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Title: Rizal's own story of his life

Author: José Rizal

Editor: Austin Craig

Release date: March 8, 2015 [eBook #48438]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48438

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RIZAL'S OWN STORY OF HIS
LIFE ***

RIZAL.

Sketched by himself in Berlin when he was twenty-five
years old. Physicians then told him that he had
consumption; but with care, and fresh air, he soon
became well again.

RIZAL’S “HYMN TO LABOR”
Words by José Rizal

(Arranged from Chas. Derbyshire’s translation; lines in different order.)

Tune of “The Wearing of the Green”

RIZAL’S “MARIA CLARA’S LULLABY”
Words by José Rizal

(Chas. Derbyshire’s translation)

Music by Juan Hernandez

THE AUTHOR AT 14

RIZAL’S OWN STORY OF HIS
LIFE

“IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND THERE ARE NAMES
WHICH OF THEMSELVES SIGNIFY ACHIEVEMENTS.
THEY CALL FORTH REVERENCE AND REMIND US OF
GREATNESS.”

SIGNATURE ON THE MANUSCRIPT OF THE NOVEL “EL FILIBUSTERISMO

EDITED BY AUSTIN CRAIG, RIZAL RESEARCH-
PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF THE PHILIPPINES

National Book Company
MANILA 1918

COPYRIGHT 1918 BY AUSTIN CRAIG

Registered in the Philippine Islands

Rizal’s Painting of his Sister Saturnina

(Afterwards Mrs. Manuel Hidalgo)

Printed in the United States of America (Philippine Islands)
Press of E. C. McCullough & Co., Manila, P. I.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Dr. W. W. Marquardt suggested this book.

Miss Josephine Craig advised and assisted in the selections.

Hon. C. E. Yeater read and criticised the original manuscript.

Miss M. W. Sproull revised the translations.

Dean Francisco Benitez acted as pedagogical adviser.

Miss Gertrude McVenn simplified the language for primary school use.

Mr. John C. Howe adapted and arranged the music.

Mr. Frederic H. Stevens planned the make-up and, in spite of wartime difficulties, provided
the materials needed.

Mr. Chas. A. Kvist supervised the production.

Mr. C. H. Noronha, who, in 1897, in his Hongkong magazine Odds and Ends, first published
Rizal’s farewell poem “My Last Thought”, was the careful and obliging proofreader.

Assistant Insular Architect Juan Arellano, a colleague of the editor on the Dapitan Rizal
national park committee, designed the sampaguita decorations.

Mr. A. Garcia achieved creditable illustrations out of poorly preserved photographs whose
historical accuracy has not been impaired by the slightest embellishment.

And the entire establishment of Messrs. E.C. McCullough & Company—printers, pressmen
and bookbinders—labored zealously and enthusiastically to do credit to the imprint: “Made
in Manila—The Work of Filipinos”.

The Memory of Rizal is kept alive in many ways:

1. A province near Manila bears his name.

2. The anniversary of his death is a public holiday.

3. A memorial school has been built by the Insular Government in his native town.

4. His home in exile has been made a national park.

5. The first destroyer of the future Philippine navy is named “Rizal”.

6. Rizal’s portrait appears on the two-peso bill.

7. Rizal’s portrait appears on the two-centavo postage stamp.

A 2-centavo postage stamp

A two-peso bill

A 2-centavo stamped envelope

A Philippine post card

ILLUSTRATIONS
Page
Rizal’s pencil sketch of himself 1
Rizal at 14 4
Rizal’s painting of his sister Saturnina 6
Rizal’s portrait on Philippine postage and money 8
Rizal’s home, Kalamba 12
Rizal’s mother and two of his sisters 16
Clay model of dog and cayman combat 17
Where Rizal went to school in Biñan 18
Rizal monument, Biñan 24
Santa Rosa Gate, on Biñan-Kalamba road 26
Model of a Dapitan woman at work 28
Rizal’s uncle 29
Rizal’s uncle’s home in Biñan 30
Guardia Civil soldier 31
Rizal’s mother 33
Rizal’s father 34
One of Rizal’s teachers, Terracotta bust by Rizal 36
Padre Sanchez, Rizal’s favorite teacher in the Ateneo 37
Carving of the Sacred Heart, made by Rizal in the Ateneo 44
Wooden bust of Rizal’s father 45
Rizal at 18 48
Rizal’s sacrifice of his life 57
Professor Burgos 58
The lake shore at Kalamba 60
A Manila school girl, drawn by Rizal 62
Rizal in Paris 64
Rizal at 30 66
Crayon portrait of Rizal’s cousin Leonore 70
Dapitan plaza and townhall 80
Wooden medallion of Mrs. José Rizal 84
Chalk pipehead, Rizal’s last modeling 86
Rizal at 27 90
Manila skyline, sketched by Rizal 92
Rizal at 22 104
Rizal at 24 106
Rizal at 26 108
Rizal at 28, from a group picture 110
Rizal at 28, profile 114

Rizal Mausoleum, Luneta, Manila 118
Noli Me Tangere manuscript-cover design, by Rizal 120
El Filibusterismo manuscript-cover, lettered by Rizal 121
Portrait of Rizal at time of finishing El Filibusterismo 121
Los Baños house where El Filibusterismo was begun, drawn by Rizal 121
Diploma of Merit awarded Rizal for allegory “The Council of the Gods” 123
Silver pen prize won by Rizal for poem “To Philippine Youth” 125
Alcohol lamp in which Rizal hid poem “My Last Thought” 125

CONTENTS

—Autographic quotation from Rizal.

Page
Rizal’s Song “Hymn to Labor” 2
Rizal’s Song “Maria Clara’s Lullaby” 3
My Boyhood 13
My First Reading Lesson 49
My Childhood Impressions 59
The Spanish Schools of My Boyhood 61
The Turkey that Caused the Kalamba Land Trouble 65
From Japan to England Across America 69
My Deportation to Dapitan 73
Advice to a Nephew 81
Filipino Proverbs 83
Filipino Puzzles 84
Rizal’s “Don’ts” 85
Poem: Hymn to Labor 87
Memory Gems from Rizal’s Writings 91
Mariang Makiling 93

NOT BY RIZAL

The Memory of Rizal 8
Rizal Chronology 101
A Reading List 119
Philippine National Hymn (by José Palma) 126
Song: Hail, Philippines (by H. C. Theobald) 128

Rizal-Mercado home, Kalamba. Here José Rizal was born. The family lost this building, along with most of their other
property, in the land troubles. Governor-General Weyler sent soldiers to drive them out, though the first court had
decided in their favor and an appeal to the Supreme Court had not yet been heard. Later, the upper part of the building
was rebuilt.

RIZAL’S OWN STORY

MY BOYHOOD
José Rizal wrote the first three chapters in 1878. He was seventeen years old at that time.

CHAPTER I

My Birth and Earliest Years in Kalamba

I was born on Wednesday, the nineteenth of June, 1861. It was a few days before the full of
the moon. I found myself in a village. I had some slight notions of the morning sun and of my
parents. That is as much as I can recall of my baby days.

The training which I received from my earliest infancy is perhaps what formed my habits. I
can recall clearly my first gloomy nights, passed on the azotea of our house. They seem as
yesterday! They were nights filled with the poetry of sadness and seem near now because at
present my days are so sad. On moonlight nights, I took my supper on the azotea. My nurse,
who was very fond of me, used to threaten to leave me to a terrible but imaginary being like
the bogey of the Europeans if I did not eat.

I had nine sisters and a brother. Our father was a model parent. He gave us the education
which was suitable in a family neither rich nor poor. He was thrifty. By careful saving, he
was able to build a stone house. He also bought another house; and he put up a nipa cottage
on our plot of irrigated ground. The cottage was shaded by bananas and trees.

At nightfall, my mother had us all say our prayers together. Then we would go to the azotea
or to a window to enjoy the moonlight; and my nurse would tell us stories. Sometimes sad
and sometimes gay, nurse’s stories were always oriental in their imagination. In these stories,
dead people, gold, and plants on which diamonds grew were all mixed together.

When I was four years of age, my little sister Concha died, and for the first time I cried
because of love and sorrow. Till then I had shed tears only for my own faults, which my
loving, prudent mother well knew how to correct.

I learned to write in my own village. My father looked after my education. He paid an old
man, who had been his schoolmate, to teach me the first steps in Latin. This teacher lived in
our house till he died, five months later. He had been in almost perfect health and it was at
the moment of death that he received extreme unction.

Mrs. Rizal-Mercado and her two daughters, Saturnina, the eldest, and Trinidad, then a
baby

In June of 1868, I went to Manila with my father. That was just after the birth of Trinidad, the
third sister younger than myself. We went in a casco which turned out to be a clumsy boat. I
shall not try to tell how happy I was at each new stop on the banks of the Pasig. Beside this
same river, a few years later, I was to be very sad. We went to Cainta, Taytay, and Antipolo,
and then to Manila. In Santa Ana I visited my eldest sister, Saturnina, who at that time was a
student in La Concordia College. Then I returned to my village and remained until 1870.

A dog and cayman combat modeled at Dapitan in 1894. The dog was Rizal’s
own, and looked like one that had been his boyhood companion at Kalamba

Where Rizal went to school in Biñan: site of Master Justiniano’s house, which burned down many years ago

CHAPTER II

My Schooling in Biñan

Biñan is a town about one and one-half hour’s drive from my own town, Kalamba. My father
was born in Biñan, and he wished me to go there to continue the study of Latin, which I had

just begun. He sent me over one Sunday in the care of my brother. The parting from my
family was tearful on the side of my parents and my sisters, but I was nine years old and
managed to hide my own tears. We reached Biñan at nightfall. We went to an aunt’s house
where I was to live. When the moon came up, a cousin took me around the town. Biñan
appeared to me large and wealthy but neither attractive nor cheerful.

My brother left me after he presented me to the schoolmaster, who, it seemed, had been his
own teacher. The schoolmaster was a tall, thin man with a long neck and a sharp nose. His
body leaned slightly forward. He wore a shirt of sinamay that had been woven by the deft
fingers of Batangas women. He knew Latin and Spanish grammar by heart; but his severity, I
believe now, was too great. This is all that I remember of him. His classroom was in his own
house, only some thirty meters from my aunt’s home.

When I entered the classroom for the first time, he said to me:

“You, do you speak Spanish?”

“A little, sir,” I answered.

“Do you know Latin?”

“A little, sir,” I again answered.

Because of these answers, the teacher’s son, who was the worst boy in the class, began to
make fun of me. He was some years my elder and was taller than I, yet we had a tussle.
Somehow or other, I don’t know how, I got the better of him. I bent him down over the class
benches. Then I let him loose, having hurt only his pride. After this, possibly because of my
small size, my schoolmates thought me a clever wrestler. On going from the class one boy
challenged me. He offered me my hold, but I lost and came near breaking my head on the
sidewalk.

I do not want to take up time with telling about the beatings I got, nor shall I attempt to say
how it hurt when I received the first ruler blow on my hand. I used to win in the
competitions, for no one happened to be better than I. I made the most of these successes. But
in spite of the reputation I had of being a good boy, rare were the days in which my teacher
did not call me up to receive five or six blows on the hand. When I went out with my
companions, they jokingly called me nicknames. But individually they used to be so kind to
me that I thought little of their teasings. A few of them were very good and always treated me
well. Among these few was a second cousin of mine. Later, some of them were my
schoolmates in Manila and then it became my turn to tease.

Near the house of my teacher, Justiniano Aquin Cruz, lived his father-in-law, generally called
Juancho. Juancho was an aged artist who let me help him with his paintings. I had already
such a liking for this art that our schoolmates called José Guevarra, another pupil, and myself
the class painters.

CHAPTER III

My Daily Life in Biñan

Many of us lived in the same house. There were my aunt, two cousins, and three half-cousins.
My aunt was a very old lady, over seventy. She used to sit on the floor and read the Bible in
Tagalog. One cousin was a maiden lady who liked very much to go to confession and to do
penances. The other cousin, her brother, was a widower.

Rizal Monument, Biñan. It stands in front of Rizal’s maternal grandfather’s house

One of the half-cousins was something of a tomboy. She was quick to anger but frank and
true-hearted. At times, we young folks played in the street at night. Our elders did not permit
us to play in the house. The tomboy was two or three years older than I and taught me games.
She always treated me as if I were her brother.

My manner of life was simple. I heard mass at four if there were a service so early, or studied
my lessons at that hour and went to mass afterwards. Then I went out in the yard and looked
for mabolos. Then came breakfast, which generally consisted of a plate of rice and two dried
sardines. There was class work till ten o’clock and after lunch a study period. In the

afternoon, there was school from two o’clock
until five. Next, there would be play with my
cousins for a while. Study and perhaps
painting took up the remainder of the
afternoon. By and by came supper, one or two
plates of rice with a fish called ayungin. In the
evening we had prayers and then, if it was
moonlight, a cousin and I would play in the
street with the others. Fortunately, I was never
ill while away from home. From time to time, I
went to my own village. How long the trip
seemed going, and how short coming back!

Many things happened which it would be
tiresome to read. Finally, there came a letter
from my sister Saturnina which announced that
the steamer Talim would stop for me on a
certain day. I said good-bye to my numerous
friends and teacher. To my teacher, I expressed
my sadness in leaving and my gratitude for his Santa Rosa Gate, on the road from Kalamba to Biñan.
instruction. Although he had punished me
frequently, he did so, I now think, out of the kindness of his heart; and his heart was heavy
when he did it.

I left Biñan on Saturday afternoon, the
seventeenth of December, 1870. I was then nine
years old. For the first time, I saw what a
steamer really was. It seemed to me most
beautiful and in every way admirable. But I
heard my cousin, who was with me, make
remarks to the banquero that were not
complimentary to her speed. I was the only
passenger from Biñan. Two sailors put my
baggage into a cabin. Then I went to inspect it.
I thought I was going to be without a cabin-
mate, but a Frenchman, Arturo Camps, who
was a friend of my father, looked after me. The
journey seemed very long, but finally we
arrived at Kalamba.

Oh! how glad I was to see the shore! At once I
Statuette modeled in Dapitan from a street scene.
wanted to jump into the first banca. A deckhand
took me in his arms and put me into the captain’s boat. Then the Frenchman came and four
sailors rowed us ashore. It is impossible to describe my joy when I saw a servant waiting for

us with a carriage. I jumped in and soon found myself again in our home, happy in the love
of my family. Here end my recollections of that period of mingled sadness and gladness, in
which, for the first time, I came to know anybody of foreign birth.

CHAPTER IV

The Injustice Done My Mother

(This chapter and the next one, Rizal wrote in 1879. At that time he was eighteen years old.)

Some days after my return to Kalamba, my parents decided that I should remain, and that
later, I should go to Manila. I wanted to study with a teacher of the town, even though I could
learn no more than multiplication, so I entered the village school.

Rizal’s uncle. He was educated at a Calcutta English
school. He was a friend of the liberal Spanish leaders
of his time.

Rizal’s uncle inherited this home in Biñan from Rizal’s grandfather. Once the largest dwelling in Biñan, it is now a
cinematograph and the home of two families. The Rizal monument stands in front of it.

At this time, an uncle of mine, Don José Alberto, returned from
Europe. He found that during his absence, his wife had left his
home and abandoned her children. The poor man anxiously
sought his wife and, at my mother’s earnest request, he took her
back. They went to live in Biñan. Only a few days later the
ungrateful woman plotted with a Guardia Civil officer who was
a friend of ours. She accused her husband of poisoning her and
charged that my mother was an accomplice. On this charge, the
alcalde sent my mother to prison.

I do not like to tell of the deep grief which we all, nine sisters
and brothers, felt. Our mother’s arrest, we knew, was unjust. The
men who arrested her pretended to be friends and had often been
our guests. Ever since then, child though I was, I have distrusted
friendship. We learned later that our mother, away from us all
and along in years, was ill. From the first, the alcalde believed
the accusation. He was unfair in every way and treated my
mother rudely, even brutally. Finally, he persuaded her to confess
to what they wished by promising to set her free and to let her
see her children. What mother could resist that? What mother
would not sacrifice life itself for her children?

They terrified and deceived my mother as they would have any Guardia Civil soldier.
other mother. They threatened to condemn her if she did not say
what they wished. She submitted to the will of her enemies and
lost her spirit. The case became involved until the same alcalde asked pardon for her. But this
was only when the matter was before the Supreme Court. He asked for the pardon because he
was sorry for what he had done. Such was his meanness that I felt afraid of him. Attorneys
Francisco de Marcaida and Manuel Masigan, Manila’s leading lawyers, defended my mother
and they finally succeeded in having her acquitted. They proved her innocence to her judges,
her accusers and her hosts of enemies. But after how much delay?—After two and a half
years.

Meanwhile my father decided to send me to Manila
with my brother Paciano. I was to take the entrance
examinations for the secondary course in the Ateneo
Municipal. I arrived in Manila on June 10th, 1872. I
found out for the first time what examinations were
like. My examinations were in Christian doctrine,
arithmetic and reading, in San Juan de Letran
College. They gave me a passing mark and I
returned to my home. A few days later came the
celebration of the town festival, after which I went
to Manila. But even then, I felt that unhappiness was
in store for me.

Rizal’s Mother.

Rizal’s Father

Rizal’s signature, from a letter written in
London when 28 years of age.

CHAPTER V

A Student in Manila

As I had hoped, I was taken to the Jesuit priest at that time in charge of the Ateneo Municipal.
He was Father Magin Fernando. At first he was unwilling to admit me. One reason was I had
come late. Other reasons were that I did not seem strong and was very small for my age. I
was then eleven. But later, Doctor Manuel Xeres Burgos, a nephew of the ill-fated Padre
Burgos, spoke in my favor; and Father Fernando admitted me.

I dressed myself in the uniform like the other students, wearing a white coat, or americana,
and a necktie, and entered the chapel of the Jesuit Fathers to hear mass. What fervent prayers
did I address to God!

After mass, I went to the classroom. There I saw a number of boys, Spanish, mestizos and
natives, and a Jesuit teacher. Father José Bech, the teacher, was a tall man, thin and somewhat
stooping, but quick in his movements. His face was thin and pale, yet lively. His eyes were
small and sunken, his nose sharp and Grecian. His thin lips curved downwards. He was a
little eccentric, sometimes being out of humor and intolerant; at other times amusing himself
by playing like a child.

Some of my schoolmates were interesting enough to warrant mentioning them by name.
Florencio Gavino Oliva, a young man from my own province, had great talent but he did not
work steadily. The same thing was true of Moisés Santiago, a mathematician and a penman.
It was also true of Gonzalo Manzano, who then held the position of “Roman Emperor.”

In Jesuit colleges they divide the boys into two groups or “empires,”—one Roman and the
other Greek. These two “empires” are always at war. The boys of one “empire” always want
to outdo those of the other empire in all kinds of contests. Each group has a leader who is

called
“Emperor.”
The
“Emperor”
wins his
place by
doing the
best work
and
standing
the highest
of anyone
in his
group. I
was put at
the end of
the line. I
could
scarcely
Rizal’s favorite teacher in the Ateneo. Father
speak
Sanchez visited Rizal in his exile in Dapitan, and
Spanish,
helped him start a school for the Dapitan boys
but I
already
understood it.

After the religious exercises, I went out and found An Ateneo Professor modeled by Rizal in Dapitan from
memory. This bust won a gold medal at the St. Louis
my brother waiting to take me to my lodgings,
Exposition, in 1904
which were about twenty-five minutes’ walk from
the college. My brother did not wish to leave me
in the Walled City, which seemed very gloomy to me.

I lodged in a small house on Calle Caraballo, near an estero. The house consisted of a dining
room, a sala, a bedroom and a kitchen. An awning covered the small space between the door
and the steps. My landlady was a maiden lady called Titay, who owed our family three
hundred pesos. Her mother, a good old woman, lived with her. There were besides a crazy
woman, quite harmless, and some Spanish mestizos in the house.

I must not speak of my sufferings, or of my troubles and pleasures. I shall record only what
happened in school during that year. By the end of the first week, I was going up in the class.
Then I began to spend the siesta-time studying at Santa Isabel College. For this, I paid three
pesos a month. I went there with Pastor Millena, a boy of my own age. A month later, I was
“Emperor”.

How pleased I was when I won my first prize, a religious picture! In the first quarter I gained
another prize, with the grade “Excellent.” After that I did not care to apply myself. I had
foolishly become dissatisfied because of something my teacher said. Unfortunately, this
continued until the end of the year and I gained only second place in all my subjects. This
gave me the grade of “Excellent” but without any prize.

I spent the vacation at home and went with my eldest sister, Nening, to Tanawan, for the town
festival. This was in 1873. But our pleasure was marred by the fact that our mother was not
with us. I had gone alone to see my mother without first sending word either to her or to my
father. This was at the close of the term in which I held second place. I thought with what joy
I would surprise her. Instead, we wept in each other’s arms. We had not seen each other for
more than a year.

After vacation was over, I returned to Manila and enrolled in the second year. Then I hunted
lodgings in the Walled City. It was too tiring to live so far away. I found a place at 6 Calle
Magallanes in the house of an elderly widow, Doña Pepay. Her daughter, also a widow, lived
with her. The name of the daughter was Doña Encarnación, and her four sons were José,
Rafael, Ignacio, and Ramón.

Nothing worth telling happened that year. My professor was the same as in the previous year;
but I had different schoolmates. Among them I found three who had been with me in Biñan.
At the end of this year, I won a medal and returned to my town.

I again went alone to visit my mother in prison. Like another Joseph, I prophesied to her from
a dream that her release would take place within three months. This prediction happened to
come true.

At this time, I began to devote my leisure to reading novels. Years before, I had read one, but
it was not with any great interest. Imagine how a romantic youngster of twelve would delight
in the Count of Monte Cristo! Under the pretext that I should have to study general history, I
persuaded my father to buy me a set of Cesar Cantu y Diós’ histories.

I gained much by reading them. In spite of my only half applying myself and of my
indifferent Spanish, I was able to win prizes in the quarterly examinations. I should have
gained the medal if I had not made some slips in Spanish, which I spoke very poorly. This
gave the place to a Spanish lad who spoke his mother tongue better than I could. Thus, then, I
finished my third year.

When I next returned to Manila, I found my former landlady’s house full. I had to take a
room in the house with my brother, Paciano Mercado, in company with a boy from my town
named Quintero. My life was not so free as formerly, for I was under close supervision. The
regular hours, however, were better for me. I prayed and played with my landlord’s children.

A portrait of General Paciano Rizal-Mercado should appear here, but he has never had his picture taken. In
September, 1896, he was cruelly tortured in an unsuccessful endeavor to get him to sign a statement that his

brother was the leader of the rebellion. Rizal’s last letter, from the Fort Santiago death-cell, tells how much the
younger brother owed to the elder:

“My dear brother: Now that I am about to die, it is to you that I write my last letter. I am thinking of how you
worked to give me my career....

... I believe that I have tried not to lose my time ... I know how much you have suffered for my sake. ... I assure
you, brother, that I die innocent of this crime of rebellion.”

Carving of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, made by Rizal while
in the Ateneo. Even then he was the hero of his
schoolmates and the little image was long kept, as here
shown, on the door of the students’ dormitory. In 1896 his
former teachers removed it and took it to him in the death
cell at Fort Santiago

A little later my mother was proved innocent and she was set free. She came to embrace me
as soon as she was free. After the vacation, in that memorable year of my mother’s release, I
again had my lodgings in the Walled City. The house was in Calle Solana and belonged to a
priest. My mother had not wanted me to return to Manila, saying that I already had sufficient
education. Did she have a presentiment of what was going to happen to me? Can it be that a
mother’s heart gives her double vision?

My future profession was still unsettled. My father wanted me to study metaphysics, so I
enrolled in that course. But my interest was so slight that I did not even buy a copy of the
textbook. A former schoolmate, who had finished his course three months before, was my

only intimate friend. He lived in the same street as I did. My
companions in the house were from Batangas and had only recently
arrived in Manila.

On Sundays and other holidays, this friend used to call for me and
we would spend the day at my great-aunt’s house in Trozo. My
aunt knew his father. When my youngest sister entered La
Concordia College, I used to visit her, too, on the holidays. Another
friend had a sister in the same school, so we could go together. I
made a pencil sketch of his sister from a photograph which she lent
me. On December 8th, the festival of La Concordia, some other
students and I went to the college. It was a fine day and the
building was gay with decorations of banners, lanterns and flowers.

Shortly after that, I went
home for the Christmas
holidays. On the same
steamer, was a Kalamba
girl who had been a pupil
in Santa Catalina College
for nearly five years. Her
father was with her. We
were well acquainted but Bust of his father, made by Rizal
her schooling had made when 14
her bashful. She kept her
back to me while we talked. To help her pass the
time, I asked about her school and studies but I got
hardly more than “yes” and “no” in answer. She
seemed to have almost, if not entirely, forgotten her
Tagalog. When I walked into our house in
Kalamba, my mother at first did not recognize me.
The sad cause was that she had almost lost her
sight. My sisters greeted me joyfully and I could
read their welcome in their smiling faces. But my
father, who seemed to be the most pleased of all,
Rizal as a painter. This portrait is from a group picture said least.
of students who lived in the house of Rizal’s cousin,
The next day we were expecting friends from
Antonio Rivera. Rizal was then eighteen years old.
Manila to arrive, on their way to Lipa. But the
steamer landed its passengers at Biñan because of a
storm. So I saddled a pony and rode over there to meet them. My horse proved to be a good
traveler and when I got back to Kalamba I rode on, by the Los Baños road, to our sugar mill.
There I tied the horse by the roadside and for a time watched the water flowing through the
irrigation ditch. Its swiftness reminded me of how rapidly my days were going by. I am now

twenty years old and have the satisfaction of remembering that in the crises of my life I have
not followed my own pleasure. I have always tried to live by my principles and to do the
heavy duties which I have undertaken.

MY FIRST READING LESSON
This tells how he himself became an intelligent student. It was probably written while he was studying the
schools of Saxony. These were the models for America so that the present educational system here is along the
lines he advocated. As a child he had written a poem, “By Education the Fatherland Gains in Splendor”.

I remember the time when I had not seen any other river than the one near my town. It was as
clear as crystal, and joyous, too, as it ran on its course. But it was shaded by bamboos whose
boughs bent to every breeze as if always complaining. That was my only world. It was
bounded at the back by the blue mountains of my province. It was bounded in front by the
white surface of the lake. The lake was as smooth as a mirror. Graceful sails were to be seen
everywhere on it.

At that age, stories pleased me greatly and, with all my soul, I believed whatever was in the
books. There were good reasons why I should. My parents told me to be very careful of my
books. They urged me to read and understand them. But they punished me for the least lie.

My first recollection of reciting my letters reaches back to my babyhood. I must have been
very little then, for when they rubbed the floor of our house with banana leaves I almost fell
down. I slipped on the polished surface as beginners in skating do on ice. It took great effort
for me to climb into a chair. I went downstairs step by step. I clung to each round of the
baluster.

In our house, as in all others in the town, kerosene oil was unknown. I had never seen a lamp
in our town, nor a carriage on our streets. Yet I thought Kalamba was a very gay and lively
town. One night, all the family, except my mother and myself, went to bed early. Why, I do
not know, but we two remained sitting alone. The candles had already been put out. They had
been blown out in their globes by means of a curved tube of tin. That tube seemed to me the
finest and most wonderful plaything in the world. The room was dimly lighted by a single
light of coconut oil. In all Filipino homes such a light burns through the night. It goes out just
at day-break to awaken people by its spluttering.

My mother was teaching me to read in a Spanish reader called “The Children’s Friend.” This
was quite a rare book and an old copy. It had lost its cover and my sister had cleverly made a
new one. She had fastened a sheet of thick blue paper over the back and then covered it with
a piece of cloth.

This night my mother became impatient with hearing me read so poorly. I did not understand
Spanish and so I could not read with expression. She took the book from me. First she
scolded me for drawing funny pictures on its pages. Then she told me to listen and she began
to read. When her sight was good, she read very well. She could recite well, and she

understood verse-making, too. Many times during Christmas vacations, my mother corrected
my poetical compositions, and she always made valuable criticisms.

I listened to her, full of childish enthusiasm. I marveled at the nice-sounding phrases which
she read from those same pages. The phrases she read so easily stopped me at every breath.
Perhaps I grew tired of listening to sounds that had no meaning for me. Perhaps I lacked self-
control. Anyway, I paid little attention to the reading. I was watching the cheerful flame.
About it, some little moths were circling in playful flights. By chance, too, I yawned. My
mother soon noticed that I was not interested. She stopped reading. Then she said to me: “I
am going to read you a very pretty story. Now pay attention.”

On hearing the word “story” I at once opened my eyes wide. The word “story” promised
something new and wonderful. I watched my mother while she turned the leaves of the book,
as if she were looking for something. Then I settled down to listen. I was full of curiosity and
wonder. I had never even dreamed that there were stories in the old book which I read
without understanding. My mother began to read me the fable of the young moth and the old
one. She translated it into Tagalog a little at a time.

My attention increased from the first sentence. I looked toward the light and fixed my gaze
on the moths which were circling around it. The story could not have been better timed. My
mother repeated the warning of the old moth. She dwelt upon it and directed it to me. I heard
her, but it is a curious thing that the light seemed to me each time more beautiful, the flame
more attractive. I really envied the fortune of the insects. They frolicked so joyously in its
enchanting splendor that the ones which had fallen and been drowned in the oil did not cause
me any dread.

My mother kept on reading and I listened breathlessly. The fate of the two insects interested
me greatly. The flame rolled its golden tongue to one side and a moth which this movement
had singed fell into the oil, fluttered for a time and then became quiet. That became for me a
great event. A curious change came over me which I have always noticed in myself whenever
anything has stirred my feelings. The flame and the moth seemed to go farther away and my
mother’s voice sounded strange and uncanny. I did not notice when she ended the fable. All
my attention was fixed on the fate of the insect. I watched it with my whole soul. I gave to it
my every thought. It had died a martyr to its illusions.

As she put me to bed, my mother said: “See that you do not behave like the young moth.
Don’t become disobedient, or you may get burnt as it did.” I do not know whether I answered
or not. I don’t know whether I promised anything or whether I cried. But I do remember that
it was a long time before I fell asleep. The story revealed to me things until then unknown.
Moths no longer were, for me, insignificant insects. Moths talked; they knew how to warn.
They advised, just like my mother. The light seemed to me more beautiful. It had grown more
dazzling and more attractive. I knew why the moths circled the flame.

The advice and warnings sounded feebly in my ears. What I thought of most was the death of
the heedless moth. But in the depth of my heart I did not blame it. My mother’s care had not

had quite the result she intended.

Years have passed since then. The child has become a man. He has crossed the most famous
rivers of other countries. He has studied beside their broad streams. He has crossed seas and
oceans. He has climbed mountains much higher than the Makiling of his native province, up
to perpetual snow. He has received from experience bitter lessons, much more bitter than that
sweet teaching which his mother gave him. Yet, in spite of all, the man still keeps the heart of
a child. He still thinks that light is the most beautiful thing in creation, and that to sacrifice
one’s life for it is worth while.

Rizal’s sacrifice of his life, on the Luneta, Manila, December 30th, 1896. He is
now buried, in the imposing Rizal Mausoleum, near the scene of his execution.

Professor José Burgos. He was unjustly executed in 1872. Of him, Rizal wrote:

“He awakened my intellect and made me understand goodness and justice. His farewell words
I shall always remember: ‘I have tried to pass on to you what I received from my teachers. Do
you now do the same for those who come after you?’”

MY CHILDHOOD IMPRESSIONS
One of numerous rough drafts evidently written for practice. Published as “Mi Primer Recuerdo,” in El
Renacimiento, Manila, February 2, 1908.

I spent many, many hours of my childhood down on the shore of the lake, Laguna de Bay. I
was thinking of what was beyond. I was dreaming of what might be over on the other side of
the waves. Almost every day, in our town, we saw the Guardia Civil lieutenant caning and
injuring some unarmed and inoffensive villager. The villager’s only fault was that while at a
distance he had not taken off his hat and made his bow. The alcalde treated the poor villagers
in the same way whenever he visited us.

We saw no restraint put upon brutality. Acts of violence and other excesses were committed
daily. The officers whose duty it was to protect the people and keep the public peace were the
real outlaws. Against such lawbreakers, our authorities were powerless. I asked myself if, in
the lands which lay across the lake, the people lived in this same way. I wondered if there
they tortured any countryman with hard and cruel whips merely on suspicion. Did they there
respect the home? Or over yonder also, in order to live in peace, would one have to bribe
tyrants?

The Lake, Laguna de Bay, from the Kalamba shore. Rizal’s brother, General
Paciano Rizal-Mercado, cleared this region of Spanish soldiers after
Dewey’s victory and then told the people to go to work. He set the example
by again becoming a farmer.

THE SPANISH SCHOOLS OF MY BOYHOOD
From the introduction which Doctor Rizal put to his Spanish version of an article on “The Transliteration of
Tagalog”. His advocacy of the English style used in other Malay countries as more akin to the genius of Filipino
dialects was considered extremely unpatriotic by most Spaniards.

Pencil Sketch of a Manila School Girl.

You perhaps attended a village Spanish school to learn your letters. Possibly, you have had to
teach the letters in Spanish to others smaller than yourself. In either case, you must have
noticed what I have, that children find great difficulty in mastering certain syllables. These

are ca, ce, ci, co, ga, ge, gua, gui, etc. It is because Filipino children do not understand the
reasons for such irregularities. Nor do they know the cause for the changes in value of the
sounds of certain consonants.

In the old times, blows fell like rain. Many pupils were whipped
every day. Sometimes the schoolmaster broke the ferule and
sometimes he broke the children’s hands. The first pages of their
primers fell to pieces from long and hard use. The children cried.
Even the monitors had to suffer at times. Yet those syllables
which cost the children so many tears are of no use to them.

Those syllables are necessary only in the learning of Spanish,
which language in my time only three boys in a thousand ever
really learned. These three learned it in Manila, by hearing
Spanish spoken, and by committing to memory book after book. I
often wondered what was the use of learning it at all when in the
end one spoke only Tagalog. But I kept my wonder to myself. I
felt that to try to make reforms in the Philippines at that time
would be to embark on a stormy voyage.

After I grew up, I had to write letters in Tagalog. I was shocked at
my ignorance of its spelling. I was surprised, too, to find the same
word spelled differently in the different works which I consulted.
This proved to me how foolish it was to try to write Tagalog in
the Spanish way. The spelling in use today by all Filipino scholars
is a great improvement over the old style. I want to place the
Rizal when he was with Dr. Pardo credit for this change where it belongs. These improvements are
de Tavera, in Paris, in 1889. due to the studies in Tagalog of Dr. T. H. Pardo de Tavera alone. I
have only been one of the most zealous champions of the change
from the Spanish style.

THE TURKEY THAT CAUSED THE KALAMBA LAND
TROUBLE
This account was given Captain Carnicero, the Spanish commander of the Dapitan district where Rizal was in
exile, in 1892.

My father was a friend of the owners of the Kalamba estate. He was intimate, too, with the
manager in charge of the plantation. Frequently, important visitors came to the plantation
house. Then the manager asked my father for whatever he needed. He very often asked for a
turkey, and my father gladly gave it to him. The poultry yard at our house was always full of
turkeys because my father was a fancier of these fowls.

Rizal at 30

Doctor Blumentritt considered this the best likeness among all the portraits of
Rizal

But one season there came some epidemic and almost all the turkeys died. Only a few pairs,
which were being kept for breeding, were left. Just at this time the manager one day sent for
the customary turkey. Naturally my father had to tell the messenger that he had no turkeys to
spare, because the greater part of them had died. This reply made the manager furiously
angry. He wound up his abuse by saying, “You will pay for this in the end!” A few days later
my father received a note from the manager, saying that he was going to raise the rent on the
land which my father occupied. He said the rent would be one-third more than father was
then paying.

The reason for this decision was clear. It was because my father had refused to give the
manager the turkey. The proof of this was that no other tenant received any such notice.

Father paid this increase on the day set, without a single word of protest, being among the
first to pay. But after a few months, there came another note. In it the manager gave notice
that the rent would be doubled. This, he said, was because my father was growing rich from
the rented land where he had installed machinery for making sugar.

My father could not pay this price. Then he was summoned to appear in court; and finally the
alcalde ordered him to leave the land. So he lost his houses and machinery, all because of a
turkey.

FROM JAPAN TO ENGLAND ACROSS AMERICA
From letters written en route to his friend Mariano Ponce and first published in Manuel Artigas’ Biblioteca
Nacional Filipina, Manila, June, 1910.

On February 28th, 1888, I arrived in
Yokohama. A few moments after reaching
the hotel, I received the card of the official in
charge at the Spanish legation. I had not even
had a chance to brush up when he called. He
was very pleasant and offered to assist me in
my work. He even invited me to live at the
legation, and I accepted. If, at the bottom,
there was a desire to watch me, I was not
afraid to let them know all about myself. I
lived at the legation a little over a month, and
traveled in some of the nearby provinces of
Japan. At times, I was alone; at others, with
the Spanish official himself, or with the
interpreter. While there, I learned to speak
Japanese, and made a slight study of the
Japanese theatre. After many offers of
employment, which I refused, I sailed at last
for America, about April 13th.

On the steamer, I met a half-Filipino family,
the wife being a mestiza, the daughter of an Crayon portrait of Rizal’s cousin, Leonore Rivera, to whom
Englishman named Jackson. They had with he was engaged. The drawing was made in 1882, just before
them a servant from Pangasinan. The son he sailed for Spain. During his absence, his letters were kept
asked me if I knew “Richal,” the author of from her and she was told that Rizal had forgotten her in the
Noli Me Tangere. Smiling, I answered that I gay life of Europe. This was done because her mother’s
did; and, as he began to speak well of me, I advisers thought Rizal’s political ideas made him unsuitable
had to make myself known and say that I for a husband. Leonore finally consented to the marriage
was the author. The mother paid me urged upon her instead, and when too late, through Rizal’s
compliments, too. I made the acquaintance of return in 1887, learned how she had been deceived. She died
a Japanese who was going to Europe. He had not long afterwards, of a broken heart, it was said.
been a prisoner for being a radical and editor
of an independent newspaper. As the
Japanese spoke only Japanese, I acted as interpreter for him until we arrived in London.

During this voyage I was not seasick.

I visited the larger cities of America, where I saw splendid buildings. The Americans have
magnificent ideals. America is a homeland for the poor who are willing to work.

I traveled across America, and saw the majestic cascade of Niagara. I was in New York, the
great city, but there everything is new. I went to see some relics of Washington, that great
man whom I fear has not his equal in this century.

I embarked for Europe on the “City of Rome”, said to be the second largest steamer in the
world. On board, a newspaper was published up to the end of the voyage.

I made the acquaintance of many people. They wondered at my taking about with me a
foreigner who could not make himself understood. The Europeans and Americans were
astonished to see how I got along with him. I could speak to every one in his own language
and understand what he said.

MY DEPORTATION TO DAPITAN
First published in the Biblioteca National Filipina, Manila. The account was secretly sent by Rizal to his friends
very shortly after his arrival at his place of exile. The reference to the school is from a letter to Doctor
Blumentritt.

I arrived in Manila the 26th of June, 1892. It was on a Sunday, at 12 o’clock, noon. A number
of carbineers, including a major, met me. A captain and a sergeant of the Guardia Veterana
were there in civilian clothes. I disembarked with my luggage, and they inspected it at the
custom house.

From there, I went to the Oriente Hotel. I occupied Room No. 22, which overlooks the
Binondo Church.

That afternoon, at four, I presented myself to His Excellency, Governor-General Despujol. He
told me to return at seven in the evening and I did so. He granted my petition for the liberty
of my father, but not for the liberty of my brother and sisters. He told me to return on
Wednesday evening at half past seven.

From there, I went to see my sisters. First I saw my sister Narcisa, afterwards Neneng
(Saturnina). On the following day, Monday, at six o’clock in the morning, I was at the
railway station, bound for Bulacan and Pampanga. I visited Malolos, San Fernando, and
Tarlac. On the return I stopped at Bacolor, reaching Manila on Tuesday at five o’clock in the
afternoon.

Seven-thirty on Wednesday saw me with His Excellency. But not even then did I get him to
revoke the deportation decrees. Still he gave me hope for my sisters. As it was the festival of
Saints Peter and Paul, our interview ended at 9:15. I was to present myself on the following
day, at the same hour.

That day, Thursday, we spoke on unimportant matters. I thanked him for having revoked the
order to banish my sisters and told him that my father and brother would come by the first
mail-steamer. He asked me if I wished to return to Hongkong and I answered, “Yes”. He told
me to come again on Wednesday.

Wednesday he asked me if I persisted in my intention of returning to Hongkong. I told him
that I did. After some conversation he said that I had brought political circulars in my
baggage. I replied that I had not. He asked me who was the owner of the roll of pillows and
petates with my baggage. I said that they belonged to my sister. He told me that because of
them he was going to send me to Fort Santiago.

Don Ramón Despujol, his nephew and aide, took me in one of the palace carriages. At Fort
Santiago Don Enrique Villamor, the commander, received me. He assigned me to an ordinary

room containing a bed, a dozen chairs, a table, a washstand, and a mirror. The room had three
windows. One, without bars, looked out on a court; another had bars, and overlooked the wall
and the beach; the third served also as a door and had a padlock. Two artillerymen were on
guard as sentinels. They had orders to fire on anyone who tried to make signs from the beach.
I could not talk with anyone except the officer of the guard, and I was not allowed to write.

Don Enrique Villamor, the commander of the fort, gave me books from the library.

Each day the corporal of the guard proved to be a sergeant. They cleaned the room every
morning. For breakfast, I had coffee with milk, a roll, and coffee-cake. Lunch was at 12:30,
and consisted of four courses. Dinner was at 8:30, and was similar to the lunch. Commander
Villamor’s orderly waited on me.

On Thursday, the 14th, about 5:30 or 6 p. m., the nephew notified me that at ten o’clock that
night I should sail for Dapitan. I prepared my baggage, and at 10 was ready, but as no one
came to get me, I went to sleep. At 12:15, the aide arrived with the same carriage which had
brought me there. By way of the Santa Lucia gate, they took me to the Malecon, where were
General Ahumada and some other people. Another aide and two of the Guardia Veterana
were waiting for me in a boat.

The “Cebu” sailed in the morning at nine. They gave me a good stateroom on the upper deck.
Above the doors could be read “Chief”. Next to my cabin was that of Capt. Delgras, who had
charge of the party.

Ten from each branch of the military service were in the party. There were artillery, infantry
of the 70th, 71st, 72nd, 73rd, and 74th regiments, carbineers, cavalry and engineers, and
Guardia Civil. Of artillerymen there were at least twelve.

We were carrying prisoners loaded with chains, among whom were a sergeant and a corporal,
both Europeans. The sergeant was to be shot because he had ordered his superior officer, who
had misbehaved while in Mindanao, to be tied up. The soldiers who obeyed orders and tied
the officer up were given twenty years’ imprisonment; and the officer himself was dismissed
from the service because he had let them tie him up.

I ate in my stateroom, the food being the same as the officers had. I always had a sentinel and
a corporal on guard. Every night, Captain Delgras took me for a promenade on deck till 9
o’clock.

We passed along the east coast of Mindoro and the west coast of Panay. We came to Dapitan
on Sunday, at seven in the evening. Captain Delgras and three artillerymen accompanied me
in a boat rowed by eight sailors. There was a heavy sea.

The beach seemed very gloomy. We were in the dark, except for our lantern, which showed a
roadway grown up with weeds.

In the town we met the governor, or commandant, Captain Ricardo Carnicero. There was also
a Spanish ex-exile, and the practicante, Don Cosme. We went to the town hall, which was a
large building.

My life now is quiet, peaceful, retired and without glory, but I think it is useful too. I teach
reading, Spanish, English, mathematics and geometry to the poor but intelligent boys here.
Moreover I teach them to behave like men. I have taught the men how to get a better way of
earning their living and they think I am right. We have begun and success is crowning our
trials.

The Plaza of Dapitan, Island of Mindanao. The townhall appears in the lower
righthand corner. Rizal made a raised map of Mindanao Island on the plaza, to
teach their home geography to the Dapitan people. The map has been restored
by the Insular Government and a bronze tablet tells its history

ADVICE TO A NEPHEW
Written from Dapitan. Rizal took great interest in the education of his sisters’ children and in Germany had
made for them a translation into Tagalog of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales. This he embellished with
many appropriate drawings and wrote out very plainly, making a book of eighty pages.

I think that I ought to mention to you a slight error which I have noticed in your letter. It is a
little error which many in society make.

One should not say, “I and my sisters greet you,” but “My sisters and I greet you.” Always
you have to put yourself last. You should say: “Emilio and I,” “You and I,” “My friend and
I,” and so on. For the rest, your letter is well written. In it you express your thoughts clearly.
You use only the necessary words, and your spelling is good.

Keep on advancing. Learn, learn and think much about what you learn. Life is a very serious
matter. It goes well only for those who have intelligence and heart. To live is to be among
men, and to be among men is to strive.

But this strife is not a brute-like, selfish struggle,—nor with men alone. It is a strife with
men, and at the same time with one’s own passions. It is a struggle with the proprieties, with
errors, with prejudices. It is a never-ending striving, with a smile on the lips and the tears in
the heart.

On this battlefield, man has no better weapon than his intelligence. He possesses no more
force than he has spirit. Bring out your intelligence, then, and improve it. Strengthen and
educate yourself that you may be prepared for the struggle.

FILIPINO PROVERBS
The Proverbs and the Puzzles were published, with comments here omitted, in Truebner’s Oriental Magazine,
London, June and July issues of 1889.

Rizal’s own English.

1. Low words are stronger than loud words.

2. A petted child is generally naked (i. e. poor).

3. Parents’ punishment makes one fat.

4. New king, new fashion.

5. Man promises while in need.

6. He who believes in tales has no mind of his own.

7. The most difficult to rouse from sleep is the man who pretends to be asleep.

8. Too many words, too little work.

9. The sleeping shrimp is carried away by the current.

10. The fish is caught through the mouth.

FILIPINO PUZZLES
He carries me, I carry him.—The shoes.

A deep well filled with steel blades.—The mouth.

Mrs. José Rizal. Wood medallion by Rizal of his wife, made at Dapitan.
Her maiden name was Josephine Bracken. She was Irish, but had been
adopted by an American. Her foster father became blind and, in hope of
recovering his sight, went to Dapitan. There Rizal became engaged to
Josephine but could not marry her because a political retraction was

required of him before the ceremony would be performed. They were
finally married in Fort Santiago, half an hour before his execution. Mrs.
Rizal gave Speaker Osmeña his first lessons in English. She died five
years after her husband

RIZAL’S DON’TS
Condensed from the regulations of the Philippine League (Liga Filipino), a co-operative economic society
which Rizal organized in Manila just before his deportation, in 1892.

DON’T gamble.

DON’T be a drunkard.

DON’T break the laws.

DON’T be cruel in any way.

DON’T be a rabid partisan.

DON’T be merely a faultfinding critic.

DON’T put yourself in the way of humiliation.

DON’T treat anyone with haughtiness or contempt.

DON’T condemn anyone without first hearing his side.

DON’T abandon the poor man who has right on his side.

DON’T forget those who, worthily, have come to want.

DON’T fail those without means who show application and ability.

DON’T associate with immoral persons or with persons of bad habits.

DON’T overlook the value to our country of new machinery and industries.

DON’T ever cease working for the prosperity and welfare of our native land.

A pipe which Rizal made, of chalk, in Fort Santiago for his last Christmas gift
to his father

HYMN TO LABOR
(Written expressly for the exercises celebrating the erection of the pueblo of Lipa, Batangas, into a villa, but
received too late to be used on that occasion.)—Translation by Charles Derbyshire.

Men:
Now the east with light is reddening,
And to our fields and tasks we fare;
By the toil of man sustaining
Life and home and country there.

Though the earth be hard and stubborn,
And the sun unpitying glow,
For our country and our homes
Love an easy way will show.
Chorus:
For his country in peace,
For his country in war,
Let the Filipino work,
Let him live, let him die.

Matrons:
Go then joyous to your labor,
While the wife awaits you here;
With the children learning from her
To hold truth and country dear.

When night brings you weary homeward
May peace and joy await you there;
But if fate unkindly frown,
She your stubborn task will share.
Chorus:
For his country in peace,
For his country in war,
Let the Filipino work,
Let him live, let him die.
Maidens:
Hail to labor! Blessed be it,

For it brings our country wealth;
May we ever hold it sacred,—
’Tis our country’s life and health!

If the youth would win our favor
By his work his faith be shown;
Only he who toils and struggles
Will support and keep his own.
Chorus:
For his country in peace,
For his country in war,
Let the Filipino work,
Let him live, let him die.
Boys:
Show us then the way to labor,—
The road you ope to guide our feet;
So that when our country calls us,
We your task may then complete,

And the old men then will bless us,
Saying: “They are worthy of their sires;
For the dead are honored most
By sons whom true worth inspires.”

Chorus:
For his country in peace,
For his country in war,
Let the Filipino work,
Let him live, let him die.

Rizal at 27. From a Hongkong photo. Taken just after
Governor-General Terrero, who admired the author of Noli
Me Tangere, had advised Rizal to leave the Islands to
escape enemies so powerful that even his protection might
not insure safety. Rizal had dared to help the Kalamba
tenants to answer fully and truthfully inquiries which the
Government had made regarding their landlords

MEMORY GEMS FROM RIZAL’S WRITINGS
Without liberty there is no light.

One evil does not correct another.

My dearest wish is the happiness of my country.

It is a useless life which is not consecrated to a great idea.

A man keeps his independence while he holds to his own way of thinking.

If our country is ever to be free it will not be through vice and crime.

Knowledge is the heritage of mankind, but only the courageous inherit it.

It is better to honor a good man in life than to worship him after he is dead.

Resignation is not always a virtue; it is a crime when it encourages tyrants.

In the flames of war those who suffer most are the defenceless and the innocent.

I have worked for the good of my native land, I have consecrated my life to the welfare of
others.

We need criticism to keep us awake. It makes us see our weaknesses so that we may correct
them.

There are three ways in which one may accompany the course of progress: in front of, beside,
or behind it.

Where are the young men who will consecrate their best years, their ambitions and their
enthusiasms to the welfare of their native land?

Manila skyline. Rizal’s last view of the city as the steamer, in 1882, was taking him to Spain. Drawn on shipboard

MARIANG MAKILING
(This story is a favorite in my town.)

Mariang Makiling was a young woman. She lived somewhere on the beautiful mountain
Makiling, between Laguna province and Tayabas province. No one knew just where or how
she lived. Some said she lived in a beautiful palace surrounded by gardens. Others said she
lived in a poor hut made of nipa and bamboo.

Maria was tall and graceful. Her color was a clear, pure brown, kayumanging kaligatan, as
the Tagalogs say. Her eyes were big and black. Her hair was long and thick. Her hands and
feet were small and delicate. She was a fairy-like creature born under the moon-beams of the
Philippines. She flitted in and out among the woods of Makiling. She was the ruling spirit of
the mountain; but she seldom came within sight of man.

Hunters sometimes saw Maria on the night of Good Friday when they went out to trap deer.
She would be standing motionless on the edge of some great cliff. Her long hair floated in the
wind. She sometimes approached them. She would salute them gravely, then pass on and
disappear among the shadows of the trees. They never dared to question her, to follow her, or
to watch her.

She liked best to appear after a storm. Then she would scurry over the fields bringing back
life to the fallen plants, and setting everything to rights. The trees straightened up their wind-
blown trunks. The streams went back into their beds. All signs of the storm disappeared as
she passed.

Mariang Makiling had a very good heart. She used to lend the poor country folk clothing or
jewels for weddings, baptisms and feast days. All she asked in return was a pullet as white as
milk. It had to be a dumalaga; that is, one that had never laid an egg.

Sometimes she appeared as a simple country girl and helped the poor old women to pick up
firewood. Then she would slip gold nuggets, coins and jewels into their bundles of wood.

A hunter was one day chasing a wild boar through the tall grass and thorny bushes. Suddenly
he came to a hut in which the animal hid. A beautiful young woman came out and said:

“The wild boar belongs to me. You have done wrong to chase it, but I see that you are very
tired. Your arms and legs are covered with blood. Come in and eat. Then you may go on your
way.”

The man was charmed by the beauty of the young woman. He went in and ate everything she
offered him. But he was not able to speak a single word. Before the hunter left, the young

woman gave him some pieces of ginger. She told him to give them to his wife for her
cooking. The hunter thanked her and put the roots inside the crown of his broad hat. On the
way home his hat felt heavy. So he took out a number of the pieces and threw them away. He
was surprised and sorry the next day when his wife discovered that what they had taken to be
ginger was solid gold. The supposed roots were bright as rays of sunshine.

But Mariang Makiling was not always kind and generous to the hunters. Sometimes she
punished them.

One afternoon two hunters were coming down the mountain, carrying some wild boars and
deer which they had killed during the day.

They met an old woman who begged them to give her a quarter. They thought that was too
much to give, so they refused. The old woman said that she would go and tell the mistress of
those animals, and she left them. This threat made the hunters laugh heartily. When night had
fallen and the two were near the plain, they heard a distant shout—very distant, as though it
came from the top of the mountain:

“There they go-o-o—o!”

Then another even more distant cry replied:

“There they go-o-o—o!”

That cry surprised both the hunters, who could not account for it. On hearing it, the dogs
stuck up their ears. They uttered low growls and drew nearer to their masters. In a few
minutes the same cry was heard again, this time from the mountain-side. On hearing it, the
dogs thrust their tails between their legs and came close to their masters. The men stared at
each other without saying a word. They were astonished that the one who uttered the cry
could travel so far in such a short time. When they reached the plain, the fearful cry was
heard again. This time, it was so clear and distinct that both looked back. In the moonlight,
they could see two strange, gigantic shapes coming down the mountain at full speed. Both
hunters ran as fast as they could with such heavy loads. Still the strange creatures came
nearer.

The men, coming to a spring called bukal, threw down their burdens, and climbed a tree; and
the dogs fled toward the town. The monsters came up, and in a few seconds devoured the
wild boars and deer and went back toward the mountain. Only then, did the hunters recover.
The more courageous took aim but his gun missed fire and the monsters escaped.

No one ever knew whether Mariang Makiling had parents, brothers and sisters, or other kin.
Such persons spring up naturally, like the stones the Tagalogs call mutya. No one ever knew
her real name. She was simply called Maria. No one ever saw her enter the town or take part
in any religious ceremony. She remained ever the same. The five or six generations that knew
her always saw her young, fresh, sprightly, and pure.

For many years now no one has seen her on Makiling. Her vapor figure no longer wanders
through the deep valleys. It no longer hovers over the waterfall on the serene moonlight
nights. The melancholy tone of her mysterious harp is no longer heard. Now lovers are
married without getting from her either jewels or presents. Mariang Makiling has
disappeared.

Some blame the people of a certain town who not only refused to give her the customary
white pullet but even failed to return the jewels and clothing borrowed. Others say that
Mariang Makiling is offended because some landlords are trying to take half of the mountain.

Inkstand and pen-tray made, and used, by Rizal in Dapitan. He used it, too, in
writing his last poem “My Last Thought” in Fort Santiago.

A CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE OF JOSÉ RIZAL
1848, June 28.—Rizal’s parents married in Kalamba, La Laguna: Francisco Rizal-Mercado y
Alejandra (born in Biñan, April 18,1818) and Teodora Morales Alonso-Realonda y Quintos
(born in Sta. Cruz, Manila, Nov. 14, 1827).

1861, June 19.—Rizal born, their seventh child.

June 22.—Christened as José Protasio Rizal-Mercado y Alonso-Realonda.

1870, Age 9.—In school at Biñan under Master Justiniano Aquin Cruz.

1871, Age 10.—In Kalamba public school under Master Lucas Padua.

1872, June 10. Age 11.—Examined in San Juan de Letran college, Manila, which, during the
Spanish time, as part of Sto. Tomás University, controlled entrance to all higher institutions.

June 26.—Entered the Ateneo Municipal de Manila, then a public school, as a day scholar.

1875, June 14. Age 14.—Became a boarder in the Ateneo.

1876, March 23. Age 15.—Received the Bachelor of Arts (B.A.) degree, with highest honors,
from Ateneo de Manila.

June.—Entered Sto. Tomás University in Philosophy course.

1877, June. Age 16.—Matriculated in medical course. Won Liceo Artístico-Literario prize, in
poetical competition for “Indians and Mestizos”, with poem “To Philippine Youth.”

Nov. 29.—Awarded diploma of honorable mention and merit by Royal Economic Society of
Friends of the Country, Amigos del País, for prize poem.

1880, April 23. Age 19.—Received Liceo Artístico-Literario diploma of honorable mention
for allegory “The Council of the Gods,” in competition open to “Spaniards, mestizos and
Indians.” Unjustly deprived of first prize.

Dec. 8.—Operetta “On the Banks of the Pasig” produced.

1881. Age 20.—Submitted winning wax model design for commemorative medal for Royal
Economic Society of Friends of the Country centennial.

Wounded in the back for not saluting a Guardia Civil lieutenant whom he had not seen. His
complaint was ignored by the authorities.

Rizal at 22. From the first photo taken after his arrival in
Spain.

1882, May 3. Age 21.—Secretly left Manila, with passport of a cousin, taking at Singapore a
French mail steamer for Marseilles and entering Spain at Port Bou by railroad. Money
furnished. by his brother, Paciano Mercado.

June.—Absence noted at Sto. Tomás University, which owned Kalamba estate. Rizal’s father
was compelled to prove that he had had no knowledge of his son’s plan in order to hold the
land on which he was the University’s tenant.

July–Nov.—A student in Barcelona.

Nov. 3.—Began studies in Madrid.

1885, June 19. Age 24—Received degree of Licentiate in Medicine with honors from Central
University of Madrid.

Rizal at 24. The original photograph was taken in Madrid.

1886, June. Age 25—Received degree of Licentiate in Philosophy, with honors and special
mention in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, from Central University of Madrid.

Clinical assistant to Dr. L. de Weckert, a Paris oculist.

Visited Universities of Heidelberg, Leipzig, and Berlin.

1887, Feb. 21. Age 26—Finished novel Noli Me Tangere in Berlin.

Travelled in Austria, Switzerland and Italy.

July 3.—Sailed from Marseilles.

Aug. 5.—Arrived in Manila. Travelled in nearby provinces with a Spanish lieutenant, detailed
by the Governor-General, as escort.

1888, Feb.—Sailed for Japan via Hongkong.

Feb. 28.–Apr. 13. Age 27—A guest at Spanish Legation, Tokyo, and travelling in Japan.

Rizal at 26. From a photo taken in Switzerland.

April–May.—Travelling in the United States.

May 24.—In London, studying in the British Museum to edit Morga’s 1609 Philippine
History.

1889, March. Age 28.—In Paris, publishing Morga’s History. Published “The Philippines A
Century Hence” in La Solidaridad, a Filipino fortnightly review, first of Barcelona and later
of Madrid.

1890, Feb.–July. Age 29.—In Belgium and Holland, finishing El Filibusterismo (The Reign
of Greed), which is the sequel to Noli Me Tangere.

Published “The Indolence of the Filipino” in La Solidaridad.

Aug. 4.—Returned to Madrid to confer with countrymen on the Philippine situation, then
constantly growing worse.

Rizal at 28. From a group picture, taken in Paris, with the
Artist Luna’s family.

1891, Jan. 27.—Left Madrid for France.

Nov. Age 30.—Arranging for a Filipino agricultural colony in British North Borneo.

Practiced medicine in Hongkong.

1892, June 26. Age 31—Returned to Manila under Governor-General Despujol’s safe
conduct.

Organized mutual aid economic society Liga Filipina.

July 6.—Ordered deported to Dapitan, but the decree and charges were kept secret from him.

Taught school and conducted a hospital during exile, patients coming from China coast ports
for treatment. Fees thus earned were used to beautify the town. Arranged a water system and
had the plaza lighted.

1896, Aug. 1. Age 35—Left Dapitan en route to Spain as a volunteer surgeon for the Cuban
yellow fever hospitals. Carried letters of recommendation from Governor-General Blanco.

Aug. 7.–Sept. 3.—On Spanish cruiser Castilla in Manila Bay.

Sailed for Spain on Spanish mail steamer and just after leaving Port Said was confined to
cabin as a prisoner on cabled order from Manila. (Governor-General Blanco’s promotion had
been purchased by Rizal’s enemies to secure appointment of a governor-general subservient
to them, the servile Polavieja.)

Oct. 5.—Placed in Montjuich Castle dungeon on arrival in Barcelona and the same day re-
embarked for Manila. Friends and countrymen in London by cable made an unsuccessful
effort for a Habeas Corpus writ at Singapore. On arrival in Manila was placed in Fort
Santiago dungeon.

Dec. 3.—Charged with treason, sedition and forming illegal societies, the prosecution
arguing that he was responsible for the deeds of those who read his writings.

Dec. 12.—Wrote poem “My Last Farewell” and concealed it in an alcohol cooking lamp,
after appearing in a courtroom where the judges made no effort to check those who cried out
for his death.

A Paris portrait of Rizal which appears on the 2-centavo
stamped envelope. It is the only profile among his known
portraits.

Dec. 15.—Wrote an address to insurgent Filipinos to lay down their arms because their
insurrection was at that time hopeless. Address not made public but added to the charges
against him.

Dec. 26.—Formally condemned to death by Spanish court martial.

Pi y Margall, who had been president of the Spanish Republic, pleaded with the Prime
Minister for Rizal’s life, but the Queen Regent could not forgive his having referred in one of
his writings to the murder by, and suicide of, her relative, Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria.

Dec. 30.—Married in Fort Santiago death cell to Josephine Bracken, Irish, the adopted
daughter of a blind American who came to Dapitan for treatment.

Age 35 years, 6 months, 11 days. Shot on the Luneta, Manila, at 7:30 a. m., and buried in a
secret grave in Paco Cemetery. (Entry of death made on back flyleaf of Paco Church
Register, among suicides.)

1897, Jan.—Commemorated by Spanish Freemasons who dedicated a tablet to his memory,
in their Grand Lodge hall in Madrid, as a martyr to Liberty.

1898, Aug.—Grave sought, immediately after the American capture of Manila, by Filipinos
who placed over it, in Paco cemetery, a cross inscribed simply “December 30, 1896.” Since
his death his name had never been spoken by his countrymen, but all references had been to
“The Dead” (El Difunto).

Dec. 30.—Memorial services held by Filipinos, and American soldiers on duty carried their
arms reversed.

1911, June 19.—Birth semi-centennial observed in all public schools by act of Philippine
Legislature.

1912, Dec. 30.—Ashes transferred to the Rizal Mausoleum on the Luneta with impressive
public ceremonies.

Rizal Mausoleum, Luneta, Manila. Here lies the body of José Rizal on the place of
his execution, under a monument designed by the designer of the Swiss National Tell
monument.

REFERENCES

A READING LIST
RIZAL, JOSÉ.—The Monkey and the Tortoise. A Tagalog tale told in English and illustrated
by Rizal. Manila, 1912.

—Elias and Salome. An unpublished chapter from the original Noli Me Tangere manuscript.

—The Whole Truth. (La Verdad para Todos.) A defense of the Filipinos.

—By Telephone (Por Teléfono). A satire.

—The Philippines A Century Hence (Filipinas Dentro de Cien Años). A forecast of the
future.

—The Indolence of the Filipino (La Indolencia de los Filipinos). An answer to criticism.

—My Last Thought and other Poems. Translations by Charles Derbyshire and A. P.
Fergusson.

—Mariang Makiling. A folk tale.

(These titles are in the Noli Me Tangere Quarter-Centennial Series, edited by Austin Craig.
Translations are by Charles Derbyshire.) Manila, 1912.

—An Eagle Flight: A Filipino Novel . Adapted from Noli Me Tangere, with a short sketch
of Rizal’s life. Anonymous translator. New York, 1900.

Manuscript of Rizal’s Great Novel, now in the Philippine Library.

El Filibusterismo is the second part, or sequel, of the novel Noli me
tangere. Rizal’s first novel told the Filipinos of their faults; this book
warned Spain of the danger of losing her colony unless the colonial
government became better. “Filibusterer” was the name given to Filipinos
who wanted reforms in the government.

House where El Filibusterismo was begun. This sketch, made in pencil was enclosed in a letter from Los Baños to Prof.
Blumentritt.

—Friars and Filipinos . An abridged translation of Noli Me Tangere by F.E. Gannett. New
York, 1900.

—The Social Cancer . Charles Derbyshire’s translation of Noli Me Tangere. Manila and
New York, 1912.

—The Reign of Greed . Charles Derbyshire’s translation of El Filibusterismo. Manila and
New York, 1912.

BLUMENTRITT, F.—Life of José Rizal. Translated from the German by H.W. Bray.
Singapore, 1898.

—Views of Doctor Rizal, the Filipino Scholar, upon Race Differences. Translated from the
German by R.L. Packard. Popular Science Monthly, Vol. 61 (July, 1902), pages 222–229.

HALSTEAD, MURAT.—The Story of the Philippines . Pages 190–201 give a translation of
Rizal’s “The Vision of Friar Rodriguez” (La Visión de Fray Rodriguez) by F.M. de Rivas.

Chicago, 1898.

CLIFFORD, Sir HUGH.—The Story of José Rizal, the Filipino. In Blackwood’s Edinburgh
Magazine, Vol. 172 (Nov., 1902), pages 620–638.

CRAIG, AUSTIN.—Readings from Rizal. A series of selections from Rizal’s novels, in
volume 1 of “The Philippine Teacher.” Manila, 1905.

—The Rizal Story in Pictures. A series of twenty-one post cards with authentic illustrations
and explanations. Manila, 1908.

—The Story of José Rizal, the Greatest Man of the Brown Race. Manila, 1909.

—Lineage, Life and Labors of José Rizal . Manila and Yonkers-on-Hudson, 1912.

—Particulars of the Philippines’ Pre-Spanish Past. Dr. Rizal’s “Ibn Batutu’s Tawalisi the
Northern Part of the Philippines” appears on pages 20–22. Manila, 1916.

CRAIG-FEE.—Rizal, the Martyr-Hero of the Philippines. An imaginative account,
expanding the known facts, for youthful readers. In “Philippine Education.” Manila, 1913.

BLAIR-ROBERTSON.—The Philippine Islands 1493–1898. Rizal’s annotations to Morga’s
1609 History of the Philippines appear among the notes in Vols. XV and XVI. Cleveland,
Ohio, 1904.

Brief sketches of Rizal’s life and work may be found in every encyclopedia published since
1898, the modern histories of the Philippines have extended references to him and the
numerous recent works on the Philippines all attempt estimates of his influence upon his
countrymen.

Diploma of Merit won by José Rizal
In a literary competition in honor of Spain’s greatest writer, Cervantes, held in Manila in
1880, the Liceo Artistico-Literario offered a gold ring as first prize and the Economic Society
of the Friends of the Country gave the winner a diploma of merit. Rizal’s allegory, “The
Council of the Gods” was preferred by the judges, all Spaniards. But when the envelopes
containing the contestants’ names were opened, there was objection to giving first prize to a
Filipino when prominent Spaniards had taken part in the contest. Rizal says that he was
hissed off the stage when he appeared in answer to the reading of his name. Manila
newspapers of that period dared not speak of the incident openly but there were several
veiled allusions to it. One writer sarcastically said that medical students should be forbidden
to write poetry.

THE COUNCIL OF THE GODS

“We gods and goddesses, met on Mount Olympus, find that the greatest three authors in the
world’s history are of equal merit. So in justice equal respect must be paid them. To Homer
we award fame’s trumpet, to Vergil the lyre of glory, and to Cervantes the laurel wreath of
immortal honor.”

To the Philippine Youth

“Hold high the brow serene,
O youth, where now you stand;
Let the bright sheen,
Of your grace be seen,
Fair hope of my Fatherland!”
Prize, and the first verse of the winning
poem, won by Rizal at the age of 17 in a
public competition open to “Indians and
Mestizos”. By these two names, the
Spaniard called, and divided, the
Filipinos.

My Last Thought

“Farewell, beloved Fatherland, thou sunny clime of ours,
Pearl of the Orient Ocean, our lost Paradise!
For thee my life I give, nor mourn its saddened hours;
And were’t more bright, strewn less with thorns and more with flowers,
For thee I still would give it, a welcome sacrifice.”

The alcohol lamp in which Rizal hid the poem, called
“My Last Thought,” which he wrote in the night after he
learned that he was to die. The original poem, whose ink
shows the effects of the alcohol, is now in the Philippine
Library.

PHILIPPINE NATIONAL HYMN
Written in Spanish by José Palma

Music by I. Felipe

(The versifier of the English translation prefers not to have his name appear.)

HAIL, PHILIPPINES!
Words by L. H. Theobald

Music arranged from the Toreador’s song in the opera “CARMEN”

Colophon

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