And so "the priests must go," they said, and have no choice except that of deportation or execution. In few words, if they did not go away they would be killed. When close and urgent inquiry was made, the native priests were not included in the application of this rule. The Spanish priests were particularly singled out for vengeance, and with them such others as had been "false to the people" and treacherous in their relations to political affairs.
The number to be exiled or executed was stated at 3,000. The priests are panicky about this feeling of the natives, as is in evidence in their solicitude to get away. They at least have no hope of security if the Spaniards should regain the mastery of the islands. Two hundred and fifty of them in vain sought to get passage to Hongkong in one boat. I was informed on authority that was unquestionable that the eviction or extermination of the Spanish priests was one of the inevitable results of Filipine independence—the first thing to be done.
It was with three objects in view that I had an interview with General Aguinaldo: (1) To ascertain exactly as possible his feeling and policy toward the United States and its assertion of military authority; (2) to inquire about his position touching the priests, (3) and to urge him to be at pains to be represented not only at Washington, but at Paris. As regards the latter point, it was clear that the people of the Philippines, whatever they might be, ought to be represented before the Paris conference. No matter what their case was, it should be personally presented, even if the representatives were witnesses against rather than for themselves. In the interest of fair play and the general truth the Philippine population should put in an appearance at the seat of the government of the United States for the information of the President, and at the scene of the conference to testify; and I was sure it would appear in all cases that they were at least better capable of governing themselves than the Spaniards to govern them. There could be no form of government quite so bad as that of the fatal colonial system of Spain, as illustrated in the Philippines and in the Americas.
General Aguinaldo was neither remote nor inaccessible. His headquarters were in an Indian village, just across the bay, named Bacoor, and in less than an hour a swift steam launch carried Major Bell, of the bureau of information, a gallant and most industrious and energetic officer, and myself, to water so shallow that we had to call canoes to land in front of a church that before the days of Dewey was riddled by the fire of Spanish warships because occupied by insurgents. The walls and roof showed many perforations. The houses of the village were of bamboo, and there were many stands along the hot and dusty street on which fruit was displayed for sale.
The General's house was about as solid a structure as earthquakes permit, its roof of red tile instead of the usual straw. His rooms were in the second story, reached by a broad stairway, at the top of which was a landing of liberal dimensions and an ante-room. The General was announced at home and engaged in writing a letter to General Merritt—then his rather regular literary exercise. There were a dozen insurgent soldiers at the door, and as many more at the foot and head of the stairs, with several officers, all in military costume, the privates carrying Spanish Mausers and the officers wearing swords. We were admitted to an inner room, with a window opening on the street, and told the General would see us directly. Meanwhile well-dressed ladies of his family passed through the audience room from the General's office to the living rooms, giving a pleasant picture of domesticity.
The door from the study opened and a very slender and short young man entered with a preoccupied look that quickly became curious. An attendant said in a low voice, "General Aguinaldo." He was unexpectedly small—could weigh but little over 100 pounds—dressed in pure white, and his modesty of bearing would have become a maiden. The first feeling was a sort of faint compassion that one with such small physical resources should have to bear the weighty responsibilities resting upon him. Major Bell had often met him, and introduced me. The General was gratified that I had called, and waited for the declaration of my business. He had been informed of my occupation; the fact that I had recently been in Washington and expected soon to be there again; was from Ohio, the President's state, a friend of his, and had written a book on Cuba, a task which gave me, as I had visited the Island of Cuba during the war, an acquaintance with the Spanish system of governing colonies.
The interpreter was a man shorter than the General, but not quite so slight. His hair was intensely black and he wore glasses. He is an accomplished linguist, speaks English with facility and is acknowledged by the priests to be the equal of any of them in reading and speaking Latin. It is to be remarked that while Aguinaldo is not a man of high education he has as associates in his labors for Philippine independence a considerable number of scholarly men. It is related that in a recent discussion between a priest and an insurgent, the latter stated as a ground of rebellion that the Spaniards did nothing for the education of the people, and was asked, "Where did you get your education?" He had been taught by the Jesuits.
My first point in talking with Aguinaldo was that the people of the Philippines ought to be strongly represented in Paris, and of the reasons briefly presented, the foremost was that they sought independence, and should be heard before the commission by which their fate would be declared for the present, so far as it could be, by a tribunal whose work was subject to revision. The general's information was that the Paris conference would be opened September 15, an error of a fortnight, and his impression was that the terms regarding the Philippines would be speedily settled, so that there could not be time to send to Paris, but there had been a determination reached to have a man in Washington.
It is to be taken into account that this interview was before anything had been made known as to the mission which General Merritt undertook, and that in a few days he set forth to perform, and that the terms of the protocol had not been entirely published in Manila. I told the general it was not possible that the Philippine problem could speedily be solved, and made known to him that the transport China, which holds the record of quick passage on the Pacific, was to sail for San Francisco in three days, and he would do well to have his men for Washington and Paris go on her if permission could be obtained, as there was no doubt it could, and I mentioned the time required to reach Washington and Paris—that one could be on a trans-Atlantic steamer in New York six hours after leaving Washington, that the Philippine commissioners going to Paris should make it a point to see the President on the way, and the whole matter one of urgency, but it was certainly not too late to act.
The General said it had been thought a representative of the islands and of the cause of the people should go to Washington, but the man was in Hongkong. He could, however, be telegraphed, so that he could catch the China at Nagasaka, Japan, where she would have to stop two days to take coal. The Washington commissioner might go to Paris, but instructions could not reach him before he left Hongkong, as it would not be desirable to telegraph them. Upon this I stated if it suited his convenience and he would send instructions by me, I was going on the China, and would charge myself with the special confidential care of his dispatches and deliver them to the commissioner at the coaling station, when he should join the ship; and if it was the desire of the General to have it done I would telegraph the President that Philippine commissioners were on the way. These suggestions were received as if they were agreeable, and esteemed of value.