Unexplored Spain Part 23

At these two-year-old trials, or _Tentaderos_, it is customary for the owner and his friends to a.s.semble at the sequestered _rancho_--the event indeed becomes a rural fete, a bright and picturesque scene, typical of untrodden Spain and of the buoyant exuberance and dare-devil spirit of her people.

Nowhere can the exciting scenes of the _Tentadero_ be witnessed to greater advantage than on those wide level pasturages that extend from Seville to the Bay of Cadiz. Here, far out on spreading _vega_ ablaze with wild flowers, where the canicular sun flashes yet more light and fire into the fiery veins of the Andaluz--here is enacted the first scene in the drama of the _Toreo_. For ages these flower-strewn plains have formed the scene of countless _tentaderos_, where the young bloods of Andalucia, generation after generation, rival each other in feats of derring-do, of skill, and horsemanship.

The remote _estancia_ presents a scene of unwonted revelry. All night long its rude walls resound with boisterous hilarity--good-humour, gaiety, and a spice of practical joking pa.s.s away the dark hours and by daylight all are in the saddle. The young bulls have previously been herded upon that part of the estate which affords the best level ground for smart manoeuvre and fast riding, and the task of holding the impetuous beasts together is allotted to skilled herdsmen armed with long _garrochas_--four-yard lances, with blunt steel tip. All being ready, a single bull is allowed to escape across the plain. Two hors.e.m.e.n awaiting the moment, spear in hand, give chase, one on either flank. The rider on the bull's left a.s.sists his companion by holding the animal to a straight course. Presently the right-hand man, rising erect in his stirrups, plants his lance on the bull's _off-flank_, near the tail, and by one tremendous thrust, delivered at full speed, overthrows him--a feat that bespeaks a good eye, a firm seat, and a strong arm. Some young bulls will take two or more falls; others, on rising, will elect to charge. The infuriated youngster finds himself faced by a second foe--a horseman armed with a more pointed lance and who has been riding close behind. This man is termed _el Tentador_. Straightway the bull charges, receiving on his withers the _garrocha_ point; thrown back thus and smarting under this first check to his. .h.i.therto unthwarted will, he returns to the charge with redoubled fury, but only to find the horse protected as before. The pluckier spirits will essay a third or a fourth attack, but those that freely charge _twice_ are pa.s.sed as fit for the ring.

Should a young bull _twice_ decline to charge the _Tentador_, submitting to his overthrow and only desiring to escape, he is condemned--doomed to death, or at best to a life of agricultural toil.

Not seldom a bull singled out from the _rodeo_ declines to escape, as expected; but, instead, charges the nearest person, on foot or mounted, whom he may chance to espy. Then there is a flutter in the dovecotes!

Danger can only be averted by skilled riding or a cool head, since there is no shelter. Spanish herdsmen, however (and amateurs besides), are adepts in the art of giving "pa.s.ses" to the bull--a smart fellow, when caught thus in the open, can keep a bull off him (using his jacket only) for several moments, giving time for hors.e.m.e.n to come up to his rescue.

Even then it is no uncommon occurrence to see horseman, horse, and bull all rolling on the turf in a common ruin. Seldom does it happen that one of these trial-days pa.s.ses without broken bones or accidents of one kind or another.

For four to five more years, the selected bulls roam at large over the richest pasturages of the wide unfrequented prairies. Should pasture fail through drought or deluge, the bulls are fed on tares, vetch, or maize, even with wheat, for their debut in public must be made in the highest possible condition. The bulls should then be not less than five, nor more than seven years old.

The _tentadero_ at the present day brings together aristocratic gatherings that recall the tauromachian tournaments of old. Skill in handling the _garrocha_ and the ability to turn-over a running bull are accomplishments held in high esteem among Spanish youth. Even the Infantas of Spain have entered into the spirit of the sport, and have been known themselves to wield a dexterous lance.

At length, however, the years spent in luxurious idleness on the silent plain must come to an end. One summer morning the brave herd find grazing in their midst sundry strangers which make themselves extremely agreeable to the lordly champions, now in the zenith of magnificent strength and beauty. These strangers are the _cabrestos_ (or _cabestros_, in correct Castilian), decoy-oxen sent out to fraternise for a few days with the fighting race preparatory to the _Encierro_, or operation of convoying the latter to the city whereat the _corrida_ is to take place. Each _cabresto_ has a cattle-bell suspended round its neck in order to accustom the wild herd to follow the lead of these base betrayers of the brave. Thus the n.o.ble bulls are lured from their native plains through country tracks and bye-ways to the entrance of the fatal _toril_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AFTER THE STROKE.]

An animated spectacle it is on the eve of the _corrida_ when, amidst clouds of dust and clang of bells, the tame oxen and wild bulls are driven forward by galloping hors.e.m.e.n and levelled _garrochas_. The excited populace, already intoxicated with bull-fever and the antic.i.p.ation of the coming _corridas_, line the way to the Plaza, careless if in the enthusiasm for the morrow they risk some awkward rips to-day.

Once inside the lofty walls of the _toril_ it is easy to withdraw the treacherous _cabestros_, and one by one to tempt the bulls each into a small separate cell, the _chiquero_, the door of which will to-morrow fall before his eyes. Then, rushing upon the arena, he finds himself confronted and encircled by surging tiers of yelling humanity, while the crash of trumpets and glare of moving colours madden his brain. Then the gaudy hors.e.m.e.n, with menacing lances, recall his day of trial on the distant plain--hors.e.m.e.n now doubly hateful in their brilliant glittering tinsel.

What a spectacle is presented by the Plaza at this moment!--one without parallel in the modern world. The vast amphitheatre, crowded to the last seat in every row and tier, is held for some seconds in breathless suspense; above, the glorious azure canopy of an Andalucian summer sky; below, on the yellow arena, rushes forth the bull, fresh from his distant prairie, amazed yet undaunted by the unwonted sight and bewildering blaze of colour which surrounds him. For one brief moment the vast ma.s.s of excited humanity sits spell-bound; the clamour of myriads is stilled. Then the pent-up cry bursts forth in frantic volume, for the gleaning horns have done their work, and _Buen toro! buen toro!_ rings from twice ten thousand throats.

We have traced in brief outline the life-history of our gallant bull; we have brought him face to face with the matador and his Toledan blade--there we must leave him.[33] In concluding this chapter, may we beg the generous reader, should he ever enter the historic precincts of the Plaza, to go there with an open mind, to form his own opinion without prejudice or bias. Let him remember that to untrained eyes there must ever fall unseen many of the finer "pa.s.ses," much of the skilled technique and science of tauromachian art. The casual spectator necessarily loses that; he perceives no more difficulty in the perilous _suerte de vol-a-pie_ than in the simpler but more attractive _suerte de recibir_, and a hundred similar details. Finally, before crystallising a judgment, critics should endeavour to see a few second-or third-rate _corridas_. It is at these that the relative values of the forces opposed--brute strength and human skill--are displayed in truer and more speaking contrast. At set bull-fights of the first-cla.s.s, the latter quality is often so marked as partly to obscure the difficulties and dangers it surmounts. Watch _toreros_ of finished skill and the game seems easy--as when some phenomenal batsman, well set, knocks the best bowling in England all over the field. Yet that bowling, the expert knows, is not easy. Nor are the bulls. At second-rate fights the forces placed face to face are more evenly balanced; and there it is often the bull that scores.

THE MIURA QUESTION

A raging controversy, illuminative of Tauromachia, has recently split into two camps the bull-fighting world and agitated one-half of Spain.

The breeding of the fighting-bull is in this country a semi-aesthetic pursuit, a.n.a.logous to that of short-horns or racehorses in England, and the possession of a notable herd the ambition of many of the grandees and big landowners of Spain.

Among the various crack herds that of Don Eduardo Miura of Sevilla had always occupied a prominent rank; while during recent years the power and dashing prowess of the _Miureno_ bulls had raised that breed almost to a level apart, invested with a halo of semi-mysterious quality.

Captures occurred at every _corrida_; man after man had gone down before these redoubted champions, and the minds of surviving matadors--saturated one and all with gipsy-sprung superst.i.tion--began to attribute secret or supernatural powers to the dreaded herd. Not a swordsman but felt unwonted qualm when meeting a _Miureno_ on the sanded arena. Showy players with the _capa_ and the banderillos proved capable of giving attractive exhibitions, but it was another matter when the matador stood alone, face to face with his foe. Even second-cla.s.s _toreros_ can, with almost any bull, show off their accomplishments in these lighter seances; but in the supreme role--that of killing the bull as art demands--there is no room for half-measures or deceptions.

To valour, ability must be united. When those two qualities are not both coupled and balanced, then one of two things happens: Either the scene becomes a dull one, a mixture of funk and feebleness made patent all round; or disaster is at hand. This one hears forecast in the strange cries of this meridional people--from all sides come the shouts of "_Hule! Hule!_" Now _Hule_ is the name of the material with which the stretchers for the killed and wounded are covered!

At this period (summer of 1908) a combination of the bull-fighting craft attempted a boycott of the Miura herd, or at least double pay for killing them. This was done secretly at first, since neither would open confession redound to the credit of the "pig-tail," nor did it promise favourable reception by the public.

At this conjuncture a notable _corrida_ occurred at Seville--six _Miurenos_ being listed for the fight. Ricardo Torres (Bombita II.) despatched his first with all serenity and valour; with his second, a magnificent animal worthy of a royal pageant, he would doubtless have comported himself with equal skill but for an extraneous incident. Upon rushing into the arena this bull had at once impaled a foolhardy amateur named Pepin Rodriguez who (quite against all recognised rule) had madly sprung into the ring. The poor fellow was borne out only in time to receive the last religious rite.

At the precise moment when Ricardo stepped forth to meet his foe, the murmur reached his ear--Pepin was dead, and his superst.i.tious soul sank down to zero at that whisper from without. When the critical moment arrived--the popular matador stood pale, nerveless, incapable. Then the scorn of the mighty crowd burst forth in monstrous yells. Ricardo Torres had fallen from the pinnacle of fame to the level of a clumsy beginner.

In a moment he was disgraced, his increasing reputation ruined for ever under the eyes of all the world--and that by a _Miureno_ bull. From that moment the fallen star organised his colleagues in open rebellion against the victorious breed.

The line of action adopted was to abuse and libel the incriminated herd.

It was urged that the bulls lacked the true qualities of dash and valour and only scored by treachery; and especially insinuated that the young bulls were expressly taught at their _tentaderos_, or trials on the open plains, to discriminate between shadow and substance--in other words, to seek the man and disdain the lure--this naturally making the role of matador more dangerous, and double pay was demanded. To outsiders it would appear that on the day when bulls learn this, bull-fighting must cease.

A storm burst that raged all winter--all cla.s.ses taking part. Spain was rent in twain; press and people, high and low, joined issue in this unseemly wrangle. We cannot here enter into detail of the various schemes, fair and unfair, whereby the bull-fighters' guild sought to justify their action and their demands and to prejudice the terrible _Miurenos_ in the public eye. They were seconded by most professionals of renown, and soon all but seven had joined the league. But the squabble with its resultant lawsuits and sordid financial aspect finally disgusted the public.

Needless to add, a counter-a.s.sociation of bull-breeders had been forced into existence, which eventually, despite varied and particular personal interests unworthy of definition, united the opposition. Oh! it was a pretty quarrel and one in its essence peculiar to Spain. But it held the whole country engaged all winter in the throes of a semi-civil war!

At the first _corrida_ of the following season--held at Alicante January 18, 1909, and graced by the presence of King Alfonso XIII. in person--the public delivered their verdict, filling the Plaza to overflowing, although the whole of the six champions were of the condemned Miura breed and the matadors, Quinito and Rerre, belonged to the recalcitrant Seven. The bull-fighters' guild had received a fatal blow.

Such was the situation, the mental equilibrium between the fiercely contending factions, as the crucial period approached--the Easter _corridas_ at Seville. The _impresarios_ of that function, having full grip of the circ.u.mstance, engaged matadors of minor repute--Pepete, Moreno de Alcala, and Martin Vasquez. All three, although but of second rank, were popular and regarded as coming men.

Flaming posters announced that six champions of the Miura breed would face the swordsmen.

The occasion was unique, and D. Eduardo Miura rose to meet it, presenting six bulls of incomparable beauty, magnificent in fine lines, in dash, brute-strength, and valour, yet utterly devoid (as the event proved) of guile or lurking treachery. Such animals as these six demanded a Romero, a Montes, or a Guerrita as equals; instead, these young _Toreros_ who faced them, courageous though they were, lacked calibre for such an undertaking. This _corrida_ marked an epoch, but it acquired the proportions of a catastrophe. The bye-word that "where there are bulls there are no matadors" became that afternoon an axiom.

A _gettatura_, or atmosphere of superst.i.tion, surrounded the bulls and unnerved or confounded their opponents. Pepete was caught by the first bull, Moreno de Alcala by the fourth, while Martin Vasquez (already thrice caught) succ.u.mbed to the fifth.

The sixth bull thus remained unopposed champion of the Plaza--not a matador survived to face him, and it became necessary to entice an unfought bull (by means of trained oxen) to quit the arena--an event unprecedented in the age-long annals of Tauromachy!

A typical incident, trivial by comparison, intervened. A youthful spectator, frenzied to madness by the scene, had seized a sword, leapt into the ring, and ... promptly met his death.

Every contention of the bull-fighters' guild had been falsified, and the a.s.sociation collapsed. A Sevillian paper summed up the event thus:--

The six bulls were each worthy to figure in toromaquian annals for their beautiful stamp, their lines, weight, bravery, and caste. We witnessed a tragedy when, on the death of the fifth bull, not a matador remained. But had that tragedy been caused by malice, wickedness, or treachery on the part of the bulls, surely a declaration of martial law in this city would have been demanded by not a few! But that was not so; each of the six competed in the qualities of bravery, n.o.bility, and adaptability--such bulls are worthy of better swordsmen.

CHAPTER XX

SIERRA DE GReDOS

We met, our trio, on the platform of Charing Cross--not cla.s.sic but perhaps historic ground, since so many notable expeditions have started therefrom, with others of less importance.

The heat in Madrid towards the end of August (1896) was not excessive--less than we had feared. We enjoyed, that Sunday, quite an excellent bull-fight, although the bulls themselves had been advertised as of "only one horn" apiece (_de un cuerno_). There was no sign, however, of any cornual deficiency as each magnificent animal dashed into the arena, although with binoculars one could detect a slight splintering of one horn-point, a defect which had caused the rejection of that animal from the herd-list. For these bulls were, in fact, of notable blood--that of Ybarra of Sevillian _vegas_--and none bearing that name appear in first-cla.s.s _corridas_ save absolutely perfect and unblemished.

The point ill.u.s.trates the keen appreciation of quality in the fighting-bull, which in Spain goes without saying, yet may well deceive the casual stranger. Thus an American party who breakfasted with us (always keen to get the best, but not always knowing where to find it) despised the "Unicorns" and reserved themselves instead for the opera.

We enjoyed an excellent fight with dashing bulls--two clearing the barrier and causing a fine stampede among the military, the police, and crowds of itinerant fruit-and water-sellers who occupy the _Entre-barreras_.

These "Unicorns" proved really better bulls than at many of the formal _corridas_. Three young and rising matadors despatched the animals--two each. They were Galindo, Gavira, and Parrao--both the latter excellent.

Gavira looked as if he might take first rank in his order, while Parrao displayed a coolness in the _lidia_ such as we had seldom before seen--even to stroking the bull's nose--while in the final scene he went in to such close quarters, "pa.s.sing" the animal at half arm's-length, that the whole 10,000 in the Plaza held their breath.

Parrao will become a first-flighter, unless he is caught, which certainly seems the more natural event.

That evening we were hospitably entertained at the British Emba.s.sy, where our host, the Charge d'Affaires, regretted that the short fourteen-days' Ortolan season had just that morning expired. Thus, quite unconsciously, was an ornithological fact elucidated.

Next morning we were away by an early train, and after five hours'

journey joined our staff, as prearranged. But here we committed the mistake of quartering in a country-town on the banks of the Tagus, instead of encamping in the open country outside. Bitterly did we regret having allowed ourselves to be thus persuaded. Long summer heats and parching drought had destroyed what primitive system of natural drainage may have existed in Talavera de la Reina and produced conditions that we revolt from describing. Oh! those foul effluvia amidst which men live, and feed, and sleep!

With intense delight, but splitting headaches, we left the plague-spot at earliest dawn and set out for the mountain-land. For thirty odd miles our route traversed a highland plateau; a group of five great bustard, gasping in the noon-day heat, lay asleep so near the track that we tried a shot with ball. Farther north, near Medina del Campo, we had also observed these grand game-birds feeding on the ripening grapes in the vineyards. Packs of sand-grouse (_Pterocles arenarius_) with musical croak flew close around. Spanish azure magpies abounded wherever our route pa.s.sed through wooded stretches, and we also observed doves, bee-eaters, stonechats, crested and calandra larks, ravens, and over some cork-oaks wheeled a serpent-eagle showing very white below.

Towards evening the track began to ascend through the lower defiles of the great cordillera that now pierced the heavens ahead. Presently we entered pinewoods, resonant at dusk with the raucous voices of millions of wingless gra.s.shoppers or locusts (we know not their precise name) that live high up in pines. Never before had we heard such strident voice in an insect.