The opening of “Jackson’s Rooms, 13, Old Bond Street,” was literally an era in the gymnastic education of the aristocracy. Not to have had lessons of Jackson was a reproach. To attempt a list of his pupils would be to copy one-third of the then peerage. Byron, who was proud of being thought a pugilist, has in his correspondence spoken highly of his tutor; but the fact is, from lameness, the poet could neither hit nor stop effectively. When Jackson taught the author of “Childe Harold,” he was forty-four, Byron about twenty-three; the latter therefore stood a boy before a veteran. In a note to the 11th Canto of “Don Juan,” we find this: “My friend and corporeal pastor and master, John Jackson, Esquire, professor of pugilism, who I trust still retains the strength and symmetry of his model of a form, together with his good humour, and athletic as well as mental accomplishments.”

And in his diary we read:—“Jackson has been here; the boxing world much as usual, but the club increases (i.e. Pugilistic Club). I shall dine at Cribb’s to-morrow.”

He records going to this dinner thus: “Just returned from dinner with Jackson (the Emperor of Pugilism), and another of the select, at Cribb’s, the Champion’s.”

The next extract shows the author of “Childe Harold” actually in training: “I have been sparring with Jackson for exercise this morning, and mean to continue and renew my acquaintance with my muffles. My chest, and arms, and wind are in very good plight, and I am not in flesh. I used to be a hard hitter, and my arms are very long for my height (5 feet 8¼ inches); at any rate exercise is good, and this the severest of all; fencing and the broadsword never fatigued me half so much.” This latter is dated the 17th of March, 1814.

“Got up, if anything, earlier than usual; sparred with Jackson ad sudorem, and have been much better in health for many days.”

Byron kept at his work, for we find him writing thus on the 9th of April, 1814: “I have been boxing for exercise for the last month daily.”

In returning to the younger days of the “finest formed man in Europe,” we shall take the liberty of borrowing a graphic colloquial sketch from the lips of a veteran: “There were the Lades, the Hangers, the Bullocks, the Vernons, but give me Jack Jackson, as he stood alone amid the throng. I can see him now, as I saw him in ’84, walking down Holborn Hill, towards Smithfield. He had on a scarlet coat, worked in gold at the buttonholes, ruffles, and frill of fine lace, a small white stock, no collar (they were not then invented), a looped hat with a broad black band, buff knee-breeches, and long silk strings, striped white silk stockings, pumps, and paste buckles; his waistcoat was pale blue satin, sprigged with white. It was impossible to look on his fine ample chest, his noble shoulders, his waist, (if anything too small), his large, but not too large hips (the fulcrum of the human form, whether male or female), his limbs, his balustrade calf and beautifully turned but not over delicate ankle, his firm foot, and peculiarly small hand, without thinking that nature had sent him on earth as a model. On he went at a good five miles and a half an hour, the envy of all men, and the admiration of all women.”

As regards his face nature had not been bountiful; his forehead was rather low, and the mode he wore his hair made it peculiarly so. His cheek bones were high, and his nose and mouth coarse. His ears projected too much from his head, but his eyes were eyes to look at rather than look with; they were full and piercing, and formed a great portion of his power as a pugilist—with them he riveted his men.

Anatomists of the first standing examined Jackson, and artists and sculptors without number took sketches and models of his arm; but it was the extraordinary proportion of the man throughout that formed the wonder.

After 1795 Mr. Jackson resolved to teach others the art in which he himself excelled. For an instructor he had that invaluable requisite, temper; he was never too fast with his pupils. This made his initiatory lessons tedious to young gentlemen who go ahead, and it may readily be conceived that amid the aristocracy of England he had plenty of rough assailants to deal with. But he was always on his guard; there was no chance of rushing suddenly in and taking Jackson by surprise—he could not be flurried. Amid the other qualifications he had studied Lavater, and managed to reckon up his customers at first sight, and knew what he had to trust to. It has been said “he defied any man to hit him;” this is the truth, but not the whole truth—he defied any man to hit him whilst he (Jackson) stood merely on the defensive; in a fight, of course, it is impossible to avoid being hit.