CHAPTER XIV.
HOW TO STUDY SPANISH CHARACTER.—BULL-FIGHTS.—PROVISION FOR THE SPIRITUAL WELFARE OF BULL-FIGHTERS.—FIGHT BETWEEN AN ELEPHANT AND A BULL.—EXPEDITION TO THE CAVES OF ARTÀ.
BULL-FIGHTS, although we are told they are condemned by the priests, are still the fashion in Spain. They are the national fiesta, and to see the Spanish public in their natural characteristics one must go to these tumultuous scenes, as the "intelligent foreigner" is supposed to go to the Derby to comprehend the nature of the free-born Briton. The best bull-fights [34] are to be seen at Seville, that favoured city having the first pick of the noble bulls which are bred only in Andaluçia.
The season commences on the first Sunday after Lent, and, weather permitting, a funcion comes off each succeeding Sunday. During the intense heat of Midsummer there is an interval, but the sports are resumed at the end of August, continuing to the latter part of October, after which period the cold weather seems to exercise a depressing influence on the energy of the animal, preventing the full fury of the bullish nature from being aroused, and so renders this hero of the Spanish arena incapable of showing fight. The expense of each corrida is about £400 in the larger cities.
The spiritual welfare of the bull-fighters is always provided for at each funcion. Behind the scenes an altar is erected with burning candles, and a priest is ever in waiting to shrive any wounded man who may be carried dying out of the ring.
Common as may be descriptions of bull-fights to the world at large, we believe a corrida, which we had an opportunity of witnessing, has never been described before. It was a fight between an elephant and four bulls. The proprietor of the former animal was a Frenchman, who, inspired with the idea that such a novel combat would reinvigorate the palling taste of the public for scenes of slaughter, had bought an elephant, and, at an enormous outlay in loaves of bread and hay, not to speak of fresh water, was conducting him through the Spanish dominions with a challenge to all comers, in the way of bulls, to mortal combat—just as gentlemen of sporting tastes, with tight trousers, fur caps, and mufflers, go from place to place in England with a bull-terrier, backing him to kill so many rats a day.
We soon found our way, along with a babbling crowd, to the great white amphitheatre without the city, and seated ourselves on one of the benches which sloped up from the arena. The spectators consisted of the usual motley garlic-smelling multitude. All were smoking cigarillos, and, with flashing eyes awaited the commencement of the exciting spectacle. Within the circle below, and opposite to the doors which admit the bull, stood a noble elephant with long white tusks. A bright red cloth was thrown across his back, and while his small eyes seemed to survey, with a mild expression, the scene before him, he employed his time in breaking up loaves of bread, which, with the aid of his trunk, he deposited safely in his huge body—an operation which he performed apparently with much calm enjoyment.