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                  [Illustration: _EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN_]

                    _Life Stories for Young People_




                          Maximilian in Mexico


                     _Translated from the German of
                               J. Kemper_

                                   BY
                            GEORGE P. UPTON
              _Translator of “Memories,” “Immensee,” etc._

                        WITH THREE ILLUSTRATIONS

                  [Illustration: A. C. McCLURG & CO.]

                                CHICAGO
                          A. C. McCLURG & CO.
                                  1911

                               Copyright
                          A. C. McClurg & Co.
                                  1911
                       Published September, 1911

                         THE · PLIMPTON · PRESS
                                [W·D·O]
                         NORWOOD · MASS · U·S·A




                          Translator’s Preface


The life story of Maximilian First in Mexico is one of the saddest of
tragedies. Admitting that he was in some respects a weak sovereign and
incompetent for the task he undertook, the tragedy is none the less sad.
The dreadful fate which overtook the Empress Carlotta only adds to the
gloom of the situation, and, if all reports are true, serves to
emphasize Mexican cruelty and treachery, for in official circles it is
generally believed she was made insane by a poisonous herb secretly
mixed with her drink. Maximilian himself was a gentleman in the best
sense of the term, gentle, courteous, refined, and scholarly; unfitted
for the position he held, inexperienced in political matters, and
ignorant how to contend with guile and treachery of the basest kind. He
was virtually forced to ascend the Mexican throne, and consented only
when he was assured that the Mexican people had enthusiastically elected
him. Once there, he found himself the victim of treacherous plots and
deadly hatred. He had but few friends upon whom he could rely, and they
were unable to aid him in the hour of greatest danger. Louis Napoleon,
who was chiefly instrumental in sending him there, violated his
agreements, withdrew the French troops from Mexico, and abandoned him as
a prey to his vindictive enemies, at whose hands he died like a
gentleman and a hero, leaving the Empress to suffer the tortures of
living death in a European asylum. History recalls few sadder tragedies
than the one contained in the story of Maximilian’s three years in
Mexico.

                                                                G. P. U.

Chicago, _May, 1911_




                                Contents


  Chapter                                                           Page
  I Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian                                     11
  II The Mexican Empire                                               15
  III Arrival of the Emperor in Mexico                                24
  IV Maximilian’s First Measures                                      28
  V Church Affairs in Mexico                                          37
  VI Enemies Within and Without                                       40
  VII Bazaine’s Position in Mexico                                    44
  VIII Fruits of the New Government                                   48
  IX Louis Napoleon’s Attitude                                        52
  X The Empress’ Journey to Europe                                    56
  XI Events in Mexico After the Departure of the Empress              62
  XII The Emperor at Orizaba                                          73
  XIII Departure of the French                                        79
  XIV The Siege of Querétaro                                          86
  XV Downfall of the Mexican Empire                                   99
  XVI The Emperor’s Imprisonment                                     113
  XVII Death of Maximilian and His Generals                          124
  XVIII Conclusion                                                   129
    Appendix                                                         133




                             Illustrations


                                                                    Page
  Emperor Maximilian                                      _Frontispiece_
  Empress Carlotta                                                    56
  Last Moments of Emperor Maximilian                                 124




                          Maximilian in Mexico




                               Chapter I
                     Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian


Ferdinand Maximilian, born at Schönbrunn on the sixth of July, 1832, was
the second son of Archduke Charles of Austria and the Archduchess Sophie
of Bavaria, a clever and highly cultivated princess, under whose
personal supervision the young Archduke received a careful and thorough
education, in which Count Bombelles, whose son afterward accompanied
Maximilian to Mexico, also had an important share.

From early childhood the prince showed that marked love of nature, and
especially of the sea, which was so characteristic of his later years
and which made his education for the navy—his destined career—an easy
and pleasant task. To this chosen profession, indeed, he applied himself
with such zeal and devotion that he may be regarded as the real founder
of the Austrian navy.

His leisure hours were devoted to the study of the fine arts and to the
practice of all sorts of athletic pursuits, in which he excelled, being
tall and well built, and quick and elastic in all his motions.

In 1850, upon the completion of his scientific studies, he made his
first long cruise, to Greece and Smyrna, followed by voyages to Spain,
Portugal, and Algiers. In 1853 he was made captain of a corvette, and a
year later received the appointment of commander-in-chief of the navy,
soon after which, escorted by a squadron of seventeen warships, he
visited Greece, Crete, Egypt, and Palestine.

The years 1856-57 were spent chiefly in European travel, during which
time the Archduke made the acquaintance of his future wife, the Princess
Carlotta, daughter of King Leopold Second of Belgium, to whom he was
married in 1857 and who proved so loyal and devoted a companion in joy
and sorrow until overtaken by the tragic fate of which we shall hear
later. Soon after his marriage, Maximilian, then only in his
twenty-fifth year, was made governor-general of the Lombardo-Venetian
kingdom by his brother, the Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria—an office
which he held for two years, and which served in some measure as a
preparation for his subsequent mission in Mexico for, as
governor-general, he had many difficulties to contend with, even though
they were of quite a different nature from those that afterward
confronted him in America.

The war that broke out in 1859 between Italy and Austria put an end to
Maximilian’s political career and he retired to the seclusion of
Miramar, the beautiful palace erected at Trieste some years before. Here
he lived quietly and peacefully, occupied with his favorite literary and
artistic pursuits, and it was here that he wrote the “Sketches of
Travel,” afterward published; also the “Aphorisms,” which speak the
thoughts and aspirations of a great soul.

Maximilian has been called weak and irresolute, and in fact he did prove
hopelessly unequal to the task that was set for him in Mexico—a task far
less suited to his gentle, kindly nature than to the bolder character of
his rival, Juarez, a man of quite another stamp, who hesitated at no
means to attain his ends and for whom the high-minded Hapsburger was no
match. That Maximilian made many grave errors cannot be denied, but his
entire administration should not be condemned for that reason. It is
certain that he was inspired by the noblest aims and intentions, and had
the Mexicans but realized this and given him their loyal support his
plans might have been realized and ensured both the country’s welfare
and his own.




                               Chapter II
                           The Mexican Empire


During the Archduke’s travels, in 1856, he had visited Paris and spent
twelve days at St. Cloud with Napoleon Third and Eugénie. He became much
interested in the Emperor’s ambitious schemes, while Napoleon and his
wife on their part were so pleased with Maximilian’s frank and manly
character that by the time he took his departure the French sovereigns
had already made plans for the future of their guest, the situation in
Mexico offering a favorable opportunity.

The better class of Mexicans were anxious for a strong hand to assume
the reins of government and restore order to that distracted and
wellnigh ruined land, and as Napoleon Third was then in control of
affairs there, it was an easy matter for him to arouse the interest of
the Mexicans in the young Archduke as their prospective ruler. The
throne of Mexico therefore was duly offered to Maximilian, but he was at
first unwilling to accept it. Fully acquainted with the disordered state
of that country, there was little temptation for him to exchange the
peaceful seclusion of Miramar for so doubtful a gift. Negotiations were
carried on for eight months between Paris and Miramar before the
Archduke would consent to accept the crown. At length, however, he
agreed on condition that both France and England would guarantee their
support in this enterprise. Further delays were caused by discussions
between France, Spain, and England, but not until England and Spain had
finally yielded and withdrawn all their troops from Mexico did Napoleon
fully realize the complications of the situation there.

Meanwhile Maximilian at Miramar became devoted to the idea of being
Emperor of Mexico, being principally actuated by the fact that his wife
would be an Empress. Both applied themselves closely to the study not
only of the geography but of the language and customs of the country,
actively corresponding at the same time with those who might be able to
exert an influence upon the destinies of Mexico.

The first public negotiations were conducted in person by Napoleon Third
and the Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria, the latter of whom sent his
minister, Count Rechberg, to Miramar to discuss the matter with his
brother Maximilian. Both the Archduke and his wife attached great weight
to the opinion of her father, King Leopold, who was well known as a
shrewd and clear-headed thinker. He pointed out plainly the dangers and
difficulties attendant on assuming the sovereignty of Mexico, but did
not regard them as insurmountable, and his advice decided the question.
Maximilian announced himself ready to accept the throne on certain
conditions, the chief of which was that his choice as Emperor should be
confirmed by a vote of the Mexican people.

On the third of October, 1863, an embassy from Mexico arrived at Miramar
with a formal offer of the crown. It was headed by Don Gutierrez de
Estrada, who had labored for twenty years to restore a monarchy in
Mexico. Maximilian’s reply was as follows:

“I am deeply moved by the wishes of the Mexican assembly. It is most
flattering to our house that their choice should have fallen on a
descendant of Charles the Fifth. Yet noble and lofty a mission as it is
to establish the welfare and independence of Mexico, I agree with the
Emperor Napoleon that the monarchy can be restored on a firm and stable
basis only by the free consent of the people. My acceptance must
therefore be conditional on that. On the other hand, it shall be my duty
to secure the guarantees necessary to protect Mexico against the dangers
that menace her honor and her liberties. If I succeed in this and the
vote of the people be in my favor, then I shall be ready, with the
consent of my imperial brother, to accept the crown. Should Providence
call me to this high mission, it is my firm intention, after the
pacification of the country, to open the way for progress by granting a
constitution and to make this fundamental law permanent by an oath. Only
in this way can a new and truly national policy be created, by means of
which all parties, forgetting their differences, may work with me to
lift Mexico to an eminent place among the nations. Bring me this
declaration, then, on the part of your fellow-citizens and, if possible,
ascertain what form of government they desire.”

This was a frank and manly answer, and no doubt the emissaries of the
Mexican people who carried it back across the Atlantic were equally
honorable in their intentions. How the vote was really obtained,
however, is told us by Montlong:

At Monterey the French general, Jeanningres, summoned the most
influential citizens and addressed them thus: “The Emperor of the
French, always solicitous for the welfare of this unhappy country, has
determined to transform the Mexican republic into a great and prosperous
empire, and in the interests of this undertaking has chosen for your
Emperor one of the most liberal and enlightened princes in Europe, the
Archduke Maximilian of Austria. But as Napoleon wishes him to be elected
by general consent of the people I have summoned you here in order to
receive your votes.” Then with a threatening glance he added: “You
accept, do you not, gentlemen, the prince chosen for you by the Emperor
Napoleon?”

Intimidated by the General’s manner and the ranks of soldiery behind
him, all replied in the affirmative, whereupon Jeanningres, addressing
the general staff officer who was to record the votes, ordered him:
“Write, sir, that this city votes unanimously for the Empire, and permit
these gentlemen to sign it.”

The same method of procedure was enacted in every town. When the
principal citizens of Potosi refused to sign a similar document, the
officer in command caused them all to be imprisoned for thirty-six hours
till hunger forced them to yield. Thus by fraud the Empire was founded,
as by treachery it fell, both marked characteristics of this nation as
we shall see later.

The way now seemed clear, but at the last moment an unforeseen
difficulty arose. While the Archduke was making a round of farewell
visits at various European courts, it was decided at Vienna to demand a
renunciation of all rights of succession to the throne of Austria on the
part of Maximilian and his possible descendants. Emperor Francis Joseph
strongly opposed this, justly maintaining that if such a step were
considered necessary, it should not have been deferred till the last
moment, but Count Rechberg and Baron Lichtenfels were firm. The former
undertook to lay the matter before the Archduke on his return, but was
so coldly received that he abandoned any further attempt, while
Maximilian himself declared that had this point been presented to him
earlier, negotiations with Mexico would have been broken off at once.
This, of course, was now out of the question, and after much discussion
he finally agreed to sign the act of renunciation, thus removing the
last obstacle.

On the tenth of April, 1864, a second embassy, consisting of twenty
distinguished Mexicans, again headed by Estrada, arrived at Miramar to
perform the coronation ceremony. In his address, spoken in French, Don
Gutierrez alluded, first of all, to the gratifying result of the popular
vote. As to the method by which it had been secured the good man
probably had as little knowledge as Maximilian himself. He then recalled
France’s service to his native country, whose future prosperity he hoped
would be assured under the new monarchy. Mexico gratefully acknowledged
the Archduke’s self-sacrifice in accepting this difficult position and
was ready to hail with joy her chosen sovereign, whose motto was,
_Justitia regnorum fundamentum_.

Maximilian’s reply was in Spanish. He declared that since the two
conditions required by him had been fulfilled, he was now able to redeem
the promise given six months before and was ready to accept the offered
crown. The oath was then administered. Maximilian swore to guard the
liberties of the Mexican nation under all circumstances and to do all in
his power for the welfare and prosperity of the people, after which
Estrada swore allegiance in the name of Mexico and was decorated by his
sovereign with the grand cross of the newly revived Guadeloupe order. A
triple “Viva” followed to the new Emperor and Empress in whose honor the
imperial Mexican flag was hoisted on the tower of Miramar, amidst salvos
from batteries and battle ships. A solemn Te Deum in the palace chapel
concluded the ceremonies.

On the same day the Emperor signed the important convention with
Napoleon, known as the Treaty of Miramar, whereby it was agreed to
reduce the French troops as soon as possible to 25,000, including the
foreign legion. This body should evacuate the country as soon as forces
could be organized to take their place, yet the foreign legion of 8000
was to remain, if required, for six years after the above withdrawal and
be supported from this time by the Mexican government. The transport
service for French military supplies must be paid by the same government
with 400,000 francs for the round trip, likewise the cost of the French
expedition, fixed at 270,000,000 francs for the whole time, till July 1,
1864, with interest at three per cent per annum. After this date the
expenses of the Mexican army rested with Mexico, which had also to give
1000 francs for the maintenance of each French soldier, pay included.
Against these sums the Mexican government had to pay at once 66,000,000
francs in bonds of the late loan and 25,000,000 francs in specie
annually. A mixed commission of three Frenchmen and three Mexicans was
to meet at Mexico within three months to adjust the claims of French
citizens. All Mexican prisoners of war held by the French were to be
released as soon as Maximilian entered his States. In addition to this,
there were three secret clauses, by utilizing which France afterward,
and not without some show of reason, attempted to extricate herself from
her dangerous position.




                              Chapter III
                    Arrival of the Emperor in Mexico


On the tenth of April, 1864, the die was cast for Archduke Maximilian
and Carlotta. On the fourteenth, the day set for departure, all was
bustle and confusion at Miramar, usually so peaceful. The harbor of
Trieste was filled with vessels, large and small, and, anchored at some
distance from shore, lay the _Novara_, the Austrian warship that was to
convey the imperial pair to Mexico. Little did any one then suspect that
this same vessel was so soon to bring back the body of Maximilian,
cruelly murdered by Mexican rebels! To-day all was joyous anticipation.
A gayly decorated barge carried the Emperor and Empress out to the
_Novara_. Showers of blossoms were flung after them as they left the
shore, lined with thousands of spectators, and floated gently out upon
the blue waves of the Adriatic. Cannon thundered a farewell. Maximilian
looked for the last time upon his native shores.

Two nights later the travellers rounded the southernmost point of Italy,
and on the eighteenth reached Civita Vecchia where they landed and were
met by the French and Italian ambassadors, envoys from Belgium and
Austria, and the Cardinals sent by Pope Pius Ninth to welcome
Maximilian. A special train was waiting to convey the entire party to
Rome where, on the nineteenth of April, the Emperor had an audience with
the Pope. Church affairs in Mexico had been completely demoralized by
Juarez, and one of the Emperor’s chief tasks was to restore order and
provide for the religious needs of his people. The following day Pope
Pius Ninth returned the visit at the Palazzo Marescotti, after which the
imperial party returned to Civita Vecchia, where they again boarded the
_Novara_ and resumed their voyage. At Gibraltar another stop of two days
was made, and on the twenty-eighth of May the _Novara_ anchored before
the city of Vera Cruz. The goal was reached—but what of Maximilian’s
reception by the people of Mexico who had chosen him as their sovereign
by a unanimous vote?

Although the French frigate _Themis_, which escorted the _Novara_ across
the Atlantic, had hastened on in advance to notify the city of the
Emperor’s arrival, there was no commotion in the harbor. No flags were
flying, no guns roared a welcome, no one was waiting to receive him. A
feeling of uneasiness pervaded the Emperor’s household, but Maximilian
himself made no comment. After a long delay the commander-in-chief of
the French fleet, Rear-admiral Bosse, and his adjutant finally made
their appearance, though even then, according to the Countess Kollowitz,
their greeting was none too warm. Quite different, however, was the
Emperor’s reception in the towns between Vera Cruz and Mexico; his
journey to the capital was like a triumphal progress.

Thus did Maximilian enter the land that was henceforth to claim his
whole attention and best endeavor. For this indifferent and ungrateful
people he had undertaken the Herculean task of regenerating a country
wasted by forty years of civil warfare; regulating a society demoralized
by anarchy; restoring national prosperity; reviving industries; and
reconciling to law and order a people to whom outlawry and robbery had
become second nature. The army must be reorganized, the land rid of
marauders, contending factions appeased and made to work together for
the common good. The Church must be placed once more on a settled basis,
new channels of trade established, and the whole national standard of
civilization raised. These were surely problems to daunt the bravest!
Well may Maximilian have hesitated long before accepting such
responsibilities, yet with heroic self-sacrifice the young Emperor set
himself to this stupendous work. That he failed was no doubt due partly
to his unfitness for the task, but more to the insuperable obstacles
that loomed before and finally crushed the noble Hapsburger.




                               Chapter IV
                      Maximilian’s First Measures


One of the first necessities that confronted Maximilian in the execution
of his mission was the establishment of diplomatic relations with the
world. The courts of Vienna, Rome, Paris, and Brussels had been informed
at once of his acceptance of the throne of Mexico. It now remained to
notify the remaining powers of this event. A decree was issued on the
twenty-first of June, 1864, empowering the foreign office to make the
necessary arrangements. By the end of the year Mexico had been
recognized as an Empire by Russia, Sweden, Turkey, Denmark, Portugal,
Spain, Italy, France, and England, also by the German Confederation and
the Shah of Persia. Far more valuable to the new monarchy would have
been its recognition by the United States, but the White House at
Washington still looked upon Juarez as President of Mexico, as did its
smaller and less important neighbors on the south, the republics of
Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, San Salvador, and Costa Rica. Thus the
Empire was surrounded by hostile countries, while its only ally in
America, the Emperor Don Pedro Second of Brazil, could be of little use.

Maximilian appointed the advocate Don José Ramirez as minister of
foreign affairs—a man concerning whom opinion is divided. There can be
no question, however, as to his ability and his loyalty to Maximilian,
to whom he proved a valuable counsellor, although the Emperor
unfortunately did not always follow his advice. Maximilian took no
further action in governmental affairs until he had gained a more
intimate knowledge of the country. Though well versed in the language
and history of Mexico as well as its political complications, he
discovered at once the necessity of a personal acquaintance with the
various portions of his new realm and determined to make a tour of those
provinces loyal to him. Meanwhile he devoted himself to learning the
needs of his people. With this object in view he spent much time walking
about the streets of the capital or visiting various public and
charitable institutions. The Empress was her husband’s constant
companion, sharing all his cares and interests, and although Maximilian
did not always agree with her opinions, her clever pen, her quick wit,
and cultivated mind often proved of great help to him.

He soon discovered many evils the existence of which he had not
suspected. The Mexican is profuse in promises which are never kept, and
Maximilian had daily proof of this national characteristic. In spite of
his personal charm and kindness the French officers kept jealously aloof
from him, regarding themselves as slighted in the distribution of
orders. The clergy, disappointed that the Church property confiscated by
Juarez had not been immediately restored to them, were dissatisfied with
the new government, while the republicans under Juarez refused, of
course, to acknowledge the Empire.

The accusation made by these malcontents that Maximilian did not attempt
to improve conditions was entirely unjustified, however. Few that
followed his career realized how diligently and self-sacrificingly he
labored for that end. That the restoration of order must be gradually
accomplished was self-evident. Realizing that drastic measures were
necessary at many points in the affairs of state, he was forced to take
time for observation and investigation before attempting any change.
Many evils had to be endured temporarily before any radical changes
could be made, and he had also to consult the opinions of his advisers,
whether in accordance with his own or not.

His first attention was devoted to the regulation of military and
financial matters. A commission, headed by General Bazaine,
commander-in-chief of the French troops, was appointed to meet on the
fourteenth of July to consider the reorganization of the army. The
relations between Maximilian and this officer had been none too friendly
from the first. Bazaine considered himself his own master and troubled
himself little as to the Emperor’s views. In justice to Napoleon Third,
however, it must be said that he seems to have been very imperfectly
informed as to the actions and practices of his generals in Mexico. All
correspondence with France had to pass through the hands of Bazaine or
his subordinates, who could easily color reports to suit themselves. On
the fifteenth of July a commission, presided over by Velasquez de Leon,
and consisting of landed proprietors, merchants, manufacturers, and mine
owners, met to discuss the regulation of financial affairs.

From the first Maximilian exerted himself to do away with antiquated
customs, and as early as the sixteenth of July a decree was issued
requiring all officers of justice to be at their posts from nine to
twelve in the morning and shortening their annual leave of absence from
three months to six weeks, an innovation that met with small favor from
the Mexicans, as may be imagined.

On the tenth of August the Emperor set out upon his tour into the
interior, the government during his absence being left in charge of the
Empress. He was accompanied by his life-long friend, Count Bombelles,
his secretary, Iglesias, Privy Councillor Scherzenlechner, and the Lord
Chamberlain Felipe Raygosa. Originally planned for four weeks, the
journey extended over three months. A proclamation had been issued by
Velasquez de Leon, shortly before the Emperor’s departure, announcing
his tour and forbidding any state receptions or entertainments in order
to spare expense to the people, impoverished by years of civil strife.
In spite of this prohibition, however, magnificent triumphal arches were
erected in many places in honor of the Emperor, who was welcomed with
great enthusiasm by the populace, the Indians, in particular, gathering
in crowds everywhere to gaze at their new sovereign.

On the seventeenth of August Maximilian arrived at Querétaro where he
was received with great enthusiasm and remained for several days, being
royally entertained. Little did any of those who joined in the
festivities suspect that in this very town, only three years later, the
Emperor was to lay down his life for Mexico! From there he went on to
Celaya which was reached a week later. In many places through which they
passed evidences were visible of the effects of the famine that existed
in the interior of the country, and where the suffering was greatest
Maximilian distributed considerable sums of money from his own purse. At
Trapuato the Emperor was suddenly seized with an attack of quinsy which
confined him to his bed for two weeks. This delay, together with other
unforeseen occurrences in the capital, obliged him to abandon the rest
of his journey, and the party returned to Mexico, though by a different
route, arriving on the thirtieth of October.

This tour of Maximilian’s had proved a continuous ovation, but how much
of the popular enthusiasm was due to his personality rather than to
allegiance to him as a sovereign is a question. He had shown himself
everywhere most gracious and kindly, granting audiences to persons of
all classes with a fearlessness which, considering the state of the
country, must have commanded the respect even of his enemies. Whether he
allowed himself to be deceived by these demonstrations is uncertain. At
all events he returned well content with the results of his journey and
full of hope for the future. That many of the great changes planned by
him for the benefit of the people were never put into execution was not
altogether his fault. To carry out any thorough system of reform large
sums of money are needed, and the treasury was exhausted.

Maximilian’s first act after his return was to form a ministry. During
his travels he had met many able and patriotic Mexicans who, he fancied,
would be of great assistance to him in his projected reforms, and from
these he chose his ministers exclusively, though doubtless well aware
that in some cases the positions would have been better filled by
Austrians, Belgians, or Frenchmen. When reminded of this by his friends,
however, he would say, “Have patience! When the country learns that
Mexican ministers are good-for-nothing, I may be justified in appointing
others, and my people can then have nothing to reproach me with.” This
was no doubt wise on the Emperor’s part. The appointment of foreigners
would have excited suspicion if not rebellion at once among the
excitable and distrustful Mexicans.

On his tour Maximilian had discovered that the country’s most pressing
need was the revival of commerce. New channels of trade must be created,
and for this purpose the laying out of highways and the building of
bridges was ordered. Robles, minister of public works, was commissioned
to build a railroad between Querétaro and Guanajuato, an undertaking
which was never carried out, however. A railroad from Mexico to Vera
Cruz was also planned, the execution of which was entrusted to an
English company, and three different companies received permission to
run steamship lines between the more important seaports of the country.
To exterminate the robber bands and secure safety for the life and
property of the people, a much needed system of militia was instituted
on the seventh of November, 1864. At the same time the Emperor urged
most strictly upon all magistrates of the various provinces the
following injunctions: preservation of law and order, firm
administration of justice, supervision of the press, construction and
maintenance of roads, extermination of marauders and outlaws,
sanitation, improvements in agriculture and the breeding of cattle,
conservation of forests, etc.

All this proves the loftiness of Maximilian’s aims—nor were his hands
idle as some of his enemies maliciously maintained. Could he but have
had the necessary support and coöperation, conditions in that
unfortunate country must soon have improved. But with only the fickle
and treacherous Mexicans to depend upon, all these reforms were of brief
duration—a mere ripple on the stream.




                               Chapter V
                        Church Affairs in Mexico


The most difficult problem now awaiting solution was the religious
situation in Mexico. Forty years of internal strife and anarchy had
inevitably lowered the standards of the people and weakened their sense
of right and wrong, as was proved by Juarez’s treatment of Church
property. The claim of the enemies of the Catholic Church, however, that
the priesthood was responsible for this moral degradation, is entirely
without foundation. All reports agree that the priests were then, as
now, the friends and guardians of the Indians. Many of the stanchest
supporters of Mexican independence—among them Hidalgo, Morelos, and
Guerrero—belonged to the clerical party, and even at the present day a
large part of the minor clergy are Indians.

Accounts vary as to the value of the Church’s property in Mexico at that
time, but it is a matter of little importance, since it had been seized
and disposed of by Juarez and his followers long before Maximilian’s
arrival. Indeed, this had been one of the chief causes for the latter’s
hesitation in accepting the throne.

The only possible method of dealing with this knotty question seemed to
be that of direct negotiation with the papal chair, and a special envoy
was sent to Mexico by Pope Pius Ninth for this purpose. The nuncio,
Monsignore Meglia, was received by Maximilian with every mark of honor
and escorted in state to the capital where a round of festivities
ensued, after which the Emperor and his guest devoted themselves to the
matter in hand. Nine points were submitted by Maximilian and his
ministers for debate, the chief of which may be briefly stated as
follows: Free observance of all religions in Mexico, in so far as they
did not violate the laws of the country; all expenses of Catholic
worship to be borne by the State; no taxes nor gratuities of any kind to
be paid to the clergy by the people; cession by the Church of all
possessions declared to be national property; enjoyment by the Emperor
of all rights possessed by his predecessors, the Kings of Spain, in
Mexico; a mutual agreement to exist between the Pope and the Emperor to
resist aggression on the part of any or all religious orders in Mexico;
existing communities to remain on condition that no more novices be
received until conditions were settled.

The delicate nature of these matters may readily be perceived as well as
the difficulty of their settlement. Negotiations, in fact, were soon
broken off and an uncomfortable open rupture occurred between the
Emperor’s ministers and Monsignore Meglia, who left the capital with his
suite on the twenty-seventh of May, and returned to Rome without having
accomplished his mission.




                               Chapter VI
                       Enemies Within and Without


Maximilian’s failure to settle this question, so important to Mexico,
not only was of the greatest detriment to the restoration of peace and
order, but also lost him the sympathies of the clerical party, already
averse to the new sovereignty.

The unsettled condition of the country has been already alluded to. It
is impossible for peaceful industries to flourish where the lives and
property of citizens are in constant danger. The path of outlawry and
anarchy is marked only by mouldering corpses and smoking ruins. Some
idea of the state of things may be obtained from a report sent by the
prefect of Zamora to his chief, Antonio Moral, on the ninth of March,
1865:

“This prefecture has learned through spies and other sources of
information that the robber chiefs Regules, Salazar, Egiulus, and others
are assembling their bands in large numbers for attack. Should the
troops stationed at Mazamitla and Uruapan be withdrawn, the bandits will
capture this town without a doubt, an event which would be followed by
the most serious consequences. I must add that all towns in the south of
this department are in the same danger, and earnestly implore aid.
Pazcuaro is menaced by more than 1400 outlaws. Unless General Neigre,
who has been informed of the danger, speedily sends assistance, it will
fall into their hands and a terrible catastrophe be precipitated.”

On the tenth of May, 1865, the Mexican commander-in-chief, Vicente
Rosas, writes to the minister of war:

“Matters are bad and grow worse daily. Besides the bands of Regules and
Pueblita, several others are roving about in this vicinity, plundering
and burning _haciendas_. Unless something can be done to remedy affairs,
this whole department will be lost.”

The country’s most serious enemy, however, was its ex-President, Benito
Juarez. Born about 1807, in the State of Oaxaca, of an Indian family,
claiming descent from Zapotekos, Juarez’s childhood was spent in extreme
poverty. With a natural thirst for knowledge, he eagerly availed himself
of all the opportunities for learning that came within his reach, and,
finally succeeding in obtaining some education, he determined to devote
himself to the study of law. A wealthy Indian merchant, named Don José
Hernandez, had taken him into his service as errand-boy from which
position he soon rose to a clerkship, and afterward was admitted to the
bar with the dignity of Doctor of Laws. Later he was elected to the
Vice-Presidency under Comonfort, upon whose resignation, in 1858, Juarez
became President of Mexico.

When Maximilian assumed the throne, Juarez’s term of office had nearly
expired (November 30, 1864). He would have been wise therefore to
recognize the Empire, under which he might have looked to hold some
important position. Maximilian, indeed, did make overtures to the
ex-President by offering him a place in the cabinet, but Juarez coldly
declined, preferring to remain at the head of the revolutionists, who
kept Mexico in a state of turmoil and effectually prevented any peaceful
development of that distracted country.

The position taken by the United States toward the new Empire has
already been alluded to. On the fourth of April, 1864, Congress adopted
a resolution declaring the unwillingness of the United States tacitly to
appear before the world as an indifferent spectator of the deplorable
events then taking place in Mexico, and its refusal to recognize a
monarchical government founded on the ruins of an American republic and
under the protection of a European power.

Much to his regret, therefore, Maximilian was forced to abandon all
thought of an embassy at Washington. Realizing fully how great an
advantage recognition by the United States would have been to the
Empire, both he and his ministers had used every effort to establish
friendly relations between the two governments. The White House,
however, still continued to recognize Juarez and his ambassador, Romero,
a crafty official who succeeded, not only in establishing recruiting
offices for his master in some of the large cities of the United States,
but in winning over many of the newspapers also to his side.




                              Chapter VII
                      Bazaine’s Position in Mexico


The attitude taken by the French in Mexico has already been alluded to.
Bazaine in particular seems from the first to have been little affected
by the Emperor’s good example. He was well aware of France’s
incalculable services to Mexico, and that it was French bayonets chiefly
which still maintained some show of order in the country. As for
Maximilian, while thoroughly appreciating Bazaine’s ability, he could
not but regard him as the man of whose will he was more or less at the
mercy, and felt most keenly the arbitrary acts of the Marshal and his
underlings, of which the following examples will serve as illustrations.

In 1864 the French general, Briancourt, had a Mexican colonel arrested
and forced him to sweep the streets for two hours every day. Indignant
at this outrage, some ladies of the town brought wreaths of flowers to
the colonel as he swept, whereupon Briancourt had bills posted
proclaiming that in the future any one who committed this offence should
share the prisoner’s sentence. After being humiliated in this way for
ten days, the imperial officer was summoned before Briancourt, who
dismissed him with the words: “Go where you choose now—over to the
republicans—for all I care!” And the colonel actually did join the
Emperor’s enemies, with several other officers.

A French officer, meeting one of his comrades who had served through a
campaign under Lieutenant-colonel Ornano, congratulated him on having
been one of those receiving decorations for bravery. “You do me an
injustice!” replied the other. “We invariably turned our backs upon the
enemy and if Ornano singled me out in his report, it was only through
fear lest I might betray how it was falsified. Let me tell you just one
incident of this honorable campaign. As we were approaching the village
of San Francisco, Ornano sent a party of cavalry in advance to
reconnoitre. A fifteen-year-old boy, attracted by the sound of riders,
came to the door of his house to see who they were, and, as he galloped
by, the leader of the patrol split the poor child’s skull with one
stroke of his sabre, just as his mother was about to draw him back into
the house. Truly a heroic deed!”

These examples will suffice to prove with what contempt the French
regarded the Mexicans and how the officers especially lost no
opportunity of turning the Emperor’s subjects against him, even while
they themselves were still supposed to be in Maximilian’s service. It
would be unjust, however, to accuse the whole army of this treacherous
behavior, nor can Napoleon Third be held responsible for it. He was a
warm personal friend of Maximilian in the first place, and it seems
reasonable to assume that he was ignorant of such conduct on the part of
Bazaine or he would have recalled him and sent some one else in his
place.

On the third of October, 1865, a report having been generally circulated
that Juarez had fled from Mexico and taken refuge in Texas, the Emperor
issued a decree for which he has been severely criticised. It ran in
substance as follows: All persons belonging to armed bands or companies,
political or otherwise, not lawfully authorized, under whatever
appellation or for whatever purpose, shall be tried by court-martial,
and if found guilty shall be condemned to death and executed within
twenty-four hours from the date of sentence.

Bazaine is believed by some to have been the real author of this edict,
which was aimed at the destruction of the robber bands that infested the
country, but by authority of which Maximilian himself was afterward
sentenced to death by Juarez. As, however, it was signed by all
Maximilian’s liberal ministers it seems more probable that they were
responsible for a decree so little in accordance with his kindly nature.

Whether or no Bazaine had any share in the framing of this edict, he
certainly did all in his power to further its execution, as appears from
a confidential message to his generals sent with a copy of the decree.
He concludes, “You are hereby commanded to notify the troops under your
orders that no more prisoners are to be taken. All individuals found
under arms, irrespective of person, are to be shot on sight. In future
there will be no more exchange of prisoners; on both sides, it is kill
or be killed.”

By these cruel means he hoped to prejudice the people against their
sovereign, thereby furthering his own ambitious schemes for becoming
President of Mexico himself, schemes which were destined never to be
realized, however.




                              Chapter VIII
                      Fruits of the New Government


We have seen from the preceding chapters what the state of affairs in
Mexico was when Maximilian assumed the government. By the beginning of
the second year of the Empire matters had already materially changed.
Most of the country folk had returned to their farms, and city merchants
who dealt in agricultural implements soon saw their stock disappear, and
were forced to order fresh supplies. This led to a steady commercial
intercourse with the United States which greatly increased after the
close of the Civil War. In the Spring of 1865 the duties to Mexico from
New York alone amounted to 1,700,000 pesos in a single week. Trade with
the West Indies, South America, and Europe was also extensive. Merchants
who at first had been obliged to purchase on credit, owing to the
prevailing lack of funds, were by this time able to pay cash for goods.
This was certainly one good result of the new government, as must have
been recognized by all public-minded Mexicans.

With the prospect of profit and an assured market, trades and crafts
also revived. Hundreds of youths, who had been torn from their peaceful
occupations and forced to join the revolutionist bands, returned to
their apprenticeships. Channels of trade were improved. A regular line
of mail steamships was established in the Gulf of Mexico, and
intercourse was resumed with all Pacific ports. Fine steamers made
monthly trips from San Francisco to La Paz, Guaymas, and Mazatlan, and
twice a month from Guaymas to Acapulco. Construction was begun on the
railroad between Vera Cruz and the capital, though it was afterward
suspended. A telegraph line was built from Mexico to San Luis Potosi.
The national finances were also much improved. Customs receipts steadily
increased and the mints coined more dollars than ever before, though
still bearing the stamp of the Republic.

These were some of the happy results of the new administration. That
they were of but brief duration was not the fault of the government nor
yet of the Emperor, but of Juarez who, still passing as President,
succeeded only too well in his schemes for undermining the Empire.

With increasing prosperity came a revival of various sports and
amusements, of which the Mexican people are naturally so fond. Early in
the year 1865 most of the European ambassadors arrived with their
suites, and a series of splendid entertainments followed at the imperial
court. Later the marriage of Marshal Bazaine to the seventeen-year-old
niece of General Lopez furnished occasion for more festivities. These
diversions, however, did not cause the Emperor to slacken his labors for
the improvement of the country. On the third of March, 1865, he had the
Empire divided into fifty departments and revived the so-called “Indian
Council,” which had existed in the days of Spanish sovereignty, placing
at its head the advocate, Faustin Chimalpopoca, a pure Aztec. The
Indians still formed the larger part of the population of Mexico in
spite of the efforts of the Republic to enslave and crush them.
Realizing the importance of this class of people, Maximilian took the
greatest interest in their protection and welfare, while they in turn
remained loyal to him to the last.

On the tenth of April, 1865, the anniversary of his acceptance of the
crown, Maximilian published an imperial statute declaring that, as a
number of provinces still remained hostile to the Empire, he did not
deem it wise as yet to introduce popular representation, but promised to
do so as soon as the national disturbances were settled. Besides the
Guadeloupe order, revived in 1863, and the order of the Mexican Eagle,
founded in January, 1865, a special order for women, that of San Carlos,
was instituted, April tenth, by the joint sovereigns. Another important
task was the reorganization of the army. Most of the Mexican officers at
that time were quite useless and must be got rid of. To replace these
and furnish a supply of efficient native officers, Maximilian opened the
military school at Chapultepec.




                               Chapter IX
                       Louis Napoleon’s Attitude


When Maximilian ascended the throne of Mexico, the Civil War was still
raging in the United States, and the White House had no time to care for
the affairs of its southern neighbor. Although from the first the United
States had refused to recognize the Empire, its attitude had been
neutral rather than actually hostile, and Napoleon was counting on an
indefinite continuation of the war for the furtherance of his plans. The
end came sooner than was expected, however. After a bitter struggle the
Southern States yielded to the North, and this materially changed the
situation in Mexico. Juarez was now not only regarded as President, but
furnished with active support, without which he would doubtless have
been forced to give up the struggle. He hovered on the border, now on
one side of the line, now on the other, escaping into Texas when the
enemy was close at his heels, and remaining there in safety until the
danger was passed, then crossing back into Mexico again, where,
reinforced by volunteers from the north, he won frequent victories over
the imperial troops and constantly gained ground.

Napoleon’s position was likewise changed. In a speech delivered from the
throne on the twenty-second of January, 1866, he declared:

“In Mexico the government founded by the people continues to thrive. The
rebels, overpowered and dispersed, have no longer any leaders. The
national troops have proved their valor and the country has furnished
security for order and safety in the development of resources which have
made its commerce worth millions with France alone. Our enterprise
therefore is progressing most successfully, as I last year expressed the
hope that it would. As to the recall of our troops I have come to an
understanding with Emperor Maximilian, whereby their withdrawal may be
accomplished without danger to the interests of France, for the
protection of which in that distant country we have pledged ourselves.
Any objections raised by the United States to the continued presence of
our troops in Mexico will be removed, I feel sure, by the justice of our
explanations. The American people will perceive that an enterprise in
which we sought their aid cannot be contrary to their interests. Two
nations, equally jealous of their rights, must naturally resent any step
that might jeopardize their honor or their dignity.”

Plausible and reassuring as this sounds, it nevertheless betrays two
facts: France’s fear of being drawn into war with the United States if
she continued to maintain an army on American soil, and Napoleon’s
desire to conciliate that country even at the cost of violating the
Treaty of Miramar. True, there may have been something in the secret
articles added to this document which justified Napoleon’s methods,
while on the other hand it is evident that Maximilian was far from
opposing the recall of Bazaine, nor did he object to the gradual
withdrawal of the French troops, as may be seen from the following
announcement that appeared in the _Monitor_:

“In pursuance to an agreement between M. Dano, the French ambassador,
His Excellency Marshal Bazaine, and the Mexican government, the Emperor
has ordered that the French troops shall leave Mexico in three
detachments: the first to go in November, 1866, the second in March,
1867, the third in the following November. Negotiations between the two
governments have also begun to substitute those articles of the Treaty
of Miramar relating to finance, new stipulations whereby France’s
indebtedness and the interest of the loan guaranteed by her to Mexico
shall be assured.”

The United States declared itself satisfied with these assurances and
continued to assist Juarez in his attempts to undermine the government.

The year 1866, which thus began so peacefully on paper at a time when
there was little peace in the air, either in Europe or America, was to
prove an eventful one for Maximilian, and hastened with giant strides
the downfall of the Mexican Empire.




                               Chapter X
                     The Empress’ Journey to Europe


On the seventh of July, 1866, the following unexpected announcement
appeared in one of the Mexican journals: “Her Majesty, the Empress,
leaves to-morrow for Europe, where she is to arrange the settlement of
various matters of Mexican as well as international import. No greater
proof of patriotism and self-denial could be furnished on the part of
our sovereign than the assumption of this mission, the more so as the
Empress sails from Vera Cruz, where yellow fever is so prevalent at this
season. We publish this in order that the people may know the real
purpose of Her Majesty’s journey.”

The Empress Carlotta’s sudden departure aroused great excitement. It was
generally felt, and not without reason, that such a step must have been
due to weighty causes, the issue of which it was at that time impossible
to foresee. For Maximilian it marked a turning-point in his career. It
was as if with the departure of his guardian angel, Fortune too had
forsaken him and abandoned him to his fate.

                   [Illustration: _EMPRESS CARLOTTA_]

Unexpectedly and most uncomfortably for Napoleon, Carlotta arrived at
St. Nazaire on the eighth of August by the packet-boat, _Empress
Eugénie_. She was met by the Mexican ambassador, Almonte, and his wife,
who travelled with her to Paris without delay. Metternich, the Austrian
ambassador, was awaiting her at the Grand Hotel, and on the eleventh of
August she had a long interview with Napoleon at St. Cloud. Accounts
vary as to what actually transpired on this memorable occasion, but
according to Hellwald, who seems a reliable authority, three points were
discussed. The first related to the postponement of the withdrawal of
the first detachment of French troops from November, 1866, to April,
1867, by which time Maximilian hoped to have his own army so
strengthened that he could better spare the French. Juarez had been
making such headway in the north that the Emperor did not dare as yet to
dispense with his allies. Next the Empress desired that Bazaine should
be immediately recalled and General Donay sent out in his place, a
request not difficult to understand considering the many differences
that had occurred between Maximilian and the Marshal. The third point
concerned Mexico’s ever empty exchequer. By the Treaty of Miramar Mexico
had agreed to repay her financial obligations to France; but, as we have
seen, she was by no means able to pay her debts or even the interest on
them.

In her first interview the Empress accomplished nothing. Napoleon was
unwilling to defer the withdrawal of his troops for some months, for
fear of giving offence to the government at Washington. As to the second
point no agreement was arrived at, for Bazaine was not recalled. When he
did leave Mexico at last, he not only took the entire army with him, but
also induced the volunteers from Austria and Belgium to resign. As to a
settlement of the Mexican debt, however, a separate treaty was
concluded.

On the twenty-second of August Empress Eugénie and Emperor Napoleon made
a final visit to Empress Carlotta, who left Paris on the following day
for Brussels. From there she went to Italy, and on the twenty-ninth
arrived once more at Miramar where she had spent so many happy days.
Another task now awaited her. As the negotiations between Maximilian’s
ministry and the papal nuncio concerning the religious situation in
Mexico had been unsuccessful, Carlotta determined to try and settle the
affair herself. On the twenty-fifth of September, therefore, she arrived
again in Rome with her suite and two days later had a long audience with
the Pope. Soon after this she was suddenly taken ill. At first her
attack was said to be only the result of the fatigues of her long
journey and the change of climate, an explanation which seemed
sufficiently plausible. The real nature of the illness could not be long
concealed, however. The Empress’ mind had become totally deranged, and
her malady was later pronounced incurable. Shocked as all Europe was by
this dreadful news, what must have been its effect upon Maximilian! How
he received it, is told as follows by his own physician, Dr. Basch:

“The Emperor at this time was living entirely secluded in the palace,
only Herzfeld, the Minister of State, Father Fischer, the court
chaplain, and myself being present at his table. There were no invited
guests till the eighteenth of August, for the afternoon of which a large
dinner was planned. That morning the Emperor held a council of state, at
the close of which I entered the imperial cabinet. While I was present,
two cable despatches arrived from Europe, at sight of which His Majesty
was visibly alarmed. His forebodings were well founded. The first was
sent by Castello from Rome on the fifth of October, and read:

“‘Her Majesty, the Empress, has succumbed to the fatigues and
difficulties of her mission, and must be taken to Miramar without delay,
accompanied by her physicians.’

“The other, dated the twelfth, was from Count Bombelles at Miramar, and
contained the further information that all hope was not yet abandoned.
Her Majesty, with her entire suite, was at Miramar, and a member of the
household would follow at once with advices. Herzfeld opened the
despatches and, unwilling to break their contents too suddenly to the
Emperor, pretended that he was unable to decipher them exactly, but
reassured His Majesty by asserting that the news apparently referred to
the illness of some one at Miramar, probably one of the Empress’
ladies-in-waiting, Madame Bario, who was a Mexican.

“The facts could not long be concealed, however, for the Emperor,
suspecting that something was being withheld from him, insisted upon
knowing the truth.

“‘I feel that something terrible has happened,’ he declared. ‘Tell me
what it is, for I am consumed with anxiety.’

“While Herzfeld was seemingly studying the despatches more closely, I
retired to my apartment, but was soon summoned again by His Majesty. As
I entered, he turned to me, tears streaming down his cheeks, and asked,

“‘Do you know who Dr. Riedel is in Vienna?’

“At the mention of this name, the truth flashed upon me. Herzfeld had
disclosed the news, and much as I longed to spare the Emperor, I could
not lie to him.

“‘He is the director of the Insane Asylum,’ I was reluctantly forced to
reply.”

These melancholy tidings only served to hasten the impending crisis.
Already disheartened by repeated trials and disappointments, Maximilian
now saw his last hope vanish, and felt himself deserted by Providence.
Indifferent to all that passed, his only thought seemed to be of
hastening to his beloved wife and leaving behind him this ill-fated
country to which she had been so cruelly sacrificed.




                               Chapter XI
          Events in Mexico after the Departure of the Empress


Two persons have already been mentioned who played an important part in
the events of this history, Herzfeld, the Minister of State, and Father
Fischer. Herzfeld was a German and devoted to the Emperor. Unfortunately
Maximilian sent him back to Europe soon after this, thereby depriving
himself of a valuable friend and adviser in his days of misfortune.
Father Fischer was born in Würtemberg, of Protestant parents, and seems
to have had rather an adventurous career. He came to America with a band
of emigrants who settled in Texas, and went from there to California as
a gold miner. Becoming a convert to Catholicism, he entered the Jesuit
order, from which he was subsequently dismissed, for good and sufficient
reasons, no doubt. The description of this man given by the Emperor’s
physician is far from flattering, but it is manifestly unjust to lay his
faults at the door of the much-abused order of Jesuits. A whole society
cannot be held responsible for the deeds or misdeeds of a single member,
still less when that member has ceased to be one. At all events Father
Fischer belonged to the Emperor’s closest circle of friends, another
member of which was Professor Bilimek, whose acquaintance we shall make
in the next chapter. This man was a scholar, absorbed in the study of
the flowers and butterflies of Mexico and troubling himself little with
political affairs.

After the departure of the Empress matters went rapidly from bad to
worse. In the north the followers of Juarez had inflicted a series of
defeats on the imperial troops and were steadily gaining ground, while
in the capital the outlook was far from encouraging. Maximilian had
replaced two of his Mexican ministers with Frenchmen, Generals Osmont
and Friant, but their attempts to remedy the situation were frustrated
by the pride and jealousy of the Mexicans who bitterly resented the
appointment of foreigners to these high positions. The United States,
moreover, took exceptions to these appointments as a violation of French
neutrality and made a formal complaint to Napoleon, whereupon the
following announcement appeared in the _Monitor_:

“On the twenty-sixth of July His Majesty, the Emperor of Mexico, issued
a decree entrusting the portfolio of war to General Osmont, Chief of
Staff of the Expedition Corps, and that of finance to Friant,
intendant-general of the army. As, however, the military duties of these
gentlemen, both holding important posts in an army still in the field,
are irreconcilable with the responsibilities of their new positions,
they have received no authorization to accept these appointments.”

This plainly shows France’s fear of the United States and her
indifference to her engagements with Maximilian. A new ministry,
therefore, had to be formed, in the selection of which Father Fischer’s
influence is said to have been largely responsible.

As the prospects for a restoration of the Republic grew brighter, Juarez
did not remain the only candidate for the presidential chair, a certain
Ortega and the former ex-President Santa Anna also appearing as
aspirants to the honor. The position of the imperial forces on the
border soon became so unsafe that Maximilian was forced to abandon those
districts to the revolutionists and withdraw his troops more into the
interior. Even his attempt to keep the way to the coast open was not
successful, for the city of Xalapa, on the road to Vera Cruz, was
besieged and captured by the rebels, thus cutting off communication
between the capital and the coast, while many of the native soldiers
deserted and went over to the enemy with their leaders. Even among the
revolutionists, however, there were dissensions, the greater part of
them supporting Juarez, others Ortega or Santa Anna. On one point only
were they united, the downfall of the Empire and restoration of the
Republic.

Another incident occurred at this time which was well calculated to make
Maximilian, already suffering from an intermittent fever, caused by the
climate, still more averse to remaining in Mexico. This was a conspiracy
against his life, discovered by one of the town prefects. The plot,
hatched by some of Santa Anna’s guerilla followers, was to include the
murder of the prefect himself by his secretary, a man from the lower
classes whom he had befriended, to be followed by that of several other
prominent personages. A closer investigation revealed that the Emperor’s
life also had been aimed at.

Such were the people by whom Maximilian was surrounded, and such the
treachery which he had constantly to deal with in his adopted country.

On the afternoon of the day on which the two fatal despatches arrived in
Mexico Maximilian was taking his usual stroll on the flat roof of the
palace with his physician, when he suddenly announced his intention of
abandoning the country where he had met with such ingratitude, and asked
his friend’s advice as to the matter.

“I do not see how it will be possible for Your Majesty to remain here,”
replied the doctor frankly.

“Will it be attributed to the Empress’ illness if I should leave?” he
then inquired.

“That certainly is reason enough,” returned the other. “Besides, Europe
must recognize that Your Majesty is no longer bound to remain in Mexico
after France’s violation of her contracts.”

“What do you suppose Herzfeld and Fischer will think of it?” continued
Maximilian, after a pause.

“I am sure that Herzfeld will share my views,” declared the physician.
“As to Father Fischer, to tell the truth, I have not much confidence in
his opinions.”

They then discussed the advisability of leaving at once or whether it
would be better to wait for a time, but as there seemed no good reason
at present for a sudden departure, Dr. Basch advised deferring it for a
week in order that suitable preparations might be made.

That evening Maximilian summoned his Minister of State and Professor
Bilimek, director of the museum, and laid the matter before them. To
both, the Emperor’s safety was of far more concern than the fate of a
half-civilized country whose indifference had caused the downfall of all
his hopes and schemes. The recent plot against the Emperor’s life also
may well have been an argument in favor of the plan. At all events they
heartily coincided with it and Herzfeld urged preparations for departure
with such energy that in three days’ time it was possible to leave
Chapultepec, a summer palace near the city of Mexico, which Maximilian
had had newly restored and fitted up at great cost and where he was
staying at this time.

The rumor of the Emperor’s proposed departure caused general
consternation. The new ministry was stunned and tried every means to
dissuade him from this step. But Maximilian remained deaf to all
arguments and, lest his resolution should be weakened, Dr. Basch had
orders to permit no one to enter the royal apartments. All who came were
dismissed with the information that His Majesty was ill and could
receive no visitors. Even the Princess Iturbide, aunt of little Prince
Iturbide, a descendant of August the First, the first Emperor of Mexico,
whom Maximilian, having no children of his own, had named as Crown
Prince, was unable to gain access to him. The physician admits he had
rather a violent scene with the high-spirited Princess. She would take
no denial and ended by roundly abusing those friends of the Emperor’s
who had persuaded him to leave Mexico.

As a last resort the ministry threatened to resign in a body if the plan
were persisted in, but even this was of no avail. Maximilian quietly
declared that if these gentlemen resigned their offices he would leave
the country at once, and he would certainly have kept his word. It is
greatly to be regretted, therefore, that they did not do so and thus
spare Mexico the everlasting stain of treachery and murder. Finding it
the only means of at least deferring the Emperor’s abdication, however,
they remained at their posts and sent a message to him agreeing to carry
on the business of government during his absence in accordance with his
wishes.

Maximilian had already received a letter from Bazaine approving the plan
of changing his residence to Orizaba, which was only a day’s journey
from the seaport of Vera Cruz, and promising to maintain law and order
in the capital. The Emperor’s abdication would suit his own plans very
well, by bringing him a step nearer to the realization of his secret
ambitions.

Thanks to Herzfeld’s energy and activity, all was ready at the appointed
time, and at four o’clock on the morning of the twenty-first of October,
the Emperor, escorted by a troop of three hundred hussars under the
command of Colonel Kodolitsch, set out from Chapultepec, little thinking
ever to see that place again. Councillor Herzfeld remained in the
capital to arrange some business matters, expecting to join the Emperor
later on.

The journey to Orizaba must not be passed over in silence, as it was
marked by the occurrence of an important event. On the afternoon of the
first day, the imperial party reached the Hacienda Socyapan, where they
were to spend the night. The Emperor seemed abstracted, and walked up
and down before the _hacienda_ in silence with his physician and
Professor Bilimek. At length he broke out suddenly:

“I cannot have any more bloodshed in this unhappy country on my account.
What am I to do?”

The professor advised him to abdicate and sail for Europe at once, but
Dr. Basch opposed this, representing that an unnecessarily sudden
departure would only precipitate matters and bring about exactly what
the Emperor wished to avoid, namely, more bloodshed in Mexico. At the
same time he urged a revocation of the decree of the third of October,
1865, a suggestion which Maximilian cordially approved, and in regard to
which he expressed himself in strong terms on this occasion.

Father Fischer and Colonel Kodolitsch, who were also in the Emperor’s
confidence, added their influence to the doctor’s, urging that a
_hacienda_ was not a suitable place from which to abdicate a throne, as
Maximilian himself was forced to acknowledge. He contented himself,
therefore, with issuing two orders. Father Fischer was to write personal
letters at once to Bazaine and to Minister Lares, ordering the repeal of
the law of the third of October and the cessation of all hostilities
until further notice. These two important despatches were entrusted to
Count Lamotte, an officer in the Austrian Hussars, to carry back to the
city of Mexico, and on the following morning the Emperor left the
_hacienda_ apparently much relieved. At noon of the second day, while
resting at Rio-Frio, he sent the following telegram to Captain Pierron:

“You, with Messieurs Pino, Trouchot, and Mangino, are hereby appointed a
commission which, under your direction and with the assistance of some
trustworthy official from the ministry of finance, will examine the
Civil List accounts, mine as well as that of the Empress, to prove
whether we owe the State or the State us. I desire from the commission a
detailed and authenticated statement in regard to this, in which shall
be included the sum taken by the Empress for her voyage to Europe, and
that received by my secretary on the Civil List account, together with
those employed by Minister Arroyo after the reduction of the Civil List,
in works on the palace and at Chapultepec.”

Herzfeld was also commissioned to issue, in the name of the Emperor, the
necessary written orders to the prefect and treasurer at Miramar.

“The Emperor wishes the utmost publicity to be given these matters,” so
Herzfeld was notified, “and holds you responsible therefor on your honor
and your friendship. Amid the political shipwreck he desires to keep his
name and honor untarnished and would rather suffer personal loss than
touch any part of the property of the Mexican nation.”

At the stations of Actzingo and Canada, Maximilian spent the night in
the house of the priests, a fact which furnished his enemies an
opportunity for accusing him of too close affiliation with the clergy.
His arrival was everywhere hailed with rejoicings, and he was
overwhelmed with expressions of sympathy for the illness of the Empress.
On the twenty-seventh of October the imperial party reached the city of
Orizaba, which they entered at five o’clock in the afternoon, greeted
with booming of cannon and the enthusiastic acclamations of the
populace.




                              Chapter XII
                         The Emperor at Orizaba


Herzfeld’s knowledge of the real state of affairs and anxiety for his
master’s safety soon caused him to lay aside all other considerations
and follow the Emperor to Orizaba, where he urged preparations for
departure with all possible despatch. In the midst of those, however, he
was ordered to Europe by Maximilian to prepare for his arrival there.
Thus this loyal friend was spared being a witness of the Emperor’s
tragic fate.

During his stay in Orizaba Maximilian led a simple, secluded life in his
palace, seeing only his intimate associates, but occupied with
arrangements for departure, and the settling of his private affairs.
Much to his satisfaction, his Civil List showed a balance in his favor
of $180,000. All his servants but two were paid and dismissed. Colonel
Kodolitsch was sent to Mexico to arrange with Bazaine concerning the
Austrian and Belgian volunteers, who had followed Maximilian to Mexico
and for whose future he felt it his duty to provide. One question much
discussed confidentially, and which Maximilian seemed quite unable to
decide, was as to whether the abdication should take place before his
departure or in Europe, where he had accepted the crown. His plans for
the future were already made. It was not his intention to return at once
to Austria, but to travel for two years, meeting the Empress at Corfu,
if her condition should permit. Meanwhile his own health had greatly
improved. With his two countrymen, Dr. Basch and Professor Bilimek, he
made frequent excursions about the neighborhood, enjoying the wonderful
scenery or searching for rare specimens of plants and insects. Suddenly,
however, events occurred which changed the aspect of affairs and
effectually put an end to the Emperor’s plans of travel.

Two old comrades-in-arms in the Mexican army, Generals Marquez and
Miramon, returned from Europe and, seeking an immediate audience with
the Emperor, urged him to return to the capital, holding out promises of
support and encouraging prospects for the imperial cause. While
Maximilian was hesitating, a letter arrived from Bazaine, which turned
the scale. In this the Marshal was so imprudent as to tell tales out of
school, betraying the fact that Napoleon III had made other plans for
Mexico without consulting Maximilian, who, as he had not yet abdicated,
was still sovereign of the country. This arbitrary conduct on the part
of his ally roused Maximilian to action. Indignant at the slight cast
upon him and anxious to prove that he was not slinking away at the
bidding of France like a disgraced servant, he was in a proper frame of
mind to respond to the appeal made by his conservative advisers, that it
was his duty to remain and not desert his party in the hour of danger.
Although outwardly preparations for departure continued as before, the
Emperor’s resolution was weakened, and toward the end of November he
summoned his council to Orizaba to consult with them as to the
advisability of his abdication, giving in an address to that body his
reasons for such a step, _viz._, the spread of the revolution with its
attendant evils, the hostility of the United States toward Mexico, and
the withdrawal of the support of France.

A vote was taken, twenty-three members of the council being present, of
whom two were for immediate abdication, ten of the opposite opinion,
while eleven were in favor of abdication, but held that the present was
not the time for such a step. Maximilian yielded to the majority and
agreed to remain on condition that funds should be raised for the proper
defence of the government and the organization of a permanent national
army, and that measures should be taken toward the settlement of
questions pending with France and the United States. The Mexicans,
proverbially lavish with promises, readily agreed to all these points,
and on the first of December the Emperor issued a manifesto to the
people, declaring that he had yielded to the desire of his council on
condition that a congress representing all parties should be summoned to
decide the existence of the Empire, and, if this were confirmed, he
would devote himself to the promotion of its welfare.

On the twelfth of December, 1866, Maximilian left Orizaba to return to
Mexico, accompanied by most of the members of the council who, in the
unsettled condition of the country, were glad to avail themselves of the
imperial escort, consisting as before of Colonel Kodolitsch’s hussars.
They consumed much time on the journey, lingering for nearly three weeks
at Puebla, Maximilian residing at first in the Xonaca palace, a short
distance outside the city. Here he held an interview with Castelnan, the
French consul, which appears to have been of a most unpleasant nature
and widened still further the breach between the two Emperors.
Scientific expeditions were also attempted by the three friends, as at
Orizaba, but, finding few specimens in the region about Puebla, these
excursions were soon abandoned and Maximilian moved his residence into
the city.

Arriving in Mexico on the fifth of January, 1867, Maximilian remained
for a time at the Hacienda de Teja, a quarter of an hour’s distance from
the capital. While there three of his former ministers, Ramirez,
Escudero, and Robles y Pezuela, made a final attempt to induce him to
abdicate and leave the country at once. But although evidently impressed
by their arguments he refused to follow their advice. The accusations of
vacillation and irresolution afterward made against Maximilian would
seem to be justified by his behavior at this time. Doubtful of himself
and of the future, he still clung to the hope of being able at least to
retire with honor, conscious of having fulfilled his duty to his
adherents. In relating to his physician the interview with his
ex-ministers, he declared that Ramirez wept at parting, expressing the
earnest wish that his evil forebodings might not be realized. He knew
but too well how deceptive were the promises of his countrymen.

“In no case,” continued the Emperor, “will I remain here more than a few
months, only until affairs are more settled. Will it injure my health,
do you think, to stay on in Mexico? Will the fever return?”

“I have no anxiety as to Your Majesty’s health on that score,” replied
the physician; “it is Your Majesty’s life I fear for.”

Maximilian’s attempts to convoke an assembly of liberal representatives
from all parties to discuss measures for remedying the existing
disorders in the country met with small success, as might have been
expected. It seemed impossible to obtain any sort of peaceful fusion or
coöperation, and there was nothing left for the Junta (congress) but to
declare war on the rebels in Mexico—war to the knife.




                              Chapter XIII
                        Departure of the French


Meanwhile the French were making active preparations for their return to
France. On the sixteenth of January, 1867, a letter arrived from
Napoleon Third, revoking the extraordinary powers granted to Bazaine as
commander-in-chief of the Expedition Corps and declaring the corps
itself disbanded. The embarkation of the first division of troops on the
_Empress Eugénie_ had then already begun. This was in accordance with
the secret articles already mentioned, and met with no objection on the
part of Maximilian. The recall of the foreign legion, however, included
in the order, was a direct violation of the Treaty of Miramar, which
guaranteed their remaining in the country for several years yet, if
needed.

In February the French marched out of the capital. Before leaving they
burned as many of the army effects as could not profitably be taken with
them. A large quantity of powder was poured into the water, and
projectiles were rendered useless by being filled with sand, so that the
Mexicans should not profit by their possession. It is hard to believe
that Bazaine’s personal feeling could have gone to such lengths, but
there seems no reason to doubt the truth of these statements. During the
Russian retreat before the French, in 1812, stores of all kinds were
destroyed to prevent their falling into the enemy’s hands. Maximilian
was not yet an enemy; on the contrary, he was supposed to be an ally,
yet for days huge columns of fire and smoke testified to the friendship
of the French.

Nor was this all. On the occasion of the Marshal’s marriage to his
Mexican wife, Maximilian had presented him with a palace, which in case
of his recall was to be redeemed by the government for 150,000 piastres
($100,000). Now that he was about to leave the country forever he
demanded the promised sum, though well aware of the state of Mexican
finances, and, finding it impossible to obtain the money from an empty
exchequer, sold enough French arms and ammunition to the revolutionists
at insignificant prices to make up the amount.

When Bazaine, some months before, had begun the reorganization of the
Mexican army which was to replace the French, he had ordered that all
commanders must be Frenchmen, other officers and privates either French
or Mexicans; pay, equipment, etc., to be the same as in the French army,
and those of his own troops who chose were to be free to remain in the
service of the Emperor. Yet in spite of this, before the departure of
the last of the troops in February, 1867, he issued an order declaring
that all French soldiers, officers or privates, who did not return to
their own banner immediately would be regarded as deserters and forfeit
all rights as citizens. Owing to the wide area of country involved and
the difficulty of communication it was, of course, impossible for this
order to reach all the French soldiers in Mexico—a fact which was taken
advantage of later by Juarez, for all the Frenchmen serving under
Maximilian, who were unfortunate enough to be taken prisoners, were shot
as deserters. Before leaving, however, the Marshal was kind enough to
send a message to Maximilian, offering to wait for him in case he should
decide to leave the country—an offer which, needless to say, was
declined.

With the French troops, thanks to Bazaine’s powers of persuasion, went
the greater part of the Austrian and Belgian volunteers, who had done
distinguished service under the command of Count Thun, only a few of the
Austrians remaining with their Prince. The first step now to be taken
was the formation of the new national army, a task already begun by
Bazaine. Maximilian divided it, roughly speaking, into three corps,
commanded respectively by Generals Miramon, Marquez, and Mejia. As these
three men are henceforth to play an important part in Mexican affairs, a
word concerning them may not be amiss.

Miramon had already enjoyed the honor of occupying the presidential
chair in Mexico, at which time Marquez had served under him. One
incident will suffice to illustrate the character of these two heroes.
After the capture of Tacubaya, in 1859, they made a visit to the
hospital where a corps of seven surgeons were caring for the wounded,
friend and foe alike. That very day Miramon issued an order to Marquez,
requiring all prisoners ranking from subalterns to staff-officers to be
shot under his personal supervision—a list of the same to be delivered
to himself that evening. And Leonardo Marquez, this worthy henchman,
carried out these instructions so faithfully that not only every
prisoner was shot before sunset, but also the surgeons of whom there had
been no mention in the order. Such were the ideas of justice that
animated these two commanders of the Mexican national army, yet Marquez,
in particular, seems to have completely succeeded in concealing his real
character from Maximilian, over whom he unfortunately had great
influence. In marked contrast to these was the Indian Mejia, who, though
still young and of unprepossessing appearance, was brave and honest, a
good soldier, and loyal to the end to his imperial master, whose death
indeed he shared.

Army corps, properly speaking, were out of the question, of course, in
the Mexican army, of which only the few remaining French troops and
foreign volunteers were trained soldiers. For the rest and for the
greater part it was composed of half-hearted Mexicans, impressed into
the service and ready to go over to the enemy at a moment’s notice
whenever it pleased them. Of the volunteers Colonel Kherenhüller had
succeeded in forming a regiment of hussars, and Baron Hammerstein, one
of infantry, while Count Wickenburg had an auxiliary force of
constabulary, and Colonel Masso the _cazadores_ or _chasseurs_, all of
whom did good service. That their blood was shed in vain, that they
never had the honor of fighting near the Emperor or defending him with
their lives, was not the fault of these brave Germans, but of the
traitorous villain Marquez.

Maximilian next divided the country into three great military districts.
Mejia was given command in the east, with headquarters at San Luis
Potosi, Miramon was stationed in the west at Querétaro, while Marquez,
controlling the central district, remained in the capital.

The Emperor was determined now to show that he could maintain his
position without the aid of French bayonets—a proof of confidence and
fearlessness which was hailed with acclamations by the imperialists, who
already foresaw the downfall of Juarez and the triumph of the Empire.
Before actual hostilities began, however, Maximilian made one more
effort to avert bloodshed and make peace with his enemies. But it was
all in vain. His overtures were coldly rejected and there was nothing
for it but to let fate take its course.

The first advance was made by Miramon, who succeeded in inflicting a
severe defeat upon the republicans, Juarez and his ministers only
escaping by the swiftness of their horses. But the exultation caused by
this news soon gave place to deepest dejection. Some days later,
Escobedo, commander of the revolutionist army in the north, surprised
the imperialists at San Jacinto and put them to rout, while Miramon,
with the remnants of his scattered forces, took refuge in Querétaro.




                              Chapter XIV
                         The Siege of Querétaro


On the tenth of February the Emperor told his physician to prepare for a
two weeks’ expedition to Querétaro. Prompted by the urgent
representations of his ministers, Lares and Marquez, that his presence
was needed there to counteract the demoralizing effect of Miramon’s
defeat, he determined to place himself at the head of the army. After
some delay, owing to the difficulty of obtaining funds for the campaign,
in spite of the ministry’s assurances as to the satisfactory condition
of the national finances, Maximilian set out upon this fateful journey
on the thirteenth of February, with a force of sixteen hundred Mexicans.

The matter had been arranged with so much secrecy that even Prince Salm
and Major Hammerstein had no suspicion of the plan, while the Austrian
hussars were dumbfounded when they found the Emperor starting for
Querétaro without them. Two men have been accused of persuading
Maximilian to this rash and fatal step—Father Fischer and the Prussian
ambassador, Baron Magnus. Dr. Basch, one of the few who were in the
secret, denies this, however, and places the blame entirely on the two
ministers, Lares and Marquez—the latter of whom had managed to win the
Emperor’s entire confidence by his eloquence and flattery. This seems
the more probable since it was to their interest to remove Maximilian to
a safe distance. Once already he had started for the coast. Why might he
not do so again and with the aid of his Austrians succeed in reaching it
and bidding adieu to the country forever? This must be prevented at all
cost. As for leaving these loyal troops behind and trusting himself to
the uncertain Mexicans, it must be remembered that Maximilian was
completely deceived as to the real state of affairs. From his order to
Dr. Basch it is evident he expected to return from Querétaro in a short
time. He wished also to give his Mexican subjects a proof of his
confidence in them, a noble and chivalrous idea, no doubt, but most
imprudent.

Marquez, on the other hand, was anxious to keep the Emperor under his
own influence and away from that of his German friends, whose advice
might seriously interfere with his plans. It was also important to leave
the capital in safe hands, and no one realized more than Marquez the
difference between the Austrian troops and his ragged Mexican soldiers,
many of them wearing a uniform for the first time.

It was doubtless for this reason that the plan was kept so secret. The
Emperor’s friends would surely have dissuaded him from taking such a
step or, at least, have insisted on accompanying him. Indeed, when
Kherenhüller and Hammerstein heard that he was about to leave for
Querétaro, they tried their best to induce him to take them with him. As
a last resort they even appealed to Father Fischer to use his influence
in their behalf, but all in vain. Having promised his friend, Marquez,
Maximilian felt he could not in honor retract his word.

Shortly before setting out he took leave of his Austrian officers,
assuring them that his reasons for taking this journey were purely
political ones, and promising that they should soon follow. Prince Salm
indeed did follow with a few trusted men, in spite of the Emperor’s
prohibition, overtaking the imperial party before they reached
Querétaro. Of the march thither Maximilian himself gives an interesting
account in a letter to Professor Bilimek who had returned to Miramar
some time before. In it he writes:

“As you will already have learned through the newspapers, our friends,
the French, have at last left Mexico, and, having once more obtained
liberty of action, we have exchanged the butterfly net for the sword.
Instead of bugs and beetles we now pursue other game. Bullets instead of
bees now buzz about our heads. Twice between Mexico and Querétaro we
were in action and had a number of our men killed and wounded. One of
the latter fell just in front of my horse and was immediately operated
on, under fire, by Dr. Basch, the only European who accompanied me. In
the second skirmish, where we were shot at like targets, our Hungarian
cook (you remember him?), who was riding behind us with our servant
Grill, was wounded on the lip. In every town where there were no
revolutionists we were welcomed most heartily by the people, whom we
found longing for peace and cursing the French.”

Maximilian reached Querétaro on the nineteenth and was received with the
enthusiasm to be expected from one of the strongest imperialist cities.
The streets were thronged with curious spectators who hailed the
Emperor’s appearance with shouts of joy, while from windows and
balconies, flags and gay hangings of all sorts waved a welcome. The
Spanish casino had been selected and prepared as a residence for the
Emperor, where he was received by the commandant of the city, General
Escobar, after which the whole party attended a solemn Te Deum at the
cathedral.

In the evening there were great festivities, concluding with a
magnificent banquet, at which there was no lack of those fine speeches
wherein the Mexicans especially excel. Maximilian took no part in these
celebrations, pleading fatigue as an excuse. Marquez, however, improved
the occasion rudely to impress upon General Miramon the sense of their
altered positions, he now being commander-in-chief and Miramon his
inferior, at the same time openly displaying his satisfaction over the
latter’s recent defeat. Truly a noble soul! Although white with rage,
Miramon controlled himself, replying briefly with a toast to the army.

For a time after his arrival in Querétaro, Maximilian found the life
very pleasant. His simple, kindly ways soon won the hearts of the
people, with whom he mingled freely and fearlessly, joining in their
amusements and conversing familiarly with all classes. His coolness
under fire also roused the admiration of his soldiers, who cheered
wildly as he rode calmly past their ranks, the enemy’s bullets whistling
about his head.

In the capital, meanwhile, there was so little thought given to the
Emperor and his companions in Querétaro, and there was so little idea of
keeping any of the promises made to him, it would almost seem that
Marquez was not the only traitor. Soon after leaving Mexico, Maximilian
had sent back word for the Austrian troops remaining there to follow him
at once. Had this order been delivered, the expedition to Querétaro
might have had a different and less tragic ending. But, owing to
Marquez, it never reached its destination, and the Emperor’s loyal
friends, Kherenhüller and Hammerstein, were prevented from joining him
while there was still time.

The city of Querétaro had at this time a population of some forty
thousand inhabitants. It lay in a narrow valley on the southern bank of
a small stream, called the Rio Blanco, forming a quadrangle of about
eight thousand feet in length by four thousand in breadth. To the west
extended a wide plain, called from the mountains behind it the plain of
Guadalajara, while running from south to northeast was a range of hills,
afterward utilized by the republicans with great effect. Two places
which proved of special importance to the imperialists during the siege
were the Cerro de la Campaña, a hill lying just west of the city, and
the Convent de la Cruz, almost at the opposite end. This was a large
stone edifice of great strength, dating from the days of Cortez. The
convent grounds were enclosed by heavy stone walls, and had at the
eastern end a smaller but equally strong building known as the Pantheon
or burial-place of the convent.

Two weeks after the Emperor’s arrival (March fifth), the republican
forces, under General Escobedo, appeared before Querétaro and began to
invest the town. The garrison consisted of about four thousand infantry,
three thousand cavalry, and had forty-four cannon—a force so
insignificant, compared with the vast armies of the present day, that it
is remarkable it should have held out as long as it did against such
overwhelming superiority of numbers. General Mejia had arrived at
Querétaro shortly before this, with his troops from Potosi, among whom
were a number of German officers and soldiers, while serving under
Miramon were some six hundred Frenchmen. Immediately after the
appearance of the enemy, Maximilian held a council of war with his
generals. Miramon and Mejia were in favor of attacking the republicans
before their forces should have time to unite—an excellent plan which
was not carried out owing to the opposition of the all-influential
Marquez, who held that the defence of the city should be their first
consideration. Thus precious time was allowed to pass, and the
imperialists looked calmly on while the enemy gradually crowned the
surrounding heights with batteries. The Emperor had first established
his headquarters on the Cerro de la Campaña, but when the republicans
extended their lines eastward, they were moved to the Convent de la Cruz
(so called from a cross erected there in commemoration of the conquest).
General Miramon now occupied the former headquarters with a battery of
eight guns, while the chief defence of the town was entrusted to the
Mexican Castillo, an able general, but no longer young and almost
entirely deaf.

The enemy’s next move was to cut off the city’s supplies, both of water
and provisions, hoping to subdue it by starvation. The only water now
obtainable was that of the Rio Blanco, while meat soon grew so scarce
that many of the cavalry horses had to be sacrificed. Juarez himself
joined the republican camp for a time, but, being unable to endure the
smell of powder, soon returned to Potosi. On the fourteenth of March the
Juarists made their first general attack on the town, assaults being
made on three sides at once, under cover of the batteries. The main
struggle, however, took place at La Cruz. After a hot fight they
succeeded in capturing the Pantheon, but were afterward driven out by a
body of Austrians. During the attack Maximilian remained in the great
square before the convent, exposed to the hottest fire, yet quite calm
and apparently unconscious of the deadly hail of bullets all about him.
Once a shell burst only a few paces in front of him, but fortunately no
one was injured, though an adjutant had his sword bent and his clothes
burned by a flying splinter. Prince Salm, always conspicuous for
bravery, made a brilliant sortie and succeeded in capturing the first
guns from the enemy.

By evening the Juarists had been repulsed at all points and driven back,
but the victory proved barren in results. Lopez, for some reason, took
no part in the action, while Marquez either would not or did not know
how to follow up the advantage he had gained. As for Miramon, he
distinguished himself a few days later. It had been planned to surprise
the Juarists early on the morning of the sixteenth, and Miramon was
chosen to lead the attack, from which great things were hoped. But the
whole scheme fell through because—that general overslept!—a neglect of
duty difficult to understand in these days. When he did at last awake it
was broad daylight, and all thought of a surprise had to be abandoned.

On the twenty-first of March another council was held and an important
decision arrived at. This was to send one of the generals back to the
city of Mexico with full authority from the Emperor to act as he thought
best. He was to dismiss the present ministry and form a new one, to
obtain more funds, and, in any case, to return with aid to Querétaro
without delay. Marquez, for whom the place was getting much too warm by
this time, had no difficulty in obtaining the appointment—a simple means
of escaping the trap into which he had led his sovereign. Still trusting
the traitor implicitly, Maximilian left it entirely to him whether to
bring only a part of the troops from Mexico or the whole garrison. It
was arranged that Marquez, with one thousand horsemen, was to make his
way through the hills to the south, while Miramon, to divert the enemy’s
attention, made a sortie in the opposite direction. The plan was kept so
secret that even Miramon had no suspicion of the real purpose of his
expedition. This time he did not oversleep but successfully surprised
the enemy at four in the morning, returning with twenty-two carts full
of provisions and war material, sixty oxen, and some two hundred sheep
and goats. Meanwhile Marquez and his troopers had passed through the
enemy’s lines unnoticed, leaving the imperialists the poorer by one
thousand of their best men—no small loss to a garrison already so
reduced.

The Juarists, now swelled by reinforcements to about forty thousand men,
continued to harass the city by daily attacks from without, while their
spies kept them accurately informed of all that passed within. The
Emperor, unconscious of the treachery by which he was surrounded, still
looked confidently for relief from Marquez. Days passed in
ever-increasing suspense, while the situation of the besieged grew more
and more critical. Marquez’ enemies began openly to hint at treachery,
and at length even Maximilian lost faith. Now that it was too late his
eyes were opened to the real nature of his “friend,” and, realizing that
he had been betrayed, he determined to send Prince Salm on another
mission to the capital—to arrest Marquez, if necessary, and return at
once with reinforcements. An attempt was accordingly made on the
twenty-second of April to break through the enemy’s lines, but the city
was by this time so closely invested that it was found to be useless.
Meanwhile the republicans, fearing that the Emperor with his whole force
might succeed in escaping from the city, caused reports of Marquez’
approach to be circulated by their spies, while false despatches,
purporting to arrive from the capital, were smuggled through the lines
in order to soothe the imperialists with vain hopes.

But what of Marquez while all Querétaro watched so anxiously for his
return? Where was he and what was he doing? He had arrived safely at the
capital on the twenty-seventh of March with few losses, and, finding the
city of Puebla hard pressed by the Juarist, Porfirio Diaz, determined to
go to its relief. Though well aware of the urgency of the situation in
Querétaro, and the need of haste in executing his mission, he seems to
have troubled himself little concerning it, and to have taken no steps
toward sending the promised aid. The relief of Puebla he did indeed
undertake, but here as in Querétaro he made so many blunders that the
attempt ended in utter failure and involved the needless sacrifice of
many of Maximilian’s brave Austrians.




                               Chapter XV
                     Downfall of the Mexican Empire


Meanwhile the situation in Querétaro remained about the same from week
to week. Thanks to the reports spread by republican spies, relief was
still looked for, while frequent skirmishes enlivened the monotony in
which both Miramon and Mejia distinguished themselves. Nor were they
altogether without results, for on the twenty-seventh of April Miramon
routed twelve thousand of the besiegers, captured twenty-one guns, and
took a large number of prisoners. Yet neither of these generals seemed
able to utilize their advantages. Whenever a victory was won, precious
moments were wasted in useless celebrations, in true Mexican fashion,
leaving the enemy plenty of time to recover lost ground.

At length, however, the Emperor was forced to abandon all hope of
Marquez’ return and as a last resort began seriously to consider the
possibility of breaking through the enemy’s siege lines to the western
plain whence they might be able to reach the mountains beyond. Once
there they would be safe—for these were the native haunts of General
Mejia, who knew every foot of the country and was certain to find
support among the sturdy mountaineers—always a loyal race. Thither, too,
the Juarists would be slow to follow. Being unwilling to leave the city
without any military protection, Maximilian’s first step was to issue a
call for volunteers, to which hundreds of the townsfolk responded and
were enrolled as recruits by Mejia, to whom their organization was
entrusted. Meanwhile Prince Salm selected a body-guard of picked men for
the Emperor. The attempt was to be made early on the morning of the
fourteenth of May,—the chief command of the expedition being intrusted
to Colonel Lopez, a proof of Maximilian’s unbounded faith in this
scoundrel. As to the sequence of events, Dr. Basch, who was an
eye-witness, writes as follows:

“At eleven o’clock on the night of the thirteenth, a council of war was
held at which it was decided to defer our departure till the following
night. This was at Mejia’s request, the number of volunteers being so
great he had been unable properly to arm or organize them in so short a
time, and it was upon their help he largely depended for the success of
the undertaking. Preparations had all been completed. We were ready for
the march. Only such effects as could be carried with us on our horses
were to be taken. The Emperor himself was very hopeful. ‘I am glad,’ he
said to me on the afternoon of the fourteenth, ‘that the end has come at
last and feel sure we shall succeed, partly because my good fortune has
never yet failed me and also—call it superstition if you will—because
to-morrow is my mother’s name day—which is a good omen.’

“The Emperor’s luggage was divided among the escort—members of his suite
each taking a part of his papers among their effects. The contents of
His Majesty’s privy purse were distributed between Salm,
Lieutenant-colonel Pradillo, the Emperor’s secretary, Blasio, Colonel
Campos, commander of the body-guard, myself, and Lopez, the latter of
whom expressed dissatisfaction on being handed his share because it was
in silver and small coin instead of gold like the rest.

“At ten o’clock that night another postponement was made till the
fifteenth, this time at the request of General Mendez, for what reason I
am unable to say. About eleven the Emperor held a conference with Lopez
concerning some details of the plan, and, made wakeful by excitement,
did not retire until one. At half-past two he had me wakened. I went at
once to his room and found him suffering with an attack of dysentery—a
disease which had been making havoc in both camps owing to bad food and
the effects of the rainy season. I stayed with him nearly an hour till
the pain was relieved, then returned to my own room and lay down with my
clothes on. The convent was then wrapped in deep stillness; not a sound
was to be heard. Just before five I was suddenly aroused by two men
bursting into my room, one of whom I recognized as Lieutenant Jablonski.
‘Where is Prince Salm?’ they shouted, ‘he must be awakened!’ and with
these words they rushed out again. I sprang up at once. Something
unusual must have occurred to bring them to headquarters at that hour.
Without stopping to think about it, however, I roused my servant, who
was sleeping in the same room, ordered him to saddle my horse as quickly
as possible, and hastened in quest of Salm, whom I found already up and
dressed. I asked him what was the matter. ‘We are surprised,’ was his
answer. ‘Make haste and tell Fürstenwärther to have the hussars mount
without delay.’

“I had just delivered this message when the Emperor’s Mexican
chamberlain, Severo, came and informed me that His Majesty wished to
speak with me. Returning to his room, I found him already dressed. ‘I do
not think it is anything serious,’ he declared with the utmost calmness,
‘but the enemy have forced their way into the courtyard. Get your pistol
and follow me to the square.’

“Grill, the steward, afterward told me during our imprisonment that the
Emperor did not lose his presence of mind for a moment. While he was
dressing he had his sword placed by the door unsheathed, to be at hand
in case of need. In obedience to His Majesty’s command I went to my room
to buckle on my revolver and there my servant met me with the news that
he had been stopped by a strange officer who had taken the saddle
blankets from him. Having myself given the order for the hussars to
mount, it was necessary for me to have my horse at once if I was to
accompany the Emperor, so I told my servant to follow me and point out
the officer who had prevented his obeying my orders. We met him in one
of the passageways, wrapped in one of the blankets and carrying the
other on his shoulder. As the Emperor had only spoken of the enemy as
having entered the courtyard, I naturally supposed, meeting this man
inside the convent, that he and the ten soldiers with him were our men
and asked if he did not recognize me as the Emperor’s physician. He
tried to evade me, pointing to a staircase leading to the roof of the
convent, and saying, ‘Your blankets are up there.’

“Still in the dark as to the meaning of all this, and indignant at the
unnecessary delay, I drew my revolver, whereupon the officer cried to
the soldiers, ‘_Desarme lo!_’ (Disarm him!) I saw a row of bayonets
pointed at me and heard the click of triggers and in a flash the whole
thing was clear to me. Any attempt at resistance would have been
madness, so, escorted by the officer and his squad, I mounted the steps
to the convent roof, which to my amazement I found crowded with
republican troops. ‘You are my prisoner!’ said the officer, now speaking
for the first time. ‘So I see!’ was my angry rejoinder. My revolver was
then taken away from me, and Perez, for such was the officer’s name,
began to search my pockets with a dexterity that proved him no novice in
the business. Naturally the well-filled money belt did not escape his
deft fingers, nor my watch which I had with me, and this unexpected
booty caused him to treat me with more favor. In spite of the danger of
the situation, I could not refrain from drawing out my surgical case,
which had been overlooked, and, offering it to Perez, inquiring whether
he would not like that also. This voluntary gift, however, he did not
accept nor did he take my note-book. There being no bank notes in
Mexico, paper naturally did not interest him as much as coin or
valuables, and my papers were left undisturbed in my pocket. I was then
taken to the tower where the Emperor had so often exposed himself to the
enemy’s fire, and placed under the guard of two men.”

So much for the physician’s experiences on that eventful night.
Meanwhile, after telling Dr. Basch to get his pistol and follow him,
Maximilian, accompanied by Prince Salm, General Castillo,
Lieutenant-colonel Pradillo, and Secretary Blasio, went out into the
courtyard. At the gates they found one of the enemy’s guards stationed,
and standing near by were Colonel Lopez and Colonel José Rincon
Gallardo. The latter, to whom the Emperor was well known, said to the
guard: “Let them pass, they are civilians,” and Maximilian and his
companions walked out unmolested. From La Cruz they made their way to
Miramon’s headquarters on the Cerro de la Campaña, several other
officers joining them on the way. The lines everywhere were already in
the possession of the enemy and even the small body of cavalry they
found assembled at the foot of the hill soon melted away, going over to
the enemy little by little as their fears overcame them. Turning to
Mejia, the Emperor asked if there was no possibility of breaking through
with a few faithful followers, but Mejia sadly replied in the negative,
saying any such attempt would be useless. Resigning himself to his fate,
therefore, Maximilian ordered the white flag hoisted and a few moments
later surrendered his sword to a republican officer who galloped up. The
Emperor was a prisoner.

That afternoon at four o’clock Escobedo sent the following telegram to
the Juarist minister of war in Potosi:

“At three o’clock this morning our troops captured the convent La Cruz.
The garrison were taken prisoners, part of the enemy’s troops having
retreated to Cerro de la Campaña in great disorder and under fire from
our artillery. About eight this morning Maximilian with his generals
Mejia and Castillo surrendered at discretion. I beg to offer the
President my congratulations on this great triumph of the national arms.

                                                      Mariano Escobedo.”

A mighty triumph, indeed, for fifty thousand men to conquer a garrison
of five thousand, exhausted by famine and disease, and that only by an
act of treachery!

As to the manner and conditions of Lopez’ betrayal, accounts vary. He is
said to have been promised as much as ten thousand piastres by Escobedo.
His accomplice in the plot was a certain Anton Jablonski, but the whole
affair was managed with such adroitness that not one of the Emperor’s
friends had a suspicion of it. Lopez afterward published an emphatic
denial of the accusation, which was supported by Escobedo and in which
he had the audacity to appeal to Prince Salm for confirmation. The
latter’s reply, written during his imprisonment and after Maximilian’s
death, leaves nothing to be desired in the way of plain speaking. It
runs in part as follows:

“To Miguel Lopez, former imperial Mexican colonel and author of the
article entitled ‘The Capture of Querétaro’:

“In this defence, addressed by you to your countrymen, to France, and to
the world at large, you appeal to me as witness that Querétaro did not
fall by treachery and maintain that your statements bear the stamp of
perfect truth. Although I, as you know, have been a prisoner of war for
five months, my sense of justice will no longer allow me to be silent,
for I can prove their utter falsity. You publicly declare that Querétaro
was captured by force of arms; that the Emperor commissioned you on the
night of the fourteenth of May to negotiate with the enemy, his troops
being completely demoralized and all hope of escape abandoned; and you
dare any who maintain that Querétaro fell by treachery to appear and
dispute your assertions. I accept your challenge, therefore, and before
the world proclaim you a traitor with the blood of your former sovereign
and benefactor on your hands. It is not true that the Emperor
commissioned you to negotiate with the enemy. I had the honor of
conversing with His Majesty that night, after you had left him, and he
had not then or at any other time the faintest idea of treating with the
republicans. If his army was small, it was still brave and loyal enough
to have fought a way out through the enemy’s lines for its beloved
sovereign, to whose character, as you well know, such a course as you
describe would have been utterly foreign. This being the case, permit
me, Senor Lopez, to ask you a few questions before the world.

“Why, if you had been ordered to enter the enemy’s lines, did you return
about two o’clock with a republican officer of high rank and bring him
into La Cruz, the Emperor’s headquarters? Why did you, contrary to the
Emperor’s wishes, and without my knowledge, order the Hungarian hussars
to unsaddle, when I had already given them the Emperor’s commands to
remain saddled all night? Why, at such a dangerous time, did you remove
from the Emperor’s headquarters the guard upon whom the safety of La
Cruz depended? Why were the eight guns which stood on the square in
front of the convent turned with their muzzles toward the city? Why, at
two o’clock in the morning, did you take this republican general,
dressed as a civilian and armed with a revolver, all through our
fortifications? Why did you leave our lines before four o’clock that
morning, still with this same officer, and return in a quarter of an
hour at the head of two of the enemy’s battalions and lead them into the
inner court of La Cruz, where you were met by your accomplice,
Lieutenant Jablonski? How did it happen that you and Jablonski, both
supposedly prisoners, should have informed the Emperor of the enemy’s
presence in La Cruz? How do you explain the fact that when His Majesty,
with General Castillo and myself, were about to leave the convent, then
already surrounded by the enemy, we were allowed at a word from you to
pass as civilians, although the Emperor must have been already
recognized and General Castillo and I were in full uniform? How was it
that after our capture some of the republican officers named you as the
traitor? How did it happen that you, a prisoner, were always at liberty?
And, finally, how were you able to possess yourself of the imperial
papers and various articles belonging to His Majesty, such as his silver
toilet service, which, by the way, have never appeared again?

“To all of this, Señor Miguel Lopez, you cannot honestly and honorably
reply; the facts speak for themselves and proclaim you both traitor and
murderer. Why did you betray your Emperor and benefactor? Because, in
the first place, you wished to be revenged on him for withholding from
you the General’s commission which he had already signed. In case you
should not know his reason for this, then learn now that it was because
a brave man, whose blood is also on your hands and whose name I will not
mention, lest you take revenge on those he has left behind, had
presented to His Majesty a private document dismissing you from the army
for infamous conduct during Santa Anna’s presidency and forbidding your
ever holding a government office again.

“And, secondly, Señor Lopez, you were moved by fear. Seeing that
something decisive must soon occur and fearing, in case of our defeat,
for your future and for your life, you hoped by this shameful treachery
to clear your past account with the republicans, as indeed you did. Your
third attempt at treason failed, for a short time after the Emperor had
been made prisoner, finding your hopes disappointed, you sent a person
known to us both to him with offers to betray your new confederates. In
my presence this person attempted to pave the way for you to approach
the Emperor, overtures that were naturally rejected with contempt. A man
may choose his own course in life, but he must be true to his
principles. You have not only been false to yours but have also
committed the most infamous of all crimes—that of treason—and broken the
oath you took to the imperial cause. The name of Miguel Lopez may become
famous, no doubt, but it will never be mentioned in the annals of Mexico
or of the world save with deepest abhorrence and contempt.”




                              Chapter XVI
                       The Emperor’s Imprisonment


After Maximilian had surrendered his sword to the republican commander
on the Cerro de la Campaña he was taken back to his old quarters at the
convent, his physician and two attendants, Grill and Severo, being
allowed to join him later.

“It was with a heavy heart,” writes Dr. Basch, “that I approached the
Emperor’s door, before which a guard was posted. I opened it and paused
a moment on the threshold to compose myself, but His Majesty came up at
once and embraced me, weeping. Quickly controlling himself, however, he
pressed my hand and turned away, sighing deeply. A mournful silence
followed. Now for the first time I perceived that Salm, Blasio, Pachta,
and Pradillo were also in the room. For a time the Emperor paced up and
down, lost in thought, but at last he spoke, this time more calmly.

“‘I am glad,’ he said, ‘that it all happened without more bloodshed.
That much at least has been accomplished. I feared for you all.’

“Although he had been so ill the night before, excitement had sustained
him during the events that had since occurred. Now, however, the attack
returned and he was forced to go to bed suffering greatly. Having, in
our present situation, no remedies at hand to relieve his distress, I
was greatly surprised when the Emperor produced a small box of pills
which I had given him the night before. ‘You see,’ he declared, ‘how
important it is not to lose one’s presence of mind. This morning when we
were surprised I remembered to put this in my pocket.’”

Maximilian’s room had been completely rifled during his absence.
Personal effects, books, clothing, and documents all had disappeared,
having been appropriated by Lopez as souvenirs of his former benefactor.
During the forenoon the Emperor was visited by several of the republican
officers, among whom was Colonel José Gallardo, who had permitted him to
leave La Cruz the preceding night—a mistaken kindness, as it proved, for
Maximilian, in consequence, had been arrested in arms and thereby made
himself liable to that fatal decree of October third, which he had tried
to revoke on his way to Orizaba.

Most of the imperial generals who had remained loyal were confined in a
room adjoining the Emperor’s. Mendez remained in hiding, but, his plan
of concealment being betrayed a few days later, he was taken out and
shot. Miramon had been shot in the face with a revolver by one of his
own adjutants while attempting to rally his troops on the Cerro, the
morning of the surrender, and was at his own quarters. The prisoners
were treated with scant consideration. A rich merchant of the town
supplied Maximilian’s table, with the remains from which his companions
were obliged to content themselves. The Emperor soon grew so much worse
that his physician became alarmed and asked that one of the republican
army surgeons might be called in. Dr. Riva de Nejra was sent to visit
the august prisoner and advised a change of residence, declaring the
present one most unfit in his condition of health.

On the morning of the seventeenth, therefore, Maximilian was taken to
the former convent, Santa Teresa, in a carriage, guarded by a troop of
cavalry, his companions being forced to walk. As they passed through the
city, the streets were deserted, the inhabitants considerately retiring
into their houses, the windows of which even were closed. Not a soul was
to be seen anywhere. The new quarters of the prisoners consisted of two
large rooms, absolutely bare and empty. After some trouble a bed and
chairs were procured for the Emperor’s use, while the others were left
to make themselves comfortable on the floor of the adjoining apartment.
Fortunately they managed to obtain some saddle blankets to sleep on and
the Emperor sent out and bought coverings, combs, brushes, and soap.

“These republicans,” says Dr. Basch, “seem convinced they are treating
us with the greatest care and magnanimity, their idea of humanity being
apparently to permit us to breathe. Unless we can wait on ourselves we
must go hungry and dirty.”

In spite of these hardships, however, the change made a perceptible
improvement in Maximilian’s health, and his painful symptoms gradually
disappeared. Juarez’ delay in taking any action in regard to the fate of
the prisoners encouraged the Emperor’s friends to expect a favorable
outcome of the affair—a hope that was rudely dispelled, however, when
the Princess Salm arrived at Querétaro on the twentieth of May and
revealed to her husband the danger in which Maximilian really stood. It
was apparent even to the republicans that Juarez was determined to have
his life. The Princess made the most heroic efforts to save him,
shrinking from no dangers and no exertion in his behalf, but all in
vain. The Emperor’s guard was not always strictly kept, and had not
treachery lurked at every turn, his escape might have been effected.
Such an attempt was finally made, indeed, but it was then too late.

On the twenty-second of May Maximilian was again transferred, this time
to the Capuchin monastery, with Prince Salm and Generals Mejia and
Miramon. The other officers, Dr. Basch, and the Emperor’s servants were
left behind, expecting to follow shortly. As hour after hour passed,
however, and no one came, feeling that anything was possible in this
barbarous country, they were seized with the fear that Maximilian and
his companions might have been already shot without any warning. At
last, however, an officer appeared, about eight o’clock in the evening,
with the long-looked-for orders.

“The first person I saw in the monastery,” relates Dr. Basch, “was Salm.
‘Where is the Emperor?’ I asked.

“‘His Majesty is in the crypt,’ he replied, but quickly added, seeing my
horror at these words, ‘Calm yourself, he is alive, but really in the
crypt. I will take you to him.’

“As the door was opened a rush of cold air greeted me, rank with
dampness and decay. In the far corner of a huge vault, the burial-place
of the monastery, was a bed, and on it lay the Emperor reading Cæsar. A
small table beside him held a lighted candle. ‘They have not had time to
prepare a room for me,’ he remarked, smiling quietly, ‘so I am obliged
temporarily to take up my abode with the dead.’ I spent that night in
the crypt alone with the Emperor, making my bed on a large slab
apparently used as a bier, but after the hours of anxiety I had endured
that afternoon, I had no trouble in sleeping even amid those
surroundings.”

Bitter as Juarez was against Maximilian, he was not in Querétaro at this
time, but at Potosi, and therefore cannot be held responsible for the
atrocious treatment accorded the unfortunate Emperor, whose calm and
cheerful acceptance of these indignities cannot but rouse the deepest
admiration.

The next day he was taken from the crypt and lodged in a dark narrow
cell, similar to those assigned his companions in misfortune, all
opening on a small court so that the prisoners could be easily guarded.
It soon became evident that there was no hope of any compromise in the
Emperor’s case. Juarez insisted that it should be decided by a Mexican
court-martial—the outcome of which was a foregone conclusion.
Maximilian’s death had already been determined upon and any trial would
be merely a pretext to throw dust in the eyes of the world.

Princess Salm, with the aid of a German merchant, named Stephen, and the
vice-consul from Hamburg, made another attempt at rescue, which might
have proved successful had not Maximilian refused to go without Miramon
and Mejia, who were to be tried with him. Miramon appears to have
revealed the plan to his wife, who, in turn, betrayed it to the enemy,
so it resulted in only stricter measures. All the prisoners were removed
from the Capuchin monastery with the exception of Maximilian and his two
generals, over whom a much stronger guard was placed.

On the twelfth of June, 1867, General Escobedo issued an order
arraigning Ferdinand Maximilian, Archduke of Austria, and his
confederates, the “so-called” generals, Don Miguel Miramon and Don Tomas
Mejia, before a court-martial to answer for crimes against the nation
and against law and order. The charges against Maximilian were thirteen
in number, an absurd and incongruous medley, the chief of which were
that he had broken his personal guarantees; that he had served as an
instrument of the French; and that he had assumed the position of a
usurper and authorized atrocities of every description, such as the
decree of October 3, 1865.

The trial opened at eight o’clock on the morning of June thirteenth in
the Iturbide theatre, the interior of which was brilliantly illuminated,
the galleries filled with spectators, all of whom displayed the deepest
interest in the proceedings. At the right sat the judges, consisting of
a lieutenant-colonel and six captains, all very young and selected with
little or no regard for the important questions involved. Opposite them
were placed the benches for the accused and their advocates, Generals
Mejia and Miramon arriving at the theatre about nine in a carriage under
a strong guard.

The president opened the session, and the attorney for the government,
Manuel Aspiroz, read the charges, together with the Emperor’s protest
against this form of trial and the legality of all steps taken against
his person under the law of January 25, 1862, which was intended for
native rebels and not applicable to him as a foreigner. Lastly, medical
evidence in regard to the Emperor’s condition of health was produced,
with a petition for more healthful accommodations.

General Mejia was first summoned to answer before this tribunal, and his
advocate, Vega, made a brilliant speech in his defence, dwelling on his
bravery and loyalty as well as the distinguished services he had
rendered to his native land. Miramon’s attorneys, Jauregui and Moreno,
employed the same line of argument.

Maximilian did not appear in person before the court. He was defended by
two of the foremost lawyers in Mexico, Vazquez and Ortega, both
distinguished for learning and eloquence. They directed their main
arguments against the competency of such a court for the case.
Maximilian was not a usurper, as charged, declared Vazquez, for he had
come by invitation of a representative council, confirmed by popular
vote. He had refused, in fact, to accept the crown until such vote had
been assured. Whether this had been given fraudulently, he, as a
foreigner on the other side of the ocean, had no means of discovering,
nor had he any reason to regard himself as other than a legitimate
sovereign—the ovation accorded him on his arrival naturally tending to
strengthen him in this conviction. He had brought no troops but came
peaceably, accompanied only by his household. Neither had he served as a
tool for the French, for from the very first he had striven against
their interference; the constant friction between him and the French
commanders having finally led to the withdrawal of the French troops.

Ortega protested vigorously against the imputation of Maximilian’s
cruelty. The severe decree of October 3, 1865, was issued on the advice
of his ministry and in the belief that Juarez had abandoned Mexican
territory. Its object had been chiefly to intimidate, for no man ever
sued in vain for mercy from Maximilian, whose clemency and magnanimity
were well known. He concluded with an appeal to the honor and sympathy
of the republicans, urging them not to abuse their victory and stain
their laurels with a bloody and useless execution.

But his defenders’ brilliant eloquence was powerless to save Maximilian.
His sentence had been fixed long since. The whole trial was the merest
farce, a spectacle prepared by Juarez and his friends. It was most
fitting that a theatre should have been chosen for its performance!

The public session of the court ended on the fourteenth of June. At
eleven o’clock that night the Emperor Maximilian and his two generals
were unanimously pronounced guilty and condemned to be shot, Escobedo
confirming the sentence on the sixteenth and ordering the execution to
take place that afternoon at three o’clock.

Mexico was now completely in the hands of the Juarists, with the
exception of Vera Cruz and the capital, where Marquez was playing a
singular game and needlessly sacrificing the Emperor’s brave Austrians.
With the downfall of the imperial cause, however, this scoundrel passes
out of our history. Once, during his imprisonment, Maximilian said to
his physician: “If both Marquez and Lopez were given to me to deal with
as I chose, I would free the coward Lopez, but Marquez, the cold-blooded
and deliberate traitor, I would hang.”




                              Chapter XVII
                  Death of Maximilian and his Generals


The news that the Emperor and his two generals, Mejia and Miramon, had
been sentenced to death, aroused widespread sympathy and Juarez was
besieged with petitions for mercy, even Garibaldi, who certainly was no
friend to the house of Hapsburg, being among the pleaders. The Prussian
ambassador, Baron von Magnus, hastened to Potosi to intercede personally
in behalf of Maximilian, and used every effort to secure a pardon, but
in vain. All that he was able to obtain was a reprieve of two days, the
execution of the sentence being postponed till seven o’clock on the
morning of the nineteenth.

          [Illustration: _LAST MOMENTS OF EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN_]

Prince Salm being still a prisoner and powerless to act, his wife made
one last desperate attempt to bring about the Emperor’s escape by
flight, but again the plan was frustrated by the fatal treachery that
seemed to pursue Maximilian at every turn in Mexico. The Princess Salm
was put into a carriage and sent out of Querétaro under a military
guard, while all the diplomatic representatives were ordered by Escobedo
to leave the city at two hours’ notice. Meanwhile the Emperor and his
companions prepared for death. They received the sacrament from Father
Soria and spent their last hours communing with the confessors who were
to accompany them on their last journey. Maximilian, calm and serene as
in happier days, conversed cheerfully with Dr. Basch and his lawyers,
Ortega and Vazquez, who had come to bid him farewell. On parting with
the physician he charged him to carry back to his friends and family in
Vienna a report of the siege and of his last days.

“Tell my mother,” he said, “that I have done my duty as a soldier and
die a good Christian.”

At three o’clock, the time originally set for the execution, all was
ready for the last march to the Cerro de la Campaña. The officer in
command of the firing squad begged for forgiveness with tears in his
eyes, but the Emperor calmed him, saying: “You are a soldier and must
obey your orders.” For a whole hour they waited for the summons, but
none came. At last, about four o’clock, an officer arrived with the
announcement that the execution had been postponed till the nineteenth,
the order having only just arrived by wire from Potosi an hour before.

“This is hard,” exclaimed Maximilian, “for I had already finished with
the world.”

He availed himself of the delay, however, to dictate several farewell
letters to his physician, among them one of thanks to his captive
officers for their loyalty and a touching appeal to his implacable
enemy, Juarez, to prevent further bloodshed and let his death serve to
promote the peace and welfare of his adopted country. Even now Baron von
Magnus made one more effort to save the Emperor’s life. On the
eighteenth of June he sent a telegram to the Juarist minister, Lerdo de
Tejada, offering to secure guarantees from all the leading sovereigns of
Europe that none of the three prisoners should ever again set foot on
Mexican soil or disturb the country in any way. But Juarez was
inexorable. In reply to the Baron’s despatch Minister Tejada stated that
the President of the Republic was convinced that the cause of justice
and the future peace of the country required the death of the prisoners.

At last the fatal morning of Wednesday, June 19, 1867, dawned. At five
o’clock Father Soria came to celebrate mass, and at half past six the
republican officer who had charge of the execution arrived. The three
prisoners, dressed in black, entered carriages, each with his confessor,
and were driven slowly to the place of execution, which was surrounded
by a guard of four thousand men. On alighting, the Emperor embraced his
two companions, promising they should soon meet in another world, and
then walked with dignity to the spot assigned at the foot of a hill in
front of a shattered wall. Here he placed Miramon in the centre, saying,
“A brave soldier is respected by his sovereign; permit me to yield you
the place of honor.” Turning to Mejia, who had been unnerved by the
sight of his wife running through the streets frantic with grief, he
said: “General, what has not been rewarded on earth will certainly be in
heaven.” After distributing some gold pieces among the soldiers who were
to do the firing, he said in a firm voice: “May my blood be the last
shed in sacrifice for this country, and if more is required, let it be
for the good of the nation, never by treason.”

The signal to fire was then given and the three fell simultaneously,
Maximilian’s body pierced by six bullets. The Mexican Empire had ceased
to exist, and the noble Hapsburger had laid down his life for the
welfare of an ungrateful people.

General Escobedo had promised the Emperor before his death that his body
should be delivered to Baron von Magnus to be taken back to Europe, yet
in spite of this the ambassador had much trouble in obtaining possession
of it. He was ill himself for a time with fever and had to be taken to
Potosi. After many delays, however, the remains were finally given into
his custody on November twelfth and, attended by Vice-admiral von
Tegetthof, his two adjutants, and Doctor Basch, were taken to Vera Cruz
with a cavalry escort of one hundred men, and placed on board the
_Novara_, the same vessel which but three years before had conveyed
Maximilian to his adopted country and to his doom. On the fifteenth of
January, 1868, the _Novara_ arrived at Trieste. A special train conveyed
the coffin to Vienna, where, three days later, the body of Archduke
Ferdinand Maximilian of Austria was buried in the imperial vault in the
Capuchin church.




                             Chapter XVIII
                               Conclusion


As there may be some curiosity as to the later history of those who so
shamefully betrayed the Emperor Maximilian, a word as to their fate may
not be amiss.

His murderer, Juarez, proved himself unable to restore peace and
tranquillity in the country. He attained his ambition, however, when he
was again made President, and this sufficed for him. He did not long
survive the victim of his cruelty and revenge, dying, in Mexico, July
18, 1872. His friend, Escobedo, received from General Mejia his only son
as a legacy—one that was to prove a constant reminder of his treachery.
Twice the Juarist chief had owed his life to Mejia’s generosity, yet he
had not hesitated in turn to sign the latter’s death-warrant.

Napoleon Third’s subsequent career has passed into history. Losing
battle after battle, and finally his throne, in the war of 1870, he
surrendered his sword to King William First of Prussia on the second of
September of that year and was taken to Wilhelmshöhe at Cassel as a
prisoner of war, where he received very different treatment from that
accorded the captive Emperor in Querétaro. After the conclusion of peace
he retired to England, where he died at Chiselhurst.

A yet more tragic fate befell Marshal François Achille Bazaine. During
the Franco-Prussian War he was besieged in Metz by Prince Friedrich Karl
and forced to surrender with about one hundred and seventy thousand men.
He was taken to Cassel, where he shared Napoleon’s imprisonment. Accused
by the French not only of cowardice and incapacity but also of treason,
he was tried by court-martial and condemned to death. There being no
bloodthirsty Juarez in France, however, the sentence was commuted to
twenty years’ imprisonment on the Island of Sainte Marguerite, near
Cannes. He succeeded in escaping, with the help of his wife, and fled to
Madrid, where he lived in poverty and obscurity and died in 1888,
forgotten by the world and deserted by his wife, who returned to her
native Mexico.

Marquez escaped from the city of Mexico, hiding the first night, it is
said, in a coffin, and, continuing his flight at daylight toward the
north, succeeded in reaching Texas. His subsequent history is unknown.
After betraying the imperial army, Lopez prepared to enjoy the reward of
his treason, but it was flatly refused him. Despised alike by friend and
foe, and even by his own wife, he led a wretched existence, employing
himself in vain attempts to vindicate his treachery.

                            * * * * * * * *

Doubtless Maximilian made many grave mistakes, but from the foregoing
pages it is plain that both he and his wife went to Mexico with the
noblest aims and full of enthusiasm for the mission, to the difficulties
of which they finally succumbed. Yet the sacrifice was not wholly in
vain, for the last struggle has served to embalm the memory of the
Emperor Maximilian First of Mexico as a brave and chivalrous prince,
while that of his enemies is held in merited contempt.

On the spot where Maximilian and his two generals so gallantly met their
fate on the nineteenth of June, 1867, a memorial chapel has been
erected, to which throngs of Mexicans of all classes annually make a
pilgrimage on the anniversary of that day, as indeed they did
previously, when only a simple gravestone marked the place of death.




                                Appendix


The following is a chronological statement of important events connected
with Maximilian:

    1832    Birth of Maximilian.
    1850-57    Marine service.
    1857    Marriage to Carlotta.
    1859    Retires to Miramar.
    1863    Mexican Embassy visits Miramar.
    1864    Coronation ceremony.
    1864    Arrival in Mexico.
    1865    Revolutionary uprisings.
    1866    The Empress goes to Europe.
    1867    Departure of the French.
    1867    Downfall of the Mexican Empire.
    1867    Execution of Maximilian.




                     LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

                    _Translated from the German by_
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