Praise for His Bloody Project
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‘A gripping crime story, a deeply imagined historical novel, and glorious writing – all in one tour-de-force of a book. Macrae Burnet is an exceptional new voice in Scottish literature.’ Chris Dolan
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Praise for The Disappearance of Adèle Bedeau
Selected amongst Scotland’s best 2014 titles by the List magazine
‘A solid detective story and a compelling character study [make this] a captivating psychological thriller.’ Alastair Mabbott, Herald
‘A refreshing new storyteller who presents his morbidly interesting tales in a most assured and riveting fashion.’ Scottish Books
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Also by Graeme Macrae Burnet
The Disappearance of Adèle Bedeau
His Bloody Project
His
Bloody
Project
Documents Relating to the Case of
Roderick Macrae
A NOVEL
Edited and introduced by
Graeme Macrae Burnet
Contents
Praise for His Bloody Project
Also by Graeme Macrae Burnet
His Bloody Project
Preface
Statements by Residents of Culduie
Map of Culduie and the Surrounding Area
The Account of Roderick Macrae
Glossary
Medical Reports
Extract from Travels in the Border-lands of Lunacy by J. Bruce Thomson
The Trial
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Copyright
The quern performs best when
the grindstone has been pitted.
Highland proverb
Preface
I am writing this at the behest of my advocate, Mr Andrew Sinclair, who since my incarceration here in Inverness has treated me with a degree of civility I in no way deserve. My life has been short and of little consequence, and I have no wish to absolve myself of responsibility for the deeds which I have lately committed. It is thus for no other reason than to repay my advocate’s kindness towards me that I commit these words to paper.
So begins the memoir of Roderick Macrae, a seventeen-year-old crofter, indicted on the charge of three brutal murders carried out in his native village of Culduie in Ross-shire on the morning of the 10th of August 1869.
It is not my intention to unduly detain the reader, but a few prefatory remarks may provide a little context to the material collected here. Those readers who prefer to proceed directly to the documents themselves are of course free to do so.
In the spring of 2014, I embarked on a project to find out a little about my grandfather, Donald ‘Tramp’ Macrae, who was born in 1890 in Applecross, two or three miles north of Culduie. It was in the course of my research at the Highland Archive Centre in Inverness that I came across some newspaper clippings describing the trial of Roderick Macrae, and with the assistance of Anne O’Hanlon, the archivist there, discovered the manuscript which comprises the largest part of this volume.
By any measure, Roderick Macrae’s memoir is a remarkable document. It was written in the gaol at Inverness Castle approximately between the 17th of August and the 5th of September 1869, while Roderick awaited trial. It was the existence of the memoir, rather than the murders themselves, which turned the case into something of a cause célèbre. The memoir – or at least the most sensational parts of it – was later reprinted in countless chapbooks or ‘penny dreadfuls’ and provoked great controversy.
Many, especially among the literati of Edinburgh, doubted its authenticity. Roderick’s account revived memories of the Ossian scandal of the late eighteenth century in which James Macpherson claimed to have discovered and translated the great epic of Gaelic poetry. Ossian quickly assumed the status of a classic of European literature, but was later found to have been a fake. For Campbell Balfour, writing in the Edinburgh Review, it was ‘quite inconceivable that a semi-literate peasant could produce such a sustained and eloquent piece of writing … The work is a hoax and those who extol this most pitiless murderer as some kind of noble savage will in time be left red-faced.’* For others, both the murders and the memoir attested to the ‘terrible barbarism which continues to thrive in the northern regions of our country [and which] all the efforts of our dedicated presbytery and the great improvements† of the past decades have failed to eradicate.’‡
For yet others, however, the events described in the memoir provided evidence of the injustice of the feudal conditions under which the Highland crofter continued to toil. While taking care not to condone his actions, John Murdoch, who was later to establish the radical newspaper The Highlander, saw in Roderick Macrae ‘a figure driven to the edge of his reason – or beyond – by the cruel system which make slaves of men who wish only to eke an honest living from a borrowed patch of land.’§
As to the authenticity of the document, it is not possible, a century and a half later, to provide a definitive answer. It is without doubt remarkable that anyone so young could produce such an eloquent account. However, the idea that Roderick Macrae was a ‘semi-literate peasant’ is a product of the prejudice which continued to exist towards the north in the affluent cities of the Central Belt. The curriculum of the nearby Lochcarron primary school from the 1860s records that children were instructed in Latin, Greek and science. Roderick could have expected a similar education at his school in Camusterrach and his memoir attests both to this and to the fact that he was an uncommonly gifted pupil. The fact that Roderick could have written the memoir does not, of course, prove that he did. For this we have the evidence of the psychiatrist, James Bruce Thomson, whose own memoir attests to having seen the document in Roderick’s cell. Sceptics could (and did) aver that Thomson never actually saw Roderick write anything, and it must be admitted that, were the memoir to be submitted to a modern trial, the chain of evidence could not be wholly verified. The idea that the memoir was actually written by another hand (the chief suspect being Roderick’s advocate, Andrew Sinclair) cannot entirely be dismis
sed, but it requires the convoluted thinking of the most outré conspiracy theorist to believe this to be the case. Then there is the content of the document itself, which contains such a wealth of detail that it is scarcely plausible that it was not written by a native of Culduie. Furthermore, Roderick’s account of the events leading up to the murders did, with some minor exceptions, largely tally with the evidence of other witnesses at the trial. For these reasons, and having examined the manuscript first-hand, I have no doubts as to its authenticity.
In addition to Roderick Macrae’s account, this volume also includes the police statements of various residents of Culduie; the post-mortem reports on the victims; and, perhaps most fascinatingly of all, an extract from J. Bruce Thomson’s memoir, Travels in the Border-Lands of Lunacy, in which he recounts his examination of Roderick Macrae and a visit he made to Culduie in the company of Andrew Sinclair. Thomson was the Resident Surgeon in charge of the General Prison for Scotland at Perth, where those deemed unfit to stand trial on grounds of insanity were housed. Mr Thomson put the opportunity this position afforded him to good use, publishing two influential articles – ‘The Hereditary Nature of Crime’ and ‘The Psychology of Criminals’ – in the Journal of Mental Science. He was well-versed in the new theory of evolution and the still nascent discipline of Criminal Anthropology, and while some of the views expressed might be unpalatable to the modern reader, it is worth bearing in mind the context in which they were written, and that they represent a genuine effort to move beyond a theological view of criminality and reach a better understanding of why certain individuals come to commit violent crimes.
Finally, I have included an account of the trial, drawn from contemporary newspaper coverage and the book A Complete Report of the Trial of Roderick John Macrae, published by William Kay of Edinburgh in October 1869.
It is not possible, almost a century and a half later, to know the truth of the events recounted in this volume. The accounts presented here contain various discrepancies, contradictions and omissions, but taken together they form a tapestry of one of the most fascinating cases in Scottish legal history. Naturally I have come to my own view of the case, but I shall leave it to the reader to reach his or her own conclusions.
A note on the text
As far as I have been able to ascertain, this is the first time Roderick Macrae’s memoir has been published in its entirety. Despite the passage of time and the fact that for some years it was not stored with any great care, the manuscript is in remarkably good condition. It was written on loose sheets and at some later point bound with leather strings, this being evidenced by the fact that the text on the inner edge of the pages is sometimes obscured by the binding. The handwriting is admirably clear with only the most occasional crossings-out and false starts. In preparing the document for publication, I strived at all times to be true to the sense of the manuscript. At no point did I attempt to ‘improve’ the text or correct awkward turns of phrase or syntax. Such interventions would, I think, only serve to cast doubt on the authenticity of the work. What is presented is, as far as possible, the work of Roderick Macrae. Some of the vocabulary used may be unfamiliar to some readers, but rather than overburden the text with footnotes, I have opted to include a short glossary at the end of this section. It is also worth pointing out that throughout the memoir individuals’ real names and nicknames are used interchangeably – Lachlan Mackenzie, for example, is generally referred to as Lachlan Broad. The use of nicknames remains common in the Scottish Highlands – at least among the older generation – probably as a way of distinguishing between different branches of the most widespread family names. Nicknames are commonly based on professions or eccentricities, but they can also be passed on from one generation to the next to the point where the origin of the name becomes a mystery even to its holder.
I have largely restricted my editorial interventions to matters of punctuation and paragraphing. The manuscript is written in one unbroken stream, save perhaps for moments at which Roderick took up his pen from one day to the next. I took the decision to introduce paragraphs for the sake of readability. Similarly, the text is largely unpunctuated, or eccentrically so. Thus, the majority of the punctuation is mine, but again, my guiding principle was to be true to the original. If my judgements in this seem questionable, I can only direct the reader to consult the manuscript, which remains in the archive at Inverness.
GMB, July 2015
* * *
* Campbell Balfour, ‘Our Century’s Ossian’, Edinburgh Review, October 1869, No. CCLXVI.
† This is a reference to the Highland Clearances.
‡ Editorial, the Scotsman, 17 September 1869.
§ John Murdoch, ‘What we might learn from this case’, Inverness Courier, 14 September 1869.
Statements by Residents of Culduie
Statements
gathered from various residents of Culduie and the surrounding area by Officer William MacLeod of Wester Ross police force, Dingwall, on the 12th and 13th of August 1869
Statement of Mrs Carmina Murchison [Carmina Smoke], resident of Culduie, 12th August 1869
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I have known Roderick Macrae since he was an infant. I generally found him to be a pleasant child and later to be a courteous and obliging young man. I believe he was greatly affected by the death of his mother, who was a charming and gregarious woman. While I do not wish to speak ill of his father, John Macrae is a disagreeable person, who treated Roddy with a degree of severity I do not believe any child deserves.
On the morning of the dreadful incident, I spoke to Roddy as he passed our house. I cannot recall the precise content of our conversation, but I believe he told me that he was on his way to carry out some work on land belonging to Lachlan Mackenzie. He was carrying some tools, which I took to be for this purpose. In addition, we exchanged some remarks about the weather, it being a fine and sunny morning. Roderick appeared quite composed and betrayed no sign of fretfulness. Sometime later, I saw Roddy make his way back along the village. He was covered from head to foot in blood and I ran from the threshold of my house, thinking that some accident had befallen him. As I approached, he stopped and the tool he was carrying dropped from his hand. I asked what had happened and he replied without hesitation that he had killed Lachlan Broad. He appeared quite lucid and made no attempt to continue along the road. I called to my eldest daughter to fetch her father, who was working in the outbuilding behind our house. On seeing Roddy covered in blood, she screamed, and this brought other residents of the village to their doors and caused those at work on their crops to look up from their labour. There was very quickly a general commotion. I confess that in these moments my first instinct was to protect Roddy from the kinsmen of Lachlan Mackenzie. For this reason, when my husband arrived at the scene, I asked him to take Roddy inside our house without telling him what had occurred. Roddy was seated at our table and calmly repeated what he had done. My husband sent our daughter to fetch our neighbour, Duncan Gregor, to stand guard and then ran to Lachlan Mackenzie’s house, where he discovered the tragic scene.
Statement of Mr Kenneth Murchison [Kenny Smoke], stonemason, resident of Culduie, 12th August 1869
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On the morning in question I was working in my outbuilding behind my house, when I heard a general commotion from the village. I emerged from my workshop to be greeted by my eldest daughter, who was greatly distressed and unable to properly inform me of what had occurred. I ran towards the congregation of people outside our house. Amid the confusion, my wife and I took Roderick Macrae into our house, believing that he had been injured in some accident. Once inside my wife informed me of what had occurred and when I asked Roderick if this was true he repeated quite calmly that it was. I then ran to the home of La
chlan Mackenzie and found a scene too dreadful to describe. I closed the door behind me and examined the bodies for signs of life, of which there were none. Fearing a general outbreak of violence, were any of Lachlan Broad’s kinsmen to lay eyes on this scene, I went outside and summoned Mr Gregor to stand guard over the property. I ran back to my own house and took Roddy from there to my outbuilding, where I barricaded him in. He did not resist. Mr Gregor was unable to prevent Lachlan Broad’s kinsmen from entering the premises and seeing the bodies there. By the time I had confined Roddy, they had formed themselves into a vengeful mob, which it took some time and persuasion to subdue.
As to the general character of Roderick Macrae, there is no doubt that he was a queer boy, but whether this was by nature or had been brought on by the tribulations which his family has suffered I am not qualified to say. The evidence of his deeds, however, does not speak of a sound mind.
Statement of the Reverend James Galbraith, minister at the Church of Scotland, Camusterrach, 13th August 1869
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I fear the wicked deeds lately committed in this parish only represent a bubbling to the surface of the natural state of savagism of the inhabitants of this place, a savagism that the Church has of late been successful in suppressing. The history of these parts, it has been said, is stained with black and bloody crimes, and people exhibit a certain wildness and indulgence, and such traits cannot be bred out in a matter of generations. While the teachings of the Presbytery are a civilising influence, it is inevitable that now and again the old instincts come to the fore.
Nonetheless, one cannot fail to be shocked on hearing of acts such as those committed in Culduie. Of all the individuals in this parish, however, one is least surprised to hear that Roderick Macrae is the perpetrator. Although this individual has attended my church since childhood, I always sensed that my sermons fell on his ears as seeds on stony ground. I must accept that his crimes represent, in some degree, a failure on my part, but sometimes one must sacrifice a lamb for the general good of the flock. There was always a wickedness, easily discernible, about that boy which I regret to say was beyond my reach.
His Bloody Project Page 1
