But to complete the picture of peace some finishing-strokes were yet needful. Antique Province was still in arms, and a native commission composed of Pablo Araneta, Father Silvestre Apura, Father Práxedes Magálon, Victorino Mapa, Cornelio Melliza, and Martin Delgado proceeded there, and succeeded in concluding peace for the Americans at the end of February, 1901.
The Visayan chief who defied the American invader was no stout patriot who leaves his plough to fight for cherished liberty, and cheerfully returns to it when the struggle ends. The leaders of the little Panay army and their civilian colleagues had to be compensated for their acceptance of American rule. Aguinaldo was captured during the month following the Peace of Panay; the war was coming to an end, and Governor W. H. Taft made his provincial tour to inaugurate civil government in the pacified Islands. Martin T. Delgado, the very man who had inflicted such calamities upon the Yloilo people, was appointed, on April 11, to be their first provincial Civil Governor at a salary of $3,000 gold per annum, and held that office until March, 1904. Jovito Yusay was given the provincial government secretaryship with a yearly stipend of $1,800 gold; Pablo Araneta was rewarded with the post of President of the Board of Health at an annual salary of $1,500 gold, and Victorino Mapa was appointed a judge of the Supreme Court with an annual emolument of $7,000 gold. In March, 1904, Raymundo Melliza, ex-president of the native civil government, already referred to as the advocate of social order, succeeded Delgado in the civil government of the Yloilo province by popular vote.
Yloilo, formerly the second port of the Philippines, is situated on the right bank of the creek. From the creek point to the square are sheds used for sugar-storing, with, here and there, a commercial or government office between. The most modern thoroughfares are traced with regularity, and there are many good houses. In the square is the church, which at a distance might be mistaken for a sugar-store, the ruins of the Town Hall, the convent, and a few small, fairly well-built houses of stone and wood, whilst all one side was once covered by a fine new block of buildings of brick, stone and wood, with iron roofs.
The Calle Real or High Street is a winding road, which leads through the town into the country. The houses are indescribable—they are of all styles. Without any pretence at architectural adornment, some are high, others low; some stand back with several feet of pavement before them, others come forward and oblige one to walk in the road. Here and there is a gap, then a row of dingy hovels. This is the retail trading-quarter and the centre for the Chinese. Going from the square the creek runs along at the back of the right-hand-side houses; turning off by the left-hand-side thoroughfares, which cannot be called streets, there is a number of roughly-built houses and a few good ones dispersed in all directions, with vacant, neglected plots between. At the extreme end of the Calle Real is the Government House, built of wood and stone, of good style and in a fair condition, with quite the appearance of an official residence. Before it is a semicircular garden, and in front of this there is a round fenced-in plot, in the middle of which stands a flag-staff. Just past the Government House there is a bridge crossing the Jaro River, which empties itself into the creek of Yloilo, and this creek is connected with that of Otong.[7]
Yloilo lies low, and is always hot. Quite one-third of the shipping and wholesale business quarter stands on land reclaimed from the swamp by filling up with earth and rubble. The opposite side of the creek, facing the shipping-quarter, is a low marshy waste, occasionally converted into a swamp at certain tides. The creek forms the harbour of Yloilo, which is just as Nature made it, except that there is a roughly-constructed quayway on the left-hand shore on entering. Only vessels of light draft can enter; large vessels anchor in the roadstead, which is the channel between Yloilo harbour and Guimarás Island.
The general aspect of Yloilo and its environs is most depressing. In Spanish times no public conveyances were to be seen plying for hire in the streets, and there is still no public place of amusement. The Municipality was first established by Royal Order dated June 7, 1889.
Evidences of the havoc of 1899 are still visible at every turn in Yloilo in the shape of old stone walls, charred remains, battered houses, vacant spaces, etc. On the other hand, there are many innovations since American administration superseded the native civil government. The plaza, till then a dreary open space, is now a pleasant shady promenade; electric lighting, an ice-factory, four hotels, one American, one English, and three Philippine clubs, large public schools, an improved quayway, a commodious Custom-house, a great increase of harbour traffic, a superabundance of lawyersʼ and pawnbrokersʼ sign-boards, and public vehicles plying for hire are among the novelties which strike one who knew Yloilo in days gone by. The Press is poorly represented by three daily and one weekly newspapers. Taken as a whole Yloilo still remains one of the most charmless spots in the Archipelago.
The people of Negros Island were in the free enjoyment of local independence since November 6, 1898, the day on which the Spanish Governor, D. Isidro Castro y Cinceros, together with all his official colleagues, capitulated to the revolutionists under the leadership of Aniceto Lacson, Leandro Lacson, Juan Araneta, Nicolás Gales, Simon Lizares, Julio Diaz, and José Montilla. Simultaneously with the prosecution of the Panay Island campaign General Miller opened negotiations for the submission of Negros Island to American sovereignty. At that time the government of the Island was being peacefully administered to the satisfaction of the Negros revolutionists, at least, under the constitution proclaimed by them, and presided over by their ex-commander-in-chief, Aniceto Lacson.[8] General Miller therefore commissioned two Filipinos, Esteban de la Rama and Pedro Regalado,[9] to proceed to Negros and negotiate terms of surrender to the Americans. For the moment nothing further was demanded than a recognition of American supremacy, and it was not proposed to subvert their local organization or depose their president. Aniceto Lacson accepted these terms, and General Miller formally appointed him Governor of the Island in March, 1899. It is evident, therefore, that no union existed between the local government of Negros and Aguinaldoʼs Republic in Luzon. In fact, when the Tagálog fighting-men, who were everywhere defeated in Panay, made their escape to Negros and raised the cry of insurrection against the Americans, Lacson was constrained to appeal to General Miller to send over troops to quell the movement. Thereupon Colonel Smith was deputed to take troops over to Negros to pursue the common enemy, whilst, in perfect accord with the native governor Lacson, he acted as military governor of the Island. The great cordillera which runs through the centre of the Island from north to south forms a sort of natural barrier between the people of Occidental and Oriental Negros. There are trails, but there are no transversal highroads from one coast to the other, and the inhabitants on each side live as separated in their interests, and, to a certain degree, in their habits, as though they were living in different islands. The people on the eastern side have always strongly opposed anything approaching governmental cohesion with the other side. Moreover, for many years past, the south-eastern district of Negros Island has been affected by sporadic apparitions of riotous religious monomaniacs called Santones (vide p. [189]). These conditions, therefore, favoured the nefarious work of the cunning Tagálog and Panay refugees, who found plenty of plastic material in the Negros inhabitants for the fruitful dissemination of the wildest and most fantastic notions anent the horrors awaiting them in the new Anglo-Saxon domination. They found no sympathy with the native government of Occidental Negros, which was as much their enemy as the American troops sent to pursue them, but they entertained the hope that by raising riot in Negros they would draw off troops from Panay, and so favour the movement in that Island. Armed groups rose everywhere against the Americans and the established government. In the south-east the notorious Papa Isio appeared as a Santon, preached idolatry, and drew to his standard a large band of ruffians as skilled as himself in villainous devices. Insurgency, in the true sense of the word, did not exist in Negros; opposition to the American domination was merely a pretext to harass, plunder, and extort funds from the planters and property-owners. The disaffected people increased so largely in numbers that Colonel Smith was obliged to call for reinforcements, and the disturbances only came to an end when it was known that the Panay people had formally laid down their arms in February, 1901. Shortly afterwards Governor W. H. Taft visited Negros Island; the quasi-autonomous government of that region was modified in conformity with the general plan of provincial civil governments, and on August 9, 1901, Leandro Locsin (Ylongo by birth) succeeded to the civil governorship, with a salary of $2,500 gold, by popular vote.