Philippine magazine. [Vol. 27, no. 1]

June, 1930

PHILIPPINE MAGAZINE

17

Bonifacio's courtship although I knew nothing about it.
Three months thereafter, just as I was beginning to like
him, I learned that my father was against Bonifacio's suit
because he was a freemason, and freemasons then were
considered bad men, thanks to the teachings of the friars.
Six months later I had earnestly fallen in love with him,
and my father, though opposed at first, in the end gave his
consent because of his love for me and because I told him
the whole truth.
In deference to my parents, we were married in the
Catholic church of Binondo in March, 1893, with Restituto
Javier and his wife as sponsors. But the week following,
we were remarried in the house of our sponsor in what was
then Calle Oroquieta before the katipuneros at their
request, since they gave no importance to the Catholic
ceremony. I remember that there was a little feast, attended, among others, by Pio Valenzuela, Santiago Turiano2, Roman'Basa, Mariano Dizon, Josefa and Trining
Rizal, and nearly all the dignitaries of the Katipunan.
That very night I was initiated as a member of the Katipunan3 and assumed the symbolic name "Lakambini"
in order to obey and practice its sacred principles and
rules.
After staying about one week in Mr. Javier's house, we
decided to look for a residence of our own and we found one
on Calle Anyahan in front of the San Ignacio chapel, and
after that I began to do all I could for the propagation and
growth of the K. K. K. (Kataastaasan Kagalanggalang
Katipunan) 4 of the A. N. B. (Anak ng Bayan) 5. For this
reason, certain belongings of the Katipunan, such as the
revolver and other weapons, the seal, and all the papers,
were in my custody, since in those days Emilio Jacinto,
the Secretary of the Katipunan, lived at our house.
He (Emilio Jacinto) was in charge also of the printing
press used by the Katipunan and was the first to print
the Kartilla and the "ten commandments" that were
drawn up by Andres and himself, who were like two
brothers, so much so that they worked together in all the
balangay. Andres was the author of the first regulations
or ten commandments, Emilio Jacinto of a later one (i. e.
the Kartilla), so that it could be truthfully said that Andres
was the author of the idea; but because of his affection for
and in deference to Emilio Jacinto, the Kartilla written
by the latter was made to prevail and put into effect by
the katipuneros. Bonifacio's decalogue was never published and I am told that the same now is in the collection
of Mr. Pepe Santos, son of the late Don Panyong Santos.
Those days were extremely full of danger for us since
the sons of the nation, already chafing under bondage, rose
to a man and quickly swelled the ranks of the K.K.K., and
every night our house was nearly filled with men who came
to listen to the voice of the fatherland, among whom were
Enrique Pacheco with his two sons, Cipriano and Alfonso,
Tomas Remigio, and Francisco Carreon, members of the Supreme Council of the Katipunan, and others who later

joined in the "cry of Balintawak". Often these people
remained till dawn busy administering the Katipunan oath.
Once or twice a month, those in charge of the propaganda
met, and consequently the printing press, managed by
Emilio Jacinto, was busier than ever and he was obliged to
devote his whole day to this work, and I nearly clothed
myself with the katipunan documents 6 that were so danger

ous to keep in those days. It is useless to conjecture what
would have been my fate had those papers been discovered
on my person and the fate of those liberty-loving sons of
the Philippines whose names were inscribed on them, for
it sometimes happened that a mere denunciation would
cause many deaths. Many times on receiving some warning that the house would be searched by the police (veterana), irrespective of the hour, I would immediately gather
all the papers, the arms, and the seal, and order a quiles
and in it without eating-for this often happened at noon
or at eight o'clock at night —I would go driving till midnight along the bay front of Tondo and the streets of Binondo in order to save our countrymen from'danger. The
thing that grieved me, however, was the fact that there were
among our friends some who instead of protecting me
refused to give me help and even kept away from me upon
finding that I was carrying dangerous things. News was
then transmitted not by telephone but verbally from one
man to another, and in this way I knew whenever the
danger was over and I could go back home for some rest
and peace.
The time passed and after more than a year I was about
to become a mother. Andres Bonifacio temporarily moved
me to my parents' house where I had been born, and there,
too, our eldest child saw the first light of day, a boy, whom
we christened also Andres Bonifacio and whose godfather
was Pio Valenzuela. After two months, I returned to
Manila, and before the end of the year we were victims of a
fire in Dulong Bayan, which occurred on Holy Thursday,
and caused no little trouble. We were forced to move from
one house to another until one day our child died in the
house of Pio Valenzuela, on Calle Lavezares, Binondo.
In this house we lived together for a while; then we moved
to Calle Magdalena, Trozo. By this time, a close watch
on the Katipunan was already being kept by the Spanish
government.
Having extended (the association's activities) to all
parts of the Archipelago so that some of its secrets had
already been divulged, we returned to Caloocan. But
because we were closely watched, most of the men, including Andres Bonifacio, after a few days left town, and
then the outbreak began with the cry for liberty on August
25, 1896. I was then with my parents, but when I learned
that I was about to be apprehended I decided to leave and
did so at once at eleven o'clock at night, with the intention
of returning to Manila under cover, through the rice fields
to Loma. I was treated like an apparition, for, sad to say,
I was driven away from every house I tried to enter to get a
little rest. But I learned later that the occupants of the
houses I visited were seized and severely punished and
some even exiled-one of them was an uncle of mine whom
I visited that night to kiss his hand, and he died in exile.
My father and two brothers were also arrested at this
time.
My wandering continued and by four o'clock in the

morning I reached Lico Street, now Soler, and went to the
house of an uncle of mine, Simplicio de Jesus, sculptor,
but near a police station, and after five hours I left there
in a carromata to look for a safer place to live. I found
a refuge in Calle Clavel and there, with my sister-inlaw, Esperidiona Bonifacio, I stayed quietly for a month
under the name of Manuela Gonzaga. Being a member of