Another anecdote, of this kind, places his peculiarity of temper in a still stronger light. In perambulating the city one pleasant evening about sunset, he found that the street in which he was walking terminated abruptly against a mass of wretched tenements, apparently the lurking places of vice and beggary. He inquired how it happened that the highway was carried no farther, or why these hovels were allowed to exist; but the only information he could gain was that such had always been the case, and that none of the authorities considered themselves bound to remedy the evil. Revilla-Gigedo sent immediately to the corregidor:—"tell him that I await him here," he concluded, in a tone that had the effect of bringing that functionary at once to the spot, and he received orders to open, without delay, a broad and straight avenue through the quarter as far as the barrier of the city. It must be finished,—was the imperious command,—that very night, so as to allow the viceroy to drive through it on his way to mass the next morning. With this the count turned on his heel, and the corregidor was left to reflect upon his disagreeable predicament.
The fear of losing his office, or perhaps worse consequences, stimulated his energy. No time was to be wasted. All his subordinate officers were instantly summoned, and laborers were collected from all parts of the city. The very buildings that were to be removed sent forth crowds of leperos willing for a few reales to aid in destroying the walls which had once harbored them. A hundred torches shed their radiance over the scene. All night long the shouts of the workmen, the noise of pick-axe and crowbar, the crash of falling roofs, and the rumbling of carts, kept the city in a fever of excitement. Precisely at sunrise the state carriage, with the viceroy, his family and suite, left the palace, and rattled over the pavements in the direction from which the noise had proceeded. At length the new street opened before them, a thousand workmen, in double file, fell back on either side and made the air resound with vivas, as they passed. Through clouds of dust and dirt,—over the unpaved earth, strewn with fragments of stone and plaster,—the coach and train swept onward, till at the junction of the new street with the road leading to the suburbs, the corregidor, hat in hand, with a smile of conscious desert, stepped forward to receive his excellency, and to listen to the commendation bestowed on the prompt and skilful execution of his commands!
Should any one doubt the truth of this story, let him be aware that the Calle de Revilla-Gigedo still remains in Mexico to attest its verity.
These anecdotes impart some idea of the authority exercised by the viceroys, which was certainly far more arbitrary and personal than that of their sovereign in his Spanish dominions.
There is another adventure told to display the excellence of Revilla-Gigedo's police, in which the count figures rather melodramatically. It seems that among the creole nobles, who, with the high officers of government, made up the viceroy's court, there was a certain marques, whom fortune had endowed with great estates and two remarkably pretty daughters, and it was doubted by some whether the care of his cash or his heiresses gave him most anxiety. The eldest, who bore her father's title, was celebrated for beauty of an uncommon kind in those regions. She had blue eyes, brilliant complexion, and golden hair, and was every where known as the fair haired marquesa. Her sister who, on the contrary, was very dark, with eyes like the gazelle and raven hair, was called the pretty brunette. But, different as they were in looks and perhaps in character, there was one trait in which they perfectly agreed, for they were remarkable coquettes! It is unknown how many offers of the wealthiest grandees and most gallant cavaliers about court they had refused; and the poor marques, who was by no means a domestic tyrant and desired to govern his family only by kindness, was quite worn out in persuading them to know there own minds. One night he was roused from his sleep by a message from the viceroy, who awaited him in the palace. Not for his best estate would the loyal marques have kept the representative of his sovereign waiting a moment longer than necessary. Wondering what reason of state could require his presence at that unusual hour, he dressed himself hastily, and hurried to the palace. The viceroy was in his cabinet, surrounded by several of his household, and all in a state of painful curiosity. "Marques," said the viceroy, as soon as the nobleman entered, "my lieutenant of police here, complains that you did not take proper care to secure the doors of your mansion last evening." "I assure your highness," replied the marques in great surprise, "that my steward locked both the great gate and the outer door, according to the invariable custom of my mansion, before retiring for the night." "But have you not a postern opening into the next street?" returned the count, "and are you equally heedful in regard to it? But, in short," he continued, "you must know, that this watchful lieutenant of mine has saved you to-night from robbery." "Robbery! your excellency, is it possible?" ejaculated the marques, startled for a moment out of his habitual composure. "Yes,—and of the worst kind" replied the viceroy, "the felons were in the act of carrying off your most exquisite treasures which are now restored to you." At these words, a door at the side of the cabinet flew open, and the astonished marques beheld his two daughters, dressed for travelling, and locked in each other's arms. They seemed overwhelmed with confusion; the fair hair all dishevelled and the black eyes drowned in tears. "And these are the robbers," added the viceroy pointing to a door on the opposite side, which also flew open. The marques turned mechanically, and saw two of the gayest, handsomest, and most dissipated youths of the court, whom he recollected as occasional visitors at his house. They appeared no less confused, and, with their embarrassment, there was an evident mixture of alarm. The truth now began to break on the mind of the nobleman. "You see, marques," said the count, "that but for the vigilance of my police, you would have had the honor of being father-in-law to two of the greatest scamps in my viceroyalty. See what a dilemma your carelessness has brought me into, my dear sir! I am obliged to wound the feelings of two of the most lovely ladies in my court, to save them from the machinations of scoundrels unworthy of their charms, and I fear they will never forgive me! Farewell, señor marques; take my advice, and brick up your postern. Calderon [49] was a wise man, and he tells us that a house with two doors is hard to keep. As for these young scape-graces, they sail in the next galeon, for Manilla, where they can exercise their fascinating powers on the chinas and mulatas of the Philipines!"
Footnotes
[ [48] During the administration of the second Count Revilla-Gigedo the sum of one hundred and nine millions, seven hundred and four thousand, four hundred and seventeen dollars, was coined in gold and silver in Mexico.
[ [49] One of Calderon's comedies is named "Casa con dos puertas mala es de guardar." See Lady's Magazine for 1844.