But beyond these well-documented sites and stories lies a lesser-known chapter in the city’s past, one that remains largely overlooked in discussions of the Philippines’ early nationalist movements. This is the story of Andres Novales, a name rarely mentioned in mainstream historical discourse but whose defiant actions helped shape the nation’s consciousness.
Born around 1795 into an affluent family in the Captaincy General of the Philippines, then part of the Viceroyalty of New Spain (Mexico), Andres Novales grew up enjoying privileges unknown to most Filipinos under Spanish rule. His father was a captain in the Spanish Army, and his mother belonged to a well-established family. Accounts suggest Novales was a Filipino creole of Mexican descent.
From an early age, he was destined for military service. He enrolled as a cadet at just nine years old and was promoted to lieutenant by age 14. Like many young officers, he was eager to prove himself in battle. When the Peninsular War broke out, a conflict triggered by Napoleon Bonaparte’s invasion of Spain, Novales sought permission to fight against the French invaders. He was granted his request but was demoted to the rank of a volunteer soldier upon arriving in Spain. Nevertheless, he fought with determination and courage, eventually returning to the Philippines as a captain.
Over time, Novales became deeply disillusioned with the colonial administration, particularly its discriminatory treatment of Filipino creole officers. His resentment grew when the Spanish government began replacing creole officers with peninsular Spaniards, soldiers born in Spain. Many creoles believed they were being deliberately sidelined from promotions due to racial prejudice. Those who protested were either exiled or reassigned to remote, undesirable postings.
Novales himself was sent to Mindanao, under the pretext of fighting piracy. This forced exile did little to dampen his revolutionary spirit. He eventually found a way back to Manila, where he began conspiring with other discontented creole officers. Among them was Sub-Lieutenant Ruiz, along with officers from the King’s Regiment, primarily composed of Mexicans, creoles, and mestizos from the newly independent nations of South America.
On the night of June 1, 1823, Novales and his allies launched their rebellion. With the support of 800 Filipino troops, they stormed key government buildings, capturing the Palacio del Gobernador, The Manila Cathedral, and the Cabildo (City Hall). Their primary target was Governor-General Juan Antonio Martínez, but upon failing to locate him, they instead assassinated Lieutenant Governor Mariano Fernandez de Folgueras, the very official responsible for the controversial replacement of creole officers.
Emboldened by their initial success, Novales’ troops marched through Intramuros, their shouts echoing through the streets: “¡Viva el Emperador Novales!” (Long live Emperor Novales!)
Even local townspeople joined in as they pressed toward Fort Santiago, the final stronghold of Spanish forces. However, in a tragic twist, the fort’s commandant, Novales’ own brother Mariano Novales, refused to open the gates for the rebels.
Soon, Spanish reinforcements arrived from Pampanga, swiftly crushing the uprising.
The following day, June 2, 1823, Novales, Ruiz, and 21 of their fellow officers were executed by firing squad near Puerto del Postigo’s gardens. In his final moments, Novales declared that their sacrifice would serve as an example in the fight for liberty.
His brother Mariano, whose loyalty to Spain prevented the colonial government’s collapse, was spared execution due to public appeals for clemency. However, he was awarded only a P14 monthly pension, an amount insufficient for survival. Haunted by guilt over his role in his brother’s death, Mariano Novales suffered a severe mental breakdown, from which he never recovered.
Though his reign as “emperor” lasted less than a day and he lacked formal legitimacy, Novales’ actions carried profound implications. His fight against injustice, racial discrimination, and colonial oppression foreshadowed the nationalist movements that would emerge later in the 19th century.
Historians argue that his failed revolt served as an early lesson, one that revealed the necessity of strategic leadership, broader public support, and organized resistance. Future revolutionaries, including José Rizal and the Katipunan, would build on these lessons, leading to the 1896 Philippine Revolution and the eventual struggle for independence.
The name Andres Novales may not be widely celebrated in Philippine history, but his defiance sparked a flame that helped illuminate the path toward freedom.
