This is a modern-English version of The Philippine Islands, 1493-1898, Volume 38, 1674-1683: Explorations by early navigators, descriptions of the islands and their peoples, their history and records of the Catholic missions, as related in contemporaneous books and manuscripts, showing the political, economic, commercial and religious conditions of those islands from their earliest relations with European nations to the close of the nineteenth century, originally written by unknown author(s). It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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Original Title Page.

The Philippine Islands, 1493–1898

Explorations by early navigators, descriptions of the islands and their peoples, their history and records of the catholic missions, as related in contemporaneous books and manuscripts, showing the political, economic, commercial and religious conditions of those islands from their earliest relations with European nations to the close of the nineteenth century,

Volume XXXVIII, 1674–1683
Edited and annotated by Emma Helen Blair and James Alexander Robertson with historical introduction and additional notes by Edward Gaylord Bourne.
The Arthur H. Clark Company
Cleveland, Ohio
1906

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CONTENTS OF VOLUME XXXVIII

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ILLUSTRATIONS

  • Map of Manila and its suburbs; photographic facsimile from original MS. (dated 1671) in Archivo General de Indias, Sevilla        45
  • The Philippine Islands; photographic facsimile of map drawn by Captain John Kempthorne, ca. 1688; (evidently from earlier map of 1676); from original manuscript map in the British Museum        95
  • Map of portion of Philippine Islands; drawn by William Hacke, ca. 1680; photographic facsimile from original manuscript map in the British Museum        213
  • Inhabitants of the Ladrones Islands; photographic facsimile of engraving in T. de Bry’s Peregrinationes, 1st ed. (Amsterdam, 1602), tome xvi, no. iv, p. 34; from copy in Boston Public Library        257

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PREFACE

The present volume (1674–83) is partly descriptive of the Philippines, as seen by the quaint Dominican writer Navarrete; and about half of it is occupied with the insurrections by the Filipino natives in the seventeenth century, a topic of special importance in regard to the relations between the natives and their conquerors, and to the influence of the missionaries.

The current volume (1674–83) is partly a description of the Philippines, as viewed by the unique Dominican writer Navarrete; and about half of it focuses on the uprisings by the Filipino natives in the seventeenth century, a subject that is particularly significant for understanding the relationships between the natives and their conquerors, as well as the impact of the missionaries.

Resuming the relation by Navarrete (begun in the preceding volume), we find an account of the fall of Fajardo’s favorite Venegas; of various dangers from which the writer escapes; etc. He praises at length the excellent qualities and abilities of Governor Manrique de Lara. He relates a missionary trip to Luban and Mindoro, and describes those islands, their products, and their people. Navarrete is stationed in a curacy in Mindoro, and relates some of his experiences therein. Having returned to Manila, he goes to Bataan, where he and others are grievously annoyed by goblins or demons, for several months. He goes again to Mindoro, with another priest, and while there a threatened attack by pirates sends the Indians in flight to the hills, which compels the fathers to return to Manila. Navarrete relates the loss of several galleons by storms. He [10]laments the cruelty with which the Spaniards treat the natives in the labor of shipbuilding, and says that “at times, religious are sent to protect and defend them from the infernal fury of some Spaniards.” Then he describes Manila and the products of Luzón, in sketchy but enthusiastic fashion. He mentions with surprise the number of Chinese, besides mestizos and natives, who are maintained for the service of the Spanish colony there. The Chinese are, in religious matters, under the care of the Dominicans. Navarrete enumerates many prominent persons in Manila whom he knew, both laymen and ecclesiastics; and describes the hospitable and pious treatment accorded to the Japanese Christians (some of them lepers) who were exiled to Manila. He decides to leave the islands, and goes (1653) to Macasar; the hardships and perils of that voyage are vividly related. Buffeted by fierce storms, the vessel does not arrive at its destination until nine months after leaving Manila—some two months being spent at a Malay village on the northern coast of Celebes, where the Spanish passengers on the vessel suffer greatly from hunger. They finally reach Macasar, where Navarrete spends several years, in 1658 departing for Macao, to enter the Chinese missions. His narrative, although rambling and sketchy, is fresh and picturesque; and it indicates a keen and shrewd observer, and a man intelligent, enthusiastic, outspoken, and humane.

Resuming the account by Navarrete (started in the previous volume), we find a story about the downfall of Fajardo’s favorite, Venegas, and various dangers that the writer manages to escape. He extensively praises the excellent qualities and skills of Governor Manrique de Lara. He recounts a missionary journey to Luban and Mindoro, describing those islands, their resources, and their inhabitants. Navarrete is based in a parish in Mindoro and shares some of his experiences there. After returning to Manila, he travels to Bataan, where he and others are seriously bothered by goblins or demons for several months. He goes back to Mindoro with another priest, and while there, a looming pirate attack causes the locals to flee to the hills, forcing the fathers to return to Manila. Navarrete reports the loss of several galleons due to storms. He [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]complains about the cruelty with which the Spaniards treat the natives in shipbuilding labor, mentioning that “sometimes, religious are sent to protect and defend them from the hellish wrath of some Spaniards.” He then describes Manila and the products of Luzón in a brief but enthusiastic manner. He expresses surprise at the number of Chinese, along with mestizos and natives, who are present to serve the Spanish colony there. In terms of religion, the Chinese fall under the care of the Dominicans. Navarrete lists many notable people in Manila he knew, both laypeople and clergy, and describes the kind and pious treatment given to Japanese Christians (some being lepers) who were exiled to Manila. He decides to leave the islands and heads to Macasar in 1653; he vividly describes the hardships and dangers of that journey. Struck by intense storms, the ship does not reach its destination until nine months after departing from Manila—spending about two months at a Malay village on the northern coast of Celebes, where the Spanish passengers suffer greatly from hunger. They finally arrive in Macasar, where Navarrete spends several years before departing for Macao in 1658 to join the Chinese missions. His narrative, though meandering and brief, is vivid and colorful, showcasing him as a keen observer and an intelligent, enthusiastic, outspoken, and humane individual.

The Dominican procurator-general at Madrid represents to the Spanish government (1674) the evils arising from the “almost perpetual vacancies” in the episcopal sees of the islands, and their subjection to the secular government there; and he makes [11]recommendations for correcting these evils. In consequence of his efforts, the royal Council recommend various measures for this object.

The Dominican procurator-general in Madrid informs the Spanish government (1674) about the problems caused by the “almost constant vacancies” in the island's episcopal sees and their reliance on the secular government there; he also suggests [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] recommendations to fix these issues. As a result of his efforts, the royal Council advises various measures to address this matter.

A papal decree of December 17, 1677, allows to the Augustinian procurators the same prerogatives and privileges that are enjoyed by ex-provincials of the order.

A papal decree from December 17, 1677, grants the Augustinian procurators the same rights and privileges that ex-provincials of the order have.

By royal decree (May 17, 1680) the university of Santo Tomás is placed under the royal patronage.

By royal decree (May 17, 1680), the University of Santo Tomás is placed under royal patronage.

The bishop of Nueva Segovia, Francisco de Pizarro, writes to Cárlos II (February 24, 1683), giving a brief outline of the controversy between the Jesuits and Dominicans over their respective colleges in Manila; he takes occasion to praise the Jesuits and their labors.

The bishop of Nueva Segovia, Francisco de Pizarro, writes to Carlos II (February 24, 1683), giving a brief summary of the dispute between the Jesuits and Dominicans regarding their colleges in Manila; he takes the opportunity to commend the Jesuits and their efforts.

Much light is thrown upon the relations of the Spaniards with the Filipinos, and upon the native character, by the accounts (some of them almost contemporary) here presented of insurrections by Filipinos in the seventeenth century. These occur in northern Luzón (1621, 1625, 1629, 1639), Bohol and Leyte (1622), Mindanao (1629, 1650), Pampanga (1645, 1660) and Pangasinán (1661) in Luzón, the Visayan Islands (1649–50), Otón in Panay (1663, 1672), and among the Zambals (1661, 1681, 1683). Accounts of these are here translated from early chronicles, their writers representing the various religious orders; and are arranged chronologically. These revolts are caused partly by Spanish oppression, but even more by the influence of certain chiefs who desire to restore the old worship of idols, and who appeal to the superstitious, credulous, and fickle natures of their followers. They are, in each case, sooner or later quelled by the Spaniards, thanks to [12]their bravery and their possession of firearms; and severe punishments are inflicted on the ringleaders, thus restraining further attempts to throw off the Spanish yoke. The rebellion of 1649–50 is so general that the Spaniards are obliged to call in the aid of the Lutaos of southern Mindanao, themselves enemies and pirates not many years before; but they willingly go to attack their ancient enemies the Visayans. In several of these insurrections, great dangers are averted by the influence that the missionaries have acquired over the natives, and they sometimes are able even to prevent rebellions; they often risk their lives in thus going among the insurgents, Nevertheless, the first fury of the insurgents is directed against the churches, and sometimes against the missionaries as well as the other Spaniards; they kill some friars, burn the convents and churches, and profane the images. Diaz ascribes this to the shrewd scheming of the ringleaders to involve the crowd in general guilt, and thus secure the adherence and more desperate resistance of their followers. One of the insurrections is led by a scheming priest of idols who persuades the natives that he is God; and certain of his associates personate Christ, the Holy Spirit, and the Virgin Mary—only to receive heavier punishment when their rebellion is overthrown. The policy of the Spaniards toward the natives is plainly shown in these accounts, and often reminds the reader of that pursued by the French with the North American tribes, and by the English with the natives of India.

Much light is shed on the relationships between the Spaniards and the Filipinos, as well as on the native character, by the accounts (some almost contemporary) of Filipino uprisings in the seventeenth century presented here. These occur in northern Luzón (1621, 1625, 1629, 1639), Bohol and Leyte (1622), Mindanao (1629, 1650), Pampanga (1645, 1660) and Pangasinán (1661) in Luzón, the Visayan Islands (1649–50), Otón in Panay (1663, 1672), and among the Zambals (1661, 1681, 1683). The accounts of these are translated from early chronicles, written by various religious orders, and are organized chronologically. These revolts are partly caused by Spanish oppression but even more so by the influence of certain chiefs who want to restore the old idol worship, appealing to the superstitious, credulous, and fickle natures of their followers. In each case, they are eventually suppressed by the Spaniards, thanks to their bravery and access to firearms, and severe punishments are inflicted on the ringleaders, which helps prevent further attempts to shake off Spanish rule. The rebellion of 1649–50 is so widespread that the Spaniards have to seek help from the Lutaos of southern Mindanao, who were enemies and pirates not long before; however, they readily agree to attack their old enemies, the Visayans. In several of these uprisings, the dangers are averted by the influence that missionaries have gained over the natives, and they sometimes manage to prevent rebellions; they often risk their lives by going among the insurgents. Still, the initial fury of the insurgents is aimed at the churches and sometimes at the missionaries as well as other Spaniards; they kill some friars, burn convents and churches, and desecrate images. Diaz attributes this to the clever scheming of the ringleaders to involve the crowd in widespread guilt, which ensures the loyalty and more desperate resistance of their followers. One of the uprisings is led by a scheming priest of idols who convinces the natives that he is God; certain associates impersonate Christ, the Holy Spirit, and the Virgin Mary—only to face harsher punishment when their rebellion is crushed. The Spaniards' policy toward the natives is clearly illustrated in these accounts and often reminds readers of the approach taken by the French with North American tribes and by the English with the native peoples of India.

The English buccaneer William Dampier spent most of the years 1686–87 in the Philippine Islands; his own account of this sojourn (published in 1697) [13]is an interesting and valuable addition to Philippine documentary material. Departing from Cape Corrientes in Mexico (March 31, 1686), they sail across the Pacific in order to plunder the vessels engaged in the Philippine commerce, and on May 21 reach Guam, whose people and products are minutely described. The population of that island is greatly reduced, because most of the natives had left it after an unsuccessful rebellion against their Spanish conquerors. The English obtain a supply of provisions here, by professing to be Spaniards. Thence they depart for Mindanao (June 2), where they remain until January 13, 1687. Dampier describes, with much detail, the fauna, products, people, and customs of Mindanao. This document will be concluded in VOL. XXXIX.

The English buccaneer William Dampier spent most of 1686–87 in the Philippine Islands. His own account of this time (published in 1697) [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]is an interesting and valuable addition to Philippine historical records. He left Cape Corrientes in Mexico on March 31, 1686, and sailed across the Pacific to raid vessels involved in the Philippine trade. On May 21, they arrived at Guam, where the local people and products are described in detail. The island's population has significantly decreased because many natives left after an unsuccessful rebellion against their Spanish conquerors. The English got supplies here by pretending to be Spaniards. They then set off for Mindanao on June 2, where they stayed until January 13, 1687. Dampier provides a detailed account of the wildlife, products, people, and customs of Mindanao. This document will be concluded in VOL. 39.

The Editors

The Editors

April, 1906. [15]

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MISCELLANEOUS DOCUMENTS, 1674–1683

Sources: The first document is concluded from VOL. XXXVII, q.v. The second is obtained from the Ventura del Arco MSS. (Ayer library), iii, pp. 1–5. The third is from Hernaez’s Colección de bulas, i, p. 592. The fourth is from Algunos documentos relat. á la Uuniv. de Manila, pp. 31–33. The fifth is from a MS. in the Archivo general de Indias, Sevilla. The sixth is from various early writers, full references to each being given in the text. The seventh is from the Voyages of Dampier, London ed. of 1703, i, pp. 279–402; from a copy in the library of Harvard University.

Sources: The first document is taken from VOL. 37, q.v. The second is found in the Ventura del Arco manuscripts (Ayer library), iii, pp. 1–5. The third is from Hernaez’s Colección de bulas, i, p. 592. The fourth is from Algunos documentos relat. á la Uuniv. de Manila, pp. 31–33. The fifth is from a manuscript in the General Archive of the Indies, Sevilla. The sixth comes from various early writers, with full references provided in the text. The seventh is from the Voyages of Dampier, London edition of 1703, i, pp. 279–402; from a copy in the Harvard University library.

Translations: The first, second, fourth, and seventh of these documents are translated by James A. Robertson; the third, by Rev. T. C. Middleton, O.S.A.; the fifth and sixth, by Emma Helen Blair. [17]

Translations: The first, second, fourth, and seventh of these documents are translated by James A. Robertson; the third, by Rev. T. C. Middleton, O.S.A.; the fifth and sixth, by Emma Helen Blair. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

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MANILA AND THE PHILIPPINES ABOUT 1650

(Concluded)

Concluded

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CHAP. V

What I observed and accomplished in that time

What I saw and achieved during that time

1. In the year of 53, Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, a brother of the Conde de Friginiana, arrived in Manila as governor of the islands. He was accompanied by the archbishop, Don Miguel de Poblete, a creole from La Puebla de los Angeles; the bishop of Nueva Segovia, Señor Cardenas, a creole of Pirù, of my order, a very learned and illustrious preacher; the bishop of Nueva Caceres, one San Gregorio, a Franciscan; and Doctor Ucles,1 dean of the Manila cathedral, as bishop of Zibu. He brought people and money, with which the islands were resuscitated. All their citizens were worn out, poor, sad, and exhausted with the severity and too great seclusion of Don Diego Faxardo. The affability of the new governor was very pleasing. He held intercourse with all, gave audience to all, went through the city, visited the convents, and scrupulously attended the feasts, and sermons published on the list. He was entertaining, and could sustain a conversation very agreeably with his fine [18]understanding. He was not at all vain or proud, but was pious and very religious. At times when I heard him speak of the things of God and of freeing oneself from the deceits of the world, he kept my attention, absorbed, both with the words that he uttered, and with the effective way and the spirit with which he expressed them. He was never partial [in dealing] with the orders; but he venerated, loved, and wished well to them all, bearing himself toward them as a prince ought. He showed himself to be devout, and very devout on not few occasions; and he personally attended the processions which were formed in the city. He was a giver of alms, and tried hard to advance the [welfare of the] community. For that purpose, many marriages took place by his arrangement; and he aided in them by bestowing some offices. On the occasion when the new archbishop absolved that land, by special order of his Holiness, from the censures incurred through the exile pronounced against the archbishop by Corcuera (of which mention has been made above), the same Don Sabiniano brought Señor Poblete to the postern of the Almacenes [i.e., magazines], where that exile had been enforced, so that he might pronounce his blessing there. When it was done, Don Sabiniano threw himself at the archbishop’s feet, and said: “Your Excellency may be assured that I shall never cause such disturbances.” That action was a fine example for all men.

1. In 1653, Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, brother of the Conde de Friginiana, arrived in Manila as the governor of the islands. He was accompanied by the archbishop, Don Miguel de Poblete, a Creole from La Puebla de los Angeles; the bishop of Nueva Segovia, Señor Cardenas, a Creole from Peru, who was highly educated and a renowned preacher; the bishop of Nueva Caceres, a Franciscan named San Gregorio; and Doctor Ucles, the dean of the Manila cathedral and bishop of Zibu. He brought people and funds that revived the islands. Their citizens were worn out, poor, sad, and exhausted from the strictness and isolation imposed by Don Diego Faxardo. The friendliness of the new governor was very appreciated. He interacted with everyone, welcomed all, walked around the city, visited the convents, and faithfully attended the celebrations and sermons listed. He was entertaining and could hold a pleasant conversation thanks to his keen understanding. He wasn't vain or proud but was pious and quite religious. At times, when I heard him talk about God and freeing oneself from worldly deceptions, he captured my attention with both the words he spoke and the passionate way he expressed them. He was never biased towards any religious orders; instead, he respected, loved, and wished well for all of them, treating them as a prince should. He consistently showed devotion, frequently participating in city processions. He was generous and worked hard to improve the community's welfare. He facilitated many marriages and supported them by providing some positions. When the new archbishop lifted the censure placed on that land by Corcuera because of the archbishop's exile (as previously mentioned), Don Sabiniano brought Señor Poblete to the back entrance of the Almacenes (i.e., magazines) where that exile had taken place, so he could give his blessing there. Once it was done, Don Sabiniano knelt at the archbishop’s feet and said, “Your Excellency can be assured that I will never cause such disturbances.” That action served as a great example for everyone.

2. He was unfortunate in some things, especially in the loss of ships during his time, but I do not see that he is at all to blame for this. What blame could be attached to Don Sabiniano because the ship in which Don Pedro de Villaroel was commander was [19]wrecked? Where did Don Sabiniano sin because another ship was lost in which the commander Ugalde and Thomàs Ramos were so interested? What I know is that that gentleman labored assiduously, that he built fine ships, and that he fortified the city admirably to resist the Chinese. I heard of some charges afterward that had been made against him in his residencia, which surely are more worthy of being laughed at than to be taken in any other way. The little bad temper that he had was the best thing that he could display in that land. I noted one thing, over which I pondered with all my care, namely, that if he ever through his quick and choleric nature uttered two words in anger to anyone, he was so sorry and repentant, that there was no means or method that he did not seek in order to assure and content the one aggrieved, to whom thereafter he showed much kindness, and treated with unusual expressions of love—a great argument that for his good and pious disposition. That is a matter on which much could be written, if my purpose did not prevent me.

2. He faced some misfortunes, especially with the loss of ships during his time, but I don't think he is to blame for it at all. What fault can be found with Don Sabiniano because the ship commanded by Don Pedro de Villaroel was [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]wrecked? Where did Don Sabiniano go wrong because another ship was lost that the commanders Ugalde and Thomàs Ramos cared about? What I know is that this gentleman worked hard, built great ships, and fortified the city excellently to defend against the Chinese. I heard some accusations later made against him in his residencia, which are surely more worthy of laughter than anything else. His slight bad temper was the best thing he could display in that place. I noticed one thing, which I thought about carefully, that if he ever spoke a couple of angry words to anyone because of his quick and fiery nature, he felt so sorry and regretful that he sought every possible way to reassure and make amends to the person he upset, treating them with great kindness and unusual affection afterward—an important sign of his good and kind-hearted nature. That's a topic I could write a lot about, if my purpose didn't hold me back.

3. But my heart will not allow me to let the great services and merits of that very illustrious gentleman remain buried in forgetfulness; for that reason I determined to insert some of them here. I am not playing the part of a great thinker, and still less that of an historian, for my pen is very weak and limited. I shall merely relate simply, in accordance with my style, what I am very sure of. It is not my business to publish the blueness of his blood, nor to attempt to give the world knowledge of the origin and stock of the most noble family of the Manriques de Lara, or of its most brilliant branches, which [20]make glorious and illustrious so many houses of España; for besides the fact that that is superior to my limited abilities, I would be presuming to exhibit the resplendent rays of the sun....

3. But I can't let the amazing contributions and qualities of that remarkable gentleman fade into oblivion; that's why I've decided to highlight some of them here. I'm not trying to act like a great thinker or, even less, a historian, since my writing skills are quite weak and limited. I'll just share simply, in my own way, what I truly believe. It's not my job to reveal the nobility of his lineage or to educate the world about the origin and heritage of the most distinguished family of the Manriques de Lara, or its most outstanding branches, which [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]bring honor and distinction to so many houses in Spain; because, aside from the fact that it's beyond my capabilities, I would be presuming to shine a light brighter than the sun...

4. I confess also that if the subject of whom I am treating had no greater splendor than that communicated by his blood, my attention would not be so taken up with him. It cannot be denied that the heir to nobility deserves great praises; nor is there any doubt that acquired nobility mounts above and lifts the former even to the clouds.... And thus I say that that gentleman has with his devotion, excellent example, and services for his Majesty gained new splendors for the Manriques de Lara, and greatly increased their glories.

4. I also admit that if the person I'm discussing didn’t have more glory than what comes from their lineage, I wouldn't be so captivated by them. It's undeniable that those born into nobility deserve high praise; there's no question that earned nobility elevates and boosts the old nobility even into the highest ranks.... So, I say that this gentleman, through his dedication, outstanding example, and service to his Majesty, has brought new honors to the Manriques de Lara and significantly enhanced their reputation.

5. While I was in the port of Cavite in 1656, I heard that he had held the appointment of master-of-camp at the age of nineteen. There are men who acquire more in a few years by their valor and courage than others in many years.

5. While I was in the port of Cavite in 1656, I heard that he had been appointed master-of-camp at nineteen. Some people achieve more in just a few years through their bravery and determination than others do in many years.

[Navarrete relates that when the princess Margarita of Portugal was in Lisboa, Don Sabiniano was made admiral of the fleet assembled against France, and held that post for eighteen months. At the separation of the Spanish and Portuguese crowns he was taken prisoner, and was confined in various prisons, from December 25, 1640 to May 8, 1645. After being set at liberty he was soon given the post of castellan of Acapulco.]

[Navarrete shares that when Princess Margarita of Portugal was in Lisbon, Don Sabiniano was appointed admiral of the fleet assembled against France, and he held that position for eighteen months. After the Spanish and Portuguese crowns separated, he was captured and imprisoned in various locations from December 25, 1640, to May 8, 1645. After he was released, he was quickly appointed as the castellan of Acapulco.]

Then followed the government of Philipinas, a post [which is bestowed] as a reward for the greatest services, and is the first and best of all in the Indias. He governed as I have written, and as I shall write hereafter. He has held no other place, because he [21]did not desire it. I remember quite distinctly what he said to me one day in Manila: “Father Fray Domingo, if God carries us to España, your Reverence will see how I shall seclude myself at Malaga, in order to live [so as to prepare] for death, without meddling more with the affairs of the world.” Thus did he do, and I see that he is doing it. I would very willingly write at greater length, if, as I have said, the principal purpose of this work did not prevent it.

Then came the government of the Philippines, a position that is given as a reward for outstanding service, and it is the most important one in the Indies. He governed as I have written and will write about later. He has held no other position because he didn’t want to. I remember clearly what he said to me one day in Manila: “Father Fray Domingo, if God takes us to Spain, you’ll see how I plan to isolate myself in Malaga to prepare for death and not get involved with the world anymore.” And that's exactly what he's done, and I see that he continues to do it. I would be happy to write more, but as I mentioned, the main goal of this work prevents it.

12. Shortly after the new governor had entered the country, I discovered in the mountains of Batan the famous fruit considered as a delicacy in China, which is called lechias by the Spaniards and li chi by the Chinese. It is one of the best fruits in the world. I took some to Manila, and they were the first fresh ones that have been in that city; for those taken thither from China are dried, and do not at all resemble the fresh ones. I wrote about this fruit in the first treatise.2 [22]

12. Shortly after the new governor arrived, I found the famous fruit known in China as a delicacy in the mountains of Batan. The Spaniards call it lechias, and the Chinese refer to it as li chi. It's one of the best fruits in the world. I took some to Manila, and they were the first fresh ones to ever reach that city; the ones sent from China are dried and don’t resemble the fresh ones at all. I wrote about this fruit in the first treatise.2 [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

13. At that time, when I was convalescing, I offered to accompany one of Ours who was about to go to the island of Luban, and thence to the island of Mindoro, to visit some mission fields, and do what I could to benefit those wretched Indians. The island of Luban is situated twelve leguas from that of Manila. It is small but beautiful. There are many cocoa palm-groves in those fields, and considerable cotton from which very fine cloth is made. The village has about 200 tributes. That place contains a well-built fort, which has a most excellent moat, for the purpose of defending the inhabitants from the Camucones robbers. The latter, through our very culpable neglect, infest that and other districts every year with the greatest loss of his Majesty’s vassals. During the season when we were there, there was an unexpected attack. We hastened to the fort, but the attack ended in nothing. The church is a suitable one and is well adorned. The cura had established the custom that, when the time for the Ave Marias rang, they should ring to recite the rosary, to which all the village hastened. Some people assured us that after the establishment of that holy devotion no enemy had ever gone thither, although before that time many had attacked and pillaged them of all their possessions. Formerly, they neither recited the rosary nor had a fort; and afterward they had all that, but the first was sufficient for their defense. We confessed and preached there [23]until after the feast of the Nativity, which was celebrated very solemnly. During that time a fearful storm arose, and, in order to assure our safety, we descended to the portal, for we thought the house would be carried away. A royal champan was sailing not very far from that place, in which were the captain and alcalde-mayor of Caraga and his wife, and three Recollect fathers. They were running before the wind without knowing where they were going. The night was very dark, and the seas were running high; they thought that they were lost, but they did not know whether the land was far or near. Two of the Augustinian Recollect fathers took counsel between themselves, alone and secretly; and according to what is believed they must have said that it was better to anticipate and not to wait until all of them should fall into the water, where there is generally some difficulty in keeping clear of one another. Each of them tied up his small mattress, which was filled with varo (a material like cotton, which will float on the water for a long time), and then, calling his servant, jumped into the sea without being perceived or seen by anyone. The result only gave the others occasion to imagine what has been written. Their associate and the others felt it keenly. Neither of them was ever heard of again. The first heavy sea must have washed their mattresses out of their hands, and they must have perished without any help. At dawn the little vessel ran ashore on the beach of a small island one-half legua from Luban. All the people were saved except a female slave, who was drowned suddenly when she jumped into the water to go ashore, and no one was able to aid her. They reached Luban, so weak and miserable [24]that their faces plainly showed their sufferings. The cura treated them very hospitably.

13. At that time, while I was recovering, I offered to accompany one of our group who was about to go to the island of Luban, and then to the island of Mindoro, to visit some mission fields and do what I could to help those unfortunate Indigenous people. The island of Luban is located twelve leagues from Manila. It’s small but beautiful. There are many cocoa palm groves in the fields, and quite a bit of cotton from which very fine cloth is made. The village has about 200 tributes. That place has a well-built fort, which features an excellent moat to protect the inhabitants from the Camucones robbers. Due to our serious neglect, these robbers infest that and other areas every year, causing great loss to His Majesty's subjects. During our stay, there was an unexpected attack. We rushed to the fort, but the attack amounted to nothing. The church is suitable and well-decorated. The cura had established a custom that, when the time for the Ave Marias rang, they would ring the bell to recite the rosary, which everyone in the village would join. Some people told us that after this holy devotion was established, no enemy had ever dared to come there, even though they had previously been attacked and robbed of everything. Before that, they neither recited the rosary nor had a fort; afterward, they had both, but the first was enough for their defense. We heard confessions and preached there [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] until after the feast of the Nativity, which was celebrated very solemnly. During that time, a terrifying storm arose, and to ensure our safety, we went down to the portal, fearing that the house would be blown away. A royal champan was sailing not far from there, carrying the captain and alcalde-mayor of Caraga and his wife, along with three Recollect fathers. They were adrift in the storm, not knowing where they were headed. The night was extremely dark, and the seas were rough; they feared they were lost but didn’t know if land was far or close. Two of the Augustinian Recollect fathers discreetly conspired with each other; it’s believed they decided it was better to act quickly rather than wait until they all fell into the water, where it’s generally hard to avoid colliding with one another. Each of them tied up his small mattress, which was filled with varo (a material similar to cotton that can float on water for a long time), and then, calling his servant, jumped into the sea without being noticed by anyone. This only led the others to speculate about what happened. Their associate and the others felt their absence keenly. Neither was ever heard from again. The first heavy wave must have swept their mattresses from their hands, and they likely drowned without any help. At dawn, the small vessel washed ashore on the beach of a small island half a league from Luban. Everyone was saved except for a female slave who drowned unexpectedly when she jumped into the water to reach the shore, and no one could assist her. They reached Luban looking weak and miserable [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__], their faces clearly showing their suffering. The cura treated them very hospitably.

14. On Epiphany we crossed by sail and oar the channel to Mindoro. That same afternoon we went up to the village of Calavit, which is situated more than one legua from the sea; all the way the road lies straight up hill and is rough. After three days we descended in order to go to Guistin, where we were to lodge, and whence we were to go to all other parts. We walked more than six leguas that day over the most infernal road that can be imagined. In places we clambered over rocks, and in parts, even with the aid of the Indians, we were unable to ascend. We found a place where the rocks were all jagged, and so sharp and penetrating that, actually and truly, they wore out the soles of our shoes. The poor Indians, who go barefoot naturally and legitimately, walked along with the soles of their feet dripping blood, which caused us to overflow with compassion. We reached the foot of the mountain of Guistin without having eaten a mouthful. There we found some Indians who had some roasted potatoes, although these were cold. We ate a trifle of that refreshment and then began to climb the mountain. It is as high as the other but without comparison much rougher. For a goodly distance we did nothing but clamber up by laying hold of the roots of trees. We walked the rest of the way, but after taking twenty paces we would throw ourselves on the ground to breathe a bit. Finally, by God’s help we arrived and found the church. Without being able to enter it, we fell face downward on the earth near the door, where we stayed a long time in order to rest a little. We found ourselves afterward so [25]sweaty that even our outside habits contained moisture. The wind which was blowing was cold and violent in the eighth degree.3 We took shelter for that night in a poor little hut of straw, which was open to the four winds. Our supper was a small bit of biscuit soaked in a trifle of the wine used for mass, [which we drank] for fear of the cold. We slept sitting, close to one another. Next day (which dawned clear) we made use of the sun to dry our clothes. After mass we set about our business, namely, looking after the souls of those Indians. It must be observed that the whole refreshment there consisted of some eggs, rice, and potatoes; those mountains contain many and excellent potatoes. On the day of the Purification, after having said mass and preached, I returned in one day to Calavit, passing for the second time over that good road. The weariness, sweat, wind, and poor food caused me an attack of illness that night, while I was alone in my wretched little hut of bamboo and straw—so that I thought I would end my life there; and in truth I was consoled. I remained there for some days, doing what I could. Then I went to two other small villages, the way thither being over a very bad road; there I instructed, preached, and baptized some of the people. One day I found myself with nine young fellows of marriageable age who had descended the mountains to ask baptism. They had never seen a priest. Having been catechised they received the waters of baptism. One old man who must have been, beyond any question, more than eighty years old, responded very readily to the [26]catechism, and showed himself very devout. When I was going to recite the divine office, he walked back of me. Once I called to him and asked him what he wanted, and why he always dogged my footsteps. He replied to me: “Father, I hear you say that we are obliged to know the Christian doctrine; and as I do not know it, I am seeking the opportunity so that your Reverence may teach it to me.” “How many years,” I asked him, “have you been a Christian?” “One year,” he replied; “and I am sure that I understood what it was from childhood.” Thereupon I asked him further: “Who baptized you, and how?” He gave me an account of everything, and said that no word had been taught him; and that he had been told that it was because he was old and could not learn. That caused me a great sorrow and I began immediately to catechise him. I took him with me to the seashore, and, we twain having seated ourselves, I explained the Credo to him as clearly as possible, accommodating myself to his capacity. Said I to him: “You see this sea and that sky: God created them all.” He immediately answered: “Is it possible? is God so great that He could do that?” I repeated what I had said, and explained it to him, and said again: “Yes, that sky, this earth, the sea, etc., all are the work of God.” He repeated in great astonishment: “So great, so great is God?” He repeated that many times. I took great pains with him and he did the same himself, for he understood it better than did the young fellows. I confessed him afterwards, and found that I had to absolve him. I asked him “Juan, have you ever sworn or told a lie?” “For what purpose, Father? or why should I swear or tell a lie?” he answered. [27]“Have you had any words or quarreled with any person?” “Father, I live alone; I attend to my field; I neither see nor talk to anyone. Even if I wished to quarrel, I have no one with whom to quarrel.” Thus did he reply to all my questions. I gave him some small articles of clothing, and told him that his name was Juan de Dios [i.e., John of God]. He was very happy, and I was very much consoled. That little village having been instructed, and the children baptized, as well as the adults above mentioned, I returned to Guistin. The cura of Nanhoan, thirty leguas south, summoned one of us, and I resolved to go there immediately.

14. On Epiphany, we sailed and rowed across the channel to Mindoro. That same afternoon, we headed up to the village of Calavit, which is located over a league from the sea; the entire road is uphill and rough. After three days, we came down to go to Guistin, where we were going to stay and from where we would visit other places. We walked over six leagues that day on the most terrible road imaginable. In some places, we scrambled over rocks, and in others, even with the help of the locals, we couldn't climb up. We found a spot where the rocks were jagged and so sharp that they actually wore down the soles of our shoes. The poor locals, who naturally walk barefoot, walked along with their feet bleeding, which filled us with compassion. We reached the foot of the Guistin mountain without having eaten anything. There, we found some locals with some cold roasted potatoes. We had a little of that snack and then started to climb the mountain. It was as high as the other, but significantly rougher. For a long stretch, we could only climb by gripping onto tree roots. We walked the rest of the way, but after taking twenty steps, we had to lie down to catch our breath. Finally, with God's help, we arrived and found the church. Unable to enter, we lay face down on the ground near the door, where we rested for a long time. We were so sweaty that even our outer clothes were damp. The wind blowing was cold and fierce. That night, we sheltered in a small straw hut open to the winds. For dinner, we had a small piece of biscuit soaked in a bit of mass wine to fend off the cold. We slept sitting close together. The next day, which was clear, we used the sun to dry our clothes. After mass, we got to work, looking after the souls of the locals. The only food available there was some eggs, rice, and potatoes; those mountains have many excellent potatoes. On the day of the Purification, after saying mass and preaching, I made the return trip to Calavit in one day, traveling that rough road for a second time. The exhaustion, sweat, wind, and poor food caused me to get sick that night while I was alone in my shabby bamboo and straw hut—making me think I would die there, and honestly, I found some consolation in that. I stayed there for a few days, doing what I could. Then I went to two other small villages, which were accessible via a very bad road; there I instructed, preached, and baptized some of the people. One day, I met nine young men of marriageable age who had come down from the mountains to request baptism. They had never seen a priest. After I taught them, they received baptism. One old man who was definitely over eighty years old responded very well to the catechism and showed great devotion. When I was about to say the divine office, he followed me. I called out to him and asked what he wanted and why he was always following me. He replied, “Father, I hear you say we must know the Christian doctrine; and since I don’t know it, I’m looking for the chance for you to teach me.” I asked him, “How many years have you been a Christian?” He said, “One year,” adding that he had been aware of it since childhood. Then I asked, “Who baptized you, and how?” He told me everything and said he had never been taught anything, and that he was told he was too old to learn. This caused me great sorrow, and I immediately began to catechize him. I took him with me to the seashore, and we sat down, and I explained the Creed to him as clearly as I could, adapting it to his understanding. I told him, “You see this sea and that sky: God created them all.” He immediately responded, “Is it possible? Is God so great that He could do that?” I repeated what I said, clarified it for him, and said again, “Yes, that sky, this earth, the sea, etc., everything is the work of God.” He replied in astonishment, “So great, so great is God?” He kept repeating that. I worked hard with him, and he did the same, as he understood things better than the young men. I eventually heard his confession and found I had to absolve him. I asked, “Juan, have you ever sworn or lied?” He answered, “What for, Father? Why would I swear or lie?” I asked, “Have you ever had any arguments or fights with anyone?” He said, “Father, I live alone; I tend to my field; I neither see nor speak to anyone. Even if I wanted to fight, I have no one to fight with.” He answered all my questions this way. I gave him a few articles of clothing and told him his name was Juan de Dios [i.e., John of God]. He was very happy, and I felt a deep sense of consolation. After teaching that little village, baptizing the children, and the adults mentioned, I returned to Guistin. The priest from Nanhoan, thirty leagues south, summoned one of us, and I decided to go there immediately.

15. When sailing in sight of a beach, the Indians discovered a carabao or buffalo which was near the water. We drew to the land. I remained on the sea, and the Indians attacked with their spears. The animal performed some queer antics; it rushed madly into the sea, and made furiously for the boat where I was. It struck the outside bamboos, and, had it not done that, I would have been in danger of my life. The Indians finally killed it, and immediately cut it into bits on the spot for drying. I landed to await my men, when we immediately caught sight of a band of Negrillos of the mountain. We recognized that they were peaceful, whereupon I calmed myself. In order that the sight of me might not scare them, I hid among some trees. About thirty men, women, and children came, all of whom, both male and female, carried bows and arrows. All were naked, except for the privies, which they cover with the leaves of a certain tree. The men were tattooed in white, the women in other colors, and they wore large wild flowers in their ears. In truth, both men [28]and women resembled devils. When they began to chat with the Indians I came out suddenly and spoke to them in their language, and offered them tobacco in the leaf, a thing which they esteem highly. When they saw me they were thrown into confusion, and almost all the women and some of the children ran away, with such swiftness that one would think that they were flying. The others remained quiet. I gave them tobacco, coaxed them and treated them with great gentleness. Two women went to look for fresh drinking water; and the Indians, having finished with the carabao, left these [Negrillos] there with the intestines, stomach, and bones. The Indians told me that, after our party would leave the place, all these wild people would gather here, and would not go away until they had gnawed the bones, and would even eat the stomach with its contents.

15. When we were sailing near a beach, the locals spotted a carabao or buffalo close to the water. We headed towards the land. I stayed out on the sea while the locals attacked it with their spears. The animal acted strangely; it crazily charged into the sea, heading straight for my boat. It hit the outer bamboo, and if it hadn't, I would have been in serious danger. The locals eventually killed it and quickly cut it into pieces right there to dry. I got off the boat to wait for my crew when we immediately noticed a group of mountain Negrillos. We recognized that they were friendly, so I relaxed. To avoid scaring them, I hid behind some trees. About thirty men, women, and children approached, all of them carrying bows and arrows. They were all naked except for their privates, which they covered with leaves from a certain tree. The men had white tattoos, the women had tattoos in other colors, and they wore big wildflowers in their ears. Honestly, both men and women looked devilish. When they started talking to the locals, I suddenly came out and spoke to them in their language, offering them tobacco wrapped in a leaf, which they valued highly. When they saw me, they panicked, and almost all of the women and some children ran away so fast it looked like they were flying. The others stayed calm. I gave them tobacco, talked to them gently, and treated them kindly. Two women went to find fresh drinking water, while the locals, having finished with the carabao, left the Negrillos there with the intestines, stomach, and bones. The locals told me that after we left, all these wild people would gather there and wouldn't leave until they had gnawed on the bones and even eaten the stomach and its contents.

16. At ten o’clock at night we ascended the river of Baccò, which is the chief town of that island. The rain fell so heavily that the village was under water. I remained there twenty-four hours. There is a very lofty mountain within sight of the village, down which falls a river which, when viewed from below, appears like a crystal mountain. The water passes near the village, and, as it seethes so mightily, and is overhung by a quantity of sarsaparilla, it is a wonderful sight. That island has some peculiarities. First, it has a great number of civet cats, from which much civet can be obtained for trade. There is the greatest quantity of wax in all those mountains; no account is taken of the honey. There are potatoes, sweet potatoes, grapes, yams, and fruits, in the greatest abundance; an infinite number of cedars,4 whose [29]flower, which I saw often, exhales the sweetest odor and is very large; and cocoa-palms in great abundance. There is another kind of palm from which they get honey, wine, vinegar, tuba, and sugar. There are also innumerable trees, resembling bananas, from which a black fiber is obtained for the rigging and cables of ships, of which there are so many that one is surprised. There is another species of white fiber which comes from another tree called abaaca. There are more of that kind in another part. It is excellent for ship cables, for the more it is wet the stronger it becomes. There is another tree on which a certain bark grows, as white as snow. It is soft as soft can be to the touch, and the Indians use it for their beds and for clothing—although they are not without cotton, of which they make excellent clothing.5

16. At ten o'clock at night, we made our way up the Baccò River, which is the main town on that island. The rain was pouring so hard that the village was flooded. I stayed there for twenty-four hours. There's a very tall mountain visible from the village, with a river cascading down it that looks like a crystal mountain when viewed from below. The water flows close to the village, and because it churns so violently and is surrounded by a lot of sarsaparilla, it's an amazing sight. This island has some unique features. Firstly, it has a large number of civet cats, providing a lot of civet for trade. There’s an abundance of wax in those mountains; nobody even bothers counting the honey. There are plenty of potatoes, sweet potatoes, grapes, yams, and fruits available; an endless supply of cedars, whose flowers I often saw, emit a wonderful scent and are quite large; and cocoa palms are also plentiful. There's another type of palm that produces honey, wine, vinegar, tuba, and sugar. Additionally, there are countless trees that resemble bananas, from which a black fiber is harvested for ship rigging and cables—so many that it's surprising. There's another tree that yields a type of white fiber from a plant called abaaca, found more abundantly in another region. This fiber is excellent for making ship cables, as it actually becomes stronger when wet. Another tree produces a bark as white as snow, which is incredibly soft to touch. The indigenous people use it for their bedding and clothing—even though they also have cotton, which they use to make excellent garments.5

17. Rivers and sea abound with fine fish. The fish called pexemulier6 is found there. Very valuable rosaries are made of its bones, because of the great virtue residing in them against hemorrhages; one which has been tested by experience is worth many ducados. Licentiate Francisco Roca, the cura of that place, related to me what happened in his district—a very notable case. An Indian who went to fish every day found near the water a pexemulier, which is said to resemble a woman from the breasts [30]down. He had regular intercourse with this creature, and continued that bestial concubinage daily for more than six months without losing a single day in that communication. After that time God touched his heart, and constrained him to confess. He confessed, and was ordered not to go to that place any more; he obeyed, and ceased that abomination. I avow that if I myself had not heard it from the above [cura], I would have doubted its truth exceedingly.

17. Rivers and the sea are full of fine fish. The fish called pexemulier6 is found there. Very valuable rosaries are made from its bones because of their strong healing properties against bleeding; one that has been proven effective is worth many ducados. Licentiate Francisco Roca, the priest of that area, shared with me a remarkable story from his district. An Indian who went fishing every day discovered a pexemulier near the water, which is said to look like a woman from the breasts [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]down. He had regular encounters with this creature and continued that unnatural relationship daily for more than six months without missing a single day. After that time, God touched his heart and urged him to confess. He did confess and was instructed not to return to that spot; he complied and stopped that sin. I admit that if I hadn’t heard it directly from the aforementioned [priest], I would have doubted its truth immensely.

18. On the afternoon of the next day, we (the cura, the alcalde-mayor, and I) set out in three boats for another curacy, namely, the one to which I was going. All three had to be reconciled, because of some slight differences that had preceded, and for that reason the voyage was made. The cura entertained us royally and we embraced and became good friends, and the feast was ended with a grand banquet which he gave us. It is not going to excess to add somewhat more than usual in such great occasions and feasts.... The truth is there was no wine, but only plenty of good water. In a few days I went out to the visitas, which were numerous and distant one from another. Having passed the first, I turned inland in order to cut off a large cape which extended far into the sea from a mountain. The crossing was thickly overgrown with trees, so high that one could not see the sky at all for two leguas. The leeches were so numerous that we could not estimate them. On reaching the sea I crossed a rivulet on the shoulders of an Indian, who carried his spear in his hand. Half-way over he descried a fine ray-fish; he threw his spear, and nailed it to the sand. When he had carried me over, he returned [31]and got that fish, dragging it along through the water. The Indian told me what fine food its liver was, and they cooked it for me, and truly it is a fine delicacy. I mentioned that in Roma in the year 73, and it so struck the fancy [of those who heard me] that some of them were anxious to secure that dainty. I did not know at that time the great virtue of the spine or claw at the point of the tail of that fish. It is an admirable remedy against toothache, and if the teeth be merely rubbed with that claw the pain leaves them; however, it must be cut off while the fish is alive.

18. The next afternoon, the cura, the alcalde-mayor, and I set off in three boats to another curacy, which was my destination. All three of us needed to reconcile some minor differences that had come up earlier, so that's why we made the trip. The cura treated us like royalty, and we embraced and became good friends. The celebration ended with a grand banquet he hosted for us. It’s not over the top to say there was a bit more than usual for such big occasions and feasts.... The truth is there was no wine, only plenty of good water. A few days later, I went out to the visitas, which were numerous and far apart. After passing the first one, I turned inland to navigate around a large cape that jutted far into the sea from a mountain. The area was thickly covered with trees so tall that you couldn't see the sky for two leagues. There were so many leeches that we couldn’t even count them. Upon reaching the sea, I crossed a small stream carried on the shoulders of an Indian, who was holding his spear. Halfway across, he spotted a nice ray-fish; he threw his spear and pinned it to the sand. After carrying me across, he went back and retrieved the fish, dragging it through the water. The Indian told me how tasty its liver was, and they cooked it for me, which was truly a delicacy. I mentioned this in Roma in the year '73, and it impressed my listeners so much that some of them were eager to get a taste of that dish. At that time, I didn’t know the great benefit of the spine or claw at the tail of that fish. It’s an excellent remedy for toothaches, and just rubbing the teeth with that claw makes the pain go away; however, it has to be cut off while the fish is still alive.

19. I went to celebrate Holy Week in a small village whose little church was located in the most pleasant and agreeable place that can be found anywhere. It lay three leguas from the sea, and one ascended thither by a fine and full-flowing river, which has a bed one legua wide during the rainy season. Near that river is a low-lying mountain which resembles a pleasant garden. At the south it has the most beautiful cocoa-palms; on the east and north it is covered with cacasuchiles full of flowers, which are beguiling to the sight and smell; to the east one sees very lofty mountains, which are very sightly. Round about it was a hedge of tall maguey,7 and in the middle of that stood the house and church. The village site, on the north side, and on the south, where the river flowed, was very steep, and had a fine spring at the foot. The means of approach to [32]the village were suitably hidden, for safety from the hostile Camucones. Indians of other villages assembled there; all confessed and communed, and some were baptized. Two things in especial happened to me there. One was a confession that covered thirty years. Truly that Indian confessed remarkably well, and had a very fine understanding. The other was that of a woman already of marriageable age and of excellent mind. She said to me: “Father, I went to the mountain with a youth, and we lived there as if we were married for six years.” (There is no lack of food in the mountains without any work.) “One night, as often before, we went to sleep upon the grass. At dawn I awoke, raised myself up to look at him, and beheld him dead at my side. So great was my fear on beholding that that I immediately descended to the village with the determination to confess and change my life. I have found an occasion when the father is here, and I wish to make use of it.” I counseled her as to what she would better do, and told her to be ever mindful of the mercy that God had shown her. Literally was the remark of God verified in this case, namely, that “two shall be sleeping, and one shall be taken and the other left.”8 The poor wretched youth suddenly attacked by death would run enough risk if one thought of the time and occasion when he was summoned.

19. I went to celebrate Holy Week in a small village where the little church was in the most pleasant spot imaginable. It was three leagues from the sea, and you could reach it by a beautiful, flowing river that had a bed one league wide during the rainy season. Next to that river, there was a low hill that looked like a lovely garden. To the south, there were beautiful cocoa palms, and to the east and north, it was filled with flowering cacasuchiles, which were delightful to see and smell. In the east, you could see very tall, impressive mountains. Surrounding it was a tall hedge of maguey, and in the middle stood the house and church. The village was situated on both the northern and southern sides where the river flowed, and it was quite steep, with a nice spring at the bottom. The paths leading to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the village were well concealed for protection against hostile Camucones. Indians from nearby villages gathered there; they all confessed and took communion, and some were baptized. Two significant events happened to me there. One was a confession that spanned thirty years. Truly, that Indian confessed exceptionally well and had a great understanding. The other was from a woman of marriageable age with a sound mind. She said to me, “Father, I went to the mountain with a young man, and we lived there as if we were married for six years.” (There’s no shortage of food in the mountains without any work.) “One night, as we had done many times before, we went to sleep on the grass. At dawn, I woke up, sat up to look at him, and saw he was dead beside me. I was so terrified when I saw that that I immediately went back down to the village, determined to confess and change my life. I found the opportunity while the father is here, and I want to take advantage of it.” I advised her on what to do and reminded her to always remember the mercy God had shown her. God’s saying was literally fulfilled in this case, that “two will be sleeping, and one will be taken, and the other left.” 8 The poor young man, suddenly struck by death, faced enough risk just by thinking about the moment and circumstance of when he was called.

We practiced all the ceremonies of the church from Palm Sunday to the day of the Resurrection. They had their altar; the chief of the village gave all the wax that was used on it. I remember that, [33]when the mandato9 was being preached, the good old man was softened, and suddenly kneeled down, weeping and sobbing. That devotion drew tears from me and the rest, and with them was the sermon finished.

We went through all the church ceremonies from Palm Sunday to Easter. They had their altar, and the village chief provided all the wax used on it. I remember that, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] when the mandato9 was being preached, the kind old man became emotional and suddenly knelt down, crying and sobbing. His devotion brought tears to my eyes and to others, and that marked the end of the sermon.

20. All of those people are, as villagers of the mountain regions, sincere, and without a bit of malice. They attend church with great devotion, and no word is spoken to them that does not fructify; therefore the gospel will continually spread among them. But there they are held by a mass every two or three years; those who die remain dead; and immediately the cura takes great care in collecting the tribute from them, and the personal services and fees.

20. All those people, as residents of the mountain regions, are genuine and completely without malice. They go to church with deep devotion, and every word they hear brings forth meaning; that's why the gospel keeps spreading among them. However, they only gather for a mass every two or three years; those who die stay dead; and right away, the priest makes sure to collect the tribute from them, along with any personal services and fees.

21. One of the great conveniences for the Indians in having religious in their districts is that, since the latter are changed every little while, if the Indian who is cowardly is afraid to confess to one, or has had a quarrel with him, he unbosoms himself to the other, and confesses well and freely to him. But if he once exhibits fear of the cura, or the cura gets angry at him, it is very difficult for him to show clearly what is in his breast when he goes to confess. He who made the confession to me that covered the thirty years had been silent about some matters, through fear and terror. This point is worthy of consideration. The fathers of the Society had been in that island in previous years; and they had four missionaries there, who labored very earnestly. The seculars to whom it belonged before went to law with them. It was returned to the seculars, and only [34]one cura is stationed there to administer what was administered by the four religious. Already one can see what must become of it. This is to seek Quæ sua sunt, non quæ Jesu Christi.10 There were visitas where the cura had not set foot for fourteen years.

21. One of the great advantages for the local people in having religious figures in their areas is that, since these figures change frequently, if someone is too afraid to confess to one or has had a disagreement with them, they can easily open up to another and confess openly. However, if someone shows fear of the priest, or if the priest gets upset with them, it becomes very hard for that person to express their true feelings when they go to confess. The person who confessed to me, covering thirty years’ worth of issues, had stayed silent about certain matters due to fear and anxiety. This is an important point to consider. The fathers of the Society had been on that island in previous years, and they had four missionaries who worked very hard there. The secular authorities, who previously held control, went to court against them. It was given back to the seculars, and now only [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] one priest is there to handle what was once managed by the four religious figures. It's already clear what the outcome will be. This is to seek Quæ sua sunt, non quæ Jesu Christi.10 There were areas where the priest hadn’t visited in fourteen years.

22. On the day of the Resurrection, after the mass, and after the mystery had been explained to the people, and some rice, potatoes, eggs, and fruit had been distributed among some poor people who had come to me, I went overland to another village. I slept on the way in the shade of some trees. There I encountered an infidel from the mountains, who had an excellent disposition. I showed him many kindnesses, but since no inclinations [toward the faith] had preceded, they availed but little. Next day I lodged in the house of another infidel, who treated me very well. These Indians and thousands of others do not become baptized because they fear the tribute and personal services, as I have already observed in another place.

22. On the day of the Resurrection, after the mass, and after explaining the mystery to the people, I distributed some rice, potatoes, eggs, and fruit to a few poor individuals who had come to see me. Then, I traveled by land to another village. I took a nap along the way in the shade of some trees. There, I met a non-believer from the mountains, who was very pleasant. I treated him with many kindnesses, but since there were no previous inclinations towards the faith, it didn’t make much of a difference. The next day, I stayed at the home of another non-believer, who treated me very well. These Indians, along with thousands of others, don’t get baptized because they are afraid of the taxes and personal service obligations, as I have noted elsewhere.

23. We arrived at the village of Santiago, which has a very poor climate, and is much exposed to the attacks of the hostile Camucones. The year before, some of them had been captured; and one of them said to me: “Father, my wife was giving birth to a child in this house, when the enemies arrived. I jumped through that window and some followed me. The others, especially the women who were in my house, were captured. They were taken along that path, and my wife, being weak and exhausted, could not walk. To make her go forward they kept striking her with clubs, and I watched it from behind [35]here, quite powerless to aid her. She was carrying the newborn infant on one arm, and while there those men cleft it in twain from its head down with a catan and left it there.” O barbarous cruelty! All that saddened my heart, and fear would not allow me to sleep, and daily I found my health getting worse. I said to the Indians that we should go to another place which was more healthful and safe, and they agreed to it. In a short time they built a chapel there and a little house for me. They built huts in their own manner for themselves, which are sufficient to protect them from the air and the rains. Cold there is not, but the heat is excessive.

23. We reached the village of Santiago, which has a really harsh climate and is often attacked by the hostile Camucones. The year before, some of them had been captured, and one of them told me, “Father, my wife was giving birth to a child in this house when the enemies came. I jumped out of that window, and some followed me. The others, especially the women in my house, were captured. They were taken along that path, and my wife, being weak and exhausted, couldn’t walk. To force her forward, they kept hitting her with clubs, and I watched helplessly from behind [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]. She was carrying the newborn baby in one arm, and while there, those men split it in half from its head down with a sword and left it there.” Oh, such barbaric cruelty! All of that saddened my heart, and fear kept me from sleeping, and each day my health got worse. I suggested to the Indians that we should move to a safer and healthier place, and they agreed. Soon they built a chapel there and a small house for me. They constructed huts in their own way for themselves, which are enough to protect them from the wind and the rain. It’s not cold there, but the heat is intense.

24. One of the Chinese boats which was en route to Manila by way of that island stopped there. The Chinaman, named Gote, told me how he had outwitted six hostile boats by a trick and his boldness. His boat carried a father of the Society, and one Spaniard. Seeing that the enemy were about to attack him, he anticipated them. He ran up his flag, sounded his gongs, summoning and inviting them to fight and made for them. The enemy got together to take counsel, and the result was that they fled. The Chinaman told me, in his broken Spanish: “Those people neither saw nor knew what I was carrying in my boat. They also fear death. Had I fled, without doubt I would have been killed. Was it not better then to attack? They must have thought or suspected that I had arms; for who would risk his own life?” On the day of St. Philip and St. James I was in great tribulation. I was confessing in the chapel. I noticed that the seat in which I was seated, which was of bamboo, was shaking. I imagined that some dog was under it, and asked the Indian to drive it [36]away from there. He answered: “No, Father, it is not a dog, but an earthquake.” It increased in violence so much that, abandoning my penitent, I knelt down and begged God for mercy. I thought that surely the end of the world was come. I have seen many earthquakes, but none so severe as that. At the close I said: “If that earthquake has been as violent in Manila, not one stone has remained upon another.” I learned afterward that it had caused some damage, although it was not great. The distance thence to Manila is very nearly one hundred leguas and there is a goodly stretch of water in between.

24. One of the Chinese boats headed to Manila stopped at that island. The Chinese man, named Gote, told me how he had outsmarted six enemy boats with a clever trick and his bravery. His boat carried a member of the Society and one Spaniard. When he saw the enemy about to attack, he decided to take the initiative. He raised his flag, rang his gongs, and invited them to fight as he charged at them. The enemy gathered to discuss what to do, and in the end, they ran away. The Chinese man said to me in his broken Spanish: “Those people neither saw nor knew what I had on my boat. They also fear death. If I had fled, I would have definitely been killed. Isn’t it better to attack instead? They must have thought or suspected that I had weapons; who would risk their life?” On the day of St. Philip and St. James, I was in deep trouble. I was confessing in the chapel when I noticed the bamboo seat I was sitting on shaking. I imagined a dog was underneath, so I asked the Indian to chase it away. He replied, “No, Father, it’s not a dog; it’s an earthquake.” It got so violent that I abandoned my penitent, knelt down, and begged God for mercy. I thought surely the end of the world had come. I’ve seen many earthquakes, but none as severe as that one. At the end, I said, “If that earthquake was as strong in Manila, not a single stone would be left standing.” I learned later that it caused some damage, although it wasn’t extensive. The distance from there to Manila is almost one hundred leguas, and there’s a good amount of water in between.

25. During those days I gave instruction and confession and administered the communion to all. There were no adults to baptize, but there were children. As the heat increased, together with the danger of the enemy and my lack of health, I resolved to return, although not a little sorry to leave two more visitas, twenty leguas from that place. I reached Nanhoan by passing again through the same villages by which I had come. During that voyage I observed that, having ascended a river and told the Indians to prepare me a place wherein to say mass and another in which to sleep that night, they made the whole thing in two hours, by making a covering above that place with only the leaves of the wild palm. That night a very heavy shower fell, but not a single drop leaked inside the shelter. Then and on many other occasions I have noticed that each leaf was so large that an Indian carried it by dragging it; and since they are fan-shaped, and have channels, and are strong, they could withstand as much rain as might fall. In another village an incident happened that caused the [37]Indians great fear, and myself not a little wonder. The Indians were down at the shore, mending the boat in which I was going to embark, when suddenly a well-known fish came out of the water, which we call picuda,11 and the Portuguese vicuda. It seized an Indian so firmly by the instep that it began to drag him into the sea. His companions hastened to his rescue and made the fish loose its prey by means of clubs and stones, and return to the water. They brought the young fellow to me wounded. He confessed, and was very sick. He recovered his health afterward, but was lame in that foot. Those men were astonished, for they had never seen or heard that that fish went ashore, and much less that it attacked men.

25. During those days, I provided instruction and heard confessions, and I administered communion to everyone. There weren’t any adults to baptize, but there were children. As the heat increased, along with the threats from the enemy and my own poor health, I decided to head back, though I was quite sorry to leave two more visitas, twenty leagues away from that place. I reached Nanhoan by passing through the same villages I had come through before. During that journey, I noticed that, after going up a river and asking the Indians to prepare a spot for me to conduct mass and another place to sleep that night, they set everything up in just two hours by using only wild palm leaves to create a roof over the area. That night, a heavy downpour came, but not a single drop leaked inside the shelter. Since then, and on many other occasions, I've noticed that each leaf is so large that an Indian can drag it along; they're fan-shaped, with channels, and quite strong, so they can handle as much rain as might fall. In another village, something happened that frightened the Indians and left me quite amazed. The Indians were at the shore fixing the boat I was about to board when suddenly a well-known fish, which we call picuda and the Portuguese call vicuda, jumped out of the water. It grabbed one of the Indians by the instep and started dragging him into the sea. His friends rushed to rescue him, using clubs and stones to make the fish release its grip and go back into the water. They brought the young man to me injured. He confessed and was very sick. He later recovered but was left with a limp in that foot. The men were stunned since they had never seen or heard of that fish coming ashore, much less attacking people.

26. There is a fine lake near Nanhoan12 which is so full of fish, especially skates, that one can sometimes catch them with the hands, take out the eggs and let the fish go. If those eggs be salted, they make a fine accompaniment for rice and are considered a dainty. While I was there an Indian woman came to bathe, but she remained behind in the teeth of a crocodile. I left for Manila, and a chief and his son with four Indians set out from the southern side. The enemy met them and, although they resisted, they were captured and taken prisoners to [38]Mindanao. The Lord delivered me and those with me. I passed the bay of Batangas and went round by way of the lake of Lombon,13 which is very beautiful. From Manila, where I remained several days, I went to Batam, where I suffered the greatest discomforts and uneasiness from witches or goblins. We do not know what it was, but the result showed that it was a work of the devil. Considerable danger to any man was not experienced, but we heard rumblings and noises, and stones were thrown. The house became dirty in an instant, and was clean again as quickly. Chairs were overthrown with great swiftness, and we could not see who moved them; and such things as that did we see with our eyes. We passed whole nights without sleeping.

26. There's a beautiful lake near Nanhoan12 that's packed with fish, especially skates, so much so that you can sometimes catch them by hand, take out the eggs, and release the fish. If you salt those eggs, they make a great side dish for rice and are considered a delicacy. While I was there, an Indian woman came to bathe but stayed behind because of a crocodile. I left for Manila, and a chief, his son, and four Indians set off from the southern side. The enemy encountered them and, even though they fought back, they were captured and taken as prisoners to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Mindanao. The Lord saved me and those with me. I passed by Batangas Bay and went around the beautiful lake of Lombon,13_. After spending several days in Manila, I traveled to Batam, where I endured great discomfort and unease from witches or goblins. We’re not sure what it was, but it definitely felt like something evil. While we didn't face serious danger, we heard strange rumblings and noises, and stones were thrown. The house would get filthy in an instant and then be clean again just as quickly. Chairs were overturned in a flash, and we couldn't see who moved them; we really witnessed things like that with our own eyes. We spent whole nights without sleeping.

27. One of those nights another [disturbance occurred]; when I had already retired, and the noise was somewhat silenced, the fiscal and governor and some other Indians came into the sleeping-room to see whether they could discover anything. They were advancing very courageously and threatening with punishment those persons who were disturbing the house; but they had no sooner entered than a stairway fell down upon them, showering them with a mass of stones, sand, and mud. They were so scared that they never returned to make another examination. I was summoned to Manila, whereupon I was delivered from that most vexatious trouble, which had continued for months; and others had much to suffer and endure. [39]

27. One of those nights, another disturbance happened; after I had already gone to bed, and the noise had quieted down a bit, the fiscal, the governor, and some other locals came into the sleeping room to see if they could find out what was going on. They walked in bravely, threatening to punish whoever was causing the trouble in the house; but as soon as they entered, a staircase collapsed on them, showering them with rocks, sand, and mud. They were so terrified that they never came back to check again. I was called to Manila, which finally freed me from that incredibly annoying issue that had gone on for months; others had it much worse, suffering and enduring a lot. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

CHAPTER VI

Of my second mission to Mindoro

About my second trip to Mindoro

1. I entered the college of Santo Thomàs for the third time, and that time it was to teach the morning classes in theology. The last of April of the following year, the archbishop assigned Don Christoval Sarmiento, cura of Nuestra Señora de Guia, as visitor of Mindoro. He asked me to go in his company, and he did not have to beg me urgently, for the air at the college was very bad for me. The father provincial gave his consent, and, having taken one of my pupils as associate, we all went up-stream together, and then crossed over to the sea; and, on the day of the Cross in May, I preached in Bacò. The devotion of the Indians to the cross is very remarkable; they venerate and celebrate it to the greatest degree imaginable. There is no Indian village which is not full of crosses, and the Indians set up and fix them with great neatness. As we entered the first visita on our way up-stream, we were overtaken by a furious storm, and passed a miserable night indeed in the boat, which was very small. For the second time we crossed over the mountain of the leeches, with great suffering. I had left the second visita until my return. A chief asked me to confess him, but I told him to wait a few days until my return, when I would have plenty of time. He insisted and begged me to hear him confess. I did so, and when I returned he was already dead. I considered that it was the result of his predestination. I remember that he confessed very well and with great tenderness of heart.

1. I entered the College of Santo Tomás for the third time, and this time it was to teach the morning theology classes. At the end of April the following year, the archbishop appointed Don Christoval Sarmiento, the priest of Nuestra Señora de Guia, as the visitor of Mindoro. He asked me to join him, and he didn't have to ask me more than once since the atmosphere at the college was really unpleasant for me. The father provincial agreed, and after bringing one of my students along as my assistant, we all traveled upstream together and then crossed over to the sea; on the Day of the Cross in May, I preached in Bacò. The devotion of the locals to the cross is quite remarkable; they honor and celebrate it to an extraordinary degree. There isn't a village that doesn't have plenty of crosses, and the locals set them up and maintain them with great care. As we entered the first visita on our way upstream, a fierce storm hit us, and we spent a truly miserable night in the tiny boat. For the second time, we crossed over the leech-infested mountain, enduring a lot of hardship. I had left the second visita for my return journey. A chief asked me to hear his confession, but I told him to wait a few days until I returned when I would have plenty of time. He insisted and begged me to confess him. I agreed, and when I came back, he was already dead. I thought this was a part of his predestination. I remember he confessed very well and with great sincerity.

2. I reached the village with the beautiful location [40]of which I have already written. But since the Camucones had in the preceding year captured the chief of it on his leaving Nanhoan, I found it changed now and all the people sad and disconsolate. I talked with his wife, who was in mourning, and confessed her. Before I had confessed her, it is true that she had never uncovered her face. Such sedateness and modesty as this is observed by many Indian women, even by villagers. I consoled her as well as I could. In another village before we reached that of Santiago, many Indians were assembled; we remained there for a considerable time. I noted there that the dogs barked excessively during the night, and, as it was a dangerous place on account of the Camucones, that caused some anxiety. I asked the Indians the reason for so much barking. They answered: “Father, there are many crocodiles in this river. When the dogs wish to cross over to the other side they gather in one spot and bark for a long time until they believe that the crocodiles have collected there (for it is a fact that is well known that crocodiles look for dogs as cats do for rats); and then, some of the dogs running above and some below, they cross over safe and secure from the crocodiles. That happens nightly, and consequently, there is no [cause for] anxiety when they are heard to bark.” I wondered, and I remembered that I had read that the dogs of the Nile region do the same thing.

2. I arrived at the village with the beautiful location [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]that I've already mentioned. But since the Camucones had captured its chief the previous year when he left Nanhoan, I found things changed, and all the people were sad and grieving. I spoke with his wife, who was in mourning, and I gave her confession. Before I confessed her, it’s true she had never uncovered her face. Such seriousness and modesty is something many Indian women maintain, even in villages. I comforted her as best as I could. In another village before we reached Santiago, many Indians had gathered; we stayed there for quite a while. I observed that the dogs were barking excessively throughout the night, and since it was a dangerous area because of the Camucones, it caused some worry. I asked the Indians why there was so much barking. They replied, “Father, there are many crocodiles in this river. When the dogs want to cross to the other side, they all gather in one spot and bark for a long time until they believe the crocodiles are gathered there (it’s well known that crocodiles look for dogs just like cats do with rats); then, some dogs run above and some below, and they cross safely, away from the crocodiles. This happens every night, so there’s no reason to worry when you hear them barking.” I was intrigued, and I recalled reading that the dogs in the Nile region do the same thing.

3. On one of those days a spy of the enemy came to us, who beguiled us with a thousand idle stories. When we began to discover somewhat of his purpose, it was impossible to find him. An Indian soon came from the other visitas with the news that ten hostile caracoas were sailing for that place. The [41]Indians took to the mountains immediately, and we were left alone with our servants. On receiving that bad news, we determined to return, grieving deeply at seeing the impediments that were unexpectedly arising to prevent our mission to the most needy villages. While returning, I heard of many skirmishes that the Indians had had with the Camucones, but the former always came off the worse. Before reaching Manila, we heard that the ship “San Diego” which arrived from Mexico with Don Pedro de Villarroel as commander, had been wrecked at Balaian. I heard the commander Don Pedro de Mendiola say that that ship had cost his Majesty more than two hundred thousand pesos. That was the famous “San Diego” which was used as a fort when the Dutch attacked Manila. All the Dutch ships discharged their artillery at it, and it received them all on one side, for it was beached. More than one thousand balls were found, and of the two thousand that were fired at it, not one passed through it. The timber of that country is uncommonly good, as is also the strength with which the ships are built. The ship which went to Acapulco that year suffered violent storms, and one huge sea carried off fourteen sailors, according to a letter that I saw. Those of the ship afterward affirmed the same thing, and they also said that when the wave that carried the men off subsided it had thrown them again into the waist of the ship, which was a piece of marvelous good fortune. He who has traveled even a little by water will have no difficulty in seeing how this could be. Years before, the sailors in Cavite say, another sea, which had broken upon a ship when making the same voyage, had dragged off thirty-six men; a great [42]wave that. Some few were saved, but the others were buried in the waters. When Don Pedro de Villarroel returned, he who is now the archbishop of Manila, Don Fray Juan Lopez, wrote me that a heavy sea had completely torn away the stern gallery. I had seen the ship before, and it was so staunch that it seems incredible that a wave should do such damage. At that time one would believe that some spirit stood in Mariveles with a cutlass in his hand, forbidding the entrance of any ship into the bay. Thus did I preach in the port of Cavite. The ship which Don Diego Faxardo had built in Camboxa came near there, and was wrecked on the Japanese shoals, where some persons of quality were drowned. After it left Mexico under command of Lorenco de Ugalde, while it was in a river, so furious a storm struck it that whatever of the ship was above water was cut away and driven ashore; and some men were flung against the masts to which they remained clinging, where they were afterwards found, to the surprise [of their rescuers]. Considerable money was lost and considerable was stolen. It was told in Manila, as a positive fact, that the commander had obtained from cards alone twelve thousand pesos between Acapulco and that place. Who would believe such a thing here? In Pangasinan there were thunder, lightning, and earthquakes; and rocks fell, and stones so large that they weighed five arrobas. Bishop Cardenas wrote about that to the governor and Audiencia, and added that he himself had seen some of the above-mentioned stones. It was inferred that the stones had come from some volcano, but no one ever heard where they had come from.

3. One day, an enemy spy came to us and dazzled us with a thousand pointless stories. As we started to figure out his intentions, he disappeared without a trace. Soon after, an Indian arrived from the other visitas with the news that ten hostile caracoas were coming our way. The [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Indians quickly fled to the mountains, leaving us alone with our servants. After receiving that bad news, we decided to turn back, feeling deeply troubled by the unexpected obstacles that were preventing our mission to help the most needy villages. On our way back, I heard about many skirmishes that the Indians had with the Camucones, but the former always ended up worse off. Before we reached Manila, we learned that the ship “San Diego,” which had come from Mexico under the command of Don Pedro de Villarroel, had been wrecked at Balaian. I heard Commander Don Pedro de Mendiola say that the ship had cost the king over two hundred thousand pesos. This was the famous “San Diego,” which served as a fort when the Dutch attacked Manila. All the Dutch ships fired their cannons at it, and it managed to withstand the blows on one side since it was beached. Over a thousand cannonballs were found, and not one of the two thousand fired at it penetrated the ship. The timber from that region is remarkably strong, and the ships built there are equally sturdy. This year, the ship that went to Acapulco faced violent storms, and one massive wave swept away fourteen sailors, according to a letter I read. The crew later confirmed this, saying that once the wave receded, it dumped them back on board, which was an extraordinary stroke of luck. Anyone who’s traveled by water even a little will understand how that could happen. Years earlier, sailors in Cavite said that another wave had taken thirty-six men from a ship making the same trip; that was quite a wave indeed. A few were saved, but the others were lost to the sea. When Don Pedro de Villarroel returned, he who is now the archbishop of Manila, Don Fray Juan Lopez, wrote to me that a heavy wave had completely torn off the stern gallery. I had seen that ship before, and it was so well-built that it seemed unbelievable for a wave to cause such destruction. At that time, one could believe that some spirit stood in Mariveles with a cutlass, blocking any ship from entering the bay. That’s how I preached in the port of Cavite. The ship that Don Diego Faxardo had built in Camboxa nearly made it, but crashed on the Japanese shoals, where some people of high standing drowned. After it left Mexico under Lorenco de Ugalde’s command, a fierce storm struck it while it was in a river, cutting away everything above water and driving it ashore. Some men were flung against the masts, where they clung on and were later found, much to the shock of their rescuers. A significant amount of money was lost and stolen. It was reported in Manila as a certainty that the commander had won twelve thousand pesos just from card games between Acapulco and that place. Who would believe such a thing here? In Pangasinan, there were thunder, lightning, and earthquakes; rocks fell, with some so massive they weighed five arrobas. Bishop Cardenas wrote to the governor and Audiencia about this and added that he himself had seen some of those stones. It was thought that the stones had come from a volcano, but no one ever discovered their origin.

3 [sic]. The loss of so many ships caused us great [43]sadness of heart. The greatest hardship fell to the Indians, for they cannot live without ships. When one is lost it is necessary to build another, and that means the cutting of wood. Six or eight thousand Indians are assembled for that task, and go to the mountains. On them falls the vast labor of cutting and dragging the timber in. To that must be added the blows that are rained down upon them, and the poor pay, and bad nourishment that they receive. At times, religious are sent to protect and defend them from the infernal fury of some Spaniards. Moreover, in the timber collected for one ship there is [actually enough] for two ships. Many gain advantage at the cost of the Indians’ sweat, and later others make a profit in Cavite, as I have seen.

3 [sic]. The loss of so many ships brought us great [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]sadness. The biggest burden fell on the Indians, because they can't survive without ships. When one is lost, it’s necessary to build another, which means cutting down trees. Six or eight thousand Indians gather for that task and head to the mountains. They bear the heavy labor of cutting and dragging in the timber. On top of that, they endure the beatings they receive, along with poor pay and inadequate food. Sometimes, religious figures are sent to protect and defend them from the outrageous anger of some Spaniards. Additionally, the wood collected for one ship is actually enough for two ships. Many benefit from the hard work of the Indians, and later, others profit in Cavite, as I have witnessed.

Map of Manila and its suburbs

Map of Manila and its suburbs

Map of Manila and its suburbs

[From MS. (dated 1671) in Archivo general de Indias, Sevilla]

[From MS. (dated 1671) in Archivo General de Indias, Sevilla]

4. Before leaving Manila, it will be apropos to say something of that island. I shall say nothing particular of the islands of Oton, Iloilo, Zibu, Marinduque, Romblon, Caraga,14 Calamianes, and others (all of which belong to our king, are inhabited by Indians, and are administered by religious or curas), for I was not in them. I know that they abound in rice, the larger cattle, wax, cotton, and the common fruits. But, as remarked, I do not know the details from experience. Only I am certain that the nests built by the swallows from the sea foam, on the crags near the shores, are valued highly, and are very delicious. When cooked with meat, they are a marvel and contain much nourishment. They are given as presents in Manila. Those which are carried to China are worth many ducados, as I wrote. They are abundant in Calamianes, but I [44]imagine that the same must be true of other islands also; for the Portuguese trade in this commodity in Sian and Camboxa for China. When dry they resemble a little ash-colored earth, but they change appearance after being washed and cooked. There is no doubt that gold is found in all the islands named, in some more than in others. The island of Manila is the largest and most celebrated. It extends from nine or ten degrees south latitude to more than nineteen in the north. From east to west it is very unequal. Manila, which is the capital of all the islands, is near a large river and very near the sea. There reside the governor, four auditors, one fiscal, the archbishop, three royal officials, the alguaçil-mayor of the court, and the municipal corporation with its two alcaldes-in-ordinary, regidors, and alguaçil mayor. The old cathedral was overthrown by the great earthquake of St. Andrew’s [day] of 46. Another was built later, but it was not finished in my time. There is a very spacious and beautiful royal chapel and the convents of St. Dominic, St. Francis, St. Augustine, the Society [of Jesus], St. Nicolas [i.e., the Recollect convent], Santa Clara, and St. John of God; besides two colleges—ours of Santo Thomas, which is a university incorporated, and affiliated with that of Mexico; and that of San Joseph, of the Society of Jesus. There is a fine royal hospital; a church of Santa Potenciana with a house for the shelter of respectable women; and a fine church of the Misericordia with a seminary where many Spanish orphan girls are reared and given dowers for marriage. The best people of Manila look after that seminary. The [post of] head brother of the Misericordia is one of the highest [47]offices in that community. When I had to preach in that church one year, I read the rules professed by that confraternity, and they instructed me in some things. One thing was, that during one of the former years they had distributed in alms alone to the respectable poor thirty-six thousand reals of eight. The city has very fine houses and palaces inside; while outside of it are orchards, gardens, and many baths, which are most necessary for relief from the excessive heat there. The walls, ramparts, cavaliers, covert-ways, and diamond-points which surround the city are as much as can be desired. The site is impregnable in itself, and, even if it were not, the fortifications are sufficient to protect the city. The artillery is heavy and excellent. It is one of the best strongholds that his Majesty owns. Outside its walls it has a Babylon of villages and people on all sides. The river girdles the wall on the north side, and has a fine bridge, which is well garrisoned. As these things are already known, I shall not spend time with them.

4. Before leaving Manila, it’s fitting to mention that island. I won’t go into detail about the islands of Oton, Iloilo, Zibu, Marinduque, Romblon, Caraga, Calamianes, and others (all of which belong to our king, are inhabited by locals, and are managed by religious leaders or curas), as I haven’t been there. I know they are rich in rice, large cattle, wax, cotton, and common fruits. However, as noted, I can’t provide specifics from experience. I am sure that the nests built by the swallows from sea foam, on the cliffs near the shore, are highly valued and very delicious. When cooked with meat, they are amazing and very nutritious. They are gifted in Manila. Those sent to China are worth many ducados, as I mentioned. They are plentiful in Calamianes, but I imagine the same must hold true for other islands as well; the Portuguese trade in this item in Sian and Camboxa for China. When dry, they look like little grayish earth, but they change appearance after being washed and cooked. There’s no doubt that gold is found in all the named islands, some more than others. The island of Manila is the largest and most famous. It stretches from about nine or ten degrees south latitude to over nineteen degrees north. East to west, its shape is quite irregular. Manila, which is the capital of all the islands, is close to a major river and very near the sea. This is where the governor, four auditors, one fiscal, the archbishop, three royal officials, the mayor of the court, and the municipal council with its two alcaldes-in-ordinary, regidors, and mayor reside. The old cathedral was destroyed in the great earthquake on St. Andrew’s Day in '46. Another was built later, but it wasn’t completed in my time. There is a very spacious and beautiful royal chapel and the convents of St. Dominic, St. Francis, St. Augustine, the Society [of Jesus], St. Nicolas [i.e., the Recollect convent], Santa Clara, and St. John of God; in addition to two colleges—ours of Santo Thomas, which is a university incorporated and affiliated with that of Mexico; and that of San Joseph, of the Society of Jesus. There is a fine royal hospital; a church of Santa Potenciana that has a house for the shelter of respectable women; and a lovely church of the Misericordia with a seminary where many Spanish orphan girls are raised and provided with dowries for marriage. The best people of Manila take care of that seminary. The head brother of the Misericordia is one of the highest offices in that community. When I had to preach in that church one year, I read the rules followed by that confraternity, and they informed me about several things. One was that, in a previous year, they had distributed in alms alone to the respectable poor thirty-six thousand reals of eight. The city has very nice houses and palaces inside; while outside are orchards, gardens, and many baths, which are very necessary for relief from the intense heat there. The walls, ramparts, lookout points, paths, and fortifications surrounding the city are quite impressive. The location is naturally strong, and even if it weren’t, the defenses are adequate to protect the city. The artillery is heavy and top-notch. It’s one of the best fortresses that His Majesty owns. Outside its walls is a sprawling network of villages and people all around. The river encircles the wall on the north side, and there is a good bridge, which is well-guarded. Since these details are already known, I won’t dwell on them.

5. In their books the Chinese have mentioned the island of Manila, which they call Liu Sung.15 [48]They say that it is a land where gold abounds, and in that they say truly and rightly. The provinces of Pangasinan and Ilocos are more remarkable in this regard than any other. Rice is abundant and good. There is the rice of forty days, so that it is sown, grows, and is dried, harvested, and eaten in forty days—a very remarkable thing. There is rice of two months, of three, and of five. There are also fine lands for wheat, if there were any system and method in sowing it. If any Indians sow it, it is levied upon in the king’s name; and consequently, the Indians do not devote themselves to that work. In my time, wheat was worth ninety pesos per fanega. If they would sow it in that country, it would be very cheap. The larger cattle are too cheap, so greatly have they multiplied. A large and strong bull is worth four pesos, according to the established price. Goats are not wanting, and there are innumerable deer and very many buffaloes. The males of the buffaloes have been crossed with cows, and the result has been a third and very strange-appearing species. There are ducks, chickens, sugar, wax, and wood that is called here Brazil-wood; there is so much of this that it costs only the cutting. Excellent rattan is found in the greatest abundance, and more than enough cotton to clothe the people of the country. Wines and brandy, made from nipa and other materials, are not wanting, nor people to drink them. There are many delicious fruits. The guayava,16 which has spread so fast that it is destroying the pasturage, is the finest [kind of fruit]—raw, [49]cooked, prepared in preserves, and in jelly; it is good in all forms. The reason why it has multiplied to such an extent is that crows and birds eat of it and afterward drop the stones to the ground, and wherever the latter fall they take root. The Portuguese told me that the sandalwood of the island of Timor had increased in that way, without any other labor, as I have already written. That tree also bears a small fruit which the birds eat, and whose stones they reject which immediately take root without any other cultivation being necessary. There are macupas, bilimbins, pahos, santols, and papaws,17 any of which can compete with the best fruit here. There is also the nangca,18 which is the best fruit in the world. Some of them weigh over forty libras. They are delicious, and the nuts or seeds which each mouthful encloses in itself are very savory, raw or roasted. This fruit grows on the trunk of the tree, and on the large branches, but not on the small ones, as it would be impossible for their weight to be borne there. That tree has no flower. Father Kirquero19 [50]greatly admired that fruit, and the fruit of the pineapple (or ananasses, as the Portuguese call them). He says that they have those fruits in China, but he was deceived in that regard; they grow in that part of the world, but not in China. The Portuguese praise the ananasses of Malaca highly. They are good, and without doubt there is but little difference between them and those of Manila; even those which I ate in Nueva España seemed just like them. The small sapota and black sapotas, which are numerous and good, grow there.20 There are found, above all, ates,21 which for odor and taste I [51]consider superior to all the fruits that God has created. There are bananas, seven or eight varieties, some better than others; and the same [may be said] of oranges. The lemons of Manila are small. Flowers of innumerable varieties are found, and odoriferous herbs in the same way. Sweet basil and sage grow in the plain, so tall and wide-spreading that it is a wonder to see them. There are many palms—cocoa, areca, and other species. The cocoas are the most useful. Before the cocoanut sprouts from the flower-stalk, a precious liquor is extracted which is called tuba by the Indians, and in Eastern India sura. It is distilled at night, and is a delicious and most healthful beverage by morning. If it be boiled it lasts all day. A fine syrup and excellent honey are made from it, and I have made them. The distillations of the day are made into wine, and also into the finest of vinegar. A fine tow is made from the outside shell of the cocoanut, which is used for the calking of ships and other craft. Excellent ropes and fuses are made of it for all sorts of firearms, which are used by the musketeers and arquebusiers. From the inside shell are made elegant drinking-cups for water and chocolate. The water contained inside the cocoanut is drunk, and, if the cocoanut is tender, it is a very sweet and healthful beverage. The cocoanut is roasted for the sick, and after it settles the said water is drunk and produces excellent results. From the white flesh into which the water is gradually converted, a milk is extracted, with which they cook many of their eatables, among these their rice. An excellent conserve called buchayo by the Indians is made from it. Good oil is also extracted from this nut; and from the residue [52]of that process the natives and creoles make a very savory dish with rice. There remain then the trunk and branches [of the tree], which have many other uses. The bamboos are also very useful. Some of them are as thick as the thigh. Chairs, tables, houses, very large churches, fences about the stockyards, scaffolds for buildings, and innumerable other things are made from them. There is an abundance of fish, fine shellfish, including oysters, iguanas,22 (which, although they have an infernal shape, are the finest kind of food), and the finest shads and pampanos. In the island of Manila and other islands dependent on it only a little coolness is needed, although there are parts somewhat temperate. For the rest, nothing else is needed than to take care of them. Other persons will secure rich harvests, but his Majesty gets nothing, although private persons gain from all of them. That country has temperatures for all products that are desired—for wheat, cloves, cinnamon, and pepper, and for mulberry trees from which the silkworms are fed. There is considerable excellent tobacco. Ebony in as great quantities as are desired, and sandalwood (although it is not fine) are also found in the mountains. Precious stones called bezoars are found in deer; I saw a very fine one, valued, it was said, at many ducados. A deer had been struck with a harpoon, which remained in the deer’s body while the animal still lived. After [53]some time the deer was killed, and the harpoon was found in its proper shape all covered with bezoar. One point was broken off, and in that way the head was laid bare, to the wonder of all who saw it. As arrowheads are poisoned, it was said that that stone, as it had prevented the poison of the said harpoon, must be a marvelous antidote against all poisons. I forgot to consider the fertility of the land of Manila. It suffices to say that six short leguas from that city there are certain lands, called Tunacan,23 which yield one hundred and thirty fanegas of rice to one fanega sown in them.24 That appears to me to be as much as can be desired.

5. In their books, the Chinese have mentioned the island of Manila, which they call Liu Sung. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] They say it’s a place where gold is plentiful, and they are correct. The provinces of Pangasinan and Ilocos are particularly noted for this. Rice is abundant and of good quality. There is a variety known as "forty-day rice," which can be sown, grown, dried, harvested, and eaten in just forty days—a remarkable feat. There are also two-month, three-month, and five-month types of rice. The land is suitable for wheat too, if there were any proper planting methods in place. If any locals do grow it, the taxes are collected in the king's name, so they often avoid that work. During my time, wheat was valued at ninety pesos per fanega. If they grew it here, it would be very affordable. Cattle have become so plentiful that their prices have dropped significantly. A large, strong bull costs about four pesos, fixed at that price. Goats are common, and there are many deer and buffalo. The male buffalo have been crossbred with cows, resulting in a third, very unusual breed. There are ducks, chickens, sugar, wax, and plenty of Brazil-wood; it's so abundant that you only need to pay for the cutting. Excellent rattan is found everywhere, along with more than enough cotton for the people’s needs. Wines and brandy made from nipa and other ingredients are available, as well as people eager to drink them. There are lots of delicious fruits. The guava, which has spread so fast that it’s destroying the pastures, is the best kind—whether raw, cooked, preserved, or made into jelly; it’s tasty in any form. It has multiplied so much because crows and birds eat it and drop the seeds, which then take root where they land. The Portuguese told me that the sandalwood from the island of Timor grew in the same way, without any other intervention, as I've mentioned before. That tree also produces a small fruit that birds eat, and its seeds fall to the ground and grow by themselves. There are also macupas, bilimbins, pahos, santols, and papayas, any of which can compete with the finest fruits. The nangca, considered the best fruit in the world, can weigh over forty libras. They’re delicious, and the seeds they contain are quite tasty, whether raw or roasted. This fruit grows on the trunk of the tree and on its large branches, not the small ones, as they can’t support the weight. This tree has no flowers. Father Kirquero [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] greatly admired this fruit and the pineapple (or ananasses, as the Portuguese call them). He said that they have these fruits in China, but he was mistaken; they grow in that region but not in China. The Portuguese highly praise the ananasses from Malaca. They are good, and there’s hardly any difference between them and those from Manila; even the ones I tasted in Nueva España seemed identical. The small sapota and black sapotas, which are numerous and tasty, grow here. Above all, there are ates, which, in terms of aroma and flavor, I [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] believe to be superior to all the fruits created by God. There are many bananas, with seven or eight varieties, some better than others; the same goes for oranges. The lemons from Manila are small. A variety of flowers can be found, along with fragrant herbs. Sweet basil and sage grow tall and wide in the plains—an impressive sight. There are many types of palms—cocoa, areca, and others. The cocoa palms are especially useful. Before the coconut sprouts from the flower stalk, a sweet liquid is collected, known as tuba by the locals and sura in Eastern India. It’s distilled at night and makes a delicious and nutritious drink by morning. If boiled, it can be consumed all day. A fine syrup and excellent honey are made from it, and I’ve made them myself. The day’s distillations can be turned into wine and the finest vinegar. A soft fiber is sourced from the coconut's outer shell, used for sealing ships and other vessels. Sturdy ropes and fuses for firearms used by musketeers and arquebusiers are made from it. The inner shell is fashioned into elegant drinking cups for water and chocolate. The water inside coconuts can be consumed, and if the coconut is tender, it’s a very sweet and healthy drink. The coconut is roasted for the sick, and after it settles, the liquid is consumed, yielding excellent results. From the white pulp, as the water is transformed, a milk is extracted that’s used to cook various dishes, including rice. An excellent conserve called buchayo by the locals is made from it. Good oil is also extracted from this nut, and the left-over residue is used by the natives and creoles to create a very tasty dish with rice. The trunk and branches of the tree also have many other uses. Bamboo is very useful too, with some as thick as a thigh. Chairs, tables, houses, large churches, fences around stockyards, scaffolding for construction, and countless other items are made from it. There’s an abundance of fish, fine shellfish including oysters, iguanas, (which, despite their fearsome appearance, are considered a delicacy), and top-quality shads and pampanos. In Manila and its surrounding islands, a little coolness is all that’s needed, although there are some temperate areas. All that’s required is to care for the land. Others may harvest wealth, but the king gets nothing, while private individuals benefit from everything. This land has climates suitable for all desired products—wheat, cloves, cinnamon, pepper, and mulberry trees for raising silkworms. There’s a significant amount of excellent tobacco. Ebony and sandalwood (although of lesser quality) can also be found in the mountains. Precious stones known as bezoars are found in deer; I saw one valued at many ducados. A deer was struck with a harpoon that remained lodged in its body while the animal lived. After [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] a while, the deer was killed, and the harpoon was found intact, covered in bezoar. A piece was broken off, revealing the head, to everyone’s amazement. Since arrowheads are poisoned, it was said that this stone, having protected against the poison of the harpoon, must be an incredible antidote. I almost forgot to mention the fertility of Manila's land. It's enough to say that just six short leguas from the city are certain lands called Tunacan, which yield one hundred thirty fanegas of rice for every fanega sown there. That seems to me as much as anyone could wish for.

6. Other minor matters pertaining to Manila were overlooked by me, which it is not proper to bury in silence. One is of a seminary for boys, called San Juan de Letran. It was founded by a religious, a lay-brother of my order, one Fray Diego de Santa Maria.25 In my time it had more than two hundred [54]boys, and was of great benefit to those islands. The way in which the boys were managed was inimitable in any other seminary. They were taught reading, writing, grammar, and music there. Those who studied the arts and theology went to our college. They were given two suits of clothes per year, and received religious instruction. In the morning, before breakfast, they recited aloud in chorus one-third of the rosary, at noon another third, and at evening the remaining third, and the salve chanted with the litany of our Lady; and at midnight of important feasts, the matins. While they were eating at dinner and supper one of them read at the table. They confessed and took communion every month, and were punished or rewarded. Some of those boys became soldiers, some secular priests, and some took the habit in the convents of St. Francis, St. Augustine, and St. Dominic, so that the seminary was a general camp of soldiers, both temporal and spiritual. An encomienda was obtained from his Majesty to aid in their support. Alms were obtained from burials26 and also from the Indians. It is certainly a heroic work. I am told that they have been taken inside the city now, and the most influential religious of the province live there, and, during these later years, those who have been provincials of the order.

6. I overlooked some other minor issues related to Manila that shouldn't just be ignored. One of them is a boys' seminary called San Juan de Letran. It was established by a member of my order, a lay brother named Fray Diego de Santa Maria. 25 At that time, it had more than two hundred [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] boys and was really beneficial to those islands. The way the boys were managed was unique compared to other seminaries. They were taught reading, writing, grammar, and music. Those who studied the arts and theology continued to our college. Each boy received two sets of clothes a year and received religious teachings. In the morning, before breakfast, they recited one-third of the rosary in unison, another third at noon, and the last third in the evening, along with the salve chanted with our Lady's litany; on significant feast days, they had midnight matins. While having their meals at dinner and supper, one of them would read aloud at the table. They confessed and took communion every month and faced punishment or rewards. Some of these boys became soldiers, some became secular priests, and some took vows in the convents of St. Francis, St. Augustine, and St. Dominic, making the seminary a sort of training ground for both military and spiritual leaders. A royal grant was obtained to help support them. Donations were gathered from burials 26 and from the local Indians. It truly is a noble effort. I've been told they have now moved inside the city, where the most prominent religious figures in the province reside, including those who have been provincials of the order in recent years.

7. All of us in this country see another very peculiar thing—namely, that although the city is [55]small, and the Spaniards few in number, yet thousands of Chinese, mestizos, and natives are maintained for their service, so that there are about two hundred Chinese carpenters in the Parián, beside those of the other trades, and all of them are always employed in Manila by the Spaniards. There are about two hundred Chinese and mestizo barbers, all of whom live on the Spaniards; and others in the same proportion. Outside the walls there is a famous hospital for the natives, which is well taken care of by the Franciscan fathers who have charge of it. Opposite the fortress of San Gabriel lies our charge, namely, the care of the Chinese. There one finds a Chinese physician, Chinese medicines, a religious who understands the Chinese language, a nurse, and servants who have charge of everything. Rarely does one die without baptism, and many of them show abundant signs of salvation. All the neighborhood of Manila, except the part that borders on the sea, is filled with villages and churches—that of the Parián being ours, where there is always a religious who knows the Chinese language. Dilao is a village of Japanese, and has a Franciscan religious. The parish church of Santiago is for Spaniards who live outside the walls; also that of Nuestra Señora de Guia, which has a very miraculous image. Our image of the Rosary is most miraculous, and it is the consolation of all the city and of the islands. It is said that they have made imperial crowns for the Son and the Mother, even more precious than those which I said were possessed by our Lady of the Rosary and her Blessed Son in Mexico. The Recollect fathers of our father St. Augustine have [an image], an Ecce Homo, which [56]excites devotion most powerfully, and has been taken to the hearts of all people. It was placed in position amid great rejoicing and imposing ceremonies, shortly after the arrival of Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara—who took part therein very fervently, and who went to hear mass in that sanctuary every Friday throughout the year.

7. Everyone in this country notices something very unusual—namely, that even though the city is [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]small and the Spaniards are few in number, there are still thousands of Chinese, mestizos, and natives working for them. For example, there are around two hundred Chinese carpenters in the Parián, not to mention others in different trades, and they are all constantly employed by the Spaniards in Manila. There are about two hundred Chinese and mestizo barbers, all supported by the Spaniards, along with others in similar numbers. Outside the city walls, there’s a well-maintained hospital for the natives run by the Franciscan fathers. Across from the fortress of San Gabriel is our responsibility—the care of the Chinese. There you can find a Chinese doctor, Chinese medicines, a clergy member who speaks Chinese, a nurse, and staff overseeing everything. It’s rare for someone to die without being baptized, and many of them clearly show signs of salvation. The area around Manila, except for the part by the sea, is filled with villages and churches—ours being in the Parián, where there’s always a clergy member who knows Chinese. Dilao is a village of Japanese people, and it has a Franciscan clergy member. The parish church of Santiago serves Spaniards living outside the walls, as does Nuestra Señora de Guia, which is home to a very miraculous image. Our image of the Rosary is incredibly miraculous and brings comfort to the whole city and the islands. It is said that they’ve made imperial crowns for the Son and the Mother that are even more precious than those owned by our Lady of the Rosary and her Blessed Son in Mexico. The Recollect fathers of our father St. Augustine have an image, an Ecce Homo, which [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]powerfully inspires devotion and has been embraced by everyone. It was set up amidst great celebration and impressive ceremonies, shortly after the arrival of Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara—who took part in this fervently and attended mass in that sanctuary every Friday of the year.

8. Some influential persons of the city died during those years. Among them were Don Francisco Diaz de Mendoça, noble, virtuous, and beloved by all; the commander Don Pedro de Mendiola, a fine soldier and very gentlemanly, who was governor of Terrenate and castellan of Cavite, and held other important posts; Sargento-mayor Navarro, or, as he was otherwise called, “the just judge” (his father-in-law, Diego Enriquez de Losada, a man of well-known virtue, was drowned in the Camboxa ship). Of the secular priests died the two best bonnets27 that those islands have had, namely, Don Juan de Ledo and Don Alonso Zapata, both dignidades of the cathedral and doctors of our university, and notable in teaching and in the pulpit. I believe that no one of the dignidades of my time is still living.

8. Some influential people in the city passed away during those years. Among them were Don Francisco Diaz de Mendoça, a noble, virtuous man who was loved by all; Commander Don Pedro de Mendiola, a fine soldier and very gentlemanly, who was the governor of Terrenate and the castellan of Cavite, as well as holding other important positions; Sargento-mayor Navarro, also known as “the just judge” (his father-in-law, Diego Enriquez de Losada, a man of well-known virtue, drowned on the Camboxa ship). Among the secular priests, the two best-suited individuals that those islands have had, namely, Don Juan de Ledo and Don Alonso Zapata, both dignitaries of the cathedral and doctors of our university, were notable for their teaching and preaching. I believe that no one from the dignitaries of my time is still alive.

9. The members of the Audiencia of that time were Don Sebastian Cavallero de Medina, a creole of Mexico; Don Albaro Fernandez de Ocampo, a native of Madrid; Don Francisco Samaniego y Ivesta, a Montañes; and Don Salvador de Espinosa, a creole of Vera-Cruz; and the fiscal, Don N. de Bolivar. All showed me many favors. I have dedicated conclusions28 to the second and third, and [57]others afterward also to Don Sabiniano who was present in the royal Audiencia. [Then there were] the master-of-camp, Don Pedro de Almonte, and the sargento-mayor, Don Martin de Ocadiz, who had gone as commandant of the relief sent that year to Terrenate. The commissary of the Holy Office was father Fray Francisco de Paula, who had been provincial, and filled that office for the second time afterward, a man of great influence in all things. At that time, then, I resolved to leave the islands.

9. The members of the Audiencia at that time were Don Sebastian Cavallero de Medina, a creole from Mexico; Don Albaro Fernandez de Ocampo, who was from Madrid; Don Francisco Samaniego y Ivesta, a Montañes; and Don Salvador de Espinosa, a creole from Vera-Cruz; along with the fiscal, Don N. de Bolivar. They all did me many favors. I have dedicated conclusions28 to the second and third, and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] others later also to Don Sabiniano, who was present in the royal Audiencia. [Then there were] the master-of-camp, Don Pedro de Almonte, and the sargento-mayor, Don Martin de Ocadiz, who had gone as the commander of the relief sent that year to Terrenate. The commissary of the Holy Office was Father Fray Francisco de Paula, who had been provincial and held that position for the second time afterward, a man of great influence in all matters. At that time, I decided to leave the islands.

10. A very holy and Catholic action that occurred in Manila during the preceding years had slipped my memory; it is very proper that it be known by all, and venerated and applauded by the sons of the Church. When the Catholics were exiled from Japon, they went, as is known, to Manila. The welcome, good treatment, kindnesses, and presents that were showered upon those confessors of Jesus Christ cannot be imagined; the people tried to outdo one another in showing their piety. Not a few sick and leprous persons arrived, and yet was charity so great that they were taken into the houses to be treated; and those who obtained some of them even considered themselves fortunate. They were regarded as saints, and were esteemed a great reliquary of inestimable value. Governor, auditors, citizens, religious, and soldiers engaged in a scuffle,29 in common phrase, in order to secure a Japanese whether well or sick. No doubt that caused great edification among the heathen people from China, who were watching everything. Although the Chinese see and notice our faults, on that occasion they experienced the marvelous effects of our holy law. To have [58]there such and so many witnesses must have made them see that our conduct and mode of living was such that they would recognize it here and glorify our God and Lord.... I heard later that some of the people in Europa did not act so kindly to the exiles from Irlanda....

10. A very holy and Catholic event that happened in Manila in recent years had slipped my mind; it’s important that everyone knows about it and honors it, applauding it as the children of the Church should. When the Catholics were exiled from Japan, they went, as you know, to Manila. The welcome, kindness, and generosity that were shown to those followers of Jesus Christ is beyond imagination; the people tried to outdo each other in demonstrating their piety. A number of sick and leprosy-stricken individuals arrived, yet the charity was so immense that they were taken into homes for care; those who took in any of them considered themselves fortunate. They were seen as saints and were valued as a priceless treasure. Governor, officials, citizens, clergy, and soldiers were all scrambling—29—to secure a Japanese person, whether they were well or ill. This definitely provided a strong impression on the non-believers from China who were observing everything. Although the Chinese see and criticize our faults, in that moment they witnessed the amazing impact of our sacred beliefs. Having [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] so many witnesses there must have made them realize that our behavior and way of life were such that they would acknowledge it here and praise our God and Lord.... I heard later that some people in Europe did not treat the exiles from Ireland so kindly....

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

CHAPTER VII

Of the departure from Manila, and the voyage to Macasar

About the departure from Manila and the journey to Macasar

1. Don Sabiniano Manrique was governing to the satisfaction of the community. No governor in the world has ever kept all the people satisfied, or ever will. However, some restless fellows were not wanting, a thing that no human prudence can avoid. But it is a very strong argument for his good government that the commander Don Francisco Enriquez de Losada wrote in the year sixty-six (and I have his letter in my possession) that all the people, and especially the religious, were calling for Don Sabiniano. I never heard that they cried out for others. This is most sufficient testimony for the praise and credit of that illustrious gentleman. Although his Lordship had given me his word to provide me with quarters in the ship which was going to Acapulco that year, the terror that reigned in my soul at the thought of passing those seas, and other things, induced me to take passage with my old friend, the commander Christoval Romero. All my viaticum and supplies resolved themselves into sixty reals of eight, four tunics, and two habits, that I might travel more lightly and unimpeded. I left my cloak with a friend, and went without that and other things [59]No voyage by water can be assured, even if only for a few leguas; and it is folly to appoint it for fixed days.

1. Don Sabiniano Manrique was governing to the satisfaction of the community. No governor in the world has ever kept everyone satisfied, nor will they ever. However, some restless individuals were always around, which is something no amount of human wisdom can prevent. Still, a strong argument for his good governance is that Commander Don Francisco Enriquez de Losada wrote in the year sixty-six (and I have his letter on hand) that everyone, especially the religious, were calling for Don Sabiniano. I never heard them asking for anyone else. This is more than enough proof of the praise and reputation of that distinguished gentleman. Although his Lordship had promised me a spot on the ship going to Acapulco that year, the fear that filled my soul at the thought of crossing those seas, among other things, led me to take a journey with my old friend, Commander Christoval Romero. All my travel funds and supplies amounted to sixty reals of eight, four tunics, and two habits, so I could travel lighter and without hindrance. I left my cloak with a friend and went without it and other things [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]No sea voyage can be guaranteed, even for just a few leagues; and it's foolish to set fixed dates for it.

2. We set sail on the fourteenth of February, and I confess that I was soon depressed, and feared that the voyage would turn out ill; for the seamen, who in accordance with all good reasoning ought to live with greater discretion and fear, commenced to go astray. The east winds were blustering by that time, but to us it appeared that they had shut themselves up in their secret treasuries. We reached Zamboanga March six, where we met the relief ship that was en route to Terrenate. It had taken on rice and meat at Oton, and their commandant was already dead. At seven o’clock at night we continued our journey, and in a sudden squall the sail swept our best sailor into the sea, and he stayed there. That misfortune increased my terrors. During our crossing to the island of Macasar, a distance of sixty leguas, the storms were furious; the waves the most terrible ever seen; the samatras most powerful, although of short duration; and, above all, pilots were unreliable. One morning we awoke to find ourselves among some rugged cliffs and huge rocks; I know not how that boat got among them without being dashed to pieces. We escaped out of that danger, to fall into greater ones. In four or five days we found the weather very clear until half-past eleven o’clock; but when we went to take [observations of] the sun the sky would be darkened and covered with clouds, and we with gloom. The shore was on our left hand—at a distance of about two leguas at times, as we found out afterward; but it was so covered with clouds that we could not descry it. We proceeded [60]for one day with a most favoring wind and weather straight toward our objective point. Our people fancied that it was an immense bay, and seeing land to the north, went thither in that mistaken belief. The current opposed us so powerfully that, the wind having freshened considerably, we could not gain a palmo of land. As we then were, we should have reached Macasar in one week; but my sins were the reason why we did not arrive until the following October. To reach that land, we placed ourselves in the care of God and fortune. On Holy Saturday, (the last of March) when we tried to cast anchor we felt the boat ground upon some shoals. I cannot describe the confusion that arose, and what I saw and suffered. All cried out “Lower the sails!” but no one attempted to lower them. I got into a corner to commend myself to God, for I thought that the end had come. The sea went down, and we saw that we were surrounded by sandbanks and shoals, except for the channel, through which we had sailed under the guidance of God. The stern was in fourteen brazas and the bow was hard and fast. We worked more than half the night; and, luckily for us, the weather was clear and calm. The sea rose, and, with the tow-ropes that were cast out and the other efforts that were made, the ship was set afloat without having sprung a leak. At dawn we set sail once more. O! what a sad Easter was ours! Our supplies were daily diminishing, and the perplexity in which we were was increasing hourly. In fine, after a week we found ourselves embayed, and could find no outlet into the sea. Small boats were plying to and fro in that region. They took us for pirates, and we took them for robbers, so that we fled from each other [61]without finding any way of getting light on the place where we were. We had already found by the sun that we were lost, for we were two degrees in north latitude, which did not accord with our sailing directions. We spent another week in getting out of that bay. We saw clearly the land of the other side, and as we had good weather to cross the commander wished, contrary to the opinion of all, to remain and to anchor until next day. As we were eating he said to us: “All oppose me. Is not your Reverence of my opinion that we should cross on Saturday morning?” I answered “Sir, the best time for crossing is when God gives us a good wind.” He was silent, but stuck to his opinion. At three in the afternoon on the second day of the crossing, on the eve of St. Mark, so strong a southwester arose, that it was necessary to run before the wind, near shore, without knowing of the shoals that were there. That was one of the most wretched nights that I have passed on sea. The mainsail was torn into shreds, the yard was broken, the foremast was snapped off, and the rod of the steering-gear was broken. We all went into the cabin, and recited the rosary and the litanies of our Lady, waiting for what God was going to do with us. All had already confessed. After midnight, being worn out, I fell asleep in a little corner. When I awakened, the wind had ceased, but the dead seas troubled us greatly. We saw land near us, and certain landmarks were recognized, by which we were not a little consoled. We had been one and one-half months in that region. We there encountered the island called Diablo [i.e., Devil’s Island], and we could have entered the kingdom of Totole, if our courage had not failed us. The commander [62]resolved to turn back and go to the kingdom of Bohol,30 in order to lay in fresh supplies. The journey was half over when the wind veered to the bow, and we again ran before it. Thus did we plow through that sea. We returned the second time to Bohol. We were all but gone, and it was my counsel to return. The commander said: “Father, some angel spoke through your Reverence’s lips; for it is a foregone conclusion that we would perish if the furious wind which arose had taken us where we were the day before.” Some things were purchased. We carried thence an Indian from Manila, now half Moroized, who afterward proved a great consolation to us, as he was most experienced on that coast. On Corpus Christi day we anchored near Totole, where we found Captain Navarro, who was also going to Macasar in another champan. We were very joyful at that, although our joy was short-lived. By the variation of time during the voyage which is made through Eastern India, it is well known that twelve hours are gained, while a like time is lost in our Indias. From Terrenate to India the reckoning of the Portuguese is observed. According to our reckoning, we reached that place on Corpus Christi day (a Thursday) which those who were en route from Terrenate reckoned as Friday; so that we had eaten flesh at noon, and at night when we were in the port we ate fish. We lost that day, as well as the following one, which was Saturday—so that, if we had anchored at midnight, we would properly [63]have had a week without any Friday, and only five days long. As for the divine office, although I was not under obligation to recite all the prayers for Friday, I recited, since I had time and to spare, those for Thursday and those for Friday on the very day of Corpus Christi.

2. We set sail on February fourteenth, and I admit I quickly became anxious, fearing the voyage would go poorly; because the sailors, who should have acted more wisely and cautiously, started to misbehave. By that time, the east winds were howling, but it felt like they were locked away in their hidden vaults. We reached Zamboanga on March sixth, where we encountered the relief ship heading to Terrenate. It had picked up rice and meat at Oton, and its commander was already dead. At seven o'clock that night, we resumed our journey, and in a sudden storm, the sail threw our best sailor overboard, and he was lost. This misfortune heightened my fears. During our journey to the island of Macasar, about sixty leguas away, the storms were fierce; the waves were the most terrifying I had ever seen; the squalls were powerful, though brief; and, above all, the pilots were unreliable. One morning, we woke up surrounded by rugged cliffs and huge rocks; I can't explain how that boat managed to navigate among them without being smashed to pieces. We escaped that danger only to face even greater ones. After four or five days, we had clear weather until around eleven-thirty; but when we tried to take sun readings, the sky darkened and was covered with clouds, and we were engulfed in gloom. The shore was on our left, about two leguas away at times, which we discovered later; but it was so obscured by clouds that we could not see it. We sailed [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]for one day with a favorable wind and weather directly toward our goal. Our crew thought it was an enormous bay, and seeing land to the north, headed there in that mistaken belief. The current pushed against us so strongly that, even with the wind picking up considerably, we couldn't gain an inch of land. As we were, we should have reached Macasar in a week; but because of my failings, we didn’t arrive until the following October. To get to that land, we entrusted ourselves to God and fate. On Holy Saturday (the last of March), when we tried to anchor, our boat ran aground on some shoals. I can’t describe the chaos that erupted, and what I saw and felt. Everyone shouted, “Lower the sails!” but no one did anything. I went to a corner to pray, believing it was the end. The sea calmed down, and we saw that we were surrounded by sandbanks and shoals, except for the channel we had sailed through with God’s guidance. The stern was in fourteen brazas of water, and the bow was stuck fast. We worked for more than half the night, and fortunately, the weather was clear and calm. The sea rose, and with the towing ropes we threw out and other efforts we made, the ship was freed without springing a leak. At dawn, we set sail again. O! what a bleak Easter we had! Our supplies were dwindling daily, and our confusion grew by the hour. In short, after a week, we found ourselves stranded, with no way out to the sea. Small boats were moving around the area. They took us for pirates, and we suspected they were thieves, so we avoided each other [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]without managing to find out where we were. By calculating with the sun, we realized we were lost, being two degrees north latitude, which didn’t match our sailing directions. We spent another week trying to escape that bay. We clearly saw the land on the other side, and since the weather was favorable for the crossing, the commander, against everyone’s advice, wanted to stay and anchor until the next day. While we were eating, he said, “Everyone opposes me. Don’t you agree we should cross on Saturday morning?” I replied, “Sir, the best time to cross is when God provides a good wind.” He fell silent but held on to his idea. At three in the afternoon on the second day of our crossing, the eve of St. Mark, a strong southwester blew up, forcing us to run before the wind, near shore, unaware of the hidden shoals. That was one of the most miserable nights I experienced at sea. The mainsail was shredded, the yard was broken, the foremast snapped off, and the steering-gear rod broke. We all gathered in the cabin and recited the rosary and the litanies to our Lady, waiting to see what God would do with us. Everyone had already confessed. After midnight, exhausted, I fell asleep in a little corner. When I woke up, the wind had calmed, but the still seas troubled us greatly. We saw land nearby, and we recognized certain landmarks, which offered us some comfort. We had spent one and a half months in that area. We encountered the island called Diablo (i.e., Devil’s Island), and we could have entered the kingdom of Totole if we hadn’t lost our nerve. The commander [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]decided to turn back and go to the kingdom of Bohol to get fresh supplies. We were halfway when the wind changed direction, and we had to run before it once more. We plowed through that sea. We returned to Bohol for the second time. We were almost done for, and I advised returning. The commander said: “Father, it seems an angel spoke through your lips; for it is certain we would have perished had the fierce wind taken us where we were the day before.” We purchased some supplies. We took with us an Indian from Manila, now half Moroized, who later proved to be a great comfort as he was very familiar with that coast. On Corpus Christi day, we anchored near Totole, where we found Captain Navarro, who was also heading to Macasar in another champan. We were very glad about that, although our joy was short-lived. Due to the time difference during the voyage through Eastern India, it’s well known that twelve hours are gained, while the same time is lost in our Indias. From Terrenate to India, the Portuguese reckoning is followed. According to our calculations, we reached that place on Corpus Christi day (a Thursday), which those heading from Terrenate counted as Friday; so we had eaten meat at noon, and that evening, once we arrived at the port, we had fish. We lost that day, as well as the next one, which was Saturday—so that if we had anchored at midnight, we would properly [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]have had a week without any Friday, and only five days long. As for the divine office, although I wasn’t obligated to recite all the prayers for Friday, I still did, since I had the time, reciting those for Thursday and those for Friday on the very day of Corpus Christi.

3. We bought a quantity of sago31 there, called by the Indians in Manila yoro. It is the heart of certain palm-trees; when soaked, it makes a yellow meal (properly it looks like yellow sand). Certain cakes are made from it which serve that people in lieu of bread; we lived on it for six months. Although it is a good food for Europeans, at times it fails to satisfy the hunger. Sometimes it seemed insipid food, but at others it tasted good. That tree is so flexible that it is never cut although it may be more than one vara in circumference. In Manila the Indians eat this food in time of need. That caused us considerable pity when we saw it, for really it is only pounded wood; but then it seemed to us to be a great dainty. That site [i.e., Totole] lay in a trifle over one degree north latitude. From ten until two the sun beat down fiercely, but, at that hour, a heavy shower fell every day, and there were terrible thunders and heavy winds that cooled off [64]everything; and the nights were so cool that we had to put on heavy clothing.

3. We bought a bunch of sago31 there, which the Indians in Manila call yoro. It's made from the heart of certain palm trees; once soaked, it turns into a yellow meal (it looks kind of like yellow sand). They make certain cakes from it that the locals eat instead of bread; we survived on it for six months. Although it's decent food for Europeans, sometimes it doesn't really satisfy hunger. At times it felt bland, while other times it was quite tasty. That tree is so flexible that it's never cut down, even if it's more than one vara in circumference. In Manila, the locals eat this when they’re in need. We felt quite sorry when we saw it, because it really is just pounded wood; yet, it seemed like a delicacy to us. That place [i.e., Totole] was just a little over one degree north latitude. From ten to two, the sun beat down fiercely, but around that time, a heavy shower would fall every day, accompanied by terrible thunder and strong winds that cooled everything down [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]; the nights were so cool that we had to wear heavy clothes.

4. Captain Navarro and the commander agreed between themselves to winter there. Our anger at that was great. Two other passengers and I tried to buy a boat from the king and to go away in it. Having made the agreement and paid the money, the king went back on his bargain, and kept more than one-half of the sum paid. He was a great rogue, although he treated me with much honor, and always seated me near himself. Some very ridiculous things happened to me with him. His palace was a little hut of bamboos and straw; but he bore himself there with an incredible majesty, and all who spoke to him prostrated themselves on the ground. He gave us a banquet, in which he offered us some sago cakes, and some very small fish cooked without a particle of salt. The prince died there, and I confess that I was astonished at the burial. The king and queen went to his funeral, the king with wooden shoes and the queen barefoot. When they returned, as the queen was going up to her house, a female servant washed her feet on the ladder. For twenty-four hours, some swivel-guns which stood at the palace door were fired every half hour. The king went into retreat, and would not grant audience for many days. He made an auction of all his possessions, in order to express his grief; but no one dared buy anything. We noted a very extraordinary thing there, namely, that the majority of those people did not care for silver. If we showed them an eight-real piece and a single real, they preferred the single real to the eight-real piece. As long as the single reals lasted we lived cheaply, but when we ran out of [65]them, they refused to give us as much for an eight-real piece as they had given us for a single real. We suffered great hunger. One day I went to the beach, and encountered a negro cook of the commander, who was cooking some fish. I asked him to give me one or two of them, but he replied: “Father, they have been counted.” “Then for the love of God, will you give me at least a little of that hot water?” “Yes,” he said, “I will give you that.” I went up along the beach, where I found a dirty half of a cocoanut-shell, deeply encrusted with sand; I washed it with my hands and got my hot water in it. I put into it a half-crust of dry sago (even though it remain a whole day in water, the water will not penetrate it), and I managed to eat some mouthfuls of it, although it was very hard on my teeth, and drank my hot water. With that, I was content to take a bit of exercise, and to finish with prayer what was lacking to me [for my meal].

4. Captain Navarro and the commander decided to spend the winter there. We were really upset about this. Two other passengers and I tried to buy a boat from the king to leave. After we made the agreement and paid the money, the king backed out of the deal and kept more than half of what we paid. He was quite the trickster, though he treated me with great respect and always had me sit near him. Some very funny things happened between us. His palace was a small hut made of bamboo and straw, but he carried himself with an incredible dignity, and everyone who spoke to him bowed down. He threw us a feast where he served sago cakes and tiny fish cooked without any salt. The prince died there, and I was surprised by the funeral. The king and queen attended, the king wearing wooden shoes and the queen barefoot. As the queen was going up to her house afterwards, a female servant washed her feet on the stairs. For twenty-four hours, some swivel guns at the palace door were fired every half hour. The king went into seclusion and refused to meet anyone for many days. He put all his belongings up for auction to show his sorrow, but no one dared to buy anything. We noticed something very strange there: most of the people didn’t care about silver. If we showed them an eight-real coin and a single real coin, they preferred the single real. As long as the single reals lasted, we lived cheaply, but when we ran out of them, they refused to give us as much for an eight-real coin as they had given us for a single real. We suffered from great hunger. One day, I went to the beach and came across a black cook of the commander who was cooking some fish. I asked him for one or two, but he replied, “Father, they have been counted.” “Then, for the love of God, will you at least give me a little of that hot water?” “Yes,” he said, “I’ll give you that.” I walked along the beach and found a dirty half of a coconut shell, covered in sand; I washed it by hand and got my hot water in it. I put in a half-crust of dry sago (even though it can sit in water all day, it won’t absorb it) and managed to eat a few bites, even though it was really tough on my teeth, and drank my hot water. With that, I was satisfied to get a bit of exercise and finish with a prayer for what I was missing from my meal.

5. When the tide went down, the seamen went to catch shellfish on the reefs which were exposed. They caught curious kinds of snails, toads, and snakes of a thousand forms and shapes. Everything tasted good, and we grew fat. I reached such a state that I stole sago, when I got a chance and could do it secretly. Many times I asked what dainties were more necessary than a little rice boiled in water. In Manila I observed very strictly the rules laid down by the physicians that I should not eat butter, or this or that; but during the voyage I ate such things, that I know not how I lived. Qui dat nivem sicut lanam32 applies here. We left Totole on the first of August. [66]Those cruel men put us all in great risk of losing our lives; four of us had already died, and others of us were sick. I noted one very curious thing, namely, that a poor negro, who had embarked only to beg alms in Macasar, began the voyage so weak that he could not stand upright. Yet all that hardship and misery (in which he had the greatest share) cured him completely; and he fattened so much that he did not appear to be the same man. At sunset of the day of our father St. Dominic, we crossed the line and entered south latitude. The line crosses two islands, called Dos Hermanas [i.e., Two Sisters]. The wind blew so cold off shore that we all wrapped ourselves in all the clothes that we had. In Europa, in more than 50 degrees north latitude, men were burning with the heat at that time, while we under the line were shivering with cold. Who can understand that philosophy?... Two days after, we reached the kingdom of Caile,33 which lies in one and one-half degrees south latitude. It has an admirable bay, more than three leguas long and two wide. As soon as we had anchored, a Manila Indian came to us, one Juan de la Cruz. He read very devoutly, and had his rosary about his neck. I ransomed him for twenty pesos and took him to Macasar, where he proved to be a great rogue. He told us that there were two Portuguese there, and we went immediately to see them. On the way, we visited a petty king who regaled us on cocoanuts. Captain Navarro asked for some water to drink. The queen said that there was none in the house, and the king in anger [67]ordered them to go for some immediately. On hearing that, the queen went out of her apartment instantly, and having taken a large bamboo went straight to the river (which was near) for water; then she returned and we had our drink. At that place one of the Portuguese overtook us; the other was very sick. We went to his house, where Moros, both men and women, came to see us; and among them, those infernal monsters of men clad in women’s clothes, who are married publicly to other men. Nothing has ever surprised me more than that. The Portuguese told us there that there were men who preferred to marry these [creatures] rather than women. They gave two reasons, one that they look after the welfare of their husbands carefully; the other that they were very diligent and rich, because they alone could be Orives.

5. When the tide went out, the sailors went to gather shellfish on the exposed reefs. They found all sorts of snails, toads, and snakes in various shapes and sizes. Everything tasted delicious, and we started to gain weight. I got to the point where I secretly stole sago whenever I could. Many times, I wondered what treats were more important than some rice boiled in water. In Manila, I strictly followed the doctors' orders not to eat butter or various other things; but during the voyage, I ate things that made me wonder how I even survived. Qui dat nivem sicut lanam32 applies here. We left Totole on the first of August. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Those harsh men put all of us in serious danger of losing our lives; four of us had already died, and several others were sick. I noticed something very interesting: a poor black man, who had boarded just to beg for charity in Macasar, started the journey so weak he couldn't stand up. Yet all that hardship and suffering (which he endured the most) completely healed him; he gained so much weight that he hardly looked like the same person. At sunset on the feast day of our father St. Dominic, we crossed the equator and entered the southern hemisphere. The equator crosses two islands called Dos Hermanas [i.e., Two Sisters]. The wind was so cold off the shore that we all bundled up in every piece of clothing we had. Meanwhile, in Europe, north of 50 degrees latitude, people were sweltering in the heat, while we under the equator were shivering with cold. Who can make sense of that?... Two days later, we reached the kingdom of Caile,33, which is located one and a half degrees south of the equator. It has a beautiful bay, more than three leguas long and two wide. As soon as we anchored, a Manila Indian named Juan de la Cruz approached us. He prayed devoutly, with a rosary around his neck. I paid twenty pesos to free him and took him to Macasar, where he turned out to be quite a trickster. He told us there were two Portuguese men nearby, and we immediately went to find them. On the way, we stopped by a small king who treated us to coconuts. Captain Navarro asked for some water to drink. The queen said there was none in the house, and the king angrily [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]ordered them to fetch some right away. Upon hearing that, the queen rushed out of her room, grabbed a large bamboo pole, and headed straight to the river, which was nearby, for water, then returned, and we got our drink. At that place, one of the Portuguese caught up with us; the other was very ill. We went to his house, where Moros, both men and women, came to see us; among them were those strange men dressed in women's clothing, who were publicly married to other men. Nothing has ever surprised me more than that. The Portuguese told us there were men who preferred to marry these individuals rather than women. They gave two reasons: one was that they took good care of their husbands; the other was that they were very hardworking and wealthy because they alone could be Orives.

6. That is the kingdom where the men and women dress only in paper; and, since it is a material which does not last long, the women are continually working at it with great industry. The material consists of the bark of a small tree,34 which we saw there. They beat it out with a stone into curious patterns, and make it as they desire, coarse, fine, and most fine; and they dye it in all colors. Twenty paces away, these appear like fine camlets. Much of it is taken to Manila and Macao, where I saw excellent bed-curtains [made of it]; in cold weather they are as good as one can desire. In the rainy season, which is the great enemy of paper, the remedy applied by those people is to undress and put one’s clothes under one’s arm.

6. That's the kingdom where men and women wear clothes made only of paper; and since it’s a material that doesn’t last long, the women are always busy working on it diligently. The material comes from the bark of a small tree, 34 , which we saw there. They beat it out with a stone into unique patterns and create it in various types—coarse, fine, and very fine; and they dye it in all sorts of colors. From a distance of twenty paces, it looks like fine camlets. Much of it is sent to Manila and Macao, where I saw great bed curtains made from it; in cold weather, they are just what one could want. During the rainy season, which is the biggest threat to paper, the people’s solution is to take off their clothes and carry them under their arm.

7. The men are always busy in making cocoanut [68]oil, of which they sell considerable, and pay much in tribute to the king of Macasar. While we were there, he sent for ninety thousand celemins of oil. The palm-groves in those fields are astonishing. The bananas which that land produces are the best in the world, and innumerable. The natives live on them and sow no rice nor any other kind of seed. We remained in those villages for one week, without eating anything else than bananas or drinking anything else than [the juice of] cocoanuts. They raise buffaloes, goats, and horses, which they sell. When they hold their general assemblies, they eat one or two buffaloes, half raw and half roasted. The villages are excellently arranged, and the council-houses are admirable. The climate is fine, and the people would pay homage to the Spaniards very willingly, as we were told there, merely to be freed from the tyrannical dominion of the king of Macasar.

7. The men are always busy making coconut oil, which they sell a lot of and pay a hefty tribute to the king of Macasar. While we were there, he ordered ninety thousand celemins of oil. The palm groves in those fields are amazing. The bananas produced in that land are the best in the world, and there are countless of them. The locals live off them and don’t plant rice or any other seeds. We stayed in those villages for a week, eating nothing but bananas and drinking only coconut juice. They raise buffaloes, goats, and horses, which they sell. During their general assemblies, they eat one or two buffaloes, cooked half raw and half roasted. The villages are well-organized, and the council houses are impressive. The climate is pleasant, and the people would gladly pay tribute to the Spaniards, as we were told, just to be freed from the tyrannical rule of the king of Macasar.

8. I afterward ransomed another Manila Indian. He was sick, and I confessed him; but when we arrived at Macasar he died. I gave six pesos for him, and would doubtless have given my habit. We left the bay, but on St. Bartholomew’s eve we were obliged to put back into port because of heavy seas. On the Nativity of our Lady we left once more, and by slow sailing we reached the kingdom of Mamuyo.35 We made port with great difficulty, and there all the sailors fell sick. Together with the sick Portuguese, and two servants whom we had, I bought a small boat. While it was being mended, I rested and [69]looked after the sick. I saw the king’s palace; it was an excellent structure, and made of fine woods. We took our departure, the two champans remaining anchored there. It cost us our triumph to escape from some dangers; but we passed the nights with great ease and rest. Of a truth, we committed some acts of rashness. When we reached the kingdom of Mandar36 we found another king, already an old man. He treated us well, and immediately sent the prince to see me; he was a fine young fellow. Moreover, we went to Macasar together, which is the capital of all the island. [There] we found the people more civilized. It was God’s will, and was due to His mercy, that I should reach Macasar nine months and three days after leaving Manila, although that voyage had never taken more than forty days. I thought that I had reached Paradise. I found two members of my order there, and I thought them two angels; and they certainly were that for me, for they regaled me as much as their poverty permitted. As for me, it is certain that nothing gladdened me so much as to see myself away from the sea, among my friends, and where I could say mass.

8. Later, I paid to free another Manila Indian. He was sick, and I heard his confession; but by the time we got to Macasar, he died. I spent six pesos on him and would have gladly given my habit in exchange. We left the bay, but on St. Bartholomew's Eve, we had to return to port because of rough seas. On the Nativity of our Lady, we set off again, and by sailing slowly, we finally arrived in the kingdom of Mamuyo. We reached the port with a lot of struggle, and all the sailors fell ill. Along with the sick Portuguese and two servants we had, I bought a small boat. While it was being repaired, I took a break and looked after the sick. I saw the king's palace; it was a magnificent building made from fine woods. We departed, leaving the two champans anchored there. It cost us our victory to escape some dangers, but we spent the nights with great comfort and rest. Indeed, we acted quite recklessly. When we arrived in the kingdom of Mandar, we found another king, an elderly man. He treated us well and quickly sent the prince to meet me; he was a handsome young man. We also went to Macasar together, which is the capital of the entire island. There, we found the people to be more sophisticated. It was God's will, and due to His mercy, that I reached Macasar nine months and three days after leaving Manila, even though that journey had never taken more than forty days. I felt like I had reached Paradise. I found two members of my order there, and I considered them angels; they truly were to me, as they treated me as best as their poverty allowed. For me, nothing brought me more joy than being away from the sea, surrounded by my friends, and having the opportunity to say mass.

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

CHAPTER VIII

Of my stay in the kingdom of Macasar

During my time in the kingdom of Macasar

[The large and fertile island of Macasar, which is located near Borneo, is ruled by one called the sumbanco (signifying “emperor”), who has many petty kings subject to him. Commerce is brisk, and [70]ships from Manila, Goa, and Macao, and Dutch and English ships, frequent the island. The Portuguese of Malacca and the Mahometans from Siam were the first to publish the name of God there. “Before that trade opened, they were all heathen; they thought it well to accept one of the two faiths, and to follow it. Not to err in so necessary a matter, they resolved to employ a ridiculous method, namely, to despatch at the same time a boat to Sian for Moros, and another to Malacca for religious, agreeing that they would receive the first ones who arrived.” The Moros arrived first through the fault of the Portuguese. When Malacca falls to the Dutch, many Portuguese and mestizos take refuge at Macasar, where they are well received and form a considerable settlement. It is a haven for traders, for there are no duties of any kind, but the captains need only make presents to the sumbanco. The prince receives Navarrete well, and visits him at the house of an influential Portuguese. The churches of the Dominicans and Jesuits have been destroyed at the request of the bishop of Malacca, whence have arisen various troubles. Soon after, Navarrete pays a visit to the prince in the palace, where he sees various books and maps that had belonged to the missions. An embassy at that time from Jacatra finally results in war with the Dutch, who conquer the natives in 1670, and carry off the sumbanco and prince. As a consequence all the Portuguese leave the island. At Macasar, Navarrete meets the chief of Mindoro who had been captured four years before. The missionary preaches in Macasar through Lent, but the native rulers do not become Christians. Two Portuguese arrested for a murder by the sumbanco are promised life if they [71]will renounce Christianity. One, refusing, is killed immediately; the other, acquiescing, is allowed to live, but soon escapes to Macao. Many of the Portuguese slaves have become Mahometans; and, in addition, Christians and Mahometans are living together in concubinage. In Borneo are more than four thousand captive Indians from Manila. “In all the islands of that archipelago there are Indians from Philipinas, either refugees or captives. Wherever I have been, from China to Surrate, I found people from Manila and its islands. People try, forsooth, to impute the decrease of the Indians to other and fanciful beginnings; but let them be well treated, and they will not flee. Let them be protected, and they will not be captured. No vessel leaves Manila, whether it is of Portuguese, or Siamese, or Cambodians, etc., that does not carry Indians from the islands.” In May, 1658, a Portuguese ship from Goa arrives at the island with information of the loss of Ceylon. Among its passengers are some Franciscans and Jesuits. Navarrete, tired of the sea, determines to go to Macan with the other religious, and devote his life to the Chinese missions.] [72]

[The large and fertile island of Macasar, located near Borneo, is ruled by someone called the sumbanco (meaning “emperor”), who has many local kings under his authority. Trade is thriving, and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] ships from Manila, Goa, and Macao, as well as Dutch and English ships, frequently visit the island. The Portuguese from Malacca and the Muslims from Siam were the first to introduce the name of God there. “Before trade opened up, the people were pagans; they thought it wise to adopt one of the two religions and stick to it. To avoid making a mistake in such an important matter, they decided on a rather silly approach: to send one boat to Siam for Muslims and another to Malacca for Christians, agreeing to follow whoever arrived first.” The Muslims got there first, thanks to the Portuguese's mishap. When Malacca is taken by the Dutch, many Portuguese and mestizos flee to Macasar, where they are welcomed and establish a significant community. It becomes a safe haven for traders, as there are no taxes—captains only need to present gifts to the sumbanco. The prince welcomes Navarrete and visits him at the home of a prominent Portuguese resident. The churches of the Dominicans and Jesuits have been destroyed at the request of the bishop of Malacca, leading to various problems. Shortly after, Navarrete visits the prince in the palace, where he sees various books and maps from the missions. An embassy from Jacatra at that time ultimately leads to war with the Dutch, who conquer the locals in 1670 and capture the sumbanco and prince. As a result, all the Portuguese leave the island. In Macasar, Navarrete meets the chief of Mindoro who had been captured four years earlier. The missionary preaches in Macasar during Lent, but the local leaders do not convert to Christianity. Two Portuguese arrested for a murder by the sumbanco are promised their lives if they [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] renounce Christianity. One refuses and is killed immediately; the other agrees, is spared, but soon escapes to Macao. Many Portuguese slaves have converted to Islam, and Christians and Muslims are living together in concubinage. In Borneo, there are over four thousand captive Indians from Manila. “In all the islands of that archipelago, there are Indians from the Philippines, either refugees or captives. Wherever I have been, from China to Surrate, I’ve found people from Manila and its islands. People try, of course, to attribute the decline of the Indians to other fanciful causes; but if treated well, they won’t run away. If protected, they won’t be captured. No ship leaves Manila, whether it’s from the Portuguese, Siamese, or Cambodians, etc., that doesn’t take Indians from the islands.” In May 1658, a Portuguese ship from Goa arrives at the island with news of the loss of Ceylon. Among its passengers are some Franciscans and Jesuits. Fed up with the sea, Navarrete decides to go to Macan with the other missionaries and dedicate his life to the Chinese missions.] [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

1 Diaz’s account ante, gives this name as Juan de Velas. The Franciscan was Antonio de San Gregorio. ↑

1 Diaz’s account ante lists this name as Juan de Velas. The Franciscan was Antonio de San Gregorio. ↑

2 In no. 11 of his first tratado, p. 39, Navarrete says of this fruit: “The lechia, called li chi by the Chinese, is considered in that region as the queen of fruits. One is not deceived in this, for I am sure that if the ate [i.e., Anona] did not exceed it, I could not find any fruit that would be better. Although it is a fact that good things are few and scarce, lechias are so plentiful, that the yield in the maritime provinces alone is immense; but they do not lose any of the esteem in which they are held for that reason. They are small, being slightly larger than a large nut, and the shell is green and thin. The inside is as white as snow, and it has a kernel in the middle as black as jet. Its savor, taste, refreshing powers, and odor make one praise the Creator. When they eat them, they generally put them in fresh water, for they say that they are somewhat hot. They eat as many as they can, drink a little water, and then the appetite is keen to go at it again. The tree is very tall and beautiful. I discovered them for Governor Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara in the mountains of Bantan, the year when I arrived at those islands. But, as they were wild, they were not so large as those in China. Mendoça calls them ciruelas [i.e., plums], but they deserve a better name.” This tree is also known as the alipai (Euphoria litchi), which is the name given it by the natives. The name “lechia” may be a corruption of the Chinese; on the other hand the Chinese name as given by Navarrete may be the corruption of “lechia.” Blanco (p. 199), describes the tree and fruit. See also Official Handbook of Philippines, p. 297. ↑

2 In no. 11 of his first tratado, p. 39, Navarrete talks about this fruit: “The lechia, called li chi by the Chinese, is regarded in that region as the queen of fruits. This is no exaggeration, for I believe that if the ate [i.e., Anona] didn’t surpass it, I wouldn’t find a fruit better than this. Although good things are rare and few, lechias are so abundant that the harvest in the coastal provinces alone is enormous; however, their reputation remains undiminished because of that. They are small, slightly larger than a big nut, with a green, thin shell. The inside is as white as snow, with a kernel in the center as black as jet. Their flavor, taste, refreshing qualities, and aroma inspire one to praise the Creator. When people eat them, they usually soak them in fresh water, as they say they are a bit warming. They consume as many as they can, drink some water, and then they feel hungry to eat more. The tree is very tall and beautiful. I discovered them for Governor Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara in the mountains of Bantan, the year I arrived at those islands. However, since they were wild, they were not as big as the ones in China. Mendoça refers to them as ciruelas [i.e., plums], but they deserve a better name.” This tree is also known as the alipai (Euphoria litchi), which is the name given by the locals. The name “lechia” might be a variation of the Chinese name; alternatively, the Chinese name as given by Navarrete may have originated from “lechia.” Blanco (p. 199) describes the tree and fruit. See also Official Handbook of Philippines, p. 297. ↑

3 Apparently referring to the direction of the wind, as determined on the circumference of the compass or other instrument. ↑

3 It seems to be talking about the way the wind is blowing, as shown on the edge of the compass or another tool. ↑

4 The calantas, or Philippine cedar (Cedrela, of the order Meliaceæ); it is a valuable lumber tree. ↑

4 The calantas, or Philippine cedar (Cedrela, from the Meliaceæ family); it's a valuable lumber tree. ↑

5 See list of Philippine fiber plants in Official Handbook of the Philippines (Manila, 1903), part i, pp. 328–339; also list of fruits and vegetables, pp. 296–328. Both the scientific and the native vernacular names are given, with valuable notes on many plants and trees. ↑

5 Check out the list of Philippine fiber plants in the Official Handbook of the Philippines (Manila, 1903), part i, pages 328–339; you can also find the list of fruits and vegetables on pages 296–328. Both the scientific names and local names are provided, along with useful notes on many plants and trees. ↑

6 Literally, “woman fish”—the dugong (VOL. XXIX, p. 302). See Delgado’s detailed description of this creature, made from personal examination of it, in Hist. de Filipinas, pp. 910–912; he also mentions the virtue in its bones. ↑

6 Literally, "woman fish"—the dugong (VOL. 29, p. 302). Check out Delgado’s thorough description of this creature, based on his personal examination, in Hist. de Filipinas, pp. 910–912; he also talks about the benefits of its bones. ↑

7 The maguey or American agave (Agave vivipara) was introduced into the Philippines from America, and is cultivated there to a slight extent. It yields a fiber from which a cloth called nipis is woven. The fiber itself has been exported in bulk to Europe, China, and Japan for many years. See Census of Philippine Islands, iv, p. 120. ↑

7 The maguey or American agave (Agave vivipara) was brought to the Philippines from America and is grown there on a small scale. It produces a fiber used to make a cloth called nipis. This fiber has been exported in large quantities to Europe, China, and Japan for many years. See Census of Philippine Islands, iv, p. 120. ↑

8 A reference to Matthew xxiv, 40: “Then two shall be in the field: one shall be taken, and one shall be left.” ↑

8 A reference to Matthew xxiv, 40: “Then two will be in the field: one will be taken, and one will be left.” ↑

9 The ecclesiastical ceremony of washing the feet of twelve persons on Maundy Thursday. ↑

9 The church ceremony of washing the feet of twelve people on Maundy Thursday. ↑

10 i.e., “the things that are their own, and not the things that are Jesus Christ’s.” ↑

10 i.e., “the things that belong to them, and not the things that belong to Jesus Christ.” ↑

11 The garfish or sea-needle (Belone vulgaris). ↑

11 The garfish, also known as the sea-needle (Belone vulgaris). ↑

12 The village and lake of Nauján. The former is located on the Nauján River, about two miles from its mouth in northeastern Mindoro. The lake of Nauján, which is drained by the Adlobang and Nauján rivers, is about 2½ miles inland from the coast, and is about 6×10 miles in size. The water is almost stagnant, and the lake contains many sharks which enter at high tide, while crocodiles are frequent; numerous kaseles, or snake-birds, and other water birds are also to be found there. See U. S. Philippine Gazetteer. ↑

12 The village and lake of Nauján. The village is situated along the Nauján River, roughly two miles from where it meets the ocean in northeastern Mindoro. The lake of Nauján, fed by the Adlobang and Nauján rivers, lies about 2½ miles inland from the coast, covering an area of about 6×10 miles. The water is nearly stagnant, and the lake is home to many sharks that swim in during high tide, while crocodiles are common; a variety of kaseles, or snake-birds, and other waterfowl can also be found there. See U. S. Philippine Gazetteer. ↑

13 Misprint for the lake of Bombon. ↑

13 Misprint for Lake Bombon. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__

14 Oton and Iloilo are here confused with the island of Panay, and Caraga with that of Mindanao. ↑

14 Oton and Iloilo are mistakenly identified as part of the island of Panay, and Caraga is confused with Mindanao. ↑

15 Navarrete says (Tratados, p. 2): “The Chinese traders who crossed over to Manila, when asked who they were and what they desired, answered, Xang Lai; that is, ‘We come to trade and barter.’ The Spaniards, who did not understand the Chinese language, imagined that that was the name of a nation; and united those two words into one, by which until this day they designate the Chinese, calling them Sangleys. In this way we Europeans have corrupted many other words for that part of the world. The Philipinas Islands are called Liù Sung; the Spaniard corrupted the words, and calls them Luzon. The city of Manila is called Mainila, which means ‘marsh’ or ‘mire;’ our people cut out an ‘i,’ and the name became Manila. The island which the natives call Minolo is named Mindoro by the Spaniards, and that of Malindic we call Marinduque.” ↑

15 Navarrete says (Tratados, p. 2): “The Chinese traders who came to Manila, when asked who they were and what they wanted, replied, Xang Lai; which means, ‘We come to trade and barter.’ The Spaniards, who didn’t understand the Chinese language, thought that was the name of a nation, and combined those two words into one, by which they still refer to the Chinese today, calling them Sangleys. In this way, we Europeans have distorted many other words for that part of the world. The Philippines are called Liù Sung; the Spaniard altered the words and refers to them as Luzon. The city of Manila is called Mainila, which means ‘marsh’ or ‘mire;’ our people dropped an ‘i,’ and the name became Manila. The island that the natives call Minolo is named Mindoro by the Spaniards, and that of Malindic we call Marinduque.” ↑

16 The guayaba or guava (Psidium guayava), well-known and valued in America for its acid fruit, and early introduced thence into the Philippines, where it is known as bayabas. ↑

16 The guava or guayaba (Psidium guayava) is well-known and appreciated in America for its tart fruit, and it was brought to the Philippines early on, where it is called bayabas. ↑

17 The macupa (Eugenio malaccensis—Linn.) is about the size of a sweet pepper and of somewhat the same shape, rather larger and quite red in color, but more lustrous; bitter-sweet in taste, somewhat agreeable, but has no solid flesh which can be eaten. The proper season for the fruit is April, May, and June. The leaves of the tree have medicinal properties. The balimbing (Averrhora carambola—Linn.) has the odor of a quince, and is used by the natives as food with dry fish or meat. There are several varieties, and the flesh is watery. It makes an excellent preserve, and is a good sea food. See Delgado’s Historia, pp. 505, 506, 512; and Census of Philippines, iv, pp. 124–126; also, for the paho, santol, and papaw (papaya), our VOL. XIII, p. 141, note 20, VOL. XVI, p. 87, note 72, and VOL. XXI, p. 144, note 36. ↑

17 The macupa (Eugenio malaccensis—Linn.) is about the size of a bell pepper and has a similar shape, but is larger and a bright red color with a shiny appearance. It's bittersweet in taste, somewhat pleasing, but lacks solid flesh that can be eaten. The fruit is in season in April, May, and June. The leaves of the tree are known for their medicinal properties. The balimbing (Averrhora carambola—Linn.) smells like a quince and is eaten by locals alongside dried fish or meat. There are several varieties, and the flesh is quite watery. It makes for an excellent preserve and is a good addition to seafood. See Delgado’s Historia, pp. 505, 506, 512; and Census of Philippines, iv, pp. 124–126; also, for the paho, santol, and papaw (papaya), our VOL. 13, p. 141, note 20, VOL. 16, p. 87, note 72, and VOL. 21, p. 144, note 36. ↑

18 See VOL. XVI, p. 87, note 72. See also Census of Philippines, p. 125. ↑

18 See VOL. 16, p. 87, note 72. See also Census of Philippines, p. 125. ↑

19 Athanasius Kircher was born near Fulda, Germany, in 1602, and became a Jesuit novice at the age of sixteen. He was for several years a teacher in the Jesuit college at Wurtzburg, but was driven to France (1632) by the war then waging in Germany. Having spent some time at Avignon, he was sent to Rome, where he died on November 27, 1680. He was one of the most illustrious writers in the Jesuit order; see list of his works in Sommervogel’s Bibliothèque, iv, cols. 1046–1077. They embrace a wide range of subjects—science, mathematics, Egyptian hieroglyphics, archæology, etc. The allusion in the text is probably to Kircher’s China monumentis (Rome, 1667). ↑

19 Athanasius Kircher was born near Fulda, Germany, in 1602, and became a Jesuit novice at the age of sixteen. He taught for several years at the Jesuit college in Wurtzburg but fled to France in 1632 due to the war raging in Germany. After spending some time in Avignon, he was sent to Rome, where he died on November 27, 1680. He was one of the most notable writers in the Jesuit order; see the list of his works in Sommervogel’s Bibliothèque, iv, cols. 1046–1077. His works cover a wide range of subjects—science, mathematics, Egyptian hieroglyphics, archaeology, etc. The reference in the text is likely to Kircher’s China monumentis (Rome, 1667). ↑

20 The small sapota or chico zapote (Achras sapota—Linn.) was, according to Delgado, peculiar to Nueva España. The tree is tall, wide-spreading, and tufted. Delgado also describes another variety called zapote prieto (Diospyros ebenaster—Retz), of which there are two varieties, one white and one black, which he declares to be natives of Nueva España. The Census of Philippines says, however, that they are natives of China. The fruit resembles a medium-sized apple, and has a green exterior. A pleasant preserve is made of it. See Delgado’s Historia, pp. 517, 518, and Census of Philippines, iv, p. 126. ↑

20 The small sapote or chico zapote (Achras sapota—Linn.) was, according to Delgado, unique to New Spain. The tree is tall, broad, and bushy. Delgado also mentions another variety called zapote prieto (Diospyros ebenaster—Retz), which has two types, one white and one black, both claimed to be native to New Spain. However, the Census of Philippines states that they are native to China. The fruit looks like a medium-sized apple and has a green outer skin. A tasty preserve is made from it. See Delgado’s Historia, pp. 517, 518, and Census of Philippines, iv, p. 126. ↑

21 Ates (Anona squamosa—Linn.) is a fruit somewhat resembling in appearance a small pineapple. Its exterior is green and the interior white, and it contains many beautiful bright seeds. It is aromatic and delicate in flavor, and mild and pleasant to the taste. It is heating in its effects. Oranges of various indigenous species are found, among them being several wild species—one of the latter, the amumuntay (citrus histrix), being twelve or thirteen inches in circumference and very juicy and bitter. There are seven varieties of lemons, some of superior quality. See Delgado’s Historia, pp. 519, 520, 548–560; Census of Philippines, iv, pp. 124–126; our VOL. V, p. 169, and VOL. XVI, p. 87, note 72. ↑

21 Ates (Anona squamosa—Linn.) is a fruit that looks a bit like a small pineapple. Its outer skin is green, while the inside is white and filled with many shiny seeds. It has a fragrant, delicate flavor and is mild and enjoyable to taste. It has warming effects. There are different types of oranges native to the area, including several wild species—one of which, the amumuntay (citrus histrix), measures twelve or thirteen inches around and is very juicy and bitter. There are seven kinds of lemons, some of which are of excellent quality. See Delgado’s Historia, pp. 519, 520, 548–560; Census of Philippines, iv, pp. 124–126; our VOL. 5, p. 169, and VOL. 16, p. 87, note 72. ↑

22 The iguana is very abundant in some localities, and sometimes attains a size of five feet, and can swallow fair-sized fowls whole. They are often found on trees or in bushes along the river banks. When disturbed they drop into the water and thus escape. The eggs are considered a great delicacy by the natives, and the flesh of one species, the ibid, ibit, or pelubid, is highly esteemed. See Handbook of the Philippines (Manila, 1903), p. 150. ↑

22 The iguana is quite common in some areas and can grow up to five feet long, capable of swallowing decent-sized birds whole. They are often seen in trees or bushes along riverbanks. When threatened, they leap into the water to escape. The natives consider the eggs a delicacy, and the meat of one type, known as ibid, ibit, or pelubid, is highly valued. See Handbook of the Philippines (Manila, 1903), p. 150. ↑

23 Tunasan is in the province of Laguna, which is thus mentioned in the U. S. Philippine Gazetteer (p. 574): “This province is considered the garden of the Philippines. Its soil and climate are adapted to the successful growth of every variety of tropical plant and tree known to the archipelago.” Both mechanical and agricultural industries are considerably developed in Laguna. ↑

23 Tunasan is in Laguna province, which is noted in the U. S. Philippine Gazetteer (p. 574): “This province is known as the garden of the Philippines. Its soil and climate are suitable for the thriving growth of all types of tropical plants and trees found in the archipelago.” Both mechanical and agricultural industries are well-developed in Laguna. ↑

24 In the irrigated lands of Pangasinán the rice yield is eighty-fold; in dry lands fifty-fold; in highlands of the third class, at least forty- to sixty-fold. The most fertile farm of the Philippines (Imus) has 13,442 hectares devoted to rice cultivation. Its lands of the first class yield one hundred-fold; of the second, seventy-five-fold; and of the third fifty-fold. Other lands in the islands yield from fifteen-fold up. See Census of Philippines, iv, p. 93. ↑

24 In the irrigated areas of Pangasinán, the rice yield is eighty times; in dry areas, it's fifty times; and in highlands of the third class, it's at least forty to sixty times. The most productive farm in the Philippines (Imus) has 13,442 hectares dedicated to rice farming. The first-class lands produce one hundred times; second-class yields seventy-five times; and third-class yields fifty times. Other lands across the islands yield from fifteen times and up. See Census of Philippines, iv, p. 93. ↑

25 In the Dominican mission of 1632 came a lay-brother named Fray Diego de Santa María, a son of the convent at Sevilla. Through charity, he sheltered and educated orphan boys, as Fray Geronimo Guerrero (VOL. XXII, p. 109) had done earlier. In 1640 these two enterprises were consolidated, under the auspices of the Dominican order in Manila, and organized into the college of San Juan Letran. Fray Diego remained in charge of it for many years; but finally, having obtained permission to return to Spain, he died on the way, at Acapulco, in 1657. (Reseña biográfica, i, pp. 418, 419.) ↑

25 In the Dominican mission of 1632, a lay-brother named Fray Diego de Santa María, who was from the convent in Sevilla, joined. He took it upon himself to care for and educate orphan boys, following in the footsteps of Fray Geronimo Guerrero (VOL. 22, p. 109) who had done the same before. In 1640, these two efforts were combined under the Dominican order in Manila and formed into the College of San Juan Letran. Fray Diego led it for many years, but eventually, after getting permission to return to Spain, he passed away on the journey in Acapulco in 1657. (Reseña biográfica, i, pp. 418, 419.) ↑

26 “The boys themselves received ten pesos each for assisting at burials, which were very frequent” (Reseña biográfica, i, p. 420). ↑

26 “The boys were paid ten pesos each for helping out at funerals, which happened quite often” (Reseña biográfica, i, p. 420). ↑

27 Used here because the secular clergy wear a bonnet, in contradistinction to a friar, who wears a hood or cowl. See Appleton’s New Velázquez Dictionary. ↑

27 Used here because the regular clergy wear a hat, unlike a friar, who wears a hood. See Appleton’s New Velázquez Dictionary. ↑

28 Theses controverted and defended in the schools. See ut supra. ↑

28 These arguments were debated and defended in the schools. See as above. ↑

29 Spanish, andauan a la rebatiña—a locution which can hardly find an exact equivalent in English. ↑

29 Spanish, andauan a la rebatiña—a phrase that is difficult to translate directly into English. ↑

30 On the northern coast of the island Celebes were two villages named Bool and Tontoli, about twenty (Dutch) miles apart; see Valentyn’s Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indien, deel iii, st. ii, p. 134, and map in deel i, facing p. 1. ↑

30 On the northern coast of the Celebes island, there were two villages called Bool and Tontoli, located about twenty Dutch miles from each other; refer to Valentyn’s Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indien, part iii, section ii, page 134, and the map in part i, facing page 1. ↑

31 The most important starch-producing palm of the Philippines is the buri (Corypha umbraculifera) which gave name to the island of Burias and from which sago is obtained. “It blooms but once, and then perishes” (Blanco). The sago is procured by felling the tree near the root, and taking out the soft interior portion of the trunk, which is placed in casks or troughs and the bitter sap drained off. It is then pounded with paddles or mallets, which separate the starch into fine grains. The starch is then gathered and dried, and converted into flour. A wine is also obtained from the tree. See Census of Philippines, iv, p. 123; also Blanco’s Flora, p. 160; Delgado’s Historia, pp. 660–662; and VOL. XXXIV, p. 154, note 499. ↑

31 The most important palm for producing starch in the Philippines is the buri (Corypha umbraculifera), which inspired the name of Burias island and is where sago comes from. “It blooms just once and then dies” (Blanco). To obtain sago, the tree is cut down near the base, and the soft interior of the trunk is removed. This is placed in barrels or troughs to drain off the bitter sap. Then, it is pounded with paddles or mallets, which breaks the starch into fine grains. The starch is collected, dried, and turned into flour. A wine is also made from the tree. See Census of Philippines, iv, p. 123; also Blanco’s Flora, p. 160; Delgado’s Historia, pp. 660–662; and VOL. 34, p. 154, note 499. ↑

32 A reference to Psalm cxlvii, v. 16: “[Praise the Lord,] Who giveth snow like wool.” ↑

32 A reference to Psalm cxlvii, v. 16: “[Praise the Lord,] Who gives snow like wool.” ↑

33 Valentyn mentions the village of Cajeli (Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indien, deel iii, p. 134 of section on Macasar). Crawfurd describes Kaili as a country on the western side of Celebes. ↑

33 Valentyn talks about the village of Cajeli (Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indien, part iii, p. 134 of the section on Macasar). Crawfurd describes Kaili as a region on the western side of Celebes. ↑

34 Probably the paper mulberry (Brousson etia papyrifera), from which the South Sea islanders make their clothing, using the inner bark. See Crawfurd’s Dict. Ind. Islands, pp. 327, 328. ↑

34 Most likely the paper mulberry (Broussonetia papyrifera), which the South Sea islanders use to make their clothing from the inner bark. See Crawfurd’s Dict. Ind. Islands, pp. 327, 328. ↑

35 On the map in Valentyn’s work, referred to in note 30, ante, appears the village of Mamoia, north of Macasar. ↑

35 On the map in Valentyn’s work, mentioned in note 30, before, you can see the village of Mamoia, located north of Macasar. ↑

36 Mandhar is a district of Celebes, lying between Kaili and Macasar; its people have a language peculiar to themselves, and are among the more civilized peoples of that island. (Crawfurd’s Dictionary, pp. 88, 264.) ↑

36 Mandhar is a district in Celebes, located between Kaili and Macasar. Its inhabitants speak a unique language and are considered one of the more civilized groups on the island. (Crawfurd’s Dictionary, pp. 88, 264.) ↑

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CONDITION OF THE CLERGY OF THE PHILIPPINES

The procurator-general of the Dominicans in Madrid, Fray Pedro Diaz del Cosio, made a representation to the queen-regent in August, 1674, in regard to the condition of the clergy of the islands, because of the almost perpetual vacancies [in the sees] of the archbishop and bishops, and the excessive subjection in which the governors held them, and the harsh treatment accorded them.1

The attorney general of the Dominicans in Madrid, Fray Pedro Diaz del Cosio, brought up an issue with the queen-regent in August 1674 about the state of the clergy in the islands. This was due to the constant vacancies in the archbishopric and bishoprics, the excessive control the governors had over them, and the harsh treatment they received.1

He represented that the bishopric of Nueva Caceres had been vacant for about thirty-one years; and that he who had last been presented (on September 30, 1672) had not obtained the bulls from his Holiness.

He stated that the bishopric of Nueva Caceres had been empty for about thirty-one years, and that the last person appointed (on September 30, 1672) had not received the official documents from his Holiness.

That the bishopric of Cebu had not had any bishop who was regularly appointed and who took possession, for about nineteen years, when Don Fray Juan Lopez assumed that post in 1666; that the latter had been promoted to the bishopric of Manila; that Don Diego de Aguilar was presented in 1672, a Dominican of the age of sixty years, but had not yet, at that date (1674), obtained the bulls (although he had accepted the dignity)—without doubt, because he was old and lived in Mejico. [73]

That the bishopric of Cebu hadn't had a regularly appointed bishop who actually took office for about nineteen years, until Don Fray Juan Lopez took over in 1666; that he had been promoted to the bishopric of Manila; that Don Diego de Aguilar, a Dominican who was sixty years old, was nominated in 1672 but still hadn't received the official bulls by that date (1674), even though he had accepted the position—likely because of his age and that he lived in Mexico. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

That the bishopric of Nueva Segovia had been vacant for about fifteen years, since the death of the last bishop, Don Fray Rodrigo de Cardenas,2 a Dominican; for he who had then (1674) been presented, namely, Don Jose Poblete, dean of the cabildo of Manila, had not yet obtained the bulls nor his authorization, for lack of money.

That the bishopric of Nueva Segovia had been empty for about fifteen years, since the death of the last bishop, Don Fray Rodrigo de Cardenas, a Dominican; because the person who was appointed at that time (1674), Don Jose Poblete, dean of the cabildo of Manila, had not yet received the bulls or his authorization due to a lack of funds.

That the archbishopric of Manila, the one which had been vacant the least time (since the death of Don Miguel de Poblete in 1668), had been given to Don Fray Juan Lopez, bishop of Cebu, whose bulls could not arrive until 1674—six years of vacancy.

That the archbishopric of Manila, the one that had been vacant the shortest time (since the death of Don Miguel de Poblete in 1668), had been assigned to Don Fray Juan Lopez, bishop of Cebu, whose bulls couldn't arrive until 1674—six years of vacancy.

That the governors were interested in having vacancies; for they filled the posts provisionally, and for that reason they were slow in giving information of a vacancy.

That the governors wanted to have open positions; because they filled the roles temporarily, they were slow to provide information about a vacancy.

That the incomes of the bishops were scant, and were collected at the will of the governors, who paid them poorly, and curtailed them. Therefore arrangements should be made to let the bishops themselves collect their dues from the tributes, as these were paid in. [74]

That the bishops' incomes were low and depended on the governors, who paid them poorly and reduced their payments. Therefore, steps should be taken to allow the bishops to collect their dues directly from the tributes as they were paid. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

That the cost of the bulls ought to be paid from the royal treasury.

That the cost of the bulls should be covered by the royal treasury.

That appointments ought to be given to persons not over forty years of age.

That appointments should be given to people not older than forty years.

That they should be given to Dominican friars, who would obtain the bulls without any delay.

That they should be given to Dominican friars, who would get the bulls without any delay.

That the third part of the income of the vacancies should be given to the persons appointed, in order to pay for the bulls.

That a third of the income from the vacancies should be given to the individuals appointed, to cover the costs of the bulls.

That the power of exiling bishops should be taken from the governors and Audiencia.

That the authority to exile bishops should be removed from the governors and the Audiencia.

That three auxiliary bishops should be appointed, who should succeed, according to their seniority, [in case of vacancies] in the archbishopric and bishoprics, and should begin to govern immediately.

That three assistant bishops should be appointed, who will take over, based on their seniority, [in case of vacancies] in the archbishopric and bishoprics, and should start governing right away.

The father procurator, Fray Pedro del Cosio, set forth those claims, but no one took any notice of them. The memorial was presented to the Council, October 26, 1674. Having been investigated by the fiscal—whom, as well as the other persons who intervened in it, Father Cosio visited—it was examined in the Council, March 11, 1675, and gave rise to the following resolutions:

The father procurator, Fray Pedro del Cosio, put forward those claims, but nobody paid attention to them. The memorial was submitted to the Council on October 26, 1674. After being reviewed by the fiscal—whom, along with the other individuals involved, Father Cosio met—it was discussed in the Council on March 11, 1675, leading to the following resolutions:

That the governors of Filipinas should report promptly to the Council the vacancies of the bishoprics, under penalty of a fine of two thousand pesos.

That the governors of the Philippines should promptly report to the Council any vacancies in the bishoprics, or face a fine of two thousand pesos.

That the archbishop of Manila should appoint governors ad interim in the vacancies of the three bishoprics of Filipinas; and his Holiness should be petitioned for despatches, so that in such case the ecclesiastical spiritual authority should be exercised by the consecrated bishops left.

That the archbishop of Manila should appoint interim governors for the vacant positions in the three bishoprics of the Philippines; and his Holiness should be asked for dispatches, so that in this case the ecclesiastical spiritual authority can be exercised by the consecrated bishops who remain.

That the royal officials of Mejico should remit on separate account what was owing to the archbishop [75]and cabildo of Manila, without the governor and royal officials of Filipinas having any part in it.

That the royal officials of Mexico should separately pay what they owe to the archbishop [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] and the cabildo of Manila, without the governor and royal officials of the Philippines being involved in it.

That the Audiencia alone could proceed, in accordance with law, against the ecclesiastics, and not the governor by himself alone.

That only the Audiencia could take legal action against the clergy, and not the governor on his own.

That the archbishop should report the amount of the tithes of the islands, in each of the three bishoprics, in order to erect cathedrals and establish cabildos.

That the archbishop should report the amount of the tithes from the islands in each of the three bishoprics to build cathedrals and set up cabildos.

That the royal officials of Manila should report the amount of the third part of the [incomes of the] last vacancies of the bishoprics.

That the royal officials in Manila should report the amount of the third portion of the [incomes from] the last vacancies of the bishoprics.

It appears further: That the Council was about to resolve that one-third of the incomes of the vacancies of the bishoprics of Filipinas should belong to the treasury, and another third part should be conceded to the bishops-elect to pay for the bulls. That it was resolved to augment the income of the archbishop to five thousand pesos, and that of the bishops to four thousand pesos. That it was about to petition Roma to lower by one-third the cost of the bulls to the bishops of Filipinas. That the archbishop should punish public scandals of incontinence, both of lewd women and of men living in concubinage. That in the disputes of Don Gerónimo Herrera with the archbishop3 some matters were determined in favor of the latter. [76]

It seems that the Council was about to decide that one-third of the incomes from the vacant bishoprics in the Philippines would go to the treasury, while another third would be given to the bishops-elect to cover the cost of the bulls. They also planned to increase the archbishop's income to five thousand pesos and the bishops' income to four thousand pesos. Additionally, they intended to ask Rome to reduce the cost of the bulls for the bishops in the Philippines by one-third. The archbishop was to address public scandals involving both immoral women and men in relationships outside of marriage. In the disputes between Don Gerónimo Herrera and the archbishop, some issues were resolved in favor of the archbishop. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

1 This document in the Ventura del Arco MSS. is evidently a mere synopsis of the original. ↑

1 This document in the Ventura del Arco MSS. is clearly just a summary of the original. ↑

2 “In the year 61 the three bishops had died—Don Fray Rodrigo de Cardenas, of Nueva Segovia; Don Fray Antonio de San Gregorio, of Nueva Cazeres; and Doctor Don Juan Velez (a cleric, formerly dean of the holy church of Manila), of Zebú; and the royal decrees for the new incumbents did not reach Manila until the year 65. Therein were proposed the following names: For the diocese of Nueva Segovia, Fray Francisco de Navarro, a discalced Franciscan, who set a most unusual example by refusing so honorable a dignity. For that of Nueva Cazeres, Fray Francisco de la Madre de Dios (or de la Alameda) also a discalced Franciscan; but the royal decree found him dead two years before. For that of Zebú, the most illustrious Don Fray Juan Lopez, who came in this ship ‘San Joseph,’ and had been already consecrated in Mechoacan.” (Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 140, 141.) ↑

2 “In 61, three bishops had passed away—Don Fray Rodrigo de Cardenas from Nueva Segovia; Don Fray Antonio de San Gregorio from Nueva Cazeres; and Doctor Don Juan Velez (a cleric who was previously the dean of the holy church of Manila) from Zebú; and the royal decrees for the new bishops didn’t arrive in Manila until 65. The proposed names were as follows: For the diocese of Nueva Segovia, Fray Francisco de Navarro, a discalced Franciscan, who set a unique example by turning down such an honorable position. For Nueva Cazeres, Fray Francisco de la Madre de Dios (or de la Alameda), also a discalced Franciscan; however, the royal decree found him deceased two years earlier. For Zebú, the distinguished Don Fray Juan Lopez, who arrived on the ship ‘San Joseph’ and had already been consecrated in Mechoacan.” (Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 140, 141.) ↑

3 In 1673 arose a controversy between the archbishop, Fray Juan López, and Don Jerónimo de Herrera, the chief chaplain of the royal chapel, who undertook to exercise among the soldiers the functions of parish priest. He was excommunicated by the archbishop, but instituted proceedings against that prelate in a military court. This suit was quashed by the Audiencia, but the governor withheld the archbishop’s stipends. These conflicts led to certain of the measures adopted by the Council, recorded in our text. ↑

3 In 1673, a dispute arose between Archbishop Fray Juan López and Don Jerónimo de Herrera, the chief chaplain of the royal chapel, who took on the role of parish priest for the soldiers. The archbishop excommunicated him, but he filed a lawsuit against the archbishop in a military court. This case was dismissed by the Audiencia, but the governor held back the archbishop’s salary. These conflicts resulted in certain measures taken by the Council, noted in our text. ↑

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PREROGATIVES OF EX-PROVINCIALS

GRANTED TO THE PROCURATORS OF THE ORDER OF HERMITS OF ST. AUGUSTINE IN FILIPINAS

Innocent XI, Pope. In future remembrance of the affair.

Innocent XI, Pope. For future remembrance of the incident.

Not long ago it was represented to us on the part of our sons the brethren of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine of the province of the islands known as the Philippines, in the Ocean Sea that as they had to send a religious to attend to urgent matters of the said province in the Roman and Spanish royal courts, nor was any religious found willing to undertake such burden because of the very long and toilsome journey, that could not be made without grave discomforts and danger of life, as also because such procurators after laboring three years and longer in their charge were not allowed any prerogative, the same petitioners very earnestly desire a grant from us to the effect that those who for three continuous years shall exercise the duty of procurator in the said courts shall enjoy the privileges of ex-provincials. Since, moreover, not only the whole province aforesaid, but also the late prior-general of the said order, has petitioned for the grant of such indulgence, therefore the said petitioners have humbly solicited [77]us to make through our apostolic bounty due provision in the premises.

Not long ago, our sons, the members of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine from the Philippines, reached out to us. They needed to send someone to address urgent matters in the royal courts of Rome and Spain, but no one was willing to take on that responsibility due to the long and difficult journey, which came with serious discomforts and life-threatening dangers. Additionally, those who served as procurators for three years or more did not receive any special privileges. The petitioners strongly wish for us to grant that those who fulfill the role of procurator in these courts for three consecutive years should receive the privileges of ex-provincials. Furthermore, since not only the entire province but also the former prior-general of their order has requested this allowance, the petitioners have respectfully asked [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] us to make due provisions through our apostolic goodwill.

1. Accordingly, desiring to reward the petitioners with special favors and graces, moreover considering them all and singular to be free from any sort of excommunication, ... and being not indisposed to hearken to their prayers, with the counsel of our venerable brethren the cardinals of the Holy Roman Church who are in charge of matters appertaining to bishops and regulars, and with the consent of the aforementioned prior general, by our apostolic authority, in virtue of these presents, we grant and allow those religious of the said province who in the future shall exercise at least for three years the duty of procurator of their province in the aforesaid courts the full and lawful possession and enjoyment of all the privileges, prerogatives, and exemptions now possessed and enjoyed by ex-provincials of the same province—due regard, however, always being had in the premises to the authority of the congregation of the same cardinals.

1. Therefore, wanting to reward the petitioners with special privileges and blessings, and considering them all to be free from any form of excommunication, ... and being open to listening to their requests, with the advice of our respected fellow cardinals of the Holy Roman Church who handle matters related to bishops and regular clergy, and with the consent of the prior general mentioned above, by our apostolic authority, through these documents, we grant and allow those religious from the said province who will serve as procurator for their province in the aforementioned courts for at least three years the full and lawful rights to all the privileges, prerogatives, and exemptions currently enjoyed by former provincials of the same province—keeping in mind the authority of the congregation of the same cardinals.

2. Decreeing that these present letters shall always be held as binding, valid, and efficacious, and shall obtain their plenary and entire results, etc.

2. Declaring that these letters will always be considered binding, valid, and effective, and will achieve their full and complete results, etc.

Given at Rome, at St. Mary Major’s, under the seal of the Fisherman, December 17, 1677, the second year of our pontificate. [78]

Given in Rome, at St. Mary Major’s, under the seal of the Fisherman, December 17, 1677, the second year of our pontificate. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

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ROYAL PATRONAGE EXTENDED TO THE UNIVERSITY OF SANTO TOMAS

The King. Inasmuch as Fray Alonso Sandín,1 definitor and procurator-general of the province of Santo Rosario of the Order of St. Dominic in the Filipinas Islands, has represented to me that a public academic institution was erected in the college of Santo Tomás of the city of Manila, by a bull of his Holiness Innocent X, promulgated November 20, 1645, at the instance of the king my sovereign and father (may he rest in peace) and passed by my Council of the Indias, by virtue of which degrees in the arts and theology are granted in that institution, with full rigor of examinations and publicity, to capable persons in those islands, from which follows a notable advantage for furnishing prebends and curacies, for which the students therein compete, they petition me that, considering this, in order that the students’ energy may not decrease in what at present is flourishing, I be pleased to admit that university [79]under my royal patronage, and declare myself to be its patron. My said Council, having examined the petition, together with an authentic copy of the document erecting the university and of what my fiscal said concerning it, I have considered it expedient to admit, as by this present I do, the said university of the college of Santo Tomás of the city of Manila under my protection, and declare it to be under my royal patronage. I order my president and the auditors of my Audiencia of that city, and request and charge the archbishop of the city, the bishops of the said islands, the ecclesiastical and secular cabildos, the superiors of the orders, and any other of my judges and justices of the islands, that they consider it as such, and observe it; and that they cause to be observed the privileges and exceptions that pertain to it by reason of such patronage, for so is my will. Given in Madrid, May 17, 1680.

The King. Since Fray Alonso Sandín, 1 definitor and procurator-general of the province of Santo Rosario of the Order of St. Dominic in the Philippines, has informed me that a public academic institution was established in the College of Santo Tomás in Manila by a decree from His Holiness Innocent X, issued on November 20, 1645, at the request of my late sovereign father (may he rest in peace), and sanctioned by my Council of the Indies, whereby degrees in arts and theology are awarded in that institution, with rigorous examinations and openness, to qualified individuals in those islands, it follows that there is a significant benefit in providing positions and curacies for which students compete. They ask me to consider this, so that the students’ motivation may remain strong in this thriving situation, and I should agree to recognize that university [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] under my royal patronage, and declare myself its patron. My Council has reviewed the petition, along with an authentic copy of the document establishing the university and the statements made by my fiscal regarding it. I have deemed it appropriate to accept, and by this declaration, I do recognize the university of the College of Santo Tomás in Manila under my protection and declare it to be under my royal patronage. I instruct my president and the auditors of my Audiencia in that city, and I request and charge the archbishop of the city, the bishops of the islands, the ecclesiastical and secular cabildos, the superiors of the orders, and any of my judges and officials in the islands to acknowledge it as such, observe it, and ensure that the privileges and exceptions associated with such patronage are upheld, for this is my will. Given in Madrid, May 17, 1680.

I the King

I the King

By order of the king our sovereign:

By the king's decree:

José de Veitialinage2

José de Veitialinage __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

In the city of Manila, August 21, 1681. The president and auditors of the royal Audiencia and Chancillería of these Filipinas Islands, while in royal Council, after having examined the petition of father Fray Juan de Santa María3 of the Order of [80]Preachers, and rector of the university of Santo Tomás de Aquino, together with his Majesty’s royal decree which is mentioned therein, in which his Majesty receives his university under his royal protection and declares it to be under his royal patronage; and that due execution and fulfilment be given thereto in this royal Audiencia, together with the petition for the fiscal in the examination given it: the aforesaid took the decree in their hands, kissed it, and placed it upon their heads, as a decree of their king and legitimate sovereign (whom may the divine Majesty preserve, with increase of new kingdoms and seigniories); and in obedience thereto declared that they would observe, fulfil, and execute it, in accordance with, and as his Majesty ordains and commands, and—leaving a certified copy of it in the record books—that the original would be returned. Thus they voted and decreed and signed it with their rubrics before the fiscal.

In the city of Manila, August 21, 1681. The president and auditors of the royal Audiencia and Chancillería of the Philippine Islands, while in royal Council, after reviewing the petition from Father Fray Juan de Santa María3 of the Order of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] Preachers, and rector of the University of Santo Tomás de Aquino, along with his Majesty’s royal decree mentioned in it, in which his Majesty places the university under his royal protection and declares it to be under his royal patronage; and that proper execution and compliance be given in this royal Audiencia, along with the petition for the fiscal during the examination: the aforementioned took the decree in their hands, kissed it, and placed it on their heads, acknowledging it as a decree from their king and legitimate sovereign (may the divine Majesty preserve him, with an increase of new kingdoms and territories); and in obedience to it, declared that they would observe, fulfill, and execute it, according to what his Majesty ordains and commands, and—leaving a certified copy in the records—that the original would be returned. Thus they voted, decreed, and signed it with their signatures before the fiscal.

Before me:

In front of me:

Juan Sánchez [81]

Juan Sánchez [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

1 Alonso Sandin made his profession in the Dominican convent of Salamanca, in 1658. After completing his studies, he became a teacher in the college at Plasencia, but resigned that post for the Philippine missions, being then thirty-one years of age; he came in the mission of 1671. He was a teacher in Santo Tomás at Manila, until 1676, when he was sent as procurator to Rome and Madrid, filling that office for twenty years. He died at Madrid, in May, 1701. ↑

1 Alonso Sandin joined the Dominican convent in Salamanca in 1658. After finishing his studies, he became a teacher at the college in Plasencia but left that position to join the Philippine missions when he was thirty-one years old; he arrived as part of the mission in 1671. He taught at Santo Tomás in Manila until 1676, when he was appointed as procurator to Rome and Madrid, a role he held for twenty years. He passed away in Madrid in May 1701. ↑

2 Veitia Linage is best known by his work, Norte de la contratación de las Indias occidentales (Sevilla, 1672) a valuable contribution to the history of Spanish commerce. ↑

2 Veitia Linage is most recognized for his work, Norte de la contratación de las Indias occidentales (Sevilla, 1672), a valuable addition to the history of Spanish commerce. ↑

3 Juan de Santa María came to these islands (1666) from the Dominican convent at Sevilla, where he had professed two years before. He was occupied as a teacher in Santo Tomás, later becoming rector of the university, superior of the province, and incumbent of other high offices therein. From 1694 to 1700 he labored in the missions of Bataan. At the time of his death (April 30, 1715) he was acting provincial. (Reseña biográfica, ii, pp. 24–26.) ↑

3 Juan de Santa María arrived in these islands in 1666 from the Dominican convent in Sevilla, where he had taken his vows two years earlier. He worked as a teacher at Santo Tomás, eventually becoming the rector of the university, the head of the province, and holding other significant positions there. From 1694 to 1700, he served in the missions of Bataan. At the time of his death on April 30, 1715, he was serving as the acting provincial. (Reseña biográfica, ii, pp. 24–26.) ↑

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LETTER TO CARLOS II

Sire:

Dude:

Although the royal Audiencia must give you information of the controversies that have arisen between the religious of St. Dominic and the fathers of the Society of Jesus—from which resulted others between the archbishop of this city and the said fathers, as he attempted to be the judge in their suits, upon which they implored your royal aid—I cannot avoid, for my own part, giving you an account thereof, in order not to fail in my obligation. I must embark in a few days for Nueva Segovia, from which place the despatch that I would send may not arrive in time [for the mail to Acapulco], on account of the storms that may arise and the perils of the way that have been experienced—especially at this present time, with the deaths of several passengers, among them a religious of St. John of God.1

Although the royal Audiencia needs to inform you about the disputes that have come up between the members of St. Dominic and the fathers of the Society of Jesus—which also led to other conflicts with the archbishop of this city as he tried to act as the judge in their cases, and they appealed for your royal support—I feel obligated to give you an account of this matter myself. I need to leave in a few days for Nueva Segovia, and the dispatch I plan to send may not reach you in time for the mail to Acapulco due to potential storms and the dangers of the journey that have been reported, especially now, with several passengers, including a member of St. John of God, having lost their lives. 1

And although in another letter (which I sent by way of Banta) I gave your Majesty a detailed account of the litigation that has begun to take shape between the college of San Joseph, which is in charge [82]of the fathers of the Society, and that of Santo Thomas, which is administered by the fathers of St. Dominic, it has seemed needful that I should continue that account, giving it quite fully on account of the unforeseen events that since have resulted. Years ago the said fathers of St. Dominic began a lawsuit against those of the Society in regard to the priority of their college, and, too, in regard to the authorization enjoyed by the Society of power to confer degrees on their students in arts and theology. After many disputes, and declarations by the royal Audiencia, both parties had recourse to your royal Council of the Indias; the Society obtained sentence in its favor, and the royal executory decree was ordered to be issued—of which, it cannot be doubted, account can be given in the Council. And although the Society have remained in peaceable possession, during the course of so long a time as has elapsed since the said executory decree, the Order of St. Dominic have tried in every way to disturb them—giving, in the “conclusions” which they print, the impression that their university is the only one [in Manila], and that the degrees conferred in that of the Society of Jesus were null and void. And now they are again styling their college of Santo Thomas a “royal college;” and for greater ostentation they placed, on the twenty-fourth of November in the past year, your Majesty’s arms over the gates of the said college. When the fathers of the Society saw this, they raised objections, demanding the observance of what was decreed and ordained by your Majesty in the above-mentioned executory decree, and that the rector of the college of Santo Thomas be notified of it, in order that he might not plead ignorance on [83]account of not being an old resident of this city. The said rector, being notified of this opposition, purposely absented himself. Your royal Audiencia commanded that copies of the decisions of your royal Council, contained in the executory decree, be affixed to the doors of the said college of Santo Thomas, and posted in other public places in this city. The rector, without doubt, must have resented the command by your royal Audiencia; for upon one of the posted copies of the decisions of the Council a lay religious of St. Dominic placed another paper, in which he censured the fathers of the Society for trading and bartering.2 Thereupon immediately came out your archbishop, who is of the said order,3 with official statements against the Society, calling [84]upon many laymen, residents of the city, to express their opinion on the point at issue, under [penalty of] censures. He also sent a notary to the ship “Santa Rossa” (which had put back to port), for the same purpose, because among those who had embarked thereon was Father Gerónimo de Ortega,4 who had been appointed by the said order procurator-general for your royal court and that of Roma, with his companion, Father Luis de Morales.5 This arrogant act was perhaps occasioned by seeing the said procurator and his companion lade on the ship various goods which they ordinarily send to the Marianas for the support and maintenance of the fathers who reside there, and of the others who (as is generally and publicly known) are aided by the said fathers with their accustomed charity and zeal. [85]For these purposes they employ the liberal alms with which your Majesty has been pleased to coöperate in the promotion of a work so to the service of God our Lord, in that and other labors—as in the missions of China and other realms, where they are occupied in preaching the holy gospel. Besides, [I must not omit mention of] the disinterested manner in which they proceed in the administration of the missions which they occupy; this is sufficient testimony to their being so far removed from transactions of that sort, and evidence that we can and ought to understand; for every one knows that they do not exact fees for burials or marriages, or other functions. In this condition has remained the litigation of the said fathers—who are protected by your royal Audiencia; and since it is necessary for a definite account of the proceedings in future, I refer you in everything to the official legal report of the Audiencia. May our Lord prosper your Majesty with the happiness and success that Christendom needs for its protection and promotion. Manila, February 24, 1683.

And although in another letter (which I sent through Banta) I provided your Majesty with a detailed account of the legal dispute that has begun to unfold between the college of San Joseph, run by the fathers of the Society, and that of Santo Thomas, managed by the fathers of St. Dominic, it seems necessary for me to continue that account and provide a full update due to the unexpected events that have occurred since then. Years ago, the fathers of St. Dominic initiated a lawsuit against the Society regarding the priority of their college and the authority the Society has to confer degrees on their students in arts and theology. After many disagreements and declarations from the royal Audiencia, both sides appealed to your royal Council of the Indias; the Society won the ruling in its favor, and a royal executory decree was ordered to be issued—of which, I’m sure, can be confirmed in the Council. And although the Society has maintained peaceful possession since the issuance of that decree, the Order of St. Dominic has tried in every way to disrupt them—suggesting in the “conclusions” they publish that their university is the only one in Manila and that the degrees awarded by the Society of Jesus are worthless. Now they are once again calling their college of Santo Thomas a “royal college,” and to show off, they placed your Majesty’s arms over the gates of that college on November 24 of last year. When the fathers of the Society saw this, they objected, demanding adherence to what was decreed by your Majesty in the aforementioned executory decree, and that the rector of Santo Thomas be informed so he could not claim ignorance since he is not a long-time resident of this city. The rector, upon being notified of this opposition, intentionally stayed away. Your royal Audiencia ordered copies of the decisions from your royal Council in the executory decree to be posted on the doors of Santo Thomas and in other public places in the city. Undoubtedly, the rector must have taken offense to the commands from your royal Audiencia; for one of the posted copies of the Council's decisions was covered by a lay member of St. Dominic, who criticized the fathers of the Society for engaging in trade and bargaining. Immediately after, your archbishop, who belongs to that order, came out with official statements against the Society, urging many laymen from the city to give their opinions on the matter at hand, under threat of censure. He also sent a notary to the ship “Santa Rossa” (which had returned to port) for the same reason, because among those who had boarded was Father Gerónimo de Ortega, who had been appointed by that order as procurator-general for your royal court and that of Rome, along with his companion, Father Luis de Morales. This bold action may have been triggered by seeing the procurator and his companion load various goods onto the ship, which they typically send to the Marianas to support and maintain the fathers who live there, along with the others who, as is widely known, receive assistance from these fathers with their usual charity and dedication. For these purposes, they use the generous donations with which your Majesty has kindly supported a work so beneficial to the service of God our Lord, in that and other efforts—such as the missions in China and other regions where they are engaged in preaching the holy gospel. Moreover, I must highlight the selfless way they manage the missions they oversee; this clearly demonstrates that they are far removed from such transactions, and it's evidence we can and should recognize, for everyone knows they do not charge fees for burials or marriages or other services. This is the current state of the litigation concerning the said fathers—who are protected by your royal Audiencia; and since it is necessary for a complete account of the future proceedings, I refer you to the official legal report from the Audiencia. May our Lord bless your Majesty with the happiness and success that Christendom needs for its protection and advancement. Manila, February 24, 1683.

Francisco, bishop of Nueva Segovia.

Francisco, bishop of Nueva Segovia.

[Endorsed: “Manila; to his Majesty; 1683. The bishop of Nueva Segovia, Don Francisco Pizarro. Received on May 19, 1685, by the hand of Diego Altamirano, procurator of the Society.” These lines are followed by a brief synopsis of the bishop’s letter, and the comment, “Thus far no letter has been received from the Audiencia; but recently letters have come from the bishop of Nueva Caceres, Don Fray Andres Gonzalez, and the assistant bishop Barrientos, which mention, among other matters, the commercial transactions of the Society; and this [86]information has been handed to the fiscal.”]

[Endorsed: “Manila; to his Majesty; 1683. The bishop of Nueva Segovia, Don Francisco Pizarro. Received on May 19, 1685, through Diego Altamirano, representative of the Society.” This is followed by a brief summary of the bishop’s letter and the note, “So far, no letter has been received from the Audiencia; however, recently we got letters from the bishop of Nueva Caceres, Don Fray Andres Gonzalez, and the assistant bishop Barrientos, which mention, among other things, the Society’s business dealings; and this [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] information has been given to the fiscal.”]

[Endorsed: “Council; let two other letters be brought—one from this bishop, and the other from the assistant bishop Duran.”]

[Endorsed: “Council; please bring two more letters—one from this bishop, and the other from Assistant Bishop Duran.”]

[Endorsed: “Council; June 4, 1685. Carry this to the fiscal, so that he can examine with it all the other papers relating to this subject; and let a clerk make a brief of the whole matter.”] [87]

[Endorsed: “Council; June 4, 1685. Please give this to the accountant so he can review it along with all the other documents related to this matter; and have a clerk prepare a summary of everything.”] [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

1 See account of the establishment of this hospital order in Manila (1641) in Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 56–69; and the full history of its first century’s labors there, by the rector of its Manila convent, Fray Juan Manuel Maldonado de Puga (Granada, 1742). ↑

1 Check the account of how this hospital order was established in Manila (1641) in Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 56–69; and the complete history of its first century of work there, written by the rector of its Manila convent, Fray Juan Manuel Maldonado de Puga (Granada, 1742). ↑

2 Montero y Vidal cites (Hist. de Filipinas, i, p. 368) a line of this pasquinade: “He who desires to buy carajais or frying-pans, iron, etc., resorts to the fathers of the Society.” ↑

2 Montero and Vidal reference (Hist. de Filipinas, i, p. 368) a line from this satire: “If you want to buy carajais or frying pans, iron, and so on, you go to the fathers of the Society.” ↑

3 Felipe Fernández de Pardo was born on February 7, 1611, in Valladolid, of noble lineage. At the age of fifteen, he entered the Dominican order in that city. After being ordained, he spent several years as a teacher in colleges of his order, and then joined the Philippine mission, arriving in the islands in 1648. He was a teacher in Santo Thomas for several years, and then its rector; in 1660 was elected prior of the Manila convent, and afterward, provincial. In 1671, he became commissary of the Inquisition at Manila, and in 1677 archbishop of that diocese, although, as the bulls therefor did not arrive, he was not consecrated until October 28, 1681. He was a rigorous censor of public morals, and a strenuous advocate of his ecclesiastical privileges; consequently, he became embroiled with influential private persons, with the secular government, and with the religious orders. As a result, the Audiencia decreed (March, 1683) his banishment, sending him to Lingayén. The new governor, Cruzalaegui, secured Pardo’s reinstatement in his see, which occurred November 15, 1684; then followed more troubles and disputes, the archbishop seeking vengeance on his former enemies. He died on December 31, 1689. See sketch of his life in Reseña biográfica, i, pp. 473–486; and an outline of his official career in Montero y Vidal’s Hist. de Filipinas, i, pp. 365–376. ↑

3 Felipe Fernández de Pardo was born on February 7, 1611, in Valladolid, from a noble family. At fifteen, he joined the Dominican order in that city. After his ordination, he spent several years teaching at colleges in his order, then joined the Philippine mission, arriving in the islands in 1648. He was a teacher at Santo Thomas for several years and then became its rector. In 1660, he was elected prior of the Manila convent and later became provincial. In 1671, he took on the role of commissary of the Inquisition at Manila, and in 1677 was appointed archbishop of that diocese; however, since the official documents did not arrive, he wasn't consecrated until October 28, 1681. He was strict in upholding public morals and strongly defended his ecclesiastical privileges, which led him to conflict with powerful individuals, the secular government, and various religious orders. Consequently, the Audiencia ordered his banishment in March 1683, sending him to Lingayén. The new governor, Cruzalaegui, facilitated Pardo’s return to his post, which occurred on November 15, 1684; afterward, he faced more troubles and disputes, seeking retribution against his former enemies. He died on December 31, 1689. See the sketch of his life in Reseña biográfica, i, pp. 473–486; and an outline of his official career in Montero y Vidal’s Hist. de Filipinas, i, pp. 365–376. ↑

4 Jerónimo de Ortega was born at Tudela, April 12, 1627; he was but fourteen years old when he entered the Jesuit order. In 1654 he entered the Philippine missions, where most of his term of service was devoted to the college at Manila, of which he was successively vice-rector and rector during six years; he also filled other important offices in his order. Sailing for Europe (1683), as related in our text, he died at sea before reaching Acapulco, on November 15 of that year. See Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 356. ↑

4 Jerónimo de Ortega was born in Tudela on April 12, 1627. He was only fourteen when he joined the Jesuit order. In 1654, he went to the Philippine missions, where he spent most of his time at the college in Manila, serving successively as vice-rector and rector for six years. He also held other significant positions within his order. On his way to Europe in 1683, as mentioned in our text, he died at sea before reaching Acapulco on November 15 of that year. See Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 356. ↑

5 Luís de Morales was born in Tordesillas on September 29, 1641, and became a Jesuit novice at the age of seventeen. Later, he devoted himself to the Philippine missions; in Mexico he met Father Sanvitores, who selected Morales to aid him in the evangelization of the Marianas, where he labored three years. In 1671 Morales went to Manila, where he was assigned to the Tagal missions; in 1676 he became rector of Antipolo, and in 1681 vice-rector of Cavite. Going to Europe with Ortega, the latter’s death imposed his responsible mission upon Morales. Having fulfilled its duties, he desired to return to the Philippines, but was detained in Mexico seven years; he came back to Manila about 1698, and soon afterward was elected provincial. His term of office ended, he was rector of the Manila college for four years; and he died there on June 14, 1716. (Murillo Velarde, Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 403–405.) ↑

5 Luís de Morales was born in Tordesillas on September 29, 1641, and became a Jesuit novice at seventeen. Later, he dedicated himself to the Philippine missions; in Mexico, he met Father Sanvitores, who chose Morales to help him in the evangelization of the Marianas, where he worked for three years. In 1671, Morales went to Manila, where he was assigned to the Tagal missions; in 1676, he became the rector of Antipolo, and in 1681, he was appointed vice-rector of Cavite. Traveling to Europe with Ortega, the latter's death left Morales with the responsibility of his mission. After completing his duties, he wanted to return to the Philippines but was held back in Mexico for seven years; he returned to Manila around 1698 and was soon elected provincial. After his term ended, he served as the rector of the Manila college for four years, and he died there on June 14, 1716. (Murillo Velarde, Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 403–405.) ↑

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

INSURRECTIONS BY FILIPINOS IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

Gadanes; 1621

Gadanes; 1621

[An account of this uprising is given by Aduarte in book ii, chap. xvii, of his Historia; see our VOL. XXXII, pp. 113–120.]

[An account of this uprising is provided by Aduarte in book ii, chap. xvii, of his Historia; see our VOL. 32, pp. 113–120.]

In Bohol and Leyte; 1622

Bohol and Leyte; 1622

[See account of the Bohol revolt in VOL. XXIV, pp. 116–119; it also spread to Leyte. We present here some further account, obtained from Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 17, 18; Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 132–136. Concepción (in Hist. de Philipinas, v, pp. 20–25) adds nothing new.]

[See account of the Bohol revolt in VOL. 24, pp. 116–119; it also spread to Leyte. We present here some additional details, obtained from Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 17, 18; Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 132–136. Concepción (in Hist. de Philipinas, v, pp. 20–25) doesn’t add anything new.]

The majority of the ministers in the island of Bohol1 had gone to Zebu, to celebrate the feasts of the beatification of St. Xavier; in their absence Lucifer attempted to possess himself again of those souls. The divata, or demon, appeared to some Indians in the woods—its face covered, like that of one taking the discipline—and commanded them to quit the [88]gospel ministers and the Spanish vassalage, and take refuge in the hills; and to build him a chapel, where he would aid them and give them whatever they needed to pass their lives in happiness and abundance, without the encumbrance of paying tribute to the Spaniards or dues to the churches. Two or three Indians, who on account of their evil deeds were wandering as fugitives, became priests of this divata, in order to persuade the people to apostasy and rebellion; and, to take away the fear which they naturally feel toward the Spaniards, these priests told them that, if they would attack the Spaniards, the divata would cause the mountains to rise against their foe; that the muskets of the latter would not go off, or else the bullets would rebound on those who fired them; that if any Indian should die, the demon would resuscitate him; that the leaves of the trees would be converted into saranga (which is a large fish); that when they cut bejucos, these would distil wine instead of water; that from the banana-leaves they would make fine linen; and, in short, that all would be pleasure, enjoyment, and delight. With these magnificent promises, so attractive to men—and especially to the Indians, who are so inclined to idleness and sloth—four villages revolted; only Loboc (which is the chief village) and Baclayon remained firm in the faith, and in loyalty to the king.

Most of the ministers on the island of Bohol1 had gone to Cebu to celebrate the feast of St. Xavier's beatification. While they were away, Lucifer tried to regain control of those souls. The divata, or demon, appeared to some locals in the woods—its face covered, like someone receiving a discipline—and ordered them to abandon the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]gospel ministers and Spanish rule, urging them to seek refuge in the hills. It instructed them to build him a chapel, promising to help them and provide everything they needed for a happy and abundant life, without the burden of paying tribute to the Spaniards or dues to the churches. Two or three locals, who were wandering as fugitives due to their wrongdoings, became priests of this divata to convince the people to turn away and rebel. To alleviate the natural fear of the Spaniards, these priests told them that if they attacked the Spaniards, the divata would make the mountains rise against their enemies; that the Spaniards' muskets would misfire or that their bullets would bounce back at them; that if any Indian were to die, the demon would bring him back to life; that the leaves of the trees would turn into large fish called saranga; that when they cut vines, these would produce wine instead of water; that they could make fine linen from banana leaves; and, in short, that everything would be pleasure, enjoyment, and delight. With these enticing promises, particularly appealing to the Indians who have a tendency towards idleness, four villages revolted; only Loboc (the main village) and Baclayon remained steadfast in their faith and loyalty to the king.

Information of this reached Zebu, and immediately Don Juan de Alcarazo, alcalde-mayor of Zebu, went to quiet the island;2 he invited them to make [89]peace, for which the rebels did not care. Their boldness increasing, they burned the four villages and their churches; they flung on the ground the rosaries and crosses, and pierced an image of the blessed Virgin eighteen times with javelins—although afterward in Zebu some tried to make amends to her with the most affectionate demonstrations of reverence, and she was placed in our church. Thereupon the chief ordered troops from Zebu, fifty Spaniards and a thousand friendly Indians,3 accompanied by a father; and on New Year’s day, 1622, he began the march to the mountains, where the insurgents were. For five days they traveled through rugged hills and deep ravines, crossing marshes where the mud came to their knees, or even to their waists, and shedding their blood on the thorns and briars. On the fifth day, the insurgents killed a friendly Indian; this they celebrated with loud shouts, and it greatly increased their arrogance. On the following day, more than 1,500 rebel Indians attacked our vanguard, which consisted of sixteen Spaniards and three hundred Indians; but when our muskets were fired so many fell dead that the rebels began to retreat to a bamboo thicket. When we followed them, a heavy rain fell, which encouraged the rebels, for they said that our muskets were then useless. But Heaven favored our cause with a marvel, since, although the pans of the musket-locks were full of water, the soldiers declared that the powder never failed to catch fire, nor did the matches go out. At [90]this the rebels fled into the mountains; and our men arrived at a village of more than a thousand houses, in the midst of which was the temple of their divata. Our troops found there much food, various jewels of silver and gold, and many bells of the sort those people use—all which was given to our Indians. The rebels were in a fortification of stone, in which they had placed many stones and clods of earth to throw at our men; but the latter, covering themselves with their shields, seized the redoubt, with the death of many of the enemy,4 and in a fortnight returned to Loboc. Captain Alcarazo, who was foremost in all these engagements, commanded that some of the rebels be hanged, and published a pardon to the rest; and he returned to Zebu,5 where the victory was celebrated. This success had very important results, for it checked the revolt of other islands and other villages—who were expecting the favorable result which the demon had promised them, so that they could shake off the mild yoke of Christ, and with it their vassalage to the Spaniards. Many of them, now undeceived, accepted the pardon; but others, who were stubborn, fortified themselves at the summit of a rugged and lofty hill, difficult of access, and closed the road [to it] with brambles and thorns.6 [91]They also filled the paths with very sharp stakes driven into the soil, and placed among the branches of the trees many crossbows,7 in order that these, being discharged as our men passed them, might wound the soldiers; and above they provided many stones to throw at the Spaniards, hurling them from the top of the hill. Six months later the same Don Juan Alcarazo returned, to dislodge those rebels with forty Spaniards and many Indians. After suffering great hardships in making the paths accessible, nearly all his men were hurt, by the time they reached the fort, by the many stones which the enemy hurled down from the summit; but our soldiers courageously climbed the ascent, firing their muskets, and killed many of the rebels, putting the rest to flight. Thus was dispersed that sedition, which was one of the most dangerous that had occurred in the islands—not only because the Boholans were the most warlike and valiant of the Indians, but on account of the conspiracy spreading to many other tribes. Noble examples of fidelity in this great disturbance are not lacking. [Murillo Velarde here mentions two instances of this.]

Information of this reached Cebu, and immediately Don Juan de Alcarazo, the chief magistrate of Cebu, went to pacify the island;2 he urged them to make [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]peace, which the rebels ignored. Their boldness grew, and they burned the four villages and their churches; they tossed the rosaries and crosses on the ground and pierced an image of the Blessed Virgin eighteen times with javelins—although later in Cebu, some tried to make amends to her with the most affectionate expressions of reverence, and she was placed in our church. Then the chief ordered troops from Cebu, consisting of fifty Spaniards and a thousand friendly Indians,3 along with a priest; and on New Year’s day, 1622, he began the march to the mountains where the insurgents were. They traveled for five days through rugged hills and deep ravines, crossing marshes where the mud went up to their knees or even to their waists, shedding their blood on thorns and briars. On the fifth day, the insurgents killed a friendly Indian; they celebrated this with loud shouts, which fueled their arrogance even more. The next day, over 1,500 rebel Indians attacked our vanguard, which was made up of sixteen Spaniards and three hundred Indians; but when our muskets were fired, so many fell dead that the rebels began to retreat into a bamboo thicket. As we pursued them, a heavy rain fell, which gave the rebels confidence, as they thought our muskets were now useless. However, Heaven favored our cause with a miracle, since, although the pans of the musket-locks were full of water, the soldiers claimed that the powder still caught fire, and the matches did not go out. At [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]this, the rebels fled into the mountains; and our men reached a village of more than a thousand houses, at the center of which was the temple of their divata. Our troops found plenty of food, various jewels of silver and gold, and many bells that the locals used—all of which was given to our Indians. The rebels were barricaded in a stone fortification, where they had piled many stones and clods of earth to throw at our men; but the latter, using their shields for cover, captured the redoubt, resulting in many enemy casualties,4 and returned to Loboc in two weeks. Captain Alcarazo, who led all these engagements, ordered that some of the rebels be hanged and announced a pardon for the rest; then he returned to Cebu,5 where the victory was celebrated. This success had significant consequences as it halted the revolt in other islands and villages—who were anticipating the favorable outcome promised by the demon, which would allow them to shake off the gentle yoke of Christ, and their subservience to the Spaniards. Many, now disillusioned, accepted the pardon, but others, who were stubborn, fortified themselves at the top of a rugged, steep hill, which was difficult to access, and blocked the road [to it] with brambles and thorns.6 [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]They also filled the paths with sharp stakes driven into the ground and set up many crossbows among the branches of the trees,7 ready to injure the soldiers when discharged as our men passed, and above they placed many stones to throw at the Spaniards from the top of the hill. Six months later, Don Juan Alcarazo returned to dislodge those rebels with forty Spaniards and many Indians. After enduring great hardships to clear the pathways, nearly all his men were injured by the numerous stones the enemy hurled down from above; yet our soldiers bravely climbed the ascent, firing their muskets, killed many of the rebels, and put the rest to flight. Thus, that insurrection was quelled, which was one of the most dangerous that had occurred in the islands—not only because the Boholans were the most warlike and brave of the Indians but because the conspiracy had spread to many other tribes. Noble examples of loyalty during this great upheaval are not lacking. [Murillo Velarde here mentions two instances of this.]

The natives of Carigara in the island of Leyte became impatient, and revolted without waiting for [92]the result in Bohol, incited thereto by Bancao, the ruling chief of Limasava—who in the year 15658 received with friendly welcome Miguel Lopez de Legazpi and the Spaniards who came to his island, supplying them with what they needed, for which Phelipe II sent him a royal decree, thanking him for the kind hospitality which he showed to those first Spaniards. He was baptised and, although a young man, showed that he was loyal to the Christians; but, conquered by the enemy [of souls], he changed sides in his old age.9 This man lived in the island of Leyte, and with a son of his and another man, Pagali (whom he chose as priest of his idolatry), erected a sacred place to the divata, or devil; and they induced six villages in the island to rebel. In order to remove from them their fear of the Spaniards, these men told their followers that they could change the Spaniards into stones as soon as they saw them, by repeating the word bato, which signifies “stone;” and that a woman or a child could change them into clay by flinging earth upon them. Father Melchor de Vera went to Zebu to give warning of this sedition and obtain aid to check it. Captain Alcarazo equipped an armada of forty vessels, in which were embarked some Spaniards and many friendly Indians, also the father rector of Zebu and Father Vera; these united with the forces (both Spanish and Indian) that the alcalde of Leyte had. They offered peace to the rebels, but the latter spurned it with contempt. Our men, divided into [93]three bodies, attacked them; and, when that which Don Juan de Alcarazo commanded came in sight of the rebels, they fled to the hills. Our soldiers followed them, and on the way put to the sword or shot those whom they encountered; and, although the compassion of the Spaniards spared the children and women,10 these could not escape the fury of the Indians. Many of the rebels died, the enchantment not availing them by which they had thought to turn the Spaniards into stone or clay; the rest saved themselves by flight. The Spaniards came to a large building which the rebels had erected for their divata; they encamped in it ten days, and then burned it. Some one pierced with a lance Bancao, the chief instigator of the rebellion, not knowing who he was, whom two of his slaves were carrying on their shoulders and immediately his head was placed on a stake as a public warning. He and his children came to a wretched end, as a punishment for their infidelity and apostasy; for his second son was beheaded as a traitor, and a daughter of his was taken captive. To inspire greater terror, the captain gave orders to shoot three or four rebels, and to burn11 one of their priests—in order that, by the light of that fire, the blindness in which the divata had kept them deluded might be removed. The Spaniards [94]also cut off the head of an Indian who had robbed Father Vinancio [i.e., Vilancio] and broken to pieces an image of the Virgin, and kicked a crucifix; and his head was set up in the same place where he had committed those horrible sacrileges. There were many who, in the midst of so furious a tempest, remained constant in their religious belief. [Several instances of this are related by the author.]

The people of Carigara in Leyte grew impatient and revolted without waiting for the outcome in Bohol, spurred on by Bancao, the chief of Limasava. In 1565, he had welcomed Miguel Lopez de Legazpi and the Spaniards to his island with open arms, providing them with what they needed. For this, King Philip II sent him a royal decree thanking him for his generous hospitality to those first Spaniards. He was baptized and, although he was young, demonstrated loyalty to the Christians. However, in his old age, overcome by temptation, he switched sides. Bancao lived on Leyte, and with his son and another man, Pagali (whom he appointed as a priest for his pagan worship), he built a shrine to the divata, or devil, and persuaded six villages on the island to rebel. To remove their fear of the Spaniards, they told their followers they could turn the Spaniards into stones by saying the word bato, meaning “stone,” and that a woman or child could turn them into clay by throwing dirt on them. Father Melchor de Vera went to Cebu to warn of this uprising and seek help to stop it. Captain Alcarazo organized a fleet of forty ships, carrying some Spaniards and many supporting Indians, along with the father rector of Cebu and Father Vera. They joined forces with the Spanish and Indian troops led by the alcalde of Leyte. They offered peace to the rebels, but the rebels rejected it with disdain. Our men, divided into three groups, attacked; when Don Juan de Alcarazo's contingent appeared before the rebels, they fled to the hills. Our soldiers pursued them, killing those they encountered, and while the Spaniards showed mercy by sparing the children and women, the Indians did not. Many rebels died, as the magic they believed would turn the Spaniards into stone or clay failed. The rest escaped. The Spaniards came across a large building the rebels had constructed for their divata, camped there for ten days, and then burned it down. Someone accidentally pierced Bancao, the chief instigator of the rebellion, with a lance, not recognizing him. Two of his slaves carried him, and his head was immediately displayed on a stake as a public warning. He and his family met a tragic end as punishment for their betrayal; his second son was executed as a traitor, and one of his daughters was captured. To instill more fear, the captain ordered three or four rebels to be executed and one of their priests to be burned, so that the light of the fire would dispel the delusions kept alive by the divata. The Spaniards also executed an Indian who had robbed Father Vinancio and vandalized an image of the Virgin and kicked a crucifix, placing his head on display in the same spot where he committed those sacrilegious acts. Many remained steadfast in their faith despite such a fierce storm of conflict. [Several instances of this are related by the author.]

Mandayas; 1625

Mandayas; 1625

[For particulars of this insurrection, see Aduarte’s Historia, book ii, chaps, xxviii, xxx, in our VOL. XXXII, pp. 147–152, 162. Cf. Ferrando’s account, Hist. de los PP. Dominicos, ii, pp. 114–117; and our VOL. XXII, pp. 69, 95.]

[For details about this uprising, refer to Aduarte’s Historia, book ii, chaps, xxviii, xxx, in our VOL. 32, pp. 147–152, 162. See also Ferrando’s account, Hist. de los PP. Dominicos, ii, pp. 114–117; and our VOL. 22, pp. 69, 95.]

In Caraga and in Cagayan; 1629

In Caraga and in Cagayan; 1629

[See VOL. XXIV, pp. 165, 175, 177, 216, 217, 229; and fuller account of that in Caraga, in Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, v, pp. 163–179 (in our VOL. XXXV, pp. 89–91).]

[See VOL. 24, pp. 165, 175, 177, 216, 217, 229; and a more detailed account of that in Caraga, in Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, v, pp. 163–179 (in our VOL. 35, pp. 89–91).]

In Nueva Segovia; 1639

In Nueva Segovia; 1639

[See Santa Cruz’s account (Hist. Sant. Rosario) in our VOL. XXXV, pp. 47–51.]

[See Santa Cruz’s account (Hist. Sant. Rosario) in our VOL. 35, pp. 47–51.]

Map of the Philippine Islands, drawn by Captain John Kempthorne, ca. 1688; (evidently from earlier map of 1676); photographic facsimile

Map of the Philippine Islands, drawn by Captain John Kempthorne, ca. 1688; (evidently from earlier map of 1676); photographic facsimile

Map of the Philippine Islands, created by Captain John Kempthorne, circa 1688; (clearly based on an earlier map from 1676); photographic facsimile

[From original manuscript map in the British Museum]

[From original manuscript map in the British Museum]

In Pampanga, 1645; and in Bulacán, 1643

In Pampanga, 1645; and in Bulacán, 1643

[The following is taken from Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 483, 484:]

[The following is taken from Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 483, 484:]

This fearful earthquake12 was general in all these Filipinas, although it was more severe in some regions than in others—for in the province of Cagayán, in [the land of] one people called Maynanes, a great mountain was cleft open; and the havoc made by it [97]extended as far as Maluco. In the heights of Gapang,13 in the province of Pampanga, it was very severe, and lasted several days. Even greater damage might have been done by an uprising that was plotted by an Indian of evil disposition in the villages of Gapang, Santor, Caranglán, and Patabangán, exhorting the natives there to rebel and restore themselves to their former liberty, by slaying the Spaniards and the religious. He assured them that in Manila there were no Spaniards left, because the earth had swallowed them, with the entire city, on the night of the earthquake that occurred on St. Andrew’s day; and that the demon, with whom he had compact and intercourse, had promised him that he would aid the natives so that they might maintain themselves without paying tribute, and might enjoy much prosperity, and provided that they would slay the fathers and burn the churches. The delusion of the Indians of Gapang went so far that they seized arms, and summoned to their aid many heathen Zambals, and burned the churches of Santor and Pantabangán. When this was known in Manila, the encomendero of those villages, Admiral Rodrigo de Mesa, offered his services to pacify them, and went to Gapang with Alférez Callejas, their collectors of tribute, and some friendly Indians; but the insurgents, who now were numerous, badly wounded the encomendero, who fled on horseback, and a year later died from that wound at Manila. They slew Alférez Callejas and many of the loyal Indians who went in his company, and fortified themselves in the [98]mountains. The prior and minister, Fray Juan Cabello, escaped by the aid of some other Indians who were not of the hostile party, came to Manila, and gave information of the progress of the rebellion. Opinions differed as to the methods which should be employed in pacifying the insurgents; and our father provincial, Fray Alonso Carbajal, decided to send the father lecturer Fray Juan de Abarca,14 a religious for whom the natives of that district had much affection and respect, since he had been their minister for many years. With this commission this religious set out for Pampanga, taking with him a companion, Master-of-camp Don Agustin Songsong, a valiant Pampango, with as many soldiers of that people as seemed necessary. They arrived at Gapang, and by means of father Fray Juan de Abarca’s preaching and his earnest efforts—which would take too long to relate, as would the many perils of death to which he exposed himself—that sedition was finally quelled, and the insurgents returned to their former quiet. But the Indian sorcerer, the cause of this disturbance, did not make his appearance, notwithstanding all the efforts that were made to find him.

This terrifying earthquake12 affected all the Philippines, but it was worse in some areas than in others—particularly in the province of Cagayán, where a huge mountain split open; the devastation from this [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] extended as far as Maluco. In the heights of Gapang,13 in Pampanga, it was extremely severe and lasted for several days. Even more damage could have occurred from a revolt that was planned by a malicious Indian in the villages of Gapang, Santor, Caranglán, and Patabangán, urging the locals to rebel and regain their freedom by killing the Spanish and the priests. He convinced them that there were no Spaniards left in Manila because the earth had swallowed them and the entire city on the night of the earthquake that happened on St. Andrew’s Day; he claimed that the demon he had made a pact with promised to help the natives maintain their independence without paying tribute, and gain prosperity, as long as they killed the priests and burned the churches. The delusion among the Indians of Gapang grew so intense that they grabbed weapons, called on many heathen Zambals for reinforcement, and burned the churches of Santor and Pantabangán. When this reached Manila, the encomendero of those villages, Admiral Rodrigo de Mesa, offered to help pacify them. He went to Gapang with Alférez Callejas, their tribute collectors, and some friendly Indians; however, the now numerous insurgents severely wounded the encomendero, who fled on horseback and died from that wound in Manila a year later. They killed Alférez Callejas and many loyal Indians who accompanied him and fortified themselves in the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] mountains. The prior and minister, Fray Juan Cabello, managed to escape with the help of some other Indians who were not part of the hostile group, made his way to Manila, and reported on the situation of the rebellion. There was a difference of opinion on how to deal with the insurgents; our provincial father, Fray Alonso Carbajal, decided to send the father lecturer Fray Juan de Abarca,14 a religious figure who was well-liked and respected by the locals since he had been their minister for many years. This religious set out for Pampanga with a companion, Master-of-camp Don Agustin Songsong, a brave Pampango, along with as many soldiers from that area as necessary. They reached Gapang, and through the preaching and earnest efforts of Father Fray Juan de Abarca—which would take too long to explain, as would the many life-threatening situations he faced—that rebellion was finally subdued, and the insurgents returned to their previous state of peace. However, the Indian sorcerer, the root cause of this unrest, remained missing despite all the efforts to locate him.

Another rebellion, which threatened a great outbreak, was checked (in the year 1643) by father Fray Cristobal Enriquez. In the district of Malolos in the province of Bulacán, an Indian named Don Pedro Ladía, a native of Borney, went about promoting sedition; he proclaimed that to him belonged the right of being king over the provinces of Tagalos, [99]alleging that he was a descendant of Raja Matanda,15 the petty king whom the Spaniards found at Manila in the year 1571. With these and other impostures, aided by wine—the chief counselor in matters of policy and war, among those natives—and with the consultations with the demon which always figure on these occasions, he kept many villages of that district disquieted. But the sagacious procedure of father Fray Cristobal Enriquez intercepted all these misfortunes which were threatening us, by furnishing a plan for the arrest of Don Pedro Ladía—who already was styling himself “king of the Tagálogs;” he was sent to Manila, where, he paid with his life for his vain presumption. And thus this revolt, lacking even that weak foundation, was entirely quieted.

Another rebellion, which threatened a major outbreak, was stopped (in the year 1643) by Father Fray Cristobal Enriquez. In the district of Malolos in the province of Bulacán, an Indian named Don Pedro Ladía, a native of Borney, went around stirring up trouble; he declared that he had the right to be king over the provinces of Tagalos, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] claiming that he was a descendant of Raja Matanda, 15 the petty king whom the Spaniards found in Manila in 1571. With these and other lies, supported by wine—the main advisor in issues of policy and war among those natives—and with consultations with the devil that always come up in these situations, he kept many villages in that area unsettled. However, the clever actions of Father Fray Cristobal Enriquez prevented all these troubles from escalating, by creating a plan to arrest Don Pedro Ladía—who was already calling himself “king of the Tagálogs;” he was sent to Manila, where he paid with his life for his foolish presumption. Thus, this revolt, lacking even a weak foundation, was completely silenced.

In the Pintados; 1649–50

In the Pintados; 1649–50

[The best authorities on this insurrection are the Jesuit historians, since it arose in regions under their spiritual charge. We select the earliest account, that of Combés, written while the incidents of that time were fresh in men’s minds; it is found in his Hist. de Mindanao, col. 489–498. Murillo Velarde also relates these events, in Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 171b–175. Cf. the Augustinian Diaz, in Conquistas, pp. 517–523; and the Recollect Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vi, pp. 247–280.]

[The best sources on this uprising are the Jesuit historians since it happened in areas under their spiritual care. We choose the earliest account, that of Combés, written while the events were still fresh in people's minds; it can be found in his Hist. de Mindanao, col. 489–498. Murillo Velarde also describes these events in Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 171b–175. See also the Augustinian Diaz, in Conquistas, pp. 517–523; and the Recollect Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vi, pp. 247–280.]

The queen of Joló, Tuambaloca, wrote at the same time, asking permission to come to end her days in the island of Basilan, and all was so secure from war that she remained as arbiter of peace for all the islands of Samboangan; and, as such, even the governor [100]of Manila availed himself of her power16 in order to pacify the disturbances in the islands....

The queen of Joló, Tuambaloca, wrote at the same time, asking for permission to come and spend her final days on the island of Basilan. Everything was so peaceful that she became the mediator for peace across all the Samboangan islands. Even the governor [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] of Manila sought her influence 16 to help calm the unrest in the islands....

This occasion made sufficiently evident the greatness of the benefit that the islands owe to the Society for the [treaties of] peace made with these kings—thus finding the royal arms at liberty for more pressing exigencies, and being set free, as regards those kings, from the most painful anxiety lest their forces would be allied with our dangers. With this, attention could be given to the punishment of Burney, a pirate as cruel as impious; and to finding external relief in the domestic losses and evils which had rendered our safety so uncertain. [Our forces were thus ready] in an almost general revolt of all the islands, in the provinces that were most subjugated and had never tested the keenness of our arms; for they had yielded to the echoes of our trumpets, receiving our troops in peace. But in these recent years had been operating in these new worlds the influences of that malign planet which was ruining Europe (and especially our España), with revolts of entire kingdoms, and has caused rivers of blood to run in the populous kingdom of China; and it reached these islands, to wreak on them its fierceness. And God—permitting evil, for the credit of virtue and the reward of the good—gave warlike courage to the most pusillanimous tribes, and armed the nakedness of these Indians to resist the unconquerable steel of our Spaniards.

This event clearly showed how much the islands benefit from the agreements made with these kings—granting royal forces freedom to address more urgent needs, and easing the constant worry about their forces potentially aligning with our threats. This allowed us to focus on dealing with Burney, a pirate who was as ruthless as he was wicked, and to seek external support for the domestic losses and troubles that had made our safety so uncertain. [Our forces were thus ready] amidst a near-total uprising across all the islands, particularly in the regions that were most oppressed and had never fully experienced the strength of our military; they had surrendered to the sound of our trumpets, welcoming our troops peacefully. However, in recent years, the effects of that malevolent force, which was destroying Europe (especially our Spain), had been felt in these new territories, stirring up revolts among entire kingdoms and causing rivers of blood to flow in the populous kingdom of China; it reached these islands to unleash its fury. And God—allowing evil, to uphold virtue and reward the good—inspired courage in the most cowardly tribes, and equipped these Indians to stand against the invincible steel of our Spaniards.

The first region to declare against us was the province of Ibabao, which is in the island of Samar; [101]it is the coast which faces the north, beaten by the sea of Nueva España. There the Society has a new residence, which is occupied by six fathers. All the villages connected with it revolted, following the audacious stand of the chief among them, which is Palapag. This was occasioned by the oppressions arising from our public works—which is a motive that should appeal to them, since they were the ones interested in the defense [of the coasts against their enemies]. But the Indians, as barbarians, do not heed future perils, but rather present fatigues; and to these their slothful nature opposes itself. The losses of galleons made it necessary to maintain in that province a shipyard. This drafted all the carpenters from Manila, and, in order to supply those that were needed on that shore, it was necessary to demand from each province a certain number—a quota of hardly one to each village, and this so equitably that to worldly prudence these allotments seemed advantageous, for which many would eagerly ask. But as the Indians have grown up in their wretchedness and in the life of brutes in their remote mountains, it seems to them that they are maintaining their liberty. They resented greatly this political compulsion to citizenship and the formation of a village, [so that they would live] as men. Those in the provinces that were most civilized and were nearest to Manila had obeyed the decree without opposition, but these [remote] provinces immediately made such demonstrations of displeasure that all of us perceived the difficulty [of enforcing the demand], and several undertook to represent it [to the authorities]. Don Diego de Faxardo was the governor, a man so harsh in his methods, and having so little pious regard for [102]the [religious] ministers, that their intercessions only made him more cruel, on account of the dogmatic opinion which he followed, that the ministers are the ones who oppose the royal service. Accordingly they all gave up any active opposition, but moderated in a thousand ways the execution [of the decree] (which they saw could not be avoided), sometimes with gifts, sometimes with considerations of utility. The men of Ibabao, trusting in the ruggedness of their coast or the inaccessibility of their mountains, or in the succor which had been positively promised to them by the Dutch—who every year make port on their coasts, awaiting with their armed fleets the relief [sent us] from Nueva España—immediately declared themselves [against us]. At the outset, in their stubbornness and disobedience, until their affairs were settled and their retreat prevented, they talked of fleeing to the mountains. This was their first opinion; but a malicious Indian interfered in the discussion, and told them that they could not accomplish anything by that course, because the village would not be destroyed, nor would the promoters [of the rebellion] have the following that they desired, unless they ordered that all should rebel, and slay the father, and burn the church; for their guilt in such action would intimidate all of them. As their councils were held in the excitement of wine, all readily approved this extravagant proposal. Immediately the demon offered them, for its execution, the evilly-inclined mind of a vile Indian named Sumoroy, who, although he had been much favored by the fathers as being a skilful pilot on the sea, and on this account had always enjoyed immunity from tribute and personal services, and was [103]actually the castellan of the fortified residence that they had there, yet desired—because they had removed an obstacle17 which for many years had kept him at variance with and separated from his lawful wife—to find an opportunity for vengeance. This man offered to kill the father; and, confirming his resolve with many draughts to his success, and loud shouts, they dreamed that they were already masters of the entire world, and had slain all the Spaniards. He had already prejudiced their minds against his enemy, telling each Indian in the village separately that he had been assigned by the father to go to the Manila shore; consequently, no one now repaired to mass or took notice of public affairs. The father rector—who was Father Miguel Ponce Barberan, a native of the kingdom of Aragon—saw plainly the hostile disposition of the people, but never could have imagined so insane a resolve; and if any one could most confidently throw aside anxiety it was this father, for he had been, without contradiction, the most beloved and cherished by the natives, of all the fathers who had itinerated there—and, as well, the one who had spent most years in ministering to those people. A Tuesday, then, the first day of June in the year 1649, the traitor selected for his sacrilegious parricide; and, as a thief in the house, who knew its avenues of entrance and egress very well, he took his stand within, awaiting the father at the top of the stairway, when he should ascend it after supper. While the father halted on the stairs to say a prayer for the souls in purgatory—for which, it happened, the bells were ringing—Sumoroy hurled a javelin at him from [104]above, which pierced his breast and immediately brought him to the ground; nor did he breathe again, spending his last energy in pronouncing the sweet names of Jesus and Mary.

The first region to turn against us was the province of Ibabao, located on the island of Samar; [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]it is the northern coast, battered by the sea of Nueva España. The Society has a new residence there, home to six fathers. All the nearby villages revolted, following the bold stance of their leader, Palapag. This was prompted by the oppression from our public works—a reason that should resonate with them, as they were tasked with defending the coasts from their enemies. However, the locals, being somewhat uncivilized, focus on immediate hardships rather than future dangers, with their lazy tendencies getting in the way. The losses of galleons made it necessary to set up a shipyard in this province. This meant pulling all the carpenters from Manila, and to fill the needs on that shore, we had to request a certain number from each province—a quota of barely one from each village. This arrangement seemed fair enough that many would willingly support it. But as the locals have lived in misery, akin to beasts in their isolated mountains, they feel they are maintaining their freedom. They were deeply resentful of this forced citizenship and the push to form a village, [to live] as human beings. Those in more civilized provinces closer to Manila complied with the order without protest, but these [remote] provinces quickly expressed such discontent that we all recognized the challenges [in enforcing the demand], prompting several to bring it up [to the authorities]. Don Diego de Faxardo was the governor, known for his harsh methods and lack of respect for [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the ministers, which made their pleas only provoke him further, as he believed that the ministers were the ones impeding royal service. Thus, they all backed off from any active opposition but found various ways to soften the impact [of the decree], whether through gifts or practical considerations. The people of Ibabao, confident in the ruggedness of their coast or the inaccessibility of their mountains, or in the support promised by the Dutch—who arrive yearly on their shores with armed fleets waiting for the aid [sent to us] from Nueva España—quickly declared themselves [against us]. Initially, in their stubbornness and defiance, until their issues were resolved and their escape blocked, they considered fleeing to the mountains. That was their first thought; however, a scheming Indian intervened in the conversation, telling them that they wouldn't achieve anything that way, as the village wouldn’t be destroyed, nor would the instigators [of the rebellion] gain the following they wanted, unless they ordered a full rebellion, killing the father and burning the church, as their guilt would intimidate everyone. Fueled by wine, they eagerly accepted this outrageous idea. Instantly, the wicked spirit offered them the troubled mind of a despicable Indian named Sumoroy, who, despite having been favored by the fathers for being a skilled sea pilot, and thus enjoying exemptions from tribute and labor, wanted revenge because they had removed a barrier that had kept him apart from his rightful wife for many years. This man volunteered to kill the father, and, bolstered by multiple drinks to boost his courage and loud cheers, they believed they were already masters of the world, having slain all the Spaniards. He had already soured their minds against his enemy, telling each villager separately that the father had ordered him to go to the Manila shore; as a result, no one attended mass or participated in community matters. The father rector—who was Father Miguel Ponce Barberan, from the kingdom of Aragon—clearly saw the hostility of the people but never imagined such an insane plan; and if anyone could cast aside worry, it was this father, as he had been, without exception, the most beloved by the locals of all the fathers who had worked there—and also the one who had spent the most time ministering to them. On Tuesday, June 1, 1649, the traitor chose the moment for his sacrilegious act; and like a thief familiar with every entrance and exit, he positioned himself inside, waiting for the father to come up the stairs after dinner. While the father paused on the stairs to pray for the souls in purgatory—coincidentally, the bells were ringing—Sumoroy threw a javelin at him from [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]above, which struck his chest and brought him down immediately; he did not take another breath, using his last strength to say the sweet names of Jesus and Mary.

For two days the fathers remained at home in suspense, without understanding the cause of this evil deed, or knowing who was its author; and the rebels themselves delayed to commit sacrileges by breaking with shame and declaring themselves [rebels]. Finally, on the day of Corpus Christi, about noon, the murderer came in sight, leading the multitude, and openly declared that it was he who had slain the father, loudly defying the whole world. They gave the fathers and the brother whom they found in the house the opportunity to leave it, provided that they removed nothing from it; and immediately, as barbarians and enemies of God—forgetting the faith and Christian belief of so many years, in which they had grown up—they sacked and burned the church and house, profaning the ornaments, and cutting from them drawers and turbans according to their old-time usage. If there were any of the faithful [among the crowd], they let themselves be persuaded by the argument of the barbarians for their timidity, that if they remained among the insurgents the anger of the Spaniards would be moderated, and accordingly they followed the perverse ones. The report of this sacrilegious act fanned the flame of infernal zeal itself, and found the minds of the people so ready that, almost as if there had been a general decision and they only awaited the signal for putting it into execution, in almost all the villages on that coast they burned their churches, the ministers fled, and the rebels retreated to the [105]mountains, where they fancied they could maintain their former brutal mode of life.

For two days, the fathers stayed at home, anxious and confused, not knowing the reason behind this terrible act or who was responsible for it. The rebels hesitated to commit sacrilege by openly declaring themselves as such. Finally, on the day of Corpus Christi, around noon, the murderer appeared, leading the crowd, and boldly announced that he was the one who had killed the father, defiantly challenging the world. They gave the fathers and the brother in the house a chance to leave without taking anything with them. Then, like savages and enemies of God—forgetting the faith they had grown up with for so many years—they looted and burned the church and house, desecrating the furnishings and tearing up decorations as was their custom. If there were any loyal followers among the crowd, their fear led them to believe the barbarians' argument that staying with the insurgents would lessen the Spaniards' anger, so they sided with the wrongdoers. The news of this sacrilegious act fueled intense anger among the people, who were so primed for action that it seemed like they were just waiting for a signal to carry out their plans. In nearly all the villages along that coast, they burned their churches, the ministers fled, and the rebels retreated to the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]mountains, where they thought they could continue their old brutal lifestyle.

In the rest of the provinces—either because they perhaps regarded it as somewhat discreditable that the men of Ibabao should display their valor in order to oppose the Spaniards, and they themselves not do so; or because all of them were (as some desire to be) in communication with the Dutch—they proceeded to follow the example and imitate the boldness of the men of Palapag. Our arms would be found greatly embarrassed if those of the Dutch were to add confidence to the insolence of the Indians; and, at the very least, there would not remain a province which would not be up in arms, and no minister or Spaniard of those who were scattered among them would escape. But God our Lord, who chastised as a father, and chose to correct with clemency the wickedness with which the Spaniards abuse the subject condition of these natives—and as a warning to the latter, to confirm them in the truth of our holy faith and disabuse them of their errors—so adjusted the times that although the Dutch fleets had not failed to come to the islands for ten years past, about that very month [i.e., June], in this year the peace kept them away, and the publication of it arrived here in good time, so that our forces were left free for the punishment [of the rebels].

In the other provinces—either because they thought it was kind of embarrassing for the Ibabao men to show their courage against the Spaniards while they did not; or because, like some, they were in touch with the Dutch—they decided to follow the lead and match the bravery of the Palapag men. Our forces would be in big trouble if the Dutch gave the Indians more confidence to act out; and at the very least, there wouldn't be a single province that wouldn’t rise up, and no minister or Spaniard among them would escape. But God, who corrects like a father and chooses to discipline with kindness the wrongdoing of the Spaniards in their treatment of these natives—and as a warning to them, to strengthen their belief in our holy faith and clear them of their misconceptions—timed things so that although the Dutch fleets had not stopped coming to the islands for the past ten years, in June of this year, the peace kept them away, and the announcement of it arrived just in time, allowing our forces to focus on punishing the rebels.

Immediately the province of Camarines, on the mainland of Manila, declared itself against us, and the father guardian [of the Franciscans] was banished from Solsogon; and their lead was followed by their island of Masbate, where an alférez was put to death. This presumptuous act disturbed the peace of Cebú Island; and its natives also, without fearing [106]the strong fort and the city to near them, also defied us, another officer being slain there. In the province of Caraga, the men of Linao revolted, displaying their evil intentions by the murder of the father prior (a discalced Augustinian), and of the Spaniards in a small garrison which was kept there, some dozen in number; but few escaped, and those were badly wounded. In the province of Iligan, which borders on Caraga, the Manobos, a barbarian tribe, seized the peaceable village of Cagayan. The entire coast [i.e., of northern Mindanao], and the adjacent island of Camigin, followed their example; in Camigin they bound the father prior (also a discalced Augustinian), the impious Indians going so far as to place their brutal feet on the neck of the holy religious. In the jurisdiction of Samboangan, the Subanos went astray—their principal village, named Siocon, releasing itself from obedience with the sacrilegious parricide of Father Juan del Campo, and the atrocious murder of his companions, as we shall afterward relate. The Boholans, on account of their valor, retained their esteem for the faith. Thus, for the punishment of so many atrocious deeds and for quelling the insolence of the barbarians, there remained to us no other arms than those of Samboangan, and no other auxiliaries than those people who had been our friends for so few years.

Immediately, the province of Camarines, on the mainland of Manila, declared itself against us, and the father guardian of the Franciscans was expelled from Solsogon. Following their lead, the island of Masbate also rebelled, where an alférez was killed. This audacious act disrupted the peace of Cebu Island, and its inhabitants, undeterred by the strong fort and the nearby city, also defied us, resulting in another officer's death there. In the province of Caraga, the men of Linao revolted, openly showing their malicious intent by murdering the father prior (a discalced Augustinian) and the Spanish soldiers in a small garrison, which consisted of only a few dozen; most were killed, and those who escaped were severely wounded. In the province of Iligan, which borders Caraga, the Manobos, a wild tribe, took control of the peaceful village of Cagayan. The entire northern coast of Mindanao and the nearby island of Camigin followed their lead; in Camigin, they captured the father prior (also a discalced Augustinian) and even went so far as to place their brutal feet on the neck of the holy religious. In the jurisdiction of Samboangan, the Subanos went astray—their main village, named Siocon, broke away from obedience through the sacrilegious murder of Father Juan del Campo and the horrific killing of his companions, as we will relate later. The Boholans, due to their courage, maintained their respect for the faith. Thus, to punish so many heinous acts and to suppress the arrogance of the barbarians, we were left with no other resources than those from Samboangan, and no other allies than those people who had been our friends for just a few years.

Those of Ibabao aroused the utmost anxiety, their insolence continually calling us to arms; for, not content with atrocities in their own country, they went to disquiet another region. They even disturbed those who dwelt on the opposite coast of Samar, threatening them with ruin if they did not follow the lead of the others. Their attempts began to [107]be dangerous, since they stirred up the village of Paranas, which is only two leguas from the seat of our jurisdiction there—Catbalogan, where the alcalde-mayor resides; and in fact many fled to the mountains, without regard to the war which menaced them, when the Spaniards were placed under arms, two leguas from their abode. In the other villages [the natives] were in arms, and regarded us all with apprehension. At the outset, the alcalde-mayor was ready with such force as he could assemble—adventurers in the province, mestizos, and Indians; but, as the former were all collectors [of tribute] and the latter all relatives [of the insurgents], some were not accustomed to arms and the hardships of campaigning, and the others could not use weapons against those of their own blood. Accordingly this, instead of checking their fury, only rendered their boldness more insolent, and gave unwonted force to their arms; and men who before did not find enough woods in which to hide themselves from a Camucon ship, now went so far as to make daybreak assaults on our troops, and slew our men before our eyes. And as a final token of their contempt, when the captain demanded from them the head of Sumoroy, by way of atonement for what he had done, they sent down the river to him the head of a swine—although in the end, worn out, they considered it good luck that they could again secure peace.

Those from Ibabao caused a lot of concern, constantly provoking us; not satisfied with the violence in their own area, they went on to disturb another region. They even troubled those living on the opposite coast of Samar, threatening them with destruction if they didn’t follow the others. Their actions became more dangerous as they incited the village of Paranas, which is only two leagues from our administrative center in Catbalogan, where the alcalde-mayor is based. Many people fled to the mountains, ignoring the war that threatened them, when the Spaniards were mobilized just two leagues away from their homes. In other villages, the locals were armed and looked at us with suspicion. Initially, the alcalde-mayor gathered whatever forces he could—adventurers from the province, mestizos, and Indigenous people; however, since the former were all tax collectors and the latter were related to the insurgents, some weren’t used to fighting and the hardships of campaigns, while others couldn’t turn their weapons against their own kin. Consequently, rather than curbing their aggression, this only fueled their audacity and empowered their fight; men who once found it hard to hide from a Camucon ship now bravely launched dawn attacks on our troops, killing our men in front of us. As a final act of disrespect, when the captain demanded the head of Sumoroy as compensation for his actions, they sent him the head of a pig down the river—although ultimately, exhausted, they considered it fortunate that they could achieve peace once again.

[The authorities] in Manila, seeing that the revolt was continually gathering strength, and that the insolence of the insurgents was passing all bounds, recognized how important it was to repress it, undertaking its chastisement in earnest. For this purpose they despatched General Andres Lopez de [108]Azaldigui (who was chief of the royal galleys of these islands), with the title of lieutenant of the captain-general; and with this authority he levied many Spaniards, being empowered to obtain them from all the fortified posts. He made all the necessary arrangements for the enterprise, but he soon recognized the danger that he incurred among the natives—who all, regarding those of Palapag as restorers of their liberty, were rejoicing over their successes—and that in our reverses we had cause to fear them as enemies, since they were on the watch to know what fortune those of Palapag had in order to follow it if they were sure of the result. A large fleet of native boats was needed for the transportation of provisions and military supplies; but, the greater the number of these that were thus assembled, the more was the danger increased. On this account the general wrote to Manila, demanding galleys; and there, in order to avoid the expense of galleys and the perils of seas so rough, they despatched orders that the armada should come from Zamboangan—for the loyalty of those people against the Bisayans, as against their old-time enemies, could not be doubted. And with the support of these [auxiliaries] effective aid might be rendered by those of the inland provinces, which had been ruled without risk by the Spaniards because they did not go there entirely in the hands of the natives.

[The authorities] in Manila, seeing that the revolt was continuously gaining strength and that the boldness of the insurgents was going off the charts, realized how crucial it was to suppress it, and they got serious about punishing it. To this end, they sent General Andres Lopez de [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Azaldigui (who was in charge of the royal galleys of these islands) with the title of lieutenant of the captain-general. With this authority, he recruited many Spaniards, being authorized to gather them from all the fortified locations. He made all the necessary plans for the operation, but he quickly recognized the danger he faced among the natives—who all saw those from Palapag as liberators and were rejoicing over their successes—and that in our setbacks we had reason to fear them as enemies, since they were poised to see how the people from Palapag fared in order to follow their lead if they were confident of the outcome. A large fleet of native boats was needed for transporting provisions and military supplies; however, the more of these that were gathered, the greater the danger became. For this reason, the general wrote to Manila, requesting galleys; but to avoid the costs of galleys and the dangers of such rough seas, they sent orders for the armada to come from Zamboangan—since the loyalty of those people against the Bisayans, their old-time enemies, could not be questioned. And with the support of these [auxiliaries], effective help could be provided by those from the inland provinces, which had been governed safely by the Spaniards because they didn't fully fall into the hands of the natives.

The armada was despatched as promptly as possible by the commandant [of Zamboanga]. Sargento-mayor Pedro Duran, with two captains in active service—as chief, Captain Juan Muñoz, who was commander of the armada; and as second in command Captain Juan de Ulloa—with the most choice [109]and distinguished soldiers of the Lutaos. As leader of these, since he was the military chief of that people, was sent General Don Francisco Ugbo (whom I have previously mentioned), with the master-of-camp, sargento-mayor, and captains of the tribe, and as many as four hundred of its men. Father Francisco Martinez had then arrived at Samboangan, to act as rector of the new [Jesuit] college there—of which the official recognition from our father general came in this same year—a religious who deserved well of those Christian churches, for he had sustained them in their earliest infancy, having labored in the arduous beginnings of [the missions in] Joló and Samboangan. By this [departure of the Lutaos] Father Alexandro Lopez found his occupation gone, and was therefore able to embark with the armada, which needed his presence and aid, as it was going for so important an enterprise—on the fortunate result of which, as many thought, depended the fidelity of all the provinces of Pintados. All fortified themselves with the holy sacraments, as solicitously as Christians of very long standing could do; and, as if they were such, on all occasions which arose in the voyage and in the battle itself they made evident, by their reverence for their holy name [of Christians] and appreciation of the danger, how they felt these obligations in their hearts. The sargento-mayor of the tribe (who belonged to its highest nobility) encountered a temptation to his own perdition; but he put it behind him by saying that he was going to war, and could not at that time discuss a matter which would work injury to his soul.

The fleet was sent out as quickly as possible by the commandant of Zamboanga. Sargento-mayor Pedro Duran, along with two active service captains—Captain Juan Muñoz, who was the commander of the fleet, and Captain Juan de Ulloa, his second-in-command—headed out with the finest and most distinguished soldiers of the Lutaos. Leading them was General Don Francisco Ugbo (whom I have mentioned before), along with the master-of-camp, sargento-mayor, and captains of the tribe, along with around four hundred of their men. Father Francisco Martinez had just arrived in Samboangan to serve as the rector of the new Jesuit college there—officially recognized by our father general this same year—a religious figure who had been a great asset to the Christian churches, as he had supported them in their early days, working hard in the beginnings of the missions in Joló and Samboangan. With the departure of the Lutaos, Father Alexandro Lopez found himself without any duties and was therefore able to join the fleet, which needed his support and assistance for such an important mission—many believed its success was crucial for the loyalty of all the provinces of Pintados. Everyone fortified themselves with the holy sacraments as diligently as devout Christians could; and, as if they were seasoned believers, they demonstrated their reverence for their Christian identity and their awareness of the danger at every opportunity during the journey and the battle itself. The sargento-mayor of the tribe (who came from the highest nobility) faced a temptation that could lead to his downfall; however, he set it aside by reminding himself that he was going to war and couldn’t discuss anything that would harm his soul at that moment.

Great was the rejoicing which this armada caused in all the towns where it landed, notably in the city [110]of Cebú, where the Lutaos were known (and most of them, especially those who commanded the joangas, had the reputation of being pirates), at seeing them, now Christians, repair to the churches with so much devotion and attend divine worship with such reverence—those very people who had ravaged the islands with fire, and damaged nearly all the churches of Bisayas with their outrages and robberies; those who yesterday were enemies, but today bearing arms in our aid; and those who yesterday were cruel enemies to God, now the avengers of insults to Him. Tears sprang to [the eyes of] all, and they did not cease to give a thousand thanks to the fathers for their labors, so effectual—not only in the conversion of that Moro people, but for the benefit of these Christian communities, removing their terror and turning their dread and mistrust of the Moro arms into joy and expectation of success.

There was great joy in all the towns where this fleet landed, especially in the city [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] of Cebú. The Lutaos, known for their reputation as pirates—most of them, particularly those who commanded the joangas—were now seen going to churches with deep devotion and participating in worship with great respect. These were the same people who had once ravaged the islands with fire and damaged nearly all the churches in Bisayas through their violence and theft. Yesterday, they were enemies, but today they were bearing arms to help us. Those who once were cruel enemies of God had become the defenders against insults to Him. Tears filled everyone's eyes, and they continuously expressed their gratitude to the fathers for their efforts, which were so effective—not only in converting that Moro people but also in benefiting these Christian communities by removing their fear and transforming their dread and suspicion of Moro forces into joy and hope for success.

Arriving at Palapag by the month of May [i.e., in 1650], they found that the leader of the campaign was Captain Don Xinés de Roxas; and that it had been much retarded on account of the reputation which the men of Palapag had steadily gained by their daring acts. They had fortified themselves on a height which was regarded as impregnable by nature, as only one path was known by which it could be ascended, and that very narrow and difficult. On this path the enemy had built fortifications, and from loopholes therein they did much damage to our men, without risk [to themselves]; they lost no opportunity to fall suddenly on our troops, and any man who strayed from the rest paid the penalty with his life, so sharply did they note any negligence on our part; and, as masters of the land, they boldly engaged us, [111]secure from being pursued. The captain wearied himself much with various fortifications, and kept the men exhausted; and he engaged in the same fatiguing labor those of the armada, until the sargento-mayor of that tribe, Don Alonso Maconbon, was bold enough to ask him, face to face, why he was wearing out the men in work which was not important.

Arriving in Palapag in May [i.e., in 1650], they discovered that the campaign was led by Captain Don Xinés de Roxas, and it had been significantly delayed due to the strong reputation the people of Palapag had earned through their bold actions. They had built fortifications on a height that was considered naturally impregnable, as there was only one narrow and challenging path leading up to it. Along this path, the enemy had constructed defenses, and from the loopholes in those defenses, they inflicted considerable damage on our men without putting themselves at risk. They seized every chance to ambush our troops, and any soldier who strayed from the group faced death, as they were quick to exploit any carelessness on our part; as masters of the territory, they boldly confronted us, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]confident that they could not be pursued. The captain worked tirelessly on various fortifications, leaving the men exhausted; he also involved the crew of the armada in this exhausting labor, until the sargento-mayor of that tribe, Don Alonso Maconbon, bravely confronted him, asking why he was wearing out the men with work that wasn’t necessary.

He told the captain that they had not come to haul logs, but to fight in battle, and that he must contrive to employ them in fighting; for, if he did not, they would go back to their homes. At seeing the daring of this man, and the angry words that the soldiers of Samboangan—who, as veterans, were eager to have an opportunity for distinguishing themselves—flung at him, although he resented their lack of respect he was rejoiced to see their courage; and he was encouraged to make the assault, which, with the coxcombs and foppish adventurers from Manila, seemed a dangerous enterprise. And, as those of the armada, it seems, were boasting most of their valor, he assigned them to the brunt of the battle, in order thus to employ their courage in carrying out their own advice.

He told the captain that they hadn't come to haul logs, but to fight in a battle, and he needed to find a way to get them involved in the fighting; otherwise, they'd return home. Seeing the boldness of this man and the furious remarks thrown at him by the soldiers from Samboangan—who, being veterans, were eager for a chance to prove themselves—made him a little angry, but he was pleased to see their bravery. This encouraged him to launch the attack, which, with the flashy and pretentious adventurers from Manila, seemed like a risky venture. Since those in the armada were boasting the most about their bravery, he assigned them to take the lead in the battle to make good on their own words.

He made ready, then, the infantry of the armada, with the Lutaos, for a day that he set for the assault, which they were obliged to make over a precipitous ascent, exceedingly dangerous—so that they could make their way up it only by giving their weapons and their hands to each other.18 At nightfall they [112]reached the slope, and in the darkness of the night proceeded to ascend it. The enemy had their sentinels, but our Lord easily diverted their attention by sending a heavy shower of rain—which our men regarded as a misfortune, which made the enterprise more difficult and the ascent all the more dangerous. But it was altogether fortunate for the expedition; for the pass was so difficult that the sentinel alone could defend it against a thousand assailants, and the most feeble old man was sufficient for guarding it, especially if the danger [from an attack] were known to the insurgents, who had given all their attention to the troop of the commander Don Xinés. The time while the rain fell was enough to enable all the soldiers to reach the top without danger; and so careful were the men that not one of them had his match extinguished. They halted there, waiting for the daylight; and when the rain gave opportunity to the sentinel he came back, waving a torch in order to light his path. Our men could have slain him; but they let him go, so as not to raise an alarm. Either because he heard their voices, or saw some lighted match, he waited a little while, and then returned to inform the rest of it; and the troops, seeing that they were discovered, marched toward the fortifications. So quickly they reached them that the enemy at once took to flight; our men pursued them with their arms, but the enemy quickly escaped, by dangerous precipices and paths which they know well. But the Spaniards did not choose to divert much of their attention [to the fugitives], rather taking care to occupy promptly their Rochelle;19 accordingly, they [113]erected their fortifications, and occupied them with their artillery, supplies, and weapons. From that place they sent for the commander, Captain Don Xinés de Roxas, who went up to take possession of the gains made by the arduous efforts and daring bravery of the men of Samboangan. In this enterprise Captain Francisco de Leyba, then commander of the Samboangan armada, and Captain Silvestre de Rodas, an old soldier of Terrenate, especially distinguished themselves.

He prepared the infantry of the armada, along with the Lutaos, for a day he planned for the attack, which they had to carry out over a steep and very dangerous ascent—so they could only manage it by passing their weapons and hands to one another. At nightfall they [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] reached the slope and began to climb it in the darkness. The enemy had their sentinels, but our Lord easily distracted them by sending a heavy downpour—something our men saw as a misfortune that made the mission tougher and the ascent even more perilous. But it turned out to be a blessing for the expedition; the pass was so tough that a single sentinel could defend it against a thousand attackers, and even an elderly man could guard it, especially since the insurgents were focused on Commander Don Xinés's troop. The time it rained allowed all the soldiers to reach the top safely; they were so careful that none of their matches went out. They paused there, waiting for daylight, and when the rain gave the sentinel a chance, he returned, waving a torch to light his way. Our men could have killed him, but they let him go to avoid raising an alarm. Either because he heard them talking or saw a light, he waited a moment and then went back to inform the others; and when the troops saw they were discovered, they moved toward the fortifications. They reached them so quickly that the enemy immediately fled; our men chased them with their weapons, but the enemy quickly escaped over dangerous cliffs and paths they knew well. The Spaniards didn’t want to focus too much on the fleeing enemies; instead, they promptly set about occupying their Rochelle; 19 so they [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] built their fortifications and stocked them with their artillery, supplies, and weapons. From there, they called for their commander, Captain Don Xinés de Roxas, who went up to claim the rewards of the hard work and brave efforts of the men of Samboangan. In this operation, Captain Francisco de Leyba, then commander of the Samboangan armada, and Captain Silvestre de Rodas, an experienced soldier from Terrenate, particularly distinguished themselves.

The Lutaos dispersed through the place, and, breaking into a house, found the mother of the traitor and parricide Sumoroy; and they dragged her out and tore her to pieces. Sumoroy had been sent down [from their stronghold] the day before, secretly, in a hammock, and all the children and women the rebels had already placed in safety; for, from the day when they saw the Samboangan armada, they felt that their cause was lost, and, lacking confidence in the outcome, they forestalled the danger. Thus was ended this longed-for enterprise, and the war in Ibabao; for the natives, now disarmed and divided, would have no courage left, save for flight, and the hardships of a life so full of fear [as that of fugitives] would oblige them to surrender, one by one—as was actually the case. Accordingly, the armada [and its men] took their departure, leaving the islands thankful for what they had accomplished and edified by their good example. For in the heat of conflict and in dangerous encounters (which is the time when the natural disposition and the inner soul are displayed), those soldiers did not fail to invoke the sweet names of Jesus and Mary, without ceasing or neglecting this in the utmost confusion [114]and ardor of battle, giving pious examples to the Christian soldiery—to the admiration of the natives, [although they were] accustomed to these [pious] observances; since the clamorous efforts [of the soldiers], and solicitude for their danger, disturb the piety of even the oldest veterans.

The Lutaos scattered throughout the area, and when they broke into a house, they found the mother of the traitor and murderer Sumoroy; they dragged her out and tore her apart. Sumoroy had been secretly sent down [from their stronghold] the day before, in a hammock, and all the children and women had already been taken to safety by the rebels; for when they saw the Samboangan armada, they realized their cause was lost and, lacking confidence in the outcome, they acted to prevent the danger. Thus ended this long-awaited campaign and the war in Ibabao; the natives, now disarmed and divided, had lost all courage, except for fleeing, and the struggles of a life filled with fear [as fugitives] forced them to surrender one by one—as indeed happened. Consequently, the armada [and its men] left, with the islands grateful for what they had achieved and inspired by their good example. In the heat of conflict and during dangerous encounters (the moments when one’s true character and inner self are revealed), those soldiers consistently invoked the sweet names of Jesus and Mary, never ceasing to do so even amidst the chaos [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] and fervor of battle, setting a pious example for the Christian troops—much to the admiration of the natives, [even though they were] used to these [pious] practices; since the urgent efforts [of the soldiers], along with their concern for their own safety, could shake the piety of even the most seasoned veterans.

[We append to this the following account from Diaz’s Conquistas (pp. 517–523), as being more detailed and furnishing a somewhat different light on various incidents of the insurrection. In order to place it in the present document, as belonging to this special subject, it has been removed from its place in Diaz’s history of his order and its missions (see VOL. XXXVII, pp. 149–284).]

[We add the following account from Diaz’s Conquistas (pp. 517–523), as it provides more detail and offers a somewhat different perspective on various incidents of the insurrection. To include it in this document, relevant to this specific subject, it has been taken from its original position in Diaz’s history of his order and its missions (see VOL. 37, pp. 149–284).]

There was an Indian named Sumoroy in the village of Palapag, who was regarded as one of the best, although he was one of the very worst, and was as evil as his father—who, accredited with the same hypocrisy, was a babaylán and priest of the devil, and made the other Indians apostatize. He was greatly addicted to drunkenness, and he had so promoted it [in others] that all the village was contaminated with this vice, as well as that of lust—vices so closely allied to idolatry, of which truth there are many examples in Holy Writ. The inhabitants of Palapag were corrupted by those evil habits at the time when Governor Don Diego Fajardo—with the intention of relieving the near-by provinces of Tagalos and Pampanga from the burden of working, at the harbor of Cavite, in the building of galleons and vessels necessary for the conservation and defense of these islands—had ordered the alcaldes of Leite and other provinces to send men thence to [115]Cavite for that employment. That was a difficult undertaking, because of the distance of more than one hundred leguas, and the troubles and wrongs to the said Indians that would result from their leaving their homes for so long a time. The father ministers went to the alcaldes, and the latter to Manila, to represent those troubles and wrongs; but the only thing that they obtained was a more stringent order to execute the mandate without more reply. Consequently they could do nothing else than obey the orders of the superior government, although they feared what very soon occurred. But what good end could so mistaken and pernicious a decision have?

There was a man named Sumoroy in the village of Palapag, who was seen as one of the best, even though he was actually one of the worst, just as evil as his father—who was known for the same hypocrisy, acting as a babaylán and a priest of the devil, leading other Indians to abandon their faith. He was heavily into drinking, having encouraged it in others to the point that the entire village was plagued by this vice, along with lust—vices that are so closely tied to idolatry, as shown in many examples from the Bible. The people of Palapag were corrupted by these bad habits at the time when Governor Don Diego Fajardo, aiming to relieve the nearby provinces of Tagalos and Pampanga from the burden of labor at the Cavite harbor—where galleons and vessels essential for the protection and maintenance of these islands were being built—had ordered the alcaldes of Leite and other provinces to send men to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] Cavite for that work. That was a tough task due to the distance of over one hundred leguas and the hardships and injustices that would occur for the Indians from leaving their homes for such an extended period. The local priests approached the alcaldes, who then went to Manila to voice these issues; but all they got in return was an even stricter order to carry out the mandate without any further discussion. As a result, they could only comply with the orders from the higher government, although they were apprehensive about what would soon happen. But what positive outcome could come from such a misguided and harmful decision?

As soon as the inhabitants of Palapag saw that the alcaldes-mayor were beginning to collect men to send them to the harbor of Cavite, they began to go oftener to the meetings in the house of Sumoroy and his father, and to begin (when heated with wine, the ordinary counselor of the Indians) to organize their insurrection. They quickly appointed leaders, of whom the chief was Don Juan Ponce, a very influential man and a bad Christian, but married to a wife from a chief’s family in the village of Catubig; she was very different from him in her morals, for she was very virtuous. The second leader was one Don Pedro Caamug, and the third the above-named Sumoroy. Then they discussed the murder of the father minister, Miguel Ponce of the Society of Jesus, an Aragonese,20 at the suggestion of that malignant [116]sorcerer and priest of the devil, the father of Sumoroy, who charged that undertaking upon his son. On Tuesday evening, the first of June, 1649, he went to the house of the father, who had just eaten his dinner, and was ascending a narrow ladder to his house. Sumoroy awaited him at that place, and hurling his lance, pierced his breast from side to side, and left him dead, without more time than to say “Jesus, Mary.” They spared the life of Father Julio Aleni,21 a Roman, saying that he was not their minister, but was dedicated to China, whence is inferred their motive in killing the [former] father. Next day they despoiled the house and church of its furniture and holy ornaments; profaned the altars and sacred images; scattered the holy oils; and used the silver chrismatories for the ajonjolí oil with which they anoint their hair.

As soon as the people of Palapag saw that the alcaldes-mayor were starting to gather men to send to the harbor of Cavite, they began to attend the meetings at Sumoroy and his father’s house more frequently. Fueled by wine, the usual counsel for the Indians, they started to plan their uprising. They quickly selected leaders, with Don Juan Ponce as the chief. He was a powerful man and not a good Christian, but he was married to a woman from a chief's family in the village of Catubig, who was very different from him in morals—she was quite virtuous. The second leader was Don Pedro Caamug, and the third was Sumoroy himself. They then talked about murdering the father minister, Miguel Ponce of the Society of Jesus, an Aragonese, based on the suggestion of that wicked sorcerer and devil priest, Sumoroy's father, who urged this plan on his son. On Tuesday evening, June 1, 1649, he went to the father's house, who had just finished dinner and was climbing a narrow ladder to his home. Sumoroy was waiting for him there and threw his lance, piercing him through the chest and killing him instantly, leaving him only enough time to say “Jesus, Mary.” They spared Father Julio Aleni, a Roman, claiming he wasn't their minister since he was assigned to China, which hints at their motive for killing the former father. The next day, they looted the house and church of its furniture and holy decorations; they desecrated the altars and sacred images; scattered the holy oils; and used the silver chrismatories to hold the ajonjolí oil they used to anoint their hair.

It was the will of divine Providence to show forth the devout fidelity of the women amid the infidelity [117]and apostasy of the men; for, the day before that spoliation, Doña Angelina Dinagungan, wife of Don Juan Ponce, accompanied by another good Christian woman, Doña María Malón, went to the church and saved some holy images and ornaments, besides a chest belonging to the father, with the little that it contained, which they afterward surrendered to him. Among the images that that devout woman saved from the sacrilegious hands of the rebels was an image of our Lady of the Conception, which was kept with great propriety in the house of Doña María Malón, and which was often seen to sweat abundantly and to shed tears, a miracle which spread throughout the village. When the perfidious Sumoroy heard of it, he said: “The Virgin Mary is weeping. Let us see if she will weep if we burn the house;” and he went thither, with other men like himself, and set fire to it. But Divine Clemency did not permit the fire to catch in that house, although it was of bamboo and nipa like the others. The husband of Doña María Malón, called Don Gabriel Hongpón, was a head man [cabeza de barangay]; and only he and all his people remained faithful to God and to their king. God gave him courage to resist so many, who always respected him as he was so influential a man in that village of Palapag.

It was the will of divine Providence to highlight the devoted loyalty of the women amidst the betrayal and desertion of the men; for, the day before that pillaging, Doña Angelina Dinagungan, the wife of Don Juan Ponce, along with another good Christian woman, Doña María Malón, went to the church and saved some holy images and ornaments, along with a chest belonging to the father, along with its contents, which they later returned to him. Among the images that this devoted woman rescued from the sacrilegious hands of the rebels was an image of Our Lady of the Conception, which was kept with great care in Doña María Malón's house, and which was often seen to sweat abundantly and shed tears, a miracle that became known throughout the village. When the treacherous Sumoroy heard of it, he said: “The Virgin Mary is weeping. Let’s see if she will still weep if we burn the house;” and he went there, along with other men like himself, and set fire to it. But divine mercy did not allow the fire to spread in that house, even though it was made of bamboo and nipa like the others. The husband of Doña María Malón, named Don Gabriel Hongpón, was a headman [cabeza de barangay]; and only he and all his people remained faithful to God and their king. God gave him the courage to stand firm against many, as he was greatly respected as a prominent man in that village of Palapag.

The insurgents incited the inhabitants of Catubig, who also revolted. They killed a Spaniard, and burned the church and house of the father minister, after having sacked it. The contagion having spread to other villages, the people did the same at Pambohan, or Bayugo, Catarman, and Bonan; and thence passed to infect the provinces of Ibalón22 and [118]Camarines, where they killed a Franciscan religious, the guardian of Sorsogón. They killed Alférez Torres in Masbate. In Caraga, the inhabitants of the village of Tinao revolted and killed their minister, a discalced Augustinian, and a few Spanish soldiers of a small presidio established there, the rest escaping the fury of the insurgents. In Iligán, the village of Cagayán, a mission of our discalced religious, revolted. In the adjacent island of Camiguín, a mission of the same religious, they bound their minister and set their feet on his neck. The Subanos mutinied in the jurisdiction of Zamboanga, in the village called Siocon, where they killed Father Juan del Campo23 of the Society of Jesus. The villages of the islands of Cebú and Bohol, who are warlike people, were wavering in their loyalty. But Divine Clemency did not permit them to declare themselves. Thus with the patience and tolerance of the father ministers, who suffered many hardships and found themselves in great danger, those fires—which could have consumed the loyalty of the provinces of these islands—were soon extinguished. The first village to rebel in the island of Leite was Bacor, where the church and house of the father minister were burned, and the people joined the inhabitants of Palapag, leaving the village deserted. The insurgents pretended that two Dutch ships were [119]near, which were coming to aid them as equals in their rebellion against the Church and the vassalage due to their lawful king; and that pretense greatly aided them in their evil design.

The insurgents stirred up the people of Catubig, who also revolted. They killed a Spaniard and burned down the church and the house of the father minister after looting it. The unrest spread to other villages, and the people did the same in Pambohan, or Bayugo, Catarman, and Bonan; and then it spread to the provinces of Ibalón22 and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Camarines, where they killed a Franciscan priest, the guardian of Sorsogón. They also killed Alférez Torres in Masbate. In Caraga, the residents of the village of Tinao revolted and killed their minister, a discalced Augustinian, along with a few Spanish soldiers from a small presidio there, while the rest managed to escape the wrath of the insurgents. In Iligán, the village of Cagayán, a mission run by our discalced religious, also rebelled. On the nearby island of Camiguín, part of the same mission, they bound their minister and walked on his neck. The Subanos revolted in the Zamboanga region, in a village called Siocon, where they killed Father Juan del Campo23 of the Society of Jesus. The villages on the islands of Cebú and Bohol, who are known for being fierce, wavered in their loyalty. But Divine Clemency didn’t allow them to openly rebel. Thanks to the patience and resilience of the father ministers, who endured many hardships and were in great danger, those fires—which could have destroyed the loyalty of the provinces in these islands—were quickly put out. The first village to rebel on the island of Leite was Bacor, where the church and house of the father minister were burned, and the people joined forces with the residents of Palapag, leaving the village abandoned. The insurgents claimed that two Dutch ships were [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] nearby, coming to support them as equals in their rebellion against the Church and the loyalty owed to their rightful king; and that falsehood greatly aided them in their malicious plans.

As soon as the alcalde-mayor of Leite heard of the insurrection, he collected all the boats and men possible, but these were very fragile means to oppose to so vast a multitude of insurgent and desperate men. Consequently, although they went to Palapag with the said alcalde-mayor, one Captain Don Juan Gómez de tres Palacios y Estrado, they served no other purpose than to make the rebellion worse, and to encourage the enemy. The latter intrenched themselves on an impregnable hill called “the table of Palapag;” and what is the greatest cause for surprise is that a Spaniard called Pedro Zapata, who had married an Indian woman in Palapag (who must have perverted him), went with them. But the insurgents gave him his pay by killing him, in order to take away the woman, a worthy reward for his incredible treason. They made trenches and strong stockades, with many sharp stakes and snares, and many stone boulders suspended, which, by being thrown upon the strongest army, would cause cruel injury. To work greater harm, they gave command of their men to Don Pedro Caamug, who descended the hill with two hundred insurgents and returned to the village of Palapag, where he killed the father minister, Vicente Damián,24 and two boys who were [120]serving him, who in their fear were clinging to the father. They again burned the church, a chamber of nipa and bamboo which Don Gabriel and his faithful followers had erected for the celebration of mass, furnishing this additional bond to their apostasy and rebellion. They returned to their impregnable hill after this, which was in their eyes a great victory, and began to fortify themselves much more strongly than they were, as they feared the war that was expected from Manila.

As soon as the mayor of Leite heard about the uprising, he gathered as many boats and men as he could, but they were too weak to fight against such a huge group of desperate insurgents. So, even though they went to Palapag with this mayor, Captain Don Juan Gómez de tres Palacios y Estrado, they only made the rebellion worse and encouraged the enemy. The insurgents dug in on an impenetrable hill called "the table of Palapag," and the most surprising part was that a Spaniard named Pedro Zapata, who had married an Indian woman in Palapag (who must have influenced him), joined them. However, the insurgents repaid him by killing him in order to take his wife, a fitting reward for his incredible betrayal. They built trenches and strong barricades with sharp stakes and snares, along with heavy boulders ready to be dropped on even the strongest army, causing serious injuries. To cause even more damage, they put Don Pedro Caamug in charge of their men, and he descended the hill with two hundred insurgents, returning to the village of Palapag, where he killed the father priest, Vicente Damián, and two boys who were helping him, clinging to him in fear. They also burned the church, a nipa and bamboo chamber that Don Gabriel and his loyal followers had built for mass, further solidifying their betrayal and rebellion. Afterward, they returned to their impenetrable hill, seeing it as a major victory, and began to strengthen their defenses even more, fearing the battle that was expected to come from Manila.

Governor Don Diego Fajardo, seeing that the undertaking of the reduction of the inhabitants of Palapag was an affair requiring much care and consideration, because of the evil effects that would result from any unfavorable event, after holding a council of war determined to entrust this undertaking to the commander of the galleys, Andrés López de Asaldigui (already named on many occasions), as he had all the good qualities which can form a good soldier; for he was very brave and prudent, fortunate in the enterprises that had been entrusted to him, and a prime favorite with the soldiers because of his great liberality. That commander left Manila with the best men whom he could enlist, both Spaniards and Pampangos, and went to Catbalogan, the capital of that province, where he mustered thirteen oared vessels and two champans. His first order was to send some vessels to Panay and Iloilo for food. Well informed of the condition of the rebels of Palapag, he found that he needed more war-supplies for that conquest; for the insurgents had extended their revolt [121]to many villages of the island, and the other neighboring islands were apparently prepared to follow their bold acts, if they were at all fortunate. Therefore Andrés López de Asaldegui sent to ask the governor for the galleys in his charge; but the latter did not send them, in order to avoid the expense that would be caused the royal treasury, which was very needy. But he sent order instead that the fleet of Zamboanga should be at his disposal.

Governor Don Diego Fajardo recognized that the task of relocating the people of Palapag required careful thought because negative consequences could arise from any misstep. After a war council, he decided to hand this responsibility over to the commander of the galleys, Andrés López de Asaldigui (mentioned on several occasions), since he possessed all the qualities of a good soldier: he was brave, wise, had good fortune in the missions assigned to him, and was highly regarded by the troops due to his generosity. That commander departed from Manila with the best recruits he could find, both Spaniards and Pampangos, and headed to Catbalogan, the capital of that province, where he assembled thirteen oared vessels and two champans. His first order was to send some vessels to Panay and Iloilo for supplies. Having a clear understanding of the situation with the rebels in Palapag, he realized he needed more war supplies for that campaign; the insurgents had expanded their revolt to many villages on the island, and neighboring islands seemed ready to join if they were successful. Therefore, Andrés López de Asaldigui requested the governor to send the galleys under his command, but the governor did not send them to avoid straining the royal treasury, which was in dire need. Instead, he ordered that the fleet from Zamboanga be made available to him.

[At this juncture, Asaldigui is summoned by the governor to investigate the loss of the galleon “Encarnación,” and “entrusting the Palapag enterprise to Captain Ginés de Rojas—a brave soldier, but one who had little reputation and affection among the soldiers, who regretted that order exceedingly, and would have returned home had they been able. To such an extent does the reputation of the leader further any enterprise.”]

[At this point, the governor calls on Asaldigui to look into the loss of the galleon “Encarnación,” while “assigning the Palapag mission to Captain Ginés de Rojas—a brave soldier, but one who didn’t have much of a reputation or regard among the soldiers, who deeply regretted that decision and would have gone home if they could. The reputation of the leader really impacts any mission.]

Don Ginés de Rojas assembled the thirteen oared vessels and the two champans, in the latter of which he stowed the food. Likewise the fleet of Zamboanga came up with four caracoas and some Spaniards, and four hundred Lutaos; these are Indians of that region who have been recently converted to our holy faith from the errors of the cursed sect of Mahomet, by the efforts and toil of the religious of the Society. Their commandant was their master-of-camp Don Francisco Ugbo, a Lutao, and a brave man; and their sargento-mayor Don Alonso Macobo, of the same nation. The chief commander of that fleet was Captain Juan Muñoz, the admiral was Juan de Ulloa, and the captain was Suárez, who were veteran soldiers. In addition to that succor there came from Cebú Captain Don Francisco de Sandoval and Juan [122]Fernández de León, who brought many men from Sialo, Caraga, and other provinces. When all those forces were assembled in Catbalogan, Don Ginés de Rojas divided them into three divisions, two under command of Sandoval and León, and the third in his own charge. He ordered Captain Sandoval to go to his encomienda at Catubig, and thence, with all the men whom he could assemble, to go to reduce the village of Palapag. Captain León was ordered to go with his men through Tubig, Sulat, Borongán, and other villages—first, however, to go to Guigán, to get as many men there as possible. Don Ginés de Rojas chose the villages of Catarmán and Bobor, where his encomienda lay.

Don Ginés de Rojas gathered the thirteen rowed boats and the two champans, where he stored the food. Meanwhile, the fleet from Zamboanga arrived with four caracoas, some Spaniards, and four hundred Lutaos. These Lutaos are indigenous people from that area who have recently converted to our faith, moving away from the wrong beliefs of the cursed sect of Mahomet, thanks to the hard work of the religious order. Their leader was their master-of-camp, Don Francisco Ugbo, a Lutao and a brave man; and their sargento-mayor was Don Alonso Macobo, also from the same nation. The overall commander of that fleet was Captain Juan Muñoz, the admiral was Juan de Ulloa, and the captain was Suárez, all of whom were experienced soldiers. In addition to that help, Captain Don Francisco de Sandoval and Juan [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Fernández de León came from Cebú with many men from Sialo, Caraga, and other provinces. Once all those forces were gathered in Catbalogan, Don Ginés de Rojas split them into three divisions, two led by Sandoval and León, and the third under his own command. He instructed Captain Sandoval to head to his encomienda at Catubig and then, with as many men as he could gather, to go to take the village of Palapag. Captain León was ordered to take his men through Tubig, Sulat, Borongán, and other villages—first stopping at Guigán to recruit as many men as possible. Don Ginés de Rojas selected the villages of Catarmán and Bobor, where his encomienda was located.

All things were ready to undertake the conquest of the impregnable hill. Nothing worthy of note happened to Captain Don Francisco de Sandoval, but the Indians of Bacor prepared an ambush against Juan Fernández de León in a very dangerous pass. Juan de León de Paranas had gone out, embarking in the river of Nasán, which is very rapid because of its great current—and among other dangerous places is one more dangerous than all, namely, a fall and cataract which is two spear-lengths in height. Consequently, in order to proceed, one must unlade the boats; and, after raising them with great toil by means of certain very thick and strong rattans, must, after suspending or letting the boat down thus, again lade it. There did the enemy set their ambush for Juan de León, but it was disclosed by a friendly Indian. Our men firing their muskets and arquebuses at that side, the Indians fled with great loss; and our men proceeded to the bar of the river, where they fortified themselves in a stout stockade. [123]Sandoval did the same in Catubig, as did Don Silvestre de Rodas, whom Don Ginés sent as a reënforcement to Sandoval.

Everything was set to take on the seemingly impossible hill. Nothing significant happened to Captain Don Francisco de Sandoval, but the Bacor Indians were preparing an ambush for Juan Fernández de León in a very treacherous spot. Juan de León de Paranas had gone out, navigating the fast-flowing Nasán River, which is particularly dangerous due to a waterfall that's two spear-lengths high. To go further, they had to unload the boats; after a lot of struggle using thick, strong rattans to lift them, they had to reload again. This was where the enemy laid their trap for Juan de León, but a friendly Indian revealed it. Our men fired their muskets and arquebuses in that direction, causing the Indians to flee with heavy losses. Our men then moved to the river's bar, where they fortified themselves with a strong stockade. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] Sandoval did the same in Catubig, as did Don Silvestre de Rodas, whom Don Ginés sent as a reinforcement to Sandoval.

Those leaders, having arranged matters in this manner, continued to invite and pacify the many Indians who presented themselves. But those who were entrenched on the hill, confident in their fortress and defense, persisted obstinately in their revolt, and tried to get the other villages not to declare in our favor. Don Ginés fortified his post, and ordered each captain to do the same with his, for he had resolved to blockade and capture the natives on the hill by hunger. The natives learned from their spies that Don Ginés had but few men in his quarters, as the rest had gone to get provisions; and, having determined to use so favorable an opportunity, many of them went at night, by the river, near the land. When they thought that our men were very careless and sound asleep, they pulled some stakes out of the fortification of Don Ginés, and entered in a disorderly mob. But the sentinels hearing the noise, sounded the alarm. Don Ginés, awaking, seized his sword and buckler; and, accompanied by those who could follow him so hastily, confronted the enemy, and drove them to flight with great loss—as was judged from the abundance of blood that was seen in the camp in the morning. But it was not without any harm to our men, some of whom were wounded, although no one died. One ball struck Sumoroy on the shoulder, but only one dead man was left in the camp; for our opponents dragged the others away and threw them into the water. Don Ginés did not care to pursue them, fearing some ambush, which would have been easy in that darkness. [124]

Those leaders, having set things up this way, continued to invite and soothe the many Indians who came forward. However, those who were fortified on the hill, confident in their stronghold and defenses, stubbornly continued their rebellion and tried to persuade the other villages not to support us. Don Ginés strengthened his position and ordered each captain to do the same with theirs, as he had decided to besiege and capture the natives on the hill by starving them out. The natives learned from their spies that Don Ginés had only a few men with him while the others had gone to gather supplies. Seizing this favorable opportunity, many of them snuck around at night by the river, close to the land. When they thought our men were very negligent and sound asleep, they pulled some stakes out of Don Ginés's fortifications and rushed in as a chaotic mob. But the sentries heard the noise and raised the alarm. Don Ginés, waking up, grabbed his sword and shield and, along with those who could follow him quickly, confronted the enemy and drove them away with significant losses—as evidenced by the amount of blood seen in the camp in the morning. However, it wasn't without cost to our men; some were wounded, though no one died. One bullet hit Sumoroy on the shoulder, but only one dead body was left in the camp; our enemies dragged the others away and tossed them into the water. Don Ginés chose not to chase after them, fearing a possible ambush, which would have been easy in that darkness. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The soldiers grumbled much at the great caution and prudence of Don Ginés de Rojas, who thought only of strengthening his fortifications, to the great labor of those who now desired to busy themselves with the enemy, and not the trees of the forest. That rose to such a pitch that the sargento-mayor of the Lutaos, Don Francisco Macombo, went to Don Ginés impatiently, and told him that neither he nor his men had come from Zamboanga to cut timber but to fight with the enemies of Palapag. Don Ginés was not displeased to see the willingness of his soldiers to fight, and therefore, in order to employ it, he had the men called to arms, and arranged the attack. He formed two divisions [for attack] from the whole army, and left the third to guard the camp. The assault was made in two parts—one by the open road, although it was better defended by the opponents; and the other by a precipitous path which was passable for the birds alone—for it was a huge steep rock, and so narrow at the place where the camp of the insurgents was established that only a single man could enter an opening made by nature—a place called for that reason by the natives, in their own language, “the eye of a needle.” The men climbed up by that path, using feet and hands without carrying their arms; for these were carried by him who followed, and afterward given to him who was ahead; and so they did one with another. In addition to that, the insurgents had posted a sentinel there to advise them of any new move, for which a few coming to his aid would be sufficient to prevent many from effecting an entrance.

The soldiers complained a lot about the extreme caution and carefulness of Don Ginés de Rojas, who was only focused on reinforcing his fortifications, much to the annoyance of those who now wanted to engage with the enemy instead of dealing with the trees in the forest. This frustration grew to the point where the sergeant major of the Lutaos, Don Francisco Macombo, approached Don Ginés impatiently and told him that neither he nor his men had come from Zamboanga to chop wood but to fight the enemies of Palapag. Don Ginés was actually pleased to see his soldiers eager to fight, so to take advantage of this, he called the men to arms and organized the attack. He divided the entire army into two groups for the assault and left a third to protect the camp. The attack was launched in two parts—one via the main road, even though it was better defended by the enemy, and the other via a steep path that was only passable for birds, as it was a huge steep rock, and so narrow at the spot where the insurgents had set up camp that only one person could fit through a natural opening, which the locals referred to as “the eye of a needle.” The men climbed up that path using both hands and feet without carrying their weapons; instead, these were passed along between them, with the one behind bringing them to the one ahead. Additionally, the insurgents had stationed a lookout there to alert them of any movements, as just a few reinforcements would be enough to stop many from gaining entry.

Don Ginés entrusted that difficult undertaking to Captain Silvestre de Rodas, a native of Rota, and a [125]soldier of great renown in his time, of whom are recounted incredible exploits performed by him in Ternate. He gave him command of the Lutao soldiers, with their commander Don Francisco Macombo; for himself Don Ginés took the battalion of the soldiers who attacked the hill in front. The vanguard and rearguard were placed in command of Captains Sandoval and Juan Fernández de León. The assault being planned in that form, Don Ginés engaged the enemy with his men, with great valor, to the sound of drums and trumpets, and went up the hill with great difficulty and danger. For the insurgents, cutting the rattans by which the stones and very large trunks of trees were fastened and kept back, would have been able by rolling them down to do great damage to our men, had not divine Providence directed these missiles to places where they could do no damage. Our men went up most of the hill with this obstinacy, and the enemy went out to meet them with so great valor that it seemed rather desperation; and the damage inflicted upon them by our arquebuses did not cool their obstinacy, for they tried to throw themselves on our spears and swords in their anxiety to die while killing [others]. The great advantage of the fortress of the hill increased their courage, as it could have caused great loss to our men to fight in the open and unsheltered. The fight lasted many hours, the enemy often being relieved, for they had many brave and well-armed men on the hill. Don Ginés de Rojas, seeing that the fury of the enemy was invincible (for they were fighting more like lions than like men), and that his men could not proceed with the undertaking, because they had no further strength and were tired, [126]and had many wounded, yielded for the time being, and sounded the retreat, leaving more vigorous experience for another day. The enemy also retired, satisfied at the resistance that they had shown, although much to their cost.

Don Ginés handed that tough task to Captain Silvestre de Rodas, a guy from Rota and a [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]soldier who was well-known in his day, known for incredible feats he accomplished in Ternate. He put him in charge of the Lutao soldiers, alongside their leader Don Francisco Macombo; Don Ginés took command of the battalion of soldiers attacking the hill directly. Captain Sandoval and Juan Fernández de León were placed in charge of the vanguard and rearguard. With this plan set, Don Ginés led his men into battle against the enemy with great bravery, accompanied by drums and trumpets, and faced the uphill climb with significant risk and hardship. The insurgents were cutting the ropes that held back heavy stones and massive tree trunks, which, if rolled down, could have caused severe damage to our men, had it not been for divine intervention directing those projectiles to harmless spots. Our troops climbed most of the hill with determination, while the enemy confronted them with such valor that it felt more like desperation; the damage dealt to them by our arquebuses didn't dampen their resolve, as they rushed towards our spears and swords eager to die while taking others with them. The strategic advantage of the fortress on the hill boosted their morale, as fighting in the open could have been catastrophic for our forces. The battle lasted several hours, with the enemy often being reinforced by their many brave and well-armed men on the hill. Seeing that the enemy’s ferocity was unyielding (they fought more like lions than men), and realizing his men were exhausted and struggling to continue the fight with many wounded, Don Ginés de Rojas decided to retreat for the time being, planning to return with more strength another day. The enemy, satisfied with their resistance despite the heavy cost, also pulled back.

Very different was the success of the brave Silvestre de Rodas, with his Lutaos in charge of Don Francisco Ugbo and Don Alonso Macombo, who on the second of July, 1650, made the assault in the most difficult point—which was the eye of the needle in the rock, as we have stated above, through which Silvestre de Rodas was the first to go. He chose the silence of the night, a time when they were least likely to be discovered. Climbing up one by one and without arms, with the labor that was necessary, at the middle of the ascent an obstacle occurred that could have blocked so great an enterprise. That was a very heavy rain, which lasted a great part of the night, and which the men endured without the slightest shelter, but with great vigilance and care that fire for their matches should not be lacking—availing themselves for that purpose of the shields of the Lutaos, which are called carazas, and are made of long narrow pieces of wood, with which they cover all the body at the side. The rain ceased and, although they were soaking, they all resumed the ascent of the hill; they reached the entrance of the rock at an opportune time, when the sentinel, quite unsuspicious of such an assault, was absent, as he had gone to get some fire (without the company of which those Indians cannot live), or indeed have a smoke, for they think that that furnishes them with fine company. On that account, Silvestre de Rodas and some of the foremost, who were the most vigorous [127]were enabled to enter. The sentinel returned with a brand in his hand, and when he was near perceived the bad effect of his carelessness, and believed that our camp was already upon him. He looked in astonishment, and then, hurriedly taking flight, began to cry out and announce that our men had already entered the hill by means of the rock. Not less was the confusion of all, who were quite free from the dread of so unexpected an assault. Confused and lacking in counsel, a panic terror seized them and forced them into disorganized flight, so that Silvestre de Rodas and the Lutaos were allowed to become masters of the field. Unfurling their victorious banners, they took possession of the lodgings, trenches, and food of the enemy. Don Ginés de Rojas ascended the hill with his whole army, and destroyed the insurgent quarters by setting fire to them. Having published a general pardon, those who had been insurgents before, presented themselves in peace.

Very different was the success of the brave Silvestre de Rodas, with his Lutaos led by Don Francisco Ugbo and Don Alonso Macombo, who on July 2, 1650, launched the attack at the most challenging spot—referred to as the eye of the needle in the rock, as mentioned earlier, through which Silvestre de Rodas was the first to pass. He chose the cover of night, a time when they were least likely to be caught. Climbing up one by one and unarmed, they put in the necessary effort, but halfway up, they faced a challenge that could have derailed their significant mission. A heavy rain began to pour, lasting a large part of the night, and the men endured it without any shelter, while carefully ensuring they didn’t run out of fire for their matches—using the shields of the Lutaos, known as carazas, made from long, narrow pieces of wood that cover the body from the sides. The rain finally stopped, and although they were drenched, they all continued their ascent. They reached the entrance of the rock at just the right time when the sentinel, completely unaware of the impending attack, was absent, having left to fetch some fire (which these Indians cannot live without), or perhaps to have a smoke, as they believed it provided them with good company. Because of this, Silvestre de Rodas and some of the stronger members were able to enter. The sentinel returned holding a brand, and as he got closer, he realized the negative consequences of his negligence and thought that our camp was already upon him. He looked in shock and, in a panic, fled, shouting out that our men had entered the hill via the rock. The confusion among everyone else was no less significant, as they were caught off guard by such an unexpected assault. Confused and without a plan, they were seized by panic, which sent them into a chaotic retreat, allowing Silvestre de Rodas and the Lutaos to take control of the area. Unfurling their victorious banners, they claimed the enemy's quarters, trenches, and supplies. Don Ginés de Rojas ascended the hill with his entire army and destroyed the rebel camp by setting it on fire. After declaring a general pardon, those who had previously rebelled came forward in peace.

The chief leader Sumoroy and his sorcerer father refused to put in an appearance, or to talk of peace. But the very ones whom he had caused to rebel killed him, and carried his head to Don Ginés de Rojas, although they had been so loyal to him before that when the alcalde-mayor of Leite went at the beginning to reduce them to peace, and asked them as the first condition to deliver to him the head of Sumoroy, they, making light of the request, sent him the head of a swine. But afterward, as a token of their true obedience, they delivered the head, without any one asking for it. Don Juan Ponce remained in hiding in the island of Cebú for a long time, but after having obtained pardon he returned to Palapag; [128]there he committed crimes that were so atrocious that the alcalde-mayor seized him and sent him to Manila, where he paid for those crimes on the scaffold. He who had the best end was Don Pedro Caamug; for he was the first to present himself, and showed great loyalty in the reduction of the others. He continued all his life to be very quiet, and was governor of his village, where he was highly esteemed; and it was proved that he was not the one who had killed Father Vicente with his hands, although he was captain of that band. Moreover, it was found to be advisable to overlook much on that occasion, as the quiet of all the Pintados Islands, who were awaiting the end of the rebels of Palapag, depended on it.

The leader Sumoroy and his sorcerer father refused to show up or discuss peace. However, those he had incited to rebel ended up killing him and took his head to Don Ginés de Rojas, even though they had been so loyal to him before that when the alcalde-mayor of Leite initially tried to bring them to peace and asked them to hand over Sumoroy's head, they casually sent him the head of a pig instead. Later, as a sign of their true loyalty, they delivered the head without anyone asking for it. Don Juan Ponce stayed hidden on the island of Cebú for a long time, but after receiving a pardon, he returned to Palapag; [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] there he committed such atrocious crimes that the alcalde-mayor arrested him and sent him to Manila, where he faced justice on the gallows. The one who fared best was Don Pedro Caamug; he was the first to step forward and showed great loyalty in bringing others back in line. He lived a quiet life and became the governor of his village, where he was well-respected; it was proven that he did not personally kill Father Vicente, even though he was the captain of that band. Additionally, it was deemed necessary to overlook a lot at that time, as the peace of all the Pintados Islands, who were waiting for the rebellion in Palapag to end, depended on it.

[The following additional information is obtained from Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, vi, pp. 247–280:]

[The following additional information is obtained from Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, vi, pp. 247–280:]

[p. 254:] From here [i.e., Cebú] leaped more than sparks to the province of Caraga, where there had been some causes for resentment between the alcalde-mayor and the father minister of Tandag. The father had rebuked the alcalde for oppressions inflicted on the Indians, and, perceiving that his exhortations were unheeded, he carried his complaints to the supreme tribunal, where hearing was given to them. The alcalde-mayor was angry at being prodded from Manila, and found means to take his revenge. Governor Faxardo, vigilant in defending the provinces from the Dutch, gave orders to reconnoiter the harbors and fortify the military posts; and, that he might take seasonable precautions, he solicited accurate information [from the officials]. [129]The alcalde-mayor, in the anger that he felt, availed himself of this opportunity. He informed the governor that the fort of Tandag was in condition to make a vigorous defense, to which the only hindrance was the church and convent—a very strong edifice, which dominates the castle—and that he considered it very necessary to demolish it. In virtue of this report, it was decided in the military and fiscal councils that those buildings should be demolished, as well as all others that might be on that coast which were of like materials, in order that the Dutch might not find in them means of offense or defense. This order arrived at Tandag, where now there was another governor. Captain Don Juan Garcia did not make it known, and held a council in the fort regarding its execution, and therein was decided the suspension of the order—for, in case that the enemy came, the buildings could be easily torn down and burned, since the walls were weak and the roofs of nipa or straw—until the supreme government should make some other arrangement. Representations were made to that government of the great sorrow that the natives felt at the destruction [of those buildings], from which it was feared that if another church were not built, at a greater distance, the natives would take flight to the mountains. Notwithstanding this second information, the former order for demolition was confirmed. [See account of this measure, and of the revolt of the Indians, and of its being quelled by Spanish troops, in VOL. XXXVI, in Santa Theresa’s narrative. Concepción continues, p. 262:] This father minister25 sent a despatch to Manila, communicating this melancholy information; [130]on receiving it, Señor Faxardo immediately sent to Tandag Captain Gregorio Dicastillo with a detachment of Spanish infantry, so that, in conjunction with Bernabe de la Plaza, alcalde-mayor of that province, they might try all measures, even though they might be severe, for reducing the insurgents. They went to Butuan, where they established a military base or headquarters. In order to justify the severity of war, a general amnesty was published. Many Indians came to present themselves, of whom several were hanged; a few of those who came down from the mountains gained their liberty, the rest remaining as slaves. It was a wicked act of those who executed [the governor’s orders] that they shamefully broke the promise made in the name of the king, and in so august a name committed perfidy. Manila and its suburbs were full of slaves. The royal Audiencia made formal inquiry into these illegal acts, and took the residencia of the principal persons concerned in them. One was put to the torture, and confessed; he was sentenced to decapitation. The property of another was confiscated, after two years of imprisonment; and another found himself reduced to extreme poverty. He who was commissioned by the supreme government for the trial of these suits, Licentiate Don Manuel Suarez de Olivera, the military auditor-general, declared in favor of the Indian slaves, setting all of them free. In order that this decree might be effective, those included under its provisions were registered by father Fray Augustin—then secretary of his province, and known by the name of “Padre Capitan” [i.e., [131]“Father Captain”]—who included in the list many Indians whose names were not contained in the official documents. He presented it to the governor, and asked for a mandatory decree for their liberty, which was promptly issued; and then he went with the notary through all the houses in which the Indians were distributed, enforcing the execution of the decree. This proceeding cost him many fatigues and annoyances; for since those who had paid out their money for the Indians were left without slaves, there was hardly a house where he came where he would not hear opprobrious language. It also caused him great expenses; but his efficient management of the business came out successfully. He collected all the slaves, and furnished them with transportation to carry them back to their homes and their native land. This benefaction rendered it easy for the Indian chiefs of Linao, who had left their village and were fugitives, to return to their due obedience and vassalage....

[p. 254:] From here [i.e., Cebú] there were more than just sparks flying to the province of Caraga, where tensions had built up between the mayor and the father minister of Tandag. The father had scolded the mayor for the mistreatment of the Indians, and seeing that his warnings went ignored, he took his complaints to the highest court, which agreed to hear them. The mayor was furious about being called out from Manila and found a way to get back at him. Governor Faxardo, keen to protect the provinces from the Dutch, ordered an assessment of the harbors and fortification of military posts; to ensure proper precautions, he requested detailed information [from the officials]. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] The mayor took advantage of his anger. He informed the governor that the fort in Tandag was ready for a strong defense, but the only obstacle was the church and convent—a very sturdy structure that overlooked the castle—and he thought it essential to tear it down. Based on this report, the military and fiscal councils decided to demolish those buildings, as well as any others along that coast made of similar materials, so that the Dutch would not find any means of attack or defense. This order arrived in Tandag, where a new governor was now in charge. Captain Don Juan Garcia kept this information secret and held a meeting in the fort regarding its execution, where they decided to put the order on hold—because if the enemy came, the buildings could be easily destroyed and burned, since the walls were weak and the roofs were made of nipa or straw—until the central government arranged something else. Requests were sent to that government about the deep distress the locals felt about the destruction [of those buildings], fearing that if another church weren't built further away, the locals would flee to the mountains. Despite this second report, the previous order for demolition was upheld. [See account of this measure, and of the revolt of the Indians, and its suppression by Spanish troops, in VOL. 36, in Santa Theresa’s narrative. Concepción continues, p. 262:] This father minister25 sent a message to Manila, delivering this sad news; [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] upon receiving it, Señor Faxardo immediately dispatched Captain Gregorio Dicastillo to Tandag with a group of Spanish infantry, so that, along with Bernabe de la Plaza, the province’s mayor, they could take whatever measures necessary, even if they were harsh, to subdue the rebels. They headed to Butuan, where they set up a military base or headquarters. To justify the harshness of war, a general amnesty was announced. Many Indians came forward, of whom several were hanged; a few of those who came down from the mountains were freed, while the rest were kept as slaves. It was a disgraceful act by those carrying out [the governor’s orders] that they shamelessly broke the promise made in the name of the king, betraying such a noble cause. Manila and its suburbs were filled with slaves. The royal Audiencia officially investigated these illegal actions and looked into the conduct of those primarily involved. One was tortured and confessed; he was sentenced to be executed. Another had his property seized after two years in prison; and a third found himself in extreme poverty. The individual appointed by the central government to handle these cases, Licentiate Don Manuel Suarez de Olivera, the military auditor-general, ruled in favor of the Indian slaves, setting all of them free. To ensure this decree was enforced, those covered by its provisions were registered by Father Fray Augustin—then the secretary of his province and referred to as “Padre Capitan” [i.e., [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]“Father Captain”]—who included many Indians in his list whose names were not in the official records. He submitted it to the governor, requesting a mandatory decree for their freedom, which was promptly issued; then he went with the notary through all the homes where the Indians were dispersed, ensuring the decree was carried out. This effort cost him a great deal of effort and annoyance; as those who had paid for the Indians found themselves without slaves, he was met with unkind words in nearly every house he visited. It also incurred significant expenses for him; however, his diligent management led to success. He gathered all the slaves and arranged for their transportation back to their homes and homeland. This act of kindness made it easier for the Indian chiefs of Linao, who had fled their village, to return to their rightful place and loyalty....

[pp. 273–281: After the rebellion was put down in Leyte], the Indians of Bisayas remained more quiet; by those so costly experiences they had been undeceived, and had learned that it is impossible to shake off the Spanish yoke, by force or by fraud; their wildness subdued by trade and intercourse [with us], they recognize that they ought not to thrust aside what produces so many advantages for them in being treated by our sovereign as his children. These tribunals treat them with charity, mildness, and justice, besides bearing with their troublesome traits and their weaknesses, without adding injury to their wretched condition.

[pp. 273–281: After the rebellion was put down in Leyte], the people of the Bisayas became quieter; through those costly experiences, they realized that it's impossible to shake off Spanish rule, whether by force or deceit. Their wildness, softened by trade and interaction [with us], made them understand that they shouldn't reject what brings them so many benefits from being treated like children of our sovereign. These courts treat them with kindness, patience, and fairness, while also tolerating their troublesome traits and weaknesses, without making their difficult situation worse.

Don Francisco Ugbo returned from the Palapag [132]expedition wounded, and attacked by a serious malady, which was declared mortal. This commander, learning that his last hour was at hand, showed how deeply rooted was the Christian religion in his heart, although it was of recent growth; he received the holy sacraments with extraordinary devotion and reverence, exhorted all his family and acquaintances to become good Christians, and in the midst of his intense pains endured them without complaint or anger. In his testament he commanded, as his last wishes, that his property should be shared between his relatives and his soul [i.e., in saying masses for its repose]; and he died while offering fervent acts of contrition, to the admiration and consolation of those who were present.

Don Francisco Ugbo returned from the Palapag [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] expedition injured and suffering from a serious illness that was deemed fatal. Knowing that his time was short, he demonstrated how deeply the Christian faith had taken root in his heart, despite being newly embraced; he received the holy sacraments with remarkable devotion and respect, encouraged all his family and friends to be good Christians, and endured his intense pain without complaint or bitterness. In his will, he expressed his final wishes that his assets be divided among his relatives and that masses be said for the peace of his soul; he passed away while fervently repenting, leaving those around him in awe and comfort.

By the death of Father Juan de el Campo the [religious] administration of La Caldera and Siocon was left forsaken. The provincial of the Society sent to that conversion Father Francisco Combes, who applied his efforts to gathering those wild natures into a social group; with this basis he undertook their instruction in our supreme mysteries, and they gradually became accustomed to a rational and civilized life. On the river of Sibuco there was an Indian named Ondol, so cruel that he would kill any person without further cause than his own whim; and this man had a brother of the same barbarous habits, who kept a great number of women in his power that he might abuse them. Ondol sought to kill Father Adulfo de Pedrosa, and also threatened Father Combes; but the latter discreetly took no notice of it, and Ondol went on, trusting to this. Consequently, before he realized it he was seized, and sent a prisoner to Samboangan; the governor [133]there received him gladly, at seeing in his power an Indian who had made so much mischief. His brother continued to rouse disturbances, and an armada was sent against him, but accomplished nothing. This, however, warned him to avoid the blow, and he hid among the woods and hills. The guards of Father Combes seized by stratagem more than fifteen relatives of this evil man, and sent them to Samboangan; love for his people, and their danger, brought this bloody man to the church, to beg mercy from the father. The latter gladly admitted him, and proposed to him the conditions, [of his pardon]—he and all his people, who were Lutaos, must live in range of the artillery of the fort, and render service in the armada. He also obtained, by diligent efforts, the ascendency over the insurgents of Siocon. Father Combes entered that village, landing there with his men; they asked for the bones of Father Campo’s companions, which they found lying among the brier-patches. These they buried together, and placed a cross over the tomb. Father Combes took from that place a hermit, who, dressed as a woman, punctually observed the natural law, and professed celibacy; he was named Lavia de Manila.26 This man was converted to the law of Christ, and spent the remainder of his life as a faithful servant [of God]. [134]

By the time Father Juan de el Campo died, the religious oversight of La Caldera and Siocon was abandoned. The provincial of the Society sent Father Francisco Combes to take charge, who focused on gathering the wild individuals into a community. With that foundation, he began teaching them our essential beliefs, and they gradually adjusted to a more rational and civilized way of life. In the river of Sibuco, there was an Indian named Ondol, who was so ruthless that he would kill anyone simply on a whim; he had a brother who shared the same brutal tendencies and kept many women under his control to abuse. Ondol plotted to kill Father Adulfo de Pedrosa and also threatened Father Combes; however, Father Combes wisely ignored the threats, leading Ondol to believe he was safe. Eventually, Ondol was captured and sent to Samboangan, where the governor [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] welcomed him, pleased to have in custody an Indian who had caused so much trouble. His brother continued to stir up trouble, prompting an armada to be sent against him, but they achieved nothing. Nevertheless, this warned him to evade capture, and he hid in the woods and hills. Father Combes' guards cleverly captured more than fifteen of this wicked man's relatives and sent them to Samboangan; concern for his people and their safety drove this violent man to the church to seek mercy from Father Combes. The father welcomed him and laid out the terms of his pardon: he and all his people, who were Lutaos, must live within the range of the fort's artillery and provide service for the armada. He also worked diligently to gain influence over the insurgents of Siocon. Father Combes entered that village, landing with his men; they requested the bones of Father Campo's companions, which they found scattered among the thorns. They buried them together and placed a cross on the grave. Father Combes took a hermit from that area, who, disguised as a woman, faithfully followed natural law and practiced celibacy; he was named Lavia de Manila.26 This man converted to the teachings of Christ and spent the rest of his life as a devoted servant [of God]. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

In Basilan, affairs were more difficult. Most of the people of that island had been subdued by Father Francisco Lado,27 who with the aid of the governor of Samboangan had driven from it all the panditas,28 and the vicious and suspicious characters. Only one of these was left, who by his malice stirred up much disquiet; this was one Tabaco, who incited the natives of the island to revolution. All who desired to be freed from the tribute and other obligations repaired to him, and at once found in him their patron. His faction rapidly increased, and at Samboangan it was decided to intercept this danger. Diligent were their efforts, for the very Basilanos whom it was necessary for the Spaniards to employ warned this man of all that they did; and with their information he mocked the utmost efforts of the Spaniards. An adjutant undertook a raid, with a considerable number of Spaniards and Pampangos, and burned his grain-fields; but he did not encounter Tabaco, and had to return. Father Lado went to find him, and asked him to wait for him in a certain place; the father made such representations that he succeeded in inducing this man to leave the mountains. He went with the father to see the governor of Samboangan, and gave the latter such assurances of his desires for peace and quiet that to him was entrusted the reduction of the natives. He returned to Basilan, and to his perverse mode of life—so much [135]so, that he tried to kill Father Lado, in order to remove that obstacle to his evil designs. The father knew his depraved intentions, and fled from the blow that was aimed at him; and at Samboangan there was discussion, in a military council, of the most effective measure for restraining those seditious natives. Among the speakers was an alférez, Don Alonso Tenorio, who said that it was a fruitless trouble and fatigue to transport [to Basilan] arms and troops, since these carried with them the warning to the rebels to place themselves in safety; that efforts should be made to kill Tabaco, and the rest would be subdued, and thus this source of evil would be stopped without wearing out either Spaniards or Indians. The governor, who supposed that Don Alonso spoke without experience, and that the arrogance of youth led him too far, said to him: “Then, your Grace, go and kill him.” Tenorio was not a man to jest, or one to form speculative projects which others might carry out; he took this order quite in earnest, and immediately set out for Basilan with some companions. He summoned Tabaco to a certain place, in which he must communicate to him an important matter, which would be to his advantage. Tabaco went to the place designated, with several of his most valiant companions; and Tenorio also arrived with his friends. The Indian awaited him without fear, at seeing him destitute of forces adequate to his own; and Tenorio, having talked about the subject that had been agreed upon, said to him, in a most resolute voice, “Tabaco, unless thou desirest me to kill thee, give thyself up as a prisoner.” Tabaco, without showing any alarm, rose to his feet, holding his lance, in order to reply with it; [136]Tenorio attacked him with astonishing courage, and the companions of both engaged in the fight. Our men killed Tabaco, and seven of his braves; and on our side one Spaniard and two Indians were slain. Tenorio cut off Tabaco’s head, and those of his seven companions, and in forty hours29 was already on his return to Samboangan with these trophies. Thus promptly was concluded an exploit which pledged [the safety of] all the forces of the garrison; with the death of Tabaco his followers lost their courage, and the island remained entirely quiet. Such is the power of an heroic resolution. It is certain that conversions of the Moros are difficult, but those which are successful are stable; they steadfastly maintain the true religion, when they cast aside the errors of their false belief. The following instance is an edifying one, and goes far to confirm our statement. When the Joloans were conquered and reduced to quiet, the turbulent and cruel Achen—a dato, and a notorious pirate—was not pacified. He made a voyage to Borney, in order to stir up the natives there, and to make them companions and auxiliaries in his robberies. He carried with him his wife Tuam Oley,30 daughter of Libot; the latter was a urancaya or petty king of the Lutaos of the Siocon [137]coast, and was a Mahometan by profession. Enlightened within and from above, he had received holy baptism, and very strictly maintained its innocence. Achen became very sick in Borney, and, reduced to the last extremity, as a last farewell he made his wife swear that she would never abandon the doctrine of Mahoma. After Achen’s death, Oley began to feel the sorrows of an afflicted widowhood, and she sadly wrote to her father, Libot, asking him to go to carry her away from that wretched exile. His paternal affection made him resolve, although he was now old and feeble, to go to console his daughter. The governor [of Samboangan] tried to prevent this voyage, on account of Libot’s age, and because, as the latter had grown up in the errors of that sect, it was feared that there was danger of his perversion [from the Christian faith]. The governor therefore proposed to him measures which were sufficient for removing his daughter from that country. Libot assured him of his constancy in the faith, and in proof of his firmness, gave a contribution of a hundred pesos to the church; as it was not easy to detain him, they acquiesced in the voyage. He arrived at the court of Borney, where, on account of his advanced age and the hardships of the journey, he fell ill, and this sickness proved to be mortal. The king, seeing Libot, exhorted him to abandon the new religion and return to his former faith; but Libot remained steadfast. Then the king sent him his panditas, or learned doctors, in order to convince him; but they found that their efforts were in vain. The king was angered at this constancy, and threatened to take Libot’s property from him, make his daughter a slave, and fling his dead [138]body into the open field. All this Libot scorned, and charged his daughter to bury him as a Christian, without using the ceremonies of the Moors [i.e., Mahometans] in their funerals, or even mingling these [with Christian rites]; and so he died, in a very Christian frame of mind. The prince took possession of all Libot’s property, and ordered that his daughter Oley be imprisoned; but she, availing herself of her many slaves, forced her way out of her prison, and risked going as a fugitive to Samboangan. The king, furious, undertook to avenge this affront on the corpse of her father, and commanded that it be disinterred; but through Supreme Providence they were never able to find it, although they attempted to, with the closest search, and they believed that his daughter had carried the body with her. Oley arrived at Samboangan safely, and soon fell ill, not without suspicion of some deadly poison. The fathers went to her, to see if they could convert her to the faith of Jesus Christ, but their persuasions were vain. In compassion, the governor and other persons opposed such obstinacy, with both promises and threats; but they could not make her change her opinion in the least. The victory was won by the [native] master-of-camp, Don Pedro Cabilin, a very influential and respected man, who pledged himself to persuade Oley to become a Christian. She listened to him attentively on account of his nobility, and because he was of her own kinsfolk and blood. With these recommendations, and his effectual arguments, that obstinacy was conquered, and she received holy baptism, to the universal joy of the entire garrison. Her godmother was the wife of the governor, Doña Cathalina Henriquez, and the [139]newly-baptized convert took that lady’s name. Oley had an excellent intellect, and put it to good use in her last moments, continually invoking God up to her last breath. The Spaniards gave her a very solemn burial. The chiefs carried her body on their shoulders up to the door of the church, where the governor and the officers of the garrison took it, carrying it in the same manner to the burial-place, and afterward to the tomb—this magnificent display causing edification to all.

In Basilan, things were tougher. Most of the people on that island had been brought under control by Father Francisco Lado, who, with the help of the governor of Samboangan, had driven away all the panditas and the vicious, shady characters. Only one remained, a troublemaker named Tabaco, who stirred up a lot of unrest among the islanders. Those looking to escape tribute and other obligations turned to him as their leader. His following grew quickly, and the authorities in Samboangan decided they needed to address this threat. Despite their efforts, even the Basilanos, whom the Spaniards needed to work with, warned Tabaco of their plans; with their alerts, he laughed off the Spaniards' attempts. An adjutant led a raid with a sizable group of Spaniards and Pampangos, burning Tabaco's fields; however, he didn't encounter Tabaco and had to retreat. Father Lado sought Tabaco out, persuading him to meet at a specific place. The father was convincing enough that Tabaco agreed to come down from the mountains. He came with Father Lado to meet the governor of Samboangan, promising his desire for peace, which led to him being tasked with managing the island's inhabitants. Once back in Basilan, he returned to his deceitful life—so much so that he attempted to kill Father Lado to eliminate that obstacle to his plans. The father saw through his malicious intentions and evaded the attack. Meanwhile, a military council in Samboangan discussed effective measures to control the rebellious natives. Among those speaking was an alférez, Don Alonso Tenorio, who argued that transporting weapons and troops to Basilan was pointless, as it only warned the rebels to hide; he suggested that if they killed Tabaco, the rest would fall into line, stopping this source of trouble without exhausting their forces. The governor, thinking Don Alonso lacked experience and was overly bold due to youth, said, “Then, Your Grace, go and kill him.” Tenorio wasn’t one to joke or leave plans for others to execute; he took the order seriously and immediately headed to Basilan with some companions. He summoned Tabaco to a specific spot, claiming he needed to discuss something important that would benefit Tabaco. Tabaco went to the meeting place with several of his bravest supporters, and Tenorio arrived with his allies. The Indian awaited him without fear, seeing Tenorio was outnumbered. After discussing the agreed-upon subject, Tenorio firmly told him, “Tabaco, if you don’t want me to kill you, surrender as a prisoner.” Tabaco calmly stood up with his lance to respond; Tenorio bravely attacked him, and both sides joined the melee. Our men killed Tabaco and seven of his warriors, while we lost one Spaniard and two Indians. Tenorio beheaded Tabaco and his seven companions, and within forty hours was already on his way back to Samboangan with these trophies. This decisive action ensured the safety of all stationed forces; with Tabaco's death, his followers lost their resolve, and the island was completely peaceful. Such is the power of a heroic decision. Converting Moros is certainly challenging, but successful conversions are lasting; they steadfastly uphold true faith when they abandon their false beliefs. A noteworthy example that supports this is the tale of Achen, a turbulent and murderous dato who wasn’t pacified after the Joloans were subdued. He traveled to Borney to incite the locals to join him in his robberies. He brought along his wife, Tuam Oley, daughter of Libot, a petty king of the Lutaos from the Siocon coast, who was a professed Muslim. Enlightened and newly baptized, he strictly maintained his faith. Achen fell gravely ill in Borney, and, fearing for his life, made his wife promise never to abandon the teachings of Muhammad. After Achen's death, Oley felt the sorrow of being a widowed woman and wrote to her father, Libot, asking him to rescue her from that miserable situation. His paternal love moved him to set out, despite his old age and frail state, to comfort her. The governor of Samboangan tried to stop him from making the journey due to Libot's age and the risk of him reverting to the errors of his old faith. Therefore, the governor offered to arrange for his daughter to be taken back instead. Libot assured him of his unwavering faith, and to prove his loyalty, he donated a hundred pesos to the church; as they found it difficult to detain him, they agreed to his voyage. He arrived at the court of Borney, where, due to his advanced age and the harshness of travel, he fell ill, and it turned out to be fatal. The king urged Libot to abandon the new faith and revert to his old beliefs, but Libot stood firm. The king then sent his panditas, or learned scholars, to convince him, but their efforts failed. Infuriated by Libot's steadfastness, the king threatened to seize his property, enslave his daughter, and desecrate his remains by throwing them into the open field. Libot brushed this off, instructing his daughter to bury him as a Christian, without any Moorish [i.e., Muslim] funeral rituals or mingling them with Christian rites; thus, he passed away in a devout state. The prince confiscated all of Libot’s possessions and ordered his daughter Oley to be imprisoned; however, she, with the help of her many slaves, managed to escape and fled to Samboangan. Enraged, the king sought to avenge this insult to her father's remains and ordered them to be exhumed, but through Divine Providence, they were never located, despite thorough searches. They suspected that his daughter had taken the body with her. Oley safely reached Samboangan but soon fell ill, raising suspicions of poisoning. The fathers visited her to see if they could guide her to the faith of Jesus Christ, but their attempts were in vain. Out of compassion, the governor and others tried to persuade her to change her mind, using both promises and threats, but she remained unyielding. The breakthrough came from the native master-of-camp, Don Pedro Cabilin, a highly respected man, who vowed to convince Oley to embrace Christianity. She listened to him earnestly due to his nobility and familial connection. With these advantages and his compelling arguments, her obstinacy was overcome, and she received holy baptism, bringing joy to the entire garrison. Her godmother was the governor's wife, Doña Cathalina Henriquez, and the newly baptized convert took on that lady’s name. Oley was intelligent and used her mind well until her last moments, continually praying to God until her final breath. The Spaniards gave her a grand burial. The chiefs carried her body on their shoulders to the church entrance, where the governor and garrison officers took it and carried it in the same manner to her final resting place, creating a magnificent display that edified everyone.

[See Santa Theresa’s account (in VOL. XXXVI) of one of the outer waves of this insurrection, that among the Manobos of Mindanao.]

[See Santa Theresa’s account (in VOL. 36) of one of the outer waves of this uprising, that among the Manobos of Mindanao.]

In Pampanga and Pangasinan; 1660–61

In Pampanga and Pangasinan; 1660–61

[The following account of this revolt is taken (partly in synopsis) from Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 568–590. These events are also related in Santa Cruz’s Hist. Sant. Rosario, pp. 331–341; Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 253b–256; Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 9–35; and Ferrando’s Hist. de los PP. Dominicos, iii, pp. 67–74.]

[The following account of this revolt is taken (partly in summary) from Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 568–590. These events are also discussed in Santa Cruz’s Hist. Sant. Rosario, pp. 331–341; Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 253b–256; Concepción’s Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 9–35; and Ferrando’s Hist. de los PP. Dominicos, iii, pp. 67–74.]

[p. 568:] All the ten years of the government of the prudent and magnanimous governor Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara were a melancholy period of troubles and misfortunes, greater and more continual than these islands had ever before suffered; and without doubt they would have been more painful and intolerable if they had not been ameliorated and diminished by the discretion, affable behavior, and clemency of this great governor—so that it seems as if divine Providence (or, in heathen phrase, Fortune) had trained Don Sabiniano for a governor in [140]such times. [Diaz then enumerates several of these disasters, notably the losses of richly-laden galleons.]

[p. 568:] The entire ten years of the rule of the wise and generous governor Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara were filled with sadness, troubles, and misfortunes, worse and more constant than anything these islands had faced before. Without a doubt, things would have been even more painful and unbearable if it weren't for the good judgment, friendly nature, and mercy of this great governor—making it seem as if divine Providence (or, in a more pagan sense, Fortune) had prepared Don Sabiniano to lead during such challenging times. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] [Diaz then lists several of these disasters, particularly the losses of heavily-laden galleons.]

[p. 571 et seq.] So frequent were these losses that Don Juan Grau de Monfalcón, procurator in Madrid for the city of Manila, in a curious treatise which he presented to the royal and supreme Council of Indias makes a computation of them for sixty-five years, and finds that only fifteen of these were exempt from such misfortunes. But they were almost continual in this calamitous term of office, although Don Sabiniano met all these disasters with serenity and steadfastness, and apparently with cheerfulness; this he did through prudence, in order that the sorrow [of the people] might not extend to despair.... But no art could long veil so much misery. The more warlike provinces of these islands ascertained the unusual events which had caused our forces to be so small, however much prudence dissimulated these; and they sought to avail themselves of so good an opportunity, deeming it a suitable time for recovering their liberty, a gift of priceless value. Subjugation is always a matter of coercion, and this in turn needs other and greater violence that it may repress this natural inclination; and in natives whose condition makes them abject this desire increases more vehemently. They did not realize that the Spaniards had freed them from the harsh captivity of their barbarous tyranny, transferring them to an honorable subjection which made them more the masters of their liberty, because these rebels had not endured that tyranny. They came to know our lack of strength, and from that passed to despising it; they presumed more on their own strength than they ought, and rashly went on, without consideration, [141]looking only at the end and forgetting the means [to attain it].

[p. 571 et seq.] The losses were so frequent that Don Juan Grau de Monfalcón, the representative in Madrid for the city of Manila, wrote an interesting report for the royal and supreme Council of Indias. In it, he calculated losses over sixty-five years and discovered that only fifteen incidents were free from such misfortunes. Despite this constant string of calamities during his time in office, Don Sabiniano faced each disaster with calmness, determination, and seemingly a positive attitude; he did this wisely to prevent the people's grief from turning into despair. But no amount of effort could hide the deep suffering for long. The more militaristic provinces of the islands learned about the unusual circumstances that left our forces so weakened, despite the attempts to downplay these. They saw it as a great opportunity, thinking it was the perfect moment to reclaim their freedom, which was an invaluable gift. Control is always enforced through coercion, which requires even more force to stifle this natural desire; and for those whose situation makes them vulnerable, this desire becomes even stronger. They didn’t recognize that the Spaniards had liberated them from the cruel captivity of their barbaric rulers, bringing them into a respectable subjugation that actually gave them more control over their freedom because these rebels had not endured that oppression. They began to perceive our weakness and moved on to disrespecting it; they overestimated their own strength and foolishly pressed forward, focusing only on the outcome and ignoring the means to achieve it.

The first who decided to try fortune by experience were the Pampangos, the most warlike and prominent people of these islands, and near to Manila. [Their rebellion was] all the worse because these people had been trained in the military art in our own schools, in the fortified posts of Ternate, Zamboanga, Joló, Caraga, and other places, where their valor was well known; but it needed the shelter of ours, and therefore it was said that one Spaniard and three Pampangos were equal to four Spaniards. This people were harassed by repeated requisitions for cutting timber, for the continual building of galleons, and they received no satisfaction for many purchases of rice for which the money was due them. The province of Pampanga is in our charge in spiritual matters, and there we have sixteen convents and doctrinas, among the best which there are in this field of Christianity. The convents are: Bacolor (which is the head of them all), Baua, Lubao, Sexmoan, Betis, Porac, Mexico, Minalin, Macabebe, Apalit, Candava, Arayat, Magalang, Gapan, and Santor. Then in the hill-country beyond these places we have large missions of warlike peoples who are being converted to our holy faith, called Italones, Abacaes, and Calonasas, and Ituríes, and various others, who have been induced to settle in several villages. These are continually increasing, and we expect in God that they will attain much growth if it is not interfered with by subjecting them to tribute and personal services, of which they have a great horror. These are the hindrances which delay the conversions of these numerous peoples, some [142]heathens and others recently converted; for among these tribes of low condition the appetite for liberty increases with great force—spurred on by the envy which is aroused in them at seeing the freedom which is enjoyed by other peoples as being more noble or vigorous, or because the cultivation of their mental powers procures it for them. Many peoples were conquered because they did not know their own strength until they found that they were subdued. In these islands we find by experience that in no province do the people live more peaceably than in those which received us with hostility, and in none have they attempted a change [of rule] except in those which invited us with [offers of peace]—and the most pusillanimous of these have most strenuously endeavored to throw off the curb of subjection. Those immediately surrounding Manila were the last to do so, because in them our hands had seized the reins. Some were intimidated by the contact with our power, and others were restrained by a sense of honor, seeing themselves admitted to the privilege of [carrying] our arms, and honored by the confidence which up to this time had been merited by the fidelity of the Pampango people. On this occasion they were the first who broke away, because even our esteem could not remove from them their mean nature.

The first group to try their luck through experience were the Pampangos, the most warlike and prominent people of these islands, near Manila. Their rebellion was even worse because these people had been trained in military skills in our own schools, at the fortified locations of Ternate, Zamboanga, Jolo, Caraga, and other areas, where their bravery was well-known. However, they relied on our protection, leading to the saying that one Spaniard and three Pampangos were equal to four Spaniards. This group was burdened by repeated demands for cutting timber for the continuous construction of galleons, and they received no payment for many rice purchases that were owed to them. The province of Pampanga is under our spiritual care, where we have sixteen convents and doctrine centers, some of the best in our Christian mission. The convents include: Bacolor (the main one), Baua, Lubao, Sexmoan, Betis, Porac, Mexico, Minalin, Macabebe, Apalit, Candava, Arayat, Magalang, Gapan, and Santor. Beyond these towns, in the hilly areas, we have large missions involving warlike peoples who are converting to our holy faith—called Italones, Abacaes, Calonasas, Ituríes, and various others—who have been encouraged to settle in several villages. These communities are continually growing, and we hope that with God's help, they will flourish unless they are disrupted by requiring them to pay tribute and perform personal services, which they greatly fear. These are the obstacles delaying the conversions of these many peoples, some heathens and others recently converted; for among these low-status tribes, the desire for freedom grows a lot—fueled by their envy at seeing the freedom enjoyed by other more noble or vigorous peoples, or because their ability to think leads them to it. Many peoples were conquered because they didn’t realize their own strength until they found themselves subdued. In these islands, we see that in no province do people live more peacefully than in those that initially welcomed us with hostility, and they have made no attempts for change in rule except in those that invited us with offers of peace. The most timid among them have worked hardest to break free from subjugation. Those closest to Manila were the last to resist because our hands had seized control. Some were intimidated by our power, while others were held back by a sense of honor, feeling privileged to bear our arms and honored by the trust earned through the loyalty of the Pampango people. On this occasion, they were the first to break away because even our respect couldn’t change their low nature.

The Pampangos, determined to break the bonds of subjection and throw off the yoke of the Spanish dominion, carried out that resolve with valor. In their opinion, they had just cause for this action, in the timber-cutting that was being done in their forests, in the place called Malasinglo and Bocoboco; they alleged as their first pretexts some acts of oppression [143]committed on them by Juan de Corteberria,31 chief overseer of the said timber-cutting—which lasted eight months, a thousand Pampango men assisting in the work, levied in the usual repartimientos. In the early days of October, 1660, the loyal population of Pampanga made their first rebellious movements—the people being exasperated against the overseers of the wood-cutting, who had been ill-treating them. Setting fire to the huts in which they had lodged, they declared, by the light of the fierce flames, their rash intention; and as leader of their revolt they appointed an Indian chief named Don Francisco Maniago, a native of the village of Mexico, who was master-of-camp for his Majesty. The post of chaplain for the said wood-cutting was filled by a religious of the Order of St. Dominic, named father Fray Pedro Camacho;32 he made all possible efforts to pacify them, but all in vain. On this account he decided to come to Manila and report everything to Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, to whom he represented that he did not regard as prudent the idea that he must proceed with rigor against the ringleaders of the sedition. At the same time when the information of that fire reached Don Sabiniano there came also advices from the alcalde-mayor of the province of Pampanga, Don Juan [144]Gomez de Payva, that he had exhausted all measures for restoring security. In consequence of this, Don Sabiniano again despatched father Fray Pedro Camacho with a message for those people, that he on his part would assure them of pardon and relief if they would return and resume their work. Don Sabiniano rightly guessed the burden imposed by the circumstances of the occasion; for the revolt was in one of the most warlike nations of these islands, and the garrison at Manila was drained of soldiers by the continual reënforcements sent to Maluco, and by the aid [furnished from it] to the relief that had come from Nueva España. This had been brought in the patache “San Damián,” in charge of Admiral Don Manuel de Alarcon, sent by the viceroy, Conde de Baños, and had been secreted on the coast opposite the port of Lampón; and therefore Don Sabiniano, although he put on an appearance of assurance, in reality experienced the utmost anxiety. He wrote secretly to our father Fray José Duque, who was then prior of the convent of Sexmoán, and to father Fray Isidro Rodríguez, prior of the convent of Baua, to ask that they, with the authority which they had acquired during so many years as ministers in that province, would endeavor to persuade those people to return to their obedience. Those religious labored to that end, with all the greater eagerness on account of what was risked in the revolt; but the only effect was to set spurs to the boldness of the insurgents, who attributed to the governor’s fear of them the peaceable measures that were proposed. The result showed this, for, tearing off at once the mask which they had worn, they presented themselves, armed, in the village of Lubao, under the command of the above-named [145]Don Francisco Maniago, although many of the mutineers had gone to their own villages. Others gathered in a strong force in the village of Bacolor, closing the mouths of the rivers with stakes, in order to hinder the commerce of that province with Manila; and they wrote letters to the provinces of Pangasinán and Ilocos, urging them to follow their example and throw off the heavy yoke of the Spaniards, and to kill all of the latter who might be in those provinces. Information of this reached Don Sabiniano at night, and, without stopping to wait for daylight, he embarked in company with the twelve military leaders, and set out at daybreak for the village of Macabebe.

The Pampangos, eager to break free from Spanish rule, acted on that determination with bravery. They believed they had valid reasons for their actions due to the timber-cutting happening in their forests at Malasinglo and Bocoboco. They claimed that their initial grievances stemmed from oppression inflicted on them by Juan de Corteberria, the chief overseer of the timber-cutting, which lasted for eight months, with a thousand Pampango men drafted for the work, as was the norm. In early October 1660, the loyal people of Pampanga began their first signs of rebellion, fueled by their anger towards the overseers who had mistreated them. They set fire to the huts where they had been housed, publicly declaring their intentions amidst the roaring flames. They chose an Indian chief named Don Francisco Maniago, a native of Mexico, as their leader; he served as a master-of-camp for the king. The chaplain for the timber-cutting was Father Fray Pedro Camacho, a member of the Order of St. Dominic, who tried desperately to calm the situation but to no avail. Consequently, he decided to go to Manila and inform Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, expressing that he did not find it wise to act harshly against the leaders of the uprising. At the same time that news of the fire reached Don Sabiniano, he received word from the alcalde-mayor of Pampanga, Don Juan Gomez de Payva, that he had done everything possible to restore order. In response, Don Sabiniano sent Father Fray Pedro Camacho back with a message offering pardon and relief if the Pampangos would return and continue their work. Don Sabiniano correctly sensed the gravity of the situation; the revolt was happening in one of the most warlike areas of the islands, and the Manila garrison was short on soldiers due to ongoing reinforcements sent to Maluco and support dispatched from Nueva España. This aid had arrived on the patache “San Damián,” led by Admiral Don Manuel de Alarcon, sent by the viceroy, Conde de Baños, and was secretly hidden near the port of Lampón. Therefore, despite his outward confidence, Don Sabiniano felt deep anxiety. He wrote secretly to Father Fray José Duque, who was then the prior of the convent of Sexmoán, and to Father Fray Isidro Rodríguez, the prior of the convent of Baua, asking them, given their long-standing authority as ministers in the region, to persuade the people to return to obedience. These clergymen worked diligently toward this goal, especially given the threats posed by the revolt, but their efforts only emboldened the insurgents, who interpreted the governor’s conciliatory measures as a sign of fear. The outcome made this clear, as they discarded their initial pretense and appeared armed in the village of Lubao, under the command of Don Francisco Maniago, although many rebels returned to their villages. Others formed a strong group in the village of Bacolor, blocking the rivers with stakes to disrupt trade between that province and Manila, and they sent letters to the provinces of Pangasinán and Ilocos, urging them to rebel against Spanish rule and to kill any Spaniards in their territories. News of this reached Don Sabiniano at night, and without waiting for dawn, he boarded a ship with twelve military leaders and set out at daybreak for the village of Macabebe.

The governor took with him, besides his alférez Francisco de Roa and others, the following recently-created officers: Generals Don Felipe de Ugalde, Juan Enrique de Miranda, and Don Juan de Vergara; Admirals Don Diego Cortés and Don Felix de Herrera Robachero; Sargentos-mayor Don Pedro Tamayo, Martín Sanchez de la Cuesta, and Pedro Lozano; Captains Don Pedro Carmona, Don Juan de Morales, Don José Cascos de Quirós, Don Alonso de las Casas, Don Alonso de Quirante, Don Gabriel Niño de Guzmán, Juan Diaz Yañez, Silvestre de Rodas; and for his secretaries General Sebastian Rayo Doria and Juan de Padilla. The government notaries were Captain Juan Fijado and Captain Simón de Fuentes; and the aides-de-camp, Pedro Méndez de Sotomayor and Francisco Iglesias. With this detachment, who numbered at most 300 men, in eleven small champans and with four pieces of artillery, each carrying four-libra balls, Don Sabiniano began his journey; and he reached the village [146]of Macabebe at six in the afternoon of the following day, having been delayed a long time by removing the stakes with which the insurgents had closed the entrances to the rivers. All the islands were imperiled by this war, since all the tribes were on the watch for its outcome—which, in case it were adverse to the Spaniards, would give to this [Pampango] people a great reputation, and to the rest so much confidence that not one of them would forego the opportunity for their fancied relief. A very hazardous corrective was that of resort to arms; for, whether [we remained] victorious or conquered, in any event the Spanish power would be left diminished and weakened. For, although only 200 infantry had been taken from the Manila garrison for this expedition, it was necessary that the deficiency should be made good by the ecclesiastical estate in that city—which was left in charge of Master-of-camp Don Domingo de Ugarte. As we have stated, Don Sabiniano arrived at Macabebe, a rich and populous village in that province; he came opportunely, as on that very day the people in that village had made ready their vessels and weapons to go to join the mutineers. Those of Macabebe received the governor with affected friendliness, the presence of the Spaniards so well armed having taken away their courage; and all their anxiety was to hide the tokens of their disorder. The governor was lodged in the house of Don Francisco Salonga, as it was the best in the village, although the convent was offered to him by father Fray Enrique de Castro (who was its prior), observant of the civilities requisite to guests so honored, although unexpected. He also endeavored that all the women should be kept out of sight, [147]so that the wanton conduct of the soldiers might not give any occasion for new dangers; and Don Sabiniano gave the men strict orders, with heavy penalties for the transgressors, so that they might not render the Spanish name more odious through fault of ours. This unexpected arrival diverted the course of the resolution made by the Macabebe natives, and therefore they revoked it, dissimulating with affected protestations of loyalty; but those who were found with arms did not neglect to hasten to hide their weapons, in order that their recent inconstancy might not render suspicious, by so manifest a token of rebellion, the loyalty which their respectful behavior pledged. Don Sabiniano well understood it all, but, feigning affable manners, and careful to show confidence, he made a virtue of the occasion. The obsequious solicitude of the Macabebe men rendered doubtful the resolution of the others, who in the village of Apalit took away the despatches that had been given to Don Agustin Pimintuan, the intended ambassador of the rebels for conspiring in the provinces of Pangasinán and Ilocos, their near neighbors—fearing that he who bore them would place them in the hands of the governor, that he might with the names of the conspirators blot his own from the list of the traitors. All were afraid at the so close proximity of the governor, imagining that they already had upon them the entire Spanish power, which discouraged the former ardor of all. It was worth much to Don Sabiniano that he had made sure of one individual, named Don Juan Macapagal, a chief of the village of Arayat, since it was necessary to pass through there to reach the province of Pangasinán; and, this being assured, we were free from the danger that the [148]Indians of the two provinces might unite their forces. Don Sabiniano wrote a letter to Don Juan Macapagal, in which, assuming his fidelity to his Majesty, he ordered that chief to come to confer with him at Macabebe. Don Juan Macapagal immediately left his home, and, passing through the camp of the rebels, went to assure Don Sabiniano of his obedience, offering his life in the service of his Majesty. Don Sabiniano treated him with great kindness, accompanied with promises [of reward], with which the fidelity of Macapagal was easily secured. Don Sabiniano made him master-of-camp of his people, and, as pledges for his constancy, asked him for his children and wife, on the pretext of assuring in Manila their safety from the rebels—thus mingling his confidence with measures of suspicion, but veiling this with pretexts of protection. The Pampango, quite contrary to what was believed, accepted this so harsh condition; but when once the resolution of a nobleman has been declared, any alteration brings in greater distrust. Don Sabiniano sent Captain Nicolás Coronado with twenty-five soldiers, ordering him to construct a fort in Arayat, as was afterward done, and also to hasten the coming of the wife and children of Macapagal. [The mutineers send an envoy to Macapagal to secure his support, but he kills the envoy and compels his followers to turn back.] The chiefs and leaders of the mutiny were already finding that their followers had grown remiss, and the courage of those who supported them had diminished, and they despaired of the constancy of these. They were still more depressed by the news which they received of the extreme honors which the governor paid to the wife and children [149]of Don Juan Macapagal—sending them to Manila with great distinction, and entrusting them to the gallant care of General Don Francisco de Figueroa, the alcalde-mayor of Tondo—and of their entertainment and kind reception, in which they were served with a display beyond what their condition and nature required. At this demonstration the envy of the rebels guessed the superior position to which Macapagal’s fidelity would raise him, above all those of his people. By the honors paid to this chief, the governor allured the ambition of the rest, and introduced discord in order to separate by craft that body which ambition held together. Our religious availed themselves of this opportunity, and like thieves in the house, since they understood the natural disposition of the Indians, they neglected no occasion to persuade some and allure others with promises—an endeavor which, although the governor had not charged it upon them, they prosecuted with great earnestness, on account of the great risk which was incurred by the Christian church in such disturbances. All the ministers of that province accomplished much, especially the father definitors Fray José Duque and Isidro Rodríguez, also Fray Jose de Vega (the prior of Guagua), Fray Andres de Salazar, and Fray Enrique de Castro, and others—whom those natives reverenced, as their abilities deserved. Soon the results of these efforts became available; for the chief promoters of the rebellion, finding the courage of their followers so weakened, began to search for paths for their own safety. They despatched our father Fray Andrés de Salazar with a letter to Don Sabiniano, in which they alleged, as an excuse for the disturbance, the arrears of pay [150]which were due them for their services, together with the loans of their commodities which had been taken to Manila for the support of the paid soldiers; they entreated his Lordship to command that these dues be paid, so that their people, delighted with this payment and therefore laying aside their fury, could be disarmed by their chiefs and sent back to their homes. Don Sabiniano allowed himself to be influenced by the arguments which they placed before him, considering that the anger of the people is not easily quenched by resorting to another force, and so he agreed to grant them a part of what they demanded; and they were pacified by his paying some part of the debt—although the authorities must contract fresh obligations to do this, as the royal treasury was exhausted on account of not having received even the interest on the money which had been landed at a place one hundred leguas from Manila. In view of this, the governor offered them 14,000 pesos, on account of what was due them, which amounted to more than 200,000 pesos. For this he sent his secretary, General Sebastian Rayo Doria, to authorize two other commanders, Generals Juan Enriquez de Miranda and Felipe de Ugalde, to establish peace and publish the general amnesty for the past which he granted to all that people. When the writ of amnesty was drawn up, and the words were repeated to them in their own language by the amanuensis (who was one of the Pampango tribe), in reading to them these words, “In the name of his Majesty I grant pardon, for the sake of avoiding all bloodshed,” he altered the sense of this sentence, telling them the very opposite [of what it said]. Then, slipping out of the conference, he went among the crowd to tell [151]them [this false statement], and from this resulted fresh disturbances. The effect of this was the detention of our generals as prisoners, and the choice of a new head, or master-of-camp, for the mutiny, Don Nicolás Mañago—who immediately issued a proclamation that on the following day all should be on hand, with their arms ready for use. That day’s interval gave opportunity for the labors of our religious, who did everything in their power to undeceive the people and dispel the error under which they were laboring—making known to them the true meaning of the terms of the amnesty; and thereupon those timid creatures began to grow calm. Nor was the governor negligent meanwhile; for, as soon as he was informed of the condition of the generals whom he had sent, he commanded that the drums should immediately call the troops to arms, and they should move against the rebels—for his very desire for peace had made him keep his forces in readiness and at their stations; but, as a good officer, he knew that the most suitable means of securing an honorable peace is to make more formidable the preparations for war. The troops—[as yet] in peace, but well armed—were encamped very near the rebels; they traveled through the open country, as is possible in the settled part of that province (which is all rivers and bayous), conveyed in boats that were adequate for their numbers. The mountain route was taken by Captain Don Luis de Aduna and Don Sebastian Villareal with the cavalry, in order to embarrass the enemy’s retreat, and deprive them of their accustomed refuge, which is the mountains. Don Juan Macapagal, who with loyal ardor took the field in his Majesty’s service, was sent to his own [152]village of Arayat, that he might, in conjunction with the people from the farms about that village, prevent the enemy from using that route to go to Pangasinán—a matter which caused the governor much anxiety, as those natives are warlike. On the same day, at sunset, Don Sabiniano met his secretary, General Sebastian Rayo Doria, whom the rebels had sent back with entreaties, that he might delay the just wrath of his Lordship, and they accompanied these with submissions and offerings. Most of our success in quieting this second revolt is due to the many efforts made by the fathers who were ministers in that province, not only with the common rebels but with their leaders—offering to the former amnesty, and to the latter rewards, on the part of his Majesty. With only the near approach of the army, its march being directed toward the rebels, and with no other writ of requisition than its fearful reputation which threatened them with chastisement, affairs assumed another guise; and those who before looked at any plan for peace with distrust now solicited it, having lost their expectation of any more favorable arrangement.

The governor traveled with his lieutenant Francisco de Roa and several other recently appointed officials: Generals Don Felipe de Ugalde, Juan Enrique de Miranda, and Don Juan de Vergara; Admirals Don Diego Cortés and Don Felix de Herrera Robachero; Sargentos-mayor Don Pedro Tamayo, Martín Sanchez de la Cuesta, and Pedro Lozano; and Captains Don Pedro Carmona, Don Juan de Morales, Don José Cascos de Quirós, Don Alonso de las Casas, Don Alonso de Quirante, Don Gabriel Niño de Guzmán, Juan Diaz Yañez, Silvestre de Rodas. For his secretaries, he had General Sebastian Rayo Doria and Juan de Padilla. The government notaries were Captain Juan Fijado and Captain Simón de Fuentes, while the aides-de-camp were Pedro Méndez de Sotomayor and Francisco Iglesias. With this group, numbering at most 300 men, in eleven small boats and four artillery pieces, each carrying four-pound balls, Don Sabiniano began his journey. He reached the village [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] of Macabebe at six in the afternoon of the next day, having been delayed for a long time by removing the stakes with which the insurgents had blocked the river entrances. All the islands were threatened by this war, as all the tribes were waiting to see the outcome—should it turn out poorly for the Spaniards, it would greatly enhance the reputation of this [Pampango] people, and the rest would gain enough confidence that not one would pass up the chance to seek their imagined freedom. Resorting to arms was risky; regardless of whether we won or lost, Spanish power would be diminished and weakened. Even though only 200 infantry were taken from the Manila garrison for this expedition, it was essential that the ecclesiastical estate in that city, overseen by Master-of-camp Don Domingo de Ugarte, cover the shortfall. As previously mentioned, Don Sabiniano arrived at Macabebe, a wealthy and populous village in that province; he came at a critical time, as the villagers had readied their boats and weapons that very day to join the mutineers. The people of Macabebe greeted the governor with feigned friendliness, their courage waning in the face of the well-armed Spaniards, and their only concern was to hide any signs of their unrest. The governor stayed in the house of Don Francisco Salonga, the best accommodation in the village, even though Father Fray Enrique de Castro (the prior of the convent) offered him the convent, observing the courtesies due to such honored, though unexpected, guests. He also sought to keep all the women out of sight, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] so that the soldiers’ unruly behavior wouldn’t lead to new dangers. Don Sabiniano gave strict orders to the men, with severe penalties for any violators, to avoid further tarnishing the Spanish name through our faults. This unanticipated arrival changed the course of the plans made by the Macabebe natives, leading them to revoke it, pretending to be loyal; yet, those who were caught with weapons quickly concealed them to avoid raising suspicion about their recent betrayal. Don Sabiniano understood the situation well, but, pretending to be friendly and confident, he took advantage of the moment. The servile concern of the Macabebe men cast doubt on the determination of others, who in the village of Apalit removed the messages given to Don Agustin Pimintuan, the intended ambassador of the rebels conspiring in the provinces of Pangasinán and Ilocos, fearing that the messenger might give them to the governor, thereby revealing their identities among the traitors. All were fearful of the governor’s close presence, believing they were already faced with the full Spanish power, which subdued the former enthusiasm of all. It was a significant gain for Don Sabiniano to have secured the loyalty of one individual, named Don Juan Macapagal, a chief from the village of Arayat, as passing through there was necessary to reach the province of Pangasinán; and with this secured, we were relieved from the danger of the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] Indians from the two provinces potentially joining forces. Don Sabiniano wrote a letter to Don Juan Macapagal, affirming his fidelity to his Majesty and ordering the chief to come and consult with him in Macabebe. Don Juan Macapagal immediately left his home, and while passing through the rebels' camp, he went to assure Don Sabiniano of his loyalty, offering his life in service to his Majesty. Don Sabiniano treated him with great kindness and offered promises [of rewards], ensuring Macapagal’s loyalty was easily gained. Don Sabiniano made him a master-of-camp for his people and, as a pledge of his constancy, requested his children and wife under the guise of ensuring their safety from the rebels in Manila—blending trust with suspicion but masking it as a protective measure. Contrary to expectations, the Pampango accepted this harsh condition; however, once a nobleman declares a decision, any change brings about greater distrust. Don Sabiniano sent Captain Nicolás Coronado with twenty-five soldiers, ordering him to construct a fort in Arayat, which was later done, and to expedite the arrival of Macapagal’s wife and children. [The mutineers send an envoy to Macapagal to secure his support, but he kills the envoy and compels his followers to turn back.] The chiefs and leaders of the mutiny were already realizing that their followers had become complacent, and the courage of those who supported them had diminished, leading to despair over their steadfastness. They were even more disheartened by the news of the extreme honors the governor had shown to the wife and children [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] of Don Juan Macapagal—sending them to Manila with great distinction and placing them under the care of General Don Francisco de Figueroa, the alcalde-mayor of Tondo—and the lavish treatment they received, which was beyond what their status and character warranted. This display fueled jealousy among the rebels, who feared that Macapagal’s loyalty would elevate his status above that of his own people. The honors given to this chief stirred ambition in others and created discord that threatened to divide the faction united by ambition. Our religious figures seized this opportunity as if they were thieves in a house, recognizing the natural inclination of the Indians; they took every chance to persuade some and entice others with promises—even though the governor had not ordered it, because of the significant risk to the Christian church in such turmoil. The ministers in that province accomplished a lot, especially the father definitors Fray José Duque and Isidro Rodríguez, Fray Jose de Vega (the prior of Guagua), Fray Andres de Salazar, Fray Enrique de Castro, and others—who earned the respect of the locals due to their abilities. The outcomes of these efforts soon became clear; as the main instigators of the rebellion noticed their followers losing courage, they began to look for their own safety. They sent our father Fray Andrés de Salazar with a letter to Don Sabiniano, explaining that the disturbance was due to unpaid wages [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__] owed for their services, along with the goods they provided to Manila for the soldiers' support; they asked that his Lordship order these payments so that their people, satisfied with this compensation, could calm down and be sent back home by their leaders. Don Sabiniano found their arguments convincing, understanding that it’s hard to calm the people’s anger with force. He agreed to give them part of what they asked for; the situation stabilized when he paid a portion of the debt—though the authorities had to take on new obligations to do so, as the royal treasury was drained without even receiving the interest on the money that had been landed a hundred leagues from Manila. Given this, the governor offered them 14,000 pesos, against what they were owed, which totaled over 200,000 pesos. To facilitate this, he sent his secretary, General Sebastian Rayo Doria, to empower two other commanders, Generals Juan Enriquez de Miranda and Felipe de Ugalde, to establish peace and announce the general amnesty he granted to everyone. When the amnesty document was ready, and the words were repeated to them in their own language by the scribe (a member of the Pampango tribe), he recited to them, “In the name of his Majesty I grant pardon, to avoid all bloodshed,” but he twisted the meaning of this statement, stating the very opposite [of what it meant]. Then, slipping away from the meeting, he went among the crowd to tell [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_2__] them this false interpretation, causing new disturbances. As a result, our generals were taken prisoner, and a new leader, or master-of-camp, for the mutiny, Don Nicolás Mañago, was chosen—who immediately declared that everyone should be present the next day, armed and prepared. This day’s pause allowed for our religious figures, who did everything they could to clarify the situation to the people and clear up the misunderstanding they were under—explaining to them the true meaning of the amnesty terms; afterward, those who had been fearful began to calm down. Meanwhile, the governor was not idle; as soon as he learned about the situation with the generals he had sent, he ordered the drums to summon the troops to arms and moved them against the rebels—for his genuine desire for peace had prompted him to keep his forces ready and stationed. However, as a responsible officer, he understood that the best way to secure an honorable peace is to prepare for war. The troops—[still] peaceful but well-armed—camped very close to the rebels; they moved through open countryside, as was possible in the settled areas of that province (which is characterized by rivers and bayous), transported in boats suited for their numbers. Captain Don Luis de Aduna and Don Sebastian Villareal led the cavalry along the mountainous route to block the enemy’s escape and cut off their usual refuge in the mountains. Don Juan Macapagal, who loyally took the field for his Majesty, returned to his own [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_3__]village of Arayat, where he and the locals from surrounding farms would cut off the enemy's access to that route to Pangasinán—a situation that deeply concerned the governor, as those locals were known for their martial skills. On the same day, as the sun set, Don Sabiniano met with his secretary, General Sebastian Rayo Doria, whom the rebels had sent back with pleas for him to delay his Lordship's rightful anger, along with submissions and offerings. Most of our success in quelling this second revolt is credited to the many efforts made by the fathers who ministered in that province, not only with the common rebels but also with their leaders—promising the first amnesty and later rewards on behalf of his Majesty. With just the army's close approach, its march directed towards the rebels, and no other indication of their intentions other than their fearsome reputation warning of punishment, the circumstances changed; those who had previously been skeptical of any peace plan began seeking it, having lost hope for a better deal.

As Don Sabiniano understood the desire which led them, he spoke to them with affected severity, and despatched a courier to give them orders that they must immediately send him the two generals (whom they had detained to secure a settlement favorable to their fears), with their weapons, furnishings, and clothing, without a thread being missing. He said that if any one of these articles should be lacking, a duel would be enacted in honor of it, which would be satisfied [only] with the fire from weapons that were already intolerable in the hands [of the soldiers]; and that, if their valor could ill endure the [153]bridle of clemency so ill recompensed, if they did not accept it he would now proceed to exchange it for severity. At the distance of a few paces the courier met Generals Sebastian Rayo Doria and Juan Enriquez de Miranda, whom the rebels had set at liberty through the persuasions of the father ministers. As their fear was not quieted by any means whatever, they made haste to the safety which imagination suddenly presented to them; they feared that the illegal detention of the Spanish generals would add fire to our indignation. The governor, seeing our honor thus satisfied, and discretion triumphant, turned to the alcalde-mayor of that province, and told him that on the following day he must surrender to him its chief men. Those who were present looked at one another in surprise, wondering that the governor should not know the condition in which the chiefs still were, united and armed in so great a number that their submission was not to be expected at a mere summons. It is a fact that in the excuses which the chiefs had given for their resolution they cast the blame on the villages, attempting thus to confuse their own malice with [that of] the multitude. Accordingly, it was expedient that the governor should follow their usage, by making them think that he had not fathomed their purposes, so that they could not guess that he was dissimulating. The result corresponded to the ingenious scheme, skill obtaining what guile had concealed. For the chiefs, seeing that their excuses were so readily received, attempted to carry them further; and therefore at one o’clock at night they arrived, with all the people of the revolted villages, in eighty vessels, at the village of Macabebe. The military officers felt [154]anxiety, not only at their coming at a suspicious hour of the night, but at the multitude, a great impediment to negotiations for peace; in view of this the governor deferred until the next day giving them audience. But as there are cases in which confidence is safer than mistrust, especially when one is intent on giving security to distrust and calming fear, the governor commanded that all should enter his presence, and that our armada and troops should, without any outcry or demonstration of anxiety, watch very attentively the actions of these people. It was the effect of fear, which is with difficulty laid aside when conscience itself accuses, that these rebels came armed to capitulate, concealing by the submission that they tendered the cunning with which they acted. Many things have to be tolerated in an enemy when there are certain expectations of gaining one’s end. The governor overlooked their being armed, and granted what they asked; and his efforts succeeded in allaying the fears of those people. He commanded the chiefs to make the people go away, so that they might resume their industries; and, in testimony of the fidelity which their authority guaranteed in the common people, he ordered them to continue sending the men necessary for the timber-cutting for the galleons, the only source of life for these islands. The multitude gladly took their departure, and the governor, although he was victorious and armed, did not choose for that time that the chiefs who had incited the rebellion should make amends for their fault; instead, he granted them all that they asked, and afterward talked with them quite familiarly—endeavoring to convince their minds, although he saw their strength conquered at his feet. To the chiefs [155]who were humble and repentant he said: “I cannot deny that in demanding the payment of what was due you, you asked what was just; but as little can you deny that you did not ask it in a just way. Not only because, when the manner in which you act must be so costly both to yourselves and to the king, he who solicits justice by such means is the aggressor, more cruel than is justice, perverting peace and introducing war (in which this virtue [of justice] is always lacking), but because in war all the wealth that one had intended to increase is destroyed; and it is more cruel than kind to employ, in order to show anger at the wealth which recognizes a debt, what will cause the ruin of property and lives. Who has ever grown rich through war? and who has not lost in war that which in peace he held secure? Many are they who with the wealth that they possessed had not yet been able to attain the success at which they aimed; and those who had attained it were subjected to a lamentable misery—the villages burned, the countries depopulated, and their customs trampled under foot. It is not, then, justice to bring in general ruin as the price of so limited an expectation, which vanishes through the very means by which it is secured. If this mode [of obtaining what you demand] is so harsh, your purpose is no less unjust. You make an arrogant demand upon the king, when you know that he cannot pay you; and in order to expedite it you oblige him to incur greater expenses, thus doing more to render his efforts impossible. Ignorance may serve other provinces as an excuse, but not you, whom our continual intercourse with you has rendered more intelligent. You know very well the scantiness of the relief which has come [156]from Nueva España during my term of office; and you are not ignorant of the unavoidable expenses which this government is obliged to meet for the preservation of the country, which much exceed the aid received. One galleon alone demands half of the money, even when the wages and other expenses are reduced to what is absolutely necessary. The [expenses of the] fortified posts, which are paid for by all the native peoples, amount to five thousand [pesos]; while the aid [sent], averaging one year with another, hardly amounts to 5,000 pesos. The king has no other wealth than that of his vassals, and his own is in the amount that their defense requires, when the necessities of these islands are so great; for with you [Indians] he does not avail himself of this right, which is that of all kings and commonwealths. Many times have I written to his Majesty to ask that he regulate this matter; and from his clemency I am expecting the relief for which I have been so anxious, which I am sure he will furnish. Must his Majesty, since the peace of these islands and the maintenance of the faith in them are all so costly to his royal treasury, make up the omissions of the officials in Nueva España? Your patience would be greater than ours if your gratitude more quickly recognized our kindness in employing our forces for your defense, and our arms in watching over your peace. I ask you to consider, not the powerful enemies who oppose our forces, but the wretched condition in which you formerly lived without our arms—in continual wars, within even your own homes, one village against another; without liberty having two leguas of extent, and being waylaid by your own tyranny, without any [157]right save might, or further justification than deeds of violence. Let me remind you of the way in which you lived; your huts were the taller trees, like bird’s nests,33 your sleep was disturbed by the nightmare of anxiety, because danger confronted you, so near that it was no farther away than from one house to another. Cast your eyes on the Spanish infantry; consider the hardships which they endure on sea and land; and see what support they receive, only the fourth part of the wages assigned them, which still does not bring them to the condition which among your people is misery. See how they give to the king, as a loan, each year much more than this, and of much more importance—since they deprive themselves of life itself, without any opportunity remaining to them for supplying their needs. They serve as if they were slaves, and would be fortunate if we paid them as we do our servants. And finally, consider that the king taxes himself in enormous sums, for your safety and defense alone, while the rest of the nations in the world obey him and pay him tribute. They all enrich his treasures, yet he willingly lavishes these here, for you people. Understand these reasons, and you will see how little cause you had for so ungrateful a resolution. Your natives must be blamed for the ungrateful way in which they have acted, since they have shown no patience with a nation which has endured so much for you, or for its king, who has so generously spent his money for your welfare. Notify them also that I acknowledge the docility with which they have returned to their obedience, more in humility than in distrust; for I [158]would grieve much if we came to blows, since if fighting began I could not restrain the soldiers from compelling me, against my wishes, to behold your entire ruin. You know very well that there is no people in these islands who can resist their valor in the field, and no hope could render you secure [from them]. The open country [would be] clear of obstructions, the ground level, the villages wide open; and you would have to flee to the mountains, wherever necessity guided you lost creatures, or else the ashes of your villages must be mingled with those of your bodies. I have had a greater struggle with the Spanish valor, to check its ardor, than even with your thoughtlessness [in trying] to bring you to a full knowledge of your error. Now let your behavior blot out that error, since I have forgiven you for what is past; and beware that you do not repeat your faithless ingratitude.”

As Don Sabiniano understood their desire, he spoke to them with feigned sternness and sent a messenger to order them to immediately send him the two generals they had detained to secure a settlement in their favor, along with their weapons, belongings, and clothing, with nothing missing. He warned that if any of these items were lacking, a duel would be held in their honor, satisfied only with the weapons that were already intolerable in the soldiers’ hands; and if their bravery could not withstand the restraint of clemency that had been so poorly rewarded, he would proceed to substitute it with severity. A short distance away, the courier met Generals Sebastian Rayo Doria and Juan Enriquez de Miranda, whom the rebels had freed through the persuasion of the clergy. Their fear was not eased by any means, and they hastened to the safety that sprang to mind; they feared that keeping the Spanish generals captive would intensify our anger. The governor, seeing our honor satisfied and discretion prevailing, turned to the alcalde-mayor of the province and told him that the next day he must hand over its leaders. Those present looked at each other in surprise, wondering why the governor did not recognize the situation the chiefs were still in—united and armed in such great numbers that their submission could not be expected at just a summons. It was indeed true that in their excuses for their actions, the chiefs blamed the villages, trying to deflect their own guilt onto the multitude. Thus, it became necessary for the governor to act as if he did not understand their intentions, so they could not suspect that he was pretending. The outcome matched his clever scheme, as intelligence achieved what trickery had concealed. For the chiefs, seeing that their excuses were so readily accepted, decided to push their luck; and so, at one o’clock in the morning, they arrived, with all the people from the rebellious villages, in eighty boats, at the village of Macabebe. The military officers were anxious, not only because they came at such a suspicious hour but also due to the large crowd, which hindered negotiations for peace; the governor decided to postpone meeting them until the next day. However, there are times when trusting is safer than being suspicious, especially when seeking to offer security against distrust and calm fear, so the governor ordered everyone to come before him, and for our fleet and troops to silently observe the actions of these people without any sign of anxiety. It was a result of fear, which is hard to shake off when guilt is at play, that these rebels came armed to negotiate, concealing through their submission the cunning with which they acted. Many things must be tolerated from an enemy when there are certain hopes of achieving one's goals. The governor overlooked their being armed and granted what they requested, and his efforts succeeded in easing their fears. He ordered the chiefs to disperse the people so they could resume their work; and as a sign of the loyalty that their authority promised to the common people, he ordered them to continue sending the necessary men for cutting timber for the galleons, the lifeblood of these islands. The crowd left happily, and although the governor was victorious and armed, he chose not to make the chiefs who incited the rebellion atone for their wrongdoing this time; instead, he granted them all they sought and spoke to them quite casually—trying to convince them, even as he saw them weakened at his feet. To the chiefs who were humble and repentant, he said: “I cannot deny that in demanding what was owed to you, you asked for what was fair; but you cannot deny that your request was not made in a fair manner. Not only because, when your actions must be so costly both to you and to the king, he who seeks justice through such means is the real aggressor, more cruel than justice itself, disrupting peace and provoking war (in which this virtue [of justice] is always missing), but because in war, all the wealth one intended to increase is destroyed; and it is more cruel than kind to use the anger over a debt-recognizing wealth to cause ruin of property and lives. Who has ever grown rich through war? And who has not lost in war that which they held secure in peace? Many who possessed wealth had not yet achieved the success they desired; and those who had were left in lamentable misery—the villages burned, the land depopulated, and their customs trodden upon. It is not just to bring about general ruin as the price of such limited expectations, which vanish through the very means used to secure them. If this way of obtaining what you demand is so harsh, your purpose is no less unjust. You arrogantly demand from the king, knowing he cannot pay; and to speed it up, you force him to incur greater expenses, thus making his efforts even harder. Ignorance may serve as an excuse for other provinces, but not for you, as our ongoing communication has made you more aware. You know very well the little help we have received from Nueva España during my time; and you are not unaware of the unavoidable expenses this government must meet to maintain the country, which far exceed the assistance received. One galleon alone requires half of the funding, even when wages and other costs are cut to the bare minimum. The costs of the fortified posts, paid for by all the native people, amount to five thousand pesos, while the support sent here, averaged over the years, barely totals 5,000 pesos. The king has no wealth other than that of his subjects, and his is in proportion to what their defense demands, especially when the needs of these islands are so great; for with you [Indians], he cannot invoke this right, which belongs to all kings and nations. I have written to his Majesty many times asking him to address this matter; and from his kindness, I await the relief I have long sought, which I am sure he will provide. Must his Majesty, because maintaining peace and faith in these islands is so costly to his royal treasury, cover the failures of the officials in Nueva España? Your patience would be far greater than ours if your gratitude quickly recognized our kindness in defending you with our forces and ensuring your peace with our arms. I urge you to reflect, not on the powerful enemies who face our forces, but on the miserable state in which you used to live without our protection—endless wars, even among your own people, with one village fighting against another; without freedom extending two leagues, being oppressed by your own tyranny, lacking any right but might, or justification beyond acts of violence. Remember how you lived; your huts were the tallest trees, like birds' nests; your sleep was disturbed by anxiety, with danger lurking so close it was no further away than from one house to another. Look at the Spanish infantry; consider the hardships they endure at sea and on land, and see what support they receive: only a quarter of their wages, which still leaves them in a state of misery compared to your people. They give the king, as a loan, each year much more than this, and of much greater importance—since they deprive themselves of life, with no chance to meet their needs. They serve as if they were slaves and would be lucky to receive payments comparable to what we pay our servants. Finally, consider that the king taxes himself heavily for your safety and defense, while the rest of the nations, in obedience, enrich his coffers and pay him tribute. They all add to his wealth, yet he willingly spends these riches here, for you. Understand these reasons, and you will see how unjustified your resolution was. Your natives must be blamed for their ungrateful behavior, having shown no patience with a nation that has endured so much for you, or for its king, who has generously spent his resources for your benefit. Inform them also that I recognize the willingness with which they have returned to their allegiance, more in humility than in distrust; for I would deeply regret if we resorted to violence, as once fighting starts, I would not be able to hold back the soldiers from forcing me, against my wishes, to witness your total ruin. You know that no people in these islands can resist their bravery in battle, and no hope could keep you safe from them. The open countryside would be clear of obstacles, the ground flat, the villages unprotected; and you would have to flee to the mountains, wherever necessity led you lost souls, or else the remains of your villages would mix with the ashes of your bodies. I have struggled more to restrain the ardor of the Spanish than to make you understand the error of your ways. Now let your actions erase that mistake, as I have forgiven you for the past; and take care not to repeat your faithless ingratitude.”

Thus did the discreet and sagacious governor, Don Sabiniano, destroy the infernal seed that discord had sowed in the hearts of the Pampangos, alluring them with [the idea of] liberty, more potent than the apple of gold flung down at the marriage of Peleus and Thetis....

Thus did the wise and careful governor, Don Sabiniano, eliminate the evil seeds that discord had planted in the hearts of the Pampangos, tempting them with the idea of freedom, which was more powerful than the golden apple tossed down at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis....

Don Sabiniano received all their excuses with his usual affability, and in the name of his Majesty restored them to his favor and to the condition of faithful vassals, and gave them in due form, in writing, a general amnesty. He commanded the alcalde-mayor to distribute to them with exactness and care the sum which he had, by contracting new obligations, brought for their relief; and to order them in testimony of their repentance—now that he had brought them back to their former fidelity, and as [159]this outbreak had been [the result of] their anxiety, in grief rather than in rebellion—to repair, as before, with men to the wood-cutting for the construction of the ships. They asked from him time to repair their houses, and permission to attend to their cultivation of the soil; and this was granted, to their satisfaction. The affairs of the province were immediately put in order. The governor commanded Juan Camacho de la Peña to retire, and left as governor of the province General Don Francisco de Atienza y Báñez—an old soldier whose valor was equal to the wisdom gained by his experiences in the governments which he had held in these islands, in Caraga and Zamboanga—with orders that he must exercise vigilance in regard to every indication of disturbance, and by prudent action and kind treatment constrain the natives to prefer their own tranquillity.

Don Sabiniano accepted all their excuses with his usual friendliness and, on behalf of his Majesty, welcomed them back into his favor as loyal subjects. He formally gave them a general amnesty in writing. He instructed the alcalde-mayor to carefully distribute the funds he had obtained by taking on new obligations for their relief. He required them, as a sign of their remorse—now that he had restored them to their previous loyalty and recognizing that this rebellion had stemmed from their grief rather than true defiance—to send men to the woods for cutting timber for shipbuilding, just like before. They requested time to fix their homes and permission to tend to their farms, which was granted to their satisfaction. The province's affairs were quickly organized. The governor ordered Juan Camacho de la Peña to step down and appointed General Don Francisco de Atienza y Báñez as the new governor—an experienced soldier whose bravery matched the wisdom he had acquired from his previous roles in these islands, in Caraga and Zamboanga. He was instructed to be vigilant for any signs of unrest and to use wise actions and kind treatment to encourage the locals to prefer peace.

He sent a despatch by Adjutant Francisco Amaya, accompanied by seven soldiers, to the province of Pangasinán, to notify the alcalde-mayor, named Francisco Gómez Pulido, of the outcome in Pampanga, in order that he might with this example be on the alert in his own province. Don Sabiniano also ordered him to communicate this information to the alcaldes-mayor of Ilocos (Don Alonso de Peralta) and of Cagayán, and warn them to keep watch on the movements of the natives, and to endeavor that the submission of the Pampangos should confirm the others in their tranquillity. Nor was the governor content with this activity only; but he sent a sealed letter to the sargento-mayor of the royal regiment in Manila, Francisco Pedro de Quirós, with orders that he should deliver it, in a well-equipped [160]champan with twelve soldiers, to a thoroughly reliable person; and that the latter, when two leguas beyond Mariveles, should open the letter, and execute the orders that he should find therein. These were, that he should take the route to Pangasinán, and deliver the letters which he had sent to the alcalde-mayor, in which he warned him by the events in Pampanga of the danger which he had cause to suspect in the province which was in his charge, and of the watchful care that he must exercise over the actions of the natives therein; and that if any Pampangos should be dispersed through his villages—and he regarded it as certain that such had been sent, in order to form conspiracies among those natives—he should by suitable plans arrest them and send them to Manila. Having made these arrangements, the governor returned to the capital, taking in his company Don Francisco Mañago, under pretext of employing him in the office of master-of-camp for those of his tribe in that city. Under the pretext of honoring this chief, he cloaked his anxiety to remove from the sight of the Pampangos the man to whom all eyes were directed on account of his authority and power, and from whom, it was understood, their resolution took new breath; for, if their regard for peace grew weak, his prestige and authority might not be lacking for seditions—although this alone was not the sole incentive which moved them, since it was accompanied by the influence of José Celis, a native of that province, who was incited by the laws that he had learned, which had been taught to him by the auditor Don Francisco Samaniego y Cuesta, under whom he had served. At the same time he carried with him others of the more guilty, whom [161]he attracted with the hope of greater rewards; there was no discussion of other modes of satisfaction, as the occasion did not allow them.

He sent a message through Adjutant Francisco Amaya, accompanied by seven soldiers, to the province of Pangasinán, to inform the mayor, Francisco Gómez Pulido, about what happened in Pampanga, so that he could stay alert in his own province. Don Sabiniano also instructed him to share this information with the mayors of Ilocos (Don Alonso de Peralta) and Cagayán, warning them to keep an eye on the movements of the locals and to ensure that the submission of the Pampangos would reassure others in their peace. The governor didn’t stop there; he sent a sealed letter to the sargento-mayor of the royal regiment in Manila, Francisco Pedro de Quirós, instructing him to deliver it in a well-equipped [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]champan with twelve soldiers to a trustworthy person. This person was supposed to open the letter two leguas beyond Mariveles and carry out the instructions inside. These instructions were to head to Pangasinán and deliver the letters sent to the mayor, warning him about the danger suggested by the events in Pampanga and reminding him to be vigilant regarding the actions of the locals there. If any Pampangos were found among his villages—and he believed it was likely that some had been sent to stir up conspiracies—he was to devise appropriate plans to arrest them and send them to Manila. After making these arrangements, the governor returned to the capital, bringing along Don Francisco Mañago under the guise of assigning him the role of master-of-camp for his tribe in the city. By honoring this leader, he aimed to distract the Pampangos from noticing the man whose authority and power were closely watched, as it was understood that their resolve drew strength from him; if their commitment to peace faltered, his influence could potentially lead to unrest. This was not the only factor motivating them; there was also the influence of José Celis, a native of that province, who was inspired by the laws he had learned from the auditor Don Francisco Samaniego y Cuesta, under whom he had served. He also took with him others who were more guilty, whom [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]he attracted with promises of greater rewards; other forms of satisfaction were not discussed, as there was no time for that.

After the return of the governor to Manila, affairs were so skilfully arranged that the Pampangos themselves demanded that two garrisons be placed in their province, as necessary to their security—one in Lubao, to free themselves from the invasions which in that direction they are continually suffering from the blacks of the hill-country; and the other in Arayat, as a precaution against the fears which arise from the Pangasinans—and that these should be in charge of officers thoroughly satisfactory to the governor. This, the very thing that the governor desired, was quickly agreed to, and he stationed in Arayat Captain Nicolás Coronado, and in Baras (which is Lubao) Captain Juan Giménez de Escolástica, soldiers of great valor. This step was of great importance on account of the commotions (which will be considered further on) in the provinces of Pangasinán and Ilocos, the results of which were so lamentable that up to this day they have not ceased to arouse grief. Very different were they from the events in Pampanga, for in the latter province there was not experienced any death, or ravaging of churches, or burning of villages, but merely threats of disobedience to their chiefs; but in the other provinces, all these things occurred, and many of each kind.

After the governor returned to Manila, everything was arranged so well that the Pampangos themselves asked for two garrisons to be set up in their province for their protection—one in Lubao, to defend against the constant invasions from the hill country, and another in Arayat as a precaution against concerns from the Pangasinans. They requested that these garrisons be led by officers who the governor would find completely acceptable. This was precisely what the governor wanted, and it was quickly agreed upon. He assigned Captain Nicolás Coronado to Arayat and Captain Juan Giménez de Escolástica to Baras (which is Lubao), both of whom were brave soldiers. This decision was very important due to the unrest (which will be discussed further) in the provinces of Pangasinán and Ilocos, the effects of which were so devastating that they continue to evoke sorrow to this day. The situation was very different in Pampanga, where there were no deaths, no churches vandalized, and no villages burned—only threats of disobedience against their leaders. In contrast, the other provinces experienced all of these troubles, and many more.

The alcalde-mayor, Francisco Gómez Pulido, replied to the governor’s letter that the natives in his province maintained remarkable peace, and that the alcalde-mayor of Ilocos, Don Alonso Peralta, had made the same report to him; and with this the anxiety that was felt in regard to those provinces was [162]partly dissipated. But his vigilance was deceived; for in a fortnight from that time, in the village of Malunguey in the province of Pangasinán, from some slight cause was raised a sedition which compelled the alcalde-mayor to hasten out with the soldiers whom the governor had sent him in the champan. Those first disturbances were quieted, more because the fruit of rebellion was not yet matured than because other endeavors were made [by the Spaniards]. The alcalde-mayor was more easily satisfied than he should have been with the dissembled tranquillity, and sent a report of the whole affair to Manila. However much the ashes of dissimulation hid the fire, it did not fail to make its presence known, by the smoke that it sent forth, or by the flames which arose at every breath of wind. One is wont in such case to curb caution, even though he has not yet the wood ready for keeping up the fire of his strength; but if one is sure of safety without having turned over the ashes, a fire that cannot be checked will leap upon him in his sleep.

The alcalde-mayor, Francisco Gómez Pulido, responded to the governor’s letter, stating that the locals in his province were living in notable peace and that the alcalde-mayor of Ilocos, Don Alonso Peralta, had reported the same to him; this somewhat eased the concerns about those provinces [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]. However, his watchfulness was betrayed; within two weeks, in the village of Malunguey in the province of Pangasinán, a minor incident sparked a rebellion, forcing the alcalde-mayor to rush out with the soldiers the governor had sent him in the champan. Those initial troubles were subdued, more because the rebellion was not yet fully developed than due to any effective measures taken by the Spaniards. The alcalde-mayor was too easily satisfied with the apparent calm and sent a report of the entire situation to Manila. Even though the ashes of deception concealed the fire, it still made itself known through the smoke it created or the flames that flared with each gust of wind. In such cases, one tends to lower their guard, even if they don’t have the resources ready to maintain their strength; yet if one believes they are safe without checking the ashes, a fire that can’t be contained will erupt while they sleep.

The fire, covered during two months, steadily spread, through the hidden passage of the intercourse between different villages, until its effects became so serious that the alcalde-mayor Francisco Gómez Pulido was undeceived, and had to give up his groundless confidence. A spark flew over to the province of Ilocos, and left matters there ready for the operations that afterward were seen.... It took two months, as I have said, after apparent quiet was secured, to explode the mine which the faithlessness of the Pangasinans had covered, [and this occurred] with a fearful crash. On the fifteenth of December, 1660, this perilous volcano was revealed [163]in Lingayén, the chief town of that province. The reason why its effects were so long delayed was the great bulk which it had acquired through the diligence of Don Andrés Malóng, his Majesty’s master-of-camp for that tribe, a native of Binalatongan. The first proceeding of mob ferocity was to go to the house of the alguazil-mayor34 and kill him and all his family, and then set fire to his house. From here the multitude went, hoisting their sails, under the guidance of Malóng to conquer the villages—by the cruel acts of armed force gaining those who would not voluntarily have surrendered to them. Encouraged by their large following, which was hourly increasing, Malóng directed his efforts to capture by force the village of Bagnotan, one of the richest and most populous of that province, whose inhabitants had thus far refused to range themselves on the side of the traitors. The loyalty of those people proved very costly to them; for they were suddenly attacked one night by Don Andres Malóng, followed by more than four thousand rebels. They sacked the town, and after having committed many inhuman murders set fire to it, and reduced it to ashes—the voracity of the flames not sparing the convent and church, a magnificent edifice which was one of the finest that the fathers of St. Dominic possessed in that province. The father minister thought himself fortunate that he could escape with his life, fleeing on a swift horse from the barbarous cruelty of the assailants—who, on learning that the alcalde-mayor Francisco Gómez Pulido had left Lingayén in flight, flew thither on the wings of their fury. He had embarked with all his family, and with the soldiers whom the governor [164]had sent him, in the champan of a ship-master named Juan de Campos; but, as unfortunately they could not pass over that bar on account of the ebb-tide, they had to wait for high tide, and this gave the insurgents time to arrive. Attempting to attack the champan, they found such resistance from the firearms of those within it that they had to curb their first fury; but they were soon freed from this hindrance by the malicious cunning of some Sangleys, who imparted to them a scheme for success. This was, to cover some small boats with many branches of trees, when they could safely attack those on the champan—which plan they carried out so effectively that a great number of little boats in entire safety made an assault on the champan. Those who were in it could make no resistance to such a multitude, and were all put to the sword—among them the alcalde-mayor, who did wonderful things in the defense, until, covered with wounds from arrows and javelins, and faint from loss of blood, his strength failed. The rebels killed his wife, who had recently become a mother, and his sister-in-law, a young girl, and all those in his service—soldiers, servants, and other people—no one being able to escape from this barbarous cruelty except a little girl and a little boy (the latter only a few days old), the children of the alcalde-mayor. Their lives were saved by the efforts of a friendly Indian from the village of Binalatongan; Don Sabiniano afterward rewarded him, and gave the girl an encomienda for the services rendered by her father. With this deed, which seemed a victory to Don Andrés Malóng, he persuaded himself that he had closed the account with the entire Spanish nation, his arrogant confidence believing [165]that the Spaniards would not return there on account of their punctilious regard for honor. Carried away by his vanity, he caused himself to be acclaimed king of Pangasinán, with much drinking of wine; and he bestowed the title of Conde on Don Pedro Gumapos, a native of the village of Agoo. In order to perpetuate by might his new but tyrannical dignity, he summoned to his aid the Zambal tribe—a people who know no more civilized mode of life than the savage abode of the mountains and rocks; and without recognizing any one as king save him who, most barbarous of all, distinguishes himself as most courageous. They accepted the invitation, attracted more by the desire to plunder than by friendship, a relation which they recognize with no one. With this succor, Malóng easily persuaded himself that he was invincible; his arrogance therefore led him to send letters to all the chiefs of the provinces of Ilocos and Cagayán, commanding that they immediately acknowledge him as their lord, and slay all the Spaniards whom they might find in those provinces, unless they wished to experience chastisement from his power. He sent other letters, similar to these, to Pampanga, and especially to Don Francisco Mañago; these were seized from the messengers by the wary artifice, inspired by loyalty, of an Indian, a native of Magalang, who offered to the messengers to place the letters safely in the hands of Don Francisco Mañago. He delivered them to the commandant of the fort at Arayat, Captain Nicolás Coronado, who without delay sent them to the governor, who received them on the twentieth of the same month of December. When he opened these, he found that their contents were, in brief, to tell [166]Don Francisco Mañago that, if he did not undertake to arouse the province of Pampanga to take sides with Malóng, killing the Spaniards who were found therein, he would send for the chastisement of that province Don Melchor de Vera, with six thousand men who were already under his command. This assertion was not a false one; for so great was the multitude of adherents who were coming to him—some attracted by the novelty, others by their eagerness for plunder, and others by inconstancy or fear—that he was able to divide his men into three parts. To Don Melchor de Vera he gave orders to descend on Pampanga with six thousand men, and conquer the villages; to Don Pedro Gumapos he assigned three thousand Pangasinans and Zambals, with orders to reduce the provinces of Ilocos and Cagayán; and he himself was left with two thousand men, to furnish aid wherever necessity required it.

The fire, hidden for two months, spread steadily through the secret connections between different villages until its consequences became so serious that the alcalde-mayor, Francisco Gómez Pulido, was disillusioned and had to let go of his unfounded confidence. A spark jumped over to the province of Ilocos, setting the stage for the events that followed... It took two months, as I mentioned, after a false calm was established, for the mine, hidden by the betrayal of the Pangasinans, to explode with a terrifying bang. On December 15, 1660, this dangerous volcano erupted in Lingayén, the main town of that province. The reason for the delay in its effects was the immense power it had gained through the efforts of Don Andrés Malóng, the master-of-camp for that tribe and a native of Binalatongan. The first act of mob violence was to go to the house of the alguazil-mayor and kill him and his family, then set fire to his home. From there, the crowd, led by Malóng, set out to conquer the villages—using brutal force to take those who would not willingly surrender. Motivated by their growing numbers, Malóng focused on capturing the village of Bagnotan, one of the richest and most populated in the province, whose residents had so far refused to side with the traitors. The loyalty of those people cost them dearly; they were suddenly attacked one night by Don Andres Malóng, accompanied by more than four thousand rebels. They looted the town, committed many horrific murders, set it ablaze, and reduced it to ashes— the flames consuming even the convent and church, a magnificent structure that was one of the finest belonging to the fathers of St. Dominic in that province. The father minister felt fortunate to escape with his life, fleeing on a fast horse from the brutal attackers—who, upon learning that alcalde-mayor Francisco Gómez Pulido had fled Lingayén, rushed there in their fury. He had boarded a ship’s small boat with his entire family and the soldiers sent by the governor, but unfortunately, they couldn’t cross the reef due to low tide and had to wait for high tide, which provided the insurgents time to arrive. When they attempted to attack the small boat, they were met with strong resistance from the firearms of those aboard and had to hold back their initial rage; but they soon found a way around this obstacle thanks to the cunning of some Sangleys, who provided them with a successful plan. This involved covering small boats with branches, allowing them to safely attack those in the small boat—which they executed so well that a large number of small boats launched a surprise attack. Those onboard could offer no resistance to such a crowd and were all killed—among them the alcalde-mayor, who fought valiantly until, covered in wounds from arrows and javelins, he succumbed from blood loss. The rebels killed his wife, who had recently given birth, and his sister-in-law, a young girl, along with all those in his service—soldiers, servants, and others—with no one escaping the brutal violence except a little girl and a baby boy (who was just a few days old), the alcalde-mayor’s children. Their lives were saved by a friendly Indian from Binalatongan; Don Sabiniano later rewarded him and granted the girl a land grant for her father's services. With this event, which felt like a victory to Don Andrés Malóng, he convinced himself that he had settled the score with the entire Spanish nation, arrogantly believing that the Spaniards wouldn’t return due to their strict code of honor. Fueled by vanity, he had himself proclaimed king of Pangasinán, celebrating with plenty of wine, and gave the title of Count to Don Pedro Gumapos, a native of Agoo. To solidify his new but tyrannical rule, he sought the help of the Zambal tribe—a people familiar only with a savage lifestyle in the mountains and rocks; and they recognized no king except the most brutal, who distinguished himself through courage. They accepted his invitation, more drawn by the prospect of plunder than by friendship, a relationship they acknowledge with no one. With this support, Malóng was easily convinced he was invincible; thus, his pride led him to send letters to all the chiefs of the provinces of Ilocos and Cagayan, demanding they immediately acknowledge him as their lord and kill all Spaniards they might encounter in those provinces, or face his wrath. He sent similar letters to Pampanga, specifically to Don Francisco Mañago; these were intercepted by an Indian from Magalang, loyal to the Spanish, who offered to deliver the letters safely to Don Francisco Mañago. He handed them over to Captain Nicolás Coronado, the commandant of the fort at Arayat, who promptly sent them to the governor, who received them on December 20 of that month. When he opened them, he found that their contents essentially told Don Francisco Mañago that if he did not incite the province of Pampanga to side with Malóng and kill the Spaniards there, Don Melchor de Vera would be sent for the punishment of that province with six thousand men already under his command. This was no false claim; the number of supporters rallying to him—some drawn by novelty, others by a desire for loot, and still others by fear or indecision—was so great that he could divide his forces into three groups. He ordered Don Melchor de Vera to descend on Pampanga with six thousand men to conquer the villages; he assigned three thousand Pangasinans and Zambals to Don Pedro Gumapos, instructing them to subjugate the provinces of Ilocos and Cagayan; while he retained two thousand men for aid wherever it was needed.

This information was received by the governor without surprise, as if he had been expecting it; and on that very afternoon he despatched, to fortify the post at Arayat, Captain Silvestre de Rodas—an old soldier of experience and reputation in many encounters, in which his valor always obtained the advantage over the enemy. The governor gave him fifty infantry, so that in case Don Melchor de Vera arrived with the rebel army he could maintain his position, going out to encounter them until the arrival of General Francisco de Esteybar with the Spanish army. The latter was on the same day appointed commander-in-chief of the troops and lieutenant of the governor and captain-general, with all the body of soldiers who, under the pressure of necessity, could be detached from the scanty garrison of [167]Manila. On the same day Don Sabiniano appointed, as commander of the armed fleet which he resolved to equip and despatch against the rebels, General Felipe de Ugalde—a man of unusual prudence, and distinguished by heroic deeds in the army of Ternate, where he was sargento-mayor. To this he added a commission as commander-in-chief of Pangasinán and Ilocos, in order that he might be able to act independently, wherever he might be, and, in the lack of a governor for those provinces, carry out their pacification through their fear of punishment. In this army went the following officers: Sargento-mayor Diego de Morales, and Captains Simón de Fuentes, Alonso Castro, Juan de San Martín, Don Juan de Morales, Don Juan Francisco. In it were also the company of Merdicas (who are Malays), and their master-of-camp Cachil Duco, the prince of Tidori; Don Francisco García; the company of creole negroes,35 with their master-of-camp Ventura Meca; and the Japanese of Dilao. They had four pieces of artillery, which carried four-libra balls.

This information reached the governor without surprise, as if he had been expecting it. That very afternoon, he sent Captain Silvestre de Rodas to strengthen the outpost at Arayat—an experienced soldier known for his reputation in numerous battles, where his courage always gained the upper hand against the enemy. The governor assigned him fifty infantry soldiers, so that if Don Melchor de Vera arrived with the rebel army, he could hold his ground and confront them until General Francisco de Esteybar arrived with the Spanish forces. On the same day, General Francisco de Esteybar was appointed as the commander-in-chief of the troops and served as the lieutenant of the governor and captain-general, with all the soldiers that could be allocated from the limited garrison of [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Manila due to necessity. Also on that day, Don Sabiniano appointed General Felipe de Ugalde, a man known for his wisdom and legendary actions in the Ternate army, as the commander of the armed fleet he planned to assemble and send against the rebels. He also gave Ugalde a commission as commander-in-chief of Pangasinán and Ilocos, so he could operate independently wherever he was and, in the absence of a governor for those provinces, enforce their pacification through the threat of punishment. The army included the following officers: Sargento-mayor Diego de Morales, and Captains Simón de Fuentes, Alonso Castro, Juan de San Martín, Don Juan de Morales, and Don Juan Francisco. It also comprised the company of Merdicas (who are Malays) and their master-of-camp Cachil Duco, the prince of Tidori; Don Francisco García; the company of Creole Negroes,35 led by their master-of-camp Ventura Meca; and the Japanese from Dilao. They had four pieces of artillery that fired four-pound balls.

On December 22 General Esteybar began the march by land; on the twenty-fourth General Don Felipe de Ugalde set out by sea, with four champans and under their protection a joanga. With the former went two hundred infantry, and other troops of all nationalities, Japanese and Merdicas; while Ugalde took seventy Spaniards and some thirty Pampangos—with Captains Don Alonso Quirante, Don Juan de Guzmán, Juan Díaz Yáñez, [168]Don Diego de Lemos; the adjutant Diego Sánchez de Almazán, Miguel Roldan, and Cristobal Romero; Captains Nicolás Blanco and Lorenzo Coronado. Ugalde carried orders to land at Lingayén, the chief town in the jurisdiction of Pangasinán, and fortify a post from which he could inflict injury on the enemy. This was compassed by the activity of General Ugalde; for, having stationed a force in Bolinao, he assured [the loyalty of] that village,36 which had been doubtful. Although those natives had not yet committed the cruelties of those of Pangasinán, they carried out the orders sent them by Malóng; and they had captured a Spanish woman, and slain a Spaniard named Pedro Saraspe, the collector for Bolinao—which was an encomienda of Admiral Pedro Duran Monforte—and had sent his head to Don Andrés Malóng. General Ugalde quieted all their fear of the chastisement which they saw threatening their heads, and, placing the government of the village in the hands of a chief who had shown himself most steadfast in loyalty, Don Luis Sorriguen, he left Bolinao secured for the service of his Majesty. Then he pursued his way, and came in sight of the bar at Lingayén on January 6, 1661; although he strove, at the risk of his armada, [169]to enter it against the severity of the storm that opposed him, the weather prevailed, and compelled him to make port two leguas to leeward of the bar, at Suali. He sent the joanga (which is an oared vessel) to make soundings at the bar, with orders to summon him by signals, so that he could approach with this opportunity near enough to reconnoiter the fortifications of the rebels. He discovered a large crowd of people, who made him no other reply than that of bullets and arrows; and he observed the haste with which they were building fortifications, working behind a shelter which they had made of gabions. The foresight of the general suspected that they had not closed the bar against him, and he again strove, although without avail, to enter it on the eighth of the same month. Then, seeing that the weather was steadily becoming more favorable to the enemy, he proposed to assault the village by land. This idea of his was opposed by all the military leaders, and he therefore had to repeat his attempt by sea, on the ninth; but they had hardly set sail when they encountered a messenger from the minister of Lingayén, Father Juan Camacho,37 of the Order of St. Dominic. He informed them that the usurping “king,” Malóng, had despatched soldiers with orders to cut off the head of the governor of that village, named Don Pedro Lombey, to burn the church, and to carry the religious as prisoners to him at Binalatongan, [170]where he was waiting far them; for with this severity he expected to compel the few people whom that governor and the religious were keeping peaceable, to take sides with his faction. At the same time, that religious related the grievous injuries, the plundering of property, and the burning of buildings, that had been inflicted by the cruelty of the insurgents, and those which must result if the above order were carried out; for then that village and the Christian church which had been maintained under its protection would be finally destroyed.

On December 22, General Esteybar started the land march; on the twenty-fourth, General Don Felipe de Ugalde set off by sea with four champans and a joanga under their protection. With Esteybar were two hundred infantry and other troops of various nationalities, including Japanese and Americans. Ugalde took seventy Spaniards and about thirty Pampangos, including Captains Don Alonso Quirante, Don Juan de Guzmán, Juan Díaz Yáñez, Don Diego de Lemos, Adjutant Diego Sánchez de Almazán, Miguel Roldan, and Cristobal Romero, along with Captains Nicolás Blanco and Lorenzo Coronado. Ugalde was ordered to land at Lingayén, the main town in Pangasinán, and set up a post to attack the enemy. He achieved this by quickly securing Bolinao, ensuring the village's loyalty, which had been uncertain. Although the natives hadn't yet committed the same atrocities as those in Pangasinán, they had followed orders from Malóng, capturing a Spanish woman and killing a Spaniard named Pedro Saraspe, the collector for Bolinao, an encomienda of Admiral Pedro Duran Monforte, whose head they sent to Don Andrés Malóng. General Ugalde calmed their fears about the punishment they faced and appointed Don Luis Sorriguen, a loyal chief, to govern the village, thereby securing Bolinao for the service of his Majesty. He then continued onward and saw the bar at Lingayén on January 6, 1661. Despite risking his fleet to enter against the fierce storm, the weather forced him to take port two leagues downwind at Suali. He sent the joanga, an oared vessel, to check the bar, ordering them to signal him so he could approach close enough to assess the rebels' fortifications. He noticed a large crowd, who responded only with bullets and arrows, and observed how quickly they were building fortifications, working behind a shelter made of gabions. The general's foresight indicated they hadn't completely blocked the bar against him, and he attempted to enter again on the eighth of the month, but to no avail. Seeing that the conditions were increasingly favorable for the enemy, he planned to attack the village by land. However, all the military leaders opposed this idea, so he had to try again by sea on the ninth. But just as they set sail, they met a messenger from the minister of Lingayén, Father Juan Camacho, of the Order of St. Dominic. He informed them that the usurper "king," Malóng, had sent soldiers to behead the village governor, Don Pedro Lombey, to burn the church, and to capture the clergy and take them to him at Binalatongan, where he was waiting for them. Malóng expected that this brutality would force the few people the governor and the clergy were keeping peaceful to join his side. At the same time, the priest reported the severe injuries, looting of property, and destruction of buildings caused by the insurgents' cruelty, warning that if the orders were executed, the village and the Christian church under its protection would be completely destroyed.

General Ugalde immediately formed another resolution, without submitting it to the opinions of other men; since in critical moments, when reputation and the common welfare are at stake, such opinions serve rather as a hindrance than as an advantage to success. He commanded the infantry to disembark, without allowing them to take with them anything save their weapons. He despatched the armada in charge of Captain Don Diego de Lemos, commanding him to contend once more against the severity of the elements [for an entrance to the river], and, if he could not overcome their hostility, to return to the harbor, and there await the result and new orders. He ordered the adjutant, Diego Sánchez de Almanzán, to enter the river with the joanga, at all risks, as its passage was so important for the security of the people against the enemy, who were awaiting them on the other side; and told him that if the joanga should be wrecked they would find him and his troops at a post convenient for securing the people from invasion by the enemy. Ugalde divided his soldiers into three bodies; one of these went ahead as vanguard, under command of Captain [171]Miguel Rendón. The battalion was given to Captain Cristobal Romero, and the rearguard to Captain Juan Díaz Yáñez. Captains Nicolás Blanco and Lorenzo Coronado were sent forward with some arquebusiers, to reconnoitre the field. The general gave public orders to the men of the rearguard to shoot the first soldier who should retreat from his post. He was awaited at the bar by the forces of the insurgents, who supposed that he had come in the champans which they saw endeavoring to occupy the bar. By this precaution he took them by surprise, so little ready for it that, seeing themselves assailed and the drums sounding the call to arms behind them on the land, this second danger so terrified them that their defensive array was thrown into confusion; and their fear giving them no leisure for other plans, it sent them headlong and dispersed them in precipitate flight. The army of Ugalde arrived at the river without encountering the enemy, at four in the afternoon, and continuing the march, he entered the village of Lingayén at sunset, with all his men. The only persons whom he found alive there were the father ministers and four chiefs; but they saw in front of the royal buildings, impaled on stakes, the heads of Alcalde-mayor Francisco Gómez Pulido, Nicolás de Campos, Pedro Saraspe, and the wife and the sister-in-law of Pulido—which the rebels, in their confusion, could not hide. When those people rebel, and see that they involve themselves in danger, they try to lead the rest to engage in destruction, in order thus to persuade the rabble and those who are easily deluded that, if they remain in the villages, they expose themselves to the blows of the vengeance which will be executed on those whom the sword encounters. [172]For the same reason, they try to burn the churches and kill the priests, thinking that with such atrocious deeds the crime becomes general, even though it has been committed by only a few. Thus fear, which so easily finds place in their pusillanimous natures, drives them to flee as fugitives; and necessity makes them take refuge with those who are traitors, fearing their cruelties. It was this that had caused most [of the people of Lingayén] to flee, since their hands were free from such crimes. On the same night when General Ugalde arrived, four agents of Don Andrés Malóng came, in accordance with the warning of Father Camacho which had hastened the general’s decision; they came to set fire to the church and seize the religious; and, as they did not find the men whom they had left in defense of the bar, or any one of their faction in the village who could warn them in time, they easily fell into the power of Ugalde’s men. He immediately ordered that their heads should be cut off and suspended from hooks on the road to Binalatongan, in order that these might be tokens of the severity that would be experienced by those who were stubborn in their rebellion. By this means General Felipe de Ugalde so quickly pushed his good fortune that when the military commander-in-chief arrived, which was on January 17, only two villages in the entire province of Pangasinán, those of Malunguey and Binalatongan, persisted in their rebellion; and most of the inhabitants of the villages had returned to their homes, remaining in their shelter and peace.

General Ugalde quickly made another decision without getting input from others. During critical moments, when reputation and the well-being of everyone are at stake, opinions can be more of a hindrance than a help in achieving success. He ordered the infantry to disembark, telling them they could only bring their weapons. He sent the fleet under Captain Don Diego de Lemos, instructing him to brave the harsh conditions again [to access the river] and, if he couldn't handle the challenges, to head back to the harbor and wait for further orders. He directed his adjutant, Diego Sánchez de Almanzán, to take the joanga into the river at all costs since its passage was vital for protecting the people from the enemy waiting on the other side. He assured him that if the joanga was wrecked, they would find him and his troops at a secure location to protect the people from invasion. Ugalde split his soldiers into three groups; one group moved ahead as the vanguard, led by Captain [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Miguel Rendón. Captain Cristobal Romero took command of the battalion, and Captain Juan Díaz Yáñez led the rear guard. Captains Nicolás Blanco and Lorenzo Coronado were sent ahead with some arquebusiers to scout the area. The general publicly ordered the rear guard to shoot the first soldier who fled his post. The insurgent forces were waiting for him at the bar, thinking he had arrived in the champans trying to seize the area. This tactic caught them by surprise, so unprepared that, when they found themselves attacked and heard drums calling them to arms behind them, this second threat terrified them, causing their defensive formation to fall into disarray. Their panic left them no time to think of other plans, driving them into a hasty and chaotic retreat. Ugalde's army reached the river without encountering the enemy at four in the afternoon and continued onward, entering the village of Lingayén at sunset with all his men. The only survivors they found were the local priests and four chiefs; however, in front of the royal buildings, they saw the heads of Alcalde-mayor Francisco Gómez Pulido, Nicolás de Campos, Pedro Saraspe, and the wife and sister-in-law of Pulido impaled on stakes, a gruesome sight the rebels couldn’t hide amidst their confusion. When people rebel and realize they’re in danger, they often try to drag others into their destruction to convince the easily swayed that staying in their villages puts them at risk from the vengeance directed at those who engage with the sword. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] For this reason, they also try to burn churches and kill priests, believing such horrific acts make the crime widespread, even if only a few commit them. Fear, easily found in their cowardly natures, drives them to flee as fugitives, while necessity forces them to seek refuge with traitors to escape their brutality. This is why most of the people of Lingayén had fled, as they had no involvement in such crimes. On the same night General Ugalde arrived, four agents of Don Andrés Malóng came, following the warning from Father Camacho that had pushed the general to act quickly. Their goal was to fire up the church and capture the religious leaders; however, they found neither the men they had left to defend the bar nor anyone from their group in the village who could alert them in time, leading to their easy capture by Ugalde’s men. He immediately ordered their heads be chopped off and hung from hooks along the road to Binalatongan as a warning of the harsh consequences for those stubbornly remaining in rebellion. This swift action allowed General Felipe de Ugalde to move so quickly with his good fortune that by the time the military commander-in-chief arrived on January 17, only two villages in the entire province of Pangasinán, Malunguey and Binalatongan, were still rebelling; most villagers had returned to their homes, remaining safe and at peace.

The commander-in-chief, Francisco de Esteybar, although he at first set out by land, was detained for some time because he halted at Arayat, to wait for [173]the Pampango troops who were being levied for this campaign—until on the sixth day he was constrained to begin the march by the news which he received about the natives of Magalang, the furthest village in Pampanga, by a chief from Porac named Don Andrés Manacuil. This man had been snared and captured by Malóng, with eleven companions who were lying dead from lance-thrusts, and he alone had escaped. He declared that Don Melchor de Vera was approaching with an army of six thousand Pangasinans, and that they would reach that village on the following day; that it was not strong enough to resist the enemy, and therefore it would be necessary for the Spaniards, unless they received reënforcements, to abandon the village and take refuge in the mountains. The general’s reply was prompt action; he gave the signal to march with all the energy and promptness that the emergency demanded, and on the same day reached Magalang, at nightfall. There he learned that the rebel army had lodged that night at Macaulo, a hamlet two leguas distant. Francisco de Esteybar proposed to push ahead, but this was opposed by the leading officers, on account of the men being exhausted with marching all day long. The cavalry captain Don Luis de Aduna offered to go, with the freshest of the men, proceeding until he encountered the enemy, so as to ascertain how strong they were, and doing them what damage he could. The commander-in-chief gladly accepted the offer, and, adding a detachment of thirty foot-soldiers to the cavalry troop, he despatched them very quickly. The enemy Don Melchor de Vera came to meet the army, ignorant and unsuspecting that he would find it so near and in the [174]field; and the night, the fatigue of his men, and the present hostile attitude of the people, rendered futile the activities of his spies. The troop of Don Luis de Aduna marched in good order, and, although he sent forward men to explore the road, when daylight came he found himself in the midst of the enemy, who were stretched out in a pleasant open field—nearly all of them lying on the ground, either from their natural sloth or overcome by sleep. The Pangasinans raised an alarm, uttering a loud shout, a signal with which all these peoples begin their battles, in order to arouse their own courage and weaken that of the enemy; but such was not the effect of their activity on this occasion, for apprehension awoke, without enlivening their courage, and, their fear of unforeseen danger prevailing, it made them run away in disorderly flight from the perils that they dreaded. As for our men—whether the horses, frightened by the unaccustomed shouting, could not be held in by the curb; or their riders, at sight of that frightful multitude armed, felt the natural effect in their hearts; or their ears were deafened by the hideous shouts, of for some other reason—the cavalry of the squadron turned their backs, with the same haste as did the enemy, without either side waiting to prove the danger with their weapons. Who doubts that Don Luis de Aduna, already informed of the multitude of those whom he was going to seek, had carefully considered the hazard? But it is not the same thing to look at the danger from afar, and to consider it while in the midst of it, if the leader has known danger beforehand from similar experiences. If he had fought in other campaigns, he would have known that mere numbers do not make these peoples [175]more valiant; for they do not know how to wage war except in their ambuscades, where they are quite safe, and in the open field they cannot, for lack of military discipline, maintain battle for an instant. At last the cavalry arrived in safety at the camp, to report to their commander, General Francisco de Esteybar, without having accomplished anything worthy of note.

The commander-in-chief, Francisco de Esteybar, initially set out by land but was delayed for a while as he waited at Arayat for the Pampango troops who were being gathered for this campaign. On the sixth day, he felt pressure to start marching due to news he received about the natives of Magalang, the furthest village in Pampanga, from a chief from Porac named Don Andrés Manacuil. This man had been captured by Malóng along with eleven companions who were dead from lance wounds, and he was the only one to escape. He reported that Don Melchor de Vera was coming with an army of six thousand Pangasinans and would arrive at that village the next day; it wasn't strong enough to resist the enemy, so the Spaniards would need to abandon it and take refuge in the mountains unless they received reinforcements. The general quickly took action, signaling to march with all the urgency required, and reached Magalang that night. There he learned that the rebel army had camped at Macaulo, a village two leguas away. Francisco de Esteybar wanted to push forward, but the leading officers disagreed due to the fatigue of the men after a long day of marching. Cavalry captain Don Luis de Aduna volunteered to go ahead with the freshest men to assess the enemy's strength and inflict some damage. The commander-in-chief happily accepted, adding a detachment of thirty infantry soldiers to the cavalry and dispatching them quickly. Don Melchor de Vera unknowingly marched towards the army, unaware that it was so close, and the night, the exhaustion of his men, and the hostile mood of the locals hindered his spies. Don Luis de Aduna’s troops marched in good order, and although he sent scouts ahead, by daylight, they found themselves surrounded by the enemy, who were sprawled out in a nice open field—many of them lying down, either due to laziness or fatigue. The Pangasinans raised an alarm with loud shouts, a battle signal meant to boost their morale and intimidate the enemy; however, this time it only caused panic instead of courage, and fearing unforeseen danger, they fled in disarray. As for our men—whether the horses were startled by the unfamiliar shouting and couldn't be controlled, or the riders were overwhelmed by the sight of such a vast armed crowd, or if the terrible shouts deafened them, for whatever reason, the cavalry turned and ran just as quickly as the enemy did, with neither side waiting to test their weapons. Who can doubt that Don Luis de Aduna, already aware of the large number of his opponents, had considered the risks? But it’s one thing to assess danger from a distance and quite another to be in the midst of it. A leader who has faced danger before knows this well. If he had fought in other campaigns, he would have realized that having numbers alone doesn’t make these people braver; they only know how to fight from ambushes, where they feel safe, and in open fields, they lack the military discipline to hold a battle for even a moment. In the end, the cavalry returned safely to camp, reporting to their commander, General Francisco de Esteybar, without having achieved anything significant.

The commander, not only to proceed with the foresight which the remoteness of the country and the laborious march required, but to make sure that the enemy’s army should not leave Pampanga, waited there a week, going round a hill opposite, which had a spring on the other side. Don Melchor de Vera, although he had seen his own men take to flight, as he saw that our soldiers did the same thing, attributed to his own valor that panic of terror of which the incidents are perhaps noted among the barbarous exploits of these peoples, in recording the events of war in these islands. Don Melchor de Vera returned to the presence of his [superior, the] usurping king, and assured him that he had left the Spaniards conquered, and cut off the heads of three hundred of them and more than a thousand Pampangos, without losing a single man of his own. But all the exploit that he had performed was to cut off the heads of three Indians from the village of Cambuy (a visita of Arayat), whom Don Juan Macapagal had sent on business to the village of Telbán; their bodies were found this side of the village of Paniqui. What these peoples gain easily they regard with credulity and confidence; accordingly they supposed that the failure of the Spaniards to follow them was a recognition of their power. This delay, which [176]they attributed to fear, gave them assurance; and as General Felipe de Ugalde had not yet set his troops in motion for Lingayén, they all considered themselves safe, and talked of following up their enterprise, to which they were led by their eagerness to make an actual raid on the province of Ilocos; for it was rich in gold, and its inhabitants had little courage. They were encouraged to this by the favorable result of the raid which “Conde” Don Pedro Gurcapos had effected a few days before, although he only went as far as Bauang; but now, with their troops still further reënforced, they wished to go as far as Cagayán, to stir up the minds of those natives, so that, if they succeeded, they could induce those people to join them. For this purpose, they detached from the best troops of the rebel army as many as four thousand men, Zambals and Pangasinans, and placed them under command of Don Jacinto Macasiag, a native of Binalatongan, for the new conquest—which they supposed would be very easy, as the minds of some of the chiefs there, with whom they had held correspondence, were prepared for it.

The commander, not only needing to plan ahead due to the remote terrain and challenging march, but also to ensure that the enemy's army wouldn't escape Pampanga, stayed there for a week, circling a hill across from a spring on the other side. Don Melchor de Vera, despite having witnessed his own men flee, believed his courage was the reason our soldiers did the same. This panic, noted alongside the brutal actions of these people during wartime in the islands, seemed to reflect on him. Don Melchor de Vera returned to the presence of his usurping king and insisted that he had left the Spaniards defeated and claimed to have decapitated over three hundred of them and more than a thousand Pampangos without losing any of his own men. However, his actual accomplishment was the beheading of three Indians from the village of Cambuy (a visita of Arayat), whom Don Juan Macapagal had sent on business to the village of Telbán; their bodies were discovered near the village of Paniqui. What these people acquire easily, they regard with naive confidence; thus, they believed that the Spaniards' failure to pursue them was due to their own strength. This delay, which they attributed to fear, gave them confidence, and since General Felipe de Ugalde had not yet moved his troops toward Lingayén, they felt secure and began talking about extending their campaign, driven by their eagerness to raid the province of Ilocos, which was rich in gold and had timid inhabitants. They were motivated by the successful raid that “Conde” Don Pedro Gurcapos had conducted a few days earlier, even though he only ventured as far as Bauang; now, with even more reinforcements, they wanted to reach Cagayán to stir the locals' sentiments, hoping that if they succeeded, they could rally those people to join them. To achieve this, they detached as many as four thousand of the best troops from the rebel army, Zambals and Pangasinans, and placed them under the command of Don Jacinto Macasiag, a native of Binalatongan, for the new conquest, which they assumed would be quite easy since some of the local chiefs they had contacted were already inclined to their cause.

Soon Don Andrés Malóng repented of having separated so large a number of troops from the main body of his army, when, on the ninth of January, General Ugalde gave the signal for hostilities by way of Lingayén; and on the seventeenth of the same month the commander, Francisco de Esteybar, came unexpectedly with all the strength of the Spanish army. The rebels of Binalatongan had torn down and burned the bridge, which was built of planks—a difficulty which might prove an obstacle to the courage of Francisco de Esteybar; but a courageous [177]soldier named Cristóbal de Santa Cruz, with two bold Merdicas, made the crossing easy. The latter leaped into the water, swimming, and the Spaniard walked upon their shields or bucklers; and in this way, fastening together all the logs and bamboos that they could collect, they made a raft large enough to transport on it the infantry. Malóng sent to summon Don Melchor de Vera, and in the interval, urged on more by the fear arising from their guilt than by the number of the Spanish soldiery (which, compared with that of the rebels, was much smaller), all the rebels took refuge in Binalatongan; but this did not last them long, for the two generals, having united their forces, marched forward to attack them and thus end the war at once. Don Andrés Malóng, having been informed of this intention, would not wait to confront the chances of fortune. He set fire to the village of Binalatongan, and plundered it of everything; and he burned the church and convent, the images of the saints which were therein becoming the prey of that barbarous multitude, who trampled on them and broke them in pieces, venting on, these figures of the saints the fury and madness which obliged them to retreat to the mountains. This they did in such haste that many fell into the hands of the soldiers whom the commander-in-chief, observing their flight, quickly sent for this purpose. The main body of the troops—not only the cavalry but the infantry—followed the rebels, as far as the ground allowed them to, killing, while the pursuit lasted, more than five hundred Zambals and rebels. After this the army not being able to continue the pursuit, returned to Lingayén in order to aid the other provinces wherever necessity might require. [178]Soon afterward, troops of Indians began arriving, to cast themselves at the feet of the commander-in-chief, entreating pardon; and he in virtue of the powers with which he had been invested, detained those whom he considered guilty, and allowed the rest to go to their villages. The natives, in order to check the just wrath of the Spaniards, thought best to offer themselves to bring in Don Andrés Malóng a prisoner; and Francisco de Esteybar, having learned where this man had concealed himself—which was in a forest between Bagnotan and Calasiao—sent Captain Simon de Fuentes and Alférez Alonso de Alcántara with sixty soldiers, fifteen Spaniards, with fifteen Merdicas and creoles, and Sargento-mayor Pedro Machado of Ternate and some Pangasinans, who served as guides. They found the hut of Don Andrés Malóng, where they arrested him and his mother, Beata de Santo Domingo; they also took away a girl of ten years, a sister-in-law of Francisco Pulido, whom he had kept a captive for the purpose of marrying her. They found a large quantity of gold, pearls, and silver, which Malóng had taken with him. Carrying him to Binalatongan, they placed him in prison, under close guard. It is quite worth while to note what happened to Don Francisco de Pacadua, one of the principal rebels, who in this farce played the role of judge to the king Don Andrés Malóng. They had carried him a prisoner to Binalatongan; and, as he was very rich he formed a plan to escape from the prison by bribing the guards with much gold. He succeeded in this, and in his flight, while crossing the river, a crocodile seized him; but it did him no further harm than to carry him held fast in [its [179]mouth], to the mouth of the river of Binalatongan, where some soldiers were on guard, and to leave him there, half-dead with fear, with only some slight wounds from the creature’s claws. The soldiers ran up to see who he was, and recognized Pacadua; they took him prisoner, and in due time he atoned for his crime on the gallows. They conveyed him to the presence of General Francisco de Esteybar, who ordered that he be carefully guarded until his punishment should be duly adjudged; for in the province of Ilocos very lamentable events were making pressing calls upon the Spanish forces—since, as will be seen in the proper place, the natives there had slain two religious.

Soon, Don Andrés Malóng regretted having separated so many troops from the main body of his army when, on January 9th, General Ugalde signaled the start of hostilities at Lingayén. By January 17th, Commander Francisco de Esteybar unexpectedly arrived with the full strength of the Spanish army. The rebels in Binalatongan had torn down and burned the bridge made of planks—creating a challenge for Francisco de Esteybar. However, a brave soldier named Cristóbal de Santa Cruz, along with two daring Merdicas, made the crossing easier. They jumped into the water, swimming while the Spaniard walked on their shields or bucklers. They gathered all the logs and bamboos they could find and built a raft large enough to carry the infantry. Malóng called for Don Melchor de Vera, and in the meantime, driven more by fear of their guilt than by the smaller number of Spanish soldiers, all the rebels took refuge in Binalatongan. But this didn’t last long, as the two generals combined their forces and marched to attack them, intending to end the war quickly. Don Andrés Malóng, having learned of this plan, chose not to risk the uncertain outcome. He set fire to Binalatongan, looted everything, and burned the church and convent, while the icons of saints inside fell victim to the rage and madness of the retreating rebels, who trampled and broke them as they fled to the mountains. They left in such a rush that many fell into the hands of the soldiers the commander-in-chief quickly sent after them upon noticing their escape. The main body of troops—both cavalry and infantry—pursued the rebels as far as the terrain permitted, killing over five hundred Zambals and rebels during the chase. Afterward, unable to continue the pursuit, the army returned to Lingayén to assist other provinces in need. Soon after, groups of locals began arriving, begging the commander-in-chief for forgiveness. He, exercising the authority granted to him, detained those he deemed guilty and allowed the others to return to their villages. The natives, hoping to calm the justified anger of the Spaniards, decided to capture Don Andrés Malóng. Francisco de Esteybar, learning where he was hiding—in a forest between Bagnotan and Calasiao—sent Captain Simon de Fuentes and Alférez Alonso de Alcántara with sixty soldiers (fifteen Spaniards, fifteen Merdicas and creoles, and Sargento-mayor Pedro Machado of Ternate, along with some Pangasinans as guides). They located Don Andrés Malóng's hut, arresting him and his mother, Beata de Santo Domingo; they also rescued a ten-year-old girl, a sister-in-law of Francisco Pulido, who he had kept captive with the intention of marrying her. A large cache of gold, pearls, and silver that Malóng had taken with him was also discovered. They brought him to Binalatongan and placed him in prison under strict surveillance. It's interesting to note what happened to Don Francisco de Pacadua, one of the main rebels, who acted as a judge for King Don Andrés Malóng in this drama. He was taken prisoner to Binalatongan, and because he was very wealthy, he devised a plan to escape by bribing the guards. He succeeded in escaping, but while crossing the river, a crocodile grabbed him. Fortunately, it didn't harm him further than holding him tightly in its mouth, and it carried him to the mouth of the river Binalatongan, where some soldiers stood guard. There, they recognized him, took him prisoner, and in time, he paid for his crimes on the gallows. They brought him before General Francisco de Esteybar, who ordered that he be carefully guarded until his punishment was decided, as very troubling events were requiring the attention of Spanish forces in the province of Ilocos—since, as will be noted in due course, the locals there had killed two religious figures.

Francisco de Esteybar was informed how, among the ravages and cruelties which the rebels had committed in the village of Malunguey, they had demolished the church and convent in order to use the planks in these for making their fortifications; and in a thicket had been found an image of the mother of God, [that had been taken] from that church, showing marks of ill-treatment, and with its hands cut off. Francisco de Esteybar went to Malunguey with most of his army, and they carried the sacred image in a triumphal procession to Binalatongan, where it was reverently deposited. It is said that the rebels used the hands of the sacred image as spoons for eating their cooked rice [morisqueta]—an act of insolence which was made known as being insurrection and rebellion against both Majesties. It is also related that they trampled on the rosaries and committed other impious acts, tokens of their apostasy. The fathers of St. Dominic labored much in reducing and pacifying the insurgents, displaying [180]the ardor and energy in insurrection which they are accustomed to exert in their missions and ministries; but as the hearts of the Pangasinans were so cold, and their wills were so obstinate in their treacherous rebellion, they would not be affected even by blows from the hammer of the strongest Cyclop. But many withdrew from the ranks of the insurgents through the counsel and persuasion of father Fray Juan Camacho—Don Carlos Malóng, the brother of the usurping king Don Andrés, and many others—who, being tractable, in time embraced his wholesome counsels.

Francisco de Esteybar learned about the destruction and brutality that the rebels had inflicted on the village of Malunguey. They had torn down the church and convent to use the wood for their fortifications. In a nearby thicket, an image of the Mother of God, taken from that church, was found, showing signs of mistreatment with its hands cut off. Francisco de Esteybar went to Malunguey with most of his army and carried the sacred image in a triumphal procession to Binalatongan, where it was respectfully placed. It is said that the rebels used the hands of the sacred image as spoons to eat their cooked rice [morisqueta]—an act of defiance that was recognized as insurrection and rebellion against both Majesties. It is also reported that they trampled on rosaries and committed other impious acts, signs of their apostasy. The fathers of St. Dominic worked hard to subdue and pacify the insurgents, showing the same fervor and energy in rebellion that they typically display in their missions and ministries. However, the hearts of the Pangasinans were so cold, and their wills were so stubborn in their treacherous rebellion, that they remained unaffected even by the strongest force. But many left the insurgents’ ranks through the guidance and persuasion of Father Fray Juan Camacho—Don Carlos Malóng, the brother of the usurping king Don Andrés, and many others—who, being open to reason, eventually accepted his wise counsel.

Thus was finally extinguished this fire which rebellion kindled in the province of Pangasinán, which threatened great destruction—although it wrought no slight havoc in the burning of the two villages Bagnotan and Binalatongan, which were the most important in that province; and up to the present time they have not been able to recover the wealth and population that they formerly had. That the outbreak of these rebels was no more extensive is due to the fact that the governor undertook so promptly to apply the remedy, sending out by land and sea officers so valiant, and so experienced in conquest—as [for instance], Francisco de Esteybar, who was one of the most fortunate soldiers who have been known in these regions. In a printed history38 I have seen mention of this rebellion in Pangasinán with much solicitude to exonerate the [181]insurgents, and omitting many circumstances which aggravate it. But I am not influenced by prejudice, for I do not feel it; but I am guided by the relations of it made by disinterested persons of that period, and of soldiers who took part in the said reduction. Some of these are still alive, among them Captain Alonso Martín Franco, who was present in all the revolutions, those of Pampanga, Pangasinán, and Ilocos, and gives an account of all the events above mentioned and of those which are related in the following chapters. In the latter are recounted the ravages wrought by Don Pedro Gumapos, by order of his king Don Andrés Malóng, in the province of Ilocos, aided by the Zambals, a cruel and barbarous people, who inflicted so much harm on that province that it is deplored even to this day.

Thus was finally put out this fire ignited by rebellion in the province of Pangasinán, which posed a significant threat of destruction—though it did cause considerable damage in the burning of the two main villages, Bagnotan and Binalatongan, which were the most important in that province; and even now, they have yet to recover the wealth and population they once had. The limited extent of this rebel uprising can be attributed to the governor's swift response, sending out brave and experienced officers by land and sea—such as Francisco de Esteybar, noted as one of the most successful soldiers known in these regions. In a printed history38 I've seen mentions of this rebellion in Pangasinán, with a strong desire to exonerate the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]insurgents, while leaving out many details that worsen the situation. However, I am not biased, as I do not feel that way; instead, I rely on accounts from impartial people of that time and soldiers who participated in the suppression. Some of these are still alive, including Captain Alonso Martín Franco, who witnessed all the revolutions in Pampanga, Pangasinán, and Ilocos, and recounts all the aforementioned events and those described in the following chapters. These chapters detail the destruction caused by Don Pedro Gumapos, acting under the orders of his king Don Andrés Malóng, in the province of Ilocos, aided by the Zambals, a cruel and barbaric people, who inflicted such damage on that province that it is still lamented even today.

Raid of the Pangasinans and Zambals into the province of Ilocos; 1660–61

Raid of the Pangasinans and Zambals into the province of Ilocos; 1660–61

[This is related by Diaz, continuing the above account, in his Conquistas, pp. 590–616 (book iii, chapters xxi–xxiv).]

[This is mentioned by Diaz, continuing the previous account, in his Conquistas, pp. 590–616 (book iii, chapters xxi–xxiv).]

That I may give a more satisfactory relation of the melancholy tragedy in the province of Ilocos, I have thought it best to defer for later mention the march of the fantastic “Conde” Don Pedro Gumapos to that province, where we shall find him in due time, and to follow the relation of all those occurrences which was sent to our father provincial, Fray Diego de Ordas, by his vicar in that province, father Fray Bernardino Márquez—adopting the simplicity of his mode of writing, that I may without exaggeration accurately describe the events of all that occurred there; for a uniform style cannot always be [182]employed, especially when the accounts of others are followed.

To give a clearer account of the tragic events in the province of Ilocos, I think it's best to save the story of the mysterious “Count” Don Pedro Gumapos's journey to that province for later. We will encounter him in due time. Instead, I will focus on the events reported to our provincial head, Fray Diego de Ordas, by his representative in that province, Fray Bernardino Márquez. I will adopt his straightforward writing style to describe the events accurately without exaggeration since a consistent style can't always be [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]used, especially when referring to others' accounts.

On the sixteenth day of December in the year 1660, the father preacher Fray Luís de la Fuente, prior of that district, having left the village of Bauang—to which he had gone to make his confession—to go to his village of Agoo, learned on the route of the insurrection in the province of Pangasinán, and the raid of the Zambals into that of Ilocos. He returned to Bauang with that information, and communicated it fully to the father preacher Fray Bernardino Márquez,39 prior of that convent and vicar-provincial of Ilocos; and at the same time asked permission to go up to Lamianán, which is the most northern district in that province. Father Fray Bernardino attempted to turn father Fray Luís from this purpose, telling him that it was not right to abandon one’s flock in time of tribulation—for which reason he was of opinion that Fray Luís should return to his ministry at Agoo; and in order to do so with safety he could go accompanied by an Indian chief named Don Pedro Hidalgo, who was much beloved by the Zambals. Father Fray Luís was as willing as prompt to comply with his superior’s wishes; but Don Pedro Hidalgo answered that it was not proper to expose father Fray Luís’s life to so evident a risk; and that it was better that he himself should first go to ascertain in what condition affairs were in the village of Agoo. This opinion of Don Pedro was approved by father Fray Bernardino, who thereupon gave permission to [183]father Fray Luís to make his journey to Laminián. He set out for that place on the seventeenth of December, 1660, in company with a Spanish tax-collector named Juan de Silva, who had come [to Bauang] to escape the fury of the rebels in the province of Pangasinán.... On the sixteenth, father Fray Luís had warned Captain Aguerra and the alcalde-mayor of the province of Ilocos, Don Alonso de Peralta, of the disturbed condition in which those districts were; and on the same day a letter went by way of Bauang from Don Andrés Malóng, who styled himself king of Pangasinán. The letter was written to all the Indian chiefs of the provinces of Ilocos and Cagayán, and he advised them therein to take up arms and slay all the Spaniards, as he had done in his kingdom of Pangasinán; and declared that if they did not do so, he would go thither with his soldiers and punish them as disobedient.

On December 16, 1660, Father Fray Luís de la Fuente, the prior of that district, left the village of Bauang—where he had gone to confess—to head back to his village of Agoo. On the way, he learned about the uprising in Pangasinán and the raid by the Zambals in Ilocos. He returned to Bauang to share this information with Father Fray Bernardino Márquez, the prior of that convent and vicar-provincial of Ilocos. He also asked for permission to travel up to Lamianán, the northernmost district in that province. Father Fray Bernardino tried to dissuade Father Fray Luís, saying it wasn’t right to leave his flock during a crisis—so he believed Fray Luís should return to his ministry in Agoo. To ensure safety, he suggested that Fray Luís be accompanied by an Indian chief named Don Pedro Hidalgo, who was well-liked by the Zambals. Father Fray Luís was quick to agree with his superior's suggestion, but Don Pedro Hidalgo insisted that it was too dangerous to put Fray Luís’s life at risk and that he should first check on the situation in Agoo himself. Don Pedro’s advice was approved by Father Fray Bernardino, who then gave Father Fray Luís permission to journey to Laminián. He set out for that destination on December 17, 1660, accompanied by a Spanish tax collector named Juan de Silva, who had come to Bauang to escape the rebels in Pangasinán. On the sixteenth, Father Fray Luís had also warned Captain Aguerra and the alcalde-mayor of Ilocos, Don Alonso de Peralta, about the unrest in those areas. That day, a letter from Don Andrés Malóng, who called himself the king of Pangasinán, was sent via Bauang. The letter was addressed to all the Indian chiefs in the provinces of Ilocos and Cagayán, urging them to take up arms and kill all the Spaniards, as he had done in his kingdom of Pangasinán, and declared that if they did not comply, he would come with soldiers to punish them for their disobedience.

On the day of the Expectation of our Lady, which they reckon the eighteenth of December, father Fray Bernardino Márquez, while in his church at Bauang ... [was warned of the approach of the Zambals]. He found at the door of the church two Indian chiefs of that village, one of whom was named Don Juan Canangán; they told him not to be afraid, as they were there determined to defend the father from the fury of the Zambals, who were already near, even if it cost them their lives.... While he was saying mass, the Zambals arrived; their leader or captain was he who had been titled “Conde,” a native of the village of Agoo and married in Binalatongan, named Don Pedro Gumapos, who had been an associate of Don Andrés Malóng in [184]that insurrection. The Zambals waited very quietly for the father to finish saying mass; and when he had returned thanks and begun to say the prayers, a message came to him from Don Pedro Gumapos asking permission to kiss his hand. Father Fray Bernardino gave it, and Gumapos came up accompanied by Zambals and Negritos, armed with balazaos40 and catanas. He kissed father Fray Bernardino’s hand, and told him absurd things about his rebellion against the Spaniards, and at the same time he asked permission for his soldiers to search the convent, to see if any Spaniard were concealed there. Father Fray Bernardino, certain that no one was there, told him that he might do as he pleased; Gumapos ordered his companions to make the search, and if they met any Spaniard to kill him. The Zambals carried out this order of Gumapos, and in the course of the search looted whatever there was in the convent. While this was being done, Gumapos remained talking with father Fray Bernardino Márquez; and, when he asked where was father Fray Luís de la Fuente, father Fray Bernardino answered that he had gone up to Bagnotan to make his confession. Gumapos replied to this that he had come to kill Fray Luís, unless father Fray Bernardino would ransom him for 300 pesos. To this audacious proposition the father answered that he had not so much money, and that Gumapos should therefore take his life, or carry him away as a slave, and let father Fray Luís go. Gumapos replied to this that no injury of any kind would be done to the father, for he himself would rather suffer such harm in his own person; [185]but this was no virtue of Gumapos, but [the result of] an order given to him by his little king Don Andrés Malóng, who was very fond of father Fray Bernardino Márquez.

On the day of the Expectation of Our Lady, which they consider to be December 18th, Father Fray Bernardino Márquez, while in his church at Bauang, was warned about the approach of the Zambals. At the church door, he met two Indian chiefs from that village, one of whom was named Don Juan Canangán. They assured him not to be afraid, as they were there to defend him from the Zambals, who were already close by, even if it cost them their lives. While he was saying mass, the Zambals arrived, led by a man known as “Conde,” a native of the village of Agoo, married in Binalatongan, called Don Pedro Gumapos, who had been an associate of Don Andrés Malóng in [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]that insurrection. The Zambals waited quietly for the mass to finish; and when he had said his thanks and began to pray, he received a message from Don Pedro Gumapos asking for permission to kiss his hand. Father Fray Bernardino granted it, and Gumapos approached, accompanied by Zambals and Negritos, armed with balazaos40 and cutlasses. He kissed Father Fray Bernardino’s hand and shared absurd reasons for his rebellion against the Spaniards while asking if his men could search the convent to see if any Spaniards were hiding there. Father Fray Bernardino, confident that no one was there, told him he could do as he wished. Gumapos ordered his men to conduct the search and to kill any Spaniard they found. The Zambals followed Gumapos’s orders and looted whatever they found in the convent. While this was happening, Gumapos stayed to talk with Father Fray Bernardino Márquez. When he inquired about Father Fray Luís de la Fuente, Father Fray Bernardino replied that he had gone up to Bagnotan to make his confession. Gumapos then said he had come to kill Fray Luís unless Father Fray Bernardino would pay 300 pesos for his freedom. To this bold proposal, the father responded that he didn't have that much money and suggested that Gumapos could take his life or capture him as a slave, letting Father Fray Luís go. Gumapos replied that no harm would come to the father, as he would prefer to suffer any injury himself; [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]however, this was not Gumapos’s virtue, but rather an order from his little king Don Andrés Malóng, who had great affection for Father Fray Bernardino Márquez.

[Gumapos orders the headman of Bauang to go after Fray Luís with a troop of Indians, Zambals, and Negritos; they kill the Spaniard who accompanies him, and carry the father back to Bauang. Gumapos, after vainly trying to exact a ransom from the friar, orders the Indian to kill him; but they take pity on him, and collect among themselves the sum of eight and a half taes of gold, “the greater part of this being given by Doña María Uañga, chieftainess of the visita of Balanac.” Finally Gumapos imprisons both the religious in a cell, where they remain under guard until the rebels go away.] All the time while the Zambals remained in Bauang, they were engaged in plundering and robbing the poor Indians, and did all the damage that they could. The religious emerged from their prison, half-dead from weakness, for they had remained almost three days without eating or drinking; but the Zambals had left nothing in the convent, and the religious therefore had to send to the Indians to beg food. That day father Fray Bernardino wrote a letter to father Fray Juan de41 Isla, the commissary of the Inquisition in that province and his visitor, entreating him to notify the bishop—who then was bishop of Nueva Segovia, the illustrious Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas, belonging to the Order of St. Dominic, and a native of Lima; a man who excelled in virtue as well as in learning—and that both of them should ask the [186]alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso de Peralta, for the aid which those districts of Bauang and Agoo so greatly needed.

[Gumapos orders the headman of Bauang to go after Fray Luís with a group of Indians, Zambals, and Negritos; they kill the Spaniard who is with him and take the father back to Bauang. Gumapos, after unsuccessfully trying to get a ransom from the friar, tells the Indian to kill him; but they feel sorry for him and come together to collect a total of eight and a half taes of gold, “the greater part of this being given by Doña María Uañga, chieftainess of the visita of Balanac.” Finally, Gumapos locks both religious men in a cell, where they remain under guard until the rebels leave.] While the Zambals were in Bauang, they spent their time plundering and robbing the poor Indians, causing as much damage as they could. The religious men emerged from their prison, half-dead from weakness, having gone almost three days without food or drink; but the Zambals had taken everything from the convent, so the religious had to send a message to the Indians asking for food. That day, Father Fray Bernardino wrote a letter to Father Fray Juan de41 Isla, the commissary of the Inquisition in that province and his visitor, pleading with him to inform the bishop—who was then the bishop of Nueva Segovia, the distinguished Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas, who belonged to the Order of St. Dominic and was from Lima; a man who excelled in both virtue and knowledge—so that both of them would ask the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso de Peralta, for the support that the areas of Bauang and Agoo desperately needed.

On the following day, the twentieth of December, nearly all the people in the village of Bauang confessed and received communion, most of those who had taken part in the murder of the Spaniard Juan de Silva doing penance—especially the headman, who, as he had a very quiet and peaceable disposition, had been constrained by fear of Gumapos to assist in such a crime. The fathers were greatly edified by the Christian spirit of the Indians, which is so great in this province of Ilocos. Father Fray Luís pursued his journey to Lamianán, accompanied by a native named Don Dionisio Maricdín—a friendly act which no other Indian is known to have performed on that occasion, as being disobedient to the orders of “Conde” Don Pedro Gumapos, of whom all had conceived so great fear. For this service he was afterward rewarded by General Sebastián Rayo Doria, who made the said Don Dionisio Maricdín sargento-mayor of the villages of Aringuey, Bauang, and Agoo, on July 5, 1661. Father Fray Luís reached the bar of Purao, and found there Alférez Lorenzo Arqueros, alguazil-mayor and deputy of the alcalde-mayor of the province of Ilocos; he had come with a troop of Indians from that province to set free the fathers, Fray Bernardino and Fray Luís, from the power of the Zambals. They all came to Bagnotán, from which place they notified father Fray Bernardino, who was in Bauang.

On the following day, December 20th, nearly everyone in the village of Bauang confessed and received communion, including most of those who had participated in the murder of the Spaniard Juan de Silva, doing penance—especially the headman, who, having a very calm and peaceful nature, had been forced by fear of Gumapos to participate in such a crime. The fathers were deeply impressed by the Christian spirit of the Indians, which is so strong in this province of Ilocos. Father Fray Luís continued his journey to Lamianán, accompanied by a native named Don Dionisio Maricdín—a friendly gesture that no other Indian is known to have made at that time due to fear of “Conde” Don Pedro Gumapos, who was widely feared. For this act, he was later rewarded by General Sebastián Rayo Doria, who appointed Don Dionisio Maricdín as sargento-mayor of the villages of Aringuey, Bauang, and Agoo, on July 5, 1661. Father Fray Luís arrived at the bar of Purao, where he met Alférez Lorenzo Arqueros, alguazil-mayor and deputy of the alcalde-mayor of the province of Ilocos; he had come with a group of Indians from that province to rescue the fathers, Fray Bernardino and Fray Luís, from the control of the Zambals. They all went to Bagnotán, from where they informed Father Fray Bernardino, who was in Bauang.

In consequence of the repeated advices of Zambal raids into Ilocos, the alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso de Peralta, called a council of war at Vigan, to provide [187]suitable measures for averting the many dangers which were threatening the province. At this council were present the bishop of Nueva Segovia, Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas, the father visitor Fray Juan de Isla, and all the Spaniards; and it was decided that the alcalde-mayor should go in person to the succor of those districts infested by Zambals, accompanied by father Fray Gonzalo de la Palma and father Fray José Polanco.42 The lord bishop was to remain in Vigan, in company with father Fray Juan de Isla, with the charge of sending a troop of Ilocan and Cagayan Indians who were being levied, and of taking such other measures as might prove desirable. In order to render aid and confront the Zambals as quickly as possible, the alcalde-mayor sent ahead Alférez Lorenzo Arqueros, with such men as could be collected in so short a time; and soon Don Alonso de Peralta followed him, [with troops] lightly equipped [a la ligera], accompanied by the two fathers, Fray Gonzalo and Fray José, as far as Namacpacán, the first village of the province of Ilocos.

Due to the ongoing warnings about Zambal raids into Ilocos, the alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso de Peralta, called a war council in Vigan to discuss suitable measures to prevent the many threats facing the province. Present at this council were the bishop of Nueva Segovia, Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas, the visitor Fray Juan de Isla, and all the Spaniards; they decided that the alcalde-mayor should personally go to assist the districts affected by the Zambals, accompanied by Father Fray Gonzalo de la Palma and Father Fray José Polanco. The bishop would stay in Vigan with Father Fray Juan de Isla, overseeing the recruitment of Ilocano and Cagayan Indians and taking any other necessary actions. To provide assistance and confront the Zambals as quickly as possible, the alcalde-mayor sent Alférez Lorenzo Arqueros ahead with as many men as could be gathered in such a short time. Soon after, Don Alonso de Peralta followed with lightly equipped troops, along with Fathers Gonzalo and José, reaching Namacpacán, the first village of the province of Ilocos.

I have already related how father Fray Bernardino Márquez had remained at Bauang, where he received notice of the arrival of Lorenzo Arqueros at Bagnotán for the succor of those districts; and at the same time he had very accurate information that the Zambals were planning to make a second raid on the [188]province of Ilocos. He immediately warned Lorenzo Arqueros of this, who was still at Bagnotán—asking that officer to go down to Bauang, if he thought it best, that he might from a nearer station check the designs of the Zambals. Father Fray Bernardino continued to receive reliable advices of the coming of the Zambals, and on that account decided one night to leave Bauang in a boat, with six Indians as a guard, to go in search of Lorenzo Arqueros. At the cost of much hardship the father found him near the visita of Dalangdang, on his march toward Bauang; the father joined the troop of Lorenzo Arqueros, and they continued the march to Bauang. They arrived there at daybreak, but found the village without inhabitants, because for fear of the Zambals they had fled to the woods.

I’ve already mentioned that Father Fray Bernardino Márquez stayed in Bauang, where he heard about Lorenzo Arqueros arriving at Bagnotán to help those areas. At the same time, he got reliable information that the Zambals were planning a second raid on the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] province of Ilocos. He immediately warned Lorenzo Arqueros, who was still at Bagnotán, asking him to come to Bauang if he thought it was a good idea so he could keep an eye on the Zambals from a closer location. Father Fray Bernardino kept receiving trustworthy reports about the Zambals' approach and decided one night to leave Bauang in a boat with six Indians as guards to find Lorenzo Arqueros. After a lot of hardship, Father found him near the visita of Dalangdang as he was heading toward Bauang. The father joined Lorenzo Arqueros's group, and they continued the march to Bauang. They arrived at daybreak but found the village empty because the inhabitants had fled to the woods out of fear of the Zambals.

Lorenzo Arqueros ordered his men to beat the drums, and soon the village was full of people. Father Fray Bernardino talked to the Indians, and sent notice of this aid [just received] to the village of Agoo. Those people replied by informing him that the Zambals were ready to make a second raid; and that in any case the Spaniards ought to see that Don Miguel Carreño was hanged. He was a native of the visita of Aringuey, and the father of Don Pedro Gumapos, the head of the conspirators, to whom he communicated all the operations of the loyal Indians. In consequence of this advice, Lorenzo Arqueros ordered Master-of-camp Don Lorenzo Peding, a valiant Ilocan, to go with a hundred men to arrest Don Miguel Carreño. [Carreño is seized and hanged; the Zambals of his command, dispirited by losing him, are defeated and take to flight.] [189]

Lorenzo Arqueros told his men to beat the drums, and soon the village was filled with people. Father Fray Bernardino spoke to the Indians and sent word of the aid they just received to the village of Agoo. They replied by informing him that the Zambals were about to launch a second raid, and that the Spaniards needed to ensure that Don Miguel Carreño was hanged. He was from the visita of Aringuey and the father of Don Pedro Gumapos, the leader of the conspirators, to whom he shared all the plans of the loyal Indians. Following this advice, Lorenzo Arqueros ordered Master-of-camp Don Lorenzo Peding, a brave Ilocano, to take a hundred men to arrest Don Miguel Carreño. [Carreño is seized and hanged; the Zambals under his command, demoralized by his loss, are defeated and flee.] [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Lorenzo Arqueros reported all this to his captain the alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso de Peralta, who was still at Namacpacán—asking at the same time that he would come to his aid, since he knew with certainty that the Zambals, with much larger numbers, were coming in search of him. At this, Don Alonso de Peralta resolved to go in person to the succor of his lieutenant; but this resolution was opposed by the fathers, not only because it was not right for him to go on so important a relief expedition with only six or seven Spanish mestizos, who accompanied him, but also because he ought not to leave his jurisdiction, which extended only as far as Namacpacán. They told him that it would be better to wait for the soldiers whom the bishop was to send from Vigan, so that he could with this reënforcement go to look for the enemy; but the alcalde-mayor, urged on by the letters of Lorenzo Arqueros, and, besides, encouraged by the latter’s previous success, pursued his resolution, and marched for Bauang, accompanied by father Fray José Blanco43 and father Fray Gonzalo de la Palma. As soon as he encountered Lorenzo Arqueros, he ordered the latter to set out for the village of Agoo, to succor Master-of-camp Don Lorenzo Peding. [Arrived at Agoo, Arqueros finds the Zambals in sufficient force to render more aid necessary; and his urgent request brings Peralta to Agoo. The latter brings with him two jars [tibores] of gunpowder, which had been kept in the convent at Bauang. Arqueros advises Peralta to retreat, since their auxiliaries are all undisciplined, and the Ilocans somewhat timid, while the enemy are superior in numbers[190]—having more than five thousand men, while the Ilocans did not exceed one thousand five hundred. Peralta refuses to do this, especially as the Ilocans have firearms, “which the Zambal so greatly dreads.” The Ilocans go, without orders, across the river, to form an ambush against the foe; Arqueros goes to their aid, followed by Peralta. “The fathers disguised themselves, fearing that the Zambals, if they should be victorious, would, angered by having seen fathers in battle, slay the Dominican fathers of the province of Pangasinán, who were in their power.” At daybreak the enemy come to the attack; the Ilocans are soon overcome by fear, and take flight, neither the officers nor the friars being able to restrain them. Don Lorenzo Peding dies bravely fighting, after having slain many of his assailants; and all the guns and other weapons, and the gunpowder, of the Ilocans are captured by the Zambals. Peding’s death utterly destroys the little remnant of courage in his followers, and they flee pell-mell, trampling on and drowning each other in the ford of the river. “The most pitiable thing was to see the children and old men in flight, and especially the women—some of whom gave birth to children, and others suffered abortion through fear, the infants being abandoned in the camp. The children were drowned, and the old people were overcome by exhaustion; all were in most pitiable condition. Those who felt it most keenly were the fathers, who aided some but could not help all, since all the people had fled.” The Spanish leaders attempt to rally the Indians at Agoo, and afterward at Bauang, but all in vain; they are compelled to return to Namacpacán, where they arrive on January 4, 1661. Finding [191]that they can obtain neither men nor arms, they continue their retreat to Vigan. On the route, they stop at Narbacán, and order “the Indians of that village, with those of Santa Catalina, a visita of Bantay, to erect a stockade and rampart in Agayayos44 to prevent the Zambals from passing through there for Vigán and Cagayán. He garrisoned this post with a body of Indians, in command of one of them, named Don Pedro de la Peña, a native of Santa Catalina, and continued his journey to Vigán.”]

Lorenzo Arqueros reported everything to his captain, the alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso de Peralta, who was still in Namacpacán. He asked for assistance, knowing for sure that the Zambals, with a much larger force, were coming for him. Don Alonso de Peralta decided to personally help his lieutenant, but the fathers opposed this decision. They argued that it was inappropriate for him to embark on such an important relief mission with only six or seven Spanish mestizos at his side. Furthermore, they insisted he should not leave his jurisdiction, which only extended to Namacpacán. They suggested waiting for the soldiers the bishop was sending from Vigan, so he could reinforce his position before confronting the enemy. However, encouraged by Lorenzo Arqueros's letters and his prior successes, the alcalde-mayor went ahead with his plan and marched to Bauang, accompanied by Father Fray José Blanco and Father Fray Gonzalo de la Palma. Upon meeting Lorenzo Arqueros, he ordered him to head for the village of Agoo to support Master-of-camp Don Lorenzo Peding. When Arqueros arrived in Agoo, he found the Zambals were strong enough to require additional assistance; his urgent call brought Peralta to Agoo. Peralta brought two jars of gunpowder that had been stored in the convent at Bauang. Arqueros suggested Peralta retreat, as their allies were undisciplined and the Ilocans were somewhat timid, while the enemy had superior numbers—over five thousand Zambals compared to the Ilocans’ maximum of one thousand five hundred. Peralta refused, especially since the Ilocans had firearms that the Zambals greatly feared. The Ilocans crossed the river on their own accord to set an ambush against the enemy, and Arqueros followed to support them, with Peralta coming behind. “The fathers disguised themselves, fearing that if the Zambals won, they would be angry at seeing fathers in battle and would kill the Dominican priests of Pangasinán who were in their grasp.” At dawn, the enemy attacked; the Ilocans quickly succumbed to fear and fled, with neither the officers nor the friars able to stop them. Don Lorenzo Peding died bravely fighting, having killed many of his attackers; all the guns and weapons of the Ilocans were captured by the Zambals. Peding’s death shattered the remaining courage of his followers, causing them to flee in panic, trampling over and drowning one another in the river crossing. “The most heartbreaking sight was the fleeing children and elderly, especially the women—some giving birth, while others miscarried from fear, leaving infants abandoned in the camp. The children drowned, and the elderly were exhausted; everyone was in a terrible state. The fathers felt this deeply, helping some but unable to assist all, as the entire population had fled.” The Spanish leaders tried to rally the Indians in Agoo and then at Bauang, but all their efforts were in vain; they had to return to Namacpacán, arriving on January 4, 1661. Realizing they could neither find men nor weapons, they continued their retreat to Vigan. Along the way, they stopped at Narbacán and ordered “the Indians of that village, along with those from Santa Catalina, a visita of Bantay, to build a stockade and rampart in Agayayos to stop the Zambals from passing through to Vigan and Cagayán. He stationed a group of Indians there under the command of one named Don Pedro de la Peña, a native of Santa Catalina, and continued his journey to Vigan.”

The father visitor, Fray Juan de la Isla, had considered it expedient to command the father ministers to retreat to Vigán; they obeyed, although against the dictates of their paternal charity, which was unwilling to abandon their spiritual sons. Some fathers thought that they ought not to obey this mandate; and one of them made his way through the middle of the enemies, to go to his ministry of Taguding, and others to the hills, to which the Ilocans had retreated, for fear of the Zambals.

The visiting father, Fray Juan de la Isla, decided it was best to order the father ministers to withdraw to Vigán; they complied, even though it went against their caring instincts, which were reluctant to leave their spiritual children behind. Some fathers believed they shouldn’t follow this order; one of them navigated through the enemy lines to get to his ministry in Taguding, while others headed to the hills where the Ilocans had retreated in fear of the Zambals.

[Arriving at Vigan, the Spaniards hold a conference regarding the threatening dangers.] The alcalde-mayor, Bishop Don Fray Rodrigo Cárdenas, and father Fray Juan de Isla were of opinion that the most prudent measure was to place in a ship all the father ministers and all the Spaniards who were there, and send them to Manila, so that they might not experience the worst severity of ill-fortune. For, although it could not be doubted that aid would come from Manila, it was very uncertain whether [192]information of the disordered condition of those provinces had reached the supreme government, while it was most evident that the Zambal army would soon come [to Vigan], aided, as was already conjectured, by their communication with some Indian chiefs of that province. Many forcible arguments were brought forward against this opinion by the father ministers, especially Fray Bernardino Márquez, Fray José Arias, and Fray Gonzalo de la Palma, who were followed by all the other ministers. They concluded by saying that if the ministers were to retreat, it would be utter ruin to the province, in regard, not only to God but to the king; for the Indians who yet maintained their faith and loyalty would abandon all if they had not the fathers—either through fear, or carried away by their heathen customs. In that council it was also resolved to build a fort at Vigan, so that they could resist the Zambals until aid from Manila should arrive. This work was begun, but not carried out; for the Indians who worked at it were continually disappearing. The alcalde-mayor, therefore, Don Alonso de Peralta, finally decided to give orders that all the Spaniards who were in the province—except Lorenzo Arqueros, who refused to embark—and all the father ministers, both secular and religious, who wished to go to Manila, should go aboard the champans which he had at the bar there. He himself embarked in a champan with the father visitor Fray Juan de Isla and father Fray Luís de la Fuente, the bishop promising to follow them. The retreat of Don Alonso Peralta caused great injuries to that poor province, although the rest of the religious remained in Vigán, in company with the bishop and [193]in his house; he had at his side only two secular priests—one named Don Gerónimo de Leyva, the judge-provisor and commissary of the Inquisition for that bishopric; and the other, father Don Miguel de Quiros.

[Arriving at Vigan, the Spaniards hold a conference regarding the threatening dangers.] The alcalde-mayor, Bishop Don Fray Rodrigo Cárdenas, and Father Fray Juan de Isla believed that the most sensible action was to put all the friars and Spaniards present onto a ship and send them to Manila, to avoid the worst of the misfortunes. Although it was certain that help would arrive from Manila, it was very uncertain whether [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the government had been informed about the chaotic situation in those provinces. It was clear that the Zambal army would soon come [to Vigan], possibly supported by their connections with some local Indian chiefs. Many strong arguments were raised against this idea by the friars, especially Fray Bernardino Márquez, Fray José Arias, and Fray Gonzalo de la Palma, supported by all the other friars. They argued that if the priests withdrew, it would lead to total disaster for the province, both for God and for the king; the Indians who still held onto their faith and loyalty would abandon it if the friars left—either out of fear or being led astray by their pagan customs. In that meeting, it was also decided to build a fort in Vigan to defend against the Zambals until help from Manila arrived. This project started but was never completed, as the Indians working on it kept disappearing. Thus, the alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso de Peralta, ultimately ordered that all Spaniards in the province—except Lorenzo Arqueros, who refused to leave—and all the friars, both secular and religious, who wanted to go to Manila should board the champans he had at the nearby bar. He himself boarded a champan with Father Visitor Fray Juan de Isla and Father Fray Luís de la Fuente, with the bishop promising to follow them. Don Alonso Peralta's retreat caused significant harm to that struggling province, even though the other religious stayed in Vigan with the bishop and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] in his house; he was accompanied by only two secular priests—one named Don Gerónimo de Leyva, the judge-provisor and commissary of the Inquisition for that bishopric; and the other, Father Don Miguel de Quiros.

I have already told how the governor, Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, hearing at Manila of the uprising and disturbances in the province of Pangasinán, commanded that an army and some vessels be assembled as promptly as possible, so that our arms might by land and sea punish the conspirators; and how he appointed as commander of the land forces Francisco de Esteybar—a valiant and fortunate soldier, a native of the town of Mondragon, in the province of Guipúzcoa—and of the armed fleet Felipe de Ugalde, also a brave soldier, and a native of the same province of Guipúzcoa. Don Sabiniano gave them orders that, in the emergencies that might arise in the campaign, each might act for himself, without waiting for the opinion of the other commander—for this reason, that often excellent opportunities in war are liable to miscarry. The instructions of Don Sabiniano were so judicious and clear that to this, more than any other cause, is due the speedy pacification of those provinces. At this time the Zambals—who, eager to plunder the rich province of Ilocos, and encouraged by the victory over its alcalde-mayor, had continued the pursuit of the conquered—arrived at Narvacan, where they waited some time through fear of the resistance which they would meet in the pass of Agayayos; but they were soon relieved from this fear by the very man, Don Pedro de la Peña, who had remained for the guard and defense of that pass. He tore down the stockade, [194]and very gladly went to offer them a free passage; accordingly, they went on without further hindrance. This treason of Don Pedro de la Peña was the whole cause of the Zambals being able to raid the villages of Ilocos, from Vigan on; for this post of the Agayayos is so difficult of passage that it only affords easy entrance to one man, and a horse can go through with difficulty, between two great cliffs, which are inaccessible by the summits. And since the Zambals must pass through it one by one, it would have been impossible for them to succeed in penetrating it, with even a very few men to defend the entrance. But this traitor to his country was like Conde Don Julián in España, who gave free passage to the enemies. Don Pedro paid for it with his life, on the gallows; but that province even now bewails the harm [that he caused it].

I’ve already explained how the governor, Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, heard about the uprising and unrest in the province of Pangasinán while in Manila. He ordered that an army and some ships be gathered as quickly as possible so our forces could punish the conspirators by land and sea. He appointed Francisco de Esteybar—a brave and fortunate soldier from the town of Mondragon in the province of Guipúzcoa—as the commander of the land forces, and Felipe de Ugalde, also a courageous soldier from the same province, to command the armed fleet. Don Sabiniano instructed them that in any emergencies during the campaign, each should act independently without waiting for the other’s input because, often, great opportunities in war can slip away. His instructions were so wise and clear that they played a major role in quickly stabilizing those provinces. At that time, the Zambals, eager to loot the wealthy province of Ilocos and emboldened by their victory over its alcalde-mayor, continued their pursuit of the defeated and arrived at Narvacan. They hesitated for a while, fearing the resistance they might encounter at the Agayayos pass. However, their fear was soon alleviated by Don Pedro de la Peña, who was left to guard and defend that pass. He dismantled the stockade and willingly offered them a free passage, allowing them to proceed without further hindrance. This betrayal by Don Pedro de la Peña was the reason the Zambals were able to raid the villages of Ilocos, starting from Vigan. The Agayayos pass is so difficult to navigate that it only permits easy access for one person, and a horse has a tough time getting through between two steep cliffs, which are impossible to climb. Since the Zambals had to go through it one by one, it would have been impossible for them to succeed in getting through with even a small number of defenders at the entrance. But this traitor to his country was like Conde Don Julián in Spain, who allowed the enemies to pass freely. Don Pedro paid for his treachery with his life on the gallows, but that province still mourns the damage he caused.

On that same day letters arrived at Vigán from General Felipe de Ugalde, written to the alcaldes-mayor of Ilocos and Cagayán, informing them of his arrival by sea for the succor of the province of Pangasinán, and of the arrival of General Francisco de Esteybar by land. On account of the absence of the alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso, the letter which came for him was opened by the bishop, and his illustrious Lordship and his companions were delighted at the good news, and full of hopes that they would soon enjoy peace; but their joy was quenched by the information which soon followed that the Zambals had already arrived at Santa Catalina, a visita of Vigán.

On that same day, letters arrived in Vigán from General Felipe de Ugalde, addressed to the alcaldes-mayor of Ilocos and Cagayán. He informed them of his arrival by sea to support the province of Pangasinán, as well as the arrival of General Francisco de Esteybar by land. Because the alcalde-mayor, Don Alonso, was absent, the letter meant for him was opened by the bishop. His Excellency and his companions were thrilled by the good news and filled with hope that peace was near; however, their joy was short-lived when they soon learned that the Zambals had already arrived at Santa Catalina, a visita of Vigán.

On the following day, the twentieth of January, the Zambals arrived at Vigán. [The bishop waits for them to come, prepared to say mass for their benefit, since they have sent him word that they wish [195]to hear it, “a singular mode of hostility, and a still more rare mode of devotion, which looks more like craft than simplicity, although all traits at once are possible in these people.” A number of the Zambals, including their leaders, hear mass with much reverence, and even confess to the priests, saying that many of their men have come on this raid through fear, rather than their own inclination. Most of the troop, however, proceed to loot the village; the people take refuge in the bishop’s house and the church, thus saving their lives, although they endure great suffering and privation by being shut up indoors for two days, with little food or drink. Finally the fathers persuade the Zambals to let the people return to their houses.] On that day the enemy appointed Don Juan Celiboto headman of the village, and from that time the Zambals made great haste to seize as many Indians as they could, both men and women, to be their slaves. Only the sacristans had been left on guard in the church; the Zambals slew them together in the baptistery, and plundered it of all the ornaments and cloth that they found; and there they also killed a negro who tried to avail himself of the church to escape from their hands. Many Ilocans died in various places on that day—so many that when the number was reckoned it was found that the village of Bantay alone had eighty45 dead, whose bodies they hid among the hills, so that they might not be seen by the fathers. In those villages all was confusion, outcries, the ringing of bells, the discharge of arquebuses, and shouts; and among the ecclesiastics all was [196]affliction and grief at seeing so many calamities, without being able to remedy them.

On the next day, January twentieth, the Zambals arrived in Vigan. [The bishop was waiting for them to come, ready to say mass for their benefit, since they had sent word that they wanted [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] to hear it, “a unique form of hostility, and an even rarer form of devotion, which seems more like cunning than simplicity, although all traits at once are possible in these people.” Many of the Zambals, including their leaders, attended mass with great reverence and even confessed to the priests, stating that many of their men had joined this raid out of fear, rather than their own choice. However, most of the group went on to loot the village; the people took refuge in the bishop’s house and the church, thus saving their lives, although they suffered greatly and lacked food and drink for two days as they were locked indoors. Eventually, the priests convinced the Zambals to allow the people to return to their homes.] On that day, the enemy appointed Don Juan Celiboto as the head of the village, and from then on, the Zambals hurried to capture as many Indians as they could, both men and women, to enslave them. Only the sacristans were left on guard in the church; the Zambals killed them together in the baptistery, and looted it of all the ornaments and cloth they could find; they also killed a Black man who tried to use the church as a refuge from them. Many Ilocans died in various places that day—so many that when the toll was counted, it was found that the village of Bantay alone had eighty45 dead, whose bodies they hid among the hills to keep them from being seen by the priests. In those villages, there was chaos, cries, the ringing of bells, gunfire, and shouts; and among the clergy, there was [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] sorrow and grief at witnessing so much suffering without being able to do anything about it.

Some Indian chiefs, for greater security, had brought to the bishop’s house the gold, silver, and other valuables which they possessed; and the amount thus brought together was so great that there was not space for them in the rooms above, and much property was even placed below the house. The Zambals cast their eyes on this wealth with eager desire, and their sentinels therefore watched very closely the house of his illustrious Lordship; this was a source of great anxiety to him and to the fathers, lest the poor owners should lose their property. The commander Don Jacinto [Macasiag] had promised to confer with the bishop about providing safety for these things, but did not keep his promise; his illustrious Lordship therefore commanded father Fray Gonzalo to go to talk with Don Jacinto in his quarters. The father did not shun making these journeys, because he lost no time on the road, hearing some confess, and baptizing others, even of the Zambals themselves. At the same time he gained the opportunity of seeing one of the champans of General Felipe de Ugalde arrive at the bar; it had been sent to reconnoitre those coasts, under the appearance of selling merchandise. Under the pretext of looking at the goods, father Fray Gonzalo went aboard this vessel, and informed the captain of the wretched condition in which they all were. Nothing was gained, however, by this effort, as the champan, on its return, was maliciously steered away from the place where the commander was who had sent it; but the ecclesiastics were left with the consolation that aid would soon come. [197]

Some Indian chiefs, seeking more security, brought their gold, silver, and other valuables to the bishop’s house. The amount collected was so large that there wasn't enough room in the upstairs rooms, and a lot of property even ended up below the house. The Zambals eyed this wealth with eager interest, so their sentinels closely monitored the house of his esteemed Lordship. This caused great worry for him and the fathers, fearing that the poor owners might lose their belongings. Commander Don Jacinto [Macasiag] had promised to discuss with the bishop how to protect these items, but he did not follow through. In response, his esteemed Lordship instructed Father Fray Gonzalo to go and speak with Don Jacinto at his quarters. The father was not deterred from making these trips, as he didn’t waste time on the road, hearing confessions and baptizing some, including a few of the Zambals. At the same time, he got the chance to see one of General Felipe de Ugalde's champans arrive at the shore; it had been sent to scout the area under the guise of selling goods. Under the pretense of checking out the merchandise, Father Fray Gonzalo boarded the vessel and informed the captain about their dire situation. However, this effort didn’t yield any results, as the champan was deliberately steered away from the location of the commander who had sent it. Still, the clergy were comforted by the belief that help would arrive soon. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Zambals came, plundering and killing, as far as the slope of Baduc, but they could not pass from that place to the province of Cagayán, on account of the resistance made by Alférez Lorenzo Arqueros with a troop of Ilocans and Cagayans. The bishop and the fathers were well aware of the greedy anxiety of the Zambals to plunder the valuables that were in the house of his illustrious Lordship—who, hearing reports of the abominations, thefts, and murders which they had committed in the churches, summoned them before him, and, when most of them were assembled, publicly cursed and excommunicated all those who should hereafter kill, or meddle with things belonging to the churches or to his house. Immediately after this, a sermon was preached to them by the father vicar-provincial, Fray Bernardino Márquez, rebuking them for the evil that they did instead of keeping the law of the Christians—for such were the greater part of the Zambal army. They listened very attentively to the sermon, much to the satisfaction of the bishop; and, as he always did when affairs of importance came before his illustrious Lordship, he availed himself of the Augustinian religious (especially of father Fray Gonzalo de la Palma), on account of the secular clergy being unacceptable to the Zambals. Nor is it to be doubted that not only the clerics but his illustrious Lordship would have perished, if it had not been for our religious, as is fully proved by letters written to the supreme government by the illustrious Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas.

The Zambals came, looting and killing, as far as the slope of Baduc, but they couldn't move from that spot to the province of Cagayán because of the resistance put up by Alférez Lorenzo Arqueros with a group of Ilocanos and Cagayans. The bishop and the fathers knew well about the Zambals' greedy desire to steal the valuables in the house of his illustrious Lordship—who, upon hearing reports of the atrocities, thefts, and murders they had committed in the churches, summoned them to him. When most of them gathered, he publicly cursed and excommunicated anyone who would kill or touch things that belonged to the churches or to his house. Immediately after this, Fray Bernardino Márquez, the father vicar-provincial, preached a sermon to them, scolding them for the evil they were doing instead of following the Christian law—since most of the Zambal army were indeed Christians. They listened attentively to the sermon, which pleased the bishop. As was his custom when important matters arose, he called upon the Augustinian religious (especially father Fray Gonzalo de la Palma), because the secular clergy were not acceptable to the Zambals. It’s clear that not only the clerics but his illustrious Lordship would have been in great danger if it hadn't been for our religious, as fully documented in letters written to the supreme government by the illustrious Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas.

As soon as the coming of the Zambals was known, much silver belonging to the churches, and much silver and gold of private persons, were buried in [198]different places; but on Wednesday afternoon the Zambals began to open [these] tombs, until no silver or gold was left. Our Lord granted that some of the church silver should afterward be restored; but all the gold and silver of private persons was lost. Father Fray Gonzalo asked permission of the Zambal leader, Don Jacinto, to dig up the silver belonging to the church of Taguding; Don Jacinto gave this, and promised that he would, for the father’s greater safety, assist him in person. He did so, as he had promised; but while they were engaged in digging up the silver the Zambals rushed to the house of the bishop, and pillaged whatever hampers and chests they found under the house—with so much violence and clamor that the religious, affrighted, took refuge in the apartments of his illustrious Lordship.

As soon as news of the Zambals arrival spread, a lot of silver from the churches, as well as private silver and gold, were buried in [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] various locations; but on Wednesday afternoon, the Zambals started to open [these] tombs until there was no silver or gold left. Thankfully, our Lord allowed some of the church silver to be recovered later, but all the gold and silver belonging to private individuals was lost. Father Fray Gonzalo requested permission from the Zambal leader, Don Jacinto, to excavate the silver from the church of Taguding; Don Jacinto agreed and promised to assist him for his safety. He kept his promise, but while they were busy digging up the silver, the Zambals stormed the bishop's house and ransacked everything they found under it—with such violence and uproar that the religious, frightened, took refuge in the apartments of his illustrious Lordship.

[The eagerness of the Zambals for plunder soon induces them to send the bishop and the priests to Santa Catalina, so that they may loot the bishop’s house and whatever of value remains in it. On the way they see many corpses of Indians slain by the foe; the village of Bantay is burned, only the church and convent, and a tiled house, are left standing. Arrived at Santa Catalina, the Zambals who escort the priests proceed to plunder and burn that village; and the fathers are unable to procure any food until the next day, save a little rice, and are compelled to flee for their lives from the flames—finally spending the second day with no shelter save a tree, and no food save what is given them by the Zambals from whom they beg it as alms.]

[The Zambals' eagerness for loot quickly leads them to send the bishop and the priests to Santa Catalina to rob the bishop’s house and take whatever valuables are left. During the journey, they come across many corpses of Indians killed by their enemies; the village of Bantay is burned down, with only the church, convent, and one tiled house still standing. Once they reach Santa Catalina, the Zambals escorting the priests begin to loot and set fire to that village as well. The priests struggle to find any food until the next day, managing only a bit of rice, and are forced to escape for their lives from the flames—ultimately spending the second day with only a tree for shelter and whatever the Zambals give them as food.]

In the afternoon came Don Marcos Macasián to notify the fathers of the order given by his chief, [199]Don Jacinto, that the bishop and the rest who were with him should go on with the rebel army, which included three hundred Ilocan Indians—some forced to join them, and others who were traitors; counting these with the Pangasinans and Zambals, the whole number was about three thousand. He brought some talabones46 in which the bishop and the fathers were accommodated—although but poorly, on account of the few men available to carry them, and the ill-will of the bearers. On this account, and so that they might aid the bishop, who was in poor health, the religious and the priests were reduced to traveling on foot over most of the route from Santa Catalina to Narbacán—where it is necessary to go through the Agayayos, which are certain cliffs very difficult of passage.... In the middle of the [second] day they reached Agayayos, and at nine in the night they entered Narbacán. At the entrance to this village the Zambals had a skirmish with the Indians of that district, who, allied with the Tinguianes, did all the harm that they could to the Zambals. So daring were they that they seized and carried away one of the men who were escorting the fathers, and, without his companions being able to prevent it, the assailants cut off his head, and ran into the woods. In this manner more than four hundred Zambals had already died. Moreover, they had thickly planted the road from Narbacán with sharp stakes, in order that the Zambals might not use it; and for this reason [200]the fathers suffered greatly, because they traveled on foot. As soon as they arrived at Narbacán, they notified the native governor [gobernadorcillo], (who was the father of the traitor Don Juan de Pacadua), who gave the fathers sufficient cause to fear; for between him and his blacks he held the fathers fast, unwilling to let them go, by saying that he preferred that they should be entertained in his own house, which was quite spacious, and not in the convent, which was ill supplied. The fathers would not go anywhere except to the convent, and thus the contest lasted until the arrival of the bishop; he also insisted on going to the convent, with which they gained their point; and the captain of the village went with them, to escort them and light the way. They arrived at the convent, where they found not even water to drink; then the father went out to get some, and to find also a little rice [morisqueta] for the bishop, of which he was in great need.

In the afternoon, Don Marcos Macasián came to inform the fathers about the order given by his superior, Don Jacinto, that the bishop and those with him should join the rebel army, which had three hundred Ilocano Indians—some forced to join, while others were traitors. When adding the Pangasinans and Zambals, the total number was about three thousand. He brought some **talabones** in which the bishop and the fathers were placed—although it was quite cramped due to the few men available to carry them and the unwillingness of the bearers. Because of this, and to support the bishop, who was in poor health, the clergy and priests were mostly forced to walk from Santa Catalina to Narbacán—where they had to pass through the Agayayos, a series of very steep cliffs. They reached Agayayos by midday on the second day, and at nine that night, they arrived in Narbacán. At the entrance of this village, the Zambals had a confrontation with the local Indians, who, allied with the Tinguianes, did everything they could to harm the Zambals. They were so bold that they captured one of the men escorting the fathers, and despite his companions' efforts to stop them, the attackers beheaded him and fled into the woods. More than four hundred Zambals had already been killed. Additionally, they heavily lined the road from Narbacán with sharp stakes to prevent the Zambals from using it; as a result, the fathers suffered greatly because they had to walk. Once they arrived in Narbacán, they notified the native governor (who was the father of the traitor Don Juan de Pacadua), which caused the fathers to worry; he and his men held the fathers back, unwilling to let them leave, claiming he preferred to host them in his spacious house rather than in the poorly supplied convent. The fathers insisted on going only to the convent, and the disagreement continued until the bishop arrived, who also insisted on going to the convent, which allowed them to achieve their desired outcome; the village captain accompanied them to escort and light the way. They arrived at the convent, where they found there wasn't even water to drink. Then one of the fathers went out to fetch some, hoping to find a little rice for the bishop, as he was in urgent need of it.

On the following day, January 31, the entire Zambal army encamped in Narbacán; it had been awaited by the leader, Don Jacinto Macasiag, who had been detained in Vigan by his plan of attacking a champan sent by Don Felipe de Ugalde with more than twenty soldiers. Don Jacinto returned to Narbacán, without having been able to carry out the intention which had delayed him; and found at Narbacán a letter from his kinglet, Don Andrés Malóng. The latter informed him of the arrival of the Spanish forces in his kingdom, for which reason Don Jacinto must make haste to go there with troops under him, so that they and his own men might together put an end to the “Spanish rabble;” and he must carry thither with him the Indian chiefs of the villages that [201]they had conquered, so that these might be witnesses of the rebels’ valor against the Spaniards. Many were the letters and papers written by that infernal monster to all the Indian chiefs in all the provinces; and in the last ones written to Don Jacinto Macasiag, which the bearers concealed without giving them to him, he ordered Don Jacinto to burn all the villages with their churches and convents, and to retreat to the woods with the Zambals, since he had already conquered the Spaniards. But the result was quite different; for when he wrote it Don Jacinto had already fled and taken refuge in the hills, and the Spaniards were pursuing him.

On the next day, January 31, the entire Zambal army set up camp in Narbacán. Their leader, Don Jacinto Macasiag, who had been held up in Vigan by plans to attack a champan sent by Don Felipe de Ugalde with over twenty soldiers, was waiting for them. Don Jacinto returned to Narbacán without being able to execute his plan that had delayed him and found a letter from his kinglet, Don Andrés Malóng. Don Andrés informed him about the arrival of Spanish forces in his territory, which meant that Don Jacinto needed to hurry there with his troops so they could team up and deal with the "Spanish rabble." He also had to bring the Indian chiefs from the villages they had conquered as witnesses to the rebels’ bravery against the Spaniards. There were plenty of letters and documents written by that terrible monster to all the Indian chiefs across the provinces, and in the latest ones addressed to Don Jacinto Macasiag, which the messengers hid from him, he ordered Don Jacinto to burn all the villages along with their churches and convents and to retreat into the woods with the Zambals, claiming he had already defeated the Spaniards. However, the reality was quite different; by the time he wrote that, Don Jacinto had already escaped and taken refuge in the hills, with the Spaniards hot on his trail.

When the Zambals saw the letter from Malóng, they began to clamor against the natives of Narbacán, on account of the injuries which they had received from the latter; and they swore that for this cause they would kill them and burn their village. But they did not fulfil the latter threat, nor dare to carry out the first, not only because the Indians had concealed themselves in the woods, but on account of the fear that the Zambals had conceived of them—especially of the Indian who led them in battle, named Don Felipe Madamba, a native of the village of Bringas; he was so loyal to his Majesty, and so valiant, that he dashed alone, on horseback, among the Zambals and Calanasas, cutting off their heads, without any one being able to resist him. He was able to escape from these affrays, but his horse and he were covered with the arrows which they shot at him, although not one of these caused him any injury worth mention.

When the Zambals saw the letter from Malóng, they started to shout against the people of Narbacán because of the harm they had suffered from them. They vowed to kill them and burn their village. However, they didn't follow through on that threat, nor did they dare to act on their first intention, not just because the Indians had hidden themselves in the woods, but also due to the fear the Zambals felt—especially of the Indian who led them in battle, named Don Felipe Madamba, a native of the village of Bringas. He was incredibly loyal to his Majesty and so brave that he charged alone on horseback into the Zambals and Calanasas, beheading them as he went, with no one able to stop him. He managed to escape from these battles, but both he and his horse were covered in arrows that were shot at them, although none of them caused any serious injury.

On the same day (that of St. Ignatius the martyr), the army of the Zambals set out to go to Pangasinán, [202]leaving part of the village of Narbacán in flames; the fathers, having compassion for those people, entreated the leader, Don Jacinto, to order his men to put out the fire. He did so, by a public order; and immediately they extinguished the flames. Litters and carriers were already provided for the bishop and the fathers, that they might follow the army; but they all, with one voice and opinion, told the guards that they would not depart from Narbacán, even though it should cost them their lives. When the guards perceived their firm resolution, they notified their chief, Don Jacinto Macasiag, who was willing that the fathers should remain; but when this decision was learned by Gumapos, who had marched ahead, he commanded his arquebusiers to go there and slay the bishop and all the ecclesiastics. They would have carried out this order, if Don Marcos Macasián had not dissuaded Gumapos from it—the latter saying that the fathers did not serve in the army, and that they were more of a hindrance than anything else, and it was therefore better to kill them.

On the same day (the feast of St. Ignatius the martyr), the Zambal army set out for Pangasinán, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]leaving part of Narbacán in flames. The priests, feeling compassion for the villagers, asked their leader, Don Jacinto, to give orders for his men to extinguish the fire. He agreed and issued a public order; right away, they put out the flames. Litters and carriers had already been arranged for the bishop and the priests, so they could follow the army, but all of them unitedly told the guards that they wouldn’t leave Narbacán, even if it meant losing their lives. When the guards saw their determination, they informed their chief, Don Jacinto Macasiag, who was open to the idea of the priests staying behind. However, when Gumapos, who had moved ahead, learned of this decision, he commanded his gunmen to go there and kill the bishop and all the clergy. They would have carried out this order if Don Marcos Macasián hadn't convinced Gumapos otherwise, stating that the priests didn’t belong to the army and were more of a burden than anything else, suggesting it would be better to eliminate them.

[On the third day after the departure of the enemy, the people of Narbacán return to their homes. The bishop is accidentally hurt, and Fray Bernardino becomes ill—both cases being aggravated by the sufferings which they endured while in the hands of the Zambals.] Generals Francisco de Esteybar and Felipe de Ugalde were in Pangasinán, uncertain in what part of the country the enemy might still be, in order to send thither their forces; for, although General Ugalde had sent two champans to reconnoiter the coasts of the provinces of Ilocos and Cagayán, they had not returned with their report. By land, he had no letter from either the alcaldes [203]or the religious of those provinces. With this, and the assurances of the fathers of St. Dominic in the province of Pangasinán that those of Ilocos and Cagayán were free from enemies, the commanders were perplexed, and almost determined to withdraw their forces from those provinces. Our Lord permitted that, the champan in which Alcalde-mayor Don Alonso de Peralta and the father visitor Fray Juan de Isla were sailing having landed at Bolinao, they should learn there how the Spanish armada was in Pangasinán; accordingly, they directed their course thither, and, having arrived, found the commanders and related to them the wretched condition in which that province of Ilocos was left. In consequence of this information, Francisco de Esteybar at once gave orders that the army should set out for that province. Before Francisco de Esteybar departed from Binalatongan, he left the place fortified, with a stronghold in the court of the church; it had four sentry-posts, four pieces of bronze artillery carrying four-libra balls, and four officers—Captains Don Alonso Quirante, Juan Diaz Ibáñez, Don Juan de Guzmán, and Nicolás Serrano. As chief commander he left Sargento-mayor Domingo Martín Barrena, with some infantry—Spaniards, Merdicas, and creole negroes [criollos morenos]. The alcalde-mayor returned in his champan to Vigán, and fathers Fray Juan de Isla and Fray Luis de la Fuente marched with the Spanish army, which on its way reached the village of Santa Cruz. The Zambals left Narbacán, and, reaching the village of Santa María, sacked and burned it, as well as the convent; they did the same at San Esteban and the village of Santiago—to whose patron [i.e., St. James] was attributed [204]their failure to burn the church, although they set fire to it. They burned and plundered the villages of San Pedro and Candón, going from the latter to that of Santa Cruz. There they learned that the Spaniards were at Santa Lucía; then they collected many of the valuables and cloths which they had plundered and set fire to them, and they set out in search of the Spaniards, who also were coming with the same object. The latter, ignorant of the enemy’s proximity, learned of it by an accident; this was, that father Fray Juan de la Isla, having pushed ahead of the Spanish army, encountered a party of Zambals, from whom he escaped by a miracle. Father Fray Juan warned the Spaniards of the Zambals’ approach, and they forthwith set out to fight the enemy. The armies came into sight of each other between the villages of Santa Cruz and Santa Lucía, and General Francisco de Esteybar at once commanded that the signal for attack be given. The Zambals twice engaged our men, with fierceness and loud shouts; but they were finally conquered by the Spaniards—more than four hundred Zambals being killed, and the greater part of their force taken prisoners. One of these was Don Pedro Gumapos, holding in his hand the staff of the bishop, thus being fulfilled what the holy prelate had prophesied to him.

[On the third day after the enemy left, the people of Narbacán returned home. The bishop got hurt by accident, and Fray Bernardino fell ill—both situations worsened by the suffering they experienced at the hands of the Zambals.] Generals Francisco de Esteybar and Felipe de Ugalde were in Pangasinán, unsure of where the enemy might still be so they could send their forces. Although General Ugalde had sent two champans to scout the coasts of Ilocos and Cagayán, they had not come back with any reports. He hadn’t received any letters from either the alcaldes [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] or the religious leaders of those provinces. With this lack of information, and the assurance from the Dominican fathers in Pangasinán that Ilocos and Cagayán were free from enemies, the commanders were confused and almost decided to pull their forces from those provinces. Fortunately, the champan carrying Alcalde-mayor Don Alonso de Peralta and the father visitor Fray Juan de Isla landed at Bolinao, where they learned that the Spanish armada was in Pangasinán; they then headed there and reported to the commanders the dire situation in Ilocos. In light of this information, Francisco de Esteybar immediately ordered the army to move to that province. Before Francisco de Esteybar left Binalatongan, he fortified the place, establishing a stronghold in the church courtyard; it had four sentry posts, four pieces of bronze artillery that fired four-pound balls, and four officers—Captains Don Alonso Quirante, Juan Diaz Ibáñez, Don Juan de Guzmán, and Nicolás Serrano. He appointed Sargento-mayor Domingo Martín Barrena as chief commander, along with some infantry—Spaniards, Merdicas, and creole negroes [criollos morenos]. The alcalde-mayor returned in his champan to Vigán, and fathers Fray Juan de Isla and Fray Luis de la Fuente marched with the Spanish army, which eventually arrived at the village of Santa Cruz. The Zambals left Narbacán, and upon reaching the village of Santa María, they looted and burned it, including the convent; they did the same in San Esteban and the village of Santiago—whose patron [i.e., St. James] was believed to be responsible for [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] their failure to completely burn the church, although they did set it on fire. They looted and burned the villages of San Pedro and Candón, moving from the latter to Santa Cruz. There they learned that the Spaniards were at Santa Lucía; then they gathered many of the valuables and clothes they had stolen, set them on fire, and went in search of the Spaniards, who were also heading towards them. The Spaniards, unaware of the enemy's closeness, found out by chance; this happened when Father Fray Juan de la Isla, having gone ahead of the Spanish army, ran into a group of Zambals, from whom he miraculously escaped. Father Fray Juan warned the Spaniards that the Zambals were approaching, and they quickly set out to confront the enemy. The two armies met between the villages of Santa Cruz and Santa Lucía, and General Francisco de Esteybar immediately ordered the signal to attack. The Zambals engaged our men fiercely, with loud shouts, twice; but they were ultimately defeated by the Spaniards—over four hundred Zambals were killed, and most of their forces were captured. One of those captured was Don Pedro Gumapos, holding the bishop's staff, fulfilling what the holy prelate had prophesied to him.

The victory completed, Francisco de Esteybar withdrew with his army to Namacpacán, where he had left Captain Simón de Fuentes with a division of the army; they took with them Gumapos and many other prisoners, and afterward sent them to Vigán. There, in company with others, they hanged the rebel leader, and after his death cut off that sacrilegious [205]hand, which was fastened near the house of the bishop. The loss of the Spaniards was very small, but a circumstance worthy of admiration was noted; it was that, not only in this battle but in other encounters which had occurred, all those of the Zambal army who were slain lay face downward, and all the dead of the Spanish army had their faces turned upward—as if by this God had chosen to show that the Zambals died under the curse and excommunication of the bishop. On account of this so fortunate success, Generals Francisco de Esteybar and Felipe de Ugalde talked of returning to Manila, believing that now everything was quiet; but information came to them of the new uprising by the Indians of Bacarra, and Francisco de Esteybar at once ordered the army to march to that village. The manner in which those Indians revolted is as follows: I have already pointed out the multitude of letters and documents which the usurping king Malóng wrote [to the leading men] everywhere—more especially to Don Juan Magsanop and Don Pedro Almazán. The latter was a very rich chief, a native of the village of San Nicolás (then a visita of Ilauag), and so bitterly hostile to the Spaniards that he kept in his house as many pairs of fetters as there were fathers and Spaniards in the entire province, in order to fasten these on them when he should have opportunity. This Don Pedro Almazán formed an alliance with Don Juan Magsanop, a native of Bangi, a visita of the village of Bacarra; and with Don Gaspar Cristóbal, headman of Ilauag, and a native of that village. The former, in order to make sure of Don Gaspar Cristóbal, asked him for his daughter, to marry her to his own oldest son; and [206]these three Indians, as being so influential, continually stirred up others to join their conspiracy, and called in the Calanasa tribe to aid them.

The victory completed, Francisco de Esteybar and his army withdrew to Namacpacán, where he had left Captain Simón de Fuentes with a division of the army. They brought along Gumapos and many other prisoners, later sending them to Vigán. There, along with others, they hanged the rebel leader and, after his death, cut off that sacrilegious [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]hand, which was displayed near the bishop's house. The Spaniards suffered very few losses, but one remarkable detail was noted: not only in this battle but in other encounters as well, all the dead from the Zambal army were found lying face down, while all the Spanish soldiers lay face up—as if God chose to signify that the Zambals died under the curse and excommunication of the bishop. Because of this fortunate success, Generals Francisco de Esteybar and Felipe de Ugalde considered returning to Manila, believing everything was now calm; however, they received news of a new uprising by the Indians of Bacarra, and Francisco de Esteybar immediately ordered the army to march to that village. The way the Indians revolted is as follows: I have already mentioned the numerous letters and documents that the usurping king Malóng sent [to the leading men] everywhere—especially to Don Juan Magsanop and Don Pedro Almazán. The latter was a wealthy chief from the village of San Nicolás (then a visita of Ilauag), and he was so fiercely opposed to the Spaniards that he kept as many pairs of shackles in his house as there were Spaniards in the entire province, ready to use them whenever he had the chance. This Don Pedro Almazán allied himself with Don Juan Magsanop, a native of Bangi, a visita of Bacarra; and with Don Gaspar Cristóbal, the headman of Ilauag and a native of that village. To ensure Don Gaspar's loyalty, he proposed marrying his daughter to his own oldest son; and [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]these three influential Indians continuously incited others to join their conspiracy and enlisted the help of the Calanasa tribe.

The Calanasas were heathen barbarians who lived in the clefts of the mountains and other rocky places, and their only occupation was the killing of men and animals. Feeling safe with such aid as this, the leaders of the conspiracy undertook to make Don Pedro Almazán king of the province of Ilocos, and they swore allegiance to his son as prince; the latter celebrated his wedding with the daughter of Don Gaspar Cristóbal, as they had agreed. In order that the [former] function might be celebrated with all solemnity and not lack what was requisite, they plundered the church in the village of Ilauag, and with the crown which they took from the head of the Queen of Angels (who is venerated in that church) they crowned Don Pedro Almazán as king and the married pair as princes. All these proceedings were carried on so secretly that they could never be traced; and in this condition of their plot the letter of Don Andrés Malóng found them, in which he notified them that he had conquered the Spaniards. As now they were free, in their own opinion, from that danger, and safe from the Zambals, who were on their march from Pangasinán, it seemed to them now time to bring to light their depraved intentions. Before doing so, Don Juan Magsanop wrote from Bacarra a letter to Don Gaspar Cristóbal, in which he asked what opinion the latter had reached, and that he be informed of it. The reply which Don Gaspar Cristóbal gave was to take a fagot of reeds in his hand, and himself set fire to the church in Ilauag; and he ordered the bearer of the [207]letter to carry back that reply. When this was known to Magsanop, he made himself known, with banners displayed, at Bacarra at the end of January, 1661, and sent word to the Calanasas to come down with all speed to his aid. In the rebel league were joined the villages of Pata and Cabicungán, administered by the fathers of St. Dominic, their minister at that time being father Fray José Santa María; hearing the tumult and the shouts of the rebels, he went out of the convent, against the advice of a Spaniard (whose name is not known) who had taken refuge in it. Father Fray José persisted in his resolution, but as soon as the rebels saw him many attacked him; and, piercing him with many javelins they cut off his head, and with great delight went to sack the convent. They made the attack by way of the church, the doors of which were locked; but the brave Spaniard, now bereft of the father, when he heard their clamor from within fastened all the windows and doors that he could reach, and loaded two guns that he had inside. The servants of the father who had remained there kept loading the guns for him, and, aiming through some loopholes or apertures, they allowed the multitude to come close to the building, and then fired, without a shot failing to hit. He accomplished so much that the rebels, persuaded that some company of soldiers were inside the church, retreated without executing their purpose of sacking and burning the church and convent.

The Calanasas were savage barbarians who lived in the mountain crevices and other rocky areas, and their only activities involved killing people and animals. Feeling secure with such support, the leaders of the conspiracy decided to make Don Pedro Almazán the king of the province of Ilocos, swearing loyalty to his son as prince. The son celebrated his wedding to the daughter of Don Gaspar Cristóbal, as agreed. To ensure the former function was carried out with all due ceremony and not lacking in necessities, they looted the church in the village of Ilauag, and with the crown they took from the head of the Queen of Angels (who is honored in that church), they crowned Don Pedro Almazán as king and the newlyweds as princes. All of these actions were conducted so secretly that they could never be traced, and amidst their plot, the letter from Don Andrés Malóng found them, notifying that he had defeated the Spaniards. Now believing themselves free from that danger and safe from the Zambals marching from Pangasinán, they decided it was the right time to reveal their wicked plans. Before doing so, Don Juan Magsanop sent a letter from Bacarra to Don Gaspar Cristóbal, asking for his thoughts on the matter and for an update. In response, Don Gaspar Cristóbal took a bundle of reeds in his hand and set fire to the church in Ilauag, instructing the messenger of the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]letter to return with that response. When Magsanop learned of this, he made his presence known with banners displayed at Bacarra at the end of January 1661, sending word to the Calanasas to come quickly to his aid. The rebel alliance included the villages of Pata and Cabicungán, overseen by the Dominican fathers, with Fray José Santa María as their minister at that time. When he heard the uproar and shouting from the rebels, he left the convent despite the advice of a Spaniard (whose name remains unknown) who had sought refuge there. Father Fray José was determined to go, but as soon as the rebels saw him, many attacked; they pierced him with numerous javelins, beheaded him, and joyfully went to loot the convent. They approached through the church, which was locked, but the brave Spaniard, now left without the father, hearing their clamor from inside, secured all the windows and doors he could reach and loaded two guns he had inside. The father's servants who remained there helped load the guns for him, aiming through some openings, allowing the crowd to come close to the building, then firing, with every shot hitting its mark. He achieved so much that the rebels, convinced there was a company of soldiers inside the church, retreated without executing their plan to sack and burn the church and convent.

On the first of February this melancholy tidings reached the village of Narbacán, where there were nine religious of the order of our father St. Augustine, exchanging congratulations and expressions of joy over the freedom that they were beginning to [208]enjoy with the departure, that day, of the Zambal army. All their joy was changed into sadness and perplexity by the news of what had occurred at Ilauag; but the one who felt this most was father Fray José Arias, at that time prior of the village of Bacarra. [Feeling that duty calls him to go back, there, he does so, although against the entreaties of his brethren. His people welcome his return, but at the news that the Calanasas are approaching all take to flight, carrying the friar with them; but later they leave him in the house of a native helper. “The streets were full of rebels and Calanasas, who with loud shouts and yells acclaimed Don Pedro Almazán as king, and threatened all the Spaniards with death.” Fray José and the helper plan to escape by night, but an envoy from the rebels warns the latter to drive the friar from his house, or they will kill him and his family; frightened at this, he carries the father to another house. “In a little while Don Tomás Bisaya, one of the heads of the conspiracy, sent a mulatto named Juan (who had been a servant of the fathers) with some men, and an order to Fray José to enter a petaca47, so that he could escape to the village of Ilauag.” He does this, and the party set out for that village; but on the way they meet a party of rebels, who kill the father, cut off his head, and carry it to Magsanop. Diaz here copies the relation of this affair which was sent to the Augustinians throughout the province, a letter from the provincial, Fray Diego de Ordás, citing the account sent to him by Bishop Cárdenas. “Magsanop and the other tyrants celebrated this victory, all drinking from the skull of the venerable father, which served in their [209]barbarous proceedings as a precious vase.... After several days his head was ransomed, and interred with his body.”]

On February 1st, news of a tragedy reached the village of Narbacán, where nine members of the Order of St. Augustine were sharing congratulations and expressions of joy over the freedom they were starting to enjoy with the departure of the Zambal army that day. Their happiness quickly turned to sadness and confusion with the news of what had happened in Ilauag; among them, Father Fray José Arias, who was the prior of the village of Bacarra at that time, felt it the most. He felt compelled to return there, despite his brothers' pleas for him to stay. His people welcomed his return, but when they heard that the Calanasas were approaching, everyone fled, taking the friar with them; later, they left him in the house of a local helper. "The streets were filled with rebels and Calanasas, who shouted loudly, declaring Don Pedro Almazán as king and threatening to kill all the Spaniards." Fray José and the helper planned to escape at night, but a messenger from the rebels warned the helper to evict the friar from his house or they would kill him and his family; terrified, he moved the friar to another house. "Soon after, Don Tomás Bisaya, one of the leaders of the conspiracy, sent a mulatto named Juan (who had been a servant of the friars) along with some men and an order to Fray José to enter a petaca47 so that he could escape to the village of Ilauag." He complied, and the group set out for that village; but on the way, they encountered a group of rebels who killed the friar, severed his head, and took it to Magsanop. Diaz recounts the details of this incident, which were sent to the Augustinians throughout the province in a letter from the provincial, Fray Diego de Ordás, citing the account provided to him by Bishop Cárdenas. "Magsanop and the other tyrants celebrated their victory, drinking from the skull of the venerable father, which served as a precious vessel in their [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]barbarous proceedings.... After several days, his head was ransomed and buried with his body."

The army of General Francisco de Esteybar marched to Bacarra, but the first to arrive was Lorenzo Arqueros, with a detachment of more than a thousand men, Ilocans and Cagayans; the rebels and the Calanasas, not daring to face these, retreated with all speed to the woods, but Lorenzo Arqueros did not fail to search for them, in whatever places they had concealed themselves. He seized Magsanop, who, angered at seeing himself a prisoner, drew a dagger and killed himself with it, a worthy punishment for his sacrilegious perfidy. Don Pedro Almazán, who had taken horse to flee, burst into a fury, and died raging;48 and all his children met wretched deaths.

The army of General Francisco de Esteybar marched to Bacarra, but the first to arrive was Lorenzo Arqueros, leading a group of over a thousand men, Ilocans and Cagayans. The rebels and the Calanasas, not wanting to confront them, quickly retreated into the woods, but Lorenzo Arqueros made sure to search for them wherever they had hidden. He captured Magsanop, who, furious at being taken prisoner, drew a dagger and took his own life, a fitting punishment for his treacherous betrayal. Don Pedro Almazán, who had tried to escape on horseback, went into a rage and died in a frenzy; 48 and all his children met tragic ends.

General Francisco de Esteybar arrived with all his army at the village of Bacarra, but Lorenzo Arqueros had it already reduced to quiet, so that the general had nothing to do, except to order that a fort be built in Bacarra and garrisoned with soldiers, so as to secure the province from other disturbances. General Sebastián Rayo Doria gave orders for the execution of the commission which he bore, by agreement of the royal Audiencia, to administer justice to those who were most guilty; his military judge was Licentiate Don Juan de Rosales, and the notary was Nicolás de Herrera, who began their official duties, bringing legal proceedings [against the rebels]. The penalties of justice were inflicted as follows: In Vigán, Don Pedro Gumapos was [210]shot through the back, and afterward the hand with which he took the staff from the bishop was cut off; and Don Cristóbal Ambagán, Don Pedro Almazán, Don Tomás Boaya,49 Don Pedro de la Peña, and others, to the number of sixteen, were hanged. In Binalatongan was erected a square gallows, as in Vigán, and the following were hanged: Don Melchor de Vera, Don Francisco de Pacadua, Don Francisco Along, and Don Jacinto Macasiag; a Sangley mestizo, named Domingo Isón, although he said that he died innocent; a man of half-Malabar blood, named Lorenzo; and others, to the number of fourteen. It is quite remarkable that, when the sacristans were in the [church] tower with orders from the father ministers to toll the bells as soon as each of those who were hanged was dead, when it came to the turn of Domingo Isón they rang a peal instead of tolling, without having had an order for it; in this it seems as if the divine Majesty chose to demonstrate his innocence, as it was afterward ascertained. They promptly shot Don Andrés Malóng, placed in the middle, seated on a stone; and this was the end of his unhappy reign in Pangasinán. Afterward, in Mexico, punishment was inflicted on Don Francisco and Don Cristóbal Mañago, who were shot; and some were hanged—Don Juan Palasigui, Don Marcos Marcasián, Sargento-mayor Chombillo, Supil and Baluyot of Guagua, the amanuensis, and many others. José Celis, the lawyer, was carried to Manila, where he was hanged. After these executions, Licentiate Manuel Suárez de Olivera, [211]the senior advocate of the royal Audiencia, printed a treatise against Don Juan de Rosales, in which he condemned the excessive rigor of these punishments. This was answered by Don Juan de Rosales with another pamphlet—very learned, which also was printed—whose theme was Feci judicium et justitiam, non tradas me calumniantibus me, drawn from Psalm 118,50 justifying his proceedings to the satisfaction of those who were free from prejudice.

General Francisco de Esteybar arrived with his entire army at the village of Bacarra, but Lorenzo Arqueros had already restored order, so the general could only order the construction of a fort in Bacarra to secure the province from future disturbances. General Sebastián Rayo Doria was tasked with carrying out a commission, agreed upon by the royal Audiencia, to administer justice to those most responsible; his military judge was Licentiate Don Juan de Rosales, and the notary was Nicolás de Herrera, who began their official duties by initiating legal action against the rebels. The penalties were carried out as follows: In Vigán, Don Pedro Gumapos was [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]shot in the back, and afterward, the hand he used to take the staff from the bishop was severed; Don Cristóbal Ambagán, Don Pedro Almazán, Don Tomás Boaya, Don Pedro de la Peña, and others—sixteen in total—were hanged. In Binalatongan, a square gallows was set up, just like in Vigán, and the following were hanged: Don Melchor de Vera, Don Francisco de Pacadua, Don Francisco Along, and Don Jacinto Macasiag; a mestizo named Domingo Isón was also hanged, although he claimed he was innocent; a man of half-Malabar descent named Lorenzo; and others, totaling fourteen. It’s quite noteworthy that when the sacristans were in the church tower under orders from the father ministers to toll the bells as soon as each hanged person had died, they rang a peal instead when it was Domingo Isón’s turn, even though they hadn’t been instructed to do so; it seemed as if divine Majesty wanted to affirm his innocence, which was later confirmed. They quickly shot Don Andrés Malóng, who was seated on a stone in the middle; this marked the end of his unfortunate reign in Pangasinán. Later, in Mexico, punishment was meted out to Don Francisco and Don Cristóbal Mañago, who were shot, and several others were hanged—Don Juan Palasigui, Don Marcos Marcasián, Sargento-mayor Chombillo, Supil and Baluyot of Guagua, the scribe, and many more. José Celis, the lawyer, was taken to Manila, where he was hanged. After these executions, Licentiate Manuel Suárez de Olivera, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]the senior advocate of the royal Audiencia, published a treatise against Don Juan de Rosales, criticizing the harshness of these punishments. Don Juan de Rosales responded with another pamphlet—which was also printed—entitled Feci judicium et justitiam, non tradas me calumniantibus me, taken from Psalm 118, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]defending his actions to the satisfaction of those who were unbiased.

Thus was quenched that infernal fire which kindled discord in the hearts of the natives of the provinces of Pampanga and Pangasinán, and of the Indians of the village of Bacarra in Ilocos—a fire which threatened to consume the peace and obedience of the other provinces of these islands, whose people were on the watch for its outcome, in order to declare themselves [rebels] and prove Fortune, and to gain what seemed to them liberty. But this would have been, quite to the contrary, their entire perdition; for, escaping from their civilized subjection to the Spaniards, they would have fallen back into the barbarous tyranny of their own people—which, like chips from the same log,51 is what most hurts, as experience shows; and the natives themselves know this. They were continually experiencing this in the tumult in Pampanga, for the tyrannical acts and the extortions which they suffered from the principal leaders of the revolt were more grievous than those which they experienced or could fear from subjection to the Spaniards. So true is [212]this that in the village of Guagua it was said by an old chief who survived that time, named Don Pedro Anas, that so great was the confusion and lawlessness, and so tyrannical were the leaders of the outbreak, that if the governor Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara had not come so promptly with his troops, the Indians themselves would have gone to Manila to make their submission at his feet; some of them could not unite with the others, and, although all desired liberty, they did not work together to secure the means for attaining it, and therefore they experienced a heavier [yoke of] subjection. And among the peoples whom God seems to have created that they may live in subjection to others who govern them with justice and authority are those of these Filipinas Islands; for when the Spanish arms conquered them with so great facility they were living without a head, without king or lord to obey—being only tyrannized over by him who among them displayed most courage; and this subjection was continually changing, other men, of greater valor and sagacity, gaining the ascendency.

Thus, that destructive fire that sparked conflict in the hearts of the people from Pampanga and Pangasinán, as well as the Indians from the village of Bacarra in Ilocos, was extinguished—a fire that threatened to disrupt the peace and loyalty of other provinces in these islands. These people were watching closely to see how things unfolded, hoping to rise as rebels and test their luck for what they believed was freedom. But in reality, this would have led to their complete ruin; by escaping from the civilized control of the Spaniards, they would have fallen back into the brutal tyranny of their own people, which, like the chips from the same log, is what causes the most harm, as experience shows, and the natives themselves understand this. They were constantly witnessing this during the turmoil in Pampanga, as the cruel actions and the extortions they suffered from the main leaders of the revolt were more painful than anything they experienced or feared from being under the Spaniards. This is so true that in the village of Guagua, an old chief who lived through that time, named Don Pedro Anas, said that the confusion and lawlessness were so great, and the leaders of the uprising so tyrannical, that if Governor Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara hadn't arrived so quickly with his troops, the Indians themselves would have gone to Manila to submit to him. Some of them couldn't come together with others, and even though they all wanted freedom, they didn't unite to secure the means to achieve it, and as a result, they faced a heavier burden of control. Among the groups that God seems to have created to live under others who govern them with justice and authority are the people of these Philippine Islands; for when the Spanish forces easily conquered them, they were living without a leader, without a king or lord to follow—only being oppressed by the one who among them showed the most courage, with this subjugation always shifting as other men of greater bravery and intelligence took control.

Map of portion of Philippine Islands, drawn by William Hacke, ca. 1680; photographic facsimile

Map of portion of Philippine Islands, drawn by William Hacke, ca. 1680; photographic facsimile

Map of a part of the Philippine Islands, created by William Hacke, ca. 1680; photographic facsimile

[From original manuscript map in the British Museum]

[From original manuscript map in the British Museum]

Nor was the least cause of their reduction the diligent efforts of the religious who were ministers in these provinces, with their notable assiduity in preaching to the natives and exhorting them, with the arguments that we have already stated; and in this task they suffered the greatest hardships and dangers to life. In the province of Ilocos, fathers Fray Bernardino Márquez, Fray Gonzalo de la Palma, Fray Luís de la Fuente, and Fray Juan de Isla. In Pampanga, the following fathers were very prominent in the reduction: in Bacolor, Fray Francisco de Medina Basco; in Guagua, Fray Luís de la [215]Vega; in Lubao, Fray José Botoño; in Mexico, Fray José Cornejo; in Candaba, Fray Pedro de Eguiluz; in Apalit, Fray José de Tapia; in Macabebe, Fray Enrique de Castro; but, more than all, Fray José Duque and Fray Isidro Rodríguez, whose authority among the natives could overcome the greatest difficulties. Information to this effect was given to the royal and supreme Council of the Indias by Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara himself, in Madrid, after his return from his government in the year 1667—when father Fray Isidro Rodríguez was at the same court as procurator for this province, soliciting the numerous mission which he conducted hither, and in which I came, the least of its members.

Nor was the least reason for their success the hard work of the religious ministers in these provinces, who were notably dedicated to preaching to the locals and encouraging them with the arguments we've mentioned earlier; in this effort, they faced severe hardships and risks to their lives. In the province of Ilocos, there were fathers Fray Bernardino Márquez, Fray Gonzalo de la Palma, Fray Luís de la Fuente, and Fray Juan de Isla. In Pampanga, the following fathers were particularly notable in the work: in Bacolor, Fray Francisco de Medina Basco; in Guagua, Fray Luís de la Vega; in Lubao, Fray José Botoño; in Mexico, Fray José Cornejo; in Candaba, Fray Pedro de Eguiluz; in Apalit, Fray José de Tapia; in Macabebe, Fray Enrique de Castro; but above all, Fray José Duque and Fray Isidro Rodríguez, whose influence among the locals could overcome the toughest challenges. This information was provided to the royal and supreme Council of the Indies by Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara himself in Madrid, after his return from his governorship in 1667—when Father Fray Isidro Rodríguez was at the same court as the representative for this province, advocating for the numerous missions he led here, and I was the least of its members.

[Notable among the losses and injuries caused by the Zambal raid was the death of the bishop of Nueva Segovia, Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas, of whom Diaz gives a biographical sketch. He died at Manila, early in May, 1661.]

[Notable among the losses and injuries caused by the Zambal raid was the death of the bishop of Nueva Segovia, Don Fray Rodrigo de Cárdenas, of whom Diaz gives a biographical sketch. He died in Manila, early in May, 1661.]

In Otón (Panay); 1663

In Otón (Panay); 1663

[As related by Diaz in his Conquistas, pp. 640–644.] At the time when this conflagration52—which threatened to destroy what Spanish constancy had gained in these islands during a hundred and ten years—had just been extinguished, another and new one began to burn in the province of Ogtong in Pintados; and, if timely measures had not been taken to check it, this one would have caused greater ravages than the previous rebellions in the provinces of Pampanga, Pangasinán, and Ilocos. This entire province [216]is in charge of our religious. We have in it eight convents and doctrinas—Antique, Guimbal, Tigbauan, Ogtong, Jaro, Dumangas, Laglag, and Pasig53—which belong to the jurisdiction of the alcalde-mayor who resides in Iloilo, where there is a good supply of artillery, with two companies of Spaniards, and one of Pampangos. This province and that of Panay are united in one island, yielding a great abundance of rice; it is the Sicilia of Filipinas for its fertility, and also resembles that island in its extent, and in having three promontories such as gave it the name Trinacria. This island is called Panay, so even its name suits it; for in it there grows so great an abundance of rice, which is the bread of this country. It contains two provinces, governed by two alcaldes-mayor—that of Iloilo, already mentioned, and that of Panay; the latter rules over nine large villages. Of these, six are in charge of the order of our father St. Augustine—Capiz, Panay, Batan, Mambusao, Dumalag, and Dumarao;54 two are administered by secular priests, Aclán and Ibahay; and the island of Romblón is a doctrina of the discalced religious [i.e., Recollects] of our father St. Augustine. [Diaz here refers to the description of Panay and the Augustinian houses therein which [217]is given by Medina, and to the foundation of their convent at Laglag.55] This ministry and doctrina comprises five visitas and dependent churches: two on the river that is called Araut, named Sibucao and Sumandig; and three in the mountains, Misi, Camantugan, and Malonor. These were a cruel and rude people, and greatly addicted to superstitions and heathen rites on account of living so separated from intercourse with the gospel ministers—who throughout the year share, in their turn, in the instruction and administration of these visitas. It cost the first religious many hardships to tame these mountaineers and instruct them in the holy faith; for what they gained with the utmost toil in a week was dissipated during the absence of the religious from their ministry. The village of Malonor always had disguised babaylanes—which is the same as “priests of the demon,” by whose direction the sacrifices which they made proceeded. They offered up swine, birds, and various kinds of food produced by the ground; and held solemn drinking-feasts—the main purpose of the universal enemy [of souls], since from this vice resulted many acts of lewdness and [other] abominations, all which tended to the perdition of their souls.

[As related by Diaz in his Conquistas, pp. 640–644.] Just as the fire that threatened to wipe out a century's worth of Spanish effort in these islands was finally put out, a new fire started in the province of Ogtong in Pintados. If swift action hadn't been taken to stop it, this one could have caused even more damage than the earlier uprisings in Pampanga, Pangasinán, and Ilocos. This entire province [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]is overseen by our religious order. We have eight convents and doctrinas here—Antique, Guimbal, Tigbauan, Ogtong, Jaro, Dumangas, Laglag, and Pasig53—which fall under the jurisdiction of the alcalde-mayor based in Iloilo, where there's a good stockpile of artillery, along with two companies of Spaniards and one of Pampangos. This province and Panay belong to the same island, which produces plenty of rice; it's known as the Sicily of the Philippines for its fertility, and it also resembles Sicily in its size and having three promontories that led to it being called Trinacria. This island is named Panay, which is fitting since it grows an abundance of rice, the staple food of this country. It includes two provinces, each governed by its own alcalde-mayor—the one for Iloilo we mentioned earlier, and another for Panay, which manages nine large villages. Of these, six fall under the order of our father St. Augustine—Capiz, Panay, Batan, Mambusao, Dumalag, and Dumarao;54 two are led by secular priests, Aclán and Ibahay; and the island of Romblón is a doctrina of the discalced religious [i.e., Recollects] of our father St. Augustine. [Diaz here refers to the description of Panay and the Augustinian houses therein which [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]is given by Medina, and to the foundation of their convent at Laglag.55] This ministry and doctrina include five visitas and several dependent churches: two along the river called Araut, named Sibucao and Sumandig; and three in the mountains—Misi, Camantugan, and Malonor. These were a harsh and unrefined people, heavily influenced by superstitions and pagan practices due to their isolation from gospel ministers—who throughout the year took turns providing instruction and administering these visitas. It took the first religious many struggles to reach these mountain dwellers and teach them the holy faith; because what they achieved with great effort in a week could vanish during the religious’ absence from their ministry. The village of Malonor always had hidden babaylanes—meaning "priests of the demon," who guided their sacrifices. They offered pigs, birds, and various food items grown in the soil; and held lavish drinking parties—the main intention of the enemy [of souls], since this vice led to many acts of immorality and other sins, all of which put their souls at risk.

The prior and minister of that district in this year of 1663 was father Fray Francisco de Mesa—a native of the city of Manila,56 and who had professed [218]in our convent of San Pablo; a religious of great virtue, and most zealous and diligent in fulfilling the obligations of his office. In the visita of Malonor there was at this time a malicious Indian, a noted sorcerer and priest of the demon, who lived in concealment in the dense forest; and there he called together the Indians, telling them that he was commanded by the nonos—who are the souls of their first ancestors who came over to people these Filipinas—in whose name he assured them that the demon had appeared to them in trees and caves. This minister of Satan was named Tapar, and went about in the garb of a woman, on account of the office of babaylán and priest of the demon, with whom they supposed that he had a pact and frequent communication. Moreover, he wrought prodigies resembling the miracles, with which he kept that ignorant people deluded.

The prior and minister of that region in the year 1663 was Father Fray Francisco de Mesa—a native of Manila, who had taken his vows in our convent of San Pablo. He was a man of great virtue and was very dedicated to fulfilling the responsibilities of his role. At that time in the visita of Malonor, there was a treacherous Indian, a well-known sorcerer and priest of the demon, who lived hidden in the thick forest. He gathered the Indians, claiming that he was commanded by the nonos—who are the souls of their first ancestors that settled in these Philippines—and assured them that the demon had appeared to them in trees and caves. This minister of Satan was named Tapar, and he dressed as a woman because of his role as a babaylán and priest of the demon, with whom they believed he had a pact and frequent communication. Additionally, he performed wonders that resembled miracles to keep the uneducated people deceived.

With these impostures and frauds Tapar obtained so much influence that the people followed him, revering him as a prophet, and he taught them to worship idols and offer sacrifices to Satan. Seeing that he had many followers, and that his reputation was well established, he made himself known, declaring that he was the Eternal Father; and he invented a diabolical farce, naming one of his most intimate associates for the Son, and another for the Holy Ghost, while to a shameless prostitute they gave the name of María Santisima [“Mary most holy”], as the name of Mary had been given her in [219]baptism.57 Then he appointed apostles, and to others he gave titles of pope and bishops; and in frequent assemblies they committed execrable abominations, performed with frequent drinking-bouts, in which there were shocking fornications among the men and women, both married and unmarried. This debauchery ended with the sacrifice to the demon, who, they said, gave them replies, although confused ones; but all were for their greater perdition; at other times, they believed, the demon appeared to them in various forms. All these things were done in the most retired part of the mountains, which there are very craggy. For a long time this infernal epidemic remained concealed; but finally spread as far as the visitas of the villages of Jaro and Pasig, although those who were infected by it were not so many there as in the village of Malonor, where the morals of those wretched people; deluded by the demon, were more corrupt.

With these deceptions and scams, Tapar gained so much sway that the people followed him, seeing him as a prophet, and he taught them to worship idols and make sacrifices to Satan. Noticing he had many followers and a solid reputation, he revealed himself, claiming to be the Eternal Father; he created a twisted farce, naming one of his closest associates as the Son, and another as the Holy Ghost, while they called a shameless prostitute María Santisima [“Mary most holy”], as that was the name given to her in [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]baptism.57 He then appointed apostles and gave others titles of pope and bishops; during their frequent gatherings, they committed horrendous acts, drinking heavily and engaging in shocking sexual activities among both married and unmarried men and women. This debauchery culminated in a sacrifice to the demon, who they claimed provided responses, albeit confused ones; but all of it led to their greater ruin; at times, they believed the demon appeared to them in different forms. All these activities were carried out in the most secluded parts of the rugged mountains. For a long time, this hellish epidemic remained hidden; however, it eventually spread to the visita areas of the villages of Jaro and Pasig, although fewer people were affected there than in the village of Malonor, where the morals of those unfortunate individuals, misled by the demon, were more degraded.

Father Fray Francisco de Mesa received word of the unhappy condition in which were the souls of those parishioners of his; and, knowing that that cancer, which was spreading so far, needed to be severely cauterized, he gave information of all this to the purveyor-general of Pintados, the alcalde-mayor of that province, Admiral Pedro Duran de Monforte—a valiant soldier, whom we have mentioned [220]in this history at various times. That officer, with the promptness that was necessary, sent Captains Gregorio de Peralta, Nicolás Becerra, and Francisco Duarte, and Adjutants Pedro Farfán and Pedro Brazales, with some Spaniards, Pampangos, and Merdicas from Siao (which is an island of Maluco)—a brave people, but cruel, which is a vice of cowards.

Father Fray Francisco de Mesa learned about the terrible state of his parishioners' souls. Recognizing that this spreading issue needed strong action, he reported everything to the purveyor-general of Pintados, the alcalde-mayor of that province, Admiral Pedro Duran de Monforte—a brave soldier we've mentioned [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] several times in this story. That officer quickly sent Captains Gregorio de Peralta, Nicolás Becerra, and Francisco Duarte, along with Adjutants Pedro Farfán and Pedro Brazales, accompanied by some Spaniards, Pampangos, and Merdicas from Siao (an island in Maluco)—a courageous yet cruel people, which is a flaw of cowards.

While the people were on their way to the village of Malonor, father Fray Francisco de Mesa decided to risk the attempt to prove whether he could through his preaching persuade them to accept better counsels, and, repentant, to put an end to that abominable farce of apostates; for it seemed to him that he would not fulfil his obligation if he did not make this endeavor. He encountered much opposition from the chiefs of the village of Laglag, who were not accomplices in the sedition by those of Malonor; but with intrepid courage to confer with the rebels. He reached the village and sent word to them to assemble in some convenient place, where he would go to discuss with them what concerned the deliverance of their souls, in case they were unwilling to come to the place where father Fray Francisco was. They replied “that they would not go out of the place where” (on account of its being rugged) “they had taken refuge for the sake of their safety—not, however, for fear of the Spaniards, whom they esteemed but lightly, for they themselves were accompanied by all the Holy Trinity, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and all the apostles, who would defend them by working miracles.” They also said that they did not need father ministers, because they had popes and bishops and priests who could minister to [221]them in their own way, although it was very different from that which the fathers used; and “that Fray Francisco should be content with this, that they did not undertake to do harm to the other Christians who, deluded, followed him—although they could do these much harm with the power of God the Father, who assisted them”—and in this fashion they uttered other execrable blasphemies.

While the people were on their way to the village of Malonor, Father Fray Francisco de Mesa decided to take the risk and try to persuade them through his preaching to accept better advice and repent, putting an end to their disgraceful rebellion. He felt that he wouldn’t fulfill his duty if he didn’t make this effort. He faced a lot of opposition from the chiefs of the village of Laglag, who weren't involved in the uprising by those in Malonor; however, he bravely chose to engage with the rebels. He arrived in the village and sent a message for them to meet in a convenient location where he would discuss the salvation of their souls in case they were unwilling to come to where Father Fray Francisco was. They replied that they wouldn’t leave the rugged place where they had taken refuge for safety—not out of fear of the Spaniards, whom they thought little of, because they believed they were accompanied by the Holy Trinity, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and all the apostles, who would protect them by performing miracles. They also claimed they didn’t need Father ministers because they had popes, bishops, and priests who could serve them in their own way, even though it was quite different from how the friars did it; and “that Fray Francisco should be okay with the fact that they had no intention of harming the other Christians who, misled, followed him—though they could do them a lot of harm with the power of God the Father, who was with them”—and in this manner, they expressed other outrageous blasphemies.

Father Fray Francisco, grieved at the perdition of those souls, with intrepid heart determined to go to the place where the rebels were (which was almost inaccessible on account of its ruggedness), where they had erected a shed which served them as a temple in which to offer their sacrifices to the demon and to hold their infamous assemblies. But he did not venture to do so, being dissuaded by the peaceable Indians of Laglag, and by Fray Martín de Mansilla, the prior of Pasig; for that would be to search imprudently for danger, without hope of accomplishing even the least good, since the people of Malonor were so obstinate. The prior told him that it was better to wait for the coming of the Spaniards. But this was not enough to prevent him from going to the said Laglag.58

Father Fray Francisco, troubled by the fate of those souls, boldly decided to go to the rebels' location (which was almost unreachable due to its rough terrain), where they had built a shed that served as a temple to offer their sacrifices to the demon and to hold their wicked gatherings. However, he didn’t go through with it, as the peaceful Indians of Laglag and Fray Martín de Mansilla, the prior of Pasig, advised against it; it would be recklessly seeking danger without any hope of achieving even the slightest good, since the people of Malonor were so stubborn. The prior suggested it was better to wait for the arrival of the Spaniards. But this didn’t stop him from going to Laglag.

The father arrived, very late in the day, at the house which he had in the village, close to the church, with the intention of obtaining better information regarding the condition of those misguided people, so as to see if he could make any endeavor for the good of their souls. In case he could not do so, he intended to return to Laglag the next day, and there await the coming of the Spaniards. [222]The rebellious apostates consulted the demon as to what they should do; and in consequence resolved to put Father Francisco to death; and they proceeded to carry out this decision. It was about midnight when they all came down to the village in a mob; and some surrounded the house, which was made of bamboo, and others began to thrust their lances through the openings in the floor, between the bamboos, wounding father Fray Francisco, and uttering many abusive words. The father religious, alarmed at his peril, sprang up intending to jump out at the windows, as the house stood very low, not considering the greater danger of this. As he leaped, the insurgents ran toward him, and received him on the points of their lances; and all he could do was to reach the cross which stood in the cemetery, next to the church. He embraced it tenderly, and in this position received many lance-thrusts; and thus, his arms flung round the holy cross, and uttering loving and devout words, he rendered his soul to the Lord—to go, as we may piously believe, to enjoy eternal peace.59 The insurgents burned the house and the church, but they did not dare to profane the body of the venerable father, and retreated to the most secluded part of those mountains.

The father arrived very late in the day at his house in the village, near the church, intending to get better information about the condition of those misguided people and see if he could do anything for the good of their souls. If he couldn’t, he planned to return to Laglag the next day and wait for the Spaniards' arrival. The rebellious apostates consulted the demon about what to do and decided to kill Father Francisco; they moved forward with this plan. Around midnight, they came down to the village as a mob. Some surrounded the bamboo house, while others started stabbing their lances through the gaps in the floor, wounding Father Fray Francisco and shouting many insults. Alarmed by the danger, the father sprang up to jump out of the low windows, not thinking about the greater risk. As he leaped, the insurgents rushed toward him and impaled him on their lances. All he could do was reach the cross in the cemetery next to the church. He embraced it tenderly and, in that position, received many lance-thrusts. With his arms wrapped around the holy cross and uttering loving and devout words, he surrendered his soul to the Lord—going, as we may piously believe, to enjoy eternal peace. The insurgents burned the house and the church but did not dare to desecrate the body of the venerable father, retreating to the most secluded part of the mountains.

On the same day when the news that the apostates had killed the father reached the village of Laglag the Spaniards and soldiers arrived whom Admiral Pedro Durán had sent; and with them came the [223]notary-public of the province and Lorenzo Tallez Mucientes to make an investigation [of the murder], although there was some delay in the arrival of the alcalde-mayor, Pedro Durán, in person. Two days after the death of the venerable father, they went to the village of Malonor, and found the body of the venerable father at the foot of the cross—quite ruddy and without corruption, and the blood dropping from it as if the murderers had but that instant slain him (as the notary Bernabé López has assured me at various times); and it remained in the same incorruption, and without the blood coagulating, until the third day, when they buried it in the church of Laglag. Pedro Durán proceeded, as both a soldier and a judge, to search for the aggressors; and a considerable time after the death of the venerable father, and after many endeavors, and having employed adroit spies, the Spaniards seized the principal actors in the diabolical farce. Others defended themselves and were slain; but their corpses were brought in, and carried with the criminals to the port of Iloilo. There justice was executed upon them; they were fastened to stakes in the river of Araut,60 and the body of the accursed woman who played the part of the Blessed Virgin was impaled on a stake and placed at the mouth of the river of Laglag.

On the same day that news of the father’s murder by the apostates reached the village of Laglag, soldiers and Spaniards arrived, sent by Admiral Pedro Durán. Along with them came the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] notary public of the province and Lorenzo Tallez Mucientes to investigate the murder, though there was a delay in the arrival of the alcalde mayor, Pedro Durán, himself. Two days after the venerable father’s death, they went to the village of Malonor and found the body of the venerable father at the foot of the cross—still quite red and uncorrupted, with blood dripping from it as if the murderers had just killed him (as the notary Bernabé López has confirmed to me multiple times); and it remained in that state of incorruption, with the blood not coagulating, until the third day when they buried it in the church of Laglag. Pedro Durán, acting both as a soldier and a judge, set out to find the attackers; and a significant time after the venerable father’s death, after much effort and using clever spies, the Spaniards captured the main players in this wicked act. Others fought back and were killed, but their bodies were brought in along with the criminals to the port of Iloilo. There, justice was served; they were tied to stakes in the river of Araut, and the body of the cursed woman who pretended to be the Blessed Virgin was impaled on a stake and placed at the mouth of the river of Laglag.

In Otón; 1672

In Otón; 1672

[This is related by Diaz in his Conquistas, pp. 696–697.] [224]

[This is mentioned by Diaz in his Conquistas, pp. 696–697.] [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The spirit of discord also roamed through the mountains of the province of Ogtong in the island of Panay, causing a disturbance which had an aspect more ridiculous than serious; and if I have concluded to set it down here it is only to show the pliability of disposition in these Indians in believing every new thing, even when it is groundless, simply because fear persuades them to believe whatever is inimical to the Spaniards, and especially if it is to their discredit. In the villages of Miagao and other visitas of Tigbauan, the collector of tributes for the king was a soldier born in Nueva España, of a merry and jesting disposition; he without heeding what would result, told among the Indians this exceedingly absurd story: “That the king of España had gone out to the seashore for recreation, so heedless of danger and so lightly attended that he had been captured by some Turkish galleys that landed at that shore, and had been carried away to the court of the Grand Turk, who demanded for his ransom an enormous number of slaves; and that to comply with this demand he had sent many ships, which were to carry all the natives of that province to him, so that he could deliver them to the Turks.” The soldier told them that several ships had come for this purpose, which were already in the harbor of Iloilo; and that the alcalde-mayor Don Sebastián de Villarreal and other Spaniards had to go with the ships, in order to make this delivery. This foolish and so perverse story was so thoroughly believed by the Bisayan Indians61 that it caused a great disturbance [225]and commotion among the inhabitants of the villages of Tigbauan, Miagao, Guimbal, and their visitas—so that, abandoning their homes and villages, they fled to the woods without concerted action, publishing the story that the Turks were already close by to seize them, and would carry the natives to their king as prisoners. The father ministers, as being nearest to them, experienced great perplexity, not being able to bring back the fugitives, as they did not know the cause of their disturbance; for when the natives perceived any religious they only took to flight, crying out, “Turks!” and thus the villages were being depopulated.

The spirit of discord also wandered through the mountains of the Ogtong province on the island of Panay, causing a disturbance that felt more ridiculous than serious. I’ve decided to mention this here just to highlight how easily these Indians are influenced by new ideas, even when they’re baseless, simply because fear leads them to believe anything that goes against the Spaniards, especially if it discredits them. In the villages of Miagao and other small towns around Tigbauan, the tribute collector for the king was a soldier from Nueva España with a cheerful and joking nature. Without considering the consequences, he shared a completely absurd story with the Indians: “That the king of Spain had gone to the beach for some leisure time, so unconcerned about danger and so poorly guarded that he had been captured by some Turkish ships that landed on the shore and taken to the Grand Turk’s court, who demanded a huge number of slaves for his ransom; and that to meet this demand, he had sent many ships to take all the natives of this province to him, so that he could hand them over to the Turks.” The soldier claimed that several ships had arrived for this purpose and were already in the harbor of Iloilo, and that the alcalde-mayor Don Sebastián de Villarreal and other Spaniards had to go with the ships to finalize this delivery. This foolish and twisted tale was believed so wholeheartedly by the Bisayan Indians that it created a huge disturbance and panic among the residents of the villages of Tigbauan, Miagao, Guimbal, and their surrounding areas—causing them to abandon their homes and flee to the woods in chaos, spreading the tale that the Turks were already nearby to capture them and would take the natives to their king as prisoners. The local ministers, being the closest to them, felt great confusion, unable to bring back the fleeing people since they didn’t know the reason for their panic; whenever the natives spotted any religious figure, they would just run away, shouting, “Turks!” and this led to the villages becoming depopulated.

When the said alcalde-mayor learned this, he gathered all the soldiers that he could find, and reënlisted many veteran soldiers; and, in company with the father ministers Fray Marcos Gabilán, Fray Marcos González, and Fray Agustín de Estrada, he set out with all speed to see if he could check the disturbance; for he did not know of the falsehood uttered by the demon through the lips of the soldier. [226]But this measure tended to fan the flames and to give further confirmation to that lie; they found, therefore, the villages deserted, and feared that this was a general rebellion. At last, the absurd cause which had influenced the natives was ascertained; and in a conference of the father ministers and the sensible Spaniards they chose the more prudent measure of withdrawing the troops, and allowing the natives to be undeceived by the course of events. The soldier, who must have been more knave than dolt, succeeded in concealing himself so well that nothing was known of him for a long time, because he left the island. The end of this revolution was, that gradually the Indians became undeceived, and ascertained that the whole thing was a lie; and through the agency of father Fray Agustín de Estrada, of whom they had a very high opinion, they were pacified, and brought back to their villages and homes. This is written only that some idea may be formed of the readiness with which these natives believe any lie; and the difficulties experienced by the religious who live among them as ministers, and the danger to the lives of the fathers if the demon concocts some fiction which, like this, is to their detriment or to the discredit of the Spaniards.

When the alcalde-mayor found out about this, he gathered all the soldiers he could and re-enlisted many veteran soldiers. Together with the father ministers Fray Marcos Gabilán, Fray Marcos González, and Fray Agustín de Estrada, he quickly set out to see if he could stop the unrest since he was unaware of the lie spread by the devil through the soldier’s words. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] However, this action only fueled the flames and gave more credence to that lie. They soon found the villages abandoned and feared it was a widespread revolt. Eventually, they discovered the ridiculous reason behind the natives' actions; in a meeting with the father ministers and the sensible Spaniards, they decided it was wiser to withdraw the troops and let the natives come to understand the truth through the events that unfolded. The soldier, who must have been more of a trickster than a fool, managed to hide so well that no one knew where he was for a long time because he left the island. Ultimately, the outcome of this uprising was that the Indians gradually realized the whole thing was a lie. Through the efforts of Father Fray Agustín de Estrada, whom they held in high regard, they were calmed down and returned to their villages and homes. This is mentioned to illustrate how readily these natives believe any falsehood and the challenges faced by religious leaders living among them as ministers, as well as the danger to the priests' lives if the devil concocts some story that harms them or tarnishes the reputation of the Spaniards.

In Playa Honda; 1681

In Playa Honda, 1681

[From Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 747–748.]

[From Diaz’s Conquistas, pp. 747–748.]

The governor, Don Juan de Vargas, in view of the many ravages, murders, and thefts which the revolted Zambals of Playa Honda had committed—infesting the road from Pangasinán to Ilocos, and harassing the adjoining villages that were subject to the Spanish dominion—determined to curb their [227]audacity by some exploit which would inspire them with fear, and to restrain for the future their insolence and daring. For this purpose he sent Captain Alonso Martín Franco and Captain Simón de Torres, with a suitable number of Spaniards, Pampangos, and Merdicas (who are Ternatans and Malays), and gave them the orders that were desirable for the success of so useful an expedition—that Simón de Torres and Alonso Martín Franco, each with half of the soldiers, should go in opposite directions, beating the woods, and fighting with any Zambals whom they might encounter. They did so, compelling the rebels to retreat as far as the place where their companions were; and on St. James’s day the two captains joined their forces, the signal being the discharge of three exploding rockets, and fought with the Zambal insurgents. They carried out their orders and fought against these enemies, who are indeed a warlike people, and killed many of them, not without some loss of our men. Their leader was a valiant Zambal named Tumalang, to whom the inhabitants of those mountains rendered obedience; this man, seeing the death of an associate of his in whom he greatly trusted, whom Alonso Martín Franco had slain, and influenced by some higher feeling, declared that he wished to be a friend of the Spaniards, and with his people to establish villages where he would be under Spanish rule. A very convenient location was set apart, and therein was founded a handsome village called Nueva Toledo, and some others near a fort that is called Pignamén,62 which Don Manuel de León ordered to [228]be founded—in which, by order of the governor, Captain Alonso Martín Franco remained as commandant, with a larger garrison; and this fort has been most efficacious for averting such losses as they then experienced. Chief Tumalang received holy baptism, and was named Don Alonso; and he declared that it was he who had cut off the head of Don Felipe Ugalde,63 whose skull he had in his possession as a trophy. This he surrendered to Martín Franco, that he might bury it in consecrated ground. The command of this fort is today an office that is conferred on a very meritorious officer; he has jurisdiction in all those villages of Playa Honda, and appoints in them governors who administer justice, as do the alcaldes-mayor of these islands in their [respective] provinces.

The governor, Don Juan de Vargas, seeing the many attacks, murders, and thefts committed by the rebellious Zambals of Playa Honda—who were causing havoc along the road from Pangasinán to Ilocos and troubling the nearby villages under Spanish control—decided to put an end to their boldness with an action that would instill fear and curb their future insolence. To achieve this, he sent Captain Alonso Martín Franco and Captain Simón de Torres, along with a suitable number of Spaniards, Pampangos, and Merdicas (who are Ternatans and Malays), giving them the necessary orders for the success of this important expedition. Simón de Torres and Alonso Martín Franco, each leading half of the soldiers, would head in opposite directions, scouting the woods and engaging any Zambals they might encounter. They achieved this, forcing the rebels to retreat to where their allies were; on St. James’s day, the two captains reunited their forces with three exploding rockets as the signal and fought against the Zambal insurgents. They carried out their orders and battled these opponents, who are indeed fierce warriors, killing many of them, though at the cost of some of our men. Their leader was a brave Zambal named Tumalang, to whom the people of those mountains submitted. After seeing the death of a trusted companion, killed by Alonso Martín Franco, and moved by something deeper, Tumalang expressed a desire to become friends with the Spaniards and establish villages under Spanish authority. A suitable location was selected, leading to the establishment of a beautiful village named Nueva Toledo, along with several others near a fort called Pignamén, which Don Manuel de León ordered to be built—in which, at the governor's request, Captain Alonso Martín Franco stayed as commandant with a larger garrison. This fort has been vital in preventing the losses they had previously endured. Chief Tumalang was baptized and given the name Don Alonso; he revealed that he had beheaded Don Felipe Ugalde, keeping his skull as a trophy. He handed it over to Martín Franco for burial in consecrated ground. Today, the command of this fort is a position given to a distinguished officer, who has jurisdiction over all the villages of Playa Honda and appoints governors to administer justice, similar to the alcaldes-mayor in their respective provinces.

In Zambal villages; 1683

In Zambal villages, 1683

[The following account is taken from Salazar’s Hist. de Sant. Rosario, pp. 300–311. It was a revolt against ecclesiastical authority, and would have ended in the liberation of the Zambals from all Spanish rule, had they not been in awe of the fort and garrison of Paynauen. Salazar’s relation is interesting in regard to native character and missionary methods.]

[The following account is taken from Salazar’s Hist. de Sant. Rosario, pp. 300–311. It was a rebellion against church authority, and it would have resulted in the freedom of the Zambals from all Spanish control, if they hadn’t been intimidated by the fort and troops at Paynauen. Salazar’s account is fascinating in terms of indigenous character and missionary techniques.]

There was in the village of Balacbac an Indian [229]chief named Dulinen, to whose following belonged a great part of the village; although he came down [from the hills] to live in a settlement, it was more from worldly considerations than from affection for a Christian mode of life, and he therefore left in the mountains all his valuables, and a nephew of his for a guard over them. This was learned by an Indian named Calignao, who went to the mountain and slew the nephew of Dulinen—who, incensed at this, urged his followers to go with him to the mountain to avenge the death of his nephew. When this came to the knowledge of the servant of God,64 he made every effort to prevent this flight, and although he restrained some of them he could not entirely prevent it; accordingly, that chief went back to the mountains, followed by seventeen families. The commandant of the fort at Paynaoven [sic], when he learned of this departure, attacked the chief and his followers, and burned down the village of Aglao, of which the murderer Calignao and the said chief were natives, and which was near that of Balacbac, where at that time all lived. The said Calignao had many kinsmen, and, in order that these might not go away and flee to the mountains, father Fray Domingo endeavored to gain their good-will; he asked the commandant for a commission as adjutant for Calignao, which the commandant immediately gave him—adding, to pacify the Indians, that the killing [230]by Calignao had been done in compliance with a command by the government that all those should be killed who would not come down to the settlements, etc. With this the men of Balacbac were calmed, but their quiet did not last long; for a relative of Calignao named Dagdagan, who accompanied the commandant and his soldiers, promised to attack the chief who had fled. Entering the woods to carry out this plan, he went but a few paces when he was slain by a Negrillo of the mountains; and, through the mischief-making of a wicked Indian, his relatives believed that the religious had occasioned this death. They assembled to celebrate his funeral rites with much wine-drinking (a common usage among these infidels); and their carousal resulted in an agreement to cut off the head of the servant of God, for which exploit Calignao offered himself, in return for the kind acts which father Fray Domingo had done for him. And now that we have this evil man under consideration [entre manos] it will be well to point out something of his life, in order that what remains to be told of him may not afterward cause surprise. Thomas Calignao was a native of the village of Aglao, distant two leguas from Balacbac, and was a Christian from his childhood—although of Christian he had only the name; for his life and habits were worse than those of a heathen. He never heard mass, or made a confession; he observed neither human nor divine nor even natural law; for his only endeavor was to cut off heads—even if they were those of children or women—without further cause or motive than his craving to kill for the sake of killing. On account of these and many other sins, the commandant often intended [231]to put him to death; but he did not carry out this purpose, through the intercession of father Fray Domingo, for the servant of God said (and not unjustly): “If you kill this man, who has so large a following, many will return to the mountains; but if he is reclaimed to an upright life he will bring in and convert many Cimarrons, and can be very helpful to us in our ministry.” For these and other reasons, and for the salvation of that soul, father Fray Domingo made every effort to convert Calignao to a good life—now with advice, now with kind acts, again with examples, flattering words, and promises, and sometimes with threats—[telling Calignao] that unless he mended his ways, he would leave the commandant to do his duty. None of these methods sufficed to reclaim him, for, even when it seemed as if he were somewhat softened, if they summoned him to hear mass he became indignant, and heard it while seated and smoking tobacco (an impropriety unheard-of in this country); and if the father commanded him to kneel he was inflamed with anger and excitement—most of all, when the father commanded him to come for instruction in the [Christian] doctrine, his ignorance of which made him so bad a Christian. Father Fray Domingo, seeing how little attention Calignao paid to his counsels, availed himself of his relatives and other influential persons, in order that they might bring him to reason and to decent living. But all this was lost time, for besides not hearing mass on the feast-days, or attending instruction (as all did), all that he cared or watched for was to kill others and become drunk; and although he did this, as he thought, in secret, other persons told it to father Fray Domingo, who rebuked him for his cruel [232]acts and his persistence in his evil ways. From this arose the hatred and ill-will which Calignao entertained for the servant of God; and in order to remove him thus, and not have in future any one who would rebuke him, he now offered to cut off the father’s head.

There was in the village of Balacbac an Indian [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]chief named Dulinen, who had a large following from the village. Although he moved down from the hills to live in a settlement, it was more for practical reasons than for love of a Christian lifestyle. So, he left all his valuables in the mountains and a nephew to guard them. An Indian named Calignao learned this, went to the mountain, and killed Dulinen’s nephew. Furious, Dulinen urged his followers to accompany him back to the mountains to avenge the death of his nephew. When the servant of God, 64, found out, he did everything he could to stop them. He managed to hold some of them back, but he couldn’t stop everyone; ultimately, Dulinen returned to the mountains with seventeen families. The commandant at the fort in Paynaoven [sic] heard about this and attacked Dulinen and his followers, burning down the village of Aglao, where both Calignao and Dulinen were from, which was close to Balacbac where everyone lived at the time. Calignao had many relatives, and to prevent them from fleeing to the mountains, Father Fray Domingo tried to win their favor. He asked the commandant for a commission as adjutant for Calignao, which the commandant quickly granted, adding that to pacify the Indians, Calignao had killed in accordance with a government order for anyone not coming down to the settlements to be killed, etc. This calmed the people of Balacbac, but their peace was short-lived, as a relative of Calignao named Dagdagan, who was with the commandant and his soldiers, promised to attack the chief who had fled. Entering the woods to carry out this plan, he barely took a few steps when he was killed by a Negrillo from the mountains; and due to the scheming of a wicked Indian, his relatives believed that the religious had caused this death. They gathered to mourn him with lots of drinking (a common practice among these infidels); and their revelry led to an agreement to behead the servant of God, with Calignao offering to do it in return for the kindness Fray Domingo had shown him. Now that we’re discussing this wicked man [entre manos], it’s good to share a bit about his life so what follows won’t be surprising. Thomas Calignao was from the village of Aglao, two leguas away from Balacbac, and had been a Christian since childhood—though he was only a Christian in name, as his behavior and habits were worse than those of a heathen. He never attended mass or confessed; he disregarded all human, divine, and even natural law; his only goal was to behead people—even children and women—without any reason or motive other than his desire to kill for killing’s sake. Because of these and many other sins, the commandant frequently planned [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]to execute him, but he refrained from doing so because of Father Fray Domingo’s intercession, who argued (not unjustly): “Killing this man, who has such a large following, will drive many back to the mountains; but if he is converted to a good life, he could bring in and convert many Cimarrons and be very helpful in our ministry.” For these and other reasons, seeking the salvation of that soul, Father Fray Domingo tried hard to convert Calignao to a better way of living—using advice, kind actions, examples, flattering words, and promises, and sometimes even threats—[telling Calignao] that unless he changed his ways, he would leave the commandant to take care of him. None of these efforts worked; even when he seemed a little softened, if they called him to mass, he would get angry, listening while seated and smoking tobacco (an unheard-of impropriety in this country); and if the father asked him to kneel, he would become furious and upset—especially when the father told him to come for instruction in the [Christian] doctrine, which he was so ignorant of that it made him a poor Christian. Father Fray Domingo, seeing how little Calignao cared for his advice, sought the help of his relatives and other influential people to help bring him to his senses and to a decent lifestyle. But all this was wasted effort, for aside from not attending mass on feast days or instruction (like everyone else), all he cared about was killing and getting drunk; and although he believed he was doing this in secret, others reported it to Father Fray Domingo, who reprimanded him for his cruel [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__actions and his stubbornness in his evil ways. This led to the hatred and resentment Calignao felt towards the servant of God; now, he proposed to behead the father so that there would be no one left to rebuke him.

On a certain occasion Calignao killed a poor woman; and as the aggressor was unknown, as this happened in a hidden place, father Fray Domingo undertook, in order to learn who did it, to use the stratagem of feeling the pulse of every person in the village. All agreed to this, except Calignao, who, being present at this trial, escaped and fled to the woods for several days. Soon returning thence to the village, he went about visiting his relatives; he told them that he was going to the mountains, not to return; but that, before he went away, he must cut off some heads. He thereupon went to the house of an Indian, a nephew of the woman whom he had murdered, and in order to kill him unsheathed the ygua, which is worse than a butcher’s knife; but the Indian, who was seated, seized his dagger in his hand, and remained thus, quietly—at which Calignao was afraid, and did not dare to carry out his purpose. At the noise of this, all the people hastened thither, as did father Fray Domingo, who, seeing the perverse Calignao in the mood for cutting off heads, said to him: “Come here, thou wicked man. Are not the murders that thou committest at night enough, without trying to kill in daylight, and in sight of all?” To which he replied: “I am looking for thee, Father, for thee first of all; do thou come here.” Two Indians then approached to pacify him; but all was in vain, for he was blind with anger and fury; [233]and when they tried to bring him to reason, he hastily went out and fled to the mountains. Soon afterward he returned to the village, and, passing in front of the convent at a time when the servant of God was at the window, Calignao began to defy him, with both words and gestures; but father Fray Domingo answered him: “Since thou knowest that the religious do not kill, or carry arms, thou talkest thus—as thou wouldst not talk or act with the soldiers.” This made Calignao very ugly, and, walking throughout the midst of the village, he declared that he would not halt until he had taken the head from father Fray Domingo; and no one dared say a word to him, because he was sheltered by his relatives. The commandant of the fort, having learned of the cruel and shameless acts of Calignao, sent seven Spanish soldiers to guard father Fray Domingo, and ordered them to arrest or kill that evil man; but, although they twice had the opportunity to do this, the servant of God prevented it, and, most of the soldiers having become sick, they returned to their fort without having accomplished anything. The commandant, at this, ordered the headman of Balacbac to seize or kill Calignao, who every day went in or out of the said village; but he did not carry out this order, for all feared him and showed him respect—rather, indeed, they watched over his safety.

On one occasion, Calignao killed a poor woman. Since the attacker was unknown and this happened in a secluded area, Father Fray Domingo decided to find out who did it by feeling the pulse of everyone in the village. Everyone agreed to this except Calignao, who was present at the trial, and he escaped into the woods for several days. When he returned to the village, he visited his relatives and told them he was going to the mountains for good, but first he needed to cut off some heads. He then went to the house of an Indian, a nephew of the woman he had murdered, and pulled out the ygua, which is worse than a butcher’s knife, intending to kill him. However, the Indian, sitting down, grabbed his dagger and stayed calm, which made Calignao afraid, and he hesitated to go through with it. The noise drew the crowd, including Father Fray Domingo, who confronted Calignao, saying, “Come here, you wicked man. Aren’t your nighttime murders enough without trying to kill during the day in front of everyone?” Calignao replied, “I’m looking for you, Father; you are my first target. Come here.” Two Indians tried to calm him down, but to no avail, as he was blinded by anger and fury. When they tried to reason with him, he quickly left and ran back to the mountains. Shortly after, he came back to the village, and as he passed by the convent while Father Fray Domingo was at the window, he began to taunt him with words and gestures. Father Fray Domingo responded, “Since you know that religious people do not kill or carry weapons, you say this as you wouldn’t dare to act that way with the soldiers.” This made Calignao furious, and as he walked through the village, he declared he wouldn’t stop until he had Father Fray Domingo's head. No one dared say anything to him because he was protected by his relatives. The commandant of the fort, hearing about Calignao's cruel and shameless actions, sent seven Spanish soldiers to guard Father Fray Domingo and ordered them to capture or kill that evil man. Although they had two opportunities to do it, the servant of God stopped them, and most of the soldiers fell ill, so they returned to their fort without achieving anything. The commandant then ordered the headman of Balacbac to capture or kill Calignao, who frequently entered and left the village, but he didn’t follow through with the command because everyone feared him and showed him respect—in fact, they looked after his safety.

For more than three years the servant of God went about, inquiring, with great solicitude into the idolatrous customs which the Zambals had; and for this he availed himself of the boys—whom he assembled together, and taught to read, and related to them the examples and lives of the saints, bestowing [234]on them presents and kindnesses, with great affection. Then he questioned them as to the method and the times in which their parents and elders practiced idolatry, and they told him everything, with all details. This was especially true of the boy Diego, whom father Fray Domingo baptized in Abucay; he was a nephew of a priest of their idols, and was very well instructed in our holy faith; and he was not suspected of telling the father what conduced to the greater service and honor of God. Father Fray Domingo charged the rest of the boys to keep this secret, so that their parents should not flog them; and through fear of this they remained silent, so that it was never known that the boys were the ones who had revealed the practice of idolatry. Thus father Fray Domingo came to know that the chiefs of the villages were the priests of the idols, and that they found this profitable; for by [filling] this office they obtained their food, and had the advantage in any controversy, and, without this, they would fare ill. Also that the common people were in great subjection and obedience to the said priests, who could incite them to any daring act—especially since, as he was informed, all the people in the province, both infidels and Christians, had been bound by promise and oath not to reveal their idolatries, no matter how many inquiries the father should make, even though they were ruined or lost their lives by this silence. Accordingly the servant of God found this undertaking very arduous, and foresaw that it would cost him many hardships, and that he would in it expose himself to many dangers to his reputation, and honor, and even to his life. Notwithstanding, like another Elias, zeal for the honor of God [235]flamed in him; and laying aside all fear for what might come, he directed his efforts and all his energies to the destruction of this infernal vice.

For over three years, the servant of God went around, deeply concerned about the idolatrous customs of the Zambals. To learn more, he gathered boys, taught them how to read, and shared stories of the saints with them, showering them with gifts and affection. He then asked them how and when their parents and elders practiced idolatry, and they told him everything in detail. This was especially true of a boy named Diego, who Father Fray Domingo baptized in Abucay; he was a nephew of a priest of their idols and was well-versed in our holy faith. No one suspected that Diego would share information that could enhance the service and honor of God. Father Fray Domingo instructed the other boys to keep this a secret so their parents wouldn't punish them, and out of fear, they stayed quiet, so it was never known that the boys had revealed the practice of idolatry. Thus, Father Fray Domingo discovered that the village chiefs were the priests of the idols, profiting from this role because it provided them with food and gave them an edge in disputes; without it, they would struggle. He also learned that the common people were under great control and compliance to these priests, who could easily urge them into bold actions—especially since he was informed that everyone in the province, both pagans and Christians, had sworn an oath not to disclose their idolatries, even if it meant ruin or death from this silence. Consequently, the servant of God found this task very challenging, foreseeing that it would bring him many hardships and put his reputation, honor, and even life at risk. Nevertheless, like another Elijah, his zeal for the honor of God flared within him, and putting aside all fear of what might happen, he focused all his efforts and energies on eliminating this wicked vice.

When Lent came around in the year 1683, he began his war against idolatry, having first commended to God this his undertaking. He summoned to his presence each one of the idolaters, and said to one: “Thou hast these and these instruments, and with them thou didst offer sacrifice on such a day, in company with N. and N.”65 To another he said: “Thou art a priest of so many idols, and for these thou hast so many implements, kept in such and such a place—with which thou renderest to the demon the honor and reverence which are due to God alone, the Author of creation. As proofs of this, on such a day thou didst sacrifice in company with N. and N., and on such a day with N.” In this manner he went on, examining all the Zambals; and they, seeing these accurate proofs, regarded the servant of God as a soothsayer, and handed over to him the instruments of their idol-worship. Immediately he gave these to the boys, so that they could break in pieces and abuse them; and finally he commanded them to burn these articles in the sight of all. The spectators were amazed at seeing that neither the father nor the children died as a result of this desecration of their idols; for they had believed that he who should profane these instruments must perish. The father preached to them, and taught them what they must do in future. Having accomplished this in Baubuen, he proceeded to the villages of Balacbac and Alalang[236]—where, although at the beginning he encountered some resistance, he finally succeeded in his purpose that these Indians also should surrender to him the implements of idol-worship that they possessed. Having placed all these in a little hut, he set fire to it, and all were burned, not without the surprise of these Indians also that no disaster happened to the father.

When Lent came around in 1683, he started his campaign against idolatry, having first committed this effort to God. He called each of the idolaters before him and said to one: “You have these items, and with them, you offered sacrifices on this day, along with N. and N.”65 To another, he said: “You are a priest of so many idols, and for these, you have various tools kept in such and such a place—with which you give the honor and reverence that only belongs to God, the Creator. As evidence of this, on this day, you sacrificed with N. and N., and on that day, with N.” He continued this way, questioning all the Zambals; and they, seeing his accurate evidence, viewed the servant of God as a prophet and handed him the tools of their idol-worship. He immediately gave these to the boys to break and destroy; and finally, he ordered them to burn these items in front of everyone. The onlookers were astonished to see that neither the father nor the children suffered any harm from this desecration of their idols; they believed that anyone who profaned these tools would surely die. The father preached to them and instructed them on what they should do going forward. After accomplishing this in Baubuen, he moved on to the villages of Balacbac and Alalang[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]—where, despite facing some resistance at first, he ultimately succeeded in his goal of getting these Indians to also give him their idol-worship tools. After gathering everything in a small hut, he set it on fire, and all were burned, much to the surprise of these Indians, who were also shocked that no harm came to the father.

The Indians of these villages requested that those of the village of Masingloc should not be told that the former had surrendered their implements, because all had sworn an oath not to do so, and, if it were known that they had given up these articles, the others would come to attack, them. Notwithstanding this petition, the servant of God proceeded to do the same at Masingloc, three or four times; there he encountered an old chief, who was the Bayoc, or head priest, who delegated jurisdiction to the rest in order that they could sacrifice to their idols. With this diabolical man, possessed by a demon, the servant of God labored without measure, preaching to him, and convincing him with arguments; but in no way could he be cured of his obstinacy, even when one day father Fray Domingo went so far as to cast himself at his feet and kiss them—watering them with his tears, which ran in streams over his cheeks—begging him for the love of God to give up that practice [of idolatry] and be converted to God with all his heart, and relating to him many instances that were pertinent to the subject; but the old man, obstinate and possessed by a demon, showed himself rebellious, hard, and stubborn. The chiefs of Masingloc, seeing the activity of the servant of God, and the earnestness with which he [237]went about that business, sent nine of their number to Manila, who presented a petition to the government saying that they had been Christians for ninety years66 and had never kept idols; and now father Fray Domingo Perez had given them the reputation of being idolaters, taking away their good name, etc. This caused the servant of God to suffer much in regard to his own reputation; for in Manila, as people had not kept the matter in mind, each one considered it according to his own personal feelings [238]and the most moderate called it indiscreet zeal, and others lack of judgment. At that time the suits against Señor Pardo were at their height, since about this time he was arrested; accordingly, all those who were governing had a poor opinion of the Dominican friars. And now with the petition of these Indians they were more confirmed in their opinion, treating us as violators of the peace, and disturbers of the people; and all this was charged to the servant of God, as, to appearances, the origin and cause of all the trouble. Accordingly, very severe letters were written to him from Manila, censuring him for imprudent conduct, etc. But the commandant at the fort at Paynaven, as soon as he learned of the result, wrote to the governor, telling him the entire truth, and asking him to arrest those Indians; but when this despatch reached Manila, the petition had been already presented, and representations had been made against the servant of God, and in favor of the Zambal Indians. Notwithstanding this, the governor did what the commandant asked him, placing the Indians in the fort [of Santiago]. When this was known by the people of Masingloc, they immediately surrendered a hundred and fifty implements with which they served and adored their idols; and the commandant again wrote to the governor, asking him to release the nine Indians. This was done, but on the return to their village one of them died after a brief illness; he was the chief minister of the idols, although he did not make this known up to the hour of his death. The others also quickly became ill, and they died one after another, God punishing their insolence, and defending the honor of His servant.

The people from these villages asked that the residents of Masingloc not be informed that they had given up their tools, as they had all sworn an oath not to do so, and if it became known that they had surrendered these items, others would come to attack them. Despite this request, the servant of God went to Masingloc several times; there, he met an old chief who was the Bayoc, or head priest, who passed authority to the others so they could worship their idols. This wicked man, possessed by a demon, was the focus of the servant of God’s efforts, as he preached to him and tried to persuade him with reason. However, he couldn’t change the old man’s stubbornness, even when Father Fray Domingo went so far as to throw himself at the chief’s feet and kiss them—his tears streaming down his cheeks—pleading with him for the love of God to abandon idol worship and turn to God wholeheartedly. He shared many relevant stories, but the old man, obstinate and demon-possessed, remained defiant, hard-hearted, and resistant. The chiefs of Masingloc, noticing the servant of God’s dedication and how earnestly he pursued this cause, sent nine of their leaders to Manila with a petition to the government, stating that they had been Christians for ninety years and had never kept idols; now Father Fray Domingo Perez was tarnishing their reputation by branding them idolaters. This caused the servant of God great distress regarding his own reputation; in Manila, as people had forgotten the situation, they each viewed it according to their personal feelings, with the more moderate calling it indiscreet zeal, while others said it was a lack of judgment. At that time, the legal issues involving Señor Pardo were escalating, as he was arrested around that period; as a result, those in power had a low opinion of the Dominican friars. With the Indians’ petition, their negative views were further solidified, treating us as instigators of unrest and attributing all the trouble to the servant of God, who seemed to be the source and cause of it all. Consequently, very harsh letters were sent to him from Manila, criticizing his imprudent actions, etc. However, the commandant at the fort in Paynaven, upon learning the full story, wrote to the governor, relaying the complete truth, and requested the arrest of those Indians. But by the time this message reached Manila, the petition had already been submitted, and arguments were made against the servant of God in favor of the Zambal Indians. Nevertheless, the governor followed the commandant's advice, placing the Indians in the fort of Santiago. When the people of Masingloc heard this news, they promptly handed over one hundred fifty items used in the worship of their idols. The commandant then wrote to the governor, asking for the release of the nine Indians. This was granted, but upon their return to their village, one of them died after a short illness; he was the chief minister of the idols, though he had not disclosed this until his death. The others soon fell ill as well, dying one after another, as God punished their defiance and defended the honor of His servant.

Most of the Indians were reclaimed, and confirmed [239]in our holy faith, by the words and deeds of father Fray Domingo; and they therefore voluntarily gave up the instruments with which they formerly sacrificed to the demon—although many did so because they could not resist, especially those who were priests and had obtained their living by those practices; these were the chief men of the villages. They remained grieved and angry, and with little love for the servant of God; and each one of them would, if he had had the power, have taken the father’s life—or a thousand of them, if he could have had so many—but they were made cowards by their fear of the soldiers at the fort. [Angered at what Fray Domingo had done to uproot their idolatries, these chiefs conspire against him, and resolve to take his life—for which deed Calignao offers his services. At the time (July, 1683), the father is in Manila soliciting contributions for building churches in the Zambal country; his head, which a year before had showed hardly a gray hair, is now almost white, at the age of forty-five—an effect of his unusual toils above described. On November 12 of that same year Fray Domingo is treacherously slain, on his return from Baubuen to Balacbac, by Calignao and an infidel Negrillo named Quibácat, with poisoned arrows. Some friendly Indians convey him to Balacbac, where he dies three days later. The commandant of the fort wishes to go to punish the Zambals for this murder, but a friar dissuades him, saying that if he leaves the fort, the Zambals would get possession of it, “and no religious or Spaniard would be left in all Playa Honda.” Soldiers are sent to seize the assassin, but he cannot be taken, for he is protected by the natives in the village, “who all [240]were present at the funeral more from joy at seeing the father dead than from compassion, or sadness at having lost him, thinking that with the death of father Fray Domingo they could again revive their idol-worship.”] [241]

Most of the Indians were won over and confirmed in our holy faith by the actions and words of Father Fray Domingo; as a result, they voluntarily gave up the tools they used for sacrifices to the demon—though many did this because they had no choice, especially those who were priests and made their living through those practices; these were the leaders of the villages. They remained upset and angry, harboring little affection for the servant of God; each of them would have taken the father’s life if they could—several times over if they had the chance—but they were made timid by their fear of the soldiers at the fort. [Angered by what Fray Domingo had done to dismantle their idolatries, these chiefs conspired against him and planned to kill him—with Calignao offering his help. At the time (July 1683), the father is in Manila asking for donations to build churches in the Zambal region; his hair, which had hardly shown any gray a year prior, is now almost white at the age of forty-five—this is a result of the intense labor he had endured. On November 12 of that same year, Fray Domingo is treacherously killed on his way back from Baubuen to Balacbac by Calignao and an unfaithful Negrillo named Quibácat, using poisoned arrows. Some friendly Indians take him to Balacbac, where he dies three days later. The commandant of the fort wants to punish the Zambals for this murder, but a friar advises against it, saying that if he leaves the fort, the Zambals would seize it, “and no religious or Spaniard would be left in all Playa Honda.” Soldiers are dispatched to capture the assassin, but he cannot be taken as he is protected by the locals in the village, “who all [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]were present at the funeral more from joy at seeing the father dead than from compassion or sadness at losing him, believing that with Fray Domingo’s death they could revive their idol-worship.”] [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

1 “Bohol, pertaining to the government of Zebú, and its spiritual administration to the fathers of the Society of Jesus, who in this island have in their charge six [sic] villages, the most important of which are Loboc, Baclayón, Inabangan, Malabago, Malabohoc” (Diaz’s Conquistas, p. 132).

1 “Bohol is under the administration of the government of Zebú, and its spiritual oversight is handled by the Jesuit priests, who manage six [sic] villages on this island, the most notable being Loboc, Baclayón, Inabangan, Malabago, and Malabohoc” (Diaz’s Conquistas, p. 132).

A note by Diaz’s editor, Fray Tirso López, states that Bohol “now [1890] belongs to the Recollects.” ↑

A note by Diaz’s editor, Fray Tirso López, says that Bohol “now [1890] belongs to the Recollects.” ↑

2 “He made ready four caracoas, with such Spaniards as he could find, and Indians from Sialo (which is the coast of Zebú), a very warlike people; and set out for Bohol, not entrusting to any one else an expedition so important” (Diaz, p. 133).

2 "He prepared four boats with as many Spaniards as he could gather and some warriors from Sialo (the coast of Zebú), who were a very fierce group; and he departed for Bohol, not letting anyone else take on such a crucial mission" (Diaz, p. 133).

Diaz has evidently obtained most of his information from Murillo Velarde. We present (in notes) only such matter as he gives additional to the latter. ↑

Diaz has clearly gotten most of his information from Murillo Velarde. We only present (in notes) the additional information he provides beyond what the latter covers. ↑

3 Diaz states (p. 133) that these were both Pampango and Sialo Indians, and numbered more than a thousand. ↑

3 Diaz says (p. 133) that these were both Pampango and Sialo Indians, and there were over a thousand of them. ↑

4 “The insurgents fled to the mountain, where for four days our men pursued them, slaying all that they encountered. They found many persons who had died for lack of food, as they had made but scanty provision of it, confiding in the promises of the demon, who had promised them that he would change the leaves on the trees into rice.” (Diaz, p. 134.) ↑

4 “The rebels ran to the mountains, where our soldiers chased them for four days, killing everyone they came across. They found many people who had died from hunger because they had only brought a little food, trusting in the promises of the demon, who had assured them that he would turn the leaves on the trees into rice.” (Diaz, p. 134.) ↑

5 “Laden with spoil and captives,” and “leaving a garrison of Spaniards and Pampangos” (Diaz, p. 134). ↑

5 “Loaded with treasures and prisoners,” and “leaving behind a garrison of Spaniards and Pampangos” (Diaz, p. 134). ↑

6 Spanish, zarzas y espinas; probably meaning branches of thorny shrubs, and trees. The defense of pointed stakes driven into the ground (VOL. XXVII, p. 275) is called in Tagal suyac. Cf. description of this in Ling Roth’s Natives of Sarawak (London, 1896), i, p. 444, and ii, pp. 110–115. ↑

6 Spanish, zarzas y espinas; likely referring to branches of thorny shrubs and trees. The defense of pointed stakes driven into the ground (VOL. 27, p. 275) is known in Tagal as suyac. See a description of this in Ling Roth’s Natives of Sarawak (London, 1896), i, p. 444, and ii, pp. 110–115. ↑

7 Spanish, ballestones; but the contrivance mentioned in the text refers to a trap used throughout the archipelago for hunting large game; it is called belatic or balantic, and as it is sprung discharges a sharp javelin or arrow. See description and illustration of this trap in Reed’s Negritos of Zambales (Manila, 1904), pp. 45, 46; and of a similar device used by the Dyaks and Malays of Borneo, in Ling Roth’s Natives of Sarawak, i, pp. 437–442. Cf. Diaz’s mention (Conquistas, p. 134) of these ballestones, “which they are wont to set as snares for hunting deer.” ↑

7 Spanish, ballestones; but the device mentioned in the text refers to a trap used throughout the archipelago for hunting large animals; it's called belatic or balantic, and when it is triggered, it releases a sharp javelin or arrow. See the description and illustration of this trap in Reed’s Negritos of Zambales (Manila, 1904), pp. 45, 46; and a similar device used by the Dyaks and Malays of Borneo in Ling Roth’s Natives of Sarawak, i, pp. 437–442. Cf. Diaz’s mention (Conquistas, p. 134) of these ballestones, “which they set as snares for hunting deer.” ↑

8 Fifty-seven years previously; Bancao must have been, then, at least seventy-five years old at the time of this revolt; Diaz says (p. 134) that Bancao was “very old and decrepit.” ↑

8 Fifty-seven years earlier, Bancao must have been at least seventy-five years old during this revolt; Diaz mentions (p. 134) that Bancao was "very old and frail." ↑

9 According to Diaz (p. 135). “desiring to be king of the island of Leyte.” ↑

9 According to Diaz (p. 135), “wanting to be the king of the island of Leyte.” ↑

10 “For with the enemy came many women clad in white, and many children, in order to pick up bits of earth and scatter them on the wind, as the demon had told them—believing that if they did so the Spaniards would fall dead; but the test of this proved very costly to them. The demon had also promised them that he would resuscitate those slain in battle; but, when they carried some of the dead to his temple for him to do this, he replied, with ridiculous excuses, that he could not do it.” (Diaz, p. 135.) ↑

10 “When the enemy arrived, many women dressed in white and children came along to gather bits of earth and throw them into the wind, as the demon had instructed them—thinking that by doing this the Spaniards would drop dead; however, trying this turned out to be very costly for them. The demon had also promised that he would bring back to life those who were killed in battle; but when they brought some of the dead to his temple for him to revive them, he made ridiculous excuses and said he couldn’t do it.” (Diaz, p. 135.) ↑

11 According to Diaz (p. 136), he was shot and then burned; also many of the rebels were hanged or shot. ↑

11 According to Diaz (p. 136), he got shot and then burned; also, many of the rebels were hanged or shot. ↑

12 See description of this earthquake in VOL. XXXV, pp. 217–226. ↑

12 Check out the description of this earthquake in VOL. 35, pp. 217–226. ↑

13 Gapán (or Gapang) is a town in the southern part of Nueva Ecija, Luzon, near San Isidro and the Rio Grande de la Pampanga. ↑

13 Gapán (or Gapang) is a town in the southern part of Nueva Ecija, Luzon, close to San Isidro and the Rio Grande de la Pampanga. ↑

14 Juan de Abarca, a native of Madrid, came to the islands in the Augustinian mission of 1635, and was a minister in Pampangan and Visayan villages during twenty years, except at times filling official posts in Manila. He died there in 1656. ↑

14 Juan de Abarca, who was from Madrid, arrived in the islands as part of the Augustinian mission in 1635 and served as a minister in Pampangan and Visayan villages for twenty years, except for periods when he held official positions in Manila. He passed away there in 1656. ↑

15 See account of the conquest of Luzón, in VOL III, pp. 141–172; but the name Matanda does not occur therein. ↑

15 Check out the account of the conquest of Luzón in VOL 3, pp. 141–172; however, the name Matanda isn’t mentioned there. ↑

16 Alluding to the fact that it was the Lutaos—who lived in Basilan, Joló, and other islands south of Mindanao—who aided the Spaniards to quell this insurrection. ↑

16 Mentioning that it was the Lutaos—who resided in Basilan, Joló, and other islands south of Mindanao—who helped the Spaniards to suppress this rebellion. ↑

17 That is, the missionaries had interfered with an illicit amour of Sumoroy’s (Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vi, p. 251). ↑

17 In other words, the missionaries had gotten involved in a secret love affair of Sumoroy’s (Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vi, p. 251). ↑

18 Meaning that at a certain part of the ascent, where but one man at a time could pass, each had to use both hands and feet for climbing, leaving his weapons with the man next to him, the latter handing them up afterward; and so on, with each in turn. See Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 174. ↑

18 Meaning At a certain point during the climb, where only one person could go through at a time, everyone had to use both their hands and feet to climb, leaving their weapons with the person next to them, who would then pass them up afterward; and so on, with each person in turn. See Murillo Velarde’s Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 174. ↑

19 An allusion to La Rochelle, considered the most strongly fortified town in France. ↑

19 A reference to La Rochelle, seen as the most heavily fortified town in France. ↑

20 Miguel Ponce, S.J., was born in Peñaroya in Aragon, in the archbishopric of Zaragoza, and attended the university of Alcalá de Henares where he studied philosophy and theology. His endeavors to enter the Society met with failure. Inspired to a mission life, he set out for Madrid to join the mission then forming for the Philippines, but found the procurator already gone. Following afoot, he overtook him at Carmona, but was so worn out with his difficult journey and so tanned that he resembled a negro in color. For that reason the procurator refused to accept him, “for in Indias, color is an accident of great importance to the Indians.” But Ponce, in his eagerness to go, offered to accompany the missionaries as a servant or slave; and he was finally taken in the capacity of servant, embarking with the secular habit. He was admitted into the Society at Mexico in 1631, and after four months sailed from Acapulco for the Philippines. His studies were completed at Manila, and he was finally ordained a priest. For eleven months he labored in eastern Samar and was later appointed rector of Palapag. He was killed as above described, June 11, 1649. See Murillo Velarde, fol. 175, 176a. ↑

20 Miguel Ponce, S.J., was born in Peñaroya in Aragon, in the archbishopric of Zaragoza, and attended the University of Alcalá de Henares where he studied philosophy and theology. His attempts to join the Society were unsuccessful. Inspired by a calling, he headed to Madrid to join the mission forming for the Philippines, but discovered that the procurator had already left. Following on foot, he caught up with him in Carmona, but was so exhausted from his arduous journey and so sunburned that his skin was very dark. Because of that, the procurator turned him away, saying, “in Indias, color is an important factor for the Indians.” However, Ponce, eager to go, offered to serve the missionaries as a servant or slave; he was eventually accepted as a servant, setting off with the everyday garb. He joined the Society in Mexico in 1631, and after four months, sailed from Acapulco to the Philippines. He completed his studies in Manila and was finally ordained a priest. For eleven months, he worked in eastern Samar and was later appointed rector of Palapag. He was killed as previously mentioned on June 11, 1649. See Murillo Velarde, fol. 175, 176a. ↑

21 Giulio Aleni, S.J., was born at Brescia in 1582 and entered the Society in 1600, being sent almost immediately after professing the humanities to China. He landed at Macao in 1610 and entered China in 1613, where he labored until 1649, the year of his death. As the text shows, he must have made a journey to the Philippines. He left many writings, a number in the Chinese tongue. See Sommervogel’s Bibliothèque. ↑

21 Giulio Aleni, S.J., was born in Brescia in 1582 and joined the Society in 1600, being sent almost right after to study the humanities in China. He arrived in Macao in 1610 and entered China in 1613, where he worked until 1649, the year he passed away. As the text indicates, he likely made a trip to the Philippines. He left behind many writings, several of which are in Chinese. See Sommervogel’s Bibliothèque. ↑

22 Of Albay, which some called Ibalón, from a village and port of that name.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A. ↑

22 Of Albay, which some referred to as Ibalón, named after a village and port by that name.—Rev. Tirso Lopez, O.S.A. ↑

23 Juan del Campo, S.J., was born in March, 1620, in Villanueva de la Vera, near Jarandilla, his father being Juan del Campo, a familiar of the Holy Office. Having studied in the Jesuit college at Oropesa, he entered the Society (1636) contrary to the wish of his parents. He went to Mexico in 1642, and thence to Manila (1643). His superiors sent him to Mindanao among the Subanos, where he labored zealously. He suffered martyrdom in that island January 7, 1650, during the insurrections. See Murillo Velarde, fol. 178–179 verso. ↑

23 Juan del Campo, S.J., was born in March 1620, in Villanueva de la Vera, near Jarandilla. His father was Juan del Campo, a member of the Holy Office. After studying at the Jesuit college in Oropesa, he joined the Society in 1636, despite his parents’ objections. He traveled to Mexico in 1642 and then to Manila in 1643. His superiors assigned him to Mindanao to work with the Subanos, where he dedicated himself vigorously. He was martyred on that island on January 7, 1650, during the uprisings. See Murillo Velarde, fol. 178–179 verso. ↑

24 Vicente Damian, S.J., was born in the city of Mecina, October 13, 1613, and after studying in a Jesuit college, entered the Society, March 20, 1630. After many vain efforts, he finally obtained permission to go to the Philippines, where he arrived in 1643. After completing his theological studies in Manila, he was sent to the Ibabao missions, where his preaching and works caused visible effects. After the death of Miguel Ponce, he was appointed rector in his place. He met death October 11, 1649 at the hands of the insurgents. See Murillo Velarde, fol. 176–178. ↑

24 Vicente Damian, S.J., was born in the city of Mecina on October 13, 1613. After studying at a Jesuit college, he joined the Society on March 20, 1630. After many unsuccessful attempts, he finally received permission to go to the Philippines, arriving there in 1643. After finishing his theological studies in Manila, he was sent to the Ibabao missions, where his preaching and work had noticeable effects. Following the death of Miguel Ponce, he was appointed rector. He was killed by insurgents on October 11, 1649. See Murillo Velarde, fol. 176–178. ↑

25 The Recollect Fray Miguel de Santo Tomás, minister at Butuan; it was he who cared for the survivors of the insurgents’ attack on Linao (VOL. XXXVI, p. 136). ↑

25 The Recollect Fray Miguel de Santo Tomás, the minister in Butuan, was the one who looked after the survivors of the attack by the insurgents in Linao (VOL. 36, p. 136). ↑

26 This name is quite erroneous. The person here referred to was Tuto, a member of the curious class among the Subanons of Mindanao who are called labias (see description post, in VOL. XL.) For Manila read Malandi (or Malandeg), the name of an ancient village on the coast near Zamboanga which disappeared after the abandonment of the fortress there. Tuto was baptized by Combés under the name of Martin, and often aided that missionary when he visited Tuto’s village of Malandi. (See Combés’s Hist. Mindanao, col. 63, 64, 514, 756, 786.) ↑

26 This name is completely wrong. The person mentioned here was Tuto, a member of the unique group among the Subanons of Mindanao known as labias (see description post, in VOL. 40) For Manila, read Malandi (or Malandeg), the name of an ancient village on the coast near Zamboanga that disappeared after the fortress there was abandoned. Tuto was baptized by Combés with the name Martin and often assisted that missionary when he visited Tuto’s village of Malandi. (See Combés’s Hist. Mindanao, col. 63, 64, 514, 756, 786.) ↑

27 Francisco Lado, a native of Sardinia, was born on June 2, 1617, and at the age of sixteen entered the Jesuit order. He died at San Pedro Macati, on May 19, 1677. (Retana and Pastells’s edition of Combés, col. 713.) ↑

27 Francisco Lado, originally from Sardinia, was born on June 2, 1617, and at sixteen, he joined the Jesuit order. He passed away in San Pedro Macati on May 19, 1677. (Retana and Pastells’s edition of Combés, col. 713.) ↑

28 A Sanskrit word, meaning “a learned man”—apparently borrowed by the Malays and used to designate their Mahometan teachers. ↑

28 A Sanskrit word that means “a learned man”—it seems to have been adopted by the Malays to refer to their Muslim teachers. ↑

29 Spanish, à las quarenta horas; a phrase usually referring to the devotion of forty hours in connection with the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament (usually occurring in times of public danger or distress). As nothing is said in the text of such exposition, the apparent meaning is that Tenorio finished his enterprise within forty hours after leaving Samboangan—a rendering for which the Spanish form is an unusual one, but not more so than many other expressions in Concepción’s pages. ↑

29 Spanish, à las quarenta horas; a phrase typically referring to the devotion of forty hours tied to the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament (often held during times of public crisis or distress). Since the text doesn’t mention this exposition, it seems to imply that Tenorio completed his task within forty hours after leaving Samboangan—a way of expressing it that is somewhat unusual in Spanish but not more so than many other phrases found in Concepción’s writing. ↑

30 This name is said (Retana and Pastells’s Combés, col. 739) to mean “lady who will be queen”—uley being a variant of uraya, the future of raia or raja (“king” or “queen”). Urancaya (ut supra, col. 787) is from orang (“man”) and kaya (“rich”). ↑

30 This name is said (Retana and Pastells’s Combés, col. 739) to mean “woman who will be queen”—uley being a variation of uraya, the future form of raia or raja (“king” or “queen”). Urancaya (ut supra, col. 787) comes from orang (“man”) and kaya (“wealthy”). ↑

31 Concepción states (Hist. de Philipinas, vii, p. 9) that an insufficient amount of timber was furnished for a ship then on the stocks, and Cortaberria urged on the overseers of the woodcutting, and they in turn their gangs of men, but with so much harshness that the latter mutinied. ↑

31 Concepción states (Hist. de Philipinas, vii, p. 9) that not enough timber was provided for a ship being built, and Cortaberria pressured the woodcutting overseers, who in turn pushed their teams of workers so ruthlessly that the workers rebelled. ↑

32 Pedro Camacho came from the Dominican convent at Sevilla, in the mission of 1648. He ministered to the Indians in and near Manila, and was director of the school of San Juan de Letran; he finally returned to Spain in 1659. (Reseña biográfica, p. 466.) ↑

32 Pedro Camacho came from the Dominican convent in Seville, on a mission in 1648. He served the Indigenous people in and around Manila and was the director of the San Juan de Letran school. He eventually returned to Spain in 1659. (Reseña biográfica, p. 466.) ↑

33 For description of tree-dwellings—made, however, by the natives of Mindanao—see VOL. XXI, pp. 239–241. ↑

33 For information about tree houses—crafted, however, by the people of Mindanao—see VOL. 21, pp. 239–241. ↑

34 This was Nicolas de Campo. ↑

34 This is Nicolas de Campo. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__

35 Spanish, morenos criollos. “There are creoles, or morenos, who are black negroes, natives of the country; there are many Cafres, and other negroes from Angola, Congo, and Africa” (Murillo Velarde, Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 5). ↑

35 Spanish, morenos criollos. “There are creoles or morenos, who are black individuals, natives of the country; there are many Cafres and other individuals from Angola, Congo, and Africa” (Murillo Velarde, Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 5). ↑

36 In Bolinao was a chief named Sumulay, a relative of Malóng, who tried to further the latter’s ambitious schemes; Sumulay was opposed by the missionary there, a discalced Augustinian named Juan Blancas. On January 5 Ugalde arrived at Bolinao, and conferred with Blancas. As the chief strength of the insurgents lay in their poisoned arrows, which caused mortal wounds, the friar induced a friendly chief to supply the Spanish troops with an antidote for this poison. Ugalde also procured there supplies of various kinds—among them, small boats which could enter the creeks, and hides of cattle with which to form shelters against the enemy’s arrows. (Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 16, 26, 27.) ↑

36 In Bolinao, there was a chief named Sumulay, who was related to Malóng and supported his ambitious plans. Sumulay faced opposition from a missionary there, a barefoot Augustinian named Juan Blancas. On January 5, Ugalde arrived in Bolinao and met with Blancas. Since the insurgents' main strength was in their poisoned arrows, which could cause fatal injuries, the friar persuaded a friendly chief to provide the Spanish troops with an antidote for the poison. Ugalde also obtained various supplies, including small boats that could navigate the creeks and cattle hides to create shelters against the enemy’s arrows. (Concepción, Hist. de Philipinas, vii, pp. 16, 26, 27.) ↑

37 Juan Camacho made his profession in the Dominican convent of Almagro, April 19, 1638, and came to the Philippines in 1648. Most of his remaining years were spent in the Pangasinán missions; but in 1668 he became prior of the Manila convent, and a year later provincial. In his old age, he was summoned to Mexico by the Inquisition on a scandalous charge; his innocence being declared after four years, he returned to the islands, and died at Manila in 1700. (Reseña biográfica, i, p. 471.) ↑

37 Juan Camacho entered the Dominican convent in Almagro on April 19, 1638, and arrived in the Philippines in 1648. He spent most of his later years working in the Pangasinán missions; however, in 1668, he became the prior of the Manila convent, and a year later, he was appointed provincial. In his old age, the Inquisition summoned him to Mexico over a scandalous accusation; after four years, he was declared innocent and returned to the islands, where he died in Manila in 1700. (Reseña biográfica, i, p. 471.) ↑

38 Probably alluding to Santa Cruz’s Hist. Sant. Rosario; he mentions the insurgent leader Malóng as dying “a very good Christian” (p. 340), and the insurgents as deluded and misled. His account of the rebellion is much shorter than Diaz’s. It will be remembered that the Dominicans had spiritual charge of Pangasinán. ↑

38 He likely references Santa Cruz’s Hist. Sant. Rosario; he describes the insurgent leader Malóng as having died “a very good Christian” (p. 340), and views the insurgents as confused and misguided. His narrative of the rebellion is much briefer than Diaz’s. It's important to recall that the Dominicans were in charge of the spiritual matters in Pangasinán. ↑

39 Bernardino Márquez, a native of Galicia, made his profession in the convent of Toro, and came to the islands in 1645. He spent the rest of his life mainly in the Ilocan missions, and died in 1680. (Pérez’s Catálogo, p. 120.) ↑

39 Bernardino Márquez, originally from Galicia, took his vows in the convent of Toro and arrived in the islands in 1645. He dedicated the rest of his life primarily to the Ilocan missions and passed away in 1680. (Pérez’s Catálogo, p. 120.) ↑

40 A misprint for balarao (or bararao), another name for the kris—see VOL. XVI, p. 81, and VOL. XXVIII, p. 55. ↑

40 A misprint for balarao (or bararao), another name for the kris—see VOL. 16, p. 81, and VOL. 28, p. 55. ↑

41 Thus in the text, in most places; but in Pérez’s Catálogo the name is written “de la Isla.” ↑

41 So, in the text, it's mostly written this way; but in Pérez’s Catálogo, the name appears as “de la Isla.” ↑

42 Juan Polanco was a native of the hill-country of Burgos, and professed in the Dominican convent at Valladolid in 1639. He came to the islands in 1658, and, after learning the Chinese language, went to China; he spent two years there, suffering persecutions and torture. He was then appointed procurator-general of his order at Madrid and Rome, in which service he sent to the Philippines the mission of 1666. He died at Sevilla, on December 2, 1671. ↑

42 Juan Polanco was originally from the Burgos hill country and joined the Dominican convent in Valladolid in 1639. He arrived in the islands in 1658, and after learning Chinese, traveled to China; he endured persecution and torture for two years there. Later, he was appointed procurator-general of his order in Madrid and Rome, where he organized the mission of 1666 to the Philippines. He passed away in Sevilla on December 2, 1671. ↑

43 Thus in text; apparently a misprint for Polanco. ↑

43 So in the text; probably a typo for Polanco. ↑

44 This name is not found in the gazetteers of the present time; but it must have been in the mountains east of Vigán, from which Narvacán is thirteen miles southeast. ↑

44 This name isn’t listed in today’s maps; however, it was likely located in the mountains east of Vigan, which is thirteen miles southeast of Narvacan. ↑

45 Concepción makes this number eight hundred (vii, p. 31), as does Murillo Velarde (fol. 256). Both they and Diaz give the numbers in words, not figures. ↑

45 Concepción states this as eight hundred (vii, p. 31), just like Murillo Velarde (fol. 256). Both he and Diaz write the numbers out in words, not digits. ↑

46 Talabón: a name given to a sort of litter (also known as petaca—which also means “a covered box or basket”—and lorimón), which is usually conveyed by four men in their hands or on their shoulders, after the fashion of a silla gestatoria (a portable chair used by the pope on great occasions), but closed.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A. ↑

46 Talabón: a term for a type of litter (also known as petaca—which also refers to “a covered box or basket”—and lorimón), typically carried by four men either in their hands or on their shoulders, similar to a silla gestatoria (a portable chair used by the pope on important occasions), but enclosed.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A. ↑

47 See preceding note on talabón (p. 199). ↑

47 Refer to the earlier note on talabón (p. 199). ↑

48 This statement does not agree with that in the next paragraph which states that this chief was hanged at Vigán. ↑

48 This statement conflicts with the one in the next paragraph, which says that this chief was hanged in Vigán. ↑

49 Elsewhere printed Bisaya. The Tagal word buaya means “crocodile,” which gives some basis for the conjecture that Boaya was the chief’s name, as persons are often named for animals, among barbarous peoples. ↑

49 Elsewhere, Bisaya is printed. The Tagalog word buaya means “crocodile,” which supports the idea that Boaya was the chief’s name, as people are often named after animals in many cultures. ↑

50 Verse 121: “I have done judgment and justice; give me not up to them that slander me.” ↑

50 Verse 121: “I have acted with fairness and justice; don't hand me over to those who gossip about me.” ↑

51 Spanish, como cuñas del mismo palo; alluding to the proverb, No hay peor cuña que la del mismo palo, equivalent to “there is no worse enemy than an alienated friend.” ↑

51 Spanish, como cuñas del mismo palo; referring to the saying, No hay peor cuña que la del mismo palo, which means “there’s no worse enemy than a turned friend.” ↑

52 Alluding to the threatened invasion of the Philippines by Kue-sing, the Chinese adventurer, and the consequent disturbances among the Chinese in the islands, with the ravages made by the Moro pirates—all in 1662. See accounts in VOL. XXXVI. ↑

52 Referring to the impending invasion of the Philippines by Kue-sing, the Chinese adventurer, and the resulting turmoil among the Chinese communities in the islands, along with the destruction caused by the Moro pirates—all in 1662. See accounts in VOL. 36. ↑

53 These houses were founded in the following order: Ogtóng (Otón), 1572; Tigbauan, 1575; Dumangas, 1578; Antique, 1581; Jaro, 1587; Guimbal, 1590; Passi (Pasig), 1593; Laglag, 1608. (In regard to Laglag, cf. our VOL. XXIII, p. 293.) For these dates, see Coco’s chronological table at end of Medina’s Historia, pp. 481–488. ↑

53 These houses were established in the following order: Ogtóng (Otón), 1572; Tigbauan, 1575; Dumangas, 1578; Antique, 1581; Jaro, 1587; Guimbal, 1590; Passi (Pasig), 1593; Laglag, 1608. (Regarding Laglag, see our VOL. 23, p. 293.) For these dates, check Coco’s chronological table at the end of Medina’s Historia, pp. 481–488. ↑

54 These houses were thus founded: Panay and Dumárao, 1581; Dumalag (or Ayombón), 1506; Batán, 1601; Mambúsao, 1606; Cápiz, 1707. Aclán was founded by the Augustinians, in 1581; and Ibahay, in 1611. See table mentioned in note 100, above. ↑

54 These houses were established as follows: Panay and Dumárao in 1581; Dumalag (or Ayombón) in 1506; Batán in 1601; Mambúsao in 1606; and Cápiz in 1707. Aclán was founded by the Augustinians in 1581, and Ibahay in 1611. See the table mentioned in note 100 above. ↑

55 Laglag is now named Dueñas. This wretched custom of changing the old names, substituting for them new ones which have no connection with the place to which they are applied nor with Filipinas, has unfortunately become general in those islands; and for the sake of pleasing or flattering some captain-general, alcalde, or cura, history is grievously obscured.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A. ↑

55 Laglag is now called Dueñas. This unfortunate practice of changing the old names for new ones that have no connection to the places they're applied to or to the Philippines has unfortunately become widespread in those islands; and to please or flatter some captain-general, mayor, or priest, history is severely distorted.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A. ↑

56 Pérez says (Catálogo, p. 199) that Mesa was a native of Mexico, but made his profession (1644) in the convent of San Pablo at Manila. In 1656 he became minister at Dumalag, and in 1659 at Laglag. ↑

56 Pérez states (Catálogo, p. 199) that Mesa was originally from Mexico, but began his ministry (1644) in the convent of San Pablo in Manila. In 1656, he became the minister in Dumalag, and in 1659 at Laglag. ↑

57 This mingling of religion and idolatry was frequent among the newly-converted Indians, who by not living conformably to the just severity of the gospel precepts, apostatized from the faith; and even today cases of similar amalgamation occur. The Indians of Filipinas did not offer sacrifices to the demon because they believed that he was some divinity, for they had knowledge of his being an evil spirit: but through fear, so that by keeping him satisfied he should do them no harm, or else that he might aid them to carry out some depraved purpose.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A. ↑

57 This blending of religion and idol worship was common among the newly-converted Indigenous people, who, by not adhering to the strict demands of the gospel teachings, fell away from the faith; and even today, similar cases happen. The Indigenous people of the Philippines didn’t offer sacrifices to the demon because they thought he was a god, as they knew he was an evil spirit: but out of fear, to keep him pleased so he wouldn’t harm them, or so he might help them pursue some wicked desire.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A. ↑

58 Thus in the text, but evidently an error; it should doubtless be regarded as an error for Malonor. ↑

58 So in the text, but it's clearly a mistake; it should certainly be seen as a mistake for Malonor. ↑

59 A similar death was the fate of that most pious father Fray Isidro Badrena—on April 9 in the year 1874, in the hills near the town of Tubungan—when he was exhorting some apostate Indians to desist from offering an idolatrous sacrifice.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A.

59 A similar fate befell the devout Fray Isidro Badrena—on April 9, 1874, in the hills near the town of Tubungan—while he was urging some converted Indians to stop making idolatrous sacrifices.—Rev. Tirso López, O.S.A.

Tubungan is seventeen miles west-northwest of Iloilo. ↑

Tubungan is seventeen miles west-northwest of Iloilo. ↑

60 The modern form of this name is Jalaur; this fine river, with its numerous affluents, waters the northeastern part of the province of Iloilo, Panay. The “river of Laglag” is evidently the Ulián, which flows into the Jalaur near Laglag (the modern Dueñas). Apparently the culprits, both living and dead, were fastened to stakes in the river, to be eaten by crocodiles. ↑

60 The modern version of this name is Jalaur; this beautiful river, along with its many tributaries, flows through the northeastern part of Iloilo in Panay. The “river of Laglag” clearly refers to the Ulián, which joins the Jalaur near Laglag (now known as Dueñas). It seems that both the living and the deceased were tied to stakes in the river to be consumed by crocodiles. ↑

61 Delgado relates this incident (Hist. de Filipinas, p. 280) as a specimen of the credulity of the natives, and adds this other instance: “While I was in the village of Lipa, the discovery was made in the village of Tanauan of a mine which was said to be of silver. Officials and workmen were sent to examine it, and test the ore, by the governor Don Fausto Cruzat y Góngora; they did so diligently, but the mine said only, Argentum et aurum non est mihi [i.e., “Silver and gold have I none”]. At that time the devil caused some arrant knave to spread the lying tale that the miners declared that the mine would not yield silver until this were done: all the Visayans of Comintan must be seized and their eyes gouged out, and these must be mixed with other ingredients, and the ore-vein of the mine rubbed with that compound. This was so thoroughly believed that every one was anxious and tearful, and the old women hid themselves in the grain-fields; and it took a long time to quiet them, with much labor of the [religious] ministers (whom they did not believe, because these were Castilians), until in the course of time they were undeceived.” ↑

61 Delgado shares this event (Hist. de Filipinas, p. 280) as an example of the gullibility of the locals, and adds another example: “While I was in the village of Lipa, a discovery was made in the village of Tanauan of a mine rumored to contain silver. Officials and workers were sent to investigate it and test the ore by Governor Don Fausto Cruzat y Góngora; they did so diligently, but the mine merely said, Argentum et aurum non est mihi [i.e., “Silver and gold have I none”]. Around that time, the devil led some scoundrel to spread the false story that the miners claimed the mine would not yield silver unless this was done: all the Visayans of Comintan must be captured, their eyes gouged out, and mixed with other ingredients to rub on the ore vein of the mine. This was believed so wholeheartedly that everyone was anxious and crying, and the old women hid themselves in the grain fields; it took a long time to calm them down, with a lot of effort from the [religious] ministers (whom they didn’t trust because they were Castilians), until eventually they were set straight.” ↑

62 Apparently a misprint, as Diaz usually makes it Pignauen, but both forms seem improbable, as compared with Paynauén—cf. that name in next section of this document, and in Concepción (viii, p. 14)—and suggest carelessness in transcription from the MS. of Diaz. It is written Paynaven in various documents cited in Reseña biográfica, i, p. 490, et seq. Neither name appears in modern gazetteers. ↑

62 It seems to be a misprint, since Diaz usually refers to it as Pignauen, but both versions seem unlikely when compared to Paynauén—see that name in the next section of this document and in Concepción (viii, p. 14)—and indicate some carelessness in copying from Diaz's manuscript. It is listed as Paynaven in several documents noted in Reseña biográfica, i, p. 490, et seq. Neither name is found in modern maps. ↑

63 He was killed in the expedition against the Igorrotes, about 1666; Diaz says (p. 654) that Ugalde went with four thousand pesos to pay the troops, without sufficient escort, and was waylaid and slain by Zambals. Paynauén was founded at that time. ↑

63 He was killed during the expedition against the Igorrotes around 1666; Diaz mentions (p. 654) that Ugalde went with four thousand pesos to pay the soldiers, without enough escort, and was ambushed and killed by Zambals. Paynauén was established during that time. ↑

64 Domingo Pérez was born in 1636 near Santillana, and professed in the Dominican convent at Trianos, at the age of twenty-three. He came to the islands in 1666, and in the following year was sent to the Bataan missions, and soon afterward to those among the Zambal tribes; the rest of his life, save during 1677–79, was spent among the Zambals. He wrote an “account of the customs and superstitions of the Zambals.” (Reseña biográfica, ii, pp. 34–43.) ↑

64 Domingo Pérez was born in 1636 near Santillana and joined the Dominican convent at Trianos when he was twenty-three. He arrived in the islands in 1666, and the following year, he was assigned to the Bataan missions, and soon after, to work with the Zambal tribes; he spent most of his life there, except for the years 1677–79. He wrote a report on the customs and superstitions of the Zambals. (Reseña biográfica, ii, pp. 34–43.) ↑

65 “N” in Spanish stands for some proper name unknown, or not intended to be expressed, like the English “Mr. Blank,” or “So-and-So.” ↑

65 “N” in Spanish represents a name that is either unknown or not meant to be revealed, similar to how we use “Mr. Blank” or “So-and-So” in English. ↑

66 The missions to the Zambals were previously in the hands the Augustinian Recollects. A royal decree dated June 18, 1677 commanded the archbishop of Manila to place the missions of Mindoro in charge of one of the religious orders. Concepción states (Hist. de Philipinas, viii, pp. 4–16) that Pardo thereupon compelled the Recollects to give up the Zambal missions to the Dominicans, receiving in exchange therefor those of Mindoro that the natives in the latter desired to have Jesuits sent to them, and that the Zambals preferred the Dominicans, but that the opposition of both was overcome by the persuasions of government officials; and that the Dominicans, in their zeal for condensing the scattered Zambal population, made several blunders by removing certain villages to very unsuitable and disadvantageous locations.

66 The missions to the Zambals were previously managed by the Augustinian Recollects. A royal decree dated June 18, 1677, directed the archbishop of Manila to assign the missions of Mindoro to one of the religious orders. Concepción states (Hist. de Philipinas, viii, pp. 4–16) that Pardo then forced the Recollects to hand over the Zambal missions to the Dominicans, in exchange for the Mindoro missions that the local people there wanted Jesuits to oversee. The Zambals preferred the Dominicans, but this opposition from both sides was overcome by government officials' persuasion. The Dominicans, eager to consolidate the scattered Zambal population, made several mistakes by relocating certain villages to very unsuitable and disadvantageous areas.

The compiler of Reseña biográfica asserts that Concepción’s statements are incorrect. He claims that the Zambal in 1676 asked for religious instruction, stipulating that Dominican missionaries be sent them, which was done; that soon the Recollects began to complain of this, as an intrusion on their field of labor, and the Dominicans therefore withdrew their laborers; that this field was afterward given to the Dominicans by Archbishop Pardo (1679), on account of its being neglected by the Recollects; that the attempt to carry on the Zambal missions cost the Dominicans great loss of money and men, without producing satisfactory results, and therefore they offered several times to give up this charge; and that finally (1712) they did actually renounce and surrender the Zambal missions. In proof of these statements he cites not only Salazar’s Historia, but various documents and records from the Dominican archives at Manila. (See Reseña biográfica, i, pp. 486–504; this resumé is accompanied by an interesting report of the work accomplished by the Dominicans in those missions during the years 1680–90, made by Fray Gregorio Jiraldez, June 2, 1690.) ↑

The compiler of Reseña biográfica claims that Concepción’s statements are wrong. He states that the Zambal, in 1676, requested religious instruction and specifically asked for Dominican missionaries to be sent, which happened. Soon after, the Recollects started to complain about this, seeing it as an invasion of their territory, and as a result, the Dominicans pulled out their workers. Later, this area was given back to the Dominicans by Archbishop Pardo in 1679 because the Recollects had been neglecting it. The effort to continue the Zambal missions led to significant financial losses and a decline in men for the Dominicans, without delivering satisfactory results, and so they offered several times to abandon this mission. Ultimately, in 1712, they officially gave up and surrendered the Zambal missions. To support these claims, he references not only Salazar’s Historia, but also various documents and records from the Dominican archives in Manila. (See Reseña biográfica, i, pp. 486–504; this summary is accompanied by an interesting report detailing the work done by the Dominicans in those missions during the years 1680–90, prepared by Fray Gregorio Jiraldez on June 2, 1690.) ↑

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DAMPIER IN THE PHILIPPINES

[Following is a synopsis and verbatim transcription of the voyages made by William Dampier1 during the years 1679–1691, as related in the first volume of his New Voyage Round the World.2 The introduction [242]and first nine chapters describe his voyages in American waters. With chapter x begins his experience in Eastern waters.]

[Following is a synopsis and verbatim transcription of the voyages made by William Dampier1 during the years 1679–1691, as told in the first volume of his New Voyage Round the World.2 The introduction [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]and first nine chapters describe his voyages in American waters. With chapter x begins his experience in Eastern waters.]

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CHAP. X

Their Departure from Cape Corrientes for the Ladrone Islands, and the East-Indies. Their Course thither, and Accidents by the way: with a Table of each days Run, &c. Of the different accounts of the breadth of these Seas. Guam, one of the Ladrone Islands. The Coco-Nut Tree, Fruit, &c. The Toddi, or Arack that distils from it; with other Uses that are made of it. Coire Cables. The Lime, or Crab Limon. The Bread-fruit. The native Indians of Guam. Their Proe’s, a remarkable sort of Boats: and of those used in the East-Indies. The State of Guam: and the Provisions with which they were furnish’d there.

Their departure from Cape Corrientes for the Ladrone Islands and the East Indies. Their route there, and incidents along the way: with a record of each day's journey, etc. The various accounts of the width of these seas. Guam, one of the Ladrone Islands. The coconut tree, fruit, etc. The Toddi, or arack that is distilled from it; along with other uses for it. Coire cables. The lime, or crab limon. The breadfruit. The native Indians of Guam. Their proas, a distinctive type of boat; and those used in the East Indies. The situation in Guam: and the supplies they had available there.

I have given an Account in the last Chapter of the Resolutions we took of going over to the East-Indies. But having more calmly considered on the length of our Voyage, from hence to Guam, one of the Ladrone Islands, which is the first place that we could touch at, and there also not being certain to find Provisions, [243]most of our Men were almost daunted at the thoughts of it; for we had not 60 days Provision, at a little more than half a pint of Maiz a day for each Man, and no other Provision, except 3 Meals of salted Jew-fish;3 and we had a great many Rats aboard, which we could not hinder from eating part of our Maiz. Beside, the great distance between Cape Corrientes and Guam: which is variously set down. The Spaniards, who have the greatest reason to know best, make it to be between 2300 and 2400 Leagues; our Books also reckon it differently, between 90 and 100 degrees, which all comes short indeed of 2000 Leagues, but even that was a Voyage enough to frighten us, considering our scanty Provisions. Captain Swan, to encourage his Men to go with him, perswaded them that the English Books did give the best account of the distance; his Reasons were many, although but weak. He urged among the rest, that Sir Thomas Candish and Sir Francis Drake, did run it in less than 50 Days, and that he did not question but that our Ships were better sailers, than those which were built in that Age, and that he did not doubt to get there in little more than 40 Days: This being the best time in the Year for breezes, which undoubtedly is the reason that the [244]Spaniards set out from Acapulco about this time; and that although they are 60 Days in their Voyage, it is because they are great Ships, deep laden, and very heavy sailers; besides, they wanting nothing, are in no great haste in their way, but sail with a great deal of their usual Caution. And when they come near the Island Guam, they lie by in the Night for a Week, before they make Land. In prudence we also should have contrived to lie by in the Night when we came near Land, for otherwise we might have run ashoar, or have outsailed the Islands, and lost sight of them before Morning. But our bold Adventures seldom proceed with such wariness when in any straights.

I detailed in the last chapter the plans we made to head to the East-Indies. However, after thinking more carefully about the long journey from here to Guam, one of the Ladrone Islands and our first potential stop, where we weren't even sure we would find supplies, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] most of our crew felt discouraged at the idea. We had less than 60 days' worth of supplies, just a little over half a pint of corn per person each day, plus three meals of salted Jew-fish; 3 and we had a lot of rats on board that were eating into our corn supply. Additionally, the distance from Cape Corrientes to Guam is reported differently. The Spaniards, who should know best, estimate it to be between 2300 and 2400 leagues; our books also record it variably, between 90 and 100 degrees, which falls short of 2000 leagues, but even that felt like a daunting journey given our limited provisions. Captain Swan tried to motivate his crew to join him by claiming that the English sources provided the most accurate account of the distance. He had several reasons, albeit weak ones. Among them, he mentioned that Sir Thomas Candish and Sir Francis Drake made the trip in less than 50 days, and he believed our ships were faster than those built in that era, confident that we could reach there in just over 40 days. This was the best time of year for favorable winds, which is likely why the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Spaniards depart from Acapulco around this period; and although their voyage takes 60 days, it’s because their ships are large, heavily loaded, and slow. Plus, since they have everything they need, they aren’t in a rush and proceed with their usual caution. When they approach Guam, they often wait for a week at night before making landfall. Practically, we should have also planned to wait at night as we neared land, or else we risked running aground or sailing past the islands and losing sight of them before morning. But daring adventurers rarely act with such caution in tricky situations.

But of all Captain Swan’s Arguments, that which prevailed most with them was, his promising them, as I have said, to cruise off the Manila’s. So he and his Men being now agreed, and they incouraged with the hope of gain, which works its way thro’ all Difficulties, we set out from Cape Corrientes March the 31st, 1686. We were 2 Ships in Company, Captain Swan’s Ship, and a Bark commanded under Captain Swan, by Captain Teat, and we were 150 Men, 100 aboard of the Ship, and 50 aboard the Bark, beside Slaves, as I said.

But of all Captain Swan’s arguments, the one that convinced them the most was his promise, as I mentioned, to cruise off the Manila’s. So he and his men agreed, fueled by the hope of profit, which pushes through all challenges, and we set sail from Cape Corrientes on March 31, 1686. There were 2 ships in company: Captain Swan’s ship and a bark commanded by Captain Swan, under Captain Teat, and we had 150 men—100 on the ship and 50 on the bark, in addition to the slaves, as I said.

We had a small Land-wind at E.N.E. which carried us three or four Leagues, then the Sea-wind came at W.N.W. a fresh gale, so we steered away S.W. By 6 a Clock in the Evening we were about 9 Leagues S. W. from the Cape, then we met a Land-wind which blew fresh all Night, and the next Morning about 10 a Clock we had the Sea-breez at N.N.E. so that at Noon we were 30 leagues from the Cape. It blew a fresh gale of Wind, which carries [245]us off into the true Trade-wind, (of the difference of which Trade-winds I shall speak in the Chapter of Winds, in the Appendix)4 for although the constant Sea-breez near the Shoar is at W.N.W. yet the true Trade off at Sea, when you are clear of the Land-winds, is at E.N.E. At first we had it at N.N.E. so it came about Northerly, and then to the East as we run off. At 250 leagues distance from the shoar we had it at E.N.E. and there it stood till we came within 40 leagues of Guam. When we had eaten up our 3 Meals of salted Jew-fish, in so many Days time, we had nothing but our small allowance of Maiz.

We had a light land breeze coming from the E.N.E. that pushed us three or four leagues, then the sea breeze picked up from the W.N.W. as a strong gale, so we headed S.W. By 6 PM, we were about 9 leagues S.W. from the Cape, then encountered a land breeze that blew strongly all night. The next morning around 10 AM, we got a sea breeze from the N.N.E., and by noon, we were 30 leagues from the Cape. It was blowing a strong gale, taking [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] us into the true trade winds, (which I will discuss in the Chapter of Winds in the Appendix)4. Although the consistent sea breeze near the shore is from the W.N.W., the true trade winds offshore, once you're clear of the land breezes, come from the E.N.E. Initially, we had it at N.N.E., then it shifted to the north, and finally to the east as we moved away. At 250 leagues from the shore, it settled at E.N.E. and stayed that way until we got within 40 leagues of Guam. After consuming our three meals of salted Jewfish over the course of a few days, we were left with just our small portion of maize.

After the 31st Day of March we made great runs every Day, having very fair clear Weather, and a fresh Trade-wind, which we made use of with all our Sails, and we made many good Observations of the Sun. At our first setting out, we steered into the lat. of 13 degrees, which is near the lat. of Guam; then we steered West, keeping in that lat. By that time we had sailed 20 Days, our Men seeing we made such great runs, and the Wind like to continue, repined because they were kept at such short allowance. Captain Swan endeavored to perswade them to have a little Patience; yet nothing but an augmentation of their daily allowance would appeasse them. Captain Swan though with much reluctance, gave way to a small enlargement of our Commons, for now we had not above 10 spoonfuls of boil’d Maiz a Man, once a day, whereas before we had 8: I do believe that this short allowance did me a great deal of good, though others were weakened by it; for I found that [246]my Strength encreased, and my Dropsie wore off. Yet I drank 3 times every 24 Hours; but many of our Men did not drink in 9 or 10 days time, and some not in 12 days; one of our Men did not drink in 17 days time, and said he was not adry when he did drink; yet he made water every day more or less. One of our Men in the midst of these hardships was found guilty of theft, and condemned for the same, to have 3 blows from each Man in the Ship, with a 2 inch and a half rope on his bare back. Captain Swan began first, and struck with a good will; whose example was followed by all of us.

After the 31st of March, we had great travel every day, enjoying fair clear weather and a fresh trade wind, which we took advantage of by using all our sails. We made many good observations of the sun. When we first set out, we headed towards the latitude of 13 degrees, which is close to the latitude of Guam; then we sailed west while staying in that latitude. By the time we had been sailing for 20 days, our crew noticed how well we were moving and that the wind was likely to stay favorable, but they started to complain about being on such a short food allowance. Captain Swan tried to convince them to be patient, but nothing would calm them down except an increase in their daily rations. Reluctantly, Captain Swan agreed to slightly increase our food supply, as we were only getting about 10 spoonfuls of boiled corn per person once a day, up from 8. I believe that this limited allowance helped me a lot, though it weakened others; I noticed that my strength was increasing and my swelling went down. Still, I drank three times every 24 hours, while many of our crew didn’t drink for 9 or 10 days, and some didn’t drink for 12 days; one man went 17 days without drinking and claimed he wasn’t thirsty when he finally did drink; yet he urinated every day, more or less. During these tough times, one of our crew was found guilty of theft and sentenced to receive three lashes from each man on the ship, using a 2.5-inch rope on his bare back. Captain Swan was the first to strike and did so with a good amount of force; his example was followed by all of us.

It was very strange, that in all this Voyage we did not see one Fish, not so much as a Flying-Fish, nor any sort of Fowl; but at one time, when we were by my account 4975 miles West from Cape Corrientes, then we saw a great number of Boobies, which we supposed came from some Rocks not far from us, which were mentioned in some of our Sea-Charts, but we did not see them.

It was really odd that during this entire journey, we didn’t spot a single fish, not even a flying fish, or any kind of bird. However, at one point, when we were about 4,975 miles west of Cape Corrientes, we saw a huge number of boobies, which we assumed came from some rocks nearby that were noted in some of our sea charts, but we didn’t actually see them.

After we had run the 1900 Leagues by our reckoning, which made the English account to Guam, the Men began to murmur against Captain Swan, for perswading them to come on this Voyage; but he gave them fair words, and told them that the Spanish account might probably be the truest, and seeing the Gale was likely to continue, a short time longer would end our troubles.

After we had traveled 1900 leagues according to our calculations, which brought the English to Guam, the crew started to complain about Captain Swan for convincing them to join this voyage. But he reassured them with kind words and said that the Spanish calculations might be more accurate, and since the storm was likely to last a little longer, sticking it out for a short time would resolve our issues.

As we drew nigh the Island, we met with some small Rain, and the Clouds settling in the West, were an apparent token that we were not far from Land; for in these Climates, betwixt or near the Tropicks, where the Trade-wind blows constantly, the Clouds which fly swift over head, yet seem near [247]the Limb of the Horizon to hang without much motion or alteration, where the Land is near. I have often taken notice of it, especially if it is high Land, for you shall then have the Clouds hang about it without any visible motion.

As we got closer to the island, we encountered some light rain, and the clouds settling in the west clearly indicated that we were approaching land. In these regions, especially around the tropics where the trade winds blow steadily, the clouds fly quickly overhead but appear to linger near the horizon with little movement or change when land is nearby. I've noticed this often, particularly with higher land, as the clouds will hover around it without any noticeable motion. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The 20th day of May, our Bark being about 3 Leagues a-head of our Ship, sailed over a rocky Shole, on which there was but 4 fathom water, and abundance of Fish swimming about the Rocks. They imagin’d by this that the Land was not far off; so they clap’d on a Wind with the Barks Head to the North, and being past the Shole lay by for us. When we came up with them, Captain Teat came aboard us, and related what he had seen. We were then in lat. 12. d. 55 m. steering West. The Island Guam is laid down in Lat. 13. d. N. by the Spaniards,5 who are Masters of it, keeping it as a baiting-place as they go to the Philippine Islands. Therefore we clap’d on a Wind and stood to Northward, being somewhat troubled and doubtful whether we were right, because there is no Shole laid down, in the Spanish Drafts about the Island Guam. At 4 a Clock, to our great Joy, we saw the Island Guam, at about 8 Leagues distance.

The 20th of May, our Bark was about 3 leagues ahead of our Ship, sailing over a rocky shoal where the water was only 4 fathoms deep, and there were plenty of fish swimming around the rocks. They thought this meant the land wasn’t far away, so they adjusted the Bark's heading to the North and waited for us after passing the shoal. When we caught up with them, Captain Teat came aboard and shared what he had seen. We were then at latitude 12° 55' north, heading West. The island Guam is marked at latitude 13° N by the Spaniards, who control it and use it as a stopping point on their way to the Philippine Islands. So, we changed course and headed North, feeling a bit uneasy and unsure if we were on the right track since there are no shoals marked on the Spanish charts around Guam. At 4 o'clock, to our great excitement, we spotted Guam about 8 leagues away.

It was well for Captain Swan that we got sight of it before our Provision was spent, of which we had but enough for 3 days more; for, as I was afterwards informed, the Men had contrived, first to kill Captain Swan and eat him when the Victuals was gone, and after him all of us who were accessary in promoting the undertaking this Voyage. This made Captain Swan say to me after our arrival at Guam, [248]Ah! Dampier, you would have made them but a poor Meal; for I was as lean as the Captain was lusty and fleshy. The Wind was at E.N.E. and the Land bore at N.N.E. therefore we stood to the Northward, till we brought the Island to bear East, and then we turned to get in to an anchor.

It was fortunate for Captain Swan that we spotted it before our supplies ran out, of which we only had enough for three more days; because, as I learned later, the men had planned to first kill Captain Swan and eat him when the food was gone, followed by all of us who had been involved in supporting this voyage. This made Captain Swan say to me after we arrived at Guam, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Ah! Dampier, you wouldn't have made a very good meal; because I was as skinny as the captain was robust and hefty. The wind was coming from the east-northeast and the land was seen to the north-northeast, so we headed north until we saw the island to the east, and then we turned to drop anchor.

[Here follows a table with entries from March 31 to May 21 showing the daily runs made by the ships. This table shows the course to have been almost due west after April 17. The variation in the needle is disregarded as it was so slight. Dampier declares that the sea-distances have been incorrectly stated. He continues:]

[Here follows a table with entries from March 31 to May 21 showing the daily runs made by the ships. This table shows the course to have been almost directly west after April 17. The variation in the compass is ignored as it was minimal. Dampier claims that the sea distances have been inaccurately reported. He continues:]

But to proceed with our Voyage: The Island Guam or Guahon, (as the Native Indians pronounce it) is one of the Ladrone Islands, belongs to the Spaniards, who have a small Fort with six Guns in it, with a Governour, and 20 or 30 Soldiers. They keep it for the relief and refreshment of their Philippine Ships, that touch here in their way from Acapulco to Manila, but the Winds will not so easily let them take this way back again. The Spaniards of late have named Guam, the Island Maria, it is about 12 leagues long, and 4 broad, lying N. and S. It is pretty high Champain Land.

But let's continue with our journey: The island Guam (or Guahon, as the native Indians say) is part of the Ladrone Islands and is owned by the Spaniards, who have a small fort with six cannons, a governor, and about 20 or 30 soldiers. They maintain it to provide support and refreshment for their Philippine ships that stop here on their way from Acapulco to Manila, but the winds don't easily allow them to return the same way. Recently, the Spaniards have started calling Guam the island Maria. It’s about 12 leagues long and 4 leagues wide, situated north and south. The land is mostly elevated and flat.

The 21st day of May, 1686, at 11 a Clock in the Evening, we anchored near the middle of the Island Guam, on the West side; a Mile from the shore. At a distance it appears flat and even, but coming near it you will find it stands shelving, and the East side, which is much the highest, is fenced with steep Rocks, that oppose the Violence of the Sea, which continually rage against it, being driven with the constant Trade-wind, and on that side there is no [249]Anchoring. The West side is pretty low, and full of small sandy Bays, divided with as many rocky Points. The Soil of the Island is reddish, dry and indifferent fruitful. The Fruits are chiefly Rice, Pine-Apples, Water-melons, Musk-melons, Oranges, and Limes, Coco-nuts, and a sort of Fruit called by us Bread-fruit.

On May 21, 1686, at 11 PM, we anchored near the middle of Guam Island, on the west side, about a mile from the shore. From a distance, it looks flat and even, but as you get closer, you'll notice it slopes down, and the eastern side, which is much higher, is protected by steep rocks that withstand the violent waves of the sea, which constantly crash against it driven by the steady trade winds. There’s no anchoring on that side. The west side is relatively low and has many small sandy bays separated by rocky points. The soil of the island is reddish, dry, and not very fertile. The main fruits are rice, pineapples, watermelons, muskmelons, oranges, limes, coconuts, and a type of fruit we call breadfruit.

The Coco-nut Trees grow by the Sea, on the Western side in great Groves, 3 or 4 Miles in length, and a Mile or two broad. This Tree is in shape like the Cabbage-tree, and at a distance they are not to be known each from other, only the Coco-nut Tree is fuller of Branches; but the Cabbage-tree generally is much higher, tho’ the Coco-nut Trees in some places are very high.

The coconut trees grow by the sea, on the western side, in large groves that are 3 or 4 miles long and 1 or 2 miles wide. This tree looks similar to the cabbage tree, and from a distance, you can't easily tell them apart, except that the coconut tree has more branches. However, the cabbage tree is usually much taller, although in some places, the coconut trees can be quite tall too.

The Nut or Fruit grows at the head of the Tree, among the Branches and in Clusters, 10 or 12 in a Cluster. The Branch to which they grow is about the bigness of a Man’s Arm, and as long, running small towards the end. It is of a yellow Colour, full of Knots and very tough. The Nut is generally bigger than a Man’s Head. The outer Rind is near two Inches thick, before you come to the Shell; the Shell it self is black, thick, and very hard. The Kernel in some Nuts is near an Inch thick, sticking to the inside of the Shell clear round, leaving a hollow in the middle of it, which contains about a Pint, more or less, according to the bigness of the Nut, for some are much bigger than others.

The nut or fruit grows at the top of the tree, among the branches and in clusters of 10 or 12. The branch it grows on is about the size of a human arm and just as long, tapering off towards the end. It has a yellow color, is gnarled, and very tough. The nut is generally larger than a human head. The outer shell is almost two inches thick before reaching the hard shell underneath, which is black, thick, and very strong. The kernel in some nuts is nearly an inch thick, adhering to the inside of the shell, leaving a hollow space in the middle that holds about a pint, more or less, depending on how big the nut is, as some are significantly larger than others.

This Cavity is full of sweet, delicate, wholsome and refreshing Water. While the Nut is growing, all the inside is full of this Water, without any Kernel at all; but as the Nut grows towards its Maturity, the Kernel begins to gather and settle round on the [250]inside of the Shell, and is soft like Cream, and as the Nut ripens, it increaseth in substance and becomes hard. The ripe Kernel is sweet enough, but very hard to digest, therefore seldom eaten, unless by Strangers, who know not the effects of it; but while it is young and soft like Pap, some Men will eat it, scraping it out with a Spoon, after they have drunk the Water that was within it. I like the Water best when the Nut is almost ripe, for it is then sweetest and briskest.

This cavity is filled with sweet, delicate, wholesome, and refreshing water. While the nut is growing, the inside is completely filled with this water, with no kernel at all. But as the nut matures, the kernel starts to gather and settle around the inside of the shell, becoming soft like cream. As the nut ripens, the kernel increases in substance and becomes hard. The ripe kernel is sweet enough but very hard to digest, so it’s rarely eaten, except by those unfamiliar with its effects. However, when it’s young and soft like pudding, some people will eat it, scooping it out with a spoon after drinking the water inside. I prefer the water when the nut is nearly ripe, as it is sweetest and most refreshing then.

When these Nuts are ripe and gathered, the outside Rind becomes of a brown rusty colour; so that one would think that they were dead and dry; yet they will sprout out like Onions, after they have been hanging in the Sun 3 or 4 Months, or thrown about in a House or Ship, and if planted afterward in the Earth, they will grow up to a Tree. Before they thus sprout out, there is a small spungy round knob grows in the inside, which we call an Apple. This at first is no bigger than the top of one’s finger, but increaseth daily, sucking up the Water till it is grown so big as to fill up the Cavity of the Coconut, and then it begins to sprout forth. By this time the Nut that was hard, begins to grow oily and soft, thereby giving passage to the Sprout that springs from the Apple, which Nature hath so contrived, that it points to the hole in the Shell, (of which there are three, till it grows ripe, just where it’s fastned by its Stalk to the Tree; but one of these holes remains open, even when it is ripe) through which it creeps and spreads forth its Branches. You may let these teeming Nuts sprout out a foot and half, or two foot high before you plant them, for they will grow a great while like an Onion out of their own Substance. [251]

When these nuts are ripe and collected, the outer shell turns a rusty brown color, making them look dead and dry. However, they will sprout like onions after sitting in the sun for 3 or 4 months or being tossed around in a house or ship. If planted in the ground afterward, they can grow into a tree. Before they sprout, a small spongy round knob grows inside, which we call an apple. At first, it’s no larger than a fingertip, but it grows daily, absorbing water until it fills the cavity of the coconut, and then it starts to sprout. By this time, the hard nut begins to become oily and soft, allowing the sprout from the apple to emerge. Nature has designed it so that it points toward a hole in the shell (there are three holes until it ripens, located where it's attached by its stalk to the tree, but one of these holes remains open even when ripe), through which it pushes out and spreads its branches. You can let these budding nuts grow to about a foot and a half or two feet high before planting them, as they will continue to grow like an onion, using their own stored energy. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Beside the Liquor or Water in the Fruit, there is also a sort of Wine drawn from the Tree called Toddy, which looks like Whey. It is sweet and very pleasant, but it is to be drunk within 24 hours after it is drawn, for afterwards it grows sowre. Those that have a great many Trees, draw a Spirit from the sowre Wine, called Arack. Arack is distill’d also from Rice, and other things in the East-Indies; but none is so much esteemed for making Punch as this sort made of Toddy, or the sap of the Coco-nut Tree, for it makes most delicate Punch; but it must have a dash of Brandy to hearten it, because this Arack is not strong enough to make good Punch of it self. This sort of Liquor is chiefly used about Goa; and therefore it has the name of Goa Arack. The way of drawing the Toddy from the Tree, is by cutting the top of a Branch that would bear Nuts; but before it has any Fruit; and from thence the Liquor which was to feed its Fruit, distils into the hole of a Callabash that is hung upon it.

Beside the liquor or water in the fruit, there's also a type of wine extracted from the tree called Toddy, which resembles whey. It’s sweet and very enjoyable, but it needs to be consumed within 24 hours after it's drawn, as it turns sour afterwards. Those who have many trees extract a spirit from the sour wine, called Arack. Arack is also distilled from rice and other ingredients in the East Indies; however, none is more valued for making punch than this type derived from Toddy, or the sap of the coconut tree, as it produces the most delightful punch. But it requires a splash of brandy to strengthen it, since this Arack alone isn't potent enough to create good punch. This type of liquor is mainly used around Goa; hence, it's known as Goa Arack. The method of extracting Toddy from the tree involves cutting the top of a branch that would bear nuts before it bears any fruit; from there, the liquid meant to nourish its fruit drips into a calabash that's hung below it.

This Branch continues running amost as long as the Fruit would have been growing, and then it dries away. The Tree hath usually three fruitful Branches, which if they be all tapp’d thus, then the Tree bears no Fruit that Year; but if one or two only be tapp’d, the other will bear Fruit all the while. The Liquor which is thus drawn is emptied out of the Callabash duly Morning and Evening, so long as it continues running, and is sold every Morning and Evening in most Towns in the East Indies, and great gains are produced from it even this way; but those that distil it and make Arack, reap the greatest profit. There is also great profit made of the Fruit, both of the Nut and the Shell. [252]

This branch keeps producing almost as long as the fruit is growing, and then it dries up. The tree usually has three fruitful branches, and if all of them are tapped, the tree won't produce any fruit that year. However, if only one or two are tapped, the others will continue to bear fruit. The liquid drawn from it is collected from the gourd every morning and evening as long as it keeps flowing, and it’s sold in most towns in the East Indies every morning and evening, generating significant profits this way. Those who distill it to make Arack earn the most profit. Additionally, there's a good profit to be made from both the nut and the shell. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

The Kernel is much used in making Broath. When the Nut is dry, they take off the Husk, and giving two good Blows on the middle of the Nut, it breaks in two equal parts, letting the Water fall on the Ground; then with a small Iron Rasp made for the purpose, the Kernel or Nut is rasped out clean, which being put into a little fresh Water, makes it become white as Milk. In this milky Water they boil a Fowl, or any other sort of Flesh, and it makes very savory Broath. English Seamen put this Water into boiled Rice, which they eat instead of Rice-milk, carrying Nuts purposely to Sea with them. This they learn from the Natives.

The kernel is commonly used to make broth. When the nut is dry, they remove the husk and give two good hits to the middle of the nut, breaking it into two equal halves and letting the water spill onto the ground. Then, using a small iron rasp designed for this, they rasp out the kernel or nut completely, which when placed in a little fresh water becomes white as milk. In this milky water, they boil a chicken or any other kind of meat, which creates very tasty broth. English sailors add this water to boiled rice, eating it instead of rice milk, and they carry the nuts with them to sea for this purpose. They learned this practice from the natives.

But the greatest use of the Kernel is to make Oyl, both for burning and for frying. The way to make the Oyl is to grate or rasp the Kernel, and steep it in fresh Water; then boil it, and scum off the Oyl at top as it rises: But the Nuts that make the Oyl ought to be a long time gathered, so as that the Kernel may be turning soft and oily.

But the best use of the Kernel is to make oil, for both burning and frying. To make the oil, you need to grate or shred the Kernel and soak it in fresh water. Then boil it and skim off the oil from the top as it rises. The nuts used to make the oil should be harvested well in advance so that the Kernel becomes soft and oily.

The Shell of this Nut is used in the East Indies for Cups, Dishes, Ladles, Spoons, and in a manner for all eating and drinking Vessels. Well shaped Nuts are often brought home to Europe, and much esteemed. The Husk of the Shell is of great use to make Cables; for the dry Husk is full of small Strings and Threads, which being beaten, become soft, and the other Substance which was mixt among it falls away like Saw-dust, leaving only the Strings. These are afterwards spun into long Yarns, and twisted up into Balls for Convenience: and many of these Rope-Yarns joined together make good Cables. This Manufactory is chiefly used at the Maldive-Islands, and the Threads sent in Balls into all places [253]that trade thither, purposely for to make Cables. I made a Cable at Achin with some of it. These are called Coire Cables; they will last very well. But there is another sort of Coire Cables (as they are called) that are black, and more strong and lasting; and are made of Strings that grow, like Horse-hair, at the heads of certain Trees, almost like the Coco-nut Tree. This sort comes most from the Island Timor. In the South Seas the Spaniards do make Oakam to chalk their Ships, with the Husk of the Coco-nut, which is more serviceable than that made of Hemp, and they say it will never rot. I have been told by Captain Knox,6 who wrote the Relation of Ceylon, that in some places of India they make a sort of course Cloth of the Husk of the Coco-nut, which is used for Sails. I my self have seen a sort of course Sail-cloth made of such a kind of substance; but whether the same or no I know not.

The shell of this nut is used in the East Indies for cups, dishes, ladles, spoons, and basically for all kinds of eating and drinking vessels. Well-shaped nuts are often brought back to Europe and are highly valued. The husk of the shell is very useful for making cables; the dry husk is full of small strings and threads that, when beaten, become soft, and the other material mixed in with it falls away like sawdust, leaving only the strings. These are then spun into long yarns and twisted into balls for convenience. Many of these rope yarns joined together make strong cables. This process is mainly carried out at the Maldive Islands, and the threads are sent in balls to all places [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] that trade there specifically for making cables. I made a cable at Achin using some of it. These are called Coire cables; they last quite well. However, there’s another kind of Coire cables (as they are called) that are black, stronger, and longer-lasting; they’re made from strings that grow, like horse hair, at the tops of certain trees, almost like the coconut tree. This type comes mainly from the island Timor. In the South Seas, the Spaniards make ocum to chalk their ships with the husk of the coconut, which is more effective than that made from hemp, and they say it will never rot. I’ve been told by Captain Knox, 6 who wrote about Ceylon, that in some parts of India, they make a kind of rough cloth from the husk of the coconut, which is used for sails. I have seen a kind of rough sailcloth made from such material, but whether it was the same, I’m not sure.

I have been the longer on this subject, to give the Reader a particular Account of the use and profit of a Vegetable, which is possibly of all others the most generally serviceable to the conveniences, as well as the necessities of humane Life. Yet this Tree, that is of such great use, and esteemed so much in the East Indies, is scarce regarded in the West [254]Indies, for want of the knowledge of the benefit which it may produce. And ’tis partly for the sake of my Country-men, in our American Plantations, that I have spoken so largely of it. For the hot Climates there are a very proper soil for it: and indeed it is so hardy, both in the raising it, and when grown, that it will thrive as well in dry sandy ground as in rich land. I have found them growing very well in low sandy Islands (on the West of Sumatra) that are overflowed with the Sea every Spring-tide; and though the Nuts there are not very big, yet this is no loss, for the Kernel is thick and sweet; and the Milk, or Water in the inside, is more pleasant and sweet than that of the Nuts that grow in rich ground, which are commonly large indeed, but not very sweet. These at Guam grow in dry ground, are of a middle size, and I think the sweetest that I did ever taste. Thus much for the Coco-nut.

I’ve taken some time to discuss a particular vegetable that might be the most useful for both the comforts and needs of human life. However, this tree, which is highly valued in the East Indies, is hardly recognized in the West [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Indies due to a lack of understanding about its benefits. I've shared so much about it mostly for my fellow countrymen in our American plantations because the hot climates there are ideal for it. It’s quite resilient, thriving in both dry sandy soil and rich land. I’ve seen it grow well on low sandy islands (to the west of Sumatra) that get flooded by the sea every spring tide. Although the nuts there aren’t very big, that’s not a downside because the kernel is thick and sweet, and the milk or water inside is more enjoyable and sweeter than that of the larger nuts grown in richer soil, which aren’t very sweet. The ones from Guam grow in dry ground, are medium-sized, and are the sweetest I’ve ever tasted. That’s it for the coconut.

The Lime is a sort of bastard or Crab Limon, The Tree, or Bush that bears it, is prickly, like a Thorn, growing full of small boughs. In Jamaica, and other places, they make of the Lime-Bush Fences about Gardens, or any other Inclosure, by planting the seeds close together, which growing up thick, spread abroad, and make a very good Hedge. The Fruit is like a Limon, but a smaller; the rind thin, and the inclosed substance full of Juice. The Juice is very tart, yet of a pleasant taste sweetened with Sugar. It is chiefly used for making Punch, both in the East and West Indies, as well ashoar as at Sea, and much of it is for that purpose yearly brought home to England, from our West India Plantations. It is also used for a particular kind of Sauce, which is called Pepper-Sauce, and is made of Cod-pepper, commonly call’d Guinea-pepper, boiled in Water, [255]and then pickled with Salt, and mix’d with Lime-juice to preserve it. Limes grow plentiful in the East and West Indies, within the Tropicks.

The lime is a type of hybrid or crab lemon. The tree or bush that produces it is prickly, like a thorn, growing densely with small branches. In Jamaica and other places, they create fences around gardens or other enclosures by planting the seeds close together. As these seeds grow thickly, they spread out and form an excellent hedge. The fruit resembles a lemon but is smaller; its skin is thin, and the inner part is full of juice. The juice is very tart but has a pleasant taste when sweetened with sugar. It is mainly used to make punch, both in the East and West Indies, as well as onshore and at sea, and a lot of it is brought back to England each year from our West India plantations. It is also used for a specific kind of sauce known as pepper sauce, which is made from cod pepper, commonly called Guinea pepper, boiled in water, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] then pickled with salt and mixed with lime juice to preserve it. Limes grow abundantly in the East and West Indies, within the tropics.

The Bread-fruit (as we call it) grows on a large Tree, as big and high as our largest Apple-Trees. It hath a spreading Head full of Branches, and dark Leaves. The Fruit grows on the Boughs like Apples: it is as big as a Penny-loaf, when Wheat is at five Shillings the Bushel. It is of a round shape, and hath a thick tough rind. When the Fruit is ripe, it is yellow and soft; and the taste is sweet and pleasant. The Natives of this Island use it for Bread: they gather it when full grown, while it is green and hard; then they bake it in an Oven, which scorcheth the rind and makes it black: but they scrape off the outside black crust, and there remains a tender thin crust, and the inside is soft, tender and white, like the crumb of a Penny Loaf. There is neither Seed nor Stone in the inside, but all is of a pure substance like Bread: it must be eaten new, for if it is kept above 24 hours, it becomes dry, and eats harsh and choaky; but ’tis very pleasant before it is too stale. This Fruit lasts in season 8 Months in the Year; during which time the Natives eat no other sort of food of Bread-kind. I did never see of this Fruit any where but here. The Natives told us, that there is plenty of this Fruit growing on the rest of the Ladrone Islands; and I did never hear of any of it any where else.

The breadfruit (as we call it) grows on a large tree, as big and tall as our largest apple trees. It has a wide canopy full of branches and dark leaves. The fruit grows on the branches like apples: it’s about the size of a small loaf of bread when wheat is five shillings per bushel. It’s round and has a thick, tough skin. When the fruit is ripe, it turns yellow and soft, with a sweet and pleasant taste. The natives of this island use it as bread: they gather it when it’s fully grown but still green and hard; then they bake it in an oven, which scorches the skin and makes it black. They scrape off the blackened outer layer, leaving a tender thin crust, and the inside is soft, tender, and white, like the crumb of a small loaf. There are no seeds or stones inside; it’s all pure like bread. It must be eaten fresh, as if kept for more than 24 hours, it becomes dry and has a coarse texture; however, it’s very enjoyable before it goes stale. This fruit is in season for 8 months of the year, during which the natives eat no other kind of bread. I have only seen this fruit here. The natives told us that there’s plenty of it growing on the other Ladrone Islands, and I’ve never heard of it being found anywhere else.

They have here some Rice also: but the Island being of a dry Soil, and therefore not very proper for it, they do not sow very much. Fish is scarce about this Island; yet on the Shoal that our Bark came over there was great plenty, and the Natives commonly go thither to fish.

They also have some rice here, but since the island has dry soil, it’s not really suited for growing it, so they don’t plant much. Fish is hard to find around this island; however, there was a lot on the shoal we passed over, and the locals usually go there to fish.

Inhabitants of the Ladrones Islands; from T. de Bry’s Peregrinationes, (Amsterdame, 1602)

Inhabitants of the Ladrones Islands; from T. de Bry’s Peregrinationes, (Amsterdame, 1602)

Inhabitants of the Ladrones Islands; from T. de Bry’s Peregrinationes, (Amsterdam, 1602)

[From copy in Boston Public Library]

[From copy in Boston Public Library]

[256]

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The Natives of this Island are strong bodied, large limb’d, and well-shap’d. They are Copper-coloured, like other Indians: their Hair is black and long, their Eyes meanly proportioned; they have pretty high Noses; their Lips are pretty full, and their Teeth indifferent white. They are long visaged, and stern of Countenance; yet we found them to be affable and Courteous. They are many of them troubled with a kind of Leprosie. This distemper is very common at Mindanao: therefore I shall speak more of it in my next Chapter. They of Guam are otherwise very healthy, especially in the dry season: but in the wet season, which comes in in June, and holds till October, the Air is more thick and unwholsome; which occasions Fevers: but the Rains are not violent nor lasting. For the Island lies so far Westerly from the Phillipine Islands, or any other Land, that the Westerly Winds do seldom blow so far; and when they do, they do not last long: but the Easterly Winds do constantly blow here, which are dry and healthy; and this Island is found to be very healthful, as we were informed while we lay by it. The Natives are very ingenious beyond any People, in making Boats, or Proes, as they are called in the East Indies, and therein they take great delight. These are built sharp at both ends; the bottom is of one piece, made like the bottom of a little Canoa, very neatly dug, and left of a good substance. This bottom part is instead of a Keel. It is about 26 or 28 foot long; the under part of this Keel is made round, but inclining to a wedge, and smooth; and the upper part is almost flat, having a very gentle hollow, and is about a foot broad: From hence both sides of the Boat are carried up to about 5 foot high with narrow [259]Plank, not above 4 or 5 inches broad, and each end of the Boat turns up round, very prettily. But what is very singular, one side of the Boat is made perpendicular, like a Wall, while the other side is rounding, made as other Vessels are, with a pretty full belly. Just in the middle it is about 4 or 5 foot broad aloft, or more, according to the length of the Boat. The Mast stands exactly in the middle, with a long Yard that peeps up and down like a Mizen-yard. One end of it reacheth down to the end or head of the Boat, where it is placed in a notch, that is made there purposely to receive it, and keep it fast. The other end hangs over the Stern: To this Yard the Sail is fastened. At the foot of the Sail there is another small Yard, to keep the Sail out square, and to roll up the Sail on when it blows hard; for it serves instead of a Reef to take up the Sail to what degree they please, according to the strength of the Wind. Along the Belly-side of the Boat, parallel with it, at about 6 or 7 foot distance, lies another small Boat, or Canoa, being a Log of very light Wood, almost as long as the great Boat, but not so wide, being not above a foot and an half wide at the upper part, and very sharp like a Wedge at each end. And there are two Bamboas of about 8 or 10 foot long, and as big as ones Leg, placed over the great Boats side, one near each end of it, and reaching about 6 or 7 foot from the side of the Boat: By the help of which, the little Boat is made firm and contiguous to the other. These are generally called by the Dutch, and by the English from them, Outlayers.7 The use of them is to keep the great Boat upright [260]from over-setting; because the Wind here being in a manner constantly East, (or if it would be at West it would be the same thing) and the Range of these Islands, where their business lies to and fro, being mostly North and South, they turn the flat side of the Boat against the Wind, upon which they sail, and the Belly-side, consequently, with its little Boat, is upon the Lee: And the Vessel having a Head at each end, so as to sail with either of them foremost (indifferently) they need not tack, or go about, as all our Vessels do, but each end of the Boat serves either for Head or Stern as they please. When they ply to Windward, and are minded to go about, he that Steers bears away a little from the Wind, by which means the Stern comes to the Wind; which is now become the Head, only by shifting the end of the Yard. This Boat is steered with a broad Paddle, instead of a Rudder. I have been the more particular in describing these Boats, because I do believe, they sail the best of any Boats in the World. I did here for my own satisfaction, try the swiftness of one of them; sailing by our Log, we had 12 Knots on our Reel, and she run it all out before the half Minute-Glass was half out; which, if it had been no more, is after the rate of 12 Mile an Hour; but I do believe she would have run 24 Mile an Hour. It was very pleasant to see the little Boat running along so swift by the others side.

The natives of this island are strong, tall, and well-shaped. They have copper-colored skin, like other Indians; their hair is long and black, and their eyes are average-sized; they have slightly prominent noses, full lips, and their teeth are fairly white. They have long faces and a serious expression, but we found them to be friendly and polite. Many of them suffer from a kind of leprosy, which is quite common in Mindanao; I will talk more about it in my next chapter. The people of Guam are generally very healthy, especially during the dry season. However, during the wet season, which lasts from June to October, the air becomes thick and unhealthy, leading to fevers, though the rain isn't heavy or lasting. The island is far enough west of the Philippine Islands, or any nearby land, so the west winds hardly reach here, and even when they do, they don’t last long. The easterly winds consistently blow in this area, and they are dry and healthy; this island is known to be very healthful, as we were informed while we were near it. The natives are skilled at building boats, or proas as they are called in the East Indies, and they take great pleasure in this. These boats have sharp ends, and the bottom is crafted from a single piece, shaped like a small canoe, made very neatly and strong. This bottom part serves as a keel. It is about 26 or 28 feet long; the underside of this keel is rounded but tapers into a wedge shape, smooth to the touch, while the upper side is almost flat with a gentle curve and about a foot wide. From there, both sides of the boat rise about 5 feet high with narrow planks, no more than 4 or 5 inches wide, and each end turns up nicely. What’s really unique is that one side of the boat is straight up like a wall, while the other side has a rounded shape with a fuller belly. In the middle, it is about 4 or 5 feet wide at the top, depending on the length of the boat. The mast stands exactly in the middle and has a long yard that sticks up and down like a mizzen yard. One end reaches down to the front of the boat, where it is fitted into a notch made specifically to hold it securely. The other end extends over the back. The sail is attached to this yard. At the bottom of the sail, there is another small yard to keep the sail squared out and to roll it up when it gets windy, functioning like a reef to adjust the sail based on wind strength. Along the belly side of the boat, parallel to it, there is another smaller boat or canoe made from a lightweight log, almost as long as the larger boat but only about a foot and a half wide at the top, tapering to a wedge shape at both ends. There are also two bamboo poles about 8 to 10 feet long and the size of a leg, placed on either side of the large boat, extending about 6 or 7 feet out. These help keep the smaller boat steady and close to the larger one. The Dutch and the English refer to these collectively as "Outlayers." Their purpose is to keep the large boat from tipping over; since the wind is almost always coming from the east (or would be the same if it came from the west), and the islands run mostly north and south where they do their business, they position the flat side of the boat against the wind, sailing that way, while the belly side, along with the little boat, is on the lee side. The vessel has a head at each end, allowing it to sail with either one in front, so they don't have to tack like our vessels do; either end can serve as the front or back as needed. When they want to sail into the wind and turn around, the person steering veers slightly away from the wind, which causes the back to face the wind, now acting as the front, simply by shifting the yard. This boat is steered using a broad paddle instead of a rudder. I went into detail describing these boats because I believe they are the best sailing boats in the world. For my own curiosity, I tested the speed of one; while sailing alongside our log, we reached 12 knots on our reel, and it completed the task before half of the minute glass had run out, which if nothing changed, equates to 12 miles an hour; however, I believe it could have reached 24 miles an hour. It was delightful to see the little boat racing alongside the larger one.

The Native Indians are no less dextrous in managing, than in building these Boats. By report, they will go from hence to another of the Ladrone Islands [261]about 30 Leagues off, and there do their Business, and return again in less than 12 Hours. I was told that one of these Boats was sent Express to Manila, which is above 400 Leagues, and performed the Voyage in 4 Days time. There are of these Proes or Boats used in many places of the East Indies, but with a Belly and a little Boat on each side. Only at Mindanao I saw one like these, with the Belly and a little Boat only on one side, and the other flat, but not so neatly built.

The Native Indians are just as skilled in handling as they are in constructing these boats. According to reports, they can travel from here to another of the Ladrone Islands [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] about 30 leagues away, conduct their business, and return in less than 12 hours. I was told that one of these boats was sent directly to Manila, which is over 400 leagues away, and made the trip in 4 days. These proas or boats are used in many areas of the East Indies, but they typically have a hull and a smaller boat on each side. However, in Mindanao, I saw one like these with the hull and a small boat only on one side, while the other side was flat, though it wasn't as well built.

The Indians of Guam have neat little Houses, very handsomly thatch’d with Palmeto-thatch. They inhabit together in Villages built by the Sea, on the West-side, and have Spanish Priests to instruct them in the Christian Religion.

The Indians of Guam have tidy little houses, nicely thatched with palm leaves. They live together in villages by the sea on the west side and have Spanish priests to teach them about Christianity.

The Spaniards have a small Fort on the West side, near the South end, with six Guns in it. There is a Governour and 20 or 30 Spanish Soldiers. There are no more Spaniards on this Island, besides 2 or 3 Priests. Not long before we arrived here, the Natives rose on the Spaniards to destroy them, and did kill many: But the Governour with his Soldiers at length prevailed, and drove them out of the Fort: So when they found themselves disappointed of their intent, they destroyed the Plantations and Stock, and then went away to other Islands: There were then 3 or 400 Indians on this Island; but now there are not above 100; for all that were in this Conspiracy went away.8 As for these who yet remain, if they [262]were not actually concerned in that broil, yet their Hearts also are bent against the Spaniards: for they offered to carry us to the Fort, and assist us in the Conquest of the Island; but C. Swan was not for molesting the Spaniards here.

The Spaniards have a small fort on the west side, near the south end, with six cannons. There’s a governor and 20 or 30 Spanish soldiers. There aren’t many more Spaniards on this island, just 2 or 3 priests. Not long before we got here, the natives rose up against the Spaniards to wipe them out and killed many. But the governor and his soldiers eventually won and drove them out of the fort. Once the natives realized they wouldn’t succeed, they destroyed the plantations and livestock, then left for other islands. At that time, there were about 300 to 400 Indians on this island; now there are only about 100 left, as all those involved in that uprising have left. 8 As for those who remain, even if they weren’t directly involved in that conflict, their hearts are still against the Spaniards: they offered to take us to the fort and help us conquer the island, but C. Swan didn’t want to disturb the Spaniards here.

Before we came to an Anchor here, one of the Priests came aboard in the Night, with 3 Indians. They first hailed us to know from whence we came, and what we were: To whom answer was made in Spanish, that we were Spaniards, and that we came from Acapulco. It being dark they could not see the make of our Ship, nor very well discern what we were: Therefore we came aboard; but perceiving the mistake they were in, in taking us for a Spanish Ship, they endeavoured to get from us again, but we held their Boat fast, and made them come in. Capt. Swan received the Priest with much Civility, and conducting him into the Great Cabbin, declared, That the reason of our coming to this Island was want of Provis[i]on, and that he came not in any hostile manner, but as a Friend to purchase with his Money what he wanted: And therefore desired the Priest to write a Letter to the Governour, to inform him what we were, and on what account we came. For having him now aboard, the Captain was willing to detain him as an Hostage, till we had Provision. The Padre told Captain Swan, that Provision was now scarce on the Island; but he would [263]engage, that the Governour would do his utmost to furnish us.

Before we anchored here, one of the priests boarded our ship at night with three Indians. They first called out to us to find out where we came from and who we were. We replied in Spanish that we were Spaniards from Acapulco. Since it was dark, they couldn’t see our ship clearly or tell exactly who we were. So we let them come on board, but realizing their mistake in thinking we were a Spanish ship, they tried to leave. However, we held their boat in place and insisted they come in. Captain Swan welcomed the priest warmly, taking him into the main cabin, and explained that we had come to the island because we needed supplies and that he wasn’t here in a hostile way, but as a friend looking to buy what he needed. He asked the priest to write a letter to the governor to explain who we were and why we were here. With the priest on board, the captain intended to keep him as a hostage until we got our supplies. The Padre informed Captain Swan that supplies were currently scarce on the island, but he would [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]guarantee that the governor would do everything possible to help us.

In the Morning the Indians, in whose Boat or Proe the Frier came aboard, were sent to the Governour with two Letters; one from the Frier, and another very obliging one from Captain Swan, and a Present of four Yards of Scarlet-cloath, and a piece of broad Silver and Gold Lace. The Governour lives near the South end of the Island on the West side; which was about 5 Leagues from the place where we were; therefore we did not expect an answer till the Evening, not knowing then how nimble they were. Therefore when the Indian Canoa was dispatched away to the Governour, we hoised out 2 of our Canoas, and sent one a fishing, and the other ashore for Coco-nuts. Our fishing Canoa got nothing; but the Men that went ashore for Coco-nuts came off laden.

In the morning, the Indians, whose boat the Friar came aboard, were sent to the Governor with two letters—one from the Friar and another very friendly one from Captain Swan—along with a gift of four yards of scarlet cloth and a piece of broad silver and gold lace. The Governor lives near the southern end of the island on the west side, which was about five leagues from where we were, so we didn't expect a reply until the evening, not knowing how quickly they could respond. When the Indian canoe was sent off to the Governor, we launched two of our canoes, sending one out to fish and the other to the shore for coconuts. Our fishing canoe didn't catch anything, but the men who went ashore for coconuts returned with plenty.

About 11 a Clock, that same Morning, the Governour of the Island sent a Letter to Captain Swan, complimenting him for his Present, and promising to support us with as much Provision, as he could possibly spare; and as a token of his Gratitude, he sent a Present of 6 Hogs, of a small sort, most excellent Meat, the best I think, that ever I eat: They are fed with Coco-nuts, and their Flesh is hard as Brisket Beef. They were doubtless of that breed in America which came originally from Spain. He sent also 12 Musk-melons, larger than ours in England, and as many Water-melons, both sorts here being a very excellent Fruit; and sent an order to the Indians that lived in a Village not far from our Ship, to bake every day as much of the Bread-fruit as we did desire, and to assist us in getting as many dry [264]Coco-nuts as we would have; which they accordingly did, and brought off the Bread-Fruit every day hot, as much as we could eat. After this the Governour sent every day a Canoa or two with Hogs and Fruit, and desired for the same, Powder, Shot, and Arms; which was sent according to his request. We had a delicate large English Dog; which the Governour did desire, and had it given him very freely by the Captain, though much against the grain of many of his Men, who had a great value for that Dog. Captain Swan endeavoured to get this Governour’s Letter of Recommendation to some Merchants at Manila, for he had then a design to go to Fort St. George,9 and from thence intended to trade to Manila: but this his design was concealed from the company. While we lay here, the Acapulco Ship10 arrived in sight of the Island, but did not come in the sight of us; for the Governour sent an Indian Proe, with advice of our being here. Therefore she stood off to the Southward of the Island, and coming foul of the same shole that our Bark had run over before, was in great danger of being lost there, for she struck off her Rudder, and with much ado got clear; but not till after three days labour For tho’ the shole be so near the Island, and the Indians go off and fish there every day, yet the Master of the Acapulco Ship, who should (one would think) know these Parts, was utterly ignorant of it. This their [265]striking on the shole we heard afterward, when we were on the Coast of Manila; but these Indians of Guam did speak of her being in sight of the Island while we lay there, which put our Men in a great heat to go out after her, but Captain Swan perswaded them out of that humour, for he was now wholly averse to any hostile action.

About 11 AM that same morning, the Governor of the island sent a letter to Captain Swan, thanking him for his gift and promising to provide us with as much food as he could spare. As a gesture of his appreciation, he sent a gift of 6 small pigs, which had the best meat I've ever tasted. They are fed with coconuts, and their flesh is as firm as brisket. They're definitely of the breed from America that originally came from Spain. He also sent 12 musk melons, larger than those in England, and an equal number of watermelons, both of which are excellent fruits here. He instructed the Indians living in a village not far from our ship to bake as much breadfruit as we wanted each day and to help us collect as many dry [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]coconuts as we needed; they did just that, bringing us hot breadfruit every day in plenty. After this, the Governor sent a canoe or two every day with pigs and fruit, and in return, he requested powder, shot, and arms, which we sent as he asked. We had a lovely large English dog that the Governor wanted, and the Captain generously gave it to him, even though many of his men were very attached to that dog. Captain Swan tried to get the Governor’s letter of recommendation for some merchants at Manila, as he then planned to go to Fort St. George,9 and from there to trade at Manila: but this plan was kept secret from the crew. While we were there, the Acapulco ship10 came into view near the island but didn’t come close to us; the Governor sent an Indian boat with news of our presence. So, the ship sailed south of the island and ran into the same shoal that our bark had encountered earlier, putting her in serious danger of sinking. She lost her rudder and barely managed to get free after three days of struggle. Although the shoal is so close to the island and the Indians fish there every day, the captain of the Acapulco ship, who one would think should know the area, was completely unaware of it. We later heard about their incident with the shoal when we were off the coast of Manila; the Indians of Guam mentioned that the ship was seen near the island while we were there, which got our men excited to go after her, but Captain Swan talked them out of that idea since he was now completely against any aggressive action.

The 30th day of May, the Governor sent his last Present, which was some Hogs, a Jar of pickled Mangoes, a Jar of excellent pickled Fish, and a Jar of fine Rusk, or Bread of fine Wheat Flower, baked like Bisket, but not so hard. He sent besides, 6 or 7 packs of Rice, desiring to be excused from sending any more Provision to us, saying he had no more on the Island that he could spare. He sent word also that the West Monsoon was at hand, that therefore it behooved us to be jogging from hence, unless we were resolved to return back to America again. Captain Swan returned him thanks for his kindness and advice, and took his leave; and the same day sent the Frier ashoar, that was seized on at our first arrival, and gave him a large Brass Clock, an Astrolable, and a large Telescope: for which Present the Frier sent us aboard six Hogs, and a Roasting Pig, 3 or 4 Bushels of Potatoes, and 50 pound of Manila Tobacco. Then we prepared to be gone, being pretty well furnished with Provision to carry us to Mindanao, where we designed next to touch. We took aboard us as many Coco-nuts as we could well stow, and we had a good stock of Rice, and about 50 Hogs in Salt. [266]

On the 30th of May, the Governor sent his final gifts, which included some pigs, a jar of pickled mangoes, a jar of excellent pickled fish, and a jar of fine rusks, or bread made from fine wheat flour, baked like biscuits but not as hard. He also sent 6 or 7 packs of rice, requesting to be excused from sending any more provisions, stating that he had none left on the island to spare. He warned that the West Monsoon was approaching, so it would be wise for us to leave unless we intended to return to America. Captain Swan thanked him for his kindness and advice before taking his leave. On the same day, he sent the friar ashore who had been captured upon our arrival, and gave him a large brass clock, an astrolabe, and a large telescope. In return, the friar sent us back six pigs, a roasting pig, 3 or 4 bushels of potatoes, and 50 pounds of Manila tobacco. We then prepared to leave, well stocked with provisions for our journey to Mindanao, our next planned stop. We loaded as many coconuts as we could fit, and we had a good supply of rice and about 50 pigs in salt. . [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

CHAP. XI

They resolve to go to Mindanao. Their departure from Guam. Of the Philippine Islands. The Isle Luconia, and its chief Town and Port, Manilo, Manila, or Manilbo. Of the rich Trade we might establish with these Islands. St. John’s Island. They arrive at Mindanao. The Island described. Its Fertility. The Libby Trees, and the Sago made of them. The Plantain Tree, Fruit, Liquor, and Cloath. A smaller Plantain at Mindanao. The Bonano. Of the Clove bark, Cloves, and Nutmegs, and the Methods taken by the Dutch to Monopolize the Spices. The Betel-Nut, and Arek-Tree. The Durian, and the Jaca-Tree and Fruit. The Beasts of Mindanao, Centapees or Forty Legs, a venemous Insect, and others. Their Fowls, Fish, &c. The temperature of the Climate, with the Course of the Winds, Tornadoes, Rain, and temper of the Air throughout the Year.

They decide to head to Mindanao. Leaving Guam. About the Philippine Islands. The Isle of Luconia, with its main city and port, Manilo, Manila, or Manilbo. About the lucrative trade we could establish with these Islands. St. John’s Island. They reach Mindanao. The island is described. Its fertility. The Libby Trees, and the Sago made from them. The Plantain Tree, its fruit, liquor, and cloth. There’s a smaller Plantain in Mindanao. The Bonano. About the clove bark, cloves, and nutmegs, and the methods used by the Dutch to monopolize the spices. The Betel-Nut, and Arek-Tree. The Durian, and the Jaca-Tree and its fruit. The animals of Mindanao, Centipedes or Forty Legs, a venomous insect, and others. Their birds, fish, & etc. The climate conditions, along with the wind patterns, tornadoes, rain, and the weather throughout the year.

While we lay at Guam, we took up a Resolution of going to Mindanao, one of the Philippine Islands, being told by the Frier, and others, that it was exceedingly well stored with Provisions; that the Natives were Mahometans, and that they had formerly a Commerce with the Spaniards, but that now they were at Wars with them. This Island was therefore thought to be a convenient place for us to go to; for besides that, it was in our way to the East Indies, which we had resolved to visit; and that the Westerly Monsoon was at hand, which would oblige us to shelter somewhere in a short time, and that we could not expect good Harbours in a better place than in so large an Island as Mindanao: besides all this, I [267]say, the Inhabitants of Mindanao being then, as we were told, (tho’ falsly) at Wars with the Spaniards, our Men, who it should seem were very squeamish of plundering without Licence, derived hopes from thence of getting a Commission there from the Prince of the Island, to plunder the Spanish Ships about Manila, and so to make Mindanao their common Rendezvous. And if Captain Swan was minded to go to an English Port, yet his Men who thought he intended to leave them, hoped to get Vessels and Pilots at Mindanao fit for their turn, to cruize on the Coast of Manila. As for Captain Swan he was willing enough to go thither, as best suiting his own design; and therefore this Voyage was concluded on by general consent.

While we were in Guam, we decided to head to Mindanao, one of the Philippine Islands, after being informed by the friar and others that it was very well stocked with supplies. They said the locals were Muslims and that they had previously traded with the Spanish, but now they were at war with them. This island seemed like a good option for us because it was on our way to the East Indies, which we planned to visit, and the westerly monsoon was approaching, forcing us to find shelter soon. We also figured we couldn't find better harbors than in such a large island like Mindanao. Additionally, I [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]heard that the inhabitants of Mindanao, as we were told (though incorrectly), were at war with the Spanish. Our crew, who seemed quite hesitant to plunder without permission, saw this as a chance to get a commission from the island's prince to raid Spanish ships around Manila and make Mindanao their main base. Even if Captain Swan was thinking about going to an English port, his men believed he intended to leave them, so they hoped to find ships and guides in Mindanao suitable for cruising along the Manila coast. Captain Swan was also eager to go there, as it aligned with his own plans, so this voyage was agreed upon by everyone.

Accordingly, June 2d, 1686, we left Guam, bound for Mindanao. We had fair Weather, and a pretty smart gale of Wind at East, for 3 or 4 Days, and then it shifted to the S.W. being Rainy, but it soon came about again to the East, and blew a gentle gale; yet it often shuffled about to the S.E. For though in the East Indies the Winds shift in April, yet we found this to the shifting season for the Winds here; the other shifting season being in October, sooner or later, all over India. As to our Course from Guam to the Philippine Islands, we found it (as I intimated before) agreeable enough with the account of our common Draughts.

Accordingly, June 2, 1686, we left Guam, heading for Mindanao. The weather was good, and we had a strong east wind for 3 or 4 days, then it shifted to the southwest and got rainy, but it soon returned to the east and blew gently; still, it frequently shifted to the southeast. Although in the East Indies the winds change in April, we found that this was shifting season for the winds here; the other shifting season happens in October, more or less, throughout India. Regarding our route from Guam to the Philippine Islands, we found it (as I mentioned before) to be quite consistent with our usual charts.

The 21st of June we arrived at the Island St. John,11 which is one of the Philippine Islands. The Philippines are a great company of large Islands, taking up about 13 deg. of Lat. in length, reaching [268]near upon, from 5 d. of North Lat. to the 19th degree, and in breadth about 6 deg. of Longitude. They derive this Name from Philip II. King of Spain; and even now they do most of them belong to that Crown.

On the 21st of June, we arrived at the island of St. John, 11, which is one of the Philippine Islands. The Philippines consist of many large islands that span about 13 degrees of latitude in length, from 5 degrees North latitude to the 19th degree, and about 6 degrees of longitude in width. They are named after Philip II, King of Spain, and still, most of them belong to that crown.

The chiefest Island in this range is Luconia, which lies on the North of them all. At this Island Magellan died on the Voyage that he was making round the World.12 For after he had past those Streights between the South end of America and Terre del Fuego, which now bear his Name, and had ranged down in the South Seas on the back of America; from thence stretching over to the East-Indies, he fell in with the Ladrone Islands, and from thence steering East still, he fell in with these Philippine Islands, and anchored at Luconia; where he warr’d with the Native Indians, to bring them in Obedience to his Master the King of Spain, and was by them kill’d with a Poysoned Arrow. It is now wholly under the Spaniards, who have several Towns there. The chief is Manilo, which is a large Sea-port Town near the S.E. [sic] end, opposite to the Island Mindora. It was a place of great Strength and Trade: The two great Acapulco Ships before mentioned fetching from hence all sorts of East-India Commodities; which are brought hither by Foreigners, especially by the Chinese and the Portuguese. Sometimes the English Merchants of Fort St. George send their Ships hither as it were by stealth, under the charge of Portuguese Pilots and Mariners: For as yet we cannot get the Spaniards there to a Commerce with us or the Dutch, although they have but few Ships [269]of their own. This seems to arise from a Jealousie or Fear of discovering the Riches of these Islands, for most, if not all the Philippine Islands, are rich in Gold; And the Spaniards have no place of much strength in all these Islands that I could ever hear of, besides Manilo it self. Yet they have Villages and Towns on several of the Islands, and Padres or Priests to instruct the Native Indians, from whom they get their Gold.

The main island in this group is Luconia, which is located to the north of all the others. It was here that Magellan died during his journey around the world.12 After he passed through the straits between the southern tip of America and Terre del Fuego, now named after him, and sailed down in the South Seas along the back of America; from there, he stretched over to the East Indies, encountered the Ladrone Islands, and then continued east, arriving at the Philippine Islands. He anchored at Luconia, where he fought with the native Indians to bring them under the control of his master, the King of Spain, and was killed by them with a poisoned arrow. It is now completely under the control of the Spaniards, who have several towns there. The main one is Manilo, a large seaport town near the southeast end, across from the island of Mindora. It was a place of great strength and trade: the two prominent Acapulco ships previously mentioned brought all kinds of East-India goods from here, which are brought by foreigners, especially the Chinese and the Portuguese. Occasionally, English merchants from Fort St. George send their ships here secretly, under the guidance of Portuguese pilots and sailors: As of now, we still can't establish trading relations with the Spaniards there, or with the Dutch, even though they have very few ships of their own [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]. This appears to stem from jealousy or fear of revealing the riches of these islands, as most, if not all, of the Philippine Islands are wealthy in gold; and the Spaniards don’t have many strongholds in all these islands that I've ever heard of, aside from Manilo itself. However, they have villages and towns on several of the islands, along with priests or padres to educate the native Indians, from whom they obtain their gold.

The Spanish inhabitants, of the smaller Islands especially, would willingly trade with us if the Government was not so severe against it: for they have no Goods but what are brought from Manilo at an extraordinary dear rate. I am of the Opinion, That if any of our Nations would seek a Trade with them, they would not lose their labour; for the Spaniards can and will Smuggle (as our Seamen call Trading by stealth) as well as any Nation that I know; and our Jamaicans are to their profit sensible enough of it. And I have been informed that Captain Goodlud of London, in a Voyage which he made from Mindanao to China, touch’d at some of these Islands, and was civilly treated by the Spaniards, who bought some of his Commodities, giving him a very good Price for the same.

The Spanish inhabitants, especially those from the smaller islands, would gladly trade with us if the government weren't so strict about it. They rely on goods that come from Manilo at an extremely high price. I believe that if any of our nations pursued trade with them, they wouldn't waste their efforts; the Spaniards can and will smuggle (as our sailors call trading secretly) just like any other nation I know, and our Jamaicans are well aware of that profit. I've heard that Captain Goodlud from London, during a trip from Mindanao to China, stopped at some of these islands and was treated kindly by the Spaniards, who purchased some of his goods, offering him a very good price for them.

There are about 12 or 14 more large Islands lying to the Southward of Luconia; most of which as I said before, are inhabited by the Spaniards. Besides these there are an infinite number of small Islands of no account, and even the great Islands, many of them, are without Names; or at least so variously set down, that I find the same Islands named by divers Names.

There are about 12 or 14 more large islands to the south of Luconia; most of them, as I mentioned earlier, are inhabited by the Spaniards. In addition to these, there are countless small islands that aren’t significant, and even many of the larger islands don’t have names; or at least they are listed with so many different names that I find the same islands called by various names.

The Island St. John and Mindanao are the [270]Southermost of all these Islands, and are the only Islands in all this Range that are not subject to the Spaniards.

The islands St. John and Mindanao are the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]southernmost of all these islands and are the only islands in this range that are not controlled by the Spaniards.

St. John’s Island is on the East-side of the Mindanao, and distant from it 3 or 4 Leagues. It is in lat. about 7 or 8 North. This Island is in length about 38 Leagues, stretching N.N.W. and S.S.E. and it is in breadth about 24 Leagues, in the middle of the Island. The Northermost end is broader, and the Southermost is narrower: This Island is of a good heighth, and is full of many small Hills. The Land of the South-East end (where I was ashoar) is of a black fat Mould; and the whole Island seems to partake of the same fatness, by the vast number of large Trees that it produceth; for it looks all over like one great Grove.

St. John's Island is on the east side of Mindanao, about 3 to 4 leagues away from it. It's located at approximately 7 or 8 degrees north latitude. The island is about 38 leagues long, stretching from north-northwest to south-southeast, and about 24 leagues wide at its midpoint. The northern end is broader, while the southern end is narrower. This island is quite elevated and has many small hills. The land at the southeastern tip (where I landed) has rich black soil, and the entire island seems to share this fertility, as evidenced by the large number of trees it produces; it looks like one massive grove.

As we were passing by the S.E. end we saw a Canoa of the Natives under the shoar; therefore one of our Canoas went after to have spoken with her; but she run away from us, seeing themselves chaced, put their Canoa ashoar, leaving her, fled into the Woods; nor would be allured to come to us, altho’ we did what we could to entice them; besides these Men, we saw no more here, nor sign of any Inhabitants at this end. When we came aboard our Ship again, we steered away for the Island Mindanao, which was now fair in sight of us: it being about 10 leagues distant from this part of St. John’s. The 22d day we came within a league of the East-side of the Island Mindanao, and having the Wind at S.E. we steered toward the North-end, keeping on the East-side, till we came into the lat. of 7 d. 40 m. and there we anchored in a small Bay, about a Mile from the Shoar, in 10 Fathom Water, Rocky foul ground. [271]

As we were passing by the southeast end, we spotted a native canoe near the shore. One of our canoes went after them to try to talk, but they quickly took off, realizing they were being chased. They put their canoe ashore, abandoned it, and ran into the woods, refusing to be tempted to come to us, even though we tried our best to entice them. Besides these men, we didn’t see anyone else or any signs of inhabitants in this area. When we got back on our ship, we headed towards the island of Mindanao, which was now clearly visible, about 10 leagues away from this part of St. John's. On the 22nd day, we got within a league of the east side of the island Mindanao, and with the wind at southeast, we steered towards the northern end, following the east side until we reached a latitude of 7 degrees 40 minutes. There, we anchored in a small bay, about a mile from the shore, in 10 fathoms of rocky, rough ground. [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

Some of our Books gave us an account, That Mindanao City and Isle lies in 7 d. 40 m. we guest that the middle of the Island might lie in this lat. but we were at a great loss where to find the City, whether on the East or West-side. Indeed, had it been a small Island, lying open to the Eastern Wind, we might possibly have searched first on the West-side; for commonly the Islands within the Tropicks, or within the bounds of the Trade-Winds, have their Harbours on the West-side, as best sheltered; but the Island Mindanao being guarded on the East-side by St. John’s Island, we might as reasonably expect to find the Harbour and City on this side as any where else: but coming into the Lat. in which we judg’d the City might be, found no Canoas, or People, that might give us any umbrage of a City, or place of Trade near at hand, tho’ we coasted within a League of the Shoar.

Some of our books told us that Mindanao City and Island are located at 7 degrees, 40 minutes. We guessed that the center of the island might be around this latitude, but we were really unsure about where to find the city, whether it was on the east or west side. If it had been a small island that was open to the eastern wind, we might have started our search on the west side, since islands in the tropics or within the trade wind areas usually have their harbors on the west side because it’s better sheltered. However, since Mindanao is protected on the east side by St. John’s Island, we might as well have expected to find the harbor and city on this side as anywhere else. But when we reached the latitude where we thought the city might be, we didn’t see any canoes or people that could hint at a city or trade area nearby, even though we were cruising within a league of the shore.

The Island Mindanao is the biggest of all the Philippine Islands, except Luconia. It is about 60 Leagues long, and 40 or 50 broad. The South-end is about 5 d. N. and the N.W. end reacheth almost to 8 d. N. It is a very Mountainous Island, full of Hills and Valleys. The Mould in general is deep and black, and extraordinary fat and fruitful. The sides of the Hill are stony, yet productive enough of very large tall Trees. In the heart of the Country there are some Mountains that yield good Gold. The Valleys are well moistned with pleasant Brooks, and small Rivers of delicate Water; and have Trees of divers sorts flourishing and green all the Year. The Trees in general are very large, and most of them are of kinds unknown to us.

The island Mindanao is the largest of all the Philippine Islands, except for Luconia. It’s about 60 leagues long and 40 to 50 leagues wide. The southern end is around 5 degrees north, while the northwest end is nearly 8 degrees north. It’s a very mountainous island, filled with hills and valleys. The soil is generally deep and black, and exceptionally fertile and productive. The hillsides are rocky, yet produce very large, tall trees. In the center of the country, there are mountains that have good gold deposits. The valleys are well-watered with nice streams and small rivers of clear water, and they have a variety of trees that stay lush and green all year round. The trees are generally very large, and most of them are of species unfamiliar to us.

There is one sort which deserves particular notice; [272]called by the Natives Libby-Trees. These grow wild in great Groves of 5 or 6 Miles long, by the sides of the Rivers. Of these Trees Sago is made, which the poor Country People eat instead of Bread 3 or 4 Months in the Year. This Tree for its body and shape is much like the Palmeto-Tree, or the Cabbage-Tree, but not so tall as the latter. The Bark and Wood is hard and thin like a Shell, and full of white Pith, like the Pith of an Elder. This Tree they cut down, and split it in the middle, and scrape out all the Pith; which they beat lustily with a Wooden Pestle in a great Mortár or Trough, and then put it into a Cloth or Strainer held over a Trough; and pouring Water in among the Pith, they stir it about in the Cloth: So the Water carries all the substance of the Pith through the Cloth down into the Trough, leaving nothing in the Cloth but a light sort of Husk, which they throw away; but that which falls into the Trough settles in a short time to the bottom like Mud; and then they draw off the Water, and take up the muddy substance, wherewith they make Cakes; which being baked proves very good Bread.

There’s one type that deserves special attention; [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]called by the locals Libby-Trees. These grow wild in large groves that stretch 5 to 6 miles alongside the rivers. From these trees, they make sago, which the poor country people eat instead of bread for about 3 to 4 months a year. This tree resembles the Palmetto or Cabbage Tree but isn’t as tall as the latter. The bark and wood are hard and thin like a shell and filled with white pith, similar to the pith of an elder. They cut the tree down, split it in half, and scrape out all the pith. Then they vigorously pound it with a wooden pestle in a large mortar or trough and pour water into the pith while stirring it in the cloth. The water carries all the substance of the pith through the cloth and into the trough, leaving only a light husk in the cloth, which they discard. The material that falls into the trough settles quickly to the bottom like mud; then they drain off the water and take the muddy substance to make cakes, which, when baked, turn out to be very good bread.

The Mindanao People live 3 or 4 Months of the Year on this Food for their Bread kind. The Native Indians of Teranate, and Tidore, and all the Spice Islands, have plenty of these Trees, and use them for Food in the same manner; as I have been inform’d by Mr. Caril Rofy, who is now Commander of one of the King’s Ships. He was one of our Company at this time; and being left with Captain Swan at Mindanao, went afterward to Teranate, and lived there among the Dutch a Year or two. The Sago which is transported into other parts of the East [273]Indies, is dried in small pieces like little Seeds or Comfits, and commonly eaten with Milk of Almonds, by those that are troubled with the Flux; for it is a great binder, and very good in that Distemper.

The Mindanao people rely on this food for their bread for about 3 or 4 months each year. The indigenous Indians of Teranate, Tidore, and all the Spice Islands have plenty of these trees and use them for food in the same way; I've been informed by Mr. Caril Rofy, who is currently the Commander of one of the King’s Ships. He was part of our group at that time, and after staying with Captain Swan in Mindanao, he later went to Teranate and lived there among the Dutch for a year or two. The Sago that is shipped to other parts of the East [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]Indies is dried into small pieces resembling tiny seeds or candies, and people who suffer from diarrhea commonly eat it with almond milk; it works well as a binder and is very effective for that condition.

In some places of Mindanao there is plenty of Rice; but in the hilly Land they plant Yams, Potatoes and Pumkins; all which thrive very well. The other Fruits of this Island are Water-Melons, Musk-Melons, Plaintains, Bonanoes, Guavas, Nutmegs, Cloves, Betel-Nuts, Durians, Jacks, or Jacas, Coco-Nuts, Oranges, &c.

In some areas of Mindanao, there's a lot of rice, but in the hilly regions, they grow yams, potatoes, and pumpkins, all of which do really well. Other fruits from this island include watermelons, muskmelons, plantains, bananas, guavas, nutmeg, cloves, betel nuts, durians, jackfruits, coconuts, oranges, & c.

The Plantain I take to be the King of all Fruit, not except the Coco it self. The Tree that bears this Fruit is about 3 Foot, or 3 Foot and an half round, and about 10 or 12 Foot high. These Trees are not raised from Seed, (for they seem not to have any) but from the Roots of other old Trees. If these young suckers are taken out of the Ground, and planted in another place, it will be 15 Months before they bear, but if let stand in their own native Soil they will bear in 12 Months. As soon as the Fruit is ripe the Tree decays, but then there are many young ones growing up to supply its place. When this Tree first springs out of the Ground, it comes up with two Leaves; and by that time it is a Foot high, two more springs up in the inside of them; and in a short time after two more within them; and so on. By that time the Tree is a Month old, you may perceive a small body almost as big as ones Arm, and then there are eight or ten Leaves, some of them four or five Foot high. The first leaves that it shoots forth are not above a Foot long, and half a Foot broad; and the Stem that bears them no bigger than ones Finger; but as the Tree grows higher the Leaves are [274]larger. As the young Leaves spring up in the inside, so the old Leaves spread off, and their tops droop downward, being of a greater length and breadth, by how much they are nearer the Root, and at last decay and rot off; but still there are young Leaves spring up out of the top, which makes the Tree look always green and flourishing. When the Tree is full grown, the Leaves are 7 or 8 Foot long, and a Foot and half broad; towards the end they are smaller, and end with a round point. The Stem of the Leaf is as big as a Man’s Arm, almost round, and about a Foot in length, between the Leaf and the Body of the Tree. That part of the Stem which comes from the Tree, if it be the outside Leaf, seems to inclose half the Body, as it were with a thick Hide; and right against it, on the other side of the Tree, is another such answering to it. The next two Leaves, in the inside of these, grow opposite to each other, in the same manner, but so that if the two outward grow North and South, these grow East and West, and those still within them keep the same order. Thus the Body of this Tree seems to be made up of many thick Skins, growing one over another, and when it is full grown, there springs out of the top a strong Stem, harder in substance than any other part of the Body. This Stem shoots forth at the Heart of the Tree, is as big as a Man’s Arm, and as long; and the Fruit grows in clusters round it, first blossoming, and then shooting forth the Fruit. It is so excellent, that the Spaniards give it the preheminence of all other Fruit, as most conducing to Life. It grows in a Cod about 6 or 7 Inches Long, and as big as a Man’s Arm. The Shell, Rind or Cod, is soft, and of a yellow colour when ripe. It resembles in shape Hogs-gut [275]Pudding. The inclosed Fruit is no harder than Butter in Winter, and is much of the colour of the purest yellow Butter. It is of a delicate taste, and melts in ones Mouth like Marmalet. It is all pure Pulp, without any Seed, Kernel or Stone. This Fruit is so much esteemed by all Europeans that settle in America, that when they make a new Plantation they commonly begin with a good Plantain-walk, as they call it, or a field of Plantains; and as their Family encreaseth, so they augment the Plantain-walk, keeping one Man purposely to prune the Trees, and gather the Fruit as he sees convenient. For the Trees continue bearing, some or other, most part of the Year; and this is many times the whole Food on which a whole Family subsists. They thrive only in rich fat ground, for poor sandy will not bear them. The Spaniards in their Towns in America, as at Havana, Cartagena, Portabel, &c. have their Markets full of Plantains, it being the common Food for poor People; Their common Price is half a Riol, [i.e., real] 3. d. a Dozen. When this Fruit is only used for Bread, it is roasted or boil’d when it’s just full grown, but not yet ripe, or turn’d yellow. Poor People, or Negroes, that have neither Fish nor Flesh to eat with it, make Sauce with Cod-pepper, Salt and Lime-juice, which makes it eat very savory; much better than a crust of Bread alone. Sometimes for a change they eat a roasted Plantain, and a ripe raw Plantain together, which is instead of Bread and Butter. They eat very pleasant so, and I have made many a good meal in this manner. Sometimes our English take 5 or 7 ripe Plantains, and mashing them together, make them into a lump, and boil them instead of a Bag-pudding; which they call a Buff-jacket: and this [276]is a very good way for a change. This Fruit makes also very goad Tarts; and the green Plantains slic’d thin, and dried in the Sun, and grated will make a sort of Flour which is very good to make Puddings. A ripe Plantain slic’d and dried in the Sun may be preserved a great while; and then eats like Figs, very sweet and pleasant. The Darien Indians preserve them a long time, by drying them gently over the Fire; mashing them first, and moulding them into lumps. The Moskito Indians will take a ripe Plantain and roast it; then take a pint and a half of Water in a Calabash, and squeeze the Plantain in pieces with their Hands, mixing it with the Water; then they drink it all off together: This they call Mishlaw, and it’s pleasant and sweet, and nourishing; somewhat like Lambs-wool (as ’tis call’d) made with Apples and Ale; and of this Fruit alone many thousands of Indian Families in the West-Indies have their whole subsistence. When they make drink with them, they take 10 or 12 ripe Plantains and mash them well in a Trough: then they put 2 Gallons of Water among them; and this in 2 Hours time will ferment and froth like Wort. In 4 Hours it is fit to Drink; and then they Bottle it, and Drink it as they have occasion: but this will not keep above 24 or 30 Hours. Those therefore that use this Drink, Brew it in this manner every Morning. When I went first to Jamaica I could relish no other Drink they had there. It drinks brisk and cool, and is very pleasant. This Drink is windy, and so is the Fruit eaten raw; but boil’d or roasted it is not so. If this Drink is kept above 30 Hours it grows sharp: but if then it be put out into the Sun, it will become very good Vinegar. This Fruit grows all over the West Indies [277](in the proper Climates) at Guinea, and in the East-Indies.

The Plantain is what I consider the king of all fruits, even more so than the Coco itself. The tree that produces this fruit is about 3 to 3.5 feet in circumference and reaches about 10 to 12 feet high. These trees don’t grow from seeds (since they seem not to have any) but rather from the roots of older trees. If these young shoots are dug up and planted elsewhere, it takes about 15 months for them to bear fruit; however, if they remain in their native soil, they will bear fruit in just 12 months. Once the fruit is ripe, the tree starts to die, but there are many young ones that grow up to take its place. When this tree first emerges from the ground, it comes up with two leaves; and by the time it reaches a foot in height, two more shoots up inside them, and shortly after that, two more appear within those, and so on. By the time the tree is a month old, you can see a small trunk almost as thick as a person’s arm, and at that point, it has eight or ten leaves, some of which are four or five feet high. The first leaves that sprout are only about a foot long and half a foot wide; the stem that supports them is no bigger than a finger. But as the tree grows taller, the leaves become larger. As the young leaves grow in, the older leaves spread out, and their tips droop downward, getting longer and wider the closer they are to the root, eventually decaying and falling off. Yet, young leaves continue to sprout from the top, which keeps the tree looking lush and green. When the tree is fully grown, the leaves reach 7 or 8 feet long and a foot and a half wide; towards the ends, they taper off to a rounded point. The leaf stem is the size of a man's arm, nearly round, and about a foot long, connecting the leaf to the body of the tree. The part of the stem that connects to the tree, if it belongs to the outside leaf, seems to wrap around half of the trunk like a thick skin; directly opposite it on the other side of the trunk is another similar leaf. The next two leaves inside these grow opposite one another, so if the outer two grow north and south, these grow east and west, with the inner leaves following the same pattern. In this way, the trunk of the tree appears to be made up of many thick layers, stacked one on top of the other, and when it is fully grown, a strong stem emerges from the top, denser than any other part of the trunk. This stem grows from the heart of the tree, is as thick as a man’s arm, and as long as it is; and the fruit clusters around it, first blooming and then developing into fruit. It’s so excellent that the Spaniards consider it the best of all fruits for sustaining life. It grows in a pod about 6 to 7 inches long and as thick as a man's arm. The shell or pod is soft and turns a yellow color when ripe. It looks like the gut of a pig in pudding. The fruit inside is softer than butter in winter and is similar in color to the purest yellow butter. It has a delicate taste and melts in your mouth like marmalade. It consists entirely of pulp, with no seeds or stones. This fruit is so highly valued by all Europeans who settle in America that when they establish a new plantation, they typically start with a good area for plantains, or a field of plantains; as their families grow, they expand the plantain field, often assigning a person specifically to prune the trees and gather the fruit as needed. The trees bear fruit throughout much of the year, and often this is the main food source for entire families. They thrive only in rich soil since poor sandy ground doesn’t support them. The Spaniards in their towns in America, such as Havana, Cartagena, Portabel, etc., have markets filled with plantains, as they are a common food for the poor; the usual price is half a real for a dozen. When this fruit is used to make bread, it is roasted or boiled when it's well-grown but not yet ripe or yellow. Poor people or African descendants who lack fish or meat to eat with it make a sauce using chili pepper, salt, and lime juice, which makes it taste really good; much better than just a piece of bread alone. Sometimes, for variety, they eat a roasted plantain alongside a ripe, raw plantain, which serves as a substitute for bread and butter. They find it quite enjoyable, and I’ve had many satisfying meals this way. Sometimes, English settlers take 5 or 7 ripe plantains, mash them together to form a lump, and boil them instead of making a pudding, which they refer to as a "buff-jacket"; this is a good change of pace. This fruit also makes great tarts; and thinly sliced, sun-dried green plantains can be grated to create a type of flour that's excellent for making puddings. A ripe plantain, if sliced and dried in the sun, can be preserved for a long time, and it then tastes sweet and pleasant, similar to figs. The Darien Indians preserve them for long periods by drying them gently over a fire, mashing them first, and then shaping them into lumps. The Moskito Indians take a ripe plantain, roast it, then mix a pint and a half of water in a calabash, squeezing the plantain into pieces with their hands and blending it with the water; then they drink it all down. They call this "Mishlaw," and it is sweet, nourishing, and quite pleasant; somewhat like lamb's wool (as it’s called), made with apples and ale; many thousands of Indian families in the West Indies rely solely on this fruit for their sustenance. When they make a drink with them, they mash 10 or 12 ripe plantains well in a trough, then add 2 gallons of water, and this mixture will ferment and froth like wort within 2 hours. After 4 hours, it’s ready to drink, and they bottle it to consume as needed; however, it won’t keep beyond 24 or 30 hours. Therefore, those who enjoy this drink brew it fresh every morning. When I first arrived in Jamaica, I couldn’t enjoy any other drink they had. It is refreshing and cool, tasting very pleasant. This drink is gassy, and so is the raw fruit; however, when boiled or roasted, it isn’t. If this drink is kept longer than 30 hours, it becomes sour; but if exposed to sunlight afterward, it will turn into very good vinegar. This fruit is found all over the West Indies (in the right climates), in Guinea, and in the East Indies.

As the Fruit of this Tree is of great use for Food, so is the body no less serviceable to make Cloaths; but this I never knew till I came to this Island. The ordinary People of Mindanao do wear no other Cloth. The Tree never bearing but once, and so being fell’d when the Fruit is ripe, they cut it down close by the Ground, if they intend to make Cloth with it. One blow with a Hachet, or long Knife, will strike it asunder; then they cut off the top, leaving the trunk 8 or 10 foot long, stripping off the outer Rind, which is thickest towards the lower end, having stript 2 or 3 of these Rinds, the Trunk becomes in a manner all of one bigness, and of a whitish colour: Then they split the Trunk in the middle; which being done, they split the two halves again, as near the middle as they can. This they leave in the Sun 2 or 3 Days, in which time part of the juicy substance of the Tree dries away, and then the ends will appear full of small Threads. The Women whose employment it is to make the Cloth, take hold of those Threads one by one, which rend away easily from one end of the Trunk to the other, in bigness like whited brown-thread; for the threads are naturally of a determinate bigness, as I observed their Cloth to be all of one substance and equal fineness; but ’tis stubborn when new, wears out soon, and when wet, feels a little slimy. They make their pieces 7 or 8 Yards long, their Warp and Woof all one thickness and substance.

As the fruit of this tree is really useful for food, the trunk is also quite handy for making clothes; I only learned this when I arrived on this island. The common people of Mindanao wear no other type of fabric. The tree only produces fruit once, so it gets cut down when the fruit is ripe; they chop it down close to the ground if they plan to use it for cloth. A single swing with an axe or a long knife can split it open; then they cut off the top, leaving the trunk about 8 or 10 feet long, and peel off the outer bark, which is thickest at the lower end. After stripping off 2 or 3 pieces of this bark, the trunk becomes roughly uniform in size and turns a whitish color. Then they split the trunk down the middle, and after that, they split the two halves again as evenly as possible. They leave this in the sun for 2 or 3 days, during which some of the tree's moisture evaporates, and the ends reveal small threads. The women who make the cloth grab these threads one by one, which pull off easily from one end of the trunk to the other, about the size of white brown thread. The threads have a consistent size, as I noticed their cloth is all made from the same material and is evenly fine; however, it's tough when it's new, wears out quickly, and feels slightly slimy when wet. They make their pieces about 7 or 8 yards long, with the warp and weft being the same thickness and material.

There is another sort of Plantains in that Island, which are shorter and less than the others, which I never saw any where but here. These are full of [278]black Seeds mixt quite through the Fruit. They are binding, and are much eaten by those that have Fluxes. The Country People gave them us for that use, and with good success.

There’s another kind of plantains on that island, which are shorter and smaller than the others, and I’ve never seen them anywhere else. These are filled with [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]black seeds throughout the fruit. They are constipating and are commonly eaten by those who have diarrhea. The local people provided them to us for that purpose, and it worked well.

The Bonano Tree is exactly like the Plantain for shape and bigness, nor easily distinguishable from it but by its Fruit, which is a great deal smaller, and not about half so long as a Plantain, being also more mellow and soft, less luscious, yet of a more delicate taste. They use this for the making Drink oftener than Plantains, and it is best when used for Drink, or eaten as Fruit; but it is not so good for Bread, nor doth it eat well at all when roasted or boil’d; so ’tis only necessity that makes any use it this way. They grow generally where Plantains do, being set intermixt with them purposely in their Plantain-walks. They have plenty of Clove-bark, of which I saw a Ship load; and as for Cloves, Raja Laut, whom I shall have occasion to mention, told me, that if the English would settle there, they could order Matters so in a little time, as to send a Ship-load of Cloves from thence every Year. I have been informd that they grow on the Boughs of a Tree about as big as a Plumb-tree, but I never happened to see any of them.

The Bonano Tree is exactly like the Plantain in shape and size, and it's hard to tell them apart except for the fruit, which is much smaller and not nearly as long as a Plantain. The fruit is also softer, less sweet, but has a more delicate flavor. People often use it to make drinks instead of Plantains, and it’s best used for drinks or eaten as fruit; however, it’s not great for making bread and doesn't taste good when roasted or boiled, so it's only used that way out of necessity. They generally grow where Plantains do, planted together with them intentionally in their Plantain groves. There’s a lot of Clove bark, and I saw a shipload of it. As for cloves, Raja Laut, whom I’ll mention later, told me that if the English settled there, they could arrange things so that a ship could deliver a load of cloves every year. I've been told that they grow on the branches of a tree about the size of a plum tree, but I’ve never actually seen any of them.

I have not seen the Nutmeg-Trees any where; but the Nutmegs this Island produces are fair and large, yet they have no great store of them, being unwilling to propagate them or the Cloves, for fear that should invite the Dutch to visit them, and bring them into subjection, as they have done the rest of the neighboring Islands where they grow. For the Dutch being seated among the Spice-Islands, have monopolized all the Trade into their own Hands, and will not suffer any of the Natives to dispose of it, but to [279]themselves alone. Nay, they are so careful to preserve it in their own Hands, that they will not suffer the Spice to grow in the uninhabited Islands, but send Soldiers to cut the Trees down. Captain Rofy told me, that while he lived with the Dutch, he was sent with other Men to cut down the Spice-Trees; and that he himself did at several times cut down 7 or 800 Trees. Yet altho’ the Dutch take such care to destroy them, there are many uninhabited Islands that have great plenty of Spice-Trees, as I have been informed by Dutch Men that have been there, particularly by a Captain of a Dutch Ship that I met with at Achin, who told me, that near the Island Banda there is an Island where the Cloves falling from the Trees do lie and rot on the ground, and they are at the time when the Fruit falls, 3 or 4 Inches thick under the Trees. He and some others told me, that it would not be a hard matter for an English Vessel to purchase a Ships Cargo of Spice, of the Natives of some of these Spice-Islands.

I haven't seen the Nutmeg trees anywhere, but the nutmegs produced on this island are nice and large. However, there aren't many of them because the locals are reluctant to grow more or to cultivate cloves, fearing it would attract the Dutch and lead to their domination, as has happened to other nearby islands where these spices grow. The Dutch, having established themselves among the Spice Islands, have monopolized all the trade for themselves and won’t let the natives sell it, only allowing them to [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] themselves. They are so intent on keeping it in their control that they won’t allow the spice to thrive on uninhabited islands and even send soldiers to cut down the trees. Captain Rofy told me that while he was with the Dutch, he was sent along with others to cut down the spice trees, and he personally cut down 700 to 800 trees at different times. Yet, despite the Dutch's efforts to eliminate them, there are still many uninhabited islands with a lot of spice trees, as I've been informed by Dutch men who have been there. Particularly, a captain of a Dutch ship I met in Achin told me that near the island of Banda, there is an island where cloves fall from the trees and rot on the ground, with piles of them 3 or 4 inches thick under the trees when the fruit falls. He and a few others mentioned that it wouldn't be difficult for an English ship to buy a cargo of spices from the natives of some of these Spice Islands.

He was a free Merchant that told me this. For by that name the Dutch and English in the East-Indies, distinguished those Merchants who are not Servants to the Company. The free Merchants are not suffered to Trade to the Spice-Islands, nor to many other places where the Dutch have Factories; but on the other Hand, they are suffered to Trade to some places where the Dutch Company themselves may not Trade, as to Achin particularly, for there are some Princes in the Indies, who will not Trade with the Company for fear of them. The Seamen that go to the Spice-Islands are obliged to bring no Spice from thence for themselves, except a small matter for their own use, about a pound or two. Yet [280]the Masters of those Ships do commonly so order their business, that they often secure a good quantity, and send it ashoar to some place near Batavia, before they come into the Harbour, (for it is always brought thither first before it’s sent to Europe,) and if they meet any Vessel at Sea that will buy their Cloves, they will sell 10 or 15 Tuns out of 100, and yet seemingly carry their Complement to Batavia; for they will pour Water among the remaining part of their Cargo, which will swell them to that degree, that the Ships Hold will be as full again, as it was before any were sold. This Trick they use whenever they dispose of any clandestinely, for the Cloves when they first take them in are extraordinary dry; and so will imbibe a great deal of Moisture. This is but one Instance, of many hundreds, of little deceitful Arts the Dutch Sea-Men have in these Parts among them, of which I have both seen and heard several. I believe there are no where greater Thieves; and nothing will persuade them to discover one another; for should any do it, the rest would certainly knock him on the Head. But to return to the Products of Mindanao.

He was a free merchant who told me this. By that title, the Dutch and English in the East Indies distinguish merchants who are not employed by the Company. Free merchants are not allowed to trade in the Spice Islands or many other locations where the Dutch have trading posts. However, they are permitted to trade in some areas where the Dutch Company itself cannot trade, particularly Achin, because there are some rulers in the Indies who refuse to trade with the Company out of fear. Sailors going to the Spice Islands are required not to bring back any spice for themselves, except for a small quantity for personal use, about a pound or two. Yet, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] the captains of those ships usually manage their operations in such a way that they often secure a good amount and send it ashore to a location near Batavia before they enter the harbor (since it is always brought there first before being sent to Europe). If they encounter a ship at sea that will buy their cloves, they might sell 10 or 15 tons out of 100, while still appearing to deliver their full cargo to Batavia; they will pour water into the remaining part of their load to make it swell to the same level it was at before any were sold. They use this trick whenever they secretly dispose of any cloves, as the cloves are extremely dry when first taken on board and will absorb a lot of moisture. This is just one example of the many deceptive tactics the Dutch sailors employ in these areas, of which I have seen and heard several. I believe they are some of the greatest thieves around, and nothing would convince them to betray one another; if anyone did, the rest would certainly kill him. But back to the products of Mindanao.

The Betel-Nut is much esteemed here, as it is in most places of the East-Indies. The Betel-Tree grows like the Cabbage-Tree, but it is not so big, nor so high. The Body grows strait, about 12 or 14 foot high, without Leaf or Branch, except at the Head. There it spreads forth long Branches, like other Trees of the like nature, as the Cabbage-Tree, the Coco-Nut Tree, and the Palm. These Branches are about 10 or 12 foot long, and their Stems near the Head of the Tree, as big as a Man’s Arm. On the top of the Tree among the Branches the Betel-Nut [281]grows on a tough stem, as big as a Man’s Finger, in clusters much as the Coco-Nuts do, and they grow 40 or 50 in a cluster. This Fruit is bigger than a Nutmeg, and is much like it, but rounder. It is much used all over the East-Indies. Their way is to cut it in four pieces, and wrap one of them up in an Arek-leaf, which they spread with a soft Paste made of Lime or Plaster, and then chew it altogether. Every Man in these parts carries his Lime-Box by his side, and dipping his Finger into it, spreads his Betel and Arek leaf with it. The Arek is a small Tree or Shrub, of a green Bark, and the Leaf is long and broader than a Willow. They are packt up to sell into Parts that have them not, to chew with the Betel. The Betel-Nut is most esteemed when it is young, and before it grows hard, and then they cut it only in two pieces with the green Husk or Shell on it. It is then exceeding juicy, and therefore makes them spit much. It tastes rough in the Mouth, and dies the Lips red, and makes the Teeth black, but it preserves them, and cleanseth the Gums. It is also accounted very wholsom for the Stomach; but sometimes it will cause great giddiness in the Head of those that are not us’d to chew it. But this is the effect only of the old Nut, for the young Nuts will not do it. I speak of my own Experience.

The Betel Nut is highly valued here, just like it is in many parts of the East Indies. The Betel Tree grows similar to the Cabbage Tree, but it's smaller and not as tall. The trunk is straight, around 12 to 14 feet high, with no leaves or branches except at the top. There it spreads long branches, like other trees in its category, such as the Cabbage Tree, the Coconut Tree, and the Palm. These branches are about 10 to 12 feet long, and their stems, near the top of the tree, are about as thick as a man's arm. At the top of the tree, among the branches, the Betel Nut [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]grows on a tough stem, about the size of a man's finger, in clusters similar to coconuts, with 40 to 50 nuts in each cluster. This fruit is bigger than a nutmeg and resembles it, but is rounder. It’s widely used throughout the East Indies. The common practice is to cut it into four pieces, wrap one piece in an Arek leaf, which is then spread with a soft paste made from lime or plaster, and chew it all together. Everyone in these areas carries a lime box with them, dipping their fingers into it to spread the Betel and Arek leaves. The Arek is a small tree or shrub with green bark, and its leaves are long and wider than a willow's. They’re packaged for sale in areas that don’t have them, so people can chew them with the Betel. The Betel Nut is most prized when it’s young, before it hardens, and then it’s only cut in half with the green husk still on. It’s extremely juicy, which makes people spit a lot. It has a rough taste in the mouth, turns the lips red, and stains the teeth black, but it helps preserve them and cleans the gums. It’s also considered very good for the stomach; however, it can cause significant dizziness in those not accustomed to chewing it. But this effect happens only with the older nuts; young nuts don’t cause that. I’m speaking from my own experience.

This Island produceth also Durians and Jacks. The Trees that bear the Durians, are as big as Apple-Trees, full of Boughs. The Rind is thick and rough; the Fruit is so large that they grow only about the Bodies, or on the Limbs near the Body, like the Cacao. The Fruit is about the bigness of a Large Pumkin, covered with a thick green rough Rind. When it is ripe, the Rind begins to turn yellow, but it [282]is not fit to eat till it opens at the top. Then the Fruit in the inside is ripe, and sends forth an excellent Scent. When the Rind is opened, the Fruit may be split into four quarters; each quarter hath several small Cells, that inclose a certain quantity of the Fruit, according to the bigness of the Cell, for some are larger than others. The largest of the Fruit may be as big as a Pullets Egg: ’Tis as white as Milk, and as soft as Cream, and the Taste very delicious to those that are accustomed to them; but those who have not been used to eat them, will dislike them at first, because they smell like roasted Onions. This Fruit must be eaten in its prime, (for there is no eating of it before it is ripe) and even then ’twill not keep above a day or two before it putrifies, and turns black, or of a dark colour, and then it is not good. Within the Fruit there is a Stone as big as a small Bean, which hath a thin Shell over it. Those that are minded to eat the Stones or Nuts, roast them, and then a thin shell comes off, which incloses the Nut; and it eats like a Chesnut.

This island also produces durians and jackfruits. The trees that bear durians are as big as apple trees, full of branches. The rind is thick and rough; the fruits are so large that they grow only around the trunk or on the limbs close to the trunk, similar to cacao. The fruit is about the size of a large pumpkin, covered with a thick green rough rind. When it ripens, the rind starts to turn yellow, but it [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]isn't ready to eat until it opens at the top. At that point, the inside is ripe and gives off a wonderful scent. Once the rind is opened, the fruit can be split into four quarters; each quarter has several small compartments that hold a certain amount of fruit, depending on the size of the compartment, as some are larger than others. The largest fruit can be as big as a pullet's egg: it’s as white as milk, as soft as cream, and tastes very delicious to those who are used to it; however, people who haven't eaten it before may not like it at first because it smells like roasted onions. This fruit must be eaten at its peak (you can't eat it before it's ripe), and even then it won't last more than a day or two before it rots and turns black or a dark color, making it inedible. Inside the fruit, there’s a seed about the size of a small bean, which has a thin shell around it. Those who want to eat the seeds or nuts roast them, and then a thin shell comes off, revealing the nut inside, which tastes like a chestnut.

The Jack or Jaca is much like the Durian, both in bigness and shape. The Trees that bear them also are much a like, and so is the manner of the Fruits growing. But the inside is different; for the Fruit of the Durian is white, that of the Jack is yellow, and fuller of Stones. The Durian is most esteemed; yet the Jack is very pleasant Fruit, and the Stones or Kernels are good roasted.

The Jack or Jaca is similar to the Durian in both size and shape. The trees that produce them are also quite alike, as is the way the fruit grows. However, the inside is different; the flesh of the Durian is white, while the flesh of the Jack is yellow and has more seeds. The Durian is more highly regarded, but the Jack is a really tasty fruit, and the seeds or kernels are good when roasted.

There are many other sorts of Grain, Roots and Fruits in this Island, which to give a particular description of would fill up a large Volume.

There are many other types of grains, roots, and fruits on this island, and detailing them all would take up a large volume.

In this Island are also many sorts of Beasts, both wild and tame; as Horses, Bulls, and Cows, Buffaloes, [283]Goats, Wild Hogs, Deer, Monkies, Guano’s, Lizards, Snakes, &c. I never saw or heard of any Beasts of Prey here, as in many other places. The Hogs are ugly Creatures; they have all great Knobs growing over their Eyes, and there are multitudes of them in the Woods. They are commonly very poor, yet sweet. Deer are here very plentiful in some places, where they are not disturbed.

In this island, there are many kinds of animals, both wild and domesticated, such as horses, bulls, cows, buffaloes, [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]goats, wild hogs, deer, monkeys, guanas, lizards, snakes, &c. I’ve never seen or heard of any predators here, unlike in many other places. The hogs are unattractive creatures; they have large bumps above their eyes, and there are tons of them in the woods. They are usually quite lean but still taste good. Deer are quite plentiful in some areas where they aren’t disturbed.

Of the venemous kind of Creatures here are Scorpions, whose sting is in their Tail; and Centapees, call’d by the English 40 Legs, both which are also common in the West-Indies, in Jamaica, and elsewhere. These Centapees are 4 or 5 Inches long, as big as a Goose-Quill, but flattish; of a Dun or reddish colour on the Back, but Belly whitish and full of Legs on each side the Belly. Their Sting or bite is more raging than the Scorpion. They lie in old Houses, and dry Timber. There are several sorts of Snakes, some very Poisonous. There is another sort of Creature like a Guano both in colour and shape, but four times as big, whose Tongue is like a small Harpoon, having two beards like the Beards of a Fishook. They are said to be very venemous, but I know not their Names. I have seen them in other places also, as at Pulo Condore, or the Island Condore, and at Achin, and have been told that they are in the Bay of Bengal.

Of the venomous creatures here, there are scorpions, whose sting is in their tail, and centipedes, referred to by the English as 40 legs. Both are also common in the West Indies, including Jamaica and elsewhere. These centipedes are about 4 or 5 inches long, roughly the thickness of a goose quill but flattened; they have a dun or reddish color on their back, while their belly is whitish and covered with legs on each side. Their sting or bite is more painful than that of the scorpion. They tend to reside in old houses and dry timber. There are several types of snakes, some of which are very poisonous. There's another type of creature that resembles a guano in both color and shape but is four times bigger, with a tongue resembling a small harpoon and having two beards like the barbs of a fishhook. They are said to be very venomous, but I do not know their names. I have seen them in other places as well, such as Pulo Condore, or Condore Island, and in Achin, and I’ve been told they are in the Bay of Bengal.

The Fowls of this Country are Ducks and Hens: Other tame Fowl I have not seen nor heard of any. The wild Fowl are Pidgeons, Parrots, Parakits, Turtle Doves, and abundance of small Fowls. There are Bats as big as a Kite.

The birds in this country are ducks and chickens. I haven't seen or heard of any other domesticated birds. The wild birds include pigeons, parrots, parakeets, turtle doves, and a lot of small birds. There are bats as large as a kite.

There are a great many Harbours, Creeks, and good Bays for Ships to ride in; and Rivers navigable [284]for Canoas, Proes or Barks, which are all plentifully stored with Fish of divers sorts, so is also the adjacent Sea. The chiefest Fish are Bonetas, Snooks, Cavally’s Bremes, Mullets, 10 Pounders, &c. Here are also plenty of Sea Turtle, and small Manatee, which are not near so big as those in the West-Indies. The biggest that I saw would not weigh above 600 Pound, but the flesh both of the Turtle and Manatee are very sweet.

There are many harbors, creeks, and good bays where ships can anchor, as well as navigable rivers for canoes, skiffs, or small boats, which are all full of a variety of fish, just like the nearby sea. The most common fish include bonetas, snooks, cavalls, breams, mullets, and ten-pounders, among others. There are also plenty of sea turtles and small manatees, which aren’t nearly as large as those found in the West Indies. The biggest one I saw didn’t weigh more than 600 pounds, but both the turtle and manatee meat are very tasty.

The Weather at Mindanao is temperate enough as to heat, for all it lies so near the Equator; and especially on the borders near the Sea. There they commonly enjoy the breezes by day, and cooling Land Winds at Night. The Winds are Easterly one part of the Year, and Westerly the other. The Easterly Winds begin to blow in October, and it is the middle of November before they are settled. These Winds bring fair Weather. The Westerly Winds begin to blow in May, but are not settled till a Month afterwards. The West Winds always bring Rain, Tornadoes, and very Tempestuous Weather. At the first coming in of these Winds they blow but faintly; but then the Tornadoes rise one in a Day, sometimes two. These are Thunder-showers which commonly come against the Wind, bringing with them a contrary Wind to what did blow before. After the Tornadoes are over, the Wind shifts about again, and the Sky becomes clear, yet then in the Valleys and the sides of the Mountains, there riseth a thick fog, which covers the Land. The Tornadoes continue thus for a Week or more; then they come thicker, two or three in a Day, bringing violent gusts of Wind, and terrible claps of Thunder. At last they come so fast, that the Wind remains in the [285]quarter from whence these Tornadoes do rise, which is out of the West, and there it settles till October or November. When these Westward Winds are thus settled, the Sky is all in mourning, being covered with black Clouds, pouring down excessive Rains sometimes mixt with Thunder and Lightning, that nothing can be more dismal. The Winds raging to that degree, that the biggest Trees are torn up by the Roots, and the Rivers swell and overflow their Banks, and drown the low Land, carrying great Trees into the Sea. Thus it continues sometimes a week together, before the Sun or Stars appear. The fiercest of this Weather is in the latter end of July and in August, for then the Towns seem to stand in a great Pond, and they go from one House to another in Canoas. At this time the Water carries away all the filth and nastiness from under their Houses. Whilst this tempestuous season lasts, the Weather is Cold and Chilly. In September the Weather is more moderate, and the Winds are not so fierce, nor the Rain so violent. The Air thenceforward begins to be more clear and delightsome; but then in the Morning there are thick Fogs, continuing till 10 or 11 a Clock before the Sun shines out, especially when it has rained in the Night. In October the Easterly Winds begin to blow again, and bring fair Weather till April. Thus much concerning the natural state of Mindanao.

The weather in Mindanao is mild, despite being so close to the Equator, especially along the coastal areas. There, people usually enjoy breezes during the day and refreshing land winds at night. The winds blow from the east for part of the year and from the west for the other part. The easterly winds start in October and settle by the middle of November, bringing nice weather. The westerly winds begin in May, but don’t stabilize until a month later. The west winds always bring rain, tornadoes, and very stormy weather. When these winds first appear, they blow gently, but soon, tornadoes can develop, sometimes one or two a day. These thunderstorms usually come against the wind, bringing with them winds that are the opposite of what was blowing before. After the tornadoes pass, the wind shifts again, and the sky clears up; however, in the valleys and on the mountain sides, a thick fog rises, covering the land. The tornadoes can continue for over a week, increasing in frequency to two or three a day, accompanied by strong winds and loud thunder. Eventually, they come so frequently that the wind settles from the [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__] direction, which is from the west, and stays that way until October or November. Once the west winds have settled, the sky looks gloomy, filled with black clouds that pour down heavy rains, sometimes mixed with thunder and lightning, creating a very bleak atmosphere. The winds can pick up so intensely that even the biggest trees are uprooted, and rivers overflow their banks, flooding low areas and sweeping large trees into the sea. This can last for a week or more, with no sight of the sun or stars. The worst of this weather tends to be at the end of July and in August, when the towns resemble a large pond, and people move from one house to another in canoes. During this time, the water washes away all the dirt and debris from under their homes. While this stormy season lasts, the weather is cold and chilly. In September, the weather becomes milder, with less severe winds and rain. The air starts to clear up and become more pleasant, but in the mornings, there are thick fogs that linger until 10 or 11 o'clock before the sun comes out, especially after a rainy night. In October, the easterly winds pick up again, bringing nice weather until April. This is a brief overview of the natural conditions in Mindanao.

(To be concluded.) [287]

(To be concluded.) [__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

1 William Dampier, one of the most noted of English navigators and freebooters, was born of an old Somersetshire family in 1652. He received an education that would fit him for some trade, but, his parents dying while he was young, he was allowed to follow his roving bent; he was bound to the master of a ship in 1669, and made voyages to France and Newfoundland. In 1670 he sailed as a common sailor to Java, returning to England in 1672. The next year he served against the Dutch, and in 1674 went to Jamaica, where he lived for more than a year as a planter. In August of the following year (1675), he became a logwood-cutter at Campeachy, where he first met with the freebooters. The year 1678 found him in England, but in 1679 he was once more in Jamaica; and shortly after began his life as a privateer, part of his adventures being given in detail in the present text. After his return to England in 1691, not much is known of him until 1697, when he published his travels. Two years later he was deputed by the government to conduct a voyage of discovery to the South Seas, during which voyage he explored the west and northwest coasts of Australia, New Guinea, and New Britain, and named the Dampier Archipelago and Strait. He made two other circumnavigations (1703–07, and 1708–11), the last as pilot of the privateer “Duke.” His death occurred in London in 1715. Dampier also left various other writings. The seventh edition of his voyages, published in 1729, is a composite work, and contains much that is not Dampier’s own. Consequently, that edition is not used in the present instance, as we prefer to present Dampier’s own work. See Knox’s New Col. of Voyages (London, 1767), iii, pp. 28–121; and New International Encyclopædia. ↑

1 William Dampier, one of the most famous English navigators and pirates, was born into an old family from Somerset in 1652. He received an education meant for a trade, but after his parents died when he was young, he was free to pursue his adventurous nature; he joined the crew of a ship in 1669 and made trips to France and Newfoundland. In 1670, he sailed as an ordinary sailor to Java and returned to England in 1672. The next year, he fought against the Dutch, and in 1674, he went to Jamaica, where he worked as a planter for over a year. In August of the following year (1675), he started cutting logwood in Campeachy, where he first encountered other pirates. By 1678, he was back in England, but in 1679, he returned to Jamaica and soon began his privateering career, with some of his adventures detailed in this text. After returning to England in 1691, not much is known about him until 1697, when he published his travels. Two years later, the government appointed him to lead an exploratory voyage to the South Seas, during which he explored the western and northwestern coasts of Australia, New Guinea, and New Britain, naming the Dampier Archipelago and Strait. He went on two more circumnavigations (1703–07 and 1708–11), the last one as the pilot of the privateer “Duke.” He died in London in 1715. Dampier also wrote several other works. The seventh edition of his voyages, published in 1729, is a mixed collection that includes much material not written by Dampier himself. Therefore, that edition is not referenced here, as we aim to present only Dampier's original work. See Knox’s New Col. of Voyages (London, 1767), iii, pp. 28–121; and New International Encyclopædia. ↑

2 The title-page of this book reads as follows: “A new Voyage round the World. Describing particularly, The Isthmus of America, several Coasts and Islands in the West Indies, the Isles of Cape Verd, the Passage by Terra del Fuego, the South Sea Coasts of Chili, Peru, and Mexico; the Isle of Guam one of the Ladrones, Mindanao, and other Philippine and East India Islands near Cambodia, China, Formosa, Luconia, Celebes, &c., New Holland, Sumatra, Nicobar, Isles; the Cape of Good Hope, and Santa Helena. Their Soil, Rivers, Harbours, Plants, Fruits, Animals, and Inhabitants. Their Customs, Religion, Government, Trade, &c. Vol. I. By Captain William Dampier. Illustrated with Particular Maps and Draughts. The fifth edition corrected. London: Printed for James Knapton, at the Crown in St. Paul’s Church-yard. 1703.” ↑

2 The title page of this book says: “A New Voyage Around the World. Specifically describing The Isthmus of America, several coasts and islands in the West Indies, the Isles of Cape Verde, the passage by Terra del Fuego, the South Sea coasts of Chile, Peru, and Mexico; the Isle of Guam, one of the Ladrones, Mindanao, and other Philippine and East India islands near Cambodia, China, Formosa, Luconia, Celebes, etc., New Holland, Sumatra, Nicobar Islands; the Cape of Good Hope, and Santa Helena. Their soil, rivers, harbors, plants, fruits, animals, and inhabitants. Their customs, religion, government, trade, &c. Vol. I. By Captain William Dampier. Illustrated with detailed maps and drawings. The fifth corrected edition. London: Printed for James Knapton, at the Crown in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1703.” ↑

3 Of the Jew-fish, Dampier says (i, p. 249): “The Jew-fish is a very good Fish, and I judge so called by the English, because it hath Scales and Fins, therefore a clean Fish, according to the Levitical Law, and the Jews at Jamaica buy them, and eat them very freely. It is a very large Fish, shaped much like a Cod, but a great deal bigger; one will weigh 3, or 4, or 5 hundred weight. It hath a large Head, with great Fins and Scales, as big as an Half-Crown, answerable to the bigness of his Body. It is very sweet Meat, and commonly fat. This Fish lives among Rocks; there are plenty of them in the West-Indies, about Jamaica, and the Coast of Caraccos; but chiefly in these Seas, especially more Westward.” ↑

3 Dampier mentions the Jewfish (i, p. 249): “The Jewfish is a really good fish, and I think it was named by the English because it has scales and fins, making it a clean fish according to the Levitical Law. The Jews in Jamaica buy and eat them quite freely. It’s a very large fish, shaped a lot like a cod, but much bigger; one can weigh 300, 400, or even 500 pounds. It has a large head, with huge fins and scales, as big as a half-crown coin, proportional to its body size. It’s very tasty meat and usually quite fatty. This fish lives among rocks; there are plenty of them in the West Indies, around Jamaica, and along the coast of Caraccos, but especially in these waters, particularly further west.” ↑

4 In the preface to his first volume, Dampier says that he had intended to add an appendix, in which various matters were to have been discussed, but he omits it because it would swell his volume too greatly. ↑

4 In the preface to his first book, Dampier mentions that he planned to include an appendix where he would discuss various topics, but he decided not to because it would make his book too lengthy. ↑

5 The latitude of the island of Guam is 13° 27′ North and its longitude 145° East. ↑

5 The latitude of Guam is 13° 27′ North and its longitude is 145° East. ↑

6 Robert Knox (1640–1720) was the first English writer on Ceylon, where he was a prisoner among the natives for almost twenty years. After his escape from captivity he reached a Dutch colony on the coast, and returned to England in 1680. He made later voyages to India and the South Seas. His relation is entitled An Historical Relation of the Island of Ceylon in the East Indies; Together with an Account of the Detaining in Captivity the Author and Diverse Other Englishmen Now Living There, and of the Author’s Miraculous Escape (London, 1681). It has been translated into French, Dutch, and German. (New International Encyclopædia.) ↑

6 Robert Knox (1640–1720) was the first English writer about Ceylon, where he was a prisoner among the natives for almost twenty years. After he escaped from captivity, he made it to a Dutch colony on the coast and returned to England in 1680. He later took voyages to India and the South Seas. His account is titled An Historical Relation of the Island of Ceylon in the East Indies; Together with an Account of the Detaining in Captivity the Author and Diverse Other Englishmen Now Living There, and of the Author’s Miraculous Escape (London, 1681). It has been translated into French, Dutch, and German. (New International Encyclopædia.) ↑

7 At first sight, this might be considered the source of the English word “outriggers;” but according to Murray (who cites this statement of Dampier’s) the Dutch word uitlegger was not used in this sense until a much later date, and cannot be considered as the source of the English word. ↑

7 At first glance, this might be seen as the origin of the English word “outriggers;” however, according to Murray (who references this assertion by Dampier), the Dutch word uitlegger wasn’t employed in this way until much later and shouldn’t be regarded as the source of the English term. ↑

8 The governor of the Marianas, Antonio Saravia, died on November 3, 1683, and was succeeded by Damian de Esplana. Early in 1684, he sent José de Quiroga to subdue, the northern islands of the group. Taking advantage of this division of the Spanish forces, the natives of Guam rebelled, and on July 23 attacked the Spaniards in Agaña, badly wounding Esplana, killing nearly fifty soldiers and wounding others, and killing or wounding several Jesuits. Meanwhile the natives of Seypan attacked Quiroga, but he finally defeated them and came back to Guam (November 23); but he could not punish the natives, as they fled to the mountains and the neighboring islands. In 1688 Esplana went to Manila for medical treatment, but returned about a year later; and he died at Agaña in 1694. (Murillo Velarde, Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 359 b-361.) ↑

8 The governor of the Marianas, Antonio Saravia, died on November 3, 1683, and was succeeded by Damian de Esplana. Early in 1684, he sent José de Quiroga to take control of the northern islands in the group. Taking advantage of the split in Spanish forces, the people of Guam rebelled and on July 23 attacked the Spaniards in Agaña, seriously injuring Esplana, killing nearly fifty soldiers, and injuring others, as well as killing or injuring several Jesuits. Meanwhile, the people of Seypan attacked Quiroga, but he eventually defeated them and returned to Guam on November 23; however, he couldn’t punish the natives, as they fled to the mountains and nearby islands. In 1688, Esplana went to Manila for medical treatment but returned about a year later; he died in Agaña in 1694. (Murillo Velarde, Hist. de Philipinas, fol. 359 b-361.) ↑

9 The English factory at Fort St. George, the chief citadel of Madras. Fort St. George was established in 1639, a piece of land having been obtained from the rajah of Chandgherry; it commands the Black Town and the Roads, and may be considered the nucleus of the city. It was held by the French during the years 1744–49. ↑

9 The English factory at Fort St. George, the main fortress of Madras. Fort St. George was founded in 1639, after land was granted by the rajah of Chandgherry; it overlooks the Black Town and the Roads, and can be seen as the center of the city. The French occupied it from 1744 to 1749. ↑

10 This was the galleon “San Telmo;” it arrived safely at Manila. ↑

10 This was the galleon “San Telmo;” it safely reached Manila. ↑

11 Evidently the island of Leyte which fits Dampier’s description of the island of St. John (see post). ↑

11 Clearly, the island of Leyte matches Dampier’s description of St. John Island (see post). ↑

12 Magalhães was killed, not in Luzon, but on the island of Mactan. ↑

12 Magalhães was killed, not in Luzon, but on the island of Mactan. ↑

[__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL DATA

The documents in this volume are obtained from the following sources:

The documents in this volume come from the following sources:

1. Manila and the Philippines.—From Navarrete’s Tratados historicos (Madrid, 1676), tratado vi, chaps, iii–viii; from a copy in the Library of Congress. Chaps. iii–iv appeared in VOL. XXXVII; the remainder is presented in the present volume.

1. Manila and the Philippines.—From Navarrete’s Historico Treatises (Madrid, 1676), treatise vi, chapters iii–viii; from a copy in the Library of Congress. Chapters iii–iv appeared in VOL. 37; the rest is included in this volume.

2. Condition of the clergy.—In Ventura del Arco MSS (Ayer library), iii, pp. 1–5.

2. Condition of the clergy.—In Ventura del Arco MSS (Ayer library), iii, pp. 1–5.

3. Prerogatives of ex-provincials.—From Hernaez’s Colección de bulas, i, p. 592.

3. Prerogatives of ex-provincials.—From Hernaez’s Colección de bulas, i, p. 592.

4. Royal patronage of Santo Tomás.—From Algunos documentos relat. á la Univ. de Manila, pp. 31–33.

4. Royal patronage of Santo Tomás.—From Algunos documentos relat. a la Univ. de Manila, pp. 31–33.

5. Letter by Pizarro Orellana.—From a MS. in the Archivo general de Indias, Sevilla; pressmark, “Simancas—Eclesiastico; Audiencia de Filipinas; cartas y espedientes de los obispos sufraganeos de Manila; años 1597 á 1698; est. 68, caj. 1, leg. 34.”

5. Letter by Pizarro Orellana.—From a manuscript in the General Archive of the Indies, Sevilla; pressmark, “Simancas—Ecclesiastical; Audiencia de Filipinas; letters and documents from the suffragan bishops of Manila; years 1597 to 1698; est. 68, box 1, file 34.”

6. Insurrections by Filipinos. This is compiled from various early writers—Murillo Velarde, Diaz, Combés, and others—full references to these sources being given in the text itself.

6. Filipino Uprisings. This is compiled from various early writers—Murillo Velarde, Diaz, Combés, and others—with full references to these sources provided in the text itself.

7. Dampier in the Philippines.—From Dampier’s Voyages (London ed. of 1703), i, pp. 279–402; from a copy in the library of Harvard University.

7. Dampier in the Philippines.—From Dampier’s Voyages (London ed. of 1703), i, pp. 279–402; from a copy in the library of Harvard University.

Colophon

Availability

Page scans of this work are available in the The United States and its Territories collection at the University of Michigan, as well as in the Internet Archive (copy 1, 2, 3).

Page scans of this work are available in the The United States and its Territories collection at the University of Michigan, as well as in the Internet Archive (copy 1, 2, 3).

Related Library of Congress catalog page: 03006936.

Related Library of Congress catalog page: 03006936.

Related Open Library catalog page (for source): OL6925491M.

Related Open Library catalog page (for source): OL6925491M.

Related Open Library catalog page (for work): OL16096239W.

Related Open Library catalog page (for work): OL16096239W.

Related WorldCat catalog page: 651237055.

Related WorldCat catalog page: __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

Encoding

Revision History

  • 2014-04-06 Started.

External References

Corrections

The following corrections have been applied to the text:

The following corrections have been made to the text:

Page Source Correction
103 neyer never
111, N.A. [Not in source] ,
116 Guilio Giulio
133, 136, 167, 265 [Not in source] .
192 , [Deleted]

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