When Governor Taft and other members of the peace commission were expected at Iloilo and Jaro, there were great preparations for several weeks before hand. The guests came to Jaro for a morning reception at the home of one of the wealthy citizens. The house had been beautifully decorated and the refreshments were served in the large room at the left of the hall; the buffet luncheon consisted of every kind of cake and sweetmeats, champagne, wine, and beer. The Filipino guests were in the large front room, seated in rows, six or eight rows, perhaps twenty in a row, with their backs to each other or facing each other.

I was the only American woman there until Mrs. Taft and other ladies with the peace commission arrived. Not wishing to sit solemnly in line gazing at these newly acquired sisters of mine, I ventured some remarks in Spanish about the weather and the coming guests. There was little response. My curiosity getting the better of me, I made bold to examine the gowns of these women for I had seldom seen before such handsome material, rich brocaded satins, cloth of gold wrought with seed pearls and jewels; huge strings of pearls on the neck, diamond and pearl rings on the fingers and very handsome ornaments in the hair; every head bore a huge pompadour and every face was heavily powdered; the perfume was stifling even with every window stretched to the fullest extent. Each woman carried a handsome fan and each was attended by at least one servant. After waiting in this rigid company manner about an hour and a half, the distinguished guests arrived. We were then entertained by some of the local artists and celebrities. There was vocal and instrumental music; a fine grand piano, very good violins, and the concert was by far the best music I had heard in the islands.

At 1:30 we were all carried over in carriages to the house of the Presidente and thirty-five of us sat down to a very sumptuous banquet of about eighteen courses. The menu of soup, fish, game, birds, salads, was very quickly served, a waiter for each guest. The table was furnished with much silver and cut glass, and at each plate was a bouquet holder with napkin ring attached; there were after-dinner speeches by Governor Taft, Judge Wright, and others; then we were ushered into the large drawing-room where coffee and cigars were served. The room had been especially prepared by the labor of many days spent on tacking flags on the ceiling and side walls, making a very beautiful effect. There were huge bunches of artificial flowers. For the entertainment at this house, all the Filipino bands from the surrounding towns were massed together. Governor Taft complimented his hosts upon their very delightful “entretener,” and said he had seen nothing to compare with it for elegance and enthusiastic welcome since he had been on the islands. At every corner of the plaza there were erected handsome bamboo arches and booths, and every strip of bunting and every flag that could be got out were waving in Jaro on this great day of inauguration of the Civil Commission on the Island of Panay. To me it seemed anything but a peaceful time as the scouts were then out after a very desperate band of insurrectos, but I have never seen anywhere more beautiful ornamentation or more lavish display of wealth, and yet there was lacking in it all the genuine ring of cordiality and enthusiasm. In Iloilo there were many receptions and various kinds of entertainments given. Governor Taft invited leading citizens out to the ship where he returned the compliment with refreshments, good cheer, and a salute.

In writing of my life in the islands, I must mention incidents of serious nature and yet of common happening. Almost daily would come an instant call for troops to mount and ride post haste by night or day after some of these worse than lawless bands of Filipinos. One evening while we were at dinner we had as our guest a Lieutenant of one of the volunteer regiments. He had been ill and had spent the time of his convalescence in acquiring some of the manifold Filipino dialects, about sixty in all, it is said. He was detailed by the commanding officer to visit some of the inland villages and inspect the schools and inquire generally after the condition of the people. He told us that evening that he intended to make quite an extensive tour around the island of Panay in the interest of the schools. “You are going to take a strong guard, of course?” we asked. “Anyone going on such a peaceful mission as mine would not need even an orderly, but I will take an orderly to assist in carrying the books and pamphlets.” The very next evening while we were at dinner, word was brought that this splendid young man had been killed not three miles from where we were sitting. In a few minutes men mounted and were off to the scene of the murder. In a nearby hut the young officer lay dead. He, who had so trustingly confided in these “peaceful people,” had fallen the victim of his noble impulses. Every article of any value had been taken from his body except a little watch that he carried in a small leather case on his wrist; he had bought it that very day to send to his wife. No trace of the “insurrectos,” the murderers, was ever found. A native woman said the officer was riding peacefully along with his orderly at his side when suddenly they were stopped by a volley of balls. The Lieutenant turned, as did also the orderly; their horses took fright, one rider was thrown, probably already dead, the other escaped. The funeral rites of our noble soldier were conducted with military honors; the body was sent home to his bereaved wife and family.

One day a missionary was on his way from town to town; he had, unfortunately, an orderly with him. He was stopped and asked his business; he replied that he was a missionary. “Why carry a gun?” was the scornful retort. He was stripped of everything of value but was allowed to return. The soldier did not fare so well; he was killed before the rescuing party could reach him. A detachment was sent out one day to procure some young beef for sale in a nearby village. They were received with open arms by the Presidente of the village and the Padre and were most sumptuously entertained. It was kindly explained that they had no young cattle for sale but that about a mile further on there were some very fine young calves that could be had at five dollars in gold.

Not thinking of any treachery, the soldiers mounted and rode about a mile beyond the village into a ravine which, according to the instructions, led to the cattle-field beyond. While crossing the stream in the bottom of the ravine, the men were startled by the whiz of bullets and, glancing up, found the steep banks lined with insurrectos who had opened fire without a moment’s warning. Our men entrapped, surrounded, were ordered to surrender. For answer they put spurs to their horses and started back under a heavy fire. Unfortunately two of the fine horses were shot; their riders were obliged to run afoot the rest of the way up the bank and were picked up by their comrades. One of the men shouted, “Sergeant, don’t you hear they are calling for us to surrender? Say are you going to?” With an oath, “No, not by a d—-d sight. Run and fight.” Which they did and actually got away from hundreds of natives and arrived in Jaro breathless and weary, the horses covered with foam. Not a man had been killed or wounded. Two horses were killed outright, but none were maimed. Soon the troop was in the saddle and out after those treacherous miscreants. Many natives were arrested and brought to town and then it was found that this loyal (?) Presidente, whom the commanding general had had the utmost confidence in was at the head of a number of Filipino companies which scoured the country to capture small parties of our soldiers. As the investigations were pressed it came out that the bodies of their victims had been torn to pieces and buried in quicklime that there might be no traces left of their treachery. It was several weeks before the full facts were obtained and before the mutilated remains of our soldiers were found and brought back and buried.

The volunteer regiments suffered most from these brutal cowards, directed and urged on by the “very best men” in civil and “sacred” office. These are facts from the lips of U. S. officers, men who do not lie. Very often the troops were called out to capture these bloody bands, but it was hard to locate them or bring them to a stand. The natives knew so many circuitous ways of running to cover and they had so many friends to aid them that it was almost impossible to follow them. Whenever they were captured they were so surprised, so humiliated, so innocent, meek and subdued, that it would never occur to an honest man that they could know how to handle a bolo or a gun. But experience taught that the most guileless in looks were the worst desperadoes of all. My first sight of a squad of these captives is a thing not to be forgotten. They were a scrubby lot of hardly human things, stunted, gnarled pigmies, with no hats or shoes, and scarcely a rag of clothing. Their cruel knives, the deadly bolos, were the only things they could be stripped of. I looked down upon them from my window in astonishment. “It is not possible,” I exclaimed, “that these miserable creatures are samples of what is called the Filipino army.” “Yes,” an officer replied, “these are the fellows that never fight; that only stab in the back and mutilate the dying and dead.” My eyes turned to the guard, our own soldiers, fine, manly fellows, who fairly represented the personnel of our own splendid army. It made me indignant that one of them should suffer at the hands of such vermin or rather at the hands of the religious manipulators who stood in safety behind their ignorant degraded slaves.