In Manila, at the formal opening of the first Assembly, Mr. Taft laid down the purposes of the Administration in the passage of the Philippine Act, plainly saying to the Philippine people that independence was not near at hand, and that it could only come after a period of earnest effort on their part to fit themselves for complete self-government. His candour and frankness did not please many of the Assembly, but his view has always been that the only way in which to deal with the Filipino people is to tell them the exact truth, unpalatable though it may be, and to fulfil promises with the greatest care. Filipinos may be very lax in discharging the full measure of their own assurances, but the way to maintain influence over them is to pursue a policy of clear and candid statement, full performance and exact justice. They are prone to accept every declaration in the same sense in which they would like to construe it, and the utmost care must be taken to prevent their being misled. Demagoguery with them is likely to be most pernicious in its ultimate results.
During this visit we were the guests of Governor-General Smith at Malacañan Palace and I experienced a pleasant renewal of old impressions and sensations. Mr. W. Cameron Forbes, who succeeded Governor Smith, was then Secretary of Commerce and Police and, in this capacity, was in charge of Public Works. He had built for himself at Baguio a fine country residence which he called “Topside,” a name which fits it exactly, since it stands, literally, at the “topside” of the island of Luzon, at an elevation of more than five thousand feet, and overlooks the broadest and most colourful stretch of mountain scenery imaginable. We visited Mr. Forbes at “Topside” and were able to see for the first time the splendid achievements in the development of the summer capital which I anticipated in Chapter IX. Mr. Taft assured an enthusiastic enquirer that he was not surprised at the magnificence of the Benguet Road because he had authorised the expenditure of a sufficient amount to produce something unusual, and that he would, indeed, have been surprised if it hadn’t been done. But he had to confess to a little surprise at the improvement of the town of Baguio. The difference was so great that it was almost impossible to recognise the place as the site of the ragged little Igorrote village where I had spent such pleasant and “uncivilised” days just before my husband’s inauguration as the first governor of the Philippines.
It would be useless for me to attempt to detail the thousand and one events of this visit to Manila. Upon our arrival we were handed a printed schedule of dinners, luncheons, teas, receptions, balls, meetings, celebrations, trips of inspection, and business conferences which we had to do our best to carry out. Fortunately provision was made for a few hours of rest which could be used for other things when we got behind with the programme.
On a day in November, when blue Manila Bay lay sparkling in the sun, we set sail for Vladivostok on the U.S.S. Rainbow, flying the flag of Admiral Hemphill, and convoyed by two other naval vessels. The most amusing incident of this trip, which was quite a tempestuous one, was the gradual freezing up of our Filipino orchestra. They left Manila clad in natty white uniforms, responding with enthusiasm to the strains of the many bands on shore and on the fleet of harbor launches which accompanied us down the bay. They played for us at dinner that night and gave a concert on deck the next day, but then began the rapid descent of the mercury in the thermometers and the consequent undoing of our tropical musicians. They first changed into heavy blue uniforms and tried their best to look comfortable. Then they put on their overcoats and kept them on. Finally they deserted the deck altogether and their rather disconnected strains came up to us through a partly open hatch just over the engine room. When we reached the forbidding harbour of Vladivostok, where the temperature stood below zero, the poor bugler was so thoroughly cold that he couldn’t adjust his lips to his bugle to pipe distinguished visitors aboard. Our party on this trip around the world was small, including only my son Charlie, Mr. Taft’s secretary, Mr. Fred C. Carpenter, General Clarence R. Edwards, Mr. and Mrs. Martin Egan and two other newspaper correspondents.
Shortly before we reached Vladivostok there had been a mutiny on one of the torpedo boats in the harbour, and a woman anarchist had induced the crew to take the boat out into the stream and raise the red flag. This outbreak was suppressed with a heavy hand, and a number of those suspected of complicity in the plot were arrested. As the Governor had power of life and death over them it was assumed that the extreme penalty was visited on some of them at least, but no publicity was given to the proceedings. The effect of the tragedy upon our arrival, however, was marked. The town was in a most unquiet state and there were vague rumours of danger to be met on every hand. We were not permitted to go ashore without a heavy guard of bristling Cossacks, and everywhere we went we were under the closest and most careful protection. It was most exciting, though in the midst of the cordial hospitality of
