The bathing establishment was gradually falling into decay, until its complete ruin was brought about by a fire, which left only the remnant of walls. The priest continued there as nominal chaplain with his salary of 10 pesos per month and an allowance of rice. The establishment was not restored until the Government of Domingo Moriones (1877–80). A vapour bath-house and residence were built, but the hospital was left unfinished, and it was rotting away from neglect when the Spaniards evacuated the Islands.
The portion of the Hospital of Los Baños which remained intact, and the house attached thereto, which the natives called “the palace,” served to accommodate invalids who went to take the cure. These baths should only be taken in the dry season—December to May.
Besides the convent and church the town simply consisted of a row of dingy bungalows on either side of the highroad, with a group of the same on the mountain side. Since the American advent the place has been much improved and extended.
On his way from Manila to Los Baños the traveller will pass (on the left bank of the Pasig River) the ruins of Guadalupe Church, which mark the site of a great massacre of Chinese during their revolt in 1603 (vide p. [114]). The following legend of this once beautiful and popular church was given to me by the Recoleto friars at the convent of the Church of La Soledad, in Cavite:—During the construction of the world-famed Escorial, by order of Philip II., the architectʼs nephew, who was employed by his uncle on the work, killed a man. The King pardoned him on condition that he be banished to the Philippines. He therefore came to Manila, took holy orders, and designed and superintended the building of Guadalupe Church, from the scaffolding of which he fell, and having been caught by the neck in a rope suspended from the timbers he was hanged.
During the wars of the Rebellion and Independence this ancient building was destroyed, only the shot-riddled and battered outer walls remaining in 1905.
[1] The city walls were undoubtedly a great safeguard for the Spaniards against the frequent threats of the Mindanao and Sulu pirates who ventured into the Bay of Manila up to within 58 years ago. Also, for more than a century, they were any day subject to hostilities from the Portuguese, whilst the aggressive foreign policy of the mother country during the 17th century exposed them to reprisals by the Dutch fleets, which in 1643 threatened the city of Manila. Formerly the drawbridges were raised, and the city was closed and under sentinels from 11 oʼclock p.m. until 4 oʼclock a.m. It continued so until 1852, when, in consequence of the earthquake of that year, it was decreed that the city should thenceforth remain open night and day. The walled city was officially styled the Plaza de Manila, its last Spanish military governor being General Rizzo, who left for Europe in December, 1898. The most modern drawbridge entrance was the Puerta de Isabel II, (1861), facing the Pasig River.
[2] The Cathedral has been destroyed four times by fire and earthquake, and rebuilt by successive archbishops.
[3] Marivéles.—Much historical interest is attached to this place. It was the chief port of the Jurisdiction of Marivéles under the old territorial division which comprised the island now called Corregidor. Marivéles is now included in the Province of Bataán.
The first Spanish missionary who attempted to domesticate the natives of the Marivéles coast was stoned by them, and died in Manila in consequence. An insubordinate Archbishop was once banished to Marivéles. Through the narrow channel between this port and Corregidor Island, known as Boca chica, came swarms of Asiatic trading-junks every spring for over two centuries. Forming the extreme point of Manila Bay, here was naturally the watchguard for the safety of the capital. It was the point whence could be descried the movements of foreign enemies—Dutch, British, Mahometan, Chinese, etc.; it was the last refuge for ships about to venture from the Islands to foreign parts. Yet, with all these antecedents, it is, to-day, one of the poorest and most primitive villages of the Colony. From its aspect one could almost imagine it to be at the furthermost extremity of the Archipelago. Its ancient name was Camaya, and how it came to be called Marivéles is accounted for in the following interesting legend:—About the beginning of the 17th century one of the Mexican galleons brought to Manila a family named Vélez, whose daughter was called Maria. When she was 17 years of age this girl took the veil in Santa Clara Convent (vide p. [81]), and there responded to the attentions of a Franciscan monk, who fell so desperately in love with her that they determined to elope to Camaya and wait there for the galleon which was to leave for Mexico in the following July. The girl, disguised in a monkʼs habit, fled from her convent, and the lovers arrived safely in Camaya in a hired canoe, tired out after the sea-passage under a scorching sun. The next day they went out to meet the galleon, which, however, had delayed her sailing. In the meantime the elopement had caused great scandal in Manila. A proclamation was published by the town-crier calling upon the inhabitants to give up the culprits, under severe penalties for disobedience. Nothing resulted, until the matter oozed out through a native who was aware of their departure. Then an alderman of the city set out in a prahu in pursuit of the amorous fugitives, accompanied by a notary and a dozen arquebusiers. After searching in vain all over the island now called Corregidor, they went to Camaya, and there found the young lady, Maria, on the beach in a most pitiable condition, with her dress torn to shreds, and by her side the holy friar, wearied and bleeding from the wounds he had received whilst fighting with the savage natives who disputed his possession of the fair maiden. The search-party found there a canoe, in which the friar was conveyed to Manila in custody, whilst the girl was taken charge of by the alderman in the prahu. From Manila the sinful priest was sent to teach religion and morality to the Visaya tribes; the romantic nun was sent back to the City of Mexico to suffer perpetual reclusion in a convent.