Part 10

In the early days the torero sometimes encountered the bull with a spear, on foot, as may be seen in old bull-fighting prints. The use of horses in the ring came later. Dogs were often set upon the bulls, to incense them, and up to the year 1840 bears and other animals were introduced into the ring. These _combats_ have been abandoned. In the old bull-fighting bills we read of “a grand fight between a big elephant and two big bulls.” The dogs were of proven courage, and bred for strength and endurance. They often succeeded in pinning the bull by the nose, and holding his head down; but frequently they lost their lives on the points of his horns. Théophile Gautier, in “Wanderings in Spain,” describes this bull-baiting by dogs.

Despite the passion which the Spaniard has always exhibited for the bull-fight, the amusement has been more than once condemned by the Church and State. But such edicts and acts have been withdrawn, and the crowd has once more thronged the amphitheatre. Pope Pius V. issued a proclamation against bull-fighting in the year 1567, but in 1576 Pope Clement VIII. revoked the measure. At a much later date the _corrida_ was interdicted by Godoy, but the sport was again revived, and continues to flourish at the present time. The opponents of the ring to-day are in a minority, but their number is slowly increasing, and there seems to be something in the nature of a humanitarian crusade against the sport. One or two publicists are certainly opposed to the pastime.

Nevertheless, tauromachy will die very slowly in Spain. Bull-fighting holds the popular imagination as by a powerful spell, and it is a deep-rooted institution of the country, revered by high and low. Only at the Plaza de Toros does the Spaniard lose his restraint and gravity, and shout and cheer until he is hoarse. The poorest mendicant in Madrid will go without food for a day, to get a seat at the fight. And what can diminish the admiration of the populace for the _torero_? Is he not the idol of the aristocracy, the hero of the people? He earns more than a Minister of State, and infinitely more than a great writer. When he kills a bull with a clever thrust, or smilingly receives the furious onslaught of the beast upon his dangling _capa_, the Plaza de Toros shakes with the vociferations of the multitude. Flattered by _hidalgos_, courted by handsome _doñas_, applauded by the crowd--the popular _espada_ is the greatest man in Spain. Crowds assemble around his hotel, to acclaim him as he comes forth clad for the fray, in his glitter of tinsel, and glory of silk, plush and diamonds.

From six to eight bulls are baited and killed at each entertainment. Gautier says that, when he attended a bull-fight in Madrid, eight bulls and fourteen horses were done to death, and a _chulo_ slightly wounded. On feast days, in the eighteenth century, as many as six bulls were killed in the morning and twelve in the afternoon.

The training place or “university” of bull-fighters is at Seville, and the most daring of the schools of _toreros_ are of the South of Spain. Madrid is the scene of the _espada’s_ triumph, or of his defeat, for though the spectators at the _corrida_ are ever ready to lavish applause upon the clever performer with the lance or sword, they are cruelly critical, and show little mercy towards the timorous or bungling artist. Even the famous Bombita, the Madrid favourite, has known that ominous stillness that succeeds an ill-rendered thrust at a bull of unusual agility. The public will load Fuentes with their gold, and cheer him to the echo when he displays his coolness and dexterity, but the same public will not hesitate to hiss the best _espada_ who ever stepped into the ring, when he commits an impropriety or misses the opportunity of an instant to deliver a thrust of the blade.

As in the old days of the tournament, fair ladies smile upon and favour the bold _torero_. There are instances of the exactions of these high-born patronesses of the sport, which have resulted in death for the _espada_ who courted their approbation. It is recorded that a royal lady was so fascinated by an exceptionally agile feat performed by a _torero_ that she wished to see it repeated. The desire was conveyed to the performer. “It is more than my life is worth,” he said. “It is the wish of the lady,” returned the messenger. Bowing low, the _torero_ said: “I dedicate my life to Her Royal Highness.” Again the bull charged; but this time the unlucky athlete was caught on the horns of the beast, whence he was removed--a corpse.

It is the custom in England to speak of the _espada_ and of bull-fighters collectively as “matadors.” The word is altogether inappropriate to the sport. We hear of young gentlemen attending fancy dress balls in London, attired as “a Spanish matador,” or as a “toreador.” A bull-fighter in Spain is a _torero_ in the general sense, though the word really means one who engages the bull on foot. The performer with the sword, the most important functionary in the ring, is known as the _espada_; and the man who charges the animal on horseback, with a spear or lance as a weapon, is called a _picador_. Throwers of the darts are termed _banderilleros_; wavers of the gaudy cloaks, and the assistants of the _espadas_, are called _chulos_. These are the grades of _toreros_ in their order of precedence.

IX

THE ART OF THE BULL-FIGHTER

The Plaza de Toros, or bull ring, of Madrid, is a great structure designed by Capra and Rodriguez Ayuso in 1874. It is in the Moorish style of architecture, with a fine façade and an imposing entrance arch. According to one Spanish writer, the total number of seats is 12,605, but other writers give 15,000 and 14,000 as the number. Philip V. built the first bull-fighting arena in Madrid, in 1747, although he was by no means an enthusiast of the sport. The cost of the present building was 3,000,000 reales.

The seats are divided into boxes and open galleries, the boxes, or _palcos de sombra_--seats in the shade--being in the best position for watching the contests during the hot months. In early spring a seat in the sun is to be preferred, for the air of Madrid is keen at this season.

The sight of the Plaza de Toros on the day of a great _corrida_ leaves an impression that will not quickly fade from the memory. In the _palcos_ are the rank, beauty, and wealth of Madrid, while packed in the humbler seats is a vast mass of the people. The ladies wear _mantillas_, and carry fans, which flutter the whole time; and animation, devoid of any trace of rough behaviour, characterises the immense crowd. A tense hush falls on the throng when the first bull of the day bounds in from the dark _toril_, and confronts his gaily-attired persecutors in the big arena. During the fight the spectators grow excited almost to the verge of frenzy. There is a roar of voices, and the sound of canes struck upon the benches, an indescribable din, which reaches its height when a popular _espada_ delivers a dexterous thrust of the blade into the neck of the baffled and infuriated _toro_. While the combat proceeds, there are alternating comments of “Bravo toro,” as the bull shows courage, and groans and hisses when the animal displays cowardice or apathy. Both the bull and the men must act their parts with zeal, energy and bravery, or the crowd is disappointed, and wont to express disapprobation in an unqualified manner.

On the day of a _corrida_ Madrid is roused into a mood of joyous expectancy. The town is _en fête_; the streets are thronged, and every kind of vehicle is seen in the procession to the Plaza de Toros. For an hour the carriages stream in, and the crowd on foot files along to the tiers of seats. Overhead is the vivid sky and a burning sun, which brightens all that it shines upon. Thousands of fans are waving; thousands of dark eyes gleam from the _palcos_. Presently the music begins, from the large orchestra a stirring air thrills the arena, and almost drowns the voices of the crowd. One is reminded of a scene in the amphitheatre in the days of the grandeur of Rome, when gladiatorial contests attracted a vast concourse of all classes of the population, for the same love of daring and agility still sways the passion of the people, and the same indifference is evinced when blood flows.

The tournament opens with an imposing procession of the bull-fighters, arrayed in all the glory of their gala costumes, in which there is a plentiful glitter of tinsel, and spangles, and gold braid. Two _alguaciles_, or mounted men in a bygone garb of the police, ride in front of the troop of _toreros_. The two _espadas_, who are taking the leading part in the _corrida_ to-day, come next, and they are followed by the _picadores_, or spearmen, who are well protected with pads and leg-guards. Next come the _banderilleros_ or dart-throwers, a nimble company, in bright silk and velvet, and the rear of the procession is made up of _muleteros_, with the gaily trapped mules that are used to drag the corpses of the bulls from the ring.

A bugle note rings out like a challenge, and the key of the _toril_, or bulls’ den, is thrown by the President into the arena. The ring is now cleared of all the combatants except a trio of _picadores_, who, sitting astride their wretched nags, await the entry of the bull. Amid the hush, _toro_ rushes into the arena, a huge black beast, with elongated horns, a thick, brawny neck, a sleek, shining coat, and a pair of flashing, angry eyes. He paws the ground, and snorts, and catching sight of the gaudy colours of the _picadores_, lowers his head, and charges them. His assault is received on the blunt point of the _garrocha_, or spear; and, incensed by the pain, he pauses, lashing his tail, and deliberating a second attack. Perchance the bull is not especially fierce or courageous. He has led a placid life on the plains, and has followed the herd-boy as sheep follow a shepherd. But to-day he must fight and die, and if he is indifferent at the sight of his assailants, means must be employed to anger him.

But a valiant bull needs no such incitement to fury. He is angry with every one, indignant at the whole proceedings, and he charges the _picadores_ with terrific vehemence. Sometimes a rider is unhorsed, and, handicapped by his pads and protectors, he is in peril till the attendants divert the attention of _toro_.

The hapless horses are the worse sufferers, for they cannot escape from the ring. They serve as butts for the bull’s horns; they are frequently ripped open, and sometimes lifted off their feet by the horns of their maddened enemy. To English eyes it is a heartrending spectacle to see a sorry old horse, which has patiently served man all his life, urged up to the sharp horns of the bull, and made to receive his cruel charges. The wounded horses lie quivering and expiring in the ring; a look of supplication and suffering in their eyes fills the unaccustomed spectator with compassion, and the sight of their terrible injuries sickens the sensitive.

The _banderilleros_ now appear, armed with steel barbed darts, adorned with coloured papers, and with coolness and dexterity, they approach _toro_, and throw their stinging missiles at his neck and shoulders. The bull winces, shakes his head, and turns upon his tormentors. He chases one of them across the ring; the pursued _banderillero_ vaults over the high wooden barrier, and the horns of the bull resound against the wood with a dull crash. Another dart-thrower runs up, and deftly plants his weapons in the bull’s flesh. Again _toro_ turns, and as he runs with lowered horns, a third _banderillero_ stands in his course, leaps aside at the crucial instant, and delivers his darts.

An expert _banderillero_ will sit on a chair and await the rush of _toro_. The agility and daring of these performers is very extraordinary. If the bull is apathetic, drastic means are used to stir his anger. The _banderillas de fuego_, or fire darts, are used to arouse his fury. These instruments of irritation are provided with explosives, which startle and infuriate the bull with their noise and their sting. Now and then, a nimble and frenzied bull, when pursuing a _banderillero_, will even leap over the high barrier of the arena, causing tremendous consternation among the spectators. Sometimes a plucky bull-fighter grows bolder, and dares the bull by every imaginable device until, in a fatal moment, he receives a thrust of the horn, and falls bleeding to the ground.

Before entering the perilous arena, the _toreros_ receive the sacrament from the priest who is always in attendance at bull-fights. During the _corrida_ the _padre_ remains in waiting in the chapel of the Plaza de Toros, ready to minister, if need be, to a fighter borne dying from the scene.

The last great act in the drama is the _suerte de matar_. It is then that the _espada_ steps into the ring, carrying his red cloth over one arm, while the other arm is engaged with the sword. Bowing to the President, the _espada_ turns around and faces the bull, who is now somewhat fatigued from his exercise in chasing the _banderilleros_ and butting at the horses of the _picadores_. The bull, whose neck bristles with the darts, stands slowly moving his tail, and staring at his new aggressor in sullen anger. Waving the _muleta_, or red cloth, the _espada_ advances to _toro_, and impudently flutters the cloth in his face. The bull charges; the _muleta_ receives his horns, and is tossed in the air, while the _espada_ skips aside. Again and again the bull attempts to impale the man, but only succeeds in striking the _muleta_. Baffled and exasperated, _toro_ pauses as though in sober reflection. How can he outwit that smiling, calm assailant who fixes him with an insolent stare? The bull walks round and round the motionless _espada_, trying, as it were, to find a weak point for a charge, but the swordsman follows every movement with a shrewd and practised eye, and even divines what ruse the bull intends to adopt.

It is a wonderful display of coolness and courage. There are moments in the fight between the bull and the _espada_ when a deep hush spreads among the spectators; and, then, as the man swerves aside from the on-rush of the beast, a deafening roar goes up from the crowd. The last act is protracted at the discretion of the _espada_, who is always delighted to exhibit his cleverness and nimbleness to his thousands of admirers in the _palcos_ and galleries. A master of the art of the _espada_ has an extensive _répertoire_ of tricks and passes of the sword, which he loves to display, and he will risk his life a dozen times in the afternoon in exhibiting his skill and prowess. Often the bull is stupid. He must be made to prove his mettle. But usually _toro_ is already mad with anger when called upon to fight the last duel with the _espada_. It is curious to note how the _muleta_ enrages the bull, who seems to hate it more than the _banderillas_ or the pike of the _picador_.

At length the _espada_ determines that _toro_ shall die. There is only one legitimate way to kill him. The thrust must be delivered in the neck, and the point of the sword should reach the heart. Before this death-stroke there is a stillness and tense feeling in the Plaza. Will the _espada_ blunder, or will the blade go home at the first thrust. A rapt excitement is on the faces of the crowd. And now the bull makes his last headlong rush; there is a flash of steel in the sunshine, and the sword pierces the black hide, and the blade disappears up to the hilt. _Toro_ staggers, turns and makes a final assault on the _espada_, only to receive the _muleta_ on his horns. The bull falls, and blood gushes from his wound. He lies dying amid the thunderous din of applause. An attendant appears with a narrow-bladed dagger. He stoops over the bull and plunges the weapon into the spine, near the head. With a shudder, _toro_ dies. During the babel of voices discussing the fight, the mules are driven into the ring, traces are fixed to the horns of the dead bull, and the corpse is dragged out; and with scarcely an interval, another victim is turned into the arena.

In “Childe Harold,” Lord Byron records his impressions of a bull-fight:

“Thrice sounds the clarion; lo! the signal falls, The den expands, and Expectation mute Gapes round the silent circle’s peopled walls. Bounds with one lashing spring the mighty brute, And, wildly staring, spurns, with sounding foot, The sand, nor blindly rushes on his foe; Here, there, he points his threatening front, to suit His first attack, wide waving to and fro His angry tail; red rolls his eye’s dilated glow.

Foil’d, bleeding, breathless, furious to the last, Full in the centre stands the bull at bay-- ’Mid wounds, and clinging darts, and lances brast, And foes disabled in the brutal fray: Shake the red cloak, and poise the ready brand; Once more through all he bursts his thundering way-- Vain rage! the mantle quits the conynge hand, Wraps his fierce eye--’tis past--he sinks upon the sand!”

Every literary man who has visited Madrid, from the Chevalier de Bourgoanne to Mr Arthur Symons, has given us his impressions of the sport of bull-fighting. De Bourgoanne, in his “Travels in Spain” (1789), writes of the severity with which the spectators at the Madrid bull-fights criticised any deficiencies on the part of the _toreros_. Speaking of the final act of the _corrida_, the Chevalier states that, “if the animal immediately falls, the triumph of the conqueror is celebrated by a thousand acclamations; but if the blow be not decisive, if the bull survives and again strives to brave the fatal knife, the murmurs are not less numerous. The _espada_, whose address was about to be extolled to the skies, is considered only as a clumsy butcher. He instantly endeavours to recover from his disgrace, and disarm the severity of his judges.”

De Bourgoanne found the Madrileños divided in their admiration for the two celebrated _espadas_ of that day. One coterie swore by Costillares; another avowed that Romero was the better exponent of the art of tauromachy. This extravagant enthusiasm of the Madrid populace, aroused by the bull-fight, greatly bewildered the French traveller; but he admits that, in spite of the indifference evinced by the spectators at the _corrida_, the Spaniard is not lacking in compassion nor “devoid of every amiable and delicate emotion.” He relates that the government was alive to “the moral and political inconvenience of that kind of frenzy,” and the economists declared that the destruction of so many robust bulls was prejudicial to agriculture. “The reigning monarch,” writes the Chevalier, “who endeavours to polish the manners of his nation and to turn its attention towards more useful objects, wishes to destroy in it an inclination in which he perceives nothing but inconvenience; but he is too wise to employ violent means.”

An American traveller, writing anonymously in 1831, says that a bull-fight always drew several thousand people to the Plaza. In the winter, states this observer, the _corridas_ took the form of combats with young bulls, whose horns were covered with pads or balls. These bulls were called _novillos embolados_, and they were baited by novices and amateurs. This writer describes the tragic encounter of a notable _torero_, known as El Sombrerero, who was so called because he had been a hatter. El Sombrerero was the foremost _espada_ in Spain in his time, and he was wont to perform the most valiant feats in the ring. He was once fighting an exceptionally savage bull, which swerved suddenly in a charge, and caught his opponent upon the point of his horns. The _espada_ was lifted off, and carried from the ring in a state of insensibility. He recovered of his injuries, and resolved to abandon bull-fighting and to return to his trade of hat-making. But the small earnings of this occupation did not satisfy him, and El Sombrerero went back to the ranks of the bull-fighters. He had, however, lost his nerve, and in a fight at Granada he was hissed for his timidity in engaging a very fierce bull.

Manuel Romero was one of the most popular of _toreros_ in 1830. He was a short, rather stout man, though well built and extremely nimble. His features had “an air of cold-blooded ferocity as became one whose business it was to incur danger and to deal death.” Romero wore a very resplendent dress in the ring, with much lace and jewellery.

Théophile Gautier describes a _corrida_ with the zest of one who found a genuine delight in the spectacle. It is somewhat curious that men of refined instincts can look on unconcernedly at the sufferings of horses and bulls; but human nature presents such singular anomalies in abundance. Gautier relates how Sevilla, a famous _picador_, had his horse lifted off its legs, and tossed in the air by the bull, while the rider maintained his coolness and retained his seat in the saddle. Antonio Rodriguez was a celebrated picador of this day (1840), and Gautier pays a tribute to his valour and extraordinary agility. The favourite _espadas_ of this date were Juan Pastor and Joaquin Rodriguez.

Is the courage of the Spanish _torero_ declining? There are one-time _aficionados_ of bull-fighting who declare that the art is not so exciting, scientific, and well studied as in bygone days, and yet there is scarcely any decline in the absorbing interest devoted to the _corridas_ in all parts of the Peninsula. Prosper Mérimée, in his “Lettres à une Inconnue,” written in 1859, supports the view that bull-fighting has deteriorated. He writes: “I was present at a bull-fight on Monday, and it amused me a very little indeed. I was unlucky enough to know all too early in life what a degree of excellence this sport can attain to, and after having seen Montes, I really cannot look at his degenerate successors with any degree of pleasure. The animals have degenerated, too, as well as the men.”

No doubt there are many able exponents of bull-fighting still left in Spain, and there are writers in abundance who could probably prove that the sport is as stirring as ever. We, who have not seen Montes and Romero, and other dead heroes of the Plaza de Toros, are scarcely in a position to decide whether the bull-fighter’s art has degenerated. If the daring of the _espada_ of to-day is called into question, it must be said that while there are men who will stand motionless as statues, and allow a furious bull to sniff at them, and others who will stand still to the rush of a bull, and receive the beast on the point of the sword, there are still fighters prepared to risk their lives in exhibitions of intrepidity. There remain some _toreros_ who perform the perilous feat of vaulting over the bull with a pole, and many who expose themselves to a deadly thrust of the horns while planting the darts in the animal’s neck. The coolness of several of the leading professors of bull-fighting is unquestioned, and it cannot be denied that the patrons of the ring are not still exacting in their desire for hair-raising performances.

It is perhaps correct to state that there is a little more sympathy for the horses than in the old days of the _lidia_. Many Spanish people express disgust at the sight of the mangled carcasses of the miserable, worn-out horses, which are forced to end their hard lives in this cruel manner. But your true _aficionado_ has no scruples of pity, and he will assert that a bull does not fight at his best until he has seen blood flow.