Chương Chương 38 · Chapter XXXVIII

The Procession

At nightfall, when all the lanterns in the windows had been lighted,

for the fourth time the procession started amid the ringing of bells

and the usual explosions of bombs. The Captain-General, who had gone

out on foot in company with his two aides, Capitan Tiago, the alcalde,

the alferez, and Ibarra, preceded by civil-guards and officials who

opened the way and cleared the street, was invited to review the

procession from the house of the gobernadorcillo, in front of which

a platform had been erected where a _loa_ [104] would be recited in

honor of the Blessed Patron.

Ibarra would gladly have renounced the pleasure of hearing this

poetical composition, preferring to watch the procession from Capitan

Tiago's house, where Maria Clara had remained with some of her friends,

but his Excellency wished to hear the _loa_, so he had no recourse

but to console himself with the prospect of seeing her at the theater.

The procession was headed by the silver candelabra borne by three

begloved sacristans, behind whom came the school children in charge

of their teacher, then boys with paper lanterns of varied shapes

and colors placed on the ends of bamboo poles of greater or less

length and decorated according to the caprice of each boy, since

this illumination was furnished by the children of the barrios, who

gladly performed this service, imposed by the _matanda sa nayon_,

[105] each one designing and fashioning his own lantern, adorning it

as his fancy prompted and his finances permitted with a greater or

less number of frills and little streamers, and lighting it with a

piece of candle if he had a friend or relative who was a sacristan,

or if he could buy one of the small red tapers such as the Chinese

burn before their altars.

In the midst of the crowd came and went alguazils, guardians of

justice to take care that the lines were not broken and the people

did not crowd together. For this purpose they availed themselves of

their rods, with blows from which, administered opportunely and with

sufficient force, they endeavored to add to the glory and brilliance

of the procession--all for the edification of souls and the splendor

of religious show. At the same time that the alguazils were thus

distributing free their sanctifying blows, other persons, to console

the recipients, distributed candles and tapers of different sizes,

also free.

"Señor Alcalde," said Ibarra in a low voice, "do they administer those

blows as a punishment for sin or simply because they like to do so?"

"You're right, Señor Ibarra," answered the Captain-General, overhearing

the question. "This barbarous sight is a wonder to all who come here

from other countries. It ought to be forbidden."

Without any apparent reason, the first saint that appeared was St. John

the Baptist. On looking at him it might have been said that the fame

of Our Savior's cousin did not amount to much among the people, for

while it is true that he had the feet and legs of a maiden and the

face of an anchorite, yet he was placed on an old wooden _andas_,

and was hidden by a crowd of children who, armed with candles and

unlighted lanterns, were engaging in mock fights.

"Unfortunate saint!" muttered the Sage Tasio, who was watching the

procession from the street, "it avails you nothing to have been the

forerunner of the Good Tidings or that Jesus bowed before you! Your

great faith and your austerity avail you nothing, nor the fact that

you died for the truth and your convictions, all of which men forget

when they consider nothing more than their own merits. It avails more

to preach badly in the churches than to be the eloquent voice crying

in the desert, this is what the Philippines teaches you! If you had

eaten turkey instead of locusts and had worn garments of silk rather

than hides, if you had joined a Corporation--"

But the old man suspended his apostrophe at the approach

of St. Francis. "Didn't I say so?" he then went on, smiling

sarcastically. "This one rides on a ear, and, good Heavens, what a

car! How many lights and how many glass lanterns! Never did I see

you surrounded by so many luminaries, Giovanni Bernardone! [106]

And what music! Other tunes were heard by your followers after your

death! But, venerable and humble founder, if you were to come back

to life now you would see only degenerate Eliases of Cortona, and

if your followers should recognize you, they would put you in jail,

and perhaps you would share the fate of Cesareus of Spyre."

After the music came a banner on which was pictured the same saint, but

with seven wings, carried by the Tertiary Brethren dressed in _guingón_

habits and praying in high, plaintive voices. Rather inexplicably,

next came St. Mary Magdalene, a beautiful image with abundant hair,

wearing a pañuelo of embroidered piña held by fingers covered with

rings, and a silk gown decorated with gilt spangles. Lights and

incense surrounded her while her glass tears reflected the colors

of the Bengal lights, which, while giving a fantastic appearance to

the procession, also made the saintly sinner weep now green, now red,

now blue tears. The houses did not begin to light up until St. Francis

was passing; St. John the Baptist did not enjoy this honor and passed

hastily by as if ashamed to be the only one dressed in hides in such

a crowd of folk covered with gold and jewels.

"There goes our saint!" exclaimed the daughter of the gobernadorcillo

to her visitors. "I've lent him all my rings, but that's in order to

get to heaven."

The candle-bearers stopped around the platform to listen to the _loa_

and the blessed saints did the same; either they or their bearers

wished to hear the verses. Those who were carrying St. John, tired

of waiting, squatted down on their heels and agreed to set him on

the ground.

"The alguazil may scold!" objected one of them.

"Huh, in the sacristy they leave him in a corner among the cobwebs!"

So St. John, once on the ground, became one of the townsfolk.

As the Magdalene set out the women joined the procession, only that

instead of beginning with the children, as among the men, the old women

came first and the girls filled up the lines to the car of the Virgin,

behind which came the curate under his canopy. This practise they had

from Padre Damaso, who said: "To the Virgin the maidens and not the old

women are pleasing!" This statement had caused wry faces on the part

of many saintly old ladies, but the Virgin did not change her tastes.

San Diego followed the Magdalene but did not seem to be rejoicing

over this fact, since he moved along as repentantly as he had in

the morning when he followed St. Francis. His float was drawn by six

Tertiary Sisters--whether because of some vow or on account of some

sickness, the fact is that they dragged him along, and with zeal. San

Diego stopped in front of the platform and waited to be saluted.

But it was necessary to wait for the float of the Virgin, which was

preceded by persons dressed like phantoms, who frightened the little

children so that there were heard the cries and screams of terrified

babies. Yet in the midst of that dark mass of gowns, hoods, girdles,

and nuns' veils, from which arose a monotonous and snuffling prayer,

there were to be seen, like white jasmines or fresh sampaguitas among

old rags, twelve girls dressed in white, crowned with flowers, their

hair curled, and flashing from their eyes glances as bright as their

necklaces. Like little genii of light who were prisoners of specters

they moved along holding to the wide blue ribbons tied to the Virgin's

car and suggesting the doves that draw the car of Spring.

Now all the images were in attitudes of attention, crowded one against

the other to listen to the verses. Everybody kept his eyes fixed on

the half-drawn curtain until at length a sigh of admiration escaped

from the lips of all. Deservedly so, too, for it was a boy with wings,

riding-boots, sash, belt, and plumed hat.

"It's the alcalde!" cried some one, but this prodigy of creation began

to recite a poem like himself and took no offense at the comparison.

But why record here what he said in Latin, Tagalog, and Spanish, all

in verse--this poor victim of the gobernadorcillo? Our readers have

enjoyed Padre Damaso's sermon of the morning and we do not wish to

spoil them by too many wonders. Besides, the Franciscan might feel

hard toward us if we were to put forward a competitor, and this is

far from being the desire of such peaceful folk as we have the good

fortune to be.

Afterwards, the procession moved on, St. John proceeding along his

vale of tears. When the Virgin passed the house of Capitan Tiago a

heavenly song greeted her with the words of the archangel. It was

a voice tender, melodious, pleading, sighing out the _Ave Maria_

of Gounod to the accompaniment of a piano that prayed with it. The

music of the procession became hushed, the praying ceased, and even

Padre Salvi himself paused. The voice trembled and became plaintive,

expressing more than a salutation--rather a prayer and a protest.

Terror and melancholy settled down upon Ibarra's heart as he listened

to the voice from the window where he stood. He comprehended what

that suffering soul was expressing in a song and yet feared to ask

himself the cause of such sorrow. Gloomy and thoughtful, he turned

to the Captain-General.

"You will join me at the table," the latter said to him. "There we'll

talk about those boys who disappeared."

"Could I be the cause?" murmured the young man, staring without seeing

the Captain-General, whom he was following mechanically.