BULL-Fighting, a sport or exercise much in vogue among the Spaniards and Portuguese, consisting in a kind of combat of a cavalier or torreadore against a wild bull, either on foot or on horseback, by riding at him with a lance. The Spaniards have bull-fights, i. e. feasts attended with shows, in honour of St John, the Virgin Mary, &c. This sport the Spaniards received from the Moors, among whom it was celebrated with great eclat. Some think that the Moors might have received the custom from the Romans, and they from the Greeks. Dr Plot is of opinion, that the Ταυρομαχία among the Thessalians, who first instituted this game, and of whom Julius Cæsar learned and brought it to Rome, were the origin both of the Spanish and Portuguese bull-fighting, and of the English bull-running. This practice was prohibited by Pope Pius V. under pain of excommunication incurred ipso facto. But succeeding popes have granted several mitigations in behalf of the torreadores.

From the following account of a bull-feast in the Coliseum at Rome 1332, extracted from Muratori by Mr Gibbon, the reader may form some idea of the pomp, the ceremonies, and the danger which attended these exhibitions. "A general proclamation as far as Rimini and Ravenna invited the nobles to exercise their skill and courage in this perilous adventure. The Roman ladies were marshalled in three squadrons, and seated in three balconies, which on this day, the third of September, were lined with scarlet cloth. The fair Jacova di Rovere led the matrons from beyond the Tiber, a pure and native race, who still represent the features and character of antiquity. The remainder of the city was divided between the Colonna and Ursini families: the two factions were proud of the number and beauty of their female bands; the charms of Savella Ursini are mentioned with praise; and the Colonna regretted the absence of the youngest of their house, who had sprained her ankle in the garden of Nero's tower. The lots of the champions were drawn by an old and respectable citizen; and they descended into the arena or pit, to encounter the wild bulls, on foot as it should seem, with a single spear. Amidst the crowd, our annalist has selected the names, colours, and devices of 20 of the most conspicuous knights. Several of the names are the most illustrious of Rome and the Ecclesiastical State; Malatesta, Polenta, della Valle, Cafarello, Savelli, Cappoccio, Conti, Annibaldi, Altieri, Corsi. The colours were adapted to their taste and situation. And the devices are expressive of hope or despair, and breathe the spirit of gallantry and arms. "I am alone, like the youngest of the Horatii," the confidence of an intrepid stranger: "I live disconsolate," a weeping widower: "I burn under the ashes," a discreet lover: "I adore Lavinia or Lucretia," the ambiguous declaration of a modern passion: "My

faith is as pure," the motto of a white livery: "Who is stronger than myself?" of a lion's hide: "If I am drowned in blood, what a pleasant death!" the wish of ferocious courage. The pride or prudence of the Ursini restrained them from the field, which was occupied by three of their hereditary rivals, whose inscriptions denoted the lofty greatness of the Colonna name: "Though sad, I am strong;" "Strong as I am great;" "If I fall (addressing himself to the spectators) you fall with me:"—intimating (says the writer), that while the other families were the subjects of the Vatican, they alone were the supporters of the Capitol. The combats of the amphitheatre were dangerous and bloody. Every champion successively encountered a wild bull; and the victory may be ascribed to the quadrupeds, since no more than eleven were left on the field, with the loss of nine wounded and 18 killed on the side of their adversaries. Some of the noblest families might mourn; but the pomp of the funerals, in the churches of St John Lateran and St Maria Maggiore, afforded a second holiday to the people. Doubtless it was not in such conflicts that the blood of the Romans should have been shed; yet, in blaming their rashness, we are compelled to applaud their gallantry; and the noble volunteers, who display their magnificence and risk their lives under the balconies of the fair, excite a more generous sympathy than the thousands of captives and malefactors who were reluctantly dragged to the scene of slaughter."

A striking relic of barbarity in the Spanish manners of the present day, is the excessive attachment of that nation to bull-fights, a spectacle which shocks the delicacy of every other people in Europe. Many Spaniards consider this practice as the sure means of preserving that energy by which they are characterized, and of habituating them to violent emotions, which are terrible only to timid minds. But it seems difficult to comprehend what relation there is between bravery and a spectacle where the assistants now run no danger; where the actors prove by the few accidents which befall them, that theirs has nothing in it very interesting; and where the unhappy victims meet only with certain death as the reward of their vigour and courage. Another proof that these spectacles have little or no influence on the disposition of the mind is, that children, old men, and people of all ages, stations, and characters, assist at them, and yet their being accustomed to such bloody entertainments appears neither to correct their weakness and timidity, nor alter the mildness of their manners.

The bull-fights are very expensive; but they bring great gain to the undertakers. The worst places cost two or four reals, according as they are in the sun or in the shade. The price of the highest is a dollar. When the price of the horses and bulls, and the wages of the torreadores, have been paid out of this money, the rest is generally appropriated to pious foundations; at Madrid it forms one of the principal funds of the hospital. It is only during summer that these combats are exhibited, because the season then permits the spectators to sit in the open air, and because the bulls are then more vigorous. Those which are of the best breed are condemned to this kind of sacrifice; and connoisseurs are so well acquainted with their distinguishing marks, that as soon as a bull appears upon the arena,

arena, they can mention the place where he was reared. This arena is a kind of circus surrounded by about a dozen of seats, rising one above another; the highest of which only is covered. The boxes occupy the lower part of the edifice. In some cities, Valladolid for example, which have no place particularly set apart for these combats, the principal square is converted into a theatre. The balconies of the houses are widened, so as to project over the streets which end there; and it is really a very interesting sight to see the different classes of people assembled round this square, waiting for the signal when the entertainment is to commence, and exhibiting every external sign of impatience and joy. The spectacle commences by a kind of procession around the square, in which appear, both on horseback and on foot, the combatants who are to attack the fierce animal; after which two alguazils, dressed in perukes and black robes, advance with great gravity on horseback; who go and ask from the president of the entertainment an order for it to commence. A signal is immediately given; and the animal, which was before shut up in a kind of hovel with a door opening into the square, soon makes his appearance. The officers of justice, who have nothing to do with the bull, prudently hasten to retire, and their flight is a prelude to the cruel pleasure which the spectators are about to enjoy. The bull, however, is received with loud shouts, and almost stunned by the noisy expressions of their joy. He has to contest first against the picadores, combatants on horseback, who, dressed according to the ancient Spanish manner, and as it were fixed to their saddles, wait for him, each being armed with a long lance. This exercise, which requires strength, courage, and dexterity, is not considered as disgraceful. Formerly the greatest lords did not disdain to practise it; even at present some of the hidalgos solicit for the honour of fighting the bull on horseback, and they are then previously presented to the people, under the auspices of a patron, who is commonly one of the principal personages at court.

The picadores, whoever they may be, open the scene. It often happens that the bull, without being provoked, darts upon them, and every body entertains a favourable opinion of his courage. If, notwithstanding the sharp-pointed weapon which defends his attack, he returns immediately to the charge, their shouts are redoubled, as their joy is converted into enthusiasm; but if the bull, struck with terror, appears pacific, and avoids his persecutors, by walking round the square in a timid manner, he is hooted at and hissed by the whole spectators, and all those near whom he passes load him with blows and reproaches. He seems then to be a common enemy, who has some great crime to expiate; or a victim, in the sacrifice of which all the people are interested. If nothing can awaken his courage, he is judged unworthy of being tormented by men; the cry of perros, perros, brings forth new enemies against him, and large dogs are let loose upon him, which seize him by the neck and ears in a furious manner. The animal then finds the use of those weapons with which nature has furnished him; he tosses the dogs into the air, who fall down stunned, and sometimes mangled; they however recover, renew the combat, and generally finish by overcoming their ad-

versary, who thus perishes ignobly. If, on the other hand, he presents himself with a good grace, he runs a longer and nobler, but a much more painful career. The first act of the tragedy belongs to the combatants on horseback; this is the most animated and bloody of all the scenes, and often the most disgusting. The irritated animal braves the pointed steel which makes deep wounds in his neck, attacks with fury the innocent horse who carries his enemy, rips up his sides, and overturns him together with his rider. The latter, then dismounted and disarmed, would be exposed to imminent danger, did not combatants on foot, called chulos, come to divert the bull's attention, and to provoke him, by shaking before him different pieces of cloth of various colours. It is, however, at their own risk that they thus save the dismounted horseman; for the bull sometimes pursues them, and they have then need for all their agility. They often escape from him by letting fall in his way the piece of stuff which was their only arms, and against which the deceived animal expends all his fury. Sometimes he does not accept this substitute, and the combatant has no other resource but to throw himself speedily over a barrier, six feet high, which incloses the interior part of the arena. In some places this barrier is double, and the intermediate space forms a kind of circular gallery, behind which the pursued torreadore is in safety. But when the barrier is single, the bull attempts to jump over it, and often succeeds. The reader may easily imagine in what consternation the nearest of the spectators then are; their haste to get out of the way, and to crowd to the upper benches, becomes often more fatal to them than even the fury of the bull, who, stumbling at every step, on account of the narrowness of the place and the inequality of the ground, thinks rather of his own safety than of revenge, and besides soon falls under the blows which are given him from all quarters.

Except in such cases, which are very rare, he immediately returns. His adversary recovered, has had time to get up; he immediately remounts his horse, provided the latter is not killed or rendered unfit for service, and the attack commences; but he is often obliged to change his horse several times. Expressions cannot then be found to celebrate these acts of prowess, which for several days become the favourite topic of conversation. The horses, very affecting models of patience, courage, and docility, may be seen treading under their feet their own bloody entrails, which drop from their sides half torn open, and yet obeying, for some time after, the hand which conducts them to new tortures. Spectators of delicacy are then filled with disgust, which converts their pleasure into pain. A new act is however preparing, which reconciles them to the entertainment. As soon as it is concluded that the bull has been sufficiently tormented by the combatants on horseback, they retire and leave him to be irritated by those on foot. The latter, who are called banderilleros, go before the animal; and the moment he darts upon them they plunge into his neck, two by two, a kind of darts called banderillas, the points of which are hooked, and which are ornamented with small streamers made of coloured paper. The fury of the bull is now redoubled; he roars, tosses his head, and the vain efforts which he makes serve only to in-

crease the pain of his wounds: this last scene calls forth all the agility of his adversaries. The spectators at first tremble for them, when they behold them braving so near the horns of this formidable animal; but their hands, well exercised, aim their blows so skilfully, and they avoid the danger so nimbly, that after having seen them a few times, one neither pities nor admires them, and their address and dexterity seem only to be a small episode of the tragedy, which concludes in the following manner: When the vigour of the bull appears to be almost exhausted; when his blood issuing from twenty wounds, streams along his neck and moistens his robust sides; and when the people, tired of one object, demand another victim; the president of the entertainment gives the signal of death, which is announced by the sound of trumpets. The matador then advances, and all the rest quit the arena; with one hand he holds a long dagger, and with the other a kind of flag, which he waves backwards and forwards before his adversary. They both stop and gaze at one another: and while the agility of the matador deceives the impetuosity of the bull, the pleasure of the spectators, which was for some time suspended, is again awakened into life. Sometimes the bull remains motionless, throws up the earth with his feet, and appears as if meditating revenge.

The bull in this condition, and the matador who calculates his motions and divines his projects, form a group which an able pencil might not disdain to delineate. The assembly in silence behold this dumb scene. The matador at length gives the mortal blow; and if the animal immediately falls, a thousand voices proclaim with loud shouts the triumph of the conqueror; but if the blow is not decisive, if the bull survives and seeks still to brave the fatal steel, murmurs succeed to applause, and the matador, whose glory was about to be raised to the skies, is considered only as an unskilful butcher. He endeavours to be soon revenged, and to disarm his judges of their severity. His zeal sometimes degenerates into blind fury, and his partizans tremble for the consequences of his imprudence. He at length directs his blows better. The animal vomits up blood; he staggers and falls, while his conqueror is intoxicated with the applause of the people. Three mules, ornamented with bells and streamers, come to terminate the tragedy. A rope is tied around the bull's horns, which have betrayed his valour, and the animal, which but a little before was furious, and proud, is dragged ignominiously from the arena which he has honoured, and leaves only the traces of his blood and the remembrance of his exploits, which are soon effaced on the appearance of his successors. On each of the days set apart for these entertainments, six are thus sacrificed in the morning, and twelve in the afternoon, at least in Madrid. The three last are given exclusively to the matador, who, without the assistance of the picadores, exerts his ingenuity to vary the pleasure of the spectators. Sometimes he causes them to be combated by some intrepid stranger, who attacks them mounted on the back of another bull, and sometimes he matches them with a bear; this last method is generally destined for the pleasure of the populace. The points of the bull's horns are concealed by something wrapped round them, which breaks their force. The animal, which in this state is called Em-

bolado, has power neither to pierce nor to tear his antagonist. The amateurs then descend in great numbers to torment him, each after his own manner, and often expiate this cruel pleasure by violent contusions; but the bull always falls at length under the stroke of the matador. The few spectators who are not infected with the general madness of this sport, regret that those wretched animals do not, at least, purchase their lives at the expence of so many torments and so many efforts of courage; they would willingly assist them to escape from their persecutors. In the minds of such spectators, disgust succeeds compassion, and satiety succeeds disgust. Such a series of uniform scenes makes that interest become languid, which this spectacle, on its commencement, seemed to promise. But to connoisseurs, who have thoroughly studied all the stratagems of the bull, the resources of his address and fury, and the different methods of irritating, tormenting, and deceiving him, none of these scenes resembles another, and they pity those frivolous observers who cannot remark all their varieties.

The Spanish government are very sensible of the moral and political inconveniences arising from this species of frenzy. They have long since perceived, that among a people whom they wish to encourage to labour, it is the cause of much disorder and dissipation; and that it hurts agriculture, by destroying a great number of robust animals, which might be usefully employed: but they are obliged to manage with caution a taste which it might be dangerous to attempt to abolish precipitately. They are, however, far from encouraging it. The court itself formerly reckoned bull-fights among the number of its festivals, which were given at certain periods. The Plaza-Mayor was the theatre of them, and the king and the royal family honoured them with their presence. His guards presided there in good order. His halberdiers formed the interior circle of the scene: and their long weapons, held out in a defensive posture, were the only barrier which they opposed against the dangerous caprices of the bull. These entertainments, which by way of excellence, were called Fiestas Reales, are become very rare. Charles III. who endeavoured to polish the nation, and to direct their attention to useful objects, was very desirous of destroying a taste in which he saw nothing but inconveniences; but he was too wise to employ violent means for that purpose. He, however, confined the number of bull-fights to those, the profits of which were applied to the support of some charitable institution, with an intention of substituting for these other funds afterwards. Bull-fights, by these means being rendered less frequent, will, perhaps, gradually lose their attractions, until more favourable circumstances permit the entire abolition of them.