Adventures in the Philippine Islands

by Paul P. de La Gironière

The news of the accouchement of my wife brought a very numerous party of friends and relations to my house, where they waited for the baptism, which took place in my drawing-room. Anna, then almost thoroughly well, was present on the occasion: my son was named Henry, after his uncle. At this time I was happy; Oh, so truly happy! for my wishes were nearly gratified. There was but one not so—and that was to see again my aged mother and my sisters; but I hoped that the time was not far distant when I should realise the project of revisiting my native country. My farming speculation was most prosperous: my receipts were every year on the increase; my fields were covered with the richest crops of sugar-canes, to the cultivation of which, and of rice, I had joined that of coffee. My brother had taken upon himself the management of a very large plantation, which promised the most brilliant results; and appeared likely to secure the premium which the Spanish government had promised to give to the proprietor of a plantation of eighty thousand feet of coffee in product. But, alas! the period of my happiness had passed away, and what pain and what grief was I not doomed to suffer before I again saw my native country.

My brother—my poor Henry—committed some imprudences, and was suddenly attacked with an intermittent fever, which in a few days carried him off.

My Anna and I shed abundance of tears, for we both loved Henry with the warmest affection. For several years we had lived together; he participated in all our labours, our troubles, and our pleasures. He was the only relative I had in the Philippines. He had left France, where he had filled an honourable position, with the sole object of coming to see me, and of aiding me in the great task which I had undertaken. His amiable qualities and his excellent heart had endeared him to us: his loss was irreparable, and the thought that I had no longer a brother added poignancy to my bitter grief. Prudent, the youngest, had died at Madagascar; Robert, the next to me, died at La Planche, near Nantes, in the little dwelling where we spent our childhood; and my poor Henry at Jala-Jala. I erected a simple tomb for him near the door of the church, and for several months Jala-Jala was a place of grief and mourning.

We had scarcely begun, not indeed to console ourselves, but rather to bear with resignation the loss we had experienced, when a new dispensation of fate came to strike me to the earth.

On my arrival in the Philippines, and while I resided at Cavite, I formed a close connection with Malvilain, a native of St. Malo, and mate of a ship from that port. During several years which he spent at Cavite our friendship was most intimate. A day seldom passed that we did not see each other, and two days never, for we were much attached. Our two ships were at anchor in the port, not far one from the other. One day as I was walking on deck, waiting for a boat to take me on board Malvilain’s ship, I saw his crew at work in regulating one of the masts, when a rope suddenly snapped, and the mast fell with a frightful crash on the deck, in the midst of the men, amongst whom Malvilain was standing. From the deck of my own ship I beheld all that passed on that of my friend, who I thought was killed or wounded. My feelings were worked to the highest pitch of anguish and alarm; I could not control myself; I jumped into the water and swam to his ship, where I had the pleasure of finding him uninjured, although considerably stunned by the danger from which he had escaped. Wet as I was from my sea-bath I caught him in my arms, and pressed him to my heart; and then hastened to afford relief to some of the crew, who had not been so fortunate to escape without injury as he had been.

Another time I was the cause of serious alarm to Malvilain. One day, a mass of black and thick clouds was gathered close over the point of Cavite, and a frightful—that is, a tropical—storm burst. The claps of thunder followed each other from minute to minute, and before each clap the lightning, in long serpent-like lines of fire, darted from the clouds, and drove on to the point of Cavite, where it tore up the ground of the little plain situate at the extremity, and near which the ships were moored. Notwithstanding the storm I was going to see Malvilain, and was almost in the act of placing my foot on the deck of his vessel, when the lightning fell into the sea so near to me that I lost my breath. Instantly I felt an acute pain in the back, as if a burning torch had been laid between my shoulders. The pain was so violent, that the moment I recovered myself I uttered a sharp scream. Malvilain, who was within a few paces of me, felt very sensibly the electric shock which had struck me, and, on hearing my cry, imagined that I was dangerously hurt. He rushed towards me and held me in his arms until I was able to give every assurance of my recovery. The electric fluid had grazed me, but without causing any positive injury.

I have related these two slight anecdotes to show the intimacy that subsisted between us, and how I afterwards suffered in my dearest affections.

My existence has to this day, when I write these lines, been filled with such extraordinary facts, that I have been naturally led to believe that the destiny of man is regulated by an order of things which must infallibly be accomplished. This idea has had great influence over me, and taught me to endure all the evils which have afflicted me. Was it, then, my destiny which bound me to Malvilain, and bound him to me in the same manner? I have no doubt of it.

Some days before the terrible scourge of the cholera broke out in the Philippines, Malvilain’s ship set sail for France. With hearts oppressed with grief we separated, after promising each that we should meet again; but, alas! fate had ordained it otherwise. Malvilain returned home, went to Nantes to take the command of a ship, and there became acquainted with my eldest sister, and married her. This news, which reached me while I resided in Manilla, gave me the greatest satisfaction, for if I had had to choose a husband for my dear sister Emilie, this marriage was the only one to satisfy the wishes I had formed for the happiness of both.

After his marriage Malvilain continued to sail from the port of Nantes. His noble disposition and his accurate knowledge of his duties caused him to be highly esteemed by the leading merchants. His affairs were in a state sufficiently good as not to require him to expose himself longer to the dangers of the sea, and he was on his last voyage, when, at the Mauritius, he was attacked by an illness, which carried him off, leaving my sister inconsolable, and with three very young girls to lament him.