The total European force when General Blanco left was about 10,000 men. In Cavite Province the Spaniards held only the camp of Dalahican, and the city and arsenal of Cavite with the isthmus. The total number of suspects shipped away was about 1,000. I was informed by my friend the Secretary of the Military Court that 4,377 individuals were awaiting trial by court-martial. The possibility of the insurgents ever being able to enter the capital was never believed in by the large majority of Europeans, although from a month after the outbreak the rebels continued to hold posts within a couple of hoursʼ march from the old walls. The natives, however, were led to expect that the rebels would make an attempt to occupy the city on Saint Andrewʼs Day (the patron-saint day of Manila, vide p. [50]). The British Consul and a few British merchants were of opinion that a raid on the capital was imminent, and I, among others, was invited by letter, dated Manila, November 16, 1896, and written under the authority of H.B.M.ʼs Consul, to attend a meeting on the 18th of that month at the offices of a British establishment to concert measures for escape in such a contingency. In spite of these fears, business was carried on without the least apparent interruption.
When General Blanco reached Spain he quietly lodged at the Hotel de Roma in Madrid, and then took a private residence. Out of courtesy he was offered a position in the Cuarto Militar, which he declined to accept. For several months he remained under a political cloud, charged with incompetency to quell the Philippine Rebellion. But there is something to be said in justification of Blancoʼs inaction. He was importuned from the beginning by the relentless Archbishop and many leading civilians to take the offensive and start a war à outrance with an inadequate number of European soldiers. His 6,000 native auxiliaries (as it proved later on) could not be relied upon in a civil war. Against the foreign invader, with Spanish prestige still high, they would have made good loyal fighting-material. Blanco was no novice in civil wars. I remember his career during the previous twenty-five years. With his 700 European troops he parried off the attacks of the first armed mobs in the Province of Manila (now Rizal), and defended the city and the approaches to the capital. Five hundred European troops had to be left, here and there, in Visayas for the ordinary defence. Before the balance of 300 could be embarked in half a dozen places in the south and landed in Manila, the whole Province of Cavite was in arms. He could not leave the defence of the city entirely in the hands of untrained and undrilled volunteers and march the whole of his European regular troops into another province. A severe reverse, on the first encounter, might have proved fatal to Spanish sovereignty. Blanco had the enormous disadvantage (one must live there to appreciate it) of the wet season, and the rebels understood this. He had, therefore, to damp the movement by feigning to attach to it as little importance as possible. Lastly, Blanco was a man of moderate and humane tendencies; a colonial governor of the late Martinez Campos school, whose policy is—when all honourable peaceful means are exhausted, use force.
The Cánovas party was broken up by the assassination of the Prime Minister on August 8, 1897. This ministry was followed by the provisional Azcárraga Cabinet, which, at the end of six weeks, was superseded by the Liberal party under the leadership of Práxedes Sagasta, who, to temporize with America, recalled the inflexible General Weyler from Cuba, and on October 9 appointed General Ramon Blanco, Marquis de Peña Plata, to take the command there.
General Camilo Polavieja (Marquis de Polavieja) arrived in Manila in December, 1896, as the successor of Blanco and the chosen Messiah of the friars. He had made a great name in Cuba as an energetic military leader, which, in Spanish colonies, always implied a tinge of wanton cruelty. In Spain he was regarded as the right arm of the ultra-clericals and a possible supporter of Carlism. He was accompanied by General Lachambre, whose acquaintance I made in Havana. In the same steamer with General Polavieja came 500 troops, whilst another steamer simultaneously brought 1,500. Polavieja, therefore, on landing, had about 12,000 European troops and 6,000 native auxiliaries; but each steamer brought fresh supplies until the total European land forces amounted to 28,000. By this time, however, the 6,000 native troops were very considerably reduced by desertion, and the remainder could hardly be relied upon. But Polavieja started his campaign with the immense advantage of having the whole of the dry season before him. General Lachambre, as Deputy Commander of the forces, at once took the field against the rebels in Cavite Province. It would be tedious to relate in detail the numerous encounters with the enemy over this area. Battles were fought at Naig, Maragondón, Perez Dasmariñas, Nasugbú, Taal, Bacoor, Novaleta, and other places. Imus, which in Manila was popularly supposed to be a fortress of relative magnitude, whence the rebels would dispute every inch of ground, was attacked by a large force of loyal troops. On their approach the rebels set fire to the village and fled. Very few remained to meet the Spaniards, and as these few tried to escape across the paddy-fields and down the river they were picked off by sharp-shooters. It was a victory for the Spaniards, inasmuch as their demonstration of force scared the rebels into evacuation. But it was necessary to take Silan, which the rebels hastened to strengthen, closely followed up by the Spaniards. The place was well defended by earthworks and natural parapets, and for several hours the issue of the contest was doubtful. The rebels fought bravely, leaping from boulder to boulder to meet the foe. In every close-quarter combat the bowie-knife had a terrible effect, and the loyal troops had suffered heavily when a column of Spaniards was marched round to the rear of the rebelsʼ principal parapet. They were lowered down with ropes on to a rising ground facing this parapet, and poured in a continuous rifle fire until the rebels had to evacuate it, and the general rout commenced with great slaughter to the insurgents, who dispersed in all directions. Their last stronghold south of Manila having been taken, they broke up into small detachments, which were chased and beaten wherever they made a stand. The Spaniards suffered great losses, but they gained their point, for the rebels, unable to hold any one place against this onslaught, were driven up to the Laguna Province and endeavoured unsuccessfully to hold the town of Santa Cruz. It is interesting to remark, in order to show what the rebel aim at that time really was, that they entered here with the cry of “Long live Spain; Death to the Friars!” After three monthsʼ hard fighting, General Lachambre was proclaimed the Liberator of Cavite and the adjoining districts, for, by the middle of March, 1897, every rebel contingent of any importance in that locality had been dispersed.
Like every other Spanish general in supreme command abroad, Polavieja had his enemies in Spain. The organs of the Liberal party attacked him unsparingly. Polavieja, as everybody knew, was the chosen executive of the friars, whose only care was to secure their own position. He was dubbed the “General Cristiano.” He was their ideal, and worked hand-in-hand with them. He cabled for more troops to be sent with which to garrison the reconquered districts and have his army corps free to stamp out the rebellion, which was confined to the Northern Provinces. Cuba, which had already drained the Peninsula of over 200,000 men, still required fresh levies to replace the sick and wounded, and Polaviejaʼs demand was refused. Immediately after this he cabled that his physical ailments compelled him to resign the commandership-in-chief, and begged the Government to appoint a successor. The Madrid journals hostile to him thereupon indirectly attributed to him a lie, and questioned whether his resignation was due to ill-health or his resentment of the refusal to send out more troops. Still urging his resignation, General Fernando Primo de Rivera was gazetted to succeed him, and Polavieja embarked at Manila for Spain on April 15, 1897. General Lachambre, as the hero of Cavite, followed to receive the applause which was everywhere showered upon him in Spain. As to Polaviejaʼs merits, public opinion was very much divided, and as soon as it was known that he was on the way, a controversy was started in the Madrid press as to how he ought to be received. El Imparcial maintained that he was worthy of being honoured as a 19th century conquering hero. This gave rise to a volley of abuse on the other side, who raked up all his antecedents and supposed tendencies, and openly denounced him as a dangerous politician and the supporter of theocratic absolutism. According to El Liberal of May 11, Señor Ordax Avecilla, of the Red Cross Society, stated in his speech at the Madrid Mercantile Club, “If he (the General) thought of becoming dictator, he would fall from the heights of his glory to the Hades of nonentity.” His enemies persistently insinuated that he was really returning to Spain to support the clericals actively. But perhaps the bitterest satire was levelled against him in El Pais of May 10, which, in an article headed “The Great Farce,” said: “Do you know who is coming? Cyrus, King of Persia; Alexander, King of Macedonia; Cæsar Augustus; Scipio the African; Gonzalo de Córdova; Napoleon, the Great Napoleon, conqueror of worlds. What? Oh, unfortunate people, do you not know? Polavieja is coming, the incomparable Polavieja, crowned with laurels, commanding a fleet laden to the brim with rich trophies; it is Polavieja, gentlemen, who returns, discoverer of new worlds, to lay at the feet of Isabella the Catholic his conquering sword; it is Polavieja who returns after having cast into obscurity the glories of Hernan Cortés; Polavieja, who has widened the national map, and brings new territories to the realm—new thrones to his queen. What can the people be thinking of that they remain thus in silence? Applaud, imbeciles! It is Narvaez who is resuscitated. Now we have another master!” No Spanish general who had arrived at Polaviejaʼs position would find it possible to be absolutely neutral in politics, but to compare him with Narvaez, the military dictator, proved in a few daysʼ time to be the grossest absurdity. On May 13 Polavieja arrived in Barcelona physically broken, half blind, and with evident traces of a disordered liver. His detractors were silent; an enthusiastic crowd welcomed him for his achievements. He had broken the neck of the rebellion, but by what means? Altogether, apart from the circumstances of legitimate warfare, in which probably neither party was more merciful than the other, he initiated a system of striking terror into the non-combatant population by barbarous tortures and wholesale executions. On February 6, 1897, in one prison alone (Bilibid) there were 1,266 suspects, most of whom were brought in by the volunteers, for the forces in the field gave little quarter and rarely made prisoners. The functions of the volunteers, organized originally for the defence of the city and suburbs, became so elastic that, night after night, they made men and women come out of their houses for inspection conducted most indecorously. The men were escorted to the prisons from pure caprice, and subjected to excessive maltreatment. Many of them were liberated in the course of a few days, declared innocent, but maimed for life and for ever unable to get a living. Some of these victims were well known to everybody in Manila; for instance, Dr. Zamora, Bonifacio Arévalo the dentist, Antonio Rivero (who died under torture), and others. The only apparent object in all this was to disseminate broadcast living examples of Spanish vengeance, in order to overawe the populace. Under General Blancoʼs administration such acts had been distinctly prohibited on the representation of General Cárlos Roca.
Dr. José Rizal
The Philippine Patriot, executed Dec. 30, 1896.
Polaviejaʼs rule brought the brilliant career of the notable Filipino, Dr. José Rizal y Mercado, to a fatal end. Born in Calamba (La Laguna), three hoursʼ journey from Manila, on June 19, 1861, he was destined to become the idol of his countrymen, and consequently the victim of the friars and General Polavieja. Often have I, together with the old native parish priest, Father Leoncio Lopez, spent an hour with Joséʼs father, Francisco Mercado, and heard the old man descant, with pride, on the intellectual progress of his son at the Jesuitsʼ school in Manila. Before he was fourteen years of age he wrote a melodrama in verse entitled Junto al Pasig (“Beside the Pasig River”), which was performed in public and well received. But young José yearned to set out on a wider field of learning. His ambition was to go to Europe, and at the age of twenty-one he went to Spain, studied medicine, and entered the Madrid University, where he graduated as Doctor of Medicine and Philosophy. He subsequently continued his studies in Paris, Brussels, London, and at several seats of learning in Germany, where he obtained another degree, notwithstanding the fact that he had the difficulty of a foreign language to contend with. As happened to many of his confrères in the German Universities, a career of study had simultaneously opened his eyes to a clearer conception of the rights of humanity. Thrown among companions of socialistic tendencies, his belief in and loyalty to the monarchical rule of his country were yet unshaken by the influence of such environment; he was destined only to become a disturbing element, and a would-be reformer of that time-worn institution which rendered secular government in his native land a farce. To give him a party name, he became an anti-clerical, strictly in a political and lawful sense. He was a Roman Catholic, but his sole aim, outside his own profession, was to save his country from the baneful influence of the Spanish friars who there held the Civil and Military Government under their tutelage. He sought to place his country on a level of material and moral prosperity with others, and he knew that the first step in that direction was to secure the expulsion of the Monastic Orders. He sympathized with that movement which, during his childhood, culminated in the Cavite Conspiracy (vide p. [106]). He looked profoundly into the causes of his countryʼs unhappiness, and to promote their knowledge, in a popular form, he wrote and published in Germany, in the Spanish language, a book entitled “Noli me tángere.” It is a censorious satirical novel, of no great literary merit, but it served the authorʼs purpose to expose the inner life, the arrogance, and the despotism of the friars in their relations with the natives. On his return to the Islands, a year after the publication of this work, we met at the house of a mutual friend and conversed on the subject of “Noli me tángere,” a copy of which he lent to me.
