Broome, on the giving up of the stakes, professing his readiness to maintain his title against all comers, accepted the offer of the Tipton to settle the vexata quæstio by another meeting, and articles were drawn up, and deposits to the amount of £25 made good, when Harry forfeited, on the plea that he had a match on (it came to nothing) with Aaron Jones, and had also accepted an engagement with Paddock. Curiously enough, the Slasher, who now dubbed himself “Champion,” afterwards signed articles with both these men, who both forfeited to him; Aaron Jones to the tune of £70, in July, 1856, and Paddock (whom he had formerly beaten), to the amount of £80, in October following.
Perry, who had been twenty-one years before the public, now became a publican and vendor of eatables and drinkables in a canvas caravansery at races, fairs, and all sorts of rural gatherings in the Black Country.
All this time the star of a 10st. 10lb. champion had been rapidly rising on the pugilistic world. Tom Sayers, having polished off the middle-weights, had been playing havoc among the “big ’un’s;” in 1856 defeating Harry Poulson (who had once beaten Paddock), and, in 1857, Aaron Jones fell beneath his conquering arm.
Six years had elapsed when “The Old Tipton,” as he was now popularly designated, was dared to the field by this new David. Right cheerfully did the old “Philistine man of might”—for the Tipton never lacked personal courage—respond to the “little ’un’s” crow. How the oft-repeated error of “trusting the issue of battle to waning age,” was again exemplified on the 16th of June, 1857, at the Isle of Grain, when the once formidable Slasher was conquered in the contest for £400 and the Champion’s belt by the marvellous little miller, Tom Sayers, may be read by those who are curious in minute details, in the life of that phenomenal pugilist, in Chapter XI. of this volume. This was the closing scene of the Tipton’s long and chequered career. He retired, defeated but not dishonoured, to his native county and early associates. In his latter days the Tipton is said to have never refused “a drink for the good of the house,” said house being his own special “tap.” Death finally overtook him, rather suddenly, at his home, near Wolverhampton, on January 18, 1881, in his sixty-first year.
[19] From this period Freeman returned to his theatrical and professional circus exhibitions, in which his gigantic size attracted the popular wonderment. He was a careless, good-natured fellow; and it was stated by the medical officers of Winchester Hospital, where the emaciated giant died of consumption on the 18th of October, 1845, that he had within him the fatal seeds of pulmonary disease from his first period of manhood. His end was of necessity accelerated by repeated colds, caught in the light attire of fleshings and spangles, in which he exhibited in draughty canvas erections, and crowded theatres and booths. This last remark is drawn from us by a senseless paragraph, in which a Hampshire penny-a-liner endeavoured to “improve the occasion” by suggesting that the early death of the good-natured, soft-headed acrobat was due to the dreadful injuries “he must necessarily have received in his terrible combat with the formidable bruiser known as the Tipton Slasher—injuries which from the tremendous stature of the combatants, must have been beyond ordinary calculation.” To this it may fairly be replied that the few fatal results on record from battles between big men is actually phenomenal—Andrew M’Kay (June, 1830) and Simon Byrne (May, 1833) being the only two on record; the others resulting from contests between middle or light weights, and several of these regrettable fatalities being proved by subsequent surgical examination to have resulted from accident, excitement, or apoplexy, induced by violent exertion.
[20] Not to complicate this confusion of “claimants” for the belt, we may here state that while Caunt, Bendigo, the Deaf’un, and the Tipton were playing duettos, trios, and quartettes, as leading performers in the discordant overture to the farce of “Who’s the Champion?” there was no lack of accompanying instrumentalists, each blowing his own trumpet of defiance, and thumping the big drum of “benefit” bounce. At the end of 1845, Caunt introduced a new candidate in the person of a formidable black, standing a trifle over six feet, and weighing hard upon 13st., who, rather curiously, dubbed himself William Perry! This mysterious “darkey” displayed such remarkable talent with the gloves, and was, in many respects, a man of such superior address and conversation, that he might well have been expected to turn out more than a second Molyneux. As, however, the proof of all pudding, whether black or white, is in the eating, an opponent was sought for the American importation. Bill Burton, of Leicester, a much smaller man, standing five feet nine, and weighing 11st. 10lb., was selected. Burton’s credentials were good; he had defeated Angelo, of Windsor, in May, 1845—a game contest of seventy-four rounds—and had been previously victor in many unrecorded affairs. The meeting took place on the 20th January, 1846. The Black more than justified the anticipations of his backers. He defeated Burton with the greatest ease in fifteen rounds, the Leicester man’s friends humanely throwing up the sponge at the end of twenty-four minutes of a hopeless, one-sided contest. This was the first and last appearance of the so-called William Perry in the English P.R. He proved to be connected with a gang of forgers of American bank-notes, and having been previously imprisoned more than once, he was now transported to the Antipodes, being provided with passage to Australia at Government expense, where, it would appear, he became a ticket-of-leave man, as he is recorded as having defeated Hough, the “Champion of Australia,” at Cumming’s Point, Sydney, in December, 1849. In the last-named year (1849) another “big ’un” came out, but quietly went in again. This was Con (Cornelius) Parker, standing six feet, and weighing 12st. 10lb.; his first victory was over Jem Bailey (Irish), in the Essex Marshes, February 13th, 1849. He then received forfeit from the Tipton in the same year; but, on November 26th, also in 1849, he had his “championship” pretensions ignominiously snuffed out at Frimley, in Surrey, by Tass Parker, who somewhat retrieved the disgrace of his double defeat by the Tipton, by triumphantly thrashing Mister Con, who ended the battle by a “foul.” Con then emigrated to America, where he died rather suddenly, on the 2nd December, 1854, at Buffalo, U.S. Soon after Tass took the money for this victory, his friends injudiciously claimed for him the title of “Champion,” but Tass wisely declined, in a letter, such a prominent position.
[21] Spring, after a short illness, died on August 20th, 1851, while this match was in progress. (See vol. ii. chapter 1.)