There could be no form of government quite so bad as that of the fatal colonial system of Spain, as illustrated in the Philippines and in the Americas.
General Aguinaldo was neither remote nor inaccessible.

His headquarters were in an Indian village, just across the bay, named Bacoor, and in less than an hour a swift steam launch carried Major Bell, of the bureau of information, a gallant and most industrious and energetic officer, and myself, to water so shallow that we had to call canoes to land in front of a church that before the days of Dewey was riddled by the fire of Spanish warships because occupied by insurgents.

The walls and roof showed many perforations.

The houses of the village were of bamboo, and there were many stands along the hot and dusty street on which fruit was displayed for sale.
The General's house was about as solid a structure as earthquakes permit, its roof of red tile instead of the usual straw.

His rooms were in the second story, reached by a broad stairway, at the top of which was a landing of liberal dimensions and an ante-room.