y^Y^ay
'l^ivc^Sf'^^ ^ ^a/t^orruih
78^ R(p2.7
I
Friars«»" Filipinos
AN ABRIDGED TRANSLATION OF
DR. JOSE RIZAL'S
Tagalog Novel, *'Noli Me Tangere.
BY
FRANK ERNEST GANNETT.
NEW YORK: THE ST. JAMES PRESS.
^^^. *v
Copyright, 1900V
by
FRANK ERNEST GANNETT.
MENRY MORSE STEPHEf»
TO
Jacob Gould Schurman,
Prwidcnt of Cornell Uoivertity.
511002
Digitized by the Internet Arcinive
in 2008 witii funding from
IVIicrosoft Corporation
littp://www.arcliive.org/details/friarsfilipinosOOrizarich
PREFACE.
While serving on the staff of the first United States Commission to the Philippine Islands my attention was called to the life and writings of Dr. Jose Rizal. I found in his novel, "Noli Me Tangere,"the best picture of the life of the people of those islands under Spanish rule, and the clearest exposition of the governmental problems which Spain failed to solve, and with which our own people must deal. It occurred to me that an English translation of RizaPs work would be of great value at the present time. My first intention was to reproduce the entire novel as it was written, but, after careful consideration, I thought best to abridge the story by the omission of some parts which did not seem essential to the main purpose of the work. The present volume is the result.
Readers should not understand any of Rizal's references to priests and friars as reflections upon the Roman Catholic Church. He was throughout his life an ardent Catholic, and died a firm adherent of the Church. But he objected to the religious orders in the Philippine Islands, because he knew well that they were more zealous in furthering their own selfish ends than in seeking the advancement of Christianity. From experience. Dr. Rizal knew that the friars, under cloak of the gospel ministry, oppressed his fellow countrymen, and took advantage of their super- stition and ignorance. These wrongs he was brave enough to expose in his writings. In the friars he saw an obstacle to the education and enlightenment of the Filipino people.
Yi Preface.
and, using moderate means, he did his utmost to secure reform. His writings will explain to us the cause of the hatred shown by the Filipinos toward the religious cor- porations, and will make clearer the nature of one of the present problems in the Philippines.
There are in the Philippines five religious orders: the Dominicans, Franciscans, Recoletos, Augustines and Jesuits. 'According to John Foreman, an eminent authority, the members of all of these, except the last named, come from the lower classes in Spain, and are on the whole com- paratively ignorant and uncultured. Under the Spanish system of government certain provinces were assigned to each of the orders — except the Jesuits — and the friars were distributed among the different parishes. In the town assigned to him the friar had much authority. He was chief adviser in all civil affairs, and, by his influence over the superstitious natives, maintained absolute con- trol in all matters pertaining to the local government as well as to the local church. So firm was his hold that he led* the Spanish government to believe that the islands could not be ruled without his aid. Knowing that his power rested on the ignorance of the people he discouraged edu- cation among them. When native Filipinos advanced so far as to prove an obstacle to the religious orders, as did Rizal and many others, the friars sought to destroy them. Forgetting their holy mission, the religious orders became commercial corporations, amassed enormous wealth, and gained possession of the most valuable parts of the islands, though to much of this property the titles are not clear.
From my own observation, and from information derived from the Spaniards themselves, I am convinced that the author has not overdrawn his pictures. In fact I have learned of instances where the oppression and practices of the friars were even worse than those described. Dr.
Preface. vii
Eizal has given us a portrayal of the Filipino character from the viewpoint of the most advanced Filipino. He brings out many facts that are pertinent to present-day questions, showing especially the Malayan ideas of venge- ance, which will put great difficulties in the way of the pacifying of the islands by our forces. The reader will not fail to notice the striking similarity between the life of Ibarra, the hero, and that of Rizal, the author, a short sketch of whose career has been given in the following pages.
For assistance in preparing this volume for publication I offer sincere thanks to William H. Glasson, Ph.D., In- structor in History in the George School, Newtown, Pa. Dr. Glasson has read the entire manuscript and proofs, and I have been glad to avail myself of his advice on many doubtful points. I desire also to acknowledge my indebted- ness for favors received to Horatio Green, Interpreter to the Supreme Court of the Philippine Islands, to W. G. Richardson, of New York, and to the publishers.
F E G
Ithaca, N. Y., Dec. 1, 1900.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. Don Santiago's Dinner 1
CHAPTER n. At the Dinner Table 11
CHAPTER III. Heretic and Revolutionist 16
CHAPTER rV. Captain Tiago 5J8
CHAPTER V. An Idyl on the Azotea 29
CHAPTER VI. Things Philippine 86
CHAPTER VII. San Diego and Its People 40
CHAPTER VIII. Ibarra and the Grave-Digger 47
CHAPTER IX. Adventures of a School Teacher 51
CHAPTER X. Lights and Shadows •••••• 67
CHAPTER XI. The Fishing Party 59
CHAPTER XII. In the Woods 08
CHAPTER XIII. In the House of Tasio 77
The Eve of the Fiesta,
Contents.
CHAPTER XIV. pAo«
CHAPTER XV. As Night Comes On 87
CHAPTER XVI. The Hoisting Crane 92
CHAPTER XVII. The Banquet 104
CHAPTER XVIII. The First Cloud 112
CHAPTER XIX. His Excellency 116
CHAPTER XX. The Procession 125
CHAPTER XXI. Dofia Consolacion 129
CHAPTER XXII. Might and Right 187
CHAPTER XXIII. Two Visitors 145
CHAPTER XXIV. Episode in Espadafia's Life 148
CHAPTER XXV. Schemes 161
CHAPTER XXVI. The Persecuted 165
CHAPTER XXVII. The Cock Fight 173
CHAPTER XXVIII. The Two Senoras 181
Contents. xi
CHAPTER XXIX. ,.AaE
The Enigma 188
CHAPTER XXX. The Voice of the Persecuted 191
CHAPTER XXXI. Elias's Family 200
CHAPTER XXXII. Changes 207
CHAPTER XXXin. Playing Cards with the Shades 211
CHAPTER XXXIV. The Discovery 217
CHAPTER XXXV. The Catastrophe 223
CHAPTER XXXVI. What People Say and Think 229
CHAPTER XXXVH. Vae Victis! 285
CHAPTER XXXVm. The Accursed 244
CHAPTER XXXIX. Maria Clara is Married 248
CHAPTER XL. The Pursuit on the Lake 259
CHAPTER XLI. Father Damaso Explains 267
EPiLOaUB 271
JOSE RIZAL.
Dr. Jose Rizal, of whose "Noli Me Tangere/' the following story, is an abridgement, is the most striking character to be found in the history of the Philippine Islands. He was not only a great martyr to the cause of liberty, and to the advancement of his fellow men, but he was without doubt the greatest Filipino ever bom, and his memory is cherished to-day by his people as we ourselves cherish the memory of Washington.
Eizal was bom on June 19th, 1861, in the pueblo of Calamba, in the province of Laguna, on the Island of Luzon. He came of a Tagalog family, which, it is said, ac- knowledged a slight mixture of Chinese blood, and pos- sessed considerable property. As a child he gave evi- dence of extraordinary precocity. He is said to have written poetry in his native tongue at eight years of age, produced a successful melodrama at fourteen, and later to have won prizes in literary contests with writers of recognized ability.
After passing through the University of Manila, and receiving much instmction at the hands of the Jesuit fathers, he was sent to Europe to complete his education. He pursued courses of study in Spanish and Geraaan universities, and won the degrees of Doctor of Medicine and Doctor of Philosophy. Besides acquiring a knowl- edge of seven languages he gained a brilliant reputation for proficiency in the branch of optical surgery. For a time he was the leading assistant in the office of a world- renowned specialist at Vienna.
While in Europe Rizal wrote several books and also
xiv Jos6 Rizal.
gave considerable time to sculpture and painting. His artistic ability was great, and some of his productions are now treasured by friends into whose possession they came. EizaFs best known work is his "Noli Me Tan- gere/' written in Belgium about 1886 or 1887. This novel, with its vivid picture of life in the Philippines, and its exposure of Spanish misrule and oppression, won for him the bitter hatred of the friars, and inspired the relentless persecution which only ended with the tak- ing of his life.
In 1889 Dr. Eizal returned to the Philippines, but was soon compelled to leave his native land in order to escape forcible banishment. After a short residence in Japan, he went to London, where he published a work on the History of the Philippine Islands. About the same time a sequel to "Noli Me Tangere," entitled "El Filibusterismo," was published. The hatred of the priests against him was further inflamed by this production, and the government in Manila was forced by the friars to forbid the circulation of any of his writings. Copies of his novels were burned in the public squares, and it was worth one's life to be found possessing a copy. Until very recently it has been almost impossible to obtain a copy of RizaFs works, and it was necessary to go to Europe to secure the one from which the following abridged translation was made.
In 1893 Dr. Rizal was so overcome with a desire to see again his beautiful fatherland that he ventured, in the face of all the dangers that threatened him, to return to Manila. He had scarcely set foot on shore, however, before he was arrested and thrown in prison. The friars demanded his execution on the groumd that he carried incendiary leaflets for the purpose of stirring up a rebellion, but subsequent inquiries showed that such Imi-
Jose Rizal. xv
lets had been introduced into his baggage at the custom house through the intrigues of the Augustine friars. De- spite his indignant protestations of innocence ; Rizal was summarily condemned by the Spanish General, Despujols, to banishment at Dapitan in the island of Mindanao. Al- though the trickery of the friars became known to him, Despujols lacked courage to revoke his order of banishment, for fear that he, too, would incur the hatred of the power- ful religious corporations.
After four years of exile Rizal saw plainly that the hos- tility of the friars would make it impossible for him to live in his native land. In 1896 a plague of yellow fever broke out in the island of Cuba and Rizal volunteered to lend his medical services to the Spanish government. Ramon Blanco, then general-in-chief of the Spanish forces in the Philippines, accepted the generous offer and recalled the young man to Manila that he might sail at once tor, Cuba. Alarmed by demonstrations of popular affection for Rizal, who represented the aspirations of the Filipino people, the Spanish authorities broke faith with him and imprisoned him in the Fuerza de Santiago. He was ar- raigned on false charges, given a military trial, and at the dictation of the religious orders was sentenced to be shot as a traitor.
At dawn on December 30th, 1896, he was led to the place of execution on the beautiful Luneta, overlooking the tran- quil surface of Manila Bay. Notices of the event had been published throughout the islands and the day on which it was to occur was proclaimed a fiesta. Thousands gathered around the place selected, and so evident was the sympathy of the helpless Filipinos for the man who was to die for their sake that Spain marshalled ten regiments of her sol- diers about the spot. The populace must be intimidated. A nation's hero was about to become a nation's martyr.
:nri Jose Rizal.
.With face uplifted he glanced at the multitude about him and smiled. They tied his arms behind him and made him face the waters of the bay. In vain he protested and begged that he might die facing his executioners. A squad of his fellow countrymen, who were serving in Spain's army, were selected for the bloody work. They drew i i position to shoot him in the back. The order was given to fire, but only one had the courage to obey. The bullet went straight and the hero fell, but another shot was nec- essary to despatch his life. His newly wedded wife re- mained with him to the end. The best hope of the Filipino people was crushed ; a light in a dark place was snuffed out.
Eizal was no extremist, no believer in harsh and bloody methods, no revolutionist. He aimed to secure moderate and reasonable reforms, to lessen the oppressive exactions of the friars, to examine into titles of their land, and to make possible the education and uplifting of his people. He loved Spain as he did his own country, and repeatedly used his influence against the rebellious measures pro- posed by other Filipino leaders. His execution was only one of the numerous outrages which characterized Spain's reign in the Philippines.
In closing this short sketch of Eizal's life we can do no better than to quote the estimate of him made by Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt, professor in the University of Leitmeritz, Austria, who prepared a biographical sketch of Rizal. Dr. Blumentritt said:
"Not only is Rizal the most prominent man of his own people, but the greatest man the Malayan race has pro- duced. His memory will never perish in his fatherland, and future generations of Spaniards will yet learn to utter his name with respect and reverence,'^
• ' > ' » a » 1 • » " ' J J '
FRIARS AND FILIPINOS.
CHAPTER I. DON Santiago's dinner.
In the latter part of October, Don Santiago de los Santos, popularly known as Captain Tiago, gave a din- ner. Though, contrary to his custom, he had not an- nounced it until the afternoon of the day on which it was to occur, the dinner became at once the absorbing topic of conversation in Binondo, in the other suburbs of Manila, and even in the walled city. Cap- tain Tiago was generally considered a most liberal man, and his house, like his country, shut its doors to no one, whether bent on pleasure or on the development of some new and daring scheme.
The dinner was given in the captain's house in Ana- loague street. The building is of ordinary size, of the style of architecture common to the country, and is situated on that arm of the Pasig called by some Bi- nondo Creek. This, like all the streams in Manila, sat- isfies a multitude of needs. It serves for bathing, mor- tar-mixing, laundering, fishing, means of transporta- tion and communication, and even for drinking water, when the Chinese water-carriers find it convenient to use it for that purpose. Although the most important artery of the busiest part of the town, where the roar of commerce is loudest and traffic most congested, the stream is, for a distance of a mile, crossed by only one wooden bridge. During six months of the year, one end of this bridge is out of order, and the other end is im- passable during the remaining time.
The house is low and somewhat out of plumb. No one.
2 Frj^rs^ ^nd Filipinos.
however, knows whether the faulty lines of the building are due to a defect in the sight of the architect who con- structed it, or whether they are the result of earth- quakes and hurricanes.
A wide staircase, with green balustrades and car- peted here and there in spots, leads from the zaguan, or tiled entrance hall, to the second story of the house. On either side of this staircase is a row of flower-pots and vases, placed upon chinaware pedestals, brilliant in coloring and fantastic in design. Upstairs, we enter a spacious hall, which is, in these islands, called caida. This serves to-night for the dining hall. In the middle of the room is a large table, profusely and richly orna- mented, fairly groaning under the weight of delicacies.
In direct contrast to these worldly preparations are the motley colored religious pictures on the walls — such subjects as ^Turgatory,'' "Hell," "The Last Judgment,'' "The Death of the Just," and "The Death of the Sin- ner." Below these, in a beautiful renaissance frame, is a large, curious linen engraving of two old ladies. The picture bears the inscription "Our Lady of Peace, Pro- pitious to Travellers, Venerated in Antipolo, Visiting in the Guise of a Beggar the Pious Wife of the Famous Captain Ines in Her Sickness." In the side of the room toward the river. Captain Tiago has arranged fantastic wooden arches, half Chinese, half European, through which one can pass to the roof which covers part of the first story. This roof serves as a veranda, and has been illuminated with Chinese lanterns in many colors and made into a pretty little arbor or garden. The sola or principal room of the house, where the guests as- sembled is resplendent with colossal mirrors and bril- liant chandeliers, and, upon a platform of pine, is a costly piano of the finest workmanship.
People almost filled this room, the men keeping on one side and the women on the other, as though they were in a Catholic church or a synagogue. Among the wo- men were a number of young girls, both native and Spanish.. Occasionally one of them forgot herself and yawned, but immediately sought to conceal it by cov- ering her mouth with her fan. Conversation was car-
Don Santiago's Dinner. 3
ried on in a low voice and died away in vague mono- syllables, like the indistinct noises heard by night in a large mansion.
An elderly woman with a kindly face, a cousin of Captain Tiago, received the ladies. She spoke Spanish regardless of all the grammatical rules, and her cour- tesies consisted in offering to the Spanish ladies cigar- ettes and betel nut (neither of which they use) and in kissing the hands of the native women after the man- ner of the friars. Finally the poor old lady was com- pletely exhausted, and, taking advantage of a distant crash occasioned lay the breaking of a plate, hurried off precipitately to investigate, murmuring: Jesus! Just wait, you good-for-nothings!"
Among the men there was somewhat more animation. In one corner of the room were some cadets, who chatted with some show of interest, but in a low voice. From time to time they surveyed the crowd and indicated to each other different persons, meanwhile laughing more or less affectedly.
The only people who appeared to be really enjoying themselves were two friars, two citizens and an officer of the army who formed a group around a small table, on which were bottles of wine and English biscuits. The officer was old, tall and sunburnt, and looked as the Duke of Alva might have looked, had he been reduced to a command in the civil guard. He said little, but what he did say was short and to the point. One of the friars was a young Dominican, handsome and dressed with extreme nicety. He wore gold mounted spectacles and preserved the extreme gravity of youth. The other friar, however, who was a Franciscan, talked a great deal and gesticulated even more. Although his hair was getting gray, he seemed to be well preserved and in robust health. His splendid figure, keen glance, square jaw and herculean form gave him the appearance of a Eoman patrician in disguise. He was gay and talked briskly, like one who is not afraid to speak out. Brusque though his words might be, his merry laugh removed any disagreeable impression. .
As to the citizens, one of them was email in stature
4 Friars and Filipinos.
and wore a black beard, his most noticeable feature being his large nose — so large that you could scarcely believe that it was all his own. The other was a young blonde, apparently a recent arrival in the country. The litter was carrying on a lively discussion with the Franciscan.
"You will see," said the friar, "when you have been in the country a few months, and will be convinced that what I say is right. It is one thing to govern in Mad- rid and another to rule in the Philippines."
"But ''
"I, for example," continued Father Damaso, raising his voice to prevent the other from speaking, "I, who can point to my twenty-three years of existence on ba- nanas and rice, can speak with some authority on this subject. Do not come to me with theories or arguments, for I know the native. Eemember, that when I came to this country, I was sent to a parish, small and largely devot^id to agriculture. ' I did not understand Tagalog very well, but I received the confessions of the women and we managed to understand each other. In fact, they came to think so much of me that three years after- ward, when I was sent to another and larger town, where a vacancy had been created by the death of the native parish priest, all the women were in tears. They overwhelmed me with presents, they saw me off with bands of music "
"But this only shows "
"Wait, wait! Do not be in a hurry! My successor remained there a still shorter time, but when he left there were more people to see him off, more tears shed, and more music played, although he had treated the people worse than I, and had raised the parish dues to a sum almost double the amount I had exacted."
"But allow me ''
^^Furthermore, I was twenty years in the town of San Diego and it was only a few months ago — that — that I left. Twenty years! Surely any one will admit that twenty years is time enough to get acquainted with a town. There were six thousand people in San Diego, and I knew every one of them as if he wers my own
Don Santiago's Dinner. 5
child. I knew even the private affairs of them all; I knew in what way this man was 'crooked/ where the shoe pinched that one, what slips every girl had made and with whom, and who was the true father of each child, for I received all of their confessions and they always confessed scrupulously. I can prove what I say by Santiago, our host, for he has considerable property in that town, and it was there that we became friends. Well, then! This will show you what sort of people the natives are: when I went away, only a few old wo- men and some lay brothers saw me off. And that, after I had been there twenty years! Don't you see that this proves beyond a doubt that all the reforms attempted by the Ministers of the Government in Madrid are per- fectly absurd?"
It was now the young man's turn to be perplexed. The lieutenant, who had been listening to the argu- ment, knit his brows. The little man with the black beard made ready to combat or support Father Da- maso's arguments, while the Dominican was content to remain entirely neutral.
"But do you believe ," the young man finally
asked in a curious mood, and looking straight at the friar.
"Do I believe it? As I do the Gospel! The native is so indolent!"
"Ah! Pardon me for interrupting you," said the young blonde, lowering his voice and drawing his chair closer, "but you have spoken a word that arouses my interest. Is this indolence an inherent characteristic of the native, or is it true, as a foreign traveller has said in speaking of a country whose inhabitants are of the same race as these, that this indolence is only a fabri- cation to excuse our own laziness, our backwardness and the faults of our celestial system?"
"Bah! That is nothing but envy! Ask Senor La- ruja, who knows this country very well, whether the native has his equal in the world for indolence and ig- norance."
"It is a fact," replied the little man referred to, "that
6 Friars and Filipinos.
nowhere in the world can any one be found more indo- lent than the native. Positively nowhere!"
"Nor more vicious and ungrateful !"
"N"or with less education V
Somewhat uneasy, the blonde man began to glance about the room. "Gentlemen," he said in a low voice, "I believe that we are in the house of a native, and these young ladies may "
"Bah! Don^t be so sensitive. How long have you been in the country?"
"Four days," answered the young man somewhat ruffled.
"Did you come here as an employee?"
"No, sir. I came on my own account in order to be- come acquainted with the country."
"Man, what a rare bird you are !" exclaimed Father Damaso, looking at him with curiosity. "To come here on your own account for such foolish ends! What a phenomenon ! And when so many books have been writ- ten about this country "
Then, striking the arm of his chair with sudden vio- lence, he exclaimed: "The country is being lost; it is lost already. The governing power supports heretics against the ministers of God."
"What do you mean?" again asked the lieutenant, half rising from his chair.
"What do I mean?" repeated Father Damaso, again raising his voice, and facing the lieutenant. "I mean what I say. I mean that, when a priest turns away the corpse of a heretic from his cemetery, no one, not even the King himself, has the right to interfere, and still less to punish. iVnd yet a general, a miserable little general ''
"Father! His Excellency is the vice-regal representa- tive of His Majesty the King!" exclaimed the officer, rising to his feet.
"What do I care for His Excellency, or for any of your vice-regal representatives !" answered the Francis- can, rising in his turn. "In any other time than the present, he would have been thrown down stairs in the same way as the religious corporations treated the sac-
Don Santiago's Dinner. 7
rilegious governor Bustamente in his time. Those were the days when there was faith!"
"I'll tell you right here that I don't allow any — His Excellency represents His Majesty the King!"
"I don't care whether he is king or rogue. For us there is no king other than the true "
"Stop this immediately!" shouted the lieutenant in a threatening manner, and as though he were commanding his own soldiers. "Take back what you have said, or to-morrow I shall inform His Excellency."
"Go and tell him at once ! Go tell him !" answered Father Damaso, sarcastically, at the same time ap- proaching the lieutenant with his fists doubled. "Don't you think for a moment that, because I wear the dress of a monk, I'm not a man. Hurry! Go tell him! I'll lend you my carriage."
The discussion began to grow ridiculous as the speak- ers became more heated, but, at this point, fortunately, the Dominican interfered.
"Gentlemen !" he said in a tone of authority, and with that nasal twang which is so characterisrie of the friars, "there is no reason why you should thus confuse matters or take offense where it is not intended. We should dis- tinguish between what Father Damaso says as a man, and what he says as a priest. Whatever he may say as a priest cannot be offensive, for the words of a priest are understood to be absolutely true."
"But I understand what his motives are. Father Sibyla !" interrupted the lieutenant, who saw that he would be drawn into a net of such fine distinction that, if he allowed it to go on. Father Damaso would get off scot free. "I know very well what his motives are, and Your Reverence will also perceive them. During the absence of Father Damaso from San Diego, his assist- ant buried the body of a very worthy person. Yes, sir, an extremely worthy person ! I had known the man from time to time and had often been his guest. What if he never had been to confession? I do not confess, Either. To say that he committed suicide is a lie, a slander. A man such as he, with a son whose success and love were more than all the world to him; a man
8 Friars and Filipinos.
who believed in God, who fulfilled his duty to society, who was honorable and just — such a man does not com- mit suicide. That is what I say! I am not telling you all that I think about this matter, and Your Reverence should be very thankful that I restrain myself."
Turning his back on the Franciscan, he continued: "As I was saying, this priest, when he returned to the town, after maltreating his coadjutor, ordered that the man's body be taken up and thrown out of the ceme- tery, to be buried I know not where. The town of San Diego was too cowardly to protest, though, in fact, very few people knew much about the matter. The dead man had no relatives in the town and his only son was in Europe. His Excellency, however, learned about the affair, and being at heart upright and just, he ordered that the priest be punished. As a result, Father Da- maso was transferred to another but better town. That is all there was to it. Now you can make all the distinc- tions you like."
So saying, he left the group.
"I am very sorry to have touched upon so delicate a sub- ject," said Father Sibyla, "but, after all, if the change from one town to another was to your advantage ^"
"How could it be to my advantage? How about all the things that I lost?" interrupted Father Damaso, fairly boiling over with rage.
"Good evening, gentlemen! Good evening, Father!" said Captain Santiago, who at that instant entered the room, leading a youth by the hand. On saluting his guests in this manner, he kissed the hands of the priests, who, by the way, forgot to give him their blessing. The Dominican took off his gold-rimmed spectacles in order to examine the new arrival at better advantage, while Father Damaso, turning pale at the sight, stared at the youth with eyes wide open.
"I have the honor of presenting to you Don Crisos- tomo Ibarra, the son of my deceased friend," said Cap- tain Tiago. "The young man has just arrived from Europe, and I have been to meet him." At the mere mention of the name, exclamations were heard in all parts of the room. The lieutenant, forgetting himself
Don Santiago's Dinner. 0
entirely, did not stop to salute his host, but at once approached the young man and surveyed him from head to foot. The youth exchanged the usual greetings with those who had gathered around him. He showed no striking peculiarity, except in his sombre dress, which was in deep contrast with that of the other persons present. His athletic build, his appearance, and every movement he made showed, however, that a fine mind and a healthy body had both been highly developed. You could see from his frank and vivajuious face that he had Spanish blood in his veins. Although his hair, eyes and complexion were dark, his cheeks had a slight color, due, no doubt, to residence in cold countries.
"What !" he exclaimed with glad surprise, "the parish priest of my own town! Father Damaso, my father's intimate friend!" Every one in the room looked at the Franciscan, but the latter made no motion.
"You must excuse me, if I have made a mistake," added Ibarra, somewhat in doubt because of the apathy of the friar.
"You have made no mistake," the priest finally an- swered in a strained voice, "but your father was never an intimate friend of mine."
Ibarra slowly withdrew the hand which he had offered, looking at the friar with great surprise. As he turned about, he came face to face with the lieutenant just ap- proaching.
"My boy, are you the son of Don Rafael Ibarra ?"
The young man bowed in acquiescence. Father Dd- maso settled back into his arm-chair and fixed his eyes upon the lieutenant.
"Welcome to your country! May you be more happy in it than was your father!" exclaimed the officer in a trembling voice. "I had many dealings with your father and I knew him well, and I can say that he was one of the most worthy and honorable men in the Philippines."
"Sir," replied Ibarra with emotion, "your praise of my father puts me in doubt as to his fate. Even now I, his own son, am ignorant of it all."
The eyes of the old man filled with tears. He turned
10 Friars and Filipinos.
and hurriedly withdrew. Ibarra found himself standing alone in the middle of the room. His host had disap- peared, and he turned to a group of gentlemen, who, as soon as they saw him coming, formed a semicircle to re- ceive him.
"Gentlemen," he said, "in Germany, when a stranger attends any social function and there is no one present to introduce him, it is allowable for him to introduce himself. Permit me to avail myself of this practice. Gentlemen, my name is Juan Crisostomo Ibarra y Mag- salin." The others gave their names in turn, of which the most were comparatively unknown.
"My name is A a," said one of the young men, bow- ing stiffly.
"Then, perhaps, I have the honor of addressing the poet whose works have kept up my enthusiasm for my country? I have been told that you have stopped writ- ing, but no one has told me why."
"Why? Because there is no use in invoking the muses for false and foolish ends. A case has been made out against one man for having put into verse a true story of Pero Grullo. I am not going to get myself into a similar scrape. They may call me a poet, but they shall not call me a fool."
"And can you not tell us what that true story was?"
"Yes. The poet said that the son of a lion is also a lion, and for saying this he narrowly escaped being banished."
"Dinner is ready," announced a waiter who had been borrowed from the Cafe Campaiia. The guests began to file into the dining room, not, however, without many sighs, and even some prayers among the women, espe- cially the natives, that the dreaded affair would soon be over.
At the Dinner Table. 11
CHAPTER 11.
AT THE DINNER TABLE.
Father Sibyla wore a satisfied air. He moved along tranquilly, and his closed, thin lips showed no signs of dis- dain. On the other hand, the Franciscan was in a very bad humor. As he walked toward the table, he kicked over the chairs which happened to be in his way and boxed the ears of one of the cadets. The lieutenant was very solemn and grave.
The two friars instinctively started for the head of the table, perhaps by force of habit, and, as might have been expected, they met on opposite sides of the same chair. Then, with ponderous courtesy, each entreated the other to sit down, giving in turn his reasons why the other should take precedence. Every one at the table understood how both really felt in the matter, and all knew well that the one who did not take the coveted seat would grumble dis- contentedly for the remainder of the evening. The farce proceeded something like this:
"You take it. Brother Damaso ! It is for you !"
"No, you take it. Brother Sibyla !"
"You are an old friend of the family, the confessor of its deepest mysteries ; your age, your dignity, your "
"No, that is all right as far as age goes, but, on the other hand you are the priest of this suburb," answered Father Damaso in an insincere tone, without, however, leaving the chair.
"As you order it, I obey," concluded Father Sibyla, making ready to sit down.
"But I do not order it," protested the Franciscan, "I do not order it."
Father Sibyla was about to take the seat without any further regard to the protests of his brother, when his eyes dianced to meet those of the lieutenant. According to the
12 Friars and Filipinos.
religious customs in the Philippines, the highest military officer is inferior to even a convent cook. "Cedent arma togce/* said Cicero in the Senate. ''Cedent arma cottce/* say the friars in the Philippines. Father Sibyla, however, was a person of some culture and refinement, and, as soon as he noticed the expression on the lieutenant's face, said: "Here! We are now out in the w^orld, and not in the Church. This seat belongs to you, lieutenant!'' But, to judge from the tone of his voice, he thought that, although he was out in the world and not in the Church, the seat nevertheless belonged to him. The lieutenant, either to save himself trouble or in order to avoid sitting between two friars, declined the honor in a very few words.
Neither of the disputants had thought of the owner of the house. Ibarra saw him looking upon the scene and smiling with satisfaction.
"How is this, Don Santiago ! Aren't you going to sit down with us ?''
But all of the seats were already occupied, and Lucullus did not dine in the house of Lucullus.
"Sit still! Don't get up!" said Captain Tiago, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder. "The fact is that this feast is given in honor of the Virgin on account of your safe arrival. Here! Bring on the tinola! I ordered some tinola made expressly for you, for I feel quite certain that you have not had any since you left the Philippines a long while ago."
A large dish was brought in, still steaming and filled to the brim with tinola. The Dominican, after murmur- ing the Benedicite (to which only a few of those present could give the response), began to serve the contents of the dish. Either from carelessness or for some other reason, he passed to Father Damaso a plate filled with the_somL^nd stew, but containing only two_smaU_piece8_ ^ chicken, a bony neck and a tough wing. ^ Meanwhile" tne"others, especially Ibarra, were eating all sorts of choice bits. The Franciscan, of course, noticed this, mussed over the stew, took a mouthful of the soup, dropped his spoon with a clatter into his plate, and pushed the dish to one side. While this was going on, the Dominican ap- peared to be absorbed in conversation with the young
At the Dinner Table. 13
blonde. Senor Laruja had also begun to converse with Ibarra.
"How long has it been since you were last in this coun- try;'' eaid he.
"About seven years," responded Ibarra.
"You must have forgotten all about it."
"On the contrary, although my country seems to have forgotten me, I have always kept her in mind."
"What do you mean ?" interposed the blonde.
**1 mean that for over a year I have not received any news from here, so that now I feel like a total stranger. I do not yet know how or when my father died."
"Ah !" exclaimed the lieutenant.
"Where have you been that you did not telegraph?" asked one of the ladies. "When I was married, we tele- graphed to the Peninsula."
"Senora, for the last two years I have been in northern Europe, in Germany and in Poland."
"And what country of Europe do you like best?" asked the young blonde, who had been listening interestedly.
"After Spain, which is my second fatherland, oh — any free country in Europe."
"You seem to have travelled a great deal — what is the most ri^markable thing that you have observed?" asked Laruja.
Ibarra appeared to be reflecting on the question. "Ee- markable ? In what way ?"
"For instance, in the life of the different peoples, — ^their social, political and religious life "
Ibarra meditated for some little time. "I always made
it a point to study the history of a country before visiting
^it, and I find that national development invariably follows
* )erfectly natural rules. I have always noticed that the
)rosperity or poverty of different peoples is in direct pro-
[ortion to their liberties or their lack of liberty, or, in
:her words, in proportion to the sacrifices or selfishness
)f their forefathers."
"And is that all you have observed?" asked the Fran- ciscan, with a loud laugh. Up to this time, he had not uttered a single word, but had given his attention to the dinner. "It was not worth while to squander your fortune
14 Friars and Filipinos.
for the purpose of learning such a trifle — a thing that every school boy knows."
Ibarra looked at him intently, doubtful what to say. The guests glanced at each other, fearing that a quarrel would break out. "The dinner has been too long, and Your Reverence is affected by too much wine," Ibarra was about to reply, but he checked himself in time and only said: "Gentlemen, do not wonder at the familiarity with which our old parish priest treats me. He treated me this way when I was a child, and the years that have passed since then have not changed His Eeverence. I de- rive a certain amount of pleasure from it, for I am re- minded of those days when His Reverence was a frequent visitor at our house and honored my father's table."
The Dominican glanced furtively at the Franciscan, who was trembling. Ibarra continued, rising from his chair: "You will allow me to withdraw, for I have only just ar- rived, and I must leave town to-morrow. Besides, I have a great many things to do before I leave. The dinner is practically finished, and I drink very little wine and scarcely touch spirits. Gentlemen, here's to Spain and the Philippines."
Saying this, he emptied the glass, which, until then, he had not touched. The old lieutenant followed his ex- ample, but said nothing.
"Do not go V said Captain Tiago to him in a low voice. "Maria Clara is coming immediately. Isabel has just gone to get her. The new parish priest of your town is also coming, and he is a saint."
"I shall come to-morrow before I leave. I have to make a most important visit yet to-night, and really must go !" With this he took his departure. In the meantime, the Franciscan had recovered himself.
"You see how it is," said he to the young blonde, gestic- ulating with his dessert knife. "It is nothing but pride. He could not bear to have a priest reprove him. Can de- cent people believe it? This is the evil consequence of sending young men to Europe. The Government ought to prohibit it."
That night, the young blonde wrote, among other things, in the first chapter of his "Colonial Studies": "How the
At the Dinner Table. 15
neck and wing of a chicken in a friar's plate of tinola can disturb the gayety of a feast I" And among his other ob- servations were the following: "In the Philippines the most insignificant person at a dinner or a feast is the host. The owner of the house has only to remain out in the streetj and everything will go along beautifully. In the present state of affairs, it would be well to forbid the Fili- pinos to leave their country, and not to teach them how to read."
16 Friars and Filipinos.
CHAPTER III.
HEBETIC AND EEVOLUTIONIST.
Ibarra was still confused, but the evening breeze, which, in Manila, is at this time of the year always cool and re- freshing, seemed gently to lift the hazy mist which hung over his eyes. He removed his hat and drew a deep, long breath.
Men of all nationalities passed by in swift carriages or in slow-going, rented calesas. He was walking at that slow pace characteristic alike of deep thought and lazi- ness, and was making his way toward the Plaza of Binondo. He looked about in search of any old and familiar ob- jects. Yes, there were the same old streets, the same old houses with white and blue fronts, the same old walls cov- ered with whitewash or repainted in poor imitation of granite; there was the same old church tower, its clock with transparent face still marking the hours; there, too, were the old Chinese shops, with their dirty curtains and iron rods, one of which remained unrepaired as he himself had bent it when a boy.
"Things go slowly here!" he muttered and continued up the street past the vestry.
As they dished up flavored ices, the street venders were still crying "sorbettes.'^ The same little cocoanut oil lamps furnished light for the stands where native women and Chinese disposed of their sweetmeats and fruit.
'It is marvellous,'' he exclaimed. "There is the same Chinaman who was at that stand seven years ago. There is that same old woman whom I remember so well. Why, one might think my seven years in Europe but a night's sleep. And, by heavens, they have not yet repaired this broken place in the pavement !"
Indeed, the stone which had been torn out of the pave- ment before he left Manila had not yet been replaced.
Heretic and Revolutionist. 17
While lie was meditating upon the wonderful stability of things in so unstable a country, some one placed a hand upon his shoulder. With a start he looked up, and his eyes met those of the old lieutenant, who also had left the Captain's house. A smile had displaced the officer's usual harsh expression and characteristic frown.
"Be careful, young man!" said he. "Kemember what happened to your father !"
"I beg your pardon. You seem to have esteemed my father very highly. Can you tell me what has been his fate?" asked Ibarra, gazing intently into the lieutenant's eyes.
"Do you not know ?" said the officer.
"I asked Don Santiago, but he said that he would tell me nothing until to-morrow. Have you no information regarding him?"
"Why, yes; everybody knows about him. He died in prison."
The young man stepped back and stared wildly at the officer. "In prison ! Who died in prison ?" he asked in astonishment.
"Why, your father, who had been arrested," answered the officer somewhat surprised.
"What! My father in prison! Arrested and impris- oned! Man, what are you talking about? Do you know
who my father was? Are you ?" asked the young
man, nervously grasping the officer's arm.
"I don't think that I am mistaken : Don Eaf ael Ibarra."
"Yes. Don Kafael Ibarra," repeated the young man, scarcely able to utter the words.
"I thought that you knew it," said the officer, in a sym- pathetic voice, as he saw the emotion his words had caused. "I thought that you knew it; but be brave. Here, you know, no man can be honorable without being impris- oned."
"I cannot believe that you are not jesting," replied Ibarra, after a few minutes of deep silence. "Can you tell me for what offense he was imprisoned?"
The old man paused as if to meditate. "It seems strange to me that you have not been kept informed as to the affairs of your family."
18 Friars and Filipinos.'
''My fathier's last letter, whicli I received a year ago, told me not to be uneasy if he failed to write to me, for he was very busy. He advised me to continue my studies, he sent me his blessing "
"In that case, he must have written the letter to you shortly before his death. It is almost a year since we buried him in his own town.''
"Why was my father arrested?" asked Ibarra in a voice full of emotion.
"The cause of his arrest was an honorable one. I must go to my quarters now; walk along with me and then I can tell you on the way. Take my arm."
They walked for some time in melancholy silence. Deep in thought and nervously stroking his goatee, the officer sought inspiration before he could begin the pitiful tale.
"As you very well know," he at last began, "your father was the richest man in the province, and, although he was loved and highly respected by many, there were some en- vious persons who hated him. Your father had a great many enemies among the priests and the Spaniards. Some months after your departure, trouble arose between Don Rafael and Father Damaso, but I do not know what it was all about. Father Damaso accused your father of not attending confession. In former times, however, he had never attended confession. Nothing was said about it, and he and the priest were good friends, as you will re- member. Furthermore, Don -Rafael was a very honorable man and much more upright and Just than many who go to confession regularly. He was very conscientious, and, in speaking to me in regard to his troubles with Father Damaso, used to say :
" 'Senor Guevara, do you believe that God will forgive a crime, a murder for instance, simply because that crime has been confessed to a priest — confessed to a man who is in duty bound to keep it secret ? Will God pardon a man whose repentance is brought about by his cowardly fear of hell? I have a very different opinion of God. I cannot see how one evil can be corrected by another, nor how pardon can be procured by mere idle tears and donations to the Church.' Your fatjfier always followed the strictest rules of morality. I may safely say that he never harmed
Heretic and Revolutionist. 19
any one, but, on the contrary, always sought by doing good to offset certain unjust deeds committed by your grand- fathers. However, his troubles with the priests continued and took on a dangerous aspect. Father Damaso alluded to him from the pulpit, and, if he did not do so directly by name, it was an oversight on his part, for anything might be expected from a man of his character. I fore- saw that sooner or later the affair would have a bad end- ing."
The old lieutenant paused for a few minutes and then continued: "About this time there came to the province a man who had been in the artillery, but had been thrown out of the ranks on account of his brutality and igno- rance. This man had to make a livelihood. He was not allowed to engage in the work of an ordinary laborer, since that might damage Spain's prestige, but somehow ob- tained the position of collector of taxes on vehicles. He had no education whatever, and the natives soon found it out. A Spaniard who cannot read and write is a wonder to them, and hence he became the subject of all sorts of ridicule. Knowing that he was being laughed at, he be- came ashamed to collect his taxes. This had a bad effect on his character, which was already bad enough. People used to give him documents upside down to see him pretend to read them. He would make a show of doing so, and then, on the first blank space he found, would fill in some sprawling characters which, I may say, represented him very accurately. The natives continued to pay their taxes, but kept on ridiculing him. He fairly raved with anger and worked himself up to such a frame of mind that he respected none. Finally, he had some words with your father. It happened that one day, while the collector was studpng a document which had been given to him in a store, some school boys came along. One of them called the attention of his companions to the collector, and they all began to laugh and point their fingers at the unhappy man. The collector finally lost his patience, turned quick- ly and chased his tormentors. The boys, of course, ran in all directions, at the same time mimicking a child learn- ing the alphabet. Blind with rage because he could not reach them, he threw his cane, struck one of the boys on
20 Friars and Filipinos.
the Head and knocked him down. ISTot conteni with this, he went up and kicked the hoy several times. TJn- fortunately, your father happened to be passing just at the moment. Indignant at what he saw, he seized the tax collector by the arm and severely reproached him for his actions. The tax collector in anger raised his cane to strike, but your father was too quick for him. With that strength which he inherited from his forefathers, he, as some say, struck the collector, or, as others claim, only gave him a push. The fact is that the man staggered and fell to the ground, and, in falling, struck his head against a stone. Don Eafael quietly lifted up the wounded boy and carried him to the court house near by, leaving the collector where he had fallen. The ex-artilleryman began to bleed at the mouth and died without regaining consciousness.
"Nkturally the law stepped in. They showered calum- nies of all kinds upon your father and accused him of being a heretic and a revolutionist. To be a heretic is a great misfortune anywhere or at any time, but it was especially so at this particular time, for the chief magistrate of the province was the loudest prayer maker in the Church. To be a revolutionist is still worse. One might better have killed three highly educated tax collectors than be thus ac- cused. Everybody deserted your father, and his books and papers were seized. He was accused of being a subscriber to *E1 Correo del Ultramar^ and to Madrid newspapers, of having sent you to Germany, of having in his possession incriminating papers and pictures, and — ^well, I don't know what not. He was even attacked because, although he was the descendant of Spaniards, he wore the dress of the natives. If your father had been anybody else, he would have been acquitted, for the doctors pronounced the death of the collector due to natural causes. His fortune, however, his confidence in the law, and his hatred for everything which seemed unlawful and unjust, cost him his life. I myself, much as I dislike hedging for mercy, called upon the Governor General, the predecessor of the present Governor. I brought out the fact that a man who aided every poor Spaniard, who gave food and shelter to all, and whose veins were filled with the generous blood
Heretic and Revolutionist. 21
of Spain — such a man could not be a revolutionist. In vain I argued for him, pledged my own life for him, and swore by my military honor. What did it all amount to? I was badly received, curtly and summarily dismissed, and called a fool/'
The old man paused to take breath. His young com- panion neither looked up nor made a sound. The narra- tor proceeded : "I took charge of the case for your father. I called upon the celebrated Filipino lawyer, young
A a, but he refused to undertake the defense. 'I would
lose the case,' he said, 'my defense would cause new accusa- tions against him, and perhaps bring them upon me. Go and see Senor M , who is an eloquent orator, a Span- iard and a man of great reputation.' I did so, and the celebrated lawyer took charge of the case, which he con- ducted in a masterful and brilliant manner. But youn father had many enemies, some of whom did their work secretly. There were many false witnesses in the case, and their calumnies, which anywhere else would have been overthrown by a single sarcastic phrase from the defend- ing attorney, were here given a great deal of weight. As fast as the attorney proved the falsity of their accusa- tions, new charges were brought forward. They accused him of having wrongfully taken possession of a large tract of land. They sued him for damages and for injuries caused. They said that he had dealings with the organized bandits or tulisanes, and that thus he had been able to keep his property unmolested. In fact, the case became so complicated that within a year no one understood it. The chief magistrate was called away from his post and replaced by another of good reputation, but unfortunately this magistrate, too, was displaced in a few months.
"The sufferings, disappointments and discomforts of prison life, and his great grief at seeing the ingratitude of so many supposed friends, finally broke down your father's iron constitution and he became fatally ill. When it was all over; when he had proved himself not guilty of being an enemy to his country, and innocent of the death of the tax collector, he died in prison, with no one to care for him in his last hours. I arrived just as he was expiring."
.The old man had finished all he had to say. Ibarra,
22 Friars and Filipinos.
overcome witK grief at the pathetic story He had heard, could not utter a word. The two had arrived at the gate of the barracks. Stopping and shaking hands with the young man, the officer said : "My boy. Captain Tiago can give you the details. I must say good night, for my duty calls me.^' With deep emotion, Ibarra grasped the lean hand of the lieutenant, and then looked after him in si- lence until he disappeared in the building. Turning slow- ly about, he saw a carriage passing and made a sign to the cabman.
"Lala's Hotel,'^ he said in a low voice.
"This fellow is just out of jail,^' said the cabman to himself as he whipped up his horses.
Captain Tiago. 23
CHAPTER IV.
CAPTAIN- TIAGO.
Captain Tiago was short in stature, but both his body and his face were well filled out. His complexion was clear and he did not appear to be more than thirty or thirty-five years old, although he was really more than that. In these times his face always wore a pleasant ex- pression. His head was small, round and covered with hair as black as ebony, long in front and very short behind. This head, according to reports, contained a great many things. His eyes were small but not terrifying, and always without expression. In short, the Captain might have passed for a good-looking little man, if his mouth had not been disfigured by the use of tobacco and the betel nut, the juices of which trickled out of the comers of his lips and destroyed the symmetry of his features. However, despite these habits, both his own teeth and the two that the den- tist had made for him, at twelve pesos each, were well pre- served.
Tiago was considered one of the richest property own- ers in Binondo, and he also owned large plantations in the provinces of Pampanga and Laguna de Bay, especially in the town of San Diego. The rent of all these lands in- creased every yean San Diego was his favorite town on account of its excellent bathing place, its famous cock- pit and the pleasant memories associated with the neigh- borhood. He spent at least two months in this town every year. Captain Tiago also had a great deal of property in Santo Cristo, in Analoague Street and in Rosario Street. In partnership with a Chinaman he carried on a profitable business in opium. It is understood that he had contracts with the Government for feeding the prisoners in Bilibid and that he supplied fodder to many of the principal houses in Manila. He was in good standing with the authorities.
24 Friars and Filipinos.
able, clevef, and even daring in his speculations in the necessities of others. Hence it was that at this time the Captain was as happy as a narrow-minded man could be in such a country. He was rich, and was at peace with God, the Government and man.
That Tiago was at peace with God was indisputable. In fact, there was no reason whatever for his not being so, since he was well situated as far as worldly matters go and had never loaned God any money. He never addressed God in his prayers, not even when he was in dire straits. He was rich, and his money, he thought, could pray for him. For masses and prayers, God had created powerful and lofty priests; for special religious functions and ro- saries, God, in His infinite goodness, for the benefit of the rich, had created poor people — poor people who for a peso would make half a dozen prayers, and would read all the Holy Books, even to the Hebrew Bible, if the pay were large enough.- If at any time he found himself in hard straits and needed heavenly aid and was out of red Chinese candles, he applied to the saints, making them great prom- ises in order to win their favor and convince them of his good intentions.
Captain Tiago was therefore beloved by the priests, re- spected by the sacristans, fondled by the Chinese candle- makers and fire-cracker merchants, and thoroughly happy in the religion of the world. Some even attributed to him great influence in the ecclesiastical court.
That the Captain was at peace with the Government must not be doubted simply because such a thing seems impossible. Incapable of conceiving a new idea and con- tent with the modus vivendi, he was always willing to obey the latest official recruit in any of the Government offices and even ready to give him at all times of the year such presents as hams, capons, turkeys, and Chinese fruit. He was the first to applaud any tax imposed by the Govern- ment, especially when he scented behind it a chance of securing the contract for its collection. He always kept orchestras on hand to serenade Government officials of all grades from governor to the lowest Government agent, on their birthdays, saint^s days, or when any occasion, such as the death of any of their relatives, or a birth in the
Captain Tiago. 25
family connection should afford a pretext. He even went so far as to dedicate laudatory verses to his royal patrons on these occasions, thus honoring the *^suave and loving governor'' or the "valiant and mighty alcalde."
The Captain was a petty governor or gohernadorcillo of a rich colony of mestizos, in spite of the protests of many who considered him unfit for the position. He held the office for two years, but during this time he wore out ten frock coats, about the same number of high hats, and lost more than a half dozen of gohernadorcillo canes. His high hat and frock coat were always in evidence in the city hall, at the Government palace in Melacanan* and at the army headquarters, and they always appeared, too, in the cock-pit, in the market, in all processions, and in the Chinese shops. Dressed in this official costume with the tasseled cane. Captain Tiago was to be found everywhere, arranging, ordering, and putting in disorder, everything with which he had anything to do — and all with wonder- ful activity and with still more wonderful gravity.
Sacrilegious people called him a fool ; poor people called him a hypocrite, a cruel man who gained a livelihood by making others miserable; while his inferiors looked upon him as a despot and a tyrant. And the women? Ah, the women! Slanderous rumors circulated in the wretched nipa houses, and it was claimed that often lamentations and sobs, mingled with the cries of a child, could be heard. More than one young girl was pointed out by the malicious finger of the neighbors, with the remark: "See what a different expression she wears, and how plainly she shows evidences of her shame." But such things as these never robbed the Captain of any sleep; no young girl disturbed his rest.
Such was the Captain at that time. His past history was as follows: He was the only son of a very wealthy but avaricious sugar manufacturer of Malabon, who was unwilling to spend a cent in his education. For this reason young Santiago became the servant of a good Dominican, a very virtuous man, who tried to teach him all the valu- able knowledge which he possessed. About the time when he was to have the happiness of studying logic, the death
* Street in Manila.
26 Friars and Filipinos.
of his protector, followed by that of his father, put an end to his studies and from that time on he devoted him- self to business. He married a beautiful girl from Santa Cruz, who increased his fortune and gave him a social position.
Dona Pia Alba was not content with buying sugar, cof- fee and indigo; she wished to sow and reap, so the young husband bought lands in San Diego. It was in this town that he made the acquaintance and friendship of Father Damaso and of Don Eafael Ibarra, the richest capitalist of the town.
The lack of an heir for the first six years of his married life gave him a great opportunity to accumulate wealth, which perhaps was a censurable ambition. Although Dona Pia was handsome, robust and well formed, she made her pilgrimages in vain. By advice of the devotees of San Diego, she visited the Virgin of Cayasay in Taal; she gave alms, and she danced in the procession before the Virgin of Turumba in Pakil under the May sun, but it was all in vain. Finally, on the advice of Father Damaso, she went to Obando, and there danced at the -fiesta of San Pascual Bailon and asked for a son. It is well known that in Obando there is a trinity — Our Lady of Salambau, Santa Clara and San Pascual — which grants sons or daughters as required. Thanks to this wise triumvirate. Dona Pia became a mother, but like the fisherman in Mac- beth, who ceased to sing after he found a rich treasure. Dona Pia lost her gayety, became very sad and was never seen to smile again. Every one, even to Captain Tiago, declared that it was a pure caprice. A puerperal fever put an end to her grief, leaving a beautiful daughter motherless. Father Damaso baptized the child, and, as San Pascual had not given the son which had been asked for, the name of Maria Clara was given to it in honor of the Virgin of Salambau and of Santa Clara. The little girl grew up under the care of her aunt Isabel, — ^that good old lady with the manners of a friar whom we met before. The little girl lived the greater part of the time in San Diego on account of the healthful climate, and while there Father Ddmaso paid her much attention.
Maria Clara did not have the small eyes of her father.
Captain Tiago. 27
Like Her motHer, her eyes were large, black and shaded by long lashes, brilliant and smiling when she was playing, but sad, deep and pensive at other times. When a child her wavy hair was almost blond. Her nose was well formed, neither too large nor too flat. Her mouth was small and beautifully shaped like that of her mother, and her cheeks were set with dimples. Her skin was like silk and as white as snow, but her fond parent found traces of the paternity of Captain Tiago in her small and well shaped ears.
Aunt Isabel attributed the child's semi-European fea- tures to impressions made upon Dona Pia. She remem- bered having seen the mother a short time before the child was bom, weeping before the image of San Antonio. Then, too, a cousin of Captain Tiago had the same features, the only difference being in the choice of the saints, by which the phenomenon was explained. With her it was either the Virgin or San Miguel. A cousin of Captain Tiago, a famous philosopher, who knew Amat* by heart, explained it all by attributing it to the effect of the planets.
Maria Clara, the idol of all, grew up surrounded by love and smiles. She won the favor of even the friars when she was dressed in white for some religious procession, her long, wavy hair interwoven with flowers, two silver or golden wings attached to the shoulders of her dress, and holding two white doves, tied with blue ribbons, in her hand. When she grew up, she was so full of childish mis- chief that Captain Tiago did nothing but bless the saints of Obando and advise everybody to buy handsome statues of that trinity.
In tropical countries a girl becomes a woman at the age of thirteen or fourteen years, like the plant which buds at night and blooms the following morning. During this period of transition, so full of mystery and romance, on the advice of the parish priest, Maria Clara entered the religious retreat of Santa Catalina in order to receive from the nuns a strictly religious education. She left Father Ddmaso in tears, and likewise the only friend of her childhood, Crisostomo Ibarra. Shortly after the en- trance to the convent, Ibarra went to Europe. For seven
* Archbishop and author of theological works.
28 Friars and Filipinos.
long years, tHe girl lived under the vigilance of the Mother Superior in the iron-grated building, shut off from any communication with the outer world.
Don Eafael and Captain Tiago, in the meantime, while Ibarra was in Europe and Maria Clara in the convent, noticing the trend of affairs, and at the same time having in mind their own interests, decided that the children should be married. It is needless to say that this agree- ment, which was arrived at some years after Ibarra had left for Europe, was celebrated with equal joy by two hearts, on opposite sides of the world and amid very dif- ferent surroundings.
An Idyl on the Azotea. 29
CHAPTER y.
AN IDYL ON THE AZOTEA.*
On the morning after the dinner party, 'Annt Isabel and Maria Clara went to mass early: the former care- fully carrying her glasses, so that she might be able to read **The Anchor of Salvation'' during communion; the latter beautifully dressed, carrying her rosary of blue beads as a bracelet. The priest had scarcely left the altar when, to the disgust and surprise of her good aunt, who thought that her niece was as pious and as fond of prayer as a nun, the young girl desired to go home. After a great deal of grumbling, the old lady crossed herself several times, and the two arose to leave. **Never mind," said Maria, to cut off the scolding, "the good God will pardon me. He ought to understand the heart of a girl better than you. Aunt Isabel."
Aiter breakfast, Maria Clara occupied herself with some embroidery while her aunt bustled about with a duster removing the traces of the social event of the preceding evening. Captain Tiago was busy examining some papers.
Every noise in the street and every passing carriage made the girl tremble with anxiety and wish that she were again back in the convent among her friends. There, she thought, she could see him without trembling and with perfect equanimity.
*'I believe, Maria, that the doctor is right," said Cap- tain Tiago. ^^ou ought to go to the provinces. You are looking very pale and need a change of air. How does Malabon strike you, or San Diego?"
At the mere mention of the latter name, Maria Clara blushed and was unable to speak.
''Now, you and Isabel go to the convent to get your * Roof of the first story used as a veranda.
30 Friars and Filipinos.
'V,
things and say good bye to your friends," continued tHe Captain, without raising his head. "You will not re- turn there. And in four or five days, when your clothes are ready we shall go to Malabon. — Your godfather, by the way, is not in San Diego at present. The priest whom you saw here last night, that young fellow, is now the priest in the town. He is a saint."
"I think you will find San Diego better, cousin," said Aunt Isabel. "Our house there is better than the one in Malabon, and besides, it is nearly time for the fiesta to take place."
Maria Clara was about to embrace her aunt for these welcome words, but just then a carriage stopped in front of the house and the young girl suddenly turned pale.
"That's so," said the Captain, and then, in a changed tone, exclaimed, "Don Crisostomo!"
Maria Clara let fall the work which she was holding in her hands. A nervous trembling passed over her. Then steps were heard on the stairs and presently a young, manly voice. And, as if this voice had some magic power, the girl shook off her emotion, started to run, and hid herself in the oratory. Both father and aunt had to laugh at this, and even Ibarra heard the closing of the door behind her.
Pale and panting, the girl finally subdued her emo- tion and began to listen. She could hear his voice, that voice which for so long a time she had heard only in her dreams. Beside herself with joy, she kissed the nearest saint, which, by the way, happened to be San Antonio, the abbot. Happy saint! Whether alive or carved in wood, always tempted in the most charming manner! Becoming quite herself again, she looked about for some crack through which she might get a peep at the young man. Finally, when he came in range of the key-hole and she again saw his fine features, her face beamed with smiles. In fact, the sight filled her with such joy that when her aunt came to call her, Maria Clara fell on the old lady's neck and kissed her repeatedly.
'*You goose! What is the matter with you?" the old lady was finally able to ask, after wiping away her tears.
An Idyl on the Azotea. 31
Maria Clara, in her modesty, covered her face with her round arm.
'^Come! Hurry up and get yourself ready I" said the old lady in an affectionate tone. "While he is talking
with your father about you Come, do not waste
time!"
The girl did not respond, but allowed herself to be picked up like a child and carried to her room.
Captain Tiago and Ibarra were talking earnestly when at last Aunt Isabel appeared, half dragging her niece by the hand. At first the girl looked in every di- rection but at the persons present. At last, however, her eyes met Ibarra's.
The conversation of the young lovers was at first con- fined to the usual trifling remarks, those pleasant little things which, like the boasts of European nations, are enjoyable and interesting to those who are concerned and understand them, but ridiculous to outsiders.
Finally, she, like all sisters of Cain, was moved by jealously and asked: "Have you always thought of me? Have you never forgotten me in your many travels among so many great cities and among such beautiful women ?"
And he, a true brother of Cain, dodged the issue, and, being something of a diplomat, answered: ^'Could I forget you?'* And then, gazing into her deep, dark eyes, "Could I break a sacred vow? Do you remember that stormy night when you, seeing me in tears beside my dead mother, came to me and placed your hand — that hand which I have not touched for so long — upon my shoulder, and said: TTou have lost your mother, — I never had one.' And then you wept with me. You loved my mother, and she loved you as only a mother can love a daughter. It was raining then, you will remember, and the lightning flashed, but I seemed to hear music and to see a smile on the face of my dead mother. — 0, if my parents were only living and could see you now! — That night I took your hand and, joining it with my mother's, I swore always to love you and make you happy, no mat- ter what fate Heaven might have in store for me. I have never regretted that vow, and now renew it/'
32" Friars and Filipinos.
^'Since the day that I bade you good-bye and entered the convent/' she answered, smiling, '"'I have always remembered you, and have never forgotten you in spite of the commands of my confessor, who imposed severe penances on me. I remembered the little games we used to play together and our little quarrels. When we were children you used to find in the river the most beautiful shells for our games of sihlot and the finest and most oeautifully colored stones for our game of sinkat. You were always very slow and stupid and lost, but you al- ways paid the forfeit, which I gave you with the palm of my hand. But I always tried to strike lightly, for I was sorry for you. You always cheated, even more than I, in the game of chouka and we generally quarrelled over it. Do you remember that time when you really became angry? Then you made me suffer, but when I found that I had no one to quarrel with, we made peace immediately. We were still children when we went with your mother one day to bathe in the stream under the shade of the reeds. Many flowers and plants grew on the bank of the river, and you used to tell me their strange Latin and Spanish names, for you were then studying at the Athenaeum. I paid little attention, but amused myself by chasing butterflies and in trying to catch the little fish which slipped away from me so easily among the rocks and weeds of the shore. You sud- denly disappeared from sight, but when you returned you brought a wreath of orange flowers and placed it on my head. On our way home, as the sun was hot, I col- lected some sage leaves from the side of the road for you to put into your hat and thus prevent headache. Then you laughed, we made up, and came the remain- der of the way home hand in hand.''
Ibarra smiled as he listened attentively to every de- tail of the story. Opening his pocket book, he took out a paper in which he had wrapped some withered but fragrant sage leaves. "Your sage leaves," said he in an- swer to her questioning glance. "The only thing you have ever given me."
She, in turn, drew a little, white satin bag from the bosom of her dress. "Stop!" she said, tapping his hand
An Idyl on the Azotea. 33
witH her own. ^TTou must not touch it; it is a letter of farewell."
^^The one that I wrote you before leaving?"
"My dear sir, have you ever written any other?"
"And what did I say then?"
"Many falsehoods; excuses of a bad debtor," replied she, smiling and showing how agreeable these false- hoods had been to her. "But be quiet! I will read it to you, but I will omit your polite speeches out of con- sideration for your feelings."
Eaising the paper to the height of her eyes, in order
to conceal her face, she began. " *My ,' I shall
not read you what follows that, for it is not true." She ran her eyes over some lines and began to read again: " 'My father wishes me to go away, in spite of my en- treaties. He says that I am a man and must think of my future and my duty; that I must learn how to live, which I cannot do in my own country, so that in the future I may be of some use. He says that if I remain at his side, in his shadow, in this atmosphere of busi- ness, I will never learn how to look ahead, and that when he is gone, I shall be like the plant of which our poet Baltazar speaks — as it always lives in the water, it never learns how to endure a moment's heat. — He reproached me because I wept, and his reproach hurt me so that I confessed that I loved you. My father stopped, thought a moment and, placing his hand on my shoulder, said in a trembling voice: "Do you think that you alone know how to love, that your father does not love you, and that his heart is not pained at being separated from you? It is a short time since your mother died, and I am al- ready reaching that age when the help and counsel of youth are needed. And yet I consent to your going, not even knowing that I shall ever see you again. The fu- ture is opening to you, but closing to me. Your loves are being bom; mine are dying. Fire blazes in your blood, but cold is gradually finding its way into mine. And yet you weep, and are not willing to sacrifice the present for a future useful to yourself and your country." The eyes of my father filled with tears and I fell upon my
34 Friars and Filipinos.
knees ai His feet and embraced him. I asked His pardon and said that I was willing to go/ ''
The emotion which Ibarra manifested pnt an end to the reading. As pale as death, he arose and began to walk nervously from one side to the other.
**What is the matter?" she asked.
"You have made me forget that I have duties to per- form, and that I ought to leave immediately for my town. To-morrow is the fiesta in memory of the dead.'*
Maria Clara stopped and silently fixed her large and dreamy eyes upon him for some minutes. Then taking some flowers from a vase near by, she said with emotion: "Go! I do not wish to detain you. We shall see each other again in a few days. Place these flowers on the graves of your father and mother."
A few moments later, Ibarra descended the stairs, ac- companied by Captain Tiago and Dona Isabel, while Maria Clara locked herself up in the oratory.
"Do me the favor to tell Andeng to get the house ready, and that Maria and Isabel are coming. A pleasant journey!" While the Captain was saying this, Ibarra got into the carriage and drove off in the direction of the Plaza of San Gabriel.
A few minutes later the Captain shouted to Maria Clara, who was weeping by the side of the image of the Virgin: "Hurry up and light two peseta candles in honor of San Roque and another in honor of San Rafael, the patron saint of travellers. And light the lamp of Our Lady of Peace and Protector of Travellers, for there are many bandits about. It is better to spend four reales for wax and six cuartos for oil than to have to pay a big ransom later, on."
Things Philippine. 35
CHAPTER yi.
THINGS PHILIPPINE.
Father Damaso drove up in front oi Captain Tiago's house and the Franciscan stepped to the ground just as Aunt Isabel and Maria Clara were getting into their silver- trimmed carriage. They saluted Father Damaso, and he, in his preoccupation, gently patted Maria Clara on the cheek.
"Where are you going?" the friar asked.
"To the convent to get my things/' replied the younger.
"Ah, ha ! Ah, ha ! We'll see who is the stronger. We'll see!" he muttered and turaed away, leaving the two women in wonder as to what it all meant. The friar stepped along lightly, and reaching the stairs, went up.
"He must be studying his sermon," said Isabel. "Get in, Maria ; we shall be late."
Whether Father Damaso was studying his sermon or not we cannot say. At any rate, he was absorbed in some important matter, for he even forgot to extend his hand to Captain Tiago upon entering, greatly to the embarrass- ment of the Captain, who had to feign kissing it.
"Santiago, we have some very important matters to talk over; let us go to your office."
The Captain, somewhat disturbed, was unable to reply, but he obeyed and followed the big priest into his office. Father Damaso shut the door behind them.
While they are conferring in secret, let us find out what has become of Brother Sibyla. The wise Dominican was not to be found at his parochial residence, for early, im- mediately after mass, he had gone to the Dominican con- vent, situated near the gate called Isabel the Second or Magallanes, according to which family is in power in Madrid. Paying no attention to the delicious odor of chocolate or to the rattling of money boxes and coins in
36 Friars and Filipinos.
the treasurer's office, and scarcely answering the defer- ential salute of the treasurer, Father Sibyla went upstairs, crossed several corridors and rapped on a door.
"Come in V answered a voice.
"May God give back health to Your Eeverence!" was the greeting of the young Dominican as he entered.
A very feeble old priest was seated in a large arm-chair. His complexion was as yellow as the saints which Kevera paints; his eyes were sunk deep in their orbits, and his heavy eyebrows, which were nearly always knit in a frown, added to the brilliant glare of his death-foreboding eyes.
"I have come to talk to you about the charge with which you have entrusted me," said Father Siblya.
*^Ah, yes. And what about it?"
"Pshaw!" answered the young man with disgust, seat- ing himself and turning his face away with disdain. "They have been telling us a lot of lies. Young Ibarra is a prudent boy. He does not seem to be a fool. I think he is a pretty good sort of a chap."
"Do you think so ?"
"Hostilities began last night.''
"So soon ? And how did it come about ?'*
Father Sibyla related briefly what had taken place be- tween Father Damaso and Crisostomo Ibarra.
"Furthermore," he added, in conclusion, "the young man is going to marry that daughter of Captain Tiago, who was educated in the college of our sisters. He is rich and would not want to make any enemies who might cause the loss of his happiness and his fortune."
The sick man bowed his head as a sign of assent. 'TTes, that is my opinion. With such a wife and such a father- in-law we can hold him body and soul. And if not, it will be all the better for us if he declares himself our enemy."
Father Sibyla looked at the old man with surprise.
"That is to say, for the good of our whole corporation,'* he added, breathing with difficulty. "I prefer open attacks to the foolish praise and adulations of friends, for, the truth is, flattery is always paid for."
"Does Your Reverence think so ?"
The old man looked at him sadly. "Always bear this in mind," he answered, panting with fatigue, *^that ouc
Things Philippine. 37
power will endure as long as it is believed in. If they attack ns, the Government says, ^They attack them, be- cause they see in them an obstacle to their liberty, there- fore let us preserve them/ '^
"And if the Government gives them a hearing ?. Some- times the Government "
"The Government will do no such thing/^
"Nevertheless, if some bold and reckless man, impelled by covetousness, should dare to think that he wanted our possessions ^*
"Then, woe to him !"
For a moment both remained silent.
"Furthermore,'' continued the sick man, "it will do us good to have them attack us and wake us up. It would show us our weaknesses and strengthen us. The exagger- ated praises which we get deceive us, and put us asleep. We are becoming ridiculous and on the day that we become ridiculous we shall fall as we fell in Europe. Money will no longer flow into our churches, no one will longer buy our scapularies or girdles, and when we cease to be rich we shall no longer possess the great influence which we wield at present."
"Pshaw ! We shall always have our property, our plan- tations ''
"We shall lose them all as we lost them in Europe. And the worst of it is that we are working for our own ruin. For instance, this immeasurable ambition to raise the in- comes from our lands each year, this eagerness to increase the rents, which I have always opposed in vain, this eager- ness will be our ruin. The natives already find them- selves forced to buy land in other localities if they want lands as good as ours. I fear that we are degenerating. 'Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad.' For this reason we should not.be too hard on the people, for they are already grumbling under our exactions. You have considered well. Let us leave this thing to others, and keep up the prestige which we have and let us en- deavor to appear before God with clean hands. May the God of pity have mercy on our weaknesses !" ■ "So you believe that the tax or tribute ^"
*'Let us talk no more of money!" interrupted the sick
38 Friars and Filipinos.
man witH disgust. *^You were saying that the lieutenant and Father Damaso last night ''
'TTes, Father/^ answered the young priest smiling. "But this morning I saw the lieutenant again and he told me that he was sorry for what had occurred at the dinner. He said he thought that he had been affected by too much wine and that the same was true of Father Damaso. *^And your boast to tell the Governor?' I asked jokingly. 'Father/ he answered, *I know when to make my word good so long as it does not stain my honor. That is just the reason why I wear only two stars.' "
After talking over several minor matters. Father Sibyla took his leave.
As a matter of fact the lieutenant had not gone to the Governor General's palace in Melacanan with any report in regard to the occurrence of the preceding evening. How- ever, the Governor General had learned of it through an- other source, and discussing the matter with one of his aides, he said :
"A woman and a priest can give no offense. I intend to live peaceably while I remain in this country and I do not wish to have any trouble with men who wear skirts. And, furthermore, I have found out that the Father Pro- vincial has evaded my orders in this matter. I asked for the removal of that friar as a punishment. What was done ? They removed him, but they gave him another and much better town. 'Tricks of the friars,' as they say in Spain."
But when His Excellency found himself alone he ceased to smile. ''Ah!" he sighed, "if the people were not so stupid they would put a limit to their reverences. But every people deserves its fate, and we are no different in this respect from the rest of the world."
Meanwhile Captain Tiago had concluded his conference with Father Damaso, or rather Father Damaso had con- cluded it.
"I have already warned you!" said the Franciscan on taking his leave. "You could have avoided all of this had you consulted with me before, and, if you had not lied to me, when I asked you about it. See to it that you do not
Things Philippine. 39
do any more such foolish things, and have faith in your godfather."
Captain Tiago took two or three steps towards the sola, meditating and sighing. All at once, as if some good idea had struck him, he ran to the oratory and put out the candles and the lamps which had been lighted for Ibarra's protection.
"There is still time enough," he murmured, "for he has a long road to travel."
40 Friars and Filipinos.
CHAPTEE YIL
SAN" DIEGO AND ITS PEOPLE.
Not far from the shores of the Laguna de Bay lies the town of San Diego, surrounded by fertile fields and rice plantations. It exports sugar, rice, coffee, and fruits, or sells them at ridiculously low prices to the Chinese, who make large profits out of the credulity and vices of the laborers.
When the sky was serene and the atmosphere clear, the boys used to climb to the very peak of the old moss and vine covered church tower. And what exclamations the;^ would utter when, from that high pinnacle, they looked out at the beautiful panorama that surrounded them. There before them lay a great mass of roofs, some nipa, some thatch, some zinc and some made out of the native grasses. And out of that mass, which here and there gave way to an orchard or a garden, every one of those boys could find his own little home, his own little nest. To them everything was a landmark; every tamarind tree with its light foliage, every cocoanut tree with its load of nuts, every bending cane, every hong a tree, every cross. Beyond the town is the crystal river, like a serpent asleep on a carpet ot grppjv^ Here and there, its tranquil surface is broken by rocks projecting from its sandy bottom. In places, it is hemmed in between two high banks, and there the rapidly rushing waters turn and twist the half-bared roots of the overhanging shade trees. But further on it spreads itself out again and becomes calm and peaceful.
But what always attracts attention is a peninsula •i forest projecting into this sea of cultivated land. There can be found hollow-trunked trees, a century old, trees which die only when struck by lightning and set on fire. They say, also, that even in that case the fire never spreads to any other tree. This old grove is held in a certain de- gree of awe, for around it have been woven many strange
San Diego and the People. 41
legends. Of these the most probable, and consequently ' the least known and believed is the following:
When the town was still a miserable group of huts, when weeds grew in abundance in the so-called streets, and deer and wild boar roamed about at night, there arrived one day an old Spaniard. His eyes were deep and thoughtful and he spoke Tagalog fluently. After visiting the difierent estates and peddling out some goods he inquired for the owners of this grove, which by the way, also contained several hot water springs. A number of persons claiming to be the owners presented themselves, and the old man purchased from them the grove, paying in exchange some money, jewelry and clothing. A short time afterward he disappeared, no one knew where.
His sudden disappearance made the people think for a time that he had been spirited away, but later on a fetid odor was noticeable near the grove, and some shepherds, upon investigation, found the body of the old man in a badly decomposed condition hanging from the limb of a haliti tree. When alive the old man had terrorized many by his deep and resonant voice, his sunken eyes and his silent laugh, but now that he was dead, and a suicide at that, the mere mention of his name gave the town women nightmare. Some of them threw the jewelry that they had bought from him into the river and burned all the clothing, and, for a long time after the body had been buried at the foot of the baliti tree, no one cared to ven- ture near it. All sort of stories became current about the haunted place.
A shepherd, looking for his flock, said that he had seen lights in the grove. A party of young men, passing near the place, heard groans and lamentations. An unfortunate lover, in order to make an impression on the disdainful object of his affections, promised to spend a night under the tree and to bring her a branch from its trunk, but on the next day he was taken ill with a quick fever and died.
Before many months had passed, a youth came to the town one day. He was apparently a Spanish mestizo, de- clared himself the son of the dead stranger, and estab- lished himself in that far-off corner of the world. He be- gan to farm the land and devoted himself especially if
42 Friars and Filipinos.
the cultivation of indigo. Don Saturnino was a taciturn young man, violent and sometimes cruel, but very active and industrious. He built a wall around his father's grave and, from time to time, went all alone to visit it. A few years later he married a young girl from Manila who bore him a son, Rafael, the father of Crisostomo.
Don Rafael, from his earliest youth, was fond of farm- ing. Under his care, the agriculture which had been started and fostered by his father was rapidly developed. New inhabitants flocked to the vicinity, and among them were a great many Chinese. The village grew very fast and was soon supporting a native priest. After it had be- come a puehlo, the native priest died and Fathei: Damaso took his place.
Still the grave and the adjoining lands were respected. At times, children, armed with sticks and stones, ven- tured to wander about, exploring the surrounding country and gathering guayabas, papays, lomboy and other native fruits. Then, all of a sudden, while they were busily en- gaged collecting the fruits, some one would catch a glimpse of the old rope hanging from the haliti tree, and stones would be heard to fall. Then some one would cry, "The old man!" "The old man!" Dropping fruit, sticks and stones, and leaping from the trees, the boys would flee in all directions through the thickets and between the rocks, not stopping until they emerged from the grove, pale and panting, some laughing, some crying.
You could not say that Don Rafael, while alive, was the most influential man in San Diego, although it is true that he was the richest, owned the most land, and had put almost everybody else under obligations to him. He was modest and always belittled his own deeds. He never tried to form a party of his own, and, as we have already seen, no one came to his aid when his fortune seemed to fail him.
Whenever Captain Tiago arrived in town, his debtors received him with an orchestra, gave him a banquet, and loaded him down with gifts. If a deer or a wild boar was caught he always had a quarter of it for his own table ; if any of his debtors found a beautiful horse, within a half hour it would be in the Captain's stable. All of this is
San Diego and the People. 43
true, but still when the Captain had his back turned they made fun of him and referred to him as Sacristan Tiago.
The gobernadorcillo * was an unhappy fellow who never commanded but always obeyed; he never attacked any one, but was always attacked; he never ordered anybody, but everybody ordered him; and besides, he had to take the responsibility for everything that they had commanded, ordered or disposed. The position had cost him five thou- sand pesos and many humiliations, bu.t, considering the profits he made, the price was very cheap.
San Diego was like Home ; not the Kome of the time of Romulus, when he marked out the walls with a plough, nor when, later, he bathed in his own blood and that of others and dictated laws to the world: no, San Diego was like the Rome of contemporaneous history, with this dif- ference— instead of being a city of marble, monuments and coliseums, it was a city of saiuzlif and cock-pits. The parochial priest of San Diego corresponded to the Pope in the Vatican; -the alferez\ of the Civil Guard to the King of Italy in the Quirinal, but both in the same proportion as the sauali or native wood and the nipa cock-pits corre- sponded to the monuments of marble and coliseums. And in San Diego, as in Rome, there was continual trouble. Everybody wanted to be the leading senor, and there was always some one else in the way. Let us describe two of these ambitious citizens.
Friar Bemando Salvi was the young and silent Fran- ciscan whom we mentioned in a preceding chapter. He had even more of the customs and manners of his brother- hood than had his predecessor, the violent Father Damaso. He was slender, sickly, almost always pensive, and verj* strict in the fulfillment of his religious duties as well as very careful of his good name. A month after his arrival in the parish almost all the inhabitants became brothers of the "Venerable Third Order," to the great grief of its rival, "The Brotherhood of the Most Sacred Rosary." His heart leaped with joy at seeing on every neck in the town
* Petty governor, the highest local official.
t Trellis work made of reeds .
% Local commaiider of the Civil Guard,
44 Friars and Filipinos.
from four to five scapularies, a knotted cord around every waist, and every funeral procession dressed in habits of guingon. The sacristan mayor or head warden of the order made quite a little capital by selling and giving away all those things considered necessary to save the soul and overcome the devil.
The only enemy of this powerful soul saver, with ten- dencies in accord with the times, was, as we have already stated, the alferez. The women relate a story of how the devil tried one day to tempt Father Salvi and how the latter caught him, tied him to the bed post, whipped him with a lash and kept him tied fast for nine days. Thus he had been able to conquer the devil entirely. As a result, any one who persisted in being an enemy of the priest was generally considered a worse man than the devil himself — an honor which the alferez alone enjoyed. But he merited this reputation. He had a wife, an old, powdered and painted Filipino by the name of Dona Consolacion. The husband and several other people called her by a different name, but that does not matter. Anyway, the alferez was accustomed to drown the sorrows of unhappy wedlock by getting as drunk as a toper. Then, when he was thorough- ly intoxicated he would order his men to drill in the sun, he himself remaining in the shade, or, perhaps, he would occupy himself in beating his wife.
When her husband was dead drunk, or was snoring away in a siesta, and Dona Consolacion could not fight with him, then, wearing a blue flannel shirt, she would seat her- self in the window, with a cigar in her mouth. She had a dislike of children and so from her window she would scowl and make faces at every girl that passed. The girls, on the other hand, were afraid of her, and would hurry by at a quick pace, never daring to raise their eyes or draw a breath. But say what you may, Dona Consolacion had one great virtue; she was never known to look into a mirror.
These were the leading people of San Diego.
Toward the west of San Diego, surrounded by rice fields, lies a village of the dead. A single, narrow path, dusty on dry days, and navigable by boats when it rains, leads thither from the town. A wooden gate, and a fence.
San Diego and the People. 45
iialf stone and half bamboo, seem to separate the cemetery from the people in the town, but not from the goats and sheep of the parochial priest of the immediate vicinity. These animals go in and out to rummage among the tombs or to make that solitary place glad with their presence.
One day a little old man entered the cemetery, his eyes sparkling and his head uncovered. Upon seeing him, many laughed, while a number of the women knit their eyebrows in scorn. The old man seemed to take no notice of these manifestations, but went directly toward a pile of skulls, knelt down and began to search among the bones. After he had sorted over with considerable care the skulls one by one, he drew his eyebrows together, as though he did not find what he was looking for, moved his head from side to side, looked in all directions, and finally got up and went over toward a grave-digger.
"Eh, there !" he shouted to him.
The grave-digger raised his head.
^'Do you know where that beautiful skull is, the one white as the meat of a cocoanut, with a complete set of teeth, which I had over there at the foot of the cross under those leaves?"
The grave-digger shrugged his shoulders.
"Look you!" added the little old man, bringing out of his pocket a handful of silver. "I have more than that, but I will give it to you if you find the skull for me."
The glitter of the coin made the grave-digger reflect. He looked over in the direction of the bone pile and said : "Isn't it over there? No? Then I don't know where it is."
"Don't you know? When my debtors pay me, I will give you more," continued the old man. "It was my wife's skull, and if you find it for me ^"
"Isn't it there. Then I don't know where it is," re- peated the grave-digger with emphasis. "But I will give you another."
"You are like the grave that you are digging," cried the old man irritably. "You don't know the value of what you lose. For whom is this grave?"
"For a dead person, of course/' replied the bad-humored man.
46 Friars and Filipinos.
'Tjike a tomb! Like a tomb!" repeated tHe old man dryly. "You don't know what you throw out nor what you swallow. Dig ! dig !"
At this the old man, who was Tasio, the village phi- losopher, turned and started toward the gate.
In the meantime, the grave-digger had finished his job, and two little mounds of fresh, red clay were piled on either side of the grave. He took some betel nut out of his broad-brimmed hat, and began to chew away, looking with an air of stupidity at eve^hing within his horizon.
Ibarra and the Grave-Digger. 47
CHAPTER VIII.
IBAREA AND THE GRAVE-DIGGER.
Just as the old man was leaving the cemetery, a car- riage stopped at the entrance. It looked as though it had made a long journey; the horses were sweating and the vehicle was covered with dust. Ibarra stepped out and was followed by an old servant. He made a gesture to the driver and then turned down the path into the cemetery. He was silent and grave.
"My sickness and my work have not permitted me to return, since the day of the funeral," said the old serv- ant timidly. "Captain Tiago said that he would see to it that a niche was arranged for, but I planted some flowers on the grave and erected a cross made by my own hands."
Ibarra did not reply.
"Right there behind that large cross, senor," con- tinued the servant, making a gesture toward one of the comers just as they passed through the gate.
Ibarra was so preoccupied with sad thoughts that he did not notice the astonishment which some of the people in the cemetery manifested when they saw him enter. Those who were kneeling broke off their prayers and fol- lowed the young man, their eyes full of curiosity.
Ibarra walked along very carefully, and avoided step- ping on the graves, which could be easily distinguished by the sunken ground. In other times he had walked over them; but to-day he respected them. His father lay in one of them. On coming to the other side of the large cross, he stopped and looked in all directions. His companion was confused and out of countenance. He searched for marks on the ground but could not find the cross anywhere.
"Is it here?" he murmured between his teeth. '*lTo, it i9 over there^ but the earth has been removed*"' .,.. -y^_.
48 Friars and Filipinos.
Ibarra looked at him with an expression of angtiish.
"Yes/^ he continued. "I remember that there was a stone by the side of the grave. The grave was a little short, a farm hand had to dig it, as the grave-digger was sick at the time, but we will ask him what he has done with the cross."
They turned toward the grave-digger, who looked at them with curiosity. He saluted them, taking o2 his hat.
^Tan you tell us which of the graves over there is the one which had a cross?" asked the servant.
The grave-digger looked toward the place and seemed to reflect. "A large cross?"
"Yes, a large cross," answered the old man with joy, looking significantly at Ibarra, whose face was some- what animated.
"An ornamented cross, and fastened with reeds?" re- peated the grave-digger, questioning the servant.
"That's it, that's it, yes, yes! Like this, like this," and the servant traced an outline of a Byzantine cross.
"And were there some flowers sown on the grave?"
'^Adelphas, sampagas and pansies! That's it," added the servant, delighted, and offering the grave-digger a cigar. "Tell us where the grave is and where the cross."
The grave-digger scratched his ear and replied, yawning : "Well, the cross — I have already burned it up."
"Burned it? and why have you burned it?"
"Because the head priest so ordered."
"Who is the head priest?" asked Ibarra.
"Who? The one who does the whipping."
Ibarra put his hand to his head.
"But you can at least tell us where the grave is? You ought to remember."
The grave-digger smiled. "The body is no longer there," he replied tranquilly.
"What do you say?"
'TTes, no longer," the man added in a Joking tone. "Only a week ago I buried a woman in its place."
"Are you crazy?" the servant asked, ^^hy, it is not yet a year since we buried him."
Ibarra and the Grave-Digger. 49
*'Then that is the one, for it was many months ago that I took up the body. The head priest of the parish ordered me to do it, in order to bury it in the Chinese cemetery. But as it was heavy and it was raining that night '^
The man could not finish. He stepped back, half frightened at the expression on Crisostomo's face. Ibarra made a rush at him, and, grabbing him by the arm, shook him.
"And what did you do?" the young man asked, in an indescribable tone.
"Honored sir, do not get angry," he replied, pale and trembling. "I did not bury the body among the Chi- nese. In my opinion a person might better be a suicide than be buried among the Chinese. I threw the body into the lake."
Ibarra laid both his hands on the man's shoulders and looked at him for a long time in a terrifying manner. "You are only an unfortunate fellow," he said, at last, and left the place on a run across bones, graves, and crosses, like a madman.
The grave-digger felt of his arm and murmured: "What would they do with the dead! The head priest whips me with his cane for having left the body in the cemetery when I was sick. Now this fellow comes along and nearly breaks my arm for having taken it up. That is just like the Spaniards! I'll lose my place yet."
Ibarra went on in great haste, keeping his eyes fixed in the distance. The old servant followed him, crying. Already the sun was hidden; a large, dark cloud hung over the western horizon; and a dry wind bent the tops of the trees and made the fields of sugar cane groan. With hat in hand, he went on. Not one tear dropped from his eye, not one sigh came from his breast. He hurried on as if he were fleeing from somebody, or some- thing— perhaps the shade of his father, perhaps the tempest which was approaching. He hurried through the town and headed toward the outlying country, to- ward that old house which he had not entered for so many years. The house was surrounded by a wall, near which many cacti grew, and as he approached they seemed to
50 Friars and Filipinos.
signal to him. The windows seemed to open, the Hang- Hang joyfully waved its branches, and the doves fluttered about the little tower on the peak of their garden house.
But the young man did not notice these signs of wel- come on his return to his old home. His eyes were riv- eted on the form of a priest who was advancing from the opposite direction. It was the priest of San Diego, that meditative Franciscan, the enemy of the alfercz whom we have mentioned. The wind was playing with the wide wings of his hat, and the robe of guingon was flattened out, moulded by the wind to the outline of his form, marking his slender thighs and bow-legs. In his right hand he carried a cane. It was the first time that he and Ibarra had met.
As they approached each other, the young man stopped and looked at him fixedly. Father Salvi avoided the look and was somewhat distracted. This vacillation lasted only a moment. Ibarra made a rush toward him, and stopped the priest from falling only by grasping his shoulder. Then, in a voice scarcely intelligible, he exclaimed :
^^What have you done with my father?"
Friar Salvi, pale and trembling, as he read the un- mistakable sentiments which were depicted on the young man's face, could not reply.
"What have you done with my father?" he asked again, his voice almost choking him.
The priest, shrinking from the tight grasp of Ibarra's hand, at last made a great effort and said: "You are mistaken. I have done nothing with your father."
"What? No?" continued the young man, the weight of his hand on the priest's shoulder almost making him kneel.
"No, I assure you. It was my predecessor. It was Father Damaso "
"Ah!" exclaimed the young man, throwing the priest down and giving him a slap in the face. And leaving Father Salvi, he turned quickly and went toward the house.
Adventures of a School Teacher. 51
CHAPTER IX.
'ADVENTURES OF A SCHOOL TEACHER.
Laguna de Bay, surrounded by mountains, sleeps tranquilly in the stillness of the elements, as if it had not joined the chorus of the tempest on the night before. As first rays of dawn appear in the eastern sky and awaken the phosphorescent myriads in the water, long, grey shadows appear in the dim distance, almost on the border of the horizon. They are shadows of fishermen's boats at work drawing in the nets.
Two men, dressed in deep mourning, from a lofty height contemplate the scene in silence. One is Ibarra, and the other is a young, meek-looking man with a mel- ancholy countenance.
^'Here is the place!" said the latter. "Here is where your father's body was thrown into the water! The grave-digger brought Lieutenant Guevara and me here and pointed out the spot."
Ibarra, with emotion, warmly grasped the young man's hand.
"You need not thank me!" replied the latter. "I owed your father for many favors he did me. The only thing I could ever do for him was to accompany his body to the grave. I had come to the town without knowing anybody, without any recommendations, without a repu- tation, without money, just as I am now. Your father protected me, procured a house for me, helped secure whatever was needed to advance education; he used to come to the school and distribute pennies among the poor and diligent pupils; he provided them with books and papers. But that, like all good things, did not last long."
Ibarra took off his hat and seemed to pray for a short time. Then he turned to his companion and said: *TDid
52. Friars and Filipinos.
you tell me that my father used to help the poor chil- dren. How is it now?^^
^*^0h, now they do the best they can."
"And don't they come to school regularly?"
"No, for their shirts are ragged' and they are ashamed."
Ibarra kept silent for a few moments.
"How many pupils have yon now?" he asked, with a certain interest.
"There are more than two hundred on the register, but only twenty-five in the class."
"How does that happen?"
The school teacher sadly smiled.
"It is a long and tedious story," said he.
"Don't think that I am asking out of vain curiosity," replied Ibarra, looking seriously at the distant horizon. "I have been meditating a great deal on the matter, and I believe that it is far better to try to carry out the ideas of my father than to try to avenge him. His tomb is sacred ISTature; and his enemies were the people and the priest. I can forgive the people for their ignorance, and as to the priest, I will pardon his character because I wish to respect the religion which he represents. I wish to be inspired with the spirit of the one who gave me life, and, that I may lend my help, I wish to know what are the obstacles here in the way of education."
'^The country will bless your memory, Seiior, if you can carry out the beautiful and noble ideas of your dead father," said the school teacher. "You wish to know what the obstacles are? Very well. We are now in such circumstances that unless something powerful inter- venes, there will never be any education here. First, because there is no incentive or stimulus to the chil- dren, and, secondly, even when there is an incentive, lack of means and many prejudices kill it. They say that the son of a German peasant studies eight years in the town school. Who would want to spend half of that time in our schools^ when the benefits to be derived are so small? Here the children read, and commit to mem- ory verses and at times entire books in Spanish, but all without understanding a single word. What good can
•Adventures of a School Teacher. 53
the sons of our farmers get out of the school so long as this is the case?"
"And you see the evil; have you not thought out a remedy ?"
"Ah, poor me!" replied the teacher, shaking his head, "a poor teacher cannot alone fight against prejudices, against existing influences. Above all, I would need to have a school house, so that I would not, as I do now, have to teach from the priest's carriage, under the convent. There, when the children want to read aloud, they nat- urally disturb the Father, who at times comes down and very nervous, especially when he has his attacks, finds fault with the children and insults me. You know very well that under such conditions no one can do any teaching. The child does not respect the teacher from that moment when he sees him mistreated by some one else without maintaining his rights. The teacher, if he is to be listened to, or if his authority is not to be doubted, needs prestige, a good name, moral strength, and a certain amount of freedom. If you will allow me, I will give you an illustration. I wished to introduce some reforms and they laughed at me. In order to remedy the evil that I spoke of a moment ago, I tried to teach the children Spanish, because, not only does the Government order it, but because it will be a great advantage for them to know the language. I employed the simplest method, used simple phrases and nouns without making use of hard rules, with the expectation of teaching them the grammar as soon as they had learned the language. At the end of several weeks, al- most all the smarter ones in the school understood me and were able to compose phrases in Castellano."
The teacher stopped and seemed to be in doubt. Then, as if he had made up his mind, he began again.
"I ought not to be ashamed of the history of my grievances. If any one had been in my place, he would have had the same story to tell. As I was saying, I be- gan well. Several days later the priest, who was then Father Damaso, sent the sacristan mayor to tell me that he wanted to see me. As I knew his character and was afraid to make him wait for me, I went up immedi-
54 Friars and Filipinos.
ately, saluted him and said good morning to him in Spanish. As was customary, when I saluted him, I ad- vanced to kiss the hand which he held out, but just at that moment he withdrew it and, without replying to me, began to chuckle scoffingly. I was naturally discon- certed, and it was all done in the presence of the sac- ristian mayor. At the moment, I did not know what to say. I stood and looked at him while he went on laugh- ing. I had already become impatient and saw that I was on the point of commiting an indiscretion. All of a sudden, he stopped laughing and added insult to in- jury. With a cunning air, he said to me: 'So it is huenos dias, eh? luenos dias, ha, ha! How funny! Why, you know how to speak Spanish, do you?' And then he continued his laugh."
Ibarra could not keep back his smile.
"You laugh," replied the teacher, also smiling. "I confess that I did not feel like smiling at that time. I felt the blood rush to my head, and a thunderbolt seemed to dazzle my brain. I saw the priest far off, very far from me. I started toward him to reply. The sac- ristan mayor interposed and said very seriously, in Tagalog: 'You want to stop wearing borrowed clothes. Be content to speak in your own language and do not spoil Spanish, which is not meant for you. You have heard about Ciruela? Well, Ciruela was a teacher who did not know how to read, but he taught school.' I wanted to detain him for a moment, but he went quickly into his room and closed the door violently. What was I to do? In order to collect my salary I have to have the approval of the priest on my bill, and have to make a journey to the capital of the province. What could I do to him — the moral, political and civil authority of the town, sus- tained by his corporation, feared by the Government, rich, powerful, always consulting, advising, listening, be- lieving and attending to everything — what could I do to him? If he insulted me, I had to keep my mouth closed. If I talked back, he would throw me out of work, spoiling my career. And what good would it do — education? On the contrary, everybody would take up the priest's side of the matter; they would criticise
Adventures of a School Teacher. 55
me, they would call me vain, proud, arrogant, a poor Christian, poorly educated, and when not this, they would call me an anti-Spaniard and an agitator. The school teacher should have no authority. He should only be lazy, humble, and resigned to his low position. May God pardon me if I do not speak conscientiously and truthfully, but 1 was born in this country, I have to live, I have a mother to support and I have to be re- signed to my lot.^'
"And have you continued to be discouraged on ac- count of this trouble? Have you attempted nothing since?"
"Would to God that it had ended there!" he replied. *^ould to God that that had been the end of my mis- fortunes. The truth is that from that day I began to take a dislike to my profession. Every day the school brought to my mind my disgrace and made every hour a bitter one for me. But what could I do? I could not disappoint my mother. I had to tell her that the three years of sacrifices which she had made for me in order that I might learn the profession now made me happy. I had to make her believe that the profession was a most honorable one, that the work was most pleasant, that the road was strewn with flowers and that the ful- fillment of my duty produced nothing but friendships. If I had told her the contrary, I myself would still be as unhappy and would only make another unhappy, which was not only useless but a sin. So, I kept at my work and tried not to be discouraged. I tried to fight it down."
The school teacher made a short pause and then began again.
"You know that the books in most of the schools are in Spanish, excepting the Tagalog catechism, which varies according to the corporation which appoints the priest of the parish. The books generally used in the school are novenaries, the ^Doxology^ and Father Astete's cate- chism, which are no more edifying than the books of heretics. On account of the fact that it was impos- sible to teach the children Spanish, as I wanted to do, and owing to the fact that I could not translate so many books into the native language, I decided to try to sub-
56 Friars and Filipinos.
stitute for them gradually, short verses, extracts from the best Tagalog books, such as the 'Treatise on Urbanity' by Hortensio y Feliza, and some of the little pamphlets on agriculture. Sometimes I myself translated small works, such as the 'History of the Philippines,' by Father Bar- ranera, and afterward dictated to the pupils for their note books, adding at times some of my own observations. As I had no maps to teach them geography, I copied one of those of the province which I saw in the capital, and with this reproduction and, by the aid of the tiles on the floor, I was able to give them some ideas about the coun- try. The new priest sent for me. Although he did not reprimand me severely, he told me, however, that my first duty was to teach religion, and that before I began to teach any such things I must prove by an examination that all the children knew by heart the 'Mysteries,' the 'Doxology,' and the 'Catechism of the Christian Doc- trine.'
"So, in the meantime, I am endeavoring to convert the children into parrots so that they will know by heart all of these things of which they do not understand a single word. Many of the pupils already know the 'Mys- teries' and the 'Doxology,' but I fear that I am making Father Astete's efforts useless, inasmuch as my pupils do not even distinguish between the questions and the answers, or what either of them signifies. Thus we shall die and thus shall do those who are yet to be born; yet in Europe they talk about Progress !"
"Let us not be so pessimistic," replied Ibarra, rising to his feet. "The teniente mayor has invited me to at- tend a town meeting to be held in the tribunal. Who knows but that some plan for improvement may there be adopted!"
The school teacher arose to go, shaking his head in token of doubt.
Lights and Shadows. 5;
CHAPTER X.
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS.
The people of the town have made their preparation for the festival in honor of the patron saint, San Diego, and are gossiping about it, and about the arrival of Maria Clara, accompanied by her aunt Isabel. They rejoiced over it, because they liked her, and admired her beauty very much. They also rejoiced in the change it had made in the priest. Father Salvi. "He is often absent-minded during the holy services," they said. "He scarcely speaks with us, and he plainly grows more thin and taciturn." His cook saw this constantly and complained of the little honor that he did his dishes. But what most excited the wonder of the people were the two lights which one could see shining in the convent during the night, while Father Salvi was visiting at the house of Maria Clara ! The old dames crossed themselves and kept on gossiping.
Juan Crisostomo Ibarra had telegraphed from the capi- tal of the province his compliments to Aunt Isabel and her niece, but he had not explained his absence. Many thought that he had been arrested for assaulting Father Salvi on the afternoon of "All Saint's Day." But the comments increased still more when, on the afternoon of the third day, they saw Ibarra get out of a carriage in front of the little house of his betrothed, and courteously salute the priest, who was also making his way thither.
If we go to Maria Clara's house, we will find it like a little nest among orange and ilang-ilang trees, surrounded by flowers and vines which creep up on bamboo sticks and wires, diffusing their delicious perfume. The rich fra- grance of the Hang-Hang reaches even to the window which looks out on the lake. Here sit the two young lovers. Ibarra was saying to Maria Clara :
"To-morrow, before the first ray of morning, your de- sire shall be fulfilled. To-night, I shall arrange all so that nothing will be lacking."
58 Friars and Filipinos.
"THen I will write to my friends, so that they may come along. Arrange it so that the priest cannot come."
"And why?"
"Because he seems to be watching me. His deep and sombre eyes pain me. When he fixes them upon me, they, frighten me. He speaks to me of extraordinary things, so incomprehensible, so strange. He asked me once if I had! not dreamed about my mother^s letters. I believe he is half crazy. My friend Sinang, and Andeng, my foster sister, say that he is a little out of his head, for he neither eats nor bathes, and he lives entirely in the darkness. Don't have him come !"
"We cannot but invite him," replied Ibarra. "The customs of the country require it. He is the priest of your house and, besides, he has conducted himself nobly to- ward me. When the Alcalde consulted him on the business of which I have spoken to you, he had nothing but praises for me and did not pretend to offer the slightest obstacle. But I see that you are serious. I shall take care that he does not accompany us in the boat."
Light steps were heard. They were those of the priest, who was approaching with a forced smile on his lips. They began to talk of different subjects, about the weather, the town and the festival. Maria Clara devised an ex- cuse and went out.
"And while we are speaking about festivals," said Ibarra, "allow me to invite you to the one which we are going to celebrate to-morrow. It is going to be a coun- try picnic, which we and our friends are planning."
"And where will it be held?"
"The girls want to hold it near the brook in the woods, near the haliti tree. So we will have to get up early to reach the place before the sun gets hot."
The priest reflected, and a moment later replied: "The invitation is very tempting, and I accept it in order to prove that I hold no grudge against you for what has happened in the past. But I will have to be a little late, as I must fulfill my religious duties first. How happy to be like you, entirely free and independent !"
A few minutes later, Ibarra took his leave in order to arrange for the picnic on the following day. It was al- ready quite dark when he left the house.
The Fishing Party. 59
CHAPTER XI.
THE FISHING PAETY.
The stars were still shining in the sapphire heavens, and the birds were sleeping on the branches of the trees, when a jolly little party, by the light from the pitch torches, wandered through the streets of the town toward the lake.
Five young maidens, clinging to each other's hands or belts, tripped along briskly. Behind them came several elderly women and a number of servants gracefully carry- ing on their heads baskets filled with provisions and vari- ous dishes for the picnic. On seeing their joyful faces, with their youthful smiles, their beautiful black hair as it floated in the breeze, and the wide folds of their pretty dresses, you would have taken them for goddesses of the night and would have thought that they were fleeing from day — if perchance you had not already known that it was Maria Clara and her four friends: jolly Sinang; her cousin, the serious Victoria; beautiful Iday; and the pen- sive Neneng, pretty, modest and timid.
They were talking with animation; they laughed; pinched each other; whispered in each other's ears and then burst out in shouts of merriment.
"You girls will wake up everybody in town. Don't you know that people are still asleep?" said Aunt Isabel, reprimanding them. "When we were young, we didn't make such a noise."
"But you didn't get up as early as we do, nor were the old men such great sleepers in your day," replied little Sinang.
They were quiet for a moment and were trying to talk in a low voice, but they quickly forgot themselves and were again filling the streets with their youthful laughter and melodious voices.
60 Friars and Filipinos.
Several young fellows were coining down the street, lighting their way with large bamboo torches. They were marching along almost noiselessly to the tune of a guitar.
"That guitar sounds as though some beggar were play- ing it/' said Sinang, laughing. But when the young fel- lows caught up with the rest of the party, the girls sud- denly became as quiet and as serious as though they never had learned how to laugh. The young men, however, chatted away, saluted the ladies, laughed and smiled and asked half a dozen questions without giving the girls time to answer any one of them.
The two large lancasj^ which had been secured to trans- port the picnic party to the fishing grounds, were fastened together and picturesquely adorned with wreaths and gar- lands of flowers and a large number of vari-colored candles. Paper lanterns hung from the improvised cov- ering of the hancas. Alternately with these were roses, pinks and baskets of fruits such as pineapples, Icasuys, bananas, gicayahas and lanzones. Ibarra had brought his carpets, blankets and rugs and arranged comfortable seats for the ladies. The poles and paddles used to propel the hancas had also been ornamented. In the better hanca were a harp, guitars, accordeons, and a buffalo horn ; while, in the other boat, a little fire had been lighted in an improvised stove in order that tea, coffee and salabat\ might be prepared for the light breakfast.
"The women sit here ; the men, there,'' said the mothers on stepping into the hanca. "Sit still and don't move, or we will be capsized."
"Cross yourselves before we start," said Aunt Isabel, as she traced the form of a cross on her breast.
"And are we to be here all by ourselves," asked Sinang, on seeing how the girls had been separated from the young men, by the assignment of the seats. Then making a grimace she asked again, "Are we going to be all alone? Arayr
This aray was caused by a little pinch which her mother had given her on the arm in the way of a reprimand for her complaint.
* A narrow canoe. f A drink made of honey and ginger.
The Fishing Party. 61
The hancas were now putting off slowly from the shore. The light from the torches and Japanese lanterns was reflected in the water, for the lake was as smooth as a mirror. In the far eastern horizon could be seen the first rosy tints of the approaching dawn.
Everything was very quiet. The young women, in con- sequence of the separation from the young men, seemed to be absorbed in meditation.
As the water was smooth as glass and the bamboo weirs where the fish were to be found were not far off, and, it was still early, it was decided that all should stop paddling and take breakfast. The lights were put out, for the day had dawned and preparations were made for desayuno*
The entire party became jolly as they breathed in the light breeze that had come upi Even the women, so full of presentiments a few moments ago, were now laughing and joking among themselves.
One young man alone of all the party remained silent. He was the pilot, an athletic-looking fellow, and inter- esting on account of his large, sad eyes and the severe lines of his lips. His long, black hair fell gracefully over his powerful neck. He wore a shirt of coarse dark cloth, through which his powerful muscles could be plainly seen as he manipulated with his strong arms the wide, heavy paddle as if it were only a pen. This paddle served both to propel and to steer the hancas.
More than once he was embarrassed when he caught Maria Clara looking at him. Then he would turn his eyes quickly to some other direction and look far off toward the mountain, or the shore of the lake. The young maiden pitied him in his solitude and offered him some biscuits. The pilot looked at her with surprise, but only for a mo- ment. He took the biscuits, thanked her very briefiy and in a voice scarcely audible.
No one else took any notice of him. The happy laugh- ter and jolly conversation of the young men did not cause him to relax a single muscle of his face. Not even Sinang, with all her jollity, had any effect on him. *A light, early breakfast.
62 Friars and Filipinos.
"Wait a minute!" said Aunt Isabel to the boatman's son, who had made ready his net and was just about to go up on the baklad to take out the fish from the little enclosure at the end of the weir. "We must have every- thing ready, so that the fish may pass directly from the water to the pot."
Andeng, the pretty foster sister of Maria Clara, despite her clear complexion and laughing face, had the reputa- tion of being a good cook. She prepared the rice, toma- toes, and camias,* while some of the young men tried to aid or bother her, perhaps in order to win her good will. The other girls were busy cleaning and making ready the lettuce, cabbage and peas, and cutting up pa^iyap in pieces about the size of a cigarette.
Finally Andeng announced that the kettle was ready to receive its guests — the fish.
The fisherman's son went up on top of the rack at the end of the weir. He took a position at the narrow en- trance, over which might have been written: "All who enter here' leave hope behind," if indeed the unfortunate fish would know how to read and understand it, for a fish who enters never gets out except to die. The rack is almost circular in form and about a meter in diameter, and is so arranged that a man can stand on top of one end of it and thus take out the fish with his net.
"There, it wouldn't tire me a bit to fish that way," said Sinang, quite joyful.
All were watching attentively. Already some of them in their vivid imaginations thought they could see the fish wiggling their tails and trying to get out of the little net, their scales shining in the bright sun. However, the young man failed to catch a single fish in his first at- tempt.
"It ought to be full of fish," said Albino, in a low voice. "It is more than five days since we visited the place last."
The fisherman drew out his net a second time, but not a fish was there in it. The water, as it trickled through the meshes of the net in countless drops which reflected
*A native fruit.
The Fishing Party. 63
the rays of the sun, seemed to laugh in silvery tones. An "Ah" of surprise, disgust, and disappointment escaped from the lips of all.
The young fellow repeated the same operation, but with a similar result.
"You don^t understand your business!" said Albino to him as he stepped up on the rack and took the net from the hands of the youngster. "Now you will see ! Andeng, open up the kettle!"
But Albino did not understand his business, either. The net came up empty as before. All began to laugh.
"Don't make any noise," he said, "or the fish will hear it and will keep from being caught. This net must have a hole in it somewhere."
But every mesh in the net was perfect.
"Let me take it!" said Leon, Iday's lover, to Albino.
Leon first made sure that the enclosure was in good condition and then examined the net carefully and satis- fied himself that there was nothing wrong with it. He then asked: "Are you sure that no one has been out here for five days?"
"We are sure ! The last time any one was out here was on All Saints' Day."
"Well, then, I am going to bring out something this time, unless the lake is bewitched."
Leon lowered the net by its bamboo handle into the water, but a look of surprise was painted on his face. In silence he looked toward the neighboring mountain and continued moving the handle of the net from one side to the other. Finally, without taking the net out of the water, he murmured in a low voice: "An alligator."
"An alligator!" exclaimed half a dozen voices, and th? word was repeated again while all stood frightened and stupefied.
"What did you say?" they asked.
"I say that there is an alligator caught in the rack," said Leon, and sticking the handle of the net into the water again he continued: 'TDo you hear that sound? That is not sand, it is hard skin, the back of the alligator. Do you see how he wiggles the bamboo pickets in the rack ? He is struggling hard but he cannot do anything. Wait.
64 Friars and Filipinos.
He is a large fellow ; his body measures a palm or more in width/'
"What shall be done?" was the question. "Catch him/' said one. ^' Jesus! And who will catch him?" Nobody offered to dive down to the bottom of the rack. The water was very deep.
"We ought to tie him to our hanca and drag him along in triumph/' said Sinang. "The idea of his eating the fish which we ought to have!"
"I have never seen to this day a live alligator/' said Maria Clara.
The pilot rose to his feet, took a long rope and went up cautiously to the platform on the top of the rack. Leon gave up his position to him.
With the exception of Maria Clara, none up till now had paid any attention to him. Now every one was ad- miring his fine stature.
To the great surprise of all and in spite of all their cries, the pilot leaped into the enclosure.
"Take this knife!" shouted Crisostomo, drawing out a wide-bladed Toledo knife.
But already a thousand little bubbles were rising to the surface of the water, and all that was going on in the depths below was wrapped in mystery.
"Jesus, Maria y Jose!" exclaimed the women. "We
are going to have a misfortune. Jesus, Maria y Jose!**
"Don't be alarmed, seiioras," said the old boatman. "If
there is any one in this province who can do it, it is that
fellow who has just gone down."
"What is his name?" they asked.
"We call him 'The Pilot' ; he is the best I have ever seen, only he does not like his profession."
The water was being stirred violently, and it seemed that a fierce fight was being waged in the depths of the lake. The sides of the enclosure swayed to and fro, while the water seemed to be swirled by a dozen currents. All held their breath. Ibarra grasped tightly the handle of his sharp knife.
The fight seemed to be at an end. The head of the young man rose to the surface of the water, and the sight
The Fishing Party. 65
ivras greeted by Joyful shouts from all. The eyes of the women were full of tears.
The pilot crawled up on the platform carrying in his hand the end of the rope, and as soon as he was able pulled on it.
The monster appeared on top of the water. He had the rope tied twice around his neck, and once behind his fore- legs. He was a large fellow, as Leon had already an- nounced. He was beautifully colored and green moss was growing on his back. He bellowed like an ox, struck his tail against the sides of the enclosure, snapped at them, and opened his black, frightful-looking mouth, showing hip long teeth.
The pilot, unassisted, raised him up out of the water. No one offered to help him. Just as soon as the animal was out of the water and placed on the platform, the pilot put his foot on his back. Then, closing the animal's mas- sive jaws, he tried to tie his big snout tight with the rope. The reptile made a last effort, doubled up his body, struck the floor of the platform with his powerful tail and, break- ing loose, made a leap into the water of the lake, on the other side of the weir, at the same time dragging with him his captor. It seemed that the pilot would be a dead man. A cry of horror went up from all.
Like a flash of lightning, another body leaped into the water. So quickly was it done that they had scarcely time to see that it was Ibarra. Maria Clara did not faint, simply because the Filipinos do not know how to faint.
They all saw the water become colored, and tinged with blood. The young fisherman leaped to the bottom with his bolo in his hand; his father followed him. But, scarcely had they disappeared, when they saw Crisostomo and the pilot reappear, clinging to the body of the reptile. The monster's white belly was slashed, while in his throat the knife still stuck like a nail.
It is impossible to describe the joy that came over the party at the sight; all arms were extended to help them out of the water. The old women were half crazed with joy, and laughed and prayed. Andeng forgot that her kettle had beei; boiling three different times; now it wa§
66 Friars and Filipinos.
leaking and had put out tlie fire. iTHe only one wHo could not speak was Maria Clara.
Ibarra was unhurt. The pilot had a slight scratch on his arm.
"I owe you my life!" said he to Ibarra as the latter wrapped himself up in the shawls and blankets. The voice of the pilot had a ring of sincerity.
"You are too bold," replied Ibarra. "Another time you must not tempt God."
"If you had never come back!" exclaimed Maria, pale and trembling.
"If I had never come back and you had followed after me," replied the young man, "I would have been with all my family in the bottom of the lake." Ibarra was think- ing that in those depths lay the remains of his father.
The mothers of the girls did not want to go to the other halclad oi weir. They preferred to go back home happy, for the day had commenced with a bad omen and they feared that they would suffer many misfortunes.
"It is all because we have not heard mass," sighed one of them.
"But what misfortune have we had, seiioras?" asked Ibarra. "The alligator was the unfortunate one."
"That goes to show," concluded Albino, "that, in all his fishing life, this reptile has never heard mass. I never saw him, I am sure, among the other reptiles who frequent the church."
The hancas were turned toward the other fish rack, and it was necessary for Andeng to get the water boiling again.
The day was advancing; a breeze was blowing; little v/aves were stirred up on the water, and rippled around the alligator. The music began again. Iday was playing the harp, while the young men were playing the accordeons and guitars with more or less skill. But the one who played best was Albino.
The other weir was visited with an entire lack of con- fidence. Many of the party expected to find there the mate to the alligator, but Nature fooled them and every time that the net was lowered it was brought up full of fish.
The Fishing Party. 67
THey then headed for the shore of the lake, where is situated the forest of trees centuries old, owned by Ibarra. There in the shade and near the crystal brook the party were to take their breakfast among the flowers or under improvised tents.
68 Friars and Filipinos.
CHAPTER XII.
IN" THE WOODS.
Very early that morning Father Salvi had said mass, cleaning, according to his custom, a dozen dirty souls in a few minutes. The reading of a few letters, which had arrived well sealed with wax, seemed to cause the worthy curate to lose his appetite, for he allowed his chocolate to get cold.
"The Father is ill," said the cook as he prepared an- other cup. "It is several days since he has eaten any- thing; of six dishes which I put on the table for him, he has not touched two."
^^It must be that he does not sleep well," replied the servant. "He has nightmare since he changed his bed- room. Every day his eyes are sinking deeper, he grows gradually thinner, and is very yellow."
As a matter of fact, it was a pitiful sight to behold Father Salvi. He did not care to touch his second cup of chocolate, nor to taste the Cebu cakes. He walked pen- sively to and fro in the spacious sola, crumpling between his bony fingers some letters which he would read from time to time. Finally, he called for his carriage, got ready and ordered the coachman to take him to the woods where the picnic was to be held. Arriving at the place, Father Salvi dismissed the carriage and all alone, entered the forest.
A shady but difficult path runs through the thicket and leads to the brook which is formed by the hot springs so plentiful at the base of Mount Makiling.
For some time. Father Salvi was wandering among the thick underbrush, here trjdng to evade the thorns which entangled his habit of guingon as if to detain him; there trying to step over the roots of the trees which stuck up through the ground and made the inexperienced traveler
In the Woods. 69
stumble again and again. Suddenly he stopped. Mirth- ful laughter and the sound of young voices reached his ears. The voices and the laughter seemed to come from the direction of the brook and each time seemed to be com- ing nearer.
"I am going to see if I can find a heron's nest/^ said a voice, beautiful and sweet, and at once recognized by the curate. 'TTou know they say that if a person possesses one of those nests he can make himself invisible to everybody. How I would like to see him and not have him see me! I could follow him everywhere."
Father SaM hid behind the thick trunk of an old tree and listened.
"That is to say, you want to do with him what the curate does with you : watch him everywhere ?" replied the merry voice. "Be careful, for jealousy makes one grow thin and the eyes sink in."
"No, no. It is not jealousy, it is pure curiosity," re- plied the silvery voice, while the other repeated, "yes, yes, jealousy; that's what it is." And then she broke out in a merry chuckle.
"If I were jealous of him I would not use the heron's nest to make myself invisible to him, but would make him invisible to everybody else."
"But then you yourself would not be able to see him and you would not want that to happen. The best thing to do, if we find a heron's nest is to give it to the priest. Then he could watch us as much as he pleased, and we would not be troubled with the sight of him. What do you think of the idea ?"
"But I don't believe in the story about the heron's nests, anyway," replied one. "But if I were really jealous I would know how to keep watch of a person and make my- self invisible. . . "
"And how ? How would you do it ? Perhaps you would do as Sister Listener does in the convent?"
This reference to days passed in the convent provoked a jolly laugh all around.
Father Salvi saw from his hiding-place Maria Clara, Victoria, and Sinang, wading in the stream. All three were looking into the water, which was like a mirror, in
70 Friars and Filipinos.*
search of the heron's nest. They were getting wet np to their knees, the wide folds of their bathing skirts allowing one to guess how graceful were the curves of their limbs. They were wearing their hair loose and their arms were bare. Striped, bright-colored bodices covered their breasts. The three lasses, at the same time that they were hunting for that which did not exist, collected flowers and plants which were growing on the banks of the stream.
The religious Acteon, pale and immovable, stood gaz- ing upon Maria Clara, that chaste Diana. The eyes which shone in those dark orbits never tired of admiring those white and beautiful arms, that pretty, round neck, those tiny and rosy feet as they played in the water. As he contemplated all this, strange feelings were awakened in his breast, new dreams took possession of his burning mind.
The three pretty forms disappeared in a thick growth of bamboo behind a bend in the stream, but their cruel allusions could still be heard by the curate. Intoxicated with the strange ideas in his head, staggering, and covered with perspiration. Father Salvi left his hiding-place and looked about him in all directions with staring eyes. He stood immovable, in doubt. He took a few steps as if to follow the young women, but he turned about, and walked along the bank of the stream in order to find the rest of the picnic party.
Some distance ahead, in the middle of the stream, he could see a bathing place well enclosed by bamboo. He could hear merry laughter and feminine accents coming from that direction. Still further down the stream he could see a bamboo bridge and some men in bathing. In the meantime, a multitude of servants were bustling about the improvised fireplaces, some engaged in plucking chickens, others in washing rice and roasting pig. And there on the opposite bank, in a clearing which had been made, were a number of men and women under a tent. The tent had been made by hanging canvas from the limbs of some of the .old trees and by erecting a few poles. There in the group was the alferez, the teniente mayor, the coadjutor, the gohernadorcillo, the school teacher, a jiumbei: of past captains and lieutenants, including even
In the Woods. 71
Captain Basilio, who was Sinang^s father, and the former rival of the deceased Don Kaf ael. Ibarra had said to him : "The mere fact that we are parties to a law-suit does not mean that we have to be enemies." So it was that the celebrated orator of the conservative party had accepted the invitation to the picnic with enthusiasm, and had even brought along three turkeys and put his servants at the disposition of the young man.
The parish priest was received with respect and deference by all, even by the alferez.
"But where did Your Keverence come from?" some one asked on seeing his face full of scratches, and his habit covered with leaves and pieces of dried branches. "Has Your Reverence fallen down?"
"No^ I lost my way," replied Father Salvi, looking down and examining his clothes.
Bottles of lemonade were opened, green cocoanuts were cut in two so that those who were coming out of the bath might have the refreshing milk to drink and the delicate meat to eat. The young women in addition received rosaries of sampagas interwoven with roses and ilang-ilang, which gave a beautiful fragrance to their loose hair. Some were sitting or lying in hammocks which had been hung from the branches of the trees; others were enter- taining themselves in a game that was going on around a large, flat stone. Playing cards, checkers, dice and many other games were in progress.
They showed the alligator to the curate, but he seemed absorbed and paid no attention until they mentioned the fact that the wide wound in the animal's neck had been made by Ibarra. Then, too, the pilot, the principal figure in the incident, had disappeared and could not be found anywhere.
Finally Maria Clara came out of the bath, accompanied by her friends, fresh as a rose when first it blooms, and when the dew on its divine petals glistens like diamonds. Her first smile was for Ibarra; and her first frown for Father Salvi. The latter noticed this, but he did not even sigh.
It was now time to eat. The curate, the coadjutor, the alferez, the gdbernadorcillo, and some of the captains, to-
72 Friars and Filipinos.
gether with the tenente mayor sat down at the table over which Ibarra presided. The mothers of the girls did not allow any one to eat at the table with their charges.
"Do you know anything yet, Senor Alferez, about the criminal who assaulted Father Damaso?" asked Father Salvi.
"About what criminal, Father?" asked the alferez, look- ing at the parish priest through his empty wine glass.
"About whom could it be? About the one who, day before yesterday, struck Father Damaso, of course."
"Struck Father Damaso?" asked a number of voices.
The coadjutor was seen to smile.
"Yes ; and Father Damaso is now in bed. It is believed that the culprit was that same Elias who once threw you into a mud-hole, Senor Alferez."
The alferez colored up a little, either from shame or too much wine.
"I thought that you were interested in the affair," con- tinued Father Salvi, with a little jeering in his manner.
The alferez bit his lips and mumbled out a silly ex- cuse.
The meal ended and, while tea and coffee were being served, the young and old distributed themselves about in various groups. Some picked up playing cards and others dice, but the young women, anxious to know the future, preferred to try their luck with the wheel of fortune.
"Come, Senor Ibarra," shouted Captain Basilio, who was a little bit jolly. "We have a law-suit that has been pending for fifteen years, and there isn't a judge in the Supreme Court in Manila who can decide it. Let us see if we can settle it on the chess board. What do you say?"
The game of chess began with much solemnity,
"If the game is a draw," said Ibarra, "it is understood that the suit is off."
About the middle of the game, Ibarra received a tele- gram which made his eyes glisten and his face grow pale. He put it in his pocket-book, not, however, without di- recting a glance at the group of young women who con- tinued with much laughter to play the wheel of fortune.
"Check to the king!" said the young man.
In the Woods. 73
Captain Basilio had no other resort than to hide him behind the queen.
"Check to the queen!" said Ibarra, threatening it with his rtok, which was defended by a pawn.
Not being able to cover the queen, nor to retire it on account of the fact that the king was behind it, Captain Basilio asked permission to study the situation a little.
"Certainly, with much pleasure," replied Ibarra. "I will take advantage of the opportunity, for I have some- thing to say to some of the members of that group over there."
And rising to his feet, he gave his opponent half an hour to study it out.
Iday held in her hands the strip of cardboard on which was written forty-eight questions, while Albino held the book which contained the answers.
"That's a lie ! It's not so ! It lies !" cried Sinang, half in tears.
"What is the matter with you?" asked Maria Clara.
"Just imagine it: I asked the question *When will I have some sense ?' I threw the dice and he, this all-night- watching priest (Albino, the ex-seminary student) reads from the book: 'When the frogs grow hairs.^ What do you think of that?"
And Sinang made a face at the former religious student, who was still laughing heartily.
"Who told you to ask such a question ?" said her cousin Victoria. "Any one who asks such a question deserves just such an answer."
"You ask a question!" said they all to Ibarra. "We have agreed that the one who receives the best answer shall receive a gift from the others. We have all asked our questions already."
"And who has received the best answer?'^
"Maria Clara, Maria Clara!" replied Sinang. "We made her ask the question whether you loved her or not: 'Is your lover faithful and constant,' and the book re- plied "
But Maria Clara colored up, and, putting her hands over Sinang's mouth, did not allow her to finish what she had to say.
74 Friars and Filipinos.
"Then, let me try it,'^ said Crisostomo, smiling.
He asked the question: ^^ill I succeed in my present undertaking ?"
"You are going to get a bad answer/* exclaimed Sinang.
Ibarra threw the dice, and noting the number, they looked for the page in the little book with the correspond- ing answer.
"Dreams are only dreams/' read Albino.
Ibarra took out his pocket-book and opened it trem- bling.
"This time your book has lied," he said, full of joy. "Read this \"
^Tlan for school house approved; other matter de- cided in your favor.''
'^hat does that mean?" they all asked.
"Did you not tell me that the one who received the best answer was to get a present?" the young man asked, his voice trembling with emotion while he carefully divided the paper into two parts.
"Yes, yes!"
"Well, then! This is my gift," he said handing half of the telegram to Maria Clara. "I am going to have a school house for boys and girls erected in the town. This school house will be my gift."
'^And this other piece: what does that mean?"
'^1 will give that to the one who has obtained the worst answer."
"Then that is for me!" exclaimed Sinang.
Ibarra gave her the piece of paper and quickly went off.
"And what does this mean?"
But the happy young man was already far away from the little group and he did not reply. He had gone to finish the game of chess.
After making the present to his betrothed, Ibarra was so happy that he began to play without stopping to think or even examining carefully the position of the chess. As a result, although Captain Basilio had defended him-
In the Woods. 75
self only by the greatest effort, the young man made so many mistakes that the game resulted in a draw.
"We end the suit, we end the suit!" said Captain Basilio, happy over his success.
"Yes, we declare it off," repeated the young man, "whatever decision the judges may have been able to reach."
Each grasped the hand of the other and shook it with effusion.
In the meantime, while those present were celebrating the ending of the law-suit, of which both had long been tired, four Civil Guards and a sergeant suddenly arrived on the scene. They were all armed and had their bayonets fixed, a fact which naturally disturbed the merriment and brought fright into the circle of women.
"Let everybody be quiet!" cried the sergeant. "Who- ever moves will be shot !"
In spite of this gruff boast, Ibarra rose to his feet and approached the sergeant.
"What do you wish?" he asked.
"That you give up at once the criminal named Elias who acted as pilot for your party this morning," he re- plied, in a threatening tone.
"A criminal? The pilot? You must be mistaken!" replied Ibarra.
"No, sir; that Elias is now accused of another crime, of having laid his hands on a priest ^'
"Ah!^ And is the pilot the one?"
"He is the same one, so we are told. You are allow- ing people of bad reputation to attend your festivals, Senor Ibarra."
Ibarra looked at him from head to foot and replied with supreme contempt: "I don't have to account to you for my actions. At our festivals everybody is well received, and you yourself, if you had come, would have been given a seat at the table, the same as the alferez who was here among us two hours ago."
Saying this, Ibarra turned his back to him. The ser- geant bit his mustache and ordered his men to search everywhere among the trees for the pilot, whose descrip- tion he had on a piece of paper.
76 Friars and Filipinos.
Don Filipo said to him: "Take note that this descrip- tion corresponds to that of nine-tenths of the natives. Take care that you do not make a mistake V
At last the soldiers returned, saying that they had not been able to discover either a hanca or a man that aroused their suspicion. The sergeant murmured a few indistinct words and then marched oif.
Soon the people became jolly again, but questions, wonder and comments were without end.
So the afternoon passed and the hour for departure arrived. Just as the sun was dropping below the horizon they left the woods. The trees seemed sad and all the surroundings seemed to bid them farewell and say: "Good-bye, happy youth; good-bye, dream of a day."
And a little later, by the light of glowing torches of bamboo and with the music of guitars, we leave them on the road toward the town.
In the House of Tasio. 77
CHAPTER XIIL
IN THE HOUSE OF TASIO.
On the morning of the following day, Juan Crisostomo Ibarra, after visiting his estates, went to the house of Tasio, the philosopher, his father's friend.
Quiet reigned in the old man's garden. The swallows were flying about the gables of the house, but they were making scarcely a sound. The windows were covered with vines which clung to the old, moss-covered wall and made the house appear all the more solitary and quiet. Ibarra tied his horse to a post and, walking almost on tip-toes, crossed the clean and well-cultivated garden. He went up the stairs and, as the door was open, walked in. An old man leaned over a book in which he seemed to be writ- ing. On the walls of the room were collections of in- sects and leaves, maps, and some shelves of books and manuscripts.
Tasio was so absorbed in his work that he did not notice the arrival of the youth. The latter, not wish- ing to disturb the philosopher, tried to retire from the place, but the old man, looking up, said: "What? Are you here?" and showed no little surprise in his look.
"Excuse me," replied Ibarra, "I see that you are very busy."
"As a matter of fact I was writing a little, but it is not urgent, and I want to rest myself. Can I be useful to you in any way?"
Ibarra drew some papers from his pocket-book and replied: "My father was wont to consult you in many things, and I remember that he never had to do other than congratulate himself when he followed your advice. I have on my hands a small undertaiking and I want to be assured of success."
Ibarra then related to him briefly his plan for the erec- tion of a school house in honor of his betrothed. He
78 Friars and Filipinos.
ehowed tHe stupefied philosopher the plans whicK had been returned from Manila.
"I wish that you would advise me as to what persons I ought first to have on my side in order to make the undertaking most successful. You are well acquainted with the inhabitants of the town. I have just arrived here and am almost a stranger in my country.'^
The old man examined the plans which were laid out before him. His eyes were full of tears.
''That which you are going to carry out was a dream of mine, the dream of a poor fool/^ he exclaimed, greatly moved. ''And now, my first advice to you is that you never come to consult me in regard to the matter."
The young man looked at him in surprise.
"Because sensible people," he continued, in an ironical tone, "will take you for a fool, like myself. People al- ways consider every one a fool who does not think just as they do and, for this reason, they call me crazy. But I am obliged to them for that, for woe be to me when the time arrives that they say I have sense ! That day, should it ever come, would deprive me of the little liberty which I have purchased by sacrificing my reputation for being sane."
And the old man shook his head, as if to drive away a thought and continued: "My second advice to you is that you consult the curate, the gohernadorcillo, and all the people of good standing. They will all give you bad, fool- ish and useless advice, but to consult does not mean to obey. Try to appear to be following their advice as far as possible and make them think you are working ac- cording to their wishes."
Ibarra sat thinking for a moment and then replied: "The advice is good but difficult to follow. Could I not carry out my work without a shadow reflecting upon it? Could I not carry out the good work in spite of all ? Does truth need to be clothed in the garments of falsehood?"
"That's it. Nobody likes the bare truth."
"I hope to be able to realize all my hopes without en- countering great resistance," said Ibarra.
"Yes, if the priests lend you their hand; no, if they draw it away. All your efforts will be battered to pieces
In the House of Tasio 79
against tHe walls of the curate's house. The alcalde will deny to you to-morrow what he has granted you to-day. Not a mother will let her son attend the school, and then all your efforts will have just an opposite effect to that in- tended. You will discourage all others who might wish to attempt beneficent undertakings."
"Nevertheless," replied Ibarra, "I cannot believe in this power of which you speak. And even supposing it to be true, admitting that it is as you say, would I not still have on my side the sensible people and the Govern- ment?"
"The Government! The Government!" exclaimed the philosopher, raising his eyes and looking at the ceiling. "However much the Government may desire to uplift the country for its own benefit and that of the mother coun- try; however generous may be the Catholic Kings in spirit, I must remind you in confidence that there is an- other power which does not allow the Government to see, hear, or judge except what the curates or provincial priests wish. The Government is afraid of the advance- ment of the people, and the people are afraid of the forces of the Government. So long as the Government does not understand the people of the country, the country will never get out from this guardianship. The people will live like weak, young children who tremble at the sound of the voice of their tutor, whose mercy they beg. The Government has no dreams of a great future, a healthy development of the country. The people do not com- plain, because they have no voice. They do not move, because they are too carefully watched. You say that they do not suffer, because you have not seen what would make your heart bleed. But some day you will see it! alas ! some day you will hear it. When the light of day is thrown on their monstrous forms, you will see a fright- ful reaction. That great force, held back for centuries, that poison, distilled drop by drop, those sighs, so long repressed — all will come to light and will some day burst forth. . . . Who will then pay the accounts which the people will present and which History preserves for us on its bloody pages?"
"God, the Government, and the Church will never allow
80 Friars and Filipinos.
that day to come V replied Crisostomo, impressed in spite of himself. "The Filipinos are religious and they love Spain. The Filipinos will always know how much this nation has done for them. There are abuses ; yes ! There are defects; I do not deny it. But Spain is working to introduce reforms which will correct them; she is de- vising plans; she is not selfish. Can it be that my love for my native land is incompatible with love for Spain? Is it necessary to lower one's self to be a good Christian, to prostitute one's own conscience to bring about good? I love my fatherland, the Philippines, because I owe to her my life and my happiness — ^because every man should love his native land. I love Spain, the fatherland of my ancestors, because, in spite of all that may be said, the Philippines owe to Spain, and always will owe to her, their happiness and their future. I am a Catholic. I hold dear the belief of my fathers, and I do not see why I have to bow my head when I am able to raise it; nor why I have to entrust it to my enemies, when I can trample on them."
^'Because the field in which you are sowing your seed is in the hands of your enemies, and you are weak in com- parison to them. . . . It is necessary that you first kiss the hand "
But the young man did not allow him to go farther and exclaimed violently : "To kiss their hands ! You for- get that, between them, they killed my father; they threw his body out of its sepulchre: but I, I who am his son, I do not forget it, and, if I do not avenge myself, it is because I consider the prestige of the Church."
The old philosopher bowed his head. "Senor Ibarra," he replied slowly, "if you keep those memories — mem- ories which I cannot advise you to forget — if you keep those memories, give up your plans and your undertaking and try to work good for your countrymen in another way. The undertaking needs another man than you for its exe- cution, because to carry it out will not only require money and care, but, in our country, self-denial, tenacity and faith are also needed. The land is not read3r for it; it has been sown only with darnel."
Ibarra understood the weight of these words, but he
In the House of Tasio. 81
was not going to be discouraged. Thoughts of Maria Clara filled his mind; he must fulfill his promise to her. "Does not your experience suggest something other than this hard method?" he asked in a low voice.
The old man took him by the arm and led him to the window. A cool breeze was blowing from the north. Be- fore his eyes lay the garden, stretching out to the large forest which served as a park.
"Why do we not have to do the same as that weak young bush loaded with roses and buds?'' said the phi- losopher pointing to a beautiful rose bush. "The wind blows, shakes it and it bends itself down as if trying to hide its precious load. If the bush kept itself erect, it would be broken off, the wind would scatter its flowers and the buds would be blighted. The wind passes over, and the bush straightens itself up again, proud of its treasure. Thus it would be with you, a plant trans- planted from Europe to this stony ground, if you did not look about for some support and belittle yourself. Alone and lofty, you are in bad condition."
"And would this sacrifice bring the fruits that I hope for?" asked Ibarra. "Would the priest have faith in me and would he forget the offense? Would his kind not be able to feign friendship, to make a false show of protect- ing me, and then, from behind in the darkness, fight me, harass me and wound my heels, thus making me waver more quickly than they could by attacking me face to face ? Given these premises, what do you think could be ex- pected?"
The old man remained silent for some time, not being able to reply. At last he said: "If such a thing took place, if the undertaking failed,I would console you with the thought that you had done all that was in your power. And even so, something would be gained. Lay the first stone, sow the first seed and after the tempest has passed over, some little grain perhaps would germinate."
"I believe you," exclaimed Ibarra, stretching out his hand. "Not in vain did I look for good advice. This very day I shall go and make friends with the curate."
Taking leave of the old man, he mounted on his horse and rode away.
82 Friars and Filipinos.
"Attention!'^ murmured the pessimistic philosoplier to himself, as he followed the young man with his eyes. "Let us observe carefully how Destiny will unfold the tragedy which began in the cemetery/'
But this time the philosopher was truly mistaken. The tragedy had begun long before.
The Eve of the Fiesta. 83
CHAPTER XIV.
THE EVE OF THE FIESTA.
It is the tenth of November, the eve of the fiesta to be celebrated in the town of San Diego. Departing from its habitual monotony, the town is displaying extraordi- nary activity in the church, houses, streets, cock-pit, and the fields. Windows are draped with flags and many- colored decorations. Music and the sound of exploding fireworks fill the air. Everywhere there is rejoicing.
In the streets at fixed intervals, beautifid arches of bamboo are raised, the wood carved and worked in a thou- sand dijfferent ways. The arches are surrounded with or- naments, the very sight of which brings joy to the heart of the small boy. In the church yard, a large and costly awning has been erected. It is propped up by bamboo poles and so arranged that the procession may pass under it. Under its shade the children play, run, jump, fall and otherwise manage to tear and soil their new shirts, which have been intended for the day of the festival.
In the public square a platform has been built of bamboo, nipa and boards, to serve as the stage. It is here that the comedy company from Tondo will tell wonderful tales, and will compete with the gods in the performance of miracles. Here Marianito, Chananay, Balbino, Ratia, Carvajal, Yeyeng, Liceria and the others will sing and dance. The Filipino loves the theatre, and always attends dramatic productions with a great deal of pleasure. The gohernadorcillo was very fond of the theatre, and, with the advice of the curate, he had selected for the fiesta the fantastic comedy: "Prince Villardo, or the Nails Pulled Out of the Infamous Cave," a play full of magic and fireworks.
From time to time the bells ring out their merry sounds. Firecrackers and the booming of little cannon rend the
84 Friars and Filipinos.
air. The Filipino pyrotechnist, who has learned his art without a teacher of any renown, displays his skill, setting up pieces representing towers, castles, and the like. Already the small boys are running at break-neck speed to- ward the outskirts of the town to meet the bands of music. Five organizations have been hired, besides three orchestras. A band enters the town playing lively marches, and is followed by a lot of ragged and half naked pickaninnies: this one, perhaps, has on his brother's shirt; that one, his father's trousers. As soon as the music stops, these little tots know by memory the piece that has been played ; they whistle and hum it with great delight, showing at this early age their musical talent.
In the meantime wagons and carriages arrive, bring- ing relatives, friends, and strangers. Gamblers are also on hand with their best fighting cocks and bags of money, ready to risk their fortunes on the green cloth or in the cock-pit.
"The alferez gets fifty dollars a night," murmured a little, chubby man when he heard of the recent arrivals, for there were already many rumors that these people bribed the officer so that they might not be interfered with by the law. "Captain Tiago," he added, "is going to come and will be banker in the monte game. Captain Joaquin brings eighteen thousand. There is going to be a liam-po* and the Chino Carlos is going to back it with ten thousand pesos capital. Big bettors will come from Tanauan, Lipa, and Batangas, as well as from Santa Cruz. It's going to be great ! It's going to be great ! This year Captain Tiago will not skin us as he has in the past, for he has not paid for more than three masses this year, and besides, I have a mutya\ of cacao. And how are all the family?" "Very well, very well, thank you!" replied the visitors from the country.
But the place where the greatest animation reigns, where
there is almost a tumult, is over there on the level piece of
ground, a short distance from Ibarra's house. Pulleys
creak, and the place resounds with the sound of the ham-
*A Chinese gambliDg game.
t A little white, pearl-like substance sometimes found in the cacao tree, which is supposed to be a lucky omen.
The Eve of the Fiesta. 85
mer, the chiseling of stones, hewing of beams and the shouting of voices. A gang of workmen is making an excavation which will be wide and deep; others are busy piling up quarry stone, unloading carts, sifting sand, put- ting a capstan in place and so on.
"Put that here! That, there! Come, be lively about it I" shouts a little, old man with an animated and intelli- gent physiognomy as he goes about, a yard stick and plumb line in hand. He is the director of the work, Nor Juan, architect, mason, carpenter, whitewasher, locksmith, painter, stone cutter, and, on occasion, sculptor.
"We must finish it immediately! To-morrow nothing can be done, and day after to-morrow the ceremony of laying the corner stone is to take place ! Come, be lively !"
"Make the hole just large enough for this cylinder!" said he to one of the stone cutters who was chiseling off a large quadrangular stone. "Inside of this our names will be kept.^'
Then he would repeat to every countryman who came along what he had already said a thousand times : "Do you know what we are going to build? Well, it is a school house, a model of its kind, something like those in Ger- many, but still better. The architect, Senor K., draughted the plans and I, I am in charge of the work. Yes, sir, you see this is going to be a regular palace with two wings, one for the boys and one for the girls. Here in the middle is to be a large garden with three fountains. There, on the sides, groves, where the children can sow and cultivate plants during the hours of recreation, thus improving the time. Just see how deep the foundations are to be : three meters and seventy-five centimeters. The building is going to have a cellar where the indolent pupils will be confined. This will be very close to the playing ground and the gym- nasium, so that those who are punished may hear the diligent pupils enjoying themselves. Do you see this large space? Well, this will be a place for them to run and jump. The girls wiil have a separate garden with benches, swings, a special place for jumping the rope and rolling hoops, fountains and a bird-house. This is going to be magnificent !"
83 Friars and Filipinos.
He kept going from one end to the other, inspecting everything and passing his opinion on all.
"1 find that you have got too much lumber here for a crane," said he to a yellowish-looking fellow, who was directing some other laborers. "I would have enough, with three large beams, to form the tripod and with three others to serve as supporters."
"0, pshaw!" replied the other, smiling in a peculiar way. "The more apparatus we give ourselves, the greater effect we will produce. The massiveness of it will make a bigger show and give it more importance. They will say: 'What a lot of work has been done!' You look at that crane that I am constructing. In a little while, I am going to ornament it with handerolas, garlands of flowers and leaves, and . . . you will say afterward that you were right in hiring me, and Senor Ibarra cannot wish for more than that!"
The man laughed. 'Not Juan also smiled and shook his head.
As a matter of fact, the plan for the school had been approved by everybody and all were talking about it. The curate had asked to be allowed to be one of the patrons of the enterprise and he himself was to bless the laying of the corner stone, a ceremony which would take place on the last day of the San Diego festival, as it was con- sidered one of the great solemnities.
The dismal presentiments of the old Tasio seemed to have been dissipated forever. One day Ibarra told the old man so, but the old pessimist only replied: "Things may go well at first, but be on your guard against masked
As Night Comes On. 87
CHAPTEK XV.
AS NIGHT COMES ON.
Great preparations had also been made in the house of Captain Tiago. We are already acquainted with the man. His love for pomp and his pride in being a resi- dent of Manila made it necessary that he should outdo the residents of the province in the splendor of his cele- bration. There was another thing, too, which made it necessary that he should try to eclipse all others — the fact that his daughter Maria Clara and his future son-in-law were also there. His prospective connection with Ibarra caused the Captain to be often spoken of among the people.
Yes, as a matter of fact, one of the most serious news- papers in Manila had printed an article on its first page, headed "Imitate Him !" in which they offered Ibarra much advice and highly eulogized him. The article spoke of him as "the illustrious and rich young capitalist." Two lines below, he was termed "the distinguished philan- thropist," and, in the following paragraph, referred to as the "disciple of Minerva who went to his Mother Coun- try to salute the real birthplace of arts and sciences." Captain Tiago was burning with generous emulation and was wondering whether he ought not to erect a convent at his own expense.
Days before the week of festivities, numerous boxes of provisions and drinks, colossal mirrors, pictures, paintings and his daughter's piano had arrived at the house. Maria Clara and Aunt Isabel were already living there. Cap- tain Tiago came on the day before the beginning of the festival. As he kissed his daughter's hand, he made her a present of a beautiful religious relic. It was solid gold, and set with diamonds and emeralds, and contained a little sliver from Saint Peter's boat, in .which Our Saviour sat while fishing.
88 Friars and Filipinos.
The Captain^s interview with his future son-in-law could not have been more cordial. Naturally, the school house was the subject of conversation. Captain Tiago wanted him to call the school "The San Francisco School.'^
"Believe meV he said. "San Francisco is a good patron saint. If you call it 'The Primary School/ you gain nothing. Who is Primary, anyway?''
Some friends of Maria Clara arrived and invited her to go for a walk.
"But return quickly," said the Captain to his daughter, who asked for his permission. "You know that Father Damaso is going to dine with us to-night. He has just arrived."
And turning to Ibarra who was deep in thought, he added: "You will dine with us, too? You will be all alone at home."
"With the greatest pleasure, I assure you, if I did not have to be at home to-night to receive visitors," replied the young man, mumbling his words and evading Maria Clara's glance.
"Bring your friends along with you," replied Captain Tiago cheerfully. "In my house there is always enough to eat. And, besides I would like to have you and Father Damaso understand each other."
"There'll be time enough for that," replied Ibarra, put- ting on a forced smile and making ready to accompany the young ladies.
They went downstairs. Maria Clara was walking be- tween Victoria and Iday, while Aunt Isabel followed be- hind.
As they passed down the street, people stood aside re- spectfully and gave them the inside of the way. Maria Clara was surprisingly beautiful now. Her paleness had disappeared, and although her eyes were thoughtful, her mouth, on the contrary, seemed all smiles. With that amiability known only to a happy maiden, she saluted friends she had known from childhood who to-day were admirers of her youthful beauty. In less than fifteen days she had regained that frank confidence, that child- ish chatter, jvhich seemed for awhile to have been left
As Night Comes On. 89
behind in the narrow walls of the convent. It seemed as though the butterfly upon leaving its shell knew all the flowers at once. It was enough that she be given a mo- ment of flight and an opportunity to warm herself in the golden rays of the sun, in order to throw off the rigidity of the chrysalis. New life shone out in every part of her young being. Everything she met with was good and beautiful. Her love was manifested with virginal grace, and innocent in thought, she saw nothing to cause her to put on false blushes. However, she was wont to cover her face with her fan when they joked with her, but her eyes would smile and a gentle tremor would pass over hei: whole being.
In front of Captain Basilio's house were some young men who saluted our acquaintances and invited them into the house. The merry voice of Sinang was heard, as she descended the stairs on a run and at once put an end to all excuses.
"Come up a moment so that I can go out with you,'' said she. "It bores me to be among so many strangers who talk about nothing but fighting-cocks and playing cards.''
They went upstairs. The house was full of people. Some advanced to greet Ibarra, whose name was known to all. They contemplated with ecstacy Maria Clara's beauty, and some of the matrons murmured as they chewed their betel-nut: "She looks like the Virgin!"
After they had partaken of chocolate they resumed their walk. In the corner of the plaza a beggar was sing- ing the romance of the fishes, to the accompaniment of a guitar. He was a common sight, a man miserably dressed and wearing a wide-brimmed hat made out of palm leaves. His clothing consisted of a frock coat covered with patches, and a pair of wide trousers such as the Chinese wear, but torn in many places. From beneath the brim of his hai two fiery orbs flashed out a ray of light. He was tall and from his manner seemed to be young. He put a basket down on the ground and, after- wards walking away from it a little distance, he uttered strange, unintelligible sounds. He remained standing, completely isolated, as if he and the people^in the_street
90 Friars and Filipinos."^
were trying to avoid each other. Women approached his basket, and dropped into it fish, fruit and rice. When there was no one else to approach the basket, other sadder bnt less mournful sounds could be heard; perhaps he was thanking them. He picked up his basket and walked away to do the same in another place.
Maria Clara felt that this was a pitiful case. Full of interest, she asked about the strange being.
^'It is a leper," replied Iday. "He contracted the disease some four years ago; some say by taking care of his mother, others by having been confined in a damp prison. He lives there in the field near the Chinese ceme- tery. He does not communicate with any one: everybody flees from him on account of the fear of contagion. You should see his fantastic little house! The wind, the rain and the sunshine go in and out of it as a needle goes through cloth. They have prohibited him from touching anything belonging to anybody. One day a little child fell into the canal. The canal was deep, but this man happened to be passing near and helped to get the little child out. The child's father learned of it, made a com- plaint to the gohernadorcillo and the latter ordered that he be given six stripes in the middle of the street, the whip to be afterwards burned. That was atrocious! The leper ran away howling; they pursued him and the go- hernadorcillo cried out: Tatch him! One might better be drowned than have that disease !' "
"That is true," murmured Maria Clara. And then, without noticing what she was doing, she went up to the basket of the unfortunate wretch and dropped into it the relic which her father had Just presented to her.
"What have you done?" her friends asked her.
"I have nothing else to give him," she replied, con- cealing the tears in her eyes by a smile.
"And what is he going to do with the relic?" said Victoria to her. "One day they gave him money but he pushed it away from him with his cane. Why would he care for it, if no one would accept anything coming from him ? If he could only eat the relic !"
Maria Clara looked longingly at the women who were celling provisions and shrugged her shoulders.
As Night Comes On. 91
But the leper approached the basket, picked up the piece of jewelry which shone in his hands, knelt down, kissed it, and, after taking off his hat, buried his face in the dust on which the young girl had walked.
Maria Clara hid her face behind her fan and raised her handkerchief to her eyes.
92 Friars and Filipinos.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE HOISTING CRANE.
While two of the actors were singing the Incarnatus est in the church at the celebration of mass on the last day of the fiesta, and all were kneeling and the priests were bowing their heads, a man whispered in Ibarra's ear : "During the ceremony of the blessing of the corner stone, do not go near the priest, do not go in the ditch, do not approach the corner stone. Your life will depend on it.''
Ibarra looked and saw that it was Elias, the pilot, but, as soon as he had spoken, he lost himself in the crowd.
The yellow-skinned man kept his word. It was not a simple lifting crane which he had built over the ditch for the purpose of lowering the enormous block of granite. It was not the mere tripod which ;N"or Juan had wanted for holding a tackle-block. It was something more. It was at the same time a machine and an ornament, grand and imposing.
The confusing and complicated scaffolding had been raised to a height of more than eight meters. Four heavy timbers buried in the ground and supporting each other with colossal, diagonal braces, served as the base. The braces were joined to each other by immense nails, about half driven into the wood, perhaps because the apparatus was only of a provisional nature, and it could then be more easily taken down. Enormous cables were hanging from all sides, giving the entire apparatus an aspect of solidity and grandeur. The top was gay with flags and banners of various colors, floating pennants, and massive garlands of flowers and leaves, all artistically interwoven.
On high, in the shade of the projecting timbers, ban- ners and wreaths, a large three-wheeled tackle-block was suspended by ropes and iron hooks. Over the shining
The Hoisting Crane. 93
rims of these pulleys great cables passed, holding sus- pended in the air a massive stone. The center of this stone had been chiseled out so that when lowered upon the hollowed stone, which had already been placed in the ditch, a small enclosure would be formed between the two. This space was to contain an account of the ceremonies, newspapers, manuscripts and coins, to be transmitted, per- haps, to other generations, in the far distant future. From this tackle-block at the top of the structure, the cable passed down to another smaller pulley which was fastened at the base of the apparatus. Through this pulley, the cable passed to the cylinder of a windlass which was held to the ground by massive beams. This windlass which can be operated by only two hands, multiplies man's strength by means of a series of cog-wheels. Although there is a gain in force, there is of course a loss in velocity.
"Look !" said the yellow-skinned man, as he gave the crank a turn. "Look, 'Rot Juan, with my strength alone, I can raise and lower that massive block of stone. This is so nicely arranged that I cap control the ascent or descent of the stone by inches. Thus one man below can arrange the two stones in place, while I manipulate the apparatus from here."
Nor Juan could but admire the man as he smiled in such a peculiar manner. The curious people standing about made comments and praised the yellow-skinned man for his work.
"Who taught you the mechanism?" asked iR'or Juan.
"My father, my father who is now dead," he replied, with that same peculiar smile.
"And who taught your father?"
"Don Saturnino, the grandfather of Don Crisostomo."
"I did not know that Don Saturnine "
"Oh, he knew a good many things. Not only did he know how to whip well and how to expose his workmen to the rays of the sun, but he knew also how to awaken the sleeping and how to make those awake sleep. In time, you will see what my father has taught me, you will see !"
And the yellow fellow smiled in a strange manner.
At two eating stands, there was now being prepared a sumptuous and abundant breakfast. However, on the
94 Friars and Filipinos.
table designated for the little ones of the school, there was no wine, but instead a larger amount of fruit. In a covered passage which joined the two stands, there were seats for the musicians and a table covered with sweet- meats, candies and flasks of water, ornamented with leaves and flowers, for the thirsty public.
The crowd, resplendent in gay-colored clothes, was al- ready fleeing from the hot rays of the sun and gathering under the shade of the trees or of the covering. The small boys climbed the trees near the place, in order to get a better view of the ceremony, and looked with envy upon the school children, who, clean and well dressed, were occupying a place designated for them. The fathers of the school children were enthusiastic. They, poor coun- trymen that they were, would have the pleasure of seeing their children eat on a white table cloth, just like the curate and the Alcalde. Merely to think of it was enough to drive away their hunger.
Soon strains of music were heard in the distance. A promiscuous crowd of persons of all ages and dress was preceding the band. The yellow-looking man was uneasy and was examining the whole apparatus. A curious coun- tryman was also following his glances and was observing every movement he made. This countryman was Elias, who had also come to attend the ceremony. His hat and his style of dress almost concealed his identity. He had secured the best possible place for himself, right up close to the crane, on the edge of the excavation.
With the band of music came the Alcalde, the officials of the town, the friars, with the exception of Father Damaso, and the Spanish employees of the Government. Ibarra was conversing with the Alcalde, for they had become quite friendly from the time the young man paid him some high compliments on his insignia, decorations and cordon. Pride in belonging to an aristocratic family was a weakness of His Excellency. Captain Tiago, the alferez and several wealthy persons, with their shining silk hats, walked along, surrounded by a group of young- sters. Father Salvi followed, the same as ever, silent and pensive.
The young man could feel his heart beat as they ap«
^ * "* The Hoisting Crane. 95
preached the designated place. Instinctively, he glanced at the strange-looking scaffolding which had been raised there. He saw, too, the yellow-looking man who saluted him with respect, and, for a moment, Ibarra fixed his eyes on him. To his surprise, Ibarra also discovered Elias on the edge of the excavation. He gave the young pilot a significant look, letting him understand that he remem- bered what he had said in the church.
The curate put on his sacerdotal vestments and began the ceremony. The one-eyed sacristan mayor held the book and a choir boy was charged with the water-sprinkler and the vessel of blessed water. The others who stood around about, their heads uncovered, maintained a deep silence. In spite of the fact that Father Salvi read in a low tone, it could be noticed that his voice trembled.
In the meantime the articles, such as manuscripts, newspapers, medals and coins, which were to be placed in the corner stone had been enclosed in a little glass box, and hermetically sealed in a leaden cylinder.
"Senor Ibarra, do you wish to put the box in its place? The curate awaits it," said the Alcalde to Ibarra.
"I would do so with much pleasure," replied he, ''but I would be usurping the honorable duty of the Senor Notary. The Notary ought to attest the act."
The Notary took it seriously, descended the carpeted stairs to the bottom of the excavation and, with fitting solemnity, deposited the box in the hollow which had been made in the stone. The curate then took up the sprinkler and sprinkled the stones with holy water.
The time had now come for each one to put his trowel- ful of mortar on the surface of the stone, which lay in the ditch, so that the other stone might fit upon it and be made to adhere to it.
Ibarra presented the Alcalde with a trowel, upon whose wide silver blade was engraved the date. But His Ex- cellency first delivered an address in Spanish.
"Citizens of San Diego," he said in a solemn tone. "I have the honor to preside at a ceremony the importance of which you already understand. A school is beiug founded. The school is the base of society. The school is the book in which is written the future of the people. Show me
96 Friars and Filipinos.
the schools of a people and I will tell you what those people are.
"Citizens of San Diego! Thank God that he has given you virtuous priests; and the Mother Country that she untiringly diffuses her civilization over these fertile islands, protected by her glorious flag. Thank God that she has had pity for you, bringing you these humble priests that they may enlighten you and teach you the divine word. Thank the Government for the great sacrifices it has made, makes now and will make in the future for you and your sons.
"And now that the first stone of this great edifice has been blessed, I, Alcalde Mayor of this province, in the name of His Majesty, the King, whom God guard. King of the Spains, in the name of the illustrious Spanish Government, and under its spotless and ever victorious banner, I consecrate this act and begin the building of this school.
"Citizens of San Diego! Long live the King! Long live Spain! Long live the Church! Long live the priests ! Long live the Catholic religion !"
^'Yiva! VivaT replied the others. "Long live the 'Alcalde r
The Alcalde majestically descended to the accompani- ment of the music which had begun to play. He placed some trowels of mortar on the stone and mth equal majesty ascended the stairs.
The Government employees applauded.
Ibarra offered another silver trowel to the curate, who, after fixing his eyes on him for a moment, descended slowly to the bottom of the excavation. When about half way down the stairs, he raised his eyes to look at the stone which hung suspended in the air by the powerful cables, but he only looked at it for a second and then de- scended. He did the same as the Alcalde had done, but this time more applause was heard, for the Government employees were assisted by the other friars and Captain Tiago.
Father Salvi seemed to be searching for some one to whom to hand the trowel. He looked with hesitation toward Maria Clara, but, changing his mind, he offered
The Hoisting Crane. 97
it to tHe Notary. The latter, for the sake of gallantry, approached Maria Clara, who declined it with a smile. The friars, the Government employees and the alferez, one after another went down and repeated the ceremony. Captain Tiago was not forgotten.
Ibarra had been omitted. He was abont to order the yellow man to lower the other stone, when the curate remembered him. In a pleasant tone and, with an affec- tation of familiarity, he said to him. "Aren't you going to put on your trowelful, Senor Ibarra?"
"I would be like the fellow who made the stew and then ate it," replied the young man in the same tone.
"0, go on !" said the Alcalde, giving him a gentle push. "If you don't, I will order them not to lower the stone and then we will have to wait here till Judgment Day."
So terrible a threat forced Ibarra to obey. He ex- changed the small silver trowel for a larger iron one, which made some of the people smile. He advanced quietly and descended the stairs. Elias looked at him with an indescribable expression. If you had seen him, you would have thought that all his life was concentrated in his eyes. The yellow man looked down into the abyss opening at his feet.
Ibarra, after glancing at the stone which hung over his head, and then at Elias and the yellow man, said to S'or Juan in a trembling voice: "Give me the bucket of mortar and find another trowel for me above."
The young man stood alone. Elias was no longer look- ing at him; his eyes instead were riveted on the yellow man's hand, while the latter leaned over the ditch and followed with anxiety the movements of Ibarra.
The noise of the trowel removing a mass of sand and lime was heard, accompanied by the low murmur of the employees who were congratulating the Alcalde on his address.
Suddenly there was a frightful creaking. -The pulley which was tied to the base of the crane jumped and then the windlass struck the apparatus like a battering-ram. The timbers swayed, ropes flew into the air and, in a second, all came down with a terrible crash. A cloud of dust was raised, and a thousand cries filled the air.
98 Friars and Filipinos.
Nearly all fled; a few hurried to the ditch. Only Maria Clara and Father Salvi remained in their places without moving, both pale and silent.
When the cloud of dust had partially cleared away, Ibarra could be seen standing among a mass of beams, bamboos, and cables, between the windlass and the massive stone, which in its descent had shaken and crushed every- thing. The young man was still holding the trowel in his hand, his eyes staring with fright at the dead body of a man which was lying at his feet, half buried under the timbers.
"Are you hurt? — Are you still alive? For God's sake speak!'' said some of the employees, full of terror.
"Miracle! a miracle!" cried some.
"Come and remove the body of this unfortunate man," said Ibarra, as if awakening from a dream.
On hearing his voice, Maria Clara felt her strength giving way and she fell, half fainting, into the arms of her friends.
Great confusion reigned. Everybody was talking, ges- ticulating, and running from one side to the other, up and down the stairs, all stupefied and full of consterna- tion.
"Who is the dead man? Is he still alive?" asked the alferez.
The body was identified as the yellow workman who had been standing beside the windlass.
"Let proceedings be brought against the superintend- ent of the work," was the first thing that the Alcalde said.
They examined the body, felt of the heart, but it was no longer beating. The blow had fallen on the head and blood was oozing from the nose, ears and mouth. Some strange marks were seen on the man's neck. There were four deep dents on one side and a single but deeper one on the other. It looked as though an iron hand had grasped it like a pair of pinchers.
The priests warmly congratulated the young man and shook his hand.
'^hen I think that only a few moments ago I was standing there," said one of the employees. "Say! If I had been the last ! JesusT
The Hoisting Cran9. 99
''It makes my hair stand on end," said another, who was bald.
Ibarra had departed, to ascertain the condition of Maria Clara.
"Let this not prevent the festival from continuing," said the Alcalde. "God be praised ! The dead man is neither a priest nor a Spaniard ! Your escape must be celebrated ! Just think — if the stone had fallen on you!"
"There is such a thing as a presentiment!" said the Notary. "I said so. Senor Ibarra was reluctant to