(A British magazine article of 1896, by John Foreman.)

At this crisis, when the development of Japan is attracting public attention, the following paragraph in a recent issue of the St. James Gazette would be highly instructive were it based on real facts. That journal says:—

“This revolt, in fact, is really a consequence, to some extent, of the rising power of Japan in Far Eastern waters. Having acquired Formosa and become ambitious of a territorial and commercial empire, the eyes of the Japanese have lately been eagerly directed towards the next islands to the south; and the weakness of Spain is regarded as the opportunity of Japan. But it is quite another matter whether the European powers will take the same view.”

Those who have been long resident in the Far East and are well informed on the subject do not take that view at all. From the facts which I am about to give regarding this rebellion it will be clearly seen that the above statement is merely a hypothetical conjecture.

A plot was formed, at the instance of rich Chinese half-breeds, to murder all the Europeans. The priests choose to call this secret society “freemasonry,” whilst the conspirators themselves style their body the “Katipunan,” which simply means the “League.” Each member, on being sworn in, made the “blood compact,” which consists of an incision in the arm or leg whence the blood was taken to inscribe the roll of brotherhood. The general massacre of whites was to have taken place on the night of the 20th of August last, but at almost the last hour a woman came to Father Mariano Gil, the parish priest of Tondo—a suburb of Manila—and paved the way for a repentant member of the League to make his full confession of the plot under a promise of immunity from punishment. The promise was given and the confession made. An hour afterwards the civil guard was on the track of the principal leaders of the movement. Three hundred known malcontents were arrested in a few hours in the capital and adjacent provinces of Bulacan and Pampanga and further arrests having since been effected daily, the Manila prisons are overcrowded with suspects and proved delinquents. Room for more is being made by the periodical shipping off of batches of prisoners to the Caroline Islands, Mindanao Island, Fernando Po, and other distant possessions. I have just learnt from the secretary of the military court that at this moment there are 4,377 individuals awaiting trial by court-martial. Many of the richest men in the colony, the leaders of Manila society, such as it is, figure amongst the promoters of this conspiracy. Pedro Rojas, a wealthy Chinese half-caste and popularly supposed to be the prime mover of the rebellion, accepted the hospitality of the Governor-General in his palace only forty-eight hours before the hour destined to witness the general massacre. The most curious fact—which no one dares to discuss in public—is that this man, denounced by all, was allowed to quietly leave the colony. He embarked in a steamer, ostensibly for Spain, but left it at Singapore and is supposed to be residing in some Asiatic port to watch events. The arch-agitator, JosÉ Rizal, who had been purging himself of his former misdemeanors by a two years’ banishment to the south, was sent as a prisoner to Spain, where he was confined in the Catalunian fortress of Montjuich for a few days and then shipped back to Manila for trial.

It appears that some months ago a deputation of Philippine natives went to Japan and presented a petition to the Mikado, praying his Majesty to annex these Islands. The petition was signed, it is said, by 5,000 natives and half-breeds. The Japanese Government, far from regarding the troubled condition of Spanish affairs as their opportunity, forwarded the petition to the Spanish Government, thus the names of 5,000 disaffected persons became known to the authorities here and were inscribed in their Black Book. No measures, however, were taken until the storm was about to burst. Intense excitement prevailed amongst the Europeans as the names of the 300 arrested were disclosed, for they were not mostly individuals known to us personally or by repute. But since then three months have lingered on, with the daily arrests of so many men of position that we are prepared to meet the most startling event with perfect equanimity.

On the 23rd of August the leading newspaper of Manila published a stirring article, ringing with high patriotism, which concluded with an appeal to the Spaniards to go en masse to Government House the next day to discuss a proposal for extraordinary measures. They closed their offices and shops and went. It looked like a Sunday or a three-cross saint day. The Governor-General refused to receive them, and fined the newspaper $500, which was raised at once by public subscription. Indignation was openly expressed. A cablegram was sent to the Home Government asking for one thousand troops, etc. The reply came advising the immediate dispatch of 2,000 men, two millions of cartridges, 6,000 Remington rifles, and the gunboats Isla de Luzon and Isla de Cuba. Every fortnight, indeed, has brought fresh supplies of troops, which now make a total in the colony of about 10,000 Spanish regulars under arms.

On the 26th of August one thousand rebels appeared at Caloocan, four miles from Manila. They murdered some Chinese and took others prisoners. They were held back by the gendarmerie until reinforcements of cavalry came from the capital, but just before the squadron of troops arrived the rebels fled. The cavalry scoured the district and returned to Manila the next day. I saw them pass over the Bridge of Spain. There was tremendous excitement. Groups formed about the Escolta—the principal business street—discussing the situation. For days no one met another without having some news, real or imaginary, to disclose. Business was, and still is, much interrupted. Market people, washmen, traders of all sorts from outside, were afraid to venture along the approaches to the city. Two days passed—three days passed, there was really no fresh event. The nervous tension of the amazed population began to slacken. A reaction set in, and whilst precautions were discussed and everybody was prepared to say what he should do, the Caloocan onslaught began to be talked of as a mere filibustering expedition which would break up at the first smell of powder, and simply go to swell the ranks of the ever-existing brigand bands. The Governor-General refused to proclaim martial law. The circumstances were declared to be not sufficiently grave to warrant that measure being taken, and the public were settling down into a state of acquiescence with that view when, like a bombshell, the news of a far more serious raid fell upon Manila. On Sunday, 30th of August, before daybreak, the rebels again concentrated at San Juan del Monte, four miles from the city walls. An artilleryman was murdered, and an attempt was made to seize the powder-magazine, whilst several of the loyalists were wounded.