CHAPTER XIX.

LIFE IN MANILA.

(A CHAPTER FOR THE LADIES.)

Climate--Seasons--Terrible Month of May--Hot

winds--Longing for rain--Burst of the monsoon--The

Alimoom--Never sleep on the ground floor--Dress--Manila

houses--Furniture--Mosquitoes--Baths--Gogo--Servants--Wages

in 1892--The Maestro cook--The guild

of cooks--The Mayordomo--Household budget,

1892--Diet--Drinks--Ponies--Carriage a necessity for a lady--The

garden--Flowers--Shops--Pedlars--Amusements--Necessity of access

to the hills--Good Friday in Manila.

Climate.

The average shade temperature of Manila all the year round is 83 deg.

Fahrenheit. The highest I have ever seen there was 96 deg., at 2 P.M. in

May, and the lowest 68 deg., at 6 A.M. in December.

The temperature of the sea-water on the shore at Malate is usually

82 deg., and that of well-water about the same. The water-pipes from the

reservoir at San Juan del Monte are not buried, but are carried on an

embankment. They are partly shaded from the sun by clumps of bamboos,

but on a hot afternoon the water sometimes attains a temperature

of 90 deg.

Those figures are high, yet the heat is mitigated by the sea-breeze,

and the nights are usually cool enough to allow a refreshing sleep.

The climate of Manila is not harmful to the constitutions of healthy

Europeans or Americans between twenty and fifty years of age, provided

they at once adopt a mode of life suitable to the country, and in

clothing, diet, habits and recreations, adapt themselves to the new

conditions. On the other hand, I apprehend that, for persons of either

sex over fifty who have had no previous experience of life in the

tropics, there will be great difficulty in acclimatising themselves,

and the mortality amongst such will be abnormal. Ladies' complexions

will not suffer more than if they lived in a steam-heated house in

Harlem, New York.

In all this part of the world the weather depends upon the

monsoons. These blow with great regularity over the ocean, six months

from the north-east and six months from the south-west. Their action

on any particular place is, however, modified by the situation of

mountains with regard to that place. The changes of the monsoon occur

in April--May and October--November. It is the south-west monsoon

that brings rain to Manila, and it has a fine stretch of the China

Sea to career over, all the way, in fact, from the shores of Sumatra,

till it drives the billows tumbling and foaming into the bay.

The typhoons form far out in the Pacific near the region of the Western

Carolines, and, whirling round the opposite way to the hands of a

watch, they proceed on a curve that may strike Luzon, or, perhaps,

go on for a thousand miles or more, and carry death and destruction

to the fishermen of Fo Kien or Japan.

When a typhoon passes clear, the usual result is several days of

continuous heavy rain, but the air is cleared and purified. But should

the vortex of the cyclone pass over your residence, you will not be

likely to forget it for the rest of your life.

The year in Manila may be roughly divided into three seasons:--

Rainy Season--June, July, August, September. In these four months

about 100 inches of rain may fall, and 20 more in the rest of

the year.

Cool Season (so-called)--October, November, December, January.

Hot Season--February, March, April, May.

May is the terrible month of the year, the month of fevers and

funerals. Let all who can, leave Manila before this month arrives.

Hot, dry winds, dust-laden, pervade the houses, and have such an

effect even on well-seasoned hardwoods, that tables, wardrobes and

door-panels, split from end to end, or from top to bottom, with a

noise like a pistol-shot, leaving cracks a quarter of an inch wide

that gape till the rainy season restores the moisture.

At this time the heat is at its maximum, and all nature gasps or

fades. Not a drop of rain has fallen for months, the roads are inches

deep in dust, the rivers nearly stagnant, and covered with a green

scum, the whole country quite brown, the vegetation burnt up by the

sun. Only the cockroaches rejoice; at this season they fly at night,

and you may have a few fine specimens of the Blatta Orientalis alight

on your face, or on the back of your neck, should you doze a moment

on your long chair. Personally, I am proof against a good deal, but

must confess that the hairy feet of a cockroach on my face or neck

make me shudder.

As the month draws to a close, every afternoon the storm-clouds

gather over the Antipolo Hills. All Manila, lying in the glare and

dust, prays for rain. Overhead, a sky like burnished copper darts

down heat-rays that penetrate the roofs, and literally strike the

heads of the occupants. The dry air is surcharged with electricity to

such an extent that every living thing feels the powerful influence;

the sweetest natures become irritable, and quite ready to admit that

"this is, indeed, a beastly world."

The nervous system suffers, the newspapers relate cases of stabbing,

or even running amok amongst the natives, and perhaps some suicides

occur. If, as not unfrequently happens, you should at this time

receive an invitation to the funeral of a friend or compatriot just

deceased from typhoid fever, and to be buried within twenty-four

hours, you will begin to wonder whether Manila is good enough for

you. Day after day the rain-clouds disperse amidst the rumbling of

a distant thunder-storm, and day after day do longing eyes watch for

their coming, and hope for the cloud-burst.

At last, when the limit of endurance seems reached, a cool breath of

air heralds the downpour. The leaves rustle, the feathery bamboos

incline before the blast, the sky darkens, the cataracts of heaven

are loosed, and the water tumbles down in torrents.

Now keep yourself in the house, and on the upper floor, and let the

water from your roofs run to waste. The natives, usually so careless of

a wetting, avoid bathing or wetting themselves with the first waters,

which they consider dangerous, and not without reason. The exhalations

from the newly-wetted earth are to be avoided; these earth-vapours are

called by the Tagals Alimoom. Now the dust is washed off the roofs and

leaves, and in three days the fallows are covered with small shoots

of grass or weeds, the maidenhair ferns and mosses spring from every

stone wall. The reign of dust is over; the reign of mud begins. Now the

frogs inaugurate their nightly concerts. After a time you get used to

the deafening noise; you do not even hear it. But they suddenly stop,

and you are astonished at the stillness.

As the rainy season proceeds, the air is almost entirely saturated

with moisture: the saturation in August sometimes exceeds 97 per cent.

Now green mould will grow upon your boots and other leather articles,

if left a couple of days without cleaning. Everything feels damp,

and it is a good plan to air your wardrobe round a brazier of red-hot

charcoal.

You will have noticed that the natives universally build their houses

upon piles. So do the Malays all over the Far East. This is the

expression of the accumulated experience of centuries, and you will

be wise to conform to it by never sleeping on the ground floor. To

a dweller in the Philippines this tip is worth the price of the book.

Dress.

The dress of both sexes should be as light as possible; my advice is,

wear as little as possible, and wear it thin and loose. The access

of air to the body is necessary to carry off the perspiration, some

of which is in the form of vapour.

Ladies will find the greatest comfort in the simple but elegant

dresses called batas, which are princess robes made of embroidered

cambric or lawn. The materials for these dresses can be purchased in

Manila, and excellent sempstresses and embroiderers can be hired at

moderate wages, and the dresses made in the house. For the evenings,

thin silk or muslin dresses, cut low, are most suitable.

Men who are young and robust should wear white duck jackets,

and trousers without waistcoats. Elderly men, or those subject to

rheumatism, will do well to wear thin flannel suits. The material

for these can be got in Hong Kong. For travelling and shooting,

unbleached linen, guingon, or rayadillo, is the best material,

made into Norfolk jackets and pantaloons. I always found white or

brown leather shoes the best wear, and canvas shooting-boots capped

and strapped with leather. A Panama hat, or a solar topee, is the

best head-wear. If one has to be much in the sun, a white umbrella,

lined with green, should be carried. Dress is not an expensive item

in Manila. Up to 1892, the washing for a whole family, with bed and

table-linen, could be done for $12 per month.

Houses.

Most of the older houses in Manila are of ample size, and well suited

to the climate, but some of the newer ones, built to the designs

of a Spanish architect, and having glass windows, are very hot and

uncomfortable. It is essential to live in a good-sized house, so

as to escape the heat by moving to a different part as the sun goes

round. Thus you will have your early breakfast in one corner of the

balcony; your tiffin, perhaps, on the ground floor; your tea in the

open corridor looking on the garden, and your dinner, at 7.30 P.M.,

in the dining-room under the punkah.

House-rent is paid monthly, and, up to 1892, a good detached house of

moderate size could be got in one of the best suburbs for $100 per

month, and for less in Santa Ana. Such a house would stand in its

own garden, and would have stables for several horses, and shelter

for one or two carriages.

I understand that house-rent is now nearly doubled in consequence

of the American competition. From their lavish expenditure, we must

infer that the new-comers possess large private means in addition to

their salaries.

Furniture.

The furnishing of a tropical house is much simplified, because no

carpets or curtains are needed. The floors are of polished hardwood,

and they take a good deal of work to keep them in good order. A

few rugs can be put down here and there, if a little colour is

required. Where the floor is bad, Chinese matting can be laid down at

small expense. Some of the Mestizos import costly furniture, but few

of the European residents attempted to follow their example. Vienna

bent-wood furniture, with cane seats, was commonly used, and was very

suitable, also bamboo or rattan furniture, brought from China or made

in the country. Such things as wardrobes or bookcases should have

ring-bolts on each side for lashing to the walls. A child or grown

person might be killed by a heavy piece of furniture falling on it

during an earthquake.

Furniture of all sorts is made in Manila of Red Narra, or other

wood, by Chinese cabinet-makers, who will work to purchasers'

requirements. Very excellent teak-wood furniture is made in Hong Kong

and Shanghai.

The problem of furnishing a large house for a moderate sum, and making

it comfortable, and at the same time artistic and refined, is not a

difficult one, and has often been very satisfactorily solved in Manila.

Large stoneware flower-pots and pedestals can be purchased in Manila,

and no more suitable ornament can be found than handsome palms, ferns,

or flowering plants, for halls, corridors, or reception rooms.

The beds should be large, and have thin, hard mattresses and horse-hair

pillows stuffed rather hard. The coolest thing to lie upon is a fine

grass mat, or petate. Covering is seldom required. On the bed will

be seen a large bolster lying at right angles to the pillows, so as

to be parallel to the sleeper. The use of this is not apparent to

the newly-arrived Briton or American. This is the Abrazador, used

throughout the boundless East.

The candidate for repose, whether on the hard bed, or harder floor

or deck, lies on his side, and rests his upper arm and leg on the

Abrazador, thus relieving his hip and shoulder from much of his

weight. He takes care to keep it a little way off his body to allow

the air to circulate.

A mosquito-net must be fitted to every bed, but may not always be

required. In the sleeping-room there should be no curtains, and

the least possible amount of furniture, and, during the hot season,

the bed should stand in the middle of the room. It is advisable to

have no light in the bedroom, but good lights are a necessity in

the dressing-rooms.

By being careful about this you will keep your bedroom free from

mosquitoes. Petroleum is commonly used in the Philippines for lighting,

and unless the lamps are of the best quality, and carefully trimmed,

there is considerable danger of accident. I used to keep some plants

in pots in each room so as to throw the earth over any oil that might

get alight. Whenever there was a shock of earthquake, I extinguished

the petroleum lamps, and lighted candles instead. And whenever we went

out to a dinner or dance, every petroleum lamp was extinguished, and

cocoanut-oil lights or candles substituted in case of an earthquake

whilst we were out.

Frequent baths are indispensable to good health in Manila. Enormous

earthenware tubs, made in China, can be procured. These are placed

in the bath-room, and filled in the evening, so that the water gets

refreshingly cool during the night. It is not at all advisable to get

into the water, as the effect is not so good as dashing the water over

the head with a small bucket called a tabo. By using the water thus,

and rubbing the skin briskly with a towel, a reaction soon sets in,

and the bather feels quite invigorated.

A bath of this kind when rising, and another before dressing for

dinner, will do much to mitigate the rigour of the climate.

From several stories told me by friends recently returned from Manila,

it would seem that the Americans there, or some of them, at least,

are not sufficiently alive to the necessity of daily baths, but I

refrain from giving particulars.

This seems strange when one remembers the profusion with which baths

are provided in all the modern hotels in the great cities of America.

Now I must tell you about gogo. This is the dried bark of a creeper

that grows wild in the woods, and it is the finest thing possible to

keep your hair in order.

There are several kinds of this plant, the three most commonly used

are gogo bayugo (Entada scandens Benth.); gogong casay (Peltophorum

ferrugineum Benth.); gogong paltaning (Albizzia saponaria Blum.).

As washing the hair with gogo is one of the luxuries of the

Philippines, I shall describe how it is done.

A servant pounds a piece of the stem and bark, and steeps it in a

basin, twisting and wringing it occasionally until the soluble part

has been extracted. He then adds to the liquor two or three limes,

squeezing the juice out, and soaking the peel. He also throws in

a handful of crushed citron-leaves, and strains the liquor through

muslin.

The servant then ladles this over your head with a calabash, or

cocoa-nut shell, whilst you rub your hair with your hands.

As the liquor is strongly alkaline, you must be careful to keep

your eyes closed until the head has been rinsed with water. Your

hair-wash is made fresh whenever you want it, and may cost from two

to three pence.

The fragrance of the citron-leaves is delicious, and when you have

rinsed and dried your hair, you will find it as soft, as bright, and as

sweet-smelling as the costliest perfumes of Bond Street could make it.

Servants.

In the good old times we were well off for servants in Manila. They

flocked up from the provinces seeking places, and those employers

who took pains to enquire closely into the antecedents of applicants,

could almost ensure being well served.

Englishmen paid good wages, and paid punctually, hence they could

command the best servants.

Personally, I may say that I kept my servants for years--some nearly

the whole time I was in the islands. I had very little trouble with

any of them. There are people who say that they have no feeling,

but I remember that when I embarked with my family on leaving Manila,

my servants, on taking leave at the wharf, were convulsed with tears

at our departure.

A family living comfortably in a good-sized house would require the

following servants:--

Wages in 1892.

Dollars.

Mayordomo, or steward, who would act as butler 8 per month.

Two houseboys, one would valet the master, the

other would trim lamps and pull the punkah, @ $6 12 per month.

Sempstress or maid to mistress 6 per month.

Gardener or coolie, would carry water for

baths, sweep and water 6 per month.

Coachman, would look after one pair of horses

and carriage 12 per month.

Food for six servants, @ $3 each 18 per month.

Maestro cook 18 per month.

--

80

American competition for servants has more than doubled these rates

of pay. Cooks get $50 now.

The house-boys and maid live in the house, and sleep on the floor,

with a grass mat and pillows. The mayordomo sometimes lives quite

near, being, perhaps, a married man. The coachman has his room by

the stables, and the gardener lives in the lodge, or in a small hut

in the garden.

The maestro-cook does not usually sleep on the premises. He

arrives about 11 A.M., bearing two baskets depending from a pinga,

or palma-brava staff, resting on his shoulder. These baskets will

contain the day's marketing--eggs, fish, meat, chicken, salad,

tomatoes, bananas, firewood, and many other things.

He promptly sets to work, and by twelve, or half-past, presents a

tiffin of three or four courses.

His afternoon is devoted to preparing the more elaborate dinner due

at 7.30 P.M., when he will be ready to serve soup, fish, entrees,

a roast, a curry, and sweets, all conscientiously prepared, and sent

in hot. Most excellent curries are made in Manila, both by Chinamen

and natives. To my mind, the best are made from prawns, from crab,

or from frogs' legs. If you cannot eat anything else at dinner,

you can always make out with the curry.

The dinner over, the cook asks for orders, and takes his departure,

to return with perfect punctuality the following day.

The Chinese cooks all belong to a guild, which is a trades' union

and a co-operative society, and are bound to follow the rules.

They would never dream of going into a market and bidding one against

the other.

Their system is to assemble early every morning at the guild house,

and for each man to state his requirements. A scribe then tabulates the

orders--so many turkeys, so many chickens, etc., and two experienced

cooks are commissioned as buyers to go into the market and purchase

the whole lot, the provisions being afterwards fairly divided amongst

the members, each having his turn to get the choice pieces, such as

saddle of mutton, kidneys, etc. But if a dinner-party is contemplated,

the cook who has to prepare it gets the preference.

They thus obtain everything much cheaper than the native cooks, even

after taking a good squeeze for themselves. I believe that they have

a fixed percentage which they charge, and would consider it dishonest

to take any more, whilst the guild would not approve of their taking

any less.

If you send away your cook, the guild will settle for you who is

to replace him. All your culinary fancies will be well known to the

council of the guild, and they will pick out a man up to your standard.

It was customary to give the cook a fixed sum per day to provide

tiffin and dinner, and this was paid once a week.

I found that two dollars a day was sufficient to amply provide for my

family, and I could have one guest to tiffin or dinner without notice,

and be confident that the meal would be sufficient. In fact, this was

part of my agreement with the cook. By giving short notice, the dinner

could be extended for two or three people at an additional charge.

The cook rendered no account of the money he received; but, if I

was not satisfied with the meals he provided, I admonished him,

and if he did not do better I discharged him. I may say, however,

that there was very seldom cause for complaint, for the Chinese are

thorough business men.

When a dinner-party was given, the cook provided according to order,

and sent in his bill for the extras. There was no housekeeping, and

no need to order anything, and you knew exactly how much you were

spending weekly, and how much a dinner-party cost.

The cleaning and polishing your plate and glass, the laying the

table, the tasteful adorning of it with variegated leaves, with

ferns or flowers, and the artistic folding of the serviettes, may

with confidence be left to the mayordomo's care; every detail will

be attended to down to the ylang-ylang flowers in the finger-bowls.

With such servants as these, the mistress of the house, free from

domestic cares, may take her shower-bath, and, clad in Kabaya

and Sarong, await the moment when she must resume the garments of

civilisation, and receive her guests looking as fresh, in spite of

the thermometer, as if she had stepped out of a coupe in Piccadilly

or Fifth Avenue. Ladies used to the ministry of Irish Biddy or Aunt

Chloe ought to fancy themselves transported to heaven when they find

themselves at the head of a household in Manila.

I append a note of household expenses for a family living moderately

in Manila in 1892. I suppose the cost has been doubled under American

rule.

Household Budget in 1892.

For a family of three adults and three children.

Mexican Dollars.

House-rent per month 100

Servants' wages and food per month 80

Washing per month 12

Forage and grain for two ponies per month 16

Allowance to cook for market per month 60

Extra for two dinner-parties of six or eight

guests each 20

Bill at Almacen (grocery store) for groceries,

ordinary wines, spirits, and petroleum per month 65

Bill at Botica (drug store) for soda water, ice

and various articles per month 20

Case of champagne for dinner-parties per month 25

Repairs to carriage, shoeing horses, materials

for cleaning stable, etc. per month 10

Garden expenses--plants, tools, hose per month 5

Subscriptions to clubs, telephone, newspapers,

and charities per month 20

Tobacco and cigars per month 7

Taxes on servants and horses per month 10

Clothing for self and family per month 50

Pocket money, entertainments, and sundries per month 100

-----

Per month 600

Say $7,200 per annum.

Diet.

For the benefit of Boston readers (if I should be lucky enough to

have any in that learned city), I may say that pork and beans is not

a suitable diet for a tropical country. I should also forbid the "New

England dinner," and roast goose, or sucking pig, stewed terrapin,

and pumpkin pie. A light diet of eggs or the excellent fish to be had

in Manila, chickens fattened on maize, beef or mutton, once a day,

and rice, vegetables and salad, with plenty of ripe fruit, according

to the season, is desirable. The fare can be diversified by oysters,

prawns, crabs, wild duck, snipe, and quail, all of which are cheap

and very good in the season. There are no pheasants in Luzon, but

the jungle cock (labuyao) is as good or better.

In the tropics a good table is a necessity, for the appetite needs

tempting. Such a diet as I have mentioned will keep you in health,

especially if you are careful not to eat too much, but to eat of the

best. If you economise on your table you will have to spend the money

at the drug-store. Taboo pork, because--well, when you have been a

week or two in the country you will not need to ask why--Moses and

Mahomet knew what they were about.

My remarks about drinks are intended for the men, as ladies do not

need any advice on this subject. In a tropical climate it is necessary

to be very careful in the use of spirits.

Having lived for more than twenty-five years in the tropics, and

having kept my health remarkably well, I feel warranted in giving my

experience. I have made surveys, or directed works, in many climates,

exposed to all weathers, and I know that the very worst thing a man

can take, if he has to work or march in the sun, is spirits. There is

nothing that will predispose him to sunstroke as much as spirits. For

marching, walking, or shooting, in the sun, I know nothing like cold

tea without milk or sugar. It should be poured off the leaves after

infusing for two minutes.

When you reach shelter you can take a lemon squash or a cagelada--this

is the juice of cageles (a kind of orange) with sugar and water--which

is a most cooling drink. Never take spirits to buck you up to your

work. Whatever spirits you drink, let it be after sunset. I am a

believer in drinking wine at meals; it makes me shudder to see people

drinking tea, lemonade, or milk, with their dinners, and laying up

for themselves torments from dyspepsia, for which they have to swallow

pills by the boxful.

Ponies.

There is a race of ponies in the islands that is descended from Spanish

and Arab horses, and owing to an absolutely haphazard breeding, the

size has diminished, although the symmetry has been preserved. Those

from Ilocos are the smallest, but they are the hardiest and most

spirited.

A pair of ponies and a Victoria is an absolute necessity for a lady

in Manila, and I have little doubt that an American judge would

declare the "failure to provide" to be cruelty and grant a divorce

if applied for.

Both harness and carriages are made in the city, but imported harness

can be had, better finished, at double the price.

In my time a fine pair of ponies could be bought for $200 to $300;

a new Victoria for $500, and harness for $60. The cost of keeping a

pair of ponies was $16 per month, and a coachman $12 per month, food,

and livery. What the cost is now I have no information.

The public carriages were not fit for a lady to use, though sometimes a

suitable one could be hired by the week or month from a livery stable.

The ponies are wonderfully strong and sure-footed. I weigh over 200

lbs., yet some of these ponies have carried me about all day over

rough ground without stumbling. They carry a lady beautifully, and

riding is the best form of exercise a lady can take.

The Garden.

The garden will be a great source of occupation to the mistress of

the house. If it is sheltered from the wind and supplied with water,

she can grow almost anything. And plants will come up quickly, too,

under the influence of the heat and moisture.

There are nursery gardens at Pasay, where all sorts of plants and

seedlings can be obtained; in fact, these are hawked about morning

and evening.

The so-called gardener rarely has much skill, but he will clean up

the garden and water it, and do what he is told.

The most beautiful and delicate ferns can be grown, and

magnificent orchids got to flower, if they are well sheltered in

a mat-shed. Bananas and pines grow without trouble, and radishes,

salads, tomatoes, cucumbers, and melons, can be raised.

Shops.

You can get most things you want in Manila. The drug-stores are mostly

in German hands, but there is one English one where the usual English

articles can be got.

There is an ample supply of wines, spirits, and preserved provisions

at the grocers, and the drapers keep on hand any quantity of silks,

muslins, and piece-goods, with all the necessary fixings. French and

German shoes are in plenty.

The goods in the jewellers' shops and in the fancy bazaars are all of

a very florid style, to suit the gaudy taste of the wealthy Filipinos.

Such piece-goods and haberdashery as are in common use are brought

round to the ladies at their own houses by Chinese hawkers, who,

having small expenses, sell remarkably cheap.

They are always very civil and attentive, and will gladly get you

any article that they have not in stock at the moment.

Ladies save going about in the heat and dust by purchasing from

these men.

Amusements.

The amusements for ladies were limited to riding, lawn-tennis, boating,

picnics, and frequent dances. I remember many delightful dances

in Manila. One was given to the officers of the U.S.S. Brooklyn,

and another to the U.S.S. Richmond. At the latter, the ladies were

in traje del pais, i.e., dressed as natives and mestizas. And very

handsome some of them looked. Now and again some theatrical company

would come over, mostly from Saigon. There were a good many dinner

parties given amongst the British community, and weekly receptions

at most of the principal houses, during the time I lived in Manila,

where you could get a little game of cards, dance, flirt, or take it

easy, just as you liked.

The ladies very wisely took a rest from two to four, to be fresh for

the evening. The proper hour for calling was at 9 P.M. or 10 A.M. on

Sundays after High Mass.

I knew several ladies, English and American, who look back upon a

term of years spent in Manila as the happiest in their lives.

Children born in Manila can remain there without damage to their

health till ten or twelve years old, and after having spent a few

years at home are indistinguishable from children born and brought

up in England.

The principal thing lacking in Manila is means of access to the hills

where people could go occasionally for a change and during the hot

season. I have little doubt that the Americans will provide this

before long.

Manila was not without its frivolous element; but there was one

period of the year when all frivolities were suspended, and religious

observances monopolised the people's time. That was in Lent, and the

ceremonies culminated on Good Friday.

The Very Noble and always Loyal City of Manila celebrates the

greatest day of the Christian year very devoutly. On foot, and robed

in black, its inhabitants high and low throng the churches and attend

the procession.

All shops are closed, vehicular traffic is suspended, the ensigns

hang at half-mast, the yards of ships are crossed in saltire; not a

sound is heard.

The capital and the whole of the civilised Philippines mark the

crucifixion of our Saviour by two days of devotion, of solemn

calm. Under Spanish rule a stately procession, attended by the highest

and the humblest, filed slowly through the silent streets, the Civil

Government, the Law, the Army, the Navy, the Municipality and the

Religious Orders, being represented by deputations in full dress,

who followed bare-headed the emblems of the faith in the presence of

an immense crowd of natives, who bent the knee and bowed the head in

homage to the crucified Saviour.

I never failed to witness this imposing spectacle when in Manila,

and it was mortifying to me to remember that Good Friday in London

is nothing but a vulgar holiday, and that probably not one person out

of a hundred in its vast population realises in the least degree the

event that solemn fast is intended to commemorate.

The death-like stillness of Good Friday remained unbroken till High

Mass was over on Saturday morning, when the cathedral bells rang out

a joyous peal, soon taken up by the bells of the numerous churches

in the city and all over the provinces.

The ensigns were run up to the staff or peak, the yards were squared,

and royal salutes thundered out over land and sea, whilst clouds of

white smoke enveloped the moss-grown ramparts of the saluting battery,

and the useless, lumbering masts and spars of the flagship. Then

steam-whistles and sirens commenced their hideous din, the great doors

of the houses were thrown open, and hundreds of bare-backed ponies,

with half-naked grooms, issued at full gallop to the sea or river.

Then Manila resumed its every-day life till the next Holy Thursday

came round.

The Inhabitants of the Philippines · 第 19 / 25 章