The rise and fall of the Emperor Maximilian/Chapter XXII
CHAPTER XXII.
Termination of the French Intervention in Mexico—Reflections on the Fate of Maximilian—His Illusions and Errors—Retrospect and Final Considerations.
THE history of the French intervention in Mexico terminates here. The events which happened during the last three months of Maximilian's life belong to the province of Mexican history. The elect of French policy knew how to die with all the pride which befitted a descendant of Charles the Fifth. But one cannot help regretting that he had not sought a soldier's death at Queretaro, sword in hand. A conqueror, vanquished by fortune, falls with more dignity by the hand of an enemy on the field of battle, than under the sentence of a court-martial. We cannot help thinking that Maximilian, led on to his death by a guilty faction, never ceased to hope for a peaceful issue. It was a fixed idea with him to give up the authority with which he thought he was invested into the hands of Juarez, whom he had invited to a solemn compact; this testifies how far his illusions carried him. It would be difficult in any other way to explain the conduct of the young sovereign. If he had intended to plunge into the contest, and strike a last blow for the monarchy, he would hardly have quitted the capital, which was prepared to resist any attack, and have secluded himself in an unfortified town, commanded by strong positions all round it. He would hardly have left behind him at Mexico 500 faithful Hungarians, whose bodies would have been a rampart round him in the day of battle—whose sabres would have cleared a safe passage for him down to the sea. Notwithstanding his state of prostration from grief and fever, he should have resolutely grasped the-sword of the Hapsburgs which in his youth he had so longed to wield. He capitulated, because his chivalrous character induced him to believe in the magnanimity of others. He forgot, at this supreme moment, when these faithful Austrians were preparing to die for his sake, that he had to answer, and justly so, for all the blood that had been shed for his cause. Ambition is a noble quality when its aim is the happiness of a nation. A prince may be momentarily deceived as to the sincerity of the vote of a nation which, yielding to constraint or to some transient influence, entrusts him with its destinies. But the matter is soon brought to a test. When, after the lapse of two years, conflicting parties are still tearing one another to pieces in every part of the territory, the ambition which still persists in its aim becomes as guilty as the hand which is lifted against the liberty of a people; the responsibility of the convulsions of the country is then to be traced back to rulers, who, though they may evade the judgment of men, cannot escape the strictures of history.
As we finish the sad investigation of this long drama, we feel a consciousness that we have vindicated the truth only, without having either undertaken or accepted any exculpatory office. Fresh documents, which for the truth of criticism it is material should be produced, wherever they may come from, may perhaps seem inconsistent with, but cannot destroy, the authentic writings on which our narrative is based. The future only will be able to reconstruct the past, aided by all the truthful materials which every day is adding to the historical records of the second French empire. At all events, from the facts already known, one great lesson is evolved—that the policy of a government cannot with impunity venture to run indefinite risks without giving a shock to its power and damaging the prestige of its dignity, at home as well as abroad. Rulers ought not to forget that human passions play their part in the most elevated regions of the community, just as in its lowest recesses, and that it is their province to submit all their actions to the salutary and restrictive control of those they govern, if they would not lay them open to the stern censures of posterity.