About 2:00 P.M. over 40,000 natives, soldiers (including jack-tars from Dewey’s fleet, Spaniards and Americans) and foreign residents had assembled around this bandstand to hear the Address of Welcome and to witness the sports. When the speaker arose to deliver the address, for which he was afterward voted, and presented with, a medal by the Eight Army Corps, he said in part (verbatim report):
“On behalf of these committeemen who have spared no efforts to make these Field Day Exercises a success, and this occasion one long to be remembered by those who have assembled here this afternoon, I bid you, one and all—officers, soldiers, sailors and civilians of every nationality—a hearty welcome.”
“Again to you, the members of Admiral Dewey’s fleet, I feel obligated to extend a separate and special welcome; for without your chivalrous devotion to duty last May Day, yon shell-riven wrecks (part of unraised Spanish fleet visible above the bay) would not bespeak the down-fall of a sister nation, and we ourselves would not have been permitted to assemble here this afternoon. There is no braver man on land or sea than the American marine; and on behalf of the entire American army of occupation, I bid you a most cordial welcome.”
Touching upon the question of territorial expansion, the speaker said:
“This was a war for humanity, not for conquest. But simply because it suddenly closed and left us in possession of large tracts of new territory, is no reason why these spoils of war should be given up. I hold this to be true Americanism: that wherever the old flag is established through sacrifice of American blood, whether it be on the barren sands of the desert, at the frigid extremes of the earth, or on the rich and fertile islands of the sea, there is should remain triumphant, shedding forth beams of liberty to the oppressed, shouts of defiance to the oppressor, and furnish protection and enlightenment to all who come beneath its streaming folds forever!” (applause).
A chubby Filipino maiden, standing near the speaker’s stand, and who had listened intently to every word of the address, because she now understood the English tongue, quietly elbowed her way through the dense crowd which was gradually becoming more compressed, until she reached a car drawn by two Chinese ponies on the old street car line running south from Manila to Fort Malate and back. Taking the car she rode up town to the Escolta. Going into the postoffice, she hastily wrote and mailed to Aguinaldo at Malolos a letter containing an account of what was said. It follows:
“Manila, P. I., Jan. 1, 1899.
My Dear General:
Those wretched Americans are holding some kind of exercises on the Luneta this afternoon. I heard one of the speeches. It was awful bad. The fellow talked loud. He swung his hands in the air and the crowd seemed to get terribly excited over what he was saying.
He told about that treaty of peace, and he said no power under the sun would haul down the American flag from over Manila.