I prepared other dinners at various times, but this first spread was to them and to myself a very great pleasure.
Letters from home were full of surprise that we still stayed though the war was over—the newspapers said it was. For us the anxiety and struggle still went on. To be sure there were no pitched battles but the skirmishing was constant; new outbreaks of violence and cruelty were daily occurring, entailing upon our men harassing watch and chase. The insurrectos were butchers to their own people. Captain N. told me that he hired seven native men to do some work around the barracks up in the country and paid them in American money, good generous wages. They carried the money to their leader who was so indignant that they had worked for the Americans that he ordered them to dig their graves and, with his own hands, cut, mutilated, and killed six of them. The seventh survived. Bleeding and almost lifeless, he crawled back to the American quarters and told his story. The captain took a guide and a detail, found the place described, exhumed the bodies and verified every detail of the inhuman deed.
They committed many bloody deeds, then swiftly drew back to the swamps and thickets impenetrable to our men. The very day, the hour, that the Peace Commissioner, Governor Taft, Judge Wright and others to the number of thirty were enjoying an elegantly prepared repast at Jaro there was, within six miles, a spirited conflict going on, our boys trying to capture the most blood-thirsty villains of the islands. This gang had hitherto escaped by keeping near the shore and the impenetrable swamps of the manglares. No foot but a Filipino’s can tread these jungles. When driven into the very closest quarters, they take to their boats, and slip away to some nearby island.
I hope that my son and his men will pardon me for telling that they rushed into some fortifications that they saw on one of their perilous marches and with a sudden fusillade captured the stronghold. The Filipinos had a company of cavalry, one of infantry, one of bolo men, and reserves. The insurrecto captain told me himself that he never was so surprised, mortified, and grieved that such a thing could have been done. They thought there was a large army back of this handful of men, eleven in all. General R. P. Hughes sent the following telegram to my son, and his brave scouts: “To Lieutenant Conger, June 14, 1900, Iloilo. I congratulate you and your scouts on your great success. No action of equal dash and gallantry has come under my notice in the Philippines.” (Signed) R. P. Hughes.
Surrender of General Delgardo and Army. February 2, 1901.
All this time there were negotiations going on to secure surrender and the oath of allegiance. Those who vowed submission did not consider it at all binding.
Cathedral at Oton.