On the same morning they met and robbed lord Eglinton, who was the prize for whom they originally went out. They effected this by a stratagem, as his lordship was armed with a blunderbuss. One of them screened himself behind the postboy, so that if his lordship fired he must shoot his servant, while the other with a pistol cocked demanded his money, and ordered him to throw his blunderbuss on the ground. But, it appears, the prize obtained at this hazard was but seven guineas, with which, and the cloak-bags, they returned to Maclaine’s lodgings before the family were up, and divided their spoil.
But though the clothes were described in the public papers, yet so infatuated was Maclaine, that he sold his share of the booty to a salesman, who instantly recognised them as belonging to a Mr. Higden, and the latter immediately had Maclaine taken into custody.
On his first examination he denied the fact, but afterwards, that he might leave himself no room to escape, he formed a design of saving his life by impeaching his accomplice Plunket, foolishly imagining that justice would promise life to a villain she had in custody, for impeaching another that was out of her reach. But “Quem Deus vult perdere priùs demontat,” or, to express a similar sentiment in the words of Massinger,—
“Here is a precedent to teach wicked men,
That when they leave religion and turn atheists
Their own abilities leave ’em.”
For though he was forewarned that a confession, without impeaching a number of accomplices, would not avail him, he still insisted upon taking that step, not from compunction or remorse, but with the base design of saving his own life at the expense of that of his quondam friend.
On his second examination he delivered his confession in writing, and behaved in a most dastardly manner, whimpering and crying like a whipped school-boy. This conduct, degrading as it was, drew sympathetic tears from, and opened the purses of his fair audience, whose bounty supported him in great affluence while he remained in the Gatehouse, and whose kind offers of intercession gave him hopes of a free pardon.
On his trial, he thought fit to retract his confession, pretending that he was flurried, and in some measure delirious, when he made it, and that he had received the clothes from Plunket in payment of a debt. But this evasion had no weight with the jury, who brought him in guilty without going out of court.
On receiving sentence, guilt, shame and dread deprived him of the power of speech, and disabled him from reading a paper, pathetically enough composed, in which he prayed for mercy.
In Newgate, ample time was permitted him to make his peace with his offended Maker, and there is every evidence to believe, from the testimony of the Rev. Dr. Allen, who attended him constantly to the last moment of his life, that his remorse and contrition were unaffected, sincere and strong.
He was carried to Tyburn in a cart, like the rest of the criminals, and not, as was expected, in a coach; he stood the gaze of the multitude (which was on this occasion almost infinite) without the least concern; his thoughts were steadfast in his devotion, and when he was about to be turned off he said, “O God, forgive my enemies, bless my friends, and receive my soul!” His execution took place on Wednesday, October 3, 1750.