In a few days I reached Nantes, where for some time I enjoyed, in every respect, all the happiness which one feels when those beloved beings from whom one had been long severed, and who formed the last living ties of affection for an unhappy being who had been severely tried by a capricious destiny. But the want of excitement in which I lived soon became irksome; my life had been too active, so that the sudden transition could not fail to prove injurious to my health, and the idea of submitting during the remainder of my existence to a life sterile and monotonous became intolerable. Not knowing how to employ myself, I resolved to travel through Europe, and to study the civilised world, which was then so strange to me. I travelled through France, England, Belgium, Spain, and Italy, and returned to my family, without being able to discover anything that could induce me to forget my Indians, Jala-Jala, and my solitary excursions in the virgin forests. The society of men reared in extreme civilisation could not efface from my memory my past modest life. Notwithstanding all my efforts, I retained in my heart a fund of sadness, which it was not possible to conceal. My kind-hearted mother, who with deep regret observed my repugnance to establish myself in any part of the country, and who entertained fears, perhaps well-founded ones, that I should yet endeavour to go back to the Philippines, used every means to prevent me. She spoke to me of marriage, and in all her letters repeated that she should not be happy until I agreed to enter into the ties of a new union: she said my name would otherwise become extinct, and, as her last consolation, she asked me to allow her to choose a companion for me.
The wish to satisfy her, and also the remembrance of Anna’s last words: “Return to thy country, and marry one of thy countrywomen,” decided my resolution.
I soon made choice of one, who would have fully rendered a man happy who had not too frequently before him the remembrance of a previous union. Nevertheless, I was as happy as I could be. My new wife possessed every quality necessary for my happiness. By her I became father of two children, and I began to bless the determination which my mother had contributed so much to make me adopt; but, alas! happiness was never for me lasting; the cup of bitterness was not yet exhausted, and I had still to shed many tears.
In the cemetery of Vertoux, a modest tomb for thee, poor mother! is erected, between that of a husband and a son; and soon after another grave was opened at Neuilly. In profound affliction I had the following lines engraved on the latter:
“Veille, du haut des cieux, sur ta triste famille;
Conserve-moi ton fils et revis dans ta fille.”[2]
[1] Gratitude here requires that I should name some of those to whom I am specially indebted for marks of affection and kindness. It would be indeed ungrateful on my part to forget them, and I beg them to accept this proof of my recollections.
The Governors of the Philippines to whom I owe these remembrances are:—Generals Martinès, Ricafort, Torres Enrile, Camba, and Salazar; in the various administrations of the colony, the Judges (Oidorrs) Don Inigo Asaola, Otin-i Doazo, Don Matias Mier, Don Jacobo Varela, administrator-general of the liquors; Don José de la Fuente, commissary of the engineers, who rendered me innumerable kindnesses; Colonel Don Thomas de Murieta, corregidor of Tondoc; the colonel of engineers, Don Mariano Goicochea; the Colonel-Commandant Lante Romana; the Governor of the province, Don José Atienza; the brothers Ramos, sons of the judge; all the family Calderon; that of Seneris; Don Balthazar Mier, Don José Ascaraga; and lastly my friend, Don Domingo Roxas, whose son, Don Mariano Roxas, after having received a solid and brilliant education at Manilla, came to travel in Europe. He has acquired the most extensive information in the sciences and arts, and when he shall have returned to the Philippine Islands, he will most worthily replace his dignified father, whom a premature death has snatched away from the industry, the agriculture, and the advancement of his country. If gratitude has induced me to mention here the Spaniards from whom I experienced many acts of kindness, the same feeling compels me to allude to an English gentleman to whom I was indebted for one of those important services which are never to be forgotten. I allude to Mr. Thomas Dent, with whom I have frequently conversed upon our hunting parties at Jala-Jala, in which he was occasionally one of the principal actors.