The "holy man" of the foregoing remarks was apparently none other than the Ordinary of Newgate, the Reverend Samuel Smith, for the "Recantation" is followed by a postscript, signed "S. S.," which says: "Reader, let me assure thee this is no fiction, but a true relation of Mr. Jackson's life and conversation. Penned by his own hand, and delivered unto mine to be made public for his countrymen's good, in compensation of the many injuries he hath done them. The introduction he made in Newgate, after sentence of condemnation, and desired me to apologise for it, fearing he had neither wrote large enough for his true penitence, nor had laid down sufficient exhortations from the commission of the like offences; the disorder he was in, lying under the horror of a speedy and more than common execution, may plead his excuse: the plainness of his style may admit of this plea, that he aimed at (as he confessed to me) nothing but the good of his countrymen, and that as he had picked their pockets, he thought it needless to tickle their ears with the gilded straws of rhetorical expressions. God, I hope, hath forgiven him his sins, and may we all amend by his errors, for which he now hangs in chains at Hamstead, a sad and dreadful spectacle to all beholders, and hoping you will pass by the faults of his writing and the press, I subscribe myself a well-willer to all."
"S. S."
Jackson's own method of telling his story is of the parabolic moral kind, in which the facts lie hidden amid a mass of verbiage. He said little of his parents, except that they were too indulgent to him, supplying his youthful extravagances with so much money that he was often puzzled to find ways to spend it. As a result, these prodigal parents impoverished themselves, and then died, and their hopeful son had already so distinguished himself by his wild and extravagant courses, that none of his relatives would help, and refused even to see him. He at once sank from plenty into poverty and rags, his backside hung in tatters, and his coat had as many holes as a colander.
Although so miserable an object, no one would help him. He thought himself unfit for one of the plantations, and such a scarecrow that not even a kidnapper would take any notice of him.
At last, walking the streets of London in this miserable condition, he found a purse lying in the street. Trembling with excitement at his good fortune, he hastily slipped it into his pocket, forgetting that all his pockets were so full of holes, that they would contain nothing. It fell to the ground again, but he snatched it up, and hurried with beating heart into the fields, and there found the purse contained ten pounds in silver, and fifty guineas. He cautiously buried all this money but fifty shillings in the hedgeside, and then went and bought an ordinary ready-made suit of clothes, being afraid to at once purchase better, in case awkward questions might be asked, as to how so shabby a wretch became possessed of such means.
Thus decently attired, he thought he might venture to remove from the squalid lodging he occupied, and, taking rooms at a cautious distance, he gave out that he was the son of a country gentleman, come to London on law business. For a time he lived quietly, but growing discontented with the dulness of his quiet life, went and bespoke a fine suit of clothes and all necessary appurtenances befitting a person of quality, such as a silver-hilted sword, etc., saying he had received a considerable sum of money on account of the affairs that had brought him to town.
Being thus gallantly equipped, he soon made acquaintances, who were intimately versed in the ways of town, but more especially in cards and dice, at which they laboured with greater pains than a seven-years' student with the classics. With one of these he established a close friendship; and this new-found friend, undertaking to be his tutor in gambling and sharping, he was soon on the direct way to becoming a rogue, fully equipped in all the arts and subterfuges of those who live on their wits. At playhouses, ordinaries, cockpits, and bowling-greens, he was soon on the track of dupes whose pockets were to be dipped into, and he tells us how his tackling was so good and his hooks so well barbed that, after he had struck a gudgeon, he was sure to hold him, though he suffered him to play a little in the stream.
When at any time they fell into the company of any young country gentleman, sent up by his father to learn something of the polished ways of London, they fastened themselves upon him, introduced him into the fast life of town, and in the end plundered him and used his credit to obtain goods from confiding tradespeople. These two associates shared their fortunes in this manner for a year, varying their evil practices by now and then robbing a coach. They were unlucky enough to be several times flung into gaol and Jackson came near to losing his life for robbing a coach near Barnet; but he was fortunate in being able to get in touch with the person whom he had robbed, and to appease him by restoring the greater part of what he had taken, on condition that he should bring no evidence against him. He was accordingly acquitted. So easy was it, he says, to buy acquittals that it had become a proverbial saying that no man, unless he had committed treason or murder, need be hanged while he had five hundred pounds at command.