Sayers’ & Heenan’s Great Fight for the Championship
Upon the seventeenth day of April,
All in the morning soon,
The Yankee and the champion Sayers
Prepared to meet their doom.
The train it ran along like wind,
Coaches and cabs did fly,
Both men appeared determined
To conquer or to die.
They fought like lions in the ring,
Both men did boldly stand,
They two hours and six minutes fought,
And neither beat his man.
Tom hit at the Benicia boy
Right well you may suppose,
Heenan returned the compliment
Upon the champion’s nose.
Like two game cocks they stood the test,
And each to win did try,
Erin-go-bragh, cried Heenan,
I will conquer, lads, or die.
Cried Sayers, I will not give in,
Nor to a Yankee yield,
The belt I mean to keep my boys,
Or die upon the field.
They together stood it manfully,
Surprised all in the ring,
There was never such a battle, since
Jack Langham tackled Spring.
Such fibbing and such up and down
Lor, how the swells did shout,
Their ribs did nicely rattle,
And their daylight near knocked out,
Tom Sayers let into Heenan,
Heenan let into Tom,
While the Fancy bawled and shouted,
Lads, my jolly lads, go on.
Two long hours and six minutes
They fought, and the claret flew,
Sayers proved himself a brick, so did
Yankee doodle doo.
The bets did fly about, my boys,
And numbers looked with joy
On Sayers, the British champion,
And the bold Benicia boy.
They both had pluck and courage,
Each proved himself a man,
None better since the days of Spring
In the British ring did stand.
Erin-go-bragh, cried Heenan,
I want the English belt,
When Tom let fly, saying, I will die,
Or keep the belt myself.
At length bounced in the peelers,
And around the ring did jog,
So those heroes were surrounded
By a lot of Hampshire hogs,
Who caused them to cut their stick,
And from the fight refrain,
That they were both determined
In the ring to meet again.
We admit Tom Sayers had his match
One who did him annoy,
With lots of pluck and courage,
Was the bold Benicia boy.
And when two heroes fight again,
For honour and for wealth,
He that’s the best man in the ring,
Shall carry off the belt.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High Street, St. Giles, London.