The heritage churches of Bohol brought to ruin by an earthquake remain as they are a year after they were toppled. These churches are now history and will be remembered only through photographs and memory.
I remember these churches with fondness but I see no reason to reconstruct them as they were. At best these will only be reproductions, and will never come close to being authentic. Now that God or nature has redrawn the Bohol landscape, maybe it should be taken as a sign that a new structure that reflects the 21st-century church and people should rise from the ruins.
Earthquakes have been with us for centuries, catalogued by the Jesuits of the Manila Observatory from historical records that go all the way back to the 16th century.
These primary-source materials are seldom consulted today except by historians researching disasters, and I think excerpts from these records will make engaging reading in our history textbooks. For example, the great earthquake that devastated Manila in 1645 was one of the unfortunate events that people of the time viewed as an omen of the Dutch invasion of the Philippines in 1646.
The invasion was repelled by an inferior naval force made up of Spaniards and Filipinos that, according to the friar chronicles, was made victorious through the intercession of the Virgin Mary, whose image in Sto. Domingo Church in Quezon City is venerated and celebrated each year in October under the title “La Naval de Manila.”
In 1645 the archdiocese of Manila was without a shepherd and the city was all excited to welcome the new archbishop, His Grace Don Fernando Montero de Espinosa, who landed in Lamon bay in poor health. He traveled to Laguna de Bay and was to be received in the Pasig with much fanfare but he fell ill on the way. He refused to be bled and eventually died of hemorrhage, so Manila’s rejoicing turned to lamentation.
On Nov. 30, 1645, the feast of St. Andrew the Apostle (San Andres in Spanish, which explains how Andres Bonifacio got his name), the city of Manila celebrated the victory against the attack of the Chinese pirate Limahong in 1574 with much fanfare. That evening at eight, according to Fray Joseph Fayol of the Order of Mercy:
“…[T]hey had just finished ringing the animas in the cathedral, the parish churches, and the convents; the sky was clear, the moon bright, and the air calm and still, after a long period, even months, of clear and dry weather. Suddenly a frightful crash was heard, and the earth began to quake so violently that it seemed as if it would become a sepulchre for all the inhabitants. As a result, during the space of four Credos—the time during which the first shock lasted, the earthquake passing from north to south, and then from east to west, with a rapid movement—in that brief time it flung to the ground the most beautiful and magnificent buildings in this city. The stone walls were shaken and bent like sheets of paper or parchment fluttered by the wind; the towers swayed and bent like trees; and the largest trees [broke] like the masts of a ship in the midst of a fierce hurricane. Nothing was heard but the crash of buildings mingled with the clamor of voices entreating Heaven for mercy, the cries of the terrified animals adding to the horror.
“In the streets could only be seen the heaps of stone from the ruined houses, which hindered the flight of those who in frightened haste were leaving their homes. At the first shock of the earthquake, which filled all with fear, some tried to save their lives in the open spaces of their doors and windows; but this effort availed nothing to many, for the houses, falling flat, buried them under the stones and timbers. Others sought to take refuge in the churches; but as many of these had fallen, and others were in dangerous condition, they could not find refuge there. Accordingly, all who could directed their flight to the plazas, and the gates of the city being at once opened, they fled to the beach and the fields, where they whom the earth cast out might look toward the heavens.
“…A Franciscan religious carried the blessed sacrament from the convent of Santa Clara to the main plaza, where a great many people had gathered; so loud were the sobs, cries, and groans of the people that it seemed like a day of judgement. Some bemoaned their children who remained buried in the ruins, others, their parents and relatives. For some, there was no one to weep, since the entire family had perished. We all lamented our sins, as a punishment for which this calamity had befallen us.
“In the first shock one hundred and fifty of the finest buildings, which in other cities would be called palaces, were totally destroyed; all the other houses were so damaged and dangerous that it has been necessary to demolish them completely. It may be said with truth that only a semblance of Manila remains.”
There is no estimate of fatalities, but 450 people were missing. Had the quake occurred a few hours later when everyone was in bed, there would have been more deaths. Another earthquake occurred five days later to finish off the rest of the structures left standing.
In February of 1646 the Dutch attacked the weakened city, and that’s another long story. With more detail from the primary sources, textbook history can be more engaging. Let’s hope K-to-12 improves classroom history by making it relevant, rather than boring, to students.
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Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu