Translated by Epifanio de los Santos, from the Bonifacio Papers online collection.
They (the Magdalo partisans) held a secret meeting and resolved to pursue him and pick a quarrel with him, and, if he became offended, to kill or disarm and bind him (A. Bonifacio), together with his soldiers. When the detachment came, they sent a message to our house, from afar off, to lay down our arms. We paid no attention, whereupon they came, and when they approached our house, they surrounded it, and their colonel then entered the house. He (her husband) went up to him peacefully and asked him where he was going, and the colonel replied that they were making a reconnaissance towards Indang and had stopped because they had not yet had their breakfast. At the same time he inquired concerning our situation, saying that most assuredly we must be short of provisions. We replied we were not, saying that we were better off here than at Indang, as there was somebody who furnished us rice that was not of the poorest quality (pinawa). The colonel replied: They are better off in the pueblo now because they receive rice from Naik, and, if you wish, we can live together. He (my husband) replied: What should I do at Indang where our brethren would maltreat me? I do not even want my eyes to behold them again. After he had said this, there was a pause and they had their breakfast. They then asked to go, saying that it was getting late and promising that they would return with their soldiers to have dinner with us. After leaving, what they did upon arriving outside of our battery was to order the same closed, giving instructions that no member of the family of the Supremo was to be allowed to pass, as otherwise their lives would be forfeited. This was the order given at said battery, which they watched with a small detachment of their soldiers. When our men who were taking rations outside of the battery arrived, the sentries refused to let them pass. The men to whom passage was thus denied reported the matter immediately, and it was only thus that we learned what was being done. Besides, they disarmed all our comrades on the outside and took all the men away. For this reason my husband ran after them in order to ask them why they were acting in this manner, but he did not succeed in overtaking them, and they returned and waited for them to return in order to ask them whether they had been acting under orders from their officers. While thus waiting, night came. They seized our women and even our utensils, but one of the women kidnapped made her escape and reported to our soldiers that their women had been abducted. The soldiers wanted to leave in order to demand an explanation, but we succeeded in detaining them, and they did not go beyond the battery, but waited there. When he (her husband) learned what had happened to his comrades, he gave orders and, sent a message requesting a conference with the officers, because, he said, it was not becoming that there should be any quarrel between them. They told the messenger that they refused to parley and that bullets would settle the matter. The messenger therefore returned. About dawn they fired shots, and some more shots on the other side. I then awakened him (her husband) and when he went outside, he met a soldier who told him that they were coming in overwhelming force and were already near. When they came close, they fired rapidly, and, forming a line of skirmishers, surrounded us. He (her husband), however, ordered our soldiers not to fire, and our men shouted: Brethren, don’t shoot; tell us what you want. They paid no attention, and when we were within range, they fired a volley at my husband, and when he fell they stabbed him and struck him with the butts of their guns. My brother-in-law Ciriaco was seized by two and shot to death. Procopio they tied and beat, with a revolver. They then placed the wounded in hammocks, and those they had bound, and took them to the pueblo. When they saw me come out of the place where I had been hiding, the officers of the detachment ran towards me and tried to compel me to say where the money of Cavite or of the treasury was kept; they also took by force my revolver and even what little expense money we had. Then they hastened to tie me to a tree, attempting to force me to tell them the whereabouts of the money which they said we had collected. The brothers can testify to this, also the other residents here who are bringing us food every month. When they did not obtain from me what they sought, they took me to the Tribunal at Indang, and there I took care of the wounded man, whom they had stripped, taking possession of the clothes he wore, and giving him a blanket instead. When I approached, I was hardly able to attend to him, as they wanted to bind me and take me to Naik, but upon the supplications of others, they let me alone. In the morning, however, the soldiers took us back and forth between Indang and Marigondon and Naik. Alas, my brothers; when we arrived at that pueblo, they locked us up in the barracks, and when we first arrived, they left us at the door for two hours before we were taken in, and about an hour at the foot of the stairs. They then put us in the kitchen part of the building, in the priest’s bath room, where they locked us up as in a dungeon, and where it was almost impossible for me to get to him (her husband), and when I insisted, they put me in a room prohibiting me from communicating with any person. And as they said they were going to make us testify, I besought all the generals to treat us with justice, saying that, if it was practicable, they should, before requiring us to testify, call the other chiefs and question us publicly in their presence. They agreed to my request, saying that this was no more than just; but it was not done, and after more than a week had elapsed, they took us to Marigondon and took our testimony only on the third day. They bought over Pedro Giron with money and coached him well in what they wished him to testify; that he (her husband) had ordered them all put to death. He agreed (to testify to this) because they promised him his life, and, as a fact, they made him leave immediately after he had testified. Hence, when my husband demanded to be allowed to face Giron, they replied that he had been killed at Naik. Why is he with them now? When the summary trial was over, Capitan Emilio, according to them, crdered my husband shot within twenty four hours. They did not even allow him to make his defence or have a counsel of his own choice. The time passed and he was pardoned, but four or five days later, orders were given for his banishment. When the sentence was pronounced, I asked several of the chiefs whether the contents of the sentence were the truth, to which they replied that I must not pay any attention to rumors, and to prove this, the judge advocate who had prosecuted the case came and told us not to worry, because nothing had happened, and then there came… an order to the Spanish captain that on the third day at eight o’clock at night, while it was raining hard, they should take my husband out of the house by force. I besought the major, Lazaro Macapagal, who took him and executed the order, not to take the sick man outside until after the rain had stopped, or the next morning. He could not do so for the reason that, as he said, it was by order of the commanding officer; but he told me to go to Capitan Emilio’s house and supplicate him. I went out accompanied by two women; we almost had to go on all-fours through the dark night and amidst a heavy downpour while we were passing the river. We arrived at Emilio’s place, but were unable to go upstairs immediately, as we were completely drenched. When we went upstairs, Emilio hid in his room and made them tell us that he was ill and was resting; but I noticed that he was awake and talking to Jocson. When Jocson came out and approached Pedro Lipana, who claimed to be Emilio’s secretary, he came to me and asked me what I wanted. I said that, if it was possible, they should not take the sick man away until the next day. He said no, and I took leave in order to go back; but as I was going downstairs, he told us to wait for a letter for the sentry. The letter being written, he handed it to two soldiers, with orders to accompany us. They were to detain him (her husband) in the Tribunal and confine me upon the return from the house of the Pangulo. I argued, but they told me they would shoot me; and thereafter nobody was allowed to approach me. At noon on the following day they took the two brothers out; towards the afternoon there was a skirmish outside of the pueblo, near where I was, and they let me go. Upon being released, I went to the other side to look for him, (her husband), and I met those who had taken him away. They were carrying with them the clothes I had obtained for charity, like the medicine and the blanket with which I had covered my brother-in-law. When I asked them about those they had taken away, they answered that they had left them in the hills, in the house of a lieutenant. I asked why they were carrying the clothes, and they told me that he (her husband) had told them to bring me those clothes. Alas, brothers! I then began to look for them (Bonifacio and his brother) at the place they had indicated, and when I arrived, I was told they were on another hill, which was extremely high. I got there, ascended, and did not find him. We then went on again. Alas, my brothers we went through the hills looking for him for about two weeks, resting only at night. As I did not find him and there was nobody to tell me his whereabouts, we followed the soldiers, but they in answer to our questions, indicated all sorts of places. And we resolved to leave only when one of my uncles told me the truth, because he had given him food at the place where the firing squad had stopped before they took them away.
I am still lucky, my brothers, to be alive after all I have gone through. We roamed about for a whole month with nothing to eat but green bananas. When my companions succeeded in obtaining, through charity, a handful of rice, they boiled it in water and gave it to me. The clothes I wore were so much used that it was impossible to burn them.
Gregoria de Bonifacio