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.”