Folly and wickedness, as it were, naturally lead men to poverty, shame
and misfortunes, but when such miseries overtake persons who lived
soberly and in all outward appearance honestly, it is apt to create
wonder at first, and afterwards to excite compassion.
The unhappy man of whom we are now speaking was the son of a sailor, who
brought him when but a boy of three years of age up to London, and then
dying, left him to the care of his mother, who was too poor to give him
any education. However, he went to sea, and being a young man ingenious
enough in himself, and very tractable in his temper, he soon became a
tolerable proficient in the practical part of navigation. This
recommended him to pretty constant business, whereby he got enough to
maintain himself and his family handsomely enough, if he had thought fit
to have employed it that way; which for a considerable space of time he
did, keeping up a very good reputation in the neighbourhood where he
lived, and serving with a fair character on board several men-of-war,
going up the Baltic with squadrons sent thither to preserve the Swedish
coast from being insulted by the Moscovites.
After his return, he served on board the fleet which destroyed that of
the Spaniards in Sicily. He was afterwards coxswain in the Admiral, when
they served in the Mediterranean, and on the coast of Spain, but coming
home at last and being weary of going to sea, he took up the trade of
selling china and some small goods about the country; in which he got so
established a character that the gentlemen with whom he chiefly dealt
would have trusted him a hundred pounds on his word, and never anything
gave a greater shock to his neighbours and acquaintances than the news
of his being apprehended for a highwayman. However, it seems he had been
engaged to that course by his brother, notwithstanding that till then he
had lived not only honestly, but with tolerable sentiments of religion.
The method in which he was drawn to turn robber on a sudden was thus. On
the 19th of October, 1729, his brother came to him as he was working on
the outside of a ship on the other side of the water, and invited him to
go out with him to a public house, to which at first he was very
unwilling; but at last suffering himself to be prevailed upon, he and
his brother went together to a house not far distant, where they drank
to a higher pitch than James Drummond had ever done before. His brother
all along insinuated how advantageous a trade the highway was, owning he
had followed nothing else for some years past, and saying there was not
the least hazard run in it, at the same time advising his brother to
quit labouring hard, and to take to it, too. James was now grown so
drunk that he hardly knew what he did, so that after much persuasion he
got up behind his brother upon the same horse, but was afterwards set
down, it being judged by both of them to be better to rob on foot, while
he who was well armed and well mounted might be able to defend them
both. Having come to this fatal agreement, they immediately set about
those enterprises which they had consulted together.
The first robbery they committed was upon Mr. William Isgrig, from whom
they took sixteen guineas, seven half-guineas, three broad pieces, one
moidore, twenty shillings in silver, and a watch value two pounds. Not
satisfied with this the same night they attacked one Mr. Wakeling, on
the same road, and took from him a silver watch, and three or four
shillings in money, though not without much resistance, Mr. Wakeling
having drawn his sword and defended himself for a considerable time; but
perceiving one of the rogues to be a footpad, he followed him so
closely, and made such an outcry to the watch, that after a long pursuit
and a sharp struggle with him, they took James Drummond prisoner. His
brother after firing a pistol or two, rode off as fast as he could. At
the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey he was indicted for both offences
and upon very full and dear evidence convicted.
It was impossible to describe the agonies which this unhappy man
suffered while under sentence of death, the sense of his own condition,
the reflection on his former character, unsullied and untainted amongst
his whole neighbourhood, the consideration of leaving a wife and five
small children behind him, with small provision for their support, and
what was worse exposed to the reflection of the world on the score of an
unhappy father, scandalous in the last actions of his life, and
ignominious in his death. However, returning to his former principles of
piety and religion, he comforted himself under the weight of all his
misfortunes, by leaning on the mercy of God, praying fervently to Him to
grant him patience and protection under those dreadful evils which he
suffered. He acknowledged all to be exactly true which was deposed
against him at his trial, confessed the justice of his sentence, and
prepared to undergo it with as much submission and resignation as was
possible, and indeed perhaps no criminal ever behaved with more
penitence than he did. He died on Monday, the 22nd of December, 1729,
being then forty years of age.