The Former Philippines thru Foreign Eyes
by
Fedor Jagor; Tomas de Comyn; Chas. Wilkes; Rudolf Virchow.
Part 2 out of 11
my hosts the right way to cook the pates, which I had the pleasure of
afterwards eating in the forest, as I easily persuaded them to sell
me the tins they had left. These are the only two occasions on which
I was subjected to this kind of annoyance during my eighteen months'
residence in the Philippines.
[Arrangements for travellers.] The traveller who is provided
with a passport is, however, by no means obliged to rely upon
priestly hospitality, as he needs must do in many isolated parts of
Europe. Every village, every hamlet, has its commonhouse, called casa
real or tribunal, in which he can take up his quarters and be supplied
with provisions at the market price, a circumstance that I was not
acquainted with on the occasion of my first trip. The traveller is
therefore in this respect perfectly independent, at least in theory,
though in practice he will often scarcely be able to avoid putting
up at the conventos in the more isolated parts of the country. In
these the priest, perhaps the only white man for miles around, is
with difficulty persuaded to miss the opportunity of housing such
a rare guest, to whom he is only too anxious to give up the best
bedroom in his dwelling, and to offer everything that his kitchen
and cellar can afford. Everything is placed before the guest in such
a spirit of sincere and undisguised friendliness, that he feels no
obligation, but on the contrary easily persuades himself that he is
doing his host a favor by prolonging his stay. Upon one occasion,
when I had determined, in spite of an invitation from the padre,
to occupy the casa real, just as I was beginning to instal myself,
the priest appeared upon the scene with the municipal officials and a
band of music which was in the neighborhood pending the preparations
for a religious festival. He made them lift me up, chair and all,
and with music and general rejoicing carried me off to his own house.
[Kupang iron-foundry.] On the following day I paid a visit to Kupang,
an iron-foundry lying to the N.N.E of Angat, escorted by two armed
men, whose services I was pressed to accept, as the district had a bad
reputation for robberies. After travelling three or four miles in a
northerly direction, we crossed the Banauon, at that time a mere brook
meandering through shingle, but in the rainy season an impetuous stream
more than a hundred feet broad; and in a couple of hours we reached the
iron-works, an immense shed lying in the middle of the forest, with
a couple of wings at each end, in which the manager, an Englishman,
who had been wrecked some years before in Samar, lived with his wife,
a pretty mestiza. If I laid down my handkerchief, my pencil, or any
other object, the wife immediately locked them up to protect them from
the kleptomania of her servants. These poor people, whose enterprise
was not a very successful one, had to lead a wretched life. Two years
before my visit a band of twenty-seven robbers burst into the place,
sacked the house, and threw its mistress, who was alone with her
maid at the time, out of the window. She fortunately alighted without
receiving any serious hurt, but the maid, whom terror caused to jump
out of the window also, died of the injuries she received. The robbers,
who turned out to be miners and residents in Angat, were easily caught,
and, when I was there, had already spent a couple of years in prison
awaiting their trial.
[A negrito family.] I met a negrito family here who had friendly
relations with the people in the iron-works, and were in the habit
of exchanging the produce of the forest with them for provisions. The
father of this family accompanied me on a hunting expedition. He was
armed with a bow and a couple of arrows. The arrows had spear-shaped
iron points a couple of inches long; one of them had been dipped
into arrow-poison, a mixture that looked like black tar. The women
had guitars (tabaua) similar to those used by the Mintras in the
Malay peninsula. They were made of pieces of bamboo a foot long,
to which strings of split chair-cane were fastened. [61]
[Unwelcome hospitality.] Upon my return, to avoid spending the night
at the wretched convento where I had left my servant with my luggage,
I took the advice of my friends at the iron-works and started late,
in order to arrive at the priest's after ten o'clock at night; for
I knew that the padre shut up his house at ten, and that I could
therefore sleep, without offending him, beneath the roof of a wealthy
mestizo, an acquaintance of theirs. About half-past ten I reached
the latter's house, and sat down to table with the merry women of
the family, who were just having their supper. Suddenly my friend the
parson made his appearance from an inner room, where with a couple of
Augustinian friars, he had been playing cards with the master of the
house. He immediately began to compliment me upon my good fortune,
"for had you been but one minute later," said he, "you certainly
wouldn't have got into the convento."
CHAPTER VII
[The Lagoon of Bay.] My second trip took me up the Pasig to the great
Lagoon of Bay. I left Manila at night in a banca, a boat hollowed out
of a tree-trunk, with a vaulted roof made of bamboo and so low that it
was almost impossible to sit upright under it, which posture, indeed,
the banca-builder appeared to have neglected to consider. A bamboo
hurdle placed at the bottom of the boat protects the traveller from
the water and serves him as a couch. Jurien de la Graviere [62]
compares the banca to a cigar-box, in which the traveller is so
tightly packed that he would have little chance of saving his life
if it happened to upset. The crew was composed of four rowers and
a helmsman; their daily pay was five reals apiece, in all nearly
seven pesos, high wages for such lazy fellows in comparison with
the price of provisions, for the rice that a hard-working man ate in
a day seldom cost more than seven centavos (in the provinces often
scarcely six), and the rest of his food (fish and vegetables), only
one centavo. We passed several villages and tiendas on the banks in
which food was exposed for sale. My crew, after trying to interrupt
the journey under all sorts of pretences, left the boat as we came to
a village, saying that they were going to fetch some sails; but they
forgot to return. At last, with the assistance of the night watchman
I succeeded in hauling them out of some of their friends' houses,
where they had concealed themselves. After running aground several
times upon the sandbanks, we entered the land and hill-locked Lagoon
of Bay, and reached Jalajala early in the morning.
[The Pasig.] The Pasig forms a natural canal, about six leagues long,
between the Bay of Manila and the Lagoon of Bay, a fresh water lake,
thirty-five leagues in circumference, that washes the shores of three
fertile provinces, Manila, Laguna and Cavite. Formerly large vessels
full of cargo used to be able to sail right up to the borders of the
lake; now they are prevented by sandbanks. Even flat-bottomed boats
frequently run aground on the Napindan and Taguig banks. [63] Were
the banks removed, and the stone bridge joining Manila to Binondo
replaced by a swing bridge, or a canal made round it, the coasting
vessels would be able to ship the produce of the lagoon provinces
at the very foot of the fields in which they grow. The traffic would
be very profitable, the waters would shrink, and the shallows along
the shore might be turned into rice and sugar fields. A scheme of
this kind was approved more than thirty years ago in Madrid, but it
was never carried into execution. The sanding up of the river has,
on the contrary, been increased by a quantity of fish reels, the
erection of which has been favored by the Colonial Waterways Board
because it reaped a small tax from them.
[A famous plantation.] Jalajala, an estate which occupies the eastern
of the two peninsulas which run southward into the lake, is one of
the first places visited by strangers. It owes this preference to
its beautiful position and nearness to Manila, and to the fantastic
description of it by a former owner, De la Gironniere. The soil
of the peninsula is volcanic; its range of hills is very rugged,
and the watercourses bring down annually a quantity of soil from the
mountains, which increases the deposits at their base. The shore-line,
overgrown with grass and prickly sensitive-plants quite eight feet
high, makes capital pasture for carabaos. Behind it broad fields of
rice and sugar extend themselves up to the base of the hills. Towards
the north the estate is bounded by the thickly-wooded Sembrano,
the highest mountain in the peninsula; on the remaining sides it
is surrounded with water. With the exception of the flat shore, the
whole place is hilly and overgrown with grass and clumps of trees,
capital pasture for its numerous herds--a thousand carabaos, one
thousand five hundred to two thousand bullocks, and from six to seven
hundred nearly wild horses. As we were descending one of the hills,
we were suddenly surrounded by half-a-dozen armed men, who took us
for cattle-thieves, but who, to their disappointment, were obliged
to forego their expected chance of a reward.
[Los Banos hot springs.] Beyond Jalajala, on the south coast of
the Lagoon of Bay, lies the hamlet of Los Banos, so called from a
hot spring at the foot of the Makiling volcano. Even prior to the
arrival of the Spaniards, the natives used its waters as a remedy,
[64] but they are now very little patronized. The shore of the lake is
at this point, and indeed all round its circumference, so flat that it
is impossible to land with dry feet from the shallowest canoe. It is
quite covered with sand mussels. North-west of Los Banos there lies
a small volcanic lake fringed with thick woods, called Dagatan (the
enchanted lagoon of travellers), to distinguish it from Dagat, as the
Tagals call the great Lagoon of Bay. I saw nothing of the crocodiles
which are supposed to infest it, but we flushed several flocks of wild
fowl, disturbed by our invasion of their solitude. From Los Banos I had
intended to go to Lupang Puti (white earth), where, judging from the
samples shown me, there is a deposit of fine white silicious earth,
which is purified in Manila and used as paint. I did not reach the
place, as the guide whom I had with difficulty obtained, pretended,
after a couple of miles, to be dead beat. From the inquiries I made,
however, I apprehend that it is a kind of solfatara. Several deposits
of it appear to exist at the foot of the Makiling. [65]
[Talim island.] On my return I paid a visit to the Island of
Talim, which, with the exception of a clearing occupied by a few
miserable huts, is uninhabited and thickly overgrown with forest and
undergrowth. In the center of the Island is the Susong-Dalaga (maiden's
bosom), a dolerite hill with a beautifully formed crest. Upon the
shore, on a bare rock, I found four eggs containing fully developed
young crocodiles. When I broke the shells the little reptiles made off.
[M. de la Gironniere.] Although the south-west monsoons generally occur
later in Jalajala than in Manila, it was already raining so hard that
I decided to go to Calauan, on the southern shore of the lake, which
is protected by Mount Makiling, and does not experience the effect of
the rainy monsoons till later in the season. I met M. de la Gironniere
in Calauan, the "gentilhomme Breton" who is so well known for telling
the most terrible adventures. He had lately returned from Europe to
establish a large sugar manufactory. His enterprise, however, was a
failure. The house of the lively old gentleman, whose eccentricity
had led him to adopt the dress and the frugal habits of the natives,
was neither clean or well kept, although he had a couple of friends
to assist him in the business, a Scotchman, and a young Frenchman
who had lived in the most refined Parisian society.
[Llanura de Imuc.] There were several small lakes and a few empty
volcanic basins on the estate. To the south-west, not very far
from the house, and to the left of the road leading to San Pablo,
lies the Llanura de Imuc, a valley of dolerite more than a hundred
feet deep. Large blocks of basalt enable one to climb down into the
valley, the bottom of which is covered with dense growths. The center
of the basin is occupied by a neglected coffee plantation laid out
by a former proprietor. The density of the vegetation prevented my
taking more precise observations. There is another shallower volcanic
crater to the north of it. Its soil was marshy and covered with cane
and grass, but even in the rainy season it does not collect sufficient
water to turn it into a lake. It might, therefore, be easily drained
and cultivated. To the south-west of this basin, and to the right
of the road to San Pablo, lies the [Tigui-mere.] Tigui-mere. From a
plain of whitish-grey soil, covered with concentric shells as large
as a nut, rises a circular embankment with gently-sloping sides,
intersected only by a small cleft which serves as an entrance, and
which shows, on its edges denuded of vegetation, the loose rapilli of
which the embankment is formed. The sides of this natural amphitheatre
tower more than a hundred feet above its flat base. A path runs east
and west right through the center. The northern half is studded with
cocopalm trees and cultivated plants; the southern portion is full of
water nearly covered with green weeds and slime. The ground consists
of black rapilli.
[Leaf imprints in lava.] From the Tigui-mere I returned to the
hacienda a bank formed of volcanic lava two feet in thickness
and covered with indistinct impressions of leaves. Their state of
preservation did not allow me to distinguish their species, but they
certainly belonged to some tropical genus, and are, according to
Professor A. Braun, of the same kind as those now growing there.
There are two more small lakes half a league to the south-east. The
road leading to them is composed of volcanic remains which cover the
soil, and large blocks of lava lie in the bed of the stream.
[Maycap Lake.] The first of the two, the Maycap Lake, is entirely
embanked with the exception of a small opening fitted with sluices
to supply water to a canal; and from its northern side, which alone
admits of an open view, the southern peak of San Cristobal may
be seen, about 73 deg. to the north-east. Its banks, which are about
eighty feet high, rise with a gentle slope in a westerly direction,
till they join Mount Maiba, a hill about 500 feet high. The soil,
like that of the embankments of the other volcanic lakes, consists
of rapilli and lava, and is thickly wooded.
[Lake Palakpakan.] Close by is another lake, Palakpakan, of nearly
the same circumference, and formed in a similar manner (of black
sand and rapilli). Its banks are from thirty to one hundred feet
high. From its north-western edge San Cristobal lifts its head 70 deg. to
the northeast. Its waters are easily reached, and are much frequented
by fishermen.
[Palm brandy.] About nine o'clock, a.m., I rode from Calauan to Pila,
and thence in a northeasterly direction to Santa Cruz, over even,
broad, and well-kept roads, through a palm-grove a mile long and a
mile and a half broad, which extends down to the very edge of the
lagoons. The products of these palm trees generally are not used
for the production of oil but for the manufacture of brandy. Their
fruit is not allowed to come to maturity; but the buds are slit open,
and the sweet sap is collected as it drips from them. It is then
allowed to ferment, and subjected to distillation. [66] As the sap
is collected twice a day, and as the blossoms, situated at the top
of the tree, are forty or fifty feet above the ground, bamboos are
fastened horizontally, one above the other, from one tree to another,
to facilitate the necessary ascent and descent. The sap collector
stands on the lower cross-piece while he holds on to the upper.
[Bought by government.] The sale of palm-brandy was at the time of my
visit the monopoly of the government, which retailed it in the Estanco
(government sale rooms) with cigars, stamped paper, and religious
indulgences. The manufacture was carried on by private individuals;
but the whole of the brandy was of necessity disposed of to the
administration, which, however, paid such a high price for it that
the contractors made large profits.
[Profit in manufacture.] I afterwards met a Spaniard in Camarines who,
according to his own account, must have made considerable and easy
gains from these contracts. He had bought palm-trees at an average
price of five reals apiece (they usually cost more, though they can
be sometimes purchased for two reals). Thirty-five palms will furnish
daily at least thirty-six quarts of tuba (sugar-containing sap), from
which, after fermentation and distillation, six quarts of brandy of
the prescribed strength can be manufactured. One man is sufficient to
attend to them, and receives for his trouble half the proceeds. The
administration pays six cuartos for a quart of brandy. My friend the
contractor was in annual receipt, therefore, from every thirty-five
of his trees, of 360 x 1/2 x 5 cuartos = $40.50. As the thirty-five
trees only cost him $21.875, his invested capital brought him in
about 200 per cent.
[Wine and liquor monopoly a failure.] The proceeds of this monopoly
(wines and liquors) were rated at $1,622,810 in the colonial budget for
1861; but its collection was so difficult, and so disproportionately
expensive, that it nearly swallowed up the whole profit. It caused
espionage, robberies of all sorts, embezzlement, and bribery on a
large scale. The retail of the brandy by officials, who are paid by a
percentage on the consumption, did a good deal to injure the popular
respect for the government. Moreover, the imposition of this improper
tax on the most important industry of the country not only crippled
the free trade in palms, but also the manufacture of raw sugar;
for the government, to favor their own monopoly, had forbidden the
sugar manufacturers to make rum from their molasses, which became
in consequence so valueless that in Manila they gave it to their
horses. The complaints of the manufacturers at last stirred up the
administration to allow the manufacture of rum; but the palm-brandy
monopoly remained intact. The Filipinos now drank nothing but rum,
so that at last, in self-defence, the government entirely abandoned
the monopoly (January, 1864). Since that, the rum manufacturers pay
taxes according to the amount of their sale, but not upon the amount
of their raw produce. In order to cover the deficit occasioned by
the abandonment of the brandy monopoly, the government has made a
small increase in the poll-tax. The practice of drinking brandy has
naturally much increased; it is, however, a very old habit. [67] With
this exception, the measure has had the most favorable consequences.
[Santa Cruz.] Santa Cruz is a lively, prosperous place (in 1865 it
contained 11,385 inhabitants), through the center of which runs a
river. As the day on which we passed through it was Sunday, the stream
was full of bathers, amongst them several women, their luxuriant hair
covered with broad-brimmed hats to shade them from the sun. From the
ford the road takes a sharp turn and inclines first to the east and
then to the south-east, till it reaches Magdalena, between which and
Majaijai the country becomes hilly. Just outside the latter, a viaduct
takes the road across a deep ravine full of magnificent ferns, which
remind the traveller of the height--more than 600 feet--above the sea
level to which he has attained. The spacious convento at Majaijai,
built by the Jesuits, is celebrated for its splendid situation. The
Lagoon of Bay is seen to extend far to the north-east; in the distance
the Peninsula of Jalajala and the Island of Talim, from which rises
the Susong-Dalaga volcano, terminate the vista. From the convento to
the lake stretches an endless grove of coco-trees, while towards the
south the slope of the distant high ground grows suddenly steeper,
and forms an abruptly precipitous conical hill, intersected by deep
ravines. This is the Banajao or Majaijai volcano, and beside it Mount
San Cristobal rears its bell-shaped summit.
[Scenery along Lucban-Maubon road.] As everybody was occupied with
the preparations for an ensuing religious festival, I betook myself,
through Lucban on the eastern shore, to Mauban, situated amidst
deep ravines and masses of lava at the foot of Mount Majaijai. The
vegetation was of indescribable beauty, and the miserable road
was enlivened with cheerful knots of pedestrians hastening to the
festival. [68]
[Lucban.] I reached Lucban in three hours; it is a prosperous place
of 13,000 inhabitants, to the north-east of Majaijai. A year after my
visit it burnt to the ground. The agricultural produce of the district
is not very important, owing to the mountainous nature of the country;
but considerable industrial activity prevails there. The inhabitants
weave fine straw hats from the fibre of the leaf of the buri palm-tree
(corypha sp.), manufacture pandanus mats, and carry on a profitable
trade at Mauban with the placer miners of North Camarines. The entire
breadth of the road is covered with cement, and along its center flows,
in an open channel, a sparkling rivulet.
[Java-like rice fields.] The road from Lucban to Mauban, which is
situated on the bay of Lamon, opposite to the Island of Alabat, winds
along the narrow watercourse of the Mapon river, through deep ravines
with perpendicular cliffs of clay. I observed several terrace-formed
rice-fields similar to those so prevalent in Java, an infrequent
sight in the Philippines. Presently the path led us into the very
thick of the forest. Nearly all the trees were covered with aroides
and creeping ferns; amongst them I noticed the angiopteris, pandanus,
and several large specimens of the fan palm.
[Mapon river.] Three leagues from Lucban the river flows under a rock
supported on prismatically shaped pillars, and then runs through a
bed of round pebbles, composed of volcanic stone and white lime, as
hard as marble, in which impressions of shell-fish and coral can be
traced. Further up the river the volcanic rubble disappears, and the
containing strata then consist of the marble-like pebbles cemented
together with calcareous spar. These strata alternate with banks of
clay and coarse-grained soil, which contain scanty and badly preserved
imprints of leaves and mussel-fish. Amongst them, however, I observed
a flattened but still recognizable specimen of the fossil melania. The
river-bed must be quite five hundred feet above the level of the sea.
[Bamboo raft ferry.] About a league beyond Mauban, as it was getting
dusk, we crossed the river, then tolerably broad, on a wretched leaking
bamboo raft, which sank at least six inches beneath the water under
the weight of our horses, and ran helplessly aground in the mud on
the opposite side.
[Visitors to festival.] The tribunal or common-house was crowded with
people who had come to attend the festival which was to take place
on the following day. The cabezas wore, in token of their dignity,
a short jacket above their shirts. A quantity of brightly decorated
tables laden with fruit and pastry stood against the walls, and in
the middle of the principal room a dining-table was laid out for
forty persons.
[Hospitality of tribunal.] A European who travels without a
servant--mine had run away with some wages I had rashly paid
him in advance--is put down as a beggar, and I was overwhelmed
with impertinent questions on the subject, which, however, I left
unanswered. As I hadn't had the supper I stood considerably in need of,
I took the liberty of taking a few savory morsels from the meatpot,
which I ate in the midst of a little knot of wondering spectators;
I then laid myself down to sleep on the bench beside the table, to
which a second set of diners were already sitting down. When I awoke
on the following morning there were already so many people stirring
that I had no opportunity of performing my toilet. I therefore betook
myself in my dirty travelling dress to the residence of a Spaniard who
had settled in the pueblo, and who received me in the most hospitable
manner as soon as the description in my passport satisfied him that
I was worthy of a confidence not inspired by my appearance.
[Trade in molaze.] My friendly host carried on no trifling
business. Two English ships were at that moment in the harbor, which
he was about to send to China laden with molave, a species of wood
akin to teak.
[Butucan waterfall.] On my return I visited the fine waterfall of
Butucan, between Mauban and Lucban, a little apart from the high
road. A powerful stream flows between two high banks of rocky
soil thickly covered with vegetation, and, leaping from a ledge
of volcanic rock suddenly plunges into a ravine, said to be three
hundred and sixty feet in depth, along the bottom of which it is
hurried away. The channel, however, is so narrow, and the vegetation
so dense, that an observer looking at it from above can not follow
its course. This waterfall has a great similarity to that which falls
from the Semeru in Java. Here, as there, a volcanic stream flowing over
vast rocky deposits forms a horizontal watercourse, which in its turn
is overshadowed with immense masses of rock. The water easily forces
its way between these till it reaches the solid lava, when it leaves
its high, narrow, and thickly-wooded banks, and plunges into the deep
chasm it has itself worn away. The pouring rain unfortunately prevented
me from sketching this fine fall. It was raining when I reached the
convento of Majaijai, and it was still raining when I left it three
days later, nor was there any hope of improvement in the weather for
another month to come. "The wet season lasts for eight or nine months
in Majaijai, and during the whole period scarcely a day passes without
the rain falling in torrents."--Estado geograph.
[Majaijai.] To ascend the volcano was under such circumstances
impracticable. According to some notes written by the Majaijai
priest, an ascent and survey of Mount Banajao was made on the 22nd
of April, 1858, by Senors Roldan and Montero, two able Spanish naval
officers, specially charged with the revision of the marine chart
of the archipelago. From its summit they took observations of Manila
cathedral, of Mayon, another volcano in Albay, and of the Island of
Polillo. They estimated the altitude of Banajao to be seven thousand
and twenty Spanish feet, and the depth of its crater to be seven
hundred. The crater formerly contained a lake, but the last eruption
made a chasm in its southern side through which the water flowed
away. [69]
[Calauan.] I reached Calauan in the pouring rain, wading through the
soft spongy clay upon wretched, half-starved ponies, and found I must
put off my water journey to Manila till the following day, as there
was no boat on the lake at this point. The next morning there were no
horses to be found; and it was not till the afternoon that I procured
a cart and a couple of carabaos to take me to Santa Cruz, whence in the
evening the market-vessel started for Manila. One carabao was harnessed
in front; the other was fastened behind the cart in order that I might
have a change of animals when the first became tired. Carabao number
one wouldn't draw, and number two acted as a drag--rather useless
apparatus on a level road--so I changed them. As soon as number two
felt the load it laid down. A few blows persuaded it to pick itself up,
when it deliberately walked to the nearest pool and dropped into it. It
was with the greatest trouble that we unharnessed the cart and pushed
it back on to the road, while our two considerate beasts took a mud
bath. At last we reloaded the baggage, the carabaos were reharnessed in
the original positions, and the driver, leaning his whole weight upon
the nose-rope of the leading beast, pulled with might and main. To my
great delight the animal condescended to slowly advance with the cart
and its contents. [Pila.] At Pila I managed to get a better team, with
which late in the evening, in the midst of a pouring rain, I reached
a little hamlet opposite Santa Cruz. The market-vessel had left; our
attempts to get a boat to take us across to the village only led to
barefaced attempts at extortion, so I entered one of the largest of the
hamlet's houses, which was occupied by a widow and her daughter. After
some delay my request for a night's lodging was granted. I sent for
some oil, to give me a little light, and something to eat. The women
brought in some of their relations, who helped to prepare the food
and stopped in the house to protect its owners. The next morning
I crossed the river, teeming with joyous bathers, to Santa Cruz,
and hired a boat there to take me across the lake to Pasig, and from
thence to Manila. A contrary wind, however, forced us to land on the
promontory of Jalajala, and there wait for the calm that accompanies
the dawn. [Earthquake evidences.] Betwixt the extreme southern point
of the land and the houses I saw, in several places, banks of mussels
projecting at least fifteen feet above the surface of the water,
similar to those which are so frequently found on the sea-coast;--a
proof that earthquakes have taken place in this neighborhood.
CHAPTER VIII
[To Albay by schooner.] Towards the end of August I started from
Manila for Albay in a schooner which had brought a cargo of hemp and
was returning in ballast. It was fine when we set sail; but on the
following day the signs of a coming storm increased so rapidly that
the captain resolved to return and seek protection in the small but
secure harbor of Mariveles, a creek on the southern shore of Bataan,
the province forming the western boundary of Manila bay. We reached
it about two o'clock in the night after cruising about for fourteen
hours before the entrance; and we were obliged to remain here at anchor
for a fortnight, as it rained and stormed continuously for that period.
[Mariveles.] The weather obliged me to limit my excursions to the
immediate neighborhood of Mariveles. Unfortunately it was not till the
close of our stay that I learnt that there was a colony of negritos in
the mountains; and it was not till just before my departure that I got
a chance of seeing and sketching a couple of them, male and female. The
inhabitants of Mariveles have not a very good reputation. The place
is only visited by ships which run in there in bad weather, when
their idle crews spend the time in drinking and gambling. Some of
the young girls were of striking beauty and of quite a light color;
often being in reality of mixed race, though they passed as of pure
Tagal blood. This is a circumstance I have observed in many seaports,
and in the neighborhood of Manila; but, in the districts which are
almost entirely unvisited by the Spaniards, the natives are much
darker and of purer race.
[Storm-bound shipping.] The number of ships which were seeking
protection from the weather in this port amounted to ten, of which
three were schooners. Every morning regularly a small pontin [70]
used to attempt to set sail; but it scarcely got a look at the
open sea before it returned, when it was saluted with the jeers and
laughter of the others. It was hunger that made them so bold. The
crew, who had taken some of their own produce to Manila, had spent
the proceeds of their venture, and had started on their return voyage
scantily provided with provisions, with the hope and intention of soon
reaching their home, which they could have done with any favorable
wind. Such cases frequently occur. A few natives unite to charter
a small vessel, and load it with the produce of their own fields,
which they set off to sell in Manila.
[The straits.] The straits between the Islands resemble beautiful
wide rivers with charming spots upon the banks inhabited by small
colonies; and the sailors generally find the weather gets squally
towards evening, and anchor till the morning breaks.
[Filipino hospitality.] The hospitable coast supplies them with fish,
crabs, plenty of mussels, and frequently unprotected coconuts. If it
is inhabited, so much the better. Filipino hospitality is ample, and
much more comprehensive than that practised in Europe. The crews are
accommodated in the different huts. After a repast shared in common,
and washed down by copious draughts of palm-wine, mats are streched
on the floor; the lamps--large shells, fitted with rush wicks--are
extinguished, and the occupants of the hut fall asleep together. Once,
as I was sailing into the bay of Manila after a five day's cruise, we
overtook a craft which had sailed from the same port as we had with a
cargo of coconut oil for Manila, and which had spent six months upon
its trip. It is by no means uncommon for a crew which makes a long
stay in the capital to squander the whole proceeds of their cargo,
if they have not done it before reaching town.
[Coasting Luzon.] At last one evening, when the storm had quite passed
away, we sailed out of Mariveles. A small, volcanic, pillar-shaped
rock, bearing a striking resemblance to the Island of the Cyclops,
off the coast of Sicily, lies in front of the harbor--like there, a
sharp pyramid and a small, flat island. We sailed along the coast of
Cavite till we reached Point Santiago, the southwestern extremity of
Luzon, and then turned to the east, through the fine straits that lie
between Luzon to the north and the Bisayan islands to the south. As
the sun rose, a beautiful spectacle presented itself. To the north
was the peak of the Taal volcano, towering above the flat plains of
Batangas; and to the south the thickly-wooded, but rock-bound coast
of Mindoro, the iron line of which was broken by the harbor of Porto
Galera, protected from the fury of the waves by a small islet lying
immediately before it. The waters around us were thickly studded with
vessels which had taken refuge from the storm in the Bisayan ports,
and were now returning to Manila.
[Importance of straits.] These straits, which extend from the
south-east to the northwest, are the great commercial highway of
the Archipelago, and remain navigable during the whole year, being
protected from the fury of the north-easterly winds by the sheltering
peninsula of Luzon, which projects to the south-east, and by Samar,
which extends in a parallel direction; while the Bisayan islands
shield them from the blasts that blow from the south-west. The
Islands of Mindoro, Panay, Negros, Cebu and Bohol, which Nature has
placed in close succession to each other, form the southern borders
of the straits; and the narrow cross channels between them form as
many outlets to the Sea of Mindoro, which is bounded on the west
by Palawan, on the east by Mindanao, and on the south by the Sulu
group. The eastern waters of the straits wash the coasts of Samar
and Leyte, and penetrate through three small channels only to the
great ocean; the narrow straits of San Bernardino, of San Juanico,
and of Surigao. Several considerable, and innumerable smaller islets,
lie within the area of these cursorily explained outlines.
[Batangas coast.] A couple of bays on the south coast of Batangas
offer a road-stead, though but little real protection, to passing
vessels, which in stormy weather make for Porto Galera, in the Island
of Mindoro, which lies directly opposite. A river, a league and a
half in length, joins Taal, the principal port of the province, to
the great inland sea of Taal, or Bombon. This stream was formerly
navigable; but it has now become so sanded up that it is passable
only at flood tides, and then only by very small vessels.
[Batangas exports.] The province of Batangas supplies Manila with
its best cattle, and exports sugar and coffee.
A hilly range bounds the horizon on the Luzon side; the striking
outlines of which enable one to conjecture its volcanic origin. Most
of the smaller islands to the south appear to consist of superimposed
mountainous ranges, terminating seaward in precipitous cliffs. The
lofty and symmetrical peak of Mount Mayon is the highest point in the
panoramic landscape. Towards evening we sighted Mount Bulusan, in the
south-eastern extremity of Luzon; and presently we turned northwards,
and sailed up the Straits of San Bernardino, which separate Luzon
from Samar.
[Bulusan like Vesuvius.] The Bulusan volcano, "which appears to have
been for a long time extinct, but which again began to erupt in 1852,"
[71] is surprisingly like Vesuvius in outline. It has, like its
prototype, a couple of peaks. The western one, a bell-shaped summit,
is the eruption cone. The eastern apex is a tall, rugged mound,
probably the remains of a huge circular crater. As in Vesuvius, the
present crater is in the center of the extinct one. The intervals
between them are considerably larger and more uneven than the Atrio
del Cavallo of the Italian volcano.
[San Bernardino current.] The current is so powerful in the Straits
of San Bernardino that we were obliged to anchor twice to avoid
being carried back again. To our left we had continually in view the
magnificent Bulusan volcano, with a hamlet of the same name nestling at
the foot of its eastern slope in a grove of coco-trees, close to the
sea. Struggling with difficulty against the force of the current, we
succeeded, with the assistance of light and fickle winds, in reaching
Legaspi, the port of Albay, on the following evening. Our skipper, a
Spaniard, had determined to accomplish the trip as rapidly as possible.
[A native captain.] On my return voyage, however, I fell into the hands
of a native captain; and, as my cruise under his auspices presented
many peculiarities, I may quote a few passages relating to it from
my diary.... The skipper intended to have taken a stock of vegetables
for my use, but he had forgotten them. He therefore landed on a small
island, and presently made his reappearance with a huge palm cabbage,
which, in the absence of its owner, he had picked from a tree he
cut down for the purpose.... On another occasion the crew made a
descent upon a hamlet on the north-western coast of Leyte to purchase
provisions. Instead of laying in a stock for the voyage at Tacloban,
the sailors preferred doing so at some smaller village on the shores
of the straits, where food is cheaper, and where their landing gave
them a pretext to run about the country. The straits of San Juanico,
never more than a mile, and often only eight hundred feet broad,
are about twenty miles in length: yet it often takes a vessel a week
to sail up them; for contrary winds and an adverse current force it
to anchor frequently and to lie to for whole nights in the narrower
places. Towards evening our captain thought that the sky appeared
very threatening, so he made for the bay of Navo, of Masbate. [An
intermittent voyage.] There he anchored, and a part of the crew went
on shore. The next day was a Sunday; the captain thought "the sky
still appeared very threatening;" and besides he wanted to make some
purchases. So we anchored again off Magdalena, where we passed the
night. On Monday a favorable wind took us, at a quicker rate, past
Marinduque and the rocky islet of Elefante, which lies in front of
it. Elefante appears to be an extinct volcano; it looks somewhat like
the Iriga, but is not so lofty. It is covered with capital pasture,
and its ravines are dotted with clumps of trees. Nearly a thousand
head of half-wild cattle were grazing on it. They cost four dollars
a-piece; and their freight to Manila is as much more, where they sell
for sixteen dollars. They are badly tended, and many are stolen by
the passing sailors. My friend the captain was full of regret that the
favorable wind gave him no opportunity of landing; perhaps I was the
real obstacle. "They were splendid beasts! How easy it would be to put
a couple on board! They could scarcely be said to have any real owners;
the nominal proprietors were quite unaware how many they possessed,
and the herd was continually multiplying without any addition from its
masters. A man lands with a little money in his pocket. If he meets a
herdsman, he gives him a dollar, and the poor creature thinks himself
a lucky fellow. If not, so much the better. He can do the business
himself; a barrel of shot or a sling suffices to settle the matter."
[Plunder.] As we sailed along we saw coming towards us another vessel,
the Luisa, which suddenly executed a very extraordinary tack; and in a
minute or two its crew sent up a loud shout of joy, having succeeded
in stealing a fishbox which the fishermen of Marinduque had sunk in
the sea. They had lowered a hook, and been clever enough to grapple
the rope of the floating buoy. Our captain was beside himself with
envy of their prize.
[Legaspi.] Legaspi is the principal port of the province of Albay. Its
road-stead, however, is very unsafe, and, being exposed to the
north-easterly storms, is perfectly useless during the winter. The
north-east wind is the prevailing one on this coast; the south-west
breeze only blows in June and July. The heaviest storms occur between
October and January. They generally set in with a gentle westerly wind,
accompanied with rain. The gale presently veers round to the north
or the south, and attains the height of its fury when it reaches
the north-east or the south-east. After the storm a calm generally
reigns, succeeded by the usual wind of the prevailing monsoon. The
lightly-built elastic houses of the country are capitally suited
to withstand these storms; but roofs and defective houses are
frequently carried away. The traffic between Manila and Legaspi is
at its height between January and October; but during the autumn
months all communication by water ceases. The letter-post, which
arrives pretty regularly every week, is then the only link between
the two places. At this season heavy packages can be sent only by
a circuitous and expensive route along the south coast, and thence
by water to Manila. Much more favorably situated for navigation is
the port of [Sorsogon.] Sorsogon, the mouth of which opens to the
west, and is protected by the Island of Bagalao, which lies in front
of it. Besides its security as a harbor, it has the advantage of a
rapid and unbroken communication with the capital of the archipelago,
while vessels sailing from Legaspi, even at the most favorable time
of the year, are obliged to go round the eastern peninsula of Luzon,
and meet the principal current of the Straits of San Bernardino,
frequently a very difficult undertaking; and, moreover, small vessels
obliged to anchor there are in great danger of being captured by
pirates. The country about Sorsogon, however, is not so fertile as
the neighborhood of Legaspi.
[A worthy official.] I took letters of introduction with me to both
the Spanish authorities of the province; who received me in the most
amiable way, and were of the greatest use to me during the whole of
my stay in the vicinity. I had also the good fortune to fall in with
a model alcalde, a man of good family and of most charming manners;
in short, a genuine caballero. To show the popular appreciation of
the honesty of his character, it was said of him in Samar that he
had entered the province with nothing but a bundle of papers, and
had left it as lightly equipped.
CHAPTER IX
[Daraga.] My Spanish friends enabled me to rent a house in Daraga,
[72] a well-to-do town of twenty thousand inhabitants at the foot
of the Mayon, a league and a half from Legaspi. The summit of this
volcano was considered inaccessible until two young Scotchmen, Paton
and Stewart by name, demonstrated the contrary. [73] Since then
several natives have ascended the mountain, but no Europeans.
[Ascent of Mayon.] I set out on September 25th, and passed the night,
by the advice of Senor Munos, in a hut one thousand feet above the
level of the sea, in order to begin the ascent the next morning with
unimpaired vigor. But a number of idlers who insisted on following
me, and who kept up a tremendous noise all night, frustrated the
purpose of this friendly advice; and I started about five in the
morning but little refreshed. The fiery glow I had noticed about the
crater disappeared with the dawn. The first few hundred feet of the
ascent were covered with a tall grass quite six feet high; and then
came a slope of a thousand feet or so of short grass succeeded by a
quantity of moss; but even this soon disappeared, and the whole of
the upper part of the mountain proved entirely barren. We reached
the summit about one o'clock. It was covered with fissures which
gave out sulphurous gases and steam in such profusion that we were
obliged to stop our mouths and nostrils with our handkerchiefs to
prevent ourselves from being suffocated. We came to a halt at the
edge of a broad and deep chasm, from which issued a particularly
dense vapor. Apparently we were on the brink of a crater, but the
thick fumes of the disagreeable vapor made it impossible for us to
guess at the breadth of the fissure. The absolute top of the volcano
consisted of a ridge, nearly ten feet thick, of solid masses of stone
covered with a crust of lava bleached by the action of the escaping
gas. Several irregular blocks of stone lying about us showed that the
peak had once been a little higher. When, now and again, the gusts
of wind made rifts in the vapor, we perceived on the northern corner
of the plateau several rocky columns at least a hundred feet high,
which had hitherto withstood both storm and eruption. I afterwards
had an opportunity of observing the summit from Daraga with a capital
telescope on a very clear day, when I noticed that the northern side
of the crater was considerably higher than its southern edge.
[The descent.] Our descent took some time. We had still two-thirds
of it beneath us when night overtook us. In the hope of reaching
the hut where we had left our provisions, we wandered about till
eleven o'clock, hungry and weary, and at last were obliged to wait
for daylight. This misfortune was owing not to our want of proper
precaution, but to the unreliability of the carriers. Two of them,
whom we had taken with us to carry water and refreshments, had
disappeared at the very first; and a third, "a very trustworthy
man," whom we had left to take care of our things at the hut, and
who had been ordered to meet us at dusk with torches, had bolted,
as I afterwards discovered, back to Daraga before noon. My servant,
too, who was carrying a woolen blanket and an umbrella for me,
suddenly vanished in the darkness as soon as it began to rain, and
though I repeatedly called him, never turned up again till the next
morning. We passed the wet night upon the bare rocks, where, as our
very thin clothes were perfectly wet through, we chilled till our
teeth chattered. As soon, however, as the sun rose we got so warm
that we soon recovered our tempers. Towards nine o'clock we reached
the hut and got something to eat after twenty-nine hours' fast.
[A suspicious medal.] In the Trabajos y Hechos Nolables de la
Soc. Econom. de los Amigos del Pais, for September 4th, 1823, it is
said that "Don Antonio Siguenza paid a visit to the volcano of Albay
on March 11th," and that the Society "ordered a medal to be struck in
commemoration of the event, and in honor of the aforesaid Siguenza and
his companions." Everybody in Albay, however, assured me that the two
Scotchmen were the first to reach the top of the mountain. It is true
that in the above notice the ascent of the volcano is not directly
mentioned; but the fact of the medal naturally leads us to suppose
that nothing less can be referred to. Arenas, in his memoir, says:
"Mayon was surveyed by Captain Siguenza. From the crater to the base,
which is nearly at the level of the sea, he found that it measured
sixteen hundred and eighty-two Spanish feet or four sixty-eight and
two-third meters." A little further on, he adds, that he had read
in the records of the Society that they had had a gold medal struck
in honor of Siguenza, who had made some investigations about the
volcano's crater in 1823. He, therefore, appears to have had some
doubt about Siguenza's actual ascent.
[An early friar attempt.] According to the Franciscan records a couple
of monks attempted the ascent in 1592, in order to cure the natives
of their superstitious belief about the mountain. One of them never
returned; but the other, although he did not reach the summit, being
stopped by three deep abysses, made a hundred converts to Christianity
by the mere relation of his adventures. He died in the same year,
in consequence, it is recorded, of the many variations of temperature
to which he was exposed in his ascent of the volcano.
[Estimates of height] Some books say that the mountain is of
considerable height; but the Estado Geografico of the Franciscans for
1855, where one could scarcely expect to find such a thoughtless
repetition of so gross a typographical error, says that the
measurements of Siguenza give the mountain a height of sixteen
hundred and eighty-two feet. According to my own barometrical reading,
the height of the summit above the level of the sea was twenty-three
hundred and seventy-four meters, or eighty-five hundred and fifty-nine
Spanish feet.
CHAPTER X
[An accident and a month's rest.] I sprained my foot so badly in
ascending Mayon that I was obliged to keep the house for a month. Under
the circumstances, I was not sorry to find myself settled in a roomy
and comfortable dwelling. My house was built upon the banks of a
small stream, and stood in the middle of a garden in which coffee,
cacao, oranges, papayas, and bananas grew luxuriantly, in spite of
the tall weeds which surrounded them. Several over-ripe berries had
fallen to the ground, and I had them collected, roasted, mixed with
an equal quantity of sugar, and made into chocolate; an art in which
the natives greatly excel. With the Spaniards chocolate takes the
place of coffee and tea, and even the mestizos and the well-to-do
natives drink a great deal of it.
[Cacao] The cacao-tree comes from Central America. It flourishes
there between the 23rd parallel north and the 20th south latitude;
but it is only at its best in the hottest and dampest climates. In
temperate climates, where the thermometer marks less than 23 deg. C.,
it produces no fruit.
[High quality.] It was first imported into the Philippines from
Acapulco; either, according to Camarines, by a pilot called Pedro
Brabo de Lagunas, in 1670; or, according to Samar, by some Jesuits,
during Salcedo's government, between 1663 and 1668. Since then
it has spread over the greater part of the Island; and, although
it is not cultivated with any excessive care, its fruit is of
excellent quality. The cacao of Albay, if its cheapness be taken into
consideration, may be considered at least equal to that of Caracas,
which is so highly-prized in Europe, and which, on account of its
high price, generally is largely mixed with inferior kinds. [74]
The bushes are usually found in small gardens, close to the houses;
but so great is the native laziness that frequently the berries are
allowed to decay, although the local cacao sells for a higher price
than the imported. At Cebu and Negros a little more attention is paid
to its cultivation; [Scanty production.] but it does not suffice to
supply the wants of the colony, which imports the deficiency from
Ternate and Mindanao. The best cacao of the Philippines is produced in
the small Island of Maripipi, which lies to the north-west of Leyte;
and it is difficult to obtain, the entire crop generally being long
bespoke. It costs about one dollar per liter, whereas the Albay cacao
costs from two to two and a half dollars per "ganta" (three liters).
[Culture.] The natives generally cover the kernels, just as they
are beginning to sprout, with a little earth, and, placing them
in a spirally-rolled leaf, hang them up beneath the roof of their
dwellings. They grow very rapidly, and, to prevent their being
choked by weeds, are planted out at very short intervals. This
method of treatment is probably the reason that the cacao-trees in
the Philippines never attain a greater height than eight or ten feet,
while in their native soil they frequently reach thirty, and sometimes
even forty feet. The tree begins to bear fruit in its third or fourth
year, and in its fifth or sixth it reaches maturity, when it usually
yields a "ganta" of cacao, which, as I have mentioned, is worth from
two to two and a half dollars, and always finds a purchaser. [75]
[Neglect.] The profits arising from a large plantation would,
therefore, be considerable; yet it is very rare to meet with one. I
heard it said that the Economical Society had offered a considerable
reward to any one who could exhibit a plantation of ten thousand
berry-bearing trees; but in the Society's report I found no mention
of this reward.
[Damage by storms.] The great obstacles in the way of large plantations
are the heavy storms which recur almost regularly every year,
and often destroy an entire plantation in a single day. In 1856 a
hurricane visited the Island just before the harvest, and completely
tore up several large plantations by the roots; a catastrophe that
naturally has caused much discouragement to the cultivators. [76]
One consequence of this state of things was that the free importation
of cacao was permitted, and people were enabled to purchase Guayaqual
cacao at fifteen dollars per quintal while that grown at home cost
double the money.
[Diseases and pests.] The plant is sometimes attacked by a disease,
the origin of which is unknown, when it suffers severely from certain
noxious insects. [77] It is also attacked by rats and other predatory
vermin; the former sometimes falling upon it in such numbers that
they destroy the entire harvest in a single night. Travellers in
America say that a well-kept cacao plantation is a very picturesque
sight. In the Philippines, however, or at any rate in East Luzon,
the closely-packed, lifeless-looking, moss-covered trees present a
dreary spectacle. Their existence is a brief one. Their oval leaves,
sometimes nearly a foot long, droop singly from the twigs, and form
no luxuriant masses of foliage. Their blossoms are very insignificant;
they are of a reddish-yellow, no larger than the flowers of the lime,
and grow separately on long weedy stalks. The fruit ripens in six
months. When it is matured, it is of either a red or a yellow tint,
and is somewhat like a very rough gherkin. Only two varieties appear to
be cultivated in the Philippines. [78] The pulp of the fruit is white,
tender, and of an agreeable acid taste, and contains from eighteen
to twenty-four kernels, arranged in five rows. These kernels are as
large as almonds, and, like them, consist of a couple of husks and a
small core. This is the cacao bean; which, roasted and finely ground,
produces cacao, and with the addition of sugar, and generally of
spice, makes chocolate. Till the last few years, every household
in the Philippines made its own chocolate, of nothing but cacao
and sugar. The natives who eat chocolate often add roasted rice to
it. Nowadays there is a manufactory in Manila, which makes chocolate
in the European way. The inhabitants of the eastern provinces are
very fond of adding roasted pili nuts to their chocolate. [79]
[Chocolate.] Europeans first learnt to make a drink from cacao in
Mexico, where the preparation was called chocolatl. [80] Even so far
back as the days of Cortes, who was a tremendous chocolate drinker,
the cacao-tree was extensively cultivated. The Aztecs used the beans
as money; and Montezuma used to receive part of his tribute in this
peculiar coin. It was only the wealthy among the ancient Mexicans
who ate pure cacao; the poor, on account of the value of the beans
as coins, used to mix maize and mandioca meal with them. Even in our
own day the inhabitants of Central America make use of the beans as
small coins, as they have no copper money, nor smaller silver coins
than the half-real. Both in Central America and in Orinoco there yet
are many unpenetrated forests which are almost entirely composed of
wild cacao-trees. I believe the natives gather some of their fruit,
but it is almost worthless. By itself it has much less flavor than the
cultivated kinds. Certainly it is not picked and dried at the proper
season, and it gets spoilt in its long transit through the damp woods.
[An uncertain venture.] Since the abolition of slavery, the crops in
America have been diminishing year by year, and until a short time ago,
when the French laid out several large plantations in Central America,
were of but trifling value. According to F. Engel, a flourishing
cacao plantation required less outlay and trouble, and yields more
profit than any other tropical plant; yet its harvests, which do not
yield anything for the first five or six years, are very uncertain,
owing to the numerous insects which attack the plants. In short,
cacao plantations are only suited to large capitalists, or to very
small cultivators who grow the trees in their own gardens. Moreover,
as we have said, since the abolition of slavery most of the plantations
have fallen into decay, for the freed slaves are entirely wanting
in industry.
[Use in Europe.] The original chocolate was not generally relished
in Europe. When, however, at a later period, it was mixed with sugar,
it met with more approbation. The exaggerated praise of its admirers
raised a bitter opposition amongst the opponents of the new drink;
and the priests raised conscientious scruples against the use of so
nourishing an article of food on fast days. The quarrel lasted till
the seventeenth century, by which time cacao had become an everyday
necessity in Spain. It was first introduced into Spain in 1520; but
chocolate, on account of the monopoly of the Conquistadores, was for a
long time secretly prepared on the other side of the ocean. In 1580,
however, it was in common use in Spain, though it was so entirely
unknown in England that, in 1579, an English captain burnt a captured
cargo of it as useless. It reached Italy in 1606, and was introduced
into France by Anne of Austria. The first chocolate-house in London
was opened in 1657, and in 1700 Germany at last followed suit. [81]
[Coffee.] The history of coffee in the Philippines is very similar
to that of cacao. The plant thrives wonderfully, and its berry has
so strongly marked a flavor that the worst Manila coffee commands as
high a price as the best Java. In spite of this, however, the amount
of coffee produced in the Philippines is very insignificant, and,
until lately, scarcely deserved mention. According to the report of an
Englishman in 1828, the coffee-plant was almost unknown forty years
before, and was represented only by a few specimens in the Botanical
Gardens at Manila. It soon, however, increased and multiplied, thanks
to the moderation of a small predatory animal (paradoxurus musanga),
which only nibbled the ripe fruit, and left the hard kernels (the
coffee beans) untouched, as indigestible. The Economical Society
bestirred itself in its turn by offering rewards to encourage the
laying out of large coffee plantations. In 1837 it granted to M. de
la Gironniere a premium of $1,000, for exhibiting a coffee plantation
of sixty thousand plants, which were yielding their second harvest;
and four premiums to others in the following year. But as soon as
the rewards were obtained the plantations were once more allowed to
fall into neglect. From this it is pretty evident that the enterprise,
in the face of the then market prices and the artificially high rates
of freight, did not afford a sufficient profit.
[Exports.] In 1856 the exports of coffee were not more than seven
thousand piculs; in 1865 they had increased to thirty-seven thousand,
five hundred and eighty-eight; and in 1871, to fifty-three thousand,
three hundred and seventy. This increase, however, affords no criterion
by which to estimate the increase in the number of plantations,
for these make no returns for the first few years after being laid
out. In short, larger exports may be confidently expected. But even
greatly increased exports could not be taken as correct measures
of the colony's resources. Not till European capital calls large
plantations into existence in the most suitable localities will the
Philippines obtain their proper rank in the coffee-producing districts
of the world.
[Highest grades.] The best coffee comes from the provinces of
Laguna, Batangas and Cavite; the worst from Mindanao. The latter,
in consequence of careless treatment, is very impure, and generally
contains a quantity of bad beans. The coffee beans of Mindanao are
of a yellowish-white color and flabby; those of Laguna are smaller,
but much firmer in texture.
[French preference.] Manila coffee is very highly esteemed by
connoisseurs, and is very expensive, though it is by no means so
nice looking as that of Ceylon and other more carefully prepared
kinds. It is a remarkable fact that in 1865 France, which imported
only $21,000 worth of hemp from the Philippines, imported more than
$200,000 worth of Manila coffee, a third of the entire coffee produce
of the Islands. [82] Manila coffee is not much prized in London,
and does not fetch much more than good Ceylon ($15 per cwt.). [83]
This, however, is no reproach to the coffee, as every one acquainted
with an Englishman's appreciation of coffee will allow.
[Prices.] California, an excellent customer, always ready to give
a fair price for a good article, will in time become one of its
principal consumers. [84] In 1868, coffee in Manila itself cost
an average of $16 per picul. [85] In Java, the authorities pay the
natives, who are compelled to cultivate it, about $3.66 per picul.
[Philippine exports.] Although the amount of coffee exported from the
Philippines is trifling in comparison with the producing powers of the
colony, it compares favorably with the exports from other countries.
[Javan and Ceylon crops.] In my Sketches of Travel, I compared the
decrease of the coffee produced in Java under the forced system of
cultivation with the increase of that voluntarily grown in Ceylon,
and gave the Javanese produce for 1858 as sixty-seven thousand tons,
and the Cingalese as thirty-five thousand tons. Since that time the
relative decrease and increase have continued; and in 1866 the Dutch
Indies produced only fifty-six thousand tons, and Ceylon thirty-six
thousand tons. [86]
[Amateur scientists.] During my enforced stay in Daraga the natives
brought me mussels and snails for sale; and several of them wished
to enter my service, as they felt "a particular vocation for Natural
History." At last my kitchen was always full of them. They sallied
forth every day to collect insects, and as a rule were not particularly
fortunate in their search; but this was of no consequence; in fact,
it served to give them a fresh appetite for their meals. Some of the
neighboring Spaniards paid me almost daily visits; and several of
the native and mestizo dignitaries from a distance were good enough
to call upon me, not so much for the purpose of seeing my humble self
as of inspecting my hat, the fame of which had spread over the whole
province. It was constructed in the usual judicious mushroom shape,
covered with nito, [87] and its pinnacle was adorned with a powerful
oil lamp, furnished with a closely fitting lid, like that of a dark
lantern, so that it could be carried in the pocket. This last was
particularly useful when riding about on a dark night.
[Nito cigar cases.] In the neighboring pueblo cigar-cases were
made out of this nito. They are not of much use as an article of
commerce, and usually are only made to order. To obtain a dozen a
would-be purchaser must apply to as many individuals, who, at the
shortest, will condescend to finish one in a few months. The stalk
of the fern, which is about as thick as a lucifer match, is split
into four strips. The workman then takes a strip in his left hand,
and, with his thumb on the back and his forefinger on the edge, draws
the strips up and down against the knife blade until the soft pithy
parts are cut away, and what remains has become fine enough for the
next process. The cases are made on pointed cylindrical pieces of
wood almost a couple of feet long. A pin is stuck into the center
of the end of the cylinder, and the workman commences by fastening
the strips of fern stalk to it. The size of the case corresponds to
the diameter of the roller, and a small wooden disk is placed in the
bottom of the case to keep it steady while the sides are being plaited.
[A Filipino theater.] When my ankle began to get better, my
first excursion was to Legaspi, where some Filipinos were giving
a theatrical performance. A Spanish political refugee directed
the entertainment. On each side of the stage, roofed in with palm
leaves, ran covered galleries for the dignitaries of the place; the
uncovered space between these was set apart for the common people. The
performers had chosen a play taken from Persian history. The language
was Spanish, and the dresses were, to say the least, eccentric. The
stage was erected hard by a public street, which itself formed part
of the auditorium, and the noise was so great that I could only catch
a word here and there. The actors stalked on, chattering their parts,
which not one of them understood, and moving their arms up and down;
and when they reached the edge of the stage, they tacked and went back
again like ships sailing against the wind. Their countenances were
entirely devoid of expression, and they spoke like automatons. If I
had understood the words, the contrast between their meaning and the
machine-like movements of the actors would probably have been droll
enough; but, as it was, the noise, the heat, and the smoke were so
great that we soon left the place.
[An indifferent performance.] Both the theatrical performance and
the whole festival bore the impress of laziness, indifference, and
mindless mimicry. When I compared the frank cheerfulness I had seen
radiating from every countenance at the religious holidays of Europe
with the expressionless and immobile faces of the natives, I found it
difficult to understand how the latter were persuaded to waste so much
time and money upon a matter they seemed so thoroughly indifferent to.
[Interest in festival.] Travellers have remarked the same want of
gaiety amongst the Indians of America; and some of them ascribe it
to the small development of the nervous system prevalent among these
peoples, to which cause also they attribute their wonderful courage
in bearing pain. But Tylor observes that the Indian's countenance is
so different from ours that it takes us several years to rightly
interpret its expression. There probably is something in both
these explanations. And, although I observed no lively expression of
amusement among my native friends at Legaspi, I noticed that they took
the greatest possible pleasure in decorating their village, and that
the procession which formed part of the festival had extraordinary
charms for them. Every individual was dressed in his very best; and
the honor of carrying a banner inspired those who attained it with the
greatest pride, and raised an amazing amount of envy in the breasts of
the remainder. Visitors poured in from all the surrounding hamlets, and
erected triumphal arches which they had brought with them ready-made
and which bore some complimentary inscription. I am obliged to confess
that some of the holiday-makers were very drunk. The inhabitants of the
Philippines have a great love for strong drink; even the young girls
occasionally get intoxicated. When night came on, the strangers were
hospitably lodged in the dwellings of the village. On such occasions
native hospitality shows itself in a very favorable light. The door
of every house stands open, and even balls take place in some of the
larger hamlets. The Spanish and mestizo cavaliers, however, condescend
to dance only with mestiza partners, and very seldom invite a pretty
native girl to join them. The natives very rarely dance together; but
in Samar I was present on one occasion at a by no means ungraceful
native dance where "improvised" verses were sung. The male dancer
compared his partner with a rose, and she answered he should be
careful in touching it as a rose had thorns. This would have been
thought a charming compliment in the mouth of an Andalusian.
[Servant subterfuges.] The idle existence we spent in Daraga was so
agreeable to my servants and their numerous friends that they were
anxious I should stay there as long as possible; and they adopted some
very ingenious means to persuade me to do so. Twice, when everything
was prepared for a start the next morning, my shoes were stolen in the
night; and on another occasion they kidnapped my horse. When a native
has a particularly heavy load to carry, or a long journey to make,
he thinks nothing of coolly appropriating the well-fed beast of some
Spaniard; which, when he has done with it, he turns loose without
attempting to feed it, and it wanders about till somebody catches
it and stalls it in the nearest "Tribunal." There it is kept tied up
and hungry until its master claims it and pays its expenses. I had a
dollar to pay when I recovered mine, although it was nearly starved
to death, on the pretence that it had swallowed rice to that value
since it had been caught.
[Petty robberies.] Small robberies occur very frequently, but they
are committed--as an acquaintance, a man who had spent some time
in the country, informed me one evening when I was telling him my
troubles--only upon the property of new arrivals; old residents, he
said, enjoyed a prescriptive freedom from such little inconveniences. I
fancy some waggish native must have overheard our conversation, for
early the next morning my friend, the old resident, sent to borrow
chocolate, biscuits, and eggs of me, as his larder and his hen-house
had been rifled during the night.
[Daraga market.] Monday and Friday evenings were the Daraga market
nights, and in fine weather always afforded a pretty sight. The
women, neatly and cleanly clad, sat in long rows and offered their
provisions for sale by the light of hundreds of torches; and, when
the business was over, the slopes of the mountains were studded all
over with flickering little points of brightness proceeding from the
torches carried by the homeward-bound market women. Besides eatables,
many had silks and stuffs woven from the fibers of the pine-apple
and the banana for sale. These goods they carried on their heads;
and I noticed that all the younger women were accompanied by their
sweethearts, who relieved them of their burdens.
CHAPTER XI
[Change of season.] During the whole time I was confined to the
house at Daraga, the weather was remarkably fine; but unfortunately
the bright days had come to an end by the time I was ready to make a
start, for the north-east monsoon, the sure forerunner of rain in this
part of the Archipelago, sets in in October. In spite, however, of the
weather, I determined to make another attempt to ascend the mountain
at Bulusan. I found I could go by boat to Bacon in the Bay of Albay,
a distance of seven leagues, whence I could ride to Gubat, on the east
coast, three leagues further, and then in a southerly direction along
the shore to Bulusan. An experienced old native, who provided a boat
and crew, had appointed ten o'clock at night as the best time for
my departure. Just as we were about to start, however, we were told
that four piratical craft had been seen in the bay. In a twinkling,
the crew disappeared, and I was left alone in the darkness; and it
took me four hours with the assistance of a Spaniard to find them
again, and make a fresh start. About nine o'clock in the morning we
reached Bacon, whence I rode across a very flat country to San Roque,
where the road leading to Gubat took a sharp turn to the south-east,
and presently became an extremely bad one. After I had passed Gubat,
my way lay along the shore; and I saw several ruined square towers,
made of blocks of coral, and built by the Jesuits as a protection
against the [Moro pirates.] Moros, or "Moors"--a term here applied to
the pirates, because, like the Moors who were formerly in Spain, they
are Mahometans. They come from Mindanao and from the north-west coast
of Borneo. At the time of my visit, this part of the Archipelago was
greatly infested with them; and a few days before my arrival they had
carried off some fishermen, who were busy pulling their fish-stakes,
close to Gubat. A little distance from the shore, and parallel to it,
ran a coral reef, which during the south-west monsoon was here and
there bare at low tide; but, when the north-east wind blew, the waves
of the Pacific Ocean entirely concealed it. Upon this reef the storms
had cast up many remains of marine animals, and a quantity of fungi,
amongst which I noticed some exactly resembling the common sponge of
the Mediterranean. They were just as soft to the touch, of a dark brown
tint, as large as the fist, and of a conical shape. They absorbed water
with great readiness, and might doubtless be made a profitable article
of commerce. Samples of them are to be seen in the Zoological Museum at
Berlin. As I went further on, I found the road excellent; and wooden
bridges, all of which were in good repair, led me across the mouths
of the numerous small rivers. But almost all the arches of the stone
bridges I came to had fallen in, and I had to cross the streams they
were supposed to span in a small boat, and make my horse swim after
me. Just before I reached Bulusan, I had to cross a ravine several
hundred feet deep, composed almost entirely of white pumice stone.
[Bulusan.] Bulusan is so seldom visited by strangers that the
"tribunal" where I put up was soon full of curiosity-mongers, who came
to stare at me. The women, taking the places of honor, squatted round
me in concentric rows, while the men peered over their shoulders. One
morning when I was taking a shower-bath in a shed made of open bamboo
work, I suddenly noticed several pairs of inquisitive eyes staring
at me through the interstices. The eyes belonged exclusively to the
gentler sex; and their owners examined me with the greatest curiosity,
making remarks upon my appearance to one another, and seeming by no
means inclined to be disturbed. Upon another occasion, when bathing in
the open air in the province of Laguna, I was surrounded by a number of
women, old, middle-aged, and young, who crowded round me while I was
dressing, carefully inspected me, and pointed out with their fingers
every little detail which seemed to them to call for special remark.
[Storm damage.] I had travelled the last part of the road to Bulusan
in wind and rain; and the storm lasted with little intermission during
the whole night. When I got up in the morning I found that part of the
roof of the tribunal had been carried away, that the slighter houses
in the hamlet were all blown down, and that almost every dwelling in
the place had lost its roof. This pleasant weather lasted during the
three days of my stay. The air was so thick that I found it impossible
to distinguish the volcano, though I was actually standing at its
foot; and, as the weather-wise of the neighborhood could hold out no
promise of a favorable change at that time of the year, I put off my
intended ascent till a better opportunity, and resolved to return. A
former alcalde, Peneranda, was reported to have succeeded in reaching
the top fifteen years before, after sixty men had spent a couple of
months in building a road to the summit; and the ascent was said to
have taken him two whole days. But an experienced native told me that
in the dry season he thought four men were quite sufficient to open a
narrow path to the plateau, just under the peak, in a couple of days;
but that ladders were required to get on to the actual summit.
[Arrival of assistance.] The day after my arrival the inspector of
highways and another man walked into the tribunal, both of them wet to
the skin and nearly blown to pieces. My friend the alcalde had sent
them to my assistance; and, as none of us could attempt the ascent,
they returned with me. As we were entering Bacon on our way back,
we heard the report of cannon and the sound of music. Our servants
cried out "Here comes the alcalde," and in a few moments he drove up
in an open carriage, accompanied by an irregular escort of horsemen,
Spaniards and natives, the latter prancing about in silk hats and
shirts fluttering in the wind. The alcalde politely offered me a seat,
and an hour's drive took us into Sorsogon.
[Albay roads and bridges.] The roads of the province of Albay are good,
but they are by no means kept in good repair: a state of things that
will never be remedied so long as the indolence of the authorities
continues. Most of the stone bridges in the district are in ruins,
and the traveller is obliged to content himself with wading through a
ford, or get himself ferried across upon a raft or in a small canoe,
while his horse swims behind him. The roads were first laid down in the
days of Alcalde Penaranda, a retired officer of the engineer corps,
whom we have already mentioned, and who deserves considerable praise
for having largely contributed to the welfare of his province, and
for having accomplished so much from such small resources. He took
care that all socage service should be duly rendered, or that money,
which went towards paying for tools and materials, should be paid
in lieu of it. Many abuses existed before his rule; no real services
were performed by anybody who could trace the slightest relationship
to any of the authorities; and, when by chance any redemption money
was paid, it went, often with the connivance of the alcalde of the
period, into the pockets of the gobernadorcillos, instead of into the
provincial treasury. Similar abuses still prevail all over the country,
where they are not prevented by the vigilance of the authorities. The
numerous population, and the prosperity which the province now enjoys,
would make it an easy matter to maintain and complete the existing
highways. The admirable officials of the district are certainly
not wanting in good-will, but their hands are tied. Nowadays the
alcaldes remain only three years in one province (in Penaranda's
time, they remained six); their time is entirely taken up with
the current official and judicial business; and, just as they are
beginning to become acquainted with the capabilities and requirements
of their district, they are obliged to leave it. [Handicapped
officials.] This shows the government's want of confidence in its
own servants. No alcalde could now possibly undertake what Penaranda
accomplished. The money paid in lieu of socage service, which ought to
be applied to the wants of the province in which the socage is due, is
forwarded to Manila. If an alcalde proposes some urgent and necessary
improvement, he has to send in so many tedious estimates and reports,
which frequently remain unnoticed, that he soon loses all desire to
attempt any innovation. Estimates for large works, to carry out which
would require a considerable outlay, are invariably returned from
headquarters marked "not urgent." [Funds diverted to Spain.] The fact
is not that the colonial government is wanting in good-will, but that
the Caja de Comunidad (General Treasury) in Manila is almost always
empty, as the Spanish government, in its chronic state of bankruptcy,
borrows the money and is never in a position to return it.
[Sorsogon earthquake.] In 1840 Sorsogon suffered severely from an
earthquake, which lasted almost continuously for thirty-five days. It
raged with the greatest fury on the 21st of March. The churches, both
of Sorsogon and of Casiguran, as well as the smallest stone houses,
were destroyed; seventeen persons lost their lives, and two hundred
were injured; and the whole neighborhood sank five feet below its
former level.
[Casiguran.] The next morning I accompanied the alcalde in a falua
(felucca), manned by fourteen rowers, to Casiguran, which lies directly
south of Sorsogon, on the other side of a small bay, of two leagues
in breadth, which it took us an hour and a half to cross. The bay was
as calm as an inland lake. It is almost entirely surrounded by hills,
and its western side, which is open to the sea, is protected by the
Island of Bagalao, which lies in front of it. As soon as we landed,
we were received with salutes of cannon and music, and flags and
shirts streamed in the wind. I declined the friendly invitation of the
alcalde to accompany him any further; as to me, who had no official
business to transact, the journey seemed nothing but a continually
recurring panorama of dinners, lunches, cups of chocolate, music,
and detonations of gunpowder.
[Quicksilver.] In 1850 quicksilver was discovered on a part of the
coast now covered by the sea. I examined the reported bed of the
deposit, and it appeared to me to consist of a stratum of clay six feet
in depth, superimposed over a layer of volcanic sand and fragments
of pumice stone. An Englishman who was wrecked in this part of the
Archipelago, the same individual I met at the iron works at Angat, had
begun to collect it, and by washing the sand had obtained something
like a couple of ounces. Somebody, however, told the priest of the
district that quicksilver was a poison; and, as he himself told me,
so forcibly did he depict the dangerous nature of the new discovery to
his parishioners that they abandoned the attempt to collect it. Since
then none of them have ever seen a vestige of mercury, unless it might
be from some broken old barometer. Towards evening Mount Bulusan in
the south-east, and Mount Mayon in the north-west, were visible for
a short time. They are both in a straight line with Casiguran.
[Sea's encroachments.] Every year the sea makes great inroads upon
the coast at Casiguran; as far as I could decide from its appearance
and from the accounts given me, about a yard of the shore is annually
destroyed. The bay of Sorsogon is protected towards the north by a
ridge of hills, which suddenly terminate, however, at its north-eastern
angle; and through this opening the wind sometimes blows with great
fury, and causes considerable havoc in the bay, the more particularly
as its coast is principally formed of clay and sand.
[Pirate rumors and robberies.] When I reached Legaspi again in the
evening I learnt that the alarm about the pirates which had interrupted
my departure had not been an idle one. Moros they certainly could
not have been, for at that season none of the Mahometan corsairs
could reach that part of the coast; but they were a band of deserters
and vagabonds from the surrounding country, who in this part of the
world find it more agreeable to pursue their freebooting career on
sea than on land. During my absence they had committed many robberies
and carried off several people. [88]
[Real pirates.] The beginning of November is the season of storms;
when water communication between Albay and Manila entirely ceases,
no vessel daring to put out to sea, even from the south coast. On
the 9th of the month, however, a vessel that had been given up for
lost entered the port, after having incurred great perils and being
obliged to throw overboard the greater part of its cargo. Within twelve
days of its leaving the straits of San Bernardino behind it, a sudden
storm compelled it to anchor amongst the Islands of Balicuatro. One
of the passengers, a newly-arrived Spaniard, put off in a boat with
seven sailors, and made for four small vessels which were riding at
anchor off the coast; taking them for fishermen, whereas they were
pirates. They fired at him as soon as he was some distance from his
ship, and his crew threw themselves into the water; but both he and
they were taken prisoners. The captain of the trading brig, fearing
that his vessel would fall into their clutches, slipped anchor and put
out to sea again, escaping shipwreck with the greatest difficulty. The
pirates, as a rule, do not kill their prisoners, but employ them as
rowers. But Europeans seldom survive their captivity: the tremendous
labor and the scanty food are too much for them. Their clothes always
being stripped off their back, they are exposed naked to all sorts
of weather, and their sole daily support is a handful of rice.
CHAPTER XII
[Camarines.] No favorable change in the weather was expected in
Albay before the month of January. It stormed and rained all day. I
therefore determined to change my quarters to South Camarines, which,
protected from the monsoon by the high range of hills running along
its north-eastern boundary, enjoyed more decent weather. The two
provinces of Camarines form a long continent, with its principal
frontage of shore facing to the north-east and to the south-west;
which is about ten leagues broad in its middle, and has its shores
indented by many bays. From about the center of its north-eastern
shore there boldly projects the Peninsula of Caramuan, connected with
the mainland of Camarines by the isthmus of Isarog. The north-eastern
portion of the two provinces contains a long range of volcanic hills;
the south-western principally consisted, as far as my investigations
permitted me to discover, of chalk, and coral reefs; in the midst
of the hills extends a winding and fertile valley, which collects
the waters descending from the slopes of the mountain ranges, and
blends them into a navigable river, on the banks of which several
flourishing hamlets have established themselves. This river is called
the Bicol. The streams which give it birth are so abundant, and the
slope of the sides of the valley, which is turned into one gigantic
rice-field, is so gentle that in many places the lazy waters linger
and form small lakes.
[A chain of volcanoes.] Beginning at the south-eastern extremity, the
volcanoes of Bulusan, Albay, Mazaraga, Iriga, Isarog, and Colasi--the
last on the northern side of San Miguel bay--are situated in a straight
line, extending from the south-east to the north-west. Besides these,
there is the volcano of Buhi, or Malinao, a little to the north-east of
the line. The hamlets in the valley I have mentioned are situated in
a second line parallel to that of the volcanoes. The southern portion
of the province is sparsely inhabited, and but few streams find their
way from its plateau into the central valley. The range of volcanoes
shuts out, as I have said, the north-east winds, and condenses their
moisture in the little lakes scattered on its slopes. The south-west
portion of Camarines, therefore, is dry during the north-east monsoon,
and enjoys its rainy season during the prevalence of the winds that
blow from the south-west. The so-called dry season which, so far as
South Camarines is concerned, begins in November, is interrupted,
however, by frequent showers; but from January to May scarcely a drop
of rain falls. The change of monsoon takes place in May and June;
and its arrival is announced by violent thunderstorms and hurricanes,
which frequently last without cessation for a couple of weeks, and
are accompanied by heavy rains. These last are the beginning of the
wet season proper, which lasts till October. The road passes the
hamlets of Camalig, Guinobatan, Ligao, Oas and Polangui, situated
in a straight line on the banks of the river Quinali, which, after
receiving numerous tributary streams, becomes navigable soon after
passing Polangui. Here I observed a small settlement of huts, which
is called after the river. Each of the hamlets I have mentioned, with
the exception of the last, has a population of about fourteen thousand
souls, although they are situated not more than half a league apart.
[Priestly assistance.] The convents in this part of the country are
large, imposing buildings, and their incumbents, who were mostly old
men, were most hospitable and kind to me. Every one of them insisted
upon my staying with him, and, after doing all he could for me, passed
me on to his next colleague with the best recommendations. I wished
to hire a boat at Polangui to cross the lake of Batu, but the only
craft I could find were a couple of barotos about eight feet long,
hollowed out of the trunks of trees and laden with rice. To prevent
my meeting with any delay, the padre purchased the cargo of one of
the boats, on the condition of its being immediately unladen; and
this kindness enabled me to continue my journey in the afternoon.
[The priests' importance.] If a traveller gets on good terms with
the priests he seldom meets with any annoyances. Upon one occasion
I wished to make a little excursion directly after lunch, and at a
quarter past eleven everything was ready for a start; when I happened
to say that it was a pity to have to wait three-quarters of an hour
for the meal. In a minute or two twelve o'clock struck; all work in
the village ceased, and we sat down to table: it was noon. A message
had been sent to the village bell-ringer that the Senor Padre thought
he must be asleep, and that it must be long past twelve as the Senor
Padre was hungry. Il est l'heure que votre Majeste desire.
[Franciscan friars.] Most of the priests in the eastern provinces of
Luzon and Samar are Franciscan monks (The barefooted friars of the
orthodox and strictest rule of Our Holy Father St. Francis, in the
Philippine Islands, of the Holy and Apostolic Province of St. Gregory
the Great), brought up in seminaries in Spain specially devoted to the
colonial missions. Formerly they were at liberty, after ten years'
residence in the Philippines, to return to their own country; but,
since the abolition of the monasteries in Spain, they can do this
no longer, for they are compelled in the colonies to abandon all
obedience to the rule of their order, and to live as laymen. They are
aware that they must end their days in the colony, and regulate their
lives accordingly. On their first arrival they are generally sent to
some priest in the province to make themselves acquainted with the
language of the country; then they are installed into a small parish,
and afterwards into a more lucrative one, in which they generally
remain till their death. Most of them spring from the very lowest
class of Spaniards. A number of pious trusts and foundations in Spain
enable a very poor man, who cannot afford to send his son to school,
to put him into a religious seminary, where, beyond the duties of
his future avocation, the boy learns nothing. If the monks were of
a higher social grade, as are some of the English missionaries, they
would have less inclination to mix with the common people, and would
fail to exercise over them the influence they wield at present. The
early habits of the Spanish monks, and their narrow knowledge of the
world, peculiarly fit them for an existence among the natives. This
mental equality, or rather, this want of mental disparity, has enabled
them to acquire the influence they undoubtedly possess.
[Young men developed by responsibility.] When these young men
first come from their seminaries they are narrow-brained, ignorant,
frequently almost devoid of education, and full of conceit, hatred of
heretics, and proselytish ardor. These failings, however, gradually
disappear; the consideration and the comfortable incomes they enjoy
developing their benevolence. The insight into mankind and the
confidence in themselves which distinguish the lower classes of the
Spaniards, and which are so amusingly exemplified in Sancho Panza,
have plenty of occasions to display themselves in the responsible
and influential positions which the priests occupy. The padre is
frequently the only white man in his village, probably the only
European for miles around. He becomes the representative not only
of religion, but of the government; he is the oracle of the natives,
and his decisions in everything that concerns Europe and civilization
are without appeal. His advice is asked in all important emergencies,
and he has no one whom he in his turn can consult. Such a state
of things naturally develops his brain. The same individuals who
in Spain would have followed the plough, in the colonies carry out
great undertakings. Without any technical education, and without any
scientific knowledge, they build churches and bridges, and construct
roads. [Poor architects.] The circumstances therefore are greatly in
favor of the development of priestly ability; but it would probably
be better for the buildings if they were erected by more experienced
men, for the bridges are remarkably prone to fall in, the churches
look like sheep-pens, and the roads soon go to rack and ruin. I
had much intercourse in Camarines and Albay with the priests, and
conceived a great liking for them all. As a rule, they are the most
unpretending of men; and a visit gives them so much pleasure that
they do all in their power to make their guest's stay as agreeable as
possible. Life in a large convent has much resemblance to that of a
lord of the manor in Eastern Europe. Nothing can be more unconstrained,
more unconventional. A visitor lives as independently as in an hotel,
and many of the visitors behave themselves as if it were one. I have
seen a subaltern official arrive, summon the head servant, move into
a room, order his meal, and then inquire casually whether the padre,
who was an utter stranger to him, was at home.
The priests of the Philippines have often been reproached with gross
immorality. They are said to keep their convents full of bevies of
pretty girls, and to lead somewhat the same sort of life as the Grand
Turk. This may be true of the native padres; but I myself never saw,
in any of the households of the numerous Spanish priests I visited,
anything that could possibly cause the least breath of scandal. Their
servants were exclusively men, though perhaps I may have noticed
here and there an old woman or two. Ribadeneyra says:--"The natives,
who observe how careful the Franciscan monks are of their chastity,
have arrived at the conclusion that they are not really men, and
that, though the devil had often attempted to lead these holy men
astray, using the charms of some pretty Indian girl as a bait, yet,
to the confusion of both damsel and devil, the monks had always
come scathless out of the struggle." Ribadeneyra, however, is a very
unreliable author; and, if his physiological mistakes are as gross as
his geographical ones (he says somewhere that Luzon is another name
for the island of Cebu!), the monks are not perhaps as fireproof as
he supposes. At any rate, his description does not universally apply
nowadays. The younger priests pass their existence like the lords of
the soil of old; the young girls consider it an honor to be allowed to
associate with them; and the padres in their turn find many convenient
opportunities. They have no jealous wives to pry into their secrets,
and their position as confessors and spiritual advisers affords them
plenty of pretexts for being alone with the women. The confessional,
in particular, must be a perilous rock-a-head for most of them. In
an appendix to the "Tagal Grammar" (which, by-the-bye, is not added
to the editions sold for general use) a list of questions is given
for the convenience of young priests not yet conversant with the
Tagal language. These questions are to be asked in the confessional,
and several pages of them relate exclusively to the relations between
the sexes.
[Superiority over government officials.] As the alcaldes remain only
three years in any one province, they never understand much of its
language; and, being much occupied with their official business,
they have neither the time nor the desire to become acquainted
with the peculiarities of the districts over which they rule. The
priest, on the other hand, resides continually in the midst of his
parishioners, is perfectly acquainted with each of them, and even,
on occasion, protects them against the authorities; his, therefore,
is the real jurisdiction in the district. The position of the priests,
in contradistinction to that of the government officials, is well
expressed by their respective dwellings. The casas reales, generally
small, ugly, and frequently half-ruined habitations, are not suited
to the dignity of the chief authority of the province. The convento,
on the contrary, is almost always a roomy, imposing, and well-arranged
building. In former days, when governorships were sold to adventurers
whose only care was to enrich themselves, the influence of the minister
of religion was even greater than it is now. [89]
[Former legal status.] The following extract from the General
Orders, given by Le Gentil, will convey a clear idea of their former
position:--
"Whereas the tenth chapter of the ordinances, wherein the governor of
Arandia ordained that the alcaldes and the justices should communicate
with the missionary priests only by letter, and that they should never
hold any interview with them except in the presence of a witness, has
been frequently disobeyed, it is now commanded that these disobediences
shall no longer be allowed; and that the alcaldes shall make it their
business to see that the priests and ministers of religion treat the
gobernadorcillos and the subaltern officers of justice with proper
respect, and that the aforesaid priests be not allowed either to beat,
chastise, or ill-treat the latter, or make them wait at table."
[Alcaldes formerly in trade.] The former alcaldes who, without
experience in official business, without either education or knowledge,
and without either the brains or the moral qualifications for such
responsible and influential posts, purchased their appointments from
the State, or received them in consequence of successful intrigues,
received a nominal salary from the government, and paid it tribute for
the right to carry on trade. Arenas considered this tribute paid by the
alcaldes as a fine imposed upon them for an infringement of the law;
"for several ordinances were in existence, strenuously forbidding
them to dabble in any kind of commerce, until it pleased his Catholic
Majesty to grant them a dispensation." The latter sources of mischief
were, however, abolished by royal decree in September and October,
1844.
[Their borrowed capital.] The alcaldes were at the same time governors,
magistrates, commanders of the troops, and, in reality, the only
traders in their province. [90] They purchased with the resources
of the obras pias the articles required in the province; and they
were entirely dependent for their capital upon these endowments,
as they almost always arrived in the Philippines without any means
of their own. The natives were forced to sell their produce to the
alcaldes and, besides, to purchase their goods at the prices fixed
by the latter. [91] In this corrupt state of things the priests were
the only protectors of the unfortunate Filipinos; though occasionally
they also threw in their lot with the alcaldes, and shared in the
spoil wrung from their unfortunate flocks.
[Improvement in present appointees.] Nowadays men with some knowledge
of the law are sent out to the Philippines as alcaldes; the government
pays them a small salary, and they are not allowed to trade. The
authorities also attempt to diminish the influence of the priests by
improving the position of the civil tribunals; a state of things they
will not find easy of accomplishment unless they lengthen the period
of service of the alcaldes, and place them in a pecuniary position
that will put them beyond the temptation of pocketing perquisites. [92]
In Huc's work on China I find the following passage, relating to the
effects of the frequent official changes in China, from which many
hints may be gathered:--
[Similarity with Chinese conditions.] "The magisterial offices
are no longer bestowed upon upright and just individuals and, as a
consequence, this once flourishing and well-governed kingdom is day
by day falling into decay, and is rapidly gliding down the path that
leads to a terrible and, perhaps, speedy dissolution. When we seek
to discover the cause of the general ruin, the universal corruption
which too surely is undermining all classes of Chinese society, we are
convinced that it is to be found in the complete abandonment of the
old system of government effected by the Manchu dynasty. It issued
a decree forbidding any mandarin to hold any post longer than three
years in the same province, and prohibiting any one from possessing
any official appointment in his native province. One does not form
a particularly high idea of the brain which conceived this law; but,
when the Manchu Tartars found that they were the lords of the empire,
they began to be alarmed at their small numbers, which were trifling
in comparison with the countless swarms of the Chinese; and they
dreaded lest the influence which the higher officials would acquire
in their districts might enable them to excite the populace against
their foreign rulers.
[Unidentified with country.] "The magistrates, being allowed to
remain only a year or two in the same province, lived there like
strangers, without acquainting themselves with the wants of the people
they governed; there was no tie between them. The only care of the
mandarins was to amass as much wealth as possible before they quitted
their posts; and they then began the same game in a fresh locality,
until finally they returned home in possession of a handsome fortune
gradually collected in their different appointments. They were only
birds of passage. What did it matter? The morrow would find them
at the other end of the kingdom, where the cries of their plundered
victims would be unable to reach them. In this manner the governmental
policy rendered the mandarins selfish and indifferent. The basis
of the monarchy is destroyed, for the magistrate is no longer a
paternal ruler residing amongst and mildly swaying his children, but a
marauder, who arrives no man knows whence, and who departs no one knows
whither. The consequence is universal stagnation; no great undertakings
are accomplished; and the works and labors of former dynasties are
allowed to fall into decay. The mandarins say to themselves: 'Why
should we undertake what we can never accomplish? Why should we sow
that others may reap?'... They take no interest in the affairs of the
district; as a rule, they are suddenly transplanted into the midst of
a population whose dialect even they do not understand. [Dependence on
interpreters.] When they arrive in their mandarinates they usually find
interpreters, who, being permanent officieals and interested in the
affairs of the place, know how to make their services indispensable;
and these in reality are the absolute rulers of the district."
[Importance of interpreters in Philippines.] Interpreters are
especially indispensable in the Philippines, where the alcaldes never
by any chance understand any of the local dialects. In important
matters the native writers have generally to deal with the priest,
who in many cases becomes the virtual administrator of authority. He is
familiar with the characters of the inhabitants and all their affairs,
in the settlement of which his intimate acquaintance with the female
sex stands him in good stead. An eminent official in Madrid told me
in 1867 that the then minister was considering a proposal to abolish
the restriction of office in the colonies to three years. [93]
[Fear of officials' popularity.] The dread which caused this
restriction, viz., that an official might become too powerful in some
distant province, and that his influence might prove a source of danger
to the mother country, is no longer entertained. Increased traffic
and easier means of communication have destroyed the former isolation
of the more distant provinces. The customs laws, the increasing demand
for colonial produce, and the right conceded to foreigners of settling
in the country, will give a great stimulus to agriculture and commerce,
and largely increase the number of Chinese and European residents. Then
at last, perhaps, the authorities will see the necessity of improving
the social position of their officials by decreasing their number,
by a careful selection of persons, by promoting them according to
their abilities and conduct, and by increasing their salaries, and
allowing them to make a longer stay in one post. The commercial
relations of the Philippines with California and Australia are
likely to become very active, and liberal ideas will be introduced
from those free countries. Then, indeed, the mother country will
have earnestly to consider whether it is advisable to continue its
exploitation of the colony by its monopolies, its withdrawal of gold,
and its constant satisfaction of the unfounded claims of a swarm of
hungry place-hunters. [94]
[Different English and Dutch policy.] English and Dutch colonial
officials are carefully and expressly educated for their difficult
and responsible positions. They obtain their appointments after
passing a stringent examination at home, and are promoted to the
higher colonial offices only after giving proofs of fitness and
ability. What a different state of things prevails in Spain! When a
Spaniard succeeds in getting an appointment, it is difficult to say
whether it is due to his personal capacity and merit or to a series
of successful political intrigues. [95]
CHAPTER XIII
[Batu.] In an hour and a half after leaving Polangui we reached Batu,
a village on the north-western shore of the lake of the same name. The
inhabitants, particularly the women, struck me by their ugliness
and want of cleanliness. Although they lived close to the lake, and
drew their daily drinking water from it, they never appeared to use
it for the purpose of washing. The streets of the village also were
dirty and neglected; a circumstance explained, perhaps, by the fact
of the priest being a native.
[The lake.] Towards the end of the rainy season, in November, the
lake extends far more widely than it does in the dry, and overflows
its shallow banks, especially to the south-west. A great number of
water-plants grow on its borders; amongst which I particularly noticed
a delicate seaweed [96], as fine as horse hair, but intertwined in such
close and endless ramifications that it forms a flooring strong enough
to support the largest waterfowl. I saw hundreds of them hopping about
and eating the shell fish and prawns, which swarmed amidst the meshes
of the net-like seaweed and fell an easy prey to their feathered
enemies. The natives, too, were in the habit of catching immense
quantities of the prawns with nets made for the purpose. Some they
ate fresh; and some they kept till they were putrid, like old cheese,
and then used them as a relish to swallow with their rice. These
small shell-fish are not limited to the Lake of Batu. They are caught
in shoals in both the salt and the fresh waters of the Philippine
and Indian archipelagos, and, when salted and dried by the natives,
form an important article of food, eaten either in soup or as a kind
of potted paste. They are found in every market, and are largely
exported to China. I was unable to shoot any of the waterfowl, for
the tangles of the seaweed prevented my boat from getting near them.
[A neglected product.] When I revisited the same lake in February,
I found its waters so greatly fallen that they had left a circular
belt of shore extending all around the lake, in most places nearly a
hundred feet broad. The withdrawal of the waters had compressed the
tangled seaweed into a kind of matting, which, bleached by the sun,
and nearly an inch thick, covered the whole of the shore, and hung
suspended over the stunted bushes which, on my first visit, had
been under water. I have never either seen elsewhere, or heard any
one mention, a similar phenomenon. This stuff, which could be had
for nothing, was excellent for rifle-stoppers and for the stuffing
of birds, so I took a great quantity of it with me. This time the
bird-hunting went well, too.
The native priest of Batu was full of complaints about his
parishioners, who gave him no opportunities of gaining an honest
penny. "I am never asked for a mass, sir; in fact, this is such a
miserable hole that it is shunned by Death itself. In D., where I was
for a long time coadjutor, we had our couple of burials regularly
every day at three dollars a head, and as many masses at a dollar
apiece as we had time to say, besides christenings and weddings,
which always brought a little more grist to the mill. But here
nothing takes place, and I scarcely make anything." This stagnant
state of things had induced him to turn his attention to commerce. The
average native priest, of those I saw, could hardly be called a credit
to his profession. Generally ignorant, often dissipated, and only
superficially acquainted with his duties, the greater part of his
time was given over to gambling, drinking, and other objectionable
amusements. Little care was taken to preserve a properly decorous
behavior, except when officiating in the church, when they read with
an absurd assumption of dignity, without understanding a single
word. The conventos are often full of girls and children, all of
whom help themselves with their fingers out of a common dish. The
worthy padre of Batu introduced a couple of pretty girls to me as
his two poor sisters, whom, in spite of his poverty, he supported;
but the servants about the place openly spoke of these young ladies'
babies as being the children of the priest.
[The native clergy.] The guiding principle of Spanish colonial
policy--to set one class against another, and to prevent either from
becoming too powerful--seems to be the motive for placing so many
native incumbents in the parsonages of the Archipelago. The prudence of
this proceeding, however, seems doubtful. A Spanish priest has a great
deal of influence in his own immediate circle, and forms, perhaps,
the only enduring link between the colony and the mother-country. The
native priest is far from affording any compensation for the lack
of either of these advantages. He generally is but little respected
by his flock, and certainly does nothing to attach them to Spain;
for he hates and envies his Spanish brethren, who leave him only the
very worst appointments, and treat him with contempt.
[Nabua.] I rode from Batu to Nabua over a good road in half an
hour. The country was flat, with rice-fields on both sides of the
road; but, while in Batu the rice was only just planted, in Nabua it
already was almost ripe. I was unable to obtain any explanation of
this incongruity, and know not how to account for such a difference
of climate between two hamlets situated in such close proximity to
one another, and separated by no range of hills. The inhabitants of
both were ugly and dirty, and were different in these respects from
the Tagalogs. Nabua, a place of 10,875 inhabitants, is intersected by
several small streams, whose waters, pouring down from the eastern
hills, form a small lake, which empties itself into the river
Bicol. Just after passing the second bridge beyond Nabua the road,
inclining eastwards, wends in a straight line to Iriga, a place lying
to the south-west of the volcano of the same name.
[Remontados.] I visited a small settlement of pagans situated on the
slope of the volcano. The people of the plains call them indifferently
Igorots, Cimarrons, Remontados, Infieles, or Montesinos. None
of these names, however, with the exception of the two last, are
appropriate ones. The first is derived from the term applied in the
north of the Island to the mixed descendants of Chinese and Filipino
parents. The word Cimarron (French, marrow) is borrowed from the
American slave colonies, where it denoted negroes who escaped from
slavery and lived in a state of freedom; but here it is applied to
natives who prefer a wild existence to the comforts of village life,
which they consider are overbalanced by the servitude and bondage
which accompany them. The term Remontado explains itself, and has
the same signification as Cimarron. As the difference between the
two states--on account of the mildness of the climate, and the
ease with which the wants of the natives are supplied--is far less
than it would be in Europe, these self-constituted exiles are more
frequently to be met with than might be supposed; the cause of their
separation from their fellowmen sometimes being some offence against
the laws, sometimes annoying debts, and sometimes a mere aversion to
the duties and labors of village life. Every Filipino has an innate
inclination to abandon the hamlets and retire into the solitude of
the woods, or live isolated in the midst of his own fields; and it
is only the village prisons and the priests--the salaries of the
latter are proportionate to the number of their parishioners--that
prevent him from gradually turning the pueblos into visitas, [97]
and the latter into ranchos. Until a visit to other ranchos in the
neighborhood corrected my first impression, I took the inhabitants of
the slopes of the Iriga for cross-breeds between the low-landers and
negritos. The color of their skin was not black, but a dark brown,
scarcely any darker than that of Filipinos who have been much exposed
to the sun; and only a few of them had woolly hair. The negritos whom
I saw at Angat and Mariveles knew nothing whatever about agriculture,
lived in the open air, and supported themselves upon the spontaneous
products of nature; but the half-savages of the Iriga dwell in decent
huts, and cultivate several vegetables and a little sugar-cane. No
pure negritos, as far as I could ascertain, are to be met with in
Camarines. A thickly-populated province, only sparsely dotted with
lofty hills, would be ill-suited for the residence of a nomadic
hunting race ignorant of agriculture.
[Iriga settlements.] The ranchos on the Iriga are very accessible,
and their inhabitants carry on a friendly intercourse with the
lowlanders; indeed, if they didn't, they would have been long
ago exterminated. In spite of these neighborly communications,
however, they have preserved many of their own primitive manners and
customs. The men go about naked with the exception of a cloth about the
loins; and the women are equally unclad, some of them perhaps wearing
an apron reaching from the hip to the knee. [98] In the larger ranchos
the women were decently clad in the usual Filipino fashion. Their
household belongings consisted of a few articles made of bamboo, a
few calabashes of coconut-shell, and an earthen cooking-pot, and bows
and arrows. [Poison arrows.] These latter are made very carefully,
the shaft from reeds, the point from a sharp-cut bamboo, or from a
palm-tree, with one to three sharp points. In pig-hunting iron-pointed
poison arrows are used. [Crucifixes.] Although the Igorots are not
Christians, they decorate their huts with crucifixes, which they use
as talismans. If they were of no virtue, an old man remarked to me, the
Spaniards would not employ them so numerously. [99] The largest rancho
I visited was nominally under the charge of a captain, who, however,
had little real power. At my desire he called to some naked boys idly
squatting about on the trees, who required considerable persuasion
before they obeyed his summons; but a few small presents--brazen
earrings and combs for the women, and cigars for the men--soon put
me on capital terms with them.
[Mt. Iriga.] After a vain attempt to reach the top of the Iriga volcano
I started for Buhi, a place situated on the southern shore of the lake
of that name. Ten minutes after leaving Iriga I reached a spot where
the ground sounded hollow beneath my horse's feet. A succession of
small hillocks, about fifty feet high, bordered each side of the road;
and towards the north I could perceive the huge crater of the Iriga,
which, in the distance, appeared like a truncated cone. I had the
curiosity to ascend one of the hillocks, which, seen from its summit,
looked like the remains of some former crater, which had probably
been destroyed by an earthquake and split up into these small mounds.
[Advertising.] When I got to Buhi the friendly priest had it
proclaimed by sound of drum that the newly-arrived strangers wished
to obtain all kinds of animals, whether of earth, of air, or of water;
and that each and all would be paid for in cash. The natives, however,
only brought us moths, centipedes, and other vermin, which, besides
enabling them to have a good stare at the strangers, they hoped to
turn into cash as extraordinary curiosities.
[A church procession.] The following day I was the spectator of a
gorgeous procession. First came the Spanish flag, then the village
kettle-drums, and a small troop of horsemen in short jackets and
shirts flying in the wind, next a dozen musicians, and finally, as
the principal figure, a man carrying a crimson silk standard. The
latter individual evidently was deeply conscious of his dignified
position, and his countenance eloquently expressed the quantity of
palm wine he had consumed in honor of the occasion. He sat on his
horse dressed out in the most absurd manner in a large cocked hat
trimmed with colored paper instead of gold lace, with a woman's cape
made of paper outside his coat, and with short, tight-fitting yellow
breeches and immense white stockings and shoes. Both his coat and his
breeches were liberally ornamented with paper trimmings. His steed,
led by a couple of cabezas, was appointed with similar trappings. After
marching through all the streets of the village the procession came
to a halt in front of the church.
[Papal concessions to Spain.] This festival is celebrated every year
in commemoration of the concession made by the Pope to the King of
Spain permitting the latter to appropriate to his own use certain
revenues of the Church. The Spanish Throne consequently enjoys the
right of conferring different indulgences, even for serious crimes, in
the name of the Holy See. This right, which, so to speak, it acquired
wholesale, it sells by retail to its customers (it formerly disposed
of it to the priests) in the estanco, and together with its other
monopolies, such as tobacco, brandy, lottery tickets, stamped paper,
etc., all through the agency of the priests; without the assistance
of whom very little business would be done. The receipts from the
sale of these indulgences have always been very fluctuating. In 1819
they amounted to $15,930; in 1839 to $36,390; and in 1860 they were
estimated at $58,954. In the year 1844-5 they rose to $292,115. The
cause of this large increase was that indulgences were then rendered
compulsory; so many being alloted to each family, with the assistance
and under the superintendence of the priests and tax-collectors who
received a commission of five and eight per cent on the gross amount
collected. [100]
[Lake Buhi.] The Lake of Buhi (300 feet above the sea-level) presents
an extremely picturesque appearance, surrounded as it is on all sides
by hills fully a thousand feet high; and its western shore is formed by
what still remains of the Iriga volcano. I was informed by the priests
of the neighboring hamlets that the volcano, until the commencement
of the seventeenth century, had been a closed cone, and that the
lake did not come into existence till half of the mountain fell in,
at the time of its great eruption. This statement I found confirmed
in the pages of the Estado Geografico:--"On the fourth of January,
1641--a memorable day, for on that date all the known volcanoes of
the Archipelago began to erupt at the same hour--a lofty hill in
Camarines, inhabited by heathens, fell in, and a fine lake sprang
into existence upon its site. The then inhabitants of the village of
Buhi migrated to the shores of the new lake, which, on this account,
was henceforward called the Lake of Buhi."
[1628 Camarines earthquake.] Perrey, in the Memoires de l'Academie
de Dijon, mentions another outbreak which took place in Camarines in
1628: "In 1628, according to trustworthy reports, fourteen different
shocks of earthquake occurred on the same day in the province of
Camarines. Many buildings were thrown down, and from one large
mountain which the earthquake rent asunder there issued such an
immense quantity of water that the whole neighborhood was flooded,
trees were torn up by the roots, and, in one hour, from the seashore
all plains were covered with water (the direct distance to the shore
is two and one-half leagues). [101]
[A mistranslation.] It is very strange that the text given in the
footnote does not agree with A. Perrey's translation. The former does
not mention that water came out of the mountains and says just the
contrary, that trees, which were torn up by the roots, took the place
of the sea for one hour on the shore, so that no water could be seen.
[Unreliable authorities.] The data of the Estado Geografico are apt to
create distrust as the official report on the great earthquake of 1641
describes in detail the eruptions of three volcanoes, which happened at
the same time (of these two were in the South of the Archipelago and
one in Northern Luzon) while Camarines is not mentioned at all. This
suspicion is further strengthened by the fact that the same author
(Nierembergius) whose remarks on the eruptions of 1628 in Camarines
are quoted, gives in another book of his a detailed report on the
events of 1641 without mentioning this province. If one considers
the indifference of the friars toward such events in Nature, it is
not improbable that the eruptions of 1641 when a mountain fell in in
Northern Luzon and a lake took its place, has been transferred on the
Iriga. To illustrate the indifference it may be mentioned that even
the padres living at the foot of the Albay could not agree upon the
dates of its very last eruptions.
[Another attempt at mountain climbing.] When I was at Tambong, a small
hamlet on the shore of the lake belonging to the parochial district
of Buhi, I made a second unsuccessful attempt to reach the highest
point of the Iriga. We arrived in the evening at the southern point
of the crater's edge (1,041 meters above the level of the sea by my
barometrical observation), where a deep defile prevented our further
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