Manila, the capital of the Philippines, is situated on the Island of Luzon at the mouth and on the left (south) bank of the Pasig River, at N. lat. 14° 36' by E. long. 120° 52'. It is a fortified city, being encircled by bastioned and battlemented walls, which were built in the time of Governor Gomez Perez DasmariÑas, about the year 1590. It is said that the labour employed was Chinese. These walls measure about two miles and a quarter long, and bore mounted old-fashioned cannon. The fortifications are of stone, and their solid construction may rank as a chef d'oeuvre of the 16th century. The earthquake of 1880 caused an arch of one of the entrances to fall in, and elsewhere cracks are perceptible. These defects were never made good. The city is surrounded by water—to the north the Pasig River, to the west the sea, and the moats all around. These moats are paved at the bottom, and sluices—perhaps not in good working order at the present day—are provided for filling them with water from the river.

The demolition of the walls and moats was frequently debated by commissions specially appointed from Spain—the last in October, 1887. It is said that a commission once recommended the cleansing of the moats, which were half full of mud, stagnant water, and vegetable putrid matter, but the authorities hesitated to disturb the deposit, for fear of fetid odours producing fever or other endemic disease.

These city defences, although quite useless in modern warfare with a foreign Power, as was proved in 1898, might any day have been serviceable as a refuge for Europeans in the event of a serious revolt of the natives or Chinese. The garrison consisted of one European and several native regiments.

There are eight drawbridge entrances to the Citadel1 wherein were some Government Offices, branch Post and Telegraph Offices, the Custom-house (temporarily removed to Binondo since May 4, 1887, during the construction of the new harbour), Colleges, Convents, Monasteries, a Prison, numerous Barracks, a Mint, a Military Hospital, an Academy of Arts, a University, a statue of Charles IV. situated in a pretty square, a fine Town Hall, a Meteorological Observatory, of which the director was a Jesuit priest, an Artillery DÉpÔt, a Cathedral and 11 churches.2 The little trade done in the city was exclusively retail. In the month of April or May, 1603, a great fire destroyed one-third of the city, the property consumed being valued at ?1,000,000.

Manila City was a lifeless capital, with narrow streets all running at right angles with each other, of sombre, monastic aspect. It had no popular cafÉs, no opera-house or theatre; indeed absolutely no place of recreation. Only the numerous religious processions relieved the uniformity of city life. The whole (walled) city and its environments seem to have been built solely with a view to self-defence. Since 1887 it had been somewhat embellished by gardens in the public squares.

Besides the churches of the walled city, those of the suburbs are of great historical interest. In the Plaza de Santa Cruz is established the Monte de Piedad, or Public Pawnshop—a fine building—erected under the auspices of Archbishop Pedro Payo.

The great trading-centre is the Island of Binondo, on the right (north) bank of the Pasig River, where the foreign houses are established. On the city side of the river, where there was little commerce and no export or import trade whatever, a harbour was in course of construction, without the least hope of its ever being completed by the Spaniards. All the sea-wall visible of these works was carried away by a typhoon on September 29, 1890. To defray the cost of making this harbour, a special duty (not included in the Budget) of one per cent. on exports, two per cent. on imports, 10 cents per ton on vessels (besides the usual tonnage dues of eight cents per register ton), and a fishing-craft tax were collected since June, 1880. For eighteen years' dues-collection of several millions of pesos only a scrap of sea-wall was to be seen beyond the river in 1898, of no use to trade or to any one. In 1882 fourteen huge iron barges for the transport of stone from Angono for the harbour were constructed by an English engineer, Mr. W.S. Richardson, under contract with the Port Works, for ?82,000.

The Port of Manila was officially held to extend for 27 miles westward from the mouth of the Pasig River. This tortuous river, about 14 miles long, flows from the Laguna de Bay.

The anchorage of the port was in the bay, two to two and a half miles south-west from the red light at the river-entrance, in about six fathoms. There was no special locality reserved for warships.

Ships at the anchorage communicated with the shore by their own boats or steam-launch, and the loading and discharging of vessels was chiefly effected in the bay, one to three miles off the river mouth, by means of lighters called cascoes.

Manila Bay has a circumference of 120 nautical miles, and is far too large to afford adequate protection to ships. The country around it is flat in character and has really nothing attractive.

On October 20, 1882, a typhoon drove 11 ships and one steamer ashore from their anchorage, besides dismasting another and causing three more to collide. When a typhoon is approaching vessels have to run to Cavite for shelter.

The entrance to the bay is divided into two passages by the small Island of Corregidor, on which was a lighthouse showing a revolving bright light, visible 20 miles off. Here was also a signal-station, communicating by a semaphore with a telegraph station on the opposite Luzon coast, and thence by wire with Manila. North of Corregidor Island is situated the once important harbour of MarivÉles.3

The entrance to the Pasig River is between two moles, which run out westward respectively from the citadel on the south bank and from the business suburb of Binondo on the north bank. At the outer extremity of the northern mole was a lighthouse, showing a fixed red light, visible eight miles.

Vessels drawing up to 13 feet could enter the river. In the middle of 1887 a few electric lights were established along the quays from the river mouth to the first bridge, and one light also on that bridge, so that steamers could enter the river after sunset if desired. The wharfage is wholly occupied by steamers and sailing-craft trading within the Archipelago. The tides are very irregular. The rise and fall at springs may be taken to be five feet.

Up to 1887 ships needing repairs had to go to Hong-Kong, but in that year a patent slip was established at CaÑacao Bay, near Cavite, seven miles southward from the Manila Bay anchorage. The working capacity of the hydraulic hauling power of the slip was 2,000 tons.

At Cavite, close by CaÑacao, there was a Government Arsenal and a small slip, having a hauling power of about 500 tons.

Up to the year 1893 the streets of Manila City and suburbs were badly lighted—petroleum lamps, and sometimes cocoanut oil, being used. (The paving was perhaps more defective than the lighting.) In 1892 an Electric Light Company was formed, with a share capital of ?500,000 (?350,000 paid up) for illuminating the city and suburbs and private lighting. Under the contract with the Municipality the company received a grant of ?60,000, and the concern was in full working order the following year. The poorest working class of Manila—fishermen, canoemen, day labourers, etc.—live principally in the ward of Tondo, where dwellings with thatched roofs were allowed to be constructed. In the wet season the part of this ward nearest to the city was simply a mass of pollution. The only drainage was a ditch cut around the mud-plots on which the huts were erected. Many of these huts had pools of stagnant water under them for months, hence it was there that the mortality from fever was at its maximum ratio in the dry season when evaporation commenced. Half the shore side of Tondo has been many times devastated by conflagrations and by hurricanes, locally termed bÁguios.

Binondo presents an aspect of great activity during the day. The import and export trade is still largely in the hands of British merchants, and the retail traffic is, to a great extent, monopolized by the Chinese. Their tiny shops, grouped together in rows, form bazaars. At each counter sits a Chinaman, casting up accounts, with the ancient abacus4 still serving him for practical reckoning. Another is ready at the counter to strike the bargain, whilst a third crafty Celestial lounges about the entrance to tout for custom, with a margin on his prices for haggling which is high or low according to whether the intending purchaser be American, European, half-caste, or native.

There is hardly a street without Chinese dealers, but their principal centre is the Rosario, whilst the finest American and European shops are to be found in the Escolta.5

In 1881 a great fire occurred in the Escolta, and since then the class of property in that important thoroughfare has been much improved. In October, 1885, a second serious fire took place in this street, and on the site of the ruins there now stands a fine block of buildings formerly occupied by the Central Post Office and Telegraph Station, and a row of good shops in European style.

During the working hours were to be seen hundreds of smart Chinese coolies, half-naked, running in all directions with loads, or driving carts, whilst the natives dreamily sauntered along the streets, following their numerous occupations with enviable tranquillity. In the doorways here and there were native women squatting on the flag-stones, picking lice from each other's heads, and serving a purchaser between-times with cigars, betel-nut, and food, when occasion offered.

Certain small handicrafts are almost entirely taken up by the Chinese, such as boot-making, furniture-making, small smith's-work and casting, tin-working, tanning, dyeing, etc., whilst the natives are occupied as silversmiths, engravers, saddlers, water-colour painters, furniture-polishers, bookbinders, etc. A few years ago the apothecaries were almost exclusively Germans; now the profession is shared with natives, half-castes, and one British firm.

The thoroughfares were crowded with carriages during the whole day drawn by pretty native ponies. The public conveyance regulations in Spanish times were excellent. The rates for hiring were very moderate, and were calculated by the time engaged. Incivility of drivers was a thing almost unknown. Their patience was astonishing. They would, if required, wait for the fare for hours together in a drenching rain without a murmur. Having engaged a vehicle (in Manila or elsewhere) it is usual to guide the driver by calling out to him each turn he has to take. Thus, if he be required to go to the right—mano (hand) is the word used; if to the left—silla (saddle) is shouted. This custom originated in the days before natives were intrusted to drive, when a postilion rode the left (saddle) pony, and guided his right (hand) animal with a short rein.

Through the city and suburbs ran lines of tramway with cars drawn by ponies, and (from October 20, 1888 until 1905) a steam tramway operated as far as Malabon.

Fortunately, Easter week brought two days of rest every year for the ponies, namely, Holy Thursday and Good Friday. As in Spain also, with certain exceptions, such as doctors, urgent Government service, etc., vehicles were not permitted in the streets and highways on those days. Soldiers passing through the streets on service carried their guns with the muzzles pointing to the ground. The church bells were tolled with muffled hammers; hence, the vibration of the metal being checked, the peal sounded like the beating of so many tin cans. The shops were closed, and, so far as was practicable, every outward appearance of care for worldly concerns was extinguished, whilst it was customary for the large majority of the population—natives as well as Europeans—who went through the streets to be attired in black. On Good Friday afternoon there was an imposing religious procession through the city and suburbs. On the following Saturday morning (SÁbado de Gloria), there was a lively scene after the celebration of Mass. In a hundred portals and alleys, public and private vehicles were awaiting the peal of the unmuffled church bells. The instant this was heard there was a rush in all directions—the clanking of a thousand ponies' feet; the rumbling sound of hundreds of carriages. The mingled shouts of the natives and the Chinese coolies showed with what bated anxiety and forced subjection material interest and the affairs of this life had been held in check and made subservient to higher thoughts.

An official computation in the year 1885 stated the average number of vehicles which passed through the main street of the city (Calle Real) per day to be 950; through the Escolta, the principal street of Binondo, 5,000; and across the bridge, connecting Binondo with Manila City (where the river is 350 feet wide), 6,000.

Sir John Bowring, in the account of his short visit to Manila in 1858, says he was informed on good authority that the average number of vehicles passing daily at that date through the Escolta amounted to 915; across the bridge, between Binondo and Manila, 1,256; so that apparently in 27 years the number of vehicles in use had increased by about five to one.

The Pasig River is navigable by steam-launches and specially-constructed steamers of light draught, which go up the whole distance into the Laguna de Bay. The river is crossed at Manila and suburbs by three bridges, the chief of which is the Puente de EspaÑa.6

In the suburbs there were four Theatres, in none of which a dramatic company of any note would consent to perform. In one (the Teatro Filipino) the performance could be partly seen from the street; another (the Teatro de Tondo) was situated in a dirty thoroughfare in a low quarter; the third (the Teatro del Principe) usually gave an entertainment in dialect for the amusement of the natives; and the fourth (the Teatro Zorrilla), located in Tondo, was built to serve as theatre or circus without any regard to its acoustic properties; hence only one-third of the audience could hear the dialogue. There was a permanent Spanish Comedy Company (on tour at times in Yloilo and CebÚ), and occasionally a troupe of foreign strolling players, a circus, a concert, or an Italian Opera Company came to Manila to entertain the public for a few weeks.

In 1880 there used to be a kind of tent-theatre, called the Carrillo where performances were given without any pretence to histrionic art or stage regulations. The scenes were highly ridiculous, and the gravest spectator could not suppress laughter at the exaggerated attitudes and comic display of the native performers. The public had full licence to call to the actors and criticize them in loud voices sÉance tenante—often to join in the choruses and make themselves quite at home during the whole spectacle. About a year afterwards the Carrillo was suppressed. The first Spaniards who systematically taught the Filipinos European histrionics were Ramon Cubero and his wife, Elisea Raguer (both very popular in their day), whose daughter married the Philippine actor and dramatic author JosÉ Carvajal. The old-fashioned native play was the “Moro Moro,” which continued in full vogue, in the provinces, up to the end of Spanish dominion.7

In the suburb of Paco there was a bull-ring, which did not generally attract the Élite, as a bull-fight there was simply a burlesque upon this national sport as seen in Spain. I have witnessed a Manila espada hang on to the tail of his victim, and a banderillero meet the rush of the bull with a vault over his head, amidst hoots from the shady class of audience who formed the habituÉs of the Manila ring.

The Civil Governor of the Province had full arbitrary power to enforce the regulations relating to public performances, but it was seldom he imposed a fine. The programme had to be sanctioned by authority before it was published, and it could neither be added to nor any part of it omitted, without special licence. The performance was given under the censorship of the Corregidor or his delegate, whose duty it was to guard the interests of the public, and to see that the spectacle did not outrage morality.

The ostensible purpose of every annual feast all over the Colony was to render homage to the local patron Saint and give thanks for mercies received in the past year. Every town, village, and suburb was supposed to be specially cared for by its patron Saint, and when circumstances permitted it there was a religious procession, which was intended to impress on the minds of the faithful the virtue of the intercessors by ocular demonstration. Vast sums of money were expended from time to time in adornment of the images, the adoration of which seemed to be tinctured with pantheistic feeling, as if these symbols were part of the Divine essence.

Among the suburban feasts of Manila, that of Binondo was particularly striking. It took place in the month of October. An imposing illuminated procession, headed by the clergy, guarded by troops, and followed up by hundreds of native men, women and children carrying candles, promenaded the principal streets of the vicinity. But the religious feeling of the truly devoted was shocked by one ridiculous feature—the mob of native men, dressed in gowns and head-wreaths, in representation of the Jews who persecuted our Saviour, rushing about the streets in tawdry attire before and after the ceremony in such apparent ignorance of the real intention that it annulled the sublimity of the whole function.

All Saints' Day—November 1—brought a large income to the priests in the most frequented parish churches. This is one of the days on which souls can be got out of Purgatory. The faithful flocked in mobs to the popular shrines, where an effort was made to place a lighted wax candle at the foot of the altar, and on bended knee to invoke the Saints' aid on behalf of their departed relatives and friends. But the crowd was so great that the pious were not permitted this consolation for more than two or three minutes. Sacristans made them move on, to leave room for new-comers, and their candles were then extinguished and collected in heaps, Chinese infidel coolies being sometimes employed to carry away the spoil to the parish priest's store. The wax was afterwards sold to dealers. One church is said to have collected on November 1, 1887, as much as 40 cwts., valued at ?37 per cwt. This day was a public holiday, and in the afternoon and evening it was the custom to visit the last resting-places, to leave a token of remembrance on the tombs of the lamented.

The Asylum for Lepers, at Dalumbayan, in the ward of Santa Cruz, was also visited the same day, and whilst many naturally went there to see their afflicted relations and friends, others, of morbid tastes, satisfied their curiosity. This Asylum, subsidized by Government to the extent of ?500 per annum, was, in the time of the Spaniards, under the care of Franciscan friars.

In January or February the Chinese celebrate their New Year, and suspend work during a week or ten days. The authorities did not permit them to revel in fun to the extent they would have done in their own country; nevertheless, Chinese music, gongs, and crackers were indulged in, in the quarters most thickly populated by this race.

The natives generally have an unbounded passion for cock-fighting, and in the year 1779 it occurred to the Government that a profitable revenue might be derived from a tax on this sport. Thenceforth it was only permitted under a long code of regulations on Sundays and feast days, and in places officially designated for the “meet” of the combatants. In Manila alone the permission to meet was extended to Thursdays. The cock-pit is called the Gallera, and the tax was farmed out to the highest bidding contractor, who undertook to pay a fixed annual sum to the Government, making the best he could for himself out of the gross proceeds from entrance-fees and sub-letting rents in excess of that amount. In like manner the Government farmed out the taxes on horses, vehicles, sale of opium, slaughter of animals for consumption, bridge-tolls, etc., and, until 1888, the market dues. Gambling licences also brought a good revenue, but it would have been as impossible to suppress cock-fighting in the Islands as gambling in England.8

The Spanish laws relating to the cock-pit were very strict, and were specially decreed on March 21,1861. It was enacted that the maximum amount to be staked by one person on one contest should be 50 pesos. That each cock should wear only one metal spur. That the fight should be held to be terminated on the death of one or both cocks, or when one of them retreated. However, the decree contained in all a hundred clauses too tedious to enumerate. Cock-fighting is discussed among the natives with the same enthusiasm as horse-racing is in England. The majority of sportsmen rear cocks for several years, bestowing upon them as much tender care as a mother would on her infant. When the hope of the connoisseur has arrived at the age of discretion and valour, it is put forward in open combat, perhaps to perish in the first encounter. And the patient native goes on training others.

Within twenty minutes' drive from Manila, at NagtÁjan, on the right bank of the Pasig River, there was a good European club (since removed to Ermita), of which the members were chiefly English-speaking merchants and employees. The entrance-fee was [Pesos]30; the monthly subscription was [Pesos]5, and [Pesos]1 per month extra for the use of a fairly good library.

The principal hotel—the “Hotel de Oriente”—was opened in Binondo in January, 1889, in a large two-storeyed building, with 83 rooms for the public service, and stabling for 25 horses. It was the first building specially erected in the Colony for an hotel. The accommodation and board were good. It ranked with the best hotels in the East. [In 1903 the building was purchased by the (American) Insular Government for public offices.] In Manila City and Binondo there were several other Spanish hotels where the board was tolerable, but the lodging and service abominable. There was a telephone system established throughout the city and its environs.

The press was represented by five dailies—El Diario de Manila, La Oceania EspaÑola, three evening papers, El Comercio, La Voz de EspaÑa, and (from March 3, 1889) La Correspondencia de Manila—also a bi-weekly, La Opinion. Some good articles appeared at times in the three dailies first mentioned, but as newspapers strictly so-called, the information in all was remarkably scant, due to the strict censorship exercised jointly by a priest and a layman. There was also a purely official organ—the Gaceta de Manila.

The first news-sheet published in Manila appears to have been the FilÁntropo, in the year 1822, which existed only a few years. Others followed and failed in a short time. The first Manila daily paper was the Estrella, which started in 1846 and lasted three years. Since then several dailies have seen the light for a brief period. The Diario de Manila, started in 1848, was the oldest newspaper of those existing at the end of the Spanish regime.

In Spain journalism began in the 17th century by the publication, at irregular intervals, of sheets called “Relaciones.” The first Spanish newspaper, correctly so called, was established in the 18th century. Seventy-eight years ago there was only one regular periodical journal in Madrid. After the Peninsula War, a step was made towards political journalism. This led to such an abuse of the pen that in 1824 all, except the Gaceta de Madrid, the Gaceta de Bayona, the Diario, and a few non-political papers were suppressed. Madrid has now scores of newspapers, of which half a dozen are very readable. The Correspondencia de EspaÑa, founded by the late Marquis de Santa Ana as a Montpensier organ, used to afford me great amusement in Madrid. It contained columns of most extraordinary events in short paragraphs (gacetillas), and became highly popular, hundreds of persons eagerly waiting to secure a copy. In a subsequent issue, a few days later, many of the paragraphs in the same columns were merely corrections of the statements previously published, but so ingeniously interposed that the hoax took the public for a long time. Newspapers from Spain were not publicly exposed for sale in Manila; those which were seen came from friends or by private subscription, whilst many were proscribed as inculcating ideas dangerously liberal.

There was a botanical garden, rather neglected, although it cost the Colony about ?8,600 per annum. The stock of specimens was scanty, and the grounds were deserted by the general public. It was at least useful in one sense—that bouquets were supplied at once to purchasers at cheap rates, from 25 cents and upwards.

In the environs of Manila there are several pleasant drives and promenades, the most popular one being the Luneta, where a military band frequently played after sunset. The Gov.-General's palace9 and the residences of the foreign European population and well-to-do natives and Spaniards were in the suburbs of the city outside the commercial quarter. Some of these private villas were extremely attractive, and commodiously designed for the climate, but little attention was paid until quite the latter days to architectural beauty.

Very few of the best private residences have more than one storey above the ground-floor. The ground-floor is either uninhabited or used for lodging the native servants, or as a coach-house, on account of the damp. From the vestibule main entrance (zaguan) one passes to the upper floor, which constitutes the house proper, where the family resides. It is usually divided into a spacious hall (caida), leading from the staircase to the dining and reception-rooms; on one or two sides of these apartments are the dormitories and other private rooms. The kitchen is often a separate building, connected with the house by a roofed passage; and by the side of the kitchen, on the same level, is a yard called the azotea—here the bath-room is erected. The most modern houses have corrugated-iron roofs. The ground-floor exterior walls are of stone or brick, and the whole of the upper storey is of wood, with sliding windows all around. Instead of glass, opaque oyster-shells (TagÁlog, cÁpis) are employed to admit the light whilst obstructing the sun's rays. Formerly the walls up to the roof were of stone, but since the last great earthquake of 1880 the use of wood from the first storey upwards has been rigorously enforced in the capital and suburbs for public safety. Iron roofs are very hot, and there are still some few comfortable, spacious, and cool suburban residences with tile roof or with the primitive cogon-grass or nipa palm-leaf thatching, very conducive to comfort although more liable to catch fire.

In Spanish times there were no white burglars, and the main entrance of a dwelling-house was invariably left open until the family retired for the night. Mosquitoes abound in Manila, coming from the numerous malarious creeks which traverse the wards, and few persons can sleep without a curtain. To be at one's ease, a daily bath is indispensable. The heat from 12 to 4 p.m. is oppressive from March to May, and most persons who have no afternoon occupation, sleep the siesta from 1 to 3 o'clock. The conventional lunch-hour all over the Colony is noon precisely, and dinner at about 8 o'clock. The visiting hours are from 5 to 7 in the evening, and rÉunions and musical soirÉes from 9. Society was far less divided here than in the British-Asiatic Colonies. There was not the same rigid line drawn as in British India between the official, non-official, and native. Spaniards of the best families in the capital endeavoured, with varying success, to europeanize the people of the country, and many of them exchanged visits with half-breeds, and at times with wealthy pure natives. Spanish hospitality in the Philippines was far more marked than in Europe, and educated foreigners were generally received with great courtesy.

Since the year 1884 the city and suburbs are well supplied with good drinking-water, which is one of the most praiseworthy modern improvements undertaken by the Spanish Government. To provide for this beneficial work, a Spanish philanthropist, named Carriedo—a late commander of an Acapulco galleon—left a sum of money in the 18th century, in order that the capital and accumulated interest might one day defray the expense. The water supply (brought from SantÓlan, near Mariquina), being more than sufficient for general requirements, the city and suburbs were, little by little, adorned with several public fountains. Although Manila lies low the climate is healthy, and during several years of personal observation I found the average maximum and minimum temperature at noon in the shade to be 98° and 75° Fahr. respectively. The climate of Manila may be generally summed up as follows, viz.:—December, January, and February, a delightful spring; March, April, and May, an oppressive heat; June, July, August, and September, heavy rains and more tolerable heat; October and November, doubtful—sometimes very wet, sometimes fairly dry. Briefly, as to climate, it is a pleasant place to reside in.

In 1593 Manila already had a coat-of-arms, with the title of “Muy Insigne y siempre leal Ciudad” and in the beginning of the 17th century King Philip III. conferred upon it the title of “La muy noble Ciudad ”; hence it was lately styled “La muy noble y siempre leal Ciudad” (the very noble and always loyal city).

According to GironniÈre,10 the civilized population of this Colony in 1845 was as follows, namely:—

In the last Spanish census, taken in 1876, the total number of inhabitants, including Europeans and Chinese, was shown to be a little under 6,200,000, but a fixed figure cannot be relied upon because it was impossible to estimate exactly the number of unsubdued savages and mountaineers, who paid no taxes. The increase of native population was rated at about two per cent, per annum, except in the Negrito or Aeta tribes, which are known to be decreasing.

In Manila City and wards it is calculated there were in 1896 about 340,000 inhabitants, of which the ratio of classes was approximately the following, namely:—

The walled city alone contained a population of about 16,000 souls.

Typhoons affect Manila more or less severely about once a year, nearly always between April and middle of December, and sometimes cause immense destruction to property. Roofs of houses are carried away; the wooden upper-storey frontages are blown out; ships are torn from their moorings; small craft laden with merchandise are wrecked, and the inhabitants flee from the streets to make fast their premises, and await in intense anxiety the conclusion of the tempest. A hurricane of this description desolated Manila in October, 1882, and, at the same time, the wind was accompanied by torrents of rain, which did great damage to the interiors of the residences, warehouses, and offices. A small house, entirely made of wood, was blown completely over, and the natives who had taken refuge on the ground-floor were left, without a moment's notice, with the sky for a roof. Two Chinamen, who thought to take advantage of the occasion and economically possess themselves of galvanized-iron roofing, had their heads nearly severed by sheets of this material flying through the air, and their dead bodies were picked up in the Rosario the next morning. I was busy with the servants all that day in my house, in the unsuccessful attempt to fasten the windows and doors. Part of the kitchen was carried away; water came in everywhere; and I had to wait patiently, with an umbrella over me, until the storm ceased. The last similarly destructive hurricane, affecting Manila, occurred on September 26, 1905.

Manila is also in constant danger of destruction from earthquakes. The most serious one within the last century occurred in June, 1863. The shock lasted half a minute, and the falling dÉbris of the upheaved buildings caused 400 deaths, whilst 2,000 persons were wounded. The total loss of property on that occasion was estimated at ? 8,000,000. Official returns show that 46 public edifices were thrown down; 28 were nearly destroyed; 570 private buildings were wrecked, and 528 were almost demolished. Simultaneously, an earthquake occurred in Cavite—the port and arsenal south-west of Manila—destroying several public buildings. In 1898 many of the ruins caused by this earthquake were still left undisturbed within the City of Manila. In 1863 the best buildings had heavy tiled roofs, and many continued so, in spite of the severe lesson, until after the shock of 1880, when galvanized corrugated iron came into general use for roofing, and, in fact, no one in Manila or Binondo now builds a house without it.

In 1880 no lives were lost, but the damage to house property was considerable. The only person who suffered physically from this calamity was an Englishman, Mr. Parker, whose arm was so severely injured that it was found necessary to amputate it.

Prior to 1863 the most serious earthquakes recorded happened in November, 1610; November, 1645; August, 1658; in 1675; in 1699; in 1796, and in 1852. Consequent on the shock of 1645, all the public buildings were destroyed excepting one monastery and two churches, some 600 persons were killed, and the Gov.-General was extricated from the ruins of his palace. 11According to the Jesuit Father Faura, Director of the Manila Observatory, the following slight quakes occurred in 1881, viz.:—3 in July, 7 in August, 10 in September, and 3 in October. Earth-tremors almost imperceptible are so frequent in these Islands that one hardly heeds them after a few months' residence.

In a cosmopolitan city like Manila—the temporary home of so many different races—it was interesting to observe the varied wearing-apparel in vogue. The majority of the Spaniards wore the European costume; the British generally dressed in white drill, with the coat buttoned up to the neck, and finished off with a narrow collar of the same material. The Chinese always preserved their own peculiar national dress—the most rational of all—with the pig-tail coiled into a chignon. The pure natives and many half-breeds wore the shirt outside the trousers. It was usually white, with a long stiff front, and cut European fashion; but often it was made of an extremely fine yellow-tinted expensive material, called piÑa (vide p. 283). Some few of the native jeunesse dorÉe of Manila donned the European dress, much to their apparent discomfort. The official attire of the headman of a Manila ward and his subordinates was a shirt with the tail outside the trousers, like other natives or half-breeds, but over which was worn the official distinction of a short Eton jacket, reaching to the hips. All this is now changing, with a tendency to imitate the Americans.

A native woman wore, as she does now, a flowing skirt of gay colours—bright red, green, and white being the common choice. The length of train, and whether the garment be of cotton, silk, or satin, depends on her means. Corsets are not yet the fashion, but a chemisette, which just covers her breast, and a starched neckcloth (paÑuelo) of piÑa or husi stuff are in common use. The paÑuelo is square, and, being folded triangularly, it hangs in a point down the back and stands very high up at the neck, in the 17th century style, whilst the other two points are brooched where they meet at the top of the chemisette dÉcolletÉe. To this chemisette are added immensely wide short sleeves. Her hair is brushed back from the forehead, without a parting, and coiled into a tight, flat chignon. In her hand she carries a fan, without which she would feel lost. Native women have an extravagant desire to possess jewellery—even if they never wear it. The head is covered with a white mantle of very thin material, sometimes figured, but more often this and the neckcloth are embroidered—a work in which they excel. Finally, her naked feet are partly enveloped in chinelas—a kind of slipper, flat, like a shoe-sole with no heel, but just enough upper in front to put four toes inside. Altogether, the appearance of a Philippine woman of well-to-do family dressed on a gala day is curious, sometimes pretty, but, in any case, admirably suited to the climate.

Since 1898 American example, the great demand for piÑa muslin, at any price, by American ladies, and the scarcity of this texture, due to the plants having been abandoned during the wars, have necessarily brought about certain modifications in female attire.

There is something very picturesque in the simple costume of a peasant woman going to market. She has no flowing gown, but a short skirt, enveloped in a tÁpis, generally of cotton. It is simply a rectangular piece of stuff; as a rule, all blue, red, or black. It is tucked in at the waist, drawn very tightly around the loins, and hangs over the skirt a little below the knees, the open edges being at the back.

At times the better class wear the more becoming short skirt and tÁpis of silk or satin, with gold-lace embroidered chinelas. This dress is elegant, and adds a charm to the wearer.

The tÁpi is smaller. It is not used in the street; it is a sort of nÉgligÉ apparel worn in the house only, or for going to the bath. The poorest classes go to the river-side to bathe in it. It is drawn all around from the waist downwards.

The patadiong is more commonly worn by the Visaya than the northern woman. It is somewhat like the tÁpis, but is drawn round the waist from the back, the open edges meeting, more or less, at the front. In Luzon Island the old women generally prefer this to the tÁpis.

On feast days and special occasions, or for dances, the young women who can afford it sport the gaudy flowing gown of bright particoloured striped silk or satin, known as the saya suelta, with the train cut in a peculiar fashion unknown in Europe.

The figure of a peasant woman is erect and stately, due to her habit from infancy of carrying jars of water, baskets of orchard produce, etc., on her head with a pad of coiled cloth. The characteristic bearing of both sexes, when walking, consists in swinging the arms (but more often the right arm only) to and fro far more rapidly than the stride, so that it gives them the appearance of paddling.

A “first class” Manila funeral, before the American advent, was a whimsical display of pompous ignorance worth seeing once. There was a hideous bier with rude relics of barbarism in the shape of paltry adornments. A native driver, with a tall “chimney pot” hat, full of salaried mournfulness, drove the white team. The bier was headed by a band of music playing a lively march, and followed by a line of carriages containing the relations and friends of the deceased. The burial was almost invariably within twenty-four hours of the decease—sometimes within six hours.

There is nothing in Manila which instantly impresses one as strikingly national, whether it be in artistic handicraft, music, painting, sculpture, or even diversions. The peculiar traditional customs of an Eastern people—their native dress, their characteristic habits, constitute—by their originality and variation, the only charm to the ordinary European traveller. The Manila middle-class native, in particular, possesses none of this. He is but a vivid contrast to his vivacious Spanish model, a striking departure from his own picturesque aboriginal state, and an unsuccessful imitator of the grace and easy manners of his Western tutor. In short, he is neither one thing nor the other in its true representation compared with the genial, genuine, and natural type to be found in the provinces.

Many years' residence in Manila, or in any one particular locality of the Archipelago, will not enable either the alien or the native to form a just opinion of the physical, social, or economic conditions of the Colony; they can only be understood after extensive travelling through and around the Islands. Nor will three or four tours suffice for the intelligent inquirer, because first impressions often lead to false conclusions; information obtained through one source must needs be verified by another; the danger of mistaking isolated cases for general rules has to be avoided, and, lastly, the native does not reveal to the first-time traveller the intricacies of Philippine life. Furthermore, the traveller in any official capacity is necessarily the least informed person concerning the real thought and aspirations of the Filipino or true Philippine life; his position debars him from the opportunity of investigating these things.

It would be beyond the scope of this work to take the reader mentally through the thousand or more miles of lovely scenery, and into the homes of the unsophisticated classes who still preserve, unalloyed, many of their natural characteristics and customs. But within half a day's journey from the capital there are many places of historical interest, among which, on account of its revived popularity since the American advent, may be mentioned Los BaÑos, on the south shore of the Laguna de Bay.

Los BaÑos (the baths) owes its origin to the hot springs flowing from the volcanic MaquÍling Mountain, which have been known to the natives from time immemorial when the place was called Maynit, which signifies “hot.”

At the close of the 16th century these mineral waters attracted the attention of Martyr Saint Pedro Bautista (vide p. 64), who sent a brother of his Order to establish a hospital for the natives. The brother went there, but shortly returned to Manila and died. So the matter remained in abeyance for years. Subsequently a certain Fray Diego de Santa Maria, an expert in medicine and the healing art, was sent there to test the waters. He found they contained properties highly beneficial in curing rheumatism and certain other maladies, so thenceforth many natives and Spaniards went there to seek bodily relief. But there was no convenient abode for the visitors; no arrangements for taking the baths, and the Government did nothing. A Franciscan friar was appointed chaplain to the sick visitors, but his very incommodious residence was inadequate for the lodging of patients, and, for want of funds, the priest abandoned the project of establishing a hospital, and returned to Manila. In 1604 the Gov.-General, Pedro Bravo de AcuÑa, gave his attention to this place, and consented to the establishment of a hospital, church, and convent. The hospital was constructed of bamboo and other light material, and dedicated to Our Lady of Holy Waters.

Fray Diego de Santa Maria was appointed to the vicarage and the charge of the hospital. The whole was supported by gifts from the many sick persons who went there, but the greatest difficulty was to procure food. Several natives made donations of lands, with the produce of which the hospital was to be maintained. These gifts, however, proved insufficient. The priests then solicited permission from the villagers of Pila (on the lake shore near Santa Cruz) to pasture cattle on the tongue of land on the opposite coast called Jalajala, which belonged to them. With their consent a cattle-ranche was established there; subsequently, a building was erected, and the place was in time known as the Estancia de Jalajala. Then the permission was asked for and obtained from the Pila natives to plant cocoanut palms, fruit-trees, and vegetables. Later on the Austin and Franciscan friars quarrelled about the right of dominion over the place and district called Maynit, but eventually the former gave way and ceded their alleged rights in perpetuity to the Franciscans.

In 1640 Los BaÑos (formerly a dependency of Bay, under the Austin friars) was constituted a “town.” The Franciscans continued to beg one concession after another, until at length, in 1671, stone buildings were commenced—a church, convent, hospital, bathing-pond, vapour-house, etc., being constructed. Natives and Europeans flocked in numbers to these baths, and it is said that people even came from India to be cured. The property lent and belonging to the establishment, the accumulated funds, and the live-stock had all increased so much in value that the Government appointed an administrator. Thenceforth the place declined; its popularity vanished; the administrator managed matters so particularly for his own benefit that food again became scarce, and the priest was paid only 10 pesos per month as salary. In Jalajala a large house was built; the land was put under regular cultivation; tenants were admitted; but when the property was declared a royal demesne the Pila inhabitants protested, and nominally regained possession of the lent property. But the administrator re-opened and contested the question in the law-courts, and, pending these proceedings, Jalajala was rented from the Government. During this long process of legal entanglements the property had several times been transferred to one and another until the last holder regarded it as his private estate.

At the beginning of last century Jalajala came into the possession of M. Paul de la GironniÈre, from whom it passed to another Frenchman, at whose death a third Frenchman, M. Jules Daillard, became owner. On his decease it became the property of an English Bank, from whom it was purchased by the Franciscan friars, in 1897, for the sum of ?.50,000, and re-sold by them to a Belgian firm in 1900.

The bathing establishment was gradually falling into decay, until its complete ruin was brought about by a fire, which left only the remnant of walls. The priest continued there as nominal chaplain with his salary of 10 pesos per month and an allowance of rice. The establishment was not restored until the Government of Domingo Moriones (1877–80). A vapour bath-house and residence were built, but the hospital was left unfinished, and it was rotting away from neglect when the Spaniards evacuated the Islands.

The portion of the Hospital of Los BaÑos which remained intact, and the house attached thereto, which the natives called “the palace,” served to accommodate invalids who went to take the cure. These baths should only be taken in the dry season—December to May.

Besides the convent and church the town simply consisted of a row of dingy bungalows on either side of the highroad, with a group of the same on the mountain side. Since the American advent the place has been much improved and extended.

On his way from Manila to Los BaÑos the traveller will pass (on the left bank of the Pasig River) the ruins of Guadalupe Church, which mark the site of a great massacre of Chinese during their revolt in 1603 (vide p. 114). The following legend of this once beautiful and popular church was given to me by the Recoleto friars at the convent of the Church of La Soledad, in Cavite:—During the construction of the world-famed Escorial, by order of PhilipII., the architect's nephew, who was employed by his uncle on the work, killed a man. The King pardoned him on condition that he be banished to the Philippines. He therefore came to Manila, took holy orders, and designed and superintended the building of Guadalupe Church, from the scaffolding of which he fell, and having been caught by the neck in a rope suspended from the timbers he was hanged.

During the wars of the Rebellion and Independence this ancient building was destroyed, only the shot-riddled and battered outer walls remaining in 1905.