The legal resources exhausted, the plan of escape, devised by the Princess Salm-Salm, in collusion with the Ministers of Austria, Belgium, and Italy and the French Consul, frustrated; the prisoners waited, with resignation, until the terrible moment should arrive in which the sentence was to be executed. The last letters and dispositions written by Maximilian and Miramon show that their natural valor did not abandon them in those supreme moments. Mejia wrote nothing; but in the mental depression in which the disease from which he was suffering submerged him, he maintained that tranquil stoicism, which marked his temperament. On the 19th, at six in the morning, a division of four thousand men under command of General Jesús Diaz de León formed at the foot of the Cerro de las Campanas, on the northeast slope. Maximilian, Miramon, and Mejia arrived at about a quarter past seven, brought in carriages, and each one accompanied by a priest. Maximilian descended first and said courteously to his companions in misfortune: “Let us go, gentlemen,” and the three directed themselves with firm step to the place of execution, where they gave each other a farewell embrace. Maximilian then advanced and distributed twenty-peso gold pieces among the soldiers, who were to shoot him, and then, raising his voice, said: “I am about to die for a just cause, the liberty and independence of Mexico. May my blood seal the unhappiness of my new country. Viva Mexico!” Miramon read the following in a loud voice: “Mexicans! in the council of war, my defenders attempted to save my life; here, soon to lose it, and about to appear before God, I protest against the stigma of traitor which they have tried to put upon me to palliate my sacrifice. I die innocent of that crime, and I forgive its authors, hoping that God may pardon me and that my compatriots will remove so foul a stigma from my sons, doing me justice. Viva Mexico!” Placing himself on the spot indicated, Maximilian, who had asked that his face might not be disfigured, separated his beard with his hands, to one side and the other, exposing his chest; Miramon said, “here,” indicating his heart and raising his head; and Mejia, who had given the soldiers charged with his execution an ounce of gold to divide between them, said never a word but merely laid by the crucifix, which he held in his hand, on seeing that they were aiming at him. The signal to fire was given and a discharge put an end to the bloody drama of the Empire in Mexico, which was so fatal for its authors and for its partisans. PRIMO FELICIANO VELÁSQUEZ. [Illustration]