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According to the opinions of a large and in some degree a respectable
class of the community, the most important event of the day occurred on
Wednesday near Buffalo. We refer to the pugilistic encounter between
those distinguished champions of the ring, Mr. Morrissey and Mr.
Heenan, the latter rejoicing in the affectionate soubriquet of the
"Benica Boy." As will be seen by our telegraphic advices from the
Canadian field of Mars, the fight resulted in the victory of Morrissey,
who wears the champion's belt, and whose brows are decorated with the
conqueror's bays.
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The excitement in the city yesterday, when the result of the bloody
encounter was announced, rose to the boiling point. For a few hours the
great triumph of the successful gladiator clouded the sunlight of
public favor which had sparked in the eyes of one of the most charming
artistes that ever captivated our public, and obscured the laurels
placed on the brow of La Piccolomini.
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We have the great gladiatorial event the prominence and importance to
which it is entitled. The Herald of to-day contains a full and graphic
description of the preparations for the encounter, charming
biographical sketches of the contending gladiators, an account of their
preliminary training, and a copy of the rules under which they agree as
to the exact manner in which they shall proceed to bruise and maul each
other until one shall be pounded into an acknowledgment of the physical
supremacy of the other. The record is in many respects a curious one,
and although it seems paradoxical to say so, it is really an instance
of the progress of the age. In medieval times the trial of skill by
combat and the duello was confined, as a matter of course, to nobles
and gentlemen. The common people, who were not privileged to bear arms,
resorted to their fists, or to the quarterstaff, which cracked many an
English skull in the good old days when the Eighth Harry was King. A
century later we find the journals of the day recording the pleasing
fact that any gentleman who was desirous to have his head battered, for
the trifling consideration of a couple of shillings, might be
accommodated on any day of the week at an agreeable establishment
called the Cockpit. In those days there was no long training or heavy
betting. A gladiator issued his defiance on one day, and was taken up
on the next. We do these things more elegantly now-a-days. The ring has
become one of the dearest institutions of the British realm, and has
extended itself to our shores, where its influences have killed more of
our young men than war or pestilence. This very fight between Morrissey
and Heenan has made as much town talk as if it were some great
achievement of science or wonderful exhibition of strategic skill on
the battle field. The city has been temporarily emptied of the
ringleaders in its fighting element, while their retainers are watching
with the deepest anxiety for the announcement of the result. For the
moment these very nice persons have overlooked the fact that to them is
confided by a generous people the regulation of the political affairs
of this metropolis, and we have good reason to fear that they have for
the time being neglected their important duties. Let us hope they will
make up for lost time before election day.
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In view of the intense public interest in the encounter between modern
gladiators who represent the principles upon which our municipal
government is founded, we would suggest a grand "muscle demonstration"
to the conquering hero and his defeated opponent. We would be
magnanimous, because, though overcome, he may not be entirely wiped
out, unless he should happen to die, which would be painful to him. The
members of the Common Council must recollect, also, that these men of
muscle are more faithful to each other than are the politicians for
whom they work to their fellows, and that conciliating both parties is,
therefore, the best policy. When the distinguished Mr. Hyer hammered
the famous Mr. Sullivan, the conqueror was received with due honors by
a number of "private gentlemen" representing the cream of the faro and
fisticuff world. But as the Corporation has a direct interest in the
fighting man per se, and frequently rewards the hardest hitter with the
highest place, it seems eminently proper that the heroes of today
should have a grand civic reception, including congratulatory orations,
complimentary resolutions, and grand muscle processions, after the
fashion of the cortege at the funeral of the late lamented Mr. William
Poole. There should be grand fireworks - no doubt some patriotic
pyrotechnist will give them gratis - in fact, altogether a Roman
triumph. The return of the mighty men of muscle may be expected today
(like railway directors, they will never meet with accidents by the
way); but in order that the Common Council may have plenty of time to
get up the demonstration, to erect triumphal arches, arrange the
banners, the mottoes, legends and devices, and otherwise make a nice
affair of it, the arrival of the recipients of Corporation honors might
be postponed until tomorrow or Monday. We do hope that the Common
Council will not fail to honor these men after its usual fashion. They
have publicly left this State to engage in a prize fight, and have
accomplished their laudable purpose. Some persons, who are so far
behind the age as to have faith in the criminal code, say that they
ought to be sent to the penitentiary; but they are above and beyond all
codes, because they make the people who make the codes. Therefore, let
us give them a grand reception by the Corporation, with a banquet at
not less than ten dollars a head. They will be just in time, too, for a
couple of Aldermanic nominations. Let them have all the reward that a
grateful people can bestow upon its representative men.
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