Rizal's own story of his life
dazzling and more attractive. I knew why the moths circled the flame.
The advice and warnings sounded feebly in my ears. What I thought
of most was the death of the heedless moth. But in the depth of my
heart I did not blame it. My mother's care had not had quite the
result she intended.
Years have passed since then. The child has become a man. He has
crossed the most famous rivers of other countries. He has studied
beside their broad streams. He has crossed seas and oceans. He
has climbed mountains much higher than the Makiling of his native
province, up to perpetual snow. He has received from experience
bitter lessons, much more bitter than that sweet teaching which his
mother gave him. Yet, in spite of all, the man still keeps the heart
of a child. He still thinks that light is the most beautiful thing
in creation, and that to sacrifice one's life for it is worth while.
MY CHILDHOOD IMPRESSIONS
One of numerous rough drafts evidently written for
practice. Published as "Mi Primer Recuerdo," in El Renacimiento,
Manila, February 2, 1908.
I spent many, many hours of my childhood down on the shore of the lake,
Laguna de Bay. I was thinking of what was beyond. I was dreaming of
what might be over on the other side of the waves. Almost every day,
in our town, we saw the Guardia Civil lieutenant caning and injuring
some unarmed and inoffensive villager. The villager's only fault was
that while at a distance he had not taken off his hat and made his
bow. The alcalde treated the poor villagers in the same way whenever
he visited us.
We saw no restraint put upon brutality. Acts of violence and
other excesses were committed daily. The officers whose duty it
was to protect the people and keep the public peace were the real
outlaws. Against such lawbreakers, our authorities were powerless. I
asked myself if, in the lands which lay across the lake, the
people lived in this same way. I wondered if there they tortured
any countryman with hard and cruel whips merely on suspicion. Did
they there respect the home? Or over yonder also, in order to live
in peace, would one have to bribe tyrants?
THE SPANISH SCHOOLS OF MY BOYHOOD
From the introduction which Doctor Rizal put to his Spanish
version of an article on "The Transliteration of Tagalog". His
advocacy of the English style used in other Malay countries
as more akin to the genius of Filipino dialects was considered
extremely unpatriotic by most Spaniards.
You perhaps attended a village Spanish school to learn your
letters. Possibly, you have had to teach the letters in Spanish to
others smaller than yourself. In either case, you must have noticed
what I have, that children find great difficulty in mastering certain
syllables. These are ca, ce, ci, co, ga, ge, gua, gui, etc. It is
because Filipino children do not understand the reasons for such
irregularities. Nor do they know the cause for the changes in value
of the sounds of certain consonants.
In the old times, blows fell like rain. Many pupils were whipped every
day. Sometimes the schoolmaster broke the ferule and sometimes he
broke the children's hands. The first pages of their primers fell to
pieces from long and hard use. The children cried. Even the monitors
had to suffer at times. Yet those syllables which cost the children
so many tears are of no use to them.
Those syllables are necessary only in the learning of Spanish,
which language in my time only three boys in a thousand ever really
learned. These three learned it in Manila, by hearing Spanish spoken,
and by committing to memory book after book. I often wondered what
was the use of learning it at all when in the end one spoke only
Tagalog. But I kept my wonder to myself. I felt that to try to make
reforms in the Philippines at that time would be to embark on a
stormy voyage.
After I grew up, I had to write letters in Tagalog. I was shocked at
my ignorance of its spelling. I was surprised, too, to find the same
word spelled differently in the different works which I consulted. This
proved to me how foolish it was to try to write Tagalog in the Spanish
way. The spelling in use today by all Filipino scholars is a great
improvement over the old style. I want to place the credit for this
change where it belongs. These improvements are due to the studies
in Tagalog of Dr. T. H. Pardo de Tavera alone. I have only been one
of the most zealous champions of the change from the Spanish style.
THE TURKEY THAT CAUSED THE KALAMBA LAND TROUBLE
This account was given Captain Carnicero, the Spanish commander
of the Dapitan district where Rizal was in exile, in 1892.
My father was a friend of the owners of the Kalamba
estate. He was intimate, too, with the manager in charge of the
plantation. Frequently, important visitors came to the plantation
house. Then the manager asked my father for whatever he needed. He
very often asked for a turkey, and my father gladly gave it to him. The
poultry yard at our house was always full of turkeys because my father
was a fancier of these fowls.
But one season there came some epidemic and almost all the turkeys
died. Only a few pairs, which were being kept for breeding, were
left. Just at this time the manager one day sent for the customary
turkey. Naturally my father had to tell the messenger that he had no
turkeys to spare, because the greater part of them had died. This reply
made the manager furiously angry. He wound up his abuse by saying,
"You will pay for this in the end!" A few days later my father received
a note from the manager, saying that he was going to raise the rent on
the land which my father occupied. He said the rent would be one-third
more than father was then paying.
The reason for this decision was clear. It was because my father had
refused to give the manager the turkey. The proof of this was that
no other tenant received any such notice.
Father paid this increase on the day set, without a single word of
protest, being among the first to pay. But after a few months, there
came another note. In it the manager gave notice that the rent would
be doubled. This, he said, was because my father was growing rich
from the rented land where he had installed machinery for making sugar.
My father could not pay this price. Then he was summoned to appear
in court; and finally the alcalde ordered him to leave the land. So
he lost his houses and machinery, all because of a turkey.
FROM JAPAN TO ENGLAND ACROSS AMERICA
From letters written en route to his friend Mariano Ponce and
first published in Manuel Artigas' Biblioteca Nacional Filipina,
Manila, June, 1910.
On February 28th, 1888, I arrived in Yokohama. A few moments after
reaching the hotel, I received the card of the official in charge at
the Spanish legation. I had not even had a chance to brush up when he
called. He was very pleasant and offered to assist me in my work. He
even invited me to live at the legation, and I accepted. If, at the
bottom, there was a desire to watch me, I was not afraid to let them
know all about myself. I lived at the legation a little over a month,
and traveled in some of the nearby provinces of Japan. At times,
I was alone; at others, with the Spanish official himself, or with
the interpreter. While there, I learned to speak Japanese, and made a
slight study of the Japanese theatre. After many offers of employment,
which I refused, I sailed at last for America, about April 13th.
On the steamer, I met a half-Filipino family, the wife being a
mestiza, the daughter of an Englishman named Jackson. They had with
them a servant from Pangasinan. The son asked me if I knew "Richal,"
the author of Noli Me Tangere. Smiling, I answered that I did; and,
as he began to speak well of me, I had to make myself known and say
that I was the author. The mother paid me compliments, too. I made
the acquaintance of a Japanese who was going to Europe. He had been a
prisoner for being a radical and editor of an independent newspaper. As
the Japanese spoke only Japanese, I acted as interpreter for him
until we arrived in London.
During this voyage I was not seasick.
I visited the larger cities of America, where I saw splendid
buildings. The Americans have magnificent ideals. America is a homeland
for the poor who are willing to work.
I traveled across America, and saw the majestic cascade of Niagara. I
was in New York, the great city, but there everything is new. I went
to see some relics of Washington, that great man whom I fear has not
his equal in this century.
I embarked for Europe on the "City of Rome", said to be the second
largest steamer in the world. On board, a newspaper was published up
to the end of the voyage.
I made the acquaintance of many people. They wondered at my taking
about with me a foreigner who could not make himself understood. The
Europeans and Americans were astonished to see how I got along with
him. I could speak to every one in his own language and understand
what he said.
MY DEPORTATION TO DAPITAN
First published in the Biblioteca National Filipina, Manila. The
account was secretly sent by Rizal to his friends very shortly
after his arrival at his place of exile. The reference to the
school is from a letter to Doctor Blumentritt.
I arrived in Manila the 26th of June, 1892. It was on a Sunday,
at 12 o'clock, noon. A number of carbineers, including a major, met
me. A captain and a sergeant of the Guardia Veterana were there in
civilian clothes. I disembarked with my luggage, and they inspected
it at the custom house.
From there, I went to the Oriente Hotel. I occupied Room No. 22,
which overlooks the Binondo Church.
That afternoon, at four, I presented myself to His Excellency,
Governor-General Despujol. He told me to return at seven in the
evening and I did so. He granted my petition for the liberty of my
father, but not for the liberty of my brother and sisters. He told
me to return on Wednesday evening at half past seven.
From there, I went to see my sisters. First I saw my sister Narcisa,
afterwards Neneng (Saturnina). On the following day, Monday, at
six o'clock in the morning, I was at the railway station, bound for
Bulacan and Pampanga. I visited Malolos, San Fernando, and Tarlac. On
the return I stopped at Bacolor, reaching Manila on Tuesday at five
o'clock in the afternoon.
Seven-thirty on Wednesday saw me with His Excellency. But not even
then did I get him to revoke the deportation decrees. Still he gave me
hope for my sisters. As it was the festival of Saints Peter and Paul,
our interview ended at 9:15. I was to present myself on the following
day, at the same hour.
That day, Thursday, we spoke on unimportant matters. I thanked him
for having revoked the order to banish my sisters and told him that
my father and brother would come by the first mail-steamer. He asked
me if I wished to return to Hongkong and I answered, "Yes". He told
me to come again on Wednesday.
Wednesday he asked me if I persisted in my intention of returning
to Hongkong. I told him that I did. After some conversation he said
that I had brought political circulars in my baggage. I replied that
I had not. He asked me who was the owner of the roll of pillows and
petates with my baggage. I said that they belonged to my sister. He
told me that because of them he was going to send me to Fort Santiago.
Don Ramón Despujol, his nephew and aide, took me in one of the palace
carriages. At Fort Santiago Don Enrique Villamor, the commander,
received me. He assigned me to an ordinary room containing a bed,
a dozen chairs, a table, a washstand, and a mirror. The room had
three windows. One, without bars, looked out on a court; another