Discovery of the Archipelago
The discoveries of Christopher Columbus in 1492, the adventures and conquests of Hernan Cortés, Blasco Nuñez de Balboa and others in the South Atlantic, had awakened an ardent desire amongst those of enterprizing spirit to seek beyond those regions which had hitherto been traversed. It is true the Pacific Ocean had been seen by Balboa, who crossed the Isthmus of Panamá, but how to arrive there with his ships was as yet a mystery.
On April 10, 1495, the Spanish Government published a general concession to all who wished to search for unknown lands. This was a direct attack upon the privileges of Columbus at the instigation of Fonseca, Bishop of Búrgos, who had the control of the Indian affairs of the realm. Rich merchants of Cadiz and Seville, whose imagination was inflamed by the reports of the abundance of pearls and gold on the American coast, fitted out ships to be manned by the roughest class of gold-hunters: so great were the abuses of this common licence that it was withdrawn by Royal Decree of June 2, 1497.
It was the age of chivalry, and the restless cavalier who had won his spurs in Europe lent a listening ear to the accounts of romantic glory and wealth attained across the seas. That an immense ocean washed the western shores of the great American continent was an established fact. That there was a passage connecting the great Southern sea—the Atlantic—with that vast ocean was an accepted hypothesis. Many had sought the passage in vain; the honour of its discovery was reserved for Hernando de Maghallanes (Portuguese, Fernão da Magalhães).
This celebrated man was a Portuguese noble who had received the most complete education in the palace of King John II. Having studied mathematics and navigation, at an early age he joined the Portuguese fleet which left for India in 1505 under the command of Almeida. He was present at the siege of Malacca under the famous Albuquerque, and accompanied another expedition to the rich Moluccas, or Spice Islands, when the Islands of Banda, Tidor, and Ternate were discovered. It was here he obtained the information which led him to contemplate the voyage which he subsequently realized.
On his return to Portugal he searched the Crown Archives to see if the Moluccas were situated within the demarcation accorded to Spain.[1] In the meantime he repaired to the wars in Africa, where he was wounded in the knee, with the result that he became permanently lame. He consequently retired to Portugal, and his companions in arms, jealous of his prowess, took advantage of his affliction to assail him with vile imputations. The King Emmanuel encouraged the complaints, and accused him of feigning a malady of which he was completely cured. Wounded to the quick by such an assertion, and convinced of having lost the royal favour, Maghallanes renounced for ever, by a formal and public instrument, his duties and rights as a Portuguese subject, and henceforth became a naturalized Spaniard. He then presented himself at the Spanish Court, at that time in Valladolid, where he was well received by the King Charles I., the Bishop of Búrgos, Juan Rodriguez Fonseca, Minister of Indian Affairs, and by the Kingʼs chancellor. They listened attentively to his narration, and he had the good fortune to secure the personal protection of His Majesty, himself a well-tried warrior, experienced in adventure.
The Portuguese Ambassador, Alvaro de Acosta, incensed at the success of his late countryman, and fearing that the project under discussion would lead to the conquest of the Spice Islands by the rival kingdom, made every effort to influence the Court against him. At the same time he ineffectually urged Maghallanes to return to Lisbon, alleging that his resolution to abandon Portuguese citizenship required the sovereign sanction. Others even meditated his assassination to save the interests of the King of Portugal. This powerful opposition only served to delay the expedition, for finally the King of Portugal was satisfied that his Spanish rival had no intention to authorize a violation of the Convention of Demarcation.
Between King Charles and Maghallanes a contract was signed in Saragossa by virtue of which the latter pledged himself to seek the discovery of rich spice islands within the limits of the Spanish Empire. If he should not have succeeded in the venture after ten years from the date of sailing he would thenceforth be permitted to navigate and trade without further royal assent, reserving one-twentieth of his net gains for the Crown. The King accorded to him the title of Cavalier and invested him with the habit of St. James and the hereditary government in male succession of all the islands he might annex. The Crown of Castile reserved to itself the supreme authority over such government. If Maghallanes discovered so many as six islands, he was to embark merchandise in the Kingʼs own ships to the value of one thousand ducats as royal dues. If the islands numbered only two, he would pay to the Crown one-fifteenth of the net profits. The King, however, was to receive one-fifth part of the total cargo sent in the first return expedition. The King would defray the expense of fitting out and arming five ships of from 60 to 130 tons with a total crew of 234 men; he would also appoint captains and officials of the Royal Treasury to represent the State interests in the division of the spoil.
Orders to fulfil the contract were issued to the Crown officers in the port of Seville, and the expedition was slowly prepared, consisting of the following vessels, viz.: The commodore ship La Trinidad, under the immediate command of Maghallanes; the San Antonio, Captain Juan de Cartagena; the Victoria, Captain Luis de Mendoza; the Santiago, Captain Juan Rodriguez Serrano; and the Concepcion, Captain Gaspar de Quesada.
The little fleet had not yet sailed when dissensions arose.
Maghallanes wished to carry his own ensign, whilst Doctor Sancho Matienza insisted that it should be the Royal Standard.
Another, named Talero, disputed the question of who should be the standard-bearer. The King himself had to settle these quarrels by his own arbitrary authority. Talero was disembarked and the Royal Standard was formally presented to Maghallanes by injunction of the King in the Church of Santa Maria de la Victoria de la Triana, in Seville, where he and his companions swore to observe the usages and customs of Castile, and to remain faithful and loyal to His Catholic Majesty.
On August 10, 1519, the expedition left the port of San Lúcar de Barrameda in the direction of the Canary Islands.
On December 13 they arrived safely at Rio Janeiro.
Following the coast in search of the longed-for passage to the Pacific Ocean, they entered the Solis River—so called because its discoverer, João de Solis, a Portuguese, was murdered there. Its name was afterwards changed to that of Rio de la Plata (the Silver River).
Continuing their course, the intense cold determined Maghallanes to winter in the next large river, known then as San Julian.
Tumults arose; some wished to return home; others harboured a desire to separate from the fleet, but Maghallanes had sufficient tact to persuade the crews to remain with him, reminding them of the shame which would befall them if they returned only to relate their failure. He added that, so far as he was concerned, nothing but death would deter him from executing the royal commission.
As to the rebellious captains, Juan de Cartagena was already put in irons and sentenced to be cast ashore with provisions, and a disaffected French priest for a companion. The sentence was carried out later on. Then Maghallanes sent a boat to each of three of the ships to inquire of the captains whom they served. The reply from all was that they were for the King and themselves. Thereupon 30 men were sent to the Victoria with a letter to Mendoza, and whilst he was reading it, they rushed on board and stabbed him to death. Quesada then brought his ship alongside of the Trinidad, and, with sword and shield in hand, called in vain upon his men to attack. Maghallanes, with great promptitude, gave orders to board Quesadaʼs vessel. The next day Quesada was executed. After these vigorous but justifiable measures, obedience was ensured.
Still bearing southwards within sight of the coast, on October 28, 1520, the expedition reached and entered the seaway thenceforth known as the Magellan Straits, dividing the Island of Tierra del Fuego from the mainland of Patagonia.[2]
On the way one ship had become a total wreck, and now the San Antonio deserted the expedition; her captain having been wounded and made prisoner by his mutinous officers, she was sailed in the direction of New Guinea. The three remaining vessels waited for the San Antonio several days, and then passed through the Straits. Great was the rejoicing of all when, on November 26, 1520, they found themselves on the Pacific Ocean! It was a memorable day. All doubt was now at an end as they cheerfully navigated across that broad expanse of sea.
On March 16, 1521, the Ladrone Islands were reached. There the ships were so crowded with natives that they were obliged to be expelled by force. They stole one of the shipʼs boats, and ninety men were sent on shore to recover it. After a bloody combat the boat was regained, and the fleet continued its course westward until it hove to off an islet, then called Jomonjol, now known as Malhou, situated in the channel between Sámar and Dinagat Islands (vide map). Then coasting along the north of the Island of Mindanao, they arrived at the mouth of the Butuan River, where they were supplied with provisions by the chief. It was Easter week, and on this shore the first Mass was celebrated in the Philippines. The natives showed great friendliness, in return for which Maghallanes took formal possession of their territory in the name of Charles I. The chieftain himself volunteered to pilot the ships to a fertile island, the kingdom of a relation of his, and, passing between the Islands of Bojol and Leyte, the expedition arrived on April 7 at Cebú, where, on receiving the news, over two thousand men appeared on the beach in battle array with lances and shields.
The Butuan chief went on shore and explained that the expedition brought people of peace who sought provisions. The King agreed to a treaty, and proposed that it should be ratified according to the native formula—drawing blood from the breast of each party, the one drinking that of the other. This form of bond was called by the Spaniards the Pacto de sangre, or the Blood compact (q.v.).
Maghallanes accepted the conditions, and a hut was built on shore in which to say Mass. Then he disembarked with his followers, and the King, Queen, and Prince came to satisfy their natural curiosity. They appeared to take great interest in the Christian religious rites and received baptism, although it would be venturesome to suppose they understood their meaning, as subsequent events proved. The princes and headmen of the district followed their example, and swore fealty and obedience to the King of Spain.
Maghallanes espoused the cause of his new allies, who were at war with the tribes on the opposite coast, and on April 25, 1521, he passed over to Magtan Island. In the affray he was mortally wounded by an arrow, and thus ended his brief but lustrous career, which fills one of the most brilliant pages in Spanish annals.
Maghallanes called the group of islands, so far discovered, the Saint Lazarus Archipelago. In Spain they were usually referred to as the Islas del Poniente, and in Portugal as the Islas del Oriente.
On the left bank of the Pasig River, facing the City of Manila, stands a monument to Maghallanesʼ memory. Another has been erected on the spot in Magtan Island, where he is supposed to have been slain on April 27, 1521. Also in the city of Cebú, near the beach, there is an obelisk to commemorate these heroic events.
It was perhaps well for Maghallanes to have ended his days out of reach of his royal master. Had he returned to Spain he would probably have met a fate similar to that which befell Columbus after all his glories. The San Antonio, which, as already mentioned, deserted the fleet at the Magellan Straits, continued her voyage from New Guinea to Spain, arriving at San Lúcar de Barrameda in March, 1521. The captain, Alvaro Mesquita, was landed as a prisoner, accused of having seconded Maghallanes in repressing insubordination. To Maghallanes were ascribed the worst cruelties and infraction of the royal instructions. Accused and accusers were alike cast into prison, and the King, unable to lay hands on the deceased Maghallanes, sought this heroʼs wife and children. These innocent victims of royal vengeance were at once arrested and conveyed to Búrgos, where the Court happened to be, whilst the San Antonio was placed under embargo.
On the decease of Maghallanes, the supreme command of the expedition in Cebú Island was assumed by Duarte de Barbosa, who, with twenty-six of his followers, was slain at a banquet to which they had been invited by Hamabar, the King of the island. Juan Serrano had so ingratiated himself with the natives during the sojourn on shore that his life was spared for a while. Stripped of his raiment and armour, he was conducted to the beach, where the natives demanded a ransom for his person of two cannons from the shipsʼ artillery. Those on board saw what was passing and understood the request, but they were loath to endanger the lives of all for the sake of one—”Melius est ut pereat unus quam ut pereat communitas” (Saint Augustine)—so they raised anchors and sailed out of the port, leaving Serrano to meet his terrible fate.
Due to sickness, murder during the revolts, and the slaughter in Cebú, the exploring party, now reduced to 100 souls all told, was deemed insufficient to conveniently manage three vessels. It was resolved therefore to burn the most dilapidated one—the Concepcion. At a general council, Juan Caraballo was chosen Commander-in-Chief of the expedition, with Gonzalo Gomez de Espinosa as Captain of the Victoria. The royal instructions were read, and it was decided to go to the Island of Borneo, already known to the Portuguese and marked on their charts. On the way they provisioned the ships off the coast of Palaúan Island (Parágua), and thence navigated to within ten miles of the capital of Borneo (probably Brunei). Here they fell in with a number of native canoes, in one of which was the Kingʼs secretary. There was a great noise with the sound of drums and trumpets, and the ships saluted the strangers with their guns.
The natives came on board, embraced the Spaniards as if they were old friends, and asked them who they were and what they came for. They replied that they were vassals of the King of Spain and wished to barter goods. Presents were exchanged, and several of the Spaniards went ashore. They were met on the way by over two thousand armed men, and safely escorted to the Kingʼs quarters. After satisfying his Majestyʼs numerous inquiries, Captain Espinosa was permitted to return with his companions. He reported to Caraballo all he had seen, and in a council it was agreed that the town was too large and the armed men too numerous to warrant the safety of a longer stay. However, being in need of certain commodities, five men were despatched to the town. As days passed by, their prolonged absence caused suspicion and anxiety, so the Spaniards took in reprisal the son of the King of Luzon Island, who had arrived there to trade, accompanied by 100 men and five women in a large prahu. The prince made a solemn vow to see that the five Spaniards returned, and left two of his women and eight chiefs as hostages. Then Caraballo sent a message to the King of Borneo, intimating that if his people were not liberated he would seize all the junks and merchandise he might fall in with and kill their crews. Thereupon two of the retained Spaniards were set free, but, in spite of the seizure of craft laden with silk and cotton, the three men remaining had to be abandoned, and the expedition set sail.
For reasons not very clear, Caraballo was deprived of the supreme command and Espinosa was appointed in his place, whilst Juan Sebastian Elcano was elected Captain of the Victoria. With a native pilot, captured from a junk which they met on the way, the ships shaped their course towards the Moluccas Islands, and on November 8, 1521, they arrived at the Island of Tidor. Thus the essential object of the expedition was gained—the discovery of a western route to the Spice Islands.
Years previous the Portuguese had opened up trade and still continued to traffic with these islands, which were rich in nutmegs, cloves, cinnamon, ginger, sage, pepper, etc. It is said that Saint Francis Xavier had propagated his views amongst these islanders, some of whom professed the Christian faith.
The King, richly attired, went out with his suite to receive and welcome the Spaniards. He was anxious to barter with them, and when the Trinidad was consequently laden with valuable spices it was discovered that she had sprung a leak. Her cargo was therefore transferred to the sister ship, whilst the Trinidad remained in Tidor for repairs, and Elcano was deputed to make the voyage home with the Victoria, taking the western route of the Portuguese in violation of the Treaty of Tordesillas. Elcanoʼs crew consisted of fifty-three Europeans and a dozen natives of Tidor. The Victoria started for Spain at the beginning of the year 1522; passed through the Sunda Straits at great risk of being seized by the Portuguese; experienced violent storms in the Mozambique Channel, and was almost wrecked rounding the Cape of Good Hope. A few of the crew died—their only food was a scanty ration of rice—and in their extreme distress they put in at Santiago Island, 350 miles W. of Cape Verd, to procure provisions and beg assistance from the Portuguese Governor. It was like jumping into the lionʼs mouth. The Governor imprisoned those who went to him, in defence of his Sovereignʼs treaty rights; he seized the boat which brought them ashore; inquired of them where they had obtained the cargo; and projected the capture of the Victoria.
Captain Elcano was not slow to comprehend the situation; he raised anchor and cleared out of the harbour, and, as it had happened several times before, those who had the misfortune to be sent ashore were abandoned by their countrymen.
The Victoria made the port of San Lúcar de Barrameda on September 6, 1522, so that in a little over three years Juan Sebastian Elcano had performed the most notable voyage hitherto on record—it was the first yet accomplished round the world. It must, however, be borne in mind that the discovery of the way to the Moluccas, going westward, was due to Maghallanes—of Portuguese birth—and that the route thence to Europe, continuing westward, had long before been determined by the Portuguese traders, whose charts Elcano used.
When Elcano and his 17 companions disembarked, their appearance was most pitiable—mere skeletons of men, weather-beaten and famished. The City of Seville received them with acclamation; but their first act was to walk barefooted, in procession, holding lighted candles in their hands, to the church to give thanks to the Almighty for their safe deliverance from the hundred dangers which they had encountered. Clothes, money, and all necessaries were supplied to them by royal bounty, whilst Elcano and the most intelligent of his companions were cited to appear at Court to narrate their adventures. His Majesty received them with marked deference. Elcano was rewarded with a life pension of 500 ducats (worth at that date about £112 10s.), and as a lasting remembrance of his unprecedented feat, his royal master knighted him and conceded to him the right of using on his escutcheon a globe bearing the motto, “Primus circundedit me.”
Two of Elcanoʼs officers, Miguel de Rodas and Francisco Alva, were each awarded a life pension of 50,000 maravedis (worth at that time about 14 guineas), whilst the King ordered one-fourth of that fifth part of the cargo, which by contract with Maghallanes belonged to the State Treasury, to be distributed amongst the crew, including those imprisoned in Santiago Island.
The cargo of the Victoria consisted of twenty-six and a half tons of cloves, a quantity of cinnamon, sandal wood, nutmegs, etc. Amongst the Tidor Islanders who were presented to the King, one of them was not allowed to return to his native home, because he had carefully inquired the value of the spices in the Spanish bazaars.
Meanwhile the Trinidad was repaired in Tidor and on her way to Panamá, when continued tempests and the horrible sufferings of the crew determined them to retrace their course to the Moluccas. In this interval Portuguese ships had arrived there, and a fort was being constructed to defend Portuguese interests against the Spaniards, whom they regarded as interlopers. The Trinidad was seized, and the Captain Espinosa with the survivors of his crew were granted a passage to Lisbon, which place they reached five years after they had set out with Maghallanes.
The enthusiasm of King Charles was equal to the importance of the discoveries which gave renown to his subjects and added glory to his Crown. Notwithstanding a protracted controversy with the Portuguese Court, which claimed the exclusive right of trading with the Spice Islands, he ordered another squadron of six ships to be fitted out for a voyage to the Moluccas. The supreme command was confided to Garcia Yofre de Loaisa, Knight of Saint John, whilst Sebastian Elcano was appointed captain of one of the vessels. After passing through the Magellan Straits, the Commander Loaisa succumbed to the fatigues and privations of the stormy voyage. Elcano succeeded him, but only for four days, when he too expired. The expedition, however, arrived safely at the Moluccas Islands, where they found the Portuguese in full possession and strongly established, but the long series of combats, struggles and altercations which ensued between the rival Powers, in which Captain Andrés de Urdaneta prominently figured, left no decisive advantage to either nation.
But the King was in no way disheartened. A third expedition—the last under his auspices—was organized and despatched from the Pacific Coast of Mexico by the Viceroy, by royal mandate. It was composed of two ships, two transports and one galley, well manned and armed, chosen from the fleet of Pedro Alvarado, the late Governor of Guatemala. Under the leadership of Ruy Lopez de Villalobos it sailed on November 1, 1542; discovered many small islands in the Pacific; lost the galley on the way, and anchored off an island about 20 miles in circumference which was named Antonia. They found its inhabitants very hostile. A fight ensued, but the natives finally fled, leaving several Spaniards wounded, of whom six died. Villalobos then announced his intention of remaining here some time, and ordered his men to plant maize. At first they demurred, saying that they had come to fight, not to till land, but at length necessity urged them to obedience, and a small but insufficient crop was reaped in due season. Hard pressed for food, they lived principally on cats, rats, lizards, snakes, dogs, roots and wild fruit, and several died of disease. In this plight a ship was sent to Mindanao Island, commanded by Bernado de la Torre, to seek provisions. The voyage was fruitless. The party was opposed by the inhabitants, who fortified themselves, but were dislodged and slain. Then a vessel was commissioned to Mexico with news and to solicit reinforcements. On the way, Volcano Island (of the Ladrone Islands group) was discovered on August 6, 1543. A most important event followed. The island, now known as Sámar, was called the Isla Philipina, and a galiot was built and despatched to the group (it is doubtful which), named by this expedition the Philippine Islands in honour of Philip, Prince of Asturias, the son of King Charles I., heir apparent to the throne of Castile, to which he ascended in 1555 under the title of Philip II. on the abdication of his father.
The craft returned from the Philippine Islands laden with abundance of provisions, with which the ships were enabled to continue the voyage.
By the royal instructions, Ruy Lopez de Villalobos was strictly enjoined not to touch at the Moluccas Islands, peace having been concluded with Portugal. Heavy gales forced him nevertheless to take refuge at Gilolo. The Portuguese, suspicious of his intentions in view of the treaty, arrayed their forces against his, inciting the King of the island also to discard all Spanish overtures and refuse assistance to Villalobos. The discord and contentions between the Portuguese and Spaniards were increasing; nothing was being gained by either party. Villalobos personally was sorely disheartened in the struggle, fearing all the while that his opposition to the Portuguese in contravention of the royal instructions would only excite the Kingʼs displeasure and lead to his own downfall. Hence he decided to capitulate with his rival and accepted a safe conduct for himself and party to Europe in Portuguese ships. They arrived at Amboina Island, where Villalobos, already crushed by grief, succumbed to disease. The survivors of the expedition, amongst whom were several priests, continued the journey home via Cochin China, Malacca and Goa, where they embarked for Lisbon, arriving there in 1549.
In 1558 King Charles was no more, but the memory of his ambition outlived him. His son Philip, equally emulous and unscrupulous, was too narrow-minded and subtly cautious to initiate an expensive enterprise encompassed by so many hazards—as materially unproductive as it was devoid of immediate political importance. Indeed the basis of the first expedition was merely to discover a Western route to the rich Spice Islands, already known to exist; the second went there to attempt to establish Spanish empire; and the third to search for, and annex to, the Spanish Crown, lands as wealthy as those claimed by, and now yielded to, the Portuguese.
But the value of the Philippine Islands, of which the possession was but recent and nominal, was thus far a matter of doubt.
One of the most brave and intrepid captains of the Loaisa expedition—Andrés de Urdaneta—returned to Spain in 1536. In former years he had fought under King Charles I., in his wars in Italy, when the study of navigation served him as a favourite pastime. Since his return from the Moluccas his constant attention was given to the project of a new expedition to the Far West, for which he unremittingly solicited the royal sanction and assistance. But the King had grown old and weary of the world, and whilst he did not openly discourage Urdanetaʼs pretensions he gave him no effective aid. At length, in 1553, two years before Charles abdicated, Urdaneta, convinced of the futility of his importunity at the Spanish Court, and equally unsuccessful with his scheme in other quarters, retired to Mexico, where he took the habit of an Augustine monk. Ten years afterwards King Philip, inspired by the religious sentiment which pervaded his whole policy, urged his Viceroy in Mexico to fit out an expedition to conquer and christianize the Philippine Islands. Urdaneta, now a priest, was not overlooked. Accompanied by five priests of his Order, he was entrusted with the spiritual care of the races to be subdued by an expedition composed of four ships and one frigate well armed, carrying 400 soldiers and sailors, commanded by a Basque navigator, Miguel Lopez de Legaspi. This remarkable man was destined to acquire the fame of having established Spanish dominion in these Islands. He was of noble birth and a native of the Province of Guipúzcoa in Spain. Having settled in the City of Mexico, of which place he was elected Mayor, he there practised as a notary. Of undoubted piety, he enjoyed reputation for his justice and loyalty; hence he was appointed General of the forces equipped for the voyage.
The favourite desire to possess the valuable Spice Islands still lurked in the minds of many Spaniards. Amongst them was Urdaneta, who laboured in vain to persuade the Viceroy of the superior advantages to be gained by annexing New Guinea instead of the Philippines, whence the conquest of the Moluccas would be but a facile task. However, the Viceroy was inexorable and resolved to fulfil the royal instructions to the letter, so the expedition set sail from the Mexican port of Navidad for the Philippine Islands on November 21, 1564.
The Ladrone Islands were passed on January 9, 1565, and on the 13th of the following month the Philippines were sighted. A call for provisions was made at several small islands, including Camiguín, whence the expedition sailed to Bojol Island. A boat despatched to the port of Butuan returned in a fortnight with the news that there was much gold, wax, and cinnamon in that district. A small vessel was also sent to Cebú, and on its return reported that the natives showed hostility, having decapitated one of the crew whilst he was bathing.
Nevertheless, General Legaspi resolved to put in at Cebú, which was a safe harbour; and on the way there the ships anchored off Limasana Island (to the south of Leyte). Thence, running south-west, the port of Dapítan (Mindanao Is.) was reached.
Prince Pagbuaya, who ruled there, was astonished at the sight of such formidable ships, and commissioned one of his subjects, specially chosen for his boldness, to take note of their movements, and report to him. His account was uncommonly interesting. He related that enormous men with long, pointed noses, dressed in fine robes, ate stones (hard biscuits), drank fire, and blew smoke out of their mouths and through their nostrils. Their power was such that they commanded thunder and lightning (discharge of artillery), and that at meal times they sat down at a clothed table. From their lofty port, their bearded faces, and rich attire, they might have been the very gods manifesting themselves to the natives; so the Prince thought it wise to accept the friendly overtures of such marvellous strangers. Besides obtaining ample provisions in barter for European wares, Legaspi procured from this chieftain much useful information respecting the condition of Cebú. He learnt that it was esteemed a powerful kingdom, of which the magnificence was much vaunted amongst the neighbouring states; that the roadstead was one of great safety, and the most favourably situated amongst the islands of the painted faces.[3]
The General resolved, therefore, to filch it from its native king and annex it to the Crown of Castile.
He landed in Cebú on April 27, 1565, and negotiations were entered into with the natives of that island. Remembering, by tradition, the pretensions of the Maghallanesʼ party, they naturally opposed this renewed menace to their independence. The Spaniards occupied the town by force and sacked it, but for months were so harassed by the surrounding tribes that a council was convened to discuss the prudence of continuing the occupation. The General decided to remain; little by little the natives yielded to the new condition of things, and thus the first step towards the final conquest was achieved. The natives were declared Spanish subjects, and hopeful with the success thus far attained, Legaspi determined to send despatches to the King by the priest Andrés de Urdaneta, who safely arrived at Navidad on October 3, 1565, and proceeded thence to Spain. In a letter written by Legaspi in 1567 he alluded, for the first time, to the whole archipelago as the Islas Filipinas.
The pacification of Cebú and the adjacent islands was steadily and successfully pursued by Legaspi; the confidence of the natives was assured, and their dethroned King Tupas accepted Christian baptism, whilst his daughter married a Spaniard.
In the midst of the invadersʼ felicity the Portuguese arrived to dispute the possession, but they were compelled to retire. A fortress was constructed and plots of land were marked out for the building of the Spanish settlersʼ residences; and finally, in 1570, Cebú was declared a city, after Legaspi had received from his royal master the title of Gov.-General of all the lands which he might be able to conquer.
In May, 1570, Captain Juan Salcedo, Legaspiʼs grandson, was despatched to the Island of Luzon to reconnoitre the territory and bring it under Spanish dominion.
The history of these early times is very confused, and there are many contradictions in the authors of the Philippine chronicles, none of which seem to have been written contemporaneously with the first events. It appears, however, that Martin de Goiti and a few soldiers accompanied Salcedo to the north. They were well received by the native chiefs or petty kings Lacandola, Rajah of Tondo (known as Rajah Matandá, which means in native dialect the aged Rajah), and his nephew the young Rajah Soliman of Manila.
The sight of a body of European troops armed as was the custom in the 16th century, must have profoundly impressed and overawed these chieftains, otherwise it seems almost incredible that they should have consented, without protest, or attempt at resistance, to (for ever) give up their territory, yield their independence, pay tribute,[4] and become the tools of invading foreigners for the conquest of their own race without recompense whatsoever.
A treaty of peace was signed and ratified by an exchange of drops of blood between the parties thereto. Soliman, however, soon repented of his poltroonery, and roused the war-cry among some of his tribes. To save his capital (then called Maynila) falling into the hands of the invaders he set fire to it. Lacandola remained passively watching the issue. Soliman was completely routed by Salcedo, and pardoned on his again swearing fealty to the King of Spain. Goiti remained in the vicinity of Manila with his troops, whilst Salcedo fought his way to the Bombon Lake (Taal) district. The present Batangas Province was subdued by him and included in the jurisdiction of Mindoro Island. During the campaign Salcedo was severely wounded by an arrow and returned to Manila.
Legaspi was in the Island of Fanay when Salcedo (some writers say Goiti) arrived to advise him of what had occurred in Luzon. They at once proceeded together to Cavite, where Lacandola visited Legaspi on board, and, prostrating himself, averred his submission. Then Legaspi continued his journey to Manila, and was received there with acclamation. He took formal possession of the surrounding territory, declared Manila to be the capital of the Archipelago, and proclaimed the sovereignty of the King of Spain over the whole group of islands. Gaspar de San Agustin, writing of this period, says: “He (Legaspi) ordered them (the natives) to finish the building of the fort in construction at the mouth of the river (Pasig) so that His Majestyʼs artillery might be mounted therein for the defence of the fort and the town. Also he ordered them to build a large house inside the battlement walls for Legaspiʼs own residence—another large house and church for the priests, etc. ... Besides these two large houses, he told them to erect a hundred and fifty dwellings of moderate size for the remainder of the Spaniards to live in. All this they promptly promised to do, but they did not obey, for the Spaniards were themselves obliged to terminate the work of the fortifications.”
The City Council of Manila was constituted on June 24, 1571. On August 20, 1572, Miguel Lopez de Legaspi succumbed to the fatigues of his arduous life, leaving behind him a name which will always hold a prominent place in Spanish colonial history. He was buried in Manila in the Augustine Chapel of San Fausto, where hung the Royal Standard and the heroʼs armorial bearings until the British troops occupied the city in 1763. A street in Manila and others in provincial towns bear his name. Near the Luneta Esplanade, Manila, there is a very beautiful Legaspi (and Urdaneta) monument, erected shortly after the Rebellion of 1896.
“Death makes no conquest of this conqueror,
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.”
Richard III., Act 3, Sc. 1.
In the meantime Salcedo continued his task of subjecting the tribes in the interior. The natives of Taytay and Cainta, in the Spanish military district of Mórong, (now Rizal Province) submitted to him on August 15, 1571. He returned to the Laguna de Bay to pacify the villagers, and penetrated as far as Camarines Norte to explore the Bicol River. Bolinao and the provinces of Pangasinán and Ilocos yielded to his prowess, and in this last province he had well established himself when the defence of the capital obliged him to return to Manila.
At the same time Martin de Goiti was actively employed in overrunning the Pampanga territory with the double object of procuring supplies for the Manila camp and coercing the inhabitants on his way to acknowledge their new liege lord. It is recorded that in this expedition Goiti was joined by the Rajahs of Tondo and Manila. Yet Lacandola appears to have been regarded more as a servant of the Spaniards nolens volens than as a free ally, for, because he absented himself from Goitiʼs camp “without licence from the Maestre de Campo,” he was suspected by some writers of having favoured opposition to the Spaniardsʼ incursions in the Marshes of Hagonoy (Pampanga coast, N. boundary of Manila Bay).
The district which constituted the ancient province of Taal y Balayan, subsequently denominated Province of Batangas, was formerly governed by a number of caciques, the most notable of whom were Gatpagil and Gatjinlintan. They were usually at war with their neighbours. Gatjinlintan, the cacique of the Batangas River (Pansipít?) at the time of the conquest, was famous for his valour. Gatsun͠gayan, who ruled on the other side of the river, was celebrated as a hunter of deer and wild boar. These men were half-castes of Borneo and Aeta extraction, who formed a distinct race called by the natives Daghagang. None of them would submit to the King of Spain or become Christians, hence their descendants were offered no privileges.
The Aetas collected tribute. Gabriel Montoya, a Spanish soldier of Legaspiʼs legion, partially conquered those races, and supported the mission of an Austin friar amongst them. This was probably Fray Diego Móxica, who undertook the mission of Batangas on its separation from the local administration of Mindoro Island in 1581. The first Governor of San Pablo or Sampaloc in the name of the King of Spain was appointed by the soldier Montoya, and was called Bartolomé Maghayin; the second was Cristóbal Soman͠galit and the third was Bernabé Pindan, all of whom had adopted Christianity. Bay, on the borders of the lake of that name, and four leagues from San Pablo, was originally ruled by the cacique Agustin Maglansan͠gan. Calilayan, now called Tayabas, was founded by the woman Ladía, and subsequently administered by a native Alcalde, who gave such satisfaction that he was three times appointed the Kingʼs lieutenant and baptized as Francisco de San Juan.
San Pablo, the centre of a once independent district, is situated at the foot of the mountains of San Cristóbal and Banájao, from which over fourteen streams of fresh water flow through the villages.
The system established by Juan Salcedo was to let the conquered lands be governed by the native caciques and their male successors so long as they did so in the name of the King of Castile. Territorial possession seems to have been the chief aim of the earliest European invaders, and records of having improved the condition of the people or of having opened up means of communication and traffic as they went on conquering, or even of having explored the natural resources of the colony for their own benefit, are extremely rare.
[1] During the previous century jealousy had run so high between Spain and Portugal with regard to their respective colonization and trading rights, that the question of demarcation had to be settled by the Pope Alexander VI., who issued a bull dated May 4, 1493, dividing the world into two hemispheres, and decreeing that all heathen lands discovered in the Western half, from the meridian 100 leagues W. of Cape Verd Island, should belong to the Spaniards; in the Eastern half to the Portuguese. The bull was adopted by both nations in the Treaty of Tordesillas (June 7, 1494). It gave rise to many passionate debates, as the Spaniards wrongly insisted that the Philippines and the Moluccas came within the division allotted to them by Pontifical donation.
[2] Probably so called from the enormous number of patos (ducks) found there.
[3] The Visayos, inhabiting the central group of the Archipelago, tattooed themselves; a cutaneous disease also disfigured the majority; hence for many years their islands were called by the Spaniards Islas de los pintados.
[4] Legaspi and Guido Lavezares, under oath, made promises of rewards to the Lacandola family and a remission of tribute in perpetuity, but they were not fulfilled. In the following century—year 1660—it appears that the descendants of the Rajah Lacandola still upheld the Spanish authority, and having become sorely impoverished thereby, the heir of the family petitioned the Governor (Sabiniano Manrique de Lara) to make good the honour of his first predecessors. Eventually the Lacandolas were exempted from the payment of tribute and poll-tax for ever, as recompense for the filching of their domains.
In 1884, when the fiscal reforms were introduced which abolished the tribute and established in lieu thereof a document of personal identity (cedula personal), for which a tax was levied, the last vestige of privilege disappeared.
Descendants of Lacandola are still to be met with in several villages near Manila. They do not seem to have materially profited by their transcendent ancestry—one of them I found serving as a waiter in a French restaurant in the capital in 1885.
Philippine Dependencies, Up To 1898
The Ladrones, Carolines and Pelew Islands
In 1521 Maghallanes cast anchor off the Ladrone Islands (situated between 17° and 20° N. lat. by 146° E. long.) on his way to the discovery of those Islands afterwards denominated the Philippines. This group was named by him Islas de las Velas.[1] Legaspi called them the Ladrones.[2] Subsequently several navigators sighted or touched at these Islands, and the indistinct demarcation which comprised them acquired the name of Saint Lazarusʼ Archipelago.
In 1662 the Spanish vessel San Damian, on her course from Mexico to Luzon, anchored here. On board was a missionary, Fray Diego Luis de San Victores, who was so impressed with the dejected condition of the natives, that on reaching Manila he made it his common theme of conversation. In fact, so importunately did he pursue the subject with his superiors that he had to be constrained to silence. In the following year the Governor, Diego Salcedo, replied to his urgent appeal for a mission there in terms which permitted no further solicitation in that quarter. But the friar was persistent in his project, and petitioned the Archbishopʼs aid. The prelate submitted the matter to King Philip IV., and the friar himself wrote to his father, who presented a memorial to His Majesty and another to the Queen beseeching her influence. Consequently in 1666 a Royal Decree was received in Manila sanctioning a mission to the Ladrones.
Fray Diego took his passage in the galleon San Diego, and having arrived safely in the Viceregal Court of Mexico, he pressed his views on the Viceroy, who declared that he had no orders. Then the priest appealed to the Viceroyʼs wife, who, it is said, was entreating her husbandʼs help on bended knee, when an earthquake occurred which considerably damaged the city. It was a manifestation from heaven, the wily priest avowed, and the Viceroy, yielding to the superstition of the age, complied with the friarʼs request.
Therefore, in March, 1668, Fray Diego started from Acapulco in charge of a Jesuit mission for the Ladrones, where they subsequently received a pension of ₱3,000 per annum from Queen Maria Ana, who, meanwhile, had become a widow and Regent. To commemorate this royal munificence, these Islands have since been called by the Spaniards “Islas Marianas,” although the older name—Ladrones—is better known to the world.
When the mission was fairly established, troops were sent there, consisting of twelve Spaniards and nineteen Philippine natives, with two pieces of artillery.
The acquiescence of the Ladrone natives was being steadily gained by the old policy of conquest, under the veil of Christianity, when they suddenly rebelled against the strangerʼs religion, which brought with it restraint of liberty and a social dominion practically amounting to slavery. Fortunately, Nature came again to the aid of Fray Diego, for, whilst the natives were in open revolt, a severe storm levelled their huts to the ground, and the priest having convinced them that it was a visitation from heaven, peace was concluded.
Fray Diego left the mission for Visayas, where he was killed. After his departure the natives again revolted against servile subjection, and many priests were slain from time to time—some in the exercise of their sacerdotal functions, others in open warfare.
In 1778 a Governor was sent there from Mexico with thirty soldiers, but he resigned his charge after two yearsʼ service, and others succeeded him.
The Islands are very poor. The products are Rice, Sago, Cocoanuts, and Cane-sugar to a small extent; there are also pigs and fowls in abundance. The Spaniards taught the natives the use of fire. They were a warlike people; every man had to carry arms. Their language is Chamorro, much resembling the Visayan dialect. The population, for a hundred years after the Spanish occupation, diminished. Women purposely sterilised themselves. Some threw their new born offspring into the sea, hoping to liberate them from a world of woe, and that they would regenerate in happiness. In the beginning of the 17th century the population was further diminished by an epidemic disease. During the first century of Spanish rule, the Government were never able to exact the payment of tribute. Up to the Spanish evacuation the revenue of these Islands was not nearly sufficient to cover the entire cost of administration. About twenty years ago Governor Pazos was assassinated there by a rebellious group.
There were nine towns with parish priests. All the churches were built of stone, and roofed with reed thatching, except that of the capital, which had an iron roof. Six of the towns had Town Halls made of bamboo and reed grass; one had a wooden building, and in two of them (including the capital) the Town Halls were of stone.
The Seat of Government was at Agaña (called in old official documents the “City of San Ignacio de Agaña”). It is situated in the Island of Guam, in the creek called the Port of Apra. Ships have to anchor about two miles off Punta Piti, where passengers, stores, and mails are conveyed to a wooden landing-stage. Five hundred yards from here was the Harbour-masterʼs office, built of stone, with a tile roof. From Punta Piti there was a bad road of about five miles. The situation of Agaña seems to be ill-suited for communication with vessels, and proposals were ineffectually made by two Governors, since 1835, to establish the capital town elsewhere. The central Government took no heed of their recommendations. In Agaña there was a Government House, a Military Hospital and Pharmacy, an Artillery Dépôt and Infantry Barracks, a well-built Prison, a Town Hall, the Administratorʼs Office (called by the natives “the shop”), and the ruins of former public buildings. It is a rather pretty town, but there is nothing notable to be seen.
The natives are as domesticated as the Philippine Islanders, and have much better features. Spanish and a little English are spoken by many of them, as these Islands in former years were the resort of English-speaking whalemen. For the Elementary Education of the natives, there was the College of San Juan de Letran for boys, and a girlsʼ school in Agaña; and in 7 of the towns there was, in 1888, a total of 4 schools for boys, 5 schools for girls, and 9 schools for both sexes, under the direction of 20 masters and 6 mistresses.
When the Ladrone Islands (Marianas) were a dependency of the Spanish-Philippine General-Government, a subsidized mail steamer left Manila for Agaña, and two or three other ports, every three months.
An island was discovered by one of the Spanish galleon pilots in 1686, and called Carolina, in honour of Charles II. of Spain, but its bearings could not be found again for years.
In 1696 two canoes, with 29 Pelew Islanders, drifted to the coast of Sámar Island, and landed at the Town of Guivan. They were 60 days on the drift, and five of them died of privations. They were terror-stricken when they saw a man on shore making signs to them. When he went out to them in a boat, and boarded one of the canoes, they all jumped out and got into the other; then when the man got into that, they were in utter despair, considering themselves prisoners.
They were conducted to the Spanish priest of Guivan, whom they supposed would be the King of the Island, and on whom would depend their lives and liberty. They prostrated themselves, and implored his mercy and the favour of sparing their lives, whilst the priest did all he could, by signs, to reassure them.
It happened that there had been living here, for some years, two other strange men brought to this shore by currents and contrary winds. These came forward to see the novelty, and served as interpreters, so that the newcomers were all lodged in native houses in twos and threes, and received the best hospitality.
They related that their Islands numbered 32, and only produced fowls and sea-birds. One man made a map, by placing stones in the relative position of the Islands. When asked about the number of the inhabitants, one took a handful of sand to demonstrate that they were countless. There was a King, they explained, who held his court in the Island of Lamurrec, to whom the chiefs were subject. They much respected and obeyed him. Among the castaways was a chief, with his wife—the daughter of the King.
The men had a leaf-fibre garment around their loins, and to it was attached a piece of stuff in front, which was thrown over the shoulders and hung loose at the back. The women were dressed the same as the men, except that their loin vestment reached to their knees. The Kingʼs daughter wore, moreover, tortoise-shell ornaments.
They were afraid when they saw a cow and a dog, their Island having no quadrupeds. Their sole occupation consisted in providing food for their families. Their mark of courtesy was to take the hand of the person whom they saluted and pass it softly over the face.
The priest gave them pieces of iron, which they prized as if they had been of gold, and slept with them under their heads. Their only arms were lances, with human bones for points. They seemed to be a pacific people, intelligent and well-proportioned physically. Both sexes wore long hair down to their shoulders.
Very content to find so much luxury in Sámar, they offered to return and bring their people to trade. The Jesuits considered this a capital pretext for subjecting their Islands, and the Government approved of it. At the instance of the Pope, the King ordered the Gov.-General, Domingo Zabálburu, to send out expeditions in quest of these Islands; and, between 1708 and 1710, several unsuccessful efforts were made to come across them. In 1710, two islands were discovered, and named San Andrés. Several canoes arrived alongside of the ship, and the occupants accepted the Commanderʼs invitation to come on board. They were much astonished to see the Spaniards smoke, and admired the iron fastenings of the vessel. When they got near shore, they all began to dance, clapping their hands to beat time. They measured the ship, and wondered where such a large piece of wood could have come from. They counted the crew, and presented them with cocoanuts, fish, and herbs from their canoes. The vessel anchored near to the shore, but there was a strong current and a fresh wind blowing, so that it was imprudent to disembark. However, two priests insisted upon erecting a cross on the shore, and were accompanied by the quarter-master and an officer of the troops. The weather compelled the master to weigh anchor, and the vessel set sail, leaving on land the four Europeans, who were ultimately murdered. For a quarter of a century these Islands were lost again to the Spaniards.
In 1721 two Caroline prahus were wafted to the Ladrone Islands, where D. Luiz Sanchez was Governor. The Caroline Islanders had no idea where they had landed, and were quite surprised when they beheld the priest. He forcibly detained these unfortunate people, and handed them over to the Governor, whom they entreated, with tears—but all in vain—to be allowed to return to their homes. There they remained prisoners, until it suited the Governorʼs convenience to send a vessel with a priest to their Island. The priest went there, and thence to Manila, where a fresh expedition was fitted out. It was headed by a missionary, and included a number of soldiers whom the natives massacred soon after their arrival. All further attempt to subdue the Caroline Islands was necessarily postponed.
The natives, at that time, had no religion at all, or were, in a vague sense, polytheists. Their wise men communicated with the souls of the defunct. They were polygamists, but had a horror of adultery. Divorce was at once granted by the chiefs on proof of infidelity. They were cannibals. In each island there was a chief, regarded as a semi-spiritual being, to whom the natives were profoundly obedient. Huts were found used as astrological schools, where also the winds and currents were studied. They made cloth of plantain-fibre—hatchets with stone heads. Between sunset and sunrise they slept. When war was declared between two villages or tribes, each formed three lines of warriors, 1st, young men; 2nd, tall men; 3rd, old men; then the combatants pelted each other with stones and lances. A man hors de combat was replaced by one of the back file coming forward. When one party acknowledged themselves vanquished, it was an understood privilege of the victors to shower invectives on their retiring adversaries. They lived on fruits, roots and fish. There were no quadrupeds and no agriculture.
Many Spanish descendants were found, purely native in their habits, and it was remembered that about the year 1566, several Spaniards from an expedition went ashore on some islands, supposed to be these, and were compelled to remain there.
The Carolines (“Islas Carolinas”) and Pelews (“Islas Palaos”) comprise some 48 groups of islands and islets, making a total of about 500. Their relative position to the Ladrone Islands is—of the former, S.S.W. stretching to S.E.; of the latter, S.W. Both groups lie due E. of Mindanao Island (vide map). The principal Pelew Islands are Babel-Druap and Kosor—Yap and Ponapé (Ascencion Is.) are the most important of the Carolines. The centres of Spanish Government were respectively in Yap and Babel-Druap, with a Vice-Governor of the Eastern Carolines in Ponapé—all formerly dependent on the General-Government in Manila. The Carolines and Pelews were included in the Bishopric of Cebú, and were subject, judicially, to the Supreme Court of Manila.
These Islands were subsequently many times visited by ships of other nations, and a barter trade gradually sprang up in dried cocoanut kernels (coprah) for the extraction of oil in Europe and America. Later on, when the natives were thoroughly accustomed to the foreigners, British, American, and German traders established themselves on shore, and vessels continued to arrive with European and American manufactures in exchange for coprah, trepang, ivory-nuts, tortoise-shell, etc.
Anglo-American missionaries have settled there, and a great number of natives profess Christianity in the Protestant form. Religious books in native dialect, published in Honolulu (Sandwich Is.) by the Hawaiian Evangelical Association, are distributed by the American missionaries. I have one before me now, entitled “Kapas Fel, Puk Eu,” describing incidents from the Old Testament. A few of the natives can make themselves understood in English. Besides coprah (the chief export) the Islands produce Rice, Yams, Bread-fruit (rima), Sugar-cane, etc. Until 1886 there was no Government, except that of several petty kings or chiefs, each of whom still rules over his own tribe, although the Protestant missionaries exercised a considerable social influence.
In 1885 a Spanish naval officer, named Capriles, having been appointed Governor of the Islands, arrived at Yap, ostensibly with the object of landing to hoist the Spanish flag as a signal of possession, for it was known in official quarters that the Germans were about to claim sovereignty. However, three days were squandered (perhaps intentionally) in trivial formalities, and although two Spanish men-oʼ-war—the Manila and the San Quintin—were already anchored in the Port of Yap, the German warship Iltis entered, landed marines, and hoisted their national flag, whilst the Spaniards looked on. Then the German Commander went on board the San Quintin to tell the Commander that possession of the Islands had been taken in the name of the Emperor of Germany. Neither Capriles, the appointed Governor, nor España, the Commander of the San Quintin, made any resistance; and as we can hardly attribute their inactivity to cowardice, presumably they followed their Governmentʼs instructions. Capriles and España returned to Manila, and were both rewarded for their inaction; the former being appointed to the Government of Mindoro Island. In Manila an alarming report was circulated that the Germans contemplated an attack upon the Philippines. Earthworks were thrown up outside the city wall; cannons were mounted, and the cry of invasion resounded all over the Colony. Hundreds of families fled from the capital and environs to adjacent provinces, and the personal safety of the German residents was menaced by individual patriotic enthusiasts.
In Madrid, popular riots followed the publication of the incident. The German Embassy was assaulted, and its escutcheon was burnt in the streets by the indignant mob, although, probably, not five per cent. of the rioters had any idea where the Caroline Islands were situated, or anything about them. Spain acted so feebly, and Germany so vigorously, in this affair, that many asked—was it not due to a secret understanding between the respective Ministries, disrupted only by the weight of Spanish public opinion? Diplomatic notes were exchanged between Madrid and Berlin, and Germany, anxious to withdraw with apparent dignity from an affair over which it was probably never intended to waste powder and shot, referred the question to the Pope, who arbitrated in favour of Spain.
But for these events, it is probable that Spain would never have done anything to demonstrate possession of the Caroline Islands, and for 16 months after the question was solved by Pontific mediation, there was a Spanish Governor in Yap—Sr. Elisa—a few troops and officials, but no Government. No laws were promulgated, and everybody continued to do as heretofore.
In Ponapé (Ascencion Is.) Sr. Posadillo was appointed Governor. A few troops were stationed there under a sub-lieutenant, whilst some Capuchin friars—European ecclesiastics of the meanest type—were sent there to compete with the American Protestant missionaries in the salvation of nativesʼ souls. A collision naturally took place, and the Governor—well known to all of us in Manila as crack-brained and tactless—sent the chief Protestant missionary, Mr. E. T. Doane, a prisoner to Manila on June 16, 1887.[3] He was sent back free to Ponapé by the Gov.-General, but, during his absence, the eccentric Posadillo exercised a most arbitrary authority over the natives. The chiefs were compelled to serve him as menials, and their subjects were formed into gangs, to work like convicts; native teachers were suspended from their duties under threat, and the Capuchins disputed the possession of land, and attempted to coerce the natives to accept their religion.
On July 1 the natives did not return to their bondage, and all the soldiers, led by the sub-lieutenant, were sent to bring them in by force. A fight ensued, and the officer and troops, to the last man, were killed or mortally wounded by clubs, stones and knives. The astonished Governor fortified his place, which was surrounded by the enemy. The tribes of the chiefs Nott and Jockets were up in arms. There was the hulk Da. Maria de Molina anchored in the roadstead, and the Capuchins fled to it on the first alarm. The Governor escaped from his house on the night of July 4 with his companions, and rushed to the sea, probably intending to swim out to the hulk. But who knows? He and all his partisans were chased and killed by the natives.
On September 21 the news of the tragedy reached Manila by the man-oʼ-war San Quintin. About six weeks afterwards, three men-oʼ-war were sent to Ponapé with infantry, artillery, a mountain battery, and a section of Engineers—a total of about 558 men—but on their arrival they met an American warship—the Essex—which had hastened on to protect American interests. The Spaniards limited their operations to the seizure of a few accused individuals, whom they brought to Manila, and the garrison of Yap was increased to 100 men, under a Captain and subordinate officers. The prisoners were tried in Manila by court-martial, and I acted as interpreter. It was found that they had only been loyal to the bidding of their chiefs, and were not morally culpable, whilst the action of the late Governor of Ponapé met with general reprobation.
Again, in July, 1890, a party of 54 soldiers, under Lieutenant Porras, whilst engaged in felling timber in the forest, was attacked by the Malatana (Caroline) tribe, who killed the officer and 27 of his men. The news was telegraphed to the Home Government, and caused a great sensation in Madrid. A conference of Ministers was at once held, and the Cánovas del Castillo Ministry cabled to the Gov.-General Weyler discretionary power to punish these islanders. Within a few months troops were sent from Manila for that purpose. Instead, however, of chastising the Kanakas, the Government forces were repulsed by them with great slaughter. The commissariat arrangements were most deficient: my friend Colonel Gutierrez Soto, who commanded the expedition, was so inadequately supported by the War Department that, yielding to despair, and crestfallen by reason of the open and adverse criticism of his plan of campaign, he shot himself.
Under the Treaty of Paris (1898) the Island of Guam (Ladrone group) was ceded by Spain to the United States, together with the Philippine Islands. The remainder of the Ladrone group, the Caroline and the Pelew Islands were sold by Spain to Germany in June, 1899.
[1] Velas, Spanish for sails.
[2] Ladrones, Spanish for thieves.
[3] Mr. Doane is reported to have died in Honolulu about June, 1890