By August 30 the uprising was in full force. The rebels were gathered at San Juan del Monte, a suburb of Manila, where the first battle was fought. This took place between the Filipinos under command of Sancho Valenzuela (sän´kō väl ān thu ā´lä) and three others, and some native cavalry and members of the Guardia Civil. The Filipinos were driven back, and on that day martial law was proclaimed in Manila and in the provinces about the bay. Later the rebel leaders at San Juan were shot on the Luneta. This was the first of many executions which took place from week to week afterwards, until the green lawn of the Luneta was saturated with patriot blood.
Now there was war in earnest between the Spanish and the Filipinos. The rebellion was growing daily, and the cream of Manila society was in the jails. Governor-General Blanco was still inclined to look upon the uprising as merely local, and not to regard it seriously; but he was constantly urged to severe measures by certain of his advisers. They desired that all rebels caught should be put to death at once, and there seemed no length to which their vindictive spirit was not willing to go. The newspapers of Manila were forbidden to speak of the uprising, or to use the words “rebellion” or “rebel.” The matter was treated as of slight importance, and the natives engaged in the insurrection were spoken of as bandits. This was also the tone which Governor-General Blanco adopted in all the despatches which he sent to the home government.
Province after province declared with the rebels, until all southern Luzon was in revolt. Cavite Province had become the center of the uprising, and Emilio Aguinaldo (ä mēl´ē ō äg wē näl´dō), formerly a schoolmaster at Cavite, came to the front as a leader. He was a native of the city of Cavite, born March 22, 1869, and at this time was about twenty-seven years old.
DUNGEON AT CAVITE.
By the middle of September, troops to the number of 6,000 had been sent up from Zamboanga and southern stations to aid the government at Manila. Nearly two-thirds of these were natives, however, and the Spaniards felt that they had good reason to distrust their loyalty. The rebels were in great force about Silang, Imus (ē´ mus), and Novaleta (nō vä lā´tä), and there were uprisings in Tarlac (tär´läk), Pangasinan, Laguna, Morong, and Tayabas.
On October 1 a steamer arrived from Spain with a battalion of marines, which was warmly welcomed by the Spaniards. The next day came another steamer with more troops, and after that a large number of men came, until, before the trouble was over, there were 28,000 Spanish soldiers in the islands. These, however, were raw drafts. The trouble in Cuba had taken all of Spain’s fighting men, and she had nothing to send to the Philippines but boys. These young soldiers were undrilled, without uniforms, and but poorly armed.
The Filipinos were no better off than the Spanish troops. They were hardier, but they were even more poorly armed. They had some rifles, but most of their guns were made of gas or water pipe wrapped with telegraph wire. They had cannon made from boiler tubes and from old bells and other metal. But they were determined and courageous, and were fighting for what was dearer to them than life—the decent treatment to which every free man is entitled at the hands of his government.
The Spanish treated all Filipinos captured with great cruelty. From time to time suspects were sent in from the provinces, bound hand and foot; they were hauled up from the holds of vessels with chain and hook, and discharged as cargo, like bales of hemp.
The rainy season set in, and General Blanco had not the force at his command which his successor had afterwards. The native troops were not to be depended upon, and it was almost impossible for the few Spanish soldiers to get about the country. He contented himself, therefore, with keeping the rebels out of Manila.