"All traces of the midnight carnage in the palace of Belgrade have been cleared away. The Pretender for whose benefit it was perpetrated comes in. First proclaimed in the midst of the still warm corpses, the title of military acclamation has been ratified by a National Assembly, convened by the Pretorians almost simultaneously with the massacre to meet three days after that event, and in the palace where Colonel Maschine and his lieutenants, acting in the names of outraged national dignity and social purity, put to shame human nature, Karageorgevich, whose career as a Pretender in some points resembles that of Louis Napoleon, accepts the proffered crown. The telegraphic agencies have informed us that order reigns at Belgrade, and that Peter I. has entered his capital amid demonstrations of public joy. The representatives of the Press of Europe, numbering about a hundred, were, through the civility of a palace official who witnessed the nocturnal invasion, taken through the theatre of one of the most revolting crimes of modern history. They were minutely informed of the circumstances connected with it, saw the smashed doors and floors where dynamite tubes had exploded, the pistol shots in walls and ceilings; the timepieces shaken by the explosion had stopped at five minutes past one on the morning of the 12th June. The palace official took them into the little wardrobe room in which the King and Queen had hidden themselves, and, when found, met their doom, unshriven, offering no resistance. … {45} "Officers who had studied in the Zurich Polytechnic school knew how to use dynamite without injury to themselves when they wanted to break in doors massive as those of a church. Those who had been told off to cut the electric wires communicating with lamps had indiarubber gloves. They searched by the light of composite candles they had brought in their pockets for the hiding-place of the King and Queen. When they discovered the fugitives, some of the officers held high the candles for their comrades to lay on and not spare the unfortunate pair. There was no attempt to resist. All Alexander wanted was ‘to die with Draga,’ and this elevated him into the region of romance. It may hereafter furnish a theme to Servian bards. Another modern circumstance makes one’s flesh creep. The bodies, flung out of a window, lay on a garden walk until dawn, when a soldier received an order to wash them there with a fireman’s hydrant, and when they had been cleansed to lay them on the tables of the palace kitchen for dissection. The surgeons had been requisitioned to come there at five o’clock. …