"To the Public:
Jack Swilling, whose doors have always been open to the poor alike with those of the rich and plenty,
looks forth from the hunters. I have no remorse of conscience for anything, I have ever done while in my sane mind.
In 1854, I was struck on the head with a heavy revolver and my skull broken and was also shot in the left side and
to the present time carry the bullet in my body. No one knows what I have suffered from these wounds. At times
they render me almost crazy.
Doctors prescribed, years ago, morphine which seemed to give relief but the use of which together with strong drink
as at times--as I have been informed by my noble wife and good friends, made me mad and during these spells I
have been cruel to her at all other times I have been a kind husband. During these periods of debauch, caused by the
mixture of morphine and liquor I have insulted my best friends, but never when I was Jack Swilling, free from these
poisonous influences.I have tried hard to cure myself of the growing appetite for morphine but the craving of it was
stronger than my will could resist. I have gone to the rescue of my friend and I paid for it all. Thrown into prison,
accused of a crime that I would rather suffer crucifixion than commit. Taken from my wife and little children who are
left out in this cold world all alone. Is this my reward for the kindness?
I have done to my fellow men and the pay I must receive for having done a Christian act, with Munroe and Kirby that of going
after the bones of my poor old friend Sniveley and taking them to Gillett and burying them by the side of my dear child?
George Munroe, Andy Kirby and myself are as innocent of the charge brought against us of robbing the stage as an innocent
babe. We went out to do a Christian act. Poor L.G. Taylor, whom I liked and tried to help, has been one of those who
have wrought my ruin and for what I cannot conceive, unless it was for the reward money or to rob my family out of the old
ranch. The reason I write this is because I may be found dead any morning in my cell. I may drop off the same as poor
Tom McWilliams did at Fort Goodwin. My persecutors will remember me.
And may God help my poor family through this cold world, is my prayer.
John W. Swilling."