At 8 A.M. I got a military pass to cross the Rio Grande into
Mexico, which I presented to the sentry, who then allowed me to cross in the
ferry-boat.
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 fore fathers, 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.
SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three
months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 7-10
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