Thus far, Broughton appears to have sailed on the wave of triumph. His patrons were numerous and aristocratic; but the confidence which good fortune begets was to prove to him a snare, as it has to many before and since. Slack, a butcher, and a pugilist of some note, but who had already succumbed to George Taylor, had, it appears, a quarrel with Broughton on a race-course, which led to a threat on the part of the champion that he would horsewhip Slack. The result was a challenge: Slack obtained friends, a match was made for £200 a-side, and as the door money was included in the sum contended for, it was estimated at £600 clear. Although properly falling under the biography of Slack, we here give the battle, for the purpose of rendering as complete as possible the history of the Father of Scientific Pugilism. Broughton’s overweening confidence proved his ruin; for, as we learn from a contemporary authority, “he refused to take training preparation,” although “he had not fought for a long time.” Let others take warning by his fall. On the evening previous to the battle (Tuesday, April 10, 1750) Broughton, who had invited his patrons and numerous friends to witness the battle, was rather apprehensive that Slack would not fight, and for fear any disappointment should take place, made the latter a present of ten guineas not to break his engagement. For the first five minutes, Broughton’s superiority over Slack was so evident, that the odds were ten to one in his favour; when Slack, recovering a little from the effects of his antagonist’s blows, made a sudden and unexpected jump, planting a desperate hit between the champion’s eyes, which immediately closed them up. Broughton now appeared stupefied; and as it was two or three minutes before the effects of this fatal blow were manifest, the spectators were at a loss to account for the unusual movements of Broughton, who appeared to feel for, instead of boldly facing and attacking his man. At length his patron, the Duke of Cumberland, exclaimed, “What are you about, Broughton?—you can’t fight!—you’re beat!” To which Broughton instantly replied, “I can’t see my man, your highness—I’m blind, but not beat: only let me see my man, and he shall not gain the day yet.” Broughton’s situation was truly distressing; and Slack, following up this singular advantage, obtained a victory in fourteen minutes! The Duke appears to have been most unworthily angered at his loss, which has been (we suspect extravagantly) stated to have amounted to £10,000. He always declared he had been “sold.” There seems no cause for such an assertion.