the intestines of the disembowelled horses, the horses in agony,
the dead horses, the sights which didn't disturb Hemingway or
Lorca, the sights which Alexander Fiske-Harrison overlooked or
didn't think too important - these sights aren't going to return to
the contemporary bullfight.
Miriam Mandel writes, 'Occasionally one hears reactionary calls
for the abolishment of the peto, but modern sensibilities would
not allow a return to the pre-peto bullfight that Hemingway
encountered when he first went to Spain.
The peto or 'protective mattress' for the picadors' horses 'was
first used at a Madrid novillada on 6 March 1927, and it was
mandated by law on 18 June 1928.' After the peto was
introduced, there was a vast decrease in the number of horses
disembowelled and the number of horses killed in the ring, but as
I explain in the next section, The horses, there are still horses
disembowelled in the ring - the horses of mounted bullfighters
('rejoneador') and the horses of picadors. The peto protects
against puncture wounds but not at all adequately against the
weight of the bull smashing into it and the peto disguises so
many injuries. The horses in the bullfighting ring are still treated
with despicable cruelty. It's true that 'modern sensibilities would
not allow a return to the pre-peto bullfight' but Miriam Mandel
overlooks the obvious fact that modern susceptibilities find
unacceptable - repellent - the treatment of horses and bulls in
the contemporary bullring. The page gives abundant
documentation of this treatment. What was once accepted isn't
accepted any longer, except by the supporters and patrons of
bullfighting. Many of these wouldn't object in the least if forty
horses died by disembowelling at every bullfight, but I'd claim
that although there's no such thing as certain moral progress,
these people have been left far behind by this particular moral
advance.
Two eyewitness accounts of the deaths of horses in pre-Peto
years.
This account is by a spectator at a bullfight who was sickened by
what he saw: Sir Alfred Munnings. It comes from his
autobiography, published in 1955. The account is based on what
he saw at a pre-peto bullfight.
'I have sat at dinners given by the American Ambassador in
Spain with a titled Spaniard as my neighbour, hearing things of
bullfighting not written in books. Have we read in those novels
extolling the matador, of living skeletons - once horses - ridden
not only to slaughter but in a tawdry procession? Have we read
of punching, horning, or weeks of durance between Sundays,
with flies crawling over festered wounds, as the victims, not
killed, await in the stables NEXT SUNDAY’S SPORT? Watch
such a procession, and see some fifteen sorry steeds, doomed,
starved, carrying heavy, stuffed out picadors. No wonder the
horses are hurled to the ground, overweighted, weak and half-
dead.
'Passing the tall archway, I had seen a little white horse. To my
surprise it was in the procession, carrying a great picador, and
the next thing we saw was the little white horse and another in
the ring. This humble white horse stood there blindfolded, his
ears stuffed and tied, little knowing what he was there for. Oh,
little white horse; Little White Horse!’ I kept repeating to myself,
as the bull put a long horn right through the little horses neck,
just above the windpipe.
'Imagine the fright of the horse, blindfolded and deaf, at the
sudden stab. Then the bull, his horn through the neck of the
horse began dragging it slowly round with him, the picador
dismounting and others in the ring trying to free the horse, now
no longer a horse, but a holiday victim, the blood running down
its white jaw and neck.
'When cleared, and the picador remounted, the bull charged,
hurling man and horse backwards with a crash against the
wooden barrier. ‘Oh little white horse.’ I said to myself and, the
picador being rescued, and the bull attracted away, they beat the
horse to its feet with blood streaming from a wound in its chest,
down its white legs. The time was up for the horses, and the
white horse and the other - a starved emaciated bag mare were
led out to come in again. The little white horse’s end came later.
'The bay, its teeth chattering with fear, having been in before,
stood near the barrier below us, the motley red and white striped
bandage over its offside eye, its ears stuffed with tow, and tied
with what seemed to be old electric wire. The Bull made short
work of the bay horning the horse from behind. The picador
cleared, and the horse beaten to its feet by red-shirted
attendants. There, from the underpart of its belly hung a large
protuberance of bowels. With head outstretched a man hauling it
along on the end of the rein, another hitting it with a stick, it was
led out.
'Not a soul cared, excepting ourselves.
'But what of the white horse? He too was lifted and hurled on his
back, to the cheers of the crowd, and when beaten to his feet
was stomping on his own entrails, which stretched and split like
pink tissue paper.'
This is the account of Prosper Mérimée. It's clear from the full
account he gives in 'Letters from Spain' that he liked what he
saw. He compares himself to St Augustine: 'St. Augustine relates
that in his youth he had an extreme distaste for gladiatorial
combats, never having seen one. Forced by a friend to
accompany him to one of these pompous butcheries, he vowed
to close his eyes as long as it lasted. At first he kept to his word
well enough, and forced himself to think of other things; but when
the populace cried out at a celebrated gladiator's fall, he opened
his eyes—opened them, and could not close them again. From
then on until his conversion, he was one of the most passionate
enthusiasts about these games.'
He gets this wrong. Augustine was writing about a man called
Some years ago, I visited France. From Alsace, where I
travelled some of La Route de Vin, I travelled much further
south than I'd originally intended. A main reason was to
visit, for the first time, an area where bullfighting takes
place. . To visit the area not out of simple curiosity but as
an activist, as someone who had already studied the
subject of bullfighting in detail, who had found it barbaric
and repulsive and who had given a great deal of thought to
the most effective campaigning techniques.
In the time I had available, I was only able to visit the
bullfighting town of Arles. As an individual, I could only do a
little on this visit. The urge to make a protest was strong. I
confined myself to writing messages of protest at six or
seven different places on the woodwork inside the arena
where bullfighting takes place, and I went to the tourist
office and loudly spoke about the barbarity of bullfighting.
Since returning to this country, I've phoned tourist offices
and arenas and made other protests. Whilst I was in
Provence, I came across a circus with animal acts. There
were lions crammed together in a small cage. There are
parts of Europe, and other parts of the world, where animal
acts are banned or surely will be banned before long, since
animal welfare is a matter of widespread concern.
Provence isn't one of these areas, although there are
certainly highly motivated activists in Provence, as in other
areas of France.
With the exception of people such as these, in the matter
of bullfighting, the level of indifference, apathy and
complacency in France is dismal and shocking. Opinion
polls which supposedly show majorities of French people
opposed to bullfighting aren't evidence that the majority of
people feel strongly about it.
France is a strongly centralized country. Even though
bullfighting is illegal in the Northern parts of the country,
France is a jurisdiction which allows bullfighting: France is
a bullfighting country, a country in which bulls are killed in
bullrings. As soon as tourists reach Calais, or any of the
French sea ports or airports, they have arrived in a
bullfighting country. For far too long, the French corrida has
been ignored. Many, many people are unaware that
corridas are held in France.
To return to bullfighting, towns and other places are very
concerned with their reputations. They would rather be
known as progressive than primitive, as enlightened rather
than barbaric, notable as centres of civilization rather than
notorious as centres of unjustified killing and
bloodthirstiness. There is some defensiveness in these
places, I think, or hope. The campaign to end bullfighting
can increase this defensiveness, can even implant the
beginnings of shame and self-disgust in the hardened
hearts of some aficionados but, most importantly, it has to
implant in the minds of the general public an association
between bullfighting towns and death and blood, to do
damage to the reputation of these places. In this way, it's
possible to apply indirect pressure on people who are,
realistically, too hardened ever to change, or who have too
much to lose to accept change. It's unlikely that a bull-
breeder, an employee of an arena or a bullfighter will
accept the loss of livelihood.
I don't think that boycotts of bullfighting towns are useful.
As a form of economic pressure, they're useless. Nîmes
and Arles and other bullfighting towns have a great deal to
lose economically if bullfighting supporters stay away. The
massive influx of bullfighting supporters into Pamplona
brings so much money into the town that attempts to
boycott Pamplona are futile. It's claimed that 500 000
bullfighting supporters visit Arles for the Easter festival
when the bullfighting season begins. I think it's far more
useful for activists to descend upon these places and to
make their presence - and their opposition - felt. Some
people may do this by staging high-profile protests. I've
taken part in protests of this kind in other areas of animal
welfare, but there are other, less public, ways of making
opposition felt, for those who are averse to taking part in
public demonstrations.
As a reminder of the barbarities which take place along this
route, this video shows the killing of a bull at the 'Graine de
toréros in the village of Bezouce in France. (Bezouce is not
far from Nîmes.) The bull is stabbed with the sword within a
few seconds after the start of the video (previous stabbings
by the picador and banderillero not shown). After four
minutes of agony - the agony can't be proved but is surely
overwhelmingly likely - the bull dies and is dragged out of
the arena. The matador here obviously isn't vastly
experienced in the least but again and again bulls take a
long time to die after being stabbed by the most
experienced matadors - I won't call them the 'best'
matadors - as I explain in various places on this page. I
emailed the town hall of Bezouce and phoned later and
complained to the mayor. The mayor made no attempt to
defend the place's support for bullfighting and before long
put the phone down.
