But now there came forth one more proof of the vitalising force of the national principle.  In seven years the downtrodden peasants of Bulgaria had become men, and now astonished the world by their prowess.  The withdrawal of the Russian officers left half of the captaincies vacant; but they were promptly filled up by enthusiastic young lieutenants.  Owing to the blowing up of the line from Philippopolis to Adrianople, only five locomotives were available for carrying back northwards the troops which had hitherto been massed on the southern border; and these five were already overstrained.  Yet the engineers now worked them still harder and they did not break down[205].  The hardy peasants tramped impossibly long distances in their longing to meet the Servians.  The arrangements were carried through with a success which seems miraculous in an inexperienced race.  The explanation was afterwards rightly discerned by an English visitor to Bulgaria.  “This is the secret of Bulgarian independence—­everybody is in grim earnest.  The Bulgarians do not care about amusements[206].”  In that remark there is food for thought.  Inefficiency has no place among a people that looks to the welfare of the State as all in all.  Breakdowns occur when men think more about “sport” and pleasure than about doing their utmost for their country.

[Footnote 205:  A. von Huhn, op. cit. p. 105.]

[Footnote 206:  E.A.B.  Hodgetts, Round about Armenia, p. 7.]

The results of this grim earnestness were to astonish the world.  The Servians at first gained some successes in front of Widdin and Slivnitza; but the defenders of the latter place (an all-important position north-west of Sofia) hurried up all possible forces.  Two Bulgarian regiments are said to have marched 123 kilometres in thirty hours in order to defend that military outwork of their capital; while others, worn out with marching, rode forward on horseback, two men to each horse, and then threw themselves into the fight.  The Bulgarian artillery was well served, and proved to be very superior to that of the Servians.

Thus, on the first two days of conflict at Slivnitza, the defenders beat back the Servians with some loss.  On the third day (November 19), after receiving reinforcements, they took the offensive, with surprising vigour.  A talented young officer, Bendereff, led their right wing, with bands playing and colours flying, to storm the hillsides that dominated the Servian position.  The hardy peasants scaled the hills and delivered the final bayonet charge so furiously that there and on all sides the invaders fled in wild panic, and scarcely halted until they reached their own frontier.

Thenceforth King Milan had hard work to keep his men together.  Many of them were raw troops; their ammunition was nearly exhausted; and their morale had vanished utterly.  Prince Alexander had little difficulty in thrusting them forth from Pirot, and seemed to have before him a clear road to Belgrade, when suddenly he was brought to a halt by a menace from the north[207].