Part 10 (1/2)

[Ill.u.s.tration: FORT SANTIAGO.]

The seacoast towns were under the leaders.h.i.+p of Emilio Aguinaldo, a young radical, who was already a recognized leader among the local disaffected. The Spaniards had not expected this outbreak in Cavite.

Aguinaldo had personally a.s.sured the governor of the province of his devotion to Spain, but when fighting began isolated Spanish officers were killed and their families carried into captivity. The difficulties, of the Spaniards were increased by the fact that the defense of Manila and Cavite until reinforcements arrived, would be largely in the hands of native troops, among whom the Katipunan was known to have been at work. But the troops of the old native regiments--the men who for years had followed Spanish officers--were on the whole faithful, and it was largely due to them that Manila and Cavite were held.

The leaders in the insurrection were of that cla.s.s who called themselves _il.u.s.trados_, enlightened, a cla.s.s whose blood is, in almost every case, partly Spanish or partly Chinese. The supremacy of the friars was pa.s.sing, and men of this cla.s.s intended to be the heirs to their domain. The idea of forming a republic and even of adopting the t.i.tles appropriate to a republic to designate the functionaries of a Malay despotism was an afterthought.

Reinforcements arrived from Spain, and by June 10, 1897, the insurrection was broken, and Aguinaldo with his remaining adherents had taken refuge at Biacnabato, some sixty miles from Manila. He was now without a rival, for Bonifacio had dared to attempt his life, had been brought before a court-martial, had been condemned to death and had disappeared.

Aguinaldo, who now called himself not only Generalissimo of the Army of Liberation but President of the Revolutionary Government, had adopted guerilla warfare, and the Spanish commands were forced to follow an enemy who was never dangerous to large bodies, but who always was to small ones--an enemy who, wearing no uniform, upon the approach of a large body became peaceful labourers in the fields along the road, but were ready to pick up their rifles or bolos and use them against a small party or a straggler. Still, whatever they had fought for at first, the insurgent leaders were now fighting for their own safety.

The governor general sought in various ways to gain the support of the country. He called for Filipino volunteers, and, curiously enough, they responded with enthusiasm. The rapidity with which they were recruited was probably largely due to the activity of the friars. This added to the hatred of them felt by the cla.s.s of natives represented by Aguinaldo.

Between June and December, 1897, the time was spent in an obscure bargaining, the outcome of which was the so-called Treaty of Biacnabato, which Primo de Rivera--the governor general--has stated was merely a promise to pay a money bribe to the insurgents if they would cease a combat in which they had lost hope of success but which they could still prolong to the detriment of the resources and the prestige of Spain.

The result of the bargainings was that Spain agreed to pay eight hundred thousand Mexican dollars for the surrender of Aguinaldo and his princ.i.p.al leaders and the arms and ammunition in their possession. An amnesty was proclaimed. Aguinaldo and his leaders were sent to Hongkong under escort, where they declared themselves loyal Spanish subjects.

Primo de Rivera returned to Spain. As he received in return for the money only about two hundred rifles and a little ammunition, it is not probable that he made any of the promises of changes in the government of the archipelago which the Filipinos have insistently stated since then were the real objects of the agreement.

Whatever may have been the true motives which actuated the Spanish governor general in adopting this method of terminating a successful campaign, he succeeded in purchasing only an armistice and not a peace.

On January 23, 1898, a Te Deum was sung in the cathedral of Manila to mark the reestablishment of peace in the archipelago.

The insurgent leaders had been bought off and their followers had surrendered their arms.

As Spanish dominion in the Philippines was now about to close, let us stop a moment to inquire what it had brought to the Islands. It may have been hard and utterly unprogressive, but it turned the tribes of Luzon and the Visayas from tribal feuds and slave-raiding expeditions to agriculture.

To accomplish these results required untiring energy and a high enthusiasm among the missionaries. They had lived among savages, speaking their tongue, until they had almost forgotten their own. Spain had ceased to be everything to them; their order was their country.

Spanish officials came and went, but the ministers of the Church remained, and as they grew to be the interpreters of the wants of the people, in many cases their protectors against spoliation, power fell into their hands. It is rather interesting to learn that in 1619, in the reign of Philip III, it was proposed to abandon the Philippines on account of their useless expense to Spain, but a delegation of friars from the Islands implored him not to abandon the twenty thousand Christians they had converted, and the order was countermanded.

Spanish dominion left the people Christians, whereas, if the Islands had not been occupied by Spain, their people would in all probability to-day be Mohammedan. The point of view of the Spanish friars may not be ours, but when their efforts are judged by the good rather than the evil results, it can still be said that Spain gave Christianity and a long term of peace to the Philippine archipelago. The Filipinos are the only Christian Asiatics.

But Philippine history was to take an unexpected turn. The Spanish-American war broke out, and a new factor appeared upon the scene in the shape of Commodore Dewey and his fleet. We all know the story of the battle of Manila Bay, but we may just recall it briefly.

It was the night of April 30, 1898, that the American Asiatic squadron, which had received its orders at Hongkong, arrived off the Philippines.

They took a look first into Subig Bay, but seeing no enemy, they made their way into Manila Bay by the Boca Grande entrance. There were rumours of mines in the channel and big guns in the forts, but Dewey took the chance, and the fleet steamed in at night. The s.h.i.+ps formed two columns, the fighting s.h.i.+ps all in one line, and the auxiliary vessels about twelve hundred yards behind. They moved at the rate of their slowest vessel.

Black thunder clouds at times obscured even the crescent moon that partially lighted their course, but occasional lightning flashes gave the bold Americans a glimpse of frowning Corregidor and the sentinel rock of El Fraile. The s.h.i.+ps were dark except for one white light at the stern of each as a guide to the vessel next in line. As the _Olympia_ turned toward El Fraile her light was seen by a Spanish sentry. A sheet of flame from the smokestack of the _McCulloch_, a revenue cutter attached to the fleet, also betrayed its presence to the enemy at the same moment. El Fraile and a battery on the south sh.o.r.e of the bay at once opened fire, which was returned by the s.h.i.+ps to such good purpose that the battery was silenced in three minutes. Slowly, steadily, Dewey's s.h.i.+ps steamed on, and at dawn discovered the gray Spanish vessels lying in front of the naval a.r.s.enal at Cavite, over on the distant sh.o.r.e to the right. Admiral Montojo's flags.h.i.+p, the _Reina Cristina_, and the _Castilla_, and a number of smaller vessels, formed a curved line of battle, which was protected in a measure by the sh.o.r.e batteries. The Spaniards had one more s.h.i.+p than the Americans, but the latter had bigger guns.

Silently the American squadron advanced across the bay, with the Stars and Stripes flying from every s.h.i.+p. At quarter past five on the morning of May 1st, the Spanish s.h.i.+ps fired their first shots. When less than six thousand yards from their line, Dewey gave the famous order to Captain Gridley, in command of the _Olympia_: ”You may fire when you're ready, Gridley.”

Two hours later, the _Reina Cristina_ had been burned, the _Castilla_ was on fire, and all but one of the other Spanish vessels were abandoned and sunk. Dewey gave his men time for breakfast and a little rest, then sh.e.l.led and silenced the batteries at Cavite. Soon after noon the Spaniards surrendered, having lost 381 men and ten war vessels. Seven Americans were slightly wounded, but none were killed. So ended this famous battle.

CHAPTER III

INSURRECTION

Admiral Dewey took a great liking to General Anderson, ”Fighting Tom”

(L.'s cousin), the first military officer to command the American forces in the Philippines. On one occasion the Admiral fired a salute well after sundown (contrary to naval regulations) to compliment him on his promotion to the rank of major general, and scared the wits out of some of the good people ash.o.r.e. General Anderson has given me a few notes about his experiences at that time, which are of special interest.

”When in the latter part of April, 1898, I received an order relieving me from duty in Alaska and ordering me to the Philippines, I was engaged in rescuing a lot of people who had been buried by an avalanche in the Chilcoot Pa.s.s. I took my regiment at once to San Francisco, and there received an order placing me in command of the first military expedition to the Philippines. This was the first American army that ever crossed an ocean. We were given only two days for preparation. We were not given a wagon, cart, ambulance, or a single army mule, nor boats with which to land our men. I received fifty thousand dollars in silver and was ordered to render what a.s.sistance I could. I had never heard of Aguinaldo at that time, and all I knew of the Philippines was that they were famous for hemp, earthquakes, tropical diseases and rebellion.