Part 3

Carriages are not permitted to run on Good Friday in Mexico, so I had a hot dusty walk of more than a mile into Matamoros.

Mr Zorn, the acting British Consul, and Mr Behnsen, his partner, invited me to live at the Consulate during my stay at Matamoros, and I accepted their offer with much gratitude.

I was introduced to Mr Colville, a Manchester man; to Mr Maloney, one of the principal merchants; to Mr Bennet, an Englishman, one of the owners of the Peterhoff, who seemed rather elated than otherwise when he heard of the capture of his vessel, as he said the case was such a gross one that our Government would be obliged to take it up. I was also presented to the gobernador, rather a rough.

After dining with Mr Zorn I walked back to the Rio Grande, which I was allowed to cross on presenting Mr Colville's pass to the Mexican soldiers, and I slept at Mr Ituria's again.

Brownsville is a straggling town of about 3000 inhabitants; most of its houses are wooden ones, and its streets are long, broad, and straight. There are about 4000 troops under General Bee in its immediate vicinity. Its prosperity was much injured when Matamoros was declared a free port.

After crossing the Rio Grande, a wide dusty road, about a mile in length, leads to Matamoros, which is a Mexican city of about 9000 inhabitants. Its houses are not much better than those at Brownsville, and they bear many marks of the numerous revolutions which are continually taking place there. Even the British Consulate is riddled with the bullets fired in 1861-2.

The Mexicans look very much like their Indian forefathers, their faces being extremely dark, and their hair black and straight. They wear hats with the most enormous brims, and delight in covering their jackets and leather breeches with embroidery.

Some of the women are rather good-looking, but they plaster their heads with grease, and paint their faces too much. Their dress is rather like the Andalucian. When I went to the cathedral, I found it crammed with kneeling women; an effigy of our Saviour was being taken down from the cross and put into a golden coffin, the priest haranguing all the time about His sufferings, and all the women howling most dismally as if they were being beaten.

Matamoros is now infested with numbers of Jews, whose industry spoils the trade of the established merchants, to the great rage of the latter.

It suffers much from drought, and there had been no rain to speak of for eleven months.

I am told that it is a common thing in Mexico for the diligence to arrive at its destination with the blinds down. This is a sure sign that the travellers, both male and female, have been stripped by robbers nearly to the skin. A certain quantity of clothing is then, as a matter of course, thrown in at the window, to enable them to descend. Mr Behnsen and Mr Maloney told me they had seen this happen several times; and Mr Oetling declared that he himself, with three ladies, arrived at the city of Mexico in this predicament.

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4th April (Saturday).--I crossed the river at 9 A.M., and got a carriage at the Mexican side to take my baggage and myself to the Consulate at Matamoros. The driver ill-treated his half-starved animals most cruelly. The Mexicans are even worse than the Spaniards in this respect.

I called on Mr Oetling, the Prussian Consul, who is one of the richest and most prosperous merchants in Matamoros, and a very nice fellow.

After dinner we went to a fandango, or open-air fete. About 1500 people were gambling, and dancing bad imitations of European dances.

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5th April (Sunday).--Mr Zorn, or Don Pablo as he is called here, Her Majesty's acting Vice-Consul, is a quaint and most good-natured little man--a Prussian by birth. He is overwhelmed by the sudden importance he has acquired from his office, and by the amount of work (for which he gets no pay) entailed by it,--the office of British Consul having been a comparative sinecure before the war.

Mr Behnsen is head of the firm. The principal place of business is at San Luis Potosi, a considerable city in the interior of Mexico. All these foreign merchants complain bitterly of the persecutions and extortion they have to endure from the Government, which are, doubtless, most annoying; but nevertheless they appear to fatten on the Mexican soil.

I crossed to Brownsville to see General Bee, but he had not returned from Boca del Rio.

I dined with Mr Oetling. We were about fourteen at dinner, principally Germans, a very merry party. Mr Oetling is supposed to have made a million of dollars for his firm, by bold cotton speculations, since the war.

We all went to the theatre afterwards. The piece was an attack upon the French and upon Southern institutions.

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6th April (Monday).--Mr Behnsen and Mr Colville left for Bagdad this morning, in a very swell ambulance drawn by four gay mules.

At noon I crossed to Brownsville, and visited Captain Lynch, a quartermaster, who broke open a great box, and presented me with a Confederate felt hat to travel in. He then took me to the garrison, and introduced me to Colonel Buchel of the 3d Texas Regiment, who is by birth a German, but had served in the French army; and he prepared cocktails in the most scientific manner. I returned to Matamoros at 2.30 P.M.

Captain Hancock and Mr Anderson (the paymaster) arrived from Bagdad in a most miserable vehicle, at 4 P.M. They were a mass of dust, and had been seven hours on the road, after having been very nearly capsized on the bar.

There was a great firing of guns and squibs in the afternoon, in consequence of the news of a total defeat of the French at Puebla, with a loss of 8000 prisoners and 70 pieces of cannon.

Don Pablo, who had innocently hoisted his British flag in honour of Captain Hancock, was accused by his brother merchants of making a demonstration against the French.

After dinner we called on Mr Maloney, whose house is gorgeously furnished, and who has a pretty wife.