Fourth sub-call
Sub Hisriglue!, Sub Call!
Beyond blue horizons far at the world's end, strange fascinating lands beckon us.
Did us revel in their exotic splendors? Come with us as we head for ports of call.
Down the red pathway of the setting sun, across the mighty reaches of the vast
Pacific, our ship carries us in comfort and safety toward the world's greatest
island archipelago, the Philippines. 400 large islands and nearly 3,000 smaller
ones constitute this rich maritime empire whose land area is only a little
less than that of Great Britain and Ireland combined. Verdant jewels of
tropical splendor, the Philippines are washed by waters whose very names are
fraught with romance. The Pacific Ocean, the China Sea, the briny domain of the
Sultan of Sulu and still farther south by the Celebes.
We have passed the international dateline, that invisible and mysterious
boundary of oxygen in the Orient and steam south to within 20 degrees of the
equator before we sight the purple peaks of Luzon, the most northerly of the
Philippines principal islands.
Night falls over the lazy tropical waters. The southern cross comes blazing
up over the horizon and now the moon rises to bathe ship and sea and distant
islands with bewitching radiance. Time has not altered the spectacle before us.
Four centuries ago the moon shone just as it does tonight. Just so too did
seabirds chirp sleepily as they rested upon the slow heating billows and just
so did a fragrant breeze bring to a band of weary European mariners the sweet
odor of land, of greenery, of fresh water and the promise of rest beneath shady
trees. It is the year 1521. Ghostly in the moonlight we see the tattered sails, the
salt caked barnacle encrusted hulls of three tiny caribals of Spain. On the high
poop of the flagship their commander, Ferdinand Magellan, talks with one of his
captains. These are great islands before us Magellan. The greatest we have seen in
the Pacific. Are they not the ones we seek? The Maluccas? Yes. They lie farther to
the west. Here we have found something that no other European yet knows of. We
have sailed so far, suffered so much, two ships lost, only a hundred men left out
of 260. A hundred human skeletons. Yes, I know. But God has been merciful to spare
so many. Think of the perils we have survived since His Majesty Charles V,
Bader's godspeed when we sailed from Sanlucar nearly two years ago. Remember
the terrible 36 days we've rived in the grip of icy storms before we could fight
our way through from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Remember the terror of our men
as we led them into unknown oceans. Remember the Newtonies. No, I tell you
Sebastian, when I consider the perils we have survived and the marvelous
discoveries we have thus far made, I feel humbly grateful to God and the King who
has given me the chance to do this when my own people neglected me in spite of
my wounds earned in the service of fortune. Then you will not be content with
this new discovery, these great islands. You will push on to the Maluccas. That was
the commission the King gave me. I shall carry it out if God lends me life.
Oh, then Magellan, I pray that we may push on quickly.
Thus your mission will be accomplished and we can turn back to Spain. Turn back
from the Maluccas? Ah, Sebastian, you're dreaming. What do you mean? I mean we will
not turn back. Even when the Maluccas have been reached? Never. You're insane. No,
far from it. Listen Sebastian, it is true the King commissioned me to claim the
Maluccas. That I shall do, but we have sailed more than halfway around the earth.
It would be foolish to turn back now. We hold in our hands an opportunity to
perform the greatest feat of navigation the world has ever seen. We will continue.
From the Maluccas we shall still follow the Sun and we shall reach Spain again
without turning back. You mean? I mean we will circumnavigate the globe. Magellan,
you are superb. No, Sebastian, only reasonable. But listen to me, many of us
have already perished. Many more of us will not live to see Spain again. Perhaps
I shall be one of those dropped overboard. God forbid. Why should my life be
spared rather than that of another? You I can trust more than anyone else. You
must promise that if I die you will finish this voyage as I have planned it.
I promise, Magellan. Swear it on the body of Christ.
For the body of Christ. I swear it. Good. Now I am content.
Magellan landed in the Philippines. There he planted the banner of Spain and the
Christian faith. But he was not to be one of the 18 Haggard survivors who
finally reached Spain after sailing around the globe for the first time in
history. For the intrepid leader was slain in a battle with natives on the
island of Cebu. His lonely grave became a magnet which drew the might of Spain
toward these distant islands to make of them the stronghold of Spanish power in
the Orient. An empire which yielded its masters a steady stream of riches for
over three centuries.
It is gold in all of the principal islands, Excellency. Good. See that the
mines are developed. Put the people to work in them. The galleons from the
Philippines must dazzle our king with the richness of their cargoes. The soil
of many districts is suitable for tobacco, Excellency. See that tobacco is
planted wherever possible. Europe will soon buy all we can produce.
The natives grow much sugar cane. Let the sugar be extracted and further
cultivation encouraged. From the fibers of the abaca the natives make hemp. See
that abaca is planted in profusion. One day manila rope will rig the vessels of
the world's navies. There is rum to be distilled. Hurls from the southern island.
Riches. Untold riches everywhere. All for the glory of Spain. In 1571 on the shores
of Luzon's magnificent bay at the mouth of the Pasique River rose the royal city
of Manila. Great stone blocks are hewed from the mountains to build the solid
gray-green walls of churches, convents, palaces and their grim defending
bulwarks from whose lofty towers the blazing banners of Spain float proudly
against a shimmering tropical sky.
Years passed. The decades rolled into centuries. Old Spain sickened, weakened,
broken and weary. She looked on helplessly as one after another of the
overseas possessions which had once been her pride fell from her palsied hands. In
the Philippines the Spanish power sunk in a long lethargy was in grave danger.
1896 on the island of Luzon. Revolts against Spanish rule break out in the
provinces.
We have far too long the injustice of Spanish domination. Nothing is being done for the
Filipinos. The schools we should have are not built. Education in the islands is
only for the half-caste
who are more Spanish than Filipinos. Though we work all day in the hot sun, we get no profit from our labors.
The flyers get it all. Soon all the tillable lands in the islands will belong
to the Turks. We are slaves and we must revolt. In the Governor General's palace, Primo de Rivera takes counsel with the Spanish advisors.
This revolt might become serious General. Governor de Rivera, it is very possible.
Unfortunately we have but 300 troops in Manila just now. If the natives should
rise before our gracious ruler can send us reinforcements, I'm afraid we... I see. All the danger lies with this Emilio Aguinaldo in my opinion. With him and his little group of Tagalog agitators. We're all familiar with the native lack of organization.
We demand the expulsion of the religious corporations from the island. The reformation of the Spanish laws now enforced. Granting the people ample education in all its branches. Granting them personal security and liberty based on rational political system.
Outrageous! Outrageous and preposterous! Expelling the religious orders.
Of course my dear Cardinal, we'll do nothing of the kind. But we might make some concessions on the other points unless... No, here is the way. General, you will open the campaign at once. Take what men you can muster.
Fall upon the rebels with all possible fury and fight as though you were prepared to continue for ten years. Yes, your Excellency. As soon as they have tasted our force, we will start negotiations.
I think I have a plan which will make the campaign a very, very short one.
Ah, Carlos, are you ready to make your report? Yes, Excellency. Aguinaldo and his group assembled at Biagrabato. I delivered your Excellency's message.
I told them that you refused to commit yourself to any specific reforms. That Spain could never admit anything which might affect her honor or sovereignty. Good. And then?
Then I presented your Excellency's proposition. And? And Aguinaldo accepted. Magnificent, Carlos.
Aguinaldo and his twenty-seven subordinate chiefs have agreed to surrender their arms, dismiss their forces, and leave the Philippines in consideration of the sum of eight hundred thousand pesos to be paid in three installments, deposited to the credit of Aguinaldo and company in the Hong Kong bank.
How wonderful! Fine! With these men out of the islands, the Filipinos will have no leaders left. There will no longer be any question of reforms or revolts or anything of that sort.
But why do you look so glum, Carlos? This is the most humane way to stop this trouble and a very economical one, too. Isn't that so? Yes, Your Excellency. Well, then?
Your Excellency, Spain has ruled these islands for over three hundred years. Rule them without question. This is the first challenge to her might.
The news of revulsion in Cuba is disquieting, too. You have broken up this revolt. Yes. But somehow I feel tragedy-intending. I feel that the sun is about to set on the last vestige of Spain's empire.
No, no, Carlos. Impossible. Impossible!
February 15th, 1898.
Extra! Extra! Vamos, if mean, going up in Havana harbor! 266 American seamen killed! Extra!
The United States declares war on Spain! Extra! President McKinley calls for 125,000 volunteers! Extra! Extra!
While the Spanish-American war fever sweeps the Western Hemisphere, far away on the other side of the world, the United States' Asiatic squadron, under the command of Commodore George Dewey, lies in the harbor of Hong Kong.
Night is falling. The lights of the anchored warships blink on. Commodore Dewey restlessly paces the quarterdeck of his flagship, the Olympia.
We should be having news any moment now, Gridley. There's a dispatch boat standing toward us, Commodore.
Olympia ahoy! Hope ahoy! Dispatches on the flagship! Long, long time!
Hey, man. Here's the house. Hold it.
Perhaps this is it.
Dispatches, Commodore.
Thank you. Let's see.
Yes, Gridley. Here it is. Listen. Dewey, Hong Kong. You will proceed at once to Manila and capture or destroy the Spanish fleet there. Gridley, we will get underway immediately.
Aye, sir. Stand by the way anchor.
Full speed ahead.
Out through the narrow mouth of Hong Kong harbor steams the American squadron. Their sharp bows cleave the comers of the China Sea.
They swing to the south and with smoke blacker than the night sky pouring from their funnels, they drive at full speed toward Manila.
Midnight, April 30th, 1898. Dewey's squadron approaches the island of Luzon, prepares to make the perilous entrance into Manila Bay,
where the Spanish fleet lies at anchor, protected by the guns of the land batteries.
Shrouded in darkness, the Olympia leads her sister ships like a procession of ghosts to the inky waters of the entrance.
Not a light is shown anywhere. Above the decks, men speak in whispers.
The channel lies by Corregidor Island, Gridley. We'll have to pass close.
We can slip past, Commodore.
We must. It's ticklish business, though. If the guns on Corregidor spot us, they'll get the whole shore away.
By the mark of 20...
20 yards. That's right. We're getting close now.
Messenger.
Yes, sir?
Stand by the ledgman. Tell him not to sing out. They might hear us.
Each time he gets a sounding, have him tell you and run up here with him.
Aye, aye, sir.
The other ships are in column, Gridley.
Can't see much, Commodore, but there's the Baltimore stern of us. She's in position, all right.
Good.
Eighteen pavans, sir.
Very good. You stand in close to the Corregidor, Gridley.
Aye, aye, sir. Ten degrees, Talbot.
Ten degrees, Talbot, it is, sir.
Now, hold your breath, Gridley. This is the tight place.
It certainly is. Looks like you could reach out and touch Corregidor from the wing of the bridge.
If those Spanish gun crews wake up, we're lost. Blind men couldn't miss at this range.
Twenty-two pavans, sir.
Very good. Gridley, we've enough headway to slip by without power. Stop your engine.
Aye, aye, sir.
Hello. Engine on. Stop her.
Who's making that noise?
It's me, sir.
What are you rattling?
Nothing, sir. Those are my teeth jabbering. Maybe I can tie my jaws together with my neck.
Just as long as you're not afraid.
No, no, no, sir.
Then bring up some coffee for Captain Gridley and me.
Aye, aye, sir.
Well, the worst is over, Gridley. Give her half speed again.
Aye, aye, sir. Half speed ahead.
Let the men have coffee now, but keep them at their battle stations.
Yes, Commodore.
How about the batteries at Cavite?
They are not so dangerous. We don't have to pass them as closely as Corregidor.
There'll be a beam in a few minutes. Then we'll change our course, and by daylight,
we'll be within range of the fleet before Manila.
If I may say so, sir, you talk as well as the Spanish fleet for the least of our troubles.
I have considerable confidence in our marksmanship, Gridley.
The night draws to its close. The men at their battle stations shiver in the cool breeze,
which ushers in the dawn. The squadron's speed is increased. Daylight comes. The wave of intense
excitement sweeps through the squadron as the gathering light reveals to anxious eyes
the black hulls and tall spars of the Spanish fleet. Black smoke starts pouring from their
funnel. There. They've seen us. They're trying to get underway. I'm afraid it's a little late.
What time is it, by the way? Rebells, Commodore.
We're right on schedule, Gridley. Dawn and the United States Navy both arrive at 5.30 today.
The enemy's open fire, Commodore. Be sure to log that back.
Certainly, Commodore.
Hoist standby signal for other ships.
Aye, aye, sir. We're well on the range now, sir.
Remember the maneuvers, Captain. We steam by the fleet and column as a press,
firing starboard broadsides, each ship concentrating on leading Spanish ship until destroyed.
When the squadrons have passed the last Spanish ship, we make a 180-degree turn to port,
delivering port broadside. We repeat this maneuver as long as may be necessary.
I quite understand, Commodore.
All other commanding officers have acknowledged receipt of these instructions, Lieutenant.
Yes, sir.
Very well. You may fire when ready, Gridley.
Three and a half hours later, the Battle of Manila Bay had become history. The Spanish fleet had
ceased to exist, and the United States found itself in possession of an overseas empire.
The native leader, General Emilio Aguinaldo, returns to the islands. During the long delay
between Dewey's victory and the final signing of the peace treaty with Spain in February 1899,
Aguinaldo, with the consent of the American commanders, undertakes the reduction of the
Spanish strongholds throughout the islands. When the war has finally ended and the United
States is preparing to take over the administration of the islands as an American possession,
deep misunderstandings have already arisen. Aguinaldo claims that the Filipinos are entitled
to immediate independence. The anti-imperialist group in the United States, led by William
Jennings Bryan, supports his views. As a result, the withdrawal of the last Spanish forces from
the Philippines is followed by the outbreak of the Filipino rebellion against the United States,
a long-trying series of guerrilla skirmishes which terrorizes the province for two years.
Then Aguinaldo is captured. He takes the oath of allegiance to the United States
and the great work of bringing the Philippines from medievalism to the status of a modern power
capable of eventual self-government is undertaken. July 4, 1901, William Howard Taft is inaugurated
as civil governor of the Philippines.
And I feel I cannot do better on this occasion than to repeat to you the instructions which,
as a member of the Philippine Commission, I received from President McKinley when we first
came to organize a civil government among you. I quote,
A high and sacred obligation rests upon the government of the United States to give protection,
civil and religious freedom, and wise, firm, unselfish guidance to all the people of the
Philippine Islands. I charge this commission to labor for the full performance of this obligation
in the firm hope that through their labors all the inhabitants of the Philippine Islands
may look back with gratitude to the day when God gave victory to American arms at Manila.
These were the aims and ideals with which we came to you, and they are the ones which will guide us
in the future. Our work among you will show what we have already told you, that the United States
has assumed the sovereignty of the Philippines with no thought of riches or of profit to herself,
but only as a sacred trust whose whole aim is the advancement of the Filipino people.
Through the years which followed, American administrators working with loyal Filipino
patriots toiled ceaselessly at their task of bringing civilization to the islands.
By 1913, they had established civil and criminal courts where rich and poor fared equally.
Justice was no longer for sale.
Amolished quigandry by instituting a native constabulary with American officers.
Purchased the 400,000 acres of agricultural land formerly held by the Spanish religious order
and made them available to small native farmers.
Established a stable currency based on gold.
Developed the rich mineral resources of the island.
Introduced modern agricultural methods.
Built hundreds of miles of highway, lavish church and stake.
Abolished the opium graphic.
Isolated the leper to the island of Culeap.
Supplied free public education for every Filipino child.
Reduced the smallpox mortality 600%.
Increased the internal revenue of the Philippines to 20 million dollars.
Their exports to 56 million dollars.
Trained many thousands of Filipinos for the important task of holding public office.
Thus, the great humanitarian work, unique in the world's colonial history, went on.
At last, 37 years after her arrival, the United States prepared to withdraw from the islands.
In November 1935, the Philippine Commonwealth becomes a reality.
And her first president, Manuel Queban, is inaugurated.
There can be no progress except under the auspices of peace.
I appeal therefore to every Filipino to give the government loyal support.
So that tranquility may reign supreme in our beloved land.
But although the young Commonwealth is advancing swiftly in the path of progress,
it will long delight the visitor in search of exotic beauty.
Throughout a thousand miles of Seagard Islands, we encounter numberless sights to enrich our memories.
The white-horned, slow-moving water buffaloes, the tiny shaggy-maned little ponies pulling
calaesas jammed with smiling exuberant natives, the dainty black-haired women with their wide
gauzy sleeves of fiber cloth, the small, kinky-haired, flat-nosed Negritos,
said to be the aboriginal inhabitants of the islands, the brown, sturdy-legged Igorotes,
those savage mountaineers whose houses only three decades ago were decorated with human skulls,
the supple turban morose of Holo, the Hamadans whose allegiance to the sultan of Sulu,
whom the Spaniards could never shake.
We see the rice terraces of Ifugao in northern Luzon, incredible engineering feats of savage
hillsmen climbing the mountainsides to meet the clouds.
In the devout country, we see the most picturesque tribesmen in the world wearing beaded garments
of indescribable ornate-ness.
But now we must leave.
Let us give one last quick glance at the busy Paseg River, crowded with boats of all descriptions,
bringing fruits and produce to Manila's market.
And at the celebrated Luneta and its throng of promenaders, at the cathedral and the old
streets of Intermarrus, we proceed to our ship.
The mossy stone ramparts, which were once the symbol of Spain's might, still stand with
their watchtowers silhouetted against the brilliant sky.
But at their feet now lies the green turf of playing fields and golf courses.
May this peaceful symbol of the new order be a lasting one.
Farewell, Philippines, and good luck.
We invite you to join us again next week at this time, as we journey to another of the
world's fascinating ports of call.