Maximilian in Mexico: A Woman's Reminiscences of the French Intervention 1862-1867Stevenson, Sara Yorke
History
Maximilian in Mexico: A Woman's Reminiscences of the French Intervention 1862-1867
Stevenson, Sara Yorke
Maximilian, Emperor of Mexico, 1832-1867; Mexico -- History -- European intervention, 1861-1867
Later, upon reaching Vera Cruz, I remembered that nothing had been said
of the yellow fever and the rainy season, or of the magnitude of the
sparsely populated country which it was necessary to clear of predatory
bands who then virtually held it, or of the expense in men and millions
which must be incurred to maintain order while all these great schemes
were being carried out. My eloquent fellow-travelers unhesitatingly
asserted that Mexico yearned for all this prosperity; it was extending
its arms to France; the French army would receive one long ovation in
its triumphant march to the capital amid vivas and showers of roses. All
who KNEW said so. How lucky was mademoiselle to be going there at this
auspicious moment, to witness such great and stirring events!
M. Jubinal looked somewhat incredulous, but the atmosphere created just
then by the occasion was certainly against him. Here was a large company
of French capitalists, backed by one of the most substantial houses in
France, opening direct communication between that country and Mexico,
when hitherto most of the traffic had been conducted through an English
medium. To my youthful mind it DID seem then as though M. Jubinal had
the worst of the argument.
Upon leaving my brilliant companions to find my way to the steamer,
however, the scene changed as suddenly as though a wizard's wand had
wrought its magic. The weather seemed threatening; a dull gray sky hung
low over the bay, and the chopping, white-capped waves reflected the
leaden color of the clouds.
There were only forty passengers on board, and, comparatively speaking,
little of the animation that usually precedes the outgoing of an ocean
steamer. I found without difficulty the French banker and his Mexican
wife who had kindly consented to chaperon me during my lonely journey;
and I soon discovered that she and I were the only women passengers on
board.
Our fellow-travelers were uninteresting--mostly commercial agents or
small tradesmen representing the old-established petty commerce with
Mexico. The new order of things was suggested, somewhat ominously, only
by the presence of two young surgeons on their way to increase the
effective force of the military hospital in Vera Cruz.
Evidently the predicted exodus to El Dorado had not yet begun. Where was
the advance-guard of the great army of emigrant capitalists now about to
start, and of which I had just heard so much?
This was the first serious disillusion of my life, and it left a deep
and permanent impression upon my mind. What was the relation between the
great banquet of Pereire & Co., this train full of statesmen, literati,
and other distinguished men, this blast of the press heralding a great
and joyful event in the commercial life of the French nation,--and this
old patched-up ship, with its scant load of commonplace and evidently
old Franco-Mexican tradesmen, lying in lonely dullness against the gray
sky on that gloomy evening?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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