The Story of Seville

by Walter M. Gallichan

In April, during the feria week, there is horse-racing on the broad meadows beyond the Paseo de las Delicias. English horses, ridden by English jockeys, sometimes compete in the races. The grand stand is a large one, with a long enclosure. It is well filled on race days with the rank and fashion of Andalusia. One is struck with the gravity of the spectators as contrasted with the animation of a British crowd upon a racecourse. The people are thoroughly enjoying the spectacle; but they do not shout, and there is no ring of bellowing bookmakers. Backers of horses purchase a ticket at a little office in the enclosure. There is only one of these offices, and there are no betting men behind the ropes of the course.

An element of pageant is introduced by the company of cavalry drawn up near the grand stand. When officers of the State arrive upon the course, they are saluted with a flourish of trumpets. A number of mounted men of the Civil Guard keep the course clear of pedestrians. The resplendent dresses of the ladies, the bright uniforms of the soldiers and the costumes of the jockeys make a brilliant scene in the dazzling southern sunshine.

But horse-racing is not the national pastime of Spain. Bull-fighting is deemed the nobler sport, and Seville has been called 'the Alma Mater of the bull-fighter.'[G] I do not here propose to describe one of these combats. Such descriptions have perhaps occupied an undue space in many books about Spanish ways and customs. The most reliable accounts of bull-fighting are to be found in Mr. Williams's The Land of the Dons, and in Wild Spain, by A. Chapman and W. T. Buck.

There is a handsome Plaza de Toros at Seville, built in 1870, with seats for fourteen thousand spectators. At Easter, and during the feria festivals in April, there are several fights in the arena, which are attended by immense crowds made up of all classes from the duke to the girls from the cigarette factory. The enthusiasm which bull fights evoke is so great that large crowds collect around the hotels, where the bull-fighters reside during Holy Week and fair time, in order to watch the heroes of the ring start for the Plaza de Toros.

I was in Seville during the feria of 1902, and I may now attempt to describe the scene on the Prado de San Sebastian. The city was thronged with sight-seers; every hotel and boarding-house was overcrowded, and hundreds of cattle and horse dealers, gipsies and itinerants slept on the fair ground in booths or upon the bare earth. I found the open space on the Prado covered with flocks of sheep and goats, droves of bullocks, horses, mules and donkeys, tended by picturesque herdsmen and muleteers in the dress of several provinces. An English carriage and pair of handsome horses paraded the ground, and changed hands at a high price. Caballeros rode their steeds up and down, to show off their points, and gipsy 'copers' haggled and chaffered. In the long row of refreshment tents was one bearing the sign of Los Boers. I entered one of the booths, and ordered a refresco, a bitter, syrupy decoction, with a tang of turpentine. Men and women were sipping this beverage with much zest, and watching the continual procession of holiday-makers under the trees. Everyone was quiet, orderly and sober. I did not see one drunken or quarrelsome person on either of the fair days, which I think may be taken as a token of the sobriety of the Spaniards. The diversions of the feria struck me as innocent, perhaps childish; but there was none of the coarseness and the squalor of a fair in England. There were only a few shows.

The Gitanas had their tents, where they danced to gorgio audiences, exacting exorbitant fees for each performance. Importunate gipsy dames stood at the doors of their tents, inviting the visitors to enter, and to taste their curious liquors, or to have their fortunes told. It was not easy to escape from these syrens, for they seized one's coat sleeve, and almost dragged one into their shows and booths. Some of the Gitana girls are remarkably handsome, and the gay colours of their clothing lend animation to this part of the feria.

One of the most interesting streets of the fair is that of the casetas, or pavilions of the influential Sevillians, who spend the day in receiving guests, dancing, guitar playing and singing. The doors of the casetas are open. You can look within at the merry company. The old folk sit around on chairs; someone clicks a pair of castanets, and a graceful girl begins to dance. Fans are fluttering everywhere; there is a soft tinkling of guitars. Dark eyes flash upon you, and red lips part in smiles as the hats of majos are raised. Some of the children are dressed in old Andalusian costume, with black lace over yellow silk, and mantillas upon their dark hair. They dance to the castanets, and win handclaps from grandfathers and grandmothers, who recall their own dancing days of forty or fifty years ago.

There is an iron tower in the centre of the fair ground. I ascended it, and gained a view of the bright crowd, the flocks, the prancing horses and the waving bunting everywhere displayed. At night the avenues of booths are illuminated with thousands of fairy lights, electric lamps and Chinese lanterns. The fair is then thronged in every part, and everyone submits to a good-humoured jostling. At this festive time you must be prepared for disturbed nights. The streets are never quiet by day or night, and there is a constant tramping up and down the stairs of the hotels. Long after midnight one hears the revellers in the plazas, singing and dancing to the clapping of hands or the strumming of guitars.

This 'fantastic pandemonium,' as it is called by a Sevillian rhymer, lasts for about eight to ten days. During the three days of the feria, the hotel charges are doubled, and in some cases trebled. The city profits considerably through the influx of visitors at this time, and also during Semana Santa, or Holy Week, when Seville is very crowded.

Nothing can prove so instructive concerning the Spanish devotion to ritual and religious pageant as a visit to Seville at Easter. The processions and celebrations of Semana Santa are exceedingly interesting from the artistic and the antiquarian point of view. All the costly vestments, the rare ecclesiastic treasures of the Cathedral, the works of artists and sculptors, and the sacred images of Christ and the Virgin are then displayed, in the midst of high pomp, to the adoring eyes of the vast crowds lining the streets and filling the windows. It is during these ceremonies that one may catch the spirit of mediævalism still surviving in Spain. Even the religious dances of antiquity are performed in the Cathedral before the high altar on Corpus Christi day. The dancers are boys, sixteen in number, and they are called the Seises. They dress in the costume of the reign of Felipe III.