Maximilian in Mexico Part 12

His first attempt was the "Cascades de Mouchy," on December 9, 1863. The representation was given at the Chateau de Mouchy, to which "all Paris"

traveled for the purpose. In the words of the "Figaro": "It was a complete mobilization of Parisian society." The Duc de Mouchy, a man of the old n.o.bility, had recently married Princess Anna Murat; and the actors as well as the audience represented the wit, talent, wealth, and power of the Second Empire.

In collaboration with Prince de Metternich, then Austrian amba.s.sador at the court of the Tuileries, and an amateur musician of no mean order, he had written the libretto of a ballet called "Le Roi d'Yvetot." This was given on the professional stage, but met with little success, if exception is made of the "first night," when again "all Paris" turned out to see the prince lead the orchestra, and to applaud the brilliant young author after the curtain fell.

In 1865 he wrote a revue, which was performed with great eclat before the court at Compiegne. In this really clever piece the princ.i.p.al occurrences of the year were touched upon and reviewed. The literary event of 1865 in France had been the publication of Napoleon's work "Les Commentaires de Cesar," and this the young courtier took as a t.i.tle for his play. Once again all the wit and beauty of the court of Eugenie united to make the occasion a brilliant tribute to the imperial historian. The Comte and Comtesse de Pourtales, the Marquis and Marquise de Gallifet, the Duc and d.u.c.h.esse de Mouchy, the Princesse de Sagan, the Marquis de Caux (who afterward married Adelina Patti), the Princesse de Metternich,--indeed, the elite of cosmopolis,--appeared upon the stage, and in clever verse and epigrammatic song amusingly dealt with the gossip of the day.

M. de Ma.s.sa's success was mainly due to the good-natured independence of his work. He told the truth to his audience, even though it might be composed of the great of the land. He chaffed the women upon their manners, and sometimes their morals, and the men upon their idleness and their evil ways. He showed up the speculative fever which, like an epidemic, had swept over the higher ranks of Parisian society under the Second Empire.* No weakness could be sure of escaping his satire. But in dealing with all this the scalpel of the cynic was concealed under the graceful touch of the man of the world. He did not a.s.sume the tone of a moralist or of a misanthrope. He was not even an observing spectator, but a good-natured enfant du siecle, a sinner among sinners, for whom life was one long comedy.

* For instance, one stanza sung by M. de St. Maurice:

"Tout les terrains, les canaux, les carrieres, Depuis le fer jusqu'au moindre metal, Les champs, les eaux, les forets, les bruyeres-- Tout represente un certain capital.

Vous le voyez la fievre est generale; Tout est matiere a speculations . . .

Tout, en effet, excepte la morale Qu'on n'a pas mise en actions."

After the return of the Corps Expeditionnaire in 1867, when the great International Exposition was attracting to Paris the princes and celebrities of the world, "Les Commentaires de Cesar" was, at the Emperor's request, repeated at the Tuileries before the crowned heads there a.s.sembled as his guests.

Notwithstanding the seething forces underlying the brilliant surface and threatening the empire's very existence, the summer of 1867, as superficially seen in Paris, must be regarded as the very apex of Napoleon's career.

The exposition was the last and most gorgeous set piece of the many Napoleonic fireworks, the splendor of which flashed through history, and ended in the dark smoke of Sedan.

The performance at the Tuileries was one of the most select entertainments arranged at this time. The troupe of aristocratic comedians was greeted with enthusiastic applause, and the popular author received an ovation from his audience of monarchs and princes such as fate never bestowed upon Beaumarchais, Marivaux, or even Moliere!

All aglow with the excitement of his social achievements, the Marquis de Ma.s.sa came to Mexico in 1866 and immediately took his place in the military household of the commander-in-chief.

As soon as he felt sufficiently posted as to the local conditions of Mexico, he went to work, and the result was a vaudeville ent.i.tled "Messieurs les Voyageurs pour Mexico, en Voiture!"

The marshal's household supplied the princ.i.p.al stars of the improvised dramatic company, the leader of the orchestra, a young Belgian officer, and the prima donna, an "American girl from Paris," as the Mexican papers had it, being brought in only as necessary adjuncts. Another important female part was taken by Albert Bazaine, who was turned into a superb soubrette.

The play was little more than a skit, and the plot--if the thin, sketchy incident that stood in its place may be called one--served only as an excuse for a continuous fusillade of local hits, often of a personal character. These not only kept the audience in a fever of merriment, but long afterward furnished Mexican official and social circles with topics for more or less friendly discussion. Some ill feeling and not a few unpleasant comments were, of course, the result of the little venture; and most of those concerned paid for their fun in some way or other.

The performance took place at San Cosme, at the house of the Vicomtesse de Noue. Maximilian, whose curiosity had been aroused, expressed a desire to have it repeated at the imperial palace; but having heard of certain unmerciful sallies made upon his financial decrees and other measures of his government, he did not attempt to disguise his displeasure. Of course the performance was not repeated.

No harm whatever was intended; but, looking back upon the incident, one can see that the hits, if innocently meant, coming as they did from the marshal's household, were certainly lacking in discretion. Indeed, when one considers the serious dissensions then existing between the quartier-general and the palace, it becomes clear that such jests must have had upon the court the effect of the banderillas which, in a bull-fight, by a refinement of cruelty, are stuck in the quivering flesh of the baited bull, doomed from the start, and teased to the bitter end.

Among the verses of an interminable topical song, one contained a reference to the newly organized regiment, the "Cazadores de Mejico,"

the recruiting of which was then taxing to the utmost Maximilian's energies:

Parmi les corps que l'on vient d'etablir Les Cazadors sont de tous les plus braves; Mais, c'est egal, au moment de choisir J'aimerais miens m'engager dans les Zouaves!

These lines afterward a.s.sumed a strangely prophetic importance. Six months later, during the siege of Queretaro, this same regiment of Cazadores, composed of Frenchmen, Germans, and Hungarians, with about one fourth of native Mexican soldiers, was placed, with four twelve-pounders, under the command of Prince Salm-Salm. They were, according to their colonel, a wild, brawling set, constantly fighting among themselves, but ready enough to do their duty under fire.

It would seem that, after a sortie during which they had specially distinguished themselves, the Emperor visited the lines, and paused to praise their bravery. Whether or not the sting contained in M. de Ma.s.sa's words had impressed them upon his mind, it is, of course, impossible to tell; but in a stirring proclamation Maximilian called them the "Zouaves of Mexico," a compliment which was received by the men with deafening shouts of enthusiasm. This account, as I read it after the final catastrophe, awoke a memory; and I found myself unconsciously humming the bit of satire upon these brave fellows, most of whom were now lying cold and stiff under the sky of Queretaro:

"Mais, c'est egal, au moment de choisir J'aimerais mieux m'engager dans les Zouaves!"

Ah me, how closely the ridiculous here approached the sublime! How rapidly tragedy had followed upon comedy!

The first colonel of the Cazadores, Paolino Lamadrid, was in the audience that evening. He was a pleasant-looking man, noted for his great skill in the national sports, especially with the lazo. He was brave, kindly, obliging, and one of the few Mexican officers who were honestly friendly to the French. He entered into the spirit of the thing, understood the joke, and took no offense. He had lent for the occasion his Mexican dress, sombrero, chapareras, etc., for the character of a Mexicanized French colonist who, after a series of Mexican adventures, had returned to France and to his family laden with Mexican millions.

Colonel Paolino Lamadrid did not live to stand by his sovereign in the last heroic hour of the empire. He was killed early in January, in an unimportant engagement at Cuernavaca, one of Maximilian's favorite residences, situated some fifty miles from Mexico, and which had already fallen into the hands of the Juarists.

Colonel Lamadrid was ordered to recapture the town. He fell into an ambush, and after a brave struggle was shot down. His troops held their ground, and before retreating next day they recovered his body, which had been badly mutilated and was only identified by his fine and silky black beard, which formed one of his most striking features.* It is said that one of the early hallucinations of the unfortunate Empress, on her way to Rome, was that she saw Colonel Lamadrid lurking about, disguised as an organ-grinder.

* D'Hericault, pp. 82, 83.

But to return to this now historic entertainment. The general situation was summed up finally in a serio-comic manner in a song which, if it then brought down the house, afterward drew severe criticism upon the thoughtless heads of author and performers:

Oui, cette terre Hospitaliere Un jour sera, c'est moi qui vous le dis, Pour tout le monde L'arche feconde Des gens de coeur et des colons hardis.

Que faut-il donc pour cesser nos alarmes?

De bons soldats et de bons generaux, De bons prefets et surtout des gendarmes, Des financiers et des gardes ruraux.

Refrain: Allons courage, Vite a l'ouvrage; La France est la pour nous preter secours.

Vieux incredules, Sots ridicules, De nos travaux n'entravez pas le cours.

This song, pledging France to back up Mexican enterprise in every venture, may serve to show how ignorant all were at this time of the sudden determination taken by the Tuileries to set aside the agreement of July 30, 1866, and to put an immediate end to the intervention.

It was written by a member of the marshal's military household, and the refrain was sung by a chorus of the marshal's officers, in the presence of the marshal himself, and of a large audience composed of French, Austrian, and Belgian officers, as well as of members of the imperial government, on September 26, 1866, i.e., just at the time when General Castelnau, who landed at Vera Cruz on October 10, was starting on his mission, the object of which was to force the abdication of Maximilian, and to bring about the winding up of the empire and the immediate return of the army.

At this very time, it will be remembered, a contract was being entered upon by the French government with the house of Pereire, which was to furnish immediate home transportation for the French army.*

* Bigelow, letter to Seward, October 12, 1866.

The song was not meant to be the cruel jest which it must have seemed to those about the Mexican Emperor who were better informed with regard to Napoleon's negotiations with the government of the United States. By those whose all was at stake it must have been taken for a wanton insult.

Indeed, society in Mexico was not just then in the right frame of mind to appreciate M. de Ma.s.sa's witticisms. Even among his own friends they proved singularly infelicitous.

The displeasure of Madame la Marechale, whose youth and beauty were then superior to her sense of humor, was aroused by a verse the timeworn wit of which she seemed unable to appreciate, and in which she saw an insult to her people:

Le roi Henri, qui detestait l'impot, Des Mexicains aurait bien fait l'affaire, Au lieu de poule, un zopilote an pot: Voila l'moyen de devenir populaire!

The zoplote, although protected by law as a scavenger, is held as unclean by the Mexicans, who would almost starve rather than eat it; and the suggestion, taken seriously and indignantly resented by Mme.

Bazaine, created quite a ripple of disturbance in the marshal's family.

The following incident also swelled the ranks of M. de Ma.s.sa's French critics:

Before the performance gossip had been busy with it, and its source had partly been traced to Colonel Pet.i.t, a good enough friend, but who at the time happened to be chafing under the sting of a practical joke, recently played upon him by some of his comrades, in which M. de Ma.s.sa had had a share.

During the recent campaign made by the marshal in the interior, with a view to the concentration of the army preparatory to its retreat, Colonel Pet.i.t, with his regiment, arrived at a small town, the authorities of which prepared to receive the French with due honor.

Eager for fun, his comrades confidentially disclosed to the alcalde the fact that Colonel Pet.i.t was a great personage--indeed, no less than the son of the celebrated General Pet.i.t whom Napoleon, about to depart for Elba, and taking leave of his veterans, had singled out and embraced as the representative of the Grande Armee.

I do not remember whether the mischievous wags suggested to the alcalde, a pure Indian wearing sombrero, shirt, and white calzoneras, a repet.i.tion of the solemn scene of Fontainebleau, or whether the worthy Indian evolved the notion unaided; but the result was that poor Colonel Pet.i.t, much against his will, found himself forced into playing a parody of his father's part to the alcalde's Napoleon. In the presence of his men, amid the jeers and cheers of his amused comrades, he had to submit to the speech and public accolade of the worthy magistrate.

The perpetrators of this pleasantry did not soon allow him to forget it.

It long remained a sore thing with him; and as he allowed his resentment to appear, an extra verse was on the day of the performance added, for his benefit, to the princ.i.p.al topical song:

A Mexico les cancans vont leur train, On vous cond.a.m.ne avant de vous entendre, C'est bien "pet.i.t" d'ereinter son prochain, Bon entendeur saura bien nous comprendre.

As this was sung the audience laughingly turned toward him--a fact which did not tend to make him more amiably disposed, although he bowed gracefully enough, and pretended to enjoy the fun.