PART IV.

THE AWAKENING

I. "A CLOUD NO BIGGER THAN A MAN'S HAND"

On March 10,1865, the Duc de Morny died. He had been the moving spirit

in the Mexican imbroglio, and it would be difficult to believe that the

withdrawal of the prompter did not have a weakening effect upon the

performance. His death, by removing one of the strongest influences in

favor of the intervention, not only in the Corps Legislatif and at

court, but in the financial world, was certainly one of the many

untoward circumstances which helped to hasten the end.

In France, the elections of 1863 and 1864 had added strength to the

opposition. It now insisted upon being heard. Not only had the

discussions of the budget in the Chamber of Deputies brought out with

painful clearness the weight of the burden assumed by France, but

private letters written by intelligent officers were gradually

enlightening public opinion upon the true condition of affairs in

Mexico. Some of these letters had even found their way to the Tuileries.

Public feeling was beginning to express in uncompromising tones the

conviction that the government must relinquish an onerous task, the

impossibility of accomplishing which was becoming patent. It was even

openly suggested that the Tuileries must combine with "Washington for

the purpose of establishing in Mexico a form of government acceptable to

the latter".*

* See "Revue des Deux Mondes," 1865, vol. lviii, p. 776; also vol. lvii,

pp. 768, 1018.

The writer of M. de Moray's obituary notice in the "Revue des Deux

Mondes"* boldly asked whether the duke, who was always fortunate, and to

whom success had become a habit, had not died opportunely. He left the

question for the future to decide. The answer was not long delayed.**

* Ibid., 1865, vol. lvi, p. 501.

** And yet M. Rouher, in April, 1865, speaking for the French government

in the Corps Legislatif, still affirmed that "France would continue to

protect Mexico until the full consolidation of its undertaking" (ibid,

vol. lvi, p. 1065).

The inauguration of the Mexican empire had been officially announced to

the chambers by the government in the following terms: "The results

obtained in 1862 and 1863 by our Corps Expeditionnaire in Mexico have,

in 1864, received a solemn consecration under the protection of the flag

of France. A regular government has been founded in that country,

heretofore for more than fifty years delivered up to anarchy and

intestine dissensions. In the beginning of the month of June the Emperor

Maximilian took possession of the throne, and, sustained by our army, he

inaugurated in all security an era of peace and prosperity for his new

country."

Jules Favre pertinently asked: "Since Maximilian is established; since

Maximilian is the Messiah announced in all time past; since he is really

the man both for the Indians and the Spaniards, who receive him with

acclamation; since he meets on his passage only with bouquets from the

senoritas--let our soldiers return. What have they to do in Mexico! They

are not needed, and can only be an obstacle in the way of that entire

unanimity of feeling that exists between the prince and the nation." He

stated that rumors were reaching France of fierce battles, of martial

law, of prisoners of war shot, of villages burned, holding up as an

example San Sebastian, in Sinaloa, a town of four thousand souls, which

had been entirely burned and destroyed by General Castagny during his

campaign against Romero and in the name of Emperor Maximilian,* and then

he proceeded to show the ghastly farce that had been enacted behind

these words, in the light cast upon it by the blaze of the ill-fated

town; "Why this discrepancy between the official statements as to the

pacification of Mexico, the unanimous consent to Maximilian's elevation

to the throne, and the facts, i.e., the country under martial law, and

the French army, marching, torch in hand, protecting one party and

punishing the other by the wholesale destruction of life and property?

Why did such contradiction exist between the official statements as to

universal suffrage, the freedom of the press, the unanimity of sentiment

in Mexico, and the fact that journalists were being brought, in the name

of the Emperor, before a council of war and condemned to various

penalties for having expressed their criticism of such wholesale

executions?"

* "Mexicans! I have come in the name of the Emperor Maximilian into the

state of Sinaloa, to establish peace therein, to protect property, and

to deliver you from the malefactors who oppress you under the mask of

liberty," said General Castagny in his proclamation.

He resumed by calling attention to the renewed postponement of the

ministry's promises with regard to the withdrawal of the army, and to

its broken pledge that it would retire when Maximilian's throne was

established and a proper impetus had been given to the work of

regeneration. For the accomplishment of these ends, said the orator, a

sacrifice of forty thousand men and a yearly expenditure of four or five

millions would be needed for ten years to come.

In words which now sound prophetic he eloquently referred to Napoleon I

and to his Spanish campaign, likewise undertaken under the pretense of

regenerating a nation. "The mighty man who had conceived such projects,"

he cried, "all know where they led him. On April 14, 1814, the sentence

of deposition thus expressed the motives of the Senate for deposing him:

'WHEREAS, Napoleon Bonaparte has undertaken a series of wars in

violation of Article L of the Constitution of the 22d Frimaire, year 8,

which provides that declarations of war must be proposed, discussed, and

promulgated like laws; WHEREAS, The liberty of the press, established

and consecrated as one of the rights of nations, has been constantly

subject to the arbitrary 164 censorship of the police,'" etc., and as he

closed his argument he said:

"After a thorough study of all the facts in the case, political,

military, and financial, it is impossible for any one seriously to

believe that the government of Maximilian can exist without our army.

With our army, I acknowledge it, his throne would rest upon an

agreement, it would last as long as our assistance should be extended to

it, but if you withdraw this assistance it is evident that it will be

overthrown. If, therefore, you wish to establish it firmly, our army

must remain in Mexico: the Chamber should understand this thoroughly."

Only thirteen members of the Chamber voted against the appropriation for

the maintenance of the Corps Expeditionnaire; but it has been pointed

out, and it is only fair to believe, that many voted for it who, as

Frenchmen, felt that the government, blameworthy as it might be, should

not be compelled suddenly to abandon an adventure in which the honor of

France was involved. French patience, however, was fast nearing its

limit, and when, in 1864, Maximilian accepted the crown, he must have

realized that French support could not be indefinitely counted upon.

The millions raised through the Mexican loans had been carelessly

administered and lavishly spent. What with the expenses of the court,

extensive alterations in the imperial residences, especially in

Chapultepec, and the outlay incidental to the pageants and ovations of

the Emperor's journeys in the provinces, the relief brought by the loans

had been brief.

Confidence was waning. The incapacity of Maximilian was becoming

generally recognized, and the difficulties inherent in the situation

were everywhere growing clearer.

Maximilian had alienated Borne, whose censure he had drawn upon himself

by his effort to conciliate the moderate party. He had aroused the

resentment of the priests and brought upon himself the remonstrances of

the bishops, and had set aside, or sent to foreign posts, the leaders of

the party to whom he owed his crown. Yet he had not succeeded in winning

over from the Liberal party any very important adhesions to his

government.

Cardinal Antonelli, in a letter dated December 27, 1864, after setting

forth the grievances of the holy see, stated that the Holy Father hoped

that Maximilian in abandoning the course marked out in his letter to the

minister, Senor Escudero, would "spare the holy see the necessity of

taking proper measures to set right in the eyes of the world the

responsibility of the august chief of the church--measures of which the

least, certainly, would not be the recall of the pontifical

representative in Mexico, in order that he may not remain there a

powerless spectator of the spoliation of the church and of the violation

of its most sacred rights."*

* "Diplomatic Correspondence," 1865, Part III, p. 623.

It is difficult to understand why Maximilian had not negotiated the

terms of a concordat with the holy see when he went to Rome to receive

the Pope's blessing before leaving Europe for his new dominions. The

adjustment of existing differences between church and state formed the

most urgent as well as the most vital issue to be met by the young

Emperor, as upon the settlement of the vexed question of ownership in

clergy property must depend the restoration of business confidence and

of prosperity in the empire. The pretensions advanced by the papal

nuncio sent by the Vatican to arrange for a concordat now proved so

exorbitant that Maximilian had been compelled to decline to consider

them, and he and the holy see had failed to come to terms. The final and

official rupture with Monsignor Meglia took place in December, 1864. It

was made public in a decree issued by Maximilian which proclaimed that

papal bulls should not receive exequatur until approved by the chief

executive.

The fact was that the party through which the French and Maximilian had

been called to Mexico was the unpopular retroactive party; that, in

order to exist, Maximilian had been obliged to recognize the measures

enacted against his own partizans by the national party; that in so

doing he had disappointed the priests; that in setting aside the leaders

of the clerical party he had estranged his strongest adherents; and all

this without making any serious headway with his antagonists, who would

have no emperor, no monarchy, no foreigner.

The success of the intervention was now clearly seen to depend upon a

war systematically conducted against an enemy that represented a

national sentiment.

On January 23, 1865, the governments of Chili, Bolivia, Salvador,

Colombia, Peru, and Venezuela formed a defensive alliance against

exterior aggression and for the guaranty of their respective autonomy.

The treaty was signed in Lima by the representatives of the nations

interested.

But a far more serious danger was threatening the empire in the North.

On April 9, 1865, General Lee surrendered to the Federal army. The Civil

War in the United States was at an end, and the French were beginning to

understand that the Northern republic, whose unbroken unity stood

strengthened, could no longer remain a passive spectator of the struggle

taking place at its frontier.

The scene of military interest suddenly shifted to the Rio Grande, and

the incidents happening on the border deserved more attention than

Maximilian seemed at first inclined to bestow.

The interests of the national party were represented in Washington by

Senor Romero, who, with consummate tact and ability, made the most of

every opportunity. The service rendered by him to the cause of

republicanism and of Mexican independence was second to none in

importance. No detail seemed too trifling to be turned to account in his

effort to strengthen the Mexican cause with our government.

A rumor reached us that President Juarez had succeeded in raising a loan

in the United States. The ranks of the Liberal army were receiving

important reinforcements from the officers and men of General Banks's

command, who passed the border in large numbers to take part in the

attack of General Cortinas at Matamoros. Already, in January, 1865, the

impulse given to the Republican party in the North vibrated throughout

the land. Soon resistance everywhere appeared in arms once more. Both

General Mejia and Admiral Cloue, then in command of the French Gulf

Squadron, complained that the United States army afforded protection to

the Juarists.

Recruiting-offices had been opened in New York, which, although not

countenanced by the government, must have furnished valuable auxiliaries

to the Liberals. Alarming rumors reached France and Mexico with regard

to the extent of the movement.

On the other hand, the negotiations then being carried on between

Napoleon and Maximilian, with a view to securing the Mexican debt to

France by a lien upon the mines of Sonora, were causing uneasiness in

the United States, and gave rise to considerable diplomatic

correspondence.*

* See, in this connection, "Diplomatic Correspondence," 1865, Part III,

pp. 357-363, 417, and letter of Secretary Seward addressed to Mr.

Bigelow, February 17, 1865.

It required no wizard to foretell the issue. After the surrender of

General Lee, a Confederate army-corps, twenty-five thousand strong,

acting through General Slaughter, had opened negotiations with Marshal

Bazaine, with a view to passing the border and settling in northern

Mexico, provided suitable terms were granted by the Mexican government

to the new colonists. It was then becoming clear to many that the

halfway policy hitherto followed had led to nothing, and must result in

a useless sacrifice of life and millions unless a larger force were

maintained by the French in Mexico, or some barrier set up against the

naturally dominant position taken by the United States with regard to

Mexican affairs.

In June, 1865, Generals Kirby Smith, Magruder, Shelby, Slaughter,

Walker, A. W. Terrell of Texas, Governor Price of Missouri, General

Wilcox of Tennessee, Commodore Maury of Virginia, General Hindman of

Arkansas, Governor Reynolds of Georgia, Judge Perkins, Colonel Denis,

and Mr. Pierre Soule of Louisiana, Major Mordecai of North Carolina, and

others, had come to Mexico. With them had passed over the frontier

horses, artillery, everything that could be transported, including large

and small bands of Confederate soldiers, and some two thousand citizens

who left the United States with the intention of colonizing Sonora.

Confederate officers now flocked to Mexico with a view to making new

homes for themselves. Many of them were interested in special schemes by

which the agricultural wealth of the land might be made to yield its

treasure to the ruined but experienced Southern planters.

My mother being a Southern woman, and knowing some of their leaders, our

house soon became a center where they gathered in the evening and freely

discussed their hopes. Thus was added a new element to the already

motley assemblage which collected about us at that time. Truly a most

heterogeneous set! Confederate officers, members of the diplomatic

corps, newly fledged chamberlains and officials of the palace, the

marshal's officers,--Frenchmen, Austrians, Belgians, and a few

Mexicans,--would drop in, each group bringing its own interests, and,

alas! its animosities.

Laws against foreigners having been passed, no property could henceforth

be held by them unless they became naturalized. Some of the Confederate

refugees therefore became Mexican citizens, and took service under the

Mexican government. Governor Price, for instance, received authorization

to recruit the imperial army in the Confederacy. He and Governor Harris

of Tennessee and Judge Perkins of Louisiana were appointed agents of

colonization, and immediately set to work upon the survey of the region

lying between Mexico and Vera Cruz, with a view to furthering this

purpose. General Magruder, the ex-commander-in-chief of the Confederate

forces in Texas, having also become naturalized, was placed in charge of

the survey of the lands set aside for colonization as chief of the

Colonization Land Office. The government sold such land to colonists for

the nominal consideration of one dollar an acre, and allowed every head

of a family to purchase six hundred and forty acres upon a credit of

five years. A single man was allowed three hundred and twenty acres.

Not only the government, but large landowners, proposed such free

grants, and offered every inducement to settlers, if they would come and

develop the agricultural resources of the country. The first Confederate

settlement was established near Cordoba in the autumn of 1865.

Commodore Maury, now a naturalized Mexican citizen, had in September

been appointed imperial commissioner of immigration and councilor of

state. He opened an office in the Calle San Juan de Lateran, and was

authorized to establish agencies in the Southern States.* But the

indecision and weakness of Maximilian prevented his taking full

advantage of the opportunity then offered to strengthen the empire. The

delay caused by a vacillating policy discouraged the would-be colonists,

and before long the flood of immigration was checked.

* See decrees signed by Maximilian and the minister of the interior, D.

Luis Robles Pezuela, on September 24 and 27.

General Charles P. Stone had come to Mexico with a colonization scheme

of his own. He had, in 1859, made a survey of Sonora under the Jecker

contract. He now was on his way to look after some of the Jecker claims

when accident threw him on board of the steamer with Dr. William M.

Gwin, ex-senator for California. The two men at once came to an

understanding and joined forces.

In 1856 (December 19), two years after the filibustering expedition of

Count Raousset de Boulbon, the house of Jecker had obtained from the

Mexican government the right to survey the territories of Sonora and

southern California. The conditions were that one third of the unclaimed

land should become the property of the house of Jecker.

In 1859 the Liberal government had rescinded the grant, and this had

added one more grievance to those which the Swiss banker had brought up

against the administration of Juarez. No sooner had Sonora sent in its

adhesion to the empire than Jecker proposed to the French government to

make over his rights against a payment of two million dollars.

The plan was then to colonize Sonora and Lower California, establishing,

on behalf of France, a right to exploit the mines. The climate was

healthful, the land rich, the adventure tempting; but it had the great

drawback of running foul of the most acute Mexican susceptibilities. Not

only did such pretensions at that time excite the suspicions of the

Mexicans with regard to the disinterestedness of the French alliance,

but they were calculated to give umbrage to the United States

government.

As early as 1863, Napoleon III had discussed the possibility of

establishing in Sonora* a colony which should develop the mining and

agricultural wealth of the state. In exchange for a grant of unclaimed

national lands, these colonists were to pay a percentage of their

proceeds to France, as well as a tax to the Mexican government.

* Chihuahua, Durango, and Sinaloa eventually were also included in the

scheme.

A colony of armed Confederates, inimical to the Federal government of

the United States, established between its dominions and the heart of

the Mexican empire, and backed by France, Austria, and Belgium, must

form a formidable bulwark in case of trouble between Mexico and its

Northern neighbor. There is small doubt that some such plan had formed a

part of the original "deal" proposed by Jecker to the French leaders.

In the spring of 1864 unauthorized attempts had been made by Californian

immigrants to land at Guaymas and settle upon certain lands granted them

by President Juarez. The marshal had sent French troops to protect the

province from such inroads, treating these intruders as squatters. This

had furnished a reason for the military occupation of Sonora; thus was

the first step taken in the realization of the project.

Such was, in rough outline, the position of the Sonora colonization

question when Dr. Gwin entered upon the scene. Upon his arrival in

Mexico, he applied at headquarters for an audience. The marshal,

although in full sympathy with the project, realized the danger of its

open discussion at that time. Maximilian and his advisers were opposed

to it. Much tact and secrecy seemed, therefore, necessary in the conduct

of negotiations having for their object the furtherance of so unpopular

a scheme. Dr. Gwin was too conspicuous a figure to pass unnoticed the

portals of the French headquarters. An informal interview was therefore

arranged.

We then lived at Tacubaya, a suburb of Mexico reached by the Paseo,

where the marshal rode every day for exercise. Our house was built at

the foot of a long hill, at the top of which stood a large old mansion,

the yellow coloring of which had won for it the name of the Casa

Amarilla. It had been rented by Colonel Talcott of Virginia, who lived

there with his family. Dr. Gwin was their guest; and it was arranged

that the marshal, when taking his usual afternoon ride with his

aide-de-camp, should call upon us one day, and leaving the horses in our

patio with his orderlies, should join us in a walk up the hill, casually

dropping in en passant at the Casa Amarilla.

The plan had the double advantage of being a simple one and of providing

the marshal, who did not speak English, with suitable interpreters. The

interview was a long one. The marshal listened to what the American had

to say. Indeed, there was little to be said on his own side, as the

Mexican ministry was absolutely opposed to the project, and any change

of policy must depend upon a change in the imperial cabinet.

His Excellency, however, seemed in high good humor. As we came out, he

merrily challenged us to run downhill, much to the astonishment of the

few leperos whom we happened to meet. The Mexican Indian is a sober,

rather somber creature, not given to levity; his amusements are of a

dignified, almost sad nature. He may be sentimental, bigoted, vicious,

cruel, but he is never vulgar, and is seldom foolish. Indeed, well might

they stare at us then, for it was no common sight in the lanes of

Tacubaya to see a commander-in-chief tearing downhill, amid peals of

laughter, with a party of young people, in utter disregard of age,

corpulence, and cumbersome military accoutrements!

The personality of Dr. Gwin was a strong one. A tall, broad, squarely

built man, with rough features which seemed hewn out of a block with an

ax, ruddy skin, and a wealth of white hair brushed back from his brow,

all combined to make him by far the most striking figure among the group

of Southern leaders then assembled in Mexico.

His own faith in the almightiness of his will influenced others, and in

this case brought him very near to success. He talked willingly and

fluently of his plans. Notwithstanding the decided opposition met with

on the part of the Mexican government, he then confidently expected to

be installed in the new colony by the opening of the year, and invited

his friends to eat their Christmas dinner with him there. He was

generous in sharing his prospects with them. We all were to be taken in

and made wealthy: every dollar invested was to return thousands, every

thousand, millions!

It was entertaining to hear him narrate his interviews at the Tuileries

with Napoleon III and the other great men of the day. His tone was that

of a potentate treating with his peers. He spoke of "my policy," "my

colony," "my army," etc.

In 1865 Dr. Gwin again went to Prance to confer with its ruler. Upon his

return to Mexico, he was regarded as the unofficial agent of the French

government. The Emperor had promised him every facility and assistance.

All that was now needed to make his dreams a brilliant reality was the

signature of Maximilian. He was full of glowing anticipations. But

Maximilian, who at the time was none too friendly to his allies, stood

firm.* However much the French might urge it, the national feeling was

already strongly arrayed against any plan involving the possible

alienation of any part of the Mexican territory. Moreover, it was

becoming obvious, from the various complications occurring upon the Rio

Grande, that the befriending of the Confederate refugees must henceforth

seriously add to the difficulty of obtaining the recognition of the

Mexican empire by the United States--an end which Maximilian had greatly

at heart, and one which, strangely enough, he never lost the hope of

accomplishing, so little did he, even after two years' residence in

Mexico, understand American conditions.

* Later he laid stress upon his attitude with regard to this. In the

memorandum written by him for the use of his lawyers at his trial in

vindication of his conduct, he urged as a claim to Mexican leniency his

firm resistance to French pretensions concerning the disposal of Sonora,

and his loyal effort to maintain the integrity of the Mexican territory,

and declared that this drew upon him the hostility of the French. See S.

Basch, "Erinnerungen aus Mexico." (This interesting document is not

given in the French edition.)

On June 26, 1865, Marshal Bazaine was married to Mlle. de la Pena. The

Emperor and Empress expressed a wish that the ceremony and wedding

breakfast should take place at the imperial palace. No effort was spared

by them to make the occasion a memorable one: Empress Charlotte bestowed

upon the bride a set of diamonds; the Emperor gave her as a dowry the

palace of San Cosme, a noble residence, valued at one hundred thousand

dollars, where the French had established their headquarters since the

beginning of the intervention. Every one was in good humor, many polite

assurances of appreciation and good will were exchanged on both sides,

and for a while it seemed as though harmony might be restored among the

leaders. But this pleasant state of affairs was of short duration. The

difficulties inherent in the situation were too conspicuous, and the

causes of ill feeling were too deeply laid, to be overcome by other than

superior men. Notwithstanding a superficial improvement in Mexican

conditions, it was becoming patent in the summer of 1865 that nothing

short of a miracle could save all concerned from disaster and

humiliation.

In those days, our social circle varied from year to year according to

the political and military conditions of the hour. Occasionally the

arrival of some distinguished newcomer on a special mission from abroad

would create a stir among us.

The advent, toward the close of the year 1865, of M. Langlais, the fifth

financier sent by Napoleon III to organize the finances of the empire,

caused considerable excitement and aroused the hopes of the court. His

appointment to succeed M. de Bonnefons had been heralded by the French

official papers with much pomposity.

He came ostensibly to act as minister of finance (without a portfolio),

at an enormous salary, and was supposed, by those who sent him, to take

the full direction of Mexican financial affairs.

He was a councilor of state, and was possessed large experience of

French politics. A ministerial official, methodical, precise, fresh from

the well-appointed offices of the French government, he arrived at Vera

Cruz just as a guerrilla band, after taking up the rails of the only

railway then laid upon Mexican soil, had attacked a train and massacred

its escort of French soldiers.

The poor man's stereotyped ideas of existence were considerably shaken

up by the occurrence; but he was a firm believer in his own capacity,

and was disposed to attribute the failures of his predecessors to their

inferiority to himself. He won the confidence and personal regard of the

young sovereigns, and unhesitatingly undertook to raise the public

revenue, then of eighty-four millions of dollars, to one hundred and

twenty millions. How far he might have gone toward fulfilling his

promise it is impossible to tell, for he died suddenly on February 23,

1866.*

* M. Langlais is stated to have said that he was working to give

Maximilian the chance to abdicate honorably; but the favor in which he

was held at court makes such a statement doubtful.

His death was a blow to the court, where he stood in high favor. The

Empress Charlotte especially is said to have detected in it the finger

of a fate adverse to the empire. This calamity was soon followed by

another, well calculated to cast the gloom of a dark shadow across the

path of the young princess.

Her father, King Leopold I, had died December 10, 1865. Upon his

accession to the throne, her brother, King Leopold II, sent a special

embassy to the court of Mexico to make an official announcement of his

reign. The ambassador, General Foury, arrived with his suite on February

14, 1866, and, having fulfilled his mission, departed on March 4. During

their brief visit to the capital, the Belgian envoys had been freely

entertained by society. It was, therefore, with a thrill of horror that,

on the day following their departure, the news came that their party had

been attacked and fired upon by highwaymen at Rio Frio, a few leagues

from the capital, and that Baron d'Huart, officier d'ordonnance of the

Count of Flanders, had been shot in the head and killed. Four other

members of the embassy were wounded. Consternation reigned at court. The

Emperor went to Rio Frio to see personally to the comfort of the wounded

and to bring back the body of Baron d'Huart, whose solemn obsequies were

conducted in the most impressive manner.

The news of this tragedy, when it reached Europe, must have cast a flash

of lurid light upon the true condition of the Mexican empire.

During the winter of 1866 Napoleon III sent Baron Saillard upon a

special mission to prepare Maximilian for the gradual withdrawal of the

French army, and to intimate to him that he must not depend upon a

continuance of present conditions. The envoy, however, failed to make

upon the prince the impression which it was intended that he should

make. Maximilian received him only twice, and rather resented his

warnings. His visit only added to the coldness of the young Emperor's

relations with the French.

Shortly afterward General Almonte was sent to France on a mission, the

object of which, was to influence Napoleon to continue his support. The

only result of his errand was a communication addressed to Maximilian,

dated May 31, 1866. In this Napoleon stated the situation with a

frankness the brutality of which aroused the indignation of the court of

Mexico. An onerous agreement was nevertheless arrived at, to which

necessity compelled Maximilian to subscribe (July 30). By this

agreement, half of the revenue derived from the customs of Tampico and

Vera Cruz was to be assigned to the French in payment of the debt until

the entire outlay made on behalf of the Mexican empire had been repaid.

The French, in return, promised to continue their support until November

1, 1867, and to withdraw their army in three detachments, the last of

which would embark on that date. The imperial government was thereby

deprived of half of its reliable revenue at a time when, in order to

maintain its existence under the present stress, large additional

resources should have been at its command.*

* See Appendix B.

The years 1865 and 1866 had been spent in administrative experiments. At

first French officers detached from the service were placed in the

various departments of the government as undersecretaries, in the hope

of bringing about an honest and efficient organization without giving

undue umbrage to the Mexicans. Members of the marshal's own household

served thus in the War Department and in the Emperor's military office.

But the efforts of the French to introduce regularity into the various

offices of the administration were so hampered that, even had the task

been an easy one, it is not likely that much could have been

accomplished. They had everything against them, even their allies and

the monarch whom they wished to serve.

When, however, in 1866, the situation was found to be desperate, the

Emperor, seriously alarmed, became more earnest and called the French to

the rescue. Colonel Loysel was made chief of the military office of the

Emperor, and the full control of the departments of War and of Finance

was given respectively to Colonel Osmont, the chief of staff of the

Corps Expeditionnaire, and to M. Friant, the chief of its commissariat.

But at this time there was not a dollar in the treasury; the sources of

imperial revenue were daily diminishing; and the expenses of the

government were now paid by the marshal out of the French treasury,

under his own responsibility. The hour had been allowed to go by when

organization was possible.

The marshal felt--and this feeling was shared by others--that neither

Colonel Osmont nor M. Friant should have accepted a position of trust

impossible to fill with credit at a time when France had resolved to

withdraw its support from Maximilian. Their action was attributed to

personal motives. The marshal declined to cooperate with or to help

them, and they became an additional source of trouble. Later on, when,

the Liberal cabinet having withdrawn, Maximilian once more turned to the

reactionary party and called to power the clericals, he retained the

above-mentioned Frenchmen in their departments. This affectation of

confidence only added to the general ill feeling.

Under the conditions of open hostility then existing between the French

and Mexican governments the interests of each were too wide apart for

such a connection to continue without danger. A request from the

commander-in-chief to MM. Osmont and Friant that they choose between

their present ministerial functions and their respective positions in

the Corps Expeditionnaire gave rise to a correspondence between the

marshal and the Emperor, in the course of which the aggressive

insistence of the latter compelled the former to refer the matter to the

home government.

M. Drouyn de Lhuys upheld the marshal. And well it was that he did, for

just then Mr. Seward, in a diplomatic note to M. de Montholon, under

date of August 16, 1866,* peremptorily called his attention to the fact

that the presence of the two French officers in the imperial cabinet was

calculated to interfere with the good relations existing between France

and the United States.

* "Diplomatic Correspondence," 1866, Part I, p. 381 et seq.

As a result of this communication, the marshal was censured by his

government for not having at once prevented the above-mentioned officers

from accepting their respective portfolios. The irritation on all sides

was painfully visible.

II. LA DEBACLE

Matamoros had fallen in July, 1866. Now, while preparing for the

difficult task of withdrawing his troops in the presence of an advancing

army, the marshal sought not only to obey the instructions of the home

government, but to serve the empire by concentrating its defense within

possible limits and by placing between it and the northern frontier a

natural barrier of wilderness in which "neither friend nor toe could

easily subsist."*

* Letter of Bazaine to Maximilian, Peotillos, August 12, 1866.

The movement was not only planned in order to facilitate the country's

defense against the Liberal forces, but also to guard against any

possible aggression on the part of its formidable Northern neighbor

after the withdrawal of the French army. This eminently prudent strategy

was, however, irritating to Maximilian, who complained of it in the

bitterest terms.

Article I of the preamble of the treaty of Miramar, signed in April,

1864, provided that "the French troops actually in Mexico shall, as soon

as possible, be reduced to a corps of twenty-five thousand men,

including the foreign legion." This corps was temporarily to remain in

order to protect the interests in which the French intervention had been

undertaken, but under the following conditions:

ARTICLE II. The French troops shall gradually evacuate Mexico as H. M.

the Emperor of Mexico shall be able to organize the troops necessary to

take their place.

ARTICLE III. The foreign legion in the service of France, composed of

eight thousand men, shall, however, remain for six years in Mexico after

all other French forces shall have been recalled under Article II. From

that date said legion shall pass into the service and pay of the Mexican

government, the Mexican government reserving unto itself the right to

shorten the duration of the employment in Mexico of the foreign legion.

Permission had been granted to French officers to take service in this

legion. Recruits were also expected from Europe, and twelve hundred

Austrians, on the eve of embarking at St. Nazaire, were stopped only by

the peremptory interference of the United States.* Various army-corps

had been formed, officered by foreigners, among whom were some good

French and Austrian officers. Much interest had at first been shown in

the scheme; and the new army, its recruits, its uniforms and equipment,

furnished society with a fruitful theme for conversation. For a time it

had seemed as though it might be possible to so strengthen the empire as

to enable it to stand without French official assistance. In 1866,

however, Napoleon formally instructed the marshal to advance no more

funds and to pay only the auxiliary troops. The Mexican army might

dissolve. The French, on withdrawing, would leave the Austro-Belgian

corps and the foreign legion,--i.e., some fifteen thousand men,--upon

which the empire must depend. Under the new arrangement the

Austro-Belgian soldiers were to receive the same pay as the

French,--that is, about one half the amount formerly paid them,--and

were once more placed under French control.**

* See "Diplomatic Correspondence," May, 1866, Part I, p. 305 et seq.

** Maximilian's proclamation to the auxiliary troops that they should

henceforth form one and the same division "with their companions in

arms" was dated May 19, 1866.

Dissatisfaction prevailed, and the very worst spirit was manifested on

all sides. After continued ill feeling, in August, 1866, Comte de Thun

sent in his resignation and returned to Europe, leaving Colonel

Kodolitch in command.

The Belgian corps mutinied, and the ringleaders having been discharged,

the disbanded men were incorporated into new mixed regiments.*

* Order given through General Neigre, July 8, 1866. The adjustment with

the Austrians was no easier. An effort was made to induce the French to

advance the pay for the auxiliary corps without proper accounts being

submitted. To this, of course, they could not consent; and it was

whispered that the affair resulted in the exposure of peculations on the

part of certain individuals, whose resignation from the service General

de Thun forthwith required. The better element of the Austrian army felt

deeply humiliated by the incident, and it led to undisguised bitterness

on all sides.

Meantime the Liberals were everywhere assuming an aggressive attitude.

Guadalajara had fallen into the hands of General Uraga.

About this time an important convoy from Matamoros, under the escort of

Colonel Olvera's Mexican force, sixteen hundred strong, and of an

Austrian regiment, was attacked by Liberal forces. The officer in charge

of the Austrian forces was then in the capital. The escort was

overwhelmed, routed, and almost annihilated, and the convoy fell into

the hands of the enemy. The Austrian officer had to bear the most severe

and unsparing criticism from the French. The night after the news of the

disaster had reached the capital he appeared at an evening gathering at

the house of Countess de N--, the wife of an officer on the marshal's

staff. As he entered, a perceptible shock was felt; electricity was in

the air; many turned away from him, and an officer remarked in audible

tones, as I asked the reason of the flutter: "O, ce n'est rien; c'est

seulement le colonel, . . . qui aime mieux s'amuser a Mexico que de se

battre a Matamoros."

It is more than likely that the officer, a man of proved courage, was

fully justified by circumstances known to himself and to his chiefs in

having left his post, but the spirit of antagonism then prevailing would

admit of no excuse. The ill feeling existing between the Emperor and the

marshal was fast spreading in every direction, and interfered even with

the pleasure of social intercourse; and yet all this time the Emperor

was writing to the marshal notes the tone of which was generally more

than courteous, and signed himself "votre tres affectionne."

The fall of Matamoros marked the beginning of the end.

While reviewing the peripetia of an episode in which ignoble intrigue

and treachery have so large a share, it is restful for a moment to pause

before the modest figure of General Mejia, whose loyalty was unflinching

to the bitter end. The brave Indian had for many months faithfully

defended this important post. As true to his flag as President Juarez

was to his, he himself had supplied the needs of his army, holding his

own and never murmuring until, almost forgotten by his government, he

was allowed to fall.

In July, 1866, Tampico and Monterey were, like Matamoros, lost to the

Imperialists. The revenue derived from the port of Tampico thereby

ceased altogether, and went to strengthen the national party. This event

caused a painful shock.

To us in Mexico there was no concealing the fact that the knell of the

Mexican empire had struck. Maximilian must fall. How? was the only

question.

When, in the course of the winter, the treasury being empty, he had

appealed to the French for relief, he had threatened to resign the

throne unless they would advance to his administration the funds

necessary for its support. The marshal had then, against the formal

orders of his own government, supplied the millions necessary to tide

over successive crises as they presented themselves; for it was clear

that unless funds were immediately forthcoming the empire must collapse.

The French government, however, had censured the marshal's conduct. His

situation was fast becoming an impossible one, and in order to obtain

security for the French outlay he ordered the seizure of the

custom-house of Vera Cruz. Maximilian was furious, and a rumor spread

that he was seriously considering his abdication. The Empress, who

strongly opposed his taking this step, suggested going abroad herself to

see what could be done to save the crown. All confidence was at an end

between the young monarchs and the marshal, whom they held responsible

for Napoleon's altered attitude. It seemed to them idle to trust to

written appeals the force of which must be counteracted by his

representations. A personal interview might, however, accomplish much.

The situation was reaching an acute crisis. Much bitter recrimination

had followed upon the disasters to the imperial forces in the North.

Nothing could be worse than the animus on both sides. Altogether,

imperial Mexico had become a seething caldron, in which the scum stood a

fair chance of rising to the top.

The imperial government, which during the first years of its existence

had shown so much jealousy of its own authority, now suddenly changed

its policy and sought to throw the whole weight of its responsibilities

upon the French. In August, 1866, Maximilian proposed to face the

uprising of the republicans throughout the empire, as well as to guard

against possible aggression on the part of the United States troops then

watching events across the Rio Grande, by declaring a state of siege

throughout the empire and by placing the whole executive power of each

state in the hands of a French officer. This he urged upon the marshal,

who courteously but firmly declined. It was impossible to tell where

such a course, if adopted, would lead the French. It must necessarily

carry with it serious consequences, the most obvious of which was a

probable war with Mexico's Northern neighbor, and there is little doubt

that this possibility prompted the suggestion.

Each side accused the other of duplicity with regard to the United

States. The Imperialists openly charged the French with delivering up

the empire to the republicans, while the French suspected the existence

of snares and intrigues set afoot for the purpose of bringing about such

complications as might force the French to retain an interest in Mexican

affairs. Moreover, attempts, not wholly unsuccessful, were made to sow

discord among the French themselves by taking advantage of individual

ambitions and of petty jealousies to increase existing difficulties.

The relations between General Douay, then in command of the second

division, and the quartier-general had never been cordial. On his way to

France, on leave of absence, he passed through the city, and had an

interview with Maximilian. This gave rise to much gossip. It was said

that General Douay favored a policy totally different from that lately

pursued by France, and that he approved of calling upon the French

government for reinforcements for the purpose of firmly maintaining the

empire; that he and Maximilian had arranged to bring pressure to bear

upon the Emperor Napoleon not only to continue but to increase his

support, and that Maximilian wished to see General Douay assume command

of the French army in the marshal's place.

All this came to nothing, but the relations of the Emperor with the

French headquarters were becoming more and more strained, and having

begun with political differences, the feud was assuming almost a

personal character.

Had Maximilian's grasp of the situation been stronger, he must have seen

that by firmly taking his stand upon his original agreement with France,

by refusing to consider the onerous terms substituted for those of the

treaty of Miramar by Napoleon in his communication of May 31,1866, and

by making then and there a public renunciation of his throne, based upon

the non-fulfilment of the terms of the convention, he must throw the

full responsibility of the denouement upon the Emperor of the French.*

* M. Rouher (July 10, 1866) announced to the Chamber of Deputies that

the government had reluctantly determined upon the evacuation of Mexico

by the army, owing to the inability of the Mexican government to observe

the conditions of the treaty of Miramar. See Domenech, "Histoire," etc.,

vol. iii., p. 349.

He had then his one chance to retire with dignity and honor from the

lamentable situation into which his youthful ambition and inexperience

had led him, at the same time revenging himself upon his disloyal ally

by exposing to the full light of day, and before the whole world, the

wretched conditions under which the empire had been erected.

By compromising and signing away half the revenues of his ports,* by

retaining the scepter upon terms that made the empire impossible, that

forced him down to the level of a mere leader of faction, and placed him

in contradiction to his own declared principles, he descended from his

imperial state, and forfeited, if not his crown, at least his right to

it, if judged by his own standard. He, moreover, lost his one chance of

seriously embarrassing his allies. At that time the army was scattered

in small detachments over the Mexican territory; terms had not yet been

made with the Liberal leaders; the sudden collapse of the empire must

have created dangers to the French, the existence of which would give

him a certain hold over them.

* Convention of Mexico, signed July 30, 1866, by M. Dano and Don Luis de

Arroyo.

But he was a weak man; the Empress clung to her crown; the great state

officials were interested in retaining their offices; he was surrounded

by evil or interested councilors; and instead of standing up firmly in

his false ally's path, he allowed him to brush past and to disregard

him.

In ancient Mexico, when, fortune having deserted a warrior, he fell into

the hands of his enemies, a victim doomed to sacrifice, a chance was,

under certain conditions, given him for his life. He was tied by one

foot, naked, to the gladiatorial stone, armed with a wooden sword, and

six warriors were, one after another, entered against him. If

extraordinarily skilful, strong, and brave, he might hold his own and

save his life; at least he might destroy some of his foes, and, falling

like a warrior, avoid being laid alive upon the sacrificial stone, where

his heart, torn out of his breast, must be held up, a bleeding sacrifice

to the fierce god of battles.

Maximilian was not strong enough for the unequal struggle at this

supreme moment, and he was laid upon the sacrificial stone.

Meanwhile the cloud "no bigger than a man's hand," which wise men had

from the first anxiously watched as it loomed upon the northern horizon,

had grown with alarming rapidity, and was now spreading black and

threatening over the whole sky.

Secretary Seward was prepared to enter upon the scene. Nothing could be

finer than the conduct of the American statesman throughout these

difficult transactions. Alone among the foreign leaders who had a share

in them, he followed a consistent policy from beginning to end, and his

diplomatic notes form a logical sequence. Quietly, steadily, he played

his part, to the greater credit and higher dignity of the nation whose

interests and honor were in his keeping.

The burden of the Civil War had for several years weighed him down; but

despite every effort of European diplomacy, the ship of state, steered

by a firm hand, was kept upon its course, avoiding every shoal, while

saving its strength for home defense. He never yielded a serious point,

never wavered in his adherence to the traditional American policy, and

stood by the legal republican government of Mexico even when, reduced to

the persons of the President and his minister, Lerdo de Tejada, it was

compelled to seek refuge at Paso del Norte. But when the surrender of

Lee's army left the Federal government free to act, sixty thousand men

were massed upon the frontier, and the American statesman at once grew

threatening.*

* See peremptory note of Secretary Seward to Mr. Bigelow, November 23,

1866 ("Diplomatic Correspondence," 1866, Part I, p. 366). See also

letter to the Marquis de Montholon, April 25, 1866.

In vain did Napoleon III plead for delay; in vain did he assure Mr.

Bigelow that a date had been fixed for the final recall of the army.

From Washington came the uncompromising words: No delay can be

tolerated; the intervention and the empire must come to an end at once.*

* On December 10, 1860, Mr. Seward officially expressed his opinion that

the traditional friendship with France would be brought into "imminent

jeopardy, unless France could deem it consistent with her interest and

honor to desist from the prosecution of armed intervention in Mexico"

(letter of Seward to Bigelow, "Diplomatic Correspondence," 1866, Part

III, p. 429); and he declined the condition made by the Emperor that the

United States recognize the empire of Mexico as a de facto power. See

proclamation of President Johnson, August 18, 1866, declaring the

blockade of Matamoros issued by Maximilian null and void ("Diplomatic

Correspondence," 1866, Part I, p. 339).

Since accepting Napoleon's ultimatum, by the terms of which all French

assistance was to be withdrawn by November 1, 1867, Maximilian had made

no attempt to disguise his hostility to his allies.

The French government having formally declined to do more than pay the

auxiliary troops and the foreign legion, the distress was great, and the

Imperialists, on the verge of starvation, were frequently supplied in

the field by the French commissariat. Demoralization set in throughout

the imperial army. Whole garrisons, receiving no pay, left their posts

and turned highwaymen, even in the neighborhood of the capital.

Indeed, the desertions were now so frequent that the Liberals were able

to form a "foreign legion" with the deserters of various nationalities

who sought service under their flag.* Rats were leaving the sinking

ship.

* See "L'Ere Nouvelle" (Mexico), September 25, 1866.

In January, 1866, the imperial army, including the Austro-Belgian

legion, numbered 43,500 men. In October of the same year only 28,000

remained under arms. Many, of course, had fallen in the field, but

desertion was principally accountable for this shriveling of the Mexican

forces.

Permission had originally been granted French officers to take service

under the imperial flag. Various army-corps had been formed, which were

officered by Frenchmen as well as by Austrians and Belgians.

Theoretically, a year and a half was time enough to organize the new

foreign legion then well under way; but recruiting for the Mexican army

was now found to be, like all other experiments successively brought to

bear upon the problem, virtually impossible. Under the circumstances it

seemed folly for foreign officers to enlist in the newly organized

imperial regiments.

The marshal took it upon himself to withdraw the permission given some

time before to French officers to pass into the Mexican service. He has

been blamed for this, and accused of having deliberately hindered the

organizing of Mexican forces, thus hastening the ruin of the empire. But

no one not on the spot toward the close of the year 1866 can well

realize the atmosphere of general sauve qui peut that prevailed in

Mexico and affected all classes of society. The tide had turned. To all

who had anything to lose, the only course that seemed perfectly clear

was to get out of the country, leaving behind as little of their

belongings as possible. Indeed, M. de Hoorickx, who remained as charge

d'affaires after the departure of the Belgian minister, M. de Blondel,

told me that he also was doing all in his power to prevent his

countrymen from embarking upon such stormy seas.

Sober-minded Austrians, on their side, used their influence over their

more adventurous comrades to prevent their remaining under the altered

conditions.

And now the only hope of the empire rested upon the power of Empress

Charlotte to induce the courts of Austria, Belgium, Rome, and especially

the court of France, to grant a reprieve to the tottering empire by

lending it further support.

To defray the expenses of her journey, thirty thousand dollars were

taken from an emergency fund held as sacred for the repairs of the dikes

which defend Mexico against the ever-threatening floods from the lakes,

the level of which is higher than that of the city.

It soon was whispered among us that upon her arrival in Paris the

Empress had not spared the marshal, and that in her interview with

Napoleon III she not only had denounced him, but had asked his recall.

On September 16, 1866, the anniversary of the national independence was

celebrated with unusual state by the Emperor. The Te Deum was sung in

the cathedral, and a formal reception was held at the palace, where, for

the last time, a large crowd assembled. After this a meeting of the

council of state was held to discuss the situation.

The Liberals and Moderates had failed to strengthen the empire. As a

last resort, the Emperor turned once more to the reactionary party for

help. The Liberal ministers withdrew, and a new cabinet, composed of the

ultra-clerical party, was formed.

Thus, at the last hour, when, without funds and abandoned by his allies,

all were falling away from him, Maximilian cast his lot with the men

whom, when rich in money, armies, and allies, and the future promised

success, he had discarded as impossible to carry. In accepting their

help he was pledging himself to factional warfare, and was virtually

going back upon every declared principle which had formed the basis of

his acceptance of the crown.

But in fairness it may be said that the unfortunate prince was at this

time scarcely responsible for his actions. The situation was desperate.

He had neither the strength nor the coolness of judgment to face the

issue. His vacillating nature had been still further weakened by

intermittent fever, as well as by the events of this year, so fatal to

his house. The climate of Mexico did not suit him. What with malarial

fever and dysentery, as well as with distracting responsibilities and

cares, he was a physical wreck. Not only had he month after month felt

his hopes grow faint and his throne crumble under him; not only had he

every cause to lose faith in his star as well as in his own judgment:

but the cannon of Lissa must have vibrated with painful distinctness

through the innermost fibers of the Austrian admiral's heart, and his

personal interest in Austrian affairs must have caused him to dwell with

poignant regret upon his renunciation of his birthright, and his absence

from the larger stage upon which, but for his wild errand, he might then

have been playing a leading role.*

* See M. de Keratry, "L'Empereur Maximilien," p. 220.

The new clerical cabinet, as usual, promised to pacify the country, and

to find the funds indispensable for the purpose. This was the last card

of the reactionary party. Of all those involved in the issue, the

clerical leaders alone had everything to lose by the downfall of the

empire. Their personal interest in its prolongation was clear. With them

it was a matter, if not of life and death, at least of comparative

dignity and prosperity at home, or of exile and beggary abroad.

To place his fate in such hands was the last mistake of the Emperor.

Such interested advisers must endeavor to cut off his retreat, when to

remain must cost him his life.

The mission of the Empress abroad had, if anything, aggravated the

situation. It is said that, no doubt, under the influence of the

cerebral disturbance that soon afterward manifested itself, her

recriminations were so violent as to arouse a feeling of personal

resentment which destroyed all sympathy in Napoleon's heart. Already

weary of an undertaking which from beginning to end must reflect upon

his statesmanship, and which was fast becoming a reproach to the French

nation, he was even then negotiating with the United States for the

removal of his troops, and for the restoration of the republic.

Regardless of the onerous agreement which Maximilian only four months

before had been compelled to sign, the new minister of foreign affairs,

the Marquis de Moustier, on the occasion of his first reception to the

diplomatic corps, on October 11, told Mr. Bigelow that the Emperor would

recall the army shortly.* The minister of war had already signed a

contract with Pereire, the head of the Compagnie Transatlantique, for

the home passage of the last instalment of the army during the month of

March.

* See letter of Mr. Bigelow to Mr. Seward, October 12 ("Diplomatic

Correspondence," 1866, Part I, p. 360).

Of these fateful negotiations we, in Mexico, were then ignorant. We were

under the impression that strict compliance with the terms of the recent

agreement was the worst that could befall the empire. That these terms

would be strictly adhered to even seemed incredible to many. There were

optimists among us who thought that Napoleon's action was intended to

call forth docility on the part of Maximilian and of his Mexican

cabinet, and to bring them to terms. Thus it was that, although the

debacle was in reality hard upon us, it yet seemed sufficiently far off

not materially to affect our daily life. We therefore lightly skipped

over the thin ice of our present security, unmindful of what the

immediate future had in store for us.

III. COMEDY AND TRAGEDY

In the spring of 1866 our small circle was pleasantly enlarged by the

arrival of the Marquis de Massa. He was the younger son of the

celebrated Regnier, Duc de Massa, the able lawyer whose work upon the

Code Napoleon had led him to a dukedom under Napoleon the Great.

M. de Massa was endowed with more brilliancy than perseverance. He had

not passed through St. Cyr to enter the army, and had devoted much of

his youth to the systematic enjoyment of life. After some of his

illusions and most of his money had gone, he did as many Frenchmen of

good family had done before him--he enlisted in a crack cavalry regiment

of the Imperial Guard, where, after a while, thanks to mighty

protectors, he exchanged his worsted stripes for gold braid and the

single epaulet. He had come to Mexico in search of an excuse for rapid

promotion.

Similar cases were by no means infrequent then. Michel Ney, Duc

d'Elchingen, the grandson of the great marshal, when I met him in

Mexico, was sergeant or corporal in a regiment of chasseurs d'Afrique,

recognizable from his fellow-troopers only by his spotless linen.

Shortly after this he was promoted to a sublieutenancy. His promotion

was then rapid, and he did good service in the north; for although he

was no reader of books and was somewhat heavy of understanding, he was

as brave as his famous ancestor.*

* An officer wrote me during the Franco-Prussian war that at Rezonville,

in 1870, when brilliantly charging at the head of his men, Michel Ney,

then a colonel of dragoons, received three sabre-cuts over his head and

face, and after killing five Prussians rolled under his wounded horse.

He eventually recovered.

Count Clary, a cousin of Napoleon III, when I met him, had only recently

emerged from his worsted chrysalis;** and Albert Bazaine, the marshal's

own nephew, was impatiently waiting to be raised from the depressing

position of a piou-piou, that he might enjoy the full social benefits of

his relationship to the commander-in-chief.

* He was promoted to the rank of captain before the return of the French

army, and commanded a contre-guerilla known as the "Free Company of

Mexican partizans" (see D'Hericault, loc. cit., p. 79), which did brave

work in the state of Michoacan against the bands of General Regules and

others, and later in the neighborhood of Mexico, without ever exciting

the bitter hatred which the contreguerilla of Colonel Dupin, holding the

state of Vera Cruz, drew upon itself. (See "Queretaro," by Haus, p. 56.)

The position of these gentlemen in a capital where the army was, so to

speak, under arms, and where no civilian's dress, therefore, was allowed

to a soldier, was ambiguous and gave rise to amusing anomalies. For

instance, they, of course, could not be admitted to official balls or

entertainments where uniforms were de rigueur, as only officers were

invited. They paid calls, however, and thus mixed on neutral ground with

their officers; and so these nondescript military larvae managed to

enjoy life until the day came when they might become official

butterflies.

As for the Marquis de Massa, the day had long gone by when, driving in

his own trap to the gate of the Paris barracks after a night spent out

on leave through the leniency of General Floury, he set to work to curry

his own horse. His keen wit and happy repartee, his good-humored

sarcasm, and, above all, the magnetism of a personality that scorned

deceit and gave itself for no better or worse than it was, combined to

make him a favorite among the devotees of pleasure whom Napoleon III and

Empress Eugenie had gathered about them; and notwithstanding his empty

pockets, his roofless chateau in Auvergne, and his sparsely braided

sleeve, he was an habitue of the Austrian embassy and of the best salons

in Paris, and made for himself a conspicuous place in the innermost

circle of the court of Compiegne and the Tuileries. He had written a

number of light plays for the amateur stage of Parisian society, and his

dramatic efforts had been interpreted by players whose high-sounding

names might be found on pages of history.

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 nobility, 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 ambassador 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 principal

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 title 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 Duchesse 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 Massa'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 assume 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."

Maximilian in Mexico: A Woman's Reminiscences of the French Intervention 1862-1867 · 第 4 / 6 章