Over on my main blog, Madam Mayo, I just posted about a new essay in Catamaran Literary Reader and (in Spanish) in Letras Libres, on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of Maximilian's execution.
Letras Libres, one of Mexico's finest magazines, has a special section in this month's issue which includes, I am delighted to report, my own essay on Maximilian von Habsbug, "Tulpa Max. La vida después de una resurrección". ("Tulpa Max or, The Afterlife of a Resurrection.")
How many of you have been to Mexico? Well, viva Mexico! Here we are in New Mexico, Nuevo México. On this panel, with Dawn Wink and Kathryn Ferguson, it seems we are all about Mexico.
I write both fiction and nonfiction, most of it about Mexico because that is where I have been living for most of my adult life— that is, the past 30 years— married to a Mexican and living in Mexico City.
But in this talk I would like to put on my sombrero, as it were, as an historical novelist, and although my novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire, is about Mexico, I don’t want to talk so much about Mexico as I do five specific, simple, powerful techniques that have helped me, and that I hope will help you to see as an artist and write across borders and cultures.
Happy New Year! Just posted: A Conversation with M.M. McAllen, which is number 8 in my occasional podcast series "Conversations with Other Writers," about her magnificent narrative historyMaximilian and Carlota: Europe's Last Empire in Mexico, published by Trinity University Press in 2014. My blurb: "A deeply researched book about a period of Mexican history that, while vital for understanding modern Mexico and its relations with the United States and Europe, is of perhaps unparalleled cultural, political, and military complexity for such a short period." William H. Beezeley, coeditor of The Oxford History of Mexico says: "A thorough, complete history of Mexico's second empire. The author leaves nothing untouched." And Luis Alberto Urrea says: "M.M. McAllen has written an important book that not only reads like a novel of fantastic inventions but is key to understanding the soul of Mexico today." > Listen in to this podcast any time here. I'll be posting a complete transcript shortly. >Visit M.M. McAllen at her website www.mmmcallen.com > Listen in to all the other Conversations with Other Writers and/or read their transcripts here.
With each passing generation, whole cliff-sides worth of things and memories crumble away. Yet in 2011, many from the 1860s still survive. A friend from San Miguel de Allende, in fact one of the translators I most admire, Geoff Hargreaves, sent me this story by Maruja González (alas, untranslated). The author very kindly gave her permission for me to include it here on this blog. It is part of what she describes as a collection of family stories and anecdotes, nostalgia and criticisms, for-- my translation-- "at times I want to laugh, for you see, we are all, myself included, very provincial." It is a true story, a family story, and I am delighted to include it here not only because it made me smile, but because I believe it is representative of so many stories about Maximilian, many of which may never appear in print, but are still alive in Mexican families today.
For those who don't read Spanish: As part of his tours of his empire, in 1864, Maximilian visited San Miguel de Allende. He stayed in the house of the author's great grandparents, where a great banquet was prepared including, for dessert, a family recipe of little pears in syrup. Praised by Maximilian himself, the recipe was handed down until... one day... it was served to the author herself. I won't give away the ending! (For more about Maximilian's Mexican travels, see Ein Kaiser Unterwegs by Konrad Ratz and Amparo Gómez.)
LAS PERITAS DEL EMPERADOR
By Maruja González
…apreciamos en todo su valor los sacrificios que Vuestras Majestades han hecho para venir a regenerarnos; comprendemos la magnitud de esta difícil pero gloriosa empresa…
Regidores del Ayuntamiento de San Miguel de Allende a Maximiliano de Habsburgo en 1864 (Diario del Imperio)
Ya he hablado de lo anacrónicos que éramos y en muchos asuntos creo que seguimos siéndolo, es un mal del país y más aún de San Miguel y de mi familia aunque muchos nos creemos muy modernos y librepensadores. Qué se le va a hacer, las plumas se nos asoman a veces. Esta anacronía como forma de perduración, aunque inconsciente, se refleja en hechos de la vida cotidiana como hacer los pacholes en el metate o cerrar los ojos al salir del cine para que no nos de la gota serena que quién sabe qué será, también en el pensar, en el habla con modismos y palabras no solo pueblerinas sino arcaicas y, como ya he contado por ahí, en esa convivencia con los fantasmas añosos enredados en la trama de nuestra vida. Ya las nuevas generaciones se han librado de este lastre pero también han perdido aquella gracia tan provinciana que tenían las tías viejas (creo que yo ya ocupé el lugar de esas tías, pero sin gracia). Aún así, los jóvenes de ahora no se libran de oir de vez en cuando relatos qué, pasados por el tamiz del tiempo, han variado poco de una generación a otra.
Ahora voy a hablar de nuestra relación con Maximiliano de Habsburgo, (nótese que digo nuestra) sí, el merito Emperador austriaco que los mexicanos trajimos porque supuestamente no sabíamos gobernarnos (a lo mejor tenían razón los conservadores). Este honor que tuvimos los sanmigueleños de ser visitados por tan insigne personaje no se nos ha olvidado en más de siglo y medio de acontecido y cualquiera de mis familiares y otros paisanos entrados en años les podrán contar con gran orgullo la opinión que tuvo el Emperador al conocer la cripta de la Parroquia: patitieso y boquiabierto comentó con entusiasmo: ¡Esta cripta es digna de reyes! Yo no sé si el Archiduque austriaco era muy educado (que seguramente lo era, nomás faltaba, pero se excedió) o muy hipócrita, o adulador, para ganarse adeptos, o simplemente padecía de cataratas pero hay que visitar nuestra cripta para sospechar que alguno de estos padecimientos lo aquejaba.
Los festejos que se hicieron en San Miguel para recibir a tan importante personaje, que llegó a la una y media de la tarde del trece de septiembre de 1864, en su periplo para ser conocido y conocer sus nuevas posesiones, cuando iba de paso hacia Dolores Hidalgo a echar el Grito de Independencia (la primera conmemoración después de la arenga del Padre Hidalgo en 1810), fueron festejos muy fastuosos y todo mundo se alborotó para agasajarlo: repiques en todas las iglesias, multitudes vitoreándolo, un imponente Arco Triunfal de origen romano en la esquina de la Plaza, misa solemne, saraos, jamaicas populares, fuegos artificiales y cohetes, muchos cohetes porque esos sí nunca nos pueden faltar, los arcos romanos los dejamos de hacer pero sin el coheterío no podemos vivir, y siguieron con cuanto mitote se les ocurrió para el pobre Maximiliano que siempre estuvo muy enfermo y lo deben de haber acabado de amolar.
No sé por qué causa hospedaron a Su Majestad en la casa de mis tatarabuelos (de la familia Lambarri, en la esquina de San Francisco y Corregidora) y ahí se le hizo solemnísimo banquete con música y solistas y las señoras encopetadas lamentaron mucho la ausencia de la Emperatriz, Carlotita, como ya le decían de cariño. Todas estas señoras de la crema y nata de San Miguel se pulieron haciendo rebuscados manjares a cual más exquisito y lucidor. Una de mis tías tuvo a bien preparar unas peras en almíbar que encantaron al monarca, quien se volcó en elogios a tan maravilloso postre. Esta anécdota, como se comprenderá es otro de los orgullos de la familia junto al de la tía Tita, que componía poesías a la Virgen del Tepeyac y el de mi tía Lupe la cristera.
A mi hermana y a mí esa historia nos embobaba, era nuestro único contacto con la realeza aunque mediara un siglo entre nosotros y nos transportábamos a un cuento de hadas propio. –Un día de estos les voy a hacer las “Peritas del Emperador”—nos decía mamá y esperábamos y esperábamos y ese día tardaba en llegar. Tras muchos ruegos llegó el momento ansiado: --Hoy hay de postre “Peritas del Emperador”--.Ilusión, suspenso… Llegó a la mesa el platón con unas tristes peras de San Juan también nadando en un triste almíbar que tenían un sabor soso más triste aún. – ¿Y esto le ofrecieron a Maximiliano? -- Nos ganó una risa de no parar. Mamá se enfurruñó y nunca volvió a hacernos el cacareado platillo.
Ahora pienso que el pobre visitante real, que padecía una disentería galopante desde antes de llegar a México, debe haber estado harto de comilonas y la sencillez de las peritas le cayó muy bien al estómago y sí debe haber sido sincero en sus elogios. En los de la cripta, bueno…quizá tenga yo que ir de vuelta a visitarla uno de estos días a ver si me pasmo como el Emperador.
Mexican and U.S. history interlace in so many complex and surprising ways. Just this morning, while perusing the New York Times on my iPad, I happened upon "Lincoln's Mexican Visitor" by Willam Moss Wilson, about President Juárez's ambassador, Matías Romero, and his visit to President-elect Lincoln in 1861.
"Matias Romero arrived in Springfield, Ill. on the evening of Jan. 18, 1861. Though late in the day, he figured it would be easy to find a room in this sleepy midwestern town. But there were no rooms available at his first choice, the American Hotel, or anywhere else: all the hotels in town were full of friends, patronage seekers and the merely curious who had come to meet President-elect Lincoln... " READ MORE
To give you a little perspective, should you require it, 1861 was but a decade and a bit beyond the end of the US-Mexican War, in which Mexico lost vast swaths of its territory. Anyone who was or who intended to rule Mexico had to take into account the still voracious and increasingly powerful neighbor to its north. This was precisely the time when Louis Napoleon was beginning to cobble together the scheme that turned into the so-called "Mexican Expedition" and, with the blessing of the Catholic Church and a not-so-small group of Mexican monarchists, the placement-- in 1864-- of Maximilian von Habsburg upon the Mexican throne.
So: 1861. Matías Romero travels to Springfield. This was no small journey. It was a very savvy political investment, and in making it, Juárez may well have established a solid foundation for later successes, in no small part with the help of the post-Civil War United States, against the Mexican Empire.
William Moss Wilson's is a fascinating article, well worth reading.
P.S. One of the key figures working against the Mexican Empire, and for the reinstatement of the Mexican Republic, was John Bigelow, who served as U.S. Minister to France during and for a brief time after the U.S. Civil War. (He also happened to play a role in the story of "prince" Agustín de Iturbide y Green's American mother's attempts to get her son back from Maximilian--- the subject of my novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire, which is based closely on the true story.) Bigelow's papers, in the Mansucripts Division of the New York Public Library, are an invaluable resource for anyone interested in this period. Bigelow took meticulous note of his meetings with Louis Napoleon, Drouyn de Lhuys (the French Foreign Minister), Dr Evans (the American dentist who played go-between), and E. Gould Buffum, the Paris correspondent for the NY Herald, among others. And of course, there are copies of Bigelow's official correspondence with Secretary of State Seward, as well.
As for Matías Romero's magnificent archive: it is at the Banco de México in Mexico City and can be consulted upon request. Click here for a PDF document by archivist Guadalupe Monroy.
A guest-blog post this week, from my Austrian correspondent in Los Angeles.
An Early Example of Merchandising in the Second Mexican Empire: The 1863 Commemorative Medal by the Junta de los Notables for Maximilian of Austria
By H.M. Brindl
Not too long ago, in a flea market in Los Angeles, I found an odd little gem of a medal which supposedly bears the image of Emperor Maximilian of Mexico. A couple of dollars later, I made my way back home with this little medal in my pocket, to find out more about this mysterious piece of Mexican history.
If you try to value it by its precious metal content, you will be disappointed, because there is none; it is made of copper. Even the size, about that of a nickel, isn’t “Imperial” at all. The true value, for me, speaking as an Austrian who is deeply interested in Mexico under Maximilian, comes from the history and the irony that surrounds this medal of Maximilian, who, oddly, enough is not even portrayed on the medal commemorated to him by the Junta De Los Notables or "Assembly of Notables."*
As for the ironies: First, the medal remarks the beginning of the end of Maximilian’s reign as Emperor in Mexico; second, it also serves as a early metaphor for what has to became yet realty and the norm in Maximilian’s Imperio Mexicano ---already, from the beginning , nothing was quite as it was supposed to be or as it might have looked like; and last but not least, the medal shows us very clearly how both the Austrian Archduke and his future Mexican loyal subjects were uninformed and irrational about each other in many ways.
Following are scans of this rare medal and the results on my research on it.
From the American Journal of Numismatics, July 1880 (pp. 15-16):
“Taking up the Mexican Medals, we have first to call attention to one, size 13-1/2,** bearing date 1863, which leads in point of time. During that year there was a junta formed, comprising many Mexicans who were leaders in wealth at least, having for its object the formation of the Empire, placing Maximilian on the throne, of which this medal is commemorative."
Obverse, MAXIMILIANO DE AUSTRIA; a head to left (which did not in the least resemble him)
To left, "Maximiliano," and to right, "De Austria," all surrounded by a border of small pellets.
Reverse, JUNTA DE LOS NOTABLES MEXICO 6 DE JULIO 1863 (the date of resolution or invitation), brass; this piece is noticed in the American Journal of Numismatics, XIII, p. 22. It has probably never appeared in any American sale." [Note: This article was published in 1880; of course, since then there have been medals of this type up for sale. The article goes on to describe and discuss various other Maximilian coins and medals.]
American Journal of Numismatics, and Bulletin of American and Archaeological Societies, July, 1880. Volume XV, No. 1, Whole Number 89. American Numismatic and Archaeological Society.
Besides this coin which commemorates the Assembly of Notables in Mexico City, and another commemorating Maximilian's acceptance of the throne and the coronation at Miramar, there are also medals issued as awards for military and civic merit; for the encouragement of the arts and sciences; and for proficiency in school exercises; others are of a religious and personal character; and finally, there are the mortuary memorials of the closing tragedy at Querétaro on the 19th of June, 1867 [Maximilian's execution by firing squad.]
So, given that the image on the medal does not look at all like Maximilian, whose image is it? If you are an Austrian you might know already. For those who are not, I will reveal the mystery by translating a passage from fellow Austrian Dr. Konrad Ratz, an expert on Mexico's Second Empire. Konrad Ratz published in 1998 two epic books called Maximilian und Juarez, Volume I (The Second Mexican Empire and The Republic) and Volume II (The Queretaro Chronicle). Konrad Ratz, notes about the medal that an image of it was given to him by Senior Eduardo Rabell Urquiola from Querétaro; further on he writes (page 137 Volume I, my translation from German):
“As a matter fact the notables that offered Archduke Max the Mexican thrown, had not the slightest idea who the younger brother of Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria was. When the Assembly of Notables, followed by the advice of Napoleon III, proclaimed the Archduke Maximilian as Emperor, they were not in the possession of a picture of him. The commemorative medal, minted to make the future Emperor popular with Mexicans, shows the profile of a man with a strong roman nose and with a hairstyle worn during the Middle Ages, which did not at the least resemble Maximilian of Mexico. One might suspect that the artist reproduced the portrait of Maximilian I, "the last knight," imagining that a future Maximilian I of Mexico must be a look like of his Habsburg ancestor…”***
Maximilian vs Maximilian:
Had both something more in common besides being Habsburgs and the name Maximilian? There is one thing that came to my attention: both were popular monarchs (at least at times) and keen supporters of the arts and sciences, and surrounded themselves with scholars. One has to admit that Maximilian I* was the more competent ruler; Maximilian of Mexico did not inherited many of the talents of his ancestor. Maximilian I created a huge empire mostly through political marriages which were summed up in the following Latin elegiac couplet:
Bella gerant aliī, tū fēlix Austria nūbe/ Nam quae Mars aliīs, dat tibi regna Venus, "Let others wage war, but thou, O happy Austria, marry; for those kingdoms which Mars gives to others, Venus gives to thee."
Maximilian of Mexico’s attempts to create a huge South American Imperio, never left the early stages of wishful thinking. He wanted his younger brother Archduke Ludwig Victor to marry Isabel, Princess Imperial of Brazil. Maximilian and his wife Charlotte did not have any children. So Ludwig should succeed him. It was Maximilian's plan to rule over Mexico and Brazil one day - on condition that Ludwig and Isabel were married, but Ludwig refused. In 1865 Maximilian "adopted"**** Agustín de Iturbide y Green and Salvador de Iturbide y de Marzan, grandsons of Agustín de Iturbide y Arámburu), an earlier "Emperor of Mexico" who reigned from 1822 until 1823. They gave two-year-old Agustín the title of "His Highness, the Prince de Iturbide" -– similar imperial titles were accorded various members of the child's extended family -– and, apparently, intended to groom him as heir to the throne. The explosive events of 1867, however, dashed such hopes, and, having renounced all rights to the defunct Mexican throne, Agustín de Iturbide y Green went on to serve in the Mexican army, and eventually established himself as a professor in Washington, D.C.
On the other hand, Maximilian I was succeeded as Holy Roman Emperor by his grandson Charles V under whose reign, the territories in New Spain were considerably extended by conquistadores like Hernán Cortés and Francisco Pizarro, who caused the Aztec and Inca empires to fall in little more than a decade.
Irony has it that what started with a Habsburg hundreds of years earlier ended with a Habsburg. Maximilian of Mexico stated once, “I want to die on the top of a hill,” in June 1867 at Queretaro, he stood at the Cerro De Las Campanas (The Hill of Bells) facing a firing squad, looked up in the magnificent, cloudless Mexican sky and said:
“What a glorious day! I have always wanted to die on just such a day.”
Austrians still call out on sunny days with cloudless blue sky’s like on June 19, 1867:
“Heute haben wir Kaiserwetter!” Which translates as, “Today we have Emperors weather -– an Emperor Day!”
Isn’t it ironic?!
FOOTNOTES
*Established in 1863 by the head of the French forces in Mexico, General Elie Forey, the Assembly of Notables consisted of 215 Mexican citizens, called upon to decide the future government of the country. The assembly proclaimed that Mexico would be a hereditary monarchy with a Catholic prince as emperor. The chosen candidate, previously selected by Napoleon III, was the Austrian Archduke, Ferdinand Maximilian von Habsburg. In October 1863, a delegation headed by José María Gutierrez de Estrada offered the crown to Maximilian. He accepted the offer on the condition that the Mexican people should vote in favor of the offer. Maximilian’s reply:
“I am profoundly grateful for the wishes expressed by the Assembly of Notables. It cannot be otherwise than flattering to our house that the thoughts of your countrymen turn to the descendants of Charles V. It is a proud task to assure the independence of Mexico under the protection of free and lasting institutions. I must, however, recognize the fact—-and in this I entirely agree with the Emperor of the French, whose glorious undertaking makes the regeneration of Mexico possible--- that the monarchy cannot be established in your country on a firm and legitimate basis, unless the whole nation shall confirm by a free manifestation of its will the wishes of the capital. My acceptance of the throne must then depend upon the result of the vote of the whole country. Further, a sentiment of the most sacred duties of the sovereign requires that he should demand for the proposed empire every necessary guaranty to secure it against the dangers which threaten its integrity and its independence I beg of you to communicate these my intentions, frankly expressed, to your countrymen, and to take measures to obtain from the nation an expression of its will as to the form of government it intends to adopt."
After this, Marshal Achille Bazaine, who had replaced Forey as French Commander in Chief, masterminded the infamous favorable plebiscite.
**13 1/2 is not a reference to millimeters; it is an archaic numismatic sizing system. Size 13 is about the size of a nickel.
***The German king and Holy Roman emperor (1493 – 1519). Eldest son of Emperor Frederick III and a member of the Habsburg dynasty, Maxmilian I retook most of the Habsburg lands in Austria from the Hungarians by 1490, and, after being crowned Holy Roman emperor, drove the Turks from the empire's southeastern borders. He fought a series of wars against the French, and, through his childrens' marriages, acquired Spain for the Habsburgs.
****[Editor's note: "Adoption" is probably the closest word in English; nonetheless, this was not precisely an adoption as we would normally understand it. Maximilian understood it as more or less analogous to the relationship between Louis Napolean, the Emperor of France, and the Murat Princes. Basically what Maximilian was saying was, I grant the Iturbides the status of Highnesses; as such they join my house. So he did not think of the child as his own but rather as a kind of cousin, a member of an extended family under his leadership and protection. In the contract with the Iturbide family, Maximilian assumes the responsibilities of the education of the grandsons of Iturbide, along with Josefa de Iturbide, the boys' spinster aunt. ---C.M. Mayo]
This year marks both the centennial of Mexico's Revolution and the bicentennial of its Independence from Spain, the latter traditionally celebrated with "El Grito" (the shout) on the evening of September 15th, with a militrary parade and more celebrations to follow on the 16th. (Many Americans confuse Cinco de Mayo with Independence. In fact, Cinco de Mayo celebrates a temporary victory over the invading French Imperial Army at the city of the Puebla on May 5, 1862.)
A little awkwardly for a Republic, not one of the first but the definitive leader of Mexico's Independence was Agustin de Iturbide, known as "the Liberator" who crafted the Plan of Iguala, and then set himself up as emperor. As he was unable to pay the army (among other challenges), he had to abdicate soon thereafter and, to make a labyrinthical story short, he was executed by a firing squad in 1824.
For much of the past century, when modern Mexico was remaking its image in the wake of the Revolution of 1910, Iturbide was widely considered an embarrassment, almost a cartoon character-- an emperor, with a crown?! And it's not uncommon even today in Mexico to mention his name and get a chuckle. But in the 19th century, when Mexico was embroiled in revolutions and foreign invasions--- this a time when the monarchical form of government was still, and certainly in Europe, widely (if not unanimously) considered the most viable and stable model of government--- many people, and in particular, conservatives, and including the leadership of the Catholic Church, considered the martyred Iturbide a hero.
Ironically then, when Maximilian von Habsburg accepted the throne of Mexico-- with the support of the Church, not a few Mexican conservatives, and the backing of the French Imperial Army-- one of the first things he did, in 1865, was celebrate Mexico's Independence!
You might be shaking your head over this. Backed by the French Army, the ex-archduke of Austria celebrates Mexico's Independence?
But this was, in Maximilian's mind at least, a savvy politcal move, for he was also also celebrating Agustin de Iturbide--- that is to say, the hero of Mexican conservative nationalists--- and--- more irony--- Morelos, one of the original leaders of Independence (not an ally of the more conservative Iturbide, to be sure).
Why did Maximilian celebrate Morelos? Here's a key: Morelos's illegitimate son, Juan Nepomuceno Almonte, a general and ex-ambassador to the United States, had been a prime mover behind the offer of the throne. (Once the French occupied Mexico City, in the year before Maximilian arrived, Almonte had served as President of the Regency. When Maximilian arrived, Almonte became his Gran Mariscal de la Corte and his wife, chief lady of honor to the Empress Carlota.) In sum, Maximilian owed his position in Mexico, in part, to Almonte, and Almonte's ongoing support was necessary to keep the Mexican Imperial Army in line.
Maximilian's celebration of September 1865 was an elaborate one and it included a solemn ceremony in which the children and two grandsons of Agustin de Iturbide were elevated to the status of Imperial Highnesses.
Childless himself, Maximilan made a contract --- negotiated, though not signed, by none other than his wife, the Empress Carlota--- with the Iturbide family, in which the two grandsons of Iturbide would be handed over to his custody. Maximilian was to be "co-tutor" along with Josefa de Iturbide, a spinster aunt. The parents of one grandson, Salvador, had both died, and as Salvador was a teenager, he was sent to school in France. The parents of the two-and-a-half year old Agustin de Iturbide y Green, Angel de Iturbide (second son of the Emperor Iturbide) and Alice Green de Iturbide, an American from a prominent Washington DC family, were exiled, much against their will. They immediately went to Washington, to meet with Secretary of State Seward, and then to Paris, to lobby with U.S. Minister John Bigelow to try to get their son back from Maximilian.
Those of you have been following this blog know that the resulting international scandal is the subject of my novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire. To read all about it--- as well as my extensive original research in the Emperor Iturbide and Iturbide archives in Washington DC--- I invite you to visit my webpage which includes videos, podcasts, genealogies, photos, a bibliography, and an extensive Reader's Guide.
This week also marks the publication of the novel in Spanish, translated by Mexican novelist Agustín Cadena as El último príncipe del Imperio Mexicano. It will be in bookstores in Mexico City this weekend, and in the rest of the Republic the week after that. The publisher is Grijalbo (Random House-Mondadori).
Here is the 3 and 1/2 minute trailer (double click to view the larger screen):
Tras las huellas de un desconocido [In the Footsteps of an Unknown](Mexico City: Siglo XXI / Conaculta / INAH, 2008), is a crucially important new work by Dr. Konrad Ratz, Austrian expert on Mexico's Second Empire. Covering a wide range of previously unknown or only superficially explored subjects relevant to Maximilian's life and brief rule in Mexico, Tras las huellas de un desconocido is a both fascinating and entertaining read. As Dr. Ratz writes in his introduction (my translation):
"This book does not attempt to rewrite the complete history of Mexico's Second Empire, but it does aim to fill several gaps in Mexican historiography by bringing forth accounts translated from the German, which because of the language barrier, have not been considered in Mexico. These are not only memoirs and diaries of the period, but also recent monographs, both published and unpublished, in German.
In 1974, the Austrian historian Adam Wandruska (1914-1997) professor at the University of Vienna and a leading expert on the history of the Habsburgs, formed a interdisciplinary group of researchers for an exhibit on "Maximilian of Mexico" at Hardegg Castle in Lower Austria. This had been the property of prince Karl von Khevenhueller, who had fought for Maximilian as commander of the Austrian hussars. Subsequently he became a friend of Porfirio Diaz. This lifelong friendship, apart from various extraofficial diplomatic contacts, greatly contributed to the resumption, in 1901, of diplomatic relations between Mexico and Austria, which had been severed in 1867... ... [In addition to these contributions by Professor Wandruska and his group of researchers, this work] covers the unpublished memoirs of the gardener and botanist Wilhelm Knechtl; the diary of Johann Stefan, first engineer on the Novara; published works on the Austrian Volunteer Corps by Edmund Daniek and on the Mexican Austrian Volunteer Corps by Felix Gamillscheg; the research by Norbert Stein on Father Fischer; a brief but essential and richly detailed work by Johann Lubienski on government institutions under Maximilian, and Felix Wilcek's thesis on Maximilian's income and expenditures in Austria.... [And] in a final chapter I have added a biographical sketch of Egon Cesar Corti, biographer of Maximilian and several other European sovereigns and dignitaries. Unfortunately, given the lack of biographical information and misunderstandings with the University of Vienna, which never offered him a professorship, the 50th anniversary of his death in 1953 went unnoticed in Mexico as well as his native country."
As Mexican historian Patricia Galeana writes in her prologue (my translation),
"...Konrad Ratz's work has great value for Mexican as well as Austrian and European historiographies on the Second Empire. He brings us new details and in such clear prose with short chapters that we may read it as a novel, though it is based on solid foundations thanks to meticulous historical research.... we discover the weaknesses and strengths of Maximilian, the romatic politician who dreamed of being the new Quetzatcoatl, Mexico's savior."
Tras las huellas de un desconocido has my highest and most enthusiastic recommendation. Indeed, no bibliography of Maximilian and the Second Empire would be complete without it.
This blog post originally appeared in a slightly different version in my blog, "Madam Mayo".
Posts
Letras Libres, one of Mexico's finest magazines, has a special section in this month's issue which includes, I am delighted to report, my own essay on Maximilian von Habsbug, "Tulpa Max. La vida después de una resurrección". ("Tulpa Max or, The Afterlife of a Resurrection.") 
