Skip to content

Sunday Morning May 6, 1900

Signal Offices, Iloilo.

And so five weeks have passed since the Sunday morning when the above was written in my room in the little hospital at Tagbilaran shut in by the dense foliage from which the lizards at night came out to utter their singular cries.

A queer weird little place which will will long remain in my mind as a spot shut in from the world. Indeed I think if I were ever tempted to play Robinson Crusoe Bohol would be my island. How distinctly I recall the Sunday afternoon of April 1. My writing done I lay on my bed — still weak from fever — and read the charming sketches of Dickens in his Italian and American notes. Then the stroll in the evening, the new moon, by the old church 1728 they say, the plaza and its little surrounding buildings, the narrow strait and island hills beyond. Then were dinner with the 44th the chat in the evening in the [illegible] of the music, and very good music, made by the Philippine band, and to bed at ten to be called at half past three for a start at four in order to avoid the heat of the day.

And so to continue my narrative:

I remember well the reluctance with which I turned out as a member of the guard called me promptly at half past three of Monday morning April 2, 1900. Outside in the main ward <of the hospital> patients and hospital attendants were sleeping soundly as I past [sic] out through the closed doors into the star lit street and cool — but as I could not help believing — fever laden air of the early morning. The changes at night: cold and dampness of the air at the place reminded me of the Roman campagna and fever seemed to walk  abroad then. Well, I found Hale dressing the Presidente not yet arrived with the carriages, so after a slight breakfast we were compelled to wait for some time. Finally, however, the President, Chief of Police, with two carriages were ready, and Hale and I in the first, with a pair of ponies and a native perched on the splash board like a monkey started about four forty five and just as the faint color of dawn began to show in the East. The morning was cool and an overcoat comfortable as we drove on over an excellent road bordered on either side by heavy foliage with a hut or two showing silent and dark at intervals. Presently, however, as the light increased natives began to appear, moving along the road or engaged in their morning avocations, the country grew more distinct and we found our self approaching a more hilly region on the right with low ground leading to the sea on the left, and presently crossed several <some> small rivers or estuaries extending into a foul swamp from the black ooze of which grew myriads of nipa palms <and [foul?] mangroves>. [Continuing?] northward the road ran around a hill and we found ourselves near a little village called Cortez which faces westward overlooking a considerable stream crossed by a ferry. Here the police guard — evidently warned in advance — paraded as we passed on to the crossing & just as the sun rose over the hill on which Cortez stands we were ferried over the river. This river really for the greater part [was?] estuary is deep and of considerable width <(about 50 yards)>. The ferry is made by boats covered by a bamboo matting, the whole drawn across by a fixed rope; but one carriage could pass at a time and after crossing Hale and I had ample time to consider the melancholy beginnings of an iron bridge lying on the northern shore, where the Spaniards had left it, far gone now in rust and decay. We were both struck by the tactical strength of the little town whose hill commands the road from Maribojoc, and would make the river crossing practically impossible if well defended. Hence had Tagbilaran been approached from the north and resistance here offered Cortez would have been a difficult problem. Well on we went along by the excellent road — almost a boulevard, & marked with Kilometer posts, across a pleasant open country well cultivated but with somewhat barren hills on the right; and so after a pleasant <charming> drive came to the little coast village of Maribojoc where we were to breakfast and pick up our escort sent out the night before <by [boat?]>. They were already there. We drove directly to the church in part of which the priest lived and there were received by the padre who offered the customary cigars, cigarettes, and thimble full of gin in the great bare room almost without furniture but looking out pleasantly over the sea, and the long stone pier where the fishing boats come. (Nearly all of the towns of this coast have piers of this kind extending perhaps four or five hundred feet into the sea, and giving a landing place for small boats at all tides. They are made of loosely piled fragments of coral rock.)

Maribojoc has no sheltered harbor, and the water off shore seems very shallow. The place is a small unimportant town, but like most others has a really fine good stone church and the usual two schools one for little boys, the other for little girls. The church seems to have been built for all time with stone walls four or five feet thick, the proportions are good and the building imposing, but the interior decoration is small.

The Presidente and one or two other functionaries came in to pay their respects to the party, and we breakfasted very well with the padre, who seemed a pleasant sort of man speaking Spanish of course. (Little or no French is heard in the Philippines): and soon after started on our way towards Loon, about nine o’clock in the morning. A carriage having been obtained for Sg’t. [Carson?], that he might see the roads — in order to construct telegraph lines later — the others now going on by sea to Loon. The excellent coast highway — with now and then an old stone bridge continued close along the shore amidst pleasant groves of cocoanut trees from which here and there peeped quaint little bamboo huts with checker board walls made of different colored cane and small and trim as a doll’s house.

Maribojoc lies perhaps 75 feet above the sea in a small [illegible] by hills.

Near by the crystal sea broke in little sparkling waves that ran off into deeper waters all blues and greys and greens under the brilliant sun to where long lines and squares and circles of bamboo marked the fish traps so common along this coast. Through them passed [silently?] now and again a quaint shaped native boat narrow almost as a knife, with outriggers of bamboo that skim the water like a duck’s wing propelled by a lithe almost naked Malay half hidden beneath his huge round hat making a picture that might have come from some <schools boy’s geography of long ago.>

But presently the road began to climb the hills, and the scene to expand into beauty worthy of the celebrated Corniche road itself, and not indeed unlike it. On the one hand green hills and pleasant fields, a saphire [sic] sea on the other, and away to the west the green coast and wooded mountains of Cebu. Signs of comfort and well being appeared on every hand, a patch of tobacco here [corn?] and cocoanuts there, and always pleasant faced people who invariably saluted by passing their hand over the hair in an odd fashion of civility. Yet here <we> were Hale and I in a hostile island occupied a fortnight before by Americans for the first time. And so driving pleasantly along over the excellent road in a comfortable carriage with all the beauties of the scene before us the march of invasion was continued and the Presidente with his pistol and Chief of Police left to follow as they might. About eleven we reached Loon and as usual drove at once to the church there alighted and awaited the arrival of our formal introducer the Presidente.

Loon is an interesting place on account of its situation on a bluff rising perhaps 250 feet from the sea, on the summit of which stands an old stone parapet flanked by two [barred?] bastions the whole having been built by the Spaniards in times long passed as a protection against the Moros of Mindanao of whom their people have to this day an extreme dread. <– The [place?] is now [unarmed?]> The church lies back of the parapet and is grand and bare as the others, but from the level ground beside it a broad and well built flight of stone steps worthy of a Roman temple leads down to the shore from which as at Maribojoc runs a long narrow pier. In front and seeming very near — though really some 16 miles away — [lies?] the coast of Cebu, the buildings and church tower of Argao gleaming in the sun.

Loon is a little town composed chiefly of bamboo huts, but with two or three large stone buildings [whose floors threaten to tremble at every step?]. Two of these were used as schools; or rather one end of the huge loft of the second floor <of one building> contained a few timid little boys, and in the other a bevy of wee girls huddled together their little black eyes glistening with curiosity and fright as we paid a visit to them.

The teachers seemed mortified at the small number of scholars they could muster but explained by saying that the children were too frightened to appear. Indeed I think children and grown people expected to see some strange kind of creature in the American half man half ogre and whether black or white they did not know. Going down the [grand?] steps of Loon that lead to the pier, with Argao standing out white and clear on the opposite coast, I had the idea of establishing a heliograph station which should connect Bohol with the telegraphs and cables of Cebu. This was afterwards successfully accomplished. After chatting with the Padre and walking through the bare rooms of a former monastic building connected with the church, whose terrace or belvedere commanded a most beautiful view over sea and shore, we walked to the lower town and through its main street lined with bamboo huts to a beautiful natural pool in the rocks partly shaded with great trees and filled by the sea. Into this welled from the hills behind a [illegible] spring of fresh water, and the whole place with its limpid ever changing water, surrounding rocks and trees made a perfect bath of Diana and the little [illegible] <brown> imps of boys jumping cross legged from a jutting rock answered well as the water sprites of the place. The road <back> however, was hot enough to make one doubt whether we had not been looking on some molten lake of the inferno, and with the weakness of fever still on me, I was glad to get shelter from the sun in the house of the Presidente of Loon.

This man was an unusual type of the Filipino of a village; well dressed in Khaki, with a [linen?] coller [sic], and coat buttoned to the throat, and with pleasant if somewhat too convivial manners, he was rather a surprising personage. His house was small but well appointed. In the drawing room on the second floor — of course — the usual double row of [bent?] wood chairs — mostly rockers, various bed rooms visible in the distance, and the dining room furnished with one long table where presently we sat down to a most elaborate breakfast. The wife appeared for a moment in the parlor but did not remain or come to the table, indeed we could see her flitting about in the kitchen amongst the servants and directing the feast. She was a well looking Boholana, dressed in the same general fashion as the women of the country and probably barefooted most of her days. The meal was elaborate, well cooked and good but the amount of meat served was astonishing and the fish of course came in about the middle of the repast. A good Spanish wine was given, and various other drinkables including Tuba, which the host seemed to prefer to all others; then we were given choice of waters one rain caught from the nipa roof, which [illegible] of leaves, the other from a spring, and so [sitting?] and chatting after this very solid meal, and nearly dropping asleep in the warm still afternoon we rested for an hour or so, and were then summoned to mirianda(?) a pleasant afternoon meal of [illegible], and cooling drinks as a rule, but to which we went like turkeys stuffed for fatening [sic]. Then once more to the terrace of the priest’s house, and the carriages. About four o’clock the banca from Maribojoc brought the men and was sent on to Tubigon which we expected to reach next day. And so when the sun’s heat dropped we started again by the good metaled road towards Calape, near which we were to face the night.

Loon is a town of about 16,000 people, say 6000 of whom are adults who pay taxes (which omits old women and children). There is much tobacco raised in the neighborhood, as well as corn; but cocoanuts are the chief export of this part of the island — in the form of copra — and a coarse fabric is made from the fibre of a species of bannana [sic]. Neither Loon nor Maribojoc have sheltered harbors and the water seems shoal in shore. In rear of Loon rise large hills apparently uncultivated except near the bases. Live stock is not abundant, and horses are few. The people seem well to do, peaceful and contented and very respectful. Road from Tagbilaran a good [illegible] highway; Tagbilaran to Maribojoc, 14 Kilometres, Tagbilaran to Loon 26 Kilos, Tagbilaran to Tubigon 50 Kilometres (say 51 to building to be there used as barracks).

Note 2 leagues (as marked on road Tagbilaran to Maribojoc) are nearly exactly equal to 11 Kilometros, hence 1 league = 51/2 Kilometros. 1 Kilo = 5/8 mile English, hence 1 League Spanish 3.44 miles English about, say 3.5 miles. Cable should not land at either Loon, Maribojoc or Tagbilaran, an excellent land line can be built along this coast to say Tubigon. Cable, however, could run Argao to Loon fairly well better Cebu Tubigon, I think.


The road from Loon to Calape passes for the most part through a pleasant well cultivated country, which a few miles north of the former place becomes a veritable garden, the hills here [illegible] towards the east and a wide plain extends from their bases to the sea. Evidently the soil is very rich and corn sugar-cane and rice with the inevitable cocoanut tree grow in abundance. The houses are trim and neat the people well to do and prosperous in appearance and the landscape beautiful to look upon. It is [true?] an occasional white flag showed the presence of the scourge of small pox, but that <scourge> is everywhere <present> on these islands. On leaving Loon the region was hilly and the soil well suited to tobacco, then the road descended to near the level of the sea, at times becoming a causeway that passed through mangrove swamps of foul black water and snaky bushes, but again rising opened upon the fertile valley I have mentioned. Traveling along pleasantly through this, the low descending sun having ceased to wither men and horses as it did earlier in the day <one of> the latter became fractious, and kicking out viciously disabled the driver who was sent back to the Presidente’s carriage where he was secure from kicks and a [boy?] put in his place. Presently as we rattled along briskly the poney [sic] <again> began to lash out viciously, threatening to break the driver’s leg or neck at every kick seeing which I pulled him [the driver] inboard in a heap the lines fell between the horses and away they went as fast as their little legs could patter. Hale remarked that we had better jump for it, as the driver had disappeared somehow, so with two flying leaps we were in the sand the ponies running merrily away as if the[y] liked it, but they didn’t and soon were stopped by natives ahead. Then Hale and I took the presidente’s carriage, butting that dignitary on the seat in front and so as the sun was about to set, rattled up to the barrio near Calape where a band drawn up beside the road welcomed Hale and the Presidente with music. I of course, as a mere passenger had nothing to say in the affair. Down the long street we trotted the people hanging about the doorways and out the windows curious but very respectful, and in one of the buildings of the Tribunal around which a crowd of men had gathered, and where as we [entered?] the native police paraded, armed with bolos and spears and wearing the blue and white uniform of the insurrectos. All were peaceable and friendly, however, but the situation was peculiar, for these were three Americans alone in a region where an American had presumably never been before, accompanied by the presidente and one officer of a republic which we had just overthrown, [illegible] surrounded by the armed soldiers of that Republic yet met everywhere if not with cordiality at least with deference and respect. In the office room of the Tribunal a visit of [ceremony?] was made to Major Hale by the <presidente of the town, the> heads of the barrios and other functionaries all dressed in their best shirts — with tails, however, concealed as a rule; or often in white coat and trousers, and carrying the inevitable cane as a badge of office. Many of these men were dignified fine looking persons, and all were very grave as if fully aware of the importance of the events that were occurring. I could not help thinking how strange the position was as I sat by the open window looking out over the lowlands flooded by the sea, through which a wide stream flowed between mud banks to the sea, and the native boats [moved?] to and fro their sails [touched?] by the last rays of the setting sun, somewhere in whose direction was our boat and escort. But Hale’s confidence in the natives was never betrayed. The ceremony over we passed out again through the soldiers and respectful crowd in which by the way, no women were seen, and again in the carriages Hale and I rattled on ahead of the others, thro’ another beautiful valley growing indistinct in the gathering evening and finally came to a large white house by the roadside — which might have been a country inn in any other land and our driver stopped for it was our night’s resting place.

Our stopping place was a large estate called Calnuasan lying back from the seashore which was here low and flat with many wooded islands off shore <while> to the east lay a range of grassy hills whose lower slopes extending into a broad plane [sic] seemed very productive. It was a most beautiful and fertile region and at the house where we stopped showed every evidence of comfort even luxury. Being in advance of the Presidente whose father in law was our host, Major Hale and I were met at the head of the broad flight of stairs leading to the second floor which was the residence part of the house, by an old white haired gentleman, dressed in immaculate white whose manners and appearance would have done credit to a French nobleman of the old régime. <Welcoming us warmly he> put the house at our disposal. A well trained servant showed us a room where everything was provided that a well appointed country house should offer. Fresh looking beds with cane bottoms as the custom is — instead of mattress clean sheets a most unusual luxury that I had not seen before for months except in the hospital and prettily colored straw mats, and long comfortable pillows to strow about where needed. The usual shrine at the head of the bed marked the religion of the owner. The remainder of the house was as pleasant as the rooms we first saw — the drawing room <well furnished> and the dining room worthy almost of a mansion. A few books lay here and there about (amongst them a Spanish translation of one of Cooper’s Indian stories The Pathfinder I think, which must have given the <old> Boholano a somewhat strange idea of the America of today), and various pictures hung about, while at every turn a comfortable chair brought from Europe or Hong Kong made the place attractive. At dinner that night such a feast was spread as I never expected to see in the Visayas. One course after another came in in such numbers and abundance that hungry as we were it was only possible to touch lightly a dish here and there plate there if we expected to continue our way in the morning, and it was very necessary to taste [quietly?] the various wines, liqueurs, wheaten beer and brandy that were offered. <Clean linen, good glass silver and all the rest added to the charm.> It was a pleasant dinner and an astonishing to meet with in this little odd corner of a little unknown island in the hardly known Visayas of the little known Philippines. And so I speak of it at some length. Next morning a bath in the great tiled room of the lower floor where huge jars filled with water [formed?] the well and a gourd the shower. Then we drove on [illegible] towards Tubigon where we were to separate, Hale to continue north with the Presidente, I to cross to Cebu. As we approached Tubigon the most important town of the north-west coast, we were met by many natives each of whom passed his hand over his bare head in the usual humble salute; but the people here seemed less neat and well dressed and the houses more dirty than in the south of the island where the towns are clean as a Swiss village and far more picturesque, such little villages as might have been met with by Alice in Wonderland, indeed so small and trim were the little box like houses, surrounded by a neat bamboo fence, facing the glistening white coral road, and shaded by graceful trees. Here about Tubigon an important trading town the influence of the foreigner was seen, and especially of the dreaded Cebuano whose incursions have taken place near this part of the coast where people had been robbed and forced into the ranks of the invaders and livestock run off or killed for food.

As the carriages passed through the bamboo gate giving entrance to the town a band struck up a welcoming air, and we drove on in a kind of triumphal procession to the great stone building called of the Tribunal where presently appeared <[illegible phrase]> a long procession of natives in white <clothes and respectable black [billy-cock?] hats> and carrying canes the badge of office of the presidentes of towns and barrios.

They were the dignitaries come to pay their respects to Major Hale and of course to the President of the Republic of Bohol. The ceremony was quickly over. Stepping in from the balcony from which we had been looking over town and sea Hale and I were introduced to each dignitary in succession by the Presidente, each one bowed shook hands and fell back to the rear of the empty loft which had once been the barracks of the police. This over we went to the priest’s house as usual there to await the arrival of the banca and escort which by-the-way was becalmed and did not arrive at Tubigon until about [8?] o’clock that night. At the priest’s was the usual smoking and gin sipping (the favorite tipple of churchmen in these parts though in justice to them I am bound to say they prefer poisoning their visitors to themselves). Then breakfast of the usual heavy sort, with innumerable varieties of meat, fish, chicken, fruits and vegetables and some tolerable red wine. Then little to do until late in the afternoon when a new presidente of the town was to be elected, at the invitation or order of the (former) Presidente of the (former) Republic of Bohol.

It appeared that the regularly elected presidente of Tubigon was an incurable invalid, and the vice-presidente was not considered altogether satisfactory. Hence notice had been sent out that an election would be held on our [arrival?].

As the manner of holding elections, and the methods of government are similar in all the towns of Bohol perhaps throughout the Philippines and are therefore interesting I learned at Tubigon as much as possible of the methods of procedure.

The island of Bohol is divided for administrative purposes into districts or pueblos in <each of> which [there is a?] central town which is the official residence of the presidente of the whole district <Presidente de Pueblo>, of the vice-presidente who is also the cabeza de barrio of that town; and of the three councillors [sic] of the presidente one of justice, one of police, one of taxes (or revenues), who form a sort of governing council. The smaller towns about the central are formed into barrios each of which has a head man called cabeza de barrio, who is appointed by the presidente and his council, except that at the formation of the government in 1899 these cabezas de barrio were elected by the people.

The presidente de pueblo is elected by the cabezas de barrio who at such elections are delegates from their barrios and supposed to vote according to the instructions of the people at the meeting held for the election of the presidente in the chief town. In order to learn the wishes of the people of the barrio, each cabeza, on the eve of the election calls them together discusses the names of probable candidates and takes a viva-voce vote which determines his own vote at the election for presidente. But it seems that not all the people of a barrio have a voice in the matter presumably only those who pay a tax, and no doubt there are many whose wish has no great weight <with the cabeza> for here as elsewhere there are certain irresponsibles whose opinion is considered of small worth. No doubt the cabeza de barrio exercises a wide discretion in the matter <and in larger towns, property holders are permitted to vote for the presidente>. The central town with its outlying barrios [forms?] the pueblo. In the case of Tubigon there were [illegible line].

Presidentes of towns are paid according to the population from 10 to 50 dollars (Mex) per month; the rate of pay being approved by the Presidente of the island and his council that is by the Island Government. So it appears that the central government was modeled on that of the town. It is very simple but seems to answer admirably for these quiet people. The town government forms a little circle, the cabezas de barrios [sic] electing the presidente the latter in turn appointing cabezas de barrios; but it is probable that the latter position is more of a burden than a blessing, and the headman is a kind of natural selection.

At Tubigon as the sun began to grow less fierce Major Hale, President Reyes and I walked across the main plaza that faces the sea towards a little building used as headquarters of police, where as usual the men paraded armed with spears and bolos. The twenty six cabezas had already arrived, an intelligent looking body of men quiet and dignified, and with now and again one amongst them with the head and face of an old Roman; or the rugged stoical features of a Sioux Indian. They were for the most part dressed in the usual white cotton coat and trousers but some wore the national gauze shirt in the national manner, that is tail outside. The President of the Island Señor Reyes was somewhat more gorgeous[;] a blue coat with white trousers and a red silk sash may or may not have been intended to represent the colors of Bohol, but at least the combination was striking, and with a pistol attached by a gold cord, a straw hat and white [illegible] made the worthy man a very remarkable figure indeed. He like the others carried the inevitable cane the badge of rank of president & headman. It seems that it is the custom of the President of the Island to be present at the election of presidents of pueblos, and on this occasion Señor Reyes took charge of the meeting sitting at a large table with a secretary near by. He was a very dignified personage in spite of his [parrot?] clothes. The meeting came quietly to order, then with few preliminaries beyond a statement by the President a vote was taken each man going to the table and writing if he could the name of his candidate; if he could not write the name was written by the Secretary <openly>. These slips were then counted in the presence of all and the result announced by the president, whereupon a discussion took place — in the Visayan language, of course — each man as he rose to talk addressing himself to the president but there was no heat or argument. The objection was made, as I afterwards learned to the candidate elected that he was unmarried and so unfitted presumably from light-mindedness — for the responsible position of President. However this objection was not sustained, and was indeed illegal. The man elected was an intelligent looking young fellow of about 25. After the election Major Hale was asked to make a few remarks which he did through the President again reiterating what he had so often expressed elsewhere, that the United States did not want to make slaves but friends of the Filipinos. The terror of being enslaved seems wide spread and is due — perhaps — to certain utterance[s] of an influential Filipino at the outbreak of the rebellion.

Tubigon is a small town pleasantly placed on the sea coast with high hills rising in rear. It is surrounded by a fertile country and has an abundance of good water a somewhat rare [item? article?] in this part of Bohol. There are few cattle and horses in this part of the island, however, the eastern part [containing?] most live stock which find shipment from the port of Ubay. Most of the houses of Tubigon are of nipa, but there are two or three good stone buildings, one the conventual building inhabited by the padre, a large bare building but occupying of course the best site of the town, and beside an unfinished stone church of handsome proportions. There are many cocoanut trees of course but the town is less pleasant and pretty than most on Bohol. The wide plaza is unattractive and the marketplace small, a line of bamboo sheds hardly more. There is the usual long pier — in great disrepair — to the end of which small boats can come at low tide; but there is no harbor. Cebu is distinctly visible.

The three important ports of Bohol, are Tubigon, Jagna, and Ubay. East of Tubigon the towns are small except Inabanga which lies in a flat coast and has not a good harbor (so reported). It is reported that Getafe has the best harbor in that region but the town is small containing only about 50 huts. Cable should go either Cebu to Tubigon or Argao to Loon.

I learned here that as a war measure the people were not permitted to trade from port to port of any island except to buy food when ports were not opened. This was causing considerable hardship though probably not very strictly enforced.

Tubigon had suffered much from the Cebuanos the year preceding and even now dreaded incursions, and the Presidente at least [decreed?] a guard of soldiers here.

It appears that when the government of Bohol was at its beginnings a year or more ago, some 30 or 40 men calling themselves followers of Aguinaldo landed near Tubigon, began to rob and plunder and force the peaceful Boholanos to join them in a march upon Tagbilaran, the capital. By dint of threats an army of 500 or 600 men was thus collected, which proceeded south terrorizing the people. They marched as far as Cortez, but not beyond; for the government at Tagbilaran had gathered 300 or 400 armed men, and upon the advance of the raiders prepared to meet them, at the same time issuing a proclamation promising pardon to those who should desert the enemy’s ranks. Many accepted this and the army of the Cebuanos vanished away. This was, I believe, the last fighting or [illegible] of that [nature?] in Bohol.

There are the usual two schools for little boys and girls at Tubigon, but we were not invited to inspect them. On the whole Bohol is a peaceful little land and seems ever to have been so. In the time of the Spaniards and during peace only a detachment of 12 men of the guardia civil were kept there under a non-commissioned officer. After the revolution against Spain broke out this was increased to 75 men but there was no fighting.

So on the evening of April 3d (Tuesday) about 8 P.M. as we were comfortably dining at the priest’s house, the sergeant commanding the escort came in to report the arrival of the banca and her men; and as my boat which carried the mail to Cebu was already waiting for me I determined to start as soon as the tide [served?], which proved to be about half past one in the morning. Getting a few winks of uneasy sleep in the priest’s bedroom with Hale on the opposite side, I was called about half past one to walk out to the banca lying near the end of the mole, on which [Carson?], [Farrice?], and Francisco my native boy were already asleep. Nearly breaking my legs in the holes between the stones, and on board almost falling through the mats which covered parts of the outriggers, I found a place in the bows where I could stretch out at the immanent [sic] risk of falling into the sea [and so] dropped asleep (See letter to Gen’l [Gonly?]).

About three o’clock Wednesday April 4, we landed at Cebu, and I went again to Evans house, the office of the Captain of the Port [Post?].

For working unloading boat, natives were relieved from [3?] days road labor.

History of Revolution and establishment of Gov’t.

The Spaniards left in December <1898> taken off by a boat from Cebu, and after that anarchy & confusion. People landed in the north <from Cebu & levied contributions> and bands wandered over the island. All sorts of impositions one man impersonated Rizal and caused himself to be worshipped as the reincarnation of that patriot. That man was killed. <Men were raised and drove the marauders out.> The present Presidente — Mr. Bernabe Reyes — a part Chinese mestizo in appearance — went to Manila and seeing Aguinaldo was asked to form a provincial government He returned to Bojol called a popular election in the towns in January & on June 11, 1899, the presidentes so elected met at Tagbilaran and elected him President and three Councillors or Ministers to form his Cabinet & execute the laws. There were the Minister of Justice, of the Treasury and of the Army or Police. A budget was established the salary of the President fixed at 208 dollars per month, of minister of Treasury 100 per month. Such was the Provisional Republic which was to form part of Aguinaldo’s Greater Republic. The budget is in part as follows.

Constitution given by Aguinaldo for most part same as others but modified to suit Bojol.

In January 1899 met <in Tagbilaran, capital> Presidentes of all towns — the former presidentes — Elected one President of the Provisional Republic of Bohol, and 3 consejos or Councillors[:] of Laws; of Revenues Treasury (taxes); of Police. These four constituted the government. The [incumbents?] were to hold four years. The provisional republic to be merged into the greater republic. The three councillors made the laws and saw to their execution. Income from Cedula, or income tax of which there were 10 classes; income also from ports; stamped paper as, Good postal service.

Police numbered 570, about 40 guns [mostly?] now in Bojol. Church paid from State revenues; regular budget made up, —

Contributions sent to Aguinaldo.


President’s name Reyes, mestizo <part> Chinese [&?] Chili <Filipino>

Escutcheon read, Gobierno Republicano de Bohol. (Rising sun over mountains colors red, white, blue,?

(Way decrees are promulgated. [Early?] guard

Escape of prisoners , the si, si, before;

Women remarkably virtuous, well fed well rounded. Presidente came down as Aguinaldo’s representative <the intercession of Florentino Morales of Manila> Vaccination edict amongst first. Prohibition of sale of Tuba to any one. Tuba fermented juice of cocoanut heavier than beer. Houses to be cleaned [beneath?], another edict. 13 children vaccinated

Drums <sepulchral>, lantern, 3 or 4 soldiers with spear, reader or crier.

Presidente’s salary 208 pesos per month.

Each of Council rather more than half.

Much road work done, new roads built.

10 days work on roads required per year

Priests pay from State 60 pesos per month.

Spaniards very few probably left about November ’98. No Spaniards now to be seen.

Bullock or cow now sold at 14 pesos. Lent kept very strictly no meat sold. Tarif [sic].