One of the most nebulous and poorly documented Native American presences in Scotland is that of the two full-blood Indians who are reputed to have accompanied Sir William Drummond Stewart (1795 - 1871) to his family seat at Murthly Castle, near Dunkeld, Perthshire, in 1839.

Sir William Drummond Stewart, a decorated veteran of the Napoleonic Wars who first set sail for North America in 1832, was one of a breed of aristocratic adventurers who during the first half of the 19^th century came to conceive of the American West as one vast playground existing for the pleasure of those of elevated birth and who reversed the ancient theme of the �noble savage� to re-invent themselves as �savage nobles�.

Sir William rubbed shoulders with many of the frontier notables of the day, and his adventures and tense encounters with the Indians were legion, but the most engaging part of his story for present purposes only begins with his return to Scotland during the summer of 1839, prompted by news of the death of his elder brother and consequent succession to the family titles and estates as the 19^th Lord of Grandtully and 7^th Baronet of Murthly.

Even more remarkable than Sir William himself was the entourage of human and animal companions which he brought home with him. He established a breeding herd of buffalo on the slope of Birnam Hill on the south bank of the Tay, as well as numerous other examples of American flora and fauna. To this day, there is a splendid terrace of Douglas Firs in the gardens, and an avenue of magnificent Sequoia trees lines the long driveway.

One member of Sir William�s retinue was Antoine Clement, the son of a French-Canadian voyageur in the service of the Hudson Bay Company and a Cree mother. Antoine was prevailed upon to cut his hair and otherwise modify his appearance during his time at Murthly, where he donned a black suit and assumed the role of Sir William�s valet. On one occasion, however, he was persuaded to model the full regalia of an Indian chief, to the astonishment of the guests in the drawing room and the terror of the servants.

One principal source for the story of Sir William and his Indian companions is Scotsman in Buckskin by Mae Reed Porter and Odessa Davenport, but in this book the two full-bloods who are alleged to have belonged to the party constitute a shadowy presence, of which very little in the way of concrete information is actually known.

When I visited Murthly Castle in August 2000, I was assured that the Indians at Murthly were lodged in the building left.

According to the Porter and Davenport account, Sir William and his party disembarked at Glasgow, presumably on the Broomielaw, on their arrival in Scotland, the full-bloods making their conspicuous first appearance on Scottish soil in their buckskins, blankets, moccasins and long black hair.

A further anecdote related in Scotsman in Buckskin is that one night, fuelled by a lethal mix of drunkenness and boredom, Antoine and the two full-bloods engaged in a wild escapade, binding a large row-boat onto four wagon wheels and hitching it to a pair of buffalo. They next proceeded to drive at full tilt through the streets of Dunkeld, to the accompaniment of wild warwhoops, no doubt shattering the nerves of the inhabitants of this usually placid locality.

The story, whose veracity apparently rests on hearsay evidence, is elaborated on by George Forbes in his article The Laird of the Wild West¹. According to Forbes�s version, the Indians were halted in their mad career when, on the bridge across the River Tay, their hastily improvised vehicle collided with the overnight mail coach which had selected this inopportune moment to arrive from Inverness. Whether this extraordinary yarn holds any firm basis in reality now seems impossible to determine but seems unlikely.

In endeavouring to chart the careers of Sir William Drummond Stewart�s Indians at Murthly Castle one is strongly tempted simply to conclude - �Let�s forget about being professional historians for a while and have some fun instead.� Not even the names or the tribal affiliation of the full-bloods appear to be documented and one is led to question whether they even existed.

In Scotsman in Buckskin, the Indians simply disappear from the account. Did they return with Sir William in 1842 when he made one last visit to North America? Did they tire of the Scottish rain or did they, like so many Native American sojourners before and since, succumb to some passing epidemic and perish?

In the form in which the story was first orally recounted to me, the Indians died of an illness and were buried somewhere along the banks of the Tay. As heathens, they could not be interred in hallowed ground. But, as with so much of the story, a great deal depends upon unsubstantiated folklore and the written record is desperately lacking. I have identified a number of contemporary newspaper articles, which make abundant mention of Sir William�s various comings and goings and exotic animals, but there is not a single reference yet discovered to the Indians.

It is not even clear what became of the buffalo. I have heard it said that after goring one estate worker too many, they were removed to a stately home in England. All that is known for sure is that they are not there now. Once again, there is anecdotal evidence and little else to rely upon.

Another distinguished American guest at Murthly around the same time was Alfred Jacob Miller. One of a remarkable generation of artists who did so much to preserve something of the American West of this period, Miller lodged at Murthly from the summer of 1840 until his departure for London in November 1841.

Miller set to work on translating his sketches into oil paintings, and his masterpiece The Trapper� Bride was one of the works completed at Murthly. When I visited Murthly Castle in August 2000, the Miller originals Indian Girl Swinging and The Death of the Cougar graced walls of the entrance hall, while An Attack of the Crows on the Whites at the Big Horn hung majestically over a stairway.

In addition to his various living specimens, Sir William also brought with him various inanimate souvenirs of his American adventures. During my visit to Murthly, I was delighted to discover a pair of carved buffalo chairs, whose existence I had read of in Scotsman in Buckskin, still proudly on display in the entrance hall.

Footnotes:

¹ At p. 19 of Scottish Memories, April 1993

Home