Certain small handicrafts are almost entirely taken up by the Chinese, such as boot-making, furniture-making, small smithʼs-work and casting, tin-working, tanning, dyeing, etc., whilst the natives are occupied as silversmiths, engravers, saddlers, water-colour painters, furniture-polishers, bookbinders, etc. A few years ago the apothecaries were almost exclusively Germans; now the profession is shared with natives, half-castes, and one British firm.
The thoroughfares were crowded with carriages during the whole day drawn by pretty native ponies. The public conveyance regulations in Spanish times were excellent. The rates for hiring were very moderate, and were calculated by the time engaged. Incivility of drivers was a thing almost unknown. Their patience was astonishing. They would, if required, wait for the fare for hours together in a drenching rain without a murmur. Having engaged a vehicle (in Manila or elsewhere) it is usual to guide the driver by calling out to him each turn he has to take. Thus, if he be required to go to the right—mano (hand) is the word used; if to the left—silla (saddle) is shouted. This custom originated in the days before natives were intrusted to drive, when a postilion rode the left (saddle) pony, and guided his right (hand) animal with a short rein.
Through the city and suburbs ran lines of tramway with cars drawn by ponies, and (from October 20, 1888 until 1905) a steam tramway operated as far as Malabon.
Fortunately, Easter week brought two days of rest every year for the ponies, namely, Holy Thursday and Good Friday. As in Spain also, with certain exceptions, such as doctors, urgent Government service, etc., vehicles were not permitted in the streets and highways on those days. Soldiers passing through the streets on service carried their guns with the muzzles pointing to the ground. The church bells were tolled with muffled hammers; hence, the vibration of the metal being checked, the peal sounded like the beating of so many tin cans. The shops were closed, and, so far as was practicable, every outward appearance of care for worldly concerns was extinguished, whilst it was customary for the large majority of the population—natives as well as Europeans—who went through the streets to be attired in black. On Good Friday afternoon there was an imposing religious procession through the city and suburbs. On the following Saturday morning (Sábado de Gloria), there was a lively scene after the celebration of Mass. In a hundred portals and alleys, public and private vehicles were awaiting the peal of the unmuffled church bells. The instant this was heard there was a rush in all directions—the clanking of a thousand poniesʼ feet; the rumbling sound of hundreds of carriages. The mingled shouts of the natives and the Chinese coolies showed with what bated anxiety and forced subjection material interest and the affairs of this life had been held in check and made subservient to higher thoughts.
An official computation in the year 1885 stated the average number of vehicles which passed through the main street of the city (Calle Real) per day to be 950; through the Escolta, the principal street of Binondo, 5,000; and across the bridge, connecting Binondo with Manila City (where the river is 350 feet wide), 6,000.
Sir John Bowring, in the account of his short visit to Manila in 1858, says he was informed on good authority that the average number of vehicles passing daily at that date through the Escolta amounted to 915; across the bridge, between Binondo and Manila, 1,256; so that apparently in 27 years the number of vehicles in use had increased by about five to one.
The Pasig River is navigable by steam-launches and specially-constructed steamers of light draught, which go up the whole distance into the Laguna de Bay. The river is crossed at Manila and suburbs by three bridges, the chief of which is the Puente de España.[6]
In the suburbs there were four Theatres, in none of which a dramatic company of any note would consent to perform. In one (the Teatro Filipino) the performance could be partly seen from the street; another (the Teatro de Tondo) was situated in a dirty thoroughfare in a low quarter; the third (the Teatro del Principe) usually gave an entertainment in dialect for the amusement of the natives; and the fourth (the Teatro Zorrilla), located in Tondo, was built to serve as theatre or circus without any regard to its acoustic properties; hence only one-third of the audience could hear the dialogue. There was a permanent Spanish Comedy Company (on tour at times in Yloilo and Cebú), and occasionally a troupe of foreign strolling players, a circus, a concert, or an Italian Opera Company came to Manila to entertain the public for a few weeks.
In 1880 there used to be a kind of tent-theatre, called the Carrillo where performances were given without any pretence to histrionic art or stage regulations. The scenes were highly ridiculous, and the gravest spectator could not suppress laughter at the exaggerated attitudes and comic display of the native performers. The public had full licence to call to the actors and criticize them in loud voices séance tenante—often to join in the choruses and make themselves quite at home during the whole spectacle. About a year afterwards the Carrillo was suppressed. The first Spaniards who systematically taught the Filipinos European histrionics were Ramon Cubero and his wife, Elisea Raguer (both very popular in their day), whose daughter married the Philippine actor and dramatic author José Carvajal. The old-fashioned native play was the “Moro Moro,” which continued in full vogue, in the provinces, up to the end of Spanish dominion.[7]
In the suburb of Paco there was a bull-ring, which did not generally attract the élite, as a bull-fight there was simply a burlesque upon this national sport as seen in Spain. I have witnessed a Manila espada hang on to the tail of his victim, and a banderillero meet the rush of the bull with a vault over his head, amidst hoots from the shady class of audience who formed the habitués of the Manila ring.