Part 22
Fresh troops came from France, and by the beginning of another year the army of invasion, commanded by Marshal Forey, numbered forty thousand men, not counting the Mexicans on that side, whose numbers increased as the magnitude of the enterprise became known.
Puebla again was the scene of the struggle. For two months General Ortega defended it obstinately, but food became scarce. A convoy bringing provisions, under charge of General Comonfort, was seized by the French under Marshal Bazaine, and on the 17th of May the besieged army was obliged to succumb, without capitulating. The French advanced towards the capital, and the Mexicans abandoned it, Juarez withdrawing towards the north, where he re-organized his government at San Luis de Potosi. He never relinquished his office during the whole of the French intervention, and remained all the time, in the minds of loyal Mexicans, and also in the language and opinion of the government of the United States, President of the still existing Mexican Republic.
XXXVII.
THE EMPIRE UNDER PROTECTION.
On the 28th of May, 1864, to the great joy of the Cabinet of the Tuileries, who had been much in fear that their scheme might fall through, the new sovereigns arrived at Vera Cruz. They were but coolly received by the merchants of that port, and passed through it without ceremony, followed by the large suite they brought with them. But the priests had aroused the Indians _en masse_ to welcome new rulers, who would, they were promised, restore their liberties and raise their condition. Crowds of these people in serapes and rebozos, with dark eyes full of questions, stood along the route of the imperial cortége as it left Vera Cruz.
Nor was enthusiasm elsewhere wanting; a real imperialist party sprang up from the soil, spontaneously, on the appearance of the young prince and his consort. Had they known how to secure this popularity and make it permanent, these imported sovereigns might have reared for themselves a realm in the hearts of the impressionable people of Anahuac. Maximilian formed his idea of sovereignty upon the absolute rule of the Middle Ages. He would not stoop to make popularity; he expected it to be freely offered. Indeed, he had assented to come only when he was summoned by the voice of the whole Mexican people. This voice was the reluctant vote of a Junta got together by the clerical party on purpose to satisfy his demand. But the charm of his presence, which was dignified and princely, and the winning manner of Carlotta, well fitted to play the part of gracious sovereign to an adoring people, won all hearts for the moment.
A splendid reception was prepared in the capital. Triumphal arches spanned the principal avenues to the city, inscribed with the names of the personages who had brought about the glorious intervention. The streets, especially San Francisco and Plateros, were hung with banners of every color, set with exquisite flowers and plants. Rows of citizens and troops, dressed in their best, lined the way through which the open carriage of Maximilian and Carlotta made its way, preceded by the officers of state, and followed by a long retinue of public functionaries and persons of the highest aristocracy. Balconies and azoteas were crowded with curious gazers, and vivas were not wanting; yet it is said that the populace kept away from the solemnity, or looked on coldly, at the advent of the foreign intruders.
Maximilian was accompanied by a crowd of followers,--his escort, household servants, and retinue; and brought with him all the material for establishing in a new country a throne of the "right divine." Quantities of these things, for want of lumber-room, are now stored at the National Museum at Mexico, where one may see in glass cases much heavy silver plate with the imperial arms, destined for the feasts of this descendant of Charles V.; the decorations of the Emperor; and below in the courtway stands the great glass coach in which he sat with the Empress, as once sat Cinderella in a similar one. All these insignia of royalty they brought to impose upon their new thralls.
And so the young sovereigns set about organizing their ideal court. All society was at their feet, and the society in Mexico at that time, if more provincial than that of Paris or Vienna, yet had for Maximilian and Carlotta the merit of being their own domain. They were monarchs of all they surveyed. It was indeed a romance. All their debts paid by a generous Napoleon in the background, a French army full-fledged to protect them, a throne, a court, a people ready-made to order,--all they had to do was to enter in and enjoy them.
Marshal Bazaine, at the head of military affairs, set about the restoration of the arsenal, and repairing the damages made by the United States war. On his arrival he found the service of artillery entirely disorganized. Molino del Rey he restored to its functions of a foundry, so that it could furnish arms and munitions for the country.
Napoleon had promised that the French troops should remain about Maximilian for six years, or until his own national army should be on such a footing as to be a proper protection to its Emperor. Bazaine was therefore occupied with the reconstruction of the army, with an eye to the distant day when he and his force might be recalled.
Meanwhile, Maximilian began to govern, according to his lights, which were liberal as far as the limit of absolute monarchy allowed. He sought to gain the friendship of the party allied to Juarez, holding the idea that this native chief of a half-civilized people had been driven off the field for good, and that it was to be an easy task to replace his crude government with one based on loftier planes. He paid no attention to the new code of the reform, but began to impose his own regulations, and to legislate on all matters as if Mexico were still in its natural and primitive state. He readily listened to all sorts of plans for the construction of telegraphs, railways, and other enterprises for the improvement of the country, with little heed to their vast expense.
Among these was the restoration of the palace at Chapultepec, then in dismal ruin since the attack of the Americans. From their first glimpse of it the new sovereigns decided that here should be their home, the chosen dwelling which should recall the delights of Miramar; recognizing it as the loveliest spot in all the broad valley of Anahuac. So thought the Aztec chiefs who sought its shade in their leisure moments; so thought the viceroy, Galvez; and so thinks every one now who drives from the city over the broad Paseo, built in the time of Maximilian, as a fit approach to the charmed palace.
It stands on a height of two hundred feet above the valley; a winding road from the avenue below, shaded by huge trees, leads to a platform where are the great stone buildings of the lower terrace belonging to the Military Academy. On these buildings, which form its basement, is all the range of Maximilian's palace, including not only a suite of state apartments and smaller rooms, but, planted on soil brought up from below, a series of hanging gardens, surrounded by galleries with marble columns. From the tangle of shrubbery and climbing masses of neglected roses, can be seen below, stretching far and wide, the extensive landscape, and from the terrace the incomparable view of the volcanoes, with the broad interval between.
The interior decoration of Maximilian's palace was in imitation of Pompeii. It was furnished in the French taste with light stuffs and gold, very well suited to its sunny height and the pure atmosphere of the valley of Mexico.
Fêtes, receptions, dinners, and dances, every form of gay life, ruled the home at Chapultepec. The young Empress, animated and brilliant, was the centre of her court. For a time no shadow fell upon the bright prospect of the new Empire.
The capital presented an unusually lively aspect. The French garrison filled the city with well-dressed regiments; business received a new impulse from foreign merchants of all sorts, who came, attracted by the demands of a court for luxury; the rich families of the capital displayed their wealth in all the splendor of luxurious living. After many years of discord and depression, the reaction brought about by this burst of prosperity pervaded the capital. It was true that this satisfaction was felt only by high society. There was no real improvement as yet in the resources of the country; the middle class, with no greater facilities for living than before the new order of things, were poor and discontented, and murmured at the sight of rejoicing and luxury they could not share. Carlotta, with an open hand, distributed alms, drawn from the fortunate purse at her disposition; but this, without method or definite aim, had no great effect upon the general prosperity.
In fact it was by no means the purse of a benevolent French Emperor that furnished funds for so much expenditure. A heavy loan was negotiated by the crown in 1864, in Paris and London, which brought to its use plenty of ready money, but entailed upon the nation a debt, of which it is not yet free. The cities and separate states of Mexico, at first readily surrendered to the troops of Maximilian, small foreign garrisons being left in each of the principal ones to maintain his authority by their presence. It was necessary to maintain military rule, however, for fear of relapse towards the Republic, and on account of vast guerrilla bands, espousing the liberal cause, which infested roads and small villages, where constant encounters and actions took place with imperial troops.
But the gay court of Maximilian little heeded these things. They left the army to Bazaine, and the government to the ministers. Never was Mexico so brilliant, so triumphant, so apparently at the zenith of prosperity, as during the brief time of the French intervention.
XXXVIII.
THE UNPROTECTED EMPIRE.
But there came a day which put an end to all these festivities.
The civil war in the United States was over, leaving the government at Washington at leisure to attend to outside affairs; moreover, leaving at its disposition an army of well-trained troops, and a treasury well-filled, in spite of the drain on both of these through a protracted and destructive war.
On the 7th of April, 1864, the Secretary of State wrote thus to the United States Minister in Paris:
"SIR:--I send you herewith the copy of the unanimous resolution passed in the House of Representatives the 4th instant. It comprises the opposition of this body to any recognition of a monarchy in Mexico.... It is scarcely necessary, after what I have previously written you, to say that this resolution sincerely expresses the unanimous sentiment of the people of the United States."
The will of the United States government settled the question, and this will was most distinctly made manifest. The French Emperor could not involve his people in a war with the United States, nor did he himself, already somewhat weary of his own scheme for establishing the supremacy of the Latin race upon the western continent, regard it as worth the risk of such a war. He readily assented to any proposition of the government at Washington, whose imperative demand was the withdrawal of French troops from the continent of North America.
Louis Napoleon has been much blamed for his conduct in the matter of the French intervention, even execrated. It is not easy to defend it, but it may be said that from the European point of view, the plan of intervention was not such a bad one. Undoubtedly it originated in the minds of the royalist refugees from Mexico, who sincerely saw no better way of serving their country, torn in pieces with internal dissensions and civil wars, than to furnish her with a ready-made crown from the continent where such articles are furnished.
The Church party, which saw with genuine horror the sequestration of their property, ascribed it to the progress of so-called liberal ideas. They were warmly encouraged by good Roman Catholics in Europe, and among them by the Emperor at Versailles, who professed himself an ardent adherent of the Pope.
The scheme was possible, because the powerful neighbors of Mexico were occupied in quarrelling among themselves. That quarrel might last until the Latin race had firmly taken root. Napoleon never intended a permanent French occupation of the country. It was his whim to plant the little monarchy, water it and dig about its roots, and then go away to attend to other affairs.
The American quarrel did not last, nor did the monarchy take root. The French troops were withdrawn before the government of the Empire was in any sense fully established. The national army which Bazaine sought to establish on a firm footing was not strong enough or loyal enough to uphold the Emperor, and he was sacrificed.
Everybody wished him to abdicate. Napoleon sent a special messenger to Mexico to urge this course; Bazaine urged it, and it seems now as if Maximilian himself must have perceived that there was nothing else left for him. But he was very slow to admit such an idea. Neither he nor the Empress in any sense realized their perilous position.
At the end of June, 1866, came the final word of Napoleon, in reply to an appeal sent to him from Maximilian, upon which he, and still more Carlotta, had founded great hopes. The message of the French Emperor was short, its tenor distinct, hard, making it clear that no further support was to be furnished by the Tuileries to the Mexican project; the conditions were hard, asserting that the troops must be immediately withdrawn. Maximilian at last understood that but one course was left to him--abdication. On the 7th of July he took up his pen to sign away the Mexican monarchy; but the Empress stayed his hand. Carlotta, of a will stronger than that of her husband, with a determined ambition, offered to go herself to Europe to make a personal appeal to Napoleon and another at Rome. On the very next day she left the capital in haste, never to return.
It is said that on arriving at Vera Cruz the Empress could find nothing at the quay but a small French boat to carry her out to the great steamer in the offing. She absolutely refused to place herself under the French colors which floated at the stern of the boat, so bitterly she felt the insult offered to her interests by the French nation.
She arrived at Saint-Nazaire early in August, to the surprise of the local authorities, and, still more, of the court of the Tuileries. The report of the arrival of the Empress of Mexico produced a sensation at Paris, for public opinion there was already interested in the Mexican drama. When Carlotta landed she was the object of a large crowd assembled on the docks. She appeared dressed in deep mourning, with great sadness of demeanor. Her face was pale and haggard, and her eyes burned with fever. She was accompanied only by a few ladies and gentlemen of her house. No preparation, of course, had been made for her; a common _voiture de place_ took her to the hotel. Her Mexican servants, with their large _sombreros_ trimmed with gold braid, made a sensation in the French port.
The next day she arrived in Paris, and went to the Grand Hotel, refusing to ask hospitality at the Tuileries. The imperial family was at Saint Cloud. She at once sent to request an immediate interview with Napoleon III.
The Minister of State paid her a visit immediately, and she passed part of the day in conversing with him. The next morning she went to the palace, although the Emperor had sent word that he was indisposed. Finally he concluded to see her. She eloquently demanded, on the part of Maximilian, continued aid, in money and troops. The interview was long and violent, it is said, and full of recrimination. The Empress, as all the fair structure of hopes she had raised since her departure from Chapultepec crumbled before her, gave way to bitter emotion. She declared that she, a king's daughter, of the blood of Orleans, had made a terrible mistake to accept a throne from the self-made Emperor of the French, a Bonaparte.
From this scene at Saint Cloud the madness of the new Empress is thought to have begun. She had scarcely the force left to continue her course to the Vatican, where she found no more redress than she had done at the Tuileries. The whole of Europe had soon to shudder at the news that she had lost her reason. She never returned to Mexico.
It was by way of the United States that Maximilian first heard of the failure of the interview at Saint Cloud. He kept silent, still hoping better success from the negotiations of the Empress with the Pope; but meanwhile he quietly made preparations for his departure from Mexico, giving out that it was his intention to meet the Empress at Vera Cruz on her return. Much household baggage had been already transferred thither, and the rumor spread abroad, of the probable departure of the royal household, producing a lively sensation throughout the country.
The time was drawing near. Maximilian, at Chapultepec, under the melancholy boughs of the cypresses, gloomily paced the alleys, dreaming of his shattered hopes. A telegraphic despatch was put in his hands, sent through the United States. It announced that the Empress Carlotta was mad. Maximilian at once gave orders for departure, and wrote to Bazaine that he was about to leave Mexico.
The society of the capital was struck with grief at the news of Carlotta's state, for they had an ardent adoration of their brilliant Empress.
The Emperor went first to Orizaba, where he was obliged to delay the many necessary final arrangements. There was no railway then, and the journey was made in a carriage. Maximilian preserved a gloomy silence all the way. As the little party approached Orizaba early in the morning, having passed a night in a little village on the way, Maximilian alighted to walk down the zig-zag way which leads from the plateau towards the _tierra caliente_. He walked swiftly and silently, wrapped in a long gray coat, a broad-brimmed _sombrero_ on his head, sometimes turning to glance back at the heights he might never see again. While they were stopping at noon for rest and refreshment, the eleven white mules which drew their carriages were stolen; it was a long time before other animals could be found to take their places. Finally, the sun was setting as they reached the pretty village of Ingenio, outside of Orizaba. There awaited the little party a group of horsemen, inhabitants of Orizaba, and several curates, who had come out to greet the Emperor, followed by a crowd of Indians. Bells were rung, guns fired, and his welcome was universal.
The Emperor stayed a week in Orizaba, during which Bazaine impatiently awaited in Mexico his final announcement of departure. But Maximilian was still hesitating. He was approached and surrounded by certain members of the clerical party, who felt sure that the fall of the monarchy would be their ruin. Among these was Father Fischer, to whom Maximilian accorded the greatest confidence.
This man, of German origin, emigrated to Texas about 1845, and afterwards, in search of gold, to California. He was at first a Protestant, but converted, received orders somewhere in Mexico, and obtained the post of secretary to the Bishop of Durango. He was introduced to Maximilian, who was attracted by his appearance, which betrayed great intelligence; he became one of the most trusted advisers of the Emperor. He succeeded in surrounding Maximilian with agents of the reactionary, or clerical party, who urged him not to abandon them at this dark hour, at the same time assuring him of the hidden force of the party, and its resources. At this very time the city of Oaxaca, defended by Mexican imperial troops, was obliged to capitulate and open its doors to Porfirio Diaz, the general of liberal forces. Yet Maximilian wavered. It was difficult, even yet, for him to renounce the crown of his visions. Moreover, honor, fidelity to the Church, prompted him to remain, even to perish for that cause. Just then, to reinforce the eloquence of Father Fischer, two generals, devoted to the clerical cause, who had been in exile in Europe for two years, disembarked at Vera Cruz, and instantly offered their services to the Emperor; these were Miramon and Márquez, eager, as they declared, to open the campaign again under the imperial banner. Maximilian, inspired by their discourse and their promises of arms and money, hesitated no longer, but pledged his word to the clerical party to return to his station, and resume its dignities. Miramon hastened to Mexico to rouse the ardor of all the partisans of the Church, and to set on foot a new army.
The Emperor issued a manifesto to the Mexican people, and returning to Mexico, instead of going back to the palace of Chapultepec, took up quarters in a modest _hacienda_ outside the capital, called La Teja.
XXXIX.
MAXIMILIAN.
General-in-Chief Bazaine, the envoy from the Tuileries, and all true friends of the Emperor, heard with dismay his resolution to remain. His peaceful abdication had been hoped for by all parties. Bazaine sought to withdraw his troops, since withdraw they must, in as orderly a manner as possible. Overtures had even been made with the liberals, in regard to a successor to Maximilian, that all parties might be harmonized if possible, so that the country should find itself under firm hands, just as if there had been no French intervention, as soon as the Republic was clear of French troops. But the manifesto of the Emperor rendered all such hopes vain. The insistance of the United States and repeated orders from France made it necessary to remove the French troops without delay. French steamers awaited them off the coast of Vera Cruz, and the hour of departure was fixed.
At the end of the month of January, 1867, the French army, in full retreat, rolled out its long course "like a ribbon of steel" over the dusty route between the capital and Vera Cruz. Cannons were broken up, horses were sold for almost nothing, to reappear later in the ranks of the liberal army. On the 5th of February the tri-colored flag of France, which had floated over French head-quarters, was lowered; the capital was freed from the occupation of the French. Moreover, the Belgian and Austrian troops went too, for the Emperor was unwilling to retain them, resolving to trust himself wholly to the arms of his Mexican subjects.
Meantime Juarez, much encouraged by the aspect of things and by intimations of approval from the government of the United States, had advanced from the north, where he had been lying in wait for better times, and fixed his residence, with his Cabinet, which he always kept about him, in Zacatecas. General Escobedo, chief of his armies in the north, had reconquered that portion of the country as far as San Luis de Potosi, and the greater part of the cities and states, abandoned by the French, fell at once into the hands of the liberals.
It was thought best by the imperialists to advance towards the enemy as far as Querétaro, and there the army established itself, Maximilian with it, while Miramon advanced towards Zacatecas and surprised it, almost taking Juarez prisoner with his whole government.