THE NEW SPAIN:

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8704, 18 August 1906, Page 2

THE NEW SPAIN:

The Fascination of the Bull-FiffJit. (By EDGAR WALLACE in the " Daily Mail.") MADRID, Friday, May 25. Yesterday I watched Madrid a.t play. In the great Plaza del Torres I saw a huge circle of banked faces rinsing tier on tier, and heard the hum of fourteen thousand voices, and saw the sun glitter on thousands of fluttering fans. There was a stir, and fourteen thousand heads turned toward tie highperched royal box. A young man in the scarlet coat of the dragoons entered, raised his hand 'stiffly to the buzzing crowd, and took his seat. There was no cheer, no " viva "—the King's German brother-in-law has not gripped the popular fancy. An unshaven photographer, operating a blundering camera and a big cigar at one and the earn© time, spoke thiroojgh the unoccupied-, corner of his mouth. " A3i J it will be different when the Queen comes!" And the pafchetio thing was that he 6poke in. tones of joyful anticipation, as though, in th© new Queen Victoria, bull-fighting was to reoedve a fillip which would €stabl'eh it for ever as the premier sport of Europe. ALL EYES OK THE ENGLISH QTTEEIf. Next week the young Queen will preside at hex first sight. She will sithigh up in the flower-decked tribune, the focussing point of thousanidis of curious ey€6, all knowing the Englishwoman's detestation of such sjSort, and watching for the pallor that oom€6 to the face of even the " nerviest" of untiried spectators. She will ccc the Spanish bull — the bravest and most ferocious of God's creatures — in all his wild rage; ©he will ccc wretched hacks driven to their death, and lithe, catlike men with nerves of ice playing with destruction .. And not alone on th© day she makes her bow to the clamouring ring, but day after day at intervals h<e>r figure will b& seen in the royal box, her head, dtnapod in a white mantilla, bent to th© plaudits, of the Madnileno, till the play and the horror aaid the fascination of bull-fighting will become a matter of Habit, and her heart will no longer beat furious tattooes w3*en the trumpet wails, and a nimble official throws open a tliick doca- of the bullpen, a-nd tihiere steps into tie light, warily, inquiringly, an animal all aquiveT with fierce wrath.

Best for her, since the bull-ring must b&oome part of her life, if eihe shuts her ey«s to the picador urging forwaj-d. the ambling, scraggy brute of a horse he rides, and accepts philosophically the quick plunge of the bull and the tcse of 3iis head beneath the breast of the horse, and the tumbling pdcador sprawling within a yard of the needlepointed t horns. For she may reflect that this same bony hemse, did he not meet swift death in tie sanded arena, might di© lees comfoirtably; and more lingeringly — even of starvation — in Si>ain, a country where homseflesh is latently regarded, and where the " Mend of man " is an idiom untranslatable. Best for her, too, if site wa-Naheß thefdght of sights, concentrating her thoughts, her emotions, and heir philosophies upon the supreme moment of tho tiring when the ma-tadoir takes the flword from his . attendant, raises his hand in salute to the occupants of the tribunal — quaint Riirvival of the gladiator's farewell — throws Ins cap across the barrier with tihat peculiar swing of his that is inimitable, and w«llns slowly towards the beast that awaits him in the centre of the arena. FIRST IMPRESSIONS REVISED. Travellers who vieit Spain writ© lurid impressions of the^r first bull-fight. They denounce it as-inhuman, barbaric, and beyond defence. Then they go again to the bull-ring to see if their first impresiaion was justified— and finding that it was, go a third time to make sure. By the time they have seen their sixth fight they are more bloodthirsty than the^Spaniards, and 6hout for more horses and "fire" for the cowardly bull. I have always enjoyed bull-fighting, because it throws me back to the days when my ancestors lived in caves and beat one another's heads off in the settlement of all disputes. If you love a horse the sight Is sickening; if your fondness embraces all animal life, it is hopelessly cruel ; if you are a vegetarian, it is sacrilegioue ; For me, and for thousands of Britishers who know the 6tory of bull-fighting and have studied its art, and. can tell instantly the blundering kill from the clean, straight stroke of the ir-a^ter bull-fighling has fascinations wh»ch all its horrors cannot destroy. And it is the last scene of all Ihat draws you back and~baek ag^.in to the Plaza. The bandillercs have played the br.II, and the blarct of the trumpet calls them off. The bull stands trembling mhli rage in the circle of the gaily coloured fighters. Then from the b.irr'sr, fx-m his salute, comes a slight fiq^trn of a man. hatkss. in his left hand a Woe idred flag, in his right a thin, red l.iJtcd sword. . . "Maehiffnito.! Maemqmto! \ A roar of greeting comes \o h'm {rom the packed barreras, but ne scaicely acknowledges it. Foredoomed. His thin, sesthetic face, tho_ thick black eyebrows, the firm, delicatelyshaped mouth are known from one end of Spain to the other. Now, the face is tense, and white. Not with fear, for Machiquito does no!: know it, ( and some day this daring little ma<n will end his days in the bull-ring. Ho nears the group, and the play of oloaks begins. Flick! The bull turns as ©wift as lightning, and springs at the cloak. He misses by a hands-breadth, and the flutter of another clo^k 6ends him spinning in another direction. Now comes the delicate part of the day's work. Machiquito raises his red flag, and the^bull jumps with a curious sideloria; thrust of his head. A warning yell goes up from ten thousand throats, for the trained observers , have Been that the bull is aiming at the man and not at the flag. Again the flicking of cloaks and the sharp, mad rushes and the hands-breadth escapes. This is not for th© fighter's amusement; it ha-s a purpose. You may not kill/ a bull by the laws of the ring except he stand with feet ill such a position and head at such a poise. So back and forward goes Machiquito's flag, till suddenly the bull stands still, and fighter and victim face eaoh other. The silence of death comes on the banked crowds j for the feet of the bull are in the right position, and the ,head is at the angle. Slowly the right hand of the matador rises and the ewovd lieslevel with his* eye. In a moment the bull jumps, and Machiquito springs towards him — straightforward to what looks like certain death, co that his breast is between the horns of the bull, and his glittering coai ecrapes the bull's forehead. There is a flash of steel. ... You cannot from a humanitarian poinb of view defend bull-fi ghts any moro. than you can prize-fighting or licking the soul out of two-year-old

horses for the sake of a 6 to 4 startingprice coup. It is brutal, it is often disgusting — it is, if you wish, the indication of national decadence — but it is the greatest "thrill" in the world.