Funeral ceremonies and the royal pyre of honor erected by piety and consecrated by the grief of the very distinguished and ever loyal city of Manila, in memory of the most serene prince of EspaÑa, Don Balthassar Carlos (may he dwell in glory). By license of the ordinary and of the government. [Printed] at Manila, by Simon Pinpin, in the year 1649.
[This document is presented in translation and synopsis, because of the light it throws on the religio-social life of Manila in the middle of the seventeenth century. It is preceded by the license to print given (June 5, 1649), for the archbishop by Doctor Don Juan Fernandez de Ledo, precentor of Manila cathedral, judge-provisor, official and vicar-general of the archbishopric; by that of the government, given (May 27, 1649), on recommendation of Joseph de la Anunciacion, prior of the Recollect convent in Manila; and by a letter (dated Manila, December 15, 1648, and signed by Lucas de Porras, Gabriel Gomez del Castillo, and Diego Morales) addressed to the governor Diego Faxardo y Chacon, which amounts to a dedicatory epistle. The relation begins with the grief that comes to the city of Manila with the announcement of the sudden death (at the age of seventeen) of the prince Balthasar Carlos, heir to the throne and son of Felipe IV and Isabel of Bourbon, who had died but a short time before. The document continues:]
The first rumors of this so sad event reached this city in the middle of December, 1647, by means of the Dutch, who were harassing these islands at that time with a large fleet of twelve galleons, which sailed from Nueva Batavia with the intention of capturing this stronghold. But they, after having experienced the valor and boldness of our Spaniards in the severe and obstinate combat in the port of Cabite, of which a full relation has been written in former years,1 attempted to terrify the hearts and take away the courage of those whom they had not been able to resist by hostilities, by sending a letter to Don Diego Faxardo, knight of the Order of Santiago, member of the War Council, and president, governor, and captain-general of these islands; and with it part of a gazette printed in the Flemish characters and language, which contained a copy of a letter from his Majesty to the MarquÉs de LeganÉs, in which was mentioned the heavy grief of his royal heart because of the sudden death of his son and heir, Don Balthassar Carlos. The minds of so loyal vassals were alarmed, and their hearts chilled, on hearing so sad news; and those who had not given way before the violent attack of cannon-balls yielded to the tenderness of grief, and to the sighs of sorrow; and they bore in their faces the effects of their dismay and the marks of their pain, as if the prince were seen dead in each one.... There was no doubt of the truth of that news, for its arrival with the superscription of misfortune gave it the credit of truth. But neither the condition in which we found ourselves, with arms in our hands, nor prudence allowed us to proceed with public demonstrations and funeral ceremonies until we received a letter from his Majesty, and with the letter the order, direction, and prudent management which so serious a matter demanded.
[The royal announcement arrived in July, 1648; and by his decree the king ordered the demonstrations of sorrow to be made on the same scale as if intended for his own person.]
In conformity with that decree, and in order that they might obey it, the auditors called a meeting, and resolved to publish the mourning, and to prepare the things necessary for the splendid celebration of the funeral ceremonies. At the same time they elected as the manager of that solemn function the fiscal auditor, Don Sebastian Cavallero de Medina, who was as vigilant and punctual in the affairs of his office as attentive to the service of both Majesties—guaranteeing by the completeness of his arrangements the entire success which so serious a matter demanded. As his assistants in carrying out that commission were named the treasurer, Lucas de Porras Ontiberos, alcalde-in-ordinary, and Captains Gabriel Gomez del Castillo and Don Diego Morales, regidors. At a suitable time, the mourning rites were heralded, in fulfilment of the above resolution; and all the provinces were notified to make the same demonstrations, so that the external conduct of so faithful vassals should correspond to the sorrow which palpitated in their hearts and saddened their breasts. Scarcely was the word given before the obedient people changed the precious and fine appearance of their attire with somber mourning garments; and this whole community became a theater of grief—each one showing the loyalty which was as much evinced by his grief as it was wondered at by the barbarous nations who trade in these islands, when they saw in so remote a part of the world so extreme piety, so intense love, and so faithful allegiance to their king, that distance does not make it lukewarm, or absence weaken the affection that these deserving vassals have ever had for their Catholic kings.
The day set for their expressions of condolence arrived, Monday, November 9, 648; for the direction of the ceremonies, Admiral Don Andres de Azcueta and Captain Don Pedro Diaz de Mendoza were appointed managers. The halls of the Audiencia and royal assembly were made ready with the funereal adornments and other preparations significant of so melancholy an occasion. At two in the afternoon the bells of all the churches began to ring, in so sad and doleful tones that they filled the air with sorrow, and the hearts of those who heard their plaints with bitterness and grief, learning from the very bronze to grieve for so considerable a loss. At that same time all the religious communities assembled, with their crosses, priests, deacons, and subdeacons, clad in their vestments, in the royal chapel of the garrison. That temple, although small in size, has all the characteristics of a great one in its beauty, elegance, and arrangement. There, architecture was employed to the best effect, and genius was alert in erecting a royal tomb and mausoleum proportionate to the grandeur and sovereign rank of the person; and one not at all inferior to the one erected during the funeral rites and pageant of our lady the queen,2 by the direction and advice of Doctor Don Diego Afan de Ribera, auditor of this royal Audiencia, and auditor elect of that of the new kingdom of Granada. The royal assembly entrusted the arrangements of that solemnity to him. Each community in succession chanted its responsary, with different choirs of musicians, so well trained that they could vie with those of Europa. While that pious action was going on, the ecclesiastical and secular cabildos were assembling, as well as the tribunal of the royal official judges, the superiors of the orders, the rectors of the two colleges—San Joseph, which is in charge of the fathers of the Society of Jesus; and San Thomas, which is ruled by the fathers of St. Dominic—and the members of the bureau of the Santa Misericordia (as was determined and arranged two days previously, the place of each being assigned) in the hall of the royal Audiencia. There the managers assigned them their position, observing toward each one the order of his seniority and precedence. They left that place in the same order, to express their condolences to Don Diego Faxardo, governor and captain-general of these islands, who stood in the hall of the royal assembly. He was covered with mourning, which well manifested his grief and represented very vividly in his majestic appearance the royal person—in whose name he received the condolences for the death of the royal son and heir, Don Balthassar Carlos, the prince of EspaÑa. First entered the royal Audiencia, in company with their official, as grave in the pomp of their mourning as adequate in the demonstrations of their grief. Don Antonio de Castro, senior auditor and auditor-elect of Mexico, spoke in the name of all, expressing in brief and impressive sentences the universal grief of all the community and the special grief of that royal Audiencia. His Lordship listened to him attentively, and answered him gravely and concisely, with words suitable to the subject, thanking him in the name of his Majesty for the demonstrations of grief which servants so loyal were making on an occasion so consecrated to sorrow. Having finished their oration, the royal Audiencia gave place successively to the ecclesiastical cabildo, the secular cabildo, the tribunal of the royal official judges, the superiors of the orders, the colleges, and the bureau of the Santa Misericordia—each one taking its proper place as regards precedence. All of them observed the courtesies and punctilious forms due to the decorum and seriousness of that function. After these had signified by the gravity of their words, and by the seriousness and sadness of their countenances, the heavy weight of the sorrow which oppressed their hearts for a loss so worthy of immortal lament, and after his Lordship had answered with equally apposite speech what good judgment dictated and sorrow forced out, that act of mourning came to an end. It was no less dignified than refined; and no accompaniment or ceremony was lacking in the decorum of that action—the daughter of the affection with which so faithful vassals serve their king and sovereign.
That parade was followed by another of no less gravity, namely the accompaniment of the royal crown to the chapel of the royal camp for the solemnity of vespers and the funeral oration which was prepared [for this occasion]. For that purpose, after the condolences the members of the royal Audiencia returned to the hall of the royal assembly, where the august crown reposed with all authority and propriety, signifying, in the somber mourning with which it was covered, a sorrowing majesty and a monarchy grief-stricken at beholding itself without the head from whose glorious temples it had fallen—Cecidit corona capitis nostri.3 His Lordship handed the crown to General Don Pedro Mendiola y Carmona, entrusting to his hands the honor of so great a Majesty, and thus crowning the great services which the latter had rendered to his king in the lofty posts that he has occupied in these islands. This was the opening act of the parade, which commenced at the palace, encircled the entire plaza of arms under the galleries, and ended at the royal chapel—the theater, as we have already remarked, destined for the magnificence of that funeral celebration. That act was arranged by the care and foresight of the royal assembly, and carried out by means of the managers with so great brilliancy, gravity, and propriety that it corresponded in all things with the majesty of the [dead] person. The orphan boys of the college of San Juan de Letran—who number more than one hundred and fifty, and are reared at the expense of his Majesty, in charge of the fathers of St. Dominic—marched first of all, two by two (the universal order that was observed in that act by all the tribunals and communities) holding their candles of pure white wax, which were distributed, that day and the following, with magnificence and liberality by this illustrious city. The alguaÇils followed, and then the ministers of justice, the attorneys, the judges’ secretaries, the notaries, public and royal, with their gowns and cloaks trailing behind. Next to them came the confraternities with their pennants and banners, and after these the parishes from the suburbs of this city, with their crosses, and their curas clad in black cloaks. Next in the line was the college of Santo Thomas, and following it that of San Joseph, with their badges [becas] turned back at the collar as a sign and token of grief. Then followed the bureau of the Santa Misericordia (which is composed of the most noble persons of this city) all clad in their black surtouts and hats, with heads covered, bearing their small bells, and the standard with their insignia in front. The holy families also marched: the brethren of St. John of God, the Recollects of St. Augustine, the Society of Jesus, the hermits of St. Augustine, the seraphic family of St. Francis, and that of the Preachers. These were not so splendid by reason of the candles which they carried in their hands as by the gravity and modesty of their manner, showing in the seriousness and composure of their faces the religious sorrow and pious grief that oppressed their hearts. The ecclesiastical cabildo followed with their black choir-cloaks, with the skirts extended and their heads covered; and altogether with so grave and majestic a demeanor that they commanded the eyes and also the applause of all the people. The city [cabildo] followed, together with the tribunal of the royal official judges, bearing their maces and insignia. They were accompanied by the nobility of the city with flowing black mourning cloaks, and with heads covered; but very apparent was the grief and manifest the sadness which their love and good-will towards their unfortunate prince brought to their faces. The royal standard of the city was carried by Captain Gabriel Gomez del Castillo, assisted by the two alcaldes-in-ordinary, who carried it between them, as authorizing the action. The royal Audiencia with their president, the governor of these islands, crowned all that grave and religious concourse with all the splendors of authority. They were followed by the government and court secretaries, and by the gentlemen and pages of the palace, clad in all display of grandeur in funeral garb, thus manifesting in somber grays the sharpness and depth of the wound which they had received by the sudden death of the most serene and very august prince, Don Balthassar Carlos, the clear and resplendent light of the Spanish monarchy, at whose taking away all the world was darkened. Between the city cabildo and the royal Audiencia was carried the CÆsarean crown, with two kings-at-arms, on a cushion of rich cloth, with the gravity and decorum which is due to the head [that it adorns], to which all the people who were present that day rendered humble veneration. So sad a spectacle was made by all that splendid parade, that never was more bitter grief represented, never was Majesty seen more afflicted, never was sorrow seen more at its height. All the Plaza de Armas was occupied, while that brilliant procession was going round it, by the royal regiment of the Spanish troops, the governor of which is Sargento-mayor Manuel Estacio Venegas. It consisted of four hundred and eighty-six infantrymen formed in a body with four fronts, each of which was commanded by two captains and one alfÉrez. The regiment marched to take position in five lines, with fifty artillerymen in the rear with their campaign linstocks. They all maintained so great order and discipline that the military art was seen in practice in all its splendor—a glorious proof of the diligence of their commandant and the loyalty and devotion of so valiant soldiers; for notwithstanding the excessive heat of the sun they remained immovable on that and the following day, their zeal and love for their king, which burn most brightly in their hearts, being preponderant in them. The parade having passed, all the soldiers fell in behind, captained by the sargento-mayor himself, the commandant of the regiment. They entered by one door of the royal chapel and went out by the other, with drums muffled and banners trailing, and the soldiers carrying their arquebuses under the arm with the butt-ends reversed, with an order so regular and so in keeping with military rules that that action deserved the acclamation and even the admiration of all. The father chaplain-in-chief of the regiment, namely, the presentado father Fray Joseph Fayol, of the Order of Nuestra SeÑora de la Merced, was present, as were also all the royal chaplains, at the door of the royal chapel, with cross and wax tapers [ciriales] held aloft while the procession was entering. After they had entered, the royal crown was placed on its royal catafalque—or rather a funeral pyre of fire, crowned with candles as is the firmament with stars, where the brilliant and the majestic glowed in competition. I leave the description of that for the crown of this historical compilation. Those in the procession took possession of and even filled all the seats which were provided for the tribunals and the communities, distributing themselves therein according to the same order of their seniority. With this began the vespers for the dead, which was in charge of the chaplain-in-chief, assisted by the royal chaplains, with all the requisites of solemnity and pomp, accompanied by the piety, devotion, and silence of so grave an assembly who were present, at the verge of tears. They paid with fervent suffrages the debt of their love and the obligations of their loyalty to the prince, their deceased sovereign, whose obsequies they were performing; and they refreshed their memories with his heroic virtues, and his brilliant deeds in the tender and flowery years of his age—gifts that assured us that he was glorious and triumphant in the court of Heaven. The complement of the solemn splendor of that day was the reverend father, Fray Vicente Argenta, of the seraphic order, and past provincial of this province of San Gregorio. He, occupying the pulpit, took up the space of an hour with a funeral panegyric, where his eloquence had an opportunity to exercise itself in all its colors, and in a beautiful variety of erudition, both divine and human. He roamed through the spacious and extensive field of the virtues of our most serene prince, with so impressive discourse adjusted to the gravity and meaning of the subject, that he softened the hearts of the people and even drew tears from their eyes, the faithful witnesses of their grief. That solemn function ended with a responsary; and then the procession was again formed, in the same manner and method, until they left his Lordship at the palace. After having performed the due courtesies, the gentlemen of the royal Audiencia, and of the cabildos, tribunals, and religious communities bade one another farewell, and returned to their houses, for the night had set in.
The following day, Tuesday, November 10, before sunrise, the care and anxiety of the sacred families were awake, and all went to the royal chapel with different choirs of musicians. There, at the various altars assigned to them, they sang first each their mass, and afterward the responsary in front of the royal catafalque. The mingling of so many voices with the dead silence and serene quiet of the night made an indistinct harmony and a confusion of echoes pleasant and agreeable to the listeners, awakening at the same time in their hearts tender affection and loving grief, which they consecrated to the glorious memory of the prince whose obsequies were being celebrated. After having performed this pious action they went to the palace, where they waited until all who had taken part in the parade of the preceding day had assembled. The parade was arranged and directed at the appointed hour, with the same order and brilliant display as on the preceding day, and took the same course until they entered the chapel of the royal camp. There having filled the seats, and the order and arrangements of the day before having been observed, the office for the dead was commenced, and then the mass was sung. Doctor Juan de Ucles, the venerable dean of the holy church, officiated, accompanied with all solemnity and pomp, at an altar which was erected near the center of the catafalque in front of the urn. He was clad in his vestments, with precious ornaments; and on that day the music was better than ever before, the musicians outdoing themselves in heightening its beauties, and with the consonance and harmony of their voices rendering it suitable to the majesty and high dignity of him who filled their thoughts at that moment. The reverend father Francisco Colin, outgoing provincial and present rector of the college of the Society of Jesus, and qualifier of the Holy Office, sealed the glory of that day. He mounted the pulpit, where he preached a sermon so well suited to the subject in its eloquence, the depth of its arguments, the gravity and maturity of its discourse, the profundity and erudition of its fundamental proofs, and the solidity and thoroughness of its learning, that he arrested the attention and even the admiration of those present. Not less learnedly did he instruct them than he melted them to affection and sorrow, quickening in them all, with his intellectual vigor and his well-known pulpit eloquence, grief at having lost a life so filled with virtues and so crowned with merits. Some responsaries followed the sermon, and with that ended the funeral ceremonies for our prince, whose memory will live immortal in our hearts. During those two days was shown the devotion and loyalty of vassals ever attentive to the service of their Catholic monarch, in recognition of the rewards that they receive from his august hand. The same parade was formed once more; and, leaving his Lordship at the palace, they bade one another farewell, and returned to their houses.
The sumptuous and royal mausoleum, which was erected by the piety of this noble community, occupies the last place in this brief relation. In the description of it, one finds his eloquence fail and he is dismayed, and he can find no excellence in his art that is proportionate to the measure of its grandeur and majesty. The said alcaldes-in-ordinary and two regidors assisted the fiscal auditor as managers in the construction of that catafalque. They urged forward the work, and attended to what was done by the best workmen and those who were most skilled in the matter. Beyond doubt they saw fulfilled the object of their vigilance, in the applause and admiration of all. It was a work that seemed born of nature rather than a contrived invention of art. In it gravity was surpassed, richness gleamed forth, majesty was displayed, and method excelled; and its brilliancy was dazzling, with so beautiful an arrangement and display of lights, without proving an obstacle by their number or the lights paling, that grandeur was never seen to greater advantage or majesty more resplendent.
Its ground space and arch occupied all the space of the principal chapel, until it met the very ceiling of the temple; and had the capacity of the place allowed more, the execution of so extensive a contrivance would not have been confined to so narrow limits. The height of the socle was six feet, and it was thirty-nine feet wide. In the center of it arose the catafalque, which was octagonal in form. It was composed of two structures made after the best ideas of architecture. The first structure was composed of sixteen columns, with foundations on a like number of bases and pedestals crowned with beautiful and curiously wrought capitals. On top of them arose the entablatures with their friezes, architraves, fluted mouldings, and pediment of the arch crowned with balusters—all regulated to the requirements of art without detracting one jot from the idea [that they expressed]. That structure ended in a cupola,4 which well supplied the place of the sky, when it was seen reflecting the lights, and bathed in splendor. The cornices, mouldings, representations of fruit, mouldings above, and brackets, were of a bronze color, so cunningly done that they appeared rather the work of nature than the imitation of art. The pedestals and capitals, touched with beaten gold, heightened the fiction of the bronze which the brush and hand of the artist feigned and imitated. The shafts of the columns, with their pedestals, friezes and architraves were so vivid an imitation of jasper that one would believe them to have been cut from that mineral; or that they had stolen the confused variety of its colors, so that one’s sight was mistaken in it. Their beauty was heightened by the brilliancy of silver work or broken crystals with which they were wreathed. In the center of that structure shone forth majestically the urn, which was placed under a canopy of solid silver covered with a rich violet cloth of gold, with two cushions of the same material, and and her of white cloth of gold, on which reposed the royal crown. On its pedestal was seen a stanza of ten verses, as follows:
“Esta fatal urna encierra fallÎda vna Magestad: ayer temida Deidad, oy breve montÓn de tierra. Poco alcanÇa, y mucho hierra quien prevenido, no advierte lo inconstante de su suerte; pues no reserva la Parca al Sucessor de un Monarca del tributo de la muerte.” | This fatal urn encloses a dead majesty, but yestreen a reverenced deity, now a mere heap of earth. Little gains he, and much he errs, who, cautious, does not note the mutability of his lot; for Fate does not exempt the successor of a monarch from the tribute of death.”5 |
At the four corners of the urn, outside the circumference of the catafalque, were seen four kings-at-arms, of beautiful appearance with their headpieces pulled down and gold maces on their shoulders, with which one hand was occupied, while with the other they held up the escutcheon of the royal arms embroidered with gold. The royal arms were also stamped upon their breasts on their black corselets, girdled with a beautiful variety of bands and edgings of gold. In the niches of the first columns, which formed the front and faced the urn, upon their fretted pedestals and spattered with gold rose the figures of Grammar and Rhetoric with their emblems—so excellent in their workmanship and lifelike in attitude that, although mute, the excellence of their sculpture and make-up instructed [the beholder]. I do not describe the grace of their shapes, the beauty of their features, the easy flow of the hair, the undulations of the drapery, spangled with bits of glass, and the other accompaniments of beautiful ornaments and fantasies of art, in order not to weary [my readers] with prolixities. They were significant of the excellent progress which the prince made in both of those branches of study, and an illustrious trophy of his early genius and marvelous intellect. Grammar had the following attached to the placard of her pedestal:
“La primera, que dictÒ al Principe Balthassar Preceptos de declinar, y de construir, fuy yo. A la muerte declinÓ en su postera licion, porque es cierta conclusion; que en el arte del morir, la construccion del vivir acaba en declinacion.” | “The first to dictate to Prince Balthassar the rules of declension and construction was I. At death he declined in his last lesson; for it is a sure conclusion that in the art of dying the construction of living ends in declension.” |
Not less pithily and elegantly did Rhetoric explain her thought in another stanza, of ten verses, as follows:
“Yo enseÑÉ lo figurado, y lo terso del estilo al Principe, aquiem el hilo cortÒ de la vida, el Hado Mas ya estÁ desfigurado en aquesta tumba oscura: mirale sin hermosura; y desde tus tiernos aÑos, Rhetoricos desengaÑos aprende en esta Figura.” | “I taught the figures and polish of style to the Prince, whose thread of life Fate cut short. But now already lies he disfigured in that dark tomb. Look at him, robbed of his beauty; and, from thy tender years, learn in that figure rhetorical errors.” |
The second structure was built upon the first, and it was no less grave and majestic. There symmetry and proportion vied with beauty and variety of colors, which the brush usurped from nature. It was composed of twelve columns, made in imitation of jasper, with their pedestals, architraves, and flying cornices; and these were closed above with a cupola, adorned with spirals and volutes, which happily completed the work. In the space between the columns of the facade or front, and occupying their own pedestals, were set majestic and pleasing figures of Arithmetic and Geometry, with their emblems. These statues faced each other, and corresponded to Grammar and Rhetoric who were in the first structure—in both their location and altitude, and in the proportions and excellence of their sculpture. It was a glorious blazon for our prince, who, although of so tender years, was able, having cast aside sloth and childish amusements, to give himself up to the exercise of branches of learning so useful, thus preparing for success in the monarchical government of his kingdoms. Arithmetic had an inscription on the placard of her pedestal, which read as follows:
“A guarismo reducida la cuenta de Balthassar, no vino mas que a sumar diez y siete aÑos de vida. ConcluyÓse la partida, y la cuenta rematada se hallÒ la muerte pagada: porque se ajustÓ de suerte, en la vida con la muerte, que no quedÓ a dever nada.” | “Reduced to a cipher is the account of Balthassar, who at last added up but seventeen years of life. The entry was concluded, and the account having been ended, death was found to be paid. For he so balanced his accounts with death in life that he did not remain at all indebted.” |
Geometry had a corresponding placard on her base, which read as follows:
“Balthassar con mi medida el orbe entero midio: y no contento passÓ a medir la eterno vida. La indistancia conocida, que ay del vivir al morir; es mejor saber medir lo que eterno a de durar con regla del bien obrar, con compas del bien vivir.” | “Balthassar estimated the whole world with my measure, and, not content, he passed to measure eternal life. It is better to be able to measure the unknown distance between life and death (which must endure eternally) with the rule of good works and the compass of good living.” |
The space between the columns of this structure was occupied by the prince (or rather, our sovereign)—the glorious shoot from the Austrian trunk, and the beautiful flower which was the most brilliant ornament of the august lily of Francia—who, because he had no room in the entire sphere of his extensive monarchy, mounted gloriously, by means of the wings of his brilliant and heroic virtues, to rule in the heavens. His statue was so well conceived, and so commensurate with the beauty of the architecture, that one would think it had a soul, for it gave soul to the entire work. Not only did it take possession of the eyes but also of the hearts [of the people] who rendered humble adoration to the image of their prince. The prince was armed, with breastplate and shoulder-piece embroidered with beautiful edgings of gold, and his clothing was elegant and showy. In his right hand he held an imperial and CÆsarean crown. In his left hand was another and royal crown, indicating him as sworn prince of the kingdoms of EspaÑa and of the empire of the Indias. On the base of the image was an inscription which read as follows:
“Iurado Principe fui; y Rey, y Emperador fuera: mas ay que la Parca fiera, embidia tuvo de mi! Hiriome cruel, y perdi el ser Rey, y Emperador: mas orto Imperio mejor por el perdido he ganado: porque crece el embidiado, quanto la embidia es mayor.” | “I was the sworn prince, and would have been king and emperor, had it not been that savage Fate was envious of me. Cruelly did she wound me, and I lost the kingship and the empire. But I have gained another and better empire instead of the one that I lost; for greater does the envied one become when the envy is greater.” |
By way of a finial, there was displayed on the ball at the center of the cupola a proud and spirited figure of Monarchy—armed gracefully but heavily with breastplate, shoulder-plate, greaves, cuisses, gorgets, and bracelets; and wearing skirts of bronze color edged with gold. Her head was encased in a morion surmounted by waving plumes and beautiful crests. Over her breast was a rich sash that hung loosely with airy grace and splendor. She was clad in a military cloak, flowing in beautiful lines, and ornamented here and there with embroidery in silver. In her right hand she gracefully held a general’s baton subduing with it by the jaw a rampant lion of wonderful fierceness. With the left hand she clasped an escutcheon of the royal arms, bound about with many spirals of gold edging and beautiful ornaments. Massed about her feet were various military instruments, and at her side were the standards and devices of her glorious triumphs. All that variety composed a collection of beauties which was the crown of the entire work. Two finely carved pyramids arose gloriously at the two extremes of the socle, which they confronted. They were as high as the catafalque, and were painted in various colors, and spangled with bits of crystal, and on them were many rows of candle-sockets. There were, besides, other triumphal obelisks which were erected upon the cupola, and garlanded the upper structure, which accompanied Monarchy as glorious monuments. Many escutcheons of the royal arms and of the city were seen hanging at regular intervals—some of them embroidered and others in bas-relief, and all with much ornamentation of ribbons and resplendent in colors. The brilliant display of candles, (more than one thousand two hundred in number), enhanced all this splendor. Most of the lights were candles of two, three, four, five, or six libras, and were placed in their silver candlesticks, sockets, and holders. Besides, there were a great number of codales,6 which were made for that purpose and filled the entire space of the plinth.
The funeral poems and eulogies with which all the royal chapel was crowned were a glorious acquittance of the Muses, in the happy death of their illustrious pupil. Some of these will be given in conclusion, and with them will end [the account of] what was done at the funeral ceremonies which this noble and loyal city of Manila performed for its august prince. The public demonstrations corresponded, not to the devotion with which so loyal vassals serve their Catholic sovereigns, but to the condition in which this community finds itself at present, worn out with so many calamities, oppressed by so many misfortunes, and even bloodless and exhausted by the so continual invasions of enemies; had not the divine hand been so favorable on its side, it would not now have any shoulders to support so heavy a burden. May our Catholic and invincible monarch accept these slight indications of the desire, and the proofs of the affection, which all this community offers as the obligation of its loyalty and in token of its grief, consecrated to the happy memories of their prince, in this public manifestation; if not suited to the grandeur of his person, it is to the generosity of his royal breast and august blood. May Heaven extend his life for the glory and increase of this monarchy, as we his humble and obedient vassals desire.7
[Then follow the poems and eulogies above mentioned, which are written partly in Latin and partly in Spanish.]