If The President Orders
Out The Horses Before Their Time, He Will Hear Remarks By No Means
Complimentary From The Austere Groundlings.
The second act is the play of the banderilleros, the flag-men.
They are
beautifully dressed and superbly built fellows, principally from
Andalusia, got up precisely like Figaro in the opera. Theirs is the most
delicate and graceful operation of the bull-fight. They take a pair of
barbed darts, with little banners fluttering at their ends, and provoke
the bull to rush at them. At the instant he reaches them, when it seems
nothing can save them, they step aside and plant the banderillas in the
neck of the bull. If the bull has been cowardly and sluggish, and the
spectators have called for "fire," darts are used filled with detonating
powder at the base, which explode in the flesh of the bull. He dances
and skips like a kid or a colt in his agony, which is very diverting to
the Spanish mind. A prettier conceit is that of confining small birds in
paper cages, which come apart when the banderilla is planted, and set
the little fluttering captives free.
Decking the bull with these torturing ornaments is the last stage in the
apprenticeship of the chulo, before he rises to the dignity of matador,
or killer. The matadors themselves on special occasions think it no
derogation from their dignity to act as banderilleros. But they usually
accompany the act with some exaggeration of difficulty that reaps for
them a harvest of applause. Frascuelo sits in a chair and plants the
irritating bannerets. Lagartijo lays his handkerchief on the ground and
stands upon it while he coifs the bull. A performance which never fails
to bring down the house is for the torero to await the rush of the bull,
and when the bellowing monster comes at him with winking eyes and
lowered head, to put his slippered foot between the horns, and vault
lightly over his back.
These chulos exhibit the most wonderful skill and address in evading the
assault of the bull. They can almost always trick him by waving their
cloaks a little out of the line of their flight. Sometimes, however, the
bull runs straight at the man, disregarding the flag, and if the
distance is great to the barrier the danger is imminent; for swift as
these men are, the bulls are swifter. Once I saw the bull strike the
torero at the instant he vaulted over the barrier. He fell sprawling
some distance the other side, safe, but terribly bruised and stunned. As
soon as he could collect himself he sprang into the arena again, looking
very seedy; and the crowd roared, "Saved by miracle." I could but think
of Basilio, who, when the many cried, "A miracle," answered, "Industria!
Industria!" But these bullfighters are all very pious, and glad to curry
favor with the saints by attributing every success to their
intervention. The famous matador, Paco Montes, fervently believed in an
amulet he carried, and in the invocation of Our Lord of the True Cross.
He called upon this special name in every tight place, and while other
people talked of his luck he stoutly affirmed it was his faith that
saved him; often he said he saw the veritable picture of the Passion
coming down between him and the bull, in answer to his prayers.
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