When Magellan in the spring of 1521 took formal possession of Mindanao, one of the largest of the Philippine group, he was surrounded by crowds of the curious brown-skinned natives of that island; with sensations of awe, they watched their strange white visitors, believing them to be angels of light. It was Easter-week, and the Spanish discoverers, with all the ritualistic splendor of the mass, dedicated the newly-found islands to God and the Church.

The natives, too, manifested great friendliness to the tempest-tossed mariners. Indeed, one of their most prominent chieftains himself piloted the exploring party to CebÚ, where thousands of natives, arrayed in all the barbarous paraphernalia of savagery, stood on the beach, and, with their spears and shields, menaced the strangers.

The Mindanao chieftain, who had acted as pilot, thereupon went on shore and volunteered an explanation: these strange voyagers were seeking rest and provisions, having been many weary months away from their own country.

A treaty of amity was then ratified according to their native custom, each party thereto simultaneously drawing and drinking blood from the breast of the other. Magellan then caused a rude chapel to be built on this new and hospitable shore, and here the natives witnessed the first rites of that Church that, within a century, extended its oppressive sway from one end of the Archipelago to the other.

The King and Queen of the natives were soon persuaded to accept the rite of baptism. This they seemed to enjoy greatly. To persuade the good-natured savages to take the oath of allegiance to the King of far-away Spain was but a step farther. One ceremony was probably as intelligible to them as the other; and thus the first two links in the fetters of the Filipinos had been forged.

With characteristic arrogance the Spaniards henceforth conducted themselves as the rightful masters of both the confiding natives and their opulent country.

It appears, now, that the natives of CebÚ were engaged in war with another tribe on the island of Magtan. The adventurous Magellan, beholding an opportunity for conquest, and, perhaps, for profit, accompanied his allies into battle, where he was mortally wounded by an arrow.

Thus perished the brave and brilliant discoverer, in the very bloom of life, when both fame and fortune seemed to have laid their most precious offerings at his feet.

Posterity has erected a monument on the very spot where this hero was slain. CebÚ also boasts an obelisk that commemorates the discovery; while on the left bank of the Pasig river, Manila, stands another testimonial to the splendid achievements of the intrepid Magellan.

Duarte de Barbosa was now chosen leader of the expedition, and he, with twenty-six companions, was invited to a banquet by Hamabar, the King of the island. In the midst of the royal festivities the Spaniards were treacherously murdered. Juan Serrano alone—so the old chronicles relate—was spared. He had, in some way, secured the favor of the natives, and now, stripped of his clothing and his armor, he was made to walk up and down the beach, in full view of his companions on board the ships.

For his person the natives shrewdly demanded a ransom of two of the Spanish cannon. A consultation was held among the Spaniards, and it was decided that it was better that one should perish than that the lives of all be jeoparded. And so Serrano was left to his fate.

Reduced, at last, to about 100 men and two ships, the Spaniards decided to return home. The captain of one of these—of the Victoria—was Juan Sebastian Elcano. This gallant sailor, after losing many brave companions and meeting many thrilling adventures, at last brought his ship safely to a Spanish port—three years after he had embarked, en route to the Moluccas, under his first commander, the unfortunate Magellan.

When Elcano and his seventeen companions landed in Spain, they were mere skeletons, so reduced were they by hunger and disease. Everywhere they were received with acclamations of joy, and upon their arrival in Seville they straightway proceeded to the Cathedral, where, amid grand Te Deums, they gave thanks to God for their return.

It must, indeed, have been a strange sight to see this remnant, these gaunt survivors of the splendid company of adventurers that had left that city but three years before,—flaming with zeal for the spread of the Church, and glowing in the desire of conquest,—these few half-starved wretches, now walking barefooted, with lighted candles, through the streets,—all that was left of that eager throng.

And yet, pitiable as they were, they must have been conscious of an achievement that meant glory for their country and immortality for themselves.

Nor were they unrewarded. All received food and money, and Elcano, the leader, was voted a life-pension of 500 ducats; and, in token of his great accomplishment in having first circumnavigated the globe, the King knighted him, awarding him, as his escutcheon, a globe with the motto: “Primus circundedit me.”

The cargo of the Victoria consisted of 26½ tons of cloves and other spices: cinnamon, sandalwood, nutmegs, and so forth. It is said that one of the Tidor islanders, brought back with the expedition, who was presented to the King, was never permitted to return to his home, because he had committed the blunder of making inquiry regarding the value of spices in the Spanish markets.

The Trinidad, the other vessel of this remarkable expedition, after many terrible hardships, fell into the hands of the Portuguese, who sent the survivors to Lisbon. They reached that port five years after their departure with Magellan.

The enthusiasm of the Spanish monarch and his subjects on account of these remarkable discoveries was unbounded. Other expeditions to the islands were soon fitted out. One, under the leadership of Ruy Lopez de Villalobos, gave to them the name of the Philippine Islands. This was in honor of Philip, Prince of Austria, the son of King Charles I., heir-apparent to the throne of Castile; to which, in 1555, upon the abdication of his father, he succeeded as Philip II.

This bigot, convinced by his religious advisers of the importance of winning the newly-discovered islands for the Church, caused another expedition to be fitted out from Navidad, in the South Sea.

Accordingly, Miguel Lopez de Legaspi, a well-known Basque navigator, of great piety, and with a reputation for probity and ability, set out with four ships and one frigate, all well armed and carrying 800 soldiers and sailors. Six priests also accompanied them. One was Urdaneta, who had formerly sailed as a captain to the Moluccas. The avowed object of the expedition was to subjugate and to Christianize the benighted natives of those islands.

After a propitious voyage, not without incident, General Legaspi resolved to cast anchor at CebÚ, a safe port. On the way the ships stopped at the port of Dapitan, on the island of Mindanao. Prince Pagbuaya, the ruler of this island, was so astonished at the sight of these large ships off the coast of his country, that he commanded one of his subjects, who had some reputation for boldness, to observe their movements and to report his observations.

He did. They were manned, he said, by enormous men with long, pointed noses; that these strange beings were dressed in fine robes, and actually ate stones (hard sea-biscuits); most wonderful of all, they drank fire, and blew smoke out of their mouths and through their nostrils—referring, of course, to their drinking and smoking. He also said that they could command the thunder and the lightning—meaning their fire-arms;—that their proud bearing, their bearded faces, and splendid attire, moreover, surely proclaimed them to be gods.

Having heard this report, the Prince, accordingly, thought it not unwise to treat with these wonderful beings. Legaspi not only succeeded in obtaining provisions—in barter for European wares—from this chief, but he also obtained much useful information about his destination, CebÚ. He learnt that it was considered a powerful kingdom, whose greatness was much feared by other States, and that its port was not only safe, but also favorably situated.

The General, therefore, determined to annex it to the Crown of Castile at the earliest opportunity. He landed at CebÚ April 27th, 1565, and immediately began negotiations with the natives.

These, however, remembering their successful resistance to Magellan’s party but a generation before, opposed every advance of the Spaniards. The latter, notwithstanding, finally took possession of the town, and sacked it; but for months they were so harassed by the chief and his subjects that they were several times on the point of retiring. Legaspi, however, decided to remain, and the natives, growing accustomed to their presence, gradually yielded to the new order of things; and thus the first step in the conquest of the islands was made. The people were declared Spanish subjects. Happy at his success, Legaspi determined to send the news at once to Spain. Urdaneta was therefore commissioned to bear the despatches. In due time he arrived at his destination.

Legaspi, meanwhile, steadily and successfully pursued the conquest of CebÚ and surrounding islands. He succeeded most admirably also in winning the confidence of the natives. Their dethroned King Tupas was baptized, and his daughter married one of the Spaniards. Other alliances also were made, which bound the two races together.

The Portuguese, the natural enemies of Spanish exploration and conquest, now appeared on the scene and attempted, in vain, to dispute the possession of the successful invaders. The Spaniards then built a fort, and plots of land were marked out for the building of houses for the colonists. In 1570 CebÚ was declared a city, and Legaspi, by special grant from the King, received the title of Governor-General of all the lands that he might be so fortunate as to conquer.

Soon afterward, Captain Juan Saicedo, Legaspi’s grandson, was sent to the island of Luzon to reconnoiter the territory and to bring it into subjection to Spain. Martin de Goiti and a few soldiers accompanied him. They were well received by the various chiefs they visited. Among these were King Lacandola, the Rajah of Tondo, and his nephew, the stern young Rajah Soliman, of Manila. Intimidated by the countenances of the warlike-looking foreigners, and awed by the mysterious symbols of their priests, these superstitious chiefs agreed forever, for no consideration, and without reservation, to yield up their independence, to pay tribute, and to aid in the subjugation of their own countrymen. A treaty of peace having been made, the Spaniards acted as if they were the natural owners of the soil.

Young Soliman, however, soon found occasion to demonstrate that he, at least, had no intention of carrying out his part of this enforced contract. He sowed the seeds of insurrection broadcast among the various surrounding tribes, and not only carried on an offensive warfare against the invaders, but set fire to his capital, Manila, that it might not become the spoil of the invaders. Soliman and his little army were put to flight by Salcedo, who generously pardoned the young chief upon his again swearing fealty to the King of Spain. Then, while Goiti with his forces remained in the vicinity of Manila, Salcedo pursued his adventurous way as far as the Taal district. All the country of the Batangas province was also subdued by him. About this time Salcedo himself, severely wounded by an arrow, returned to Manila.

Legaspi being informed of the occurrences in Luzon, soon joined Salcedo at CavitÉ, where chief Lacondola gave his submission. Legaspi, continuing his journey to Manila, was there received with much pomp and acclamation. He not only took formal possession of all the surrounding territory, but also declared Manila to be the capital of the whole Archipelago. He next publicly proclaimed the sovereignty of the King of Spain over all the islands.

Speaking of this period, the old chronicler, Gaspar de San Agustin, says: “He (Legaspi) ordered them (the natives) to finish the building of the fort in construction at the mouth of the river (Pasig), so that His Majesty’s artillery might be mounted therein for the defense of the port and the town. He also ordered them to build a large house inside the battlement walls for Legaspi’s own residence, and another large house and church for the priests.

“Besides building these two large houses, he told them to erect 150 dwellings of moderate size for the remainder of the Spaniards to live in. All this they promptly promised to do; but they did not obey; for the Spaniards were themselves obliged to complete the work of the fortifications.”

The City Council of Manila was constituted on the 24th June, 1571. On the 20th of August of the following year Miguel Lopez de Legaspi died. His was a most eventful, arduous life. His career was honorable, and he occupied a prominent place in the colonial history of his country. He was buried in the Augustine chapel of San Fausto in Manila, where his royal standard and armorial bearings hung until the occupation of the city by the British in 1763.

Guido de Lavezares succeeded Legaspi as Governor of the islands, and had not long taken possession when he had to defend them against the assaults of the celebrated Chinese corsair, Li-ma-hong.

This redoubtable Celestial had early shown a martial spirit, and became a member of a band of pirates that for many years infested the seas. Here he so distinguished himself by his prowess and cruelty that, upon the death of the leader, he was at once elected chief of the buccaneers. At length this Celestial Viking essayed an attack on the Philippines. It is said that he first heard of the remarkable wealth of the islands from the crew of a Chinese merchantman returning from Manila. After committing a few depredations along the coast, this Captain Kidd of the Chinese Main appeared before Manila on the 29th of November, 1594, with a fleet of 62 armed junks, manned by more than 2,000 sailors. Twenty-five hundred soldiers were also on board for effective warfare, and more than 2,000 Chinese artisans and women, with which he intended to found the colony that was to be the capital of his new Empire.

So secret was the landing of the Chinese, and so sudden was their attack, that they were already within the gates of the city before the Spaniards knew that they were at hand.

Martin de Goiti, second in command to the Governor, was the first to receive their attack; and, after a brave defense, he was killed with many of his soldiers. The flames from his burning residence gave the Governor himself his first intimation of the enemy’s presence. Flushed with success, Sioco, the Japanese leader of the buccaneers, then stormed the Fort of Santiago, where many Spanish soldiers had taken refuge. A small body of fresh troops coming to the aid of the besieged, the Chinese, after considerable loss, retreated, fearing that other reinforcements might follow and cut off their return to the ships.

It was now reported that Li-ma-hong himself, who, with the greater part of his force, was at CavitÉ, would lead the next assault. The inhabitants of Manila, therefore, awaited him in great terror.

Fortunately, however, that intrepid warrior, Juan Salcedo, fresh from his conquests in the north, now came to the city’s aid. Just about sunrise on the 3d of December the Chinese squadron again appeared in the bay near the capital. The Celestials disembarked, and, it is said, their leader, in an eloquent speech, incited his followers to the assault, with glowing promises of plunder.

Meantime, while the Chinese were forming into battle-line, within the walls of the city the drums and the trumpets of the Spaniards kept up an inspiring din, and all that were able to bear arms hastened to the defense. It was an important moment in the history of the colony,—an hour big with fate; for the coming battle would decide for either European or Asiatic domination.

Again Li-ma-hong chose his trusted lieutenant to lead the attack; and fifteen hundred picked troops, armed to the teeth, followed him, swearing to take the fort or leave their corpses as a testimonial to their valor.

The city was then set on fire in several places, and in three divisions the Chinese advanced to the attack, Li-ma-hong himself from the outside supporting them with a well-directed cannonade against the walls.

After a spirited assault, Sioco succeeded in entering the fort, and here a bloody hand-to-hand conflict took place. Again and again the Spaniards forced their fierce assailants over the walls; again and again the Chinese poured into the breaches, while the trembling non-combatants within the city awaited the result in agonized suspense.

Salcedo was at the front and everywhere. Time and again, with indomitable courage, he rallied his men; and splendidly did they respond to his magnificent leadership. The old Governor himself was at the front, shouting encouragement; and many prominent citizens also distinguished themselves by feats of remarkable heroism. The Chinese, once more, gathering their shattered numbers together, plunged into the ranks of their enemies, and it was not until after the loss of their daring leader that the few that remained turned their repulse into a disorderly flight, and Manila and the Philippines were saved to Spain and America. Salcedo now eagerly took the offensive and pursued the panic-stricken fugitives back to their ships, killing great numbers on the way.

In vain Li-ma-hong tried to regain his advantage. Troop after troop were sent ashore, only to join the rout and return confused and disorganized back to the fleet. The Spaniards had conquered.

Li-ma-hong, nevertheless, was determined to found his Empire and to set up his capital in another part of the islands—in the province of Pangasinan. Salcedo was accordingly despatched against him, but was unable to dislodge him. Hearing, however, that the Chinese Emperor also was about to send an expedition against him, the wily pirate secretly departed, leaving his Spanish enemies not at all displeased at being thus cheaply rid of his presence.

The friars, ever on the lookout for their own interests, attributed their deliverance to the aid of St. Andrew. He, therefore, was declared the Patron Saint of Manila—high mass in his honor being celebrated at 8 A. M. in the Cathedral every 30th of November.

The old chroniclers relate that some of the native chiefs took advantage of the disturbance to foment a rebellion against their Spanish conquerors; but all other disturbances were speedily quelled.

Civil disturbances, civil conflicts, now followed in the wake of these struggles against foreign aggression and domestic insurrection. In these internal dissensions, all branches of the Government took part. It was the Governor-General against the Supreme Court, the Supreme Court against the Clergy, the Clergy against All.

The Governor was censured for alleged undue exercise of arbitrary authority. The Supreme Court, patterned after the one in Mexico, was also accused of seeking to overstep the limits of its functions. Every law was reduced to the practise of a quibble, every quibble was administered with a dilatoriness that was destructive not only to all legitimate industry, but also to the encouragement and maintenance of order. To make matters even worse, the clergy, with their pretense of immunity from all State-control, interfered in all matters that promised profit. Indeed, there were few things out of which these wily friars were unable to extract a generous tithe.

The Chinese pirate had been taught a severe lesson, and had departed. The memory of his ravages, however, was still fresh in the minds of his conquerors when other buccaneers, far mere formidable and dangerous, appeared in the waters of the Philippines, threatening the peace and safety of the colonists.

Kindling with a desire for vengeance on their ancient foes the Spaniards, and flaming with greed for the richly-freighted Spanish argosies, the Dutch made repeated sallies from their secure retreat in the Moluccas, spreading terror in their wake. The galleons full of silver from Mexico, the ships laden with the comforts and luxuries of far-away Spain, fell a delightful prey into the hands of these remorseless freebooters, that never gave nor asked quarter. Many were the conflicts with these ruthless invaders, and many a rich prize did they tow away from the Philippine waters, while the angry Spaniards on shore stood transfixed,—in helpless misery.

Millions of dollars intended for the salaries of the Government officials and the troops, were thus stolen, and though the colonists were often victorious, yet the enemy, with characteristic Dutch audacity, refused to be defeated; in fact, he invariably reappeared with a new demonstration of bloody rapacity.

Upon one occasion a Dutch squadron anchored at the entrance of Manila Bay. It remained several months, seizing from time to time the merchantmen on their way to the Manila market. It thus secured an immense booty; its presence, too, becoming extremely prejudicial to trade and to the interests of the colony.

Juan de Silva, the Governor, therefore began to prepare an armament to drive these freebooters from the bay. One night he dreamt that St. Mark had offered to help him. Awaking, he consulted a priest about his dream, who interpreted it to be an omen of victory. On St. Mark’s day, accordingly, the Spaniards sallied forth to meet their hereditary foe; they sailed from CavitÉ with ten ships, carrying twenty guns. Over 1,000 Europeans and a large number of natives manned this fleet, the latter being religiously told that the Dutch were infidels, and, therefore, deserved extermination.

Once more the possession of the colony was to be decided. This time the conflict was to be between two rival nations from the same continent,—between Protestant and Catholic. The clergy, hence, were keenly alive to its importance: mass was said in all the churches, bells were tolled, and images of the Patron Saints of the colony were daily paraded through the streets.

The Governor himself took command, and incited his followers to martial order by proclaiming St. Mark’s promised intercession. From his ship he unfurled the royal standard,—on which the image of the Virgin was conspicuously embroidered,—to give encouragement to the eyes of the faithful. He then gave the signal for the advance, and they swiftly bore down upon the enemy. The Dutch were quietly awaiting the attack, and the conflict was fierce and sanguinary. It was a calm, beautiful day; but the calmness soon gave place to the thundering turbulence of battle, and the beauty soon became the ugliness of war.

The contest lasted about six hours, and the Dutch, unable longer to cope against odds so overwhelming, were finally vanquished; their three ships were destroyed, and their flags, artillery, and plundered merchandise to the value of $300,000 were seized.

This important struggle is known in the history of the islands as the battle of Playa Honda. Had it ended otherwise, it is probable that the Philippines would have been for the Dutch another Java, and a most interesting problem would not have sought solution at the hands of the American people.

Several other engagements with the Dutch occurred at different times; first one, then the other side being victorious. And thus for over a century the contest continued, until by the Peace of Westphalia, in 1648, Holland’s independence was fully established, her impoverished and weakened foe being forced to a tardy recognition of what had been an obstinate fact for many years.

The struggling colony was menaced by yet another foe. Early commercial relations had been entered into with the Japanese, who had established one or two trading-settlements in different parts of Luzon. It was not long, therefore, before the news of the Spanish occupation of the Philippines reached the Emperor of Japan. Accordingly, in 1593, he sent an ultimatum to the Governor-General, demanding his surrender, and that he acknowledge him as his liege lord.

The Japanese Ambassador, Farranda Kiemon, was received with great honor, and treated with all the deference due to a royal envoy: the colonists were not yet strong enough to manifest a high degree of independence when threatened by so powerful a foe. So the Governor prudently resorted to diplomacy. He replied, that, being but a vassal of the King of Spain, a most powerful and opulent sovereign, he was prevented from giving homage to any other monarch; that his first duty, naturally, was to defend the colony against invasion; that he should, however, be happy to make a Treaty of Commerce with His Majesty, and would, accordingly, send several envoys to his capital to treat concerning the same.

This done, it is related, the Spaniards were received in great state. The treaty was then adjusted to the satisfaction of both parties.

Unfortunately, however, these envoys, returning homeward, were drowned, and shortly afterward two religious embassies were sent to Japan to renew the treaty and to convert the benighted inhabitants of that country to God and the true Church. After thirty days, sailing they arrived at their destination. The friar Pedro Bautista, chief of the embassy, was now presented to the Emperor Taycosama, and the treaty was renewed. The most important feature of this agreement was the permission to build a chapel at Meaco, near Osaka. This was opened with ceremonial pomp in 1594.

Now the chief of the Jesuits—the sect were by royal favor allowed to follow their calling among the Portuguese traders in Nagasaki—bitterly opposed what he deemed the exclusive right of his order, conceded by Pope Gregory XIII., and confirmed by Imperial decree.

The Portuguese traders, foreseeing that the arrival of Bautista and his priests was but a prelude to Spanish domination,—when they, naturally, would be the sufferers,—forewarned the Governor of Nagasaki.

The Emperor was alarmed; for he now also became convinced that the Philippine Ambassadors were actuated to missionary zeal by ulterior motives; and, fearing that the priests, by their doctrines, might pollute the fountain of his ancient religion,—thus paving the way for their domination and his own ultimate ruin,—he at once commanded that all attempts to convert the natives must cease. Bautista, in holy zeal, not heeding the Imperial injunction, was expelled, and retired to Luzon, leaving several of his embassy behind. Some of these also, obstinately persisting in violating the Imperial mandate, were arrested and imprisoned.

Upon his arrival in Manila, Bautista fitted out another expedition, and soon again landed in Japan with a company of Franciscans.

The indignant Emperor, convinced of the duplicity of the Spaniards, caused them to be seized and cast into prison. A few natives, who had forsaken the religion of their forefathers for the discord-breeding doctrines of the foreigners, were also apprehended. All—twenty-six in number—were then condemned to death. After their ears and noses had been cut off, they were exhibited in various towns, as a warning to the other foreigners and to the populace. Upon the breast of each hung a board, that announced the sentence of the wearer and the reasons for his punishment. They were then crucified, and, after lingering for several hours in great agony, were speared to death.

The colony was much perturbed when the news of the sad fate of the zealous Franciscans reached Manila. Special masses were said, and processions of monks daily paraded through the streets.

The Governor was finally prevailed on to send a deputation to Japan for the bodies of the executed priests; for the relics of these martyrs were fraught with too many possibilities of profit to their co-religionists to be left in a foreign country in ignominious sepulture. It is related, also, that these envoys were entertained most royally, and the Emperor gave them a long letter to the Governor, justifying with many reasons the late execution and his vigorous policy. It seems, however, that the relics were lost on the homeward voyage. Notwithstanding, many priests soon ventured to Japan, to court a martyr’s doom and to furnish relics for the adoration of their superstitious countrymen. Hence, it is not surprising that a great many other similar executions afterward took place.

Incensed at these frequent and persistent violations of his well-founded prohibition, the Emperor finally refused to treat with the embassies sent from the colony; and, as he and his successors continued to enforce their stern decrees, the transportation of Spanish priests to Japan was finally prohibited. Had the Japanese been less severe, less astute, it is highly probable that all the evil consequences that they foresaw,—as a result of the Christian propaganda,—would really have taken place. As it was, they saved both their religion and their Empire.