Borneo and the Indian Archipelago / with drawings of costume and scenery

by Frank Marryat

Manilla is, however, a very delightful place; and to us, who had been so many months among savages, it appeared a Paradise. The canal I have alluded to divides the fortified city from the suburban towns of San Fernando, San Gabriel, and others, in which are situated all the commercial houses, stores, godowns, dock-yards, and saw mills. All the Chinese and lower orders also reside in these suburbs, and I may add that all the amusements, feasts, &c., are carried on in this quarter. The city of Manilla within the fortifications is a very quiet, clean, and well-regulated town, inhabited entirely by the higher orders: the streets are well laid out, the houses regular, and built of white freestone. In the centre of the city is the Plaza, on one side of which is the cathedral, and opposite it the governor's palace; both very insignificant buildings. The cathedral, which is very ancient, is devoid of all attempt at architecture, and resembles a huge barn; while the governor's palace, in appearance, reminds you of a stable.

CITY OF MANILLA.

During the day the streets of Manilla are perfectly quiet and deserted. At dusk the people begin to move, and show signs of life. The sallyport gates are closed at eleven o'clock at night, after which hour there is neither ingress or egress, and on this point they are most absurdly particular.

The natives of Luzon are much below the middle size. The men are slightly made, weak, and inoffensive; the women, on the contrary, are remarkable for their pretty faces, feet, and figures, set off by a dress of the most picturesque description: a short petticoat, of gaily-coloured silk or cotton, and a boddice of similar material, of sufficient height to cover the bosom, is their usual costume. Their long jet black hair is allowed to fall in tresses down their backs. Many have a kerchief tastefully thrown over their heads; and they wear little velvet slippers, embroidered with gold and silver thread. Their appearance is extremely captivating to foreigners, who do not in a hurry forget their graceful mien and the arch glances from their brilliant eyes. Manilla supports a considerable body of infantry and cavalry, the whole composed of natives of the island. Their horses are small, as well as the men, and are not well trained; but the object of the Spaniards is to make a show to intimidate the Indians, who, having no discipline whatever, are, of course, inferior even to these very moderate troops. Not long ago, one of the strongest forts was taken possession of by a party of rebels, assisted by some soldiers who had revolted: the fort was recaptured, and, as an example, a dreadful slaughter ensued. The parade ground, outside the citadel, was the scene of carnage. A large pit was dug, at the brink of which the victims were placed; they were then shot, and thrown into this grave. Eighty-two were thus butchered, and buried in the pit, over which a mound has been raised, to commemorate their execution.

Outside the town, and half encircling it, there is a splendid esplanade, between an avenue of trees. This leads to the water, when the road runs parallel with it for nearly a mile, terminating at one of the piers of the canal. This is known by the, I presume, correct name of Scandal Point. A number of carriages, filled with all the élite of Manilla, turn out on this drive a little before sunset, and the scene is very gay and exciting. I leave the reader to conceive upwards of 200 carriages passing and repassing, besides equestrians and pedestrians. The reader may say that it must be like the ring at Hyde Park; but it is more brilliant, although not in such good taste; and then it is the beauty of the climate—the contrast between the foliage and the blue ocean—which gives the effect. No buttoning up to an east wind, nor running away from a shower; but ever gay, and fresh, and exhilarating. Here you meet the old Don, enjoying his quiet stroll and cigar, all alone. Soldier officers, in plain dress and long mustachoes, doffing their hats to every señora. The English merchant, in his unassuming undress of a white jacket; the British naval officers, with their gay uniforms and careless manners, prying, with a sailor's curiosity, into every pretty face; and now and then a saucy mid, mounted on a hack, dashing between the line of carriages at a full gallop, disturbing their propriety, and checking the cavalcade, to the great consternation, real or assumed, of the ladies. All was gaiety and gladness; on every side was to be heard the merry laugh and hail of recognition. To add to the excitement, the bands of the several regiments played the most popular airs on a parade adjoining to the esplanade.

While the carriages were driving up and down, the vesper bell tolled from the cathedral. In an instant every carriage stopped—every head was uncovered, and bent in an attitude of devotion. Horses, women, men—all as if transfixed: every tongue silent—nothing heard but the bell of the cathedral, and the light breeze which bore away its vibrations. The bell at last ceased, and in a moment every thing was in full activity as before.

Twice a week a military band plays at the public almeda from nine till ten in the evening; and on one of these nights we started in a carriage to the spot. The almeda is situated close to the gates of the city, and joins to the esplanade. It is an open square, bordered with a row of trees, to which are suspended lamps; while in the spaces between the trees there are seats for the accommodation of the public. In the middle of the almeda is a stand erected for the musicians. On our arrival there we found it well lighted up; the place was surrounded by carriages, which were empty, their occupants having joined the parade. Following the example, we mixed with the throng, which was numerous. The women were mostly collected in groups, and the men were smoking their cheroots and beating time to the music, which was excellent. Lighting our cigars, we strolled lazily along, and, by dint of lamp-light and impudence, managed to form a very tolerable idea of the beauty of the senoras. At ten o'clock, the band struck up a lively polka, which was the signal for a general dispersion. This is considered one of the principal and most favourite recreations at Manilla.

The inhabitants of Manilla are composed of the pure Spaniard, and the Mustichas, or mixed breed. The former are very proud and inhospitable; the latter are, on the contrary, very friendly, and, for any little civility, request that you will make their house your home. The women of the latter are by far the most preferable: the former are said to be very deficient in good-breeding and education; like the Indians, they sleep half the day, and are scarcely alive till sun-down, when they dress for the almeda or esplanade.