Bismarck weekly tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1943, 1894-06-01
AMONG THE GRANDEES
Dr.. Porter Reaches the Spanish
Capital En- Route to Southern
Spain.
Depicts the Brigandish Manners of
Mine Host In that Sunny
Cline.
Four Dollars q Day For a Rat Hole
and Bull Beef and Black
Coffee.
Expatiates at Length Upon the
Brutality of a Bull Fight Of
Modern Times.
Closes With q Just and Glowing
Tribute to the Beauty of Spanish
Womanhood.

MADRID, Spain, April 3O.-Arrived in
this city to-day after a t~wenty-four
hours ride from Taragona. I was glad
enough to get here I can tell you. Have
been three days getting here, and find it
will take two Of three days more to get
to the south of Spain. Whatever they
do know in Spain, n thing is certain,
they do not know or care much about
ra%ilroading. The teams are slow. Only
the express trains run sleepers, conse-
quently you cannot hurry in Spain.
This makes travel very disagreeable and
tedious. I find you cannot hurry a
Spaniard any more than you can an
italian, which is not at all. He will
smoke and talk and look pleasant and
happy, while you are worrying and rush.
ing around for your ticket and baggage,
and he will let the train slip out from
under your nose just as if it did not
matter at all, and then you have an
other days hotel bill to pay. The hotels,
how they do go for the American dol
lars, and the exchange, how slick they
manage that! You take a twenty franc
piece and change it back and forth a few
times and you will wonder where your
money has gone. You won't have a cent
left. Some n asked where all the
brigands of Spain were, and the |answer
was, "why they are all keeping hotels"
which is quite true. If they can't rob
you in the slickest, smoothest style of
the art, and smile and pretend to be doing
you the greatest favor. why I'm no judge
of the grand and the sublime. Four dol
lars a day for a little rat hole of a dirty,
dark room, and though bull beef and
black coffee is all right for the hotel
man, but you don't care for that kind of
diet and price for a very long season.
The hotels, however, are all full, and I
had a hard time to get a room even on
these terms. Madrid is a beautiful city,
situated in the midst of a vast sandy
plateau. The streets are wide and clean,
fine buildings, public gardens, fountains
and %statuary, all making one of the most
attractive cities. The picture gallery
here is a gem and contains many
Murillos and quite a number by Velas-
quez, Raphael, Titan, Tintoretto and
many other celebrated painters.
This afternoon I witnessed a bull fight
at the Plaza de Toros, which is a vast
amphitheatre, calculated to hold 10000
people. Every seat was taken. The
first bull that was let into the ring came
with head and tail high in the air, a
noble beast certainly. He looked at the
vast audience as he came proudly in, and
then at the gaily clad bull fighters
(Banderilleros) and quicker than a flash
he plunged for one and then another,
and another, only, of course, to miss them
and to hit the red cloth held before
them. The bull looked surprised and
became furious, paved the ground and
dashed his tail and started for a man on
horseback. The man did not falter
but rode toward the bull and charged
him with a spear.
The bull was equal to the occasion
u rushed on horse and rider with the
speed of lightning and the force of a
hattering ram. Down went horse and
man. The bull turned immediately in
pursuit of more game, which he found in
another horse and rider and another and
another until in thirty-fve minutes he
had actually killed seven horses. The
first poor animal was completely torn
open so that portions of his intestines
came out and dragged on the ground
Still the rider urged him on and rode
him around the ring until he fell down
dead.
And this they call sport. It is one Of
the most cruel, barbarous and.diseustinp
sights l have ever witnessed and I never
want to see another one. In the mean
time the bull was charging around from
n man to another with his tongue out,
his sides painting, blood shot eyes,
and his sides covered with blood
and dripping on the ground from sharp
a%rrow-shaped instruments, which we're
thrust into his flesh, and barbed, so as
to tear and cut his flesh, and that Emad-
dened him more. Well, this sort Of
thing lasted until the suffering bull
could not stand it much longer from loss
OF strength and blood. A trumpet was
sounded, which was the signal for the
finishing stroke, and one of the fighters,
the matador, rushed up on the bull, and
thrust a long sword into his shoulder.
up to the hilt. The blood rushed from
his nose and mouth. He stood still q
few seconds, quivered, and fell down
dead, upon the body of one of the seven
horses, which he had killed only a few
minutes before. Ropes were fastened