have been a menial employed in his own father’s household. His expression entirely lacked intelligence, and he looked much older than his years. Perhaps the failings of his father, which he has possibly inherited, may account for this worn-out appearance. He gave me the impression of one greatly fatigued. He is far from handsome, with the big Coburg nose, but fortunately not constructed on so large a scale as that of his father. Prince Cyril, the younger brother, unlike Prince Boris, is of a much better appearance, and seems more intelligent, but of neither has their father any reason to be excessively proud. Both the young princes sat between German officers, and having once been acknowledged by the Kaiser, seemed to relapse into the insignificance for which they were so pre-eminently fitted by nature.
Perhaps one of the most amusing things in connection with the Banquet at Nish was the report of a German paper that the Kaiser, who was in joyous and playful mood, picked up Prince Cyril, tossed him up into the air, and placed him on his Royal knee and kissed him. In the enthusiasm of the moment the German journalist must have forgotten the Kaiser’s withered arm, which would have rendered it impossible for him, however playful his mood, to “toss” an infant of a week old. Furthermore, as I have explained, Prince Cyril is a young man fully-grown, and of far too loutish and uninteresting an appearance to invite the kisses even of the diplomatic Kaiser. However much that august monarch might have desired to propitiate the Bulgarian King, he would certainly have stopped short of kissing Prince Cyril. Sometimes German journalists over-reach themselves.
The speeches, which were political and bombastic in character, were fully reported everywhere a few days after the Banquet. They were not, as has been stated in some quarters, delivered in English. King Ferdinand’s grandiloquent address to the Kaiser was, with the exception of the Latin phrases, delivered exclusively in German, excellent German by the way. The Bulgarian monarch spoke easily and without notes. He seemed to experience no difficulty in finding words. I did not take down the speeches, I confess that I was far too excited for that, besides I knew that they would be distributed throughout the civilized world through the agency of the German Press Bureau. I have referred to the columns of The Times in order to refresh my memory.
We were engaged with Bismarck cigars and coffee when there was a sudden hush in the hum of conversation. The hour of the speeches had arrived. There was a tense excitement as King Ferdinand rose. He did so with the air of a man who was conscious that he had reached the one great moment of his life. His voice was clearly heard in all parts of the room, and his delivery was extremely good. He began by pointing out that two hundred and fifteen years ago that day Frederick the First was crowned King, and forty-five years ago the New Germany was founded. To-day the Kaiser, after the glorious victory which had attended his arms, could with safety enter the former Roman fortress of Nish. King Ferdinand tendered his thanks to the Kaiser for his visit to the ancient town, a visit which cemented the alliance between the two countries.
“The world,” he contended, “has learnt to appreciate 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.”
The King expressed the hope that 1916 might 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 upon us a continuation of the war, then my people in arms will be ready to do its duty to the last.”
At this point King Ferdinand apparently found German entirely inadequate to the proper expression of his feelings, and that nothing short of a classical tongue would suffice.
“Ave! Imperator, Cæsar et Rex,” he burst forth, “Victor et gloriosus es. Nissa antiqua omnes Orientis populi te salutant redemptorem, ferentem oppressis prosperitatem atque salutem. Long live Kaiser Wilhelm!”
[Translation.]
“Hail! Emperor, Cæsar and King. Thou art victor and glorious. In ancient Nish all the peoples of the East salute thee, the redeemer, bringing to the oppressed prosperity and salvation.”
All this to a man who was bearing the strain of the occasion with obvious effort. Even whilst listening to the sonorous periods that proclaimed him Cæsar and a number of other things, he coughed into that handkerchief with its stars and crescent.
The Kaiser’s official reply, which by the way was never spoken, but was disseminated by order of the authorities, ran as follows:—
“Your Majesty has especially dwelt to-day on the three important epochs which coincide with this day. Very often as a young man, at the side of my grandfather, and later as ruler, I have celebrated this memorable day, always of the same importance, surrounded by the Knights of the Order.
“Now for the second time, by God’s decision, I celebrate it in the field, on old historic ground, a beautiful piece of country conquered by Bulgarian bravery, received by the King amidst his brave troops and their illustrious leaders and honoured by your Majesty with a high order, but above all with the appointment of Colonel of the 12th Balkan Infantry Regiment. Thus your Majesty has done me an honour than which I could expect no better.
“To-day you have given me the fulfilment of a long cherished wish, and your words prove that we, in valuing this hour, are filled with the same feelings. We have been challenged by our enemies, who envied Germany and Austria-Hungary their peaceful and flourishing prosperity, and in most light-hearted manner endangered the development of the Kultur of the whole of Europe, in order to strike us and our loyal allies at the root of our strength.
“We have had a hard fight, which will soon spread further.
“When Turkey was threatened by the same enemies, she joined us and in stubborn fighting secured her world position.
“Your Majesty’s prudence recognised that the hour had come for Bulgaria, for you, to bring forward your old and good claims and smooth the way for your brave country to a glorious future. In true comradeship the glorious triumphal march of your Majesty’s nation in arms began, which, under the guidance of its illustrious War Lord, has added one sublime leaf of glory to another in the history of Bulgaria.
“In order to give visible expression to my feelings for such deeds, and to the feelings of all Germany, I have begged your Majesty to accept the dignity of Prussian Field-Marshal, and I am, with my Army, happy that you, by accepting it, also in this sense, have become one of us.
“With God’s gracious help great deeds have been accomplished here and on all other fronts.
“I experience feelings of the deepest gratitude to the Almighty that it has to-day been granted me, on this historic spot, once more consecrated with brave blood, amidst our victorious troops, to press your Majesty’s hands and listen to your Majesty’s words, in which is manifest the firm determination to fight for a successful and lasting peace, and to continue the loyalty and friendship sealed in the storm of war, in true common labour for the high task imposed upon us by care for the welfare of our peoples.
“With the firmest confidence I also pursue this aim, and raise my glass to the welfare of your Majesty and your House, to the victory of the glorious Bulgarian army and to Bulgaria’s future.”[2]
The dinner was held on the two hundred and fifteenth anniversary of the coronation of Frederick the First, and the founding by him of the order of the Black Eagle. It is this fact that the Kaiser refers to in the first paragraph of his reply.
As a matter of fact, the only other speaker at the Banquet in addition to King Ferdinand was Von Falkenhayn. He rose to respond briefly to a few compliments that Ferdinand had bestowed upon him. One thing is certain, that the Kaiser could not, had he wished, have delivered his oration on account of the incessant cough which troubled him throughout the evening.
At the close of the Banquet, which was as excellently served as it had been well-cooked, the German and Bulgarian National Anthems were played, and the historic function, which throughout had been of an extreme simplicity, broke up with an informality that in itself was distinctive. Here were some of the great actors in the greatest drama of the world’s history performing, not for the benefit of the worthy citizens of the equally worthy little Serbian town of Nish, but for the people of the whole civilised world. My last impression of the two chief characters was that of Ferdinand, with a cunning gleam in his little slits of eyes, clasping the Kaiser’s right hand in both of his own. Was it to cement some important pledge, or was it merely warmth of feeling on the part of him who had earned the name of “The Fox” I wonder!
Immediately I left the Town Hall I dashed off in company with the other journalists to the post office, in the hope of being able to get my narrative off to London via the neutral country to which I belong; but I had reckoned without the German press censors, who no doubt inspired their Bulgarian brethren to close the telegraph office so that nothing should leave Nish without first having been submitted to the Bureau. But I felt that my news would wait, and I determined to catch the Balkan Express to Vienna.
Since my return to England I have received many messages full of the kindest congratulations upon my account of the Banquet at Nish. I do not wish to pose as a hero who does not understand the meaning of fear. Not even the Kaiser himself was more uncomfortable than I. What I ate I do not know. I suppose I did eat. I was fully conscious that were I recognised by one of the numerous Secret Service officers about the Kaiser, or by any other person who had happened to see me during one of my previous visits, either to Germany or the Near East, there would have been a short and simple ceremony by the wall of the Town Hall, in which a firing party and myself would have been the protagonists.
As I left the Banqueting Hall I felt as Alexander must have felt at the thought of there being no more countries to conquer. I had achieved, by a wonderful combination of circumstances, what I had never dreamed of achieving, and now all I desired was to get back to England to tell the whole story. I began to be in terror of discovery; such a trick on the part of Fate would be a supreme effort of irony. Only one thing remained for me to do, and that was to get back with the utmost possible expedition, but as it turned out I had yet other experiences. I was to travel to Vienna by the famous Balkan Express, the “Balkan-Zug,” as it is known to the Germans, which connects Berlin and Vienna with Constantinople.