Torn by their unceasing dissensions at home, the unfortunate Mexican nation now brought upon themselves complications from abroad. The Government of Juarez, having triumphed over the Conservatives, had been installed in the capital amid popular enthusiasm. But what was the state of the country over which it ruled? Sources of public revenue were paralysed or hypothecated; there was not a dollar in the treasury; and private enterprise and the activities of ordinary wealth were ruined. Funds must be obtained in some way; and an Act of Congress was passed in July, 1861, suspending the payment of Mexico's foreign debts. This grave step laid Mexico open to the most serious charges in European capitals, and her action was stigmatised as repudiation and robbery, especially in London, where the first Mexican loan had been contracted in 1823. This act of the Mexican Liberal Congress was naturally painted in its worst colours by the reactionary representatives of the Conservative party in Europe, who, desirous of bringing back a priestly and monarchical régime, thought this an opportunity and motive for compassing it by means of European intervention. In justice to Mexico at that period it must be chronicled that repudiation of her debts was not intended; only suspension in her temporary distress. But the reprehensible Act of President Miramon, in violating the British Legation and seizing $660,000 belonging to the British bondholders, in November, 1860, had not been forgotten.
Maximilian—the picturesque and melancholy-appearing figure: the ill-fated monarch of an unnatural New World empire—was the culminating figure of Mexico's internecine warfare and questionable financial acts. The story of Maximilian stands out from the pages of Mexico's history in pathetic colours, wringing a sigh from us as we scan its pages, or halt a space in the museum of Mexico's capital before the gilded tawdry coach of the ill-fated Austrian, which is preserved there in musty ruin. For up rose Napoleon III., pricking up his ears at this suggestion of a monarchy in America; and, urged by him, the tripartite convention by France, Spain, and England was brought to being in London, October, 1861, whose purpose was—or, at any rate by the British and Spanish—intervention and the enforcement of the just claims of their bondholders against the defaulting Mexicans. Sailing from Europe, the fleets of the three Powers arrived at Vera Cruz at the end of the year. No idea of conquest of, or interposition in, Mexican territory was intended in this action, only enforcement of just claims, and so it was proclaimed; and a conference having been celebrated with the Mexican representatives, and a preliminary agreement entered into, the Spanish and British ships in all sincerity withdrew and sailed for home. Not so the French—and the charge of perfidy is recorded against France for her act—for the troops of Napoleon repudiated the agreement and entered upon a war of conquest or subjugation. Severe reverses marked their campaign at first, the Mexicans obstinately defending the integrity of the country, under the administration of Juarez, with able generals at the front. Among these was Diaz—later the famous President Diaz—who won some early laurels in the defence of Puebla. But Puebla fell, Juarez abandoned the capital, and the French, under General Forey, entered the City of Mexico without opposition and set up a junta of prominent Mexicans to decide on the form of government to be adopted. The decision of the junta was for a limited monarchy, whose sovereign should be designated Emperor of Mexico, and whose crown should be offered to Maximilian, Archduke of Austria, or, failing him, to some other Catholic prince who might be nominated by "the kindness of his Majesty Napoleon III. of France!" So it befel; a deputation of Mexicans was sent to the Hapsburg prince in his castle upon the far-off Adriatic Sea. Maximiliano accepted under certain conditions; arrived in Mexico, and in company with his wife Carlota, daughter of Leopold, King of the Belgians, was crowned with great solemnity in the Cathedral of Mexico in June, 1864.
Meantime the Liberal party, thus ousted from the seat of Government, was not idle. Juarez established his administration in successive northern towns, approaching the United States border. War to the death against the monarchical system, which had been crammed down the Liberal throat, was their slogan and source of inspiration. The doughty Porfirio Diaz, nominated to a high command, was despatched to Oaxaca; besieged there by the French under Bazaine, making a most determined stand; surrendered at length through lack of food, ammunition, and disaffection among his own people; was captured, imprisoned; escaped; turned against the pursuing enemy and overcame them, re-capturing again his native city, and once more turned the tables upon the Conservatives and the Monarchy.
| CITY OF OAXACA: SPANISH-COLONIAL ARCHITECTURE; THE PORTALES OF THE MUNICIPAL PALACE AND PLAZA. |
The star of Empire, which shone for less than three years under Maximilian, now sets with dramatic suddenness. From the first it was seen that the Emperor was no bigoted Churchman, and his refusal to rescind the clauses of the Reform Laws involved the Imperial Government in grave questions and antagonisms with the disappointed clericals; and the Emperor, indeed, showed himself much in sympathy with the Liberals. These, however, bent upon their own absolute way, would hold no parley with him, notwithstanding that overtures had been made to Diaz after the recapture of Oaxaca.
The end approaches rapidly. The city of Puebla, a Conservative stronghold, falls before Diaz and three thousand of the Republican army, and siege is laid to the City of Mexico in April, 1867. Maximilian had seen the trend towards the inevitable, but had striven, during the previous year, to consolidate the clerical party, whilst the Empress Carlota—brave and pathetic figure of these dramatic events—had gone to France to implore Napoleon to countermand his perfidious withdrawal of the French troops, and to endeavour to secure a settlement of the matters at issue with the clericals with Pope Pius IX. It was useless. The French army left the shores of the country they had wantonly outraged, abandoning the unfortunate figure-head placed there as a result of French machinations, with only the Belgians and Austrians of Maximilian's immediate following. The ill-fated Austrian wavered between his advisers—whether to abandon the thankless task upon which he was engaged, or whether to stay with it to the bitter end. He ultimately chose the latter course; reversing a first intention of abdicating, returned to Mexico city; left thence for Querétaro, and intrenched himself, with an effective force of some nine thousand Imperialists, in that town. The Republicans, twenty-one thousand strong, laid strenuous siege to and attacked the place, suffering several repulses; but the treachery of Lopez, of the Imperialist army, afforded them the entrance to the town, and Querétaro fell.
The fate of the Emperor Maximilian was now in the hands of Juarez. A court-martial was called, and Maximilian was permitted to select counsel for his defence. The deliberations resulted in a sentence of death against Maximilian and his two chiefs and faithful generals, Miramon and Mejia. Juarez took his pen to sign the death-warrant, when before him—the Indian President, son of a despised race—there appeared and kneeled the figure of the Austrian princess, Carlota, supplicating for clemency for her husband. It is said that Juarez wavered, but at that fateful moment the stern Lerdo appeared at the door of the apartment, and shaking a warning finger, uttered those words which sealed the doom of Maximilian, and which have come down ever since in Mexico's history as a species of national axiom—"Ahora ó nunca se salva la patria!"[22] Juarez signed; the condemned Emperor took his stand upon the Cerro de las Campanas outside Querétaro, and faced the file of carbines pointed at his breast, serene and dignified. "Take you the place of honour in the centre," he said in turn to Miramon and Mejia—the latter a full-blooded Indian general who had been privately offered, and had refused, a pardon by Juarez. But both declined, and the three brave men faced forward. A volley rang out upon the early morning air, and with it passed the life of Maximilian and his chiefs, and the last Imperial régime of Mexico.
22 "Now or never for our country's salvation."
This execution—or murder—of Maximilian—for the student is at liberty to term it which he will, according to the trend of his sympathies—took place on June 19, 1867. The wife of the ill-fated member of the unfortunate House of Hapsburg went mad, and in that state lived long in Europe. To the commander of the Austrian warship, who, arriving at Vera Cruz, demanded the remains of the "Emperor of Mexico," answer was returned by the Mexicans that no such person was known; when he then requested the body of "Maximilian of Austria" it was delivered to him. "Savages and barbarians" was the verdict of Europe against the Mexicans for the termination of this drama, and only of recent years—1901—have diplomatic relations been reopened between Mexico and Austria. The impartial historian sees in the dénouement the dictates of fate for a Republican régime throughout the New World, and acknowledges the philosophical right for this form of government; although it may well be open to question if the republicanism of the Americans has yet brought much of advancement to mankind in general or to their own civilisation in particular. The figure of Maximilian, weak though it may have been, was not without nobility; nor did his brief rule lack possibilities for the nation—one party of which had invited his advent and the other consummated his destruction.