MANILA, Philippines - At the turn of the 20th century, Sta. Ana in Manila was what Tagaytay is today. The country’s well-heeled families, who lived in Binondo and other parts of Manila, built their vacation homes along the river. They would spend the holidays to enjoy the cool breeze and the bucolic scene of the waterway under the azure skies.

Built in 1898, this 15-bedroom mansion, which stood on a 6,000-square meter lot on Lamayan Street, was one of the most popular “haunts.”

The two-story house had vaulted ceilings, cross ventilation and two sweeping spiral staircases. Each tile was marked “1899, Belgium” and the walls, massive doors and bedroom floors were built with solid narra.

The stained-glass windows bore Art Deco designs. Decorative grills lent security and privacy.

On the second floor, there was an open-air, 900-square meter dining room enclosed by wrought iron grills.

Joseph Arcache, when he acquired the house in later years, had the letter “A” patterned on the grill work.

Joseph built his wealth in real estate. Because of his vision and keen business acumen, he was trusted by the country’s high and mighty.

His buddy was J. Amado Araneta whom he advised to acquire a huge property in a grassland which would later be called Cubao. Arcache also served as political adviser to Philippine presidents, from Quezon to Macapagal. When then Sen. Ferdinand Marcos first thought of running for president, Arcache would frequent the Marcos residence.

Arcache’s power and influence allowed the family to live in high style. The household staff consisted of five chaffeurs, among them an American, Alvin Arquette, who would marry the personal hairdresser of Arcache’s beauteous wife, Mary.

New life

It was 1946, and as the country rebuilt itself from the destruction wrought by war, the Arcaches were starting a new life in Sta. Ana, Manila. For many years, the family had lived in Donada, Pasay, the enclave of the rich before the war.

For a change of scenery, Arcache bought this mansion along the scenic Pasig river from a wealthy Chinese businessman named Dy Buncio.

The Arcache family was in good company; next door lived the American ambassador, and the rest were mestizos. The family was oblivious to the street’s name, “Lamayan,” meaning “wake,” and the omen it denoted.

As the furniture was being transported to the home, Arquette stayed in one of the rooms on the ground floor for security. One night, he heard heavy footsteps in the master bedroom above his room.

He thought big rats made the noise. He’d hear the sounds every night; eventually he made them out to be footsteps of one clad in boots. Thinking there was an intruder, he went to the room. He heard the footsteps approaching the door. He opened the door to surprise the intruder, but to his surprise, there was nothing but darkness.

That was the first intimation of supernatural occurrences in the Sta. Ana mansion.

Mysterious old man

The next day, Arquette told his master about the footsteps. Joseph told him to keep mum.

Life went on. The Arcache residence became a favorite party place of the family’s friends.

Every weekend, the family would entertain guests at the 26-seat dining table, made of solid narra.

While each member of the family had his or her own room, the other eight rooms were for friends on a sleepover.

Everything seemed hunky-dory until strange episodes recurred.

One night, Arcache’s daughter, Queenie—the older sister of Maurice, who would become the country’s premier society columnist— had just come home from a party. It was Joseph’s practice to see if the children were already in bed in their rooms.

As Queenie tucked herself in bed, she heard her bedroom door open and saw a silver-haired man in a barong looking at her. She thought it was her father.

Then the man walked towards the balcony—and right through the balcony door.

Queenie shrieked and bolted out of the room, “I saw a ghost!”

Joseph awoke and after hearing her story, dismissed it yet again.

The family had a cook, a migrant from Macau, who would come every morning to bake the pan de sal.

One morning, he was found unconscious, sprawled on the floor outside the kitchen. When the patriarch woke him up, the cook shivered and told him that he was resigning after serving them for 15 years.

Earlier, the cook had seen a man sitting on the steps with his head lowered on his knees. He thought it was Louie Bernasconi, the eldest of Mary’s sons from a previous marriage, who had been locked out after coming home from a party.

When the man looked up, the cook fainted at the sight of his ghoulish face.

Maurice’s grandmother once told him that ghosts liked to appear in mirrors. As the statuesque abuela was washing her face, she saw a taller gentleman peering over her shoulder.

For the longest time, there were sightings of a tall, aging gentleman clad in barong tagalog and black pants, or in horse-riding attire.

Cursing God

Old parish priests from Sta. Ana church told stories about Dy Buncio, who would ride his horse or a carriage from Binondo to inspect the construction of his home. He died when he was in his late 40s, but not, as lore would have it, after cursing God for a life interrupted.

There were also speculations that he was so attached to his possessions that he kept coming back to his home.

Another time, Pearlie, Maurice’s younger sister, came home with Rene Knecht from a formal affair. Maurice and his friends were to follow them later.

She asked Rene to escort her in the living room while waiting for Maurice. Rene was regaling her with stories into the wee hours.

Suddenly he heard a music box playing. Pearlie shivered and told him that the family didn’t own one.

Knecht dashed to his car with Pearlie behind him. As the guards opened the gate and Rene turned on the engine, the couple heard heavy bangings on the fender.

The spirit was offended, they thought. They fled to the farthest corner down the street and waited for Maurice to come home.

Other spirits

Maurice and his sisters believed there were spirits other than the old man.

Mary Arcache had just finished her evening prayers in front of the altar, decked with life-size santos. She suddenly heard a woman whimpering.

Mary turned and saw a chemise-clad woman sitting on the stairway, her head bowed. Thinking it was the househelp, she walked to the woman to ask what the matter was. The woman kept silent. The moment she looked at Mary, her image flitted down the stairs and outside the window.

Another time, Maurice’s newly-married sister, Olivia, asked two household help to keep watch outside her room. She didn’t want to be alone waiting up for her husband.

As the two maids sat under the stairs, they heard rude sounds of “Sssst! Sssss!”

From the window, they saw an old man looking stern and wagging his finger at them.

Their screams awakened Joseph who came down with a gun. The next day, they resigned.

Minnie’s wet nightmare

Attending a merienda cena held in the garden, well-known socialite Minnie Osmeña had to excuse herself to go to Pearlie’s bathroom. While there, she heard successive knocks on the door.

“Pearlie, don’t play jokes,” she said. The pounding persisted. Recalled Maurice, now with a chuckle: “Minnie stopped her weewee, stood up and opened the door. There was nobody outside. She screamed and ran down with her panties halfway down her legs.”

It wasn’t only the Arcaches who were known for their fabulous parties. Apparently even the spooks had their own.

Sometimes when they’d come home from a party, they’d hear voices as if a party was going on in the dining room, and the clinking of crystals and tinkering of cutlery.

The majordoma and her husband who slept in a room under the dining room also heard chattering and the jangle and clatter of plates and silverware. “The dead are partying upstairs,” they’d tell each other.

As the husband stood up to peer, the couple heard a crash of silverware on the floor. Outside their door, one of the narra boxes containing the silverware had mysteriously dropped on the floor. Yet, there were no signs of theft in the house.

The house wasn’t just a place for spooks. Electricians would discover snakes under the roof. It turned out that at the turn of the century, the snakes were placed there to eat the rats.

Joseph decided to leave them alone since they never bothered the family and protected the household.

Maurice spooked

Maurice had his share of encounters:

“I usually write my columns after midnight. Then I heard this heavy knock on the door. I said,‘Come in.’ The banging continued. ‘Come in,’ I kept saying. But it went on. I opened the door and it was black. I closed the door, switched on the lights and turned on the radio to full blast. I screamed, ‘Pleeease leave me aloooone!’” he recalled as his creaseless face emoted mock horror.

One bedtime, Maurice heard the shower turned on and the toilet paper rolling continuously. “I inspected the bathroom and it was as dry as the Sahara desert,” he said.

Maurice’s longtime companion, photographer Alex Van Hagen, didn’t believe in ghosts. One time in Maurice’s room, he heard the sound of heavy boots coming from the floor above him. He told Maurice there was a burglar.

But as if going through walls, the boots marched across two empty rooms which used to be occupied by Maurice’s sisters, who had gotten married by then and didn’t live in the mansion anymore. Eventually, Van Hagen got used to these inexplicable occurences.

In the ’80s and ’90s, the Arcache mansion became a Halloween staple. When the Pasig river cruise was organized as an alternative mode of transportation, a tour guide taking passengers from the Jones Bridge to Guadalupe would point out the Sta. Ana mansion as a haunted house.

Back in the ’80s, Maurice even asked Inner Mind columnist Jaime Licauco to look into the hauntings. Licauco’s chest tightened as he felt the eerie presence of spirits in the master bedroom. He noted that spirits were all over the place.

The helpers once saw an image of a headless woman or three ghosts sitting in the garden.

Licauco explained that some of the spirits were in transit. As for the partying, “they don’t think they’re dead. They continue to do normal activities.”

He observed, “Maurice had gotten used to them. His attitude was live and let live.”

Heart attack, injuries

The Sta. Ana mansion became an empty nest when most of the siblings moved out with their families. Maurice and Alex were left with seven maids, a cook and a driver. The Arcache siblings sold the house to a Chinese businesswoman.

“I told my sisters: ‘If the house is dismantled, we keep the wood doors, stained glass, wrought iron grills and the tiles. Stipulate that in the contract,’” said Maurice.

The condition was never honored. As the house was being demolished, the engineer supervising the demolition suffered a heart attack. As the second floor was being dismantled, the contractor broke his two legs after a fall on the site; he quit his job. The architect died of a heart attack .

According to Maurice, the new owner tried to sell the property but in vain. Maurice has never returned to his former address.

The house may be gone now, but, according to Licauco, the spooky vibrations of the salvaged architecture may have been transferred to several new owners.

Abangan.