Admiral Patricio Montojo
Long before sunset Admiral Montojo and his surviving officers found their way to Manila.[5] In the evening the Admiral serenely passed the hours in his suburban villa, whilst the Americans were in possession of the Port of Manila, and the stars and stripes floated over the town and arsenal of Cavite, and the forts of Cañacao and Punta Sangley. So little did the people and the ignorant Spanish priests understand how a modern military occupation was conducted that when Commodore Dewey landed his marines a deputation of friars and nuns met him to humbly crave clemency for the vanquished. The entry of the American squadron, without opposition, into the Bay of Manila, was a great surprise to the inhabitants of the capital. Whilst the women and children were driven off to the suburbs of the city and near-lying villages, male Spaniards, from the highest to the lowest—merchants, State dependents, Spanish troops, and even those native auxiliaries who still remained loyal hastened to assure the Gov.-General that “the enemy should not land in Manila without passing over their dead bodies.” Subsequent facts, however, proved these pompous vows to be merely a figure of speech. From the city walls, the terraces of houses, the church towers, and every available height, thousands of curious sightseers witnessed the brave defence and the complete defeat of the Spaniards. As the American fleet advanced in line of battle a Spanish transport was scuttled at the mouth of the Pasig River to bar the entrance. All the small steamers and sailing-craft in the river moved up as near as possible to the Puente de España. The obsolete guns on the Luneta battlement fired a few solitary shots without the least effect; the Fort of Santiago, defending the Pasig River entrance, was almost silent, although guns, said to be over a century old, had been hastily mounted there, notwithstanding the fact that the colonel, who was instructed to have the rust chipped off these ancient pieces of artillery, committed suicide in despair. Not a single torpedo had been brought into action by the Spaniards. There were several in stock at Cavite Arsenal, but, when wanted, each had an important piece missing, so they were unserviceable. About 4.30 p.m. the American ships changed their position, and moved towards Manila City. A formal demand was made on the Gov.-General Augusti to surrender the capital. The British Consul, who had received instructions to look after American interests pending hostilities, served as the medium of communication between the representatives of the conflicting parties. The Consuls had an interview with the Captain-General, who, after a brief consultation with his colleagues, gave the customary Spanish reply to the effect that he would resist to the last drop of blood in his veins. Frequent intercourse took place between the Spanish Gov.-General and the American Commodore through the intermediary of the British Consul. The same afternoon another British, another French, and another German man-of-war entered the Bay. Rear-Admiral Dewey (for he had just been promoted in rank) declared the port blockaded.
General Basilio Augusti
On May 2 he demanded to be put in possession of the telegraph-station, and on this being refused he ordered the cable connecting Luzon with Hong-Kong to be cut. The Spanish authorities had just time before this measure was taken to report the bare facts to Madrid by cable. The news produced immense consternation in the Spanish capital. The whole city was instantly in uproar. Mobs of people filled the streets, wildly denouncing the incapability of a Government which could lead them to such disaster. The newspaper offices were thronged. Special supplements were issued as quickly as possible. The cafés, clubs, and other public meeting-places were besieged. General Borbon drove out in a carriage from which he harangued the populace, and was, in consequence, sent to a fortress for three months. There was an attempt at holding a mass meeting in the Puerta del Sol, but the surging crowd started down the Calle de Sevilla and the Carrera de San Gerónimo shouting, “Long live Weyler!” “To the house of Weyler!” They reached his residence, and after a series of frantic vivas for the army, navy, etc., they called on General Weyler to appear at the balcony. But being himself in somewhat strained relations with the existing Government, he did not think it prudent to show himself. Then some one having set up the cry of “Down with the whole Government!” which was responded to with frenzied applause, the rioters set out for Sagastaʼs house, returning by the Carrera de San Gerónimo. At that moment the mounted civil guard met and charged the crowd. Many were trodden under foot, and arrests were made. The Civil Governor, Señor Aguilera, followed up in his carriage, and when the military police had dispersed the general mass, leaving only here and there a group, the Civil Governor stepped out of his carriage and addressed them. His words were hissed from the balcony of a club, and it was already past midnight when the first outburst of public indignation and despair had exhausted itself. On May 2 the Heraldo of Madrid, calmly reviewing the naval disaster, commented as follows:—
It was no caprice of the fortune of war. From the very first cannon-shot our fragile ships were at the mercy of the formidable hostile squadron; were condemned to fall one after the other under the fire of the American batteries; they were powerless to strike, and were defended only by the valour and breasts of their sailors. What has been gained by the illusion that Manila was fortified? What has been gained by the intimation that the broad and beautiful bay on whose bosom the Spanish Fleet perished yesterday had been rendered inaccessible? What use was made of the famous Island of Corregidor? What was done with its guns? Where were the torpedoes? Where were those defensive preparations concerning which we were requested to keep silence?
Archbishop Bernardino Nozaleda
Several merchant vessels were seized in and about Manila Bay, and supplies from seawards were cut off from the city, which was quite at the mercy of Admiral Dewey, who could have bombarded it and forced surrender the same day. But it was not easy to foresee what might follow. Admiral Dewey had full discretion to act as circumstances might seem to guide him, but it was evident that whatever the surrender of the Captain-General of the Archipelago might theoretically imply, a military occupation of Manila was far from being tantamount to possession of the Islands. Hemmed in everywhere on land by the insurgent forces which now occupied and collected taxes in several Luzon provinces, the Spaniards could have been shelled out of the capital and forced to capitulate, or driven to extermination by the thousands of armed natives thirsting for their blood. The Americans had, consequently, a third party to consider. The nativesʼ anxiety to oust the Spaniards was far stronger than their wish to be under American, or indeed any foreign, control. But whilst a certain section of the common people was perfectly indifferent about such matters, others, wavering at the critical moment between their opposition to the Spaniards and repulsion of the foreign invader, whoever he might be, proclaimed their intention to cast in their lot with the former. Lastly, there was Aguinaldoʼs old rebel party, which rallied to the one cry “Independence.” “Nothing succeeds like success,” and if the rebel version of the alleged Treaty of Biac-na-bató had been fulfilled in the spirit, no doubt Aguinaldo would have been unanimously revered as a great reformer. But the relinquishment of the strife by the leaders, the money transaction, and the immediate renewal of Spanish severities, together created an impression in the minds of the rebel rank-and-file that, in some way, their general welfare had been sacrificed to personal interest. It was doubtful, therefore, how Aguinaldo would be received on his return to the Islands. With the object of investigating the feelings of the old rebel party, the leader José Alejandrino and two other rebels accompanied the American expedition to Cavite, where they disembarked. Several days passed in convincing the rebels of Aguinaldoʼs good faith in all that had occurred, and in the meantime Aguinaldo himself arrived on May 19 with 12 other rebel leaders in the American despatch-boat Hugh McCulloch. It yet remained doubtful whether he still held the confidence of the rank-and-file; but when he at length landed at Cavite, his old companions-in-arms, and many more, rallied to his standard with the greatest enthusiasm. The rebels at that date were computed to number 30,000, and Aguinaldo, on taking the command, declared himself Dictator. Aguinaldo was, naturally, at that period, on the most amicable terms with Admiral Dewey, who allowed him to have two modern field-pieces, 500 rifles, and 200,000 rounds of ammunition, enjoining on him the strict observance of his engagement to repress reprisals against the Spaniards.
To prepare the natives for the arrival of the Americans, Emilio Aguinaldo sent over in advance of the American Fleet the following exhortation:—