Chapter 35: Promulgation
The next day was January 23, 1899.
A momentous occasion—and the weather agreed. The endless blue of the open skies was dotted with only a few puffs of white here and there.
Beneath it, the town of Malolos was in a festive spirit. Banderitas crisscrossed all over town, and Philippine flags were at every door and in every child's hand. Townsfolk lined the streets, cheering and blowing horns as the president's long parade passed by.
Spearheading the joyous procession was the marching band, playing proudly and loudly the anthem of the republic-to-be—Lupang Hinirang. I heard it for the first time then and thought it a decent arrangement. I would only fully appreciate it once I heard the lyrics much later on.
Following behind was the largest group in the parade. Heneral Isidoro Torres led in front, garbed in his bright white military uniform. Behind him marched his 6,000-strong contingent of Bulaceño soldiers, clad in rayadillo uniforms and carrying Spanish Mausers. The sight of this well-drilled, division-sized unit was intimidating—even to me—and I was forced to take heart. Still, I wondered how many among them were truly battle-worthy.
After the Bulacan army came the generals and colonels of the Republic on their fine horses. Heneral Antonio Luna, Heneral Artemio Ricarte, Heneral Mariano Llanera, and one Heneral Luciano San Miguel—who, apparently, had been at our table last night though his presence barely registered—led our formation. I was in the second row, riding beside Heneral Gregorio del Pilar, his friend Heneral Manuel Tinio, and another quiet general with a peculiar moustache—Heneral Pantaleon Garcia.
To his credit, General Gregorio del Pilar apologized again for what happened last night. I was quick to forgive him, especially with how well the evening had turned out for me. After dancing to three full scores, we returned to the table, where I enjoyed her undivided attention until it was time to go home.
I gave out a sigh. It had been a night far too short. Her laughter and giggles still lingered, echoing in the walls of my mind.
Heneral del Pilar and Heneral Tinio tried to converse with me during the parade, but the noise of the fanfare made that nearly impossible. So, for most of the journey, we kept to ourselves—silently enjoying the thrill of the occasion while enduring the increasing heat of the sun.