There’s nothing better than an escapist summer series. I discovered Outlander after my second child was born, when—exhausted by a newborn’s constant needs—the idea of disappearing into 18th-century Scotland was irresistible. Based on Diana Gabaldon’s novels, the show follows Claire Randall (Caitríona Balfe), a plucky nurse who enters an ancient stone circle and travels in time from 1946 to 1743, where she meets the perfect romantic hero: Jamie Fraser (Sam Heughan), a Highland lord built like a bronzed god—and with empathy to match.
I wasn’t alone in my Jamie worship. My friend Torri believes Jamie heralded today’s “romantasy” heroes: the likes of Rhysand from Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses and Xaden Riorson from Rebecca Yarros’s Fourth Wing. “He checks all the boxes—provider, masculine, yet sensitive and supportive of his partner’s independence. He was the first of that trend.” Another friend, Val, who fell for the books in 1998, says: “I loved the romance, history, and of course Jamie Fraser. I converted at least four female friends to the series. One threw the second book at me in mock frustration: ‘Where’s the third?’”
We’d meet regularly at Scottish pubs in the East Village to dissect plotlines and speculate about Heughan and Balfe’s real-life chemistry. Val even traveled to Scotland after the show premiered in 2014, surreptitiously photographing kilted bagpipers and visiting Fort William—where Jamie endures a brutal flogging by Captain “Black Jack” Randall and his father dies in shock—in a hunt for her own Highland warrior.
Other fans took guided Outlander-themed tours, as Scotland’s tourism board encouraged them to “give in to your kilty pleasures.” (Ahead of the show’s eighth and final season, expected to air next year, a prequel series, titled Outlander: Blood of My Blood, premieres on Starz on August 8.)
But was there ever a real Jamie Fraser? The short answer is no. In 1988, Gabaldon took notice of the kilted Jamie McCrimmon, played by Frazer Hines, on a rerun of Doctor Who; she then read Eric Linklater’s The Prince in the Heather, about 19 Jacobite officers who sheltered in a farmhouse after the 1746 Battle of Culloden. Eighteen died; only one, a Fraser, survived. And so the legendary Jamie was born.
In the series, Jamie Fraser was born at Lallybroch, his family’s (fictional) estate in the Scottish Highlands, to Ellen (née MacKenzie) and Brian Fraser. The two eloped and hid out in a cottage on the edge of Fraser lands until Ellen was obviously pregnant, forcing her brothers to accept the marriage. (The MacKenzies had wanted her to marry a member of Clan Grant…of course.)
The real Frasers trace their Scottish origins back to 1160, with one Hugh Fraser becoming the First Lord Lovat around 1460. More diplomats than warriors, they married well and governed peacefully—until the Jacobite uprisings embroiled them in the doomed attempt to restore the Stuart dynasty to the British throne. The Scots’ subsequent defeat at Culloden would devastate Highland culture: Britain banned tartans and suppressed the use of Gaelic, driving waves of Scots to America’s frontier.
The Frasers that remained were punished for their involvement in the rebellion, including Simon Fraser, 11th Lord Lovat (1667–1747), who became the last man beheaded in Britain. The phrase “laughing your head off” was reportedly coined after Simon giggled at his execution, watching a spectator platform collapse.
Jamie might have admired Brigadier Simon “Shimi” Fraser, 15th Lord Lovat (1911–1995), who led commandos onto D-Day beaches in 1944 (accompanied by his own personal bagpiper). Churchill called him “the handsomest man to slit a throat,” while Hitler put 100,000 marks on his head.
Today’s chief, Simon Fraser, 16th Lord Lovat, inherited his title at 18. Now 46, he was educated at Harrow School and the University of Edinburgh before pursuing a career in finance. He married Petra Palumbo—daughter of Peter Palumbo, Baron Palumbo—in 2016; the couple now lives in Beauly, Scotland, where Petra is a noted housewares designer.
Chatting with me over email recently, Fraser acknowledged that after Outlander came out, he noticed an uptick in interest around the Highlands and in Clan Fraser in particular. While he enjoys the fascination (and the romanticism) of those who make the pilgrimage to Beauly, he admits: “It does get a little awkward explaining that Lallybroch and the Stones don’t actually exist.”
Even so, the Fraser legacy seems as strong as ever: Russell Crowe, who recently discovered that he had a connection to the family, wore a Fraser tartan tie to Wimbledon, lent to him by Simon, a friend. (“He’s very keen on his ancestry and a proud Fraser,” the latter says.)
As for his own children, Fraser would like to see them engage with their past as they grow up. “I want their identities to be rooted in our Highland community, to give them a sense of belonging,” he tells me. And if Outlander helps contribute to their sense of clan community? All the better.