A New Song
On the great Foot Race that was contested on the London Road, near Derby, on the 18th day of March, 1822, betwixt Jas. Wantling, of Derby, and Shaw, the Staffordshire Hero, for 2 Hundred Guineas.
The eighteenth day of March
Will long be handed down,
When thousands came from far
Into famed Derby town,
To see the great Foot Race
For one hundred guineas aside,
Betwixt Shaw, the Stafford Hero,
And Wantling, Derby's pride!
Fol de rol, &c.
Now the time is come
That these Heroes try their skill,
Whilst numbers flock together
Offering to lay who will;
Large sums are laid around
Ere they begin to run,
And mingled sounds you hear
Crying I take your bet—done, done.
Fol de rol, &c.
And now you see them striving
Which shall get the first,
Straining each nerve and muscle
Till their veins are almost burst;
But Wantling takes the lead,
And labours hard to gain
The money for his friends,
And establish his own fame.
Fol de rol, &c.
The race it soon was over,
Whilst women, men, and boys
Cried "Wantling still for ever!"
In shouts that rend the skies.
His name this day is raised,
As a Runner of great fame,
For Shaw, the Stafford Hero,
Has been beat by him again!
Fol de rol, &c.
All ye wise men of Staffordshire,
Who back'd Shaw on that day,
Having ventured all your money,
Leaving none your shots to pay,
Be wiser for the future,
If again you chance to come,
And bring more money with you,
Lest you go empty home.
Fol de rol, &c.
Then let us drink the Hero's health,
Whilst Fame proclaims his name,
May he never sell his honour
For the sake of sordid gain:
All base attempts to bias him
With scorn from him be hurl'd,
Then he will rise a wonder,
And astonish all the world.
Fol de rol, &c.
But let us act with honour,
And not run the Hero down,
Although he lost the race,
He's a claim to great renown;
For Shaw and his supporters
Have acted manly parts,
And any thing contrary
Is quite foreign to their hearts.
Fol de rol, &c.