The story of James Macpherson is one which has induced much curiosity
and inquiry, and, short as the time is since he was done to death,
shows how soon facts may become garbled and altered in complexion. Sir
Walter Scott, for instance, makes Inverness the closing scene of the
proceedings. That he was wrong is clearly shown by the records of the
Sheriff Court of Banff.
James Macpherson was the illegitimate son of Macpherson of Invereshie,
by a beautiful gipsy girl who attracted his notice at a wedding.
He acknowledged the child, and reared him in his own house until he
lost his life in pursuing a hostile clan to recover a spreach of cattle
taken from Badenoch.
Macpherson, who had grown in beauty, strength, and stature rarely
equalled, then took his place in the clan, with the chief’s blood
flowing in his veins, as a young Highland freebooter, who, in
descending from the mountains with his followers, believed he was
only asserting the independence of his tribe, and when they harried
the Lowlands was only taking a lawful prey. Such acts were not, in
the opinion of the “pretty men” of those times, to be confounded with
pitiful thieving and stealing, but considered as deeds of spirit and
boldness calculated to make a man famous in his country side and among
his fellows.
Macpherson excelled in love as in war, and was the best fiddle player
and the best swordsman of his name. Tradition asserts that, if it must
be owned that his prowess was debased by the exploits of a freebooter,
no act of cruelty, no robbery of the widow, the fatherless, or the
distressed, and no murder were ever perpetrated under his command or by
his knowledge.
His sword and shield are still preserved at Duff House, a residence of
the Earl of Fife. The sword is one which none but a man of uncommon
strength could wield. It is two-handed, six feet in length, and the
blade nearly as broad as a common scythe. The shield is of wood,
covered with bull’s hide, and studded with brass nails, and is both
hacked and perforated in many places, telling a tale of many a hard
fought fight. Tradition also asserts that he often gave the spoils of
the rich to relieve the poor, and that his followers were restrained
from many atrocities of rapine by the awe of his mighty arm. Indeed, it
is said that a dispute with a foiled and savage member of his tribe,
who wished to rob a gentleman’s house while his wife and two children
lay on the bier for interment, was the cause of his first being
betrayed within the power of the law. From this toil he escaped, to
the vexation of the magistrates of Aberdeen, who bribed a girl of that
city, of whom Macpherson was very fond, to allure and deliver him again
into their hands, under pretence of hearing his wonderful performances
on the violin. No sooner did the frantic girl understand the true state
of the case than she made known, through a tribe of gipsies, the chief
of whom was Peter Brown, a notorious vagrant, the capture of Macpherson
to his comrades, when his cousin, Donald Macpherson, a gentleman of
herculean powers, came from Badenoch in order to join the gipsy, Brown,
in liberating the prisoner. On a market day they brought several
assistants, and swift horses were stationed at convenient distances.
There was a platform before the jail covering the door below. Donald
Macpherson and Peter Brown forced the jail, and while Peter Brown went
to help the heavily fettered prisoner, James Macpherson, in moving
away, Donald Macpherson guarded the jail door with a drawn sword. Many
persons assembled at the market had experienced James Macpherson’s
humanity or shared his bounty in the past, and they crowded round the
jail as if in mere curiosity, but, in fact, to obstruct the civil
authorities in their attempt to prevent a rescue. A butcher, however,
was resolved to detain Macpherson, expecting a large recompense from
the magistrates. He sprung up the stairs, and leaped from the platform
upon Donald Macpherson, whom he dashed to the ground by the force
and weight of his body. Donald soon resolved to make a desperate
resistance, and the combatants in their struggle tore off each other’s
clothes. The butcher got a glimpse of his dog upon the platform, and
called him to his aid, but Macpherson with admirable presence of mind
snatched up his own plaid, which lay near, and threw it over the
butcher, thus misleading the instinct of his canine adversary. The dog
darted with fury upon the plaid and terribly lacerated his master’s
thigh. In the meantime, James Macpherson had been carried out by Peter
Brown, and was soon joined by Donald Macpherson, who was quickly
covered by some friendly spectators with a bonnet and greatcoat.
The magistrates ordered webs from the shops to be drawn across the
Gallowgate, but Donald cut them with his sword, and James, the late
prisoner, got off on horseback. Some time after he was brought into
fatal companionship with gipsies, by the same power which led the old Grecian
hero to change his club for a distaff. The Highlander fell in love with
a gipsy girl, and with one companion, James Gordon, who eventually
paid the penalty with him, he entered for a time into the roving
company of the gipsy band. The Banffshire gentlemen, whom Macpherson
had plundered of old, heard with delight that the most dreaded of their
enemies had come almost unprotected into their boundaries. According
to the evidence on the trial, he seems to have joined the gipsies on a
rioting rather than on a plundering excursion in Keith market, when he
fell into the hands of his watchful foes, the chief of whom was Duff
of Braco. He was immediately thrown into prison, and brought to trial
with three persons, Peter Brown, Donald Brown, and James Gordon, his
companions, indited by the Procurator-Fiscal as “Egyptians or gipsies,
and vagabonds; and sorners, and robbers, and known habit and repute
guilty of theft, masterful bangstree, riot, and oppression.” When
brought into Court at Banff the Laird of Grant attempted to rescue them
from the claims of the law, by asserting his right to try them as being
dwellers within the regality of Grant, over which he had the power of
pit and gallows. The Sheriff, Nicholas Dunbar of Castlefield, however,
over-ruled the claim, and sustaining himself as judge, ordered a jury
to try the prisoners on the next day. This was accordingly done, when
they were found guilty and condemned, more apparently from a bad name,
than from any immediate crimes of which they had been guilty. The
Sheriff passing over the two Browns, the captain of the gipsy band and
his brother, sentenced Macpherson and Gordon to death, causing them to
be taken from the Court to the Tolbooth of Banff, from which eight days
afterwards they were to be conveyed to the gallows hill of Banff, and
hanged by the neck to the death on gibbets erected there. This hurried
sentence shows the influence which the fear of Macpherson, or private
enmity, exercised over the minds of Dunbar, the Sheriff, and the
jury, and hints at the influence exercised by Braco Duff upon Sheriff,
jury, and magistrates, especially as the Browns, his companions, were
not sentenced; in fact, they lay in jail for a year, and afterwards
made their escape from prison. Macpherson was an admirable performer
on the violin, and the ardent love for music was a fit ingredient in
the character of one who could so idly risk his life in the pursuit of
romantic love. His musical talent was evinced long before his capture
in the composition of a pibroch that goes by his name; and he is said
also to have composed the words and music, which, in his last moments,
he gave to the world under the name of “Macpherson’s Farewell”—
My father was a gentleman
Of fame and lineage high,
Oh! mother, would you ne’er had born
A wretch so doomed to die!
But dantonly and wantonly
And rantonly I’ll gae,
I’ll play a tune and dance it roun’
Below the gallows tree.
The Laird o’ Grant with power aboon
The royal majesty,
He pled fu’ well for Peter Brown
But let Macpherson die.
But dantonly, &c.
But Braco Duff, in rage enough,
He first laid hands on me;
If death did not arrest my course,
Avenged I should be.
But dantonly, &c.
I’ve led a life o’ meikle strife,
Sweet peace ne’er smiled on me,
It grieves me sair that I maun gae
An’ na avenged be.
But dantonly, &c.
The verses of the song above given represent him as a musician, and as
determined to display, which he certainly did, a mood of recklessness
such as the boldest felon seldom evinces when below the fatal tree.
Burns on his tour through the Highlands, it is very probable learned
both the air and the tradition connected with it, and it may be
that while composing, what Lockhart calls a grand lyric, he had
Macpherson’s words in his mind. Burns has written—
Sae rantonly, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntingly gaed he,
He played a spring and danced it round
Below the gallows tree.
I’ve lived a life of sturt and strife
I die by treacherie,
It burns my heart I must depart
And not avenged be.
Now farewell light thou sunshine bright,
And all beneath the sky,
May coward shame disdain his name
The wretch that dares not die.
Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntingly gaed he,
He played a spring and danced it round
Below the gallows tree.
On the eighth day after his trial he was brought with his companion,
Gordon, to the foot of the fatal tree, several hours before the time
specified in the sentence for his execution.
It is said that his death was hurried on by the Magistrates, and that
they also caused the messenger intrusted with a reprieve to be stopped
by the way, in consequence of which acts of injustice it is alleged
the town of Banff was deprived of the power of trying and executing
malefactors. When the freebooter came to the foot of the gallows tree
in presence of the spectators who had come to witness his untimely end,
he played with the utmost pathos the fine tune, “Macpherson’s
Farewell,” which he had previously composed. When he had finished he
asked if he had any friend in the crowd to whom a last gift of his
violin would be acceptable on condition of his playing the same tune
over his body at his lyke wake. No one had the hardihood to claim
friendship with one in whose crimes the acknowledgment might imply
a participation, and the freebooter saying that the instrument had
been his solace in many a gloomy hour, and that it should now perish
with him, broke it over his knee, and, scattering the fragments among
the crowd, immediately flung himself off the ladder. Thus died James
Macpherson, who, if he was a freebooter, possessed the heart of an
errant knight. Donald Macpherson, his relative and friend, picked up
the neck of the violin which is still preserved in the family of Cluny,
Chief of the Macphersons. One thing is certain amid all the traditions
which have come down regarding this bold and singular robber; his
strength and stature far exceeded those of common men; and this was
proved, when his grave was opened some years ago, by the examination of
his bones.
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