Part 7 (1/2)

The Russian Minister Mansurov, however, called at once to offer his congratulations to Alexander, and called also upon Draga. It has even been suggested that Russia arranged the affair, and that Draga was her tool. This is, however, improbable. It was more likely the achievement of an ambitious and most foolish woman. But that Russia jumped at it as the very best means of compa.s.sing Alexander's ruin cannot be doubted, for no less a person than the Tsar accepted the post of k.u.m (G.o.dfather) at the wedding, thus publicly announcing his approval of the marriage at which he was represented by a proxy, when it was celebrated at Belgrade shortly afterwards. Alexander never saw either of his parents again. Milan resigned the command of the army and retired to Austria and his stormy and variegated career came to an end in the following year. He was only forty-seven at the time of his death, but had compressed into those years an amount of adventure unusual even in the Balkans.

Alexander's marriage, as doubtless foreseen by Russia, soon proved disastrous. Draga, having achieved her ambition and mounted the throne, showed none of the ability of Theodora. Clever enough to captivate the feeble-minded Alexander, she was too stupid to realize that her only chance lay in gaining the popularity of the people who were none too well disposed. With incredible folly, before in any way consolidating her position, she formed a plot worthy only of a second-rate cinematograph, pretended pregnancy and planned to foist a ”supposit.i.tious child” upon the nation. A plan, foredoomed by its folly to failure, which brought down on her the contempt and ridicule not only of Serbia, but of all Europe. Such was the history of Serbia up to the date when I plunged into it and found it on the verge of a crisis.

CHAPTER SEVEN

1903 AND WHAT HAPPENED

For Leagues within a State are ever pernicious to Monarchic.

Early in 1903 I received an invitation to stay with certain of the partisans of the Karageorgevitches in Serbia. The ”something” that was to happen had not yet come to pa.s.s. My sister wished to travel with me, and my experiences of last year were not such as to lead me to take her to Serbia. One takes risks without hesitation when alone, into which one cannot drag a comrade. We went to Montenegro.

It was hot even at Cetinje. We were resting in one of the back bedrooms of the hotel on the afternoon of June 11, when there came a loud knocking at the door and the voice of Ivan, the waiter, crying ”telegramme, telegramme.” We jumped up at once, fearing bad news, and Stvane cried excitedly as I opened the door, ”The King and Queen of Serbia are both dead!” My brain re-acted instantly. The ”something” had happened, the crisis had come. Without pausing a minute to reflect, I said: ”Then Petar Karageorgevitch will be King!”

”No, no,” cried Ivan; ”Every one says it will be our Prince Mirko!”

”No,” said I decidedly, for I was quite certain, ”It will not be Mirko”; and I asked ”How did they die?”

”G.o.d knows,” said he; ”some say they quarrelled and one shot the other and then committed suicide. And it will be Mirko, Gospodjitza.

There was an article in the paper about it only the other day.” He ran off and fetched a paper. I regret now that I took no note what paper it was, but it certainly contained an article naming Mirko as heir to the Serb throne, supposing Alexander to die without issue.

Cetinje was excited as never before. Ordinarily, it lived on one telegram a day from the Correspondenz Bureau. Now the boys ran to and fro the telegraph office and bulletins poured in. One of the earliest stated that the King and Queen had died suddenly, cause of death unknown, but bullet wounds found in the bodies.

Later came full details. According to Belgrade papers a revolution had been planning for three months and there were secret committees all over the country; that the decision to slaughter both King and Queen had been taken by the Corps of Officers at Belgrade, and the work entrusted to the 6th Infantry Regiment; that the band of a.s.sa.s.sins gained access to the Palace at 11 p.m.; and, as the King refused to open the door of his bedroom, it was blown in by Colonel Naumovitch with a dynamite cartridge the explosion of which killed its user.

What followed was a shambles. The bodies of the victims, still breathing, but riddled with bullets, were pitched from the window.

Draga, fortunately for herself, expired at once. But the luckless Alexander lingered till 4 a.m.

According to current report the a.s.sa.s.sins, drunk with wine and blood, fell on the bodies and defiled them most filthily, even cutting portions of Draga's skin, which they dried and preserved as trophies. An officer later showed a friend of mine a bit which he kept in his pocket book.

Alexander was a degenerate. His removal may have been desirable. But not even in Dahomey could it have been accomplished with more repulsive savagery. And the Russian Minister, whose house was opposite the Konak, calmly watched the events from his window.

Having wreaked their fury on the bodies, the a.s.sa.s.sins rushed to kill also Draga's two brothers, one of whom it was rumoured was to be declared heir to the throne by Alexander. Some seventeen others were murdered that night and many wounded. These details we learned later.

The afternoon of the 11th pa.s.sed with excitement enough. Evening came and we went in to dinner. Upon each table, in place of the usual programme of the evening's performance at the theatre, lay a black edged sheet of paper informing us that the Serbian travelling company then playing in Cetinje ”in consequence of the death of our beloved Sovereign King Alexander” had closed the theatre till further notice. The tourist table was occupied solely by my sister and myself; the diplomatic one solely by Mr. s.h.i.+pley, who was temporarily representing England, and Count Bollati, the Italian Minister. Dinner pa.s.sed in complete silence. I was aching to have the opinion of the exalted persons at the other table on the startling news, but dared not broach so delicate a subject. The end came however. The servants withdrew and Count Bollati turned to me and said suddenly:

”Now, Mademoiselle, you know these countries What do you think of the situation?”

”Petar Karageorgevitch will be made King.”

”People here all say it will be Mirko,” said Mr. s.h.i.+pley.

Count Bollati maintained it would be a republic. I told them the facts I had learned in Serbia, and said that Petar was practically a certainty. They were both much interested.

”In any case,” said Mr. s.h.i.+pley, ”I should advise you to say nothing about it here. They are all for Mirko and you may get yourself into trouble.”

”I have never seen them so excited,” put in the Count.

”You are too late,” said I; ”I've told them already, Mirko has not a chance. He had better know the truth. You will see in a few days.”

Both gentlemen expressed horror at the crudity of my methods. As a matter of fact a good deal of international misunderstanding could be avoided if the truth were always blurted out at once. The Italian thought I was stark mad. The Englishman, having a sense of humour, laughed and said, as I well recollect: ”Your mission in life seems to be to tell home truths to the Balkans. It is very good for them.

But I wonder that they put up with it.” Both gentlemen commented on the grim matter-of-factness of the telegrams. ”Business carried on usual during the alterations,” said Bollati. His blood was badly curdled by the fact that when he was in Belgrade he was well acquainted with Colonel Mas.h.i.+n, the ill-fated Draga's brother-in-law, who--according to the telegrams--had finished her off with a hatchet.

”And I have shaken hands with him!” said Bollati, disgustedly. Mr.