Beggars by the thousand were everywhere, blind, lame, and deformed; homeless, they wandered from town to town to beg, especially on market days. One blind woman, who lived on the road from Iloilo to Jaro, had collected seventy-five “mex,” only to have it stolen by her sister. Complaint was made to the military commander, but it was found that the money had been spent and that there was no redress to be had. She must continue to beg while her sister lived hard by in the new “shack” which she had built with the stolen “denaro” (money).
About three miles from Jaro was quite a leper colony, shunned, of course, by the natives. During confession, the lepers kneeled several rods away from the priests. I saw one poor woman whose feet were entirely gone lashed to a board so she could drag herself along by the aid of her hands, which had not yet begun to decay.
There were no visible means of caring for the sick and afflicted; the insane were kept in stocks or chained to trees, and the U. S. hospitals were so overtaxed by the demands made upon them by our own soldiers that little space or attention could be spared to the natives. Charity begins at home.
God bless the dear women who nursed our sick soldiers; it was my pleasure to know quite intimately several of these girls who have made many a poor boy more comfortable. I am proud, too, of our U. S. Army; of course not all of the men were of the Sunday School order, but under such great discomforts, in such deadly perils, and among such treacherous people, nothing more can be expected of mortal men than they rendered. Many poor boys trusted these natives to their sorrow. They accepted hospitality and their death was planned right before their eyes, they, of course, not understanding the language sufficiently to comprehend what was intended. They paid the penalty of their trust with their lives.
On Decoration Day we were able to make beautiful wreaths and crosses. Our soldiers marched to the cemeteries and placed the flowers on the graves of the brave boys who had given their lives in defence of the flag. I had the pleasure of representing the mothers, whose spiritual presence was, I felt sure, with those far-away loved ones. An officer has written me that Memorial Day was again observed this year, and I am sure it was done fittingly.
A Protestant mission was established at Jaro, in a bamboo chapel, pure bamboo throughout, roof, walls, windows, seats, floor. The seats, however, were seldom used, for the natives prefer to squat on the floor. The congregation consisted of men, women, and children, many of whom came on foot from a distance of twenty or more miles, the older people scantily clad, and the children entirely naked; a more attentive audience would be hard to find, as all were eager to get the “cheap religion.” None of the inhabitants of Jaro attend, as yet; they fear to do so, since they are under the strict surveillance of the padre, and are in the shadow of the seminary for priests, the educational center of the island of Panay.
The Protestant minister is a graduate of this institution and is subject to all imaginable abuses and insults. Under his teachings, a great many have been baptized, who seemed devoutly in earnest; it is inspiring to hear them sing with great zeal the familiar hymns, “Rock of Ages,” “Safe in the Arms of Jesus,” etc. One incident will suffice to illustrate the intense and determined opposition to Protestantism. One of the native teachers was warned not to return to his home, but, in defiance of all threats, he did so, and was murdered before the eyes of his family. I shall expect to hear that many other missionaries have been disposed of in a similar manner, after the withdrawal of the American troops.
Many ask my opinion as to the value of these possessions; to me they seem rich beyond all estimate. A friend whom I met there, a man who has seen practically the whole world, said that, for climate and possibilities, he knew of no country to compare with the Philippines.
The young generation is greedy for knowledge and anxious to progress, though the older people do not take kindly to innovations, but cling to their old superstitions and cruelties. God grant the better day may come soon.
There was quite an ambition among the natives to be musical; they picked up quickly, “by ear,” some of the catchy things our band played. When I heard them playing “A Hot Time in the Old Town To-night,” on their way to the cemetery, I could not restrain my laughter, and if the deceased were of the order of Katapunan the prophecy was fulfilled. Officers informed me that this society was probably the worst one ever organized, more deadly than anarchists ever were. It was originated by the Masons, but the priests acquired control of it and made it a menace to law and order. I should not have escaped with my life had it not been for one of the best friends I have ever known, a “mestizo,” part Spanish and part Filipino. She undoubtedly saved my life by declaring that before anything was done to me she and her husband must be sacrificed. “Greater love hath no man than this.” They were influential people throughout the islands, and nothing occurred.