I only witnessed the sight once. Lord Wellington was present, and sat in a box on the right of the king’s, the royal box being empty. The performance commenced by a guard of soldiers marching into the centre of the arena, forming a circle, and on a signal by beat of drum, facing outwards, and marching up to the barricade, where, placing a foot on a step, on the next signal, they vaulted over into the passage, where they stood during the exhibition. The horseman who was to attack the bull, now entered, dressed somewhat in the same manner as our equestrians or rope dancers, armed with a spear, rolled round with cord to within half an inch of the point, to prevent the wound which he might give the animal from proving mortal. With him also entered the men on foot, whose office was to irritate or divert the attention of the bull from the horseman when in too great danger. They were dressed in nearly the same style, only carrying different coloured mantles or cloaks. The signal was now given for the performance to commence. The footmen ranged themselves round the barricade, while the horseman, placing his spear in the rest, remained opposite to, and some distance from, the door by which the bull was to enter. All being thus prepared, the door was thrown open—the animal rushed furiously out, his nostrils dilated, and his eyeballs gleaming fire. A flight of pigeons which were let off at his head as he entered the arena, irritated him, and attracted his attention a little; but perceiving the horseman, he began to roar and paw the ground, and rushed forward upon him. The horse being urged to a gallop, he was met half-way, and struck by the spear on the shoulder, and fairly thrown on his hind legs, bellowing fearfully with the pain of the wound. The horse had now started aside, and when the animal regained his feet, which he did almost instantaneously, he was surrounded by the footmen, who, whenever he made charge at one of them, threw a mantle over his head, and while he tossed it, and roared to get rid of it, danced round, planting arrows in his sides and neck filled with crackers, which, by the time he got free of the cloak, began to go off, and maddened him to the utmost degree. His appearance at this time was terrific. The horseman was now prepared for a second charge, which being made, the bull was again attacked by the footmen, who often ran imminent danger, being pushed so closely that they were obliged to leap the barricade. This alternate attack was continued several times, until the people being tired, the matador was called for, who entered on foot without any defence but a small sword. The men on foot still continued to irritate the animal, until it was roused to the utmost pitch of madness, when the matador placing himself in its way, in the midst of one of its most furious attacks, calmly waited its approach. Seeing the bull close upon him, we expected that the man would be gored to death—that there was no possibility of his escape.