The Bull-Fight

From the time of no date, when Hercules was lured to the Peninsula by the lowing of the cattle of Geryon, the bull has been the National emblem of Spain. In other words they own him, and have a right to do what they please with him. There is evidence that bull-fights were a favorite amusement in Spain long before Julius Caesar fought, near Cordova, the year before his death, one of the decisive battles of the world's history, the battle of Munda, 45 B. C. Representations of them appear upon Spanish coins which antedate the Roman occupation. However, the Spaniards need no higher authority for the sacredness of their national game, always given on Sunday, than that Rodrigo (Cid Campeador), the great Christian hero (1025-1099) of Spain, was the first cavalier to descend with the lance into the arena and kill, from horseback, his formidable antagonist. From that time young noblemen dedicated themselves to this sport, and only to nobility was conceded the honor of fighting with bulls in the arena. During Medieval times kings were frequently the principal actors in the game. It is to the credit of Queen Isabella that she made a vigorous effort to suppress the bull-fights; but after her day they seemed to increase in spectacular grandeur until the gladiatorial combats seemed small in proportion. Each game costs from pound 300 to pound 400.

Charles V. killed the largest bull in the arena at Valladolid; Pizarro, the conqueror of Peru, was a celebrated torero; and later kings down to Philip V. protected it as a Royal game. While the honor of acting as torero was confined to nobility, no blood was shed save that of the bull, and the actors were all mounted on the finest horses, whose lives were as carefully guarded as their owners. It was not until the middle of the last century that the sport extended to the common people, and that actors on foot entered the arena. The famous Francisco Romero de Ronda made the rules that regulate the present game. More than one hundred great landholders (on the identical pastures where Geryon's herds were bred) raise with special care the magnificent animals that are tortured and killed for the amusement of the people of Spain.

The best bull-fights (corridas de torros) take place at Seville (the alma mater of the Tauromachian art) and at Madrid. The "season" begins on the first Sunday after Lent, and a bull-fight takes place on every Sunday (weather permitting) until the heat of summer; they are resumed about the last of August and continue until the first of October. At Madrid winter exhibitions are given.

A bull-fight is a tragedy in Three Acts, which lasts about twenty minutes. In the Plaza de Toro is an immense amphitheater, open to the sky, with an arena in the center. The seats rise tier above tier in circles, and will accommodate many thousand spectators; that at Seville 11,000; at Madrid, 12,500; at Valencia, 17,000. The seats are filled to their utmost capacity before the hour for commencement. A double barrier encloses the arena, so that if the bull leaps over the first, there still remains a second between him and the spectators. At four o'clock promptly the band begins to play and a procession enters the arena, headed by mounted "alguazils" (police) dressed in quaint medieval costumes, followed by the "picadors" (mounted spearmen), the "banderillos" or "matedoras" (bull-decorators), the "chulos" (attendants on foot, with red mantles, all quaintly dressed), the "espadors," or bull-slayers, dressed like Figaro in the "Barber of Seville;" and lastly the "el tiro," the splendid mule-team destined to carry off the fated bull. Having marched around the arena to the music of the band, having saluted the King, whose box is opposite the "toril," or cell of the bull, the various actors take their places like the "fielders" in a ball game.

A trumpet sounds, the King tosses the key of the toril to the policeman, who catches it in his plumed hat, unlocks the door and steps aside. There is a perfect silence of a few seconds, but when the noble animal rushes into the arena, and, with head erect, stands looking proudly around, the spectators greet him with prolonged shouts, waving hats and fans. Then the first act of the tragedy begins. The bull, catching sight of the red mantle of the chulo, makes a rush for him; he waves his mantle to blind the bull and springs aside; the bull then rushes on another, and another, with the same result. This part of the fiesta is very beautiful. The brilliant dresses and agile movements of the men, sometimes leaping over the bull to escape him, sometimes over the barrier, disporting around the arena "like moths around a candle;" the noble bearing of the bull, with his sleek hide and large, excited eyes, form a dazzling spectacle. But to the Spaniards this is mere child's play; they soon begin to clamor for more exciting sport. The second act begins. The mounted picadors come forward and command the attention of the bull. The horses they ride are blindfolded, to make them stand the charge without flinching. Each picador is armed with a long, heavy spear, with from one to two inches of the blade exposed. He is protected from injury by thick padding over his body and greaves of iron and leather upon his legs. He receives the charge of the bull upon the end of his spear and is supposed to repel his assailant, but more often the bull, infuriated by the wound, presses on until his horns are deeply imbedded in the body of the horse. The chulos come forward and attract the attention of the bull until the picador escapes; another picador comes forward, and if he is able to repel the attack the audience is simply wild in its applause. After the arena is strewn with from four to six bleeding, dying horses, the audience clamors for fresh sport, and the third and last act of the tragedy begins. If the bull, exhausted by his frequent charges and loss of blood, begins to flag, he must be stimulated to fresh exertion; banderillos enter on foot, armed with long barbed darts in each hand, and if the bull is very lethargic, explosive material is added. Here brute courage comes in, and the audience is wrought to the highest pitch. The banderillo goes forward to meet the bull face to face, and as the poor exhausted animal stoops to toss him, he fixes his gaily decorated instruments of torture into either shoulder and then springs over or to one side of the infuriated animal. The second banderillo comes forward; the danger is greater and the excitement more intense; the suffering animal is bounding into the air, roaring and tearing up the sand; but this banderillo, too, must fix his darts, which is done amidst the wildest excitement and the blare of trumpets which calls for the climax. Finally the matador, or espada, comes forward, and now it is death either to man or bull. The ladies cover their faces with fans, the men are breathless with excitement as the matador aims the fatal thrust; the long sword is plunged between the vertebrae of the spine or between the eyes, and the noble animal drops dead. If the dangerous feat has been dexterously performed, the audience thunders forth applause; the men shower hats full of cigarettes, the ladies their fans, tied with bouquets of flowers, upon the hero. The band is deafenening as the el tiros (gaily decorated mule teams) enter and drag out the dead horses and the bull. The arena is quickly spread with sand, another bull enters, and the sickening scenes are repeated. At a first-class fiesta from six to eight bulls and from twenty to forty horses are killed.