Biak-na-Bato ...The Crucible

  

Aguinaldo and his men in Dagupan train station. On their way to exile in Hong Kong.

Te Deum at the Manila Cathedral

January 23, 1898 - A "Te Deum Laudamus" was supposed to be sung at the Manila Cathedral, signaling the end of what the Spanish colonial regime at that time labeled as the "Insurreccion." The singing of the Te Deum was part of an agreement between Aguinaldo and the Spanish government known as "The Pact of Biak-na-Bato."

Among the points agreed upon for a truce were the following:

1.) That Aguinaldo and his companions would go into voluntary exile abroad;

2.) That Governor General Fernando Primo de Rivera would pay the sum of 800,000 pesos to the rebels in three installments: (a) 400,000 pesos to Aguinaldo upon his departure from Biak-na-Bato, (b) 200,000 pesos when the arms surrendered by the revolutionaries exceeded 700, and (c) the remaining 200,000 pesos when the "Te Deum" was sung and general amnesty proclaimed by the governor.

3.) That Primo de Rivera would pay an additional sum of 900,000 pesos to the families of the non-combatant Filipinos who suffered during that armed conflict.

The "Te Deum" was never sang?

Aguinaldo, Paterno, and the Pact

General Emilio Aguinaldo held the cards the minute he reached Biak-na-Bato. For obvious reasons, the Spanish Army would not commit its young men into what could be a protracted jungle war. Perhaps the question should be thrown more to the Filipino side and to Aguinaldo: Could they last?

No less than Governor-General Fernando Primo de Rivera, in his speech in front of the Spanish Senate in 1898, described how Filipino fighters from Batangas and Laguna were able to evade the Spanish dragnet, traveling in groups of four or five, following the trail Aguinaldo did earlier, to eventually reach Bulacan and join forces with the troops of General Llanera. Was it an open admittance of a brilliant military tactic? Primo de Rivera would have none of it, but one thing was clear to him: the war had breached that "different territory," and Spain would rather wait.

Wait until someone takes the bait. And someone did take the bait: Pedro Paterno, who confessed that his love for both his country of birth, the Philippines, and mother Spain moved him to act as a mediator between the colonial government and Aguinaldo.

The Pact of Biak-na-Bato would not have come into existence if not for the eccentric and delusional character of Pedro Paterno. Many of his peers regarded him as a true-blooded "papansin," who fashioned himself in Spain as a Tagalog nobleman (maginoo). Paterno was able to convince Governor General Fernando Primo de Rivera that he had enough contacts to seek an armistice with the rebel revolutionaries and somehow find a way for peace. After months of shuttling from Manila to the rebels' lair, convincing the Aguinaldo group, and even to the point of bribing, Paterno was able to bring both rebel and Spain to sign what he termed as a formula for lasting peace: "the Pact of Biak-na-Bato."

Whatever advantage Aguinaldo gained in the stalemate was quickly transformed into a commodity. Name your price to stop all this "kaguluhan." Paterno was the broker. It was agreed upon at a fixed price. And to the utter dismay of those who, at the beginning, were opposed to the negotiations, the top brass of the Filipino revolution even agreed to be paid on an installment basis (ginawang hulugan) in exchange for halting the war.

It was said that wherever Aguinaldo stopped on the way to his self-imposed exile, people crowded around to catch a glimpse of him. He was allowed to move around in his uniform and, of course, with his revolver. Filipinos were seeing their "Primer Presidente" in his full regalia. Imagine the impact it created. Did he, for a minute, have a doubt that the decision to abandon was wrong?

Aguinaldo held the cards, even on the way to exile. In the Spanish Senate, Primo de Rivera frantically defended the conduct of his tenure above all the lull that was Biak-na-Bato—indeed the crucible! The name General Emilio Aguinaldo rang around the four corners of the Senate, reverberating outside into the broadest of all four corners. By then, it was all clear to Spain whom they had just dealt with, as if Aguinaldo was telling them: "I am the Philippines!"

The Events Leading to Exile (December 24-27, 1897)

On Christmas Eve of 1897, Spanish generals Celestino Tejeiro and Ricardo Monet linked up with Lt. Colonel Miguel Primo de Rivera. Together with a small detachment of escorts, they camped near the rebels' lair at Biak-na-Bato. From there, the Spanish military representatives met the core of Aguinaldo's officers for the final phase of the truce, which was aptly described by the press at the time as "La Pacificacion."

Tejeiro and Monet assured the leadership of the revolutionaries of the magnanimity of Spanish "indulto" (pardon) and the safe conduct of officers who were about to be transported out of Biak-na-Bato. Meanwhile, about 40 officers and men would be left behind to oversee the surrender of arms. This included generals Paciano Rizal, Mamerto Natividad, Isabelo Atracho, and Ignacio Paua.

Aguinaldo himself was received by the Spanish generals; with him were 37 of his officers and men. Together with Lt. Col. Primo de Rivera, the chief negotiator Pedro Paterno, and his brother Maximo, Aguinaldo and his men made a long trek from Biak-na-Bato to San Miguel, Bulacan (San Miguel de Mayumo), where they spent the night. The next day, Christmas Day, they continued and arrived in the afternoon in Baliwag, where they rested and slept for the night. At dawn the next day, the 26th, they carried on with the long walk and arrived at Quinga (Plaridel, Bulacan), where a small "lancha de vapor" awaited them. The small boat then took them to the Calumpit River for a rendezvous with a bigger boat. According to one account, as Aguinaldo stepped onto the boat, he removed his cap and shouted vivas for Spain, for His Majesty the King, and for the governor-general. The cheers were also greeted enthusiastically by the crowd around. This gesture of loyalty to Spain was repeated as Aguinaldo and his party transferred to the Spanish gunboat "Ceres" and also upon disembarking in Calumpit. From there, they were billeted in an inn, where they were served lunch at 11:30 in the morning.

A special train awaited Aguinaldo and his men in Calumpit. The said train left Manila early on the morning of the 26th and arrived at Calumpit station shortly before 9 a.m. By early afternoon, Aguinaldo had taken the train but made himself visible in the windows, where people were mingling around, perhaps watching to catch a glimpse of their el presidente, finally in person. Still, the shouts of "vivas" filled the air, an uncommon display of loyalty to a former foe.

The train left Calumpit around one in the afternoon, heading towards Dagupan. It was reported that as the train passed from station to station, the platforms were filled with curious crowds opting to shout "viva" as Aguinaldo's train passed by. The train had reached Dagupan by nightfall. Governor Oliver of Pangasinan received the party, but it was decided that they would not continue on to Sual, Pangasinan; instead, they would spend the night in Dagupan. Aguinaldo's party was then placed in the houses of the leading citizens of Dagupan to spend the night.

On December 27, 1897, around 7 a.m., 30 caruajes took Aguinaldo and his men to the provincial capitol, where they were treated to a succulent breakfast. After breakfast and a brief rest, the party continued on to the port of Sual. When they arrived there at past one o'clock in the afternoon, the steamship "Uranus" was already anchored.

The embarkation of the Biak-na-Bato group onto the Uranus was done at such a rapid pace that by 2 in the afternoon, Governor Oliver was already completing his accounting of men aboard, a report he would send to the Governor General within the hour.

It is also reported that Emilio Aguinaldo and his men, upon beholding the coast of Lingayen, shouted with undisguised emotion a frantic viva to Spain and the Spanish monarchy.

At three in the afternoon, the Uranus, lost almost in the infinite expanse of the sea, stood out like a tiny black dot on the limpid and turquoise limit of the visible horizon.

The Uranus was on its way to Hong Kong.

Filipino exiles in Hong Kong 1897 with Spanish Lt. Colonel Miguel Primo de Rivera,  seated at the center with Aguinaldo.  Standing behind is Pedro Paterno. The Filipino exiles will later be known as the "Hong Kong Junta"