The “Novara” touched at Jamaica.  On May 28 it came in sight of the shores of Mexico, and cast anchor in the harbor of Vera Cruz.

The emperor and empress had expected a public reception.  There was nothing of the kind.  No welcome awaited them,—­not even an official one.  This was the more extraordinary because the “Themis” had been sent forward to announce the approach of the imperial party.  Their disappointment at the want of enthusiasm was great.  The French vice-admiral did his best to repair unfortunate omissions.  He gave orders for a show of festivity; but it was plain to see, from the indifference of the people in the streets, that they had no part or lot in the demonstration.

After leaving the sea-coast, Maximilian proceeded towards his capital in an old shabby English barouche, his journey seeming rather like the expedition of an adventurer than the progress of an emperor.  Passing through Orizaba and Puebla, the emperor and empress entered Mexico on June 12.  French agents had paid for flowers to be scattered in their path, and a theatrical kind of procession was prepared, which was not agreeable to either of them.  The only part of the population which hailed their coming with delight were the descendants of the Aztecs, many of whom appeared on the occasion in feather dresses preserved in their families since the time of Montezuma.  In the evening there was a public performance at the theatre in honor of the new sovereigns, but not half the boxes were filled.

The palace of Chapultepec, which had been assigned them as their residence, was destitute of comforts of any kind, and was much more like a second-class hotel than a habitation meet for princes.  Yet even here, one of Maximilian’s first cares was to layout the grounds and to plant flowers.

He was advised to make an immediate journey through his new dominions, in order to judge for himself of the aspirations and resources of the people.  But he found a country broken down by war, without roads, without schools, without agriculture.  “The only thing in this country which is well organized, sire,” said a Mexican whom he was questioning about the state of things, “is robbery.”

There was thieving everywhere.  The emperor’s palace, and even his private apartments, were not spared.  One day, after a reception of officers high in military command, his revolver, inlaid with gold and ivory, which had lain on a table by his side, disappeared, and the empress missed two watches, which had gone astray under the dexterous fingering of her maids-of-honor.  General Lopez, who was then commandant of the palace, wishing to give the emperor a proof of the accomplishments of his subjects in matters of this kind, offered to steal off his writing-table, within two hours, and without being noticed, any object agreed upon.  He said he believed he could even carry off the table,—­a joke at which the emperor laughed heartily.