# Recollections of Full Years/Chapter 12

When Mr. Taft reached Manila he found the city en fete and in a state of intense excitement which had prevailed for two days during which the people had expected every hour to hear the great siren on the cold storage plant announce that the little Alava, the government coastguard boat which had been sent to Singapore to get him, had been sighted off Corregidor.
When the announcement finally came, everything in the harbour that could manage to do so steamed down the Bay to meet him, and when the launch to which he had transferred from the Alava came up to the mouth of the Pásig River and under the walls of old Fort Santiago, seventeen guns boomed out a Governor's salute, while whistles and bells and sirens all over the bay and river and city filled the air with a deafening din.
Wherever his eyes rested he saw people,—crowding windows, roofs, river banks and city walls, all of them cheering wildly and waving hats or handkerchiefs. And the thing which moved him most was the fact that the welcoming throng was not just representative of the wealthy and educated class, but included thousands of the people, barefooted and in calicoes, who had come in from the neighbouring and even the far provinces to greet him.
Mrs. Moses asked Mr. Benito Legarda, one of the Filipino members of the Commission, whether or not there had ever been a like demonstration in honour of the arrival of a Spanish Governor, and his answer was:
"Yes, there were demonstrations always, but the government paid the expenses."
In this case the very opposite was true. The government had no money to waste on celebrations and all government ​buildings, such as the City Hall, the Post Office and the Ayuntamiento, were conspicuously bare, Their nakedness was positively eloquent of economy in the midst of the riot of gay bunting, the flags, the pennants and the palm leaves in which the rest of the city was smothered. Then there were extraordinary and elaborate arches spanning the streets through which the Governor was to be conducted, One of these, erected by the Partido Federal, displayed a huge allegorical picture which had a peculiar significance. Filipina, a lovely lady draped in flowing gauze, wus seen, in an attitude which combined appeal with condescension, presenting to Columbia a single star, implying that she desired to be accepted as one of the States of the Union.
I am indebted to the descriptive art of Mrs. Moses, to photographs and to my own knowledge of the Filipino way of doing things for the mental picture I have of this celebration.
At the landing near the Custom House my husband found a great procession in line, ready to escort him to the Ayuntamiento where the speeches of welcome were to be made. There were regiments of cavalry, infantry and artillery, as well as platoon after platoon of native and American police with as many bands as there were divisions of the procession. Picked men from the volunteer regiments acted as a special guard for the Governor’s carriage and they must have added much to the impressive array, because I know of my own observation that the volunteers were always as fine a looking body of men as it would be possible to find anywhere.
When Mr. Taft reached the Ayuntamiento he listened to glowing speeches of tribute and welcome in the Marble Hall, then be stood for hours shaking hands with the people who, in orderly file, passed in and out of the building which was large enough to hold only a very small fraction of them. When this was over and his audience had settled down he proceeded to tell them in a clear and simple way all ​about his experiences in Rome and how far the negotiations with the Vatican had proceeded. This was a matter of paramount importance to the Filipinos and they listened with an intensity of interest which Mr. Taft said seemed to promise serious consequences if the business could not be carried to a successful conclusion.
However, despite the joy and festivity with which he was greeted upon his return, the Governor did not find general conditions in the islands either prosperous or happy.
Everything that could possibly happen to a country had happened or was happening. The cholera epidemic was still raging, and while it had abated to a considerable extent in Manila it was at its worst in Iloilo and other provinces. There had been from seventy to eighty cases a day in Manila for a long time, and the quarantine regulations had incensed the ignorant people to a point where force had to be used to secure obedience, They did not understand sanitary measures and wanted none of them; they clung to their superstitious beliefs, and were easily made to accept as truth wild statements to the effect that the Americans were poisoning the wells and rivers and had stopped transportation and business with the sole purpose of starving or otherwise destroying the entire population. Even the educated ones were not without their time-honoured prejudices in this regard, for while Mr. Taft was in Rome he receive a cabled protest from Filipino members of the Commission with a request that he order the quarantine raised.
When he arrived in Manila the cholera cases had fallen to between ten and twenty a day and business had been resumed to a certain extent, but the situation was still critical and a fresh outbreak on account of polluted water was to be expected at any time. All the sources of water supply were patrolled by American soldiers day and night and every precaution was taken; whole sections of the city were burned in an attempt to stamp out the pestilence, but the disease ​had to run its course and it was months before it was completely eradicated. While the people were dying of cholera the carabaos, the only draught and farm animals in the Islands, were dying by thousands of an epidemic of rinderpest. This scourge, too was fought with all the force of both the civil and military arms of the government, but before it could be checked it had carried off a large majority of the carabaos in the Archipelago with the result that agriculture and all other industries dependent upon this mode of transportation were paralysed. A general drought in China made a rice famine a practical certainty, even if the people should have money to buy rice, so the future looked black indeed. The cholera and rinderpest had greatly reduced government revenues and many plans for much needed public works had to be modified or abandoned, while the condition of the currency added to the general chaos. There was no gold standard and the fluctuations in the value of silver made it necessary for the Governor to issue a proclamation about once a week fixing a new rate of exchange. In this way it was calculated that the government, with insufficient income at the best, lost a round million dollars gold during a period of ten months. To cap all and add exasperation to uneasiness the ladrones had become increasingly active with hard times and were harrying the districts around Manila to such an extent that the people were in constant terror. The ravages of the rinderpest had made the carabao a very valuable animal and the chief object of the ladrones was to steal such as were left and drive them off to be sold in distant provinces. Nor were they at all particular about their highwaymen's methods or chary of sacrificing human life. There was a veritable hotbed of ladronism at Caloocan, a suburb of Manila, which was augmented by the roughs and toughs from the crowded and miserable districts in the lower city, ​while across the Bay in Cavite province, known as the "mother of insurrection," there were several hundred rifles in the hands of marauders who hid away in the hills and jungles and made conditions such that Mr. Taft was asked by the Director of Constabulary to suspend the writ of habeas corpus, thus declaring the province in a practical state of siege. Mr. Taft would not do this, saying that he thought the only course was to “hammer away with the constabulary until the abuse was stamped out by the regular methods of supposedly peaceful times,” but the worst feature of the situation was that wherever ladronism showed its head there would be cohorts of "irreconcilables"—posing in every-day life as loyal citizens—ready, within the limits of personal safety, to encourage and assist it. Anything to hamper and harass the government.
Shortly after Mr. Taft’s arrival in Manila, the vice-Governor, General Wright, and Mrs. Wright left the Islands for a well-earned vacation and my husband wrote that the amount of work which confronted him was staggering. He took on General Wright’s department in addition to his own duties, and if it hadn’t been that he had at least half way learned not to try to “hurry the East” he probably would not have lasted long.
Among the first steps to be taken was to provide against the inevitable famine, and to do this it was necessary for the Government to send to China and Saigon for large quantities of rice to be stored in public godowns. They bought and brought to Manila something like forty million pounds of this first of all necessities to an oriental people, and the intention was to sell it at cost when the market supply began to run low and prices began to soar beyond the poor man’s reach. A certain degree of paternalism has always been, is now, and probably always will be necessary in the government of the Filipino people.
Mr. Taft besought the United States Congress to appro​priate a sum to be used for the importation of work animals, for the purchase of rice and the furnishing of work on public improvements. The animals were not to be given away, but were eventually to be sold at reasonable prices. Three millions were appropriated and spent.
Congress was also petitioned to establish a gold standard of currency, and this too was done, to the inexpressible relief of everybody interested in the Philippine welfare, in the following January. ‘The currency now is as sound as our own, every silver peso, which corresponds to the old “dollar Mex,” being worth fifty cents gold.
When I arrived in Manila in early October I found the situation more interesting than it had ever been, even though it was distracting to the men who had to deal with it. My first necessity was, of course, to settle myself once more at Malacafian. During my absence the old Palace had been all done over, painted and patched and cleaned and redecorated until it was quite unlike its quaint, old dilapidated self. Some of the colours were a shade too pronounced and some of the decorations ran a little more to "graceful patterns" than suited my taste, but I was glad of the added comfort and cleanliness.
It was difficult in the beginning to accustom myself to cholera conditions. ‘The disease was communicated to very few Americans or other white foreigners, but safety was secured at the price of eternal vigilance. Water could not be drunk unless it was boiled under one’s personal supervision; nothing uncooked could be eaten, not even a piece of imported fruit, unless it had first been washed in a carbolic solution, a process, I may say, which added nothing desirable to its flavour; a good many other precautions were necessary which made us feel as if we were living always in the lowering shadow of some dreadful catastrophe, but, even so, we were surprisingly calm about it - everybody was - and ​managed to come through the experience without any visible ill-effects.
There was one new thing for me, and that was a live cow. For two long years we had manfully striven to make ourselves believe that we liked canned milk and condensed cream just as much as we liked the fresh milk we had been used to all our lives. In fact, we were fond of declaring that we couldn't tell the difference. But we could. And in our secret hearts we all welcomed as the most delectable treat an occasional gift of skimmed milk from a friend who had been a pioneer in the momentous venture of importing an Australian cow.
The importation of our cow was a real event, and she straightway took up a position of great dignity and importance in our establishment. She roamed at will about the grounds of the Palace and her general conduct was the subject of daily comment in the family circle. A number of people brought in cows about this time, but very few of them lived long enough to prove their dairy worth. Our cow flourished and gave forth large quantities of milk, and this fact became the subject of what was supposed to be a huge joke.
Mr. Worcester, who was the high chief health authority in the Islands, decreed that all animals as they were brought in should be inoculated for rinderpest, tuberculosis, and a number of other things,—"including prickly heat," said General Wright,—but it just so happened that a great majority of these scientifically treated beasts died almost immediately, and General Wright could always arouse the wrath of Mr. Worcester—a thing he loved to do—by suggesting that the only reason our cow lived was because "she had not been inoculated."
The presence of the cow having given me a true farmer spirit—at least, I suppose it was the cow—I decided to have ​a garden. There were very few vegetables that the Filipinos knew how to raise at that time, and our longing for fresh things was constant and intense. I selected a promising looking spot behind the Palace, had it prepared for planting, then I bought a supply of fresh American seeds and carefully buried them in places where I thought they might develop into something. The result was positively astonishing. The soil was rich and the sun was hot, and in an incredibly short time we were having quantities of beans and cauliflower and big red tomatoes and all kinds of things.
My ambition grew with success and I branched out into poultry. The first thing anybody knew I had a big screened yard full of chickens and turkeys little and big, which were a source of great enjoyment to us all both in their noisy feathered state in the chicken yard and done up in a variety of Ah Sing styles on our very well supplied table. I wonder how my cook made up the "squeeze" out of which he was cheated by my industry and thrift.
But, dwelling on these minor details I am getting far ahead of my story. There were many things in the meanwhile engaging my attention, the most important of which, I suppose, was the great church schism.
Gregorio Aglipay, an Ilocano priest of the Roman Catholic Chureh, joined the original insurrection against Spain, or the Friars rather, at its inception and was excommunicated. He became an insurgent leader with a reputation for great cruelty, and continued in the field against Spain, and subsequently against the United States, untit resistance was no longer possible. He was among the last insurrecto chiefs to surrender in northern Luzon. When peace was restored he began immediately to solicit the interest and aid of other Filipino priests, of politicians and influential men in a plan for organising an Independent Filipino Catholic Church, and his temporary success must have surprised even him.
ARCH ERECTED BY THE PARTIDO FEDERAL REPRESENTING FILIPINA OFFERING ANOTHER STAR TO THE AMERICAN FLAG
The result may easily be imagined. The Roman Catholic organisation had controlled Philippine affairs, both temporal and spiritual, for so long that the possibility of a rebellion of this character had never been thought of. Every loyal Catholic, and especially every bishop and priest and friar, was horrified, and an almost frantic controversy began to rage about the devoted head of the civil Governor as soon as he arrived in Manila. He was appealed to to take drastic action to suppress the movement and because he could do nothing even to check it the American government was reviled in the Catholic press as it had never been reviled before. Mr. Taft calmly met the storm with an iteration and reiteration of American principles of religious toleration, and declared that he had neither right nor wish to try to direct the religious inclinations of the people, and that all he could do in the matter was to enforce the keeping of the peace.
The people had been taught by Aglipay and his fellow-conspirators, and, indeed, by the whole history of church buildings in the Islands, that church properties belonged to the people and that if they wished to do so it was right for ​them to oust the regularly constituted priests from the churches and to turn these edifices over to the Independent body. This the government would not allow, holding that any dispute over property rights must be settled by due process of law. A few riots ensued wherein the constabulary and police came in violent contact with the Aglipayanos, but the Filiplino is quick to recognise justice, and this decree of the government was very readily given general acceptance.
Mr. Taft was repeatedly warned by the allies of Rome that the movement was nothing but a cloak for the worst insurrection against the government that the Filipinos had yet attempted, and this suspicion was somewhat strengthened by the fact that many of the least tractable insurrecto leaders were among its directors, but in the main the schismatics evinced every desire to obey the injunction laid upon them not to resort to incendiary methods. And it was thought that the treatment they received in return would probably do more than all the preaching in the world to convince them that under American sovereignty they were actually to enjoy complete religious freedom.
Liberty to take possession of property by force was denied them, but liberty to think and worship as they pleased was not only given them, but in the peaceful exercise of this liberty they even enjoyed police protection, and this was a never-before-heard-of thing which gave them food for very serious thought. Under Spanish dominion Aglipay would have been taken to the Luneta and shot as José Rizal was shot, and his followers would have met and mourned in secret, but the American authorities held, according to American beliefs, that an Aglipayan, or independent Catholic organisation, had as much right to parade in the streets with candles and images as had the Roman Catholic or any other religious body.
Mr. Taft had vaguely suggested the possibility of some such development as this during his visit to the Vatican, ​but it made no impression. However, now that it had come, it gave the American Commission some advantage in the Friars and Friars' lands negotiations because it was sure to convince the Vatican that the case of the Friars was hopeless and so inspire speedier action than might otherwise be hoped for.
In the midst of it all the Apostolic Delegate, Archbishop Guidi of Stauropoli, arrived from Rome! He was an Italian, very friendly and tolerant, with neither fanatic nor ascetic tendencies. He was by no means adverse to taking part in any kind of social gaiety and I remember that at one of our first entertainments after his arrival he expressed great regret that he could not join in the Rigodon. I came to enjoy association with him exceedingly.
At one of my first receptions that season quite a dramatic scene occurred in the ballroom. A thousand or more people, perhaps, had passed the receiving line. Monsignor Guidi came in all his stately regalia, and shortly afterward Aglipay put in an appearance. The people wandered around all over the place, circulating through the spacious gardens and around the verandahs, so there was a possibility that these two would not meet even though they were both very conspicuous figures. But it was not long before the Papal Delegate hurried up to Mr. Taft and, in a state of visible excitement, inquired who the stranger in the striking religious garb might be.
"That," said Mr. Taft, "is Aglipay."
"But, you know," said the Monsignor, "it is impossible for you to receive him here when I am present!"
Then Mr. Taft once more laboriously explained the standpoint of the American government, saying that Aglipay was in his house in his private capacity as a citizen, that he had as much right there as any other citizen, and that it would not be possible to ask him to leave as long as he conducted himself as a guest should.
​"Then, I shall have to go," said Monsignor Guidi.
"I am very sorry," said Mr. Taft. "I understand your position perfectly and I trust you understand mine as well."
So the highest of insular Church dignitaries got his hat and hastened away while the "renegade and impious impostor" remained—in serene unconsciousness of the disturbance he had created? Perhaps not. At least he was serene.
But our relations with Monsignor Guidi continued most agreeable during our entire stay in the Islands. Mr. Taft thought very highly of him as a man and an ecclesiastical statesman and diplomat and greatly regretted his death which occurred after we left the Islands. Through him, the question of the Friars' lands was settled as Pope Leo had told Mr. Taft it would be, satisfactorily to the United States. To bring that story, which was distractingly long drawn out in reality, to a close, I will merely add that the government succeeded in purchasing the Friars' lands for the sum of $7,000,000; they were turned into a public domain to be sold under most encouraging conditions, to their tenants and others who wished to acquire homesteads. The Friars were not sent back to the parishes and many left the Islands.
However this was not brought about without the protracted exercise of patience and diplomacy in the very midst of which the long arm of Washington reached out and touched my busy husband on the shoulder. He came home one day with a puzzled air and a cablegram from President Roosevelt. This cablegram read, in part:
Taft, Manila. On January first there will be a vacancy on the Supreme Court to which I earnestly desire to appoint you.…I feel that your duty is on the Court unless you have decided not to adopt a judicial career. I greatly hope you will accept. Would appreciate early answer.
Roosevelt.
​This came before I had been in the Islands a month and when Mr. Taft was so deep in the complications of his work that he was almost a stranger to his friends.
There was an accompanying cablegram from Secretary Root strongly urging acceptance on the score of my husband's impaired health. Mr. Root declared that he was most unwilling to lose his services in the Philippines, but thought it better for him "not to take any serious risk of breaking down and having to leave the Islands an invalid even after a considerable period of further service." As Mr. Taft was feeling particularly well and was taking daily exercise and keeping himself in excellent condition this sounded rather like anticipating a very unlikely calamity, but the last time Mr. Root had seen him he was anything but robust so it was easy to understand the Secretary's friendly concern for him.
What to do? This was not a question which gave Mr. Taft even a shade of hesitation, because he knew immediately what he must do. All his life his first ambition had been to attain the Supreme Bench. To him it meant the crown of the highest career that a man can seek, and he wanted it as strongly as a man can ever want anything. But now that the opportunity had come acceptance was not to be thought of. I had always been opposed to a judicial career for him, but at this point I shall have to admit I weakened just a little. I remembered the year of illness and anxiety we had just been through; and sometimes I yearned to be safe in Washington even though it did mean our settlement in the "fixed groove" that I had talked against for so long.
Mr. Taft's plain and unmistakable duty held him in the Philippine Islands. He knew he could not detach himself completely from the enterprise upon which he was engaged without grave consequences to it. His one cause for uncertainty as to what he should do lay in a suspicion that he ​might have done something to embarrass the Administration in a political sense, or that his opponents in the monastic orders and Friars' lands controversy might have made representations which caused the President to consider his removal "upstairs" advisable. He discussed the matter confidentially with Mr. Benito Legarda and with the Chief Justice of the Philippines, Mr. Arellano, and the comment of the Chief Justice was: "There, the influence of the Friars has reached even to Washington." Mr. Taft cabled to his brother Henry in New York to make private inquiries in this connection, since he did not wish to remain in the islands if his presence there was in any way undesirable, but at the same time he cabled to the President:
President Roosevelt, Washington. Great honour deeply appreciated but must decline. Situation here most critical from economic standpoint. Change proposed would create much disappointment and lack of confidence among people. Two years now to follow of greater importance to development of islands than previous two years. Cholera, rinderpest, religious excitement, ladrones, monetary crisis, all render most unwise change of Governor. These are sentiments of my colleagues and two or three leading Filipinos consulted confidentially. Nothing would satisfy individual taste more than acceptance. Look forward to the time when I can accept such an offer, but even if it is certain that it can never be repeated I must now decline. Would not assume to answer in such positive terms in view of words of your despatch if gravity of situation here was not necessarily known to me better than it can be known in Washington. Taft.
He also sent the following cablegram to Secretary Root:
Secwar, Washington. Referring to cablegram from your office of 26th inst. (October, 1902) my health is about as good as when I landed in 1900, but conditions here would make my withdrawal, unless absolutely compulsory, violation of duty. It may be that I shall be ill again, but I am more careful now than before. Chance has thrown every obstacle in the way of our success, but we shall win. I long for a judicial career but if it must turn on my present decision I am willing to lose it. Taft.
Dear Will, I am disappointed, of course, that the situation is such as to make you feel it unwise for you to leave, because, exactly as no man can quite do your work in the islands, so no man can quite take your place as the new member of the Court. But, if possible, your refusal on the ground you give makes me admire you and believe in you more than ever. I am quite at a loss whom to appoint to the Bench in the place I meant for you. Everything else must give way to putting in the right man; but I can't make up my mind who is the right man.
Always affectionately yours,
Theodore Roosevelt.
So ended that period of wondering what we were to do. At least I thought it was ended, and while I settled down to the continued and continuous round of social "work" and pleasure, Mr. Taft proceeded with his strenuous fight against accumulated and complicated difficulties. We had Major General and Mrs. Miles with us at Malacañan for a time and after they left I went down to Batangas, where General Bell was in command, to "rest" awhile in Mrs. Bell's somewhat less crowded and exciting circle. I accepted with a high degree of pleasure the prospect of perhaps two more years in this very interesting field of work, but President Roosevelt had other views. It was scarcely a month after the Supreme Court incident was supposed to be closed when Mr. Taft received a letter which reopened it with a decisiveness which seemed final. Such parts of the letter as bear directly on the proposal to Mr. Taft I shall quote:
With affectionate regard,
Ever yours,
Theodore Roosevelt.
This seemed final enough as to be quite unanswerable, so I heaved a sigh of resignation and made some remark about the not unpleasing prospect of our all getting home alive at any rate. General Wright was to succeed to the Governorship, which was a great consolation to my husband, and we began at once to outline a programme of obedience to the President. Mr. Taft announced his impending departure and really considered that further argument was useless, but conditions were such that he could not resist the temptation to hazard one more protest. He cabled to Mr. Roosevelt:
The President, Washington, Recognise soldier's duty to obey orders. Before orders irrevocable by action however I presume on our personal friendship even in the face of your letter to make one more appeal, in which I lay aside wholly my strong personal disinclination to leave work of intense interest half done. No man is indispensable; my death would little interfere with programme, but my withdrawal more serious. Circumstances last three years have convinced these people, controlled largely by personal feeling, that I am their friend and stand for a policy of confidence in them and belief in their future and for extension of self-government as they show themselves worthy. Visit to Rome and proposals urged there assure them of my sympathy in regard to friars in respect to whose far-reaching influence they are mor​bidly suspicious. Announcement of withdrawal pending settlement of church question, economic crises, and formative political period when opinions of all parties are being slowly moulded for the better, will, I fear, give impression that change of policy is intended because other reasons for action will not be understood. My successor's task is thus made much heavier because any loss of the people's confidence distinctly retards our work here. I feel it is my duty to say this. If your judgment is unshaken I bow to it and shall earnestly and enthusiastically labour to settle question friars' lands before I leave, and to convince the people that no change of policy is at hand; that Wright is their warm friend as sincere as they think me, and that we both are but exponents of the sincere good will toward them of yourself and the American people. Taft.
After this things began to happen which nobody, least of all my husband, had anticipated. When the announcement was made that we were to leave there was, at first, just a buzz of astonishment and incredulity, but within two days the whole city of Manila was placarded, in all the necessary languages, with the simple and uniform sentiment: "Queremos Taft," "We Want Taft." Mr. Root's rendering of this in English was "I want you, Mah Honey, yes, I do." These announcements were printed in letters of all sizes and all colours, but the wording did not vary in the slightest degree; just, "We Want Taft."
Then on the morning of the 10th of January—the letter from Mr. Roosevelt was received on the 6th—we saw marching through the gates of Malacañan a column of citizens, blocks long, with bands playing, flags flying and many transparencies bobbing over their heads. These citizens packed themselves around the entrance of the Palace and proceeded to make a demonstration. It was rather saddening to us in view of our conviction that we must go, but we listened with what composure we could command to the eloquent speeches. The speakers came up into the Palace and addressed the crowd from a great window over the main entrance.
​Dr. Dominador Gomez, one of the popular orators and labour agitators, began by saying that Mr. Taft was the "saint" who had "the power to perform the great miracle" of uniting the distinct opinions and contrary motives of the people, and declared that "this is a spontaneous demonstration of affection for our Governor which is to be reduced to expression in a respectful petition to the President."
Dr. Xeres Burgos, an old insurrecto, said he spoke for no political party but in behalf of the mass of people which surrounded us,—"this people who wish to say to you that all those calamities which have weighed and do weigh upon the Filipinos are as nothing compared with the evil effect caused by your impending departure from this government, just at the precise moment when the Filipino people expect, through your honesty and love for them, an end to all economic and governmental disturbances, as well as the solution of the agricultural problem which is so closely interwoven with the Friar question. The Filipino people trust that the home government will not tear from their arms their beloved governor upon whom depends the happy solution of all Philippine questions. In a word: the Filipino people desire the continuation of Governor Taft in these Islands!"
Tomaso G. del Rosario likened Mr. Taft to a ship's rudder adept at "avoiding shallows" and "bringing her safe into port."
Then he said the Philippines were "rising from the ashes of a momentous revolution and advancing toward the future with a heart full of enthusiasm and hope," and that "a ruler lacking the qualifications so happily combined in Mr. Taft might faint by the wayside."
There were other speeches, but the climax came when Pedro A. Paterno began by comparing Mr. Taft with Jesus Christ, saying that "as Christ had converted the cross into a symbol of glory and triumph, so had Governor Taft ​turned a dying people to the light and life of modern liberties."
This sounds quite blasphemous in English, but the Filipinos take strange liberties with holy names which shock us but which to them are mere expressions of piety. Jesus is a favourite name for boy babies, while there is a street of "The Heart of Jesus" in Manila, and many others equally inconsistent with our more reticent taste.
Needless to say the cable between Manila and Washington was crowded that day with protests to the President; protests not only from citizens and committees of citizens, but from all Mr. Taft's colleagues in the government, both Filipino and American. Two days later my husband received a message from Mr. Roosevelt which gave us all a hearty laugh. It read, simply: "Taft, Manila, All right stay where you are. I shall appoint some one else to the Court. Roosevelt."
Altogether it was quite an exciting event. After the "smoke of battle" had cleared away Mr. Taft rose up out of his depression and went to work with renewed vigour and strengthened confidence, but I began to think that after all the demonstrations and protestations we should have to remain in the Islands the rest of our lives whether we wanted to or not. Six months later, however, we learned, to our consternation, that Mr. Root was going to resign as Secretary of War in the fall or winter following, and without a moment's hesitation as far as we could judge, the position was offered by Mr. Roosevelt to Mr. Taft. It was urged upon him, in fact. This was much more pleasing to me than the offer of the Supreme Court appointment, because it was in line with the kind of work I wanted my husband to do, the kind of career I wanted for him and expected him to have, so I was glad there were few excuses for refusing to accept it open to him. If it hadn't been ​that it was merely a case of transferring his services from the necessarily restricted field of work in the Philippines to the broader and more powerful field of general supervision of Philippine affairs in the War Department, he probably would have declined the appointment and begged to be left where he was, but the change was not to take place for a year and he knew that as soon as he had settled the Friars' question and a few other matters of importance in the Islands he could be of more use to the Filipino people in Washington than he could in Manila. General Wright was to succeed him, with Mr. Ide and Judge Smith, both trained men, in line of succession to follow General Wright, so with the promise of a few months in which to close up the affairs in which he was most deeply engrossed, he accepted the Cabinet office.
Shortly before we left Manila to take up our residence in Washington we decided to give a final and memorable entertainment. We wanted it to be something original, and pondered over it at great length. We thought we had given every kind of party that ingenuity could devise during our residence at Malacañan, but one evening, sitting out on the verandah looking across the still, softly-lapping river at the low-hung lights on the opposite bank, it suddenly occurred to me that we had an ideal setting for a Venetian Carnival, and a Venetian Carnival was settled upon without further ado. It was to be a masked ball, the front gates of the Palace grounds were to be closed and everybody was to come by boat to the river landing on the verandah below.
MR. AND MRS. TAFT, WITH MEMBERS OF THEIR FAMILY AND STAFF, INCLUDING MAJOR NOBLE, AIDE (AT LEFT), AND MR. FRED. C. CARPENTER, PRIVATE SECRETARY (RIGHT), IN COSTUMES WORN AT THE VENETIAN CARNIVAL
I knew right away what I should "go as." I would be a Venetian lady of romance days. But the question of Mr. Taft's costume was not so easily settled. If he hadn't interposed so many ideas of his own it would have been much simpler. In writing to his brother Charles he says: "It is a humiliating fact to me that every suggestion of a character for me by me has been summarily rejected by Nellie unless it involved the wearing of a gown of such voluminous proportions as to conceal my Apollo-like form completely. The proposal that I assume the character of an Igorrote chieftain because of the slight drain on capital and our costuming resources did not meet with favour. So it is settled that I must assume the robes and headgear of the husband of the Adriatic, the Doge of Venice. The question is whether the robe can be made historically accurate and at the same time so conceal my nether extremities as to make it unnecessary for me to dye my nether undergarments to a proper colour, for the entire Orient cannot produce tights of a sufficient size. The Council of War, meaning Nellie, has not advised me on the subject, but tights or no tights we shall have a Doge of Venice 'that never was on land or sea.'" And we did.
We called a committee of Filipinos to arrange about illuminations on the river and the decoration of launches, cascoes, bancas, rafts and barges, and this committee took the whole matter out of my hands and went to work with the zeal of children playing at some fascinating new game. They arranged for a number of pavilioned craft decorated with flowers, and offered a prize for the most beautiful and elaborate private launch, or boat of any kind. Then on either bank of the river they stretched lines of coloured electric lights and crossed the river at close intervals ​with other lines as far as the eye could see in both directions. The whole Palace building was outlined in electric lights, while the great trees and every little bush were wired and strung with a myriad multicoloured globes, hundreds of them covered with Japanese lanterns in fantastic colours and designs. All the garden walks and drives were bordered with tiny coloured lamps burning cocoanut oil, set close in against the well trimmed lawns, and when it was all finished and the light turned on the place was like a fairyland.
The date for the Carnival was set for full moon night, the third of December, and never will I forget the brilliance and beauty of the scene as one gay and picturesque barge or improvised gondola after another, full of laughing, chattering and singing people in masks and all manner of strange costumes, and with mandolins and guitars playing, floated up under the bright canopy of swinging globes, a million times reflected in the ripples of the river, to the ancient-looking, moss-grown landing where Mr. Taft and I, as the Doge of Venice and his Lady, stood receiving our guests with as much mock stateliness as we could command in the midst of such a merry throng. It will linger in my memory always as one of the most entrancing evenings of my life.
Rain was predicted, as usually happens when I give any kind of a garden party, and all day long I had watched the clouds with a feeling of helpless exasperation. I wanted fair weather; I wanted the moonlight; but as night came on lowering grey canopy seemed to float upward and spread itself out into a mere haze which softened and diffused the brightness and made ten times more effective our myriad swinging lamps and lanterns.
Everybody had done his or her utmost in the matter of costuming, and with a success that I never saw surpassed. All the fine old collections of jewels in the rich Spanish and Filipino families were taken out, and in many cases made ​over into special designs to deck oriental princesses, historic queens and noble ladies of storied fame.
Perhaps the most striking costume of all was worn by Mrs. Rafael Reyes, a tall dark Spanish lady of extraordinary beauty, the wife of a prominent and wealthy Filipino. Señora Reyes came as the Queen of Night, and she was literally ablaze with diamonds. Not brilliants nor rhinestones, but diamonds large and small, sewn all over the long graceful folds of her sweeping black robe to represent stars. On her small shapely head, crowned with a wealth of shining black hair, she wore a large diamond crescent. She caught the light and sparkled, her vivacious personality sparkling with her jewels. On that memorable occasion nobody who saw her could possibly forget her.
Dancing and frolicking continued long into the night, but as the evening wore to a close we began to feel a sense of depression. In a very few days we were to leave the Islands perhaps never to return, and this was our last party at old Malacañan. It is not amiss, I am sure, to say that every laughing face sobered and every voice took on a regretful tone as one by one our guests came up to say good night—and good-bye.