In a strict military sense the capital of Mexico cannot be called a
fortified city. Still, it has defences, one being an _enceinte_ wall,
which envelops it all round, leaving no straggled suburb, scarce so much
as a house, outside. Compact and close stand the dwellings of the
modern city as those of ancient Tenochtitlan, whose site it occupies,
though the waves of Tezcuco and Xochimilco no longer lap up to its
walls.
The _enceinte_ spoken of is a mere structure of "adobes," large
sun-baked blocks of mud and straw--in short, the bricks of the
Egyptians, whose making so vexed Moses and the Israelites. Here and
there may be seen a little redoubt, with a battery of guns in it; but
only on revolutionary occasions--the wall, so far as defence goes, more
concerning the smuggler than the soldier; and less contraband from
abroad than infringement of certain regulations of home commerce--chief
of them the tax called "alcabala," corresponding to the _octroi_ of
France, and the _corvee_ of some other European countries.
The tax is collected at the "garitas," of which there is one on every
road leading out of the city, or rather into it; for it is the man who
enters, not he making exit, who is called upon to contribute to the
_alcabala_. It is levied on every article or commodity brought from the
country in search of a city market. Nothing escapes it; the produce of
farm and garden, field and forest--all have to pay toll at the
_garitas_, so losing a considerable percentage of their value. The
brown aboriginal, his "burro" laden with charcoal, or skins of _pulque_,
or himself staggering under a load of planks heavy enough to weigh down
a donkey, which he has transported from a mountain forest--ten or twenty
miles it may be--is mulcted in this blackmail before he can pass through
a _garita_.
Not unfrequently he is unable to meet the demand till he have made sale
of the taxed commodity. On such occasions he hypothecates his hat, or
_frezada_, leaving it at the gate, and going on bareheaded or
bare-shouldered to the market, to redeem the pawned article on return.
Save through these gates there is no access to, or egress from, the
Mexican capital; and at each, besides the official having charge of the
revenue matters, a soldier-guard is stationed, with a guard-house
provided; their duties being of a mixed, three-cornered kind--customs,
police, and military. Five or six such posts there are, on the five or
six roads leading out from the city, like the radiating limbs of a
star-fish; and one of these is the _garita_ El Nino Perdido--literally,
the gate of the "Lost Child." It is, however, one through which the
traffic is of secondary importance; since it is not on any of the main
routes of travel. That which it bars is but a country road,
communicating with the villages of Mixcoac, Coyoacan, and San Angel.
Still, these being places of rural residence, where some of the
_familiares principes_ have country houses, a carriage passing through
the gate of the Lost Child is no rarity. Besides, from the gate itself
runs a _Calzada_, or causeway, wide and straight for nearly two miles,
with a double row of grand old trees along each side, whose pleasant
shade invites, and often receives, visits from city excursionists out
for a stroll, ride, or drive. Near the end of the second mile it angles
abruptly to the right, in the direction of San Angel--a sharp corner the
writer has good reason to remember, having been shot at by
_salteadores_, luckily missed, while passing round it on his way from
country quarters to the city. A horse of best blood saved _his_ blood
there, or this tale would never have been told.
Asking the reader's pardon for a personal digression--with the excuse
that it may throw light on the scene to follow--it will be understood
how easily the guard on duty at the gate might be "thrown off guard" by
a carriage passing through it; especially on that day when there were so
many, by reason of the grand doings in the city.
Several had just passed, going country-wards; for it was the season of
rural sojourn among the "ricos." So, when another appeared, heading in
the same direction, the guard-sergeant at Nino Perdido saw nothing
amiss, or to be suspicious of; instead, something to inspire him with
respect. He had been on guard at the Palace scores of times; and by
appearance knew all who were accustomed to pass in and out, more
especially those holding authority. Liveries he could distinguish at
any distance; and when he saw a carriage approaching along the street,
with a coachman in sky-blue and silver, cockaded, he did not need its
being near to recognise the equipage of one of the Cabinet Ministers.
Though a non-commissioned officer, he was a man of ambitious aims;
dreaming of gold bullion in the shape of epaulettes; and he had long had
his eye on the epaulette of an _alferez_--officers of this rank being
allowed only one. The good word of a Cabinet Minister, whether war,
navy, or _Hacienda_, could give him what he was wishing for, easy at a
nod; and here was an opportunity of winning it.
"_Cabo_!" he cried out to his corporal, in a flurry of excitement,
"throw open the gate--quick! Fall in, men! Dress up--ready to present
arms! See that you do it handsomely!"
It was in his favour, and so he congratulated himself that the carriage
came on rather slowly, so that he had ample time to get his half-dozen
files well set-up and dressed for the salute.
There was some buttoning of jackets, stocks to be adjusted round
shirtless necks, with shakos to be searched for inside the guard-house,
and hurriedly clapped on. Still, it was all got through in good time;
and, when at length the carriage came abreast, the guard was found
standing at "present arms," the sergeant himself saluting in the most
gracious manner.
They inside, knowing how, returned the salute in true soldier style,
though with a surprised expression upon their faces. No wonder. Where
they had anticipated difficulty and danger, they were received with more
than civility--accorded military honours!