See page [212].
The executioner, in a derby hat, black coat, white breeches, and no shoes, took his position behind the post at one side of the scaffold, and the first victim was carried up out of the cart and seated on the narrow bench. He was too weak to help himself or make resistance; the black cloak was thrown over his shoulders, a rope tied around his waist, the hood drawn down over his face, and the collar sprung around his neck. Then, while two priests, with uncovered heads, held their crucifixes up before him, and sprinkled holy water over the hood and long, black death-robes, the chief prison official waved his sword, the executioner gave the big screw-handle a sudden twist till his arms crossed, and without a motion of any sort, except a slight forward movement of the naked feet, the first of the condemned men had solved the great problem.
The second poor wretch all the while cowered in the little cart, but when his turn came he ascended the steps with more fortitude. After he had put on the long black gown and hood, he seated himself on the bench at the second post and the same process was repeated. But the screw-thread seemed to be rusty, and one of the native officials helped the executioner give the handle an additional turn, for which he was promptly fined $20. The doctor tarried a few moments on the scaffold, the priests read several prayers and shook holy water over the immovable black-robed figures wedded to the posts, and then, after one of the acolytes had nearly set fire to the flowing gown of the head padre with his long candle, everyone descended.
The remnants of the procession returned to the prison, the troops stationed themselves in a large hollow square around the scaffold, and two dark, motionless figures locked to two posts were left in the hot sun till noon, set out against the blue background of sky and clouds.
The crowds began to disperse, the young girls chatted and joked with each other, the curious were satisfied, and the bamboo-trees were left to lift their heads at leisure.
Thus began Manila’s Fourth of July, and curiously enough, my watch stopped and the cord-pull to my instantaneous camera broke just as the screw was turned on the first man to be executed.
XI
Lottery Chances and Mischances—An American Cigarette-Making Machine and its Fate—Closing up Business—How the Foreigner Feels Toward Life in Manila—Why the English and Germans Return—Restlessness among the Natives—Their Persecution—Departure and Farewell.
August 25th.