CHAPTER IIII
Of my stay in Manila
1. Don Diego Faxardo Chacon was governor of the islands. That gentleman had great gifts for government, for he had a horror of money and of women. One day father Fray Andres Gomez, a religious of my order, took him a bit of the lignum crucis [i.e., wood of the cross] set in gold. He valued it highly, but refused to receive the relic until the gold was taken away. He was very retiring, and gave ear to no one save Manuel Estacio de Venegas. The latter grew so haughty by reason of the favoritism and power that he possessed, that he dominated everything as a despot. He was feared by all people, no less than was Nero in his time; but well did he rue it afterward. Don Diego Faxardo had kept Don Sebastian de Corcuera a prisoner already for five years. Strange reversal of fortune that! Don Sebastian was the most feared, and the most haughty and absolute governor that has ever been in those islands. In his time happened that exile of the archbishop which caused so much comment among all those nations. He undertook the Jolo war, in which the nobility of Manila were destroyed. The island of Hermosa was lost by his neglect and carelessness in sending reënforcements, as was stated by all people there. He amassed untold wealth. He was sent a prisoner to Nueva España, and then to Madrid, where it is said that he negotiated advantageously. They were expecting in Manila different news from that which arrived, of the condition of his affairs. I know well that they have written that he was a very disinterested man, but the author does not prove the statement further than by saying so. I read in a document that Don Sebastian de Corcuera purged himself of that charge by saying that he had amassed his wealth with the pay given him by his Majesty. But another document presents the following argument. First, that governors cannot trade and traffic with the pay given them by his Majesty. Second, that it is impossible to gain with his pay what he spent in the monstrance which was recently taken to his Majesty; what was lost in the ship wrecked at the Ladrones, and what was burned at Acapulco; and the money that he possessed in Mexico, with the large sums taken from him in Burgos. Nor can it be inferred that he was a good governor, because he acted as a good Christian after he left the islands. Nor does there follow any other inconvenience from making known the truth with good zeal than the fact that those who do not wish to know it are not pleased to hear it. While Estacio de Venegas was a citizen of Manila, he was liked by all; but, when he became the favorite, he was hated. It makes a great difference whether one is in the position or not, in order that he may govern himself according to his natural disposition. Don Sebastian was the one who instituted the vandalas (this is a name given by the natives, and signifies repartimiento), which have destroyed all the Indians. In order that one may understand what they are, I will explain them here in a few words. I assume, at the start, that it is a great piece of ignorance to attribute this repartimiento to Don Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, or to make him its author. When that gentleman assumed the government, the Indians must have been paying the vandalas for fourteen or more years; then how could he have originated them? For, in the term of that gentleman, Pampanga rose in insurrection in order not to pay that tax. Someone, or several people, new to the country, must have invented what was afterward declared with the mouth. It is true that that insurrection caused Don Sabiniano to give the Indians a great sum of pesos on account of what was owing to them, as I was told afterward; but that was to pay [their just due], which has nothing to do with saying that he invented that imposition. In fine, after the Indian has paid his tribute, helped in the cutting of wood, and rendered personal services (which are numerous), levies on the provinces are made each year. For example, Pampanga is assessed twenty-four thousand fanegas of rice at the price of two or two and one-half reals per fanega, as it is for his Majesty; and it is placed on credit until such time as God pleases.[3] That quota [of rice] is apportioned among the Indians of that province, and is collected with great rigor, and with many deceits which the officials[4] who exact it practice. [This levy] costs him to whom three fanegas are allotted at least one-half fanega more than he gives in his measure; and him who gives six, one fanega more, and so on. This is what is called vandala, and this is what they [i.e., the Spaniards] have paid for so many years—whence it follows that the Indians leave the islands, as I shall relate in another part, and that they refuse to sow their fields, as I myself have heard. It is an evident fact that if once in a while that assessment were to be levied on the account of the tribute, or if they were exempted from personal services, the Indians would be very happy and satisfied. But how can this continue all the years? and how can there be money in the treasury to pay the employees, officials, and leaders, and to meet other expenses, when there is never any money to pay for what is bought from the Indians? If the Indians die on account of this and other things, of what use will that country be, and what will the Spaniards do there?
3 [i.e., 2]. The greatest hardship that we religious endure in the villages of the Indians is the sight of their sufferings, and the effort to seek means and methods to console them. It happens (as it happened in my time) that the rice-crop in a village was ruined (this is a quite usual occurrence, because of the rats which eat it, and at other times for the lack of water, and at others because the sea rises and overflows their fields) so that it was impossible to pay even the tribute. That was explained to the alcalde-mayor, and a petition was presented to the governor. But nothing had any effect, and the Indians had to purchase the rice at four reals per fanega, and gave it to his Majesty on credit that would never be paid, at two and one-half reals [per fanega]. Surely, the paternal compassion of our most Catholic kings would not permit such things if they had any knowledge of them. It would be better for the Indians that the governors should support them, and that they should work during the whole year for the tribute and vandalas, than that they should be treated as they are today. It is a great misfortune that the Tartar protects so well the Chinese, his vassals, while our people try to escape from caring for the vassals of our king and sovereign, although his will has been so often declared and charged upon them. It is no wonder that those islands are so exhausted, although it is a land which in every way is exceedingly good, abundant, and fertile.
[3]. If I were to mention special cases I would never finish. In my time I know well that an alcalde-mayor of Ilocos squeezed fourteen thousand pesos from his district in two years. In how good condition must the Indians and their land have remained! It would be well for those who write and have written from there to speak clearly and specifically of things and persons, and not in general and in loose terms, thus giving opportunity to blame the innocent or to clear the guilty. That ought to be a special end or desire. Everyone knows how disinterestedly our province lives and has lived in that land, and that it has never allowed the slightest income as dues of the Indians whom it administers. It has never received them, but has always been satisfied with the alms which both the Spaniards and the natives of the country freely give. In that way have they maintained themselves, while with the alms given them by his Majesty (may God preserve him) they have clothed themselves, and nothing has been wanting. It is necessary to declare who does it, in order not to injure all....
4. One year a certain governor wrote against Ours of Pangasinan (he was at one time affectioned to Ours and at another averse, for so wags the world) that they had burned some forests whence wood had to be obtained for the shipbuilding, etc. What effects would such a letter cause if seen in the Council of the Indias, and one written by a governor? If one wished to burn the hundredth part of one single forest with the help of ten thousand Indians, he could not do it in a whole year; to whomever has seen the forests of Philipinas this remark is not only true but most true, and the proofs are more than evident. The effect produced by the Negrillos who live in the interior of those and other forests, although they are numerous and make fires daily, is never noticed or heard of. In the island of Mindoro, where I made two journeys, I saw with my own eyes what the Indians do there. They have no lands for sowing. In order to get rice they set fire to a bit of forest. After days of labor in it they continue to fell and cut down the small trees together with the branches; then they again set fire to it and burn it all. They set fires at the foot of the large trees, until gradually the thick ones are consumed. As the trees are so hard-wooded, it is necessary to take a week and even longer to arrange and feed the fire. After an Indian has worked from morning to night for two months, he manages to clear an obrada[5] of land. Then how could a vicar and a few Indians burn whole forests? If this were not so, I would not write it; but, since the case is quite forgotten, I will refrain [from enlarging on] it—except that, for others that may happen, it is advisable to know this one, so that no one may inconsiderately believe what is in reality incredible. Don Sebastian Cavallero de Medina, while fiscal for his Majesty in Manila, in order to show his zeal or to gain reputation, wrote about the excessive fees which the religious collected from the Indians. People here would believe that such an offense was common to all. He ought to have made known what was in it, and not place the innocent in danger of being declared guilty by not explaining the fault of some persons.
5. A week after our arrival we were divided among various provinces in order to learn the languages, and be able to minister to the Indians. I remained in the province of Manila, where I learned the Tagálog language in company with others without much difficulty. If the grammar or other handbook were studied in Europa with the earnestness with which we study languages there, any person would become learned in a very brief time. Within five months we were all confessing and preaching, and in one year we were very capable in both, and in discussing the affairs of the Indians with them. During that time, besides the occupations of the choir and church, we diverted ourselves with no other thing. All that time we spent in humbling ourselves to the elements and rudiments of extraordinary languages, for the maintenance and advantage of those souls. If the temperature were not so unlike that of our own country, we could have done twice as much. In order to relieve ourselves from the excessive heat, we made use of baths and of the fruits, which are very delicious; but, as time went on, we experienced sickness. The Indians always seemed fine fellows to me. They are not changeable and rough like those whom we saw in Mexico, but tractable and urbane and of especial intelligence and fine ability. Among them are some famous writers, painters, and sculptors. They are very adaptable for any mechanical work, and, above all, docile and very submissive to the priests. In regard to understanding the precepts of our holy faith, they can rival many here and surpass others. They possess fine books in their language, which have been printed by the religious. They are fond of reading in these, and to our labor and their docility is this fact owing. The Indian women are very devout and composed, and frequent the sacraments with great fervor. There is no feast, great or small, at which there are not a large number of confessions and communions. I said often that the fervor of the old [Christians] of Castilla had passed to the Indians (both men and women) of Manila.
Often the Indians celebrate the feasts well. Rarely is one of them found who does not dance beautifully. Consequently, they have dancing and music in the processions; they play the harp and guitar excellently. His Majesty furnishes eight singers in every church. They have certain privileges, as they are busied in the divine office. They sing excellently, and, as there are always candidates, the number is always in excess. But only the eight who are assigned enjoy the privileges conceded. The adornment of the churches is quite sufficient, and is neat and tasteful. Since there are plenty of roses, other flowers, and fragrant herbs throughout the year, these things go far to furnish suitable adornment for the churches.
6. The Indians are much given to the use of the bow and arrow, especially the Indians called Cambales and those who live in the mountains. Their offensive and defensive weapons consist of such arms. I heard the old priests tell of many acts of skill in the use of them, which I was unable to believe until I had the opportunity to see it thoroughly for myself. People should not be so ready to believe whatever they hear, nor yet so obstinate as I have been at times. One day I came across a band of Indians from the mountain, among whom were four of seven or eight years of age or thereabout. I took an orange (a fruit of which there is an infinite supply there) and threw it up into the air as high as possible. Then said I, “There, my lads, shoot me that orange.” Instantly all four shot it in the air, and it fell in bits. Another new religious and myself stood stupefied, while the old one who had told us about it laughed at us. I saw that with my own eyes in the small village called Abucanamataas. This is a sufficient proof that they are good archers.
7. During my stay in the islands, I attended to whatever obedience ordered me. I ministered to the Indians, lectured in our college and university of Santo Thomas, and preached—although I was always in poor health, for during two years the [climate of the] country affected me terribly. During that time some remarkable things happened; but I shall relate only a few of them, in order not to be too prolix. The master-of-camp, Don Lorenço Laso—a fine and valiant soldier, and a giant in presence and stature—was governor of Terrenate. He was not liked by Manuel Estacio. He was accused of some traffic with the Dutch (pure nonsense that); his arrest was ordered, and he died on shipboard somewhat suddenly. His death was imputed to Estacio, and the latter was charged with it; I do not know how he cleared himself. Don Lorenço’s death was felt keenly, and was suspicious. He was well liked by all the community, and so feared and respected by the Chinese infidels that he alone, with sword and shield, in the insurrection that occurred during the term of Corcuera, held back a mob of Chinese on the bridge, who were entering by that way, as did Horatius Cocles on a similar occasion. Admiral Sebastian Lopez, a Portuguese and a most brave soldier, was living in Manila; he had performed wonders in the victories that we gained over the Dutch. He died very suddenly, and apparently by poison. His death was also imputed to Manuel Estacio, as were many other deeds that were current here.
8. As the Dutch had committed depredations in that land in preceding years, and raided the districts of Batan (which are administered by religious of my order), and, because of our lack rather than their own valor, had taken possession of the churches, the government determined to demolish these. The principal mistake consisted in having allowed [the destruction of] those buildings already erected and finished; for they could be of no use to the enemy, since they had no seaport nor anchorage for their ships within one legua, nor yet a safe way by land if they had tried to journey that way. Our cowardice allowed the enemy to enter, and determined the ruin of those buildings, in which the natives suffered great hardship; for not only did they work, but all the timber (which was considerable, excellent, and their own) was taken from them, without giving them a single maravedi for it. Even of the stone Manuel Estacio made gifts. If the materials, since they were theirs, had been left to the Indians, so that they could have made use of them, they could have destroyed the churches and had more than enough money and time for their sowing and ordinary work. Many hardships came upon the poor wretches because of that; the least was that the enemy took some of them captives, as well as two of our religious, who were able ministers in the Tagálog speech.
When Don Lorenço Laso died, Don Lorenco de Ayala became master-of-camp. He had been castellan of the fort of Santiago. He was a very amiable gentleman, and there was no one in Manila who did not love him dearly. Doña Ana Tellez, his wife, was a saintly woman; and the couple were known as “the good married pair.” Each of them was more than seventy years old. Estacio was not satisfied at that, for the proud fellow could not endure to have anyone ascend higher than himself. He heaped troubles upon Don Lorenço and the good old man ended his days to the general sorrow of all who knew him. The staff of office then passed to Don Pedro de Almonte. For some time past that gentleman had been exiled from Manila; he was not of Estacio’s following, and consequently, it was feared that he would be cheated out of the office. But since the governor already had his eyes on Estacio because the latter had done a bad turn to Don Juan de Saraos, he summoned Don Pedro and gave him the command, as well as the habit of Santiago which went with it. The community was overjoyed at that, while Estacio was very sorrowful, and somewhat anxious about his fortune; for since he had been so exalted, and that with no small acts of violence, he could fear that a fall would follow his steps.... On the day of the Holy Cross in September, a quiet rumor spread through the city that he was arrested. All the people kept mute and did not dare to move their lips; for, if it were not true, he who uttered a single word would pay well for it. The news was confirmed, and it was ascertained that he had been imprisoned in the fort of Santiago. The city breathed and was relieved from so heavy a cross that had rested on it for so many years. He commenced on that day to take what God sent him; cum in honore esset non intellexit.[6] He did not understand or know how to retain his power.[7] Much of his property was seized, but he had hidden a vast quantity both in Manila and in Mexico. He suffered and endured, and finally died, after some years, in a dungeon. He would better have contented himself with his first fortune as merchant and citizen of Manila, in which every one liked him. He is the man who said he could stop the mouth of any governor who might succeed Don Diego with one or two hundred thousand pesos of eight. He deceived himself basely.
10. On Corpus Christi day of 53, a not small disaster happened to me, namely, that a bolt of lightning fell on the house of Batan, where I was then stationed. The Lord saved me and the other religious and the men of the convent. One week later another fell and fired off two muskets belonging to the house, killing a negro and an Indian who had gone out hunting. That disaster caused me a great fear; until then I confess that I had had little or no fear of thunder, but since then I have feared it so much that I could not fear it more. A little while after that, on the eve of St. Barnabas, when we were taking our collegiates of Santo Thomas to their vacations, as we were crossing the river the wind blew with great violence, so that the boat overturned and we all fell into the water. The waves were running so high that, as we firmly grasped the planks of the small champan, for it was overturned, it dragged us forward as if we were chaff. Our danger was great; and accordingly I was careful to absolve all, although with great hardship and tribulation. I had no one to absolve me, and almost no feeling or warning to lift my heart to God. The people who were looking at us, without being able to help us, were innumerable. It was God’s pleasure that they should launch some canoes; and, although these were also overturned, they saved us. I was in the greatest danger, because of the weight of my habit. Two negroes who came up to me were they who, next to God, saved my life. We all returned to the wharf; our clothing and other things were lost. But the flask of wine for the mass, with only a little of its contents lost, was washed ashore, where it was recovered. Our Lord was pleased to deliver me, by His mercy, from all those accidents.
11. At that time word reached us of a grievous misfortune which had happened in Cagayan to one of my mission named Fray Luis Gutierrez, a native of Almagro, and a most excellent religious. On the day of the purification of our Lady in that year, he had said two masses in different villages. There was another village three leguas away. For the consolation of those Indians, and so that they might not be left without the mass on so solemn a day, he determined to go thither to say the third, and went by boat through a creek, which was most dangerous because of the crocodiles. In a certain place it was seen that one appeared disturbed. The Indians of the boat aroused themselves and tried to force the craft forward and to make a loud noise with voices and oars. But nothing availed them, for with two cruel blows of its tail against the boat the crocodile overturned it completely, so that they were all thrown into the water. The Indians, being lighter and unhampered by clothing, were able to reach land easily. The poor religious, weighted down by his habit and little used to swimming, was left to be overtaken by that fierce and bloodthirsty animal. It seized him, and the poor man was buried in its fierce entrails....
13. At times I saw most cruel and terrifying crocodiles—especially one morning when, going down to say mass at a village, I was descending the river to the sea. The Indians began to cry out “Crocodile, crocodile!” I looked about me in every direction, but could see none. They pointed it out to me with the finger, but even then I could not be sure that it was one. It was a fact that I did really see it, but, since it was so large and horrible, I could not persuade myself that it was a crocodile, or that there was so large a crocodile in the world as the mass that they pointed out to me. We approached nearer, and I finally saw and distinguished it most clearly. It was sleeping on a sandy islet near the mouth of the river. It seemed to be as large as the mainmast of a ship, and I had before imagined that mass to be some huge tree carried there by the current of that great river. I saw others afterward, although they were not equal to that one in size. Their aspect is most horrible, for they have four eyes, two above and two below. There are a countless number of them in the lake of Bai. During the dry season the larger cattle are pastured near there, for that place abounds in fine pastures. When the bulls and horses are feeding, and as they wander about in their grazing, the crocodile comes out of the water and carries off one today and another tomorrow with as great ease as the cat carries off a rat.
14. A short time before my arrival in the islands, a very peculiar thing happened. Some Indians had been married, and, as they were about to eat, the bride was desirous of going down to the river to wash her feet, as they are in the habit of doing every day and every hour. The house stood partly over the river, as is their custom. While she was washing, a crocodile attacked her and carried her off. At her cries and the noise, some of the people ran out and saw the poor girl in the teeth of the crocodile, which was making off with its prey. The bridegroom, who beheld with his own eyes such a spectacle, blind with love and aroused by anger, with dagger in hand (but more rashly than prudently) threw himself into the water, and followed the beast that was carrying off his beloved prize. He overtook it and fought with it; he recovered his wife and returned triumphantly with the spoil in his arms, but she was already dead and lifeless. The bridegroom came back a widower, and sad and mournful, and with tears was that wedding ended. That was a notable and very memorable occurrence. Many Indians have escaped from those monsters. It has been learned by experience that they are very sensitive in the eyes. Consequently, those who do not lose their presence of mind attack them in that part, on which occasions the crocodile flees as best it can in order to escape. It is said by all the people of that land that when the female lays its eggs, it always goes to some place where there is a current of water near by. The young animals having been hatched go down into the water, where their mother is waiting for them with open mouth. As many as she can catch she eats, but all that escape her, by one side or the other, remain free and alive. This they say is the reason why not all the rivers are full of those animals, although there are many rivers where they abound. I shall return to the crocodiles on another occasion.
[The chapter closes with the account of the baptism of an infant who had been abandoned and thrown into the sea by its mother.]
[1] The translation of the title-page of this book is as follows: “Historical, political, ethical, and religious treatises on the monarchy of China. A brief description of that empire and curious instances regarding the emperors and magistrates of that country. Accompanied by a diffuse narrative of various events and singular things in other kingdoms, and various voyages. The pontifical decrees and propositions authorized in Roma for the Chinese mission are added, and a bull of our most holy father Clemente X, in favor of the missionaries. By the father master Fray Domingo Fernandez Navarrete, professor of morning classes in the college and university of Santo Thomàs of Manila, apostolic missionary in Great China, superior of those of his mission, and procurator-general in the court of Madrid for the province of Santo Rosario of Filipinas, of the Order of Preachers. He dedicates his work to the most serene Don Juan of Austria. Year 1676. With license. Madrid, in the royal printing-house. Printed by Juan Garcia Infançon. At the expense of Florian Anisson, bookseller.”
Domingo Fernandez Navarrete, a native of Peñafiel in the province of Valladolid and diocese of Palencia, and a son of the convent at the same place (December 8, 1635), after having studied in the college at Valladolid became lecturer on philosophy in the same institution. On arriving at the Philippines he was first assigned to the Tagálog missions, and immediately appointed lecturer in theology in the college of Santo Tomás of Manila; but he was sent to the province of Bataan because of his poor health. Soon, however, his superiors were compelled to reappoint him to the chair in the college, for the same reason. Taking advantage of the summer vacation, the zealous father went to the Mindoro missions, where he labored and suffered considerably; and in 1653 he went to Macasar, whence he had to return without accomplishing anything. His ill health continuing, he was forced to try to return to his convent in Spain. He was detained for some time in Macasar, and there, fearing the long journey ahead of him, determined to go to China by way of Macao—reaching the city of Fogan November 3, 1658, after many sufferings. Applying himself to the study of the Chinese language, he mastered it in both the written and spoken forms. Although he could have escaped at the outbreak of the persecution of Christians in 1664, he refused to do so, and was arrested in February, 1665. July 8 of that year he was taken to Peking with other Dominicans. Being condemned to exile, he left Peking, September 13, 1665, and remained in Canton until 1669, when he secretly set out for Manila. On reaching Macao, he determined to return to Europe instead of to Manila, finally arriving at Lisbon in 1672. He reached Madrid in May of that year, and Rome (his objective point) on January 6, 1673. After his return to Madrid (within sixteen months), he exercised the duties of procurator-general for the Philippine province. In 1677 he was appointed bishop of Isla Española, where he arrived in 1678. He died in 1689, aged over seventy. He wrote three volumes of his voyages, but only two of them were printed; these appeared in several languages. He also wrote various things in the Chinese language. See Reseña biográfica, i, pp. 455–459. [↑]
[2] Near the end of the preceding chapter, our author states that the name Acapulco “means, in the language of that country, ‘mouth of hell.’” [↑]
[3] That is, the native has to supply the rice, and is (at least nominally) credited with it on an account; but he receives no return for it until the royal officials choose to pay. [↑]
[4] Spanish arraezes: a term applied to the captains of Moorish vessels; here probably referring to the captains of the champans or other small vessels sent to convey the rice, etc., levied from the natives. [↑]
[5] As much ground as two mules or two oxen can plow in one day. [↑]
[6] i.e., “when he lived in honor, he did not understand.” [↑]
[7] Spanish, assegurare en los estriuos—literally, “to keep himself safe in the stirrups.” [↑]