General MacArthur’s reports concerning the war in the Philippines during the period of his command are succinct and luminous. He makes it perfectly clear that the original resistance offered by the insurgent armies in the field after the arrival of the overwhelmingly ample reinforcements sent out from this country in the fall of 1899, was little more than a mere flash in the pan, compared with the well-planned scheme of resistance which followed the dispersion of those armies to the several provinces which had furnished them to the cause, and Aguinaldo’s simultaneous flight into the mountains “with his government concealed about his person,” as Senator Lodge exultantly described that incident in his speech of April, 1900, in defence of the Administration’s Philippine policy. Speaking of this period, General MacArthur says:

In his report covering the period from May 5th, to October 1, 1900, General MacArthur says of the policy of resistance above outlined:

In this same connection the report includes a copy of the original order of the insurgent government which was the corner stone of the guerrilla policy, and states that “systemized regulations” for its effective prosecution throughout the archipelago had been compiled and published by the Filipino junta, or revolutionary committee at Madrid, and distributed among the insurgent forces. The report also appends a copy of the “Army Regulations” under which the insurgent forces were to conduct the guerrilla warfare. It also describes in detail the system of warfare prescribed under these regulations, and states that as a result of the measures which he, General MacArthur, took to combat that warfare “the 53 stations of American troops occupied in the archipelago on November 1, 1899, had on September 1, 1900, expanded to 413,” and that during this period, the casualties to our troops were 268 killed, 750 wounded, 55 captured, and to the insurgents, so far as our records showed, 3227 killed, 694 wounded, and 2864 captured. Says he:

It was not until July 4, 1902, that President Roosevelt officially declared, by his amnesty proclamation of that date that the insurrection in the Philippines was at last ended. It was by no means beaten to a frazzle, as we shall later see. But of course, knowing the impatience of a large portion of the American people with a situation about which there was a wide-spread notion that much remained undisclosed, Mr. Roosevelt would have issued such a proclamation earlier, had the facts seemed to him to so authorize. General MacArthur’s relentless “never ceasing patrols, explorations,” etc., continued straight on through the presidential campaign of 1900 side by side in point of time with the roseate Taft cablegrams of the same period, and long thereafter—how long will be later indicated. Says General MacArthur, in his report for 1901:

General MacArthur then goes on to tell how, as part of this programme, the insurgent authorities,

This is what Judge Taft afterwards described as “a conspiracy of murder, a Mafia on a very large scale”,29 the characterization being made in support of his theory that “the great majority of the people” with whom we were then at war would welcome our rule if allowed to follow their real preferences, and that they were being cruelly coerced to fight for the independence of their country. General MacArthur’s view, however, did not support this theory. His report deals with this branch of the subject thus:

Later on, when we came to understand the Filipinos better, this summary method of dealing with the faint-hearted lost much of its initial horrifying force, and the failure of such to appeal to us for protection lost much of its strangeness. In the first place, nobody loves a traitor. Even those to whom he claims to have betrayed his countrymen do not trust him implicitly. Again, Latin countries never assume that before a man is punished for alleged crime he has been confronted with the witnesses against him. Such testimony is, under their jurisprudence, frequently received in his absence. The legal department of General MacArthur’s office once got hold of a captured insurgent paper subscribed with the autograph of Juan Cailles, one of their best generals. It directed that a named Filipino residing in a certain town garrisoned by American troops be executed—we of course, would call it “assassinated”—at a certain hour on a certain day in a public street of the town, and that the soldier or soldiers performing the “execution” should declare to the bystanders, if any, in so doing, that it was done because the man was a traitor, a friend of the Americans. We kept this paper, intending to hang Juan whenever he should be captured. He held out a long time, and finally surrendered unconditionally—but he proved such an elegant fellow, game as a pebble, courteous as Chesterfield, and immensely popular with his people, that it was decided he could be of more service as a live governor of a province than he could as a dead general,30 so he was appointed a provincial governor by Governor Taft, and made a splendid official.

Another reason why Filipinos suspected, during the insurrection, by the more obstinate and stout-hearted of their compatriots who held out longer in the struggle for independence, of weakening toward the cause of their country, in other words, suspected of what might be called “Copperhead” or “Tory” tendencies, would not appeal to us for protection, is strikingly presented in General MacArthur’s report for 1901. He says they naturally had “grave doubt as to the wisdom” of siding with us, “as the United States had made no formal announcement of an inflexible purpose to hold the archipelago and afford protection to pro-Americans.”31

The one great thing that has crippled progress in the Philippines from the beginning of the American occupation down to date is the uncertainty as to what our policy for the future is to be, the lack of some, “formal announcement of an inflexible purpose.” And of course I mean, as General MacArthur meant, by “formal” announcement, an authoritative declaration by the law-making power of the government. If Congress should formally declare that it is the purpose of this government to hold the Philippines permanently, American and other capital would at once go there in abundance and the place would “blossom like a rose.” If, on the other hand, Congress should formally declare that it is the purpose of this government to give the Filipinos their independence as soon as a stable native government can be set up, thus holding out to the present generation the prospect of living to see the independence of their country, the place would also quickly blossom as aforesaid, through the generous ardor of native love of country. In either event, everybody out there would know where he is “at.” At present all is uncertainty, both with the resident members of the dominant alien race, and with those over whom we are ruling.

It took over 120,000 American troops, first and last, to put down the struggle of the Filipinos for independence.32 The war began February 4, 1899, and the last public official announcement that it was ended was on July 4, 1902.33 Of course this does not imply that every province was at all times during that period a theatre of actual war. Putting down the insurrection was something like putting out a fire in a field of dry grass. At first the trouble was general. Gradually it diminished toward the end. But for a while, no sooner was it quenched in one province than it would break out in another. How the Filipinos were able to prolong the struggle as long as they did against such apparently overwhelming odds is most interestingly explained by General MacArthur in his report for 1900. After describing the method he followed of establishing native municipal governments in territory as conquered, he says, with a patient stateliness that is almost humorous:

To contrast a cold, hard military fact involving the lives of American soldiers with a lot of political nonsense intended for consumption in the United States during a presidential election, the next paragraph is particularly interesting in the light of the cotemporaneous Taft view:36

Then follows this bit of grim humor:

in other words, to stick to their own kith and kin. He had in a previous paragraph used that very expression thus: “The people seem to be actuated by the idea that in politics or war men are never nearer right then when going with their own kith and kin.”

In all the foregoing, General MacArthur was not simply trying to score a point against Judge Taft, though his resentment of the effort of the Taft Commission of 1900 to mix politics with war in the presidential year was quite as decided, and quite as well known in the islands at the time, as was General Otis’s similar attitude toward the Schurman Commission of the previous year.38 He is simply laying before the War Department, as a soldier, the familiar facts of a situation which he had been dealing with for two years past, as well known to the 70,000 officers and men under his command as to himself. And as the details into which he goes are simply prefatory to an account of the remedy he applied to the situation, that remedy must now claim our attention. The remedy General MacArthur finally applied was a proclamation, explaining to the Filipino people—“to all classes throughout the archipelago,” it read, and especially to the leaders in the field, many of whose captured comrades-in-arms he had now become thoroughly acquainted with—the severities sanctioned by the laws of civilized nations under such circumstances, and the reasons therefor; and, further, serving them with notice that thenceforward he proposed to enforce those laws with full rigor.39

The eminent lawyers of the Taft Commission were too busy about that time acquainting themselves with the situation through natives not in arms, to attach much importance to General MacArthur’s proclamation, but the Eighth Army Corps always believed that that proclamation, and the army’s work under it, was the main factor in making the civil government at all possible by the date it was set up, July 4, 1901. The issuance of this document was not only a wise military move, but a subtle stroke of statesmanship as well. It assumed that the Filipino people were a civilized people, an assumption never indulged by Spain during the whole of her rule, but always freely admitted by General MacArthur in all his dealings with their leading men to be a fact. It therefore appealed to their amour propre, and to the noblesse oblige of many of the most obstinate and trusted fighting leaders. The writer was, at the date of the proclamation under consideration, on duty at General MacArthur’s headquarters, as assistant to Colonel Crowder, his judge advocate, now Judge Advocate General of the United States Army, and prepared the first rough, tentative suggestions for the final draft of it, accompanying such suggestions with a memorandum showing the course taken by Wellington in France in 1815, and by Bismarck’s generals at the close of the Franco-Prussian War, as well as that followed under General Order No. 100, 1863, for the government of the armies of the United States in the field. Having then entertained the opinion that that proclamation, though drastic, was wise and right under the facts of the situation which confronted us, and having nowise changed that opinion since, it may be well for the writer of this book to explain his reasons for that opinion. This must be done wholly without reference to “the authorities,” for neither at the bar of public opinion, nor at the bar of final judgment, do “the authorities” count for much. In so doing, however, we must start with the assumption that it was a case of American military occupation of hostile territory, notwithstanding that Judge Taft began soon after his arrival in the islands in the June previous to the December now referred to, to cable home impressions which, if correct, amounted to a denial that the great body of the people were hostile. Military occupation is a fact which admits of no debate, and the necessity of making your country’s flag respected is always fully and keenly recognized as the one supreme consideration by every good American except one who, obsessed with the idea that kindness will cure the desire of a people for independence, proceeds to act on that idea in the midst of a war for independence.

Under the laws of war the commanding general of the occupying force owes protection, both of life and property, to all persons residing within the territory occupied. The object of General MacArthur’s proclamation was to put a stop to such “executions,” or assassinations, as that perpetrated by Juan Cailles, mentioned above, and to separate the insurgents in the field from their main reliance, the towns. The latter end of a bloody war is no time for a discussion of the causes of the war between victor and vanquished. Nor is it any time to believe the representative of the enemy who tells you that most of him is really in sympathy with you and merely coerced. Your duty is to stop the war. You and your enemy having had a difference, and having referred it to the arbitrament of war, which is, unfortunately, at present the only human jurisdiction having power to enforce decisions concerning such differences, if you win, and your enemy refuses to abide the decision, he is simply, as it were in contempt of court, and, in the scheme of things, as at present ordered, deserves punishment as an enemy to the general peace. To state the ethics of the matter juridically, “there should be an end of litigation”—somewhere.

I do not believe in the doctrine that might makes right, and I cherish the high hope that this human family of ours will survive to see war superseded, as the ultimate arbiter, by something more like heaven and less like hell. But in the Philippines in 1900 it was a situation, not a theory, that confronted us, and, as far as my consciously fallible thinking apparatus lights the way which then lay before us, that way led to a shrine whereon was written “A life for a life.” This is no mere academic discussion. With me it is a tremendously practical one. In the gravest possible acceptation of the term it is awe-fully so. If I am wrong, every execution I approved by memorandum review furnished Colonel Crowder and General MacArthur, of military commission findings out there was wrong, and so were a number of the executions I ordered as a judge appointed by Governor Taft under a government which, though nominally a civil government, was no more “civil” in so far as that term implies absence of necessity for the presence of military force, than other governments immediately following conquest usually are. The propriety of the imposition of capital punishment by the constituted authorities of a nation as part of a set policy to make its sovereignty respected, is wholly independent of whether you call your colonial government a civil or a military one. So that in justifying General MacArthur I am also justifying Governor Taft, and as it was on the recommendation of the former that the latter appointed me to the Bench, we are certainly all three in the same boat in the matter of the capital punishments under consideration. And while the company you were in on earth in a given transaction, however distinguished that company, is not going to help you with the Recording Angel,40 still, it is some comfort to know that wiser and abler men than yourself approved a course of imposing capital punishments to which you were a party, such punishments having been inflicted as part of a policy whose subsequent evolution revealed it to you as fundamentally wrong. And this reflection is quite relevant in the present connection to the question whether the government of Benevolent Assimilation we have maintained over the Filipinos for the last fourteen years is one which was originally imposed by force against their will, or whether it was ever welcomed by them or any considerable fraction of them.

That the MacArthur proclamation of December 20, 1900, concerning the laws of war, was at the time a military necessity, is as perfectly clear to me now as it was then. And yet it may well give the thoughtful and patriotic American pause. It is sometimes difficult to understand why men are so often entirely willing to go on fighting and dying in a cause they must know to be hopeless. The famous passage of Edmund Burke’s speech on “Conciliation with America,”

sounds well to us, but from the standpoint of a conqueror, there is a good deal of wind-jamming to it, after all. It was the language of a man who knew nothing of the horrors of war by actual experience, or of what hell it slowly becomes to everybody concerned after most of the high officials of the vanquished government have been captured and are sleeping on dry, warm beds, eating good wholesome food, and smoking good cigars, in comfortable custody, while the vanquished army, no longer strong enough to come out in the open and fight, is relegated to ambuscades and other tactics equally akin to the methods of the assassin. The law of nations in this regard is an expression of the views of successive generations of civilized and enlightened men of all nations whose profession was war—men familiar with the horrors inevitably incident to it and anxious to mitigate them as far as possible. That law represents the common consensus of Christendom resulting from that experience. It recognizes that after resistance becomes utterly hopeless, it becomes a crime against society and the general peace, and this is wholly independent of the merits or demerits of the questions involved in the war. In other words, the greatest good of the greatest number cries aloud that the war must stop. The cold, hard fact is that the great majority of the men who hold out longest are, usually, either single men having no one dependent on them, or nothing to lose, or both, or else they are men more or less indifferent to the ties of family affection, and callous to the suffering fruitlessly entailed upon innocent noncombatants by the various and sundry horrors of war, such as decimation of the plough animals of the country due to their running at large without caretakers or forage; resultant untilled fields and scant food; pestilence and famine consequent upon insufficient nourishment; arson, robbery, rape, and murder inevitably committed in such times by sorry scamps and ruffians claiming to be patriots but yielding no allegiance to any responsible head; and so on, ad infinitum.

General MacArthur’s proclamation of December 20, 1900, served notice on the leaders of a hopeless cause that assassinations, such as that ordered by Juan Cailles, above mentioned, must stop; that the universal practice of the townfolk, of sending money, supplies, and information concerning our movements to the enemy in the field, must stop; that participating in hostilities intermittently, in citizen garb, followed by return to home and avocation when too hard pressed, must stop; in short that the war must stop. Yet the proclamation explained in so firm and kindly a way why the penalties it promised were only reasonable under the circumstances, that “as an educational document the effect was immediate and far-reaching,”41 to quote from an opinion expressed by its author in the body of it, an opinion entirely consistent with modesty and fully justified by the facts. General MacArthur also goes on to say of his unrelenting and rigid enforcement of the terms of this proclamation that the results “preclude all possibility of doubt * * * that the effective pacification of the archipelago commenced December 20, 1900”—its date. It is a part of the history of those times, familiar to all who are familiar with them, that the Taft Civil Commission thought its assurances of the benevolent intentions of our government were what made the civil government possible by midsummer, 1901. But whatever the Filipinos may think of us at present, now that they understand us better, certainly in 1900–01, in view of the events of the preceding two or three years, which formed the basis of the only acquaintance they then had with us, and in view of the fact that their experience for the preceding two or three hundred years had made force the only effective governmental argument with them, and governmental promises a mere mockery, and in view of the fact that the “never-ceasing patrols, explorations, escorts, outposts,” etc., of General MacArthur’s 70,000 men were relentlessly kept up during the six months immediately following the proclamation and in aid of it, it at once becomes obvious how infinitesimal a fraction of the final partial pacification which made the civil government possible, the Taft assurances to the Filipinos as to our intentions must have been. These matters are of prime importance to any honest effort toward a clear understanding of present conditions, because far and away the greatest wrong which we, in our genuinely benevolent misinformation, have done the Filipinos, not even excepting the tariff legislation perpetrated upon them by Congress, lies in the insufferably hypocritical pretence that they ever consented to our rule, or that they consent to it now—a pretence conceived in 1898 by Trade Expansion, to beguile a nation the breath of whose own life is political liberty based on consent of the governed, into a career of conquest, but not even countenanced since by those who believe the Government should go into the politico-missionary business, after the manner of Spain in the sixteenth century.

Having now exhaustively examined the differences of opinion between Judge Taft and General MacArthur, when the former set to work, in the summer of 1900, to get a civil government started by the date of expiration of the term of enlistment of the volunteer army (June 30, 1901), let us follow the facts of the situation up to the date last named, or, which is practically the same thing, up to the inauguration of Judge Taft as Civil Governor of the islands on July 4, 1901, pausing, in passing, for such reflections as may force themselves upon us as pertinent to the Philippine problem of to-day.

On September 19, 1900, General MacArthur wired Secretary of War Root—General Corbin, the Adjutant-General of the Army, to be exact, but it is the same thing—describing what he calls “considerable activity” throughout Luzon, ominously stating that General Young (up in the Ilocano country, into which we followed him and his cavalry in Chapter XII, ante) “has called so emphatically for more force,” that he, MacArthur, feels grave concern; adding that Luzon north of the Pasig is “very much disturbed,” and that south of the Pasig the same conditions prevail.42

October 26th, General MacArthur cables outlining a plan for a great campaign on comprehensive lines, stating that “Full development of this scheme requires about four months and all troops now in the islands,” and deprecating any move on Mr. Root’s part to reduce his force of 70,000 men by starting any of the volunteers homeward before it should be absolutely necessary.43 October 28th, General MacArthur wires, “Shall push everything with great vigor,” adding “Expect to have everything in full operation November 15th.”44 November 5th, as if to reassure General MacArthur that he and the General understand each other and that the Taft cotemporaneous nonsense is not going to be allowed to interfere with more serious business, Secretary Root, through the Adjutant-General, sends this cable message:

So that while the American people were being pacified with the Taft cablegrams to Secretary Root that the Filipino people wanted peace, General MacArthur, under Mr. Root’s direction, was simultaneously proceeding to make them want it with the customary argument used to settle irreconcilable differences between nations—powder and lead. Mr. Root was all the time in constant communication with both, but he gave out only the Taft optimism to the public, and withheld the actual facts within his knowledge. December 25th, General MacArthur wires Secretary Root, “Expectations based on result of election have not been realized.” “Progress,” he says, is “very slow.”46

And now I come to one of the most important things that all my researches into the official records of our government concerning the Philippine Islands have developed. On December 28, 1900, General MacArthur reports by cable the contents of some important insurgent papers captured in Cavite Province about that time. The Filipinos have a great way of reducing to writing, or making minutes of, whatever occurs at any important conference. This habit they did not abandon in the field. The papers in question belonged to General Trias, the Lieutenant-General commanding all the insurgent armies in the field, and, next to Aguinaldo, the highest official connected with the revolutionary government. One of these papers, according to General MacArthur’s despatch of December 28th, purported to be the minutes of a certain meeting had October 11th previous, between General Trias and the Japanese Consul at Manila. As to whether or not the paper was really authentic, General MacArthur says: “I accept it as such without hesitation.” Communicating the contents of the paper he says:

I consider these negotiations of the Japanese Government with the Philippine insurgents important to be related here because they have never been generally known, for the good reason, of course, that the President of the United States cannot take the public into his confidence about such grave and delicate matters when they occur. The incident is not “ancient history” relatively to present-day problems, for the following reasons:

(1) Because it is credibly reported and currently believed in the United States that in Japan, during the cruise of our battleship fleet around the world in 1907, one of the reception committee of Japanese officers who welcomed our officers was recognized by one of the latter as having been, not a great while before that, a servant aboard an American battleship.

(2) Because of the following incident, related to me, in 1911, without the slightest injunction of secrecy, by the Director of Public Health of the Philippine Islands, then on a visit to the United States. Shortly before the Director’s said visit home, while he was out in one of the provinces, there was brought to his attention a Filipino with a broken arm. There was a Japanese doctor in the town, at least a Japanese who had a sign out as a doctor. The Director carried the sufferer to the “doctor,” not being a surgeon himself. The “doctor” turned out to be a civil engineer, who had been making maps and plans of fortifications. The plans were found in his possession.

(3) Because from one of the islands through which the northern line of the Treaty of Paris runs, situated only a pleasant morning’s journey in a launch due north of Aparri, the northernmost town of Luzon, you can see, on a clear day, with a good field-glass, the southern end of Formosa, some 60 or 70 miles away. Japan can land an army on American soil at Aparri any time she wants to, overnight—an army several times that of the total American force now in the Philippines,48 or likely ever to be there. From Aparri it is 70 miles up the river to Tueguegarao, 40 more to Iligan, and 90 more, all fairly good marching, to Bayombong, in Nueva Viscaya (total distance, Aparri to Bayombong, 200 miles) the province which lies in the heart of the watershed of Central Luzon. I know what I am talking about, because that region was the first judicial district I presided over, and many a hard journey I have had over it, circuit riding, on a scrubby pony. Part of it I have been through in the company of President Taft. It thus appears that from Aparri to Bayombong there would be but a week or ten days of unresisted marching to reach the watershed region, Nueva Viscaya. The Japanese soldier’s ration is mainly rice, so that he can carry more days’ travel rations than almost any other soldier in the world. Never fear about their making the journey inside of a week or ten days, once they start. To descend from the watershed aforesaid, over the Caranglan Pass, and down the valley of the Rio Grande de Pampanga to Manila, another three or four days would be all that would be needed. It would be a Japanese picnic. Fortifying Corregidor Island, at the entrance to Manila Bay, which is about all the serious scheme of defence against a foreign foe we have out there, is quite like the reliance of the Spaniards on Morro Castle, at the mouth of the harbor of Santiago de Cuba, against our landing at Guantanamo. Our garrison in the Philippines, all told, is but a handful. Aparri is an absolutely unfortified seaport, at which the Japanese could land an army overnight from the southern end of Formosa. There are no military fortifications whatsoever to stay the advance of an invading army from Aparri down the Cagayan Valley, and thence over the watershed of Nueva Viscaya Province, through the Caranglan Pass, and down the valley of the Pampanga River to Manila. So that to-day Japan can take Manila inside of two weeks any time she wants to. That is why I object to the President’s “jollying” the situation along as best he can, without taking the American people into his confidence. Any army officer at our War College will inform any member of the House or Senate on inquiry, that Japan can take the Philippines any time she wants to. President Taft and the Mikado may keep on exchanging the most cordial cablegrams imaginable, but the map-making goes on just the same. And, earnest and sincere as both the President and the Emperor undoubtedly are in their desire to preserve the general peace, who is going to restrain Hobson and Hearst, and several of Japan’s public men equally distinguished and equally inflammatory? Heads of nations cannot restrain gusts of popular passion. The Pacific Coast is not so friendly to Japan as the rest of our country, and as between Japan and the Pacific Coast, we are pretty apt to stand by the latter without inquiring with meticulous nicety into any differences that may arise.

The reason I said in the chapter before this one that Mr. Root is a dangerous man to Republican institutions was because he is of the type who are constantly finding situations which they consider it best for the people not to know about. After the McKinley election of 1900 was safely “put over,” Mr. Root, as Secretary of War, let Judge Taft go ahead and ride his dove-of-peace hobby-horse in the Philippines, duly repeating to the American people all the cheery Taft cluckings to said horse, at a time when the real situation is indicated by such grim correspondence as the following cablegram dated January 29, 1901:

But let us turn from this sorry spectacle of Mr. Root pulling the wool over the eyes of his countrymen to make them believe the Filipinos were not quite so unconsenting as they seemed to be, and again look at the sheer splendor of American military ability to get anything done the Government wants done. I refer to the capture of Aguinaldo.

One of the most eminent lawyers in this country once said to me, “I would not let that man Funston enter my house.” I tried to enlighten him, but as I happened to be a guest in his house at the time, which entitled him to exemption from light if he insisted—which he did—General Funston and he have continued to miss what might have been a real pleasure to them both. The following is, as briefly as I can dispose of it, the story of the capture of Aguinaldo on March 23, 1901.

Ever since Aguinaldo had escaped through our lines in November, 1899, his capture had been the one great consummation most devoutly wished. It has already been shown how busy with the war the army was all the time Judge Taft was gayly jogging away astride of his peace hobby about the insurrection being really quite regretted and over. However, in the favorite remark with which he used to wave the insurrection into thin air, to the effect that it was now merely “a Mafia on a large scale,” there was one element of truth. The general feeling of the people, both educated and uneducated, was such as to countenance the attitude of the leaders that pro-American tendencies were treason. Any leader who surrendered of course was thereafter an object of at least some suspicion to his fellow-countrymen, however assiduous his subsequent double-dealing. As long as Aguinaldo remained out, this state of affairs was sure to continue indefinitely, possibly for years to come. If captured, he would probably himself give up the struggle, and use his influence with the rest to do likewise. Therefore, in the spring of 1901, each and every one of General MacArthur’s 70,000 men was, and had been since 1899, on the qui vive to make his own personal fortunes secure for life, and gain lasting military distinction, by taking any sort of chances to capture Aguinaldo. On February 8, 1901, an officer of General Funston’s district, the Fourth, in central Luzon, intercepted a messenger bearing despatches from Aguinaldo to one of his generals of that region, directing the general (Lacuna) to send some reinforcements to him, Aguinaldo. General Funston’s headquarters were then at San Fernando, in the province of Pampanga—organized as a “civil” government province by act of the Taft Commission just five days later.50 Through these despatches and their bearer, General Funston ascertained the hiding-place of the insurgent chieftain to be at a place called Palanan, in the mountains of Isabela Province, in northeastern Luzon, near the Pacific Coast. Early in the war we had availed ourselves of a certain tribe, or clan, known as the Maccabebes, who look nowise different from all other Filipinos, but who had, under the Spanish government, by reason of long-standing feuds with their more rebellious neighbors, come to be absolutely loyal to the Spanish authorities. When we came they had transferred that loyalty to us, and had now become a recognized and valuable part of our military force. So it occurred to General Funston; “Why not personate the reinforcements called for, the American officers to command the expedition assuming the rôle of captured American prisoners?” The plan was submitted to General MacArthur and adopted. A picked company of Maccabebes was selected, consisting of about eighty men, and General Funston decided to go himself, taking with him on the perilous expedition four young officers of proven mettle: Captain Harry W. Newton, 34th Infantry, U. S. Volunteers, now a captain of the Coast Artillery; Captain R. T. Hazzard, 11th Volunteer Cavalry; Lieutenant O. P. M. Hazzard, his brother, of the same regiment, the latter now an officer of the regular army, and Lieutenant Mitchell, “my efficient aid.”51 March 6, 1901, the U.S.S. Vicksburg slipped quietly out of Manila Bay, bearing the participants in the desperate enterprise—as desperate an undertaking as the heart and brain of a soldier ever carried to a successful conclusion. General Thomas H. Barry wrote Secretary of War Root, after they left, telling of their departure, and stating that he did not much expect ever to see them again. The chances were ten to one that the eighty men would meet five or ten times their number, and, as they were to masquerade as troops of the enemy, they could not complain, under the recognized laws of war as to spies, at being summarily shot if captured alive. And the whole Filipino people were a secret service ready to warn Aguinaldo, should the carefully concocted ruse be discovered anywhere along the journey. They went down to the southern end of Luzon, and through the San Bernardino Straits into the Pacific Ocean, and thence up the east coast of Luzon to Casiguran Bay, about 100 miles south of Palanan, landing at Casiguran Bay, March 14th. The “little Macks,” as General Funston calls the Maccabebes, were made to discard their dapper American uniforms after they got aboard the ship, and don instead a lot of nondescript clothing gathered by the military authorities at Manila before the Vicksburg sailed, so as to resemble the average insurgent command. Not a man of them had been told of the nature of the expedition before sailing. This was not for fear of treachery, but lest some one of the faithful “Macks” should get his tongue loosed by hospitality before departing. Also, their Krag-Jorgensen regulation rifles were taken from them, and a miscellaneous assortment of old Springfields, Mausers, etc., given them instead, to complete the deception. An ex-insurgent officer, well known to Aguinaldo, but now in General Funston’s employ, was to play the rôle of commanding officer of the “reinforcements.” To read General Funston’s account of this expedition is a more convincing rebuttal of the contemporaneous Taft denials of Filipino hostility and of the unanimity of the feeling of the people against us, than a thousand quotations from official documents could ever be. It was necessary to land more than 100 miles south of Aguinaldo’s hiding-place, lest the smoke of the approaching vessel should be sighted from a distance, and some peasant or lookout give the alarm. Accordingly, they landed at Casiguran Bay by night, with the ship’s lights screened, the Vicksburg at once departing out of sight of land, and agreeing to meet them off Palanan, their destination, on March 25th, eleven days later. From the beginning they vigilantly and consummately played the rôle planned, the “Macks” having been drilled on the way up, each and all, in the story they were to tell at the first village near Casiguran Bay, and everywhere thereafter, to the effect that they had come across country, and en route had met ten American soldiers out map-making, and had killed two, wounded three, and captured five. They were to point to General Funston and the four other Americans in corroboration of their story. Speaking of himself and his four fellow “prisoners,” General Funston says, “We were a pretty scrubby looking lot of privates.” The villagers received the patriot forces, thus flushed with triumph, in an appropriate manner, and supplied them with rations and guides for the rest of their 100-mile journey to the headquarters of the “dictator.” General Funston is even at pains to say for the village officials that they were very humane and courteous to himself and the other four American “prisoners.” They reached Palanan Bay, eight miles from Palanan, on March 22d. Here Hilario Tal Placido, the ex-insurgent officer whose rôle in the present thrilling drama was that of “commanding officer” of the expedition, sent a note to Aguinaldo, stating that he had halted his command for a rest at the beach preparatory to marching inland and reporting to the Honorable Presidente, that they were very much exhausted, and much in need of food, and please to send him some. Of course that was the natural card to play to put Aguinaldo off his guard. The food came, and the bearers returned and casually reported to the Honorable Presidente that his honorable reinforcements would soon be along, much to the honorable joy—to make the thing a little Japanesque—of the president of the honorable republic. This incident has been since made the occasion of some criticism—that it was contrary to decency to accept Aguinaldo’s food and then attack him afterwards. General Funston very properly replies in effect that the case would have been very different had he thrown himself on Aguinaldo’s mercy, taken his food, and used treachery afterwards, but that his conduct was entirely correct, under the code of war, for the reason that should he and his command be captured while personating enemy’s forces, Aguinaldo would have had a perfect right, under the rules of the game, to shoot them all as spies. He adds rather savagely, concerning “certain ladylike persons in the United States” who have censured his course in the matter, that he “would be very much interested in seeing the results of a surgical operation performed on the skull of a man who cannot readily see the radical difference between the two propositions,” and that he doubts if a good quality of calf brains would be revealed by the operation.

At all events, the expedition was very much refreshed by the food and highly delighted at the proof, contained in the sending of it, that Aguinaldo did not suspect a ruse. But now came one of the many emergencies which had to be met by quick wit in the course of that memorable adventure. Aguinaldo sent word to leave the “prisoners” under a guard in one of the huts by the sea-shore, where there was one of the Aguinaldo retainers in charge, an old Tagalo. After a hurried, whispered conversation, “prisoner” Funston instructed “Commanding Officer” Placido to go ahead with his main column and then a little later send back a forged written order purporting to be from Aguinaldo, for the “prisoners” to come on also. This was shown to the old Tagalo, thus disarming suspicion on his part. But now came the “closest shave” they had. The column met a detachment from Aguinaldo’s headquarters sent down with instructions to relieve the necessarily worn-out guard of the newly arrived “re-inforcements” that were supposed to be guarding the five prisoners at the beach, and let said guard come on up to headquarters with the rest of the “re-inforcements,” the idea being to still leave the prisoners at the beach so they would not learn definitely as to the Aguinaldo whereabouts. Detaining the officer commanding this detachment for a moment or so on some pretext, the “Commanding Officer” of the “re-inforcements” whispered to a Maccabebe corporal to run back and tell General Funston and the rest of the “prisoners” to jump in the bushes and hide. This they did, lying within thirty feet of the detachment, as it passed them en route for the beach. Of course a fight would have meant considerable firing, and the quarry might hear it, take fright, and escape. Finally they reached Palanan, the “prisoners” quite far in the rear. Placido got safely into Aguinaldo’s presence, followed at a short distance by the main body of his Maccabebes. Aguinaldo’s life-guard of some fifty men, neatly uniformed, presented arms as Placido entered the insurgent headquarters building, and thereafter waited at attention outside. Then the worthy Placido entertained the honorable Presidente with a few cock-and-bull stories about the march across country, etc., made obediently to the President’s order, keeping a weather eye out of the window all the time. As soon as the Maccabebes had come up and formed facing the Aguinaldo life-guard, Placido went to the window and ordered them to open fire. This they did, killing two of the insurgents and wounding their commanding officer. The rest fled, panic-stricken, by reason of the surprise. Then Placido, a very stout individual, grabbed Aguinaldo, who only weighs about 115 pounds, threw him down, and sat on him, until General Funston, the Hazzards, Mitchell, and Newton arrived. The orders were iron-clad that under no circumstances, if it could be avoided, was Aguinaldo to be killed. His signature to proclamations telling the people to quit the war was going to be needed too much. The party rested two days and then set out for the coast again, on March 25th, the day the Vicksburg had agreed to meet them. “At noon” says General Funston, “we again saw the Pacific, and far out on it a wisp of smoke—the Vicksburg coming in!” In due course they reached Manila Bay. The old palace of the Spanish captains-general, then occupied by our commanding general, is up the Pasig River, accessible from the bay by launch. By that method General Funston took his precious prisoner to the palace without the knowledge of a soul in the great city of Manila. He arrived before General MacArthur had gotten up. In a few minutes the General came out. “Where is Aguinaldo?” said he, dryly. He supposed General Funston simply had some details to tell, like the commanding officers of hundreds of other expeditions that had gone out before that on false scents in search of the illustrious but elusive Presidente. “Right here in this house,” said General Funston. General MacArthur could hardly believe his ears. A few days later, General Funston walked into General MacArthur’s office. The latter said; “Well, Funston, they do not seem to have thought much in Washington of your performance. I am afraid you have got into trouble.” “At the same time he handed me,” says General Funston in the Scribner Magazine article above mentioned, “a cablegram announcing my appointment as a brigadier-general in the regular army.”

In his annual report for 1901,52 General MacArthur describes the capture of Aguinaldo as “the most momentous single event of the year,” stating also that “Aguinaldo was the incarnation of the insurrection.” This last statement explains why he was so anxious to capture him alive. If dead, he would be sure to get re-incarnated in the person of some able assistant of his entourage, thus insuring undisturbed continuance of the war. He was most graciously treated by General MacArthur during his stay as that distinguished soldier’s “guest” at the Malacañan palace, from March 28th until April 20th. The word “guest” is placed in quotations because the host thought so much of him that he considered him worth many hundred times his weight in gold, and had him watched night and day by a commissioned officer. Everything that had been done by the Americans since November, 1899, was explained to him, and he was made to see that our purposes with regard to his people were not only benevolent but also inflexible; in other words that there was no altering our determination to make his people happy whether they were willing or not. Seeing this, Aguinaldo bowed to the inevitable. The programme explained to Aguinaldo is wittily described by a very bright Englishwoman as a plan “to have lots of American school teachers at once set to work to teach the Filipino English and at the same time keep plenty of American soldiers around to knock him on the head should he get a notion that he is ready for self-government before the Americans think he is”—a quaint scheme, she adds, “and one characteristic of the dauntlessness of American energy.” To be brief, on April 19th, Aguinaldo took the oath of allegiance to the American Government, which all agree he has faithfully observed ever since, and issued a proclamation recommending abandonment of further resistance. This proclamation was at once published by General MacArthur and signalized by the immediate liberation of one thousand prisoners of war, on their likewise taking the oath of allegiance. In his proclamation Aguinaldo said, among other things: