They are immortalized on Asian bas-reliefs, Greek vases, Roman mosaics, old photographs, painting canvases, literary pages... The scene is more or less identical: bristling bonfires lost in a swirl of feathers, the audience in delirium, the owners on the verge of hysteria.
The first mention of cockfights - we are talking about them, of course - were recorded as far back as the Old Ages, but they gained cult status in the late Middle Ages, on the sun-bathed Mediterranean islands. The fact that, like the gladiator fights, they did not remain just a dark relic of the past is mostly the merit of the Spanish emigrants. On their sailing ships - those kind of Noah's arks that were used to sail to the "New World" - along with horses, pigs, and beef, there would be room for roosters and hens. Tall, handsome, handsome, agile, with a penetrating voice - his high "c" would make many tenors envious of him - "gallus" won the sympathy of the native population as soon as he got off the deck, relegating the native turkey to the shadows. The upcoming performance in the impromptu arena against the tribesmen will only strengthen his already high reputation. The Indians will soon give roosters the epithet of "divine warriors" whose mutual fights are decided by an "even higher divinity". Their owners, whether they were settlers from the Iberian Peninsula or the British Isles, were guided by more prosaic motives. With cockfighting, high bets were made, entire haciendas were lost, with agricultural inventory and slaves. Important political decisions were often made right next to the battlefield. It is recorded that the vice-king of New Spain, Iturigaraj, calmly commented on the news of Napoleon's invasion of Spain and the king's abdication with the words: "That is the end of our rule" and... continued betting on his cock imported from the Malay Islands.
The Mexican dictator, General Santa Ana, was also an avid bettor. Defeats in the arena of his favorite crooked-beaked Acel roosters, imported especially for fights from as far as the West Indies, hit him harder than the defeats of his countrymen in the fight against the hated "Yankees". The general also had a special ritual for his pets. Just before their performance in the arena, he would stare into the glittering eyes of his fighters with his piercing metallic gaze. He probably had vivid memories of lectures from the Military Academy and of Napoleon patting his loyal soldiers on the shoulder before the Battle of Austerlitz...
Cockfights themselves got their status relatively late - only in the 19th century, when the first official edition of "Reglamento para el juego de gallos" was printed in New Spain. According to his rules, roosters for fighting - specially fed and trained, had their feathers removed from their tails, as well as the horny outgrowth called "spur". Instead, a steel saber would be attached to his ankle. And then the fight to the death could begin.
"The spectators standing around - no less excited than the fighters - are slowly making their last bets. Bet collectors take money stakes, but many people bet privately with a neighbor for money or an item.
The birds pounce violently on each other. In the arena, a large white Wuandote and a red Orpington fight. First round. The birds peck at each other, peck at each other, pounce and stab each other with iron spurs. The spectators shout and irritate them even more. The first drops of blood have already fallen.
A passing shower of rain did not harm either the fighting spirit or the mood. Above the fighters, who were waiting for a new bike, the worried owners spread black umbrellas. The fight continues. When the fighters, clashing, jumped back and stopped with lowered heads and bristled feathers, there was a short pause, and then the feathers swirled again. Jump and kick. Kick and jump. The spectators screamed.
The white "wuandote" suddenly collapses. The law of the boxing ring does not apply here, and the red fighter rushes at the downed opponent, starts pecking him, although he himself was bleeding from the crest. The white rooster has already been defeated, his combativeness has disappeared, and he jumped up and tried to escape from the scene of the fight. Now those who had already bet on the red fighter happily warmed up". This is how the American reporter J. Ros cockfighting "on the spot".
Similar fights of "gallos" - for this game it is considered that time has stopped maintaining today, in strict discretion - various societies for the protection of animals do not look with sympathy on these "competitions" and the national legislation of many countries strictly prohibits them. Truth and other games of chance are prohibited by law, but gambling does not attract the attention of the police and neighbors by crowing, as a roulette ball flies feathers, nor does a card bleed. And yet Indian towns, Mexican villages, suburbs of industrial cities in Northern France and Belgian Flanders still successfully resist police raids. The local cockerel derby of the Mexican village of Cuatitlan (green jerseys) and the municipality of San Bartolo (red jerseys) is not behind the derby of the Spanish "Primera" in terms of fan passion and intensity of emotions. With one difference - there is no rematch. The lucky owner of the rooster - the winner will twist the neck of the defeated one. The winner, himself covered in blood, still has enough strength to celebrate the victory with a guttural shout.
It is irresistibly reminiscent of the gladiatorial greeting: "Ave (senores) morituri te salutant".
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