“The Holy Week is over, carriages
once more appear in the streets. The world claims
its own again. I have been to a bull fight and
am even now shivering with disgust of myself.
Still, it was a magnificent spectacle that
grand amphitheatre of beautiful faces, the hilarity
and gay confusion, the open homage, the child-like
enjoyment. Until these wild, brave animals came
bounding into the arena, there was nothing in the
scene which any out-door amusement might not exhibit.
Indeed, the gathering of an assembly in Spain is full
of spirited life. If a woman is beautiful, a
hundred voices tell her so as she presents herself
to the general gaze. When our party entered the
amphitheatre, a general murmur of admiring comments
hailed us. Beautiful superb fair
as a lily bright as an angel! were the
exclamations that followed that lovely creature as
she moved to her seat, leaning upon James Harrington’s
arm. No wonder he looked proud of her!
“Mrs. Harrington did not care
to see a scene so revolting, and I would have stayed
at home gladly, but they refused to hear of it, reason
as I might. It seems as if they were determined
to chain me like a slave to this girl’s chariot
wheels. Well, I can endure it. There must
have been thousands of persons present, for the great
amphitheatre was full long before the Infanta appeared
with her family and her royal guests. She was
received with exclamations, and took her seat with
a slight bow of recognition and a smile full of eloquent
thanks for the popular favor so pleasantly manifested.
Two or three lovely children were in the box, evidently
eager for the fighting to commence. Soon after
the Infanta was seated, a man richly dressed, and
of noble presence, strode across the arena, flung
his cap on the ground, and made a profound bow to the
royal party. The Infanta arose, leaned a little
forward and cast a golden key at his feet. This
key was to unlock the door which connected the arena
with the compartment outside, in which the wild bulls
were kept.
“All this time the man had stood
with his back toward us. When he stooped to pick
up the key and turned from the presence, Lucy Eaton
uttered a faint cry, and her mother caught hold of
my arm with a grasp that pained me. ‘Oh
mercy oh mercy! It is it
is the Duke,’ she exclaimed, ‘What can
he be doing there?’
“‘I think it is his place,’
I answered in a low voice. ’Hush, I would
say nothing about it.’
“I looked at Lucy. She
was white as snow, and her eyes dwelt on the man with
a frightened stare.
“‘Why is he there?’
she whispered, shivering perceptibly. ’Tell
me, if you can, what it means.’
“‘What are you inquiring
about?’ questioned General Harrington, bending
toward us with suave politeness. ‘Anything
that I can tell you?’
“‘Who is that man?’
I inquired, observing that Lucy could not speak without
bursting into tears.
“‘Which man?’
“‘That person in the arena, who was just
bowing to the Infanta.’
“’Oh that man? He
is the chief matadore. The best bull-fighter in
all Spain.’
“‘A matadore, a bull fighter!’
almost shrieked Mrs. Eaton, turning upon her daughter
and snatching a moss rose from her bosom where it held
the folds of her muslin dress together. ’Fling
it away, child. Pitch it after him. The
humbug the impostor the the ’
“Here the good woman broke down
for want of breath, and rattled her fan open with
a vicious twist of the hand, as if she longed to box
some one’s ears with it.
“I saw that Lucy was troubled
and that her lips were quivering. General Harrington
had turned his attention to the arena, for that moment
the matadore was crossing towards a door in the wall,
and the first wild bull was expected momentarily.
He was so absorbed that he did not heed Mrs. Eaton’s
angry exclamations, though her husband did.
“’What is the matter,
mother. Why, you will smash that fan to flinders;
it cost ’
“‘No matter how much it
cost,’ said Mrs. Eaton; ’I don’t
think these Spaniards care about that, or anything
else but cheating the very eyes out of your head.
The impostors!’
“‘Why, who has been cheating us, mother?’
“‘Never you mind. Oh mercy!’
“Lucy, too, gave a faint scream
and clung to me like a frightened child. No wonder.
That instant a door in the wall swung open, and a black
bull rushed through. With a bound or more he
plunged into the heart of the arena, tossed his head
upwards, and stood motionless surveying the great
concourse of people with his flaming eyes, as if making
up his mind where to plunge first.
“A shout followed his appearance,
for he was a beautiful savage creature, with a superb
chest and head, black and glossy as a raven.
Ladies clapped their hands and waved their gossamer
handkerchiefs in wild enthusiasm, while the general
shout rolled upward like thunder. This terrified
the creature till he tore up the earth and plunged
hither and thither in his madness, bellowing hoarsely
through the tumult, and leveling his horns at the
crowd as if he burned to toss every one in sight.
“Then the matadores came in,
closely dressed, glittering with embroidery and a
profuse display of buttons. One carried a red
cloak in his hand, with which he taunted and exasperated
the bull into hot rage. Then the contact commenced.
The Matadores, slight, agile and vigilant, fell to
tormenting the noble creature into new wrath.
They flung their cloaks over his eyes, they leaped
on his back and away again, pricked him with their
swords, taunted him from a distance, and, when he made
a mad plunge upon them, slipped through some secret
door in the wall and laughed at his grave astonishment.
“Lucy looked on all this, fascinated.
Tears stood in her eyes, but an eager curiosity shone
through them.
“‘There must be some mistake,’
I heard her murmur. ’He is not among them.’
“She was undeceived. The
bull had begun to exhaust his rage, his tormentors
had done their utmost, and the people wanted more excitement.
He came in then, splendid as an Apollo, tall,
lithe, powerful. Then followed the lightning
play of human intelligence and trained strength against
savage impulse. The man was everywhere at the
same moment. His sword flashed now here, now
there, up and down like a quiver of lightning.
He would entice the animal close to him, and just as
his fierce horns were lowered, leap astride his neck,
and land, with a bound, ten feet away. Now he
darted under him, now made a flying leap over his
back, cheered on, and accompanied by waving handkerchiefs,
eager hands, and bursts of admiring applause.
“A new feature was added to
the scene. Several horses were brought in, blindfolded
and old, ridden by inferior matadores. One of
these poor creatures was urged up to the waiting bull,
which made a rush at his chest with both horns, tore
his way to the vitals, and let the heart out, almost
heaving the beast from the earth as those murderous
horns rent their way out of his body.
“Oh! it was sickening; the smell
of the hot blood, the overwhelming bravos, the exultation
of delicate women and innocent children, as the infuriated
bull plunged his horns, reddened to the frontlet, again
and again into that writhing breast. I wish I
had never seen it. In fact I could not see clearly,
for every thing grew misty from the sick shuddering
that fell upon me. I shivered down in my seat
and shut my eyes, degraded and full of self contempt,
that any thing should have brought me to that horrid
place.
“I would have gone home, but
the confusion was so great, and the crowd so dense,
that I dared not propose it, especially as General
Harrington joined heartily in the enthusiasm, and
would, I feared, resent any interruption.
“So I sat there, with my head
bowed and my face covered, loathing myself and everything
around me. A shriek from Lucy Eaton brought me
out of this state. Starting up, I saw the man
she had called a duke, tossed high in the air, whence
he came to the earth with a crash. This stunned
him for a moment, but before the bull could follow
up its advantage, he sprung to his feet, flung his
scarlet cloak over the creature’s eyes, and
gave the signal for a general attack.
“Out rushed the matadores in
a body, armed with javelins and darts, feathered at
the ends with fringes of variegated paper, and sharp
as steel at the head. These were hurled at the
bull, and as each struck through his jetty hide, fire-crackers
concealed in the paper ornaments, gave out a storm
of noisy fire; another and another darted
through the air, thicker and sharper, till the tortured
animal bellowed out his agony in pathetic helplessness,
and fell upon his knees exhausted. Then the matadore
drew toward the Infanta and seemed waiting for some
signal. She smiled, lifted her hand, closing
all but the delicate thumb. This was a death
signal for the poor brute, who seemed to know that
his fate was coming, and staggered up from his knees
ready to fight for the last breath of his life.
“Then commenced a fresh onset
of death. The bull fought desperately, staggering,
reeling, plunging and making fierce attacks with his
horns, while the fire-crackers blazed around him,
and a hundred javelins quivered in his body.
The matadore became cool and cautious as his victim
grew more and more frantic. He played with the
creature’s agony, flitted here and there in
the smoke of his torment, pierced his sides with the
point of his sword, and flung fresh javelins into the
bleeding wounds. The Infanta lifted her thumb
again. The Matadore saw it. His sword flashed
in the sunbeams like a gleam of fire, fell on the animal’s
dripping neck, and he sank to the earth, dead.
“More of this happened that
day; twelve of those splendid beasts were brought
forth to slaughter and be slaughtered one after another.
Some, braver than the rest, were sent back alive;
but that ornamented sledge dragged off twelve of the
finest creatures I ever saw. At last, even the
Spanish ladies became weary of this terrible work.
As for me, I went home sickened, and so nervous I
could not rest.”