An Ohio Woman in the Philippines Part 9

The cathedral of Cebu, built of stone, is especially fine. It has for its Patron Saint, a babe, Santa Nina. The story is that at one time there were a great many babies stricken with a malady; the parents vowed if the Holy Mother would spare their children they would build this cathedral.

One of the largest prisons is at Cebu. We were shown many of the dungeons; there were then confined within those walls many very bad Insurrectos.

As we were eager to visit one of the large estates, we were given a heavy guard and went inland about two miles from the port; it was certainly a fine plantation, much better kept than any I had ever seen before. We were apparently cordially received, and were a.s.sured if we would only stay we could partake of some of the family pig, that was even then wandering around in the best room in the house.

The floor of the large reception room was polished as perfectly as a piano top; its boards were at least eighteen inches wide and sixteen to twenty feet long. I asked several persons the name of this beautiful place, but could not find out. On the sideboard were quant.i.ties of fine china and silver that had been received only a few days before from Spain, there was a large grand piano, and there were eight or ten chairs in the center of the room forming a hollow square. Here we were seated and were offered refreshments of wine, cigars and "dulce." While this place seemed isolated it was not more than ten minutes before we had a gathering of several hundred natives, indeed our visit was shortened by the fear that we might be outnumbered and captured, and so we hastened back to quarters.

While all the islands are tropical in appearance, Cebu is pre-eminently luxuriant. We were sorry not to stay longer and learn more of its people and its industries.

Romblom is considered by many the most picturesque of the islands. The entrance is certainly beautiful; small ships can come up to the dock. The town itself is on the banks of a wonderful stream of water that has been brought down from the hills above. There is a finely constructed aqueduct that must have cost the Spaniards a great deal of money, even with cheap labor. It is certainly a very delightfully situated little town. This place is famous for its mats; they are woven of every conceivable color and texture, and are of all sizes, from those for a child's bed to those for the side of a house. The edges of some mats are woven to look like lace, and some like embroidery. They range in price from fifty cents to fifty dollars. Every one who visits Romblom is sure to bring away a mat.

On every island much corn is raised, perhaps for export; certainly the staple is rice. Quite a number of young men who were officers in our volunteer regiments, have located on the island of Guimeras, and I have no doubt that, with their New England thrift, they will be able to secure magnificent crops. The soil is amazingly rich; under skilled care it will produce a hundred fold. Many of the islands are so near to one another that it is an easy matter to pa.s.s from island to island.

LITERATURE.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.

In no house of any town, on any island, nor in the very best houses of the so-called very best families, did I ever see any books, newspapers, magazines, periodicals of any kind whatever. One woman triumphantly took out of a box a book, nicely folded up in wax paper, a history of the United States, printed in 1840. In a lower room of a large house, once a convent, but now occupied by two or three priests, there were perhaps four or five hundred books written in Spanish and Latin on church matters. One reason for the dearth of books is the difficulty of protecting them from the ravages of the ants. We found to our horror that our books were devoured by them. And then the times were troublous and things were out of joint. In the large seminary at Molo, where hundreds of girls are taught every year, I did not see a single book of any kind or any printed matter, except a few pamphlets concerning the Roman church. The girls work on embroideries, and surely for fineness they surpa.s.s all others. They do the most cobweb-like drawn work, and on this are wrought roses, lilies, and b.u.t.terflies with outspread wings that look as if they had just lighted down to sip the nectar from the blossoms; these very fine embroideries are done on the pina cloth. It is no wonder that the people would get even the advertis.e.m.e.nts on our canned goods and ask any American whom they met what the letters were and what the words meant. Our empty cans with tomato, pear, peach labels were to them precious things. Whereever our soldiers were, the adults and the children crowded around them and impromptu cla.s.ses were formed to spell out all the American words they could find; even the newspaper wrappers and the letter envelopes, that were thrown away, were carefully picked up so as to glean the meaning of these "Americano" words. There was near our quarters a very large building that was used for the education of boys; one can form some idea of the size of this building when two or three regiments were encamped there with all their equipments.

There may have been books here, once, but nothing was left when our troops occupied it except a few pictures on the walls, a few tables and desks, a few chairs and sleeping mats.

There was a little story in connection with the bell tower on one side of the plaza in Jaro; this tower was about eighty feet high, had a roof and niches for seven or eight good sounding bells. From the top of this tower one could see many miles in every direction; when the Philippine army fled from the town they immediately thought our soldiers might ascend the tower and watch their course, so they burned the staircases. Alas for the little children who had taken refuge in the tower! As the flames swept up the stairways, they fled before them; two of them actually clung to the clapper of one great bell, and there they hung until its frame was burned away and the poor little things fell with the falling bell. Their remains were found later by our soldiers, the small hands still faithful to their hold. The bells were in time replaced and doubtless still chime out the hours of the day. It is the duty of one man to attend to the bells; the greater the festival day the oftener and longer they ring. When they rang a special peal for some special service, I tried to attend. One day there was an unusual amount of commotion and clanging, so I determined to go over to the service. Hundreds of natives had gathered together. To my surprise, six natives came in bearing on their shoulders a bamboo pole; from this pole a hammock was suspended, in which some one was reclining; but over the entire person, hammock, and pole, was thrown a thick bamboo net, entirely concealing all within; it was taken up to the chancel and whoever was in that hammock was given the sacrament. He was, no doubt, some eminent civilian or officer, for the vast congregation rose to their feet when the procession came in and when it pa.s.sed out. I asked two or three of the Filipino women, whom I knew well, who it was, but they professed not to know. They always treated me with respect when I attended any of their services and placed a chair for me. I noticed how few carried books to church. I do not believe I ever saw a dozen books in the hands of worshipers in any of the cathedrals, and I visited a great many, five on Palm Sunday, 1900. I know from the children themselves, and from their teachers, that there are complaints about the size of the books and about the number which they have to get their lessons from in the new schools.

There are three American newspapers in Manila, and one American library. The grand success of the library more than repays all the cost and trouble of establishing it. One must experience it to know the joy of getting letters, magazines, papers, and books that come once or twice a month, only. It really seemed when the precious mail bags were opened that their treasures were too sacred to be even handled. We were so hungry and thirsty for news from home, for reading matter in this bookless country, where even a primer would have been a prize.

I alternated between pa.s.sive submission to island laziness, shiftlessness, slovenliness, dirt, and active a.s.sertion of Ohio vim. Sick of vermin and slime, I would take pail, scrubbing brush and lye, and fall to; sick of it all, I would get a Summit county breakfast, old fashioned pan cakes for old times' sake; sick of the native laundress who cleansed nothing, I would give an Akron rub myself to my own clothes and have something fit to wear. These attacks of energy depended somewhat on the temperature, somewhat on exhausted patience, somewhat on homesickness, but most on dread of revolt and attack; or of sickening news--not of battle, but of a.s.sa.s.sination and mutilation. Whether I worked or rested, I was careful to sit or stand close to a wall--to guard against a stab in the back. I smile now, not gaily, at the picture of myself over a washtub, a small dagger in my belt, a revolver on a stool within easy reach of my steady, right hand, rubbing briskly while the tears of homesickness rolled down in uncontrollable floods, but singing, nevertheless, with might and main:--

"Am I a soldier of the Cross, A follower of the Lamb?

And shall I fear to own His cause, Or blush to speak His name?

"Must I be carried to the skies On flowery beds of ease, While others fought to win the prize, And sailed through b.l.o.o.d.y seas?"

Singing as triumphantly as possible to the last verse and word of that ringing hymn. My door and windows were set thick with wondering faces and staring eyes, a Senora washing. These Americans were past understanding! And that revolver--they shivered as they looked at it, and not one doubted that it would be vigorously used if needed. And I looked at them, saying to myself, as I often did, "You poor miserable creatures, utterly neglected, utterly ignorant and degraded."

No wonder that the diseased, the deformed, the blind, the one-toed, the twelve-toed, and monstrous parts and organs are the rule rather than the exception. These things are true of nine-tenths of this people.

THE ADVERTISER.

ILOILO 25th. NOVEMBER 1899.

EXTRA.

Reuter's Telegrams.

THE TRANSVAAL WAR.

LONDON 25th. Novr.--The British losses at Belmont are stated at 48 killed, 146 wounded, and 21 missing. The losses include four Officers killed and 21 wounded and are chiefly Guardsmen.

50 Boers were taken prisoner, including the German commandant and six Field Cornets.

The British Infantry are said to have behaved splendidly and were admirably supported by the Artillery and the Naval Brigade, carrying three Ridges successively. The Victory is a most complete one. It is stated that the enemy fought with the greatest courage and skill.

This Extra was Issued Daily--Eighty-four Mexican Dollars per Year.

THE GORDON SCOUTS.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

The Gordon Scouts were a detachment made up of volunteers from the Eighteenth U. S. Infantry. They were under direct command of Captain W. A. Gordon and Lieutenant A. L. Conger. The captain lost health and was sent home; thus the troop was, for about a year, under the command of Lieutenant Conger. It would not be proper for me to tell of the wonderful expeditions and the heroic deeds of the Gordon Scouts. No one was more generous in praise of them than General Del Gardo, now governor of the Island of Panay. He told me often of his great esteem for my son and of the generous way in which he treated his prisoners and captives. Surely men were never kinder to a woman than these scouts were to me; they most affectionately called me Mother Conger and treated me always with the greatest respect and kindness. I hope some day the history of this brave band of men will be written, with its more than romantic campaigns and wonderful exploits, marches, dangers, and miraculous escapes. Few men were wounded or disabled, notwithstanding all the tedious marches in most impenetrable swamps and mountains, with no guide but the stars by night and the sun by day, and no maps or trusted men to guide them. I recall the bravery of one man who was shot through the abdomen, and when they stopped to carry him away he said, "Leave me here; I cannot live, and you may all be captured or killed." They tenderly placed him in a blanket, carried him to a place of safety, and, when he died, they brought him back to Jaro and buried him with military honors. He was the only man killed in all the months of their arduous tasks.

If I have any courage I owe it to my grandmother. I will perhaps be pardoned if I say that all my girlhood life was spent with my Grandmother Bronson, a very small woman, weighing less than ninety pounds, small featured, always quaintly dressed in the old-fashioned Levantine silk with two breadths only in the skirt, a crossed silk handkerchief with a small white one folded neatly across her breast, a black silk ap.r.o.n, dainty cap made of sheer linen lawn with full ruffles. She it was who entered into all my child life and who used to tell me of her early pioneer days, and of her wonderful experiences with the Indians. In the War of 1812, fearing for his little family, my grandfather started her back to Connecticut on horse back with her four little children, the youngest, my father, only six months old. The two older children walked part of the way; whoever rode had to carry the baby and the next smallest child rode on a pillion that was tied to the saddle. In this way she accomplished the long journey from Cleveland, Ohio, to Connecticut. When she used to tell me of the wonderful things that happened on this tedious journey, that took weeks and weeks to accomplish, I used to wonder if I should ever take so long a trip. I take pleasure in presenting the dearly loved grandmother of eighty-one and the little girl of ten.

While my dear little grandmother dreaded the Indians, I did the treacherous Filipinos; while she dreaded the wolves, bears and wild beasts, I did the stab of the ever ready bolo and stealthy natives, and the prospect of fire; she endured the pangs of hunger, so did I; and I now feel that I am worthy to be her descendant and to sit by her side.

TRIALS OF GETTING HOME.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

The first stages of my return home were from Iloilo to Manila, and thence to Nagasaki, the chief port of j.a.pan. Upon leaving Iloilo for Manila, my son accompanied me as far as Manila; he heard incidentally that he was to be made a staff officer; as I procured quick transportation as far as Nagasaki, I told him to return to his duties and I would get along some way. Upon reaching Nagasaki, the difficulties began. I went immediately to the various offices of steamship lines and found there was no pa.s.sage of any grade to be had. Many were fleeing from the various ports to get away from the plague and all steamers were crowded because of the reduced rates to the Pan-American Fair. Thinking I might have a better chance from Yokohama, I took pa.s.sage up there on the North German Lloyd line. I had a splendid state-room, fine service, the best of everything. I told the purser I should like to engage that same state-room back to Liverpool; he replied he could not take me, that I would not live to get there. I a.s.sured him that I was a good sailor, that I was very much emaciated with my long stay in the Philippines, that I would soon recover with his good food and the sea air; but he refused to take me. When I reached Yokohama, I immediately began to see if I could not secure sailing from there; day after day went by, it was the old story, everything taken. When the Gaelic was returning I told the captain that I would be willing to take even third cabin at first cla.s.s rates, but even thus there were no accommodations. Within an hour of the ship's sailing, word was brought to me that two women had given up their cabin and that I might have it; it was two miles out to the ship, with no sampan--small boat--of any kind to get my baggage out, so I tearfully saw this ship sail away. I then decided to return to Nagasaki to try again from that port. The voyage back was by the Empress line of steamers flying between Vancouver and Yokohama. Upon reaching Nagasaki again I appealed to the quarter-master to secure transportation; he said I could not get anything at all. Officers whom I had met in the Philippines proposed to take me and my baggage on board without the necessary red tape, in fact to make me a stow-away, but I refused. I cabled my son in New York to see if I could get a favorable order from Washington. I cabled Governor Taft, but he was powerless in the great pressure of our returning troops. In the meantime, I was daily growing weaker from the excitement and worry of being unable to do anything at all. The housekeeper of the very well-kept Nagasaki hotel was especially kind. She gave me very good attention and even the Chinese boy who took care of my room and brought my meals realized the desperate condition I was in. One day, with the deepest kind of solicitude on his otherwise stolid but child-like and bland face, he said:--

"Mrs., you no got husband?"

"No."