On 26 June 1750, beyond Hounslow, the Earl of Eglinton was returning in a post-chaise when a horseman placed himself before the postilion and commanded him to halt. The highwayman had chosen his ground with calculation: the Earl carried a blunderbuss, but the robber wagered he would not fire at the risk of striking the lad who drove the horses. Whilst he thus held the team at bay, his confederate thrust a pistol through the rear window and threatened the traveller within. Eglinton was compelled to yield up his blunderbuss, his money, and a greatcoat. A short while later, the two men stopped the Salisbury coach and carried off two portmanteaus. This was but one of the days upon which James Maclane turned outward elegance into an instrument of robbery.
The account published by William Jackson accords this encounter a central place, yet the road to crime had been opened long before. Maclane was the youngest son of a dissenting minister settled at Monaghan, in Ireland. His elder brother embraced the same religious calling, becoming pastor to the English congregation at The Hague. The father died when the younger son was about eighteen years of age; the inheritance that fell to him was squandered before he reached twenty. He sought the assistance of his mother’s kin, professing a desire to enter the naval service, but was met with a refusal. A gentleman named Howard then took him to London to place him in his own domestic service, yet Maclane soon quitted his employment and returned to Ireland.
His brother at The Hague subsequently undertook to defray a portion of his expenses, but such subventions could not sustain the station to which Maclane aspired. An officer who had known his father recommended him to a colonel possessing an estate near Cork, who engaged him as butler. Maclane remained in that household for some time, until he was dismissed for purloining effects. Driven to seek another course, he entertained the notion of enlisting in the Irish Brigades in the service of France. A confidant to whom he disclosed this design made it clear that he must renounce his religion to hope for advancement; Maclane refused to take that step.
Yet the colonel who had discharged him did not believe him entirely past redemption. Fearing he might fall into further dishonesties, he entrusted him with the custody of baggage to be transported to London. Maclane harboured a further ambition to enlist as a private trooper in Lord Albemarle’s troop; the colonel was disposed to furnish the money for his admission, but caused the sum to be remitted to an officer of the troop, then in Flanders, rather than place it in the hands of his former servant. Maclane thus had before him both employment and the means of returning to a settled course. He turned his back upon both.
He had already persuaded himself that an agreeable appearance might open every door. Certain women advanced him some fifty pounds, believing they were equipping him for a voyage to the West Indies; he laid out the greater part in fine raiment and sought to repair his fortunes through marriage. He took to wife the daughter of a horse-dealer, received five hundred pounds with her, and opened a grocer’s shop in Welbeck Street. For three years he maintained his household with tolerable credit. Upon his wife’s death, his two infant daughters were committed to the care of their maternal grandparents. Maclane sold the stock and furniture, then resumed the life of a gentleman of pleasure, sustained only by the appearance of opulence that his dress promised to the world.
Six months later, his resources were exhausted and he dreaded returning to domestic servitude. An Irish apothecary named Plunkett visited him and received the confession of his necessitous condition. Rather than urging him back to honest trade, Plunkett held out highway robbery as a means of living without yielding to penury. The two men agreed to divide their spoils and remain partners. Their first joint enterprise took place on Hounslow Heath: they stopped a grazier returning from Smithfield market and took from him, according to Jackson, some sixty pounds.
They next attempted a stagecoach upon the St Albans road. Here Maclane faltered. Plunkett ordered the coachman to pull up; Maclane then demanded the passengers’ money in such visible trepidation that he shook. Upon their return, Plunkett upbraided him for his want of spirit. Maclane soon took to the road alone and returned with a considerable booty, which he shared with his associate. Jackson also counts Horace Walpole among the gentlemen whom Maclane robbed.
An alarm subsequently drove him to the Low Countries. He visited his brother, who received him without any knowledge, according to the narrative, of how he obtained his livelihood. The clergyman gave him his counsel. When Maclane deemed that his offences were forgotten, he returned to England, resumed his depredations, frequented public places and gaming houses, and gained entry into respectable circles. He paid court to a young lady whose connections took alarm and warned her. When the doors of the house were shut against him, Maclane sent a challenge to the gentleman who had unmasked him. The other declined to meet an adversary whose reputation rendered a duel as suspicious as the life he led.
By June 1750, Maclane and Plunkett had grown bolder. The assault upon the Earl of Eglinton on 26 June was followed that same day by the robbery of the Salisbury coach. Eglinton did not appear against Maclane at the trial that sealed his fate. The two companions carried the portmanteaus to Maclane’s lodgings in Pall Mall and there divided the spoil. The public notices describing the stolen goods proved their undoing. Maclane had stripped the lace from a stolen waistcoat and took it to the very lace-merchant from whom it had originally been purchased. He likewise carried several garments to one Loader, a clothes-dealer in Monmouth Street. Loader followed him to his lodging, identified the apparel described in the advertisements, and feigned a lack of ready money so that he might go in search of a constable. Maclane was taken into custody.
Persons of rank, both ladies and gentlemen, attended his first examination; some contributed to his relief. He petitioned for a second examination and made a confession of the facts laid to his charge, as recorded by Jackson, before being remanded to prison. While he lay in the Gatehouse, a correspondent wrote to his brother at The Hague to apprise him of his calamity. The brother’s reply concealed neither his affliction nor his abhorrence: he declared he could no longer acknowledge him in so near a relation, yet provided for his sustenance and endeavoured to procure some mitigation of his punishment, adding that he feared the business would break his heart.
At his trial, Maclane pleaded not guilty. He read a written paper drawn up to palliate his offences; his former confession was produced, supported by other evidence. The jury brought him in guilty without quitting the box. When the court asked him what he had to say why sentence of death should not be passed upon him, he attempted to answer, but stopped short: “My Lord, I cannot speak.” He was condemned to die.
The Reverend Mr Allen, a Presbyterian divine called at his own request, found him dejected but by no means hardened. Maclane professed to fear the judgment of God far more than his earthly execution. Mr Allen inquired whether a repentance born only of the terror of death could be accounted genuine. Maclane answered that he hoped his contrition was unfeigned, so heavy was the remorse he felt for his crimes and for the grief brought upon his kindred. He firmly denied, however, that he had ever used his wife ill; Jackson observes that the tender manner in which her mother took leave of him lent weight to this denial. On the eve of his execution, his brother’s letter arrived. He seemed utterly crushed, hesitated before opening it, and then read it through with what little composure his tears permitted. Strangers present wept abundantly; afterwards, Maclane passed the night in prayer.
He was conveyed to Tyburn and executed in 1750. As the cap was drawn over his eyes, Maclane was heard to pray that God would forgive his enemies, bless his friends, and receive his soul.