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ARCHIBALD MACDONALD was
perhaps the most perfect master of his hazardous profession of any who
ever practised it. Archibald was by birth a gentleman, and proprietor of
a small estate in Argyllshire, which he however lost early in life. He
soon distinguished himself as a cattle-lifter on an extensive scale; and
weak as the arm of the law might then have been, he found it advisable
to remove further from its influence, and he shifted his residence from
his native district of Appin to the remote peninsula of Ardnamurchan,
which was admirably adapted to his purpose, from its geographical
position. He obtained a lease of an extensive farm, and he fitted up a
large cowhouse, though his whole visible live-stock consisted of one
filly. His neighbours could not help making remarks on this subject, but
he begged of them to have no anxiety on that head, assuring them that
his byre would be full ere Christmas; and he was as good as his word. He
had trained the filly to suit his purpose, and it was a practice of his
to tie other horses to her tail; she then directed her course homeward
by unfrequented routes, and always found her way in safety.
His expeditions were
generally carried on by sea, and he annoyed the most distant of the
Hebrides, both to the south and north. He often changed the colour of
his boats and sails, and adopted whatever appeared best suited to his
immediate purpose. In consequence of this artifice, his depredations
were frequently ascribed to others, and sometimes to men of the first
distinction in that country, so dexterously did he imitate their
birlings and their insignia. He held his land from Campbell of Lochnell,
into whose favour he had insinuated himself by his knowledge and
address.
When Lochnell resided at
the castle of Mingary, Archibald was often ordered to lie on a mattress
in his bed-room, to entertain him at night with the recitation of the
poems of Ossian, and with tales. Archibald contrived means to convert
this circumstance to his advantage. He ordered his men to he in
readiness, and that night he selected one of his longest poems. As he
calculated, Locbnell fell asleep before he had finished the recital; the
robber slunk out and soon joined his associates. He steered for the
island of Mull, where some of his men had been previously sent to
execute his orders ; he carried off a whole fold of cattle, which he
landed safely, and returned to his mattress before Lochnell awoke. When
he lay down he purposely snored so loudly that the sleeping chief was
disturbed, and complained of the tremendous noise the fellow made,
observing that, fond as he was of poetry, he must deprive himself of it
in future on such conditions. To this Archibald had no objections; his
principal object was then accomplished, and taking up the tale where he
had stopped when his patron fell asleep, he finished it, and slept
soundly to an advanced hour.
The cattle were
immediately missed, and suspicion fell on Archibald ; but he
triumphantly referred to Lochnell for a proof of his innocence, and this
he obtained. That gentleman solemnly declared that the robber had never
been out of his room during that night, and the charge was of course
dropped.
A wealthy man who resided
in the neighbourhood was noted for his penurious habits, and he had
incurred particular odium by refusing a supply of meal to a poor widow
in distress. This man had sent a considerable quantity of grain to the
mill, which, as usual, he attended himself and was conveying the meal
home at night on horseback. The horses were tied in a string, the halter
of one fixed to the tail of another; and the owner led the foremost by a
long tether. His road lay through a wood, and Archibald there watched
his approach. The night was dark, and the man walked slowly, humming a
song; the ground was soft, and the horses having no shoes (as is still
usual in that country), their tread made no noise. Archibald ordered one
of his men to loosen the tether from the head of the front horse, and to
hold it, himself occupying the place of the horse, and walking on at the
same pace. He thus got possession of the whole. The miser soon arrived
at his own door, and called for assistance to deposit his winter store
in safety, but, to his astonishment, found he had but the halter!
Availing himself of the
credulity of his countrymen, he pretended to hold frequent intercourse
with a spirit or p genii, still much distinguished in the West Highlands
under the appellation of Glastig. This he turned to excellent account,
as die stories which his partisans fabricated of the command he had over
the Glastig, and the connexion between them, terrified the people so
much, that few could be prevailed upon to watch their cattle at night,
and they thus fell au easy prey to this artful rogue.
Archibald’s father having
died early, his mother afterwards married a second husband, who resided
in a neighbouring island. When she died, her son was out of favour with
his stepfather, and he was refused the privilege of having the disposal
of his mother’s remains, nor did he think it prudent to appear openly at
her funeral. He however obtained accurate information of the place where
the corpse was lying. One dark night, he made an opening in the thatched
roof of the earthen hut, and the wakers being occupied in the feats of
athletic exercise usually practised on these occasions, the body being
excluded from their sight by a screen which hung across the house,
Archibald carried it off to his boat like another Aeneas. He also got
possession of the stock of whisky intended for the occasion, as it lay
in the same place—thus discharging the last duties of a pious son with
little expense to himself.
A fatal event at length
occurred, which rendered it necessary for the man to retire from trade.
He made a descent on one of the small islands on that coast, and had
collected the cattle, when the proprietor (who had information of the
circumstance), made his appearance to rescue them. Archibald was
compelled to yield up his prey, but one of the villains who accompanied
him levelled his musket at the gentleman, and shot him dead from the
boat.
The robber was fully
aware of his danger, and, with the assistance of a fair wind, he shaped
his course for the mainland. He pushed on with all possible speed, and
arrived at Inveraray before sunrise the following morning. Having
information that Stewart of Appin was then in town, he watched his
motions, and at an early hour saw him on the street in conversation with
the sheriff of the county. Archibald, who was an old acquaintance,
saluted him, and his salute was returned. When Appin parted with the
sheriff, Archibald complained that he had taken no notice of him the
preceding day, when he accosted him in the same place. Appin said he was
conscious of having seen him, but that he was much hurried at the time,
and hoped he would excuse him. The robber’s object was accomplished.
Appin had no doubt of the truth of what he said ; and on his trial for
the murder, an alibi was established in his favour, from this very
extraordinary piece of address. Some of his crew were afterwards taken
in Ross-shire, and executed there by order of the Earl of Seaforth,
though the actual murderer escaped punishment. Archibald, however, never
again plundered on a large scale. He died about the middle of the 17th
century, and his name still stands unrivalled for cunning and address in
his calling. — [“Traditions of the Western Highlands” in the London
Literary Gazette] |
