CHAPTER XX
THE PROCESSION.
In the evening, by the light of lanterns hung from windows, to the
ringing of bells and bursting of bombs, the procession started for
the fourth time.
The Governor General left the house on foot, in company with his two
adjutants, Captain Tiago, the Alcalde, the alferez, and Ibarra. The
Civil Guards and the officials of the town preceded them and cleared
the way. His Excellency had been invited to witness the procession
from the house of the gobernadorcillo, in front of which a platform
had been erected for the recitation of a loa, or religious poem,
in honor of the Patron Saint. Ibarra had previously declined with
pleasure an invitation to hear this poetical composition, as he had
preferred to witness the procession from the house of Captain Tiago
with Maria Clara and her friends. But, as His Excellency wished to
hear the loa, there was no other remedy for Ibarra but to console
himself with the hope of seeing her at the theatre.
The procession was headed by three sacristans carrying silver
candlesticks. The children of the school, accompanied by their
teacher, followed. Then came the small boys, with colored paper
lanterns fastened to the ends of pieces of bamboo, each more or
less adorned according to the caprices of the boy, for this part
of the illumination was paid for entirely by themselves. However,
they fulfilled this duty with a great deal of pleasure.
In the midst of it all, men serving as police, passed to and fro to
see that the files of the procession were not broken or the people
jammed together in a crowd. For this purpose they used their wands
and inflicted some hard blows, thus managing to add to the brilliancy
of the procession, to the edification of souls and to the glory of
religious pomp.
At the same time that the officers inflicted these sanctified floggings
with their wands free of charge, others, to console those who had
been punished, distributed wax and tallow candles, also free of charge.
"Senor Alcalde," said Ibarra, in a low voice, "do they inflict those
blows to punish the sinners or merely for pleasure?"
"You are right, Senor Ibarra," replied the Governor General, who had
overheard his question. "This spectacle ... barbarous ... astonishing
to those who come from other countries, ought to be prohibited."
Although it cannot be explained, the first saint who appeared
was San Juan el Baptisto. On seeing him, you would say that the
cousin of Our Saviour did not enjoy any great renown among these
people. He had slender feet and legs and the face of a hermit, and
was carried along on an old wooden litter. In marked contrast to the
representation of San Juan, was that of San Francisco, the founder of
the great order. The latter was drawn in a car, and, as Tasio said:
"What a car! How many lights and glass lanterns! Why, I have never
seen you surrounded by so many illuminations, Giovanni Bernardone! And
what music!"
Behind the music came a standard representing the same saint, but with
seven wings. It was carried by the brothers of the Third Order, dressed
in guingon and praying in a loud and mournful voice. The next in the
procession was Santa Maria Magdalena, a most beautiful image with
an abundant growth of hair, a handkerchief of embroidered pina cloth
between her ring-covered fingers, and wearing a dress of silk adorned
with gold-leaf. Lights and incense surrounded her. The glass tears from
her eyes reflected the colors of the colored fire which was burned here
and there, giving a fantastic aspect to the procession. Consequently,
the sinful saint appeared to be weeping now green, now red and now blue
tears. The people did not begin to burn these colored lights till San
Francisco was passing; San Juan el Baptisto did not enjoy this honor,
passing by quickly, ashamed perhaps to go dressed in skins among so
many saints covered with gold and precious jewels.
"There goes our saint!" cried the daughter of the gobernadorcillo to
her visitors. "I loaned her my rings, but I did it to get to Heaven."
Those carrying the illuminations stopped near the platform to hear
the loa. The saints did the same. They and their carriers wanted
to hear the verses. Those who carried San Juan, tired of waiting,
squatted down in the characteristic Filipino manner, and found it
convenient to leave their burden on the ground.
"You'll get into trouble," objected one.
"Jesus! In the sacristy, they leave him in a corner among
spider-webs..."
After Magdalena came the women. They differed from the men in
arrangement. Instead of the children, the old women came first and
finally the unmarried women. Behind these came the car of the Virgin,
and behind that, the curate under his canopy. Father Damaso gave the
following reason for putting the young women next to the Virgin's
car: "The Virgin likes young women, but not old ones." Of course,
this explanation caused many of the older women to make wry faces,
but that did not change the taste of the Virgin.
San Diego followed Magdalena, but he did not seem to rejoice over the
fact, for he was as precise in his behavior as on the morning when he
followed along behind San Francisco. Six brothers of the Third Order
drew the car. San Diego stopped before the platform and awaited for
the people to salute him.
But it was necessary to await the car which contained the image of the
Virgin. Preceding this car were some people dressed in a fantastic
manner which made children cry and babies scream. In the midst of
that dark mass of habits, hoods and girdles, to the sound of that
monotonous and nasal prayer, one could see, like white jessamine,
like fresh pansies among old rags, twelve young lassies dressed in
white, crowned with flowers, with hair curled and eyes bright as the
necklaces they wore. Seizing hold of two wide blue bands which were
tied to the car of the Virgin, they drew it along, reminding one of
doves drawing the car of Spring.
And now when the images were all attentive, when this child and
that had been slapped sufficiently to make him listen to the verses,
when everybody had his eyes fixed on the half open curtain, at last,
an aaaah! of admiration escaped from the lips of all.
And the sight merited it. A young child appeared with wings, riding
boots, a cordon over its shoulder, a belt and a plumed hat.
"The Senor Alcalde!" cried some one, but the young prodigy recited
a poem in such a manner that the Alcalde was not offended at the
comparison.
The procession then continued. San Juan followed out his bitter career.
As the Virgin passed before the house of Captain Tiago, a heavenly song
greeted her like the words of an archangel. It was a sweet, melodious,
supplicating voice, weeping the Ave Maria of Gounod. The music of
the procession was silenced, the praying ceased, and Father Salvi
himself stopped. The voice trembled and brought tears to the cheeks
of those who heard it. That voice expressed more than a salutation,
a prayer, or a plaint.
From the window, where he was viewing the procession, Ibarra heard
the voice, and melancholy took possession of his heart. He understood
what that soul was suffering and what was expressed in that song. He
was afraid to think of the cause of that grief.
The Governor General found him pensive and sad.