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—