[3] The Visayos, inhabiting the central group of the Archipelago, tattooed themselves; a cutaneous disease also disfigured the majority; hence for many years their islands were called by the Spaniards Islas de los pintados.
[4] Legaspi and Guido Lavezares, under oath, made promises of rewards to the Lacandola family and a remission of tribute in perpetuity, but they were not fulfilled. In the following century—year 1660—it appears that the descendants of the Rajah Lacandola still upheld the Spanish authority, and having become sorely impoverished thereby, the heir of the family petitioned the Governor (Sabiniano Manrique de Lara) to make good the honour of his first predecessors. Eventually the Lacandolas were exempted from the payment of tribute and poll-tax for ever, as recompense for the filching of their domains.
In 1884, when the fiscal reforms were introduced which abolished the tribute and established in lieu thereof a document of personal identity (cedula personal), for which a tax was levied, the last vestige of privilege disappeared.
Descendants of Lacandola are still to be met with in several villages near Manila. They do not seem to have materially profited by their transcendent ancestry—one of them I found serving as a waiter in a French restaurant in the capital in 1885.
Philippine Dependencies, Up To 1898
The Ladrones, Carolines and Pelew Islands
In 1521 Maghallanes cast anchor off the Ladrone Islands (situated between 17° and 20° N. lat. by 146° E. long.) on his way to the discovery of those Islands afterwards denominated the Philippines. This group was named by him Islas de las Velas.[1] Legaspi called them the Ladrones.[2] Subsequently several navigators sighted or touched at these Islands, and the indistinct demarcation which comprised them acquired the name of Saint Lazarusʼ Archipelago.
In 1662 the Spanish vessel San Damian, on her course from Mexico to Luzon, anchored here. On board was a missionary, Fray Diego Luis de San Victores, who was so impressed with the dejected condition of the natives, that on reaching Manila he made it his common theme of conversation. In fact, so importunately did he pursue the subject with his superiors that he had to be constrained to silence. In the following year the Governor, Diego Salcedo, replied to his urgent appeal for a mission there in terms which permitted no further solicitation in that quarter. But the friar was persistent in his project, and petitioned the Archbishopʼs aid. The prelate submitted the matter to King Philip IV., and the friar himself wrote to his father, who presented a memorial to His Majesty and another to the Queen beseeching her influence. Consequently in 1666 a Royal Decree was received in Manila sanctioning a mission to the Ladrones.
Fray Diego took his passage in the galleon San Diego, and having arrived safely in the Viceregal Court of Mexico, he pressed his views on the Viceroy, who declared that he had no orders. Then the priest appealed to the Viceroyʼs wife, who, it is said, was entreating her husbandʼs help on bended knee, when an earthquake occurred which considerably damaged the city. It was a manifestation from heaven, the wily priest avowed, and the Viceroy, yielding to the superstition of the age, complied with the friarʼs request.
Therefore, in March, 1668, Fray Diego started from Acapulco in charge of a Jesuit mission for the Ladrones, where they subsequently received a pension of ₱3,000 per annum from Queen Maria Ana, who, meanwhile, had become a widow and Regent. To commemorate this royal munificence, these Islands have since been called by the Spaniards “Islas Marianas,” although the older name—Ladrones—is better known to the world.