MANILA, Philippines -- It's on the Biñan plaza, a house with upturned tile roof Chinese-style. With shuttered capiz windows and gutted interior, it awaits fate barricaded by billboards and sidewalk vendors, bubbling cauldron of arroz caldo smack against the front door when I visited.
It was the home of Don José Alberto (d 29 October 1875), half-brother of Doña Teodora Alonzo, José Rizál's mother. He was reputedly Laguna's richest man and Philippine representative to the Cortés (Spanish parliament). Hong Kong Governor John Bowring describes his 1858 visit:
"... Flags, branches of flowering forest trees, and other devices, were displayed. First we passed between files of youths, then of maidens; and through a triumphal arch we reached the handsome dwelling of a rich mestizo, ... He spoke English, having been educated at Calcutta, and his house-a very large one-gave abundant evidence that he had not studied in vain the arts of domestic civilization. ... Great crowds were gathered together in the square which fronts the house of Don José Alberto. ... There was much firing of guns, and a pyrotechnic display when the sun had gone down, and a large fire [hot air] balloon, bearing the inscription, 'The people of Biñan to their illustrious visitors,' was successfully inflated, and soaring aloft, was lost sight of in the distance ..."
Alberto family tradition relates that Don José returned from Europe in 1871 to find his wife absent, enjoying to the max her affair with a Spanish Guardia Civil officer. Located after three days, Don José locked her up in a room, allowing access only to Doña Teodora who brought her meals. The "vile woman" (Rizál's words) wrote a note accusing her husband and sister-in-law of poisoning her, wrapped it around her ring and threw it out the window to a passerby who brought it to her paramour.
Alcalde Antonio Vivencio del Rosario went along and arrested Doña Teodora. She was released from jail two years later only because the Governor-General was charmed by the dancing of her youngest daughter Soledad. Asked by the Governor-General what he could give her, Soledad replied, "Mi madre."
The mansion's plaza frontage was about 50 meters wide and looked like two houses with a small azotea in between, above the main door. Behind it was a patio, framed by two shorter side wings and on the far side, by a cistern and stables with a long azotea above. The left wing burned down some years back and the extant building is the part to the right of the entrance (built in the late 18th or early 19th century) formerly with bedrooms, comedor and kitchen. The sala, bedrooms and chapel were in the burnt left wing (late 19th century), now an undistinguished concrete building.
The surviving structure is empty and yields no income. The owner is unwilling to invest the millions needed for adaptive re-use maybe as a "heritage mini-mall." He wants it torn down and replaced with a multi-story commercial building. Heritage folk want it preserved. Last year, the City announced its intention to expropriate.
Comments are cordially invited, addressed to walalang@mb.com.ph.
