Doncaster, in Yorkshire, who died when his son
Nat was very young, but not, however, till he had given him some
education. He was bound by a friend, in whose hands his father left his
fortune, to a silk-weaver at Norwich, with whom he lived about three
years; but his master restraining his extravagancies, and taking great
pains to keep him within the bounds of moderation, Jackson at last grew
so uneasy that he ran away from his master, and absconded for some time.
But his guardian at last hearing where he was, wrote to him, and advised
him to purchase some small place with his fortune, whereon he might live
with economy, since he perceived he would do no good in trade. Jackson
despised this advice, and instead of thinking of settling, got into the
Army, and with a regiment of dragoons went over into Ireland.
There he indulged himself in all the vices and lusts to which he was
prone, living in all those debaucheries to which the meanest and most
licentious of the common soldiers are addicted; but he more especially
gave himself up to lewdness and the conversation of women. This, as it
led him into abundance of inconveniences, so at last it engaged him in a
quarrel with one of his comrades which ended in a duel. Jackson had the
advantage of his antagonist and hacked and wounded him in a most cruel
manner. For this, his officers broke him, and he thereby lost the
fifteen guineas which he had given to be admitted into the troop; and as
men are always apt to be angry with punishment, however justly they
receive it, so Jackson imputed his being cashiered to the officers'
covetousness, the crime he had committed passing in his own imagination
for a very trivial action.
Having from this accident a new employment to seek, he came over to his
guardian and stayed with him a while. But growing very soon weary of
those restraints which were put upon him there, as he had done at those
under his Norwich master, he soon fell into his old courses, got into an
acquaintance with lewd women and drunken fellows, with whom he often
stayed out all night at the most notorious bawdy houses. This making a
great noise, his friends remonstrated in the strongest terms, pointing
out to him the wrong he did himself; but finding all their persuasions
ineffectual, they told him plainly he must remove. Upon this he came up
to London, not without receiving considerable presents from his so much
abused friends.
The town was an ill place to amend a ma
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