g. The play-house was crowded with spectators.
It was a tragedy with no admission-fee. The proceedings lasted
three days. The emperor was accused of usurpation, of instigating
civil war, and of causing the death of forty thousand patriots,
hanged or shot in consequence of his order of October 3, intended
to operate only against armed bands of robbers.

On the morning of June 15, 1867, General Escobedo presented himself
in the prison, holding the sentence of the court-martial in his
hand. Maximilian, who could guess his fate, said quietly: "Read
it, General; I am ready to hear you."

Maximilian, Miramon, and Mejia were condemned to be shot.

"I understand you," said the emperor, with perfect calmness. "The
law of October 3 was made to put down robbers: this sentence is
the work of murderers."

Escobedo laid his hand on his revolver with a sudden exclamation.
Then, recovering himself, he said sarcastically: "I suppose that
a criminal must be allowed the right to vilify his judges."

Maximilian turned his back on him, and Escobedo left the prison.

The execution had been ordered for the next morning, but was put
off till the 19th, by order of Juarez.

Meantime the English and Prussian ambassadors hastened to Juarez,
hoping to obtain mercy for the late emperor. The French and Austrian
courts, by telegraph, implored the mediation of the United States.
There was no American minister at that time in Mexico, but Mr.
Seward sent telegraphic despatches to Juarez, pointing out that the
execution of Maximilian would rouse the feelings of the civilized
world against the Mexican Republic.

All was of no avail. The idea of foreign intervention in the affairs
of Mexico was so distasteful to the Mexicans that these pleadings on
the late emperor's behalf by foreign Governments only accelerated
his fate.

During the night before his death, Maximilian asked his jailers
for a pair of scissors. He was refused. Then he implored one of
them to cut off a lock of his hair. When that was done, he wrote
the following pathetic letter to Carlotta:--

MY BELOVED CARLOTTA,--If God should permit you one
of these days to get well enough to read these lines, you will
know how sad has been my fate ever since your departure.
You took with you my happiness, my very life, and my good
fortune. Why did I not take your advice? So many sad things
have taken place, so many unexpected catastrophes and
undeserved misfortunes have fallen on me, that I