Rizal's own story of his life

RIZAL'S OWN STORY OF HIS LIFE "IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND THERE ARE NAMES WHICH OF THEMSELVES SIGNIFY ACHIEVEMENTS. THEY CALL FORTH REVERENCE AND REMIND US OF GREATNESS." EDITED BY AUSTIN CRAIG, RIZAL RESEARCH-PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF THE PHILIPPINES National Book Company MANILA 1918 COPYRIGHT 1918 BY AUSTIN CRAIG Registered in the Philippine Islands Printed in the United States of America (Philippine Islands) Press of E. C. McCullough & Co., Manila, P. I. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Dr. W. W. Marquardt suggested this book. Miss Josephine Craig advised and assisted in the selections. Hon. C. E. Yeater read and criticised the original manuscript. Miss M. W. Sproull revised the translations. Dean Francisco Benitez acted as pedagogical adviser. Miss Gertrude McVenn simplified the language for primary school use. Mr. John C. Howe adapted and arranged the music. Mr. Frederic H. Stevens planned the make-up and, in spite of wartime difficulties, provided the materials needed. Mr. Chas. A. Kvist supervised the production. Mr. C. H. Noronha, who, in 1897, in his Hongkong magazine Odds and Ends, first published Rizal's farewell poem "My Last Thought", was the careful and obliging proofreader. Assistant Insular Architect Juan Arellano, a colleague of the editor on the Dapitan Rizal national park committee, designed the sampaguita decorations. Mr. A. Garcia achieved creditable illustrations out of poorly preserved photographs whose historical accuracy has not been impaired by the slightest embellishment. And the entire establishment of Messrs. E.C. McCullough & Company--printers, pressmen and bookbinders--labored zealously and enthusiastically to do credit to the imprint: "Made in Manila--The Work of Filipinos". The Memory of Rizal is kept alive in many ways: 1. A province near Manila bears his name. 2. The anniversary of his death is a public holiday. 3. A memorial school has been built by the Insular Government in his native town. 4. His home in exile has been made a national park. 5. The first destroyer of the future Philippine navy is named "Rizal". 6. Rizal's portrait appears on the two-peso bill. 7. Rizal's portrait appears on the two-centavo postage stamp. ILLUSTRATIONS Page Rizal's pencil sketch of himself 1 Rizal at 14 4 Rizal's painting of his sister Saturnina 6 Rizal's portrait on Philippine postage and money 8 Rizal's home, Kalamba 12 Rizal's mother and two of his sisters 16 Clay model of dog and cayman combat 17 Where Rizal went to school in Biñan 18 Rizal monument, Biñan 24 Santa Rosa Gate, on Biñan-Kalamba road 26 Model of a Dapitan woman at work 28 Rizal's uncle 29 Rizal's uncle's home in Biñan 30 Guardia Civil soldier 31 Rizal's mother 33 Rizal's father 34 One of Rizal's teachers, Terracotta bust by Rizal 36 Padre Sanchez, Rizal's favorite teacher in the Ateneo 37 Carving of the Sacred Heart, made by Rizal in the Ateneo 44 Wooden bust of Rizal's father 45 Rizal at 18 48 Rizal's sacrifice of his life 57 Professor Burgos 58 The lake shore at Kalamba 60 A Manila school girl, drawn by Rizal 62 Rizal in Paris 64 Rizal at 30 66 Crayon portrait of Rizal's cousin Leonore 70 Dapitan plaza and townhall 80 Wooden medallion of Mrs. José Rizal 84 Chalk pipehead, Rizal's last modeling 86 Rizal at 27 90 Manila skyline, sketched by Rizal 92 Rizal at 22 104 Rizal at 24 106 Rizal at 26 108 Rizal at 28, from a group picture 110 Rizal at 28, profile 114 Rizal Mausoleum, Luneta, Manila 118 Noli Me Tangere manuscript-cover design, by Rizal 120 El Filibusterismo manuscript-cover, lettered by Rizal 121 Portrait of Rizal at time of finishing El Filibusterismo 121 Los Baños house where El Filibusterismo was begun, drawn by Rizal 121 Diploma of Merit awarded Rizal for allegory "The Council of the Gods" 123 Silver pen prize won by Rizal for poem "To Philippine Youth" 125 Alcohol lamp in which Rizal hid poem "My Last Thought" 125 CONTENTS Handwritten quote: It is commonly said that the life of a good writer is best read in his works. --Autographic quotation from Rizal. Page Rizal's Song "Hymn to Labor" 2 Rizal's Song "Maria Clara's Lullaby" 3 My Boyhood 13 My First Reading Lesson 49 My Childhood Impressions 59 The Spanish Schools of My Boyhood 61 The Turkey that Caused the Kalamba Land Trouble 65 From Japan to England Across America 69 My Deportation to Dapitan 73 Advice to a Nephew 81 Filipino Proverbs 83 Filipino Puzzles 84 Rizal's "Don'ts" 85 Poem: Hymn to Labor 87 Memory Gems from Rizal's Writings 91 Mariang Makiling 93 NOT BY RIZAL The Memory of Rizal 8 Rizal Chronology 101 A Reading List 119 Philippine National Hymn (by José Palma) 126 Song: Hail, Philippines (by H. C. Theobald) 128 RIZAL'S OWN STORY MY BOYHOOD José Rizal wrote the first three chapters in 1878. He was seventeen years old at that time. CHAPTER I My Birth and Earliest Years in Kalamba I was born on Wednesday, the nineteenth of June, 1861. It was a few days before the full of the moon. I found myself in a village. I had some slight notions of the morning sun and of my parents. That is as much as I can recall of my baby days. The training which I received from my earliest infancy is perhaps what formed my habits. I can recall clearly my first gloomy nights, passed on the azotea of our house. They seem as yesterday! They were nights filled with the poetry of sadness and seem near now because at present my days are so sad. On moonlight nights, I took my supper on the azotea. My nurse, who was very fond of me, used to threaten to leave me to a terrible but imaginary being like the bogey of the Europeans if I did not eat. I had nine sisters and a brother. Our father was a model parent. He gave us the education which was suitable in a family neither rich nor poor. He was thrifty. By careful saving, he was able to build a stone house. He also bought another house; and he put up a nipa cottage on our plot of irrigated ground. The cottage was shaded by bananas and trees. At nightfall, my mother had us all say our prayers together. Then we would go to the azotea or to a window to enjoy the moonlight; and my nurse would tell us stories. Sometimes sad and sometimes gay, nurse's stories were always oriental in their imagination. In these stories, dead people, gold, and plants on which diamonds grew were all mixed together. When I was four years of age, my little sister Concha died, and for the first time I cried because of love and sorrow. Till then I had shed tears only for my own faults, which my loving, prudent mother well knew how to correct. I learned to write in my own village. My father looked after my education. He paid an old man, who had been his schoolmate, to teach me the first steps in Latin. This teacher lived in our house till he died, five months later. He had been in almost perfect health and it was at the moment of death that he received extreme unction. In June of 1868, I went to Manila with my father. That was just after the birth of Trinidad, the third sister younger than myself. We went in a casco which turned out to be a clumsy boat. I shall not try to tell how happy I was at each new stop on the banks of the Pasig. Beside this same river, a few years later, I was to be very sad. We went to Cainta, Taytay, and Antipolo, and then to Manila. In Santa Ana I visited my eldest sister, Saturnina, who at that time was a student in La Concordia College. Then I returned to my village and remained until 1870. CHAPTER II My Schooling in Biñan Biñan is a town about one and one-half hour's drive from my own town, Kalamba. My father was born in Biñan, and he wished me to go there to continue the study of Latin, which I had just begun. He sent me over one Sunday in the care of my brother. The parting from my family was tearful on the side of my parents and my sisters, but I was nine years old and managed to hide my own tears. We reached Biñan at nightfall. We went to an aunt's house where I was to live. When the moon came up, a cousin took me around the town. Biñan appeared to me large and wealthy but neither attractive nor cheerful. My brother left me after he presented me to the schoolmaster, who, it seemed, had been his own teacher. The schoolmaster was a tall, thin man with a long neck and a sharp nose. His body leaned slightly forward. He wore a shirt of sinamay that had been woven by the deft fingers of Batangas women. He knew Latin and Spanish grammar by heart; but his severity, I believe now, was too great. This is all that I remember of him. His classroom was in his own house, only some thirty meters from my aunt's home. When I entered the classroom for the first time, he said to me: