A TRANSPLANTED SPORT
The bull-fight as an amusement is the exclusive property of the Spaniard.
It originated in Spain and has never spread beyond the limits of Spanish
conquest. Perhaps it is this very exclusiveness that causes them to cling
to it so tenaciously, though legislatures and governments have made
vigorous efforts to abolish the brutal spectacles. It is, according to a
native writer, a proof of the superiority of the Spaniard, because “the
Spanish men are as much more brave than other men, as the Spanish bull is
more savage and valiant than all other bulls.” Rather, it seems to me to
be a survivor of the ancient gladiatorial contests, or fights between man
and beast in the great amphitheatres of Rome.
I had never before, even when standing within the historic walls of the
Colosseum, been able to picture in my own mind the scene of the arena
crowded with combatants while the expectant multitude filled the seats
in tier upon tier, until I found myself within the great bull-ring of
Madrid. There was the arena, and round about were the eager throng, a
crowd of fourteen thousand human beings who impatiently and anxiously
awaited the sound of the bugle which would announce the opening of the
spectacle of blood and brute torture. Then it was possible to understand
how, in an earlier and more brutal age, the Roman populace gloated over
the combats where the death of some of the participants was as much
fore-doomed as the fate of the bull who enters the ring to-day with a
defiant toss of his horns.
If popularity is to be judged by the amount of patronage, then the
bull-fight is the most popular amusement in Mexico to-day. The national
life is permeated with the sport. The Sunday bull-fight is the topic of
conversation in the capital for the following week. Even the children
indulge in imitations of this favourite game in their childish way. It
is only on Sundays and feast days that the _corrida de toros_ occurs.
Six days shalt thou do nothing and on the seventh go to the bull-fight,
runs an old Madrid saying. They probably go on the theory that a good
entertainment is better on that day than any other. It is useless to
argue with a Spaniard or Spanish-American about the brutality or
inhumanity of these spectacles as they will immediately remind us of the
prize-fights within our own borders which frequently result in death.
This is a gentle hint that we should clean our own Augean stables before
telling our neighbours what they should not do. Perhaps it is a rebuke
that is not entirely out of place.
The Plaza de Toros is always a great, circular building of stone or wood
with little pretence or ornament. It is built for the bull-fight and for
no other purpose. The interior is an immense amphitheatre, with seats in
tiers rising to the top where the private boxes are located. These alone
have a roof, as all the rest of the structure is open to the sky. Half
the seats are exposed to the bright sun and the other half are in shadow.
The seats on the _sol_, or sunny side, generally cost only about half
as much as those in the _sombra_, or shady part. The fights are usually
advertised “if the time and weather permits.” The ring itself is an arena
about a hundred feet in diameter, encircled by a high board fence with
a lower barrier on the inside, which serves as a means of escape for a
_torero_ who is too closely pursued by the irate bull. Sometimes a bull
will leap over this first barrier and then an exciting race follows.
An American will not soon forget the first sight of the full
amphitheatre. The scene is an exciting one and there is a tension of
the nerves in anticipation of what is to come. The bands play and, if
there is any delay, the thousands of impatient spectators will shout and
yell themselves hoarse. There is usually a cheer when the president for
the occasion and his companions take their seats. At length the gates
opposite the president are opened and a gaily caparisoned horseman,
called the _alguacil_, appears. He asks permission to kill the bulls.
This being granted, the president tosses him the key to the bull-pen,
which he catches in his hat. He is cheered if he does catch it and hissed
if he fails. The gate opens again and the gay company of bull-fighters is
announced by the blast of trumpets. These men arrayed in costumes of red,
yellow, green and blue silks, satins and velvets, glittering with beads,
jewels and gold braid, form a brilliant spectacle as they march across
the arena to salute the president, after the manner of the gladiators of
old. Every one taking part in this exhibition appears in this procession,
from the _matador_ to the men with wheelbarrows and shovels who clean up
the arena after each performance. I said all, but the principal character
himself is reserved until later. After saluting the president the company
march around the ring to receive the plaudits of the people.
The bull-fight is a tragedy in three acts. After the company have
withdrawn, the door through which the bull enters is unlocked and the
first act begins with a flourish of trumpets. The bull rushes out from a
dark stall into the dazzling light, furious with rage and trembling in
every limb. This is an intense moment and all eyes are centred upon the
newcomer. As he enters, a barbed steel hook covered with flowing ribbons
is placed in his shoulder. The ribbons indicate the ranch or _hacienda_
from whence he came. Even the street urchins can recognize the colours of
a _hacienda_ which has the reputation of producing animals that are noted
for their belligerent qualities.
Startled by the intense light and enraged by the stinging of the steel
hook, the bull stands for an instant recovering his senses. Sometimes he
will paw the earth, toss the dust over his back and bellow his defiance.
Around him in the ring are the _capeadores_, men on foot carrying red
capes, and _picadores_, men on horses armed with lances. These latter
sit motionless as statues upon their steeds that are blindfolded ready
for the sacrifice.
After a moment of uncertainty, the bull dashes either at a _capeador_
or _picador_. The former quickly runs to the barrier and nimbly leaps
over, leaving the bull more infuriated than ever. The horse attracts
his attention next and there is no way of escape for this poor, old,
broken down servant of man. The _picador_ makes no effort to save his
steed, which is blindfolded so that he may not see his danger, but simply
plants his blunt spear-point in the shoulder of the brute. Sometimes this
will save the horse, but it does not please the audience for a certain
number of horses must be sacrificed. More frequently the bull will, with
a single toss of the horns, overthrow both horse and rider in a heap.
The _capeadores_ then hover around with their cloaks and distract the
attention of the bull from the prostrate rider who is helpless because of
his iron armour. Once I saw a rider fall on the back of the bull much to
the surprise of both. It is seldom that a _picador_ is killed, for the
bull will nearly always leave him and chase a red cloak.
Fortunate, indeed, is the horse that is instantly killed. If able to
walk, he is ridden around in the ring again with blood streaming from
his wounds and trampling upon his own bowels. Or the poor brute may be
sewed up in a crude, surgical way in order to enable him to canter around
the ring a few more times. Once, only, in an experience covering several
bull-fights in several countries, have I seen a horse drop dead from the
first blow. The fight is not complete without the shedding of the blood
of horses, and sometimes the crowd will clamour for more horses before
this act is closed. There must be enough, for economy in this feature
will place the people in a bad mood. The audience must be catered to,
for if disappointed they are likely to demolish the ring and tear up
the seats as a method of showing their displeasure. This, in itself, is
sufficient to prove the debasing and brutalizing influence of this sport.
In the second act the _banderilleros_, men who plant the _banderillas_
in the neck of the bull, appear in the arena. This is the most artistic
and most interesting act in the entire performance, for great skill is
displayed and little blood spilled. These men come in the ring without
cape or any means of defence and depend entirely upon their skill and
agility for safety. They are finely dressed and are usually superbly
built fellows with lithe and muscular bodies. The _banderillero_ takes
with him a pair of barbed darts about two feet long and covered with
fancy coloured paper with ribbon streamers. He shakes these at the bull,
thus provoking an assault. Then, just when he seems to be on the bull’s
horns and the novice turns his face away to avoid the scene, he plants
the darts in the gory neck of the bull and steps lightly aside. These
darts re-enrage the bull, who has been getting rather tired of the whole
affair. He attacks whatever engages his attention. It may be only a dead
horse which he will then tear open, being aroused to fury by the smell of
the blood.
[Illustration: PLANTING THE _BANDERILLAS_]
There are usually two of these men and each plants four darts in the
bull’s neck. They must be placed in front of the shoulder and so firmly
inserted that they will not be shaken out. If successful in these
particulars, then the _banderillero_ who is a favourite will receive
prolonged applause and a perfect volley of complimentary comments. Even
the _matador_ himself ofttimes deigns to take part in this act. If so, he
performs the act in some daring and novel way. They will sometimes sit in
a chair and thus plant the darts, or take a pole and vault over the bull
after placing them. Occasionally a bull is cowardly and will not fight.
Then “fire” is called for and darts filled with powder which explodes in
the flesh are used. This will cause the bull to dance and skip around in
his agony, which is very pleasing to the audience and furnishes variety
to an otherwise monotonous exhibition.
The trumpet sounds the last act. This is the duel,—the death. Everything
has been done with reference to this act. The first two acts have been
intended to madden the animal and tire him by the violent exercise and
loss of blood. He is panting, his sides heave as though they would burst,
his neck is one mass of blood over which, as if in mockery, hang the
many-hued darts. The man with the sword would not stand much show with
a fresh and unwearied animal. This actor is the _matador_, or _espada_,
and, if known as one who kills his bulls with a single stroke of the
sword, he will receive great applause on entering. He steps forward to
the president’s box and makes a little speech, offering to kill the bull
to the honour of Mexico. Throwing his hat to some one in the seats,
(for it is considered an honour to hold any of his apparel) the hero
advances sword in hand toward the bull, who, during this by-play, has
been entertained by the cape-bearers again. He bears in his left hand a
staff, called the _muleta_, over which is a red flag, and in the right
a keen-edged sword. The flag serves both as a lure to the beast and a
protection to the man. He is usually pale and always alert, and studies
the animal for a moment to ascertain his disposition. This can not be
prolonged for the audience will not brook delay. The tension of nerves is
too great. As the bull makes a rush for the red flag, with head lowered,
the _matador_ plunges the keen blade into the bull’s shoulders up to the
hilt. The bull staggers and dies.
It is wonderful to see how excited and enthusiastic the crowd becomes
when the _matador_ has made a skilful killing. They rise and cheer and
wave their handkerchiefs. As he passes around the ring to receive their
applause, a perfect volley of hats, coats, handkerchiefs, and cigars are
thrown toward him. These are tossed back except the cigars or any money
that may have been included. If the killing has been poorly made, or in
a bungling manner, hisses replace cheers and boards or chairs may be
thrown instead of hats and cigars. At a fight in Guatemala City I saw one
_matador_ chased out of the ring, and he did not return again during that
performance. This was done after he had made three unsuccessful attempts
to kill the bull and had plunged two swords into the poor, tortured
animal without striking a vital spot.
Then comes the finale. Teams of gaily-decked mules are brought in to
drag out the dead bull and horses. The bloody places are covered over
with sawdust in order to prevent slipping. Even before the dead animals
are removed, the two or three _picadores_ appear on other sorry-looking
steeds, even worse than the first ones if such a thing were possible. The
trumpet sounds, the door flies open and another bull comes rushing in
to meet the same fate as the first. The play begins again with the same
variety of sickening incidents. Others follow in regular order until the
usual number of six bulls have been dispatched. The management is usually
very careful not to promise more than will be performed, for they know
the temper of the audience too well. At a bull-fight in Madrid, which I
attended, the management had promised ten bulls in its posters but the
tickets only called for eight. After the eighth bull had been dispatched
the end was announced, but the crowd refused to leave. All over the vast
amphitheatre rang the cry “_otro toro_” (another bull), repeated over
and over again in one swelling cadence with ever-increasing volume.
The management was obdurate and the multitudes left muttering their
maledictions.
Formerly gentlemen of the court mounted on the finest horses in the
kingdom entered the arena and fought the bull like the knights of old.
Now the sport has degenerated and is performed by professionals hired for
the purpose. I once had the opportunity of witnessing a bull-fight by
the Portuguese method. This is the bull-fight deprived of its disgusting
details. It is even more exciting and dispenses with the killing of both
bull and horses. The men with the red cloaks are employed just the same
but the men who place the _banderillas_ are mounted on horses. They are
not broken-down hacks, but magnificent, well-trained animals and good
care is taken that the bull does not make sausage meat of them. As a
further protection, the points of the bull’s horns are covered with balls
to prevent injury to the horses. Their sport consists in riding past
the bull, and placing the darts without permitting the bull to touch
the horse. It is a feat that requires great skill and a steady nerve.
After the bull is thoroughly tired out, a number of oxen are driven in
the ring, the exhausted bull is taken out and another one brought in to
continue the sport. In any form bull-fighting is bad enough, but if a
line can be drawn between degrees of evil, the method of the Portuguese
is the least to be condemned.
Tauromachy has many devotees who follow the fights in all their features
as the base ball fan watches the sporting page of the American newspaper.
In some places the spectacles are reported in all their most minute
details, even down to the number of minutes it took the bull to die
after receiving the fatal stroke. The killing of bulls is a science
and there are many different schools which have been founded by great
masters. A renowned _matador_ receives as much attention as the champion
prize-fighter in English speaking countries. They receive great sums of
money but are almost invariably improvident and save little. The fights
are not unattended by danger, for deaths are not infrequent and serious
injuries are a common occurrence.
Ladies attend these spectacles and seem to derive as much pleasure as
those who are supposed to be made of sterner stuff. Their black eyes
sparkle with excitement and they shower their appreciation upon the
successful one without reserve. It is the place for dress as the opera
is in other lands. All the gallantry in the Spanish nature comes to the
front on the way to and at the bull-fight. The enthusiasm, the manners,
the expressions—all are distinctly national.
In Mexico the light on the horizon seems to be growing brighter, and the
beginning of the end of this brutal and un-American sport is apparently
in sight. It is not in favour with the present officials in the national
capital and in many of the state capitals. Three of the most important
states absolutely forbid the bull-fights, and heavy penalties are
provided for any violations of the law. Statutes to prohibit them have
been enacted in the federal district on more than one occasion, but they
have been as often repealed so great was the popular demand for them. The
best people do not now attend the performances in the City of Mexico but
this fact has made little diminution in the crowd. Their places are taken
by foreigners resident there, many of whom are among the most ardent
supporters of the sport. I predict that within the next decade there will
be few states in the Republic of Mexico that will permit the bull-fight
within their borders. Such action may curtail a profitable industry and
remove a good market for worn-out horses, but these material losses
will be more than compensated in the development of those elements of
character which can not be measured by the low standard of mere dollars
and cents.