Recollections of Full Years

state of suspense which can hardly be described; a state of suspense which included among its various elements the excitement of an intermittent guerilla warfare and frequent threats of native uprisings in Manila. Established order and a fixed governmental policy, so necessary to the tranquillity of the normal citizen, were nonexistent, and one experienced a sense of complete detachment which made plans for even the immediate future seem entirely futile. To unpack all one’s things; to establish a satisfactory home and give one’s attention to its ornamentation; to supply one’s self with the necessities of a long residence in the tropics; in other words, to settle down to the pursuit of a usual mode of existence; all these things had to be done, but, needless to say, they were not done with the enthusiasm incident to a feeling of permanence, nor did such enthusiasm begin to manifest itself in the local atmosphere until after the reelection of Mr. McKinley in 1900 when it became certain that the American flag was in the islands to stay as long as its presence there should be deemed requisite to the peaceful development of the country and the fitting of the people for self government.

There were those who saw long years ahead⁠—not all Americans, by any means⁠—and soon the American spirit began to make itself felt in business, in schemes of civic progress, in social life, in everything. We were there for a purpose which was at last defined, so we cheerfully confronted chaos and went to work.

We were sorry to note that the election of Mr. McKinley and the consequent establishment of the American status in the Philippines did not change the military attitude toward the manner of solving the governmental problems. The Commission was definitely pledged to the rapid adjustment of affairs on a civil and generally representative basis, but the military authorities still maintained that military rule would continue to be a necessity for an indefinite period.

However, the Civil Commission went on its way mapping out a programme of peaceful pacification and carrying it into effect as promptly as possible, while its activities engaged universal attention and formed the chief topic of conversation wherever two or more people were met together. Society became frivolous enough, but nobody ever got very far away from the questions of absorbing interest with which many of us were so closely associated.

Our first Christmas surely would have saddened us in our peculiar exile had we been able to realise its approach, but this was not possible. The “Christmas spirit” does not thrive in a temperature of eighty-odd degrees, and I think I would have taken little interest in preparations for the holidays had not my children been there to remind me that Christmas is Christmas no matter what the thermometer may say about it. It was still the most important day in the year for them and it was almost pathetic to see them trying to defeat the climate through sheer force of their imaginations. It was a “green Christmas” with a vengeance, and very hot.

Our friends at home had not forgotten that we were more than a month’s journey away and letters began to arrive as early as November in each of which some mention was made of a box which would be sent from Cincinnati in time to reach us before Christmas and, naturally, we began at once to imagine its contents. For weeks our children’s favourite amusement was exchanging guesses as to what sort of gifts their affectionate relatives had sent them. Nor were their Aunt Maria and I any less excited. There were transports every two weeks in those days and we were not at all disappointed not to receive our box on the early December ship. There would be another one in on Christmas day and it would be much nicer, we thought, to get it then, and never a doubt did we have that it would come. Mr. Taft had a messenger ready to get it and bring it to the house as soon as it could be landed.

From our balcony we watched the transport steam up the bay; we felt the interest that only a Christmas box from home, ten thousand miles away, could excite; we forgot that it was eighty in the shade; it was really Christmas. We waited as patiently as we could for our messenger, but when he arrived he had only sympathy to offer us. The box had not come. It was a most depressing disappointment, and the children were inconsolable. However, everybody cheered up about dinner time. I had done what I could with red ribbons and greenery, with cotton wool and diamond dust to create the proper atmosphere; then we had invited a number of homeless young secretaries and others to take Christmas cheer with us, and though the cold storage turkey was tough and the cranberry sauce and plum-pudding were from Commissary cans, we managed a near approach to a Yuletide air, and little Charlie went to bed with his Escolta toys quite as happy as he would have been had he been at home in his own country. I assured the three children that the box from home would come in on the next transport and promised that we would then have Christmas all over again. But I reckoned without knowledge of the shipping methods of the transport service. Transports came and transports went; our hopes were dashed to earth any number of times and it was endless weeks before our carefully prepared and holly-decked presents finally arrived.

On New Year’s morning General MacArthur gave a reception at Malacañan Palace. It was such an affair as is spoken of in social circles everywhere as “the event of the season.” It was a very special event to all the members of the Commission and their families, because not one of us had ever been invited to the Palace before.

There was much discussion of the serious subject as to what the civil government officials