o make homes in their country;
now they wanted not only to build heretic churches and sell heretic
bibles, but also to govern Texas after their own fashion." From a
Mexican point of view the American settlers were a godless, atheistical,
quarrelsome set of ingrates. For eaten bread is soon forgotten, and
Mexicans disliked to remember that their own independence had been
won by the aid of the very men they were now trying to force into
subjection.
The two parties were already in array in every house in the city. The
Senora at variance with her daughters, their Irish cook quarrelling
with their Mexican servants, only represented a state of things nearly
universal. And after the failure of the Mexicans at Gonzales to disarm
the Americans, the animosity constantly increased.
In every church, the priests--more bitter, fierce and revengeful than
either the civil or military power--urged on the people an exterminating
war. A black flag waved from the Missions, and fired every heart with
an unrelenting vengeance and hatred. To slay a heretic was a free pass
through the dolorous pains of purgatory. For the priesthood foresaw
that the triumph of the American element meant the triumph of freedom
of conscience, and the abolition of their own despotism. To them the
struggle was one involving all the privileges of their order; and they
urged on the fight with passionate denunciations of the foe, and with
magnificent promises of spiritual favors and blessings. In the fortress,
the plaza, the houses, the churches, the streets, their fiery words kept
society in a ferment.
But through all this turmoil the small duties of life went on. Soldiers
were parading the streets, and keeping watch on the flat roofs of the
houses; men were solemly{sic} swearing allegiance to Santa Anna, or
flying by night to the camp of the Americans; life and death were held
at a pin's fee; but eating and dressing, dancing and flirting were
pursued with an eagerness typical of pleasure caught in the passing.
And every hour these elements gathered intensity. The always restless
populace of San Antonio was at a feverish point of impatience. They
wanted the war at their own doors. They wanted the quarrel fought out on
their own streets. Business took a secondary place. Men fingered weapons
and dreamed of blood, until the temper of the town was as boisterous and
vehement as the temper of the amphitheatre when impatiently waiting for
the bulls and the matadores
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