An early drive--Visit to Churches--The Cathedral--Description
--Reflections--Church of the Binondo Quarter--The Dead Child
--Baptism--Life's Entrances and Exit--Ceremony of taking the
Veil--Poor Maraquita--An Episode--Don Cæsar de Bazan--Interior
of the Convent--Interview with the Lady Superior--Interchange
of compliments--Spanish Courtesy--An admission.
Sunday morning, took an early drive upon one of the beautiful roads that
penetrate the interior of this fruitful island, and returned with a keen
appetite for breakfast; this dispatched, drove with a party to visit the
churches.
Went first within the walls to the Cathedral. Mass was over, and they
were about to close the church. Had an opportunity, however, to obtain a
hasty look at its interior.
It is very spacious and very grand, the roof supported by pillars about
twelve feet in thickness. No galleries.
The principal altar was quite imposing, and upon it, plate of
considerable value was exposed.
There are also other altars, and a number of chapels inclosed.
A full length figure of our Saviour, after His Descent from the Cross,
is extended in a glass case beneath one of the altars, exciting grateful
emotion for that love which caused Him to lay down His life for man, but
not a proper subject, in my opinion, for exhibition.
The divine mission of Christ, its object, His self-humiliation, denials,
struggles, sufferings and sacrifice, cannot be too often presented to
our minds, nor too eloquently told. His Gospel cannot lose by
repetition, and His life should be our grand exemplar! But the image of
the Incarnate Godhead should never be associated with the waxen figure
of a revolting corpse, nor should the hand of the creature, however
skilful, attempt the presentment of the Great Creator. If Christ took
upon Himself to become man, after He had performed His mission, and laid
aside the form which He had assumed in which to perform the work of
eternity, His carnal attributes should be swallowed up in the glory of
His Being, and the mind should be taught to look up from the humiliation
of the grave, and follow, with awe, the hand that rent the vail of the
Temple in twain, up to the mercy seat, whence he ascended to plead for
his murderers!
There was here an altar, on which the representation of a vine, with
clusters of grapes was very elaborately cut, also a statue of an
apostle, in wood, very naturally carved, and a conspicuous object.
Entered another church, outside the walls, in the Binondo Quarter. This
was not so large as the Cathedral, nor as imposing, but it was crowded
with worshippers, principally Indians of the Tagalo tribe. They were in
every posture of devotion, telling their beads, and praying with
apparent fervor. Indeed they appeared very zealous converts.
At the entrance to this church of the Binondo was exposed the corpse of
a child of about seven or eight years. It was fantastically dressed and
laid out upon a litter. To the left of this "_memento mori_" which
appeared to produce but little effect, were quite a number of matrons,
holding very young infants in their arms, awaiting their turn for
baptism; on some of these baby's heads they had placed wigs!
It was a strange sight, and one in which the entrances and the exits of
the stage of life were exhibited--that dead child, flanked by those
newly breathing infants!
Had been told that the ceremony of taking the veil would come off that
afternoon at a convent within the city walls, but the information was
received too late, for, after hastening to the house of our hospitable
friends, with whom we drove at once to the convent, found the ceremony
over. The vicinity of the convent was all astir, and we saw a number of
ladies, and heard some good music from a fine band, which, although the
airs were gay, must, we thought, have had a mournful sound in the ears
of the poor renouncing soul, henceforth to be immured within those
gloomy walls. But no one appeared to care for her, all was life and
gayety without, one would have thought some marriage fête was being
celebrated, that those joy notes sounded for the binding of the holiest
and dearest tie, had he not known their melody jarred upon heart-strings
rudely severed, and ties for ever broken. But she was married, yes,
_married_ to the church! Poor Maraquita, thy fate was melancholy, and
thy story a sad one, but one too often told of the warm-eyed and
passionate maidens of this "land of the sun."
She had loved, her family opposed. Her lover was beneath her in
condition, yet she loved him still the dearer. In these countries, for
a daughter to _think_ of mating without consent of priests and parents,
is sacrilege. She was guilty of it, her proud and haughty mother
had destined Maraquita to be the bride of a wealthy grandee of old
Spain--had disposed of those affections, no longer in Maraquita's power
to give, for they had already been transferred with all the other
treasures of a young and loving heart, to the keeping of a dark-eyed
youth of Manilla. He had been rudely repulsed by her parents, but often
would the cautious twang of his guitar bring her to a midnight
interview. These clandestine meetings were interrupted. Her dark-eyed
lover no longer came, and she was told she would never see him more. A
marriage with the Don was urged, she resisted--the alternative was a
convent! In pity she implored a short delay, and then convinced that her
lover had suffered from her cruel parents' jealousy, gave the vows of
her broken heart to the church. And that music is her requiem, and his
too! For after those vows had been pronounced, and the black veil had
shut out hope for ever, a haggard youth was released from confinement,
of whose few and ill-starred years the turbid waters of the Pasig soon
washed away all trace.
Poor Maraquita! Poor Carlos! I know not whose fate the most to deplore--
"The one to end in madness,
Both in misery."
With the narrator of this sad tale of passion and despair, I dropped a
tear to their memory, thinking how truly the poet of all time has
written--
"The course of true love never did run smooth."
The foregoing was not related at the time, but afterwards, by a young
Spanish gentleman, who had taken some pains to enable us to witness the
ceremony. I had hardly expected to hear a serious story from his lips,
for his appearance was reckless and gay, and I had associated him in my
mind with the character of Don Cæsar de Bazan, as I had seen it
illustrated.
He introduced us further into the convent than I would have ventured
upon my own responsibility--appeared at home with all the priests
towards whom his manner conveyed but little reverence--and inquiring if
we had any desire to see the nuns, went up to an opening in which there
was a revolving frame, and asked for the Lady Superior. The lady mother
soon presented her round and not unhandsome form at a door to the right,
and in choice Italian demanded our business. With much _nonchalance_ Don
C. expressed a desire to pay his respects to the ladies under her
charge, especially to the one just admitted. His coolness somewhat
disconcerted the supreme lady Abbess, to whom such a request had never
before been preferred, I warrant, and her black eyes sparkled with
scarcely a _holy_ fire, as she answered this time in Spanish, and in the
tone of dignity which that language can convey so well, "That the nuns
were in their place, and the new one did not receive company, especially
that of such gay cavaliers," and intimated that in attending to their
duties they set an example which would be well followed by those
cavaliers.
Don Cæsar, his _sang froid_ still retaining its temperature, with the
grave courtesy of a true Spaniard, bowing almost to the floor, told
her, "Heaven was the proper place for angels such as her noble self and
her illustrious daughters," and wishing the whole family a pleasant
journey thither, commended them to God. "Adios!" and the door was closed
a little hastily.
After this interchange of compliments, Don Cæsar took us to his father's
house, within the walls near the convent, where he gave us introductions
to his sisters, cousins, and other ladies, all under the excitement of
the event of the day.
The old gentleman placed, with the usual Spanish compliment, his house,
and all that it contained in our hands. And when I state, that like
Jephtha, he "had a daughter who was passing fair," my sensations can be
imagined, and it may be understood how small a portion of the "Casa,"
with this appurtenance, would have satisfied me.