The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1822-08-23 00:00:00

SPAIN.

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LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF SCO7TiSFI LIFE•

• A volume, comprising a rich variety of interesting
narrative, has lately been• published under the above
title. The author seems to aim at conveying
simple moral lesson through the medium oT wits-
tentatiosis, but by no uterus nupoliolted lauguage.
Ills characters, too, are. drawn from that sphere of
life in which he is likely to find most readers, who
tan scarcely fail in the perua•d of ibis volume to
strike some chord which will retaken a kindred feel-
ing in their own bosoms. The incidents, with same
few exceptions, are those of common life, of daily
occurrence, and upon them are founded a number
af well-written tales, which, besides ionsessing the
'agreeable 'polity of occasionally changing from
" grave to gay," from " lively to severe," are still
feirther recommended by one which, amongst that
class of readers, at least, who have recourse to books
only as a villa from the cares and tumult of busi-
ness, is of no mean consideration—we mean brevity.
For the present we have selected the concluding
portion of a story which must be classed amongst
the shadows of life. It is a subject which has fre-
quently been in the hinds of writers of talent and
✓elined feelings, but we doubt whether it has ever
been clothed in langnage of more pure and touch-
ingp.ahos than by the author of this unpretending
volume.

The extract which we subjoin is descriptive of
the fatal termination of the sufferings of three
lovely at.d virtuous sisters from an hopeless con-
sumption, whose baleful poison had mit,gled itself
with the first springs of life. They had been left
orphans, and had run a brief career of meek and
patient 'virtue, in the daily performance of acts of
charity and kindne•s:—

" Caroline was the first to die. Her character, unlike
that of both her Mates'', had been distinguished by great
spirit and vivacity, and when they were present, had always
diffused tomething of its own glad light over the serene cam-
insure of the one, and the melancholy stillness of the other,
wilbont seeming ever to be inconsistent with them; nor did
her natural and irrepressible buoyancy altogether forsake her
even to the very last. With her the disease assumed ii.
most beautiful show. Her light b!ue eyes sparkled with as-
lant:bang brilliancy—her checks, that had always hitherto
Leen pale, glowed with a rose-like lustre; although slickness
that she was dying, anti strove to subdue her soul down to
her sear fare. yet, in spite of herself, the strangie fire that
glowed in the embess of her life, kindled it often into •
kind of airy gladness, so that a stranger would bare
thnught her one on whom opening existence was just
revealing the treasures of its joy, and who was eager
to unfolJ her wings and sail on into the calm and
sunny future. Her Out, till within a few days of her death,
was gay in the exhilaration of disease; sod the very night
be fore she died she brindled the harp witt a playful band,
and warbled, as long as her strength would petntis, a few bars
of a romantic tone. No Otte was with her wheat she died,
for she had elecs earlier than her sisters, and was found by
them when they came down to the parlour leaning back with
a smiling faro on the sofa, with a few lilies in her hand, and
never more to have her head lifted up in life. The youngest
had gone first, and she was to be followed kry`Etssma, the
next in age. Emma, althungh in like her sister who was
now dead, 'that they had always been thought by strangers
to be twins, had a character altogether different. Her
thoughts and feelings were in a deeper channel; nature had
endowed her with eximordikary talests, and whatever she
attempted, serious acquisition or tight accomplishment, is
tint she easily excelled. Few, indeed, is the number of
woolen that are eminently distinguished among their sex,
nail leave names to be enrolled in the lists of fame. Some
siccideutsl circumstances of life or death breve favour.
ed those few, sad their sentiments, thoughts, ft-climes, fan-
tit'', and opinions, retain • permanent existence. But bow
many sink into the grave in all their personal beau,y and
sli their mental charms, and are heard of no more ! Of them
no bright thoughts are recorded, no touching emotions—no
imaginatious. All their fine and true perceptions,alt
the it instinctive knowledge of the human soul, and all heir
piziie *peculation on the enyioery of human life, vanish fur
ere, and die with the parting breath. A fair, amiable, and
intelligent young maiden lass died, and is buried. That is
all ; end her grave lies in its tear:sited rest. Such 311 one
was Emma Beatouri. Her mother, her sister+, and a few dear
fa ieuds, knew what treasures of thought were in her soul—
what gleams of genial., and what light of unpretending
wisdom ; but she carried up her pure and high thoughts
with her to heaves—nor did any of them survive her on
faith. but et few fragments of hymns set by herself to plain-
tive music, which so voice but her own, so deep aril yet so
sweet, so mellow yet so mournful, could I vrr have fitly song.
" Louisa, the eldest, was sow left alone, and although
her health had always been the most delicate, there seemed
from some of the symptoms • slight hope shit she might yet
recover. That fatal her tic flush did not stain her cheeks,
and her pulse, although very faiut,had out the i.regularity of
alarming fever. But there are secrets known but to the dying
themselves ; sad all the encouraging kindness of friends was
receivrd by her as sweet pronto of offs ction, but never once
touched her heart with hope. The disease of which both her
raters had died was in the blood of her !attire,: family, and
she never rose up from her bed or her couch in the grey
osier seat is the sunny garden, without feeling a deatb.like
lassitude that could sot lung endure. Indeed she y d
fur the peeve, and hen was • weariness that could only find
entire relief in the perfect stillness of the narrow house.

'• Had Louisa mot felt death in ber bosom. there were ele-
ct:meteors.s that could not have failed to make bee deiire life,
ei,rn after her brother and sisters had been taken away ; fur
obe had bees betrothed for • year past to one who would
bare made ber happy. He 'elicited an account of the
alarming stale of the sisters at Pisa, whither he had gone
for the establishment of his own health, and he itistaatly hur-
tled home to Scotland. Caroline and Emma were in their
graves, but be had the mournful satasclion to be with his
own Louisa In ber last days. Nitta' did he at first press her
to go to Italy, as • faint •tad forlorn hope, bum he soon de.
misted from such vain persuasion The thought is sweet to
lay our bone' within the bosom of our native soil.' The Ter.
due and the flowers I lured wilt brighten around my grave;
the same trees whose pleasant murmur cheered my hying ear
will Muir their cool shadows over my dust, and the eyes thst
met 111111 C in the light of all'retion will shed teals over the sod
that covers me, keeping my memory groat within their spirits'
He who had been her lover, but was now the friend and
brother of her soul, had nothing to say in reply to those na•
final sentiments. • After all they are but Grades, Henry;
ho: they cling to the heart from which they sprung, and to be
buried in the sweet church-yard of Blamyre is now a
thought most pl aaaaa t to Iny soul.'
In dry summer weather • clear rivulet imperceptibly
shrinks away frost its candy bed, till, on some otornieg, we
miss the gleam and the murmur altogether, and find the
little channel dry. Just in this way was Louisa wasting—
mid so was her life pure and beautiful to the last. The day
before she died she requested in a voice that could not be
denied, that her Brother would take her auto the church.
yard, that she might see the g of her mother and
sisters all lying together, and the spot whose daisies were
soon to be disturbed. She was carrieil thither io the sun.
shine, in her sick chair (for the abidance was only a very
few hundred yards), and her attendauts having withdrawn,
she surveyed the graves with • beaming eouoteuarirt•, in pre.
score of her weeping friend. Alethiliks,' said she, ' 1 hear
an I.yoso, and children 14.90.4 in the church! No, no, it is
os1) the remembered sound of the psalm 1 braid the last
-Sabbath I had strength to go there. Oh! sweet was it now
►s the reality itself!' lie who was to have been bee husband
was sOully overcome, and hid his face its despair. I go, my
Lelosed, to that holy place where there is neither marrying
nor gee lug iu marriage; but we shall meet there, purified
Ileum every earthly stain. Dry up your tears and weep no
more. Kiss—oh! kegs me once before I die!' He stooped
duwn, mid she had just elrenglis to pot bur area. round
his arch, whoa—with • king sigh—she expired."

A very entertaining work has been just published,
entitled " Letters from Spain. by Don Letteadio
DoUudo." At the present moment bpain divides
the public interest with'Greece. In a national point
of view it is perhaps more intimately connected
with the welfare of this country. To drove who
read with pleasure an account of our gymnatic
exercises, and the legislative measures adopted to
prevent cruelty to the brute creation, the following
extract descriptive of the bullaghts in Spain, al-
though at hackneytd subject, may prove inte-
resting :

" .4 Batll.day (Dia de Toros). as it is emphatically called
at Seville, stops all public and private business. On Ilse
preceding afternoon the amphitheatre is thrown open to all
sorts of people indtscrinwestely. Neils of military music
enliven the bustling scene. The seats are occupied by such
as wish to see the promenade inn the arena, round
which the ladies parade in their carriages, while every man
seems to take pleasure in moving on the same spot where
the fieree combat is to take place within a few hours. The
spirits of the compariy sie, to fade, pitched up by antics's'.
bon, to she gay, noisy, and hold temper of the future sport.
"Our amphitheatre is one of the largest sod handsomest
in Spain. A great part is built of alone ; but, from want of
money, the rest is wood. From Sr. to twelve thuussud
spectators may be accommodated with seats. These rise,
taametred, from •n elevation of about eight feet above the
areas, and are finally crowned by a gallery, from whence the
wealthy behold the fights, free from the ioroaveniences of
the weather. The lowest tier, however, is preferred by
young gentlemen, as affording • el view of the wounds
inflicted on the ball. Thin tier is protected by a parapet.
Another strong fence, six feet high, is erected round the
arena, leaving a space of about twenty between its area and
the lower seats. Openings, admitting a man side-ways, are
made ia this fence, to allow tbs men oo foot an escape when
closely pursued by the ball. They, however, most generally
leap over it with uncommon agility. Uut buils of a certain
breed will not be left behind, and they literally clear the
fetice. Falling into the vacant space before the seats, the
animal runs shout till one of the gates is opened, Halt/ugh
which he is easily drawn back to the am as.
" Few among the lower el retire to their bells ou the
eve of • Bull-day. From midnight they poise down the
streets leading to the amphitheatre in the most riotous and
offensive nianner• to be present at the Eucierru—.hitting-in
of the hulls—which being performed at the break of dey, is
allowed to be seen without paying for seats. These animals
are conducted from their 'guise fields to • large plain in the
neighbourhood of Seville, from whence eighteen, the numb-r
exhibited daily during the f tuts, are led to the amphitheatre
on the appoieted day, that loom confinement may nut break
down their fierceness. This imeration has somethiuge xtremely
wild in Its character. All the amateurs of the town ate
seen' on horseback with their lances, hastening towards
Tablada, the spot where the bulls are kept at large. The
herdsmen, on (no', collect the victims of the day into a
drove ; this they do by means of tame oxen, called Cabe,.
fros, taught to be led by • halter, carrying, tied round their
nick, a large deep-sounding bell, with a wooden clapper.
What the habit of following the bells of the kick's fails to
do, the ciackiog of the herdsmen'', slings is sure to perform,
when the animals are not driven to insdness. The horse-
men, besides, stand on all aides of the drove till they get it
into a round tent. Thus they proceed to within half a mile
of the amphitheatre. At that distance a path is closed up
OH both sides, with Mout pules, lied horizontally across up-
right stakes—a feeble rampart, indeed, against the fury of
a herd of wild bulls. Yet the Seedling mob, though fully
aware of the dagger, are mad 'enough to take pleasure in
exposing themselves. The intolerable noise in my street,
and the invitation of a member of the Maestrau:u—o eurpe-
rale association of Noblemen, whose object is the breeding
and breaking of horses, and who hi this town enjoy the ex-
clusive privilege of giving bull-feasts to the public—induced
me, during the last erases., to get up one morning with the
dawn, and take my stand at the amphitheatre, where, from
their private gallery I commanded a view of the plat* lying
between the river Guadalquivir and that building.
" At the distant sound of the oxen's bells shoals of people
were seen driving wildly over the plain, like clouds b. fore •
strong gale. One could mad in their motions • struggle be-
tween fear on one side, and vanity and habit on the other.
Now they approached the palisade, now they ran to • more
distant spot. Many climbed up the trees, while the more
daring or foolhardy kept their station on what they esteemed
a post of honour. As our view ass terminated by a narrow
pass between the river sad ibibneient tower called del Oro,
or Golden, 16e cavalcade broke upon us with great effect. It
approached at full gallop. The leading hemmer'', now con-
aned within the pelisad. to, and having the whole herd at their
heels, were obliged to run for their lives. few, however,
ventured on this desperate service, and their greatest force
was in the rear. Theberdsmen clinging to the nicks of tl.e
oxen, in old, r to keep pace with the horses, appeared, to an
unpractised e ye, doomed to inevitable destruction. The cries
of the multitude, the sound of numberless bores, made of the
hollow stem of a large species of thistle, the shrill and
penetrating whistling, which seems most to harass and
enrage the belie Together with the confused and rapid mo-
tion of Ihe scene, could hardly be endured without a degree
of dizeitiess. It often happens that the boldest of the mob
succeed in decoying • bull (rum the drove ; bet I was, this
lime, fortunate eniiegh to see them safely lodged in the
Tord—s small must divided into a series of compartments
with drop-gates, in the forts of sluices, into which they are
successively goaded from a surrounding gallery, and lodg-
ed singly till the time of letting them loose upon the arena.
" The custom of this town requires that • bull be given to
the populace immediately after the shutting fn. The irre-
gular fight that ensues is perfectly disgusitug and shucking.
The only time I have witnessed it, the area of the •mpliit Ilea-
ire was actually crowded erith people, both on horse and
foot. Fortunately their nombers distracted the animal : on
whatever side he charged, large maws ran before him, on
which he would have made • dreadful havoc, but fur the
multitude wbicb drew his attention to another spot. Yet
one of the crowd, evidently in • state any intoxication, who
stood still before the hull, was tossed up to • great height,
and fell apparently dead. He would have been gored to
pieces before our eyes, had not the herdsmen sad some
other good fighters draws away the beast *ilia their cloaks.
" finch horrors are frequent at these irregular fights; yet
neither the cruelty of the spurt, nor the unite y danger
to which even the most etret bull-fighters expose their
lives, nor the debauch and profligacy attendant on sorb ex.
hibitions, arc suilicitut to rouse the zeal of our fanatics
against them. Our popular preacher, Karr succeeded twice
within my recollection on shutting op the thestie. I have
myself seen • friar with a crucifix in his hand stop at its
door, at the bead of an eveuiug rectories', sod, during • con-
siderable part of the performance, conjure the people, as
they valued their souls, not to venture into that abode of
sin ; bat I never beard from these holy guardians of morals
the least observation against bull-lighting ; and even our
high hers in devotion—the Philippians, whom we might
call our Methodists, allow all, except clergymen, to attend
these bloody scenes, *bile they (buy absolutism to any who
do not renounce the play.

" lirforequittingaie amphitheatre I was taken by my friend
to the gallery front which the bulls were being goaded into
their separate stalls. As it stands only two or three fret
above their heads, I could not but feel a degree of terror ■t
such a close tiew of those fiery savage eyes, those desperate
efforts to reach the beholders, accompanied by repealed and
ferocious bellowing.. There is an intelligence and noble-
ness in the lion that makes him look much less terrific in his
d. u. I saw the DiVilla, a bunch of rtbbaud■ tied to a barb.
ed steel point, stuck into the bulls' nicks. It is intended to
distinguish the breeds by dill', rent combinations of colours,
which are stated in handbills, sold about the streets like
your Court Calendars before the Assizes.

Ten is the appointed hour to begin the morning exhibi-
tion ; and much days are need upon as will two, by a long
ehureh-serviee, prevent the arsendaime of the canons sod
piebeadmies who choose to be present ; foe the chapter, in a
body, receive a regular invitation from the ifuestranza.
Such, therefore, as hove armored seats, stay stay at home
I:11 the tolling of the great bell announces the (treating of

the host—a ceremony which takes place sear the conclusion
of the daily morning service.
'4 The view of the Seville amphilitteatre. when full, is very
striking. Most people attend in the Aadalusisn dress, part
of which 'have already described. The colour of the men's
cloaks, which are of silk, in the One season, varies from
purple to scarlet. The short loose jackets of the ma display
the most lively hues and the while veils which the females
Ily wear at these meetings tell beautifully with the
rest of their gay attire.
" The elearincof the arena, on which a tailtilude lounges
lilt the last moment, is 'last of tbeshew, and has the appro.
priale appellation of Desyrejo. This is perfoi used by a re.
Omen' of infantry. The soldiers entering at one of the gates
in a column, display their ranks, at the sound of martial
music, and sweep the people before them as they march
snow the ground. This done, the gates are rinsed, the sol-
diers perform some evolutions, in which the commanding
officer is expected to chew his ingenuity, till, having placed
his men in a convents-lit position, they disband iu a moment,
and hide themselves behind the fence.

" The band of Torero* (hull fighters), one half in bins, the
other in scarlet eloaka, now advarwe in two lines scrota the
arena, to make obeisance to the President. Their number
is generally twelve or fonrtern, including the two Mata-
dotes, each attended by an assistant called Mediaespada
(denii.sword). Close in their rear follow the Picadores
(pikemea) on horseback, wearing scarlet jackets trimmed
wish silver lace. The shape of the horsemen's jackets re-
sembles those in use among the English poasboss. As a
protection to the legs end thighs, they have along leather
overalls, seuffed to an enormous size with soft brown piper—
s sishreance which is said to offer great resistance to the
bull's horns. After making their bow to the President, the
horsemen take the it post in a line to the left of the gate
which is to let in the bulls, standing in the direction of
the barrier at the distance of thirty or forty paces from each
other. The fighters on foot, without any weapons or means
of defence, except their cloaks, wait, not far from the horses,
ready to give assistance to the piker's, n. Every tbiug being
then in readiness, a constable, in the ancient Spanish eos-
It rides up to the front of the principal gallery, and
reedit.' into his hat the key of the Torii or bull's den, which
the Pleat& of flings from the balcony. Scarcely has the con-
stable delivered the key under the steward's gallery, when,
at the waving of the President's handkerchief, the bogies
sound amid a storm of applause, the gates are flung °pee,
and the first bull rushes into the amphitheatre. 1 shell de-
scribe what, on the day I allude to, our connoisseurs deemed
•n interesting fight, sod if you interne it repeated, with more
or less danger mid carnage, eight times in the morning and
ten in the evening, you will have a pretty accurate notion of
the whole performance.
" The bull paused a moment, and looked wildly upon the
scene ; then, taking notice of the first horseman, made a des-
perate charge against him. The ferocious animal was re-
ceived at the point of the pike, which, according to the laws
of the game, was aimed at the fleshy put of the neck. A
dextrous motion of the bridle-hand and right leg mode the
horse evade the bull's helm, by turning to the left. Made
fiercer by the wound, be instantly attacked the next pike.
man, whose horse, less obedient to the rider, was so deeply
gored In the chest that he fell dead on the spot. The im.
pulse of the bull's thrust threw the rider on the other side of
the horse. An awful silence ensued. The spectators rising
from their seam beheld in fearful suspense the wild bull
goring the feller) horse, while the man, whose only chance of
safety depended on lying mutiuoldes, seemed dead to all ap.
pestilence. This painful set Ile lasted but a few woad% for
the men on foul, by running towards the bull, in various
direct!ons, waving their cloaks and uttering load cries, soon
made him quit the horse to pursue them. When the danger
of the pikemen was paned, sod he ruse on his legs to vault
upon another horse, the burst of applause might be beard at
the farthest extremity of the town. Donotless, and urged by
ge, be now gallupped forth to meet the bull. But,
without detailing the shocking sights that followed, I shall
only mention abet the ferocious animal attacked the horse-
men lee es • e times, wwanded fuer horses, and killed
two. One of these noble creatures, though weaseled i• two
places, continued to fare the bull without shrinking, till grow.
log too weak, he fell down with the Yet there horses
arc never trained for the fights, but are bought for the amount
of thirty or forty shillings, when, worn out with labour, or
broken by disease, they are unfit fur any other service.
A flourish of the bugles discharged the horsemen till the
beginning of the seat combat, and the amusement of the
people devolved on the lianderilloros—the same whom we
have hitherto seen atteetiee to the nerdy of the horsemen.
The Eanderafa, literally little flag, from *bit h they lake
their name, is a shaft of two feet is length, pointed with • i
barbed steel, and gaily ornamented with many sheets of
painted paper, cut into reticulated coverings. Without a
cloak, and bolding one of these dart. in each baud, the fighter
runs up to the bull, and stopping short when he sees himself
attacked, he fixes the two shafts without flinging them,
behind the horns of the b.ast at the very moment when it
stoops to toss him. The painful sensation makes the bull
throw up his head without ieffeting the intended blow, and
while he rages in impotent cede avows to shake off the hang-
lug darts that gall him, the man has fell leisure to escape.
It is on these occasiuns, whin the Banderilleros fail to fix
the darts, that they require their surprising swiftness of foot.
Be ing without the protection of a cloak, they are obliged to
take instantly to flight. The bull follows them at full gal.
lop; suit 1 have seen the man leap the barrier, so closely
punned by the enrage d brute, that it seemed as if be had
sprung up by placing the feet un its head. Townsend
thought ii was literally so. Sc me of the dares are set with
squibs and crackcts. The match, a piece of tinder, made of
a dried fungus, is so fill d to the barbed point, that, rising
by the pressure which makes it penetrate the skin, it tenches
the train of the firewosks. The only object of this refine-
ment of cruelty iv, to confuse the bull's instinctive powers,
•nd, by making bon completely frantic, to diminish the dan-
ger of the Matador, who in Hever so exposed as when the.
beast is collected diode's to meditate the attack.
" At the waving oldie President's handkerchief, the bugle.
sounded the death signal, sod the Matador came forward.
Ycpe 1110, the pride of this town, and cesiainly one of the
mum graceful ..nd dextrous fighters that Spain has ever pro-
duced, having flung uff his cloak, approached the bull with a
quick, light, and fearless step. lit his left band he held a
square piece offed cloth, spread upon a ',tuff about Iwo feet
in length, and in his right a broad sword nut much longer.
His •ftendants followed him at a distance. Facing the bull,
within six or eight yards, be preseuted the red flag, keeping his
body partially concealed bellied it, and thee swood entirely out
of a iew. The bull rushed against the reel cloth, and our hero
slipped by his side by &slight circular motion, while the beast
paromeel wider the lure which the :11afridor bald in the hist
direction till be had evaded the borne. Enraged by this de-
ception, and unchecked by auy painful sensation, the bull
collected all his strength for a desperate charge. Pepe Ills
now levelled his sword at the left side of time bull's neck, and,
turning upon his right foot as the animal approached him,
ran the weapon nearly up to the hilt into its body. The
bull staggered, tottered, and dropped gently upon his bent
I. gs, but lead yet teemed' life in bins Cie any utau to venture
near with safety. The unfortunate ///o has sluice perished
(ruin a wound inflected by a bull in • similar state. 'The
Matador ob d, for one us two miutiter, the signs of ap-
proaching death in the fierce animal now douching before
him, mud, at his Lidding, au attendant crept behind the hull
and struck him dead, by deicing a small poniard at the join-
ture of the spine and the head. 'I lies ups ration is never per.
formed except when the prostrate bull lingers. I once Saw
MU, at the desire of the spectators, 6841 this mertiful blow
in a manner which nothing but ocular demonstration would
have made me believe. Taking the poniard, called Pontiff's,
by the blade, he poised it fora few moments, mid jeolem d it
with such unerring aim un the hull's neck, 10 he lay on hes
bent legs. that be killed the animal with the quickuess of
lightning.
" Four muks, ornamented with large morriee-bells and
ribbons, bainessed a-breast, and drawing a beam furnished
with an iron book in the middle, gallopptd to the place where
the ball lay. This machine being fastened to a rope pre-
violist, throws round the dead animal's horns, he was swiftly
dragged out of the amphitheatre.
" I have now given sou a more minute, and,l trust, more
comet description of every thing eminected with the bull
fights than has ever been drawn by any traveller Town-
send's to the best account of these spurts 1 ever met with, yet
it is not free from mistakes. So difficult is it to see distiuctly
scenes with which we are nut fiatilisrly acquainted."

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