206 Unexplored Spain 
shadow and substance—in other words, to seek the man and 
disdain the lure—this naturally making the réle of matador more 
dangerous, and double pay was demanded. To outsiders it would 
appear that on the day when bulls learn this, bull-fighting must 
cease. 
A storm burst that raged all winter—all classes taking part. 
Spain was rent in twain; press and people, high and low, joined 
issue in this unseemly wrangle. We cannot here enter into detail 
of the various schemes, fair and unfair, whereby the bull-fighters’ 
guild sought to justify their action and their demands and to 
prejudice the terrible Miwrenos in the public eye. They were 
seconded by most professionals of renown, and soon all but seven 
had joined the league. But the squabble with its resultant law- 
suits and sordid financial aspect finally disgusted the public. 
Needless to add, a counter-association of bull-breeders had 
been forced into existence, which eventually, despite varied and 
particular personal interests unworthy of definition, united the 
opposition. Oh! it was a pretty quarrel and one in its essence 
peculiar to Spain. But it held the whole country engaged all 
winter in the throes of a semi-civil war! 
At the first corrida of the following season—held at Alicante 
January 18, 1909, and graced by the presence of King Alfonso 
XIII. in person—the public delivered their verdict, filling the 
Plaza to overflowing, although the whole of the six champions 
were of the condemned Miura breed and the matadors, Quinito 
and Rerre, belonged to the recalcitrant Seven. The bull-fighters’ 
guild had received a fatal blow. 
Such was the situation, the mental equilibrium between the 
fiercely contending factions, as the crucial period approached— 
the Easter corvidas at Seville. The zmpresarios of that function, 
having full grip of the circumstance, engaged matadors of minor 
repute—Pepete, Moréno de Alcalé, and Martin Vasquez. All 
three, although but of second rank, were popular and regarded as 
coming men. 
Flaming posters announced that six champions of the Miura 
breed would face the swordsmen. 
The occasion was unique, and D. Eduardo Miura rose to meet 
it, presenting six bulls of incomparable beauty, magnificent in 
fine lines, in dash, brute-strength, and valour, yet utterly devoid 
(as the event proved) of guile or lurking treachery. Such 
