EPIDEMIC OF 1700

 

We who lived through the Covid pandemic weren't the first, and probably won't be the last, people of the Marianas to go through such an ordeal.

When the Europeans came to our islands, they brought with them diseases for which our ancestors had no immunity. The saying, "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger," rings true in this case. Exposure to viruses either kills you or strengthens your immunity against them. Being so isolated for thousands of years, our ancestors had no exposure to foreign viruses, and when they were exposed, our people died by the hundreds.

In 1700 a virus of some sort, some suspect influenza or chicken pox, reduced our islands' populations. Others think it was smallpox.

It was described by local missionaries as a catarrh, meaning an inflammation of the mucus membranes, blocking the air passages of the nose and throat and the interior sinuses of the head. Other symptoms were bloody stool, high fevers, body aches and, according to one Jesuit, jaundice.

Since the missionaries were in daily contact with the boys living in their school, the Colegio de San Juan de Letrán, the names of some of the boys who died are mentioned.

Diego Hangi was a boy of 12. Unless there was a word hangi in the past, this could be hangai, which means to go somewhere with a set purpose.

Diego Ramen. Possibly låmen. The Spaniards often wrote R for L, as in Merizo instead of Malesso'. Låmen is a Chamorro word with more than one meaning; to harm, but also in prior times a need or to esteem. It's interesting that two boys named Diego are mentioned. Perhaps Diego was a more common name in the Marianas in 1700 in honor of Diego Luís de Sanvitores.

Lucas Emengro was a boy from Luta. He was unable to receive Viaticum, which is the last Holy Communion of the dying. When at last his vomiting subsided, he received Viaticum and died much consoled having received the Body of the Lord. His last name could have been emanglo', which can mean either to look for wind or to lack wind. The Spaniards often wrote E instead of A (for example Magofña was also spelled Megofña). And then we have the R / L issue again.

Francisco Javier Piritu suffered bad health even before the epidemic. He had so many ulcers all over his body that 60 were counted at one time. A very spiritual boy, he endured all these pains with great patience till death erased all suffering. Here again it is possible his name was pilitu (the R / L issue) but we don't know what pilitu could have meant.

Some of the Chamorros mentioned were not named.

There was a man from Saipan who suffered much with great patience, not uttering one word of complaint. He had made his confession and received the Last Rites, but the priest did not give him Viaticum (holy communion for the dying) because the man appeared to the priest to be somewhat rough. But the sick man called for the priest in the middle of the night and, as the priest neared the house, he could hear the man pray with such devotion that the priest was convinced that the man had real faith and gave him Viaticum.

On Easter Sunday in Malesso', at the priest's orders that all the sick be brought to Mass, the priest was overwhelmed to see the church filled with people, including the sick brought on hammocks or transported in boats. Not a single person in Malesso' missed Mass that day. Still I wonder if it was a wise idea to bring everyone, sick and not sick, together in one place. I suppose it didn't matter; the healthy would still be exposed to the sick in their own homes.

As a kind of a doctor, the Jesuit missionaries usually had a Jesuit brother (not a priest) assigned to Guam who knew something of medicines and basic medical treatment. In 1700, it was Brother Jaime Chávarri, who tended to the sick with whatever medicines he had.

The number of actual victims of this epidemic is unknown. An early report said there were "many" deaths, but a later report says not many died. Perhaps this was the missionary's way of covering up the decrease in population. If islands have fewer people, they then need less personnel. So there would be an interest in keeping the numbers higher.

What we can say is that by 1710 the population was just a little over 3000 people, whereas at the time of Sanvitores' arrival, the population could have been as high as 50,000 if not higher. A prior epidemic in 1688 also killed hundreds.

GUAM TALE OF A FILIPINO EXILE

 

JOAQUIN PARDO DE TAVERA

It is said that anti-colonialist movements are often lead by descendants of the colonists.

Joaquín Pardo de Tavera was one such political reformer. He didn't have a drop of Filipino blood, but had been born in Manila, the son of a Spanish father and mother both born in Spain.

Trained in the law, Pardo de Tavera also filled certain government positions in Manila.

But he had reformist ideas, and entered circles of like-minded reformists. Reformists didn't all have the exact same ideas. At first, many if not most didn't advocate separation from Spain, but wanted a more liberal administration of the Philippines with more political and civil rights.

But even this created enough tension that boiled over into open mutiny against Spain in 1872. The uprising was centered in the city of Cavite and became known as the Cavite Mutiny. In reprisal, the Spanish government rounded up many citizens, even priests. Some were sentenced to death, more were jailed, some were exiled. Pardo de Tavera was one of them. He, with others, was exiled to Guam. In Spanish, they were known as the deportados, the deported or exiled ones.

On April 22, 1872, the ship Flores de María arrived at Guam, anchoring in Apra Harbor. From the ship, the passengers got on smaller boats to take them to the landing at Punta Piti. From there they probably rode on carriages to Hagåtña.

Instead of staying in a jail, of which Guam only had a small one, unable to house so many prisoners, and since these prisoners were of the political, not criminal, kind, with little hope of escape from an island, the prisoners were allowed to live in private homes. Many of the deportados found rooms in the homes of Spaniards and upper class Chamorros. Pardo de Tavera was allowed to bring his wife, Gertrudes Gorricho, better known as Doña Tula, with him to Guam. She was independently wealthy, and her money helped ease their exile.

The presence of political prisoners who, on the part of many, had much education, sometimes wealth, cultural refinement and intellectual formation was welcome to many people on Guam. Even the lone Chamorro priest, Padre Palomo, enjoyed conversations with many of these prisoners, some of whom were Filipino priests. Some of the Chamorro elite mixed socially with these deportados, and learned about political and international affairs otherwise more difficult to obtain from abroad.

It was not as enjoyable for the deportados. Guam's isolation was, for them, a real punishment. Sending them in exile to Spain would have been putting them in a political nerve center, something the deportados would have enjoyed. No; the monotony and dullness of a small, distant and sleepy tropical island was part of the punishment.

Pardo de Tavera spent 997 days in exile on Guam. On January 13, 1875, the merchant ship Legazpi brought news from Manila that a pardon had been granted to the Filipino deportados. The ship left Guam on January 16 but headed for Hong Kong, not to Manila. Pardo de Tavera never returned to the Philippines. He settled in Paris, France and died there in 1885.

pardo de tavera collection

Some speculate that the above photo is of deportados, possibly on Guam. The first man standing on the left could have been Joaquín Pardo de Tavera.

Thanks to Renz Dahilig of Manila for bringing this to my attention.