France in the Nineteenth Century

by Elizabeth Wormeley Latimer

The emperor and empress had expected a public reception. There was nothing of the kind. No welcome awaited them,—not even an official one. This was the more extraordinary because the "Thémis" had been sent forward to announce the approach of the imperial party. Their disappointment at the want of enthusiasm was great. The French vice-admiral did his best to repair unfortunate omissions. He gave orders for a show of festivity; but it was plain to see, from the indifference of the people in the streets, that they had no part or lot in the demonstration.

After leaving the sea-coast, Maximilian proceeded towards his capital in an old shabby English barouche, his journey seeming rather like the expedition of an adventurer than the progress of an emperor. Passing through Orizaba and Puebla, the emperor and empress entered Mexico on June 12. French agents had paid for flowers to be scattered in their path, and a theatrical kind of procession was prepared, which was not agreeable to either of them. The only part of the population which hailed their coming with delight were the descendants of the Aztecs, many of whom appeared on the occasion in feather dresses preserved in their families since the time of Montezuma. In the evening there was a public performance at the theatre in honor of the new sovereigns, but not half the boxes were filled.

The palace of Chapultepec, which had been assigned them as their residence, was destitute of comforts of any kind, and was much more like a second-class hotel than a habitation meet for princes. Yet even here, one of Maximilian's first cares was to layout the grounds and to plant flowers.

He was advised to make an immediate journey through his new dominions, in order to judge for himself of the aspirations and resources of the people. But he found a country broken down by war, without roads, without schools, without agriculture. "The only thing in this country which is well organized, sire," said a Mexican whom he was questioning about the state of things, "is robbery."

There was thieving everywhere. The emperor's palace, and even his private apartments, were not spared. One day, after a reception of officers high in military command, his revolver, inlaid with gold and ivory, which had lain on a table by his side, disappeared, and the empress missed two watches, which had gone astray under the dexterous fingering of her maids-of-honor. General Lopez, who was then commandant of the palace, wishing to give the emperor a proof of the accomplishments of his subjects in matters of this kind, offered to steal off his writing-table, within two hours, and without being noticed, any object agreed upon. He said he believed he could even carry off the table,—a joke at which the emperor laughed heartily.

When Maximilian returned to his capital, after a journey of great peril, he ordered the construction of several high-roads, granted lands and privileges to two or three railroad companies, founded a good many schools, and set on foot a Mexican Academy of Sciences. His own taste for natural history was so great that he gave some foundation for the charge made against him that he would frequently shut himself up in his workroom to stuff birds. He devoted great attention to improvements in agriculture, and planned a manufacturing city, and a seaport on the Gulf of Mexico which he intended to call Miramar.

His wife was an indefatigable helpmeet. She wrote all his European correspondence, but resented the interference of the French, and could be curt and energetic when the occasion called for self-assertion.

An American gentleman who saw her at a court-ball at this period thus describes her: "She was imperial in every look and action. The dignified and stately step so well suited to her station, and with her perfectly natural, would have seemed affectation in another. She did not seem remarkably tall, except in comparison with others. Her voice possessed a refinement peculiar to birth, education, and superior natures."

But while the emperor and empress were laboring for the improvement of their realm, the Juarists were increasing in strength, and banditti carried on their enterprises with impunity up to the very gates of Mexico. Day after day the stage was robbed between Mexico and Jalapa. The Marquis de Radepont, a quiet traveller, saved himself by killing half-a-dozen highwaymen with his revolver; but the Belgian ambassador, on his way to announce to their Imperial Majesties the accession of Leopold II., the brother of Carlotta, was robbed of all his jewelry and money.

In consequence of these disorders the emperor signed, on Oct. 3, 1865, in spite of the remonstrances of Marshal Bazaine, the French general-in-chief in Mexico, an order to the civil and military authorities to treat all armed guerilla bands as brigands, and to apply to them the utmost rigor of martial law.