The Tagalog Rebellion of 1896-98
First Period
After the Napoleonic wars in Spain, the "Junta Suprema Central
del Reino" convened the famous "Cortes de Cadiz" by decree dated
September 12, 1809. This _junta_ was succeeded by another--"El
Supremo Consejo de la Regencia"--when the _Cortes_ passed the first
Suffrage Bill known in Spain on January 29, 1810. These _Cortes_
assembled deputies from all the Colonies--Cuba, Venezuela, Chile,
Guatemala, Santa Fe, Puerto Rico, the Philippines, etc.; in fact,
all those dependencies which constituted the four Viceroyalties and
the eight Captain-Generalships of the day. The Philippine deputy,
Ventura de los Reyes, signed the Act of Constitution of 1812. In 1820
the _Cortes_ again admitted this Colony's representatives, amongst
whom were Vicente Posadas, Eulalio Ramirez, Anselmo Jorge Fajardos,
Roberto Pimental, Esteban Marques, Jose Florentino, Manuel Saez
de Vismanos, Jose Azcarraga, and nine others. They also took part
in the parliamentary debates of 1822 and 1823. The Constitution was
shortly afterwards suspended, but on the demise of Ferdinand VII. the
Philippine deputies, Brigadier Garcia Gamba and the half-breed Juan
Francisco Lecaros, sat in Parliament. Again, and for the last time,
Philippine members figured in the _Cortes_ of the Isabella II. Regency;
then, on the opening of Parliament in 1837, their exclusion, as well as
the government of the Ultramarine Provinces by special laws, was voted.
The friars, hitherto regarded by the majority of Filipinos as their
protectors and friendly intermediaries between the people and the civil
rulers, had set their faces against the above radical innovations,
foreseeing in them a death-blow to their own preponderance. Indeed,
the "friar question" only came into existence after the year 1812.
In 1868 Queen Isabella II. was deposed, and the succeeding Provisional
Government (1868-70), founded on Republican principles, caused an
Assembly of Reformists to be established in Manila. The members of
this _Junta General de Reformas_ were five Filipinos, namely, Ramon
Calderon, Bonifacio Saez de Vismanos, Lorenzo Calvo, Gabriel Gonzalez
Esquibel, and Joaquin Pardo de Tavera; eleven civilian Spaniards,
namely, Joaquin J. Inchausti, Tomas Balbas y Castro, Felino Gil,
Antonio Ayala, with seven others and five Spanish friars, namely,
Father Fonseca, Father Domingo Trecera, Rector of the University,
(Dominicans), one Austin, one Recoleto and one Franciscan friar. This
_junta_ had the power to vote reforms for the Colony, subject to the
ratification of the Home Government. But monastic influence prevailed;
the reforms voted were never carried into effect, and long before
the Bourbon restoration took place (1874) the Philippine Assembly had
ceased to exist. But it was impossible for the mother country, which
had spontaneously given the Filipinos a taste of political equality,
again to yoke them to the old tutelage without demur. Alternate
political progress and retrogression in the Peninsula cast their reflex
on this Colony, but the first sparks of liberty had been gratuitously
struck which neither reaction in the Peninsula nor persecution in the
Colony itself could totally extinguish. No Filipino, at that period,
dreamed of absolute independence, but the few who had been taught by
their masters to hope for equal laws, agitated for their promulgation
and became a thorn in the side of the Monastic Orders. Only as their
eyes were spontaneously opened to liberty by the Spaniards themselves
did they feel the want of it.
The Cavite Rising of 1872 (_vide_ p. 106), which the Philippine
Government unwisely treated as an important political movement and
mercilessly avenged itself by executions and banishment of many of the
best Manila families, was neither forgotten nor forgiven. To me, as a
foreigner, scores of representative provincial natives did not hesitate
to open their hearts in private on the subject. The Government lost
considerably by its uncalled-for severity on this occasion. The natives
regarded it as a sign of apprehension, and a proof of the intention
to rule with an iron rod. The Government played into the hands of
the Spanish clergy, and all the friars gained by strengthening their
monopoly of the incumbencies they lost in moral prestige. Thinking men
really pitied the Government, which became more and more the instrument
of the ecclesiastics. Since then, serious ideas of a revolution to be
accomplished one day took root in the minds of influential Filipinos
throughout the provinces adjacent to Manila. _La Solidaridad_, a
Philippine organ, founded in Madrid by Marcelo Hilario del Pilar,
Mariano Ponce, Eduardo Leyte and Antonio Luna for the furtherance of
Philippine interests was proscribed, but copies entered the Islands
clandestinely. In the villages, secret societies were formed which the
priests chose to call "Freemasonry"; and on the ground that all vows
which could not be explained at the confessional were anti-christian,
the Archbishop gave strict injunctions to the friars to ferret out
the so-called Freemasons. Denunciations by hundreds quickly followed,
for the priests willingly availed themselves of this licence to get rid
of anti-clericals and others who had displeased them. In the town of
Malolos (which in 1898 became the seat of the Revolutionary Congress)
Father Moises Santos caused all the members of the Town Council to
be banished, and when I last dined with him in his convent, he told
me he had cleared out a few more and had his eye on others. From
other villages, notably in the provinces around the capital, the
priests had their victims escorted up to Manila and consigned to
the Gov.-General, who issued the deportation orders without trial
or sentence, the recommendation of the all-powerful _padre_ being
sufficient warrant. Thus hundreds of families were deprived of fathers
and brothers without warning or apparent justification;--but it takes
a great deal to rouse the patient native to action. Then in 1895 came
the Marahui campaign in Mindanao (_vide_ p. 144). In order to people
the territory around Lake Lanao, conquered from the _Moros_, it was
proposed to invite families to migrate there from the other islands,
and notifications to this effect were issued to all the provincial
governors. At first it was put to the people in the smooth form of a
proposal. None volunteered to go, because they could not see why they
should give up what they had to go and waste their lives on a tract
of virgin soil with the very likely chance of a daily attack from the
_Moros_. Peremptory orders followed, requiring the governors to send up
"emigrants" for the Yligan district. This caused a great commotion in
the provinces, and large numbers of natives abandoned their homes to
evade anticipated violence. I have no proof as to who originated this
scheme, but there is the significant fact that the _orders_ were issued
only to the authorities of those provinces supposed to be affected by
the secret societies. Under the then existing system, the governors
could not act in a case like this without the co-operation of the
parish priests; hence during the years 1895 and 1896 a systematic
course of official sacerdotal tyranny was initiated which, being
too much even for the patient Filipino, was the immediate cause of
the members of the _Katipunan_ secret society hastening their plans
for open rebellion, the plot of which was prematurely discovered on
Thursday, August 20, 1896. The rebellion in Cuba was calling for all
the resources in men and material that Spain could send there. The
total number of European troops dispersed over these Islands did
not exceed 1,500 well armed and well officered, of which about 700
were in Manila. The native auxiliaries amounted to about 6,000. The
impression was gaining ground that the Spaniards would be beaten
out of Cuba; but whilst this idea gave the Tagalogs moral courage to
attempt the same in these Islands, so far as one could then foresee,
Spain's reverse in the Antilles and the consequent evacuation would
have permitted her to pour troops into Manila, causing the natives'
last chance to vanish indefinitely.
Several months before the outbreak, the _Katipunan_ sent a deputation
to Japan to present a petition to the Mikado, praying him to annex
the Philippines. This petition, said to have been signed by 5,000
Filipinos, was received by the Japanese Government, who forwarded
it to the Spanish Government; hence the names of 5,000 disaffected
persons were known to the Philippine authorities, who did not find
it politic to raise the storm by immediate arrests.
The so-called "Freemasonry" which had so long puzzled and irritated
the friars, turned out, therefore, to be the _Katipunan_, which simply
means the "League." [173] The leaguers, on being sworn in, accepted the
"blood compact" (vide p. 28), taking from an incision on the leg or arm
the blood with which to inscribe the roll of fraternity. The cicatrice
served also as a mark of mutual recognition, so that the object and
plans of the leaguers should never be discussed with others. The drama
was to have opened with a general slaughter of Spaniards on the night
of August 20, but, just in the nick of time, a woman sought confession
of Father Mariano Gil (formerly parish priest of Bigaa, Bulacan),
then the parish priest of Tondo, a suburb of Manila, and opened the
way for a leaguer, whose heart had failed him, to disclose the plot on
condition of receiving full pardon. With this promise he made a clean
breast of everything, and without an hour's delay the civil guard
was on the track of the alleged prime movers. Three hundred supposed
disaffected persons were seized in Manila and the Provinces of Pampanga
and Bulacan within a few hours, and, large numbers being brought
in daily, the prisons were soon crowded to excess. The implacable
Archbishop Bernardino Nozaleda advocated extermination by fire and
sword and wholesale executions. Gov.-General Ramon Blanco hesitated to
take the offensive, pending the arrival of reinforcements which were
called for. He informed the Home Government that the rising was of no
great importance, but that he required 1,000 more troops to be sent
at once. The reply from Madrid was that they were sending 2,000 men,
2,000,000 cartridges, 6,000 Remington rifles, and the gunboats _Isla
de Cuba_ and _Isla de Luzon_. Each steamer brought a contingent of
troops, so that General Blanco had a total of about 10,000 Spanish
regulars by the end of November. Spain's best men had been drafted
off to Cuba, and these were chiefly raw levies who had all to learn
in the art of warfare.
Meanwhile, the rebellion had assumed alarming proportions. Among the
first to be seized were many of the richest and most prominent men in
the Colony--the cream of Manila society. There was intense excitement
in the capital as their names gradually leaked out, for many of them
were well known to us personally or by repute. No one who possessed
wealth was safe. An opulent Chinese half-caste, Don Pedro P. Rojas,
who was popularly spoken of as the prime supporter of the rebellion,
was a guest at Government House two days before the hour fixed for
the general slaughter. It cost him a fortune to be allowed to leave
the Islands. He took his passage for Europe in the _Isla de Panay_,
together with Dr. Rizal, but very prudently left that steamer at
Singapore and went on in the French mail to Marseilles and thence to
Paris, where he was still residing in 1905. No _documentary_ evidence
could be produced against him, and on June 1, 1897, the well-known
politician, Romero Robledo, undertook his defence in the _Cortes_, in
Madrid, in a brilliant speech which had no effect on his parliamentary
colleagues. For the Spaniards, indeed, the personal character of Pedro
P. Rojas was a matter of no moment. The Manila court-martial, out of
whose jurisdiction Rojas had escaped, held his estates, covering over
70,000 acres, under embargo, caused his numerous steam cane-mills to be
smashed, and his beautiful estate-house to be burnt, whilst his 14,000
head of cattle disappeared. Subsequently the military court exonerated
Pedro P. Rojas in a decree which stated "that all those persons who
made accusations against him have unreservedly retracted them, and that
they were only extracted from such persons by the tortures employed by
the Spanish officials; that the supposed introduction of arms into the
Colony through an estate owned by Pedro P. Rojas is purely fantastical,
and that the only arms possessed by the rebels were those taken by them
in combat from the Spanish soldiers." [174] But his second cousin,
Francisco L. Rojas, a shipowner, contrabandist, and merchant, was
not so fortunate. He was also one of the first seized, and his trial
was pending until General Blanco left the Islands. During this period
Rojas' wife besought the General to release him, but he could not do
so without incurring public censure, in view of the real or fictitious
condemnatory evidence brought against him by the court-martial. The
chief accusation was that of importing arms for the rebellion. It
even became a current topic, for a few weeks, that some German
merchants had made a contract with Rojas to sell him the arms, but
the Spanish authorities had sufficient good sense, on this occasion,
not to be guided by public outcry. When General Polavieja arrived,
Francisco L. Rojas' fate became a certainty, and he was executed as a
traitor. The departure of Pedro P. Rojas and the serenity of General
Blanco aroused great indignation among the civilian Spaniards who
clamoured for active measures. A week passed before it was apparent
to the public that he had taken any military action. Meanwhile, he
was urged in vain by his advisers to proclaim martial law. The press
censor would not allow the newspapers to allude to the conspirators as
"rebels," but as "brigands" (_tulisanes_). The authorities were anxious
to stifle the notion of rebellion, and to treat the whole movement
as a marauding affair. On August 23 the leading newspaper published
a patriotic appeal to the Spaniards to go _en masse_ the next day to
the Gov.-General to concert measures for public safety. They closed
their shops and offices, and assembled before Government House; but
the General refused to receive them, and ordered the newspaper to pay
a fine of P500, which sum was at once raised in the streets and cafes.
On August 26, 1,000 rebels made a raid on Coloocan, four miles outside
the capital. They killed a few Chinese, and seized others to place them
in the van of their fighting men. The armed crowd was kept at bay by a
posse of civil guards, until they learnt that a cavalry reinforcement
was on the way from Manila. Then the rebels, under cover of darkness,
fled towards the river, and were lost sight of. The next morning I
watched the troopers cross over the _Puente de Espana_. There was
mud up to the ponies' bellies, for they had scoured the district all
around. The hubbub was tremendous among the habitual saunterers on
the _Escolta_--the Rialto of Manila. For the next few days every
Spaniard one met had some startling news to tell, until, by the
end of the week, a reaction set in, and amidst jokes and _copitas_
of spirits, the idea that the Coloocan affair was the prelude to a
rebellion was utterly ridiculed. The Gov.-General still refused to
proclaim martial law, considering such a grave measure unnecessary,
when suddenly the whole city was filled with amazement by the news
of a far more serious attack near Manila.
About 4 a.m. on Sunday, August 30, the rebels concentrated at the
village of San Juan del Monte, distant half an hour on horseback from
the city gates. They endeavoured to seize the powder magazine. One
Spanish artilleryman was killed and several of the defenders were badly
wounded whilst engaged in dropping ammunition from window openings into
a stream which runs close by. Cavalry and infantry reinforcements were
at once sent out, and the first battle was fought at the entrance to
the village of San Juan del Monte. The rebels made a hard stand this
time under the leadership of Sancho Valenzuela (a hemp-rope maker in
a fairly good way of business), but he showed no military skill and
chiefly directed his men by frantic shouts from the window of a wooden
house. Naturally, as soon as they had to retreat, Valenzuela and his
three companions were taken prisoners. The rebels left about 80 dead
on the field and fled towards the Pasig River, which they tried to
cross. Their passage was at first cut off by gunboats, which fired
volleys into the retreating mob and drove them higher up the bank,
where there was some hand-to-hand fighting. Over a hundred managed
to get into canoes with the hope of reaching the Lake of Bay; but,
as they passed up the river, the civil guard, lying in ambush on
the opposite shore, fired upon them, and in the consequent confusion
every canoe was upset. The loss to the rebels in the river and on the
bank was reckoned at about 50. The whole of that day the road to San
Juan del Monte was occupied by troops, and no civilian was allowed
to pass. At 3 p.m. the same day martial law was proclaimed in Manila
and seven other Luzon provinces.
The next morning at sunrise I rode out to the battlefield with the
correspondent of the _Ejercito Espanol_ (Madrid). The rebel slain had
not yet been removed. We came across them everywhere--in the fields and
in the gutters of the highroad. Old men and youths had joined in the
scrimmage and, with one exception, every corpse we saw was attired in
the usual working dress. This one exception we found literally upside
down with his head stuck in the mud of a paddy-field. Our attention
was drawn to him (and possibly the Spaniards' bullets, too) by his
bright red baggy zouave trousers. We rode into the village, which
was absolutely deserted by its native inhabitants, and stopped at
the estate-house of the friars where the Spanish officers lodged. The
_padre_ looked extremely anxious, and the officers advised us not to
go the road we intended, as rebel parties were known to be lurking
there. The military advice being practically a command, we took the
highroad to Sampaloc on our way back to the city.
In the meantime the city drawbridges, which had probably not been
raised since 1852 (_vide_ p. 343, footnote), were put into working
order--the bushes which had been left to flourish around the approaches
were cut down, and the Spanish civilians were called upon to form
volunteer cavalry and infantry corps. So far the rebel leaders had
issued no proclamation. It was not generally known what their aims
were--whether they sought independence, reforms, extermination of
Spaniards or Europeans generally. The attitude of the thoroughbred
native non-combatants was glum silence born of fear. The half-castes,
who had long vaunted their superior birth to the native, found
themselves between two stools. If the natives were going to succeed
in the battle, they (the half-castes) would want to be the peaceful
wire-pullers after the storm. On the other hand, they had so long
striven to be regarded as on a social equality with the Spaniards
that they could not now abstain from espousing their cause against the
rebels without exciting suspicion. Therefore, in the course of a few
days, the half-castes resident in the capital came forward to enlist
as volunteers. But no one imagined, at that time, how widespread was
the _Katipunan_ league. To the profound surprise of the Spaniards it
was discovered, later on, that many of the half-caste volunteers were
rebels in disguise, bearing the "blood compact" mark, and presumably
only waiting to see which way the chances of war would turn to join
the winning side.
Under sentence of the court-martial established on August 30, the
four rebel leaders in the battle of San Juan del Monte were executed
on September 4, on the Campo de Bagumbayan, facing the fashionable
Luneta Esplanade, by the seashore. Three sides of a square were
formed by 1,500 Spanish and half-caste volunteers and 500 regular
troops. Escorted by two Austin and two Franciscan friars, the condemned
men walked to the execution-ground from the chapel within the walled
city, where they had been confined since the sentence was passed. They
were perfectly self-composed. They arrived on the ground pinioned;
their sentence was read to them and Valenzuela was unpinioned for
a minute to sign some document at a table. When he was again tied
up, all four were made to kneel on the ground in a row facing the
open sea-beach side of the square. Then amidst profound silence, an
officer, at the head of 16 Spanish soldiers, walked round the three
sides of the square, halting at each corner to pronounce publicly
the formula--"In the name of the King! Whosoever shall raise his
voice to crave clemency for the condemned shall suffer death." The 16
soldiers filed off in fours and stood about five yards behind each
culprit. As the officer lowered his sword the volley was fired, and
all but Valenzuela sank down and rolled over dead. It was the most
impressive sight I had witnessed for years. The bullets, which had
passed clean through Valenzuela's body, threw up the gravel in front
of him. He remained kneeling erect half a minute, and then gradually
sank on his side. He was still alive, and four more shots, fired close
to his head, scattered his brains over the grass. Conveyances were
in readiness to carry off the corpses, and the spectators quitted
the mournful scene in silence. This was the first execution, which
was followed by four others in Manila and one in Cavite in General
Blanco's time, and scores more subsequently.
Up the river the rebels were increasing daily, and at Pasig a thousand
of them threatened the civil guard, compelling that small force and the
parish priest to take refuge in the belfry tower. On the river-island
of Pandacan, just opposite to the European Club at Nagtajan, a crowd
of armed natives, about 400 strong, attacked the village, sacked the
church, and drove the parish priest up the belfry tower. In this plight
the _padre_ was seen to wave a handkerchief, and so drew the attention
of the guards stationed higher up the river. Aid was sent to him at
once; the insurgents were repulsed with great loss, but one European
sergeant was killed, and several native soldiers wounded. The rebellion
had spread to the northern province of Nueva Ecija, where the Governor
and all the Europeans who fled to the Government House in San Isidro
were besieged for a day (September 8) and only saved from capture
by the timely arrival from Manila of 500 troops, who outflanked the
insurgents and dispersed them with great slaughter. In Bulacan the
flying column under Major Lopez Arteaga had a score of combats with
the rebels, who were everywhere routed. Spaniards and creoles were
maltreated wherever they were found. A young creole named Chofre,
well known in Manila, went out to Mariquina to take photographic views
with a foreign half-caste friend of his named Augustus Morris. When
they saw the rebels they ran into a hut, which was set fire to. Morris
(who was not distinguishable as a foreigner) tried to escape and was
shot, whilst Chofre was burnt to death. From Maragondon a Spanish lady
was brought to Manila raving mad. At 23, _Calle Cabildo_ (Manila),
the house of a friend of mine, I several times saw a Spanish lady
who had lost her reason in Mariquina, an hour's drive from Manila.
Crowds of peaceful natives swarmed into the walled city from the
suburbs. The Gov.-General himself abandoned his riverside residence
at Malacanan, and came with his staff to _Calle Potenciana_. During
the first four months quite 5,000 Chinese, besides a large number
of Spanish and half-caste families, fled to Hong-Kong. The passport
system was revived; that is to say, no one could leave Manila for the
other islands or abroad without presenting himself personally at the
Civil Governor's office to have his _cedula personal_ vised.
The seditious tendency of a certain Andres Bonifacio, a warehouse-man
in the employ of a commercial firm in Manila, having come to the
knowledge of the Spaniards, he was prematurely constrained to seek
safety in Cavite Province which, thenceforth, became the most important
centre of the rebellion. Simultaneously Emilio Aguinaldo [175] rallied
his fighting-men, and for a short while these two organizers operated
conjointly, Bonifacio being nominally the supreme chief. From the
beginning, however, there was discord between the two leaders as to
the plan of campaign to be adopted. Bonifacio advocated barbarous
persecution and extermination of the Europeans, whilst Aguinaldo
insisted that he was fighting for a cause for which he sought the
sympathy and moral support of friends of liberty all the world over and
that this could never be obtained if they conducted themselves like
savages. Consequent on this disagreement as to the _modus operandi_,
Bonifacio and Aguinaldo became rivals, each seeking the suppression
of the other. Aguinaldo himself explains [176] that Bonifacio
having condemned him to death, he retaliated in like manner, and the
contending factions met at Naig. Leaving his armed followers outside,
Aguinaldo alone entered the house where Bonifacio was surrounded by
his counsellors, for he simply wished to have an understanding with
his rival. Bonifacio, however, so abusively confirmed his intention
to cut short Aguinaldo's career that the latter withdrew, and ordered
his men to seize Bonifacio, who was forthwith executed, by Aguinaldo's
order, for the prosperity of the cause and the good of his country.
Bonifacio's followers were few, and, from this moment, Emilio
Aguinaldo gradually rose from obscurity to prominence. Born at Cauit
[177] (Cavite) on March 22, 1869, of poor parents, he started life
in the service of the incumbent of San Francisco de Malabon. Later
on he went to Manila, where, through the influence of a relative,
employed in a humble capacity in the capital, he was admitted
into the College of San Juan de Letran under the auspices of the
Dominican friars. Subsequently he became a schoolmaster at Silan
(Cavite), and at the age of twenty-six years he was again in his
native town as petty-governor (Municipal Captain). He is a man
of small frame with slightly webbed eyes, betraying the Chinese
blood in his veins, and a protruding lower lip and prominent chin
indicative of resolve. Towards me his manner was remarkably placid
and unassuming, and his whole bearing denoted the very antithesis of
the dashing warrior. Throughout his career he has shown himself to be
possessed of natural politeness, and ever ready with the soft answer
that turneth away wrath. He understands Spanish perfectly well, but
does not speak it very fluently. Aguinaldo's explanation to me of the
initial acts of rebellion was as follows:--He had reason to know that,
in consequence of something having leaked out in Manila regarding
the immature plans of the conspirators, he was a marked man, so he
resolved to face the situation boldly. He had then been petty-governor
of his town (Cauit) sixteen months, and in that official capacity he
summoned the local detachment of the civil guard to the Town Hall,
having previously arranged his plan of action with the town guards
(_cuadrilleros_). Aguinaldo then spoke aside to the sergeant, to whom
he proposed the surrender of their arms. As he quite anticipated, his
demand was refused, so he gave the agreed signal to his _cuadrilleros_,
who immediately surrounded the guards and disarmed them. Thereupon
Aguinaldo and his companions, being armed, fled at once to the next
post of the civil guard and seized their weapons also. With this
small equipment he and his party escaped into the interior of the
province, towards Silan, situated at the base of the Sungay [178]
Mountain, where the numerous ravines in the slopes running towards
the Lake Bombon (popularly known as the Lake of Taal) afforded a
safe retreat to the rebels. Hundreds of natives soon joined him,
for the secret of Aguinaldo's influence was the widespread popular
belief in his possession of the _anting-anting_ (_vide_ p. 237);
his continuous successes, in the first operations, strengthened this
belief; indeed, he seemed to have the lucky star of a De Wet without
the military genius.
On August 31, 1896, eleven days after the plot was discovered in
Manila, he issued his _pronunciamiento_ simultaneously at his
birthplace, at Novaleta, and at San Francisco de Malabon. This
document, however, is of little historic value, for, instead of
setting forth the aims of the revolutionists, it is simply a wild
exhortation to the people, in general vague terms, to take arms and
free themselves from oppression. In San Francisco de Malabon Aguinaldo
rallied his forces prior to their march to Imus, [179] their great
strategic point. The village itself, situated in the centre of a large,
well-watered plain, surrounded by planted land, was nothing--a mere
collection of wooden or bamboo-and-thatch dwellings. The distance
from Manila would be about 16 miles by land, with good roads leading
to the bay shore towns. The people were very poor, being tenants
or dependents of the friars; hence the only building of importance
was the friars' estate-house, which was really a fortress in the
estimation of the natives. This residence was situated in the middle
of a compound surrounded by massive high walls, and to it some 17
friars fled on the first alarm. For the rebels, therefore, Imus
had a double value--the so-called fortress and the capture of the
priests. After a siege which lasted long enough for General Blanco to
have sent troops against them, the rebels captured Imus estate-house
on September 1, and erected barricades there. Thirteen of the priests
fell into their hands. They cut trenches and threw up earthworks in
several of the main roads of the province, and strengthened their
position at Novaleta. Marauding parties were sent out everywhere
to steal the crops and live-stock, which were conveyed in large
quantities to Imus. Some of the captured priests were treated most
barbarously. One was cut up piecemeal; another was saturated with
petroleum and set on fire, and a third was bathed in oil and fried
on a bamboo spit run through the length of his body. There was a
_Requiem_ Mass for this event. During the first few months of the
rising many such atrocities were committed by the insurgents. The
Naig outrage caused a great sensation in the capital. The lieutenant
had been killed, and the ferocious band of rebels seized his widow
and daughter eleven years old. The child was ravished to death,
and they were just digging a pit to bury the mother alive when she
was rescued and brought to Manila in the steam-launch _Mariposa_
raving mad, disguised as a native woman. Aguinaldo, personally,
was humanely inclined, for at his headquarters he held captive one
Spanish trooper, an army lieutenant, a Spanish planter, a friar, and
two Spanish ladies, all of whom were fairly well treated. The priest
was allowed to read his missal, the lieutenant and trooper were made
blacksmiths, and the planter had to try his hand at tailoring.
The insurgents occupied Paranaque and Las Pinas on the outskirts
of Manila, and when General Blanco had 5,000 fresh troops at his
disposal he still refrained from attacking the rebels in their
positions. Military men, in conversation with me, excused this
inaction on the ground that, to rout the rebels completely without
having sufficient troops to garrison the places taken and to form
flying columns to prevent the insurgents fleeing to the mountain
fastnesses, would only require them to do the work over again when
they reappeared. So General Blanco went on waiting in the hope that
more troops would arrive with which to inflict such a crushing defeat
on the rebels as would ensure a lasting peace. The rebels were in
possession of Imus for several months. Three weeks after they took it,
artillery was slowly carried over to Cavite, which is connected with
the mainland by a narrow isthmus, so the rebels hastened to construct
a long line of trenches immediately to the south of this (_vide_ map),
whereby communication with the heart of the province was effectually
cut off. Not only did their mile and a half of trenches and stockade
check any advance into the interior from the isthmus, but it served
as a rallying-point whence Cavite itself was menaced. The Spaniards,
therefore, forced to take the offensive to save Cavite falling into
rebel hands, made an attack on the Novaleta defences with Spanish
troops and loyal native auxiliaries on November 10. The next day the
Spaniards were repulsed at Binacayan with the loss of one-third of
the 73rd Native Regiment and 60 Spanish troops, with 50 of both corps
wounded. The intention to carry artillery towards Imus was abandoned
and the Spaniards fell back on Dalahican, about a mile north of the
rebel trenches of Novaleta, where they established a camp at which I
spent a whole day. They had four large guns and two bronze mortars;
in the trench adjoining the camp they had one gun. The troops numbered
3,500 Spaniards under the command of General Rios. The 73rd Native
Regiment survivors had quarters there, but they were constantly engaged
in making sorties on the road leading to Manila. No further attempt
was made in General Blanco's time to dislodge the rebels from their
splendidly-constructed trenches, which, however, could easily have
been shelled from the sea side.
A number of supposed promoters of the rebellion filled the Cavite
prison, and I went over to witness the execution of 13 of them on
September 12. I knew two or three of them by sight. One was a Chinese
half-caste, the son of a rich Chinaman then living. The father was
held to be a respectable man of coolie origin, but the son, long
before the rebellion, had a worthless reputation.
In the Provinces of Pampanga and Bulacan, north of Manila, the rebel
mob, under the command of a native of Cabiao (Nueva Ecija) named
Llaneras, was about 3,000 strong. To oppose this Major Lopez Arteaga
had a flying column of 500 men, and between the contending parties
there were repeated encounters with no definite result. Whenever the
rebels were beaten off and pursued they fled to their strongholds
of San Mateo (Manila, now Rizal) and Angat (Bulacan). The Spaniards
made an unsuccessful attempt to dislodge the enemy at Angat, whilst
at San Mateo, where they were supposed to be 5,000 strong, they were
left undisturbed. The rebels attacked Calumpit (Bulacan), pillaged
several houses, decapitated an Englishman's cook, and drove the civil
guard and the parish priest up the belfry tower. On the other side
of the river, Llaneras visited the rice-mills of an Anglo-American
firm, took some refreshment, and assured the manager, Mr. Scott,
that the rebels had not the least intention to interfere with any
foreigners (as distinguished from Spaniards), against whom they had
no complaint whatever.
At length a plan of campaign was prepared, and expeditionary forces
were to march in two directions through the disaffected provinces south
of Manila, and combine, according to circumstances, when the bulk of
the rebels could be driven together. One division operated from the
lake town of Vinan, whilst General Jaramillo took his troops round to
Batangas Province and worked northwards. Before the lake forces had
gone very far they met with a reverse at the hands of the rebels in
the neighbourhood of Carmona, but rallied and pushed on towards the
rebel quarters near Silan, where the enemy was apparently concentrating
for a great struggle. The combined columns under General Jaramillo at
length opened the attack. A pitched battle was fought, and no quarter
was given on either side. This fierce contest lasted a whole day,
and the Spaniards were forced to retire with considerable loss. The
combined operations accomplished nothing decisive, and served only
to check an advance on the capital by the rebels, who were already
in practical possession of the whole of Cavite province excepting
the port, arsenal, and isthmus of Cavite.
In Manila the volunteers mounted guard whilst the regulars went to
the front. For a while the volunteers were allowed to make domiciliary
search, and they did very much as they liked. Domiciliary search was
so much abused that it had to be forbidden, for the volunteers took
to entering any house they chose, and roughly examined the persons of
natives to see if they had the _Katipunan_ brand. Crowds of suspects
were brought into Manila, and shiploads of them were sent away in
local steamers to the Caroline Islands and Mindanao, whilst every
mail-steamer carried batches of them _en route_ for Fernando Po. On
October 1 the s.s. _Manila_ sailed with 300 Filipinos for Chafarinas
Islands, Ceuta, and other African penal settlements. In the local
steamers many of them died on the way. The ordinary prisons were more
than full, and about 600 suspects were confined in the dungeons of Fort
Santiago at the mouth of the Pasig River, where a frightful tragedy
occurred. The dungeons were over-crowded; the river-water filtered in
through the crevices in the ancient masonry; the Spanish sergeant on
duty threw his rug over the only light- and ventilating-shaft, and in
a couple of days carts were seen by many citizens carrying away the
dead, calculated to number 70. Provincial governors and parish priests
seemed to regard it as a duty to supply the capital with batches of
"suspects" from their localities. In Vigan, where nothing had occurred,
many of the heads of the best families and moneyed men were arrested
and brought to Manila in a steamer. They were bound hand and foot,
and carried like packages of merchandise in the hold. I happened to
be on the quay when the steamer discharged her living freight with
chains and hooks to haul up and swing out the bodies like bales of
hemp. From Nueva Caceres (Camarines), the Abellas and several other
rich families and native priests were seized and shipped off. Poor
old Manuel Abella, like scores of others, was tortured in Bilibid
prison and finally shot. He was a notary, unfortunately possessed of a
fine estate coveted by an impecunious Spaniard, who denounced Abella,
and was rewarded by being appointed "Administrator" of his property,
out of which he so enriched himself that he was able, in a few months,
to return to Spain in a good financial position. A friend of mine,
a native planter of Balayan, was imprisoned for months, and then
sent back to his town declared innocent. He had been a marked man
since 1895, just after his son Quintin, a law student, had had a
little altercation with his clerical professors in Manila. Thousands
of peaceful natives were treated with unjustifiable ferocity. The old
torture-chamber on the ground-floor of the convent of Baliuag (Bulacan)
is still shown to visitors. The court-martial, established under
the presidency of a colonel, little by little practised systematic
extortion, for, within three months of the outbreak, hundreds of the
richest natives and half-castes in Manila were imprisoned for a few
days and released _conditionally_. From the lips of my late friend,
Telesforo Chuidian, a wealthy Chinese half-caste, known to all Manila
society, I heard of the squalid misery and privations to which he and
others of his class were subjected, but the complete list would fill
a page. Some were even re-arrested for the same nefarious purpose,
and the daily papers published their names on each occasion. Archbishop
Nozaleda and Gov.-General Blanco were at variance from the beginning of
the revolt, and in accordance with historical precedent it could only
end in one way, namely, that the clerical party advised the Canovas
Ministry to recall the General and appoint in his stead another who
would be obedient to the friars.
General Blanco was not sufficiently sanguinary for the monks. As a
strategist he had refused, at the outset, to undertake with 1,500
European troops a task which was only accomplished by his successor
with 28,000 men. But the priests thought they knew better, and Blanco
left for Spain in December, 1896. The relative positions of the parties
at this crisis stood as follows:--The rebels were in possession of
the whole of the Province of Cavite excepting the city and arsenal of
Cavite and the isthmus connecting that city with the mainland. They
were well fortified at Imus with trenches and stockades extending
from the estate-house fort in several directions, defended by an
army of 6,000 to 7,000 men. Their artillery was most primitive,
however, consisting only of a few small guns called _lantacas_,
some new guns of small calibre roughly cast out of the church bells,
and iron waterpipes of large diameter converted into _mitrailleuse_
mortars. They were strongly entrenched behind a mile and a half of
strategically constructed earthworks defending the town of Novaleta,
which they held. They were supposed to have at least 20,000 men
in occupation there. Including San Francisco de Malabon, Silan,
Perez Dasmarinas, and the several other places they held, their
total force in the whole province was estimated at 35,000 men. About
one-fifth of that number was armed with rifles (chiefly Mauesers), the
remainder carrying bowie-knives and bamboo lances. The bowie-knife was
irresistible by the Spaniards when the native came to close-quarter
fighting. The rebels had ample supplies of rice, buffaloes, etc.,
stolen from the non-combatant natives. To my personal knowledge
they had daily communication with Manila, and knew everything that
was going on there and the public feeling in the capital. They had
failed in the attempt to seize the town of Santa Cruz (La Laguna),
where they killed one Spaniard and then retreated. Loyal natives in
Vinan organized volunteer forces to keep them out of that town. Those
Manila volunteers known as the _Guerrilla a muerte_ battalion, with
a few regulars, frequently patrolled the lake coast in steam-launches
from Manila, and kept the rebels from occupying that district. North
of Manila the rebellion reached no farther than Bulacan and Pampanga
Provinces, where Llaneras's flying column, together with the rebels
in the mountain fastnesses of Angat and San Mateo, amounted to
about 10,000 men. Llaneras notified the Manila-Dagupan (English)
Railway officials that they were to cease carrying loyal troops on
their line; but as those orders were not heeded, a train was wrecked
on November 19 about 20 miles up from the capital. The locomotive
and five carriages were smashed, the permanent-way was somewhat
damaged, five individuals were wounded, and the total loss sustained
was estimated at P40,000. In the last week of November the friars'
estate-house at Malinta, some five miles north of Manila, was in
flames; we could see the blaze from the bay. The slightest reverse
to Spanish arms always drew a further crowd of rebels into the field.
The total European force when General Blanco left was about 10,000
men. In Cavite Province the Spaniards held only the camp of Dalahican,
and the city and arsenal of Cavite with the isthmus. The total number
of suspects shipped away was about 1,000. I was informed by my friend
the Secretary of the Military Court that 4,377 individuals were
awaiting trial by court-martial. The possibility of the insurgents
ever being able to enter the capital was never believed in by the
large majority of Europeans, although from a month after the outbreak
the rebels continued to hold posts within a couple of hours' march
from the old walls. The natives, however, were led to expect that the
rebels would make an attempt to occupy the city on Saint Andrew's Day
(the patron-saint day of Manila, _vide_ p. 50). The British Consul
and a few British merchants were of opinion that a raid on the
capital was imminent, and I, among others, was invited by letter,
dated Manila, November 16, 1896, and written under the authority of
H.B.M.'s Consul, to attend a meeting on the 18th of that month at the
offices of a British establishment to concert measures for escape in
such a contingency. In spite of these fears, business was carried on
without the least apparent interruption.
When General Blanco reached Spain he quietly lodged at the Hotel de
Roma in Madrid, and then took a private residence. Out of courtesy
he was offered a position in the _Cuarto Militar_, which he declined
to accept. For several months he remained under a political cloud,
charged with incompetency to quell the Philippine Rebellion. But there
is something to be said in justification of Blanco's inaction. He was
importuned from the beginning by the relentless Archbishop and many
leading civilians to take the offensive and start a war _a outrance_
with an inadequate number of European soldiers. His 6,000 native
auxiliaries (as it proved later on) could not be relied upon in a
_civil_ war. Against the foreign invader, with Spanish prestige still
high, they would have made good loyal fighting-material. Blanco was
no novice in civil wars. I remember his career during the previous
twenty-five years. With his 700 European troops he parried off the
attacks of the first armed mobs in the Province of Manila (now Rizal),
and defended the city and the approaches to the capital. Five hundred
European troops had to be left, here and there, in Visayas for the
ordinary defence. Before the balance of 300 could be embarked in half
a dozen places in the south and landed in Manila, the whole Province
of Cavite was in arms. He could not leave the defence of the city
entirely in the hands of untrained and undrilled volunteers and march
the whole of his European regular troops into another province. A
severe reverse, on the first encounter, might have proved fatal
to Spanish sovereignty. Blanco had the enormous disadvantage (one
must live there to appreciate it) of the wet season, and the rebels
understood this. He had, therefore, to damp the movement by feigning
to attach to it as little importance as possible. Lastly, Blanco was
a man of moderate and humane tendencies; a colonial governor of the
late Martinez Campos school, whose policy is--when all honourable
peaceful means are exhausted, use force.
The Canovas party was broken up by the assassination of the Prime
Minister on August 8, 1897. This ministry was followed by the
provisional Azcarraga Cabinet, which, at the end of six weeks, was
superseded by the Liberal party under the leadership of Praxedes
Sagasta, who, to temporize with America, recalled the inflexible
General Weyler from Cuba, and on October 9 appointed General Ramon
Blanco, Marquis de Pena Plata, to take the command there.
General Camilo Polavieja (Marquis de Polavieja) arrived in Manila in
December, 1896, as the successor of Blanco and the chosen _Messiah_
of the friars. He had made a great name in Cuba as an _energetic_
military leader, which, in Spanish colonies, always implied a tinge
of wanton cruelty. In Spain he was regarded as the right arm of the
ultra-clericals and a possible supporter of Carlism. He was accompanied
by General Lachambre, whose acquaintance I made in Havana. In the
same steamer with General Polavieja came 500 troops, whilst another
steamer simultaneously brought 1,500. Polavieja, therefore, on landing,
had about 12,000 European troops and 6,000 native auxiliaries; but
each steamer brought fresh supplies until the total European land
forces amounted to 28,000. By this time, however, the 6,000 native
troops were very considerably reduced by desertion, and the remainder
could hardly be relied upon. But Polavieja started his campaign with
the immense advantage of having the _whole_ of the dry season before
him. General Lachambre, as Deputy Commander of the forces, at once took
the field against the rebels in Cavite Province. It would be tedious
to relate in detail the numerous encounters with the enemy over this
area. Battles were fought at Naig, Maragondon, Perez Dasmarinas,
Nasugbu, Taal, Bacoor, Novaleta, and other places. Imus, which in
Manila was popularly supposed to be a fortress of relative magnitude,
whence the rebels would dispute every inch of ground, was attacked
by a large force of loyal troops. On their approach the rebels set
fire to the village and fled. Very few remained to meet the Spaniards,
and as these few tried to escape across the paddy-fields and down the
river they were picked off by sharp-shooters. It was a victory for the
Spaniards, inasmuch as their demonstration of force scared the rebels
into evacuation. But it was necessary to take Silan, which the rebels
hastened to strengthen, closely followed up by the Spaniards. The
place was well defended by earthworks and natural parapets, and
for several hours the issue of the contest was doubtful. The rebels
fought bravely, leaping from boulder to boulder to meet the foe. In
every close-quarter combat the bowie-knife had a terrible effect, and
the loyal troops had suffered heavily when a column of Spaniards was
marched round to the rear of the rebels' principal parapet. They were
lowered down with ropes on to a rising ground facing this parapet, and
poured in a continuous rifle fire until the rebels had to evacuate it,
and the general rout commenced with great slaughter to the insurgents,
who dispersed in all directions. Their last stronghold south of Manila
having been taken, they broke up into small detachments, which were
chased and beaten wherever they made a stand. The Spaniards suffered
great losses, but they gained their point, for the rebels, unable
to hold any one place against this onslaught, were driven up to the
Laguna Province and endeavoured unsuccessfully to hold the town of
Santa Cruz. It is interesting to remark, in order to show what the
rebel aim at that time really was, that they entered here with the
cry of "Long live Spain; Death to the Friars!" After three months'
hard fighting, General Lachambre was proclaimed the Liberator of Cavite
and the adjoining districts, for, by the middle of March, 1897, every
rebel contingent of any importance in that locality had been dispersed.
Like every other Spanish general in supreme command abroad, Polavieja
had his enemies in Spain. The organs of the Liberal party attacked him
unsparingly. Polavieja, as everybody knew, was the chosen executive
of the friars, whose only care was to secure their own position. He
was dubbed the "General Cristiano." He was their ideal, and worked
hand-in-hand with them. He cabled for more troops to be sent with
which to garrison the reconquered districts and have his army corps
free to stamp out the rebellion, which was confined to the Northern
Provinces. Cuba, which had already drained the Peninsula of over
200,000 men, still required fresh levies to replace the sick and
wounded, and Polavieja's demand was refused. Immediately after
this he cabled that his physical ailments compelled him to resign
the commandership-in-chief, and begged the Government to appoint a
successor. The Madrid journals hostile to him thereupon indirectly
attributed to him a lie, and questioned whether his resignation was
due to ill-health or his resentment of the refusal to send out more
troops. Still urging his resignation, General Fernando Primo de Rivera
was gazetted to succeed him, and Polavieja embarked at Manila for Spain
on April 15, 1897. General Lachambre, as the hero of Cavite, followed
to receive the applause which was everywhere showered upon him in
Spain. As to Polavieja's merits, public opinion was very much divided,
and as soon as it was known that he was on the way, a controversy was
started in the Madrid press as to how he ought to be received. _El
Imparcial_ maintained that he was worthy of being honoured as a 19th
century conquering hero. This gave rise to a volley of abuse on the
other side, who raked up all his antecedents and supposed tendencies,
and openly denounced him as a dangerous politician and the supporter
of theocratic absolutism. According to _El Liberal_ of May 11, Senor
Ordax Avecilla, of the Red Cross Society, stated in his speech at
the Madrid Mercantile Club, "If he (the General) thought of becoming
dictator, he would fall from the heights of his glory to the Hades
of nonentity." His enemies persistently insinuated that he was really
returning to Spain to support the clericals actively. But perhaps the
bitterest satire was levelled against him in _El Pais_ of May 10,
which, in an article headed "The Great Farce," said: "Do you know
who is coming? Cyrus, King of Persia; Alexander, King of Macedonia;
Caesar Augustus; Scipio the African; Gonzalo de Cordova; Napoleon, the
Great Napoleon, conqueror of worlds. What? Oh, unfortunate people,
do you not know? Polavieja is coming, the incomparable Polavieja,
crowned with laurels, commanding a fleet laden to the brim with rich
trophies; it is Polavieja, gentlemen, who returns, discoverer of new
worlds, to lay at the feet of Isabella the Catholic his conquering
sword; it is Polavieja who returns after having cast into obscurity
the glories of Hernan Cortes; Polavieja, who has widened the national
map, and brings new territories to the realm--new thrones to his
queen. What can the people be thinking of that they remain thus in
silence? Applaud, imbeciles! It is Narvaez who is resuscitated. Now
we have another master!" No Spanish general who had arrived at
Polavieja's position would find it possible to be absolutely neutral
in politics, but to compare him with Narvaez, the military dictator,
proved in a few days' time to be the grossest absurdity. On May
13 Polavieja arrived in Barcelona physically broken, half blind,
and with evident traces of a disordered liver. His detractors were
silent; an enthusiastic crowd welcomed him for his achievements. He
had broken the neck of the rebellion, but by what means? Altogether,
apart from the circumstances of legitimate warfare, in which probably
neither party was more merciful than the other, he initiated a system
of striking terror into the non-combatant population by barbarous
tortures and wholesale executions. On February 6, 1897, in one
prison alone (Bilibid) there were 1,266 suspects, most of whom were
brought in by the volunteers, for the forces in the field gave little
quarter and rarely made prisoners. The functions of the volunteers,
organized originally for the defence of the city and suburbs, became
so elastic that, night after night, they made men and women come
out of their houses for inspection conducted most indecorously. The
men were escorted to the prisons from pure caprice, and subjected to
excessive maltreatment. Many of them were liberated in the course of a
few days, declared innocent, but maimed for life and for ever unable
to get a living. Some of these victims were well known to everybody
in Manila; for instance, Dr. Zamora, Bonifacio Arevalo the dentist,
Antonio Rivero (who died under torture), and others. The only apparent
object in all this was to disseminate broadcast living examples of
Spanish vengeance, in order to overawe the populace. Under General
Blanco's administration such acts had been distinctly prohibited on
the representation of General Carlos Roca.
Polavieja's rule brought the brilliant career of the notable Filipino,
Dr. Jose Rizal y Mercado, to a fatal end. Born in Calamba (La Laguna),
three hours' journey from Manila, on June 19, 1861, he was destined
to become the idol of his countrymen, and consequently the victim of
the friars and General Polavieja. Often have I, together with the old
native parish priest, Father Leoncio Lopez, spent an hour with Jose's
father, Francisco Mercado, and heard the old man descant, with pride,
on the intellectual progress of his son at the Jesuits' school in
Manila. Before he was fourteen years of age he wrote a melodrama in
verse entitled _Junto al Pasig_ ("Beside the Pasig River"), which was
performed in public and well received. But young Jose yearned to set
out on a wider field of learning. His ambition was to go to Europe,
and at the age of twenty-one he went to Spain, studied medicine,
and entered the Madrid University, where he graduated as Doctor of
Medicine and Philosophy. He subsequently continued his studies in
Paris, Brussels, London, and at several seats of learning in Germany,
where he obtained another degree, notwithstanding the fact that he had
the difficulty of a foreign language to contend with. As happened to
many of his _confreres_ in the German Universities, a career of study
had simultaneously opened his eyes to a clearer conception of the
rights of humanity. Thrown among companions of socialistic tendencies,
his belief in and loyalty to the monarchical rule of his country were
yet unshaken by the influence of such environment; he was destined
only to become a disturbing element, and a would-be reformer of that
time-worn institution which rendered secular government in his native
land a farce. To give him a party name, he became an anti-clerical,
strictly in a political and lawful sense. He was a Roman Catholic, but
his sole aim, outside his own profession, was to save his country from
the baneful influence of the Spanish friars who there held the Civil
and Military Government under their tutelage. He sought to place his
country on a level of material and moral prosperity with others, and he
knew that the first step in that direction was to secure the expulsion
of the Monastic Orders. He sympathized with that movement which, during
his childhood, culminated in the Cavite Conspiracy (_vide_ p. 106). He
looked profoundly into the causes of his country's unhappiness, and to
promote their knowledge, in a popular form, he wrote and published in
Germany, in the Spanish language, a book entitled "Noli me tangere." It
is a censorious satirical novel, of no great literary merit, but it
served the author's purpose to expose the inner life, the arrogance,
and the despotism of the friars in their relations with the natives. On
his return to the Islands, a year after the publication of this work,
we met at the house of a mutual friend and conversed on the subject of
"Noli me tangere," a copy of which he lent to me.
As an oculist Rizal performed some very clever operations, but he
had another mission--one which brought upon him all the odium of the
clerical party, but which as quickly raised him in popular esteem in
native circles. He led a party in his own town who dared to dispute
the legality of the Dominican Order's possession of a large tract of
agricultural land. He called upon the Order to show their title-deeds,
but was met with a contemptuous refusal. At length prudence dictated
a return to Europe. I often recall the farewell lunch we had together
at the Restaurant de Paris, in the _Escolta_. During his absence his
own relations and the chief families in his town became the objects
of persecution. They were driven from the lands they cultivated and
rented from the Religious Order, without compensation for improvements,
and Spaniards took their holdings. In 1890 Rizal saw with his own eyes,
and perhaps with envy, the growing prosperity of Japan; but the idea
of annexation to that country was distasteful to him, as he feared
the Japanese might prove to be rather harsh masters. On his return to
Europe he contributed many brilliant articles to _La Solidaridad_, the
Madrid-Philippine organ mentioned on p. 363; but, disgusted with his
failure to awaken in Spain a sympathetic interest in his own country's
misfortunes, he left that field of work and re-visited London, where he
found encouragement and very material assistance from an old friend of
mine, a distinguished Filipino. Rizal's financial resources were none
too plentiful, and he himself was anxious for a position of productive
activity. It was proposed that he should establish himself in London
as a doctor, but with his mind always bent on the concerns of his
country he again took to literary work. He edited a new edition of
Dr. Antonio de Morga's work on the Philippines [180] (the original
was published in Mexico in 1609), with notes, and wrote a new book in
the form of romance, entitled "El Filibusterismo," [181] the purpose
of which was to show how the Filipinos were goaded into outlawry.
About this time two priests, C---- and C----, who had seceded from
the Roman Catholic Church, called upon my Philippine friend to urge
him to take an interest in their projected evangelical work in the
Islands. They even proposed to establish a new Church there and appoint
a hierarchy--an extremely risky venture indeed. My friend was asked
to nominate some Filipino for the archbishopric. It was put before
Rizal, but he declined the honour on the ground that the acceptance
of such an office would sorely offend his mother. Finally, in 1893,
a Pampanga Filipino, named C----, came on the scene and proposed to
furnish Rizal with ample funds for the establishment of a Philippine
college in Hong-Kong. Rizal accepted the offer and set out for that
colony, where he waited in vain for the money. For a while he hesitated
between following the medical profession in Hong-Kong and returning
to Manila. Mutual friends of ours urged him not to risk a re-entry
into the Islands; nevertheless, communications passed between him
and the Gov.-General through the Spanish Consul, and nothing could
induce him to keep out of the lion's mouth. Rizal avowed that he had
been given to understand that he could return to the Islands without
fear for his personal safety and liberty. He arrived in Manila and was
arrested. His luggage was searched in the Custom-house, and a number
of those seditious proclamations referred to at p. 204 were found,
it was alleged, in his trunks. It is contrary to all common sense to
conceive that a sane man, who had entertained the least doubt as to
his personal liberty, would bring with him, into a public department of
scrutiny, documentary evidence of his own culpability. He was arraigned
before the supreme authority, in whose presence he defended himself
right nobly. The clerical party wanted his blood, but Gov.-General
Despujols would not yield. Rizal was either guilty or innocent,
and should have been fully acquitted or condemned; but to meet the
matter half way he was banished to Dapitan, a town on the north shore
of Mindanao Island. I saw the bungalow, situated at the extremity of
a pretty little horse-shoe bay, where he lived nearly four years in
bondage. His bright intelligence, his sociability, and his scientific
attainments had won him the respect and admiration of both the civil
and religious local authorities. He had such a well-justified good
repute as an oculist that many travelled across the seas to seek his
aid. The Cuban insurrection being in full operation, it opened the
way for a new and interesting period in Rizal's life. Reading between
the lines of the letters he was allowed to send to his friends, there
was evidence of his being weighed down with _ennui_ from inactivity,
and his friends in Europe took the opportunity of bringing pressure
on the Madrid Government to liberate him. In a house which I visit
in London there were frequent consultations as to how this could be
effected. In the end it was agreed to organize a bogus "Society for
the Liberation of Prisoners in the Far East." A few ladies met at the
house mentioned, and one of them, Miss A----, having been appointed
secretary, she was sent to Madrid to present a petition from the
"Society" to the Prime Minister, Canovas del Castillo, praying for
the liberation of Rizal in exchange for his professional services
in the Spanish army operating in Cuba, where army doctors were much
needed. Hints were deftly thrown out about the "Society's" relations
with other European capitals, and the foreign lady-secretary played
her part so adroitly that the Prime Minister pictured to himself
ambassadorial intervention and foreign complications if he did not
grant the prayer of what he imagined to be an influential society with
potential ramifications. The Colonial Minister opposed the petition;
the War Minister, being Philippine born, declined to act on his own
responsibility for obvious reasons. Repeated discussions took place
between the Crown advisers, to whom, at length, the Prime Minister
disclosed his fears, and finally the Gov.-General of the Philippines,
Don Ramon Blanco, was authorized to liberate Rizal, on the terms
mentioned, if he saw no objection. As my Philippine friend, who went
from London to Madrid about the matter, remarked to the War Minister,
"Rizal is loyal; he will do his duty; but if he did not, one more or
less in the rebel camp--what matters?" The Gov.-General willingly
acted on the powers received from the Home Government, and Rizal's
conditional freedom dated from July 28, 1896. The governor of Dapitan
was instructed to ask Rizal if he wished to go to Cuba as an army
doctor, and the reply being in the affirmative, he was conducted on
board the steamer for Manila, calling on the way at Cebu, where crowds
of natives and half-castes went on board to congratulate him. He had
become the idol of the people in his exile; his ideas were _then_
the reflection of all Philippine aims and ambitions; the very name of
Rizal raised their hopes to the highest pitch. Most fantastic reports
were circulated concerning him. Deeds in Europe, almost amounting
to miracles, were attributed to his genius, and became current talk
among the natives when they spoke _sotto voce_ of Rizal's power and
influence. He was looked up to as the future regenerator of his race,
capable of moving armies and navies for the cause of liberty. Their
very reverence was his condemnation in the eyes of the priests.
There were no inter-island cables in those days, and the arrival
of Rizal in the port of Manila was a surprise to the friars. They
expostulated with General Blanco. They openly upbraided him for
having set free the soul of disaffection; but the general would not
relinquish his intention, explaining, very logically, that if Rizal
were the soul of rebellion he was now about to depart. The friars were
eager for Rival's blood, and the parish priest of Tondo arranged
a revolt of the _caudrilleros_ (guards) of that suburb, hoping
thereby to convince General Blanco that the rebellion was in full
cry, consequent on his folly. No doubt, by this trick of the friars,
many civilian Spaniards were deceived into an honest belief in the
ineptitude of the Gov.-General. In a state of frenzy a body of them,
headed by Father Mariano Gil, marched to the palace of Malacanan to
demand an explanation of General Blanco. The gates were closed by order
of the captain of the guard. When the general learnt what the howling
outside signified he mounted his horse, and, at the head of his guards,
met the excited crowd and ordered them to quit the precincts of the
palace, or he would put them out by force. The abashed priest [182]
thereupon withdrew with his companions, but from that day the occult
power of the friars was put in motion to bring about the recall of
General Blanco. In the meantime Rizal had been detained in the Spanish
cruiser _Castilla_ lying in the bay. Thence he was transferred to the
mail-steamer _Isla de Panay_ bound to Barcelona. He carried with him
letters of recommendation to the Ministers of War and the Colonies,
courteously sent to him by General Blanco with the following letter
to himself:--
(_Translation_.)
_Manila_, _30th August_, 1896.
_Dr. Jose Rizal_.
_My Dear Sir_,--
Enclosed I send you two letters, for the Ministers of War and the
Colonies respectively, which I believe will ensure to you a good
reception. I cannot doubt that you will show me respect in your
relations with the Government, and by your future conduct, not only
on account of your word pledged, but because passing events must make
it clear to you how certain proceedings, due to extravagant notions
can only produce hatred, ruin, tears and bloodshed. That you may be
happy is the desire of Yours, etc.,
_Ramon Blanco_.
He had as travelling companion Don Pedro P. Rojas, already referred
to, and had he chosen he could have left the steamer at Singapore as
Rojas did. Not a few of us who saw the vessel leave wished him "God
speed." But the clerical party were eager for his extermination. He
was a thorn in the side of monastic sway; he had committed no crime,
but he was the friars' arch-enemy and _bete noire_. Again the lay
authorities had to yield to the monks. Dr. Rizal was cabled for to
answer certain accusations; hence on his landing in the Peninsula he
was incarcerated in the celebrated fortress of Montjuich (the scene of
so many horrors), pending his re-shipment by the returning steamer. He
reached Manila as a State prisoner in the _Colon_, isolated from all
but his jailors. It was materially impossible for him to have taken
any part in the rebellion, whatever his sympathies may have been. Yet,
once more, the wheel of fortune turned against him. Coincidentally the
parish priest of Morong was murdered at the altar whilst celebrating
Mass on Christmas Day, 1896. The importunity of the friars could be
no longer resisted; this new calamity seemed to strengthen their
cause. The next day Rizal was brought to trial for _sedition_ and
_rebellion_, before a court-martial composed of eight captains,
under the presidency of a lieutenant-colonel. No reliable testimony
could be brought against him. How could it be when, for years, he had
been a State prisoner in forced seclusion? He defended himself with
logical argument. But what mattered? He was condemned beforehand to
ignominious death as a traitor, and the decree of execution was one of
Polavieja's foulest acts. During the few days which elapsed between
sentence and death he refused to see any priest but a Jesuit, Padre
Faura, his old preceptor, who hastened his own death by coming from a
sick bed to console the pupil he was so proud of. In his last moments
his demeanour was in accordance with his oft-quoted saying, "What is
death to me? I have sown the seed; others are left to reap." In his
condemned cell he composed a beautiful poem of 14 verses ("My last
Thought"), which was found by his wife and published. The following
are the first and last verses.
_Mi Ultimo Pensamiento_.
Adios, Patria adorada, region del sol querida,
Perla del Mar de Oriente, nuestro perdido Eden.
A darte voy alegre la triste mustia vida,
Y fuera mas brillante, mas fresca, mas florida,
Tambien por ti la diera, la diera por tu bien.
Adios, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mia.
Amigos de la infancia en el perdido hogar.
Dad gracias que descanso del fatigoso dia;
Adios, dulce extrangera, mi amiga, mi alegria,
Adios, queridos seres, morir es descansar.
The woman who had long responded to his love was only too proud to
bear his illustrious name, and in the sombre rays which fell from his
prison grating, the vows of matrimony were given and sanctified with
the sad certainty of widowhood on the morrow. Fortified by purity of
conscience and the rectitude of his principles, he felt no felon's
remorse, but walked with equanimity to the place of execution. About
2,000 regular and volunteer troops formed the square where he knelt
facing the seashore, on the blood-stained field of Bagumbayan. After an
officer had shouted the formula, "In the name of the King! Whosoever
shall raise his voice to crave clemency for the condemned, shall
suffer death," four bullets, fired from behind by Philippine soldiers,
did their fatal work. This execution took place at 6 a.m. on December
30, 1896. An immense crowd witnessed, in silent awe, this sacrifice
to priestcraft. The friars, too, were present _en masse_, many of
them smoking big cigars, jubilant over the extinction of that bright
intellectual light which, alas! can never be rekindled.
The circumstances under which Rizal, in his exile, made the
acquaintance of Josephine Taufer, who became his wife, are curious. The
account was given to me by Mrs. Rizal's foster-father as we crossed the
China Sea together. The foster-father, who was an American resident in
Hong-Kong, found his eyesight gradually failing him. After exhausting
all remedies in that colony, he heard of a famous oculist in Manila
named Rizal, a Filipino of reputed Japanese origin. Therefore,
in August, 1894, he went to Manila to seek the great doctor, taking
with him a Macao servant, his daughter, and a girl whom he had adopted
from infancy. The Philippine Archipelago was such a _terra incognita_
to the outside world that little was generally known of it save the
capital, Manila. When he reached there he learnt, to his dismay,
that the renowned practitioner was a political exile who lived in
an out-of-the-way place in Mindanao Island. Intent on his purpose,
he took ship and found the abode of Dr. Rizal. The American had been
forsaken by his daughter in Manila, where she eventually married a
young native who had neither craft nor fortune. The adopted daughter,
therefore, was his companion to Dapitan. When they arrived at the
bungalow the bright eyes of the lovely Josephine interested the doctor
far more than the sombre diseased organs of her foster-father. The
exile and the maiden, in short, fell in love with each other, and they
mutually vowed never to be parted but by force. The old man's eyes
were past all cure, and in vain he urged the girl to depart with him;
love dissented from the proposition, and the patient found his way
back to Manila, and thence to Hong-Kong, with his Macao servant--a
sadder, but a wiser man. The foster-child remained behind to share
the hut of the political exile. When, an hour after her marriage,
she became Widow Rizal, her husband's corpse, which had received
sepulture in the cemetery, was guarded by soldiers for four days lest
the superstitious natives should snatch the body and divide it into
a thousand relics of their lamented idol. Then Josephine started
off for the rebel camp at Imus. On her way she was often asked,
"Who art thou?" but her answer, "Lo! I am thy sister, the widow of
Rizal!" not only opened a passage for her, but brought low every head
in silent reverence. Amidst mourning and triumph she was conducted to
the presence of the rebel commander-in-chief, Emilio Aguinaldo, who
received her with the respect due to the sorrowing relict of their
departed hero. But the formal tributes of condolence were followed
by great rejoicing in the camp. She was the only free white woman
within the rebel lines. They lauded her as though an angelic being
had fallen from the skies; they sang her praises as if she were a
modern Joan of Arc sent by heaven to lead the way to victory over
the banner of Castile. But she chose, for the time being, to follow a
more womanly vocation, and, having been escorted to San Francisco de
Malabon, she took up her residence in the convent to tend the wounded
for about three weeks. Then, when the battle of Perez Dasmarinas was
raging, our heroine sallied forth on horseback with a Maeuser rifle
over her shoulder, and--as she stated with pride to a friend of mine
who interviewed her--she had the satisfaction of shooting dead one
Spanish officer, and then retreated to her convent refuge. Again,
she was present at the battle of Silan, where her heroic example of
courage infused new life into her brother rebels. The carnage on both
sides was fearful, but in the end the rebels fell back, and there,
from a spot amidst mangled corpses, rivulets of blood, and groans of
death, Josephine witnessed many a scene of Spanish barbarity--the
butchery of old inoffensive men and women, children caught up by
the feet and dashed against the walls, and the bayonet-charge on the
host of fugitive innocents. The rebels having been beaten everywhere
when Lachambre took the field, Josephine had to follow in their
retreat, and after Imus and Silan were taken, she, with the rest,
had to flee to another province, tramping through 23 villages on
the way. She was about to play another _role_, being on the point
of going to Manila to organize a convoy of arms and munitions, when
she heard that certain Spaniards were plotting against her life. So
she sought an interview with the Gov.-General, who asked her if she
had been in the rebel camp at Imus. She replied fearlessly in the
affirmative, and, relying on the security from violence afforded
by her sex and foreign nationality, there passed between her and
the Gov.-General quite an amusing and piquant colloquy. "What did
you go to Imus for?" inquired the General. "What did you go there
for?" rejoined Josephine. "To fight," said the General. "So did I,"
answered Josephine. "Will you leave Manila?" asked the General. "Why
should I?" queried Josephine. "Well," said the General, "the priests
will not leave you alone if you stay here, and they will bring false
evidence against you. I have no power to overrule theirs." "Then
what is the use of the Gov.-General?" pursued our heroine; but the
General dismissed the discussion, which was becoming embarrassing,
and resumed it a few days later by calling upon her emphatically to
quit the Colony. At this second interview the General fumed and raged,
and our heroine too stamped her little foot, and, woman-like, avowed
"she did not care for him; she was not afraid of him." It was temerity
born of inexperience, for one word of command from the General could
have sent her the way many others had gone, to an unrevealed fate. Thus
matters waxed hot between her defiance and his forbearance, until
visions of torture--thumb-screws and bastinado--passed so vividly
before her eyes that she yielded, as individual force must, to the
collective power which rules supreme, and reluctantly consented to
leave the fair Philippine shores in May, 1897, in the s.s. _Yuensang_,
for a safer resting-place on the British soil of Hong-Kong.
The execution of Dr. Rizal was a most impolitic act. It sent into
the field his brother Pasciano with a large following, who eventually
succeeded in driving every Spaniard out of their native province of
La Laguna. They also seized the lake gunboats, took an entire Spanish
garrison prisoner, and captured a large quantity of stores. Pasciano
rose to the rank of general before the rebellion ended. [183]