CHAPTER 1

I was born on a moonlit of Wednesday between eleven and midnight in the lakeshore town of
Calamba, Laguna on June 19, 1861. My mother had a hard time giving birth to me because of
my big head.

On June 22, 1861, at aged three days old, I was baptized in the Catholic church by Father
Rufino Collantes, a Batangueño parish priest. It was Father Pedro Casanas who stood as my
godfather. He is a native of Calamba and close friend of the Rizal family. During that time,
Lieutenant-General Jose Lemery was the governor general of the Philippines.

My father whom I call as a “model of fathers” is Don Francisco Mercado. He was born in Biñan,
Laguna on May 11, 1818 and studied Latin and Philosophy at the College of San Jose in
Manila. Because of his hard work and perseverance, he became a tenant-farmer of the
Dominican-owned hacienda. He was indeed a hardy and independent-minded man, who talked
less and worked more, and was strong in body and valiant in spirit.

My mother who was my first teacher is Doña Teodora Alonso Realonda. She born in Manila on
November 8, 1826 and educated at the College of Santa Rosa, a well-known college for girls in
the city. She was a remarkable woman, possessing refined culture, literary talent, business
ability, and the fortitude of Spartan women.

I am the youngest boy in a family with eleven children – two boys and nine girls. My mother
gave birth to my eldest sister Saturnina on 1850 and she has the nickname of Neneng. She was
married Manuel T. Hidalgo of Tanawan, Batangas. My oldest brother Paciano was born on
1851. He stood as my second father. To show my gratitude, I immortalized him in my first novel
Noli Me Tangere as the wise Pilosopo Tasio. I regarded him as the “most noble of Filipinos”. He
became a combat general in the Philippine Revolution. On 1852, Narcisa was born and her pet
name was Sisa. She was married to Antonio Lopez (nephew of Father Leoncio Lopez), a school
teacher of Morong. Olimpia whom we call “Ypia” was born on 1855. She was married Silvestre
Ubaldo, a telegraph operator from Manila. Lucia, my other sister, was born on 1857 and married
to Mariano Herbosa of Calamba, who was a nephew of Father Casanas. Two years later, Maria
was born and Biang was her nickname. She married Daniel Faustino Cruz of Biñan, Laguna.
Concha or in her real name “Concepcion” was born on 1862. She was younger than me and
death was my first sorrow in life. Josefa her pet name was Panggoy was born on 1865. Trining
or Trinidad with her real name was born on 1868. Both her and Panggoy did not marry and were
an old maid. My youngest sister, Soledad was given the pet name Choleng and was born on
1870. She married Pantaleon Quintero of Calamba. I always call my sisters Doña or Señora and
Señorita.

My brother Paciano, who was ten years older than me, has been a second father to me. Though
an Indio, he is more generous and noble than all the Spaniards Put together.

As you may know, I even immortalized him in my first novel Noli Me Tangere as the wise
Pilosopo Tasio.

I, Rizal, was a mixture of races. In my veins flowed the blood of east and west- Negrito,
Indonesian, Malay, Chinese, Japanese, and Spanish.

My great-great grandfather on my father’s side was Domingo Lameo, a Chinese married to a

Chinese Christian Ines de la Rosa and assumed the surname Mercado, which means market in
English, in 1731. They had a son named Francisco Mercado who was married to a Chinese-
Filipino Mestiza, Cirila Bernacha. One of their sons, Juan Mercado, married Cirila Alejandro, a
Chinese-Filipino Mestiza. They had thirteen children and the youngest was my father.

My mother’s family descended from Lakan-Dula, the last native king of Tondo. Her great-
grandfather was Eugenio Ursua of Japanese ancestry who married a Filipina named Benigna.
Their daughter Regina, married Manuel de Quintos, a Filipino -Chinese lawyer. One of the
daughters of Attorney Quintos and Regina was Brigada, who married Lorenzo Alberto Alonso, a
prominent Spanish-Filipino Mestizo of Binan and one of their children was my mother, Teodora.

The real surname of my family was Mercado. We acquired our second surname Rizal as it was
given by Spanish alcalde mayor of Laguna, who was our family friend. Now that I have to use it,
it seems like I am an illegitimate son as my family have always preferred our old surname
Mercado.

Our house in Calamba was one of the distinguished stone houses during the Spanish times. It
was two-storey building, rectangular in shape, built of adobe stones and hard-woods, and
roofed with red tiles, and at the back was an azotea.

Behind our house were the poultry yard and a big garden of tropical fruit trees like balimbing
and macopa. By day, you will hear noises of children playing and songs of birds in the garden.
By night, it echoed with the dulcet notes of family prayers.

My family belonged to the principalia or noble class, a town aristocracy in Spanish Philippines.
My parents were able to live well through hard work and frugal living. My mother manages a
general good store and operates a small flour-mill and a home-made ham press. We also raised
pigs, chickens and turkey in our backyard. More than that we also harvest rice, corn, and
sugarcane from our farm rented from the Dominican order.

Also, our parents were able to build a stone house near the Calamba church where I was
baptized. We also owned a carriage which was a status symbol of the ilustrados in Spanish
Philippines, and a private library which consists of more than 1000 volumes and considered as
the largest library in our hometown. Aside from our businesses my parents also invest in our
education. My siblings and I were sent by our parents to colleges in Manila. Our family were
known as gracious hosts every town fiestas and other holidays. Beneath our roof, all are
welcome regardless of their color, rank, social position and economic status.

My relationship with my family was intimately close, we lived a simple, contented, and a happy
life. Although we live a good life, we were never spoiled by our parents. My parents are strict
and they trained us to love God, to behave well, to be obedient and to respect people especially
the older folks. They believe in the maxim “Spare the rod and spoil the child”, that’s why we
were punished every time we disobeyed them.

We always attend masses in our town church near us during Sundays and holidays. We always
pray together during sunset and before going to bed. And after our prayer, we kissed our
parents hands. Although our parents were strict, they allow us to play in our azotea and in our
garden. My elder siblings are allowed to play with the children of other family.
 CHAPTER 2

CALAMBA, THE HERO’S TOWN

I remember clearly in my vivid memory, the land I grew up, the land which belonged to the
Dominican order, it is the land of Calamba. Its scenic view reminds me of a verdant plain land
covered with irrigated rice fields and sugar lands. A few blocks away is the renowned Mount
Makiling in somnolent grandeur and beyond this is the province of Batangas. When you look to
the east, you can hear the waves of the water from the Laguna de Bay and you turn into your
north, you will see the light from the famous mountain shrine of the miraculous Lady of peace
and good voyage. I even wrote a poem when I was 15 in the year 1876, entitled In memory of
my town ( Un Recuerdo A Mi Pueblo). This poem reminds me of my childhood encounter, the
life of an innocent child walking into the forest lands and river banks, praying silently and
building my faith in the old churches of my hometown. This is a bittersweet goodbye to my
hometown, a farewell to my town and childhood memories but a vibrant hope for the future. For
I believe “He who does not know how to look back at where he came from will never get to his
destination.”

EARLIEST CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

I was a frail, feeble, and undersized child but I received a delicate love from my parents. My
father built a small nipa cottage that serves as my playhouse during daytime. Sometimes when I
was alone, I rekindle my love from nature, watching the clouds move around the sky and
listening to the birds’ sound with wonder and joy. When the nightfall, I was excited and thrilled
every time my mother would gather all the children at the house to pray the angelus. At moonlit,
I always look forward to hear many stories about fairies, tales about buried treasures, trees
blooming with diamonds and other phenomenal stories. Sometimes, when I do not want to take
the supper, my aya would tease me with the asuang, nuno, and other mythical creatures to take
me away if I would not eat my supper. I continue to recount this memory and “thus my heart fed
on sombre and melancholic thoughts so that even while still a child, I already wandered on
wings of fantasy in the high regions of the unknown”.

THE HERO’S FIRST SORROW

But all this vivid memory turns into grey as the life of Concepcion turn into ashes. Her life was
short lived so I shed her the first tears caused by deep grievance and love. The first sorrowful
days I’ve encounter is for my most loved little sister, Concha.

DEVOTED SON OF THE CHURCH

My mom was a devoted catholic so she taught me how to pray and when I was 3, I began take
part in our family prayer. When I was 5, I am able to read haltingly the spanish bible. When I
have the opportunity, I am fond of visiting churches, to pray, take pary to novenas and to join
religious processions. With this strong faith, they often called me as "manong jose" by the
"hermanos and heramanas terceras". One of the persons I admire the most is Father Leoncio
Lopez, the parish priest. Father Lopez fostered my love for scholarship and intellectual honesty.
He accompanies me through my journey, and the confidant of views on the injustices done to
the Filipino clergy.

PILGRIMAGE TO ANTIPOLO
On June 6, 1868, my father and I left Calamba to go on a pilgrimage to Antipolo. We went there
to fulfill my mother’s vow which was made when I was born. My mother could not accompany us
at that time because she just recently gave birth to my younger sister, Trining (Trinidad). It was
my first trip across Laguna de Bay and my first pilgrimage to Antipolo so I really felt excited
about it to the point that I wasn’t able to sleep the whole night as the casco we rode sailed
towards Pasig River. I’m in awe by the magnificence of the watery expanse and the silence of
the night. With what pleasure I saw the sunrise; for the first time I saw how the luminous rays
shone, producing a brilliant effect on the ruffled surface of the wide lake.
After praying at the shrine of the Virgin of Antipolo, we went to Manila to visit my Ate Neneng
(Saturnina) who was a boarding student at La Concordia College in Santa Ana at that time. It
was also my first time seeing Manila.

THE STORY OF THE MOTH

One night, all the family, except my mother and myself, went to bed early. We two remained
sitting alone. The candles had already been put out. The room was dimly lighted by a single
light of coconut oil. She later read me the fable of the young moth and the old one which left a
profound impression on me. I remember what my mom told me before I slept that night “See
that you do not behave like the young moth. Don't be disobedient, or you may get burnt as it
did.” The tragic fate of the young moth which died a martyr to its illusions left a deep impression
on my mind. Such a noble death, asserting that “to sacrifice one’s life for it,” meaning for an
ideal, is “worthwhile.” (I didn’t know, like that young moth, I was also fated to die as a martyr for
a noble ideal.)

ARTISTIC TALENTS
When I was younger, I really loved art. I guess I had a talent for it. At the age of five, I began to
make sketches with my pencil and to mound in clay and wax objects which attracted my fancy. 
There was a time that the town mayor asked me to paint in oil colors a new banner as the
previous one got spoiled. The town folks were delighted by my work and thought it was better
than the original one.
They said I had the soul of a genuine artist. I find great joy looking at nature. I also loved to ride
on a spirited pony my father bought me and take long walks in the meadows and lakeshore with
my black dog named Usman.
When I was about six years old, my sisters laughed at me for spending so much time making
my clay and wax images rather than playing. I kept silent as they laugh but before I left I told
them “All right laugh at me now! Someday when I die, people will make monuments and images
of me!”

FIRST POEM BY RIZAL

Aside from sketching and sculpturing, I also loved literature. I love to scribble verses on loose
sheets of paper and on the textbook of my sisters. My mother, who was a lover of literature,
noticed this and encouraged me to write poetry. By the age of eight, I wrote my first poem in my
native language entitled “Sa Aking Mga Kababata.” I remember a line I wrote for this piece “Ang
hindi magmahal sa kanyang salita, mahigit sa hayop at malansang isda.” At a young age, I
believed that our native language is important and it will surely strive for our liberty.
FIRST DRAMA BY RIZAL
I also remember writing my first dramatic work back when I was eight years old. It was a
Tagalog comedy and was first staged in a Calamba festival. If I remember clearly, a
gobernadorcillo from Paete, a town in Laguna, witnessed it. He liked it so much and even
purchased the manuscript for two pesos and brought it to his hometown.

RIZAL AS BOY MAGICIAN

Ever since I was little, I had been very interested in magic. I learned various tricks from making
a coin or paper disappear from my fingers, to making a handkerchief vanish from thin air. I
performed in front of my town folks with magic-lantern exhibitions, just like a shadow play! I’ve
also learned manipulating marionettes and do puppet shows.

LAKESHORE REVERIES
Back then, “I spent many, many hours of my childhood down on the shore of the lake, Laguna
de Bay. I was thinking of what was beyond. I was dreaming of what might be over on the other
side of the waves.” It was not new to see Guardia Civil lieutenant injuring unarmed villagers, no
restraint put upon brutality, and acts of violence were committed. “I asked myself if, in the lands
which lay across the lake, the people lived in this same way. If there they tortured any
countryman with hard and cruel whips merely on suspicion.” This was when I knew I had to fight
tyranny. “Although yet a child, my imagination was awakened and I made a vow dedicating
myself someday to avenge the many victims.” I believed that “someday, God will give me the
opportunity to fulfil my promise.”

INFLUENCES ON THE HERO’S BACKGROUND

Growing up, I had been influenced by many. I would say that hereditary influence was one of
them. From my Malayan ancestors, I inherited my love for freedom, my innate desire to travel
and indomitable courage. From my Chinese ancestors, I got my serious nature, frugality,
patience and love for children. My elegance of bearing, sensitivity to insult, and gallantry to
ladies came from my Spanish ancestors. Of course from my father I inherited a profound sense
of self-respect. And from my mother, I inherited my religious nature, spirit of self-sacrifice, and
specially my passion for arts and literature.
My environment has also influenced me as a person. The scenic beauties of Calamba and the
beautiful garden of my family stimulated my artistic and literary talents. The things and people I
grew up with made me who I am. I have three uncles who I really admire - Tio Jose Alberto,
who inspired me to develop my artistic ability; Tio Manuel, who encouraged me to develop my
frail body by means of physical exercise; and Tio Gregorio, who intensified my voracious
reading of good books. I also admired Father Leoncio Lopez, the old and learned parish priest
of Calamba. He fostered my love for scholarship and honesty.
Above all these influences is the aid of Divine Providence. I cannot attain greatness without my
creator. God endowed me with versatile gifts of a genius, vibrant spirit of a nationalist and
valiant heart to sacrifice for a noble cause.
 CHAPTER 3

THE HERO’S FIRST TEACHER

My first teacher is my mother. She like literature and is better at speaking Spanish than me. She
is a mathematician. She taught me how to read and write. She trained us in cleaning the
household. She taught us how to pray. On my mother’s lap, I learned at the age of three the
alphabet and the prayers. She taught me how to read and say haltingly the humble prayers
which I raised fervently to God. She is the one who gave me wisdom. If not for her, I don’t know
what would happen in my education and future. She is the one who discovered my talent in
poetry and thus encourage me to write poems. I love how she taught the ABCs to me. She
related many stories to it that lighten the monotony of memorizing the ABCs and also stimulate
my imagination. As I grew older, my parents employed private tutors to give me lessons at
home. The first was Maestro Celestino, second was Maestro Lucas Padua, then later, my
father’s former classmate, Leon Monroy, became my tutor. This old teacher lived at our home.
He instructed me Spanish and Latin. Unfortunately, he did not live long. He died five months
later. After Leon Monroy, my tutor, died, my parents decided to send me to a private school in
Biñan.

JOSE GOES TO BIÑAN SCHOOL

One Sunday afternoon in June 1869, after kissing my parent’s hands and a tearful parting from
my sisters, I left Calamba for Biñan. My brother Paciano, who also acted as my second father,
accompanied me. We rode in a carromata and after one and one-half hours’ drive, and it was
almost night and the moon was about to rise, we finally reached our destination. We proceeded
to our aunt’s house where I would lodge. At that same night, me and my cousin Leandro went
sightseeing in the town. But instead of enjoying the sights, I became depressed because of
homesickness. In the moonlight, I remembered my home town, my idolized mother, and my
solicitous sisters. Ah, how sweet to me was Calamba, my own town, in spite of the fact, that it
was not as wealthy as Biñan.

FIRST DAY IN BIÑAN SCHOOL

The next morning, my brother Paciano brought me to the school of Maestro Justiniano Aquino
Cruz. The school was in the house of the teacher, which was a small nipa. Paciano knew the
teacher quite well because he had been a pupil under him before. He introduced me to the
teacher, after which he departed to return to Calamba. Immediately, I was assigned a seat in
the class. The teacher asked me, “Do you know Spanish?”, A little, sir, I replied. “Do you know
Latin?” A little, sir., I replied. The boys in the class, especially Pedro, the teacher’s son, laugh at
my answers. The teacher sharply stopped all noise and began the lessons of the day. Maestro
Justiniano Aquino was tall, thin, long-necked, with a sharp nose and a body slightly bent
forward, and he used to wear a sinamay shirt, woven by the skilled hands of the women of
Batangas. He knew by heart the grammars of Nebrija and Gainza.

FIRST SCHOOL BRAWL

In the afternoon of my first day in school, when the teacher was having his siesta, I met the
bully, Pedro. I was angry at him for making fun of me during my conversation with the teacher in
the morning. I challenge him to a fight, which he readily accepted. Pedro may be thinking that
he can easily beat me as I was smaller and younger. We wrestled furiously in the classroom.
Having learned the art of wrestling from my athletic Tio Manuel, I defeated Pedro, who was
bigger than me. For this feat, I became popular among my classmates. After the class in the
afternoon, a classmate named Andres Salandanan challenged me to an arm-wrestling match.
We went to a sidewalk of a house and wrestled with our arms. I have a weaker arm. I’ve lost
and nearly cracked my head on the sidewalk. In succeeding days, I had other fights with the
boys of Biñan. I am not quarrelsome by nature, but I never run away from a fight.

PAINTING LESSONS IN BIÑAN

Near the school was the house Juancho, an old painter, who was the father-in-law of the school
teacher. I was lured by my loved for painting, making me spent many leisure hours at the
painter’s studio. Old Juancho freely gave me lessons in drawing and painting. He was
impressed by my artistic talent. Together with Jose Guevarra, my classmate, who also loved
painting, we became apprentice of old Juancho. Jose Guevarra and I improved our art, so that
in due time we became the favorite painters of the class.
My daily life in Bińan contributes a lot to who I am today. It strengthen my body and soul. I
usually go to church masses and eat my favorite fruit Mabolo after which is very much against to
the claim of the church that I am an anti-Christ. My breakfast is generally consist of rice and two
dried small fish that is why living with no enough money in my pocket in Europe was not really a
problem for I grew up with a simple life in the Philippines. But there was time that I took some
special food to eat which I never done before but I remember how I gate crash in one of an
event in Madrid just to had a food to survive.
I love to draw but I never knew that I will be the best student among the Bińan boys in our batch.
So much gratitude for my mother for she taught me Spanish, Latin and many other subjects. But
this wont always brought good in me, for my classmates got insecure. It reach to the point that
they made up stories about me and tell this to our maestro that is why even though I am a good
boy, the day was unusual when I was not laid on a bench and received five or six blows.
But my year and a half in Bińan is truly a worth and wonderful journey in my life. But I was never
had a chance to go back, since my sister Saturnina told me that the steamer Talim was ready to
give me a lift back to Calamba and they decided to enroll me in Ateneo De Municipal in Manila.
But before this, a tragic part of my life happened. My mother was arrested by the guardia civil
and given approval by the gobernadorcillo whose been a very close and very welcome in our
family. She was accused to have been in part with his brother Alberto on poisoning his wife
which in fact just fallacious story made by this evil girl who have strong connection with the
people in charge. My mother had walked 50km with her old age as a punishment with 2 and a
half years in prison. She was unjustly arrested and punished and it so hard to admit that those
people whom you treated so well will do this hideous act against us. And this was also
happened in Madrid, where my brothers betrayed me whom I treated with so much respect.
Four months before I went to Manila. I will never forget this part of my life when the three fathers
Gomez, Burgos, and Zamora was unjustly executed. This made me hate more the Spanish
ruling in my beloved country and this is the reason why I made El Filibustersimo after seventeen
years to commemorate the martyrdom of this three Filipino friars to awaken the nationalism that
lies within each of us, to fight for our freedom, to fight for our land.