At the time when Maximilian sent Colonel de Kodolich to our head-quarters at Mexico, he was thoroughly acquainted with the aim of General Castelnau's embassy. Napoleon's envoy had come to see with his own eyes, by investigating facts and ascertaining the state of public opinion, if the monarchy was able to stand its ground alone. Under the contrary alternative, which the cabinet of the Tuileries knew beforehand was the right one, he was to instigate the immediate abdication of the emperor; and in case of the refusal of the young sovereign to return to Europe, he was ordered to announce the recall of the whole expeditionary force en bloc and at once. These instructions given by his ally Napoleon III.—the full purport of which Maximilian was still ignorant of—were not of a nature to encourage him to throw himself again into the mêlée; and, besides, he no longer retained any illusion as to the elastic powers of the Mexican element in the country. His mind was fluctuating between, on the one hand, a humiliating return to Austria after a public rebuff which might compromise his political future, and, on the other, a well-founded dread of attempting an impossible task joined to a justifiable wish of rejoining his wife, the victim of her devotion to his evil fortunes.
Now intervenes a painful event with which but few are acquainted, which greatly influenced the destinies of the unfortunate prince, and was, in fact, the means of bringing him to the fatal ditch at Queretaro. Maximilian had been foiled in his negotiations with the liberal chiefs and with the United States, which he had for a second time blindly attempted. The state of health of the Princess Charlotte, which was almost despaired of, seemed to draw him more than ever to the chateau of Miramar. He was now preparing to set
