Bright and early the next morning the reception committee came out in a steam launch, accompanied by Colonel Gardiner, the American Army officer in command of the garrison. The Filipinos, immaculate little ex-insurrectos to a man, proudly climbed the gangway, stopped to adjust their attire, then proceeded to bid us welcome with the utmost grace. Their spokesman made the usual cordial speech, which Mr. Fergusson solemnly interpreted. He laid at our feet everything to which he or the town of Lucena had any claim, and assured us that the honour of our visit was most deeply appreciated by the entire community; then he and his companions stood smiling before us while Mr. Fergusson turned my husband’s simple words of thanks and appreciation into Spanish metaphor and hyperbole.
I have often thought that America never could have won the friendship of the Filipinos if it hadn’t been for Mr. Arthur Fergusson’s clever tongue. My husband’s smile and frank geniality accomplished much, but his interpreter’s suavity struck a deeper and more familiar chord and together they created harmony. They were a remarkable pair as they stood side by side. Neither of them weighed less than three hundred pounds, but Mr. Taft was blond and ruddy, Anglo-Saxon no less in appearance than in manner and speech, while Mr. Fergusson was dark and rather dashing and seemed naturally to assume the lofty mien of a Spaniard when he spoke the beautiful Spanish tongue. Mr. Fergusson became Executive Secretary of the Islands when Civil Government was established and continued in that office until his death about six years ago. His loss to the men who were then doing America’s work in the Philippines was incalculable and the whole community, Filipinos and Americans alike, joined in the warmest tributes to his memory that have ever been paid to an American in the Islands.
When we arrived at the landing in Lucena we found a motley throng of vehicles awaiting us, and were greeted by a roar of vociferous speech from the cocheros which sounded like imprecations, but which turned out to be the Filipino equivalent for the deafening “Cab, lady! Cab, sir!” with which travellers are welcomed at so many American railway stations.
Mr. Taft and I, who seemed, in the opinions of our hosts, to be the only persons of real importance present, were ceremoniously escorted to a diminutive Victoria decorated with flowers, while the rest of the party indiscriminately clambered into the nearest conveyances. Then started a mad race down an execrable road, where the holes and ruts were so filled with dust that there was no way of foreseeing or preparing for the bumps. Our carriage, being a sedate “flower parade” all by itself, was soon left far behind by the sportier two wheel vehicles, and when we arrived at the Municipal Building, where the meeting was to be held, confusion reigned. I have no doubt that several private secretaries had been greeted as the honourable “Presidente del Commission,” but if so, their fleeting honours detracted nothing from the welcome we received.
The streets were crowded with men, women and children waving flags and shrilly cheering, and just in front of the hall were drawn up two Filipino bands dressed in gorgeous, heavy uniforms decorated with such scraps of gold lace as they had been able to procure. Together they struck up the “Star Spangled Banner,” but they kept together for just about two bars, each leader having his own fixed idea as to the proper tempo. One band finished several bars ahead of the other, and immediately, without so much as a lowering of instruments, it hurled itself into “A Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight,” whereupon the uplift of “Don’t you hear those bells go ding-a-ling” collided merrily with the solemn sentiment of “Long may it wave!” Yet nobody laughed. We were cultivating a sobriety of demeanour because we knew we were dealing with a people whose ears heard not and whose eyes saw not as we hear and see.
The meeting which followed our spectacular reception was exceedingly interesting. The questions of the Commissioners elicited the information that Tayabas had been completely pacified for more than a year, although the surrounding provinces, Cavite, Laguna and Batangas, were among the most unruly in the Archipelago. This happy state of affairs seems to have been produced by Colonel Gardiner, in command of the garrison, who had displayed great tact in dealing with the peacefully inclined Filipinos and absolute military rigidity in his attitude toward the insurrectos. That his methods had gained popular approval was evidenced by the fact that every town in the province petitioned the Commission to make him Governor. The requisite permission to do this having been obtained from General MacArthur, who, as Military Governor, had specially to detail army officers for such service, it was done amid general rejoicing made violent by brassy discords from the jubilant bands which nearly drove me out of the building.
There were many speeches and Mr. Taft, as usual, read and explained the Provincial Code to the assembly. After I had listened almost daily for more than six weeks to that dry-as-dust document I was sure that I could repeat it backward if I tried. Mr. Taft finished his speech with a neat little summing up of conditions in general—mellifluously embellished by Mr. Fergusson—then he introduced Chief Justice Arellano as the ablest lawyer in the Islands and a man whom any country would be proud to own; which was literally true. The Chief Justice spoke for some time, earnestly, appealingly, and with great dignity, and he was listened to with reverence. I had hoped that his speech would end the proceedings, but this was only the beginning of my experience with the Filipino love of oratory and I never thereafter entertained any optimistic ideas with
