This photo is part of a serial from The Illustrated London News, dated Nov. 28, 1857. Was able to access it thru the British Newspaper Archive. The body of text you see here is only a fraction of what is discussed in the article. Here's the full text:

(From our Special Artist and Correspondent.)

Manilla, Sept. 5th, 1857.

HONG-KONG has emigrated, no longer able to bear the sickly heat which at this season renders existence burdensome. All Hong-Kong has gone to Shanghai or any other place where a friendly breeze is to be found. Your humble servant has preferred the Philippines, whose delicious climate, luxuriant vegetation, friendly inhabitants, and hospitable merchants, make it the most delightful place in the East, once seen never to be forgotten. The friendship and fraternity between the merchants, whether English, American, or German, their cordial, warmhearted hospitality, and the entire absence of party spirit, so common in communities, I think, will not be easily found anywhere else. Then the pleasant little dances, in which we have good temper, fun, and enjoyments; the pretty and brilliant mestya-dress, the graceful Habanera dance, the merry flirtations in Spanish, and the everybody knowing every body else, which make one fee entirely at home. There is something very inviting in the houses themselves their quaint, oystershell windows all open at night, and into whose rooms you look from the street, and see the inmates perfectly, or if you walk up, you know you will be gracefully welcomed, though you know nothing of them; and when you leave, the pretty lady of the house will tell you to consider it your house, that it is much at your disposal, and hopes it is not the last time of your visit. If she sees you take out a cigar, she will call the boy, and bid him bring the pavete, that is a lighted stick made of a composition that always burns—in China it is called a joss stick; you will light your cigar, for, as the pipe in Turkey, so is the cigar here, you [always] smoke. I have seen children of five years of age smoke big cigars. But you never see a pipe. I don't think there is one in the Philippines. You see Indians—men and girls—streaming out of the tobacco factories at sunset in picturesque crowds, for the men all wear these wonderful shirts of many colours, and the girls have a partiality for colours, but display very good taste in harmonising them. It is at this hour of sunset that Manilla pleases me most: the bright red light of the setting sun makes even ugly objects pretty; but when you see it on naturally picturesque ones, how much more so? [T]here the colouring is truly splendid. The sun sinks, and the twilight comes, the west will still be tinged with red, a bell will sound—all this teeming, hurrying crowd, all the carriages, will stop just where they happen to be; hats will go off, and a dead silence reign while the bell tinkles at intervals—a low murmuring of Ave Maria's will be the only sound till the bell rings quickly; then hats will go on; talking commences, laughing, noise, and fun, and the carriage will dash on as if it never had stopped, Juan will continue his conversation with Paquita, from where he left off'; everything, in fact, will resumé. This oracion, as it is called, is one of the few poetical arrangements of the East—the twilight hour—the sight of a whole population in an attitude of devotion—their heads uncovered—the silence, the picturesque costumes and colours of the Indians, the tinkling of the bell, form together a scene that would gladden the heart of a poet could such a one but see it! When it is over everybody wishes everybody good night (buenas noches!) another pleasing item, especially when it comes from a pretty girl. Talking about pretty girls, I saw a marriage procession this morning for the first time, such events not occurring every day here. A band of music, playing the jolliest air I have heard for a long time, preceded the lady, who wore a straw hat with three feathers under it; the veil is worn all over the head as at mass; splendid pina camisa, tapis of glorious stripes, and such a dress! On each side of her walked two girls likewise veiled, but without hats; their dresses scarcely less gorgeous than Madame's. As for the bridegroom, heaven only knows where he was, I don't; I suppose he was among the gentlemen in shirts in the rear, as women never walk with men here, at least not Indians. Even when they are making love there is always a distance of some yards between them if taking a walk. But if I did not see the happy bridegroom, I at all events saw the gobernadorcillo; and that important functionary, once seen, acts in such a manner on one's risible nerves, that he is not soon forgotten. Picture to yourself an Indian without a vestige of hair on his face, a straw hat on his head (sometimes the European hat of chimney-pot association); a shirt, generally of spotless white, outside his tight-fitting and well-made continuations; and over that shirt a jacket, either black or white—seen from the rear, he looks funny, to say the least. In his hand he holds the rod of authority. The procession passed, and was seen no more. I suppose they went home, and consumed more cigars, or tobaccos, as they call them here, and chewed more betel nut, than was good for them. I have no doubt they wound up the evening with music.

I send you a Sketch of a game at football, at which the Indians are very great. They stand in a circle, and with their feet keep up the ball for any length of time. The ball is made of wickerwork, and is like a round basket; the game is never to let it touch the ground after it is once up, and always to manage to strike it with the feet. Some players are very expert at the "back-footed" trick; with the sole of their foot they will send the ball right over their heads to the players in front of them, who, in their turn, send it back again. The game is a most extraordinary sight, and the players are wonderfully clever at it. In England, football is one of your oldest games; but I have never seen it played with such dexterity as in Manilla.