THE LAST SCENE IN THE CAREER OF ESPARTERO.

Otago Witness, Issue 2231, 3 December 1896, Page 47

THE LAST SCENE IN THE CAREER OF ESPARTERO.

I saw Espartero die. Bef qre I went to the bull-riDg in Madrid, on ihe summer day on wbicb he met his doom, I felt in my heart that he was fo die. I wanted to warn him Why aid I not do so ? The thing happened iv this way. I had been to a corrida — as tbe Spaniards call a performance in tbe ring— a fortnight before. T had seen two bulls killed out ot the six. who. are always sacrificed in the great national festival, and bad then fled from the plaoe in shame and indignation. I had seen emaciated and helpless horees slaughtered in agony, so that tbe cowards who call themselves "picadores" might escape tbe maiming they deserved. I bad witnessed the vilest and most brutalising epeotacle that survives anywhere in civilised Europe, and I wanted an outlet for the contempt and rage it had raised within me. Espartero entered the ring, and I saw tb.B death-light in his eyes. Did be know it as I knew it? Did he feel as I felt 7 I saw the zing lit up with red and gold, millions of little lights shot through my brain, and the stone beneath me began to Blip. I sat breathless thero for a moment, waiting with closed eyes. The crowd began to roar, and I opened my eyes to see the -duel 15ft, away. I watched Espartero with fever in my mind, and Heaven knows whether I cared or not for the fate that hung in the balance. I do not know myself. I only know that when the fighter struck I leapt from my seat, and thought the end had oome. Not yet. He did not make the right lunge, and had only pierced the creature's hide. The [ bull oame on, and fighter and sword were i thrown 10ft above the ground, I knew no harm had oome, yet fingers seemed to fasten on my throat and to bid my heart stand still. He picked himself up quickly and watohed the bull, as his friends pressed around to ask if be were hurt. He shook his head, but I saw him clutch his side as though in pain, and then he asked for another sword. The bull was worrying the carcase of a horse near by. Banderilleros surrounded him with their flags, ready to keep him at bay. Soon they left the spot, and again the .bull and his executioner were alone. I was sore now that Espartero's destiny was olosed. I don't know why I didn't rise and tell him so. I^at still instead, and waited for the blow. Tbe man had lost his nerve, and in his face there was an emotion which I myself have known. It is the feelirg that there is no more chance ; that the chapter is finished ; | that you can do nothing, and do not care. I ! once pitched headlong from a height, and in my descent I felt that laat despair. It is indescribable and unforgettable. All your life unrolls before you, and all the years seem brought within the compass of a gasp. I knew the rocks that lay 60ft below me ; and midway in my fall, ignorant of or indifferent to the Providence that was to save me, I never oared a straw about the end. I would take it as it came. I knew it had come, and I can feel again tbe fantastic repose of that whirring instant— a sorb of leaning on the peace of eternity. So Espartero must have felt. His cheek was white and his hand trembled, but he did not care. I know these things. He was only 15ft away. I saw him meet the bull and wave his flag. The bull glared back in fury. Big, dripping with foam and blood, stamping his hoofs like an angry horse, and brandishing his horns and tail, he looked a figure from imagination run mad. The man teased on and never dropped his Sag. The bull put down his horns and never ceased to lunge, fighting the flag with ! all hi 3 heart and eoul ; but suddenly the cry from the seats grew terrible to hear, and Espartero let his safeguard fall. My cheeks were as oold as ice, and my temples throbbed as though there were hammers in them. The boll stood at gaze for a moment that was breathless and deadly. He looked hie nemy over like a king. And then the ■word went home, Home? — yes, to the; very bulwark of that tfon heart; t bnji pot before tbe mteht* bead swent

down and struck the reokless fighter full upon the ohe&t. Esparlero fell like a shot and' roiled along the ground. He bad not been gorad, but the bull had struck him with the' force of a catapult, and had hurt him beyond reoall. Defiant, despairing, resolved to kill, though all his hope bad gone, E3partero had run at him fall tilt instead of waiting for the charge. Ordinarily the bull passes under the light arm of the fighter. This Espartero has failed to reokon with. He met the ball in front and fell between the horns. Men sprang to help him, bat the bull was quick, and people screamed at that which happened next. The boms bore on, and ploughed beneath the lighter's form. They tcooped it up and hnrled it along the sand. By some miracle the bull had struck too low and could not gore. In a twinkling they had caught his eye with the fl »gs, and he roamed wildly about the ring. The sword was buried to the hilt In hi? body, and yet he lived. He quieted and walked elowly up and down. The crowd of lightened cowards fell away like rushes. The ring was bis. Men lifted the fallen toreador and went 6wiftly along the barrier, keeping olose so that a leap could save thorn if the bull perceived their rotreat. Ho disdained to see. Still be paoed the sand, and jttst as Espartero disappeared the bull sank down and died. I cannot conceive a kinglier death than hla. Ha fell like Borne great pillar. The bulk and beauty of bis giant frame went down with dignity and pomp. I can never forget him. He was the bravest creature I ever saw.— Royal Cobxissoz, in Harper's Magazine.