All these stories threw a bright light on the character of the supposed useless fop, who made Bismarck reverse his first contemptuous estimate of him. The final judgment of the old cynic was that Ferdinand was “a sharp young fellow.” They confounded entirely the British view of him, which has recently had to be revised. For it is only too true that our attitude was that of the Rugby schoolboy. “We have heard of the Kaiser; and the Czar and the French President are our good friends. But who on earth is King Ferdinand of Bulgaria?” The answer is plain to be read. He is the parvenu of princes, the outcast among Kings, the Czar of Shoddy. His history and habits, his ambitions and abilities, his amusements and amours, as far as I have been able to trace them, are set out in the following chronicle. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ A POT-HOUSE PRINCE “_The Prince of Bulgaria, if there exists in the world a being unfortunate enough to take up that position._” —BISMARCK. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER I A POT-HOUSE PRINCE One day in December, 1886, there slouched into Ronacher’s Circus, a well-known Vienna beer garden, three weary Bulgarian politicians. Some weeks before they had left Sofia full of importance, and very pleased with themselves. In their ears were ringing the injunctions of Stambuloff, the “Bismarck of Bulgaria,” and they were under no kind of misapprehension as to their mission. They were to come back with a Prince, and not until they had got one dare they show their faces in Sofia again. He was to be a presentable Prince, young, wealthy, a soldier, and, above all, powerfully connected. It seemed easy enough to them, for they were patriotic Bulgarians, and thought that all the unoccupied Princes of Europe would compete for so proud a position as that of Prince of Bulgaria. Possibly their phantasy was not shared by the wise old man who sent them out on their mission; for it is recorded that he grinned sardonically as he saw them go. From Court to Court they went, hawking the vacant principality and receiving the most surprising rebuffs. They offered the place to the Grand Duke Vladimir of Russia, and he refused it with a rude promptness. Valdemar of Denmark listened to all they had to say, and said he would write and let them know. His answer was in the negative. From Prince Carol of Rumania they received a refusal startling in its emphasis. They rubbed their heads, and decided to try more tentative measures. Hither and thither they went, hinting at the great opportunity that offered for an enterprising young Prince. Their overtures were everywhere received with a chilliness that was rigid in its iciness. They thought of grim old Stambuloff waiting at home for news, and trudged manfully on to another Court. Soon they realized that they were the laughing-stock of Europe.