Injuries which the enemy committed during their flight
It is characteristic of cowards to affect courage when they meet no opposition or do not fear resistance; the enemy did not encounter this in the ranch of Antipolo, whither he went when he emerged from the mountains and hollows in which he had taken refuge from our attacks and the slaughter which he could not make among our troops. For the latter were marching accompanied by the governor, who was desirous of catching the enemy in the flat country that he might offer them battle there, when they would not be able to avail themselves of the ruggedness of the mountains or the depth of the ravines; the armies faced each other, now ready to come to blows, and the enemy were almost surrounded by our troops on all sides. Although without realizing how little they could depend upon their hands, they trusted to their feet; they now placed their main defense in flight, burning the village and church of Baras—valiant for only such acts of cowardice. Our men kept at the heels of the enemy, although it was one of the greatest hardships of this war to have to march so long through very rough roads amid the inclemencies of heat and rain. The insurgents pursued the route toward the village of Tamar, whither also our army proceeded, in order to compel them to give battle, or else to harass and disturb them by never allowing them opportunity to have any rest. Our men reached the flat top of a hill, and halted on the summit, without having any knowledge of the enemy—who were so near that even their voices could soon be heard. When our men perceived the enemy, and saw how few they were (for at that time they did not number two thousand), they began to surround the Sangleys in order to attack them; and the battle began with such fury that the enemy, in desperation, came close to the mouths of the Spanish arquebuses. Our men defended themselves valiantly, at little cost to themselves but with much loss to the enemy; since, although the battle began with great risk [to us] on account of their multitude, our weapons were well plied on both sides [of them]. When the enemy had attacked our position and would have gained the advantage, Don Rodrigo de Guillestegui arrived, whom the governor had sent with a company of horsemen and five hundred Indians, sounding the alarm to them through the rearguard. At the sound of the drums, and when the enemy saw themselves attacked on both sides, and knew that the rest of our army (which had been absent) was there, they already used their weapons with less spirit; and, their hopes of gaining the victory being dashed, they began to retreat, so as not to give it to our men—but with much loss of their own—and as they were in a place where the cavalry could range freely. The damage that they received was much greater [than what they inflicted], and was sufficient to enable those of their number who had more prudence to urge more strenuously, from that time on, negotiations for peace—of which they had begun to talk a few days before, but with little, if any, effect.
Garrisons are placed in the churches, and peace is discussed
When the governor saw the destruction that the enemy had wrought in the churches, and that he could not check it because the army that was fleeing always had the start of the other, he determined to put the churches in a condition of defense, and accordingly assigned to each one a number of soldiers who should confront the Sangleys—so that, since the people of the villages could not deliver themselves from the enemy’s fury, the temples and the dwellings of the religious, which were most important, might be saved. The governor also sent them word, threatening that he would put all the Sangleys that were left in the country to the sword, if they did any more damage to the villages or the churches, since it was a token of cowardice to wreak vengeance on him who was not to blame, or who made no resistance. They replied that they did no harm where they were not harmed, and that they would leave the villages in peace if the roads were left free to themselves by which they were intending to pass to Los Limbones, in order to build champans there to make ready for [their return to] China. This reply was less haughty than the tone of their earlier bravado. From that time they did not burn any church, although they burned the village of Santa Maria and that of Siniloan, with a visita of Pangil, because the Indians had been stationed there and many of the Sangleys slain. After this, they continued their march to Cainta, and the governor in pursuit of them to the post of Mahayhay—a place through which the enemy must necessarily pass if they would go to Los Limbones—in order to fight there with the enemy the battle which was impossible in the mountains which the enemy had selected for their encampment. Many from the enemy’s camp came every day to ours asking for mercy, alleging [that they had been coerced by] violent measures on the part of their leaders in the revolt. They readily found mercy, and with this and kind treatment they were sent back to Manila. The opinions of the rest were as vacillating as their courage, many of them lacking confidence in the governor. Thinking that they did not deserve pardon for their offences, they preferred to persist in these obstinately, rather than to yield to the governor’s mercy and surrender; and although there were embassies from one side to the other, this intercourse was carried on with little confidence on either side. On ours, negotiations for peace were carried on by a father of the Society of Jesus,[26] who was a minister to the Sangleys, and General Geronimo Enrriquez, their alcalde-mayor of the Parián, for whom they had the utmost affection; on their side, by some of their leaders, with the mandarin—although not with so much privilege,[27] on account of having been created for their purpose—the lieutenant-commander of the Sangley forces. He was a boastful and audacious man, who resisted the negotiations for peace, and had with his own hand killed several men because he was suspicious of their being concerned therein. But the father of the Society, anxious that peace should be secured, in order that the shedding of so much blood might be stopped—especially for the sake of the many Sangleys who were there more because they trusted others than to carry out their own purpose—laying aside any consideration of his own life, went many times, at the evident risk of death, to confer with the mandarin and the leaders, assuring them, on the part of the governor, of pardon and kind treatment to those who laid down their arms and surrendered themselves to him. He answered their complaints, the chief of these being that the governor had commanded that their comrades who were scattered through the provinces should be slain, when they had committed no offence. The answer was that the very people in their own camp who had been caught by our men had revealed that those others were accomplices in their guilt, and cognizant of the revolt; for they had confessed that it was general throughout the provinces. He said that there was therefore no wisdom in leaving some of the Sangleys free while we were fighting others in the field, since the former would take up arms against us at the first opportunity; and finally that they should avail themselves of the present opportunity, as being invited to make peace, and should not constrain the governor to an extreme demonstration of his anger, as that would result in the entire destruction of them all—as they themselves could see by the few who had been killed on our side, and the thousands that had fallen on theirs. Persuaded by these arguments, they undertook to hold another council and give an answer on the following day.
Peace is concluded, and both armies return to Manila
After thorough reflection, while those of our camp were waiting for the enemy to submit and give up their arms, the latter saw that the conditions demanded for making peace did not depend on him whose strength had been broken, but on him who was able to boast of his advantage and superiority; and how, if the negotiations for peace arose more from the needs of the case and from our strength than from mercy and compassion, the governor would have closed, as it were, the gates of mercy with the determination to destroy them, if he had not checked his anger, and given to the religious in whose hands was this affair time for endeavoring to convert them to a more prudent decision. Finally, they agreed that all should surrender themselves and give up their weapons. A place was appointed at a little distance from our camp, between which and theirs was a river; at its crossing stood our men in two ranks, before whom the Sangleys passed, laying down the weapons that they carried. As soon as all of them, some eight thousand in number, had reached their station, arrangements were made for their return to Manila, the governor charging the master-of-camp to set out with the two armies. This was done, and they marched until they arrived in the parade-ground at Bagumbayan, opposite the city, on the evening of Friday, March. 15. The governor arrived that same evening, and the two armies encamped there for the night. At dawn of the following day, the drums sounded for the march, which was conducted in this order. In the vanguard went Captain Juan Fiallo with the cavalry, to the sound of trumpets; next some companies of Pampango infantry, those of the Cagayan Indians, the Zambal archers, and the Indians who carried javelins and shields in the battalion. Next came all the Sangley forces, and in the rearguard the Spanish infantry, with the master-of-camp. The halberdiers of the governor followed, and in their midst was one on horseback, who carried as a standard the image of the blessed Christ from Antipolo, mounted on a staff. Last of all came the governor, accompanied by his suite, and by many volunteer horsemen who had gone to the war. In this order they proceeded along the causeway to the bridge over the river, and across it to Tondo; and there our troops left the Sangleys inside a stockade which they had built as a precaution, with soldiers guarding them on all sides. The governor went thence to his palace by water, and the master-of-camp marched with his soldiers to the city. The people received them with great joy at seeing the war ended, as it had caused them so much anxiety and lasted so long a time—for it began on November 20, 1639, and came to an end on March 15, 1640.