Remembering the old "La Naval" - A Special Feature

"Ginintunag alaala" by Rafael del Casal

Written by: Lourdes Syquia Bautista
Published in Philippine Daily Inquirer on October 6, 2014

Editor's note: The Rosary month of October is one of the most celebrated months in our country due to the numerous festivities that are held nationwide in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary as Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary. All of these celebrations, the Grand festivity of La Naval de Manila stood out as the most opulent and the grandest of them all - historically and culturally speaking. At present, the Virgin's fiesta and its iconic gala procession, dubbed as "Procesion de las Procesiones" [Procession of all Processions], is one of the most awaited and often copied in the country. 

The vicaria of Our Lady of La Naval de Manila
was used for the re-enactment of the Old
Intramuros procession for the film remake
of "Ang Larawan"

While I was preparing for the annual festivities from wardrobe for the annual procession (Because as what are forefathers say, we have to look and be in our best on her fiesta.), religious paraphernalia fot the novena, besa manto and procession, gadgets for documentation, some important stuff like umbrellas, abanicos, medallas, and other material provisions. and of course the important spiritual preparations like confession, joining the novenas, spiritual meditations for the grand feast to celebrate the fiesta with the soul in good condition. 

While reading some books and articles for a latest feature on this blog, I came across this article published in "Philippine Daily Inquirer" about the celebrations of La Naval de Manila in Old Intramuros before the Second World War narrated by one of the few "lucky ones" who witness the fiesta's grandeaur in Old Intramuros. I just can't help but to be amazed with what I was reading and imagining what was it like back in the day and then suddenly a screen grab of the re-enactment of her procession in Old Intramuros from the 2017 remake of  Nick Joaquin's "Ang Larawan" pops up on my phone that added to my lingering thoughts on the old yet iconic procession. At the same time, I felt sadness on the reality that came afterwards that almost erased the venerable image and its surrounding culture in popular consciousness - if it wasn't through the efforts of the Dominican friars and the Virgin's devotees.

Without further ado, I am sharing on this blog this nostalgic piece that gives us how the La Naval celebrations were celebrated back in the old days so we can further appreciate the current celebrations that is held in the present Santo Domingo Church in Quezon City.

The Virgin of La Naval on her carozza triunfal inside Old Santo
Domingo Church in Intramuros, Manila

To me, October invariably brings memories of “La Naval de Manila”—a novena and procession celebrated to honor Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary at Santo Domingo Church. I’m not referring to the one in Quezon City but to the old Gothic Santo Domingo in Intramuros that was destroyed during the Liberation of Manila in 1945.

Once again I am clad in the long beige-and-red uniform of Santa Catalina College and attending the novena of La Naval. To Filipinos, especially of that time, October was La Naval and La Naval was the fiesta par excellence, at least as far as drawing power was concerned.

As early as four o’clock in the morning the huge bells would start tolling. But long before that there would be early Mass-goers waiting for the massive doors to open. Masses would continue nonstop at the main and side altars until almost 10. (Remember that we fasted from midnight. There were no afternoon Masses then.) [Editor's note: This practice was prescribed before the Mass in the Tridentine Rite prior to the reforms of the Second Vatican Council in the 1970's] High Mass was at eight. All these Masses were attended by thousands.

A rare photograph of Nuestra Señora del Santisimo
Rosario - La Naval de Manila in her original altar
in Old Santo Domingo Church in Intramuros

Afterwards the crowd would dwindle, only to return in the afternoon for the novena. Devotees came from all over. Out-of-town buses from Bulacan, Pampanga, Rizal, and Laguna crowded the patio; calesas transported people from nearby suburbs, and residents from Santa Ana, Malate and Tondo, riding on tranvias, alighted at Plaza Lawton and then crossed the Sunken Gardens and the Muralla to get to the church. From black limousines descended society matrons in their elegant ternos, and aristocratic gentlemen in their white de hilo suits. And all of them crowded the church, praying the rosary aloud, singing the hymns, reciting the novena prayers, and listening to the sermons which, to my recollection, were never shorter than 30 minutes. (For your information, all these prayers and songs were said in Spanish and Latin. The sermon was likewise in Spanish, delivered in the florid manner of the times and from the pulpit without a microphone.)

The climax of the celebration was the procession in the afternoon of the second Sunday of October. One particular procession I will never forget was when I was 12.

We, the students of Santa Catalina, dressed in our white gala uniforms, with veils on our heads and lighted candles in our hands, headed the long procession. My schoolmates and I walked in front of and behind the image of St. Catherine of Siena. We recited the rosary, sang hymns, and marched self-consciously to the music played by the Letran band.

I cannot describe the pride and excitement I felt in being part of that retinue. Looking sideways I saw people lined three-deep on the pavements, reciting the rosary, lighted candles in hand. Glancing up I saw faces crowding the wide windows of entresuelos and second floors, all reciting the Ave Maria. The deep, abiding faith of the devotees I could almost taste in my mouth.

The 1989 fiesta souvenir program cover
by Rafael del Casal

We arrived at the patio of the church way ahead of the others and stayed by the side to await the arrival of the image of Our Lady. I saw the carrozas of famous Dominican saints being pulled by sweating men, the decorated images swaying in the night whenever there was a rut underneath.

And then, at last, after a long time, I heard the music coming from the UST band signaling her imminent arrival. Finally I caught a glimpse of her statue soaring above the multitude of devotees. In front of her, beside her, behind her walked the Dominican priests in their white habits and black capes looking like the brave medieval knights of old, jealously protecting their Lady.

Before I knew it, the surge of humanity had carried me along with them inside the church where I knelt in one tiny corner trying to catch my breath. Incense assailed my nostrils; "O Salutaris" and "Tantum Erg"o throbbed in my ears. Tiny bells rang and I looked up to see the Holy Eucharist floating in a haze above me. I was overwhelmed by a spirit of devotion and reverence I had never felt before.

The Holy Eucharist was lowered and I saw the image of Our Lady, in all her splendor, regal, majestic, wearing her crown of jewels, holding her scepter, her rosary, scented by thousands of roses and illumined by hundreds of candles. In her arm she held her Divine Son, who wasn’t looking at her, however, but at us, as though saying, “I am not only hers, but yours as well.”

The La Naval procession beside the Old Santo Domingo Church
in Intramuros

A strong feeling of joy gripped me, held me spellbound, and at that precise moment the plaintive strains of "Adios, Reina del Cielo" [Editor's note: The actual song title is "Despedida a la Virgen"] sung by the tiples filled the whole church. I was overcome and the tears fell unbidden. When I could see again I looked up, but the curtain had already been lowered, hiding her from view.

When the crowd thinned, I went out the door and was met by a cold blast of October air. I knew I had to hurry; it was late and my parents were waiting for me on Cabildo Street for dinner at the house of Don Paco Gonzalez, my father’s best friend.

I tarried in the patio, nevertheless, not wanting the spell to be broken. I lingered by the fruit stalls, smelled chestnuts roasting on the fire, heard the lanzones vendors chanting as they counted fruit by the hundreds, and from the corner of my eye caught sight of the Ferris wheel going round and round…

And then, once more, the huge bells started pealing and the sounds reverberated in my heart. A sense of wellbeing enveloped me and I felt protected, secure and happy. I felt that I loved everyone. I thought my people to be lovely people and my country the best place in the world.

Lourdes Syquia Bautista, 90, is a retired professor of the University of Santo Tomas.

Reference:

Bautista, Lourdes Syquia, "Remembering the old "La Naval"", Retrieved from  https://opinion.inquirer.net/79062/remembering-the-old-la-naval#ixzz61JFesvtb on October 1, 2019.

Special credits to the owner of the photographs and artworks used in this blogpost
+AM+DG+
iViva Virgen de La Naval!