TAGAL CRIME AND SPANISH JUSTICE.
The murder of a Spaniard--Promptitude of the Courts--The case of
Juan de la Cruz--Twelve years in prison waiting trial--Piratical
outrage in Luzon--Culprits never tried; several die in prison.
The penal code of the Philippines, which came into force in 1884,
declares it impossible to consider as an aggravation of an offence the
circumstance of colour or race in the offender, for the criminal is
to be punished for his crime and not for the condition of inferiority
to which nature has condemned him.
It goes on to say that on the other hand his condition should not
be allowed to attenuate the sentence, for that would constitute an
odious privilege, an unbearable inequality.
It therefore proudly proclaims the equality of all races before the
law. These are noble words; we shall see how they work out in practice.
The case of Juan de la Cruz shows us that a criminal investigation
can drag on for twelve years without coming on for trial when the
victims are natives and of lowly station. I could cite cases where the
victims were British subjects, and the murderers were never punished,
and another case where a Frenchman was the victim. The murderer
in this case was to have been pardoned by the Governor-General,
but the French consul threatened to haul down his flag and leave
the islands unless the assassin was executed; and he was executed,
the consul attending to see the sentence carried out
The British Foreign Office does not encourage its agents to such
energetic acts. To obtain the good graces of the Foreign Office a
consul should be devoid of talent or originality. Mediocrity is the
condition sought for. It is never advisable for one of Her Britannic
Majesty's consuls to be active in protecting Her Britannic Majesty's
subjects. What he must aim at if he wishes for consideration and
promotion is to give the Foreign Office no trouble. The ideal consul
would be he who is only heard of once a quarter, when he certifies
that he is alive, and asks that his salary may be paid.
I will relate a murder that made an impression on me at the time,
where the victim was a Spaniard. In June of 1881, I was at Santa
Cruz in the Laguna Province for several days, making experiments
with some patent centrifugals, steaming and drying the fine Laguna
sugar. Quite close to the camarin, where the machines were at work,
lived an elderly Spaniard who was a government employe in some
subordinate position. I think he was the Subdelegado de Hacienda,
or sub-provincial treasurer. I had once or twice called upon the old
gentleman, whose appearance and manners were above his official rank,
and had been politely received by him. On completing my experiments,
I called to take leave of him, and was sorry to find him suffering
from fever, and very weak.
I returned to Manila, and next day was horrified to read in a newspaper
that he had been murdered in the night by his two servants. This
atrocious crime, committed on a helpless and infirm old man, with every
circumstance of premeditation and barbarity, and with the object of
robbery, roused the indignation of every European. The culprits were
soon apprehended, and such expedition was used by the Promotor Fiscal
and the court, that within a week from the perpetration of the murder
the two servants were garrotted on a scaffold erected near the scene
of their barbarous crime.
Such is the rapidity with which the Philippine courts could act when
a Spaniard was the victim and when public opinion was deeply stirred
by some shocking tragedy.
The case of Juan de la Cruz.
The following narrative of events, which occurred in 1886, will give
the reader a good idea of the furious passions that may lurk under
the inscrutable features of the Philippine Malay, and will also serve
to illustrate the procedure of the Spanish criminal courts when the
victims are natives and when nothing can be made out of the case. Four
of the five actors or victims in the tragedy were well known to me,
and I learned all the particulars at first hand and at the time,
from those who took steps to deliver over the culprit to justice.
The decked steam launch Laguimanoc belonged to Gustav Brown, a ship
carpenter, and was hired by the Varadero, or Slipway Company of
Canacao, near Cavite, to keep up communication with Manila, whilst
the slip was being constructed.
I was consulting engineer to the company, and Mr. J. L. Houston was
the resident engineer in charge of the work. Both of us made frequent
voyages in this launch between Canacao and Manila. The crew consisted
of a patron (coxswain) named Juan de la Cruz, an engine-driver,
a stoker, and a boy, all Tagals.
Juan de la Cruz was an elderly man with grey hair, and in figure thin
and wiry. He was a good man at his duty, one of the silent Indians
whom I have always found to be the best. A thorough sailor, he had
served under many a flag, and sailed o'er many a sea, both in tropic
and in northern climes.
The engine-driver and the stoker were brothers, strong and well-built
young fellows, and smart at their work. The boy was an active lad,
quite pleased to be employed on a steam-boat.
One day, the stoker, going through the blacksmith's shop, saw a piece
of square steel, which had been cut off a long bar, lying on the
floor, and it struck him that it would be better than a hammer for
breaking coal. So he annexed it without leave, and got one end drawn
out and rounded so that he could easily hold it. This made a very
efficient coal-breaker, the sharp edges divided the lumps with great
ease. It was about eighteen inches long, and one and three-quarter
inches square. The patron was married, and his wife lived in Manila,
but, sailor-like, he had provided himself with a sweetheart, at the
other end of his run, where he spent more time than in the Pasig,
and had become intimate with a damsel of San Roque, a village between
the Varadero and Cavite. Things went on apparently all right for some
time; the launch making almost daily trips between Canacao and Manila,
and the elderly patron alternating between the conjugal domicile and
the dwelling of his mistress. She was young, and, as native girls go,
a pretty woman. Come of a strange and unknown mixture of races, and
bred up amongst a community noted for its profligacy, she knew how
to make the best use of her charms and was well fitted to captivate
the weather-beaten seaman.
He, if not desirable in himself, held a well paid post, and was able
to place her above want.
Already fifty years old, he was as susceptible as a youth and far more
in earnest. Day by day, as he basked in her smiles, his infatuation
increased till he became violently enamoured of his charmer.
What could be more natural than that the crew of the launch should
become acquainted with the patron's mistress? Soon the engine-driver
and the stoker were her constant visitors. The damsel had a kind word
and a smile for both, and doubtless contrasted their vigorous youth
and shapely forms with the shrunken figure of her elderly protector,
and their lively conversation with his glum silence.
In the end, no doubt, the damsel refused them nothing.
Trouble was now brewing. The grim sailor was not the man to let
himself be wronged with impunity. All the elements of a tragedy were
present. Things no longer went smoothly on board the Laguimanoc, and
her voyages lost their regularity. Something was perpetually going
wrong with the engines, pieces or fittings disappeared unaccountably,
usually pieces of copper or brass. The engine-driver was blamed,
but he succeeded in averting his impending discharge. Could he
have foreseen the consequences of remaining, he would have promptly
discharged himself.
On board the launch mutual distrust prevailed. The engine-driver must
have known that it was the patron who had thrown overboard the fittings
in his absence, hoping to get him discharged, but he held his peace.
The silent figure at the tiller made no sign; no trace of emotion
could be seen on the Sphinx-like face, no reproaches passed his lips,
not the slightest manifestation of resentment. But underneath that
imperturbable calm there existed the steadfast determination to have
a full and bloody revenge on all who had offended him. The Laguimanoc
made a voyage to Manila one Saturday to take up the resident engineer
who often spent his Sundays there, the launch remaining in the
river. On Monday morning when he came down to the launch he found
that the safety valve was missing from its seat, and was delayed till
another could be procured.
No explanations of the loss of this piece could be got, and the
Laguimanoc proceeded with the resident engineer to Canacao and made
fast to the jetty.
A crisis was now reached. The abstraction of the safety-valve could
not be overlooked, and some one would have to go. An inquiry was
to be made, but on Tuesday morning the patron walked up the jetty,
and reported to Mr. Gustav Brown, who was the foreman of the works,
that the engine-driver and stoker were absent. He stated that they
had gone ashore in the night, and had not returned. Nothing could
be learned about them; nobody had seen them; their kits were still
on board. As the day wore on they did not come nor send any message;
so a report of their disappearance was sent to the judge at Cavite.
An engine-fitter from the works was sent on board to take charge
of the engine, and another stoker was engaged; the launch resuming
her running. The work of the Varadero proceeded as usual; divers
were preparing the foundations to receive the immense gridiron
which was shortly to be launched and sunk in place. It was a busy
scene of organised labour under a skilful resident engineer; every
difficulty foreseen and provided for, materials delivered in good time,
notwithstanding obstructions; not an unnecessary auger-hole bored,
not a stroke of an adze thrown away.
From the Sleepy Hollow of the naval arsenal opposite jealous eyes
watched the work proceed. Every art of vexation and obstruction that
bitter envy could devise had for years been employed to prevent
the building of this slip, and onerous and unfair conditions had
been inserted in the concession. But Anglo-American persistence and
industry had succeeded so far, and in the hands of Messrs. Peel,
Hubbell & Co. and their advisers, the work was now well advanced.
The obsolete corvette Dona Maria Molina was moored off the
coaling-wharf adjoining the Varadero, and when one of her boats was
going on shore the sailors noticed two dead bodies floating in the
water, and reported this to the officer of the watch, who ordered
them to tow the bodies to the shore towards Punta Sangley, and drag
them up on the sand above high-water mark. The bodies were lashed
together with a piece of new rope having a blue strand in the centre,
and had a good-sized piece of white granite attached as a sinker. On
looking at the lashings no one could doubt that the work had been
done by an able seaman. The bodies presented ghastly wounds, both had
fractures of the skull, and gaping cuts on the throat and abdomen;
they had also been gnawed by fishes. The swelling of the bodies had
sufficed to bring them to the surface, stone and all.
The news of the finding of the corpses did not immediately reach
the Varadero, and they were conveyed to Cavite, and buried just as
they were found, tied together with the ropes and stone, without
being identified. It seemed nobody's business to trouble about them,
notwithstanding the evident fact that they had been murdered. The
Manila newspapers did not mention the circumstance.
But at this time other events happened. The patron of the launch
disappeared without taking his kit with him. Then the boy disappeared,
and I may as well at once say that, from that time to this, that
boy has never been heard of by the Varadero Company, who were his
employers. Next, that gay and lascivious damsel of San Roque, whose
unbridled sensuality had wrought the trouble, also disappeared as
mysteriously as the others.
Dr. Juan Perez, of Cavite, was the medical attendant to the staff
of the Varadero, and used to call there every afternoon. On hearing
from him about the discovery of the bodies, the resident engineer
at once thought of his missing men, and the flight of the patron
confirmed his suspicions. A minute examination of the launch was
made, and revealed some stains of blood which had not been entirely
removed by the usual washing down. Several small cuts such as might
be made with the point of a bolo were found in the flat skylight
of the cabin, and a deeper cut on the bulwark rail, starboard side
forward, opposite the skylight. A working rope was missing from the
launch. It had only recently been supplied to it, and had been cut
off a whole coil purchased a few weeks before from a sailing-vessel,
for the use of the Varadero. That rope had a blue strand in the
centre. Gustav Brown put on a diving-dress, and went down at the head
of the northern jetty, where the launch used to lie, and carefully
examined the bottom. Presently his eye rested on an object that he
recognised. It was the square steel coal-breaker used by the stoker,
and he brought it up.
Meanwhile, a new coxswain had been found for the launch, and as the
old patron had left his vessel illegally, there was ground for his
arrest on that score, so orders were given to the new patron and
to the engine-driver to give him into custody if he came to claim
his kit. Next time the launch arrived in Manila, sure enough the
old patron appeared to fetch his belongings, and was taken to the
calaboose of the captain of the port. The resident engineer called on
that official, and, as a result of their conversation, the prisoner
was put on board the launch to be conveyed to Cavite.
With all the stoicism of the Malay, he sat quite still and silent;
his impassive features betrayed no sign of anxiety or remorse.
But if the principal actor in this bloody tragedy could thus compose
his mind, it was not so with others who knew more or less what had
happened, but whose dread and hatred of the law and its myrmidons
had kept their tongues quiet.
When the launch approached the Varadero near enough for the prisoner
to be recognised, an unusual commotion occurred amongst the swarm of
native workmen. A mysterious magnetism, an inexplicable vibration,
pervaded the crowd. Unfelt by the senses, it acted on the mind, and
seemed simultaneously to convey to each individual an identical idea.
The patron was a prisoner, therefore his crime was known; no good
could be done by keeping silent. Before this nobody knew anything
about the disappearance of the two men. Now it leaked out, but only in
confidence to Gustav Brown, whom they trusted. The native divers had
seen the bodies when at their work on the foundations, and had moved
them farther off out of their way. Men working at the jetties had seen
them when they floated, but had looked in another direction. In fact,
the corpses had been recognised, and the crime was known to scores
of native and Chinese workmen, but no word or hint ever reached the
foreman or the engineer till the culprit was arrested.
Now there were sufficient details to reconstitute the tragic scene.
The amour of the brothers with the San Roque girl was known, and also
the well-founded jealousy of the patron, who at first endeavoured
to obtain the engine-driver's discharge by the means already
mentioned. This not succeeding, he determined to kill both of them,
and without showing a sign of the deadly hatred that possessed him,
calmly awaited his opportunity.
On the Monday night, 7th June, after the incident of the safety-valve,
the launch was moored alongside the Varadero jetty, and the two
brothers lay fast asleep on the flat top of the cabin skylight,
each wrapped in his blanket.
A native sleeps hard, and is not easily awakened, nor when aroused
does he quickly regain his faculties. It is an important point in
the Malay code of manners never to awaken any person suddenly, for
it is believed that, during sleep, the soul is absent from the body,
wandering around, and must be given time to return, otherwise serious,
even fatal consequences, may ensue. The awakened person may become
an idiot, or some great harm may happen to the unmannerly one who
awakened him. Many natives have as great a fear of the wandering
soul of a sleeping person as of an evil spirit or ghost. The soul
is said to return to the body in the form of a small black ball,
which enters the mouth.
Moreover, one of the greatest, in fact, the most terrible, curse that
can be uttered by many tribes, is, "May you die sleeping," for it
means death to body and soul. That, however, was the fate reserved for
the brothers. Towards midnight, when the cooking-fires in the coolie
quarters had burnt down, and the chatter of the Chinese had subsided,
when the last lights in the Europeans' houses had been extinguished,
and not a sound broke the stillness of the night, the patron addressed
himself to the performance of his bloody task. Slipping his sharpened
bolo through his belt, he descended into the engine-room, and, seizing
the coal-breaker, crept forward to where the doomed men slumbered,
perhaps dreaming of the charms of that dark damsel, the enjoyment
of whose embraces was to cost them so dear. Meanwhile, their fate
approached; their time was come.
The patron was past his prime; privations at sea and dissipation on
shore had sapped his strength. But bitter hatred nerving his arm,
with lightning rapidity and terrific force he discharged a blow on
each sleeper's unprotected head. The sharp edge of the steel bar
crashed deep into their skulls, driving in the splintered bone upon
the brain. One agonised shudder from each, then all was still. A
European murderer might have been satisfied with this. Not so a
Tagal. A ceremony still remained to be accomplished. Their blood must
flow; they must suffer mutilation. Seizing his bolo, the assassin now
vented his rage in cutting and thrusting at the bodies. The heavy
and keen-edged blade fell repeatedly, cutting great gashes on the
throats and bellies of the victims, whilst streams of gore ran down
the waterways, and trickled out at the scuppers, staining the white
sides of the launch with crimson streaks.
His blood-thirst assuaged, his vengeance partly accomplished, and
his spirit comforted by his desperate deed, the murderer probably
paused for a time, and began to consider how he could conceal his
crime. No sign of movement anywhere. Apparently the dull sounds of the
blows had fallen on no mortal ear. Presently, taking up one of his
working ropes, he mounted the jetty, and walked to the shore, where
there lay a pile of stone ballast. It was white granite, discharged
from a sailing-ship that had come from Hong Kong in ballast, and it
had been purchased for the Varadero. Selecting a suitable piece,
he carried it to the end of the jetty, and lowered it by the rope
into the launch. Then, descending, he firmly lashed the two bodies
together, and fastened the stone to them. Then he drew the bodies to
the side, preparatory to launching them overboard. Now an incident
occurred. It is thought that one of the two men was not quite dead,
notwithstanding his dreadful wounds, and that recovering consciousness,
and perceiving what awaited him, seized the rail in his death-grasp,
and resisted the attempt to throw him over.
The patron must once again have had recourse to his murderous bolo,
bringing it down on the clenched hand, for a deep cut was found on
the rail with blood driven into the pores of the wood by that savage
blow. The tendons severed, the hand unclasped, and next moment the
bodies slid over the rail and down underneath the keel of the launch in
some four fathoms of water. Throwing the steel coal-breaker after them,
the patron's next task was to wash away the traces of his crime, and
this he did fairly well so that nothing was noticed, till, suspicion
being aroused, a careful scrutiny was made, with the result already
mentioned. It is not known whether the boy knew anything of the tragedy
performed so near him, for he was never questioned, having apparently
disappeared off the face of the earth as soon as the bodies were
found. What the patron did afterwards can only be conjectured. Guilty
of two atrocious murders, and of savage mutilation of the slain,
could he have composed himself to a quiet and dreamless slumber? Or
was his imagination fired to further revenge by dream-pictures of his
once-loved mistress in the arms of her youthful lovers? All that is
known is that he presented himself to the foreman early on the Tuesday
morning, and reported the absence of the two men without showing on
his dark visage the slightest sign of trouble or emotion.
We left the patron a prisoner on the launch. Now it became
necessary to give him in charge to the judicial authorities, for
it was getting late in the afternoon. They did not show any undue
eagerness to receive him. The judge first applied to explained that
he was only acting temporarily, that the judge had departed, having
been transferred to another place, and that the new judge had not
yet arrived, therefore he much regretted he could not take up the
case. An appeal was then made to the Gobernador-Politico-Militar, who
most courteously explained that a civil court was established in the
province with full jurisdiction, both criminal and civil, so that he
could not interfere. It was now nearly sunset, and the prisoner had
been on the launch all day. The resident engineer then called on the
Commandante of Canacao--a naval officer who had a few marines at his
disposal--and obtained as a personal favour that the prisoner should
be temporarily secured in the guard-room. The next day the resident
engineer proceeded to Cavite, and, accompanied by Dr. Juan Perez,
visited the principal authorities, and eventually succeeded in getting
the prisoner lodged in jail, and a charge of murder entered against
him. The bodies of the victims were never exhumed for examination. The
resident engineer made a declaration, which was taken down in writing,
and on one of his busiest days he was peremptorily summoned to appear
before the judge, and solemnly ratify his testimony.
About three days after Juan de la Cruz was lodged in Cavite jail,
the dead body of the San Roque damsel, gashed by savage blows of the
fatal bolo, was left by the ebb on the sands of Paranaque, a village
just across the little Bay of Bacoor opposite to San Roque. She had
paid with her life for her frailty as many another woman has done in
every clime. From the appearance of the body it was thought it had
been several days in the water.
No legal evidence was forthcoming to fix the crime on any one,
although few of those who knew the story harboured a doubt that the
assassin of the two brothers was the murderer of the girl also.
Juan de la Cruz remained in prison, and from time to time, but with
increasing intervals, the resident engineer, the foreman and others
were cited by the judge, interrogated, then cited again to ratify
their declarations.
The espediente, a pile of stamped paper, grew thicker and thicker,
but the trial seemed no nearer. Month after month rolled on, the
Varadero was finished, ships were drawn up, repaired and launched,
Juan continued in prison.
The resident engineer departed to other climes, and was soon expending
his energy in building the great harbour at La Guayra. I was the means
of obtaining an order for six gun-boats for the Varadero Company. They
were built, launched, tried and delivered, and steamed away to overawe
the piratical Moros. Still Juan continued in prison. Judges came and
judges went, but the trial came no nearer. Year after year a judge
of the Audiencia came in state to inspect the prisoners, and year
after year Juan was set down as awaiting his trial.
In December, 1892, I left the Philippines for Cuba and Juan de la
Cruz was still in Cavite jail.
Dr. Juan Perez, the surgeon who had examined the corpses, died, having
wrongly diagnosed his own case, and Dr. Hugo Perez, a half caste,
was appointed in his stead. Gustav Brown, the foreman, wearied of the
monotony of ship repairing, became possessed by a longing to resume his
nomadic life amongst the palm-clad islands of the Pacific. He purchased
a schooner and embarked with his wife and family. First running down
to Singapore to take in trade-goods for bartering with the natives,
he sailed away for the Carolines where his wife's home lay. He never
reached them; for, soon after leaving Singapore, he came to a bloody
end at the hands of his Chinese crew, who killed and decapitated him.
The insurrection broke out in Cavite Province, Colonel Mattone's column
was defeated by the insurgents with great slaughter. Dr. Hugo Perez,
the successor of Dr. Juan Perez, was suspected of sympathising with
the rebels, and, needless to say, he soon came to a bloody end. He
did not have to wait long for his trial.
In 1896, Mr. George Gilchrist, the engineer at the Varadero, who was
not in the Philippines when the murders were committed, was cited by
the judge, and asked if he could identify the prisoner ten years after
his arrest! Two years more passed, and in April, 1898, Mr. Gilchrist
returned to Scotland for a well-earned holiday. When he left Canacao,
Juan de la Cruz was still in prison awaiting his trial.
He may have escaped when the rebels occupied Cavite after Admiral
Dewey's victory over the Spanish Squadron in the Bay of Bacoor.
For the murderer no pity need be felt, he certainly had nothing to
gain and all to lose by a trial. A double murder, premeditated,
accompanied by acts of great barbarity, and committed at night,
constitutes by the Penal Code a capital offence with three aggravating
circumstances which would forbid all hope of clemency.
But what can be thought of courts so remiss in their duty? How many
innocent prisoners have waited years for their trial? How many have
died in prison?
Piratical Outrage in Luzon.
At Laguimanoc, a port and village in the Province of Tayabas, there
resided an Englishman, Mr. H. G. Brown, who had been many years in
the Philippines. By the exercise of untiring industry, by braving
the malaria of the primeval forests, and by his never-failing tact in
dealing with the officials of the Woods and Forests on the one hand,
and with the semi-barbarous and entirely lawless wood-cutters on
the other, he had built up an extensive business in cutting timber
in the state forests of Southern Luzon and the adjacent islands. He
was owner of several sailing vessels, had a well-appointed saw-mill,
and a comfortable residence at Languimanoc. He employed large numbers
of wood-cutters; all under advances of pay, who were scattered about
the Provinces of Tayabas, and Camarines Norte over a considerable area.
His business was so considerable that he paid the Government fully
$30,000 per year as royalty on timber which was mostly shipped to
Hong Kong and Shanghai.
In order to facilitate a business so profitable to them the Government
placed a Custom House official at Atimonan, in the Bay of Lamon on
the Pacific coast, to clear and despatch his timber vessels loaded
at Atimonan, Gumacas, Lopez, Alabat Island, or other places. To show
how little Mr. Brown spared himself, I may mention that not even
the dreaded jungle-fever of Mindoro prevented him from personally
superintending the loading of several vessels at different ports of
that pestilential island. In persistence and pluck he was a worthy
predecessor of Professor D. C. Worcester, who years afterwards showed
his Anglo-Saxon determination in the same fearsome spot.
One day in December of 1884, Mr. Brown being absent in Hong Kong,
and his manager, Mr. Anderson, busy on the Pacific coast, looking
after the loading of a vessel, the out-door superintendent, a Swede
named Alfred Olsen, was in charge of the house, office, and saw-mill
at Laguimanoc, and was attending to the loading of the Tartar, one
of Mr. Brown's ships which was anchored in the bay taking in timber
for China. She had a native crew who occasionally of an evening, when
ashore to enjoy themselves, got up a disturbance with the villagers. On
board this vessel there were, as is usual, two Carabineros or Custom
House guards to prevent smuggling.
Although no one in the village suspected it, two large canoes full of
armed men were lying concealed behind a point in Capuluan Cove on the
opposite side of the Bay. At eight o'clock in the evening, it being
quite dark, they came across, and in perfect order, according to a
pre-arranged plan advanced in silence on the village. The assailants
numbered twenty-eight men, and were variously armed with lances, bolos
and daggers. Only the leader bore a revolver. A guard was left on the
canoes, four of the gang were stationed at the door of Mr. Brown's
house, and others at strategic points, whilst the main body attacked
the Tribunal close by which was also the estanco where there was some
Government money, postage stamps and stamped paper. At all Tribunales
there are a couple of cuadrilleros, or village constables on guard,
armed usually with lance and bolo. These men did their duty and
manfully resisted the pirates. In the combat which ensued, the sergeant
of the Cuadrilleros was killed and some on both sides were wounded,
but the pirates got the best of the fight, and plundered the estanco.
In the meantime, Olsen, having heard the uproar, may have thought that
the crew of the Tartar were again making a disturbance. At all events
he left the house unarmed and unsuspicious, thus walking into the trap
laid for him. The Tagals have a great respect for fire-arms, more
especially for the revolvers and repeating rifles of the foreigner,
thus they did not venture to enter the house, but the moment Olsen
stepped out into the darkness and before he could see round about
him, he was attacked by two men on each side, who plunged their
daggers into his body, piercing his lungs. Bleeding profusely and
vomiting blood he rushed back into the house towards his bedroom to
get his revolver which was under the bed. His assailants, however,
followed him into the room and butchered him before he could grasp
it. At least the revolver was afterwards found in its case with the
perfect impress of his blood-stained hand upon the oaken lid. A native
boy named Pablo, about eight years old, was in the house at the time,
and in his terror squeezed himself into a narrow space behind the door
and escaped discovery, although he was an eye-witness of the crime.
By this time the alarm had spread all over the little village, and
the noise was heard on board the Tartar. The two Carabineros, taking
their Remingtons and cartridge boxes, had themselves paddled on shore,
and marching up the stairs which led to the rocky eminence on which
the village stands, bravely advanced against the pirates although
out-numbered by more than ten to one. They fired their rifles,
but the gang rushed upon them and in a moment they were cut down,
and according to Tagal custom, their bellies were ripped open. The
pirates having now overcome all opposition and having plundered
the estanco, and the inevitable Chinaman's shop, transferred their
attention to Mr. Brown's house, which they ransacked, taking the
contents of the safe, a collection of gold and silver coins, seven
Martini-Henry rifles with ammunition, and two revolvers, as well as
any other things they deemed of value. They burst open the desks,
drawers, and wardrobes, cutting and hacking the furniture with their
bolos in wanton mischief. Then embarking their spoil, they sailed
away with the land breeze.
Information had been sent off to the nearest post of the Guardia Civil,
and on its receipt, an officer with a force of that corps instantly
set off and captured one party of the pirates red-handed as they
beached their canoe. Within a week twenty-six had been captured and
one shot dead whilst escaping. There only remained the leader. He,
as it was afterwards discovered, was concealed in a secluded wood a
few miles from Sariaya, and one night he was speared by the Captain
of Cuadrilleros of that town, who is said to have had valid reasons
for getting him out of the way.
This band of pirates were a mixed lot; some of them were principales or
members of the town council of Sariaya, a picturesque little place on
the southern slope of Mount Banajao, and some from San Juan de Boc-boc;
others were ordinary inhabitants, a few were outlaws from the San Juan
mountains, and four or five were fishermen whom the gang had met on
their passage by sea and had invited to accompany them. This custom
of Convites is explained in Chapter XXV. Of course the fishermen,
when interrogated, declared they had been pressed into the service,
but in fact very few natives have the moral courage to decline so
pleasing an entertainment, as it appeals to a feeling deeply seated
in their hearts, the love of rapine, only to be restrained by the
heavy hand of a military police "who do not hesitate to shoot." The
provincial doctor arrived next morning with the judge who was to take
the depositions of the villagers and draw up the sumario. Olsen was
dead, the sergeant of Cuadrilleros also and one of the Carabineros,
but strange to say, in spite of a dozen ghastly wounds, the other
one was still alive, though his bowels were protruding, having fallen
out through the gash which it is the Tagal custom to finish off with.
When the provincial doctor saw him, he said, "Nothing can possibly
be done for him," and departed. So, abandoned to his own resources,
he replaced the bowels himself, and getting one of the villagers to
bind him up, he eventually recovered. He was seen by Mr. Brown a year
or two later, and is probably alive now. This seems extraordinary, but
a similar case occurred to a man who had worked under me. An English
bricklayer named John Heath had been employed building furnaces and
kilns in Manila, and having completed his work, took to farming and
rented some grass meadows (sacate lands) at Mandaloyan. One night he
and another Englishman staying with him were attacked in his house by a
party of Tagals with drawn bolos. The visitor, although wounded, leaped
from the window and escaped, but Heath was cut down, then lifted on to
the window sill, hacked about, and finally, according to Tagal custom,
ripped open and left for dead. Yet this man also entirely recovered,
and after a year seemed as strong as ever, although he was advised
not to exert his strength. This outrage was clearly agrarian, and was,
I feel sure, committed by those who had previously rented these lands
and had been turned out. No one was ever punished for it.
To return to the gang of pirates; two had been killed, the rest were
in prison. Year after year passed, still they remained in prison;
judges came, stayed their term, were promoted and went, but still
these men were never sentenced.
In 1889, I visited Laguimanoc to make a plan and valuation of the
property, as the business was about to be taken over by a Limited
Liability Company, established in Hong Kong. This was five years after
the date of the murders, some of the prisoners had died in prison, the
others were awaiting their sentence. But I found that the Government
had established a sergeant's post of the Guardia Civil in the village,
which effectually prevented a repetition of the outrage.
A year later I again visited Laguimanoc, but the trial of the prisoners
was no further advanced. No less than nine of them died in prison,
still no sentence was pronounced. Even for a Philippine Court this
was extraordinary, for the gang had committed the unpardonable crime
"Resistencia a fuerza armada" (Resistance to an armed force), and could
have been tried by Court-martial and summarily shot. They had also
dared to lay their profane hands on the sacred money-box containing
a portion of the "Real Haber" (Government money), so that it was not
only a question of murder and robbery of private people. But the Civil
Court, negligent, slothful, and corrupt, could not be got to convict,
and a few years ago, Mr. Brown having left the islands, the surviving
prisoners were pardoned by the Queen Regent on the occasion of the
young King's birthday.
The contrast between the military and civil elements in this case is
very strong.
The military element performed its duties thoroughly well, under great
difficulties, and promptly arrested the malefactors. In my experience
this has been always the case, and I draw from it the conclusion
that military Government is essential to the pacification of the
Philippines and that authority must be backed up by a native force
of constabulary under American officers who must be young and active.
Such offences as piracy or gang-robbery should never come before a
Civil Court, but should be promptly settled by court-martial before
which no technicalities or legal subtleties need be taken into account.
A firm, nay, a heavy hand over the Philippines is the most merciful
in the long run.
I am sorry to have to relate that the Company which took over
Mr. Brown's business did not long prosper. Whilst he remained at the
head of it, all went well, but as soon as he left to take a much-needed
rest, it began to fail. The personality of the individual is everything
in most Spanish countries and especially in the Philippines. No
manager could be found who could keep on terms with the officials,
control the wild wood-cutters or risk jungle-fever by entering the
forests to personally inspect the work.
The organization decayed and the business went to pieces. Let intending
investors take note.