A Visit to the Philippine Islands

by John Bowring

They are fond of religious dramas, especially of one in Tagál representing the passion and death of Christ; but these religious representations and gatherings give rise to scandal and abuse, and the birth of many illegitimate children. The priests have generally prohibited these exhibitions at night, and sometimes disperse them, whip in hand; at other times the singers are denounced, and get flogged for their pains—or pleasures.

It is amusing to read the contradictory opinions of the friars respecting their flocks. One says:—“Their confessions are false; they never own to any but three sins: first, that they have neglected church-going; second, that they eat meat during Lent; and third, that they have sworn profanely.” Another reports—“No Spaniard can be more devout and fervid than the Indians of Manila in their confessions. They obey the instructions they receive, and I have the same good account from many padres of many Indians in the provinces.” No doubt the ecclesiastical statistics would be curious, if obtainable. In Lilio, the curate reports that of 1,300 persons paying tribute in 1840, 600 never confessed, and “this pueblo is not of the most remiss.” In Vigan, of 30,000 inhabitants, the attendance at church did not exceed from 500 to 800 (De Mas), except on the yearly festival of the Virgin, patroness of the pueblo. Father Agustin’s indignation is vehemently expressed as regards confession:—“The infernal Macchiavel Satan has taught them a policy as good for their bodies as bad for their souls, which is that they own their errors and crimes to one another, and conceal them, however excessive, from the spiritual father, from the Spanish alcalde, notwithstanding their personal quarrels, and, as they call them, murder-enmities; so that there is among them no greater offence than to tell the padre or the alcalde what has happened in the pueblo, which they say is mabibig, the most abominable of sins; indeed, the only offence which they hold to be sin.”

The friars speak in general more favourably of the women than of the men. They are more devout, more submissive, more willing to listen to their ghostly fathers, one of whom says:—“Did all mankind hang upon a single peg, and that peg were wanted by an Indian for his hat, he would sacrifice all mankind. They have no fear of death, but this is an infinite mercy of the Divine Being, who knows how fragile they are; they talk about death, even in the presence of the dying, without any concern. If condemned to the scaffold, they exhibit equal indifference, and smoke their cigar with wonted tranquillity. Their answer to the attendant priest is invariably, ‘I know I am going to die. I cannot help it. I have been wicked—it was the will of God,—it was my fate,’ But the approach of death neither interferes with their sleep nor their meals.” “The tree must bear its fruit,” he continues. “God in his wisdom has made many races of men, as He has made many varieties of flowers, and at last I reconciled myself to seeing the Indians do everything differently from what we should do, and keeping this in view, I could mould them like wax to my purpose.”

As a general result I have not found among these Indian races any one distinguished for intellectual superiority. A few were not backward in their knowledge of the mechanical arts; one or two examples there were of genius as sculptors; a universal love and devotion to the musical art, and some appreciation even of the merits of European composers; but, it must be added, little or nothing is done to develop such capacities as the Indians possess; the field of public instruction is narrowed alike by religious and official influences, and the social tone of the opulent classes, to which alone the Indian can look up, is greatly below that of the Spanish peninsula. Literature is little cultivated: the public newspapers are more occupied with the lives of saints, and preparation for, or accounts of, religious fiestas, than with the most stirring events of the political world. The Spaniards have never been celebrated for very busy inquiries, or very active virtues; but it is to be hoped that the mañana, to which everything is referred, will at last become an hoy dia.

It has been said of the Indian that he is more of a quadruped than a biped. His hands are large, and the toes of his feet pliant, being exercised in climbing trees, and divers other active functions. He is almost amphibious, passing much of his time in the water. He is insensible alike to the burning sun and the drenching rain. The impressions made upon him are transitory, and he retains a feeble memory of passing or past events. Ask him his age, he will not be able to answer: who were his ancestors? he neither knows nor cares. He receives no favours and cannot, therefore, be ungrateful; has little ambition, and therefore little disquiet; few wants, and hence is neither jealous nor envious; does not concern himself with the affairs of his neighbour, nor indeed does he pay much regard to his own. His master vice is idleness, which is his felicity. The labour that necessity demands he gives grudgingly. His health is generally good, and when deranged he satisfies himself with the use of herbs, of whose astringent or laxative powers he has had experience. He uses no soap to wash, no razor to shave; the river is his bathing-place, and he pulls out the hairs in his face with the assistance of a sharp shell; he wants no clock to tell him of the flight of time—no table, nor chairs, nor plates, nor cutlery, to assist him at his meals; a hacha, or large knife, and bag are generally hung at his waist; he thinks no music equal to the crowing of his cock, and holds a shoe to be as superfluous as a glove or a neck-collar.

I certainly have not discovered among the Indians that enduring “à tout jamais” horror of foreigners upon which M. Mallat dwells, and which he represents as specially and properly directed against Englishmen. On the contrary, I found many Englishmen settled in the Philippines objects of great confidence and affection; and I have heard mestizos and Indians say that they put greater trust in English commercial probity than in that of any other nation. I have witnessed the cordiality with which the old Spanish proverb, “Paz con Ynglaterra y con todo el mundo guerra,” has been quoted in large assemblies of the Filipinos. And assuredly there is no nation which has contributed more than England to the prosperity of the Spanish archipelago. Evidence enough will be found in the course of this narrative of the kindness shown to Englishmen.

It has been said that the Spaniards have very discreetly and successfully used the “divide et impera” among the Indian races as a means of preserving their own authority. There is little sympathy, it is true, between the remoter races; but that their separation and aberration form a part of the Spanish policy may be disproved by the fact that in Binondo nearly one-third of the resident inhabitants are Indians from distant provinces.

The numerical power of the Spaniards is small, that of the armed natives great, were there among them a disposition to rebel against their rulers: I believe there is little of such disposition. Lately the Tagál soldiers have been called into active service in a foreign country (Cochin China), and involved in a quarrel where the Spanish interest is not very discernible. No complaints have been made of their conduct, though they have been exposed to much privation.

There is a pretty custom among the peasantry of the interior. Little bamboo frames are seen either supported by a post, or projecting from a window of the choza, on which is to be found, covered with plantain leaves, a supply of food, or fruits, provided from the Indian’s garden, which invariably surrounds his dwelling. Any passing traveller supplies himself, paying nothing if he be poor, but otherwise leaving such compensation as he may deem proper. No sort of reproach attaches to the person who, without the means of payment, partakes of the proffered bounty. These hospitable receptacles are most common in the least peopled localities, and reminded me of the water and the lamp which I have found in the tombs of sainted Mussulmans, who had themselves discharged, or required their followers thus to discharge, the claims of humanity, and in the arid desert provided these grateful, silent, and touching welcomes to the thirsty and weary traveller.

The tact or talent of imitation is strong among the Indians, and facilitated the efforts of the friars, but very various and contradictory reports are found of their aptitudes. Those of Pampanga, Cagayan, Pangasinan, Ilocos, and Zebu are reported to be valiant, generous, laborious, and frequently exhibiting artistical taste. I found the love and the practice of music universal, and saw some remarkable specimens of sculptural ability, but of painting nothing Indian was ever presented to my attention, and the examples of persevering dedication to any sort of labour were few indeed. As servants, the Tagáls are in all respects inferior to the Chinese; as soldiers, the officers generally reported of them favourably. The Indians settled in Manila are said to be the worst of their races: no doubt great cities are the recipients of the dregs of a people, but they attract at the same time the highest order of merit. The courtesies which we received as their guests seemed boundless; no effort too great to do us honour: something, indeed much, could not but be attributed to the guidance of the priests and the presence of the authorities, but there were a thousand marks of spontaneous kindness, such as no external influence could have commanded.