MANILA

Manila, [122] the capital of the "kingdom of the Phillippines," [123]

in lat. 14° 26' N. and long. 121° 3' East of Greenwich, is situated

on the eastern side of an extensive bay in the western coast of the

island Luzon, or Luconia, as it is sometimes called. It is a captain

general-ship (not a viceroyalty), and archbishopric, and the seat of

the Audiencia, or Supreme Tribunal.

The city forms nearly a sector of a circle, of which the center is a

point formed by the coast and the influence of a small but rapid river,

the Passig, which flowing to the westward, and passing to the north of

the city, discharges the waters of an extensive lake about 30 miles

distant from the town. This river is navigable for vessels of 250

tons for a small distance from its entrance, which is formed by two

fine moles, built by the municipality of the city. On the southern

of these is a small semicircular battery for four guns, and on the

other a light-house. The southern or outer mole is much out of repair.

The constant and rapid current of the river forms a bar at its

entrance, over which there is 10, and at times 11 feet water at spring

tides, in a narrow channel close to the battery.

The city is well fortified on the sea and land faces, but on that

towards the river very indifferently, being only defended by a

long curtain with a few ill-constructed bastions, which from their

diminutive size are rather playthings than bastions. The curtain is

narrow, and confined on the inside, and unfit for guns of calibre;

the buildings within the city overlooking, and even joining the wall

in some places. On the other side of the river, within 200 yards of

this curtain, are a number of stone houses, along the whole length

of its bank; and the bases of these being walls of eight and ten feet

thick of solid masonry, would afford an immediate cover for an enemy,

who might breach the curtain in ten minutes at so short a distance,

and with perfect safety, the fire from some of these taking the whole

of the works on the N. Eastern side in reverse. Indeed its only defence

on this side is the river, [124] the current of which is always rapid.

Over it is a neat but narrow stone bridge of ten arches, which joins

the city at its northern angle to the suburbs. On the city side of

the bridge is a square tower, with an archway pierced through it,

and with embrasures on the top. This is intended as a "tête de pont;"

but it is too small for any effective purpose, and, like the bastions

on this face, resembles a military plaything; and this defect is the

more striking, as the fortifications, from this angle on the land

and sea faces, are remarkably handsome and well proportioned.

At the north-western point of the city, which joins the mole,

is the citadel of Santiago, a clumsy old-fashioned fortification,

separated from the rest of the city by a narrow ditch with a stone

bridge, but joined by the curtains of the bastions. It is incapable

of any respectable defence, except from a semicircular bastion,

which forms the point, and commands the moles and entrance to the

river. It is now used as a state prison and magazine. The convicts

employed in the public works are also lodged in it. This was the

refuge of the unfortunate foreigners who escaped from the massacre

on the 9th of October 1820; and to the honour of the commandant

(Col. Don A. Parreno), and his lady be it recorded, they found there

another home.

The length of the city within the walls is 1,300 yards Spanish, from

N. W. to S. E.; its width 744, and circumference 4,166. The side

towards the river, it has already been remarked, is, from the want

of bastions, and from the encumbered state of the approaches to it,

in a very defective state. The sea and land faces are exactly the

reverse of this, being remarkably clear and strong.

The land face has a double ditch, and an esplanade of five or six

hundred yards in breadth, which towards the river is marshy and

swampy, and utterly unfit for military operations. Towards the sea,

and for some miles along the coast, is an epaulement, [125] thrown

up when in expectation of an attack from the English in 1804. On

this esplanade formerly stood a church, from the tower of which

the English under Sir W. Draper fired into the heart of the city:

[126] it is now razed. There is also a small battery called Charles

the Fourth's, on an elevated spot in the marshy ground; it is about

350 yards from the fortifications and is mostly used as an exercising

battery. Another redoubt of stone stands at the southern point of the

outer ditch, and flanks the sea shore to a considerable distance to

the southward: it also serves to cover the head of the outer ditch,

which is not carried round the sea face, apparently for want of room,

as its crest would nearly approach high water mark in this part.

There are six gates to the city, two on each face: those on the

land side have neat stone bridges over the outer ditch, which are

not mined, and, being of solid masonry, would be found cumbersome

in case of an attack. The inner ones, and those on the sea side,

are of wood or stone pillars with drawbridges. The ditches are wide

and deep, but much encumbered with mud and weeds, from which last

the fortifications also have suffered. The bastions on the sea and

land sides are in many places without embrasures, the guns being

"en barbette." [127] The shore is not very flat, and will perhaps

allow a frigate to lay within gunshot of the ramparts.

Within the walls of the city is the cathedral, the inside of which is

very handsome, though the exterior is destitute of all symmetry, and

seems to have been intended as a contrast to the majestic architecture

of the interior.

The governor's palace resembles a decent barn or warehouse, both

externally and internally. It is large, dirty, and ill distributed,

the basement being used as a prison.

The Cabildo, or Town House, is a handsome building, and the only

one in the country which has any pretensions to symmetry, of which

the architects of the Phillippines take every opportunity of shewing

a sovereign contempt:--so much so, that it is rare to find even the

doors and windows, or the angles of a room, correctly placed and laid

out! These three buildings form three sides of a small square, the

only one in the city, of about 100 yards on each side, the fourth side

being occupied by private houses. In the centre is a handsome pedestal

of reddish marble, on which no statue has yet been placed. [128]

The streets of the city are narrow and dirty; and the middle being

a hollow, in rainy weather forms a continued puddle. They are paved

at the sides with granite from China, the stone in the immediate

neighbourhood of Manila being too soft. The pavement is not in good

repair, and in some streets only occupies one side; the other, which

is generally occupied by a large house, or the wall of a convent,

being heaped up with dirt, rendered solid by long accumulation,

and forming a hill against the wall, the receptacle of.... This is

not confined to bye-lanes, but is most common in the great square

(Plaza Constitucional) in front of the cathedral! [129]

The city and suburbs are well lighted, and the European quarters of

the last are cleaner than the city.

The convents, which occupy nearly one third of the whole area of the

city! are more distinguished for their size and massy architecture,

than for their beauty. The church and convent of St. Augustine,

and that of the Jesuits (now fast falling to decay), are, however,

neat and well built. That of San Domingo is the most extensive.

The hospital of St. John of God, a military order of Knights

Hospitallers, is extensive, but for want of funds, is but indifferently

entertained. [130] There is also a university (St. Thomas), two

colleges for the instruction of Indians and mestizos, and three

convents of nuns, who receive girls to educate. There are also two

schools for girls, both endowed by the piety of single individuals;

the first of these being a Spanish lady, who came out from Spain for

the express purpose of devoting herself to the education of Indian

and mestizo girls! The other is that of a mestizo woman of the village

of Binondo, a suburb of Manila.

There are some large houses, but they are generally ill-built and

inconvenient, the rooms being often excessively large, and always

badly laid out. The ground floor is used for warehouses, stables,

&c. and always includes a large court-yard. The first floor only

is inhabited. The architecture of the lower part is very massive,

being often walls of solid masonry of eight or ten feet thick, with

large arches from side to side, and connected with massy beams. At

the height of the floor, these walls are discontinued, and on them are

raised at distances clumsy pillars of brickwork, or at times of wood

(which is seldom straight). These pillars are connected at the top by

large joists in all directions, having wooden forelocks driven through

them close to the pillars; and on this framework are laid the rafters

for the tiled roof; the interstices of the pillars, and divisions of

the rooms, being filled up with brick and plaster. The ends of the

floor timbers being allowed to project over the walls, form a gallery

of eight or ten feet in width along the front of the house, and round

it when insulated: this gallery is boarded for about four feet in

height in front, and then filled up with sliding windows, the small

panes of which are filled with plates of thin mother-of-pearl shell,

[131] forming one continued window, like the front of a hot-house. The

communication to this gallery is by wide folding doors from the rooms,

a large one having four or five, which thus admit light and air into

the apartments; but the shell windows, when closed against the sun,

transmit an intolerable heat, and the houses are not in general cool

ones. The galleries are often used as dressing, and even as bathing

rooms; and as they overhang the streets, the passenger is often

sprinkled from them, in consequence of this dirty practice.

The exterior of these galleries being painted a curious mixture of

tawdry colours, such as black, grey, blue, yellow, and red, in panels,

flowers, ovals, &c. on white or grey grounds, with their shell windows

above, and the grated ones of the godowns below, gives a tawdry and

unsociable appearance to the houses. The better sort, and those newly

built, have venetians, which greatly improves both their appearance

and comfort.

All the houses have a cross, and some two or three, on the roof or

gables, as a preservative against evil spirits, [132] and lightning;

and though few years pass without many accidents from the latter, the

crosses are still preserved in preference to conductors, even in the

magazines, not one of which is provided with this useful preservative,

though that of the citadel contains many thousand pounds of powder.

The suburbs of the city are extensive, and contain many stone houses,

in which some of the principal inhabitants reside, and generally all

the foreigners, the vicinity of the river, and its many branches,

rendering it more convenient for business.

The custom-house is a plain octagonal building of considerable

extent, and contains a fine courtyard surrounded with an arcade,

and extensive magazines for warehousing goods. These, from neglect

and the ravages of the white ants, are fast falling to decay, and

in a few years the building will be a ruin; it is now very dirty

and ill-arranged, the entrance not being convenient to the river,

and wanting quays and a crane. The officers of this establishment

are in general attentive, civil, and indulgent to foreigners, though

the length of their siestas does not contribute to the dispatch of

business. There is no interpreter attached to this establishment,

nor is the king responsible for goods or money deposited in it,

this being solely at the merchant's risk.

The "Calzada," or public drive, is a broad neat carriage road,

leading round the outer face of the outer ditch, from the bridge,

round the land and sea faces of the fortifications to the river. It

is planted with trees, and forms a good drive, having roads leading

from it into the country, whose rich and cultivated appearance gives

the stranger a high opinion of its fertility. The roads are however

much in want of waterings in dry weather, the dust of the principal

one being at these times insufferable.

On the road leading to the village of Santa Anna is the cemetery,

[133] a building well worth the attention of strangers both as a

novelty in itself, and as in some measure redeeming the character of

the architecture of this country from its general want of interest

and symmetry.

It consists of two concentric circular walls, about ten feet apart

and fourteen in height, both surmounted with a balustrade. The inner

wall forms the periphery of a circle of about 250 feet in diameter,

and is pierced with three rows of small semicircular arches, which

form the entrances to as many arched, oven-like receptacles, formed

in the space betwixt the walls, and of a size just calculated to

receive a coffin, to which purpose they are appropriated.

There are from two to three hundred of those receptacles; and when

occupied, the entrances are walled up. The plot of ground in the centre

is crossed by two broad stone walks, the borders of which are planted

with flowers and shrubs; the remaining space is used for interments.

On the further side from the gate, and joined to the wall, is a

handsome chapel of an oval shape, the roof being a dome. The interior

of this chapel is remarkably neat; and the altar, which is white, and

gold, is particularly so, from its elegant simplicity and chasteness

of ornament: on each side of it are repositories for the remains of

governors and bishops.

Without are flights of steps leading to the terrace joining the walls,

and two passages leading to a smaller building at the back of the

chapel, and in the same style as the large one. This is called

the "Angelorio" and a recess in it the "Ossario." The first is

appropriated to the remains of infants and children, and the last to

the bones which may in time accumulate. This purpose suggests the only

objection which is apt to arise in viewing the building, which is,

that, as in the course of time the receptacles must be filled up,

those which have been first occupied must be opened, and the bones

displaced to make room for others. To many this is a most revolting

objection, and would appear to indicate a dulness of feeling and

want of sentiment, which, though far from being uncommon at Manila,

by no means accords with the spirit and style in which the building

is executed, or with the reflections it is apt to excite.

There are no other buildings in the neighbourhood of Manila worthy

the attention of the stranger. The appearance of the surrounding

country is rich, and in some parts highly cultivated; but an air

of neglect and dilapidation is visible throughout, which strikingly

marks the apathetic character of both classes of its inhabitants. It

is remarkable, too, that the neatness of the native villages, and

the apparent comfort of the people, increase in direct proportion

to their distance from the capital, as the influence of government

is less felt, and the Indian, knowing no other authority than the

"Padre," retains more of his original character.

The vices of Spanish colonies have been often the theme of those

who have visited them; and when speaking of Manila, they have seldom

exaggerated. [134] It has been observed, and with some justice, that

"to know the education of the children, is to know the character

of a people." If this be true, but little can be said for Manila,

where this highly important duty is more neglected than perhaps in

any civilized part of the globe.

The majority of the young are abandoned entirely to the Indian

servants, who soon familiarize them with all that is vicious. They

know but little of their parents more than as the master and mistress

of the house, whose hand they must kiss, kneeling, every morning and

evening. By five years of age they smoke cigars, ride out at night by

moonlight, abuse the Indians, and not unfrequently their parents. At 12

they are debauched. At 18 or 20 they marry, and then form the citizens

for which such an education has prepared them. They are seldom or

ever taught any useful employment or profession. This the majority of

them would look upon with the utmost contempt: "Soy gracias a Dios,

de sangre noble," [135] is their reply to any advice of this kind;

and this is a passport to a cadetship in the army or colonial marine;

which, though attained at the age of 12 or 13, seldom finds them with

any vice unlearnt. The girls are educated nearly in the same manner,

as far as to the acquirement of any useful knowledge. They are sent

to the nunneries till 12 or 14 years, and from thence married. Of

household duties they know little or nothing, and of any thing else,

still less.

The manner of living is nearly as follows: The gentlemen rise about

six or seven, and take chocolate. They then lounge about in their

shirts and trowsers (the former often outside of the latter) till

nine, when they dress, and dictate a letter or two to their writers

(they rarely write for themselves); at 10 they breakfast, after which

they go out in their carriages to transact any business they may have

in town. At 12 or 1 they dine, and from table retire to sleep the

siesta, till 4--at 4 chocolate [136]--at 5 drive on the esplanade,

or into the country, till 6 or 7, when visits are received or made

till 10 or 11; supper is served hot at this hour, and at midnight they

retire to sleep. Some of these evening parties (tertulias) are lively

and pleasant, but at most of them gambling is carried on with great

avidity. Both ladies and gentlemen smoke at these, as well as at balls

and other assemblies. They drink but little wine or strong liquors,

their ordinary beverage being water, which is handed round in large

glasses with sweetmeats, which are always eaten before drinking water.

Society in Manila is at a very low standard: in a community,

the majority of which are men of inferior classes, no very select

assemblies can be expected; and those whose character and education

might have given another tone to it, are here, from necessity,

amalgamated with the crowd. There are in fact only a few houses where

a respectable society can be met with; at others the stranger is

disgusted with a coarseness of manners, and with unfeeling or often

excessively indelicate conversation, and an ignorance of the most

common branches of knowledge that must be heard to be credited.

Hence, exclusive of some of the civil and military officers of

government, the agents of the Company, and a few respectable

merchants and priests, the remainder are but little qualified

for select society, and there exists amongst them a want of moral

discrimination, a toleration of publicly known vicious characters of

both sexes, that is not a little embarrassing to the stranger. This

is more particularly the case with the female part of society,

with many of whom "era tentada la pobrecita por el demonio!" [i.e.,

"The poor woman was tempted by the devil"] appears to be a salvo,

both at confession and in society, for failings which in Europe

inevitably and justly entail expulsion from it.

Such is the society of Manila, and such its manners: from them the

general character of those who compose it may be easily imagined; they

are polite in offering every thing--but do but little or nothing:--they

affect great decency of manners and a religious deportment in all their

actions; but any thing but this is to be found in the conduct of the

generality; and a common remark amongst themselves, "Esta no es tierra

para un hombre de bien," [137] is worth a chapter on the subject.

This may be thought an exaggerated, or at least a highly coloured

picture, and it is natural that it should be so. A recital of

a well-known custom may add an evidence to these assertions,

premising that it is not the only, though the most prominent one

that attracts the notice of the stranger: I allude to that of

promiscuous bathing. This shamefully indecent custom could exist

in no country where the common decencies of life were held in due

consideration. Imagine the members of a large family, the father,

mother, children, young and old, any visitors who may be in the house

and often part of another family, all assembled in a large bath, built

out on the river with bamboos, the women with only a petticoat and

a gauze chemise, and the men with a thin pair of drawers, and this

continuing for one or two hours. This is a Manila bath, to which it is

no uncommon thing for an acquaintance to be asked, and in which 4/5ths

of all the families in Manila indulge. It may be said in extenuation,

that from its frequency no evil arises from it: this may be the case,

but it is not the less indecent on that account.

The policy of Spain towards the Phillippines appears to have been

to preserve them--no matter how, as it afforded occasion to remark,

"that the sun never set in the dominions of his Catholic majesty." Its

neglect of so rich a colony can only be supposed to arise from

ignorance, or from a mistaken determination to sacrifice it to the

Americans: from which, this is not the place to enquire. It will

suffice to observe, that in Spain it has been at all times considered

as the "ne plus ultra" of expatriation: a natural consequence of this

was the state of society which has been shewn to exist. [138] Nor is

this idea confined to Spain alone: Mr. Whitbread, when addressing the

House on the tyranny of Ferdinand to the liberal party, concluded in

the following manner: "Some have perished on the scaffold--others in

the dungeons of Ceuta--and others, still more horrible to relate,

have been sent to linger out their days amidst the savages of the

Phillippine islands!"

The islands have suffered too from another cause, the adoption of the

Spanish language as that of the courts of justice, &c. &c. and the

consequent neglect of that of the natives amongst the higher classes

of Europeans. Hence they are ignorant of the feelings and prejudices

of the people they govern, and who look to them for example, or at

least for precept; and not a little of the extensive influence of the

priesthood may be owing to their intimate knowledge of the language,

and the mutual confidence which results from this. The Indian,

meanwhile, has not neglected the language of his masters; and as

from the Indian writers, who transact all business, every thing is

known, it follows, while both mistakenly consider their interests

as separate, the natives and creoles have much the advantage. Both

despise and detest the Spaniards, the majority of whom, divided into

factions of Andaluces, Montaneses, Serviles, and Liberales, [139]

abuse each other cordially; while the few who know and feel that

there are other and higher duties owing from them to the Indian, must

look on with regret, or complain to be disregarded or insulted. The

disaffected, and those who have nothing to fear and every thing to

hope from a popular commotion, do not lose sight of these advantages;

and are rapidly spreading doctrines gleaned from the works of Voltaire,

Rousseau, Tom Paine; &c. and stimulating them with songs of liberty and

equality; as unfit for them as they were for the creoles and slaves

of St. Domingo, to whose fate the Phillippines are fast verging, and

from which nothing but some extraordinary event can save them. [140]

The 9th of October, 1820, has given a fatal blow to the power of Spain

in this country; for much as has been written and said on the subject,

it is questionable whether there exists any country of black men,

where the white is not looked upon as an intruder; and "the country

belongs to the Indians," "La tierra es de los Yndios," is a common

remark, even amongst the lower orders. Moral or political injustice

seldom fails to recoil on the head of the oppressor; and when the

government of Manila allowed an indiscriminate massacre and pillage

of European foreigners by the mob, and by their shameful lenity gave

a tacit sanction to it, they taught the Indian, that he might with

equal impunity attack them. The plunder then obtained is a premium

to future violence; and perhaps the day is not far distant, when they

may bitterly repent the hour in which they allowed the Indian to feel

his physical superiority.

This he is now hourly taught, and the doctrine of "El Pueblo Soberano"

[i.e., "the sovereign people"] is hourly echoed in his ears by

those who are least capable of managing him when once aroused. "La

Constitucion" is made the pretext for every thing subversive of good

order and due restraint; the convulsed state of Spain, the imbecile

indecision of the present government, and the recent revolution of

Mexico (another example to the many already before them), will not

a little tend to accelerate the crisis to which, it is to be feared,

they are fast approaching; a crisis to which every political body must

be subject, who would govern an ignorant people by laws made for an

enlightened one, and who forget in their speculations, that though

the civil institutions of a people may be changed in a few hours,

their moral character cannot; and on it and its influence throughout

the circle of social intercourse depends the portion of real freedom

which a people can enjoy.