The Dawning of the Republic - Part I (September-October 1896)

 

Execution in Cavite September 1896

Days after the Katipunan's attack in San Juan, Manila was gripped by the fear of a full-fledged insurrection, similar in magnitude to that in Cuba, spreading to the suburbs and nearby provinces in a short time. The Spanish crown, already challenged by dwindling resources due to years of fighting revolutionaries in its prized Caribbean possessions, was frantic to avert another impending disaster. Other European powers were eagerly eyeing their hidden interests in the Pacific, waiting for Spain to finally fall. Meanwhile, the American press continued to entice the American public with the idea of U.S. intervention in the Cuban conflict.

At the start of the revolution, the colonial government in the Philippines rounded up suspected leaders and sympathizers of the uprising. It first vented its anger and vengeance on its known critics, the "Ilustrados," some of whom curiously returned to the Philippines from Europe one by one just before the unrest. A number of them, overtaken by the events unleashed by forces from the lower strata of society, chose to side with the Spanish crown.

In the early morning of September 4, 1896, in the fields of Bagumbayan, four Katipunan members were executed—the first in a series of executions that would stain the bright dawn with red as the day broke.

There would be more executions, a demand for blood. Guilty or innocent, it did not matter. Among the names the government and the friars sought to pin down, one was so notorious that it brought utter revulsion, leading to a declaration of their highest disgust and the desire for his swift elimination.

In the first week of September 1896, while a number of Filipinos were being arrested and executed in Manila, Jose Rizal received notice of his impending detention while in his cabin on a ship. He was already on his way to Europe, with a transit stop to collect documents, letters, and approval for his request to serve as a medical doctor for the Spanish Army in Cuba.

Back in Manila, rumors circulated that the fighting in its suburbs was just a prelude to something bigger—a direct attack on the walled city itself, using dynamite, which the Katipuneros were claimed to possess in large quantities. Meanwhile, fresh troops were on their way to reinforce the much-beleaguered colonial armed forces.

Arrival of Spanish Expeditionary Forces in Manila October 1896

The much-awaited reinforcement from Spain arrived on the first day of October 1896. It consisted of the Infantería Marina, which first disembarked at the port of Cavite and then made its way through the streets of Manila, marching from the port area toward the heart of the city. Two weeks later, three more expeditions arrived, composed primarily of the Infantería Marina and the highly regarded Cazadores. By the end of the month, approximately 5,000 Spanish expeditionary troops had concentrated in Manila and the nearby provinces.

Manila was adorned with triumphal arches celebrating the glory of the Spanish crown and the army, though there was no conquering Caesar riding in a chariot. Instead, young Spanish soldiers, drawn from the dwindling manpower of the empire, were seen. The long-awaited reinforcement, eagerly anticipated by the loyal subjects of Spain, had finally arrived.

Thousands of miles away, in Spain's last dominion in the Caribbean, upheavals and revolutions raged. In Spain itself, agitation heightened daily as various political groups, including liberals, conservatives, and anarchists, vied for attention.

Manila had been under martial law since the start of the upheavals. The arrival of fresh troops gave the city a false sense of security. Soon, these soldiers would be deployed to hunt down the revolutionaries in the forests, marshes, and countryside outside Manila.

Meanwhile, the Spaniards of Manila were suddenly filled with high spirits, knowing that the mother country had not abandoned them and that reinforcements were now in the city. Weeks before the arrival of the expeditionary forces, rumors had circulated that Katipuneros were lurking in the suburbs, and reports of fighting in the province of Morong had been ongoing. Indeed, forces under Gen. Llanera were reported to be operating from Montalban to San Jose, Bulacan.

In November of the same year, there was a bold plan for a new Katipunan attack. The objective was to sever the communication and transportation lines along the Pasig River, denying the Spaniards the use of the river while establishing a Katipunan supply line to and from Bulacan. The center of the attack would be the town of Pasig, Taguig and Pateros.

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Sancho Valenzuela

In the photograph, the noticeable height of one of the captives is evident. Meanwhile, surrounding him are soldiers, with their uniforms and rifles clearly visible. However, their appearance and complexion unmistakably reveal that they too are Filipinos. These were Filipinos who served in Spain's colonial military in the Philippines, soldiers in the Colonial Forces who directly fought against the Katipuneros. Almost all of them were pure Filipinos—just under the command of a Spanish officer or, in some cases, a mestizo.

The tall man is said to be Sancho Valenzuela, a businessman-entrepreneur and owner of a rope and abaca factory in Mandaluyong. There is an account that he was a Katipunero, but according to Julio Nakpil, who became the secretary and later the head of the Katipunan Northern Command, Sancho Valenzuela was merely implicated and falsely accused because the Katipuneros rested and ate at his place during the battles in Pandacan, Sta. Mesa, Mandaluyong, and San Juan. Allegedly, the gunfire and fighting took place at or near his factory.

The photograph reveals many details if we examine it closely. One of these is the soldier caught in one angle, who is barefoot—just like Sancho Valenzuela and his fellow captive, are they also "deszapatados"?

On September 4, 1896, Sancho Valenzuela was executed in Bagumbayan along with several Filipinos, charged with rebellion.

Today, a street in Mandaluyong, said to lead to the former site of Sancho Valenzuela's rope and abaca factory, is named after this tall man who is said to have been wrongfully accused. Whatever the truth may be, the story of Sancho Valenzuela is worth mentioning. I also ask, why would you offer shelter from the rain or allow Katipuneros, who were being pursued by the well-armed colonial forces, to eat at your place?