Ingatherings n2 | Jul 2025

Inverurie fiddle
The author's encounter with a mystery Inverurie-made violin from 1875

‘Inverurie’ played on an old Inverurie fiddle – mystery Scottish violin brought back to life on its 150th anniversary

An old violin, made in the Aberdeenshire town of Inverurie by a previously unknown maker, was brought back to life on its 150th anniversary by musician sisters Sally Garden and Alison Hart. Loaned briefly by its owner, and restored to playable condition, the two captured its sound in a performance of James Scott Skinner’s appositely titled strathspey, ‘Inverurie’. But who exactly was the maker? And why was the fiddle made? Research by Dr Sally Garden has yielded some surprising answers. 

Lifted gently out of its battered case and raised to the light, there could be no doubt the old violin had been made in the Aberdeenshire town of Inverurie in 1875. That much was evident by the neatly inked, if oddly upside-down inscription inside.

But who exactly was the maker ‘Baillie Barron’ as styled in the inscription? And why had he made the violin?

James Barron's mellow-toned fiddle
The fiddle by 'Baillie Barron' lightly restored after years lying idle and in unplayable condition in its case (image: Mons Graupius)
Scots fiddler James Scott Skinner
Famed Scottish fiddler and dancing master James Scott Skinner whose strathspey tune 'Inverurie' brings Barron's Inverurie fiddle to life in the short film at the end of this article (image: courtesy National Library of Scotland)

A search of the relevant kirk and civic registers quickly established the maker’s personal identity (and north east Scottish credentials). Born at Kirktown of Clatt in Aberdeenshire in 1832, the son of a local ‘flesher’ he had become a merchant, and in later life, a ‘baillie’ of the burgh of Inverurie. His name was James Barron, but locals kent him best as ‘Baillie Barron’.

To the author, former Historical Musician in Residence at the Wighton Heritage Centre, Dundee, this begged an important question.

Amateur maker, or professional name?

Was Barron another Andrew John Wighton – a skilled nineteenth-century amateur maker? Andrew Wighton (1804-1866), by trade a Dundee grocer, was one of Scotland’s most important music collectors, who also found time to make a small number of string instruments, including a cello and a violin, but whose name is not recorded in the annals of Scottish violin-making. Barron was also a man of trade, and like Wighton, a respected figure in local municipal life, so there seemed a likely parallel. But equally, might Barron, instead, be counted as an overlooked or ‘forgotten’ professional maker?

Two factors suggested the latter was improbable. The first was the obvious short-cut in finishing the instrument’s ‘purfling’ – the traditional inlay which follows the contour of the violin’s upper surface to hinder any cracking. Instead of careful inlay, there were simply painted lines.

The second factor was the evidence gleaned from Barron’s testamentary documents: his will and inventory at the winding up of his not inconsiderable estate.

Up until his death in Inverurie in 1882, merchant James Barron had dealt with a large number of customers – a long list is recorded by his executors – too many to suggest he was making his living from instrument-making, and too diverse in occupation to suggest he might be operating in the music trade as seller or dealer. So what exactly was the nature of his business? And what gave him the means and motivation to make a violin, or violins? Might there be more instruments to discover?

Further research, using contemporary sources, pinpointed the location of Barron’s house and ‘shop’ in Market Place, in the heart of Inverurie, and the evidence of a regular stream of advertisements issued by Barron, confirmed that he was operating a ‘drapery’ selling ladies’ and gentlemen’s clothes, millinery, and fabrics including a large stock of ‘Scotch tweeds’. Barron was a master draper, not a master luthier!

From a pragmatic point of view, our enquiry and interest might well end there. But further facts and incidents of Barron’s business and also personal life, set the scene for a bigger story – and for tragedy. 

‘Loud and prolonged cheering’ and quiet dignity

Not only was Barron a respected baillie of the burgh of Inverurie, elected in 1869 to the ‘loud and prolonged cheering’ of his peers, but he was also captain of the local ‘volunteers’ – the 10th Aberdeenshire Rifle Volunteers – an overhang from Napoleonic times. So successful was he in raising the standard of this local corps, that on his retiral he was made honorary captain and presented with a gold watch.

Inverurie
Inverurie in a scene not unfamiliar to Barron, whose premises lay just out of shot to the left (image: Aberdeen Art Gallery & Museums)

When it came to the sad day of Barron’s funeral, not only did Inverurie’s shops and businesses close out of respect, but the Rifle Volunteers, in all their regalia, marched in slow procession before the hearse.

There was another reason, too, for the quiet dignity afforded Barron on his funeral day. For many years he had been superintendent of the town’s Burghmuir Sabbath School and was an elder of Inverurie Parish Kirk.

Baillie James Barron was unquestioningly, an upstanding citizen.

Notes of loss and grief

But tragedy struck Barron’s personal life and must sorely have tested his faith and his resolve. In 1877 his young wife, Margaret, daughter of an Ayrshire engineer and inventor, died of Phthisis, the cruel pulmonary wasting disease better known as Tuberculosis. Margaret Lilla Katherine was but 27 years old and left behind a family of four young children. Stung by his loss, widower James Barron struggled on for a mere five years, before he too passed away, in his 50th year.

Barron died of kidney and liver disease, quietly slipping away in a coma in the early hours of 28th January 1882. It would be hard to think he did not die of grief.

Had he perhaps made the violin as a gift for his ailing young wife? That might explain why the instrument was made to 7/8ths size, the convention at the time for ‘ladies’ violins’, and why, too, the instrument remained behind amongst Barron’s household effects at his death.

It was tempting to think these notes of loss and grief could be played out in the history of the petite, yet mellow-toned violin that had survived Barron and his beloved wife these 150 years syne.

But a warning to all scholars never to get ahead of the data – the only note to play out in this case, is a salutary one. A final discovery (always drive your data!) revealed that Barron’s fiddle, though certainly and perhaps cleverly intended for ladies’ use, was not made as a gift for his wife, but for an altogether different and distinctly generous public purpose.

Image of instructions
Instructions on 'How to Make a Violin' using proportions, lines and compass. This example, though published a few years after Barron's death, represents the kind of information available to the self-taught maker in the nineteenth century (image: Mons Graupius)

Taste, skill and a ‘splendid violin’

Rather, along with the Minister of the Parish Kirk who had chosen to fashion, of all things, a ‘fire-screen’, Barron, had chosen to fashion for the Inverurie Parish Kirk bazaar, a violin!

One local newspaper was quick to tell the tale and promote the good cause. ‘The members of the congregation’, it reported, were:

…seemingly determined that the quantity and quality of the work for the forthcoming bazaar shall not be behind the demand, for both ladies and gentlemen are busily engaged making almost every conceivable thing that is likely to sell. The Rev Mr Davidson has made a magnificent fire-screen, and Baillie Barron has shown considerable taste and skill in constructing a splendid violin, both of which articles were for some time on view in the latter gentleman’s shop window.

Perhaps the violin was bought at the bazaar and given back to the maker that he might enjoy the achievement of his ‘splendid violin’. It certainly seems unlikely it didn’t sell. Not least as Barron, a canny man of business, had likely calculated on appealing to a lady’s taste and local gentleman’s wallet – the reason for the 7/8ths size! And in such a couthie, tight-knit community as Inverurie, who would wish to disappoint such a weel-kent body as ‘Baillie Barron’? Or indeed the kirk?

Postlude

Whatever fate befell Barron’s violin after his death and its new lease of life today – it was listed for sale amongst his household effects simply as ‘violin, in case’ – is for now, a matter of speculation. But the author is grateful to the current owner for the privilege of briefly inspecting and playing the lovingly-made instrument.

Whoever next comes to own and care for Barron’s ‘splendid violin’ will have in their possession not an instrument of great or master quality, but an instrument of uniquely delightful provenance and personality. Baillie Barron’s upside-down maker’s inscription may strike the eye as ‘wrong’, but the generosity he showed in making his bonnie kirk bazaar fiddle, a full century and a half ago, was right and positive in every way! Perhaps that’s why its warm, generous tone and fullsome spirit still touches the heart today.

You can hear and see Barron’s lightly restored violin, played by Sally Garden and accompanied by Alison Hart, in the Mons Graupius short film ‘’Inverurie’ played on an old Inverurie fiddle’ here:

© Dr Sally LK Garden, Mons Graupius, Scotland 2025

Dr Sally Garden

About the author

Dr Sally Garden writes with singer’s ear and scholar’s eye about the music of Scotland and Scandinavia. She writes to encourage understanding and curiousity about the repertoire – so often rare – she has cultivated through the years on the concert platform.

 

About the article

This article is a work of public scholarship, intended for a wide audience. For full version (with notes and references) please contact the author at www.monsgraupius.org

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