The Texan and I left the Immortality in her cutter, at 10
A.M., and crossed the bar in fine style. The cutter was steered by Mr Johnston,
the master, and having a fair wind, we passed in like a flash of lightning, and
landed at the miserable village of Bagdad, on the Mexican bank of the Rio
Grande.
The bar was luckily in capital order — 3½ feet of water, and
smooth. It is often impassable for ten or twelve days together: the depth of
water varying from 2 to 5 feet. It is very dangerous, from the heavy surf and
under-current; sharks also abound. Boats are frequently capsized in crossing
it, and the Orlando lost a man on it about a month ago.
Seventy vessels are constantly at anchor outside the bar;
their cotton cargoes being brought to them, with very great delays, by two
small steamers from Bagdad. These steamers draw only 3 feet of water, and
realise an enormous profit.
Bagdad consists of a few miserable wooden shanties, which
have sprung into existence since the war began. For an immense distance endless
bales of cotton are to be seen.
Immediately we landed, M’Carthy was greeted by his brother
merchants. He introduced me to Mr Ituria, a Mexican, who promised to take me in
his buggy to Brownsville, on the Texan bank of the river opposite Matamoros.
M'Carthy was to follow in the evening to Matamoros.
The Rio Grande is very tortuous and shallow; the distance by
river to Matamoros is sixty-five miles, and it is navigated by steamers, which
sometimes perform the trip in twelve hours, but more often take twenty-four, so
constantly do they get aground .
The distance from Bagdad to Matamoros by land is thirty-five
miles; on the Texan side to Brownsville, twenty-six miles.
I crossed the river from Bagdad with Mr Ituria, at 11
o'clock; and as I had no pass, I was taken before half-a-dozen Confederate
officers, who were seated round a fire contemplating a tin of potatoes. These officers
belonged to Duff's cavalry (Duff being my Texan's partner). Their dress
consisted simply of flannel shirts, very ancient trousers, jack-boots with
enormous spurs, and black felt hats, ornamented with the “lone star of Texas.”
They looked rough and dirty, but were extremely civil to me.
The captain was rather a boaster, and kept on remarking, “We've
given ’em h-ll on the Mississippi, h-ll on the Sabine” (pronounced Sabeen), “and
h-ll in various other places.”
He explained to me that he couldn't cross the river to see M’Carthy,
as he with some of his men had made a raid over there three weeks ago, and
carried away some “renegadoes,” one of whom, named Mongomery, they had left on
the road to Brownsville; by the smiles of the other officers I could easily
guess that something very disagreeable must have happened to Mongomery. He
introduced me to a skipper who had just run his schooner, laden with cotton,
from Galveston, and who was much elated in consequence. The cotton had cost 6
cents a pound in Galveston, and is worth 36 here.
Mr Ituria and I left for Brownsville at noon. A buggy is a
light gig on four high wheels.
The road is a natural one — the country quite flat, and much
covered with mosquite trees, very like pepper trees. Every person we met
carried a six-shooter, although it is very seldom necessary to use them.
After we had proceeded about nine miles we met General Bee,
who commands the troops at Brownsville. He was travelling to Boca del Rio in an
ambulance,* with his Quartermaster-General, Major Russell. I gave him my letter
of introduction to General Magruder, and told him who I was.
He thereupon descended from his ambulance and regaled me
with beef and beer in the open. He is brother to the General Bee who was killed
at Manassas. We talked politics and fraternised very amicably for more than an
hour. He said the Mongomery affair was against his sanction, and he was sorry
for it. He said that Davis, another renegado, would also have been put to
death, had it not been for the intercession of his wife. General Bee had
restored Davis to the Mexicans.
Half an hour after parting company with General Bee, we came
to the spot where Mongomery had been left; and sure enough, about two
hundred yards to the left of the road, we found him.
He had been slightly buried, but his head and arms were
above the ground, his arms tied together, the rope still round his neck, but
part of it still dangling from quite a small mosquite tree. Dogs or wolves had
probably scraped the earth from the body, and there was no flesh on the bones.
I obtained this my first experience of Lynch law within three hours of landing
in America.
I understand that this Mongomery was a man of very bad
character, and that, confiding in the neutrality of the Mexican soil, he was in
the habit of calling the Confederates all sorts of insulting epithets from the
Bagdad bank of the river; and a party of his “renegades” had also crossed over
and killed some unarmed cotton teamsters, which had roused the fury of the
Confederates.
About three miles beyond this we came to Colonel Duff's
encampment. He is a fine-looking, handsome Scotchman, and received me with much
hospitality. His regiment consisted of newly-raised volunteers— a very fine
body of young men, who were drilling in squads. They were dressed in every
variety of costume, many of them without coats, but all wore the high black
felt hat. Notwithstanding the peculiarity of their attire, there was nothing
ridiculous or contemptible in the appearance of these men, who all looked
thoroughly like “business.” Colonel Duff told me that many of the privates
owned vast tracts of country, with above a hundred slaves, and were extremely
well off. They were all most civil to me.
Their horses were rather rawboned animals, but hardy and
fast. The saddles they used were nearly like the Mexican.
Colonel Duff confessed that the Mongomery affair was wrong,
but he added that his boys “meant well”
We reached Brownsville at 5.30 P.M., and Mr Ituria kindly insisted
on my sleeping at his house, instead of going to the crowded hotel.
_______________
* An ambulance is a light waggon, and generally has two
springs behind, and one transverse one in front. The seats can be so arranged
that two or even three persons may lie at full length.
SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three
months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 2-7
