homeless, they wandered from town to town to beg, especially on
market days. One blind woman, who lived on the road from Iloilo to
Jaro, had collected seventy-five "mex," only to have it stolen by
her sister. Complaint was made to the military commander, but it was
found that the money had been spent and that there was no redress to
be had. She must continue to beg while her sister lived hard by in
the new "shack" which she had built with the stolen "denaro" (money).
About three miles from Jaro was quite a leper colony, shunned,
of course, by the natives. During confession, the lepers kneeled
several rods away from the priests. I saw one poor woman whose feet
were entirely gone lashed to a board so she could drag herself along
by the aid of her hands, which had not yet begun to decay.
There were no visible means of caring for the sick and afflicted; the
insane were kept in stocks or chained to trees, and the U. S. hospitals
were so overtaxed by the demands made upon them by our own soldiers
that little space or attention could be spared to the natives. Charity
begins at home.
God bless the dear women who nursed our sick soldiers; it was my
pleasure to know quite intimately several of these girls who have
made many a poor boy more comfortable. I am proud, too, of our
U. S. Army; of course not all of the men were of the Sunday School
order, but under such great discomforts, in such deadly perils, and
among such treacherous people, nothing more can be expected of mortal
men than they rendered. Many poor boys trusted these natives to their
sorrow. They accepted hospitality and their death was planned right
before their eyes, they, of course, not understanding the language
sufficiently to comprehend what was intended. They paid the penalty
of their trust with their lives.
On Decoration Day we were able to make beautiful wreaths and
crosses. Our soldiers marched to the cemeteries and placed the
flowers on the graves of the brave boys who had given their lives in
defence of the flag. I had the pleasure of representing the mothers,
whose spiritual presence was, I felt sure, with those far-away loved
ones. An officer has written me that Memorial Day was again observed
this year, and I am sure it was done fittingly.
A Protestant mission was established at Jaro, in a bamboo chapel,
pure bamboo throughout, roof, walls, windows, seats, floor. The seats,
however, were seldom used, for the natives prefer to squat on the
floor. The congregation consisted of men, women, and children, many
of whom came on foot from a distance of twenty or more miles, the
older people scantily clad, and the children entirely naked; a more
attentive audience would be hard to find, as all were eager to get the
"cheap religion." None of the inhabitants of Jaro attend, as yet;
they fear to do so, since they are under the strict surveillance
of the padre, and are in the shadow of the seminary for priests,
the educational center of the island of Panay.
The Protestant minister is a graduate of this institution and is
subject to all imaginable abuses and insults. Under his teachings,
a great many have been baptized, who seemed devoutly in earnest; it
is inspiring to hear them sing with great zeal the familiar hymns,
"Rock of Ages," "Safe in the Arms of Jesus," etc. One incident
will suffice to illustrate the intense and determined opposition to
Protestantism. One of the native teachers was warned not to return
to his home, but, in defiance of all threats, he did so, and was
murdered before the eyes of his family. I shall expect to hear that
many other missionaries have been disposed of in a similar manner,
after the withdrawal of the American troops.
Many ask my opinion as to the value of these possessions; to me they
seem rich beyond all estimate. A friend whom I met there, a man who
has seen practically the whole world, said that, for climate and
possibilities, he knew of no country to compare with the Philippines.
The young generation is greedy for knowledge and anxious to progress,
though the older people do not take kindly to innovations, but cling
to their old superstitions and cruelties. God grant the better day
may come soon.
There was quite an ambition among the natives to be musical;
they picked up quickly, "by ear," some of the catchy things our
band played. When I heard them playing "A Hot Time in the Old Town
To-night," on their way to the cemetery, I could not restrain my
laughter, and if the deceased were of the order of Katapunan the
prophecy was fulfilled. Officers informed me that this society was
probably the worst one ever organized, more deadly than anarchists
ever were. It was originated by the Masons, but the priests acquired
control of it and made it a menace to law and order. I should not
have escaped with my life had it not been for one of the best friends
I have ever known, a "mestizo," part Spanish and part Filipino. She
undoubtedly saved my life by declaring that before anything was done
to me she and her husband must be sacrificed. "Greater love hath no
man than this." They were influential people throughout the islands,
and nothing occurred.
ISLANDS CEBU AND ROMBLOM.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.
The various islands seemed to have their own peculiarities. Cebu is
famous for vast quantities of Manila hemp; also for shell spoons;
these are beautiful, of various sizes, and colors, according to the
shell they are cut from. They are especially appropriate in serving
fish. The abaka-cloth of this island is the finest made, and its pearl
fisheries are valuable. In 1901 a lively insurrection was going on in
Cebu. The banks of the bay were lined with refugees who had come from
the inland to be protected from their enemies. There were hundreds
of them, but not a single cooking utensil amongst them. Some would
go up to the market place and buy a penny's worth of rice skillfully
put up in a woven piece of bamboo. And lucky for them if they had
the penny. The rest spent their time fishing.
The cathedral of Cebu, built of stone, is especially fine. It has for
its Patron Saint, a babe, Santa Niña. The story is that at one time
there were a great many babies stricken with a malady; the parents
vowed if the Holy Mother would spare their children they would build
this cathedral.
One of the largest prisons is at Cebu. We were shown many of the
dungeons; there were then confined within those walls many very
bad Insurrectos.
As we were eager to visit one of the large estates, we were given a
heavy guard and went inland about two miles from the port; it was
certainly a fine plantation, much better kept than any I had ever
seen before. We were apparently cordially received, and were assured
if we would only stay we could partake of some of the family pig,
that was even then wandering around in the best room in the house.
The floor of the large reception room was polished as perfectly as a
piano top; its boards were at least eighteen inches wide and sixteen to
twenty feet long. I asked several persons the name of this beautiful
place, but could not find out. On the sideboard were quantities of
fine china and silver that had been received only a few days before
from Spain, there was a large grand piano, and there were eight or
ten chairs in the center of the room forming a hollow square. Here
we were seated and were offered refreshments of wine, cigars and
"dulce." While this place seemed isolated it was not more than ten
minutes before we had a gathering of several hundred natives, indeed
our visit was shortened by the fear that we might be outnumbered and
captured, and so we hastened back to quarters.
While all the islands are tropical in appearance, Cebu is pre-eminently
luxuriant. We were sorry not to stay longer and learn more of its
people and its industries.
Romblom is considered by many the most picturesque of the islands. The
entrance is certainly beautiful; small ships can come up to the
dock. The town itself is on the banks of a wonderful stream of water
that has been brought down from the hills above. There is a finely
constructed aqueduct that must have cost the Spaniards a great deal
of money, even with cheap labor. It is certainly a very delightfully
situated little town. This place is famous for its mats; they are woven
of every conceivable color and texture, and are of all sizes, from
those for a child's bed to those for the side of a house. The edges of
some mats are woven to look like lace, and some like embroidery. They
range in price from fifty cents to fifty dollars. Every one who visits
Romblom is sure to bring away a mat.
On every island much corn is raised, perhaps for export; certainly
the staple is rice. Quite a number of young men who were officers in
our volunteer regiments, have located on the island of Guimeras, and
I have no doubt that, with their New England thrift, they will be able
to secure magnificent crops. The soil is amazingly rich; under skilled
care it will produce a hundred fold. Many of the islands are so near
to one another that it is an easy matter to pass from island to island.
LITERATURE.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.
In no house of any town, on any island, nor in the very best houses
of the so-called very best families, did I ever see any books,
newspapers, magazines, periodicals of any kind whatever. One woman
triumphantly took out of a box a book, nicely folded up in wax paper,
a history of the United States, printed in 1840. In a lower room of a
large house, once a convent, but now occupied by two or three priests,
there were perhaps four or five hundred books written in Spanish and
Latin on church matters. One reason for the dearth of books is the
difficulty of protecting them from the ravages of the ants. We found
to our horror that our books were devoured by them. And then the times
were troublous and things were out of joint. In the large seminary at
Molo, where hundreds of girls are taught every year, I did not see a
single book of any kind or any printed matter, except a few pamphlets
concerning the Roman church. The girls work on embroideries, and surely
for fineness they surpass all others. They do the most cobweb-like
drawn work, and on this are wrought roses, lilies, and butterflies
with outspread wings that look as if they had just lighted down to sip
the nectar from the blossoms; these very fine embroideries are done
on the piña cloth. It is no wonder that the people would get even the
advertisements on our canned goods and ask any American whom they met
what the letters were and what the words meant. Our empty cans with
tomato, pear, peach labels were to them precious things. Whereever
our soldiers were, the adults and the children crowded around them
and impromptu classes were formed to spell out all the American words
they could find; even the newspaper wrappers and the letter envelopes,
that were thrown away, were carefully picked up so as to glean the
meaning of these "Americano" words. There was near our quarters a very
large building that was used for the education of boys; one can form
some idea of the size of this building when two or three regiments
were encamped there with all their equipments.
There may have been books here, once, but nothing was left when our
troops occupied it except a few pictures on the walls, a few tables
and desks, a few chairs and sleeping mats.
There was a little story in connection with the bell tower on one
side of the plaza in Jaro; this tower was about eighty feet high,
had a roof and niches for seven or eight good sounding bells. From
the top of this tower one could see many miles in every direction;
when the Philippine army fled from the town they immediately thought
our soldiers might ascend the tower and watch their course, so
they burned the staircases. Alas for the little children who had
taken refuge in the tower! As the flames swept up the stairways,
they fled before them; two of them actually clung to the clapper of
one great bell, and there they hung until its frame was burned away
and the poor little things fell with the falling bell. Their remains
were found later by our soldiers, the small hands still faithful
to their hold. The bells were in time replaced and doubtless still
chime out the hours of the day. It is the duty of one man to attend
to the bells; the greater the festival day the oftener and longer
they ring. When they rang a special peal for some special service,
I tried to attend. One day there was an unusual amount of commotion
and clanging, so I determined to go over to the service. Hundreds of
natives had gathered together. To my surprise, six natives came in
bearing on their shoulders a bamboo pole; from this pole a hammock
was suspended, in which some one was reclining; but over the entire
person, hammock, and pole, was thrown a thick bamboo net, entirely
concealing all within; it was taken up to the chancel and whoever
was in that hammock was given the sacrament. He was, no doubt, some
eminent civilian or officer, for the vast congregation rose to their
feet when the procession came in and when it passed out. I asked
two or three of the Filipino women, whom I knew well, who it was,
but they professed not to know. They always treated me with respect
when I attended any of their services and placed a chair for me. I
noticed how few carried books to church. I do not believe I ever saw
a dozen books in the hands of worshipers in any of the cathedrals,
and I visited a great many, five on Palm Sunday, 1900. I know from
the children themselves, and from their teachers, that there are
complaints about the size of the books and about the number which
they have to get their lessons from in the new schools.
There are three American newspapers in Manila, and one American
library. The grand success of the library more than repays all the cost
and trouble of establishing it. One must experience it to know the
joy of getting letters, magazines, papers, and books that come once
or twice a month, only. It really seemed when the precious mail bags
were opened that their treasures were too sacred to be even handled. We
were so hungry and thirsty for news from home, for reading matter in
this bookless country, where even a primer would have been a prize.
I alternated between passive submission to island laziness,
shiftlessness, slovenliness, dirt, and active assertion of Ohio
vim. Sick of vermin and slime, I would take pail, scrubbing brush
and lye, and fall to; sick of it all, I would get a Summit county
breakfast, old fashioned pan cakes for old times' sake; sick of the
native laundress who cleansed nothing, I would give an Akron rub myself
to my own clothes and have something fit to wear. These attacks of
energy depended somewhat on the temperature, somewhat on exhausted
patience, somewhat on homesickness, but most on dread of revolt and
attack; or of sickening news--not of battle, but of assassination and
mutilation. Whether I worked or rested, I was careful to sit or stand
close to a wall--to guard against a stab in the back. I smile now,
not gaily, at the picture of myself over a washtub, a small dagger
in my belt, a revolver on a stool within easy reach of my steady,
right hand, rubbing briskly while the tears of homesickness rolled
down in uncontrollable floods, but singing, nevertheless, with might
and main:--
"Am I a soldier of the Cross,
A follower of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause,
Or blush to speak His name?
"Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas?"
Singing as triumphantly as possible to the last verse and word of
that ringing hymn. My door and windows were set thick with wondering
faces and staring eyes, a Señora washing. These Americans were past
understanding! And that revolver--they shivered as they looked at it,
and not one doubted that it would be vigorously used if needed. And I
looked at them, saying to myself, as I often did, "You poor miserable
creatures, utterly neglected, utterly ignorant and degraded."
No wonder that the diseased, the deformed, the blind, the one-toed, the
twelve-toed, and monstrous parts and organs are the rule rather than
the exception. These things are true of nine-tenths of this people.
THE ADVERTISER.
ILOILO 25th. NOVEMBER 1899.
EXTRA.
Reuter's Telegrams.
THE TRANSVAAL WAR.
LONDON 25th. Novr.--The British losses at Belmont are stated at 48
killed, 146 wounded, and 21 missing. The losses include four Officers
killed and 21 wounded and are chiefly Guardsmen.
50 Boers were taken prisoner, including the German commandant and
six Field Cornets.
The British Infantry are said to have behaved splendidly and were
admirably supported by the Artillery and the Naval Brigade, carrying
three Ridges successively. The Victory is a most complete one. It is
stated that the enemy fought with the greatest courage and skill.
This Extra was Issued Daily--Eighty-four Mexican Dollars per Year.
THE GORDON SCOUTS.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.
The Gordon Scouts were a detachment made up of volunteers from the
Eighteenth U. S. Infantry. They were under direct command of Captain
W. A. Gordon and Lieutenant A. L. Conger. The captain lost health and
was sent home; thus the troop was, for about a year, under the command
of Lieutenant Conger. It would not be proper for me to tell of the
wonderful expeditions and the heroic deeds of the Gordon Scouts. No
one was more generous in praise of them than General Del Gardo, now
governor of the Island of Panay. He told me often of his great esteem
for my son and of the generous way in which he treated his prisoners
and captives. Surely men were never kinder to a woman than these
scouts were to me; they most affectionately called me Mother Conger
and treated me always with the greatest respect and kindness. I hope
some day the history of this brave band of men will be written, with
its more than romantic campaigns and wonderful exploits, marches,
dangers, and miraculous escapes. Few men were wounded or disabled,
notwithstanding all the tedious marches in most impenetrable swamps
and mountains, with no guide but the stars by night and the sun by
day, and no maps or trusted men to guide them. I recall the bravery
of one man who was shot through the abdomen, and when they stopped to
carry him away he said, "Leave me here; I cannot live, and you may
all be captured or killed." They tenderly placed him in a blanket,
carried him to a place of safety, and, when he died, they brought
him back to Jaro and buried him with military honors. He was the only
man killed in all the months of their arduous tasks.
If I have any courage I owe it to my grandmother. I will perhaps
be pardoned if I say that all my girlhood life was spent with my
Grandmother Bronson, a very small woman, weighing less than ninety
pounds, small featured, always quaintly dressed in the old-fashioned
Levantine silk with two breadths only in the skirt, a crossed silk
handkerchief with a small white one folded neatly across her breast,
a black silk apron, dainty cap made of sheer linen lawn with full
ruffles. She it was who entered into all my child life and who used to
tell me of her early pioneer days, and of her wonderful experiences
with the Indians. In the War of 1812, fearing for his little family,
my grandfather started her back to Connecticut on horse back with
her four little children, the youngest, my father, only six months
old. The two older children walked part of the way; whoever rode
had to carry the baby and the next smallest child rode on a pillion
that was tied to the saddle. In this way she accomplished the long
journey from Cleveland, Ohio, to Connecticut. When she used to tell
me of the wonderful things that happened on this tedious journey,
that took weeks and weeks to accomplish, I used to wonder if I should
ever take so long a trip. I take pleasure in presenting the dearly
loved grandmother of eighty-one and the little girl of ten.
While my dear little grandmother dreaded the Indians, I did the
treacherous Filipinos; while she dreaded the wolves, bears and wild
beasts, I did the stab of the ever ready bolo and stealthy natives,
and the prospect of fire; she endured the pangs of hunger, so did I;
and I now feel that I am worthy to be her descendant and to sit by
her side.
TRIALS OF GETTING HOME.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.
The first stages of my return home were from Iloilo to Manila,
and thence to Nagasaki, the chief port of Japan. Upon leaving
Iloilo for Manila, my son accompanied me as far as Manila; he heard
incidentally that he was to be made a staff officer; as I procured
quick transportation as far as Nagasaki, I told him to return to
his duties and I would get along some way. Upon reaching Nagasaki,
the difficulties began. I went immediately to the various offices of
steamship lines and found there was no passage of any grade to be
had. Many were fleeing from the various ports to get away from the
plague and all steamers were crowded because of the reduced rates
to the Pan-American Fair. Thinking I might have a better chance from
Yokohama, I took passage up there on the North German Lloyd line. I
had a splendid state-room, fine service, the best of everything. I
told the purser I should like to engage that same state-room back to
Liverpool; he replied he could not take me, that I would not live to
get there. I assured him that I was a good sailor, that I was very
much emaciated with my long stay in the Philippines, that I would soon
recover with his good food and the sea air; but he refused to take
me. When I reached Yokohama, I immediately began to see if I could not
secure sailing from there; day after day went by, it was the old story,
everything taken. When the Gaelic was returning I told the captain that
I would be willing to take even third cabin at first class rates, but
even thus there were no accommodations. Within an hour of the ship's
sailing, word was brought to me that two women had given up their
cabin and that I might have it; it was two miles out to the ship,
with no sampan--small boat--of any kind to get my baggage out, so I
tearfully saw this ship sail away. I then decided to return to Nagasaki
to try again from that port. The voyage back was by the Empress line of
steamers flying between Vancouver and Yokohama. Upon reaching Nagasaki
again I appealed to the quarter-master to secure transportation; he
said I could not get anything at all. Officers whom I had met in the
Philippines proposed to take me and my baggage on board without the
necessary red tape, in fact to make me a stow-away, but I refused. I
cabled my son in New York to see if I could get a favorable order
from Washington. I cabled Governor Taft, but he was powerless in the
great pressure of our returning troops. In the meantime, I was daily
growing weaker from the excitement and worry of being unable to do
anything at all. The housekeeper of the very well-kept Nagasaki hotel
was especially kind. She gave me very good attention and even the
Chinese boy who took care of my room and brought my meals realized
the desperate condition I was in. One day, with the deepest kind of
solicitude on his otherwise stolid but child-like and bland face,
he said:--
"Mrs., you no got husband?"
"No."
"You no got all same boys."
"Yes, I have three nice boys."
"Why no then you three boys not come and help poor sick mother go
home to die?"