CHAPTER II

THE PHILIPPINES OF THE PAST

How have the Philippines come to present such a unique combination of

Spanish and Malay civilization? Let us look into their past. We find for

the early days myths and legends, preserved by oral tradition. Two

quaint stories told by the primitive mountain people, which show how

they believe the Islands first came into being and how the first man and

woman entered into this world, are worth transcribing for their naïve

simplicity:

"A long time ago there was no land. There were only the sea and the sky.

A bird was flying in the sky. It grew tired flying. It wanted something

to rest upon. The bird was very cunning. It set the sea and sky to

quarreling. The sea threw water up at the sky. The sky turned very dark

and angry. Then the angry sky showered down upon the sea all the

Islands. That is how the Islands came."

This second tale is even more child-like:

"A great bamboo grew on one of the Islands. It was very large around,

larger than any of the others. The bird lit on the ground and began to

peck the bamboo. A voice inside said, 'Peck harder, peck harder.' The

bird was frightened at first, but it wanted to know what was inside. So

it pecked and pecked. Still the voice said, 'Peck harder, peck harder.'

At last a great crack split the bamboo from the bottom to the top. Out

stepped a man and a woman. The bird was so frightened that it flew away.

The man bowed very low to the woman, for they had lived in different

joints of the bamboo and had never seen each other before. They were the

first man and woman in the world."

These natives believe there are good and evil spirits, and they invoke

the agency of the latter to explain the mystery of death. They say the

first death occurred when the evil spirit lightning became angry with

man and hurled a dangerous bolt to earth.

The first suggestion of real history is found in the traditions that

tell of Malays from the south who came and settled on these islands. It

is said a race of small black people were already here--the

Negritos--who resembled the African negroes, and who retired into the

hills before the invaders.

Next we hear of a Mohammedan priest who came to the southern

Philippines and gave the people his religion. His followers have to this

day been called Moros.

It was more than two centuries before Captain Cook visited Hawaii, that

white men discovered the Philippines. Magellan, the famous Portuguese

navigator, while sailing in the service of Spain, landed on Mindanao and

Cebu, and took possession of the group in the name of the Spanish king.

Before starting from Seville on this voyage around the world, Magellan

had already spent seven years in India and sailed as far as Sumatra, so

he already knew this part of the world. This time he was in search of

the Spice Islands and of a passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific

Ocean. He had touched first at Teneriffe and then crossed the Atlantic

to Brazil, making his way along the coast of South America. There were

many hardships and difficulties to contend with, and mutiny in the fleet

resulted in several deaths. But, as we all know, he persevered, and on

the 15th of October, 1520, discovered the straits which were named after

him.

The Ladrones were reached after fourteen tedious weeks, and on St.

Lazarus' day, in 1521, the Philippines were sighted and named by him for

the saint. In the early times they were sometimes referred to by the

Spaniards as the Eastern, and later as the Western, Islands. They were

finally named the Philippines by Ruy Lopez de Villalobos, after his

king, Philip the Second.

Magellan was quite unlike Captain Cook, whose visit to Hawaii has been

mentioned. He was a nobleman and full of the religious enthusiasm that

fired the Spaniards of his day. He was accompanied by several friars,

who at once began missionary work among the natives, and only a week

after his arrival the Cebuan chief and his warriors were baptized into

the Christian faith. Unfortunately, Magellan took sides with the Cebuans

in their warfare against a neighbouring tribe, and in the battle he was

killed. After his death, the same chieftain turned on Magellan's

followers, but some escaped to their ships. Out of two hundred and fifty

men who had set sail three years before, only eighteen, after suffering

incredible hardships on the long journey by way of India and the Cape of

Good Hope, returned safely to Spain.

The next explorer who touched at the Islands was the Englishman, Sir

Francis Drake, of Spanish Armada fame, who sailed in 1570 on a voyage

round the world. We also hear of another Briton, William Dampier, a

noted free-booter, who, in 1685, tried to cross the Isthmus of Panama

with Captain Sharp. Three times he sailed round the world, and touched

at the northern as well as the southern Philippine Islands.

Magellan, Drake and Dampier gave the western world much knowledge of the

Far East, but did not remain long enough in the Islands to have any

great or lasting influence over the natives. The work of civilizing them

was left to Legaspi and the Spanish friars, who were the first real

settlers.

In 1565, the Philippines were occupied by an expedition under Miguel

Lopez de Legaspi, _alcalde_ of the City of Mexico, who was charged to

open a new route to Java and the Southern Islands. On his return voyage

he was to examine the ports of the Philippines, and, if expedient, to

found a colony there. In any case he was to establish trade with the

Islands. The viceroy of Mexico charged him that the friars with the

expedition were to be treated with the utmost consideration, "since you

are aware that the chief thing sought after by His Majesty is the

increase of our holy Catholic faith and the salvation of the souls of

those infidels."

Cebu was occupied, and Manila was taken and made the seat of

government. The occupation of the Islands was not exactly by force of

arms, for there was no fighting, although they found the islands well

populated and the people more or less armed. The natives seemed to

recognize and submit to a better government and religion than they had

ever known. The reports of the Spaniards of the time speak of the

success of small expeditions of perhaps a hundred men, who took over

whole provinces. These soldiers were accompanied by Spanish priests, who

settled among the people, preaching Christianity in the native tongues.

The friars persuaded them to give up their continual feuds and submit to

the central authority which the friars represented.

Legaspi brought with him from Mexico four hundred Spanish soldiers.

Later eight hundred more arrived, and civilian Spaniards, both married

and single, sailed to the Islands as settlers. In 1591, according to the

records of Spanish grants, there were 667,612 natives under Spanish

rule, and twenty-seven officials to enforce the laws and preserve order.

It was reported that in a majority of the grants there was peace,

justice and religious instruction. There were Augustinian, Dominican and

Franciscan friars as well as secular clergy. These men were not only

priests but also fighters and organizers, and did fine work for many

years, until long-continued possession of power gradually made the

orders corrupt and grasping.

Upon their first arrival, the Spaniards found the people established in

small villages, or _barangays_, where the chief lived surrounded by his

slaves and followers. It was considered wise to continue this system,

ruling the villages through the local chieftain, whom the Spaniards

called _cabeza de barangay_. Churches were erected, convent houses were

built about them, and the natives were urged to gather near by. It was

ordered that "elementary schools should be established, in which the

Indians will be taught not only Christian doctrine and reading and

writing but also arts and trades, so that they may become not only good

Christians but also useful citizens."

So at the end of the sixteenth century the Philippines were at peace.

The natives were allowed to move from one town to another, but they were

required to obtain permission, in order to prevent them from wandering

about without religious instruction. The tendency of the Malays is to

separate into small groups, and they have never been dwellers in large

towns. The Spanish priests, therefore, found a constant effort

necessary to keep them concentrated about the churches "under the

bells."

[Illustration: "UNDER THE BELLS."]

The fervour of religious reform which started in Germany was followed by

an equal fervour within the Roman Catholic Church. The period of Julius

II and Leo X was over; the Council of Trent had met. Ignatius Loyola had

seen his visions and sent forth his company, and Spain was full of

priests eager to serve God with the same stern energy which the previous

generation had shown in the search for lands and gold and fabulous gems.

No duty was so grave as that of conformity to the Church, no stigma so

galling as that of heretic. To convert the heathen was an obligation

binding upon all men. All Spanish colonies were missions; the

Philippines were always rather a mission than a colony.

Until the revolt of 1896, Spain never found it necessary to hold the

Islands by armed force; her dominion there was based rather on her

conquest of the minds and souls of men. There had been a few uprisings,

however, and early in the eighteenth century a Spanish governor and his

son were murdered by a mob. But notwithstanding occasional difficulties,

in the main there was peace until the civil service of the Philippines

was assimilated with that of Spain. Then officials became dependent upon

their supporters at home, and were changed with every change of the

ministry. Some Spaniard writing at the time said that with the opening

of the Suez Canal Spanish office holders descended on the Islands like

locusts.

At the end of the nineteenth century, the Spanish army had grown to

17,859 of all ranks, only 3,005 of whom were Spaniards, and there was a

constabulary of over 3,000 officers and men, who were almost entirely

natives. The rule of Spain was secured by a native army. There could

have been no widespread discontent, or that army would not have remained

true to its allegiance, especially as its recruits were obtained by

conscription.

The chronicles remind us, however, that the Spaniards did not have

things all their own way. In the early days, they were at first friendly

with the Chinese, and Mexico carried on a flourishing trade with China

by way of Manila until the pirate Li Ma Hong raided the Islands. The

Spaniards were on good terms with the Japanese until the latter

massacred the Jesuit friars in Japan. When the Shogun Iyeyasu expelled

the priests he sent away even those who were caring for the lepers, and

as a final insult, he sent to Manila three junks loaded with lepers,

with a letter to the governor general of the Philippines, in which he

said that, as the Spanish friars were so anxious to provide for the poor

and needy, he sent him a cargo of men who were in truth sore afflicted.

Only the ardent appeals of the friars saved these unfortunates and their

contaminated vessels from being sunk in Manila Bay. Finally the governor

yielded, and these poor creatures were landed and housed in the leper

hospital of San Lazaro, which was then established for their reception

and which remains to-day.

The Spanish governors were also hampered by the lack of effective

support from the older colony of Mexico, which was so much nearer than

the home land that they naturally turned to it for aid. One of them

wrote pathetically to the King of Spain:

"And for the future ... will your Majesty ordain that Mexico shall

furnish what pertains to its part. For, if I ask for troops, they send

me twenty men, who die before they arrive here, and none are born here.

And if I ask for ammunition, they laugh at me and censure me, and say

that I ask impossible things. They retain there the freight money and

the duties; and if they should send to this state what is yours, your

Majesty would have to spend but little from your royal patrimony."

The Portuguese were a source of anxiety to the colonists until Portugal

fell into the hands of Spain. The Dutch, too, who were growing powerful

in the Far East, even took Formosa, which brought them altogether too

near, but they were driven out of that island by the great Chinese

pirate Koxinga.[13]

From the time of Legaspi to the end of Spanish rule there were

occasional attacks upon the Chinese residing in the archipelago, who

were never allowed to live in the Islands without exciting protest and

dislike, based partly upon religious, partly upon commercial grounds.

During the last one hundred years of Spanish supremacy, the greatest

danger to their power was the presence of the Chinese. Efforts to

exclude them were never effective or long enduring, and yet it was felt

that the men who came as labourers and traders were the advance guard of

an innumerable host. In business the Malay has never been the equal of

the shrewd Chinaman, and although the latter might be converted and take

a Spanish name, yet it was always gravely suspected that a search would

find joss sticks smoldering in front of the tutelary deity of commerce

hidden behind the image of the Virgin in his chapel.

So the Chinaman, like the Jew in medieval Europe, carried on his trade

in constant danger of robbery and murder. This antipathy did not,

however, extend to Filipina women, many of whom married the foreigners.

Among the leaders in the Filipino insurrection against the United

States, Aguinaldo, two of his cabinet, nine of his generals, and many of

his more important financial agents were of Chinese descent.

In 1762 the English swooped down upon Manila, but they held the capital

only two years, for, by the Treaty of Paris, the lands they had taken

were returned to Spain. It is said the English conquest, brief as it

was, brought good results to the Islands.

Before going on to the struggle against the friars, I wish to quote

from my father's letters describing his experiences in the Philippines

twenty years before American occupation.

"At Sea, December 2, 1878.

"Yesterday I left Manila, where I have been since the 6th of last

month.... Our first days there were spent in firing salutes and

exchanging visits, and going through all the forms which are customary

when a government vessel comes into a foreign port. Admiral Patterson

sent me here to settle a stabbing affray on board the American barque

_Masonic_, and that took up my attention at first. In the evenings I

went to the opera, and visited the sights of the city. On account of

earthquakes, all the buildings are but one story high. The customs,

fashions, etc., are Spanish. Every one was polite and I found it very

pleasant; but, as you might expect, after a little while I grew

restless. I heard that there was some beautiful scenery in the interior,

and I resolved to go on an investigating trip and see it. Our

vice-consul, Mr. Yongs, and another gentleman went with me.

"From Manila we went in a boat up a short river, which had its rise in a

large lake, about twenty-five miles long, that we crossed in a steamer.

I think I never saw such quantities of two things as were on that

lake--namely, ducks and mosquitoes.

"From the lake we continued our journey in two-horse vehicles, like the

_volantes_ of Havana, and in these we went from village to village, on

our way to the mountains. We were very well treated. The Spanish

authorities at Manila provided us with whatever we required. The

villages were clusters of thatched huts around a church, and the

religion seemed to be a curious mixture of Roman Catholic Christianity

and pagan superstition, as I concluded from the style of the pictures

with which the churches were adorned. These were chiefly representations

of hell and its torments. Devils, with the traditional tails and horns,

and armed with pitchforks, were turning over sinners in lakes of burning

brimstone....

"We found the natives very musical; they sang and played on a variety of

instruments, and they were rather handsome. The women had, without

exception, the longest and most luxuriant hair I ever saw in all my

travels. You know it is a rare thing among us for a woman to have hair

that sweeps the ground, but here the exception is the other way; nearly

every woman I saw had hair between five and six feet in length.

"I was told that back among the mountains there existed tribes whom the

Spaniards have never been able to conquer, and no one dares to venture

among them, not even the priests. Our road was constantly ascending, and

as we advanced toward the interior the scenery became beautiful. Peaks

of mountains rose all about us; plains and valleys stretched out,

covered with tropical vegetation; picturesque villages, clustering

around their churches, were visible here and there; and in the distance

were glimpses of the sea, sparkling and bright in the sun.

"I was told of a wonderful ravine among the mountains that was worth

seeing and I decided to visit it, especially as it was a favourable

time; the river, by which it had to be approached, was then high, and

its fifteen cascades, which usually had to be climbed past, dragging the

canoe, were reduced to four. I took three natives with me, and we

ascended successfully. I have called it a ravine, but a gorge would be a

better term, for it is worn directly through the mountain by a large

river, and the rock rises up on each side, as sheer and straight as if

cut by machinery.

"After I had ascended a certain distance, I stopped for a time to

examine all the wild magnificence about me. The rocky wall on each side

was so high that when I looked up I could see the stars shining in that

bright noonday, as if it were night. Huge birds came flapping up the

gorge far above my head; and yet they were far below the top of the

mountain of rock. I do not know how many feet it rose, but I never saw

any precipice where the impression of height was so effectually

given--it seemed immense.

"Beneath us was the deep, broad stream, looking very dark in the

twilight that such a shadow made, and I could not help feeling

awestruck. But the opening of the gorge framed as smiling and cheerful a

landscape as could possibly be devised, to contrast with the inner

gloom. It was a wide, varied and splendid view of the country beyond,

sloping to the distant sea, and all of it as aglow with light and colour

as sea and land could be, beneath a tropic sun.

"Descending the river on our way out, I had a characteristic adventure,

which will make me satisfied for a time. We had passed two of the rapids

in safety, but as we approached the third, the canoe struck on a rock or

something in the current, bow on, and swinging round, half filled with

water. The natives in the end of the canoe nearest the rock sprang out

and clung to the vines which hung over its sides, but the other man and

I went over the fall in the half-swamped canoe, and were wholly at the

mercy of the stream, with an unusually good prospect of getting a good

deal more of it.

"The fall once passed through, the current drove us toward the shore, if

that is what you would call a precipice of rock, running straight down

far below the surface of the water. I succeeded in grasping the vines

and pulling the canoe after me by my feet. The water was quite close by

the rock, and the other two men, crawling down to us, hung on with me,

and bailed out the boat till it was safely afloat, and then we went down

the rest of the way without accident."

Before the middle of the last century, life in the Philippines must have

been, for Spaniards and natives alike, one long period of siesta. The

sound of the wars and the passing of governments and kings in Europe

must have seemed to these loiterers in a summer garden like the drone of

distant bees. After that period conditions changed rapidly. In 1852, the

Jesuits returned to the Philippines; in 1868, the reactionary Queen

Isabella II fled from Spain, because of the rise of republicanism; in

1869, the Suez Canal was opened. All these events had their influence,

but the return of the Jesuits was of dominating importance.

Throughout the nineteenth century the sole idea of the Tagals was to get

rid of the friars, and for several reasons, which I will explain as

briefly as possible. The Roman Catholic clergy are divided into regular

and secular. Members of the secular clergy are subordinate to the

bishops and archbishops, through whom the decrees of the Holy See are

promulgated. The regular clergy, monks and friars, are subordinate to

provincials elected for comparatively short terms of office by members

of their own order. The Jesuits form a group by themselves but belong

rather to the regular than the secular.

Over three hundred years after the conversion of the Filipinos, the

Spanish monks and friars considered it still unsafe to admit natives

into the hierarchy of the Catholic Church. _The secular clergy were

mostly natives, the regular clergy were Spaniards._ Naturally this

condition of affairs in time produced friction.

To understand the case in regard to the Jesuits, it is necessary to go

back nearly a century. In 1767, the King of Spain issued a decree

expelling the Jesuits from his possessions. Their property was

confiscated, their schools were closed, and they were treated as enemies

of the state. They had been among the earliest missionaries in the

Philippines, and were probably the wealthiest and most influential of

all the clergy there. Their departure left no priests for the richest

parishes in the provinces of Cavite and Manila, which had been their

sphere of influence. The question at once arose as to who would succeed

them, and as it happened, the Archbishop of Manila who had to answer it

was a member of the secular clergy, a Spanish priest to be sure, but of

liberal tendencies. Consequently, he filled the parishes with native

priests, who continued to occupy them until the return of the Jesuits.

Now the parish priest was the most influential man in the community. As

native priests used this influence to build up the prestige of the

seculars, the ecclesiastical feuds which arose became embittered by

racial antagonism.

When a royal order was received permitting the return of the Jesuits it

became at once necessary to find places for them in the ecclesiastical

government. Spain decided that the parishes of Cavite and Manila should

be henceforth filled by members of the order of Recollets, who were to

transfer their missions in Mindanao to the Jesuits. The Archbishop

protested against this increase in the power of the regular clergy, and

the Governor General assembled his council to act upon the protest. All

the members of the council who were born in Spain voted against the

Archbishop. All those born in the Philippines voted for him. The

regulars gained another victory over the seculars; the native was

publicly informed that he was not fit to administer the parishes of his

own people, and he saw himself definitely assigned to the position of

lay brother or of curate. Whatever threads of attachment there had been

between the opposing factions broke on the day of that decision, and

every native priest from that moment became a center of disaffection and

of the propaganda of hatred of the friars. This was perhaps the real

beginning of the movement which continued, now secretly, now openly,

until it broke out in actual revolt in 1872. The Spaniards put down this

uprising of the Tagalogs with such cruelty that they feared a later

retaliation, and sought help from the friars. This the friars gave them,

in return for added wealth and power, which was granted, of course, at

the expense of the vanquished natives.

Worcester writes in one of his earlier books, "During the years 1890-93,

while traveling in the archipelago, I everywhere heard the mutterings

that go before a storm. It was the old story: compulsory military

service; taxes too heavy to be borne, and imprisonment or deportation

with confiscation of property for those who could not pay them; no

justice except for those who could afford to buy it; cruel extortion by

the friars in the more secluded districts; wives and daughters ruined;

the marriage ceremony too costly a luxury for the poor; the dead refused

burial without payment of a substantial sum in advance; no opportunity

for education; little encouragement for industry and economy, since to

acquire wealth meant to become a target for officials and friars alike;

these and a hundred other wrongs had goaded the natives and half-castes

until they were stung to desperation."

The dissensions in the Philippines which ended in the rebellion of

1896-7 began with disagreements among the Spaniards themselves. A

progressive party arose before which the clerical or conservative party

slowly but steadily lost ground, and the legislation of modern Spain was

by degrees introduced into the Islands. The country was not able to

endure the taxation which would have been necessary to raise the

revenues to carry out this legislation. Hence laws which were passed

against the advice of the Spanish clergy in the Philippines were left

largely in their hands for execution, not because they were loved or

trusted, but because they were the only Spanish functionaries who knew

the language and the people and whose residence in the Islands was a

permanent one. If the friars had used their power wisely and

unselfishly, there would have been no trouble, but they used it too

often simply to keep the people down and extort money, for which they

gave little return.

By degrees the mestizos took sides. The Chinese mestizos soon grew

restive under this priestly government, and aided the progressive

Spanish party in Manila. As time passed they had it borne in upon them

that revolution might pay.

The insurrection of 1896-7 was planned and carried out under the

auspices of a society local to the Philippines, called the "Katipunan,"

the full title of which may be translated as "Supreme Select Association

of the Sons of the People." According to Spanish writers on the subject,

it was the outgrowth of a series of associations of Freemasons formed

with the expressed purpose of securing reforms in the government of the

Philippines, but whose unexpressed and ultimate object was to obtain

the independence of the archipelago. As if to accomplish this purpose,

a systematic attack was made on the monastic orders in the Philippines,

to undermine their prestige and to destroy their influence upon the

great mass of the population. The honorary president of the Katipunan

was José Rizal, whose name was used, without his permission, to attract

the masses to the movement.

Rizal was born in 1861 not far from Manila. He came of intelligent

stock. After his early training at the Jesuit school in Manila and the

Dominican university, Rizal went to Spain, where he took high honors at

the University of Madrid in medicine and philosophy. Post-graduate work

in France and Germany followed.

He was an ardent patriot, and in order to awaken his countrymen to the

need of reform, although he was a Roman Catholic, he published while in

Germany his book called "Noli Me Tangere,"--Touch Me Not--which dealt

with the immoral life of the friars. An English translation has been

issued with the title, "The Social Cancer." The circulation of the book

in the Islands was forbidden, but it was read by most of the educated

Filipinos. In reading it, one is again and again struck by the author's

clear comprehension of the needs and the difficulties of the Filipinos,

and the calm, unprejudiced way in which their problems are discussed.

[Illustration: JOSE RIZAL.]

In 1891, Rizal began the practice of medicine in Hongkong. Meanwhile,

the Spanish authorities, in their desire to get him into their power,

worked upon his feelings by persecuting his mother. The trick was

successful, and he returned to Manila, where he was soon arrested, and

banished to the island of Mindanao.

The most powerful leader of the insurrection was Andres Bonifacio, a

passionate and courageous man of little education. He sent an agent to

Dr. Rizal to aid him in escaping from his place of exile and to request

him to lead the Katipunan in open revolt. Rizal refused, believing that

the Filipinos were not yet ready for independence. Bonifacio resolved to

proceed without him.

Bonifacio assured his audience that when he gave the signal the native

troops would join them. It was of great importance to the success of his

plan that the army, as in 1872, was engaged in operations against the

Moros. There were available in Manila only some three hundred Spanish

artillery, detachments amounting to four hundred men, including seamen,

and two thousand native soldiers. The plot was discovered, but Bonifacio

escaped from Manila, and sent out orders for an uprising in that part

of Luzon which had been organized by the Katipunan. Manila was attacked,

but the rebels were repulsed. Martial law was proclaimed in eight

provinces of Luzon, followed by wholesale executions. Many of those

arrested on suspicion "were confined in Fort Santiago, one batch being

crowded into a dungeon for which the only ventilation was a grated

opening at the top, and one night the sergeant of the guard carelessly

spread his sleeping-mat over this, so the next morning some fifty-five

asphyxiated corpses were hauled away."

Just before the outbreak, Rizal received permission to join the army in

Cuba as surgeon, but on the way there was arrested and brought back to

Manila. His fate was now sealed. The trial by court-martial was a farce.

On a December day in 1896 he was led to execution.

Rizal was undoubtedly the noblest and most unselfish of the Filipino

leaders, and his execution was not only a crime but a blunder on the

part of the Spanish authorities. From his prison he issued an address to

the Filipinos remarkable for its moderation and its condemnation of the

"savage rebellion," stating that the education of the people must

precede any truly beneficial reforms, and urging them to go back to

their homes. The Spanish officials deemed this not sufficiently

"patriotic" to be published, and sentenced its author to the death of a

traitor by shooting in the back. To-day he is the national hero of the

Filipinos.

[Illustration: FORT SANTIAGO.]

The seacoast towns were under the leadership of Emilio Aguinaldo, a

young radical, who was already a recognized leader among the local

disaffected. The Spaniards had not expected this outbreak in Cavite.

Aguinaldo had personally assured the governor of the province of his

devotion to Spain, but when fighting began isolated Spanish officers

were killed and their families carried into captivity. The difficulties,

of the Spaniards were increased by the fact that the defense of Manila

and Cavite until reinforcements arrived, would be largely in the hands

of native troops, among whom the Katipunan was known to have been at

work. But the troops of the old native regiments--the men who for years

had followed Spanish officers--were on the whole faithful, and it was

largely due to them that Manila and Cavite were held.

The leaders in the insurrection were of that class who called themselves

_ilustrados_, enlightened, a class whose blood is, in almost every case,

partly Spanish or partly Chinese. The supremacy of the friars was

passing, and men of this class intended to be the heirs to their

domain. The idea of forming a republic and even of adopting the titles

appropriate to a republic to designate the functionaries of a Malay

despotism was an afterthought.

Reinforcements arrived from Spain, and by June 10, 1897, the

insurrection was broken, and Aguinaldo with his remaining adherents had

taken refuge at Biacnabato, some sixty miles from Manila. He was now

without a rival, for Bonifacio had dared to attempt his life, had been

brought before a court-martial, had been condemned to death and had

disappeared.

Aguinaldo, who now called himself not only Generalissimo of the Army of

Liberation but President of the Revolutionary Government, had adopted

guerilla warfare, and the Spanish commands were forced to follow an

enemy who was never dangerous to large bodies, but who always was to

small ones--an enemy who, wearing no uniform, upon the approach of a

large body became peaceful labourers in the fields along the road, but

were ready to pick up their rifles or bolos and use them against a small

party or a straggler. Still, whatever they had fought for at first, the

insurgent leaders were now fighting for their own safety.

The governor general sought in various ways to gain the support of the

country. He called for Filipino volunteers, and, curiously enough, they

responded with enthusiasm. The rapidity with which they were recruited

was probably largely due to the activity of the friars. This added to

the hatred of them felt by the class of natives represented by

Aguinaldo.

Between June and December, 1897, the time was spent in an obscure

bargaining, the outcome of which was the so-called Treaty of Biacnabato,

which Primo de Rivera--the governor general--has stated was merely a

promise to pay a money bribe to the insurgents if they would cease a

combat in which they had lost hope of success but which they could still

prolong to the detriment of the resources and the prestige of Spain.

The result of the bargainings was that Spain agreed to pay eight hundred

thousand Mexican dollars for the surrender of Aguinaldo and his

principal leaders and the arms and ammunition in their possession. An

amnesty was proclaimed. Aguinaldo and his leaders were sent to Hongkong

under escort, where they declared themselves loyal Spanish subjects.

Primo de Rivera returned to Spain. As he received in return for the

money only about two hundred rifles and a little ammunition, it is not

probable that he made any of the promises of changes in the government

of the archipelago which the Filipinos have insistently stated since

then were the real objects of the agreement.

Whatever may have been the true motives which actuated the Spanish

governor general in adopting this method of terminating a successful

campaign, he succeeded in purchasing only an armistice and not a peace.

On January 23, 1898, a Te Deum was sung in the cathedral of Manila to

mark the reëstablishment of peace in the archipelago.

The insurgent leaders had been bought off and their followers had

surrendered their arms.

As Spanish dominion in the Philippines was now about to close, let us

stop a moment to inquire what it had brought to the Islands. It may have

been hard and utterly unprogressive, but it turned the tribes of Luzon

and the Visayas from tribal feuds and slave-raiding expeditions to

agriculture.

To accomplish these results required untiring energy and a high

enthusiasm among the missionaries. They had lived among savages,

speaking their tongue, until they had almost forgotten their own. Spain

had ceased to be everything to them; their order was their country.

Spanish officials came and went, but the ministers of the Church

remained, and as they grew to be the interpreters of the wants of the

people, in many cases their protectors against spoliation, power fell

into their hands. It is rather interesting to learn that in 1619, in the

reign of Philip III, it was proposed to abandon the Philippines on

account of their useless expense to Spain, but a delegation of friars

from the Islands implored him not to abandon the twenty thousand

Christians they had converted, and the order was countermanded.

Spanish dominion left the people Christians, whereas, if the Islands had

not been occupied by Spain, their people would in all probability to-day

be Mohammedan. The point of view of the Spanish friars may not be ours,

but when their efforts are judged by the good rather than the evil

results, it can still be said that Spain gave Christianity and a long

term of peace to the Philippine archipelago. The Filipinos are the only

Christian Asiatics.

But Philippine history was to take an unexpected turn. The

Spanish-American war broke out, and a new factor appeared upon the scene

in the shape of Commodore Dewey and his fleet. We all know the story of

the battle of Manila Bay, but we may just recall it briefly.

It was the night of April 30, 1898, that the American Asiatic squadron,

which had received its orders at Hongkong, arrived off the Philippines.

They took a look first into Subig Bay, but seeing no enemy, they made

their way into Manila Bay by the Boca Grande entrance. There were

rumours of mines in the channel and big guns in the forts, but Dewey

took the chance, and the fleet steamed in at night. The ships formed two

columns, the fighting ships all in one line, and the auxiliary vessels

about twelve hundred yards behind. They moved at the rate of their

slowest vessel.

Black thunder clouds at times obscured even the crescent moon that

partially lighted their course, but occasional lightning flashes gave

the bold Americans a glimpse of frowning Corregidor and the sentinel

rock of El Fraile. The ships were dark except for one white light at the

stern of each as a guide to the vessel next in line. As the _Olympia_

turned toward El Fraile her light was seen by a Spanish sentry. A sheet

of flame from the smokestack of the _McCulloch_, a revenue cutter

attached to the fleet, also betrayed its presence to the enemy at the

same moment. El Fraile and a battery on the south shore of the bay at

once opened fire, which was returned by the ships to such good purpose

that the battery was silenced in three minutes. Slowly, steadily,

Dewey's ships steamed on, and at dawn discovered the gray Spanish

vessels lying in front of the naval arsenal at Cavite, over on the

distant shore to the right. Admiral Montojo's flagship, the _Reina

Cristina_, and the _Castilla_, and a number of smaller vessels, formed a

curved line of battle, which was protected in a measure by the shore

batteries. The Spaniards had one more ship than the Americans, but the

latter had bigger guns.

Silently the American squadron advanced across the bay, with the Stars

and Stripes flying from every ship. At quarter past five on the morning

of May 1st, the Spanish ships fired their first shots. When less than

six thousand yards from their line, Dewey gave the famous order to

Captain Gridley, in command of the _Olympia_: "You may fire when you're

ready, Gridley."

Two hours later, the _Reina Cristina_ had been burned, the _Castilla_

was on fire, and all but one of the other Spanish vessels were abandoned

and sunk. Dewey gave his men time for breakfast and a little rest, then

shelled and silenced the batteries at Cavite. Soon after noon the

Spaniards surrendered, having lost 381 men and ten war vessels. Seven

Americans were slightly wounded, but none were killed. So ended this

famous battle.

The Spell of the Hawaiian Islands and the Philippines · 第 2 / 10 章