Mr. Jackson had for many years been stakeholder, frequently referee, and was always ready to go round personally to solicit a subscription for the beaten man—and who could refuse John Jackson? A match was made in 1822, between Randall and Martin for 500 guineas a side, but Mr. Elliot, Martin’s backer, “cried for his toy again,” in fact, demanded his money back. Mr. Jackson declared he would never again be a stakeholder, and he kept his word. Thus virtually he retired from the ring, and from that moment the ring declined. Its progress downwards has been checked, now and then, by men of good conduct, and battles of great interest. Spring and Langan (1824) revived the hopes of many. Dutch Sam from 1827 to 1839, rallied a few of the right sort around him, so did Burn and Owen Swift. A sort of reaction took place when Broome fought Bungaree; another, when Caunt fought Bendigo; again on the occasion of the great resultless battle of Farnborough between Sayers and Heenan in 1861; and lastly, the Benicia Boy’s pulley-hauley match with Tom King, awakened attention; but down, down, down, the ring was doomed to go, and in 1879 we may safely say that in writing its later history we have penned its epitaph. The management of fights fell into the hands of Jew speculators in special railway trains, whose interest it became _not_ to allow the announced battle to come off, and to repeat the process of plunder in the shape of extortionately charged “excursion tickets,” at one to three pounds each, until the fraud would no longer be submitted to.[63] John Jackson lived for many years at the house in which he died, No. 4, Lower Grosvenor Street West. The Old “Tattersall’s” may be said to have divided his residence from that of another great artist, the late John Liston. “It is with pleasing melancholy we remember,” says his old friend Vincent Dowling, “the Yarmouths, the Coombes, the Lades, the Ashtons, wending their way to the house of the one, while the Kembles, with perhaps Charles Mathews and Charles Taylor, Theodore Hook and Young, were standing in converse near, or visiting the low-roofed house of the latter.”[64] There is little more to say. Loved by many, respected by all, enjoying a large circle of excellent society, John Jackson passed his later days. Affluent, but not rich in the vulgar sense, he wanted less than he had, and his income exceeded his expenditure. He was a cheerful companion, sang a good song, told his anecdotes with great tact, and never obtruded them. For the last year or two before his death his health declined, but until then he rarely had a day’s illness. Peacefully and trustfully, with his hand in that of his niece (whom he loved, and had assisted as a daughter), John Jackson expired on the 7th of October, 1845, in the seventy-seventh year of his age. His death was as calm and resigned as his life had been exemplary.