Volume 36 — Royal Funeral Rites at Manila

Funeral ceremonies and the royal pyre of honor erected by piety and consecrated by the grief of the very distinguished and ever loyal city of Manila, in memory of the most serene prince of España, Don Balthassar Carlos (may he dwell in glory). By license of the ordinary and of the government. [Printed] at Manila, by Simon Pinpin, in the year 1649.

[This document is presented in translation and synopsis, because of the light it throws on the religio-social life of Manila in the middle of the seventeenth century. It is preceded by the license to print given (June 5, 1649), for the archbishop by Doctor Don Juan Fernandez de Ledo, precentor of Manila cathedral, judge-provisor, official and vicar-general of the archbishopric; by that of the government, given (May 27, 1649), on recommendation of Joseph de la Anunciacion, prior of the Recollect convent in Manila; and by a letter (dated Manila, December 15, 1648, and signed by Lucas de Porras, Gabriel Gomez del Castillo, and Diego Morales) addressed to the governor Diego Faxardo y Chacon, which amounts to a dedicatory epistle. The relation begins with the grief that comes to the city of Manila with the announcement of the sudden death (at the age of seventeen) of the prince Balthasar Carlos, heir to the throne and son of Felipe IV and Isabel of Bourbon, who had died but a short time before. The document continues:]

[The royal announcement arrived in July, 1648; and by his decree the king ordered the demonstrations of sorrow to be made on the same scale as if intended for his own person.]

In conformity with that decree, and in order that they might obey it, the auditors called a meeting, and resolved to publish the mourning, and to prepare the things necessary for the splendid celebration of the funeral ceremonies. At the same time they elected as the manager of that solemn function the fiscal auditor, Don Sebastian Cavallero de Medina, who was as vigilant and punctual in the affairs of his office as attentive to the service of both Majesties—guaranteeing by the completeness of his arrangements the entire success which so serious a matter demanded. As his assistants in carrying out that commission were named the treasurer, Lucas de Porras Ontiberos, alcalde-in-ordinary, and Captains Gabriel Gomez del Castillo and Don Diego Morales, regidors. At a suitable time, the mourning rites were heralded, in fulfilment of the above resolution; and all the provinces were notified to make the same demonstrations, so that the external conduct of so faithful vassals should correspond to the sorrow which palpitated in their hearts and saddened their breasts. Scarcely was the word given before the obedient people changed the precious and fine appearance of their attire with somber mourning garments; and this whole community became a theater of grief—each one showing the loyalty which was as much evinced by his grief as it was wondered at by the barbarous nations who trade in these islands, when they saw in so remote a part of the world so extreme piety, so intense love, and so faithful allegiance to their king, that distance does not make it lukewarm, or absence weaken the affection that these deserving vassals have ever had for their Catholic kings.

The following day, Tuesday, November 10, before sunrise, the care and anxiety of the sacred families were awake, and all went to the royal chapel with different choirs of musicians. There, at the various altars assigned to them, they sang first each their mass, and afterward the responsary in front of the royal catafalque. The mingling of so many voices with the dead silence and serene quiet of the night made an indistinct harmony and a confusion of echoes pleasant and agreeable to the listeners, awakening at the same time in their hearts tender affection and loving grief, which they consecrated to the glorious memory of the prince whose obsequies were being celebrated. After having performed this pious action they went to the palace, where they waited until all who had taken part in the parade of the preceding day had assembled. The parade was arranged and directed at the appointed hour, with the same order and brilliant display as on the preceding day, and took the same course until they entered the chapel of the royal camp. There having filled the seats, and the order and arrangements of the day before having been observed, the office for the dead was commenced, and then the mass was sung. Doctor Juan de Ucles, the venerable dean of the holy church, officiated, accompanied with all solemnity and pomp, at an altar which was erected near the center of the catafalque in front of the urn. He was clad in his vestments, with precious ornaments; and on that day the music was better than ever before, the musicians outdoing themselves in heightening its beauties, and with the consonance and harmony of their voices rendering it suitable to the majesty and high dignity of him who filled their thoughts at that moment. The reverend father Francisco Colin, outgoing provincial and present rector of the college of the Society of Jesus, and qualifier of the Holy Office, sealed the glory of that day. He mounted the pulpit, where he preached a sermon so well suited to the subject in its eloquence, the depth of its arguments, the gravity and maturity of its discourse, the profundity and erudition of its fundamental proofs, and the solidity and thoroughness of its learning, that he arrested the attention and even the admiration of those present. Not less learnedly did he instruct them than he melted them to affection and sorrow, quickening in them all, with his intellectual vigor and his well-known pulpit eloquence, grief at having lost a life so filled with virtues and so crowned with merits. Some responsaries followed the sermon, and with that ended the funeral ceremonies for our prince, whose memory will live immortal in our hearts. During those two days was shown the devotion and loyalty of vassals ever attentive to the service of their Catholic monarch, in recognition of the rewards that they receive from his august hand. The same parade was formed once more; and, leaving his Lordship at the palace, they bade one another farewell, and returned to their houses.

The sumptuous and royal mausoleum, which was erected by the piety of this noble community, occupies the last place in this brief relation. In the description of it, one finds his eloquence fail and he is dismayed, and he can find no excellence in his art that is proportionate to the measure of its grandeur and majesty. The said alcaldes-in-ordinary and two regidors assisted the fiscal auditor as managers in the construction of that catafalque. They urged forward the work, and attended to what was done by the best workmen and those who were most skilled in the matter. Beyond doubt they saw fulfilled the object of their vigilance, in the applause and admiration of all. It was a work that seemed born of nature rather than a contrived invention of art. In it gravity was surpassed, richness gleamed forth, majesty was displayed, and method excelled; and its brilliancy was dazzling, with so beautiful an arrangement and display of lights, without proving an obstacle by their number or the lights paling, that grandeur was never seen to greater advantage or majesty more resplendent.

“Esta fatal urna encierra fallîda vna Magestad: ayer temida Deidad, oy breve montón de tierra.

Poco alcança, y mucho hierra quien prevenido, no advierte lo inconstante de su suerte; pues no reserva la Parca al Sucessor de un Monarca del tributo de la muerte.”

At the four corners of the urn, outside the circumference of the catafalque, were seen four kings-at-arms, of beautiful appearance with their headpieces pulled down and gold maces on their shoulders, with which one hand was occupied, while with the other they held up the escutcheon of the royal arms embroidered with gold. The royal arms were also stamped upon their breasts on their black corselets, girdled with a beautiful variety of bands and edgings of gold. In the niches of the first columns, which formed the front and faced the urn, upon their fretted pedestals and spattered with gold rose the figures of Grammar and Rhetoric with their emblems—so excellent in their workmanship and lifelike in attitude that, although mute, the excellence of their sculpture and make-up instructed [the beholder]. I do not describe the grace of their shapes, the beauty of their features, the easy flow of the hair, the undulations of the drapery, spangled with bits of glass, and the other accompaniments of beautiful ornaments and fantasies of art, in order not to weary [my readers] with prolixities. They were significant of the excellent progress which the prince made in both of those branches of study, and an illustrious trophy of his early genius and marvelous intellect. Grammar had the following attached to the placard of her pedestal:

“La primera, que dictò al Principe Balthassar Preceptos de declinar, y de construir, fuy yo. A la muerte declinó en su postera licion, porque es cierta conclusion; que en el arte del morir, la construccion del vivir acaba en declinacion.” “The first to dictate to Prince Balthassar the rules of declension and construction was I. At death he declined in his last lesson; for it is a sure conclusion that in the art of dying the construction of living ends in declension.”

Not less pithily and elegantly did Rhetoric explain her thought in another stanza, of ten verses, as follows:

“Yo enseñé lo figurado, y lo terso del estilo al Principe, aquiem el hilo cortò de la vida, el Hado Mas ya está desfigurado en aquesta tumba oscura: mirale sin hermosura; y desde tus tiernos años, Rhetoricos desengaños aprende en esta Figura.” “I taught the figures and polish of style to the Prince, whose thread of life Fate cut short. But now already lies he disfigured in that dark tomb. Look at him, robbed of his beauty; and, from thy tender years, learn in that figure rhetorical errors.”

The second structure was built upon the first, and it was no less grave and majestic. There symmetry and proportion vied with beauty and variety of colors, which the brush usurped from nature. It was composed of twelve columns, made in imitation of jasper, with their pedestals, architraves, and flying cornices; and these were closed above with a cupola, adorned with spirals and volutes, which happily completed the work. In the space between the columns of the facade or front, and occupying their own pedestals, were set majestic and pleasing figures of Arithmetic and Geometry, with their emblems. These statues faced each other, and corresponded to Grammar and Rhetoric who were in the first structure—in both their location and altitude, and in the proportions and excellence of their sculpture. It was a glorious blazon for our prince, who, although of so tender years, was able, having cast aside sloth and childish amusements, to give himself up to the exercise of branches of learning so useful, thus preparing for success in the monarchical government of his kingdoms. Arithmetic had an inscription on the placard of her pedestal, which read as follows:

“A guarismo reducida la cuenta de Balthassar, no vino mas que a sumar diez y siete años de vida. Concluyóse la partida, y la cuenta rematada se hallò la muerte pagada: porque se ajustó de suerte, en la vida con la muerte, que no quedó a dever nada.” “Reduced to a cipher is the account of Balthassar, who at last added up but seventeen years of life. The entry was concluded, and the account having been ended, death was found to be paid. For he so balanced his accounts with death in life that he did not remain at all indebted.”

Geometry had a corresponding placard on her base, which read as follows:

“Balthassar con mi medida el orbe entero midio: y no contento passó a medir la eterno vida. La indistancia conocida, que ay del vivir al morir; es mejor saber medir lo que eterno a de durar con regla del bien obrar, con compas del bien vivir.” “Balthassar estimated the whole world with my measure, and, not content, he passed to measure eternal life. It is better to be able to measure the unknown distance between life and death (which must endure eternally) with the rule of good works and the compass of good living.”

The space between the columns of this structure was occupied by the prince (or rather, our sovereign)—the glorious shoot from the Austrian trunk, and the beautiful flower which was the most brilliant ornament of the august lily of Francia—who, because he had no room in the entire sphere of his extensive monarchy, mounted gloriously, by means of the wings of his brilliant and heroic virtues, to rule in the heavens. His statue was so well conceived, and so commensurate with the beauty of the architecture, that one would think it had a soul, for it gave soul to the entire work. Not only did it take possession of the eyes but also of the hearts [of the people] who rendered humble adoration to the image of their prince. The prince was armed, with breastplate and shoulder-piece embroidered with beautiful edgings of gold, and his clothing was elegant and showy. In his right hand he held an imperial and Cæsarean crown. In his left hand was another and royal crown, indicating him as sworn prince of the kingdoms of España and of the empire of the Indias. On the base of the image was an inscription which read as follows:

“Iurado Principe fui; y Rey, y Emperador fuera: mas ay que la Parca fiera, embidia tuvo de mi! Hiriome cruel, y perdi el ser Rey, y Emperador: mas orto Imperio mejor por el perdido he ganado: porque crece el embidiado, quanto la embidia es mayor.” “I was the sworn prince, and would have been king and emperor, had it not been that savage Fate was envious of me. Cruelly did she wound me, and I lost the kingship and the empire. But I have gained another and better empire instead of the one that I lost; for greater does the envied one become when the envy is greater.”

[Then follow the poems and eulogies above mentioned, which are written partly in Latin and partly in Spanish.]