In later days he changed his religion—that is if he ever had one to change, and devoted himself to sponging upon the Bible Societies and the protestant and Mormon missionaries who came to the Philippines. On one occasion he translated from Spanish into Tagalog the Holy Scriptures, and seeing that never in his life had he been a successful translator even of newspaper paragraphs, but could only succeed in giving little more than a very general idea of what was contained in the Spanish text, it was not to be wondered at that, as a famous literary critic well versed in the Tagalog once said: “Poblete’s Tagalog bible reads more like a badly written chronicle than a version of the sacred Scriptures. If I thought that our Lord and his Apostles preached and taught what Poblete puts into their mouths, I would go to China and become a disciple of Confucius.”
In the latter days of Spanish rule Poblete was always more or less under the eyes of the authorities, and on the 17th of April 1896 the Secret Police asked of General Blanco the necessary permission to search the houses of several highly suspicious people, among them that of Pascual H. Poblete.
Our hero figured at one time as an expert in the raising of subscriptions for monuments and if I am not very much mistaken, he once had a hand in the raising of money for the coming monument to Rizal the hero and martyr of the Filipino Libre party. It would be very interesting to know what became of all the funds that passed through his hands: the majority apparently went to back his favorite birds at the cock-pits.
Since the American occupation Poblete’s chief enterprise, apart from cock-fighting and “sponging upon the ignorantes who listened to his ravings with more or less favor because he was a protestant, was the editing and publishing of a dirty little “sheet” known as the Ang Kapatid nang Bayan.” In this so called newspaper Poblete aired his radical political ideas with such vigor that the Provost Marshal was compelled to call him down. The pobre diablo then turned his attention to another pastime which would combine the advantages of demonstrating his unsurpassable abilities, of airing his opinions and, last mentioned but of the greatest importance, the quality of putting into his pocket a goodly number of easily earned dollars. This pastime took the shape of a theatrical enterprise: Constancia, the daughter of the said mountebank “composed and wrote” a play entitled Ang Pag Ibig Sa Lupang Tinubinan: For the Love of Country. Poblete’s better half (which is not saying much) played the part of the heroine. The whole play was incendiary in the extreme and the audience being Tagalogs of the lowest and most ignorant class, the result was that they were thrown into a state of the greatest frenzy. Poblete put this play on the boards of the Teatro Oriental. All went well in the first acts; and following out the “plot” of the play, the town of Imus was supposed to have been taken by the rebels. Dramatic shouts of Viva La Independencia; were raised from time to time by the actors, followed by shouts from the audience of Viva Filipinas! Viva Aguinaldo! Suddenly there rushed from the “wings” a gaudy looking creature who ought to have been the Tondo market selling cockles and crabs; this turned out to be the heroine. In one hand she held a revolutionary flag and in the other a bolo. Viva La Independencia was the shout which almost raised the roof; but as fate would have it Poblete was doomed to be humbled to the dust. Just as he was promising himself a fine string of dollars from his new enterprise Capt. Lara and a number of police appeared on the scene, and Poblete, his katipunan banners and bolos etc., were seized and the house cleared of its fanatical occupants.
To-day he amuses himself in fitting out bands of little boys who on “state” occasions parade the streets with American flags and Japanese lanterns, and placards with various inscriptions, the chief ones being petitions for an amnesty on behalf of all those who have “done what they ought not to have done”. Poblete would open the doors of the prisons of the Archipelago and let loose all their occupants. The result? A political boom for Poblete, an increase in the membership of the Partido Nacionalista and an increase of crime to a thousand fold, not only in Manila but throughout the whole archipelago.
Poor Poblete a pobre infeliz, a stain upon the good name of the filipino. But then, what would Filipinas be without her Poblete; almost like a cat without fleas.
[16] If I am not in error, Poblete is a Chinee halfcaste.
[17] Cruz Herrera, now alcalde of Manila, was another upon whom the authorities took pity on account of the rheumatism from which he suffered to such an extent that he could scarcely walk.