# Pictures of life in Mexico/Volume 1/Chapter 12

Contents
CHAPTER XII.
MEXICAN AMUSEMENTS.
The amusements of the Mexican people at the present day, are of the same character as the pastimes patronized so extensively in Spain, and some other countries of Europe, in the "good old times." The manner of conducting the sports is also similar; except that a few barbarisms, peculiar to the country, are superadded to those so carefully transmitted from European ancestors and discoverers.
Cock-fighting is a universal and favourite pastime; and the keepers of cockpits can well ​afford to pay the government a commission, which is regularly demanded, upon the profits of their transactions.
The scene of a cock-fight such as I witnessed, occurs in a low room on one side of the courtyard of an hotel, up several steps, beneath a kind of pent-house in the shade of a withered acacia. It is an hour after vespers; and people are flocking to the place with eager and expectant looks, jocosely talking and laughing together as they go. There is an open space in the centre of the apartment, with benches arranged round it, occupied by a motley assemblage of the townspeople. Foremost, are some gaily apparelled young gentlemen, with dark faces, lounging manners, and a dissipated air; their smartly laced and ribanded hats set jauntily on their heads, and their serapés of unusually varied and brilliant patterns. Behind them are some buckish store-keepers, with whose constitutions amusement appears to agree better than confinement to their shops and traffic. Some frequenters of a meaner character may also be seen, accompanied by several females; and in the background are a few Indians and Indian girls. The company are evidently in most impatient expectation, and are becoming ​perfectly riotous, when suddenly their faces are all at once bent forward, the noise is hushed, attention is concentrated on one point, their eyes dilate, and they listen eagerly.
Approaching footsteps, and a slight sound, as of a suppressed chuckle, are heard advancing; and a rakish-looking man enters the apartment, bearing under his arm a high-bred game-cock of a bright orange colour, armed with sharp spurs. The man's appearance is hailed with enthusiasm; but the bird is so evidently the hero of the scene, that his owner has some difficulty to prevent him being taken and handed round for the admiration of the company at large. By this time, however, another individual, with a smirk on his countenance, has arrived upon the ground, with a cock of a somewhat greyer hue under his arm. This bird is not quite such a favourite as the former, though he has his particular admirers; and his owner gazes upon him with a mingled expression of complacency and confidence.
After a few preliminaries of consultation and wagering, the cocks are exhibited to each other and encouraged by their respective owners, who make a clucking noise, and stroke ​the plumage of the birds. No sooner has each champion caught sight of his opponent, than his eye kindles, his wings flutter, and he manifests the utmost eagerness to begin the attack: they are then placed on the ground, opposite each other, at a little distance, and with a vindictive scream they both spring forward. Leaping up and meeting one another in full shock, they struggle wing to wing; they pounce upon each other with their beaks, and strike with their armed claws; blood spouts from the combatants, and feathers fly around. With torn and ruffled plumage, and bleeding, the birds are snatched up; the first round ends; and neither party can be said to have the advantage, though wagers are on the increase.
A short respite is afforded, and they are urged on again. Once more they encounter fiercely, and struggle in the air; and now one has succeeded in mounting upon the other, and pins him down; but only to be mastered and pinned down in his turn. Greater clamour and more betting! The orange-coloured cock this time is adjudged the greatest sufferer in the engagement; and the faces of his hitherto enthusiastic patrons lengthen accordingly.
A renewed attack; fortune appears to ​incline to the victim in orange. The grey one—perhaps from over-confidence—has made several false movements, and has suffered much. Obstreperous noise, and betting higher and louder than ever. Another encounter, another struggle,—the greyish bird is the victor. Amid screams and languid flapping of wings, heard above the human vociferations, he is finally acknowledged the conqueror; and his partisans, after many disputes and violent altercations, receive the coins, small or large, that have been staked upon the fight.
A second battle between two fresh game cocks is announced: but we have already seen enough of such an "institution" to satisfy curiosity.
Let us change the scene for one of a more imposing kind. It is mid-day: the sun shines in his full glory upon a crowded arena; his rays being reflected back from the burning ground, from burnished arms, glistening apparel, and radiant jewels. The heat is so intense, that the veiled ladies are glad to retire beneath the shades and awnings provided for them; and sundry gallant but effeminate cavalleros are proud to bear them company. The arena is spacious, of almost oval form; and the best ​points of view, whether for sitting or standing, have been eagerly contended for, and are fully occupied. Noble and beautiful ladies fill the seats of honour, their faces glowing with animation and anticipated pleasure, arrayed in the richest lace and embroidery; their heads, busts and arms, almost covered with gems and ornaments. Gentlemen, strutting in all the pride of sumptuous full dress, high station, and fancied superiority, attend the ladies; their sonorous voices and dignified gallantries breaking upon the ear from time to time; and the gorgeous variety of their fashionable attire and equipment, adding a bewildering splendour to the view. Priests also are there—holy ecclesiastics, clothed in their ample draperies and sacerdotal pomp, and as eager for the coming sport as the rest of the crowd. Showily dressed and subservient attendants on the ladies and cavalleros, townsfolk and tradespeople of every grade, with attendants and officers of the arena, make up the many coloured throng; which is fringed by dusky and dirty Indians lounging on the outskirts, and prodigious numbers of léperos and pickpockets.
Impatient exclamations, oaths and vehement ​altercations are heard, mingled with the clatter of staves, screams, and laughter; pushings and arrests occur momentarily; and, at last, shouts of exultation proceed from every side.
A trumpet sounds, folding-doors are thrown open, and every neck is strained to view the scene, as a bull is led in—a stout, powerful, young beast, in all the pride of unsubdued strength; the sharp tips of his horns have been cut off, but he still looks sufficiently formidable. The matadores and picadores come thronging in their gay costumes, in great numbers and high spirits, mounted on rather small horses, blindfolded; and bearing lances in their right hands, and red mantles on their left arms. There are a few matadores on foot; and, though they endeavour to brave it manfully, a shade of uneasiness may be detected in their eyes as they glance on their huge enemy; and a tinge of envy, also, as they gaze upon then mounted comrades.
The signal for the attack is given; the bull is let loose; and bending down his head and lashing with his tail, the animal makes a furious onslaught. A cloud of dust arises, notwithstanding the precautions against it—that bull's tremendous charge would raise ​dust out of anything—the ground appears to shake beneath the shock; terrific bellowings rend the air; the nostrils of the horses dilate in affright; and there is nothing to be seen but a confused mingling-of horses and men, lances and mantles, with the infuriated bull in the midst of the commotion. The tormented animal is soon enticed away to another part of the arena; as it appears that one of the matadores has been slightly hurt, and a horse badly crushed in the onset. The bull, moreover, has been pierced by many a lance, and the blood flows down his sides from numerous wounds. Loud shouts of applause greet the sanguinary spectacle!
Another flourish of trumpets. More dust and louder bellowings; a closer and a longer engagement. The bull's horns, though blunted, do fearful execution; one horse is killed; another is hurt; two men are carried away; and the enraged beast himself, bathed in blood and flecked with foam, begins to gasp and totter. The excitement is now at its height; and dames and cavaliers gloat on the horrible sight!
Another sharp and brief encounter; it is the last: neither men nor horses are injured ​now. Exhausted by loss of blood, the bull falls almost immediately, among the plunging spears and the hacking swords; and the poor beast, with prodigious throes and roars of agony, yields up his life a sacrifice to the amusement of the surrounding Christians, who exult in the slaughter, and applaud the actors in the disgusting show.
The affair has given complete satisfaction; but there is yet no sign of adjournment: still the spectators sit, and eagerly discuss the incidents of the hideous exhibition they have just witnessed. The measure of their barbarity is not yet full. A quarter of an hour elapses. After a business-like enjoyment of refreshments, strongly exemplifying their callousness, the doors of the arena are opened again, and this time a bear appears, followed by another bull. The bear is hailed with such extravagant enthusiasm, that his entrance constitutes a sort of triumph—an ovation to the spirit of bloodthirsty cruelty.
It would only disgust the reader to dwell at length on the particulars of this brutal engagement: suffice it to say, that the animals betray the utmost impatience to attack each other, though the bull appears most forward; the bear ​is very savage and irritable, but sulky. The instant they are let loose, they rush fiercely upon one another; but the shock is not so violent as before: the bull gores his adversary terribly with his blunted horns, yet the bear appears to offer little resistance to his attacks; he only hangs about the muzzle of the bull. Bruin appears sorely worsted at first, and seems to have made but very little impression upon his antagonist. A moment's breathing time, each glancing with dire animosity upon the other the while; then they again encounter, and the bear is sadly crushed and mangled: still he hovers round the bull's muzzle, as before. His purpose becomes apparent when the bull opens his mouth wide to bellow; for suddenly the bear seizes upon the bull's tongue with his fangs. The tortured bull exerts all his strength to throw off his assailant; but the bear's hold is tenacious, and relaxes not till he has torn out the tongue by the roots! This decides the combat: the bull, overcome by the agony, sinks down powerless at once, and is immediately dragged off the arena to die.
The bear, on these occasions, is always comparatively passive, until he can seize his ​adversary's tongue, and usually proves the conqueror, in consequence—if he does not previously expire of his wounds.
By this time, the evening hour is drawing near, and as a large concourse of all classes of people still linger on the ground, a good opportunity is afforded for observing one or two recreations of a minor character. The proprietors of dice-boards and monté tables forthwith begin to attract the attention of the throng; ragged Indians flock in crowds to expend their last granos in intoxicating aguardiente, or stand in groups scrutinizing the performance of dancing-girls; tradespeople and rustics of a better class form parties to dance the fandango; and the owners of fondas and refreshment-stalls in the neighbourhood are in expectation of a profitable harvest.
A lively group, figuring in the national dance to the sound of a guitar, attracts our attention at once. A pretty-looking girl with small hands and feet, dressed in a white cotton frontlet, flowered reboso, striped dress and sandals, is one of the principal figures; and a tall, dark youth, evidently her lover, is stationed opposite. The movements of the fandango appear to consist in inclining the head ​forward and sideways; waving and elevating the hands, and tripping lightly on the toes through a number of steps—"backwards, forwards, and round and round"—either singly or with a partner; but always gracefully. Several couples compose the group; but the performance of the young-girl, in particular, gives exquisite pleasure to numerous lookers-on, too old to dance themselves—amongst whom may be seen the parents of the heroine, their withered faces radiant with delight and exultation. The only blot upon the picture is the figure of a young man scowling grimly in the background, with his hand fumbling in his breast as if in search of some weapon: he is a rejected suitor, and his look is dangerous. As we turn away, after admiring the varied and easy attitudes of others in the party, a loud shriek is heard—the slighted suitor has rushed upon his favoured rival, knife in hand, the girl has sunk fainting to the ground, and the excited bystanders are endeavouring to separate the combatants.
"Monté, monté, Caballeros!" "Dice and fair play!" are the invitations buzzed about in subdued tones from one end of the crowd to the other. Entering a long, narrow apartment, ​under the wall of a patio, or court, we behold a number of tables duly set out for various games of chance, and presided over by sinister looking men, who do their utmost to entice you to tempt your fate. They have heaps of pesos, medios, and rials to stake, they say, and you have only to sit down with them to share the spoil; they are desirous that you should enrich yourself at their expense—you are sure to win three games out of every four—only they have a pleasure in playing: gain is not their object. Visitors are already seated at other tables; the laces of the majority burning with anxiety and eagerness; the game cannot be played quickly enough to keep pace with their impatience: at others, despair and anguish are even now gaining ascendancy over unfortunate players and at all, high words, curses, profane exclamations, and the utmost confusion, are beginning to prevail. Unwilling to be involved in the rude brawls continually arising here, we take our departure, musing on the fearful character of this universally absorbing amusement, and emerge once more into the open air.
Suddenly we come upon a band of Indians, quite overcome with the liquor they have ​recklessly swallowed whom a very inadequate party of police-officers are endeavouring to remove. Their efforts, however, only serve to irritate the Indians; whose eyes glow with the fury of intoxication, while they foam at the mouth, and utter wild shrieks; those among them who are armed struggle desperately with the officers; wounds are inflicted; groans are heard, and death is not unlikely result. Drinking and fighting form two of the staple recreations of vast masses of the population of this country.