From the sound of it, the island of Bohol was one of the last places in the world that you wouldn't want to invade.
From a sightseer's point of view, certainly, it had everything -- had there been any sightseers: beautiful weather, beautiful beaches, interesting and ornamental old churches, a sparkling sea.
It even had souvenirs: native mats and straw hats and exotic fruit. Its people were picturesque too, a handsome, hard-working, placable folk who were sometimes known as the "Chinamen of the Philippines," in part because they were (many of them) ethnic Chinese -- but also because their industry and their skill as traders were a source of envy.
In 1898 the island had become its own country, and the people of Bohol had governed it with tact and moderation and shown a broad-backed self-reliance in rebuffing an invasion from Cebu.
It was the sort of place that could make you wistful. And "Indeed," confessed George Scriven, thinking back, "if I were ever tempted to play Robinson Crusoe Bohol would be my island." All that was missing really, from a sightseer's point of view, was hard currency. All that was missing was an American owner.
source: A Diary of Norman Cameron, U.S. Soldier 1900-1902
Duke University
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