The supreme head of the administration was a Governor-General or Captain-General of the Philippines. The British Colonial Office has preserved this Spanish title in Jamaica where the supreme authority is still styled Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief.

In recent years no civilian has been Governor-General of the Philippines, the appointment being given or sold to a Lieutenant-General, though in 1883 a Field-Marshal was sent out. But in 1874 Rear-Admiral Malcampo obtained the post, and a very weak and foolish Governor-General he turned out to be.

In former times military men did not have a monopoly of such posts, and civilians, judges, priests, and bishops have held this appointment.

The Governor-General had great powers. Practically, if not legally, he had the power of life and death, for he could proclaim martial law and try offenders by court-martial. He was ex officio president of every corporation or commission, and he could expel from the Islands any person, whether Spaniard, native, or foreigner, by a decree declaring that his presence was inconvenient.

The foulest blot upon the Spanish Administration in all her former colonies was undoubtedly the thorough venality of her infamous Courts of Justice. Unfortunately, amongst the heterogeneous population of the Philippines, a low standard of morality prevails and has prevailed from the earliest times. The natives at the time of the conquest were partly civilised, so far as building houses and cultivating their lands by slave labour is concerned. But notwithstanding the assertions of the Filipinos, the late Dr. Rizal and others, a study of the ancient authors demonstrates that they were sunk in ignorance and superstition, and that their customs were those of semi-savages. When they came under the rule of the Spaniards, they might have made great advances if the administration of the laws had been confided to persons of honour capable of interpreting that wise code, the “Laws of the Indies,” in the noble and Christian spirit which had inspired their makers.

But what class of man was it that the Spaniards appointed to this office?

Thomas de Comyn, p. 134, says: “It is quite common to see a barber or footman of a governor, a sailor or a deserter, transformed into an Alcalde-Mayor, Sub-delegate, and War Captain of a populous province, without other counsel than his own rude intelligence (understanding) nor other guide than his passions.”

What could be expected from such men as these, living in such an atmosphere? And if some solitary alcalde might cherish in his heart some spark of honour, some lingering love of justice, there were two elements in [25]the country to extinguish that spark, to smother that feeling.

Woe betide the alcalde who would decide a case, whatever its merits, adversely to any one of the religious orders. I personally knew an alcalde who (at a great price) had obtained the government of the province of Batangas, from whence his immediate predecessor, also well-known to me, had retired with a large fortune, but leaving everybody contented so far as could be seen. He had kept on good terms with the priests. His successor unfortunately forgot this cardinal rule and allowed himself to be identified with some anti-clerical Spaniards.

Every kind of trouble fell upon that man, and finally he was recalled to Manila and received a severe reprimand from General Primo de Rivera, who was said to have received $12,000 for turning him out.

He was removed from wealthy Batangas and sent to the fever-stricken capital of Tayabas, a wretchedly poor Government, affording few opportunities for peculation. He escaped with his life, but his wife, a very charming Spanish lady, succumbed to the malaria. Similar instances of the results of being, or being thought to be, an anti-clerical, will occur to old residents in the Philippines. The arm of the Church was long and its hand was a heavy one.

The second influence I referred to is the presence of the heathen Chinee in the islands. To a Chinaman the idea that a judge should take bribes seems as natural a thing as that a duck should take to the water. And yet the Chinaman will not, unless he knows he is on the right track, brutally push his bribe under the judge’s nose. Either he or one of his countrymen will from the judge’s arrival have rendered him good service. Does the judge want a gardener or cook? Ah-sin soon provides an excellent one who never asks for his wages. Have some visitors arrived at the Alcaldia Ah-sin sends in a dozen chickens, a turkey, and the best fruits. Is it the judge’s name-day? The wily Celestial presents a few cases of wine and boxes of fine cigars. Is the roof of the Alcaldia leaking—a couple of Chinese carpenters will set it right without sending a bill for it. Then, having prepared the way, should Ah-sin be summoned before the alcalde, he may confidently hope that his patron will not hurriedly give judgment against him, and that he will probably get a full opportunity to present substantial reasons why the suit should be decided in his [26]favour. In fact, the practice of the alcalde’s courts was only a shade better than that of the Chinese Yamens, where the different cases are put up to auction amongst the magistrates and knocked down to the highest bidders, who then proceed on a course of extortion, by arrest and by the torture of witnesses, to make all they can out of them.

In an alcalde’s court, there would be several mestizo or native writers or auxiliaries. Some of them were what is called meritórios, that is, unpaid volunteers. Of course, they expect to receive gratuities from the suitors and would take care to mislay their documents if they were neglected. Sometimes the alcalde was so lazy that he left the whole matter in the hands of his subordinates and signed whatever they laid before him. I have been a witness of this, and have even remonstrated with a judge for so doing. He, however, said he had the greatest confidence in his subordinates and that they dare not deceive him.

Bad as the alcalde’s courts were, I think that the culminating point of corruption was the Audiencia of Manila. Escribano, abogado, júez, auditor, fiscál, vied with each other in showing that to them, honour and dignity were mere empty words. They set the vilest examples to the mestizos and natives, and, unfortunately, these have been only too apt pupils, and having little to lose, were often ready to go one better than the Spaniards, who after all had to keep up appearances. I cannot adequately express the loathing I feel for all this tribe. I look upon a highwayman as a gentleman compared to them, for he does risk his life, and you may get a shot at him, but these wretches ruin you in perfect safety.

They dress their wives, they nourish their children, upon the reward of roguery, the price of perjury, the fruits of forgery, the wages of some wicked judgment.

What can be expected of the spawn of these reptiles, what but by the process of evolution to be more envenomed than their progenitors? Is there not amongst all the multitudinous Philippines some desert island where the people trained in the Spanish courts and all their breed could be deported, where they might set up a court, and bring actions against each other and cheat and lie and forge till they die?

What a Godsend for the Philippines were this possible, if besides getting rid of the Spanish judges, they could now [27]get rid of their aiders and abettors, their apt pupils and would-be successors.

Bribery is a fine art, and there were those in Manila who were well versed in its intricacies. We heard one day of a decree by a judge against the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation. Club gossip asserted that the judge who issued the decree had lost some hundreds of dollars at the gambling table of the Casino the night before, and that the artistic corrupter had called on him in the morning with the means to pay the debt of honour and to try his luck again. The judge was known not to have the means of paying, yet he paid and simultaneously issued his decree. Old Manila hands drew their inference.

The record of these courts from the earliest times is one long-continued infamy. Thank God that is over and a new chapter has begun. I rejoice exceedingly that their sins have at last overtaken them, and I recognise that, though

Owing to the demoralisation of the mestizo and native lawyers by these vile examples, it will be very difficult to break the traditions of venality and to find men worthy to occupy the bench.

These courts were not only corrupt, but they were inept. At a time when brigandage prevailed and many notorious criminals were apprehended almost red-handed, convictions could not be got, and the bandits were liberated on various pretexts.

So great was the scandal that Moriones issued a decree that all persons accused of gang-robbery should be tried by a military tribunal. And he appointed a permanent court-martial for this purpose, to the great disgust of all the lawyer element. These courts were abolished some years later after his return to Spain; then the Guardia Civil made their own arrangements, and the mortality amongst bandits was excessive. When some well-known robber was by any chance taken alive, he always, so they said, tried to escape by running away from his captors, and this obliged them to fire upon him. They never missed on these occasions, and it was thought that the range never exceeded ten paces and was often less.

However necessary this military action may be, it is, [28]undoubtedly liable to abuse, and the power of life and death is a great one to put in the hands of a junior officer or non-commissioned officer of police. The Guardia Civil, an armed force with Spanish officers and native soldiers, was organised in 1867, and I must say that I looked upon it as an excellent institution, the terror of evil-doers and a protection to all law-abiding people. My native friends, however, are of a different opinion. They accuse the Guardia Civil, both Spaniards and natives, of behaving in an arbitrary and cruel manner, and with practising extortion upon defenceless natives. They are accused of torturing witnesses to extort evidence, and this charge was no doubt true in many cases.

On the other hand, the bandits or tulisanes were exterminated by this corps of picked men, and security to life and property was assured. At the formation of this corps the officers and men were very carefully selected. The Governor-General himself examined the records of every officer, and only Spanish gentlemen of the highest character were appointed. Similarly the soldiers were natives who had served their time in the army without having a crime noted against them. But in later years this precaution was relaxed, and colonels of regiments were allowed to dump their rubbish into this corps.

I knew of a case where a Filipino with Irish blood in him was posted as a lieutenant to this corps and behaved most abominably. I am glad to say, however, that he was sent out of the islands. This was only another instance of the fact that whatever the natives have to complain of the Spaniards, the mestizos, and their own rich people, treat them and have always treated them far worse.

Both officers and men were well paid and were dressed in a very smart and neat uniform, well suited to the climate, which they kept spick and span whatever service they were on. They were armed with Remington rifles and bayonets, and in addition carried a heavy chopping knife. They were posted at all the chief towns of Luzon and in some of the Visayas Islands. The greatest crime a native could commit was to kill a Guardia Civil, and such a matter never came before a Civil Court. If the slayer by any chance was not killed on the spot, he would probably be shot at sight. If apprehended, he would be tried by a court-martial composed of officers of the Guardia Civil, and, needless to say, there would be no monkeying with the [29]verdict nor with the sentence, which would be promptly carried out.

Even to resist the Guardia Civil was so great a crime that the sentence of a court-martial in such a case was penal servitude for life (Cadéna Perpétua).

How surprised a London rough would be at this severity after being accustomed to expiate the most brutal assaults upon the police by a fine of a few shillings.

To sum up the Guardia Civil, I may say that their practice was comprised in five memorable words, addressed to a similar corps by Mr. A. J. Balfour in his energetic days, a most sensible order, that he may well be proud of: “Do not hesitate to shoot.”

Amongst other duties of the Guardia Civil in bygone years was the making of periodical expeditions against the remontados and the hill tribes, officially designated Talas, or cuttings down.

At certain favourable seasons of the year, especially before harvest time, the Guardias, accompanied by some Cuadrilleros, and on important occasions by a company of native infantry, marched up into the more accessible hills.

The hill-men obstructed the tracks in the most difficult places by cutting down trees and making abattis.

They also placed sharp bamboo spikes carefully concealed in the earth or mud of the footpaths, and these, if trodden on, inflicted most dangerous wounds that were apt to gangrene. Sometimes if they had much at stake, the hill-men or outlaws would venture an ambuscade, and hurl their javelins or send a flight of arrows amongst their enemies.

But even the boldest races rarely came to close quarters, for their weapons were no match against rifles and bayonets. So, led by their spies, the Spanish forces laboured upwards, and on arriving at the hamlets of the mountaineers or outlaws they burnt down the rude huts, reaped the crops, taking away what they could and burning the remainder.

They cut down every fruit tree and took special care to destroy every tobacco plant. They then retired, leaving a scene of devastation behind them.

If any of the hill-men fell into their hands their fate depended upon whether there were any murders to avenge or upon the humanity of the officer in command. This wanton destruction was committed chiefly in the interests of the tobacco monopoly, but also in order to force the hillmen [30]to come down and reside in the towns. It had, however, an entirely contrary effect, for the savages either retired into more inaccessible regions, or perhaps abandoned cultivation and lived a roving, marauding life like the Itetapanes and Catubanganes.

Since the abolition of the tobacco monopoly the Talas have been less frequent, and there was a feeling amongst the authorities that these cruel and demoralising expeditions should be discontinued, unless in cases where the hill-men had given great provocation.

The Spaniards are, of course, not the only nation to make these forays. In the last campaign against the Afridis the British troops were employed, under orders, to blow up the houses, break the mill-stones, and cut down the trees of the enemy, not even sparing the shade trees round a mosque. It was probably the only way to inflict punishment on the Afridis.

The worst feature is that in all such cases a crop of bitter hatred is sown in the hearts of the sufferers, which matures later on, and which is handed down from one generation to another. [31]

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 [32]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 employé 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 Spanish Colonial system was based upon the simple and well-recognised principle of rewarding political services to the Government in power, by the pillage of a colony.

Sometimes special circumstances rendered it necessary for the Government to send out the man best fitted to cope with a critical situation, but in normal times the good old corrupt plan was followed.

The appointment of a Governor-General would be arranged by the Prime Minister and submitted for the approval of the monarch. The Colonial Minister, like the other subordinate ministers, counted for little in a Cabinet presided over by such commanding personalities as Cánovas, or Sagásta. They were, in fact, mere heads of departments.

In another chapter I have remarked that it was generally believed that General Weyler purchased his appointment as Governor-General of the Philippines, by a cash payment and an annual subsidy.

There were, however, certain officials whom it would be unjust to class with those who practically had to rob for their living, because they were subject to dismissal at any moment. These unfortunates knew perfectly well that integrity and ability would not ensure them a single day’s grace. Whenever the man in power wanted that place for his cousin or his uncle, out they would go. Similarly, if [49]they had any interest, misbehaviour would not lose the appointment. Considering the system, the wonder was that some of them were honest, not that most of them were thieves.

Amongst those who had fixed appointments were the Inspector-General of Forests and his assistants. Every British and American resident in, or visitor to Manila, will remember a Catalan gentleman, Don Sebastian Vidal y Soler and his charming wife Dona Ella Paoli de Vidal, a lady from Philadelphia. Vidal was a man of great learning and equal modesty, a man of the strictest honour, kind-hearted and charitable in the extreme. He was well-known in America, in London, Paris, and Amsterdam, and wherever botanists congregate. His death in 1890 was universally regretted.

In the same branch of the service there was another gentleman whom I must name. Don José Sainz de Baranda, at one time acting Colonial Secretary, is a most courteous gentleman, whose high character and marked ability were well worthy of the confidence reposed in him by General Terrero. Any country might be proud to own Señor Sainz de Baranda. For my part I preserve the most agreeable remembrances of these two friends.

In the Department of Public Works there were men of considerable attainments as engineers—Don Eduardo Lopez Navarro, author of the project for the new harbour; Don Genaro Palacios, who designed and carried out the waterworks and designed the Church of Saint Sebastian, in both of which works I took part; and Señor Brockman, who constructed several lighthouses in different parts of the Archipelago. I feel bound to say that so far as my knowledge went, there was no corruption or underhand work in either the Inspection of Forests or the Public Works.

As to the patronage of other civil offices I have had the procedure explained to me by a Spaniard well up in the subject, and I give an imaginary instance to illustrate the system.

When a political party came into power and the question of forming the Cabinet was being debated, Señor M——, a leader of a group of deputies, might say, “I renounce the honour of entering the Cabinet, and instead will take the Presidency of the Chamber and the right to appoint the Collector of Customs at Havana, the Intendant General of Hacienda at Manila, and the Governor of [50]Batangas, with a dozen second and third class governorships or judgeships.”

If this was agreed to, perhaps, after some haggling, Señor M—— distributed the nominations to the lower appointments amongst his supporters, who disposed of them for their own advantage.

The nominations to the higher offices remained the absolute private property of Señor M——, and he proceeded to pick out men up to the job, to undertake the appointments. Some of them paid him large sums in cash, and others entered into contracts binding themselves to remit him monthly a large proportion of their emoluments and pickings. In some cases it was stipulated that if a single payment was in default, the unfortunate employé would be instantly dismissed. I have personally known of this condition. Those he nominated referred to him as their padrino or godfather.

The actual holders of the offices referred to would then be summarily dismissed, however well they might have behaved whilst serving, and the new horde would be installed in their places and would use every means to fill their pockets and to pay their padrino.

Complaints against them were not likely to lead to their removal, for they were protected in Madrid by the powerful political interest of their padrino. If they kept within the criminal law, they had little to fear, however greedy they might be.

Some of the governors and other officials had the talent of filling their pockets without making enemies. I have already referred to a Governor of Batangas, as eminent in this line. It must not be supposed that the illicit gains of the officials were extorted from the individual native. They were principally drawn from the fallos, or local tax in redemption of polos or personal service. This money ought to have been employed in repairing roads, bridges, and public buildings. But as nearly the whole was diverted into the pockets of the officials and their padrinos, the roads became impassable in the wet season, the bridges, if of wood, rotted, if of stone, were thrown down by the earthquakes or carried away by floods, whilst the tribunales (town halls), fell into decay. I have known cases where a planter has been unable for months to send his sugar down to the port for shipment, as it was absolutely impossible for carts to pass along the road in the wet season. In a [51]wealthy and populous province like Batangas, the fallos were sufficient to have paved all the main roads in the province with granite and to have bridged every stream.

I may mention here a characteristic trait of Spanish administration. When a river-bridge fell down, they not only did not repair or renew it, but they put up to auction the monopoly of ferrying vehicles and passengers across the stream. The purchaser of the right fastened a rattan across the river and provided a couple of canoes with a platform of cane laid over them, which served to ferry vehicles across by means of the rope; one or two at a time at a rather heavy charge. This truly Spanish method provided a revenue for the Administration, or pickings for an official, instead of requiring an outlay for a new bridge.

Still, the natives, never having known anything better, supported these drawbacks with remarkable equanimity. They were left very much to themselves, and were not interfered with nor worried. The army was small and the conscription did not press heavily upon them.

They lived under the “Leyes de Indias” (may their makers have found favour with God), a code of laws deserving of the greatest praise for wisdom and humanity. They protected the native against extortion, constituting him a perpetual minor as against the usurer. He could not be sued for more than five dollars. Compare this wise disposition with what has been going on in India ever since the British Government has administered it, where the principal occupation of the lower courts is to decree the foreclosure of mortgages on the ryot’s patches of land at the suit of the village usurer. The result has been that in some provinces the small landowner class who furnished fighting men for the Indian Army has almost disappeared. It is only now in 1900 that something is proposed to be done to remedy this evil, and knowing my countrymen, I quite expect some weak-kneed compromise will be arrived at.

The “Leyes de Indias” conferred upon the native the perpetual usufruct of any land that he kept under cultivation; and this right descended from father to son.

As a result of these laws, most of the arable land in Luzon, Cebú, and some other islands belongs to the natives to this day, although many of them have no other title than possession. The natives also had the privilege of cutting [52]timber in the forests for house-building or repairing, or for making a canoe free of dues. They could also cut bamboos for their fences or roofs and collect firewood.

These privileges were restricted to natives, and were not extended to Spaniards or Chinese. The taxes paid by the natives were light and they could live and thrive.

Had these wise and admirable laws been carried out in the spirit in which they were made, the Philippines might have been Spanish to this day and the natives would have had little to complain of.

The Philippines were for nearly three centuries after their discovery by the Spaniards a mere dependency of Mexico, communication being kept up by an annual galleon or sometimes two sailing between Acapulco and Manila through the Strait of San Bernardino. The long and tedious voyage deterred all but priests and officials from proceeding to the Philippines.

When this route was given up, which happened some ten years before the Independence of Mexico, which was proclaimed in 1820, communication with the Peninsula was by sailing vessels via the Cape of Good Hope. That was a voyage that would not be lightly undertaken either going or returning. Spaniards who then came to the Archipelago often stayed there for the rest of their lives.

The opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 and the establishment of a line of steamers bringing Manila within thirty days of Barcelona was the most important event in the history of the Philippines since the conquest, and it had the gravest consequences. It greatly stimulated the trade of the Philippines, but it enormously increased the number of Spaniards in the Islands. Hordes of hungry-looking Iberians arrived by every steamer with nominations to posts for which most of them possessed no qualification. It seemed as if all the loafers of the Puerta del Sol and the Calle de Alcalá were to be dumped in the Philippines and fed by the Treasury.

Places had to be found for them, and a bureaucratic administration partly copied from French practice, was rapidly substituted for the old paternal régime. New departments were organised or the old ones greatly extended. Far more money was spent on the salaries of engineers and assistant-engineers than on public works. The salaries of the officials of the Woods and Forests exceeded the revenue derived from dues on timber cut in [53]the Crown forests, and their regulations seriously interfered with the privileges of the natives previously mentioned, and caused great discontent. The salaries of the Inspectors of Mines were almost a useless expense, for there was no revenue derived from mines, in fact there were no mines, only placers and washings. A medical service was organised at great cost and to little advantage. Doctors were appointed to reside at the hot springs, and one could not take a bath there without paying a fee. Model farms and Schools of Agriculture were started, to find places for more Spaniards, for the officials received their salaries, but no funds were forthcoming for material or establishment.

In 1886 there took place the separation of the executive and the judicial functions, and eighteen civil governors were appointed to the principal provinces. Later on, eighteen judges of first instance were nominated to these same provinces. After centuries of rule, the Alcaldes Mayores were abolished.

Then came a period when certain bureaucrats in Madrid conceived what they thought a vast and patriotic idea. They founded a school of politicians who called themselves Asimilistas. Their grand idea was to assimilate the administration of the Philippines to that of the Mother Country. They thought it wise to assimilate the institutions of a tropical dependency with eight millions of native inhabitants, of whom one-sixth part were independent heathen or Mahometans, to the gradually evolved institutions of Old Spain.

By way of a commencement they began to speak and write of the Philippines as “that beautiful province of Spain.” The Philippine army had always been distinct from the Peninsular army, but now by a paper reform it was embodied in it, and the regiments were re-numbered, the 1st Visayas Regiment becoming the 74th, etc. This was considered to be a strong link to bind together the Mother Country and the Colony.

The extra expense of these crowds of employés and of some expeditions to Mindanao and Joló was very heavy, accordingly every year saw some new and oppressive tax. In 1883 the “Tributo,” or tribute that had been paid by the natives since the conquest, was replaced by a tax on the Cédula Personal, or document of identity, and this was paid by all adults of both sexes, whether Spaniards, [54]foreigners, or half-castes. In the Appendix will be found a facsimile of my cédula.

The Customs duties were several times raised, sometimes without much notice. A tax on all trades and professions, on horses and carriages, a heavy port tax, a vexatious tax on all animals slaughtered, even down to a sucking pig, taxes on the hand-looms used by the women in their spare time, taxes on sugar-mills, rice-mills, on boats and lighters, and on houses; all these and many more were collected.

There were also serious agrarian disputes between the Dominicans, the Augustinians, and the tenants on their estates, owing to excessive rents demanded by the friars. All these circumstances brought about a great change in the relations between the Spaniards and the natives. Whereas formerly the wealthy native kept open house on feast days, and received with pleasure the visits of Spaniards, generally elderly men used to the country and speaking the language of the people, he now found his house invaded by a crowd of young officials new to the country and its ways, who fell on the eatables like a swarm of famishing locusts, and soon devoured the turkeys and hams and other good things he had provided to entertain his friends. Besides, his women-folk would probably not be treated by the new-comers with the courtesy and consideration they had been used to.

An estrangement gradually made itself felt, and increased year by year, in direct proportion to the influx of Spaniards. Not one in a hundred of these did any useful work or added in any way to the wealth of the community. They were the drones of the hive, and were in fact directly harmful, for they had to be supported from the Treasury, and they irritated the natives by their illegal exactions and overbearing conduct whenever they came in contact with them.

Still year after year passed without disturbances. From 1877 to 1892, whilst I was in the country, I can testify that almost perfect order reigned. The fighting in Mindanao and Joló went on as a matter of course like the Acheen war in Sumatra, and an expedition was sent against the Igorrotes. But in the civilised districts of Luzon and Visayas good order was kept. The only outbreak I remember was the religious excitement in Samar, which closed when the false gods were shot down. [55]

Crime was infrequent, and in those fourteen years I do not think half-a-dozen executions took place. There was less risk of burglary in Manila than in a London suburb. Whatever their faults I must give the Spanish Administration credit for the perfect order they kept. Manila, in this respect, compared favourably with Hong Kong, and still better with Singapore, where the authorities, perhaps remembering the fate of Governor Eyre of Jamaica, and in terror of Exeter Hall, tolerated the incredible insolence of the Chinese secret societies. These villainous organisations, which in Singapore successfully defied the law, never raised their heads in Manila, and Rajah Brooke showed how to treat them in Sarawak.

In pursuance of the Asimilista policy, in July 1887, the Penal Code was put in force in the Philippines by peremptory order from the Government at Madrid, and much against the opinion of experienced officials. In December of the same year the Civil Code was promulgated.

It cannot be said that these reforms, however well-intended, produced any beneficial effect on the natives. Combined with the great increase in taxation, they intensified the discontent that was always smouldering, more especially in the hearts of the native priests. Their grievances against the religious orders, and more particularly against the Recollets, who had been compensated for the handing over of their benefices in Mindanao to the Jesuits, at the expense of the secular clergy, were the cause of their bitter hatred of the Spanish friars.

In 1883 Field-Marshal Jovellar had thought it necessary to strengthen the small garrison by bringing out two battalions of Marine Infantry. However it was not till March 1st, 1888, that some natives and mestizos, emboldened by the fact that an anti-clerical, D. Jose Centeno, a mining engineer, was Acting Civil Governor of Manila, walked in procession to his official residence and presented a petition addressed to the Governor-General, demanding the immediate expulsion of the friars of the religious orders, and of the Archbishop, whom they declared unworthy to occupy the Primacy of the Islands. They further demanded the secularisation of the benefices and the confiscation of the estates of the Augustinians and the Dominicans.

To this petition there were 810 signatures, but when the signatories were summoned and examined, most of [56]them (as is their custom) declared they did not know what they had signed, and denied that they wished the friars to be expelled.

The petition was said to have been written by Doroteo Cortes, a mestizo lawyer, but I am told he did not sign it.

This manifestation, sixteen years after the mutiny at Cavite, seems to have had some relation to that event, for the petition accused the friars of compassing the death of Father Burgos, by subornation of justice.

The result of this appeal of the natives was that the principal persons who took part in it were banished, or sent to reside at undesirable spots within the Archipelago.

There were some agrarian disturbances at Calamba and Santa Rosa, one of the estates of the Dominicans, in 1890.

I may say that only the Augustinians, the Dominicans, and the Recollets possess landed estates, and that I have had the opportunity of examining several of them. They are all situated in Tagal territory, and as they are the pick of the lands, their possession by the friars has caused great heart-burnings amongst the Tagals—there has been a smouldering agrarian discontent for years. [57]

Before referring further to these estates it may be as well to give a brief sketch of the religious orders, whose existence is bound up with the history of the Philippines, to the conversion and civilisation of which they have so largely contributed. They won the islands for Spain, they held them for centuries, and now, having served their purpose, they have lost them, doubtless for ever.

The Augustinians were the pioneers in converting the inhabitants of the Philippines, and they have maintained their predominance ever since.

I therefore begin my description with this venerable order, and it will be proper to say something about its glorious founder. [58]

The following data are taken from the ‘Encyclopædia Britannica’ and other sources.

Augustine (Aurelius Augustinus) one of the four great fathers of the Latin Church, and admittedly the greatest of the four, was born at Tagaste (Tajelt), a town of Numidia, North Africa, A.D. 354. His father, Patricius, was a burgess of this town, and was still a pagan at the time of his son’s birth.

His mother, Mónica, was not only a Christian, but a woman of the most elevated, tender, and devoted piety, whose affectionate and beautiful enthusiasm have passed into a touching type of womanly saintliness for all ages.

Augustine studied rhetoric at Madaura and Carthage, and visited Rome and Milan.

He passed many years in unrest of mind and doubt, but ultimately a passage from Romans xii. 13, 14 seemed to pour the light of peace into his heart. He became a Christian and was baptised in his thirty-third year. Patricius was also converted and baptised, and Monica found the desire of her life fulfilled and her dear ones united to her in faith.

After some years of retirement, Augustine made a journey to Hippo Regius, a Roman colony on the River Rubricatus in North Africa, and became a presbyter.

His principal writings are ‘The City of God,’ ‘Confessions,’ and ‘The Trinity.’

He died during the siege of Hippo by the Vandals at the age of 75.

The theological position and influence of Augustine may be said to be unrivalled. No single name has ever exercised such power over the Christian Church, and no one mind has ever made such an impression upon Christian thought.

The Augustinians look upon this great Christian moralist as their founder, and reverence his memory and that of his saintly mother.

Whether he personally drew up the rules they observe or not, they were his disciples, following in his foot-steps, and finding their inspiration in his writings and example.

Great indeed must have been the magnetic force of that vehement nature that it could give an impetus to his followers that carried them all over Europe, that made them the companions of the discoverers and conquerors of [59]the New World, and that filled their hearts with zeal and courage to face the dangers of the great lone ocean in company with Villalobos and Legáspi.

The Order traces its inception to the town of Hippo, and fixes the date at A.D. 395. Many, doubtless, were its vicissitudes, but in the year 1061, and again in 1214, we find the Order remodelled and extended. The Augustinians were very numerous in England and Scotland. In 1105 they had settled at Colchester and at Nostell, near Pontefract. Later they had abbeys at Bristol, Llantony, Christchurch, Twynham, Bolton and London, where part of their church (Austin Friars) is still standing. Altogether they had 170 houses in England. Their first house in Scotland was at Scone in 1114, and they soon had 25 houses, including churches or abbeys at Inchcolm in the Firth of Forth, St Andrew’s, Holyrood, Cambuskenneth and Inchaffray.

The Austin Friars or Black Canons were then described as an order of regular clergy holding a middle position between monks and secular canons, almost resembling a community of parish priests living under rule, and they have retained these characteristics to the present day.

They were numerous in Spain, and some of the other Orders, such as the Dominicans or Preaching Friars, the Franciscans, and the Recollets, may almost be looked upon as offshoots of this venerable order, for they conformed to its general rule, with certain additions. Thus the Dominicans, founded by Saint Dominic de Guzman, were incorporated in 1216 by a Bull of Pope Honorius III. and adopted a rule of absolute poverty or mendicancy in addition to the usual vows of chastity and obedience.

This Order held its first chapter in 1220 at Bologna, under the presidency of its founder.

The vows of poverty of this powerful Order have not prevented it from holding large estates in the Philippines, from owning blocks of buildings in Manila and Hong Kong, and from having a huge sum invested in British and American securities. These however belong to the Corporation and not to the individual members.

From Spain the Augustinians spread to Mexico and assisted the Franciscans, who were the pioneers there under Father Bartolomé de Olmédo and Father Martin de Valencia, to gather in the abundant harvest. Father Toribio de Benavénte was one of twelve Franciscans sent out in 1523, [60]and he has left records of the success of these missionaries. They opened schools and founded colleges, and in twenty years nine millions of converts had been admitted into the Christian fold.

By this time Magellan had passed the narrow straits, and sailing across the vast solitudes of the Pacific had reached the Visayas Islands to meet his fate, and Sebastian de Elcano had completed the circumnavigation of the globe and had arrived in Spain with accounts of the new lands which the expedition had discovered.

When, in 1542, Captain Ruy Lopez de Villalobos sailed from Natividad (Mexico) for the Islands of the Setting Sun, only to die of grief at Amboyna, there accompanied him a group of Augustinian Friars. After the loss of his vessels the survivors took ship for Goa and from thence returned to Europe, arriving at Lisbon in August 1549, seven years after leaving the port of Natividad.

The Order has carefully preserved the names of these early missionaries; they are, Frs. Jeronimo de San Esteban, Sebastian de Trasierra, Nicolas de Perea, Alonso Alvarado.

In the expedition under General Don Miguel Lopez de Legáspi, which sailed in 1564, Fray Andres Urdanéta, an Augustinian, went as chief navigator and cartographer, and the following friars accompanied him: Frs. Andres de Aiguirre, Martin de Rada, Diego Herrero, Pedro Gamboa.

Since founding the city of Cebú in 1570, and the city of Manila the following year, the Augustinians have continued to found town after town, and down to 1892 had founded no less than two hundred and forty-two, administered by two hundred and forty-seven priests of the Order as by the following table:—

Year 1892.

Population of the above 203 towns, 2,082,181. [61]

In former years this Order had established missions in Japan, and they were very successful in making converts, but during the persecution many members of the Order lost their lives, or, as they phrase it, “attained the palm of martyrdom.”

At the present time they maintain seven missionaries in the province of Hun-nan in China. In Spain they support three colleges, Valladolid, La Vid, and La Escorial. They are also in charge of the magnificent church of that extraordinary palace, and of the priceless library of which they are editing a catalogue.

The Augustinians have published a great many works, such as grammars and vocabularies of the native dialects, and many books of devotion.

One of their leading men, Father Manuel Blanco, was a most learned and laborious botanist. He collected and classified so many of the Philippine plants that the Order decided to complete his work and publish it. Fray Andres Naves and Fray Celestino Fernandez Villar, both well-known to me, worked for years at this, and were assisted by my illustrious friend H. E. Don Sebastian Vidal Soler and others.

The result is a most sumptuous and magnificent work—published in Manila—there being four folio volumes enriched by many hundreds of coloured plates of the different trees, shrubs, orchids and lianas, most beautifully executed from water-colour paintings by D. Regino Garcia and others. This monumental book is called the ‘Flora Filipina.’ It received a diploma of honour at the International Colonial Exhibition of Amsterdam in 1883. The British Museum [62]possesses a copy, but unfortunately most of the work was destroyed by fire in the bombardment of the Convent of Guadalupe during the war.

However, the widow of Señor Vidal, now Mrs. Amilon of Philadelphia, still has some copies to dispose of.

I hope that what I have said about the Augustinians will show that they are not the lazy and unprofitable persons they are sometimes represented. The same may be said of the Dominicans.

The Augustinians were followed, after an interval of seven years, by the Franciscans, four years after that by the Jesuits, six years after the Jesuits came the Dominicans.

Last of all came the Recollets, or bare-footed Augustinians.

The following Table gives the numbers of friars of the five religious orders in the Philippines, at the dates mentioned, taken from their own returns. The first column gives the dates of the first foundation of the Order, the second the date of its arrival in the Archipelago. The other columns give the statistics of baptisms, marriages and deaths, taken from the parish registers.

[63]

These holy men have, since very early times, shown themselves rather turbulent, and then and always endeavoured to carry matters with a high hand. Thus in 1582 we find them refusing to admit the diocesan visit of the Bishop of Manila, and that old dispute has cropped up on and off many times since then. At the same time we find them taking the part of the natives against the Encomenderos. They have always been ready to fight for their country and to subscribe money for its defence. When Acting Governor Guido de Lavezares headed the column which attacked the pirate Li-ma-Hon, he was accompanied by the Provincial of the Augustinians. In 1603 all the friars in Manila took up arms against the revolted Chinese, and three years later the Augustinians not only furnished a war ship to fight the Portuguese, but provided a captain for it in the person of one of their Order, Fray Antonio Flores. It appears that the estates of the Augustinians and the Dominicans were very early a bone of contention, for in 1689 a judge arrived in Manila, and, in virtue of a special commission he had brought from Madrid, he required them to present their titles. This they refused to do, and the judge was sent back to Mexico, and a friend of the friars was appointed as Commissioner in his place. Then the friars condescended to unofficially exhibit their titles. Now more than two centuries after the first abortive attempt, the question of the ownership of these lands is still under discussion.

During the British occupation of Manila in 1763 the friars took up arms in defence of their flag, and gave their church bells to be cast into cannon. No less than ten Augustinians fell on the field of battle. The British treated them with great severity, sacking and destroying their rectories and estate houses, and selling everything of theirs they could lay hands on. I have visited the ruins of the old estate house of Malinta which was burnt by the British.

In 1820, when the massacre of foreigners by the Manila mob took place, owing the cowardice of General Folgueras, the archbishop and friars marched out in procession to the scene of the disturbance and succeeded in saving many lives. In 1851 a Recollet, Father Ibañez, raised a battalion from his congregation, trained and commanded it. He took the field at Mindanao and with the most undaunted bravery led his men to the assault of a Moro Cotta, or fort, dying [64]like our General Wolfe at the moment of victory. Not one man of this battalion ever deserted or hung back from the combats, for the worthy priest had all their wives under a solemn vow never to receive them again unless they returned victorious from the campaign.

The religious orders have frequently interfered to protect the natives against the civil authorities, and were often on very good terms with the mass of their parishioners. The greatest jealousy of them was felt by the native clergy.

The military revolt which broke out in Cavite in 1872, was doubtless inspired by this class, who saw that a policy had been adopted of filling vacancies in all benefices except the poorest, with Spanish friars instead of natives. The condemnation of Burgos, Gomez, and Zamora, three native priests who were executed at Manila soon after the suppression of the revolt, is ascribed by the natives and mestizos to the subornation of justice to the friars, who are said to have paid a large sum for their condemnation.

However this may be, there is no doubt that since that date the feeling against the friars has become intensified.

The friars were the chief outposts and even bulwarks of the government against rebellions. Almost every rising has been detected by them, many plots being revealed by women under the seal of confession. It was only by the assistance of the friars that the islands were held by Spain for so many centuries almost without any military force.

The islands were not conquered by force of arms—the people were converted almost without firing a shot.

The greater part of the fighting was to protect the natives against Chinese pirates, Japanese corsairs, Dutch rovers, or the predatory heathen.

The defensive forces consisted of local troops and companies of Mexican and Peruvian Infantry. It is only since 1828 that Manila has been garrisoned by regular troops from the Peninsula.

During my residence in the islands I do not think there were more than 1500 Spanish troops in garrison in the whole islands, except when some marines were sent out. These troops belonged to the Peninsular Regiment of Artillery, and were a very fine looking set of men.

That this small force could be sufficient is evidently [65]due to the influence of the friars in keeping the people quiet.

Yet the feeling of a great majority of Spanish civilians was against the friars, and I think many of those who supported them, only did so from interested motives.

The consequence was that as the number of Spaniards increased, the influence of the friars diminished, for the Spanish anti-clericals had no scruples in criticising the priests and in speaking plainly to the natives to their prejudice.

The friars have fared badly at the hands of several writers on the Philippines; but it will be noticed that those who know the least about them speak the worst of them.

Herr Jagor, who was much amongst them, bears witness to the strict decorum of their households, whilst he very justly says that the behaviour of the native clergy leaves something to be desired.

Foreman hints at horrors, and with questionable taste relates how he found amongst a priest’s baggage some very obscene pictures.

Worcester thinks the priests’ influence wholly bad. From what he states in his book, he must have come across some very bad specimens amongst the smaller islands where he wandered.

Younghusband, who perhaps got his information at the bar of the Manila Club, describes them as “monsters of lechery.”

There is a tradition that when the conclusions of a tribunal favourable to the canonisation of Santa Rosa de Lima, Patroness of the Indies, were laid before Pope Clement X., that Pontiff manifested his incredulity that a tropical climate could produce a saint. He is even credited with the saying that bananas and saints are not grown together.

The tradition may be erroneous, but there is something in the opinion that deserves to be remembered.

Temperature does have something to do with sexual morality, and in comparing one country with another an allowance must be made for the height of the thermometer.

The friars in the Philippines are but men, and men exposed to great temptations. We should remember the tedium of life in a provincial town, where, perhaps, the parish priest is the only European, and is surfeited with the conversation of his native curates, of the half-caste [66]apothecary and the Chinese store-keeper. He has neither society nor amusement.

I have previously remarked upon the position of women in the Philippines. I may repeat that their position, both by law and custom, is at least as good as in the most advanced countries.

I remember reading with great interest, and, perhaps, some sympathy, a remarkable article in the New York Herald, of January 10th, 1894, headed “Virtue Defined,” signed by Tennie C. Claflin (Lady Cook), and it seemed to me a plea for “equality of opportunity” between the sexes, if I may borrow the phrase from diplomacy. Well, that equality exists in the Philippines. Whilst unmarried, the girls enjoy great freedom. In that tolerant land a little ante-nuptial incontinence is not an unpardonable crime in a girl any more than in a youth, nor does it bar the way to marriage.

The girls whilst young possess exceedingly statuesque figures, and what charms they have are nature’s own, for they owe nothing to art. Their dress is modest, yet as they do not wear a superfluity of garments, at times, as when bathing, their figures are revealed to view.

Bearing in mind the above condition of things and that the priest is the principal man in the town and able to do many favours to his friends, it is not surprising if some of the young women, impelled by the desire of obtaining his good graces, make a dead set at him, such as we sometimes see made at a bachelor curate in our own so-very-much-more frigid and, therefore, moral country. The priest, should he forget his vows of celibacy, is a sinner, and deserving of blame for failing to keep the high standard of virtue which his Church demands. But I do not see in that a justification for calling him a monster. Have we never heard of a backslider in Brooklyn, or of a clerical co-respondent at home, that we should expect perfection in the Philippines? As for the statements that the priests take married women by force, that is an absurdity. The Tagals are not men to suffer such an outrage.

The toleration enjoyed by the girls, above referred to, is a heritage from heathen times, which three centuries of Christianity have failed to extirpate. In fact, this is a characteristic of the Malay race.

During the many years I was in the islands I had frequent occasion to avail myself of the hospitality of the [67]priests on my journeys. This was usually amongst the Augustinians, the Dominicans and the Recollets. I declare that on none of those many occasions did I ever witness anything scandalous, or indecorous in their convents, and I arrived at all hours and without notice.

As to Younghusband’s denouncement of them as “monsters of lechery,” I would say that they were notoriously the most healthy and the longest-lived people in the islands, and if that most unjust accusation was true, this could hardly be the case. It should be remembered that the priest of any large town would be a man advanced in years and therefore less likely to misconduct himself.

There was also the certainty that any open scandal would be followed by punishment from the provincial and council of the order. I have known a priest to be practically banished to a wretched hamlet amongst savages for two years for causing scandal.

Some late writers speak of the native clergy as if they were of superior morality and better behaved than the Spanish priests. That appreciation does not commend itself to those who have had some experience of the Philippine clergy.

Some of those I have known were of very relaxed morals, not to say scandalous in their behaviour. The Philippine Islands, in short, are not the chosen abode of chastity: but I do not know why the Spanish friars should be singled out for special censure in this respect.

I can truly say that I was not acquainted with any class out there entitled to cast the first stone.

Each of the orders (except the Jesuits) is a little republic governed or administered by officers and functionaries elected by the suffrages of the members. The head of the order is a Superior or General, who resides in Rome, but the head in the Philippines is called the Provincial.

The brethren render him the greatest respect and obedience, kneeling down to kiss his hand.

There is a council to assist the provincial, they are called definidores or padres graves, the exact nomenclature varies in the different orders.

There is a Procurator or Commissary in Madrid, a Procurator-General in Manila, a Prior or Guardian to each convent not being a rectory, an Orator or preacher, lay-brethren in charge of estates or of works, parish priests, missionaries, and coadjutors, learning the native dialects. [68]

The members of the order were appointed to benefices according to their standing and popularity amongst their brethren. The neophytes are trained in one of the seminaries of the order in Spain; for instance, the Augustinians have colleges at Valladolid, La Vid, and La Escorial, with more than 300 students.

When a young priest first arrived in the Philippines, he was sent as a coadjutor to some parish priest to learn the dialect of the people he is to work amongst. Then he would be appointed a missionary to the heathen, where he lived on scanty pay, amongst savages, either in the highlands of Luzon or in some remote island, remaining there for two or three years. His first promotion would be to a parish consisting of a village of thatched houses (nipa) and, perhaps, the church and convent would be of the same material. This meant a constant and imminent dread of the almost instantaneous destruction of his dwelling by fire. Perhaps there is communication with Manila once a month, when, by sending to the nearest port, he may get letters and newspapers and receive some provisions, an occasional cask of Spanish red wine, some tins of chorizos (Estremeño smoked sausages), a sack of garbanzos, or frijóles, a box of turron de Alicante, and some cigars from the procuration of the convent in Manila. These would be charged to his account, and frugally as he might live, many a year might pass over his head before he would be out of debt to his Order. And poor as he might be, he would never refuse his house or his table to any European who might call upon him. Later on, if his conduct had satisfied his superiors, the time would come when he would get nominated to a more accessible and more profitable parish, that would quickly enable him to pay off the debt due to the procuration. He would have a church and convent of stone, keep a carriage and pair of ponies, and begin to have a surplus, and to contribute a little to the funds of his Order.

Soon he would become Padre Grave, and begin to have influence with his colleagues. He would be removed to a richer town and nominated Vicario Foráneo, equivalent to an archdeacon in England. Later on, he might be elected a Definidor, or councillor. Then, perhaps, one of the great prizes of the order fell to his lot. He might be appointed parish priest of Taal or Biñan, worth at least ten thousand dollars a year, or of rich Lipa, high amongst its coffee groves (now, alas! withered), which used to be worth twenty [69]thousand dollars in a good year. He would treat himself well, and liberally entertain all who visited him, and governors of provinces, judges, officers of the Guardia Civil, would often be seen at his table.

He would make large contributions to the funds of the Order, with the surplus revenue of his parish.

If, however, the priest whose career we have been following, had shown sufficient character for a champion, and had become popular in the Order, he might, perhaps, be elected Provincial, and then, disposing of the influence of his Order, some day get himself made a Bishop or even Archbishop of Manila, should a vacancy occur, and so become a prince of the Church.

Whatever talents a friar had, a sphere could always be found for their exercise. If he had a gift for preaching, he could be appointed Orator of the Order. If he was good at Latin and Greek, he could be made a professor at the university. If he was a good business man, he could be chosen procurator. If he had diplomatic talents, he could be made commissary of the order at Madrid. In any case he was sure to be taken care of to the end of his days.

As for the Orders in themselves, I have already said that, excepting the Society of Jesus, they are little republics, and that office-holders are elected by the votes of the members. When a general Chapter of the Order is held for this purpose, the members come from all parts and assemble in their convent in Manila.

I am sorry to say that there has sometimes been so much feeling aroused over the question of the distribution of the loaves and fishes, that the opposing parties have broken up the chairs and benches to serve as clubs, and furiously attacked each other in the battle royal, and with deplorable results.

In consequence of this, when the chapter or general assembly was to be held, the governor-general nominated a royal commissary, often a colonel in the army, to be present at these meetings, but only to interfere to keep the peace. It was something of an anomaly to see a son of Mars deputed to keep the peace in an assembly of the clergy. The meeting commenced with prayer, then one by one all the dignitaries laid down their offices and became private members of the Order, so that at the end of this ceremony every one was absolutely equal.

Then the eldest rose and solemnly adjured any one [70]present who held a Bull of the Holy Father, to produce it then and there under pain of major excommunication. Three times was this solemn warning delivered.

It owes its origin, perhaps, to some surprise sprung on a brotherhood in former days, yet it is to be noted that one of the privileges of their Catholic majesties the kings of Spain was, that no Bull should run in their dominions without their approval.

Then free from outside interference, and all present being on an equal footing the election takes place. Amidst great excitement the Provincial, the Procurator, the Orator, the Definidores, or Councillors, are chosen according to their popularity, or as they are deemed best fitted to advance the interests of the voter or the Order.

The selection of office-holders is a matter of the greatest importance to the members, as those in power distribute the benefices and are apt to be more alive to the merits of their supporters, than to the pretensions of those who have voted for others.

But, however divided they may be on these occasions, they unite against any outsider, and unless the question is evidently personal, he who offends a member finds the Order ranged against him, and, perhaps, the other Orders also, for in matters affecting their interests the Orders act in unison, and as has been said, have succeeded in removing not only governors of provinces, but governors-general also when these have failed to do their bidding. [71]

The Augustinians own some fine estates near Manila. In 1877 I visited Malinta and Piedad, which, according to an old plan exhibited to me, drawn by some ancient navigator, measured over 14,000 acres in extent, a good part of which was cultivated and under paddy; still a large expanse was rocky, and grew only cogon (elephant grass). The lay-brother in charge, Aureliano Garcia, confided to me that he went about in fear, and expected to end his life under the bolos of the tenants. I was then new to the country, and saw no signs of discontent. I afterwards visited Mandaloyan, another estate nearer Manila. This was nearly all arable land. The house was large and commodious, and was used as a convalescent home for the friars. I have not a note of the extent of this estate, but it occupies a great part of the space between the rivers Maibonga and San Juan, to the north of the Pasig. The lay-brother in charge, Julian Ibeas, did not seem at all anxious about his safety. The land here was more fertile than that of Malinta, and there was water carriage to a market for the crops.

In view of my report, which was not, however, unduly optimistic, my clients deputed me to ask the Augustinians for a lease of the above three estates for twenty-five years, the rent to be $40,0001 per year for three years, and each year after that an addition of a thousand dollars, so that [72]the ultimate rent would be $62,000 per annum. However, after taking some time to consider, the procurator declined the offer.

On the above estates there was little or nothing done by the owners to improve the land. They had limited themselves to building large and convenient houses and granaries for their own accommodation, and to entertain their friends.

In 1884 I constructed a pumping station on the River Tuliajan in this estate, and laid a pipe line right through the property to supply fresh water to the sugar refinery at Malabon, five miles distant. I had no difficulty in obtaining permission, indeed, Fray Arsenio Campo (now Bishop of Nueva Cáceres) facilitated the work in every way. The only protest was by Doroteo Cortes, a half-caste lawyer, who interposed as the pipe had to pass between two fish-ponds belonging to him, and he extorted a blackmail $800 to withdraw his opposition. Let the reader contrast the behaviour of the Spaniard and the half-caste, now posing as an “Americanista.”

San Francisco de Malabon, another possession of theirs, is a magnificent property, situated on the fertile, well-watered land that slopes from the summits of the Tagaytay range, north of the vast crater-lake of Bombon, to the shores of the ever-famous Bay of Bacoor, the scene of Spain’s naval collapse.

Through the volcanic soil three rivers, the Ilang-ilang, the Camanchíle, and the Jálan, have cut deep gashes down to the bed-rock, on the surface of which the rapid waters rush downwards to the sea.

A nobly-proportioned house of stone, almost a fortress, was planted where it commanded a grand, a stately view. From its windows the spectator looked over fields of waving grain, over fruit trees, and town and hamlets, down to the sea shore, and across the vast expanse of placid bay to where in the far north solitary Arayat rears his head. The thick walls and lofty roof excluded the solar heat, and the green-painted Venetians saved the inmate from the glare. Very welcome was that hostel, furnished in severe ecclesiastical almost mediæval style, to me, after the dusty up-hill drive of eight miles from Cavite.

I visited this estate in 1879, and found that extensive irrigation works had been carried out. A new dam on one of the rivers, about fifty feet high, was approaching completion. [73]Unfortunately, the work had been executed by a lay-brother, a stone mason, without professional supervision. He was ignorant of the necessity of taking special precautions when preparing the seat for the dam. Although he had a bed of volcanic tuff to build upon he would not go to the trouble to cut into and stop all faults and crevices in the rock before laying his first course of masonry, and he hurried on the job to save expense as he supposed. For the same reason he did not attempt to follow the correct profile of the dam. When the pressure came on, the water spouted up in little fountains, and gradually increased as it cut away the soft stone. I advised them what to do, and after a good deal of work, Portland cement and puddled clay got them out of their difficulty.

About four miles to the eastward of San Francisco de Malabon, and on the same volcanic soil, is the great estate of Imus belonging to the Recollets, or unshod Augustinians. It is about five miles from the landing-place at Bacoor. Here again three rivers run through the property, and the view from the house is the same.

The house itself was a grim fortress and served the rebels well in 1896, for they found arms and ammunition in it, and successfully defended it against General Aiguirre who had to retire, being unable to take it without artillery.

In 1897 the army of General Lachambre advanced against Imus, and on the 24th March took the outer defences of the town, notwithstanding the determined resistance of the Tagals, of whom three hundred were killed in a hand-to-hand combat. Next day the estate house, which adjoins the town and had been for six months the stronghold of the Katipunan, was bombarded and burnt, only the ruins remain.

There are extensive works of irrigation at this place also, and formerly a large sugar works was built here by the owners, but it failed, as there was no one fit to take charge of it.

I have not visited this Hacienda, and cannot give its extent or value.

Of all the Orders the greatest land-owners are the Dominicans. They have vast estates in Calamba, Cabuyáo, Santa Rosa, Biñan, and San Pedro Tunasán, all on the Lake of Bay, also at Naic and Santa Cruz on the Bay of Manila. I have several times visited their estates at the first two places, and can affirm that they have expended [74]considerable sums in building dams for irrigating the lands, and I supplied them with some very large cast-iron pipes for the purpose of making a syphon across a ravine or narrow valley to convey water for irrigating the opposite plain. They have consequently very largely increased the value of these lands.

The house at Calamba, solidly built of stone, with a strong and high encircling wall, served as a fortified camp and headquarters for the Spanish army in operation against the rebels in 1897.

This estate of Calamba has earned a sad notoriety in the Philippines, for the disputes which constantly arose between the administration and their tenants.

It is hardly too much to say that the possession of estates has been fatal to the Orders. They claim to have always been good and indulgent landlords, but the fact remains that all these estates are in Tagal territory, that only the Tagals revolted, and that the revolt was directed against the Orders because of their tyranny and extortions, and because they were landlords and rack renters.

It was, is now, and ever will be an Agrarian question that will continue to give trouble and be the cause of crime and outrage until settled in a broad-minded and statesman-like manner.

These estates have been a bone of contention for centuries, and were a principal cause of the last revolt of the Tagals. Yet the Peace Commission at Paris appears to have given the three Orders a new title to their disputed possessions by guaranteeing to the Church the enjoyment of its property, which, if the Spaniards had continued to rule the islands, must ultimately have been taken from it in the natural course of events, as has happened in every other Catholic country.

I have no doubt that the pacification of the Philippines by the American forces has been greatly retarded, and is now rendered more difficult, by this clause, which must have been accepted by the American commissioners under a misapprehension of its import, and from imperfect information as to the status quo. This difficult matter can still be arranged, but it will require the outlay of a considerable sum of money, which, however, would eventually be recouped.

In present circumstances I venture to say that a garrison would be needed at each estate to protect an administrator [75]or collector, for the Tagal tenants are as averse to paying rent for land as any bog-trotter in Tipperary. I do not envy anybody who purchases these estates, nor would I consider the life of such a one a good risk for an insurance company, if he intended to press the tenants for rents or arrears.

To sum up the Religious Orders, they were hardy and adventurous pioneers of Christianity, and in the evangelisation of the Philippines, by persuasion and teaching, they did more for Christianity and civilisation than any other missionaries of modern times.

Of undaunted courage they have ever been to the front when calamities threatened their flocks; they have witnessed and recorded some of the most dreadful convulsions of nature, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, and destructive typhoons. In epidemics of plague and cholera they have not been dismayed, nor have they ever in such cases abandoned their flocks.

When an enemy has attacked the islands they have been the first to face the shot. Only fervent faith could enable these men to endure the hardships, and overcome the dangers that encompassed them.

They have done much for education, having founded schools for both sexes, training colleges for teachers, the university of St. Thomas in Manila, and other institutions.

Hospitals and asylums attest their charity. They were formerly, and even lately, the protectors of the poor against the rich, and of the native against the Spaniard. They have consistently resisted the enslavement of the natives.

They restrained the constant inclination of the natives to wander away into the woods and return to primitive savagery by keeping them in the towns, or, as they said, “Under the bells.”

On the other hand, peace and plenty (those blessings for which we pray), have corrupted and demoralised the Orders. No longer liable at any moment to be called upon to fight for their lives, the sterner virtues have decayed. Increased production and export enriched the people, a gold coinage was introduced, and the friars allowed avarice to possess their souls.

In those lands of perpetual summer no death duties have to be paid to a Chancellor of the Exchequer, as in this island of fog and mist.

But the friars have a system of charges for performing [76]the funeral ceremonies, which comes to much the same in the end. I call it a system; it is a very simple system, and consists in extorting as much as they can get, taking into consideration the wealth of the family. To give an instance, I have been assured by a son of Capitan Natalio Lopez, of Balayan, a native gentleman well known to me, that the parish priest charged the family six hundred dollars for performing their father’s funeral ceremony. The same rule applies to baptisms and marriages, and this abuse calls for redress, and for the establishment of fixed fees according to the position of the parties.

Each friar, as a parish priest, was an outpost of the central government, watching for symptoms of revolt. Only thus could the Spaniards hold the archipelago with fifteen hundred Peninsular troops, and a small squadron of warships.

The greatest, and the best-founded, complaint of the natives against the priests, was that whoever displeased them, either in personal or money matters, was liable to be denounced to the authorities as a filibuster, and to be torn from home and family and deported to some distant and probably unhealthy spot, there to reside, at his own cost, for an indefinite time, by arbitrary authority, without process of law. Such a punishment, euphoniously termed “forced residence,” sometimes involved the death of the exile, and always caused heavy expense, as a pardon could not be obtained without bribing some one.

Ysabelo de los Reyes, and other natives, accuse the friars of extorting evidence from suspected persons by torture. I fear there can be no doubt that many victims, including a number of the native clerics, suffered flagellation and other tortures at the hands of the friars for the above purpose. The convents of Nueva-Cáceres and of Vigan, amongst other places, were the scenes of these abominable practices, and Augustinians, Dominicans and Franciscans, have taken part in them. This is referred to at greater length in another part of this work under the heading, “The Insurrection of 1896.”

Individual friars were sometimes, nay, often, very worthy parish priests. I have known many such. But a community is often worse than the individuals of which it is composed. One might say with the Italian musician who had served for many years in a cathedral, and had obtained the promise of every individual canon to support [77]his application for a pension, when he was told that the chapter had unanimously refused his request:

“The canons are good, but the chapter is bad.”

A board will jointly do a meaner action than the shadiest director amongst them, and should it comprise one or two members of obtrusive piety, that circumstance enables it to disregard the ordinary standard of right and wrong with more assurance.

There is a law in metallurgy which has a curious analogy to this law of human nature. It is this: An alloy composed of several metals of different melting-points, will fuse at a lower temperature than that of its lowest fusing constituent.

The Orders, then, have been of the greatest service in the past; they have brought the Philippines and their inhabitants to a certain pitch of civilisation, and credit is due to them for this much, even if they could go no farther. For years their influence over the natives has been decreasing, and year by year the natives have become more and more antagonistic to priestly rule.

A considerable intellectual development has taken place of late years in the Philippines. The natives are no longer content to continue upon the old lines; they aspire to a freer life. Many even harbour a sentiment of nationality such as was never thought of before.

But if the Orders had lost ground with the natives and with many Spaniards, their influence still preponderated. Owners of vast estates, possessors of fabulous riches, armed with spiritual authority, knowing the secrets of every family, holding the venal courts of justice as in the hollow of their hand, dominating the local government, standing above the law, and purchasing the downfall of their enemies from the corrupt ministries in Madrid, these giant trusts, jealous of each other, yet standing firmly shoulder to shoulder in the common cause, constitute a barrier to progress that can have no place nor use under an American Protectorate. They are an anachronism in the twentieth century, and they must disappear as corporations from the Philippines.

They should not, however, be buried under an avalanche of contumely and slander; their long and glorious past should be remembered, and in winding up their estates due regard should be paid to the interests of every member. I cannot here intimate how this is to be done, for it is an [78]intricate subject, rendered more complex by the reluctance of the American Government to interfere in religious matters, even though they are so bound up with the politics of the Philippines that no pacification can be effected without following popular sentiment upon this point.

So far as the landed estates are concerned, the settlement could be arrived at by a commission with ample powers. In the meantime, no sale of these estates should be recognised.

The benefices held by the friars should be gradually bestowed upon the secular clergy, as suitable men can be found. The native clergy have always been badly used by the friars; they have had to suffer abuse and ignominious treatment. They have not been in a position to develop their dignity and self-respect.

I have spoken of them in general as leaving something to be desired as to decorous conduct, but they will doubtless improve when placed in positions of consideration and responsibility.

Amongst them are men of considerable learning; some have passed brilliant examinations in theology and canon law.

As regards piety, Malays, whether heathen, Mahometan or Christian, take their religion lightly, and we must not expect too much. I daresay they are pious enough for the country and the climate. [79]

Fray Eduardo Navarro, Procurator of the Augustinians, and Ysabelo de los Reyes, an Ilocano, and author of some notable works, agree that the first masonic lodge of the Philippines was founded in Cavite about 1860. The latter states that Malcampo and Mendez-Nuñez, two distinguished naval officers, were the founders. Soon after this, another lodge was founded in Zamboanga, also under naval auspices. After 1868, a lodge was founded in Manila by foreigners, a wealthy Filipino being secretary. Another lodge was founded in Pandakan, another in Cebú, and still another in Cavite, to which Crisanto Reyes and Maximo Inocencio belonged.

These lodges at first had only Peninsular Spaniards or other Europeans as members, but gradually Creoles, Mestizos, and natives, joined the brotherhood, and subscribed liberally to its funds.

The Catholic clergy have always looked upon Masons as most dangerous enemies, and many pontiffs have launched their anathemas against the brotherhood. But, so far as one can see, to quote from ‘The Jackdaw of Rheims,’ “No one seemed a penny the worse.”

Masonry grows and flourishes in spite of them all. To give an example. Many years ago, in the very Catholic city of Lima, I attended the civil funeral of a priest, the learned Doctor Don Francisco de Paula Gonzales Vigil, who died excommunicate. Twelve thousand men, including the Masons with their insignia, deputations from the Senate and Chamber, from the Municipality, Army, Navy, and other bodies, formed the funeral cortège. The Municipality [80]presented a tomb in the public cemetery, which is one of the finest in the world, and an orator pronounced an impassioned eulogy upon the virtues and patriotism of the deceased. It was a wonderful manifestation, and remains graven upon my memory. On that day every priest and friar found something to occupy himself with at home. Whatever may be the case in Great Britain or in the United States, there can be no doubt that in Catholic countries the lodges are antagonistic to the clergy and the Church.

The lodges in the Philippines were founded by anti-clerical Spaniards of liberal views, and the Creoles, Mestizos and natives who joined them found brethren disposed to sympathise with them and to work with them against the friars. There was no idea of revolting against the mother country, but rather to introduce a more liberal government, with representation for the civilised provinces in the Spanish Córtes. It must be remembered that this representation had already existed, and only required to be revived. There had been deputies to the Córtes-Generales from 1810 to 1814, and from 1820 to 1823, and Procuradores from 1834 to 1837.

The Córtes of Cadiz, on 14th October, 1810, declared:—

These are very noble words, and, delivered in the majestic language of Castile by some enthusiastic orator, must have gone straight to the hearts of those that heard them.

Spain is as celebrated for orators as Great Britain for the lack of them. Our generation has never produced a speaker like Castelar. But, unfortunately for the Philippines, these grand and sonorous phrases dissolved in air, and led to nothing practical. The friars stoutly opposed what to them seemed dangerous innovations; they were successful, and darkness again prevailed.

The insurrection of Cavite, in 1872, resulted in the execution or exile of many members of the masonic body, and the brotherhood was for some years under a cloud.

The Peninsular Spaniards dissociated themselves from [81]the revolutionary party. To use a simile which has been employed in England to describe the difference between Liberals and Radicals, they were “going by the same train, but not going so far.”

The Creoles and Mestizos gradually founded new societies, which were alleged to aim at obtaining reforms by legal and constitutional means.

“The Asociacion Hispano-Filipina” had for its first president Doroteo Cortés, and amongst its officers Ambrosio Rianzares Bautista, Pedro Serrano, and Deodato Arellano.

The “Liga Filipina” was founded by Dr. Rizal and Domingo Franco; its first president was shot. Nearly all the members were Masons; they were well off, and of fair education, not inclined to put their persons or property in danger. They did not want to fight. Their programme may be summed up as follows:—

It was certainly not without risk to be a member of one of these societies, for the Orders are vindictive in the extreme, and are not troubled with scruples when it is a question of punishing an opponent.

Still, the Creole and Mestizo element were made cautious by the possession of property, and its members cannot be called fighting-men. They did not intend to run the risk of having holes bored through them.

They founded newspapers in Spain; they wrote violent articles, they made speeches, they obtained the support of some Liberals and anti-clericals in the Peninsula, and [82]numbered many adherents in the islands. Still, they were comparatively harmless. Not so, however, was a society which was formed of very different elements. Taking a hint, perhaps, from the murderous brotherhood of the Ku-Klux-Klan, some resolute and courageous Tagals imagined and formed that terrible secret society, the Katipunan. There is no K in the Spanish alphabet, but this letter is found in the Malay dialects, and consequently in Tagal. Therefore, the symbol of the society, K.K.K., was as distinctly anti-Spanish as was the full title, which was represented by the initials—

N M A N B

The words corresponding to these initials were:—

They used signs and passwords. There were three grades of members:—

Andrés Bonifacio, a warehouse-keeper in the service of Messrs. Fressel & Co., of Manila, was the guiding spirit of this society, and at the meeting of 1st January, 1896, the Supreme Council was elected as follows:—

[83]

The members of the Katipunan were poor people—writers, common soldiers, washermen, mechanics, and tenants on the friars’ estates. They subscribed small sums monthly for the purchase of arms, and for other expenses. Bearing in mind how many conspiracies had been denounced to the priests by the women, the leaders of this movement gave their meetings the outward appearance of benevolent associations, and directed the members to represent the society to their wives in that light.

Later on a woman’s lodge, with twenty-five members was organised, under the presidency of Marina Dison, but the women were not informed of the true object of the society.

Fray Eduardo Navarro, Procurator of the Augustinians, in a cleverly-written work, entitled ‘The Philippines; a Study of Certain Matters of Moment,’ published in 1897, prints under No. 3 of the Appendix the title granted by the Walana Lodge, No. 158, certifying that “our dear sister, Purificacion Leyva, has been initiated in the degree of Companion-Mason at the session of 8th April, 1894.”

On reading this work, I infer that the friars considered the Katipunan a Masonic body, but this is a mistake. The Katipunan adopted some of the Masonic paraphernalia, and some of the initiatory ceremonies, but were in no sense Masonic lodges.

The programme of the Katipunan was, in its own words, “to redeem the Philippines from its tyrants, the friars, and to found a communistic republic.” This was simple and direct, and they meant it.

How many men were affiliated to this society cannot be known. Estimates range from 10,000 to 50,000 members. I think there can be no doubt that it was the most potent factor in the insurrection of 1896, and that its members, unlike the Creoles and Mestizos, were ready to give their lives for their cause. [84]

The Augustinians take credit to themselves that one of their order, Father Mariano Gil, parish priest of Tondo, discovered the existence of the revolutionary conspiracy, on the 19th August. But already on the 5th of July a lieutenant of the Guardia Civil had declared in a written report that there were over 14,000 men belonging to the valley of the Pasig, affiliated to the conspiracy.

A council of the authorities was convened on the 6th of August, but nothing was done. On that same date, however, the Governor of Batangas telegraphed that a discovery of arms, ammunition and Republican flags had been made at Taal. In consequence of this, General Blanco ordered some arrests to be made.

On the 19th, Father Gil gave information to General Blanco that he had discovered the existence of a secret revolutionary society, and two days later Blanco reported to the Government in Madrid that there existed a vast organization of secret societies.

At this time the garrison of Manila consisted of some 1500 men, most of them being natives. As arrests were being continually made, the members of the Katipunan, or those suspected of being such, left their homes and took to the woods although very poorly equipped with fire-arms.

On 30th August a party of the rebels under Sancho [85]Valenzuela, Modesto Sarmiento, and others had a fight with some native cavalry and Guardias Civiles at San Juan del Monte near Manila. The rebels lost heavily in killed, their chiefs were taken prisoners and shot on the 4th September, at the Paseo de la Luneta.

A Spanish artilleryman was murdered by some rebels at Pandacan about this time, and martial law was proclaimed.

The Guardia Civil, all native soldiers, was now concentrated in Manila abandoning their outlying posts. After many vacillations and contradictory cablegrams to the Government in Madrid, General Blanco now definitely asked for large reinforcements.

On September 1st, the people of Noveleta revolted and killed a captain and a lieutenant of the Guardia Civil and three days later the rebels penetrated to the town of Caridad, close to Cavite.

Early in September rebels were in arms, and dominating great part of the Provinces of Manila, Cavite, Batangas, Bulacan, Pampanga and Nueva Écija.

By the middle of the month rebel bands appeared in Tarlac, Pangasinán, Laguna, Morong and Tayabas.

On the 9th September, the Cavite rebels attacked San Roque, which is close to the town of Cavite, and burned part of it. On the 12th, thirteen persons who had been convicted by a court-martial of complicity in the revolt were shot in Cavite.

The cables from General Blanco to the Madrid Government were all this time misleading and contradictory, and showed that he had no grasp of the state of affairs. These dispatches were subjected to severe criticism in the Heraldo, a Madrid newspaper.

By the middle of September troops arrived from Zamboanga and other southern stations, and the garrison of Manila was brought up to 6000 men, two-thirds of whom were natives. Reinforcements were sent to Cavite, for the rebels were in great force about Silang, Imus, and Noveleta.

On the 17th September another attack was made by the rebels on San Roque, but was repulsed.

On the 1st October the mail steamer Cataluña arrived with a battalion of marines from Spain, greatly to the delight of the Spaniards, who gave the force an enthusiastic reception. [86]

Next day the ss. Monserrat arrived with more troops, and from this time forward troops kept pouring in.

Still General Blanco remained on the defensive in and around the city of Manila and the town of Cavite, and repulsed attacks made by the rebels on the magazines at Binancáyan and Las Piñas.

The rebels were now firmly established over the rest of the Province of Cavite. The natural features of this part of Luzon made the movements of regular troops extremely difficult. The country abounds in rivers which run from south to north parallel to each other at short distances. They run at the bottom of deep ravines, which present excellent positions for defence. Many of these rivers have dams across them and the sluices in these might be opened by the defenders, or the dams could be blown up in case a column of the assailants should be entangled in the ravine below, when they would inevitably be overwhelmed in the descending torrent.

In places the country could be flooded and thus be rendered impassable for troops.

But the industry of the rebels, skilfully directed, had added enormously to these natural advantages. From the reports of eye-witnesses I can affirm that the entrenchments of the Tagals were colossal. Tagals and Boers have demonstrated that a competitive examination is not necessary to enable fighting-men to entrench themselves. The Tagal lines ran from the delta of the Zapote River to Naic in an almost unbroken line, approximately parallel to the coast.

They were doubled and trebled in front of villages or towns and across the roads.

The trace was en crémaillère, the section being 6 feet thick at the top and 8 feet high, the exterior face vertical, with a revetment of bamboos fastened together with rattans. It was in fact a bank of earth built up against a strong bamboo fence.

The defenders fired through loop-holes left in the parapet, and were very well covered, but they could only fire straight before them and horizontally.

The defences of the towns had thicker and loftier parapets; in some cases there were three tiers of loop-holes properly splayed.

The insurgents were very insufficiently armed, and at first there were ten men to a rifle. The man who was [87]reputed the best shot carried the rifle and cartridge belt, and if he was killed or wounded in an engagement, the next best shot took the weapon and continued the fight. In the early actions there was scarcely ever a rifle left on the ground by the insurgents.

The only cannon the rebels had at first were some ancient brass swivel guns called falconetes or lantácas, which they took from the estate-houses at Imus and Malabon.

They also had some brass mortars like quart pots, which are used for firing salutes on feast days. These they fastened at an angle to blocks of wood, thus making small howitzers, quite effective at short range. They loaded these with the punchings from boiler-plates and broken cooking-pots.

They showed a considerable ingenuity in making cannon out of any materials at hand. They would take a steel boiler-tube, a stay tube for choice, say about three inches bore and a quarter of an inch thick. Plugging up one end and drilling a touch-hole, they would drive this tube into a hole bored in a log of hard wood turned on the outside to a taper, then they drove eight or nine wrought-iron rings over the wood. They drilled through the wood to suit the touch-hole and the gun was ready.

They fitted no trunnions, but mounted this rude cannon upon a solid block of wood.

In other cases they made some wire guns by lapping steel boiler-tubes with telegraph-wire.

Towards the end of the campaign of Lachambre’s division against the rebels, some modern field-pieces of eight centimètres were captured from them, but it is not clear where these came from.

To supplement their scanty stock of rifles, they made some hand-guns of gas-tube. These were fired by applying a match or lighted cigar to the touch-hole, and would seem to be very clumsy weapons. But I may say that when on a visit to the estate of Palpa, in Peru, I saw a Chinaman who was in charge of the poultry corral, kill a hawk hovering, with a similar gun.

The Spanish Military and Naval Authorities now took the revolt very seriously, and on the 8th November the squadron comprising the Castilla, Reina Cristina, and other vessels, and the guns of the forts at Cavite and Puerto Vaga, opened upon the rebel position at Cavite, [88]Viejo, Noveleta, Binancáyan, and other places within range, and kept it up for hours. The next morning the firing was resumed at daylight, supplemented by the guns from launches and boats well inshore. Troops were landed under the protection of the squadron, and advanced against the entrenchments of Binancáyan. They delivered three frontal attacks with great gallantry, reaching the parapet each time, but were beaten back, leaving many dead upon the ground. No flanking attack was possible here for the parapet extended for many miles each way.

A simultaneous attack was made upon Noveleta by a column of 3000 Spanish and native infantry under Colonel Fermin Diaz Mattoni.

This force started from Cavite and marched through Dalahican and along the road to Noveleta. This road is a raised causeway running through a mangrove swamp, having deep mud on each side impassable for troops. This is at least a mile of swamp, and the troops advanced along the causeway and crossed a bridge which spanned a muddy creek.

No enemy was in sight, and the town was not far off. Suddenly the head of the column fell into a most cunningly devised pitfall. The road had been dug out, the pit covered with wattle, and the surface restored to its original appearance. The bottom of the pit was set with pointed bamboo stakes which inflicted serious wounds upon those that fell upon them.

At the moment of confusion the rebels opened a withering fire from concealed positions amongst the mangroves upon the column standing in the open.

The Spaniards and native troops made great efforts to get forward, but could not stand the fire and had to retire. When they got back to the bridge it was down, and they had to wade across the creek under a close fire from the rebels hidden amongst the mangroves. In this action the Spaniards are said to have lost 600 killed and many hundreds wounded. The loss fell principally on the 73rd and 74th Regiments of Native Infantry.

The rebels were greatly encouraged, and got possession of a large number of rifles, with ammunition and accoutrements.

Both these attacks were made under the direction of General Blanco, who witnessed them from a lofty staging erected within the lines of Dalahican. After these disasters [89]he resumed the defensive, except that the squadron and the batteries at Cavite and Puerto Vaga frequently bombarded the rebel positions.

At this time thousands of natives were in prison in Manila awaiting their trial. A permanent court-martial had been organised to try the suspects. Great numbers were shot, and many hundreds were transported to the Caroline Islands, to Ceuta, and Fernando Pó. Wealthy natives were mercilessly blackmailed, and it is reported that those who were discharged had to pay large sums for their release.

The Spanish Volunteers in Manila committed many arbitrary and even outrageous actions, and aroused the hatred of the natives far more than the regular troops did. They allowed their patriotism to carry them into most lamentable excesses.

On the 25th February a rising and mutiny of the Carbineers or Custom-House Guards took place in Manila at the captain of the port’s office. The scheme miscarried and was only partially successful. The officer on duty was shot, and also the sergeant, and the rebels made off with some rifles and ammunition.

The volunteers and some troops hastily called together pursued the rebels through Tondo as far as the Leper Hospital, till nightfall, the last volley being fired at 6.15 P.M. In this affair the mutineers lost a great many men, but some of them got away and joined the rebels.

Blanco had not been severe enough with the rebels or suspected rebels to please the friars. His management of the attacks upon Noveleta and Binancáyan had been faulty, and his health was bad. It was not surprising, having the priests against him, and the military dissatisfied, that he was recalled. He left at the end of 1896. General Polavieja, an officer who had risen from the ranks by his military talents, and who, when serving in Cuba, had very accurately gauged the situation, and had made a remarkably clever report to the government, was sent out to replace Blanco. Polavieja was inexorable with the rebels and their sympathisers. Military executions took place about once a week for two months. Francisco Roxas, a mestizo ship-owner, Numeriano Adriano, and many other mestizos and natives were shot at the Paseo de la Luneta.

On December 6th the prisoners in Cavite jail rose, murdered their jailer, and attempted to escape. One [90]hundred and fifty prisoners were concerned in this affair. Of these, forty-seven were shot in the streets of the town, and twenty-one were captured, whilst thirteen were shot in the bushes behind Cañacao. Those recaptured were tried for prison-breaking, and were all shot the next morning.

By the beginning of 1897, a large number of troops had arrived from Spain. They were, however, largely conscripts, raw youths who had never handled a rifle, mere raw material in fact, sent out without uniform or equipment, many having only what they stood up in, or at most, having a spare shirt and a singlet tied up in a handkerchief. We talk about the shortcomings of our War Office officials, and certainly they sometimes give examples of wooden-headed stupidity, and are behind the age in many particulars. But for deliberate inhumanity, for utter callousness to human suffering, to loss of health and life, I think the Spanish War Office could hardly be outdone. And I speak of their misdeeds from personal knowledge in the Philippines and in Cuba. What an enormous amount of suffering was caused to the working-people of Spain by the sending to Cuba and to the Philippines of over 200,000 men in 1895–96. Never in this generation were men shipped away so destitute of clothing, provisions, surgeons and medical comforts. Never have I seen troops in the field with such wretched equipment, or so devoid of transport, tents, and supplies.

Whatever successes they achieved were secured by the inborn valour of the troops, and by extraordinary exertions on the part of the generals and staff to improvise on the spot what the national treasury should have supplied them with at the commencement of hostilities.

The raw recruits having been drilled and exercised with the rifle were organised in fifteen battalions and called Cazadores (chasseurs). These battalions, with four regiments of native infantry and some native volunteers, were formed into brigades under Generals Cornell, Marina, Jaramillo and Galbis. The first three brigades constituted a division, which was placed under the command of General Lachambre, an officer of great energy, and of long experience in the Cuban wars.

By the beginning of 1897 the Tagal rebellion had concentrated its forces in the province of Cavite. Embers of rebellion still smouldered in other provinces of Luzon, [91]but many rebels from outlying places had thrown in their lot with those of Cavite, and in great numbers, very indifferently supplied with arms and ammunition, but amply with provisions, they confidently awaited the long-prepared attack of the Spanish forces behind the formidable entrenchments that their persevering labour had raised. In the interval they had organised themselves after a fashion, and had instituted a reign of terror wherever they held sway.

The organisation of the rebels in the province of Cavite was of a somewhat confused nature, and seemed to respond to the ambition and influence of particular individuals rather than to any systematic principle.

Thus Silang was declared a vice-royalty under Victor Belarmino, styled Victor I.

The rest of the province was divided into two districts, each ruled by a council; the first was Imus and its vicinity, under Bernardino Aguinaldo with ministers of war, of the treasury, of agriculture and of justice.

The second was San Francisco de Malabon, presided over by Mariano Alvarez, with ministers of state as above.

But above the kingdom of Silang and the two republics, the President of the Katipunan, Andres Bonifacio, held sway as lieutenant of the Generalissimo Emilio Aguinaldo. He resided in his palace at San Francisco, and from there dictated his orders. The supreme power was in the hands of Aguinaldo.

All these authorities exercised despotic power, and certainly ill-treated and robbed their own countrymen who did not desire to join them, far more than the Spaniards have ever done in the worst of times. They frequently inflicted the death-penalty, and their so-called courts-martial no more thought of acquitting an accused person than a regimental court-martial in England would. The terrible President of the Katipunan ultimately became a victim of one of these blood-thirsty tribunals.

Their military organization was curious. The province was sub-divided into military zones. First Silang, second Imus, third Bacoor, fourth San Francisco de Malabon, fifth Alfonso. Each zone had an army which consisted of all the population able to work, and was divided into two parts, the active or fighting force and the auxiliary but non-combatant part. The active force was divided into regiments and companies, and these last into riflemen and spearmen, there being commonly five of the latter to one [92]of the former. Besides the usual military ranks, they instituted the following functionaries:

All the above held the rank of lieutenant-general. The badges of rank were as follows:

The rebels occupied the whole of the province of Cavite, except the fortified town of that name containing the naval arsenal, and a small strip on the shores of the Laguna where the Spanish troops were posted.

Cornell’s brigade was at Calamba and Marina’s brigade at Biñan. They had outlying detachments amounting to 1500 men at Santa Cruz, Santo Domingo, Tayabas, and along the line from Tanáuan to Bañadero, leaving each brigade 4000 men for the advance into the rebel territory. The divisional troops numbered about 1300, making a total of 9300 combatants.

The brigade under Jaramillo had its headquarters in Taal, Batangas Province, with outlying detachments at Batangas, Calacá, Lián Balayan and Punta Santiago, and a force holding the line of the Pansipit River, altogether amounting to 1000 men, leaving 1600 free to operate.

Besides this a fourth brigade, not belonging to the division, having General Galbis as brigadier, was extended along the northern bank of the Zapote River, under the immediate orders of the governor-general. The Lakes of Bay and Bombon (Taal) were guarded by armed steam-launches and other small craft, whilst the gunboats of the squadron patrolled the sea coast. The rebel province was thus held in a grip of iron.

On the 12th February, 1897, General Lachambre reported himself ready to advance. General Polavieja ordered Jaramillo to attack the rebel trenches at Bayuyungan on the 14th, and to keep up the attack until Lachambre had seized Silang, when he was to attack Talisay on the Lake of Taal. The marines at Dalahican were ordered to attack Noveleta, whilst Lachambre was to advance on the 15th, the two brigades taking different routes, but converging on Silang.

The march was extremely difficult, and the nine-centimètre [94]guns were only taken through, at the cost of most strenuous efforts. The enemy tenaciously defended every favourable position, and were only driven off at the cost of many lives.

On the 19th, Silang, one of the principal rebel towns, was taken by assault and at the point of the bayonet, after a preparatory bombardment in which the artillery fired 105 rounds of shell, whilst 25,000 rifle cartridges were used by the infantry.

The rebels lost 2000 men killed and wounded, whilst the Spanish losses were 12 killed and 70 wounded. The town was strongly entrenched and stoutly defended, and its capture with so small a loss may justly be called a creditable operation. Marina’s brigade attacked from the south and Cornell’s brigade from the east.

The action lasted from 7 to 11.30 A.M. The rebels were discouraged, but still, on the 22nd, they delivered an attack as if they would retake the town, and pressed on with great fury. They killed four of the Spaniards and wounded twenty-one, but in the end were driven off, leaving 400 dead on the ground. The houses in Silang were found fully furnished and provisioned. In the house of the so-called Viceroy of Silang, Victor Belarmino, the principal ornament of the sala was a chromo-lithograph portrait of the Queen Regent.

The church-doors were wide open and the altars profusely illuminated. On the sacristy table lay the priestly robes and ornaments, ready, doubtless, for the celebration of a Te Deum for the expected victory. But he who was to wear them, the celebrated Tagal Bishop, lay with a bullet through his heart across the parapet he had fiercely defended.

Lachambre preserved the best houses around the church and convent and utilised them as storehouses, hospital, and barracks, burning the rest of the town as a punishment to the rebels. He then garrisoned and fortified the post and connected it with the telegraph line.

On the 24th Lachambre marched from Silang, his main body advancing by the direct route to Perez Dasmariñas parallel to the River Casundit, a flanking force of three companies guarding the left of the column, whilst Lieutenant Colonel Villalon, with a battalion and a half having started an hour earlier than the main body, took the road to Palimparan, having the Rio Grande on his right, and by [95]his advance protecting the right flank of the column. Villalon advanced rapidly, and, brushing aside all opposition, rushed Palimparan with a loss of one killed and one wounded, killing seven of the rebels in the attack. Here he bivouacked, and at sunset was joined by another force consisting of half a brigade under Colonel Arizon, detached from General Galbis’ force on the Zapote River.

In the meantime the main body had advanced to within three miles of Perez Dasmariñas and bivouacked at the hamlet called Sampalcoc. On the following day Perez Dasmariñas was taken by assault, after a short bombardment by the mountain batteries. The rebels were strongly entrenched, and made a stout resistance. They had flooded the rice fields to the east of the town and rendered them impassable.

The town was attacked from the south and west, but it took hours of hard fighting for the Spaniards to break in, and even then the rebels fought hand to hand, and many preferred death to surrender. Those who fled were taken in flank by Arizon’s force, which approached the northern end of the town from the eastward. The loss of the Spaniards was 21 killed and 121 wounded, whilst the natives left 400 dead at the foot of their defences, and a great number were killed outside the town.

The early part of the defence was directed by Aguinaldo, but he fled when the Spanish forces closed up, leaving Estrella, an ex-sergeant of the Guardia Civil, in his place. Estrella fled later on when the Spaniards had entered the town. Unintimidated by this rude lesson, the rebels that same night fired into the town, and on the 27th they attacked a column which went out to make a reconnaissance towards Palimparan, and gave a mountain battery a chance, which they promptly took, of getting at a dense body of them with case. The artillery fired 22 rounds in this action, and the infantry used 63,000 cartridges. The Spanish loss was two killed and ten wounded, whilst the rebels lost at least 300.

The church, convent, and stone homes round the Plaza of Perez Dasmariñas were loopholed and prepared for defence, and occupied by a garrison of two companies of infantry. Owing, however, to the difficulty of bringing up supplies, the division could not resume its advance till the 7th March. Then the division took the eastern road to Imus, whilst the half brigade under Arizon marched by a [96]parallel road on the right flank, which converged upon the Imus road at Salitran, a village with a large stone estate-house belonging to the Recollets, strongly entrenched and held by the rebels.

On arriving within range two guns of Cornell’s brigade opened fire on the estate-house from an eminence, but after the fifth round the Spanish flag was shown from the house, it having been occupied by Arizon’s force arriving from the east after a very slight resistance, for the rebels seemed to have no one in command. They had prepared for an attack from the east, but when they found the Spaniards arriving in great force upon their right flank, enfilading their strong entrenchments, they became demoralised and took to flight.

The scouts now reported that a formidable entrenchment a mile and a quarter long, was occupied by the rebels about a mile north of the village. This entrenchment, called Anabo II., covered both the roads to Imus, and each flank rested on a deep ravine—the eastern end had a redoubt, and the western end a flanking epaulement.

The ground in front was perfectly open, and there was difficulty in making a flanking attack, so General Zabala, with a half brigade, made a direct attack. The fighting line gradually advanced, taking such cover as the pilápiles of the rice-fields could give, until they arrived within 100 yards of the parapet, when Zabala, waving high his sword, gave the order for the assault, falling a moment after pierced through the breast by a shot from a lantaca. Two captains fell near him, but the lieutenants led their companies to the assault; the cazadores sprang across the ditch and clambered up the high parapet with the agility and fury of leopards, bayoneting those of the defenders who remained to fight it out, and sending volley after volley into those who had taken to flight.

The Spanish loss was 11 killed and 33 wounded, whilst 200 of the rebels were killed. This heavy loss did not however appear to intimidate them in the least, for on the 8th they made two desperate attempts to retake the position, in both of which they came within close range of the Spaniards, who poured repeated volleys into them by word of command, whilst the mountain-guns played upon them with ease. In this action the Spaniards lost 5 killed and 25 wounded, and they calculated the rebel killed at 300. [97]

On the 10th (March) the division marched to Presa-Molino, which was occupied that same evening, and leaving three companies of infantry to guard the position, the division continued its march through a most difficult country, arriving in the afternoon on the Zapote River, in touch with the 4th Brigade, formerly commanded by Galbis and now by Barraquer.

From there Lachambre with his staff rode over to Parañaque, and reported himself to the Captain-General Polavieja.

The troops encamped on the downs of San Nicolas, one brigade on each side of the River Zapote. Notwithstanding the comparatively favourable emplacement of the camp, the troops and their officers suffered severely from the effect of the climate upon frames weakened by over-exertion, by indifferent nourishment and by sleeping on the ground. Malarial fevers, intestinal catarrh, dysentery, and rheumatism sapped their vitality, whilst nostalgia preyed upon the younger soldiers and depressed their spirits. Since the 15th February the division had lost in killed, [98]wounded, and invalided, no less than 135 officers, and troops in greater proportion.

Yet still greater exertions were to be required from the soldiers. The 4th Brigade was incorporated in the division, and two additional battalions, one from the 3rd Brigade and the other from the Independent Brigade, brought the number of combatants nearly up to 12,000.

Having previously made a practicable road by Almansa to Presa Molino and Salitran, defended by redoubts at the most difficult fords, and having organised his transport with such means as the country afforded, Lachambre again set out, his objective being Imus, but the attack was to be from Salitran.

The work of the native engineer soldiers, and of the 74th Native Regiment in constructing this road and the redoubts, merits the highest praise, and it must be admitted that it is almost impossible for an army of white men to carry on a campaign in the Philippines or in similar territory, without the assistance of native pioneer or engineer troops.

The road being ready, and the convoys of provisions having gone forward, on the morning of the 22nd March the division started on its march to Salitran, where it arrived on the evening of the 23rd, having had some sharp skirmishes on the way.

Early on the 24th the division set out for Imus, and once more the formidable trenches and redoubts of Anabo II., restored, strengthened, and crowded with determined defenders, barred their path. These works had once already been taken by assault, and had cost the division the loss of the brave General Zabala and other officers and men.

Protected on each flank by a deep ravine with a river at the bottom, and with open ground in front, the attack had been rendered more difficult by flooding the arable land before the trenches, and the position of the rebels was an exceedingly strong one. Lachambre had to accept a direct attack, but he sent a body of troops forward on each flank to advance simultaneously and overlap the ends of the entrenchment.

The infantry deployed, the firing line advanced under fire without stopping to within three hundred yards of the parapet, when they halted, taking what cover they could and keeping up a steady fire. Then the mountain battery [99]was brought up and fired common shell at close range, breaching the parapet. A rush forward soon brought the firing-line within 150 yards of the parapet. General Marina, watching the engagement well to the front, had one of his staff officers killed at his side; seeing the favourable moment arrive, he gave the order for the assault.

Once more the troops exhibited their conspicuous bravery. The long line, led by its officers, dashed forward with the bayonet, the bugles sounding the charge, and with impetuous speed, soon reached the parapet. However terrible the attack, the stout-hearted Tagals stood firm, disdaining to fly.

Bolo and bayonet clashed, European courage and Malay fury had full play, till in the end, as ever in equal numbers and in stand-up fight, the European prevailed. Many of the defenders fell, the rest sought safety in flight.

The engagement lasted two and a half hours without cessation, and over three hundred rebel dead were counted in or near the works, amongst them was Crispulo Aguinaldo, a brother of General Emilio Aguinaldo. The Spaniards lost 9 killed and 108 wounded.

After a short rest the division resumed the advance upon Imus, and bivouacked after marching about a couple of miles.

On the 25th the advance was continued on a broad front. Scarcely had the division marched for half-an-hour when the leading ranks came in sight of another line of entrenchments more than two miles long, six feet high, and five feet thick, well protected with cane fences in front, one of these being at a distance of 100 yards from the parapet.

Lachambre orders the centre to make a direct attack and the wings a flanking movement. The rebels retain their fire till the Spaniards arrive within two hundred yards, and then the parapet is crowned with flame both from small arms and lantacas. The scene of the day before was repeated, the parapet stormed, with a rebel loss of over six hundred. After a short halt the advance against Imus was resumed. The distance was short, and the appearance of the thousands of bayonets and the explosion of a few shells produced an indescribable panic amongst the inhabitants and the many who had come from other towns to assist in the defence.

They took to flight, disregarding the protests of their [100]leaders Emilio Aguinaldo and Andrés Bonifacio. In order to cover his retreat, the former ordered the magazine to be blown up and the town to be burned. This delayed the advance of the Spaniards in the centre, but the wings moved forward and the thousands of fugitives were exposed to a flanking fire, and more than eight hundred of them bit the dust. It was afternoon before Lachambre could enter what remained of Imus, when as a mark of honour for their splendid services, the colour of the 74th Regiment of Native Infantry was raised upon the tower of the church—all the troops presenting arms and afterwards giving enthusiastic cheers.

Thus was taken the citadel of the Katipunan with a loss to the Spaniards of 25 killed and 129 wounded.

The taking of Imus gave General Polavieja an opportunity of offering an amnesty to the rebels, which he did not neglect. On the 26th of March he issued a proclamation offering pardon to all who had borne arms against the Royal Authority, or who had assisted the rebels, provided they presented themselves before Palm Sunday the 11th of April. Leaders of the rebels were to present themselves with their forces and arms.

On the 26th March the division, leaving a garrison in Imus, started for Bacoor to take the defences in reverse, and such was the effect on the rebels of their defeat at Imus and of the advance in overwhelming force, that they fled, and the division occupied Bacoor almost without firing a shot.

It was otherwise with Binacayan, for Marina’s Brigade having made a reconnaissance in force on the 28th, were received with a heavy fire, and after an hour’s skirmish in which some were killed on each side, they returned to their camp at Bacoor; Lachambre considering that an attack in that direction would result in a useless waste of life, for the advance would be along narrow causeways across swamps. Having received provisions and ammunition by sea from Manila, he returned with his division to Imus, the garrison of which had not been molested by the rebels.

At daylight on the 31st March, the division left Imus and marched across country in a westerly and southerly direction, fording numerous streams running at the bottom of deep ravines, as well as many irrigating canals and ditches. Soon after the start the right flank was fired upon, the fire increasing as the column moved forward. The [101]engineers had to improve the approaches to the fords of the Rivers Julian and Batong Dalig under fire.

The leading brigade carried several entrenchments on its front and flank without halting, but extending skirmishes on either flank to beat off the enemy. The rear brigade was attacked on both flanks and had to fight a rearguard action as well. The division bivouacked for the night at Bacao, a point from which it threatened the rebel towns of San Francisco, Santa Cruz, Rosario and Noveleta, all within easy reach.

The losses on the day’s march were 6 killed and 37 wounded, whilst 400 rebel killed were counted on open ground, and many must have fallen amongst the bushes and trees.

They, however, were not at all dismayed, and surrounded the bivouac at night, firing repeated volleys and engaging the outposts.

On the following day (1st April), the division with all its baggage crossed the River Ladron, and took up a position in the centre of a large tract of rice-fields, having Noveleta on the north, San Francisco on the south, Rosario and Santa Cruz to the west, and San Antonio on the east. San Antonio was first taken by assault after the parapet had been breached by the fire of two batteries of mountain guns. The fugitive Tagals who escaped with their lives took refuge in Noveleta.

The situation was now as follows: Arizon’s Brigade threatened Noveleta, Marina’s Brigade threatened Rosario and Sarralde’s Brigade attacked Santa Cruz—the baggage being in the centre and out of fire.

At this moment a dense mass of the enemy issuing from San Francisco, made a desperate attack upon the Spaniards nearest to them.

The whole of the division with its twelve guns, was now in action and surrounded by the enemy, Lachambre in the centre keenly watching the fight. When he judged the right moment had arrived, he ordered Arizon’s Brigade to storm Noveleta.

The Brigade greeted this order with thundering shouts of “Viva España,” and with the pluck that has always distinguished the Spanish soldier when well led, carried the entrenchments at a run, and fought a hand to hand combat with the defenders, who were either killed or driven out, notwithstanding that these were the very best of the rebel [102]troops, amongst them being many of Aguinaldo’s Guards, wearing a special uniform, some of them having served in the native regiments. Here, again, the 74th Native Infantry distinguished themselves by their remarkable bravery, and once more their colour was displayed from the church tower as a recognition of their valuable and loyal services.

The capture of Noveleta placed the division in communication with the marines occupying the entrenchments of Dalahican.

This action cost the division 11 killed and 58 wounded, but many hundreds of the rebels were killed.

In consequence of this, the rebels abandoned Cavite, Viejo, and Binacayan, which were occupied the following day without resistance.

The rebels, however, on the 4th, and again on the 5th, attacked the troops in Noveleta and sustained the combat for some time, killing 10 and wounding 33 Spanish, but leaving 50 of their own dead on the ground.

On the 6th the division marched from Noveleta, which was occupied by a garrison of marines, and took the direction of San Francisco, the advanced guard in extended order across the same open ground upon which the engagement of April 1st was fought. The rebel positions on the right flank were marked by lines of skirmishers with their supports and reserves. The Tagals had, however, inundated the part of this plain immediately in front of the town, and the advance was made with great difficulty; the guns and ammunition boxes having to be carried by the gunners with the assistance of the infantry. With undaunted bravery the troops struggled on under a heavy fire, but Lachambre, realising the difficulty and the danger incurred, changed the direction of the advance. The right wing under Arizon inclined to the right, and the left, under Marina, bore away to the left. Half a brigade crossed the River Ladron, notwithstanding the opposition of the rebels, and attacked the town from the east. Firmer ground was soon reached, the guns that had cost so much labour taking up, were mounted, and a rain of shell soon fell amongst the rebels. The infantry poured in steady volleys, advancing in the intervals of firing. The whole combined attack being within a proper distance for the final rush, Lachambre gave the word, and like greyhounds released, the Spanish and native infantry leaped to the assault. The parapet [103]was high and deep the ditch, for the defenders had not spared their labour on it, and as the Spanish line reached the edge, the rebels boldly mounted the parapet and discharged their arms at close quarters. In this critical moment the moral superiority of the white man once more was manifest. The Spanish troops reached the parapet and a hand-to-hand combat with the bolder rebels took place, the bayonet against the spear or bolo. The less-determined of the enemy fled, and in a few minutes 120 Tagals lay dead against the parapet, and five guns and eighty rifles remained as trophies to the victors. The companies re-formed for the pursuit, but the enemy fired the thatched huts to interpose a curtain of flame between them and their pursuers; a measure which was only partially successful, for some of the troops, nimbly darting through the lanes, shot down or bayoneted many of the fugitives, killing 400 in the pursuit, besides those who died at the entrenchments. The Spanish loss was 25 killed and 125 wounded, including several officers. The fighting had lasted four hours over very difficult ground, and the troops were exhausted. Lachambre therefore camped in the town, which has many fine edifices and a spacious, church and convent. The bells of the church, in a joyful peal, announced the Spanish triumph. The rebels were under the command of Andrés Bonifacio, the President of the formidable Katipunan. This terrible blow to the insurrection was followed by the occupation of the towns of Santa Cruz and Rosario, without firing a shot.

Many of the natives had joined the rebellion under compulsion, and had long desired to submit themselves. Now they came in by hundreds every day to claim the amnesty offered by General Polavieja.

Fifty-two days had the campaign lasted, fifty-seven combats had taken place, and the total loss of the division was 1 general, 14 officers, and 168 men killed, and 56 officers and 910 men wounded. Probably a far larger number died or were invalided from disease, induced by the fatigue, exposure and privations inseparable from such a campaign, especially as most of the men were mere youths, raw recruits, and with little possibility of taking care of themselves, even if they knew how. Notwithstanding the excessive fatigue and the depressing nature of the surroundings, the Spanish troops maintained a fine martial spirit, and ever showed themselves ready to respond [104]to the calls made upon them. They were well led by their officers, who devoted themselves unsparingly in their country’s service, and they had confidence in their generals, who were untiring in their exertions to do their best for their men. Lachambre displayed the greatest solicitude for the well-being of the force under his command; whilst showing the utmost resolution, and pushing his attacks home in every case, yet he sacrificed his men as little as possible, and always had patience to wait till his flanking attacks could join in the assault. The distances the division had to traverse were very small, but the absence of roads and bridges made the provisioning of the army a matter of the utmost difficulty.

Those who know the poverty of the Spanish Army in animals, vehicles, and stores, will understand what Lachambre and his staff accomplished. On the 12th April, 1897, the division was broken up, and the brigades were stationed at various places in Cavite and the neighbouring provinces.

The general, brigadiers, officers, and troops, are fortunate in having as chronicler of their exploits, so painstaking and appreciative an officer as Lieut.-Colonel Don Federico de Monteverde y Sedano, who in his book, ‘La Division Lachambre,’ published in 1898, gives a detailed account of the campaign, with sketches illustrative of the various actions. Señor Monteverde does justice to every Spaniard, from the divisional-general downwards. I could wish he had said something more about the services of the 73rd and 74th Regiments of Native Infantry, who seem to have been always in the forefront of the battle and where the hardest work was being done, as in assisting the magnificent engineer corps, without whom I doubt if the campaign could have been successful. His book, however, is invaluable to those who may have to conduct operations in the Philippines, and the invariable success achieved by Lachambre, contrasts remarkably with the failures in the early part of the rebellion, and one cannot help seeing a parallel between this little war and the greater one in South Africa. Each was mismanaged at the beginning, but as soon as the invading forces were organised in one command, success was achieved.

A few days after the breaking up of the division, General Polavieja embarked for Spain, very much broken in health. In a letter written on the 9th March to the [105]Minister of War, Polavieja declared himself too ill to ride and asked for his relief. He, however, still remained at Parañaque, directing the campaign till after the capture of San Francisco.

The Spanish press took sides for or against him, the papers advocating the interests of the friars praised him, whilst the Liberal press held him up to ridicule.

There is no doubt that he directed the military operations in an efficient manner, but under his government the arbitrary arrests, cruelties, and tortures, inflicted upon all who were suspected of being sympathisers with the rebels, or from whom money would be extorted, that had begun under Blanco, continued and increased. For Blanco, having been informed of the cruelties inflicted, issued an order forbidding the practice.

The next governor-general was General Primo de Rivera, who had held that office from 1880 to 1883, and had found it a very profitable one. He arrived on the 23rd April and went to the front on the 29th; on the 4th May, Naic was taken, also a small place called Quintana, and Indang. At Naic there was very heavy fighting, and some at Indang.

The troops then advanced to Maragondón, which was taken on the 10th after a most stubborn resistance, the Spaniards losing many men and the rebels still more heavily.

This place was the last where the rebels made a stand, in Cavite province. After this defeat they dispersed in roving bands and kept on the move.

The whole province was a scene of desolation, towns burnt, churches bombarded, stone houses blown up, property looted, putrefying bodies lying about in hundreds, the fields laid waste, the cattle driven off, the country depopulated, a remnant of the inhabitants hiding in the woods; a few of the bolder ones returned to the ruined houses. Such was the result of this unhappy rebellion.

I have this description from an eye-witness, and he assured me that he had been told by a colonel commanding one of the most distinguished regiments engaged in the campaign, that not less than 30,000 natives lost their lives in that province alone during the rebellion.

The rebels gave no quarter to Spaniards, and the Spaniards only occasionally took prisoners. However, once [106]taken they were usually released after being exhorted to return to their homes.

Whilst the operations of Lachambre’s division were proceeding in Cavite, General Monet, with a force of 3000 men, was carrying on an indiscriminate butchery of men, women, and children, in Bulacan and Pampanga, but he displayed no military qualities, and ultimately escaped, leaving his forces to surrender.

The Spanish Volunteers in Manila continued their series of abominable outrages, although in August, Primo de Rivera issued a decree forbidding intimidation, plundering and ravishing. He was ultimately obliged to disband them.

Driven out of Cavite, the remnant of the rebels under Aguinaldo took refuge in the hills and held a strong position near Angat, in the province of Bulacan. As it would have taken a long time to reduce them, Primo de Rivera tried conciliation, and employed Don Pedro Paterno, a native gentleman of means, who had been educated in Spain, as mediator. By his instrumentality, an arrangement was arrived at which, after being approved by the Government in Madrid, was signed by the mediator as attorney for the rebels and the governor-general for Spain.

This, known as the pact of Biak-na-bato, was signed on December 14th, 1897.

In consequence, Aguinaldo and a number of the prominent rebels were escorted to Hong Kong by a relative of the governor-general, and there received a sum of $400,000, being the first instalment of the sum agreed upon.

They lived in a quiet and economical manner upon their own resources. They did not divide the indemnity nor convert it to their own use, but kept it as a war fund in case of need.

The event showed the wisdom of this course, for Primo de Rivera had led them to understand that an amnesty and reforms were to follow, but, apparently, had caused the Spanish Government to look upon the arrangement in a very different light, and he subsequently denied that any treaty existed. No reforms were ever granted, and things in Luzon went on in the same old way. The friars joined in raising a large subscription for Primo de Rivera, and this seemed to incline him more favourably towards them.

The amnesty was disregarded, and the priests continued their arbitrary courses against those who had been concerned [107]in the rebellion. Bands of marauders infested the provinces and the country was in a very unsettled state, some insurgent bands approaching Cavite.

On March 24th, the 74th Regiment of Native Infantry in garrison at that town, the regiment that had distinguished itself so remarkably in Lachambre’s division, being always in the front, was ordered to march out against them. Whatever the reason, whether they felt that their splendid services had not been duly acknowledged, or, as is likely, their pay was months in arrears, they refused to march against their own countrymen. Eight corporals were called out of the ranks and shot then and there in the presence of the regiment, which was again ordered to advance, and a threat made that a refusal would mean death to all.

All did refuse and were sent to barracks to await sentence. The next morning the entire regiment with arms and equipment, marched out and deserted in a body to the insurgents, saying they were willing to fight the foreign enemies of Spain, but not against their own friends. The following day another regiment joined them, but I have no note of its number.

It was now that an event occurred in Manila that showed how little desire there was amongst the Spaniards to treat the natives with ordinary justice, much less to conciliate them.

This was the massacre of the Calle de Camba, quite a short distance from the American Consulate, and it was perpetrated on the 25th and 26th of March. On the first of those day a number of Visayan sailors from the vessels in the Pasig had assembled in a house in the above street, which was their usual resort.

Somehow the story got about that an illegal assembly was being held, and the police, without more ado, attacked the meeting and shot down a dozen, taking sixty-two prisoners. The next morning the whole of these prisoners were marched to the cemetery, and all shot, though many them were known to have been merely passing by at the time.

This is vouched for by Mr. Oscar F. Williams in an official letter to Mr. Cridler, dated 27th March, 1898. It could hardly have been a mere coincidence that a revolt of the Visayas broke out about ten days later, when they made a desperate attack upon the city of Cebú in which many lives were lost and much property damaged. [108]

It seems hardly worth while to relate any more instances of Tagal revenge or Spanish brutality. The country that had been almost pacified was now again in revolt and amongst the insurgents were two battalions of well-trained and veteran troops.

But now events were impending of transcendent importance—the Spanish-American War had broken out.

Previously, however, Primo de Rivera left Manila to return to Spain, but before going he granted an amnesty to all who had tortured suspected persons to extort evidence from them.

Some of the victims had died under torture rather than bear witness against their friends, for the Tagal is a Stoic after the manner of the Red Indian. Others survive, mere wrecks, maimed for life, and living mementoes of Spanish cruelty.

Torture for extracting evidence from suspected persons is illegal in all Christian countries and their dependencies, and also in Japan, but has not yet been entirely routed out in British India nor in Egypt. In 1897, four cases of police torture in the North-West Provinces and Oudh, ended in convictions.

In Spain, some police officers are now on their trial for applying the thumb-screw to the fingers of anarchist prisoners in the Castle of Monjuich with such severity, that one of them, a railway porter, lost the use of his hands and arms. And Ysabelo de los Reyes, a native of Ilocos, declares that he was tortured in the same prison by thirst, having been fed upon salt food and deprived of water.

Last March (1900), a captain of police was tried at Sambor, in Austrian Galicia, for torturing prisoners with the thumb-screw and by deprivation of food, and was sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. In Corea, China, and Siam, torture forms part of the legal procedure before sentence, to say nothing of the various and lingering deaths the judge may order after the prisoner has confessed. Let us hope that now there will be no more of it in the Philippines. [109]

Not a few of the natives in arms were, and still are, sincere admirers of the true greatness of the United States. The noble deeds and words of America’s great men attain the summit of human grandeur in their fervid imaginations.

The statesmen and the historians of the great Republic receive their tribute of praise from Filipino lips.

The names of Washington, Lincoln, Prescott, Motley, are known and honoured by them. Were the natives treated according to the immortal principles of right and justice laid down or praised by such as these, they would welcome the tutelage, and, in fact, all Asia might envy them.

But they will never consent to become the prey of the politician, the boss, the monopolist, and the carpet-bagger, and from these they must be assured of protection before they will submit.

What confidence can they have in a form of government under which the tariffs on their great staples will be made in the interests of their American competitors.

Under such a system, and with a pension list steadily growing by millions of dollars year by year, their comfortable competence would, in a few years, be reduced to the hideous poverty of over-taxed British India.

Having passed so many years amongst this people, I may be expected to give some opinion as to whether the Philippines can be governed by America. [125]

The islands were badly governed by Spain, yet Spaniards and natives lived together in great harmony, and I do not know where I could find a colony in which the Europeans mixed as much socially with the natives. Not in Java, where a native of position must dismount to salute the humblest Dutchman. Not in British India, where the Englishwoman has now made the gulf between British and native into a bottomless pit.

It will be difficult for the Americans to avoid this social ostracism of the natives, and in this respect they are not likely to do as well as the Spaniards, being less tolerant.

As regards the administration of the government, no doubt great improvements can be made; but I abstain from prophecy, remembering Merritt’s and Foreman’s want of success in that line. There is certainly a wonderful opportunity to show the world how to govern a tropical protectorate or dependency.

So rich a country with so intelligent and industrious a population only requires good guidance to make it an earthly paradise. But the guidance should be given by the gentle hand of an elder sister, and not by the boot of a frontier ruffian.

Much as our officials praise the administration of the Indian Empire, I think it quite possible with a few years of disinterested tutelage to weld the Philippines into a nation, more united, freer, happier, richer and better educated, than the finest state in that vast possession. What is wanted is The Man, no stubborn and tactless general “spoiling for a fight,” harsh, peremptory, overbearing, but a civilian of the highest rank, or a naval officer, one of America’s very best, full of sympathy, tact and patience, yet firm as Stonewall Jackson. He must have a gracious presence, and “magnetism” in the highest degree, for he must rule by personal influence, by inspiring confidence and affection.

Not otherwise did Rajah Brooke obtain his election to the sovereignty of Sarawak; Sir Andrew Clarke pacify the Malay Peninsula; nor is it otherwise that Hugh Clifford is leading the Malays of North Borneo to peaceful pursuits.

The man, when found, must be invested with absolute power, and be backed up by all the forces of the Republic.

The British Government gave America an example of what to avoid when it sacrificed Governor Eyre, of Jamaica, to a shrieking gang of pseudo-philanthropists, when, in a great emergency, whilst the honour of white women and [126]the lives of men were at the mercy of a mob of negroes, he omitted some legal technicality before hanging one of the cowardly instigators.

However, I do not think America will go back on her sons like that.

Great Britain has produced some men who could have taken up the burden of the Philippines. It happens that the three I shall cite were all soldiers, but their extraordinary magnetic qualities by no means proceeded from their profession.

The God-like man who died at Delhi, the beloved of John Lawrence, would have made an ideal ruler: the people would have worshipped him.

The hero who died at Khartoum could have ruled the Philippines, or any Asiatic or African country, and the people would have loved him.

To quote one who is still with us, Lord Cromer has coped with difficulties of a different kind, yet, perhaps, as great as those of the Philippines, and in a few years has changed the face of the land of Pharaoh, and lightened the lot of millions. This has been done by the assistance of a few engineers, administrators, judges and soldiers. He and all of them have displayed the most unfailing tact and patience, indomitable courage and fortitude, and each has put honour and duty before all. Men like John Nicholson, Charles Gordon and Evelyn Baring, are rare, but their peers doubtless exist amongst Americans of the good old colonial stock, and it is the President’s business to find them, and send them out to protect and govern America’s great dependency.

America has, I suppose, taken these islands from Spain to save them from the ruthless1 Teuton, and to show the world that she can do for the Philippines what we have done for Egypt. Unfortunately, she began wrong by treating with Spain, and buying the islands, as if the natives were cattle on a ranch.

Then the Peace Committee went wrong over the estates of the Religious Orders, as before explained.

In my opinion, the form of government should be a protectorate, varying in character with the civilisation of the different islands, the executive functions being in the hands of the natives whenever possible, but under inspection [127]to prevent abuses. On this basis peace could, I think, be made, and then America should remember that the most worthy of the natives are precisely those who have been in arms for their freedom. Their chiefs (with one or two exceptions), are the men who should be appointed to govern provinces, and the fighting-men enrolled in the native army.

No offices of government should be given to the so-called Americanistas, who are mostly people who need not be taken into account, and whose support is worth nothing. They will go on with their pettifogging and their pawnbroking, and that is enough reward for them. They are Americanistas because they cannot help themselves, and not from any attachment to American ways. Formerly the Spaniards protected them; now the American bayonets stand between them and the Tagal bolos.

Without this, well they know that what happened to the mulattos in Hayti would surely happen to them sooner or later—perhaps sooner.

It is, indeed, sad to see what is, and to think what might have been accomplished by a little patience, a little forbearance, a tinge of sympathy, for a gallant people struggling for freedom and light. But no patience was vouchsafed to them, no forbearance was shown them, nor can I discover in what has been done the faintest sign of sympathy for them.

Yet the Malay race can claim to have enlisted the sympathies of some not undistinguished men. Rajah Brooke, Spenser St. John, Hugh Clifford, Professor Blumentritt, Louis Becke, Joseph Conrad—the names that first occur to me—have all confessed to an affection for them. The old Spanish conquerors speak of their dignified courtesy and gentle manners.

There are, however, in America, generous souls who can judge the Tagals fairly and even indulgently. I do not allude to those who raise a clamour to discredit the administration for political purposes, but to the noble, eloquent, and truly patriotic speech, inspired in the best traditions of the United States, delivered by Mr. Hoar in the Senate on April 17th. I hope that touching appeal to the national conscience will bear fruit, and that, by the exercise of true statesmanship, an end may be put to this dreadful war, and a pacification effected satisfactory to Filipinos and Americans. [128]

For four long years, slaughter and destruction have ravaged one of the fairest lands on earth, converting what might be a paradise into a pandemonium.

What evils have these poor Tagals not suffered in that time? Arbitrary imprisonment, torture, confiscation of property, banishment to unhealthy places, military executions, bombardments, the storming and burning of towns, indiscriminate slaughter, and the bubonic plague, added to the calamities they are always exposed to—volcanic eruptions, floods, earthquakes, typhoons, locusts, epidemics.

Famine seems to be the only calamity they have been free from, but even that may not be far distant. [129]

During the three and a quarter centuries the Spaniards have held the Philippines, the forests of Luzon have supplied enormous quantities of the finest timber for building houses, churches, convents, bridges, warships, lighters and canoes. No care has ever been taken to replant, and the consequence is that at this day long logs of many kinds most wanted are not obtainable, all the large trees of valuable timber have long ago been cut, and only in the most distant and least accessible places are any worth having to be found.

The greatest nonsense is talked about the value of the Philippine forests, but in fact it is only in the fever-stricken Island of Mindoro, and in certain parts of Palawan and Mindanao, that any large and valuable trees can be found.

Labour is a great difficulty; wood-cutters are scarce, and they are a wild, unruly lot; only men inured to such a rough life can resist the malaria of the woods, and even they are occasionally down with fever.

Chinamen would not venture into the forests, and only the natives of each district are available, as they do not care to go far from their houses. In order to engage them it is necessary to make them advances of money which it will seldom be possible to recover. A good deal of tact is required in dealing with the cutters, they are very independent and will not put up with abuse. A considerable capital is required to give advances to, and feed these men, also for buying buffaloes, which die unless good care is taken of them. [140]

If a cutter can be found who has buffaloes of his own, it is better to hire them with him, as then they are sure to be taken care of.

The dragging the large logs to a river or port can only be done by teams of buffaloes. The conditions prevailing prevent the employment of chutes, wire ropes and winding engines, or tram-lines.

The valuable trees do not grow together in numbers as in the forests of California and Oregon, but are found at considerable distances from each other. It is therefore only possible to commence the use of mechanical conveyance at the spot where the logs can be assembled by animal labour. Even so, the number of logs from any district will be so small that it will hardly pay to lay down a tramway.

The logs are squared in the woods and the butt ends are rounded like the runners of a sleigh, two holes are chopped at the top corners with a small adze called a palacol, through which rattans are passed for the buffaloes to be yoked to. They are then dragged down to the river or sea. The wood is too heavy to float, and bundles of bamboos are attached to it to give it buoyancy.

The idea of putting up saw-mills in the forests is absurd—for the reason given above.

The wood is very hard and tough, and specially made machinery is required to work it.

The framing must be heavier, the feed lighter, and the teeth of the saws much smaller and with less set. I have had some excellent machinery and saws specially made in England for this purpose, by Thomas Robinson & Son of Rochdale, but I sent home logs of the woods required to be worked, for the saws, planers, and moulding cutters to be made to suit. The ordinary sawing machinery as shown in trade catalogues would be of no use at all.

The whole business is extremely risky, it requires a manager, immune to jungle fever, a man of great vigour yet patient and tactful. Such a man, understanding the native ways, would probably succeed after years of hard and dangerous work; but I warn any one thinking of taking up this business that in Luzon valuable trees are few and far between, and distant from port or river, whilst in other islands where there are timber trees they stand there because no one could ever be induced to go and cut them. [141]

As for exporting these timbers to the United States or other places, there is no need to do that, for demand for timber in Manila and other towns is greater than the supply, and iron construction is increasing in consequence.

Oregon or Norway pine is of no use for building purposes in the Philippines, for it would be devoured within a year or two by the anay (white ants). I am told, however, that in spite of warnings the United States military authorities have constructed stables and storehouses of this timber.

I think it quite useless to mention the names of the different Philippine timbers, as those who take an interest in them can purchase the ‘Manual de Maderero’ (Wood-cutters’ Manual) and obtain all the information they require from it.

Molave is the most important, being proof against the white ants, and almost imperishable. Ypil and yacal are splendid woods for large roofs. They can be obtained long enough for tie-beams, even for wide spans, and excellent roof-frames can be made by bolting them together.

On the Zambales mountains and in Benguet and Lepanto there are forests of coniferæ. When the Manila-Dagupan Railway was being built, I had some sample sleepers brought down from thence. They were quite suitable, but could only be used if thoroughly creosoted, as otherwise they would merely provide food for the white ants. As there are no gasworks in the Islands, creosote could not be produced, nor would it pay to import it from Hong Kong or elsewhere on account of the freight and duties.

There is no market in the islands for pine and no one cuts the trees. They are not of great size. The Igorrotes burn them to clear the land for planting.

True ebony is not found in the forests, but a very handsome and heavy wood, called Camagon, is the nearest approach to it, being dark-brown nearly black, streaked with bright yellow. It is found of larger size than ebony and is sold by the pound.

Teak has often been reported to exist and samples of the alleged teak have been shown to me. On comparing them with teak from Rangoon a considerable difference was noted and the characteristic odour was absent. My own impression is that there is no teak in the Philippines. I have paid two dollars a cubic foot for teak in Manila and [142]if there was any to be had, this price would, I think, have fetched it out.

As for such jungle produce as gum-damar, canes, and rattans, if the reader will refer to my remarks on Palawan he will see that the most valuable products are mostly worked out, and that in any case this is not white man’s business.

There is, however, one branch that, in view of increasing scarcity and rising price, should be carefully looked after by the Philippine Administration; I refer to the collection of gutta-percha in Mindanao. This caused quite a boom for a short time, but as usual the Chinamen got hold of the stuff and mixed it with various kinds of rubbish, so that it was soon discredited in the European market.

An official of high-standing might be appointed to the double office of Protector of the Natives, and Conservator of the Forests in Mindanao, and rules for collecting the gutta without destroying the trees should be prepared and enforced by personal visits from the conservator and his deputies, to whom all the gutta should be handed, being paid for in cash. This would probably yield a large revenue to the Government and greatly benefit the natives, for they might receive half the value of the gutta instead of the minute fraction the Chinese now give them.

The reader who has perused the previous remarks will no longer be liable to be caught by tales of the fabulous riches of the Philippine forests. And, above all, he should keep clear of any companies that may be formed to exploit them. Energetic and tactful individuals may succeed, but the success will be due to personal qualities, and will be contemporaneous with that gifted party and disappear with him. This is what happened to the “Laguimanoc Saw Mills and Timber Company” as soon as the founder left.

A large proportion of the jungle produce of Mindanao, Palawan, and the smaller Southern Islands is smuggled away by the Chinese traders to Sandakan or Singapore.

All that appears in the Table of Exports is two or three hundred tons of gum copal shipped each year from Manila. [143]

It is a great mistake to suppose that nothing is known of the geology and mineralogy of the Philippines, or that no attempts have been made to exploit them.

The maps of the Archipelago are marked in dozens or hundreds of places, coal, copper, lead, iron, gold, and a number of works treating of the subject have been published. Amongst the authors are the mining engineers, Don Enrique Abella and Don José Centeno. But some of their most important reports are still in manuscript, for the revenues of the Philippines were almost entirely absorbed in paying the salaries of the officials, and there was a great disinclination to spend money in any other way.

At the Philippine Exhibition, held at Madrid in 1887, [144]more than seven hundred specimens of auriferous earths or sand, gold quartz, and ores of various metals were shown, and in this branch alone there were 109 exhibitors from all parts of the Archipelago.

Besides ores there were the tools and utensils used by the miners, and models of the furnaces and forges in which the metals were reduced and worked, with the metals in different stages of concentration or manufacture, and a complete show of the finished products.

A great many Mining Companies have been formed in Spain or in Manila at different times which have all failed from a variety of causes, want of skill, bad management, costly administration, or because the richness of the vein or seam had been exaggerated.

The difficulty of getting labour is considerable, as mining is a work the generality of natives do not care to take up, although in some provinces they are used to it, for example, in Camarines Norte and in Surigao.

Employers seem to forget that the ordinary food of a native, rice and fish, is not sufficiently nourishing to enable him to do hard and continuous work, such as is required in mining. A higher rate of pay than the current wage is essential, to allow the miner to supply himself with an ample ration of beef or pork, coffee and sugar, and provision should be made for him to be comfortably housed.

In this complaint of want of labour it is not always the native who is to blame, and if a mine cannot afford to pay a reasonable price for labour, it had better stand idle.

Probably the one great reason why mines have not prospered in the Philippines is that there has never been slavery there, as in Cuba, Peru, Mexico, Brazil, ancient Egypt, and other great mining countries, where whole populations have been used up to minister to the avarice of their fellow-men.

Names of some Metals in Tagal.

[145]