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.