The Sunny South: An Autumn in Spain and Majorca

by John William Clayton

I, of course, paid a visit to that peculiarly Spanish institution, the circus, in which the people of Madrid are accustomed to glut their savage taste for blood. Immense crowds were bending their footsteps in the direction of the great national spectacle, and like a straw in a torrent I was carried with them along the glaring and dusty road. The roar of the multitude was deafening, and shouts of laughter pealed in the air. The people were arrayed in their gayest holiday attire of lace and gold; and the young women flashed their bright eyes and tossed their black hair in response to the sallies of their cavaliers. Proud dames were borne through the rushing stream in stately carriages, attended by handsome gallants, pushing forward their foaming horses to keep by the side of the fair ones whose favour they sought. High and low, rich and poor, the young maiden and the gallant youth, the strong soldier and the tottering beggar, troops of children and aged crones,—an entire city's people—were jostling each other to be forward in the throng among the thousand horses and vehicles of every sort, and the masses of those who were on foot hastening in the blinding dust and heat along that yellow road.

The building in which the favourite sport takes place is an amphitheatre, having some resemblance to that of old Rome, open at the roof, through which a circle of the soft heavens can be seen hanging above like a broad and azure banner. An eager and seething multitude were struggling and pushing for entrance through the numerous doors and passages, until bank after bank was dark with the thick crowds of men, and all the balconies glowed with the bright garments, waving fans, and fair faces of women. Below was an extensive round space of ground, on which sand and sawdust were spread in anticipation of the approaching slaughter. It is difficult to convey the impression with which I heard around me in such a place the laughter of young girls and the prattle of little children. I could not but wonder for what reason these young creatures had been brought thither. When, at last, the seats and benches of the whole wide circle were filled, the walls seemed white with twelve thousand faces, and glowed with endless colours, while myriads of fans were constantly waving, and the hum of impatience proceeded from the vast assemblage.

At length a trumpet sounded with a loud, clear tone; a sigh of relief arose from the expectant multitude; and their eyes flashed with joy as the sun poured down upon the great ring of sand below in rays of dazzling light. The doors of the arena were opened wide, and a gay procession, consisting of those who were to take part in the sport, made its entrance, accompanied by the sound of martial music. A cavalcade of lancemen [16] and horsemen, clad in the velvet gear of a bygone age, were most conspicuous. [17] These were preceded by a band of footmen, decked in brave array of gold lace, their garments of the brightest hues, orange, violet, rose, and crimson. These men had over their shoulders numerous red cloths and scarlet flags, besides which each one carried in his hand a naked sword. The procession was closed by teams of mules, gaily attired, dragging at their heels a great iron hook.

This gallant company was a pleasant enough sight to the eye; and the maiden's cheek might well redden as the graceful forms of the strong young men, with thew and sinew swelling round and fair beneath the tight jackets of satin, the coloured pantaloons, and the silken hose, passed erect below, glittering bravely in the sunlight that streamed upon them. They all made a low salute to him who was master of the sports that day, and immediately after the arena was cleared of all save three lancemen, sitting silent and still on the backs of lean horses, which had their eyes closely bandaged. The various footmen, each with red cloak in hand, lingered around, behind, or nigh to the high wooden barriers surrounding the ring, as if in case of some anticipated danger.

When the hour announced for the commencement of the sport arrived, the vast assemblage became hushed in silence, which was at last broken by a shrill trumpet-peal that suddenly pierced the air. After a moment of suspense, a broad wooden door flew open, and in rushed a wild bull of Andalusia, decked with a flowing riband, or moña. The formidable-looking animal halted in mid-career, and with loud ominous snorts, glared savagely around at the great array of its persecutors, at the same time pawing the ground with ire, and wildly lashing its angry tail. In another instant, with his long horns lowered and levelled, and amidst a cloud of dust, he dashed round the ring swift as a bolt discharged from a catapult, hurling into the air, or casting down on the earth, everything in his path. Three horses which were in his way fell headlong with their riders in confused and dusty heaps, and lay quivering on the ground. The poor animals were disembowelled, and their blood tinged the sand, a sight which was greeted with the cry of "Bravo, Toro!" ringing from twelve thousand throats. A score of footmen leapt down into the ring, and quickly scoured to the scene of action, waving their scarlet mantles in the eyes of the enraged bull to draw off its attention from the picadores, who lay prostrate beneath their wounded horses. At the same time the mules were driven in, and the hook being applied, they galloped off with the carrion, which left a broad red track behind it. The bull, meanwhile, charging here, charging there, dashed now after one foe, now after another, as they darted about, carefully avoiding the long horns, which missed their mark, perhaps only by an inch, as the runner, stopping suddenly, leapt nimbly on one side, and left the furious beast to turn in pursuit of fresh tormentors, trailing a flaunting banner before his eyes. In one of his furious charges he came against the wooden barrier of the arena with a crash that shook the building. He was only half a foot behind the lithe form of one of his enemies, who assured his safety by vaulting over the barrier. A moment or two later, or an orange peel in his path, and no human power could have saved him.

After a series of impetuous charges, the first strength of the bull being exhausted, he was left panting for a short time without provocation, until the gates admitted three fresh lancemen, who urged their sorry blindfolded hacks into the ring with the sharp angles of their ample Moorish stirrups. With a wild snort, a shower of foam falling from his mouth, the bull rushed at the nearest horse; but the dexterous horseman, receiving the charge obliquely with the point of his lance, although well-nigh dismounted by the shock, caused the great beast to rear aside with the sudden smart. A shout of "Bravo, Picador!" arose from the crowd; but ere it ceased, the baffled brute, directing its attack against another opponent, had buried its horns up to its forehead in the ribs of the nearest horse, which, blinded as it was, stood there a mere butt for the onset. The rider's lance at the same moment was plunged into the neck of the bull, and blood flowed in torrents.

A fierce light now glared in the eyes of the people, of man and of maiden, as if the most ferocious instincts had been awakened in them. Near me I saw, in their private balcony, a stately dame alone with her beautiful daughter, both gazing with the deepest interest on the bloody contest. Some young ladies, the daughters of haughty grandees, were actually listening in such a place to the whispers of love from gallant young nobles, while they reclined luxuriously among cushions and flowers. Men were even beating with iron rods the fetlock joints of the dying horses, lest they should fail ere the bull was spent. Ripped and mangled as they were, they were compelled to stand on their legs for another onslaught. I can never forget one poor horse which I saw trotting across the ring to meet each charge with his entrails dragging in the dust. Another wretched animal, from whose eyes the bandage had fallen, looked around on the vast assemblage with an appealing glance; but there was no mercy in any heart that beat there.

Again a trumpet sounded, and several young men appeared in gay attire of lace, silk, and embroidery, with the velvet bonnet of Spain on their crisp shaved heads. The agility of their supple limbs seemed to equal that of the antelope; their forms were graceful as that of Apollo, and they were fearless as young lions. These, the banderilleros, bore in either hand long iron arrows, keen and barbed, to each of which was attached a web of coloured ribbons.