Chapter Chapter 12 · Chapter XII

All Saints

The one thing perhaps that indisputably distinguishes man from the

brute creation is the attention which he pays to those who have passed

away and, wonder of wonders! this characteristic seems to be more

deeply rooted in proportion to the lack of civilization. Historians

relate that the ancient inhabitants of the Philippines venerated and

deified their ancestors; but now the contrary is true, and the dead

have to entrust themselves to the living. It is also related that

the people of New Guinea preserve the bones of their dead in chests

and maintain communication with them. The greater part of the peoples

of Asia, Africa, and America offer them the finest products of their

kitchens or dishes of what was their favorite food when alive, and

give banquets at which they believe them to be present. The Egyptians

raised up palaces and the Mussulmans built shrines, but the masters

in these things, those who have most clearly read the human heart,

are the people of Dahomey. These negroes know that man is revengeful,

so they consider that nothing will more content the dead than to

sacrifice all his enemies upon his grave, and, as man is curious and

may not know how to entertain himself in the other life, each year

they send him a newsletter under the skin of a beheaded slave.

We ourselves differ from all the rest. In spite of the inscriptions on

the tombs, hardly any one believes that the dead rest, and much less,

that they rest in peace. The most optimistic fancies his forefathers

still roasting in purgatory and, if it turns out that he himself be

not completely damned, he will yet be able to associate with them for

many years. If any one would contradict let him visit the churches and

cemeteries of the country on All Saints' day and he will be convinced.

Now that we are in San Diego let us visit its cemetery, which is

located in the midst of paddy-fields, there toward the west--not a

city, merely a village of the dead, approached by a path dusty in dry

weather and navigable on rainy days. A wooden gate and a fence half

of stone and half of bamboo stakes, appear to separate it from the

abode of the living but not from the curate's goats and some of the

pigs of the neighborhood, who come and go making explorations among the

tombs and enlivening the solitude with their presence. In the center of

this enclosure rises a large wooden cross set on a stone pedestal. The

storms have doubled over the tin plate for the inscription INRI, and

the rains have effaced the letters. At the foot of the cross, as on

the real Golgotha, is a confused heap of skulls and bones which the

indifferent grave-digger has thrown from the graves he digs, and there

they will probably await, not the resurrection of the dead, but the

coming of the animals to defile them. Round about may be noted signs

of recent excavations; here the earth is sunken, there it forms a low

mound. There grow in all their luxuriance the _tarambulo_ to prick

the feet with its spiny berries and the _pandakaki_ to add its odor

to that of the cemetery, as if the place did not have smells enough

already. Yet the ground is sprinkled with a few little flowers which,

like those skulls, are known only to their Creator; their petals wear

a pale smile and their fragrance is the fragrance of the tombs. The

grass and creepers fill up the corners or climb over the walls and

niches to cover and beautify the naked ugliness and in places even

penetrate into the fissures made by the earthquakes, so as to hide

from sight the revered hollowness of the sepulcher.

At the time we enter, the people have driven the animals away, with the

single exception of some old hog, an animal that is hard to convince,

who shows his small eyes and pulling back his head from a great gap

in the fence, sticks up his snout and seems to say to a woman praying

near, "Don't eat it all, leave something for me, won't you?"

Two men are digging a grave near one of the tottering walls. One

of them, the grave-digger, works with indifference, throwing about

bones as a gardener does stones and dry branches, while the other,

more intent on his work, is perspiring, smoking, and spitting at

every moment.

"Listen," says the latter in Tagalog, "wouldn't it be better for us

to dig in some other place? This is too recent."

"One grave is as recent as another."

"I can't stand it any longer! That bone you're just cut in two has

blood oozing from it--and those hairs?"

"But how sensitive you are!" was the other's reproach. "Just as if

you were a town clerk! If, like myself, you had dug up a corpse of

twenty days, on a dark and rainy night--! My lantern went out--"

His companion shuddered.

"The coffin burst open, the corpse fell half-way out, it stunk--and

supposing you had to carry it--the rain wet us both--"

"Ugh! And why did you dig it up?"

The grave-digger looked at him in surprise. "Why? How do I know? I

was ordered to do so."

"Who ordered you?"

The grave-digger stepped backward and looked his companion over from

head to foot. "Man, you're like a Spaniard, for afterwards a Spaniard

asked me the same questions, but in secret. So I'm going to answer

you as I answered the Spaniard: the fat curate ordered me to do so."

"Ah! And what did you do with the corpse afterwards?" further

questioned the sensitive one.

"The devil! If I didn't know you and was not sure that you are a _man_

I would say that you were certainly a Spaniard of the Civil Guard,

since you ask questions just as he did. Well, the fat curate ordered

me to bury it in the Chinamen's cemetery, but the coffin was heavy

and the Chinese cemetery far away--"

"No, no! I'm not going to dig any more!" the other interrupted in

horror as he threw away his spade and jumped out of the hole. "I've cut

a skull in two and I'm afraid that it won't let me sleep tonight." The

old grave-digger laughed to see how the chicken-hearted fellow left,

crossing himself.

The cemetery was filling up with men and women dressed in

mourning. Some sought a grave for a time, disputing among themselves

the while, and as if they were unable to agree, they scattered

about, each kneeling where he thought best. Others, who had niches

for their deceased relatives, lighted candles and fell to praying

devoutly. Exaggerated or suppressed sighs and sobs were heard amid

the hum of prayers, _orapreo, orapreiss, requiem-aeternams_, that

arose from all sides.

A little old man with bright eyes entered bareheaded. Upon seeing

him many laughed, and some women knitted their eyebrows. The old man

did not seem to pay any attention to these demonstrations as he went

toward a pile of skulls and knelt to look earnestly for something

among the bones. Then he carefully removed the skulls one by one, but

apparently without finding what he sought, for he wrinkled his brow,

nodded his head from side to side, looked all about him, and finally

rose and approached the grave-digger, who raised his head when the

old man spoke to him.

"Do you know where there is a beautiful skull, white as the meat of a

coconut, with a complete set of teeth, which I had there at the foot

of the cross under those leaves?"

The grave-digger shrugged his shoulders.

"Look!" added the old man, showing a silver coin, "I have only this,

but I'll give it to you if you find the skull for me."

The gleam of the silver caused the grave-digger to consider, and

staring toward the heap of bones he said, "Isn't it there? No? Then

I don't know where it is."

"Don't you know? When those who owe me pay me, I'll give you more,"

continued the old man. "It was the skull of my wife, so if you find

it for me--"

"Isn't it there? Then I don't know! But if you wish, I can give

you another."

"You're like the grave you're digging," apostrophized the old man

nervously. "You don't know the value of what you lose. For whom is

that grave?"

"How should I know?" replied the other in bad humor.

"For a corpse!"

"Like the grave, like the grave!" repeated the old man with a dry

smile. "You don't know what you throw away nor what you receive! Dig,

dig on!" And he turned away in the direction of the gate.

Meanwhile, the grave-digger had completed his task, attested by the

two mounds of fresh red earth at the sides of the grave. He took some

buyo from his salakot and began to chew it while he stared stupidly

at what was going on around him.