THE BULL–FIGHT AT SEVILLE.
“Now we are under the meteor flag of old England,”
said Clyde Blacklock, the fourth lieutenant
of the Prince, after the squadron had come to
anchor off the Rock.
“Do you call that the meteor flag of England?”
laughed Murray, as he pointed to the stars and stripes
at the peak of the steamer.
“We are in British waters anyhow,” replied Clyde.
“That’s so; but the flag you are under just now is
the glorious flag of the United States of America—long
may it wave!”
“They are both glorious flags,” said Dr. Winstock;
“and both nations ought to be proud of what they
have done for the human race.”
“And Johnny Bull is the father of Brother Jonathan,”
added Clyde.
“There is the sunset gun,” said the doctor, as the
report pealed across the water, and a cloud of smoke
rose from one of the numerous batteries on the shore.
“The gates of the town are closed now, and no one is
allowed to enter or leave after this hour.”
The surgeon continued to point out various buildings
and batteries, rather to prevent the students from
engaging in an international wrangle, to which a few
were somewhat inclined, than for any other reason,
though he was always employed in imparting information
to them.
The next morning, as soon as the arrangements were
completed, the several ships’ companies landed at the
same time, and marched in procession to the top of the
hill, where the students were formed in a hollow square
to hear what Professor Mapps had to say about the
Rock. The view was magnificent, for the hill is fourteen
hundred and thirty feet above the sea level.
“Young gentlemen, I know that the view from this
height is grand and beautiful,” the professor began,
“and I cannot blame you for wishing to enjoy it at
once; but I wish you to give your attention to the
history of the Rock for a few minutes, and then I shall
ask Dr. Winstock, who is more familiar with the place
than I am, to point out to you in detail the various
objects under your eye.”
In addition to the twenty non–commissioned officers
who had been detailed to act as guides for the party,
quite a number of superior officers, and not a few
ladies, formed a part of the professor’s audience. The
latter had been attracted by curiosity to follow the students;
and the majors, captains, and lieutenants were
already on speaking–terms with the principal, the vice–principals,
and the professors, though no formal introductions
had taken place; and, before the day was over,
all hands had established a very pleasant relation with
the officers of the garrison and their families.
“When the Phœnicians came to the Rock and to
Cadiz, they believed they had reached the end of the
world; and here they erected one of the two Pillars
of Hercules, which have already been mentioned to
you. The Berbers were the original inhabitants of the
Barbary States; and Tarìk, a leader of this people,
captured the place. He gave his own name to his
conquest, calling it Ghebal–Tarìk, or the Hill of Tarìk.
This was in 711; but Guzman the Good, the first of
the Dukes of Medina Sidonia, recovered it in 1309.
Soon after, the Spanish governor of the Rock stole
the money appropriated for its defence, employing it in
a land speculation at Xeres; and the place surrendered
to the Moors. In 1462 another Duke of Medina Sidonia
drove out the Moslems; and Spain held the Rock
till 1704. In this year, during the war of the Spanish
succession, the fortress was attacked by the combined
forces of the English and the Dutch. The Spanish
garrison consisted of only one hundred and fifty men;
but it killed or disabled nearly twice this number of
the assailants before the Rock was surrendered, which
shows that it was a very strong place even then; and
its defences have been doubled since that time. The
Spaniards have made repeated attempts to recover possession
of the fortress, but without success; and it has
been settled that it is entirely impregnable.”
The English officers applauded this last statement;
and Dr. Winstock, stepping upon the rock which served
the professor for a rostrum, proceeded to point out the
objects on interest in sight.
“You have two grand divisions before you,” said the
surgeon. “On the other side of the strait is Africa,
with its rough steeps. The nest of white houses you
see at the head of the deep bay is Ceuta; and the hill
is the Mount Abyla of the ancients, on which the other
Pillar of Hercules was planted. Turning to the west,
the broad Atlantic is before you. Below is the beautiful
Bay of Gibraltar, with Algeciras on the opposite
side. The village north of us is San Roque; and the
lofty snow–capped mountains in the north–east are the
Sierra Nevadas, which you saw from Granada. Now
look at what is nearer to us. The strait is from twelve
to fifteen miles wide. Perhaps you saw some of the
monkeys that inhabit the Rock on your way up the hill.
Though there are plenty of them on the other side of
the strait, they are not found in a wild state in any
part of Europe except on this Rock. How they got
here, is the conundrum; and some credulous people
insist that there is a tunnel under the strait by which
they came over.
“Below you is Europa Point; or, rather, three
capes with this name. You see the beautiful gardens
near the Point; and in the hands of the English people
the whole Rock blossoms like the rose, while, if any
other people had it, it would be a desolate waste.
Stretching out into the bay, near the dockyard, is the
new mole, which is seven hundred feet long. The one
near the landing–port is eleven hundred feet; but it
shelters only the small craft. The low, sandy strip of
ground that bounds the Rock on the north is the Neutral
Ground, where the sentinels of the two countries
are always on duty. This strip of land is diked, so
that it can be inundated and rendered impassable to an
army in a few moments.”
The doctor finished his remarks, but we have not
reported all that he said; nor have we space for the
speeches of a couple of the English officers who were
invited to address the students, though they gave much
information in regard to the fortress and garrison life
at the Rock. The crowd was divided into small parties,
and spent the rest of the day in exploring the fortifications
with the guides. As usual, the doctor had
the captain and first lieutenant under his special charge.
“The east and south sides of the Rock, as you
observed when we came into the bay from Malaga,”
said he, “are almost perpendicular; and at first sight
it would seem to be absurd to fortify a steep which no
one could possibly ascend. But an enemy would find
a way to get up if it were not for the guns that cover
this part of the Rock. The north end is also too steep
to climb. The west side, where we came up by the
zigzag path, has a gentler slope; and this is protected
by batteries in every direction.”
“I can see the guns of the batteries; but I do not
see any on the north and east sides of the Rock,” said
Sheridan.
“The edges of the Rock on all sides are tunnelled:
and these galleries form a series of casemates, with
embrasures, or port–holes, every thirty or forty yards,
through which the great guns are pointed. These galleries
are in tiers, or stories, and there are miles of
them. They were made just before the French Revolution
began, nearly a hundred years after the English
got possession.”
“They must have cost a pile of money,” suggested
Murray.
“Yes; and it costs a pile of money to support them,”
added the doctor. “Five thousand troops are kept
here in time of peace. Some British statesmen have
advocated the policy of giving or selling the Rock to
Spain; for it has been a standing grievance to this
power to have England own a part of the peninsula.
But in other than a military view the Rock is valuable
to England. Whatever wars may be in progress on the
face of the earth, her naval and commercial vessels can
always find shelter in the port of Gibraltar.”
“But I don’t see how it could prevent ships of
war from entering the Mediterranean Sea,” added
Sheridan.
“I doubt whether it could ever do that except by
sheltering a fleet to do the fighting; for no gun in
existence could send a shot ten or twelve miles,” replied
the doctor.
By this time the party had reached the entrance of
the galleries, and they went in to view what the surgeon
had described. The students were amazed at the extent
of the tunnels, and the vast quantities of shot and shell
piled up in every part of the works; at the great guns,
and the appliances for handling them. They walked
till they were tired out; and then the party descended
to the town for a lunch.
“This isn’t much of a city,” said Murray, as they
walked through its narrow and crooked streets to Commercial
Square, where the hotels are located.
“I believe the people do not brag of it, though it
contains much that is interesting,” replied the doctor.
“You find all sorts of people here: there are Moors,
Jews, Greeks, Portuguese, and Spaniards, besides the
English. This is a free port, and vast quantities of
goods are smuggled into Spain from this town.”
They lunched at the Club–House; and it was a luxury
to sit at the table with English people, who do not
wear their hats, or smoke between the courses. After
this important duty had been disposed of, the party
walked to the _alameda_, as the Spaniards call it, or
the parade and public garden as the English have it.
It is an exceedingly pleasant retreat to an English–speaking
traveller who has just come from Spain, for
every thing is in the English fashion. It contains a
monument to the Duke of Wellington, and another to
General Lord Heathfield. The party enjoyed this
garden so much that they remained there till it was
time to go on board of the ship.
Three days were spent at the Rock, and many courtesies
were exchanged between the sailors and the soldiers.
The students saw a review of a brigade, and
the officers were feasted at the mess–rooms of the garrison.
The principal was sorely tried when he saw the
wine passing around among the military men; but the
students drank the toasts in water. In return for these
civilities, the officers were invited on board of the
vessels of the squadron; the yards were manned; the
crews were exercised in the various evolutions of seamanship;
and a bountiful collation was served in each
vessel. Everybody was happy.
Dr. Winstock was a little more “gamy” than the
principal; and, when he heard that there was to be a
bull–fight at Seville on Easter Sunday, he declared that
it would be a pity to take the students away from Spain
without seeing the national spectacle. He suggested
that the ceremonies of Holy Week would also be very
interesting. The question was discussed for a long
time. All the rest of their lives these young men
would be obliged to say that they had been to Spain
without seeing a bull–fight. The professors were consulted;
and they were unanimously in favor of making
a second visit to Seville. It was decided to adopt the
doctor’s suggestion.
“But it will be impossible to get into the hotels,”
added Dr. Winstock. “They all double their prices,
and are filled to overflowing for several days before the
ceremonies begin.”
“Then, why did you suggest the idea of going?”
laughed the principal. “The boys must have something
to eat, and a place to sleep.”
“I think we can do better than to go to the hotels,
even if we could get into them,” replied the doctor.
“The Guadalquiver is very high at the present time,
and the fleet will go up to Seville without quarrelling
with the bottom. We can anchor off the _Toro del Oro_,
and save all the hotel–bills.”
This plan was adopted; and the order to coal the
steamer for the voyage across the Atlantic was rescinded,
so that she might go up the river as light as
possible. Half a dozen officers of the garrison were
taken as passengers, guests of the officers, for the excursion,
as the steamer was to return to the Rock. On
Tuesday morning the fleet sailed. While the schooners
remained off Cadiz, the Prince ran in and obtained
three pilots,—a father and his two sons,—and distributed
them among the vessels. At the mouth of the
river the Prince took her consorts in tow. They were
lashed together, and a hawser extended to each of
them. Off Bonanza the vessels anchored for the
night; for the pilots would not take the risk of running
in the darkness. In the morning the voyage was
renewed. Portions of the country were flooded with
water, for the ice and snows in the mountains were
melting in the warm weather of spring. Indeed, there
was so much water that it bothered the pilot of the
steamer to keep in the channel, for the high water
covered some of his landmarks. There were some
sharp turns to be made; and the pilots in the Tritonia
and Josephine had to be as active as their father in the
steamer; for, in making these curves, the hawser of the
outer vessel had to be slacked off; and, when the ropes
were well run out, the steamer was stopped, and they
were hauled in. But, before sunset, the fleet was at
anchor off Seville.
The next day was Holy Thursday, and all hands
were landed to see the sights. The city was crowded
with people. All along the streets through which the
procession was to pass, seats were arranged for the
spectators, which were rented for the occasion, as in
the large cities at home. The trip to Seville had been
decided upon a week before the vessels arrived, and
while they were at Malaga. Couriers had been sent
ahead to engage places for the procession, and in
the _Coliseo de Toros_. Lobo and Ramos were on the
quay when the boats landed; and the students were
conducted to the places assigned to them. They went
early, and had to wait a long time; but the people
were almost as interesting as the “_Gran Funcion_” as
they call any spectacle, whether it be a bull–fight or a
church occasion.
Not only was the street where they were seated full
of people, but all the houses were dressed in the gayest
of colors; and no one would have suspected that
the occasion was a religious ceremony. Printed programmes
of all the details of the procession had been
hawked about the streets for the last two days, and
Lobo had procured a supply of them; but unfortunately,
as they were in Spanish, hardly any of the students
could make use of them, though the surgeon,
the professors, and the couriers, translated the main
items for them.
“I suppose you both understand the meaning of the
procession we are about to see,” said the doctor, while
they waiting.
“I don’t,” replied Murray. “My father is a
Scotchman, and I was brought up in the kirk.”
“The week begins with Palm Sunday, which commemorates
the entry of Christ into Jerusalem, when
the people cast palm–branches before him; Holy
Thursday celebrates the institution of the Lord’s Supper;
Good Friday, the crucifixion; Holy Saturday is
when water used in baptism is blessed; and Easter
Sunday, the greatest of all the holy days except
Christmas, is in honor of the resurrection of the
Saviour. On Holy Thursday, in Madrid, the late
queen used to wash the feet of a dozen beggars, as
Christ washed the feet of his disciples. I hear music,
and I think the procession is coming.”
It was not church music which the band at the head
of the procession played, but lively airs from the
operas. A line of soldiers formed in front of the spectators
that filled the street, to keep them back; and the
procession soon came in sight. To say that the boys
were amused would be to express it mildly as the leading
feature of the show came into view. It seemed to
be a grand masquerade, or a tremendous burlesque.
First came a number of persons dressed in long robes
of white, black, or violet, gathered up at the waist by a
leather belt. On their heads they wore enormous fools’
caps, in the shape of so many sugar–loaves, but at least
four feet high.
“You mustn’t laugh so as to be observed,” said the
doctor to the first lieutenant. “These are the penitents.”
“They ought to be penitent for coming out in such a
rig,” laughed Murray.
A pointed piece of cloth fell from the tall cap of the
penitents over the face and down upon the breast, with
round holes for the eyes. Some carried torches, and
others banners with the arms of some religious order
worked on them. These people were a considerable
feature of the procession, and they were to be seen
through the whole length of it.
After them came some men dressed as Roman soldiers,
with helmet, cuirass, and yellow tunic, representing
the soldiers that took part in the crucifixion. They
were followed by a kind of car, which seemed to float
along without the help of any bearers; but it was carried
by men under it whose forms were concealed by
the surrounding drapery that fell to the ground, forming
a very effective piece of stage machinery. The car
was richly ornamented with gold and velvet, and bore
on its top rail several elegant and fancifully shaped
lanterns in which candles were burning.
On the car was a variety of subjects represented by
a dozen figures, carved in wood and painted to the life.
Above all the others rose Christ and the two thieves on
the crosses. The Virgin Mary was the most noticeable
figure. She was dressed in an elegant velvet robe,
embroidered with gold, with a lace handkerchief in her
hand. A velvet mantle reached from her shoulders
over the rail of the car to the ground. Her train was
in charge of an angel, who managed it according to her
own taste and fancy. On the car were other angels,
who seemed to be more ornamental than useful.
The rest of the procession was made up of similar
materials,—holy men, women and children, crosses,
images of saints, such as have often been seen and described.
During the rest of the week, the students
visited the cathedral, where they saw the blackened
remains of King Ferdinand, and other relics that are
exhibited at this time, as well as several other of the
churches. Easter Sunday came, and the general joy
was as extravagantly manifested as though the resurrection
were an event of that day. Early in the afternoon
crowds of gayly dressed people of all classes and ranks
began to crowd towards the bull–ring. All over the
city were posted placards announcing this _Gran Funcion_,
with overdrawn pictures of the scenes expected to
transpire in the arena. We have one of these bills
before us as we write.
“As we are to take part in the _Funcion_, we will go
to the _plaza_” said the doctor, as he and his friends
left the cathedral.
“Take part!” exclaimed Murray. “I have no idea
of fighting a bull. I would rather be on board of the
ship.”
“Perhaps I should have said ‘assist in the _Funcion_,’
which is the usual way of expressing it in Spain.”
“Who is this?” said Sheridan, as a couple of young
men wearing the uniform of the squadron approached
the party. “Upon my word, it is Raimundo!”
The young men proved to be Raymond and Bark
Lingall, just arrived from Gibraltar. The fugitive had
resumed his uniform when he expected to join the Tritonia;
and, if he had asked any officer of the garrison
where the fleet had gone, he could have informed him.
In the evening one of them spoke to Raymond at the
hotel, asking him how it happened that he had not
gone to Seville. This led to an explanation. Raymond
and Bark had taken a steamer to Cadiz the next
day, and had just arrived in a special train, in season
for the bull–fight. The surgeon, who knew all about
Raymond’s history, gave him a cordial greeting; and
so did his shipmates of the Tritonia.
“You are just in time to assist at the bull–fight,”
said Scott, who readily took up the Spanish style of
expressing it, for it seemed like a huge joke to him.
“I don’t care for the bull–fight, but I am glad to be
with the fellows once more,” replied Raymond, as he
seated himself with the officers of the vessel.
Before the show began, he had reported himself to
Mr. Lowington and Mr. Pelham; and some of the students
who did not understand the matter thought he
received a very warm greeting for a returned runaway.
But all hands were thinking of the grand spectacle;
and not much attention was given to Raymond and
Bark, except by their intimate friends.
“If the people are so fond of these shows, I should
think they would have more of them,” said Sheridan.
“This is the first chance we have had to see one; and
we have been in Spain four months.”
“They cost too much money; and only the large
places can afford to have them,” replied the doctor.
“It costs about two thousand dollars to get one up in
good style. I will tell you all about the performers as
they come in.”
“But what are all those people doing in the ring?”
asked Murray; for the arena was filled with spectators
walking about, chatting and smoking.
“They are the men who will occupy the lower seats,
which are not very comfortable; and they prefer to
walk about till the performance begins. They are all
deeply interested in the affair, and are talking it over.”
“I don’t see many ladies here,” said Sheridan. “I
was told that they all attend the bull–fights.”
“I should think that one–third of the audience were
ladies,” replied the doctor, looking about the _plaza_.
“At those I attended in Madrid, there were not five
hundred ladies present.”
The _Plaza de Toros_ at Seville, which the people dignify
by calling it the _Coliseum_, is about the same size
as the one at Madrid, open at the top, and will seat
ten or twelve thousand people. It is circular in form,
and the walls may be twenty or twenty–five feet high.
Standing in the ring, the lower part of the structure
looks much like a country circus on a very large scale;
the tiers of seats for the common people sloping down
from half the height of the walls to the arena, which
is enclosed by a strong fence about five feet high.
Inside of the heavy fence enclosing the ring, is another,
which separates the spectators from a kind of avenue
all around the arena; and above this is stretched a
rope, to prevent the bull, in case he should leap the
inner fence, from going over among the spectators.
This avenue between the two fences is for the use of
the performers and various hangers–on at the _funcion_.
Above the sloping rows of seats, are balconies, or
boxes as they would be called in a theatre. They are
roofed over, and the front of them presents a continuous
colonnade supporting arches, behind which are sloping
rows of cushioned seats. In hot weather, awnings
are placed in front of those exposed to the sun. Opposite
the gates by which the bull is admitted is an elaborately
ornamented box for the “_autoridad_” and the
person who presides over the spectacle. The latter
was often the late queen, in Madrid; and on the present
occasion it was the _infanta_, the Marquesa de Montpensier.
This box was dressed with flags and bright colors.
During the gathering of the vast audience, which
some estimated at fifteen thousand, a band had been
playing. Punctually at three o’clock came a flourish
of trumpets, and two _alguacils_, dressed in sober black,
rode into the ring; and the people there vacated it,
leaping over the fences to their seats. When the arena
was clear, another blast announced the first scene of the
tragedy.
“Now we have a procession of the performers,” said
the doctor to his pupils. “The men on horseback are
_picadores_, from _pica_, a lance; and you see that each
rider carries one.”
These men were dressed in full Spanish costume,
and wore broad sombreros on their heads, something
like a tarpaulin. They were mounted on old hacks of
horses, worn out by service on the cabs or omnibuses.
They are blindfolded during the fight, to keep them
from dodging the bull. The legs of the men are cased
in splints of wood and sole–leather to protect them
from the horns of the bull. Each of them is paid a
hundred dollars for each _corrida_, or performance.
“Those men with the red and yellow mantles, or
cloaks, on their arms, are the _chulos_, whose part is to
worry the bull, and to call him away from the _picador_,
or other actor who is in danger,” continued the surgeon.
“Next to them are the _banderilleros_; and the
dart adorned with many colored ribbons is called a
_banderilla_. You will see what this is for when the
time comes. The last are the _matadors_, or _espadas_;
and each of them carries a Toledo blade. They are
the heroes of the fight; and, when they are skilful,
their reputation extends all over Spain. Montes, one
of the most celebrated of them, was killed in a _corrida_
in Madrid. Cuchares was another not less noted; and,
when I saw him, he was received with a demonstration
of applause that would have satisfied a king of Spain.
I don’t know what has become of him. I see that the
names of four _espadas_ are given on the bill, besides a
supernumerary in case of accident. The _espadas_
receive from two to three hundred dollars for a _corrida_;
the _banderilleros_, from fifty to seventy–five; and
the _chulos_, from fifteen to twenty.”
An _alguacil_ now entered the ring, and, walking over
to the box of the authorities, asked permission to
begin the fight. The key of the bull–pen was given to
him. He returned, gave it to the keeper of the gate;
and made haste to save himself by jumping over the
fence, to the great amusement of the vast audience.
Most of the students had been informed what all
this meant by the interpreters and others; and they
waited with no little emotion for the conflict to commence.
The bull had been goaded to fury in the
pen; and, when the gates were thrown open, he rushed
with a bellowing snort into the ring. At first he
seemed to be startled by the strange sight before him,
and halted at the gate, which had been closed behind
him. Two _picadores_ had been stationed on opposite
sides of the arena; and, as soon as the bull saw the
nearest of these, he dashed towards him. The _picador_
received him on the point of his lance, and turned him
off. The animal then went for the other, who warded
him off in the same way. The audience did not seem
to be satisfied with this part of the performance, and
yelled as if they had been cheated out of something.
It was altogether too tame for them.
Then the first _picador_, at these signs of disapprobation,
rode to the middle of the ring; and the bull made
another onslaught upon him. This time he tumbled
horse and rider in a heap on the ground. Then the
_chulos_ put in an appearance, and with their red and
yellow cloaks attracted the attention of the bull, thus
saving the _picador_ from further harm. While the bull
was chasing some of the _chulos_, more of them went to
the assistance of the fallen rider, whose splinted legs
did not permit him to rise alone. He was pulled out
from beneath his nag; and the poor animal got up,
goaded to do so by the kicks of the brutal performers.
His stomach had been ripped open by the horns of the
bull, and his entrails dragged upon the ground.
Some of the students turned pale, and were made
sick by the cruel sight. A few of them were obliged to
leave their places, which they did amidst the laughter
of the Spaniards near them. But the audience applauded
heartily, and appeared to be satisfied now that
a horse had been gored so terribly. The _picador_ was
lifted upon the mangled steed, and he rode about the
ring with the animal’s entrails dragging under him.
The _chulos_ played with the bull for a time, till the
people became impatient; and then he was permitted
to attack the horses again. The one injured before
dropped dead under the next assault, to the great
relief of the American spectators. The audience became
stormy again, and two more horses were killed
without appeasing them.
“Now we shall have the _banderilleros_,” said the
doctor, as a flourish of trumpets came from the bandstand.
“I have got about enough of it,” said Sheridan
faintly.
“Brace yourself up, and you will soon become more
accustomed to it. You ought to see one bull killed,”
added the surgeon.
Two men with _banderillas_ in their hands now entered
the ring. These weapons have barbs, so that, when the
point is driven into the flesh of the bull, they stick fast,
and are not shaken out by the motion of the animal.
These men were received with applause; but it was
evident that the temper of the assembled multitude
required prompt and daring deeds of them. There was
to be no unnecessary delay, no dodging or skulking.
They were bold fellows, and seemed to be ready for
business. One of them showed himself to the bull;
and the beast made for him without an instant’s hesitation.
The _banderillero_ held his ground as though he had
been tied to the spot; and it looked as if he was
surely to be transfixed by the horns of the angry bull.
Suddenly, as the animal dropped his head to use his
horns, the man swung the _banderillas_ over his shoulders,
and planted both of the darts just behind the neck of
the beast, and then dexterously slipped out of the way.
This feat was applauded tremendously, and the yells
seemed to shake the arena. Vainly the bull tried to
shake off the darts, roaring with the pain they gave
him.
Another flourish of trumpets announced the last
scene of the tragedy, and one of the _espadas_ bounded
lightly into the ring. He was greeted with hearty
applause; and, walking over to the front of the _marquesa’s_
box, he bent down on one knee, and made a
grandiloquent speech, to the effect that for the honor of
the city, in the name of the good people there assembled,
and for the benefit of the hospital, he would kill
the bull or be killed himself in the attempt, if her
highness would graciously accord him the permission to
do so. The _infanta_ kindly consented; and the _espada_
whirled his hat several times over his head, finally jerking
it under his left arm over the fence. In his hand
he carried a crimson banner, which he presented to the
bull; and this was enough to rouse all his fury again.
[Illustration: THE BULL–FIGHT AT SEVILLE. Page 406.]
For a time he played with the furious beast, which
continually plunged at the red banner, the man skilfully
stepping aside. At last he seemed to be prepared
for the final blow. Holding the banner in his
left hand, he permitted the bull to make a dive at it;
and, while his head was down, he reached over his
horns with the sword, and plunged it in between the
shoulder–blades. His aim was sure: he had pierced the
heart, and the bull dropped dead. Again the applause
shook the arena, and the audience in the lower part of
the building hurled their hats and caps into the ring;
and a shower of cigars, mingled with an occasional
piece of silver, followed the head–gear. The victorious
_espada_ picked up the cigars and money, bowing his
thanks all the time, while the _chulos_ tossed back the
hats and caps.
“‘You can take my hat’ is what they mean by that,
I suppose,” said Murray.
“That is one of the ways a Spanish audience has
of expressing their approbation in strong terms,” replied
the doctor.
A team of half a dozen mules, tricked out in the
gayest colors, galloped into the ring; and, when a sling
had been passed over the horns of the dead bull, he
was dragged out at a side gate. The doors had hardly
closed upon the last scene before the main gates were
thrown wide open again, and another bull bounded into
the arena, where the _picadores_ and the _chulos_ were
already in position for action. The second act was
about like the first. Four horses were killed by the
second bull, which was even more savage than the
first. The _banderillero_ was unfortunate in his first
attempt, and was hooted by the audience; but in a
second attempt he redeemed himself. The _espada_ got
his sword into the bull; but he did not hit the vital
part, and he was unable to withdraw his weapon. The
animal flew around the ring with the sword in his
shoulders, while the audience yelled, and taunted the
unlucky hero. It was not allowable for him to take
another sword; and the bull was lured to the side of
the ring, where the _espada_ leaped upon a screen, and
recovered his blade. In a second trial he did the
business so handsomely that he regained the credit he
had temporarily lost.
Many of the students did not stay to see the second
bull slain; and not more than half of them staid till
the conclusion of the _funcion_. One of the last of the
bulls would not fight at all, and evidently belonged to
the peace society; but neither the audience nor the
_lidiadores_ had any mercy for him.
“_Perros! Perros!_” shouted the audience, when it
was found that the bull had no pluck.
“_Perros! Perros!_” screamed some of the wildest
of the students, without having the least idea what the
word meant.
“What does all that mean?” asked Murray.
“_Perros_ means dogs. Not long ago, when a bull
would not fight, they used to set dogs upon him to
worry and excite him,” answered the doctor.
“Well, will they set the dogs upon him?” inquired
Murray.
“No, I suppose not; for here in the bill it says, ‘No
dogs will be used; but fire–_banderillas_ will be substituted
for bulls that will not fight at the call of the
authorities.’”
This expedient was resorted to in the present case;
the bull was frightened, and showed a little pluck.
After he had upset a _picador_, and charged on a _chulo_,
he leaped over the fence into the avenue. The loafers
gathered there sprang into the ring; but the animal
was speedily driven back, and was finally killed without
having done any great damage to the horses.
The last bull was the fiercest of them all; and he
came into the arena roaring like a lion. He demolished
two _picadores_ in the twinkling of an eye, and
made it lively for all the performers. “_Bravo, Toro!_”
shouted the people, for they applaud the bull as well
as the actors. The _espada_ stabbed him three times
before he killed him.
Six bulls and seventeen horses had been slain: the
last one had killed five. Even the most insensible of
the students had had enough of it; and most of them
declared that it was the most barbarous spectacle they
had ever seen. They pitied the poor horses, and some
of them would not have been greatly distressed if the
bull had tossed up a few of the performers. The doctor
was disgusted, though he had done his best to have
the students see this _cosa de España_. The principal
refused to go farther than the gate of the _plaza_.
“I don’t care to see another,” said Dr. Winstock
to his Spanish friend, who sat near him. “It is barbarous;
and I hope the people of Spain will soon
abolish these spectacles.”
“Barbarous, is it?” laughed the Spanish gentleman.
“Do you think it is any worse than the prize–fights you
have in England and America?”
“Only a few low ruffians go to prize–fights in England
and America,” replied the doctor warmly. “They
are forbidden by law, and those who engage in them
are sent to the penitentiary. But bull–fights are managed
by the authorities of the province, presided over
by the queen or members of the royal family.”
All hands returned to the vessels of the squadron;
and early the next morning the fleet sailed for Gibraltar.
The river was still very high; and, though the
Prince stirred up the mud once or twice, she reached
the mouth of the river in good time, and the squadron
stood away for the Rock, where it arrived the next day.
Raymond was delighted to be on board of the Tritonia
again, and at his duties. Enough of his story was
told to the students to enable them to understand his
case, and why he had been excused for running away.
New rank had been assigned at the beginning of the
month, and Raymond found on his return that he was
second master, as before; the faculty voting that he
was entitled to his old rank.
Bark Lingall had worked a full month since his
reformation; and when he went on board the Tritonia,
at Seville, he was delighted to find that he was third
master, and entitled to a place in the cabin. On the
voyage to Gibraltar, he wore the uniform of his rank,
and made no complaint of the sneers of Ben Pardee
and Lon Gibbs, who had not yet concluded to turn over
a new leaf.
As soon as the Prince had coaled, and the vessels
were watered and provisioned for the voyage, the fleet
sailed; and what new climes the students visited, and
what adventures they had, will be related in “Isles of
the Sea; or, Young America Homeward Bound.”
LEE & SHEPARD’S
LIST OF
JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS.
OLIVER OPTIC’S BOOKS.
Each Set in a neat Box with Illuminated Titles.
=Army and Navy Stories.= A Library for Young and
Old, in 6 volumes. 16mo. Illustrated. Per vol. =$1 50=
The Soldier Boy. The Yankee Middy.
The Sailor Boy. Fighting Joe.
The Young Lieutenant. Brave Old Salt.
=Famous “Boat–Club” Series.= A Library for Young
People. Handsomely Illustrated. Six volumes, in neat
box. Per vol. =1 25=
The Boat Club; or, The Bunkers of Rippleton.
All Aboard; or, Life on the Lake.
Now or Never; or, The Adventures of Bobby Bright.
Try Again; or, The Trials and Triumphs of Harry West.
Poor and Proud; or, The Fortunes of Katy Redburn.
Little by Little; or, The Cruise of the Flyaway.
=Lake Shore Series, The.= Six volumes. Illustrated.
In neat box. Per vol. =1 25=
Through by Daylight; or, The Young Engineer of the Lake Shore Railroad.
Lightning Express; or, The Rival Academies.
On Time, or, The Young Captain of the Ucayga Steamer.
Switch Off, or, The War of the Students.
Break Up; or, The Young Peacemakers.
Bear and Forbear; or, The Young Skipper of Lake Ucayga.
=Soldier Boy Series, The.= Three volumes, in neat
box. Illustrated. Per vol. =1 50=
The Soldier Boy; or, Tom Somers in the Army.
The Young Lieutenant; or, The Adventures of an Army Officer.
Fighting Joe; or, The Fortunes of a Staff Officer.
=Sailor Boy Series, The.= Three volumes in neat box.
Illustrated. Per vol. =1 50=
The Sailor Boy; or, Jack Somers in the Navy.
The Yankee Middy; or, Adventures of a Naval Officer.
Brave Old Salt; or, Life on the Quarter–Deck.
=Starry Flag Series, The.= Six volumes. Illustrated.
Per vol. =1 25=
The Starry Flag; or, The Young Fisherman of Cape Ann.
Breaking Away; or, The Fortunes of a Student.
Seek and Find; or, The Adventures of a Smart Boy.
Freaks of Fortune; or, Half Round the World.
Make or Break; or, The Rich Man’s Daughter.
Down the River; or, Buck Bradford and the Tyrants.
=The Household Library.= 3 volumes. Illustrated.
Per volume =1 50=
Living too Fast. In Doors and Out.
The Way of the World.
=Way of the World, The.= By William T. Adams (Oliver
Optic) 12mo. =1 50=
=Woodville Stories.= Uniform with Library for Young
People. Six volumes. Illustrated. Per vol. 16mo. =1 25=
Rich and Humble; or, The Mission of Bertha Grant.
In School and Out; or, The Conquest of Richard Grant.
Watch and Wait; or, The Young Fugitives.
Work and Win; or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise.
Hope and Have; or, Fanny Grant among the Indians.
Haste and Waste; or, The Young Pilot of Lake Champlain.
=Yacht Club Series.= Uniform with the ever popular
“Boat Club” Series. Completed in six vols. Illustrated.
Per vol. 16mo. =1 50=
Little Bobtail; or, The Wreck of the Penobscot.
The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat Builders.
Money Maker; or, The Victory of the Basilisk.
The Coming Wave; or, The Treasure of High Rock,
The Dorcas Club; or, Our Girls Afloat.
Ocean Born; or, The Cruise of the Clubs.
=Onward and Upward Series, The.= Complete in six
volumes. Illustrated. In neat box. Per vol. =1 25=
Field and Forest; or, The Fortunes of a Farmer.
Plane and Plank; or, The Mishaps of a Mechanic.
Desk and Debit; or, The Catastrophes of a Clerk.
Cringle and Cross–Tree; or, The Sea Swashes of a Sailor.
Bivouac and Battle; or, The Struggles of a Soldier.
Sea and Shore; or, The Tramps of a Traveller.
=Young America Abroad Series.= A Library of
Travel and Adventure in Foreign Lands. Illustrated
by Nast, Stevens, Perkins, and others. Per vol. 16mo. =1 50=
_First Series._
Outward Bound; or, Young America Afloat.
Shamrock and Thistle; or, Young America in Ireland and Scotland.
Red Cross; or, Young America in England and Wales.
Dikes and Ditches, or, Young America in Holland and Belgium.
Palace and Cottage; or, Young America in France and Switzerland.
Down the Rhine; or, Young America in Germany.
_Second Series._
Up the Baltic; or, Young America in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.
Northern Lands; or, Young America in Russia and Prussia.
Cross and Crescent; or, Young America in Turkey and Greece.
Sunny Shores; or, Young America in Italy and Austria.
Vine and Olive; or, Young America in Spain and Portugal.
Isles of the Sea; or, Young America Homeward Bound.
=Riverdale Stories.= Twelve volumes. A New Edition.
Profusely Illustrated from new designs by Billings. In
neat box. Per vol.
Little Merchant. Proud and Lazy.
Young Voyagers. Careless Kate.
Robinson Crusoe, Jr. Christmas Gift.
Dolly and I. The Picnic Party.
Uncle Ben. The Gold Thimble.
Birthday Party.
=Riverdale Story Books.= Six volumes, in neat box.
Cloth. Per vol.
Little Merchant. Proud and Lazy.
Young Voyagers. Careless Kate.
Dolly and I. Robinson Crusoe, Jr.
=Flora Lee Story Books.= Six volumes in neat box.
Cloth. Per vol.
Christmas Gift. The Picnic Party.
Uncle Ben. The Gold Thimble.
Birthday Party. The Do–Somethings.
=Great Western Series, The.= Six volumes. Illustrated.
Per vol. =1 50=
Going West; or, The Perils of a Poor Boy.
Out West; or, Roughing it on the Great Lakes.
Lake Breezes.
=Our Boys’ and Girls’ Offering.= Containing Oliver
Optic’s popular Story, Ocean Born; or, The Cruise of the
Clubs; Stories of the Seas, Tales of Wonder, Records
of Travel, &c. Edited by Oliver Optic. Profusely
Illustrated. Covers printed in Colors. 8vo. =1 50=
=Our Boys’ and Girls’ Souvenir.= Containing Oliver
Optic’s Popular Story, Going West; or. The Perils of a
Poor Boy; Stories of the Sea, Tales of Wonder, Records
of Travel, &c. Edited by Oliver Optic. With numerous
full–page and letter–press Engravings. Covers
printed in Colors. 8vo. =1 50=
FOOTNOTE:
[1] King Amedeo abdicated Feb. 11, 1874; and Alfonso XII., son of
Isabella II., was proclaimed king of Spain Dec. 31, 1874, thus
restoring the Bourbons to the throne. Alfonso was about seventeen when
he became king.