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SOME REMINISCENCES

AND

THE BAGPIPE.

The Author's Favourite Pipe.

Photographed by the Threc-Colour Process.

Blocks presented by Dr. Maitland Ramsay, of Glasgow.

The drones are made on the model ot those attached to the Edinburgh Museum
Pipe, i.e., without combing and with pear-shaped terminals.

Musro

LIBRARY

Some Reminiscences

AND

The Bagpipe

ALEXANDER DUNCAN ERASER

M.D.. D.P.H., EDIN.

ILLUSTRATED.

EDINBURGH: WM. J. HAY, JOHN KNOX'S HOUSE.
FALKIRK: JOHN CALLANDER.

FALKIRK :
PRINTED BY JOHN CALLANDER,
97 HIGH STREET.

Miisic
,'^"S/c Library

Library

KIL

C/ia nigh na tha dh'uisge 's a'-mhuir ar cairdeas. . Q^. 3

THIS BOOK

DEDICATED BY PERMISSION

MY CHIEF
SIMON JOSEPH FRASER, SIXTEENTH LORD LOVAT

WHOSE WHOLE LIFE
BOTH
IN PRIVATE AND IN PUBLIC
HAS BEEN
ONE CONTINUOUS ILLUSTRATION
OF
THE GAELIC PROVERB :
" BIDH AN T-UBHAL AS FHEARR
AIR
A MHEANGAN AS AIRDE."

PREFACE.

This little work is the outcome of a series of lectures
given by me at intervals during the last twelve years
to different Highland Societies. It is also an expression
of the indignation which so much false criticism of the
Great War Pipe of the Highlands, repeated in my
hearing year after year, has aroused within me.

I take this opportunity of apologising for the style
and diction of the book — it is difficult for one so
unused to the pen as I am, to change the spoken into
the written word.

The few sentences in Gaelic are spelt for the most
part phonetically.

My best thanks are due to all who have helped me
in any way, and especially to those kind friends who
have put themselves to much trouble and expense in
their endeavour to add to my collection of Bagpipes.

In two or three instances, I have spoken in depre-
ciation of other peoples' writings, but the reputation of
these writers stands too high to be affected by the criti-
cisms of a single and unknown individual like myself.

The motives which have impelled me to write have
nothing personal in them.

My whole life has been devoted to the relief of
suffering, nor would I hurt for the sake of hurting, but

vni PREFACE

if anything I hav^e said here in defence of the " dear
old Bagpipe " should happen to give offence to any
man, — "even unto the least of these," — I here and
now heartily apologise.

In conclusion, allow me to state that no one can
be more alive to the many imperfections of this work
— to its many inaccuracies — than I am ; therefore
gentle reader, however severe your criticism other-
wise may be,

"... Accuse me not
Of arrogance ..."

A. D. F.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

CHAP.

I, — Introductory .. ... ... •• •

11.— Do ... ••• 9

III.— Do ... .. ... ••• 32

IV.— A Well-Abused Instrument ... . 42

v.— The Critics and the Bagpipe ... .. 44

VI.— A Royal Instrument ... 5'

VII.— The Why and the Wherefore ^. ... 56

VIII.— Wanted : A Book on the Bagpipe .. 64

IX.— Old New Year : A Reminiscence ... ... 7°

X.— An Interesting Byway ... 77

XL— The Delicately-Attuned Ear and the Bagpipe 81

XII.— The Musician and the Bagpipe ... 93

XIII.— A Highland Instrument ... ... 103

XIV.— The Bagpipe, the National Instrument hi

XV.— The Scottish Bagpipe ... ... ... 120

XVI.— Bagpipe Influences at Work ... ... 129

XVII.— Gaelic Song and the Bagpipe ... ... 139

XVIII.— The Glamour of the Highlands ... 148

XIX.— No Prehistoric Bagpipe in existence ... 153

XX. — Ancient Myth and the Bagpipe ... 163

XXL— Piper Pan ... ... ••• 167

XXIL— Pallas Athene ... ... ... i79

XXIIL— Theocritus and the Bagpipe ... ... 197

XXIV.— The Classics and the Bagpipe ... 204

XXV.— The Nativity and the Bagpipe ... ... 216

XXVL— An Old Tradition ... .- ... 221

X CONTENTS

XXVII. — The Romans and the Bagpipe ... ... 226

XXVIII. — The Spread of the Bagpipe ... ... 237

XXIX.— The Piper ... ... .. .. 254

XXX. — The Bagpipe in Scotland ... ... 273

XXXI. — Piping and Dancing dying out in the Highlands 300

XXXIa. — Skye in 1876 ... .. ... 313

XXXII.— The Chorus .. .. .. 348

XXXIII. — The Great Highland Bagpipe .. 360

XXXIV. — The Great Highland Bagpipe : Its Antiquity 380

XXXV. — Mr Macbain and the Bagpipe ... 393

XXXVI. — A Great War Instrument .. ... 404

XXXVII.— The Pipe at Funeral Rites ... ... 413

XXXVIII.— Bagpipe Music ... ... .. 420

XXXIX. — Can the Bagpipe Speak? . ... 425

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

(From photographs by J. P. Miller, Falkirk).

The Author's Favourite Pipe ... ... Frontispiece

)

FACING
PAGE

German Band of 1739 ... ... ... 8

Chanter and Drone Reeds

Highland Pipe Reeds

The Gheeyita of Spain ... ... ... 32

Old Irish Bagpipes ... ••■ ••• ••• 4°

Tuning up the Northumbrian Small Pipe ... 48

An African Bagpipe ... •• ... ... S^

Photograph of Wooden Piper... ... ... 64

Two Instruments allied to the Bagpipe ... ... 72

An Old Print ... ... ... ... 80

Two Specimens of Irish Stocks ... ... ... 88

A French Piper ... ... .-• ••• 96

The Magic of the Photograph ... ... ... 102

"A Relic of Waterloo" ... ... ••■ 121

The Cuisleagh Ciuil of Ireland ... ... ... 144

The Pan Pipe ... ••■ ••• ••• '68

A Bagpipe of "Ane Reed and Ane Bleddir " ... 184

Italian Pifferari ... ... ••. ••• 208

The Zampogna of Italy ... ... ... ... 216

The Celtic Piva or Bagpipe of Northern Italy ... 232

The Hungarian Bagpipe ... •• ••. ••. 243

A Two-Drone French Chalumeau ... ... 244

Xll LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

}

248

The French Chalumeau

The Musette or French Bagpipe

The Northumbrian Small Pipes . . ... 251

The Great Irish Pipe ... ... ... ... 253

The Piper ... ... ... ... ... 256

The Great Two-Drone War Pipe of the Highlands .. 288

African or Egyptian Bagpipe ... ... ... 356

Old Bill of 1785 ... ... ... ... 360

Bulgarian Pipe ... ... ... ... 368

A Second Spanish Bagpipe ... ... ... 369

Irish Bellows Pipe ... ... ... ... 392

The Old Northumberland Bellows Pipe ... ... 396

The Bellows Pipe of Lowland Scotland ... 400

SOME REMINISCENCES AND
THE BAGPIPE.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

'T^HIS little book is the first serious attempt made
■*■ to put the Story of the Bagpipe upon a proper
footing, to trace its origin from ancient history, and
to examine the claims of Greek and of Latin to its
invention.

The task has been to me a fascinating one, and
although still far from completion, I sigh farewell to
it, with keen regrets.

Some one of more scholarly attainments may one
day — nay, will — I hope utilize my labours as a step-
ping-stone to better things.

I have dallied with the subject for years, for very
love of it ; not caring much whether I ever finished
the book or not.

My Highland instinct discovered the importance
of the task before it was well begun ; kept me at it —
in a fitful manner it is true ! — when its magnitude
dawned upon me and all but dispirited me ; and has

2 SOME REMINISCENCES

guided me in my treatment of it right through the
book.

But if not a complete treatise on the Bagpipe, still
as a small contribution to the subject it should appeal
to the true Highlander, be he situated where you will
amidst the busy haunts of men in some great city, or
on the confines of the mighty empire, in some secluded
spot, the solitary sentinel of civilization.

There are Highlanders, it is true, who have proved
themselves false to the old ideals. Such, when they
become citizens of the world, deem the two citizen-
ships incompatible, and deliberately sink their national
characteristics in the great maelstrom of life, assimilat-
ing themselves to their new surroundings like the
chameleon, and nervously afraid lest something in
dress, manner, speech, or bearing, should betray
them, and make known the truth, that they are not
quite "like unto these."

These are the men who, believing a sacrifice neces-
sary, have sacrificed the past to the present ; have
forbidden Gaelic in the house ; made the name of the
'45 anathema, maranatha ; suppressed all references
to the brave deeds of their forefathers ; and tabooed
"the tales of old."

These are the Highlanders who have, in short,
turned their backs for ever on the old life, with the
pinch and the toil in it, the little pleasures, and
the poor monetary rewards ; who have preferred for
themselves and for their children the stuffy atmo-
sphere of a dingy, ill-ventilated office in some
crowded city to the sweet airs, with healing on

AND THE BAGPIPE. 3

their wings and fresh from heaven's hand, which blew
round the old homestead ; and who see more beauty
in the piles of yellow gold upon the dusty counter,
gathered often so wearily and at such a price, than in
the glorious purple mountains, girdled by the sea.

There are others who go further than this, and
scoff at the land which gave them birth.

Some little time ago I was dining along with
a number of other Highlanders in the Grand
Hotel, Glasgow. The man on my left roused my
curiosity. He seemed out of place in such a
gathering although he wore the kilt. I noticed
that the kilt was of — we will call it — MacWhamle
tartan. He was a tall, stout, rather handsome-
looking fellow, with refined — I had almost said over-
refined — manners. His speech was very Englified in
tone, with here and there a dash of the Cockney in
it, and he dropped, or tried to drop, I verily believe,
his h's occasionally, but not with much success.
There was not>^the slightest flavour of peat-reek about
him anywhere. Who are you, and what are you
doing here? Why are you making yourself uncom-
fortable in a kilt? — were some of the questions which
I put to myself, but without evoking a reply ; for I
could see that he fidgetted about in the strange
dress a good deal during dinner. At the interval
between the second and third courses I was intro-
duced to the stranger as Mr MacWhamle from
London.

MacWhamle then was his name, and MacWhamle
was his tartan.

4 SOME REMINISCENCES

**You are from London," I said.

He bowed largely.

'*But I suppose," I said, looking at his dress,
'*you came from the Highlands first?"

"I left the Highlands when I was but a boy," he
replied.

"Do you visit the old home occasionally?"

** Never been there since I left."

"I am glad at all events," I remarked, ''to see
you still wear the kilt."

"Yes," he answered ; but, turning to me as if for

sympathy, added quickly, "a d d uncomfortable

dress though ! "

And I could see that he spoke feelingly. A kilt
never sits well on a *' corporation " ; and his kilt kept
creeping higher and higher, and growing tighter and
tighter, in a way that a kilt alone can do, as dinner
proceeded, until goaded to desperation, he stood up
and unfastened the waist straps and took the chance
of a catastrophe.

One other remark I ventured on to Mr MacWhamle:
" Do you like the Bagpipe?"

" Yaas ! oh yaas ! at a distance" — pause on the
word distance — "and the greater the distance the
better y

This was cheery for a Highland Gathering,
wasn't it? It made me feel as if there were some-
thing wrong, something out of joint : the High-
land Gathering had no right to be there, or friend
MacWhamle had got, so to speak, into the wrong
shop.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 5

In the King's Arms Hotel, Kyle Akin, I met
another Mr MacWhamle in the following autumn.

He amused himself at dinner-time by running
down the Highlands, or perhaps I should say, the
Highlander, with a self-assurance in his own wisdom,
and with an air of infallibility, that ought to have
made — but didn't — any doubter of this " Daniel come
to judgment " blush for shame at his own temerity.

He had one doubter in my daughter, who sat on
pins and needles, while this slanderer of the people
she loved, rambled along in his pompous way. It
was only by constant pressure of the foot under the
table that I could restrain her impetuosity. She was
boiling over with indignation at each fresh insult, and
yet this Solomon blundered along, quite unconscious
of how near he was to a living volcano.

And so it came about, that when he appealed to her
for confirmation of some heresy, worse than another,
not knowing that she was a Skye lassie, — born on the
island — he got a look from her that would have
annihilated a less sensitive person, and a con-
tradiction along with it as flat as words could
make it.

He appeared highly astonished at being pulled up
so sharply, and more than a little indignant that any
one should venture to question the wisdom, not to say
the truthfulness, of his remarks, and dare to tell him
plainly that all his fine talk was little better than so
much ignorant twaddle. A little colour mounted to
his brow, — a small sign of grace I took it to be— as he
realized that he had been snubbed, and that he had

b SOME REMINISCENCES

himself invited the snub ; and for a time the smooth
flow of his words became broken — his speech halted
and limped along painfully.

After a time, however, he seemed to recover his
equanimity, and "went" for the poor Skyeman as
viciously as before. He would ''clear every mother's
son of them out of the island." He would make Skye
a desert, except — oh ! notable exception — for three
months in the summer. " To suit the convenience of
tourists like yourself?" I put in. He paid no heed to
my interruption, but rattled on, heaping abuse upon
the islanders. Idle, lazy, ill-fed, ill-clad, content.
Oh, the scorn in this rich man's voice as he said
content !

That these people whom he affected to despise,
because they preferred the fresh air and the quiet,
and the contentment of the country, to the smoky
atmosphere, and the noisy streets, and the seething
discontent of the town — a people in whose life his
unseeing eye could detect no colour but a dull grey ;
uniform, constant, unvarying — should dare to be
content, pained the good man exceedingly.

" Contentment is better than riches," I ventured to
remark ; but again he took no notice : he turned a deaf
ear to me, and refused to be drawn into a discussion.

He had but one rule, by which he measured every-
thing, the rule of the almighty dollar ; the rule of the
golden thumb. "Why," he said, "I had a man
rowing me on the loch all day, and he was content
with the two shillings which I paid him. If that man
went south, sir, he could make thirty shillings a week

AND THE BAGPIPE. 7

in the mills, and here he is content to take two
shillings for a day's work."

The table listened in silence to the well-fed, well-
dressed, sleek-looking man as he preached his money
gospel.

I did not ask Mr MacWhamle, as perhaps I should
have done, why he, a rich mill owner, had refused
a millhand's wage to the old Highlander who rowed
him about the loch so patiently all day.

Such are not true Highlanders, and it is not for
such that this book is written. The true Highlander,
methinks, is one who forgets not the good blood
which flows through his veins in spite it may be of a
lowly upbringing ; who forgets not to visit the
friends of his boyhood's days, because they have
preferred the old and simpler life ; who forgets not
that his ancestors followed Prince Charlie, not
blindly, but with eyes wide open and with ultimate
failure staring them in the face, preferring a lost cause
with honour to success without it. The true High-
lander is one, methinks, for whom not distance from
home, nor length of years, can destroy the constant
yearning for the old life among the hills ; whose ear
detects and loves the soft sweetness of the old tongue ;
whose heart warms at the sight of the tartan ; and
who knows no music, with the story in it, and the
charm in it, like the rude wild Pibroch.

And of all Highland things, what is more Highland
and what more worthy of being preserved than the
Bagpipe?

It grows handsomer as it grows older, and it is as

8 SOME REMINISCENCES

useful to-day as when it led the Roman legions of
old. It is as Highland in the streets of London, or
in the suburbs of Melbourne, as in the wilds of
Stratheric, or in the backwoods of Canada ; and will
be with us when the tartan is faded and the Gaelic
tongue is silent, a signpost to an unbelieving world,
reminding it that there once lived north of the Gram-
pians an old and a gallant race— a race of warriors as
brave as the world has ever seen.

German Band of 1739 :

With Piper in tlie Foreground.

From an old Engraving presented to the Author bv Mr VV. K. Gair,

The Kihis, Falkirk.

CHAPTER II.

INTRODUCTORY.

T HAVE no wish to pose as an authority on
the Bagpipe, nor is this book meant to be
authoritative in any way.

It is but a beginning ; a groping for the light in
dark places. If I correct some very palpable errors,
which through constant repetition have gained
currency among a certain section of the public, I
also lay myself open to correction, and will welcome
such. I have avoided conjecture as much as possible,
but it is impossible to avoid it altogether when writing
of a subject whose history reaches back to the remote
and misty past — to " an axe age, a spear age, a wolf
age, a war age."

I have lectured on this subject for many years, but
always as a student ; always with the hope of
improving my own knowledge.

And to-day, in the light of such knowledge as I
have been able to pick up, I proclaim myself to be
one of the '* unwary," as Mr MacBain of Inverness
calls them, "who postulate for the Bagpipe a hoary
antiquity " in the Highlands and elsewhere.

lO SOME REMINISCENCES

This book is the result of accident rather than of
design.

When President of the Falkirk Highland Society,
I was one night impressing upon the members the
necessity of each doing something for the Society and
not leaving the burden of the work on two or three
shoulders, as had been done in the past, if it were to
be a permanent success. Among other subjects
suitable for short papers I named the Bagpipe, and
at the mention of the word an audible smile rippled
along the benches. I was somewhat annoyed at this,
and although I did not myself know anything of its
history at the time, I promptly accepted the challenge
to write a paper on it. This was the beginning of
my book.

One month later I gave my first lecture on the
Bagpipe to a crowded house, the largest gathering
ever held under the auspices of the Society, and one
of the most successful.

The great enthusiasm displayed during the evening
by the Highlanders present was the highest com-
pliment which could be paid to the choice of a subject
which, as I have said, was in a manner forced upon
me, and also shewed that the dear old " Pipes "
could still delight and enthuse as in days of old.
Pipe-Major Bulloch and Pipe-Major Simpson gave
selections on the Bagpipe illustrative of the lecture ;
both shewed themselves masters of the instrument,
and their delightful playing added largely to the
success of this, the first lecture, I believe, ever
delivered on the Bagpipe.

AND THE BAGPIPE. II

During the month of preparation not a saleroom
or bric-a-brac shop in Glasgow or Edinburgh but
was visited in search of old " Pipes," and the joy-
in each new find still remains for me a sunny
memory.

I need hardly remind my readers that it was in
Falkirk that the revival of the Bagpipe took place
after its suppression by the Government in 1747 :
here was held the first competition promoted by the
Highland Society of London in 1779 ; and here too it
seems only fitting that the first lecture on the
Bagpipe, one hundred and odd years later, should
have been delivered.

For this reason, too, if any '' kudos " should
happen to follow upon this venture, I would like the
good old town of Falkirk to share in it.

My book has been thought out while walking
through its streets, or cycling in the country round
about, or wandering over its old battlefields, or seated
in the cosy corner waiting upon some case or other
while the rest of the world slumbered.

A chapter has been written, now here, on a plain
deal table, almost the only piece of furniture in a
one-roomed house ; now there, on a table of beautiful
ormolu design, one of half-a-dozen decorating the
drawing-room of some wealthy citizen ; and in this
way the book has become " part and parcel" of my
every-day life and work in Falkirk during the past
few years.

I am therefore having it published in Falkirk, and
printed by a Falkirk "Bairn," so that everything

12 SOME REMINISCENCES

about it may be redolent of the town which has been
for so many years my abiding place.

I know that my quaHfications for the task of writing
a History of the Bagpipe are few, and it was therefore
rather tantalizing some years ago to have the one
qualification, my Celtic blood, on which I prided
myself the most, ruthlessly trampled upon by Dr
MacPherson, now one of His Majesty's Commis-
sioners in Lunacy. The Doctor lectured one evening
to the Falkirk Highlanders on "The Celt in History,"
and his conclusion of the whole matter, which was
received in grim silence by his hearers, each of whom
had hitherto considered himself as The Celt — I had
almost said the salt — of the earth, was that there is
no such thing as 3. pure Celt in the Highlands to-day.

My Celtic qualification was thus discredited.
" But," added the lecturer, and the fine words that
night did not butter the parsnips for his audience,
" you who have been born in the Highlands, and are
of Highland parentage, can call yourselves instead,
and with greater truth, pure Highlanders."

There was a searching of hearts and of genealogies
after the meeting broke up, and I felt some con-
solation in dropping the Celt to know that I could
lay claim to the title of Highlander with some credit.
I was born in Argyleshire ; my father was a Fraser,
which goes without saying ! My mother was a
MacLachlan, my grandmother a Gunn ; my cousins
in order of merit were Frasers, Macintoshes, Grants,
Shaws, MacLachlans, and MacNicols.

My father was born in the Parish of Avoch, in the

AND THE BAGPIPE. I3

Black Isle, opposite to Inverness, in the beginning
of last century, at a time when the name of the
" bloody " Cumberland was used as a bogey to
frighten the children with.

He learned the story of the '45 at first hand from
his grandfather, who was out in the " Rebellion,"
and many a time and oft his heart burned with
indignation at the recital of the many cruelties
perpetrated by "The Butcher's" orders.

The story of the murder of Charles Fraser, jun., of
Inverallochy, in cold blood after the battle of Culloden
was often repeated in his hearing. He was a distant
kinsman of ours, and the horror of the tale would
lose nothing through this to the listening boy. The
tale, which is a true one, and which was recorded at
the time by more observers of the incident than one,
will bear repetition here.

The Duke, while riding over the battle-field after
the short but sharp tussle was over, saw a young
Highland officer lying wounded on the ground. He
was resting on his elbow, and looked up at the Duke
as he was riding by. " To what party do you
belong? " said the ' Butcher.' The answer came back
proudly, '* To the Prince." "Shoot me that High-
land scoundrel who thus dares to look on us with
so insolent a stare," shouted Cumberland. This
command was addressed to Wolfe, then an ensign,
the General who afterwards died so gloriously on the
Heights of Abraham. He refused to obey, as did
the other officers one by one, and placed their
commissions at His Grace's disposal, rather than

14 SOME REMINISCENCES

carry out so degrading an order. His Royal
Highness, who, it was said, never forgave the brave
Wolfe for this, commanded one of the common
soldiers to shoot this lad, not yet turned twenty
years of age, and the cowardly deed was at length
done.

Is it to be wondered at that the nicknames of " The
Bloody Duke " and *' The Butcher " were given to
him by the old Highlanders and are still recalled
by us their children?

This story, along with others of the same kind,
made so strong an impression on my father that he
found it impossible to take up arms after the manner
of his forefathers, more especially in defence of a
Government which he believed encouraged such
cruelties. He accordingly turned his attention to
ways of peace, and became a trader.

He soon owned a fleet of small sloops, with which
he traded among the Western Islands, but ultimately,
tempted by the beauty of the country, settled in
business at Lochgilphead. Here he lived the best part
of his life ; was elected and re-elected more than once
chief magistrate ; and here he died and was buried at
the ripe age of eighty-one. He was a good Gaelic
scholar, and was said to be a very eloquent speaker
both in Gaelic and in English.

He was successful in business, and made a fortune,
as fortunes went in the days before the advent of the
millionaire.

He was a very muscular man, with never an ounce
of fat about him ; he stood 5 ft. 11 -)^ ins. in his

AND THE BAGPIPE. I5

Stockings, and girthed round the bare chest some 48
inches.

He was of great strength, but seldom if ever used
it ; peace with honour was his motto ; and when
called in to settle a quarrel he always tried peaceful
methods first.

For two years or so, after the bursting of the Crinan
Canal, an event which I shall never forget, nor the
fearful night of wind and rain which preceded the
disastrous flood, an army of several hundred navvies
was engaged in mending it.

When pay day came round, the village of Loch-
gilphead, in which the pay office was situated, became
a veritable battlefield ; a succession of fights, in which
we boys took an unholy delight, went on from morn
to night. Old Dugald, the policeman, wisely shut
himself into his house on these occasions, and there
was none to say the fighters nay.

One pay Saturday a little Highlander was getting
the worst of it in a boxing-match with a big Irish
navvy. Our sympathies were with the little High-
lander, who, although he took his punishment like a
man, was getting fairly mauled, and I remember well
how I shivered with terror each time he went down
before the powerful blows of his antagonist. The
crowd, feeling quite sure that there would be murder
before the fight was over, asked me to run for my
father.

He came at once, not even waiting to put his hat
on, and taking in the situation at a glance, he
suddenly seized the Highlander from behind with one

l6 SOME REMINISCENCES

hand and carried him off the field, the small man
struggling in the air the while like a little child ;
shoved him into a house near at hand, and shut out
the Irishman, whom he faced up to and was
prepared to tackle, but who, I must say, for reasons
best known to himself, did not make any very serious
objections to the Chief Magistrate's original method
of stopping an unfair fight. This was done without
any seeming exertion on my father's part. Twice,
however, I did see him exert himself, and the two
feats of strength — both also shewing great bravery —
were the talk of the town for many a long day after.

Once a mad Highland bullock — mad because it had
been struck badly by an incapable butcher at the
killing stone in Menzies' yard — broke away and
charged wildly at a group of people, including my
brother and myself, who were looking on. The men
and all who could run away bolted from the infuriated
animal, but my brother and I, holding each other's
hands tightly, stood rooted to the spot in terror.

As the huge beast charged down upon us my father
appeared on the scene, and, quick as thought, threw
himself in the way of the angry bullock, drawing its
attention away from us to himself. The ruse was
successful, and after a moment's indecision the
enraged animal, with the red foam flying from mouth
and nostrils, and madness in its eye, charged away
from us to the spot where father stood expectant. By
a quick movement, more like legerdemain than
anything else, he stepped to one side on its approach,
thus avoiding the charging horns, which in the

AND THE BAGPIPE. If

twinkling of an eye he seized from behind, and
standing close up to the neck of the animal, and
planting his foot firmly against a projecting stone
in the yard, which was known as the small killing
stone, he held the struggling brute as in a vice until
the frightened men returned with new ropes and
secured it once more, when he himself, by request,
and to avoid any further mistake, gave it the death-
dealing blow, and all was over.

On another occasion, the partition wall between two
houses in a large three-storied building was being
removed from the basement floor. The methods then
in vogue were very primitive, and incurred much
more danger to the masons engaged in the operation
than in these days. The great wooden beam, which
was already fixed into a niche in the wall by one end,
and which was to take the place of the removed wall,
was being supported on the backs of a dozen or more
strong men, ready to be slipped into its place the
moment the centre prop, which was really a piece of
the wall itself, was knocked away.

But the moment this last support was removed, the
wall was heard and seen to crack in an ugly manner,
and it was evident that the partition was coming down
before the beam could be got into place. The
unusual operation had drawn a great crowd of
villagers to the spot, and these began to clear out in
a hurry when it was believed that the house was
falling about their ears ; but my father, who was also
looking on, shouting encouragement to those above,
swarmed up on to the platform beside the men whose

^l8 SOME REMINISCENCES

lives were now in serious danger, and, putting his
back under the end of the beam, he cried out cheerily,
** Now, men, heave ! ho ! " — and all putting forth their
best strength, the great beam slowly rose against the
descending wall, and was shoved into place, but not a
moment too soon.

A sigh of relief, which was almost a sob, rose from
the crowd below when it saw that the danger was
past, and the tension of feeling found vent in a
spontaneous outburst of cheering, renewed again and
again. My father, his assistance no longer required,
stepped down from the platform and went quietly
home to breakfast, himself the only one of the crowd
who saw nothing heroic in a deed which won for
him, on that still summer's morning, the hearts of
the people.

His quiet courage and his manliness on all
occasions made us feel that he was a grand soldier
lost to his country, and that the sword, not the ell
wand, would have best graced his side.

My grandfather was a soldier, and served for many
years with the first regiment of the Sutherland
Highlanders. His father and grandfather before him
were soldiers ; and soldiers my people were as far
back as tradition goes. And before that ? Well ! as
the Book of Books says, " In those days Noah made
unto himself an ark of Gopher wood."

I should like here to pay a passing tribute to the
memory of an old aunt who lived with us for the
best part of her life, not because I loved her, but on
account of the great love which she bore to the

AND THE BAGPIPE. I9

Highlands. She was my father's sister, and each was
the antithesis of the other. They may have been one
at heart, but father was not the sort of man who wears
his affections on his sleeve, and if he had any
predilections for the old life, he was remarkably
successful in concealing them from us. Aunt, on the
other hand, was wholly and frankly Highland.
Inverness was the county of counties ; and its people
were the brave ones, the true and loyal and hospitable
ones. There you would always find the open hand
and the open heart ; the spirit of hospitality was as
rampant in the poorest crofter's hut as in the chiefs
castle. When a visitor arrived — a stranger it might
be, and utterly unexpected — the fatted calf, or the
fatted kid, or the fatted hen, was killed in his honour,
and not unfrequently the family starved that he should
have plenty. The best chair in the cosy corner was
his during the day, and when he retired at night it
was to the "best" bed covered with the finest linen.

For gentle and simple, it was the land of unfailing
welcome, the land of " the open door." Aunt always
maintained that the door was never locked in her old
home ; seldom even did it stand on the sneck ; but,
open all day long, it smiled a kindly welcome upon
every passer-by.

And, I remember well, that she carried out this
welcome of "the open door" to a certain extent at
least in the old home at Lochgilphead, where the
kitchen door, with my father's consent, was never
locked; and in the winter months she always saw to
it that a good fire was left banked up, so that no

20 SOME REMINISCENCES

poor waif or stray passing by should want for warmth
or shelter when the weather was inclement. Father,
however, always took good care to see that the door
between the kitchen and the house was fastened : his
trust in the stranger was not so implicit and child-like.

My aunt was a capital teller of stories, of which she
had a great store, and nothing was more delightful
than to sit round the fire at night and in its cheery red
glow listen to her ever-fresh tales. Her tales of
wolves were many and weird, and were founded on
stories handed down from the days when wolves
infested the Highlands : of v\^olves driven desperate
by hunger in the hard winter months, coming down
from their dens in the mountains, and attacking men
in the open : of wolves making a sudden dash in at
the door, in the dusk of the evening, and carrying off
the sleeping child before its mother's eyes : of wolves —
and how creepy this used to make us feel — climbing
on to the roofs at night and eating their silent way
through the soft thatch while the unsuspecting house-
hold slumbered.

Or, again, she would tell of the perils of the chase :
of the wild boar at bay turning upon the hunter and
gashing his body with its terrible tusks ; or of the
deer-stalker, in the excitement of the chase, missing
his foothold and slipping over the edge of the
treacherous precipice, and falling " down, down,
down," into empty black space. The grey hag of
the single tooth and grisly paw, was a favourite
story of hers ; and many of her tales of fairies and
Avitches were worthy to rank beside Hans Andersen's

AND THE BAGPIPE. 21

best. In talking of the dead, which she always did
with reverence, she had an eerie trick of looking
over her shoulder, as if the spirits of the departed
hovered near. At such times I often fancied that
a breath of ice-cold wind — cold as the grave from
which it came — swept down my back : an eerie
sensation to have. But in one way or another, when
in the humour, she used to thrill us with a delightful
sense of fear and terror, so that we could not go to
bed alone. Aunt was also great in folk-lore, and
believed firmly in the potency of healing crystals,
and other Highland charms. She dabbled in medi-
cine continually, and her advice was valued, and
much sought after by the sick poor.

All the old medicinal herbs were known to her by
their Gaelic names, with their several virtues ; and
from these she occasionally made most horrible de-
coctions, which, however, I must admit, she mostly
drank herself, when B — 's pills, her favourite remedy,
failed to rise to the occasion, and through this, or in
spite of this — it will always be a debatable point ! —
she lived to be well over the allotted span of three-
score years and ten.

But aunt's strong point was genealogy. She could
trace the history of every family of distinction in the
North, including our own, from its remotest branches
back to the fountain head.

I remember once coming home from school some-
what crestfallen and depressed, because some of the
boys had shouted after me in chorus '■^ Frishelach
Fraser, Fresh Herring ! Frisheladi Fraser, Fresh

22 SOME REMINISCENCES

Herring ! " to which I could but feebly reply, " Better
fresh herring ( Scattan Ur) than rotten herring "
( Scattan gorst ). Now, my knowledge of Gaelic at
that time was so poor that I believed the word
Frishelach, which really means Fraser, meant fresh
herring. But when I told my aunt of my troubles, she
explained the word to me, and said "You shouldn't
listen to what these ill-bred boys say; it is just because
you are a Frishelach that they are jealous of you ; you
have got better blood in your veins than any of them."
Whether the boys who shouted after me understood
the words used by them any better than I did is uncer-
tain, but this I know, that they tapped the nose of a
Frishelach with the same unconcern as they tapped the
nose of a common Smith, and saw no difference in the
"claret " drawn. This trifling incident gave aunt an
opportunity when evening came on, to lecture to us on
the genealogy of our branch of the Fraser family, which
lecture was interrupted at the most interesting point by
the advent of father, who, I believe must have been
listening at the door for some time, and said: — the
while looking very sternly at aunt, — " How often have
I told you to give up stuffing the children's heads
with all that nonsense : much your fine relations will
do for you. As for you," turning to us, "I'll have
you holding on to no one's coat-tails, remember that.
You have got your own way to make in the world, so
off to bed with you and forget your aunt's stories."
Aunt, however, stuck to her grand relations, in spite
of my father's ridicule ; and although damped down
for a time by one of his attacks, she was sure sooner

AND THE BAGPIPE. 23

or later to break out again on the forbidden subject,
which was not altogether good for us. She always
maintained, and we were sharp enough to notice that
father never actually denied the truthfulness of her
statement, that we were descended from one of
the most distinguished branches of the family, and
that but for the loss of some papers, which had
mysteriously disappeared, we should have been landed
proprietors in the North to-day, and the stigma of
trade, as she called it, would never have fallen upon
us. She never indeed forgave my father for becoming
a tradesman, and, I am sorry to say, made us at times
ashamed of his calling. A " parvenu " she could not
stand, and the small "gentry," of one or two genera-
tions only, she sniffed at. When one of these latter
put some real or fancied slight upon her, she would
come home furious. "This is what I have to stand
from these people whose grandfathers were nobodies,
because I am your father's sister."

It was on these occasions that, taking out her
geneological tree, she would climb to the topmost
branches, and, perching us around her, she would,
from this coign of vantage, pour out the viols of her
wrath upon the head of the unsuspecting offender
below. But if father appeared by any chance
on such occasions, which he had a trick of doing,
aunt climbed down the tree much more quickly
than she had climbed up. She certainly stood in
awe of the head of the house — but she was not peculiar
in this. Once, however, when death, for the first time,
visited our hitherto unbroken circle, she asserted

24 SOME REMINISCENCES

herself in strangest fashion, much to our astonishment,
and forcibly seizing hold of the reins of government,
she ordered the household about — including father and
mother — in regal fashion. She would have her mother
buried in the old Highland way ; and would herself
arrange everything : she dared interference. All the
invitations — and they were very numerous — were
issued by her. To the principal relations, she wrote
herself, in a cramped hand, and with many a painful
effort : the ordinary invitation was printed. Whether
any of our "fine" relations came to the funeral I do
not know : if they did, so far as I can remember, we
small boys were overlooked by them in the bustle and
excitement of the day.

Now, my father was an abstainer all his life, and no
strong drink of any kind was allowed in the house;
but on this occasion, aunt brushing aside his scruples
with slightly veiled contempt, ordered in quantities of
wine and whisky, to which he made no demur. Huge
kebbocks of cheese also, and delicacies of all sorts were
provided for the coming guests, and the maids were
busy night and day baking cakes and scones ; while
the country side was scoured for hens with which to
make a dish, much in demand on state occasions, a
kind of Highland soup, — the most delicious dish in
the world — a single whiff of which would have made
hungry Esau sell his birthright ten times over.

The body of the little lady upstairs, who was in her
79th year when she died, and was only 4 ft. 11 J inches
in height, lay in state for ten days. This was to allow
the friends from far off Inverness and Ross-shire to

AND THE BAGPIPE. 25

get to the funeral ; and as some of the arrivals were
earlier than others, the house became, during the last
few days of waiting, like a hotel ; and with each new
arrival aunt's importance grew.

In this way, for several days before the funeral,
feasting, such as we had never seen before, and
mourning, which we did not quite comprehend,
walked the house arm in arm from morn till nigfht.

It is somewhat amusing to look back on the old
life of fifty years ago. Everything was so different
then from now. On the Greenock and Glasgow line
I have travelled on an open truck to and from college.
Habits of thrift were inculcated, ;w^eek in week out, with
a wearisome monotony, and, worse still, were put
into practice, with the result that we seldom or ever
had pocket money given us. A single toy or book
would last the year, and holidays, which were looked
upon by our parents as a nuisance, were spent at
home. Children were taught to respect their elders
more, which was a good thing, and the fear of the
parent was greater than the "fear of the Lord,"
which was not perhaps so good.

While my father was plain Donald Eraser to the
public — a big, burly, smiling, good-natured man — he
was the Grand Seigneur in his own house, whose
slightest word was law. We always addressed him
hat in hand, and prefaced all requests with "Sir."
He kept up a dignity and a state before us that never
slacked, although for politic reasons these were laid
aside during business hours. His bedroom was a terra
incognita to the last. We were never allowed to take

26 SOME REMINISCENCES

our meals with him ; he always dined alone, while we
passed the time outside, — on the landing opposite the
dining-room — with marbles, teetotum, and such like
games, until the command to enter the sacred presence
was given, when we invariably marched in according
to seniority. The pleasure of the game outside, how-
ever, more than compensated for the cold meal inside.
The drawing-room was always kept locked, and
opened only when guests of quality arrived. When,
by special invitation, we did enter its sacred precincts —
which was but seldom — it was with bated breath and
whispered humbleness. Now, being a professing
Christian, my father had some difficulty in squaring
this exclusiveness with the lesson in the Book which
teaches us that "All men are equal in the sight of God."
And so he tried to get out of the difficulty in this way.
Every Sunday morning we were allowed to breakfast
along with him : but in order to keep our pride within
bounds, which otherwise might o'erleap itself at such
graciousness, he had the maid-servants in to table
also : this latter being a survival possibly of some old
and kindly custom.

This he did regularly, year in year out, and so
eased his conscience, and at the same time squared
his dignity with his religion ; but the equality
disappeared with the meal until the next Sunday
morning, and if in the interval any of us dared to
presume upon it, woe betide him.

He had some curious methods of dealing with
children. One, I can never forget. He always
insisted on our going to bed in the dark. This was

Chanter and Drone Reeds

FROM THE

Bagpipes of Different Nations.

*.,/

Highland Pipe Reeds :
Shewing their Constriction.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 2/

to harden us, he said, and to strengthen our nerves.
It nearly broke mine altogether. For a child of five or
six years old to go up two long stairs in the dark all
alone, and along a narrow dark passage to the sleeping
room, which was situated at the furthest end of the
lobby from the stairs, especially after some wild beast
story with the blood-curdling details in which she
revelled had been told by aunt, was a mighty severe
strain on that child's nerves. My mode of progression
along the passage in question, off which several doors
opened, was as follows : — I knew or believed that the
unseen danger was greatest when passing one or other
of the open doors. I also felt that I was within the
danger zone when I reached the top of the last stair,
and kept a sharp lookout, as I tried to pierce the
gloom for what it contained. I then opened the
nightly campaign with a sudden dash for the
opposite wall, in which were the doors, and putting
my back to it, and clinging to it with all my
might, I began to sidle along cautiously to the
first door. Instinct, I suppose, taught me that with
my back to the wall I could only be attacked from
the front, and should be able to make a better fight
with my unseen foe. But when crossing the open
doors I was exposed to attack from all sides, and it
was always in one dark room or another I imagined
the hidden monster — the creature of my own imagina-
tion, it is true, but all too real notwithstanding —
lay in wait. I swear even now, that I often heard in
the black darkness of these rooms, the cruel crunching
jaws at work, and often saw the baneful light of

28 SOME REMINISCENCES

the fierce green eyes, as the brute crouched low,
making ready for the spring. And so for moments,
which seemed hours, I stood close to the first door,
listening and shivering with terror. Then would I,
in desperation, make one wild spring past it : when
again working cautiously up to the next door, there
was the same hesitation before crossing it, the
same straining of ears, the same holding of the breath.
And now, between two doors, I had to watch on
both sides, and my fears thus grew as I neared the goal;
the chances of an attack I calculated increased with
each door safely passed, until the strain on my nerves
became all but intolerable, and reason itself tottered
on its throne. Sometimes in my anxiety to get into
the nursery when reached, I missed the door handle
in the dark ; and oh ! the dread of those miserable
moments, when open to attack from behind, and
not daring to look back, I fumbled and fumbled with
nerveless fingers, feeling the while the hot breath of
the evil thing on my neck! The dread of those trying
moments visits me still in my dreams.

I well remember the night of the day on which
grandmother died, although I was too young to know
what death meant. My brothers and I were sitting
up much later than usual, there being no one
seemingly to order us off to bed ; but the liberty thus
secured, and which was at first delightful, soon palled
upon us, and I was the first to set off upstairs upon
that nightly lonesome journey. I had just reached
the first landing, when I noticed a light coming from
under the drawing-room door. This was in itself

AND THE BAGPIPE. 29

such an unusual thing that my curiosity was aroused.
Surely some guests had arrived, and we knew it
not ! I crept forward on tiptoe and listened for
voices ; there were none. The stillness of the house
was oppressive. The fresh odour of pine wood
assailed my nostrils.

As the door stood slightly ajar, after again listening,
I gently pushed it open and looked in. The sight
which I saw fairly took away my breath. The room
was a blaze of glorious light ; but where were the
guests? I noticed that both windows, with blinds
drawn up, were open, as well as the door. From two
paintings on the wall, father and mother looked
down upon the gay scene in silence, smiling. Nobody
else was there, not even aunt. In the centre of the
room was a large table which I had never seen before,
dressed in spotless white, and covered with flowers,
and upon it a long black box surrounded by numerous
tall white wax candles, all burning, and flooding the
room with a brillant glow. Little puffs of wind
coming in at the open windows, made the lights flicker
and toss their heads: and with every movement, the
tall shapely candles threw long, black, dancing
shadows upon floor and wall. Immediately overhead
was a large and very handsome crystal chandelier,
which flashed back, reflected in a thousand hues, the
light below. The old-fashioned wall paper of glisten-
ing pearly white, covered with a thick dark crimson
fluff, and the black "papier mache" furniture, each
piece inlaid with irridescent mother-of-pearl, formed
fitting surroundings to the crowning glory of the

30 SOME REMINISCENCES

white flower-laden table in the middle of the room,
with its black burden. What could it all mean? It
was to my childish mind like a beautiful bit out of
Fairyland.

I knew well that I had no right to be where I was :
I knew well what the consequences would be were I
discovered ; but the strange sight fascinated me : it
held me spellbound. What was in that black box?
Why was it there? Unsatiable childish curiosity
prompting me, I drew a chair — one of the chairs for-
bidden us even to sit upon — close to the table, and
stepped lightly up on to it, and, looking down into the
box, who should I see lying there quietly sleeping but
** little grandmother." She was dressed all in white:
her little face looked no bigger than a child's. She
smiled in her sleep, and all the wrinkles, which I had
often tried to count, but in vain, were gone. Between
her little hands, which were clasped in front, a little
flower was pressed : on her breast was a saucer full of
salt, and lower down another of the red-brown earth.
The mystery was solved. Here lay the honoured
guest of the drawing-room, and all the lighted candles,
and beautiful flowers, and sweet fresh airs from
outside, were for 'little grandmother' : and she must
have fallen asleep in the midst of all this grandeur,
like a tired child in the midst of its toys. And at the
thought I could have clapped my hands and cried
aloud for joy, but I might waken "little grandmother,"
so, slipping softly off the precious chair, which I care-
fully replaced, I crept quietly out of the room, leaving
the door ajar as I found it. For m,e that night the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 3I

lonely journey to bed had no fears : the light of the
tall wax candles dispelled the gloom ; the peace and
calm of the sleeper down stairs filled my heart,
leaving there no room for terrors : no fierce eyes
glared at me out of the doorways : no hot breath
lapped my cheek that night ; and if they had, what
did it matter so long as "little grandmother," whom
we all loved, was honoured and happy.

I do not know that I yet understand all that aunt
meant by these arrangements. The open window
and open door, the lighted candles, the saucer of salt,
every Highlander understands. But what of the dish
of red brown earth?

The funeral, when it came off, was, I need hardly
say, under aunt's skilful management, a Highland
success. This is not the correct expression to use of
a funeral, I know, but it is a true one ; for more than
one old Highlander that day, whose napless hat and
threadbare clothes proclaimed him an experienced
judge in such matters, was heard to say that " It was
a ferry finefuneral whateffer."

CHAPTER III.

INTRODUCTORY.

' As life wanes, all its cares and strife and toil
Seem strangely valueless, while the old trees
Which grew by our youth's home, the waving mass
Of climbing plants heavy with bloom and dew,
The morning swallows with their songs like words,
All these seem clear, and only worth our thoughts.
So, aught connected with my early life,
My rude songs or my wild imaginings,
How I look on them — most distinct amid
The fever and the stir of after years ! i—

Robert Browning in Pauline.

Tk^Y earliest recollections are of War and the
"*■ "^ Bagpipe. I was born a few years before the
outbreak of the Crimean War.

During that great war there was but one subject
of discussion in the village among our elders — the
war itself — and but one ambition among the boys
at school — the ambition to be a soldier. Mimic
warfare occupied all our spare time. In winter vve
built our forts of snow, and in summer of stone,
and these we defended often at no smali^ risk, with
a certain degree of skill, I believe, and certainly
with an overflowing zeal and energy and determina-

The Gheeyita of Spain : a One-Drone Bagpipe.

The gift ot the late Mr Henry Aitken, of Falkirk.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 33

tion, which in real warfare should go far towards
securing" victory.

One half of the village was dubbed " Cossackees,"
and many a battle royal — often with road metal for
want of better — took place after school hours, between
it and the other half of the village, which was called
'' Portuguese," for what reason, unless it were a mere
childish rh3'thmic one, I know not. Saturday after-
noons were devoted to the game of war by the two
rivals. Wounds got in such fights were looked upon
as honourable, and we prided ourselves upon them,
and shewed a fine indifference to all bruises and cut
heads. Among the bigger boys duels by challenge
were quite common, and as there was a spice of
danger in them, they often aroused tremendous
enthusiasm among the privileged spectators, who of
course took " sides."

These duels, fashioned on traditional lines, were
carried through with every punctilio : seconds were
gravely appointed, time and place of meeting fixed,
and weapons chosen — generally broadsword or bow-
and-arrow. The broadsword, I need hardly explain,
v/as a supple ash plant, and the bow was a
primitive weapon, of rude home-make, but could
throw an arrow straight and true twenty-five to
thirtv yards.

My eldest brother was shot in the eye one day in
one of these duels with the bow, and the tin barb with
which the arrow was tipped got fixed in the bones
at the inner angle of the eye, and had to be extracted
by the village doctor, to whose house we took him.

34 SOME REMINISCENCES

He was the hero of the township for many a long-
day after.

On another occasion cousin Mcintosh got blown
up by a mine, which exploded unexpectedly during
some siege operations.

The attack on the " Redan," which was defended
by the " Cossackees," had failed. A series of
assaults, extending over a long Saturday afternoon,
left the Russian flag still flying and the garrison
defiant. It was determined as night drew near to
blow up the fortress. With the connivance of the
brave defenders, who even assisted us in the pre-
paratory sapping and mining work, some four pounds
of coarse blasting powder were placed in position
under the south wall of the fort, which looked on
to the river, and a long train from the mine was
successfully laid. When all was ready we lit the
fuse, and besiegers and besieged retired hurriedly to
a place of safety, and watched eagerly for what
was to be the glorious finale to a great day's
fighting.

But something had gone wrong! No explosion took
place. As minute after minute passed, and still there
was no explosion, the excitement grew intense.
Perhaps the powder was damp, or the train had gone
out before reaching the mine. To go forward and
examine was a risky job, as we all knew from
previous experience. Volunteers were called for, and
cousin Mcintosh at once stepped to the front. " I'll
go," he said simply, and he went, there being no
competition.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 35

What happened to him, and how, has been told
in various ways by the different boys present. I
can only recount here what I saw for myself and
remember.

My cousin had just reached the fort, and was
stooping over to examine the mine, when a huge sheet
of flame shot out and enveloped him from head to
foot. The force of the explosion threw him heavily
to the ground, at the same time bringing the
defences about his ears.

His comrades rushed to his assistance, and found
him lying all huddled up — a singed heap — his body
half covered with fallen masonry.

His own mother would not have known him at that
moment. He was unconscious, and at first we
thought him dead, but after a time he began to
moan piteously, which relieved us mightily. The
hair on head and face was gone, and the latter was
begrimed with blood and mud and gunpowder.
His front teeth were blown in, or blown out — they
were never seen again — and his hands and face were
dreadfully scorched.

Tenderly the boys lifted the fallen stones off his
bruised body ; tenderly they wiped the poor bleeding
face with handkerchiefs — not over-clean I am afraid —
dipped in the river which ran at their feet ; tenderly
they carried the brave one home.

The doctor, who had been sent for, was in waiting
when we arrived at the house ; and during the two
hours which he spent picking pebbles and powder out
of my cousin's face and dressing his burns, and

36 SOME REMINISCENCES

patching him up generally, we waited anxiously
outside to hear the verdict, and while we waited we
discussed in low tones, but also with a fearful joy,
the events of the day which had ended in so tragic a
manner, but which were so like real war.

When at last the doctor appeared, and announced
that recovery was more than probable, we all but
mobbed him in our excitement, and a great cheer was
raised, after which we quickly dispersed and hurried
home, feeling more than happy.

For many weary days cousin Mcintosh lay
unconscious — the doctor pronounced him to be
suffering from concussion of the brain ; his eyesight
was for a time despaired of, and his face was scarred
and pitted as if he had had a bad attack of
small-pox.

Many were the anxious inquiries made daily by
the boys during his slow recovery, and many and
touching were the little acts of kindness shown by
them to their wounded comrade, but nothing did
more to help his return to health than nicknaming
him " Sebastopol," in honour of his bravery : a
name which he still bears among his few remaining
friends.

In those now all but forgotten days of wars and
rumours of war the recruiting sergeant, with a gay
cock of ribbons fixed jauntily on his cap, and a
piper or drummer by his side, was a frequent sight.
Morning, noon, and night he perambulated the
district, eloquent on the many advantages of an
army career ; standing treat generously to all young

AND THE BAGPIPE. 37

men likely to take the Queen's shilling ; now ap-
pealing to their love of a red coat, now to their
cupidity, always to their loyalty. Urging them to
respond to their comrades' cry for help from far
Crimea, by joining the troops which were being
hurriedly got together to reinforce the depleted ranks
of that gallant army which was then lying out in
the snow before Sebastopol : nor did the Highlanders
require much urging, as the martial spirit of the
nation was never more fully aroused than it was
during the Crimean War. And when the campaign
was over it was a familiar sight to see the war-worn,
medal - bedecked pensioners sunning themselves
against the gable of Uncle M'Intosh's house: a
sheltered spot and warm, which looked to the south
and away over the sea — the glorious sea which never
loses its charm for those born within sound of its
waves. And here on sunny afternoons, when freed
from school, we boys used to assemble and listen
in wonder to those brave old warriors as they fought
their battles over again, drawing maps on the sand
with the points of their sticks for our better under-
standing. The many courageous deeds of their
comrades were told so simply; the outwitting of the
stolid, lumbering, heavy-coated Russians seemed so
easy, as we listened open-mouthed to their tales,
that we silently wondered how the enemy withstood,
even for a single day, the assault of those brave
men who knew the art of war so well.

A little later and the Indian Mutiny was upon us,
enveloping the entire nation in a cloud of gloom

rS SOME KEMINISCENCEJ

and sorrow. These were the dark days before the
dawn. I remember my father one day reading aloud
in the gloaming, with an unsteady voice and dim
eye, the awful story of the massacre of Cawnpore,
while my mother, at whose feet I lay, and nestled
in the firelight, cried and sobbed as if her heart
vvrould break ; and I, too — not understanding
altogether — cried aloud out of sympathy with her
who was always the dearest woman in the world
to me.

One more of my early recollections, also associated
with piping and redcoats, I should like to give here,
and it will be my last.

One day, in the autumn of '53, I was taken by
my father to see Queen \^ictoria as she passed
through the Crinan Canal on one of her early trips
to the Highlands. Miller's Bridge, as it was called,
was the point of vantage aimed at, as at that spot
the track boat called the Sunbeam slowed down to
allow of the track-rope being unhitched to clear the
bridge, and also because from there we commanded
a good view of a long stretch of canal, and, at the
same time, of the low or main road along which the
soldiers who formed the bodyguard of the Queen —
picked men of the Ninety-Third — were to march on
their way to Crinan.

It was thus an ideal spot from which to watch
the whole proceedings. The weather was " Queen's
weather." The sun shone out of a cloudless sky,
flooding the country-side with a glorious mellow
light. Such a day on the West Coast is something

AND THE BAGPIPE. 39

to be experienced ; something to be remembered ;
something to be enjoyed ; but cannot be described.

It is as superior to an autumn day elsewhere as
is a Lochfyne herring to every other herring in the
sea, and leaves happy memories behind. On this
day of which I speak the warm wind came off the
sea in short puffs, and wandered and lost itself
languorously in the tree-tops by the canal bank, as
if, too, awaiting the coming of the greatest lady in
the land. The woods of Auchindarroch, which
dipped down to and kissed the water on the opposite
bank, were decked out in all their autumn finery of
brown and gold. The silken stirring of the leaves,
and the hum of myriad insects whispered of
eternal summer. The waters of Lochgilp, lying at
our feet, glistened in the bright sunshine like polished
silver, and the calm surface of the loch, disturbed
only by the late swell of the paddle steamer lona^
rose and fell with a gentle heaving like the breast
of some young girl in love's first dream.

The last bell of the lona had scarcely done ringing
when the distant sound of Bagpipes announced to
us that the Queen had started on her journey through
the canal, and ere long the music, growing clearer
and louder, heralded the near approach of the soldiers
as they marched gaily along the low road, to the
tune of " The Campbells are Coming, Hurrah !
Hurrah !" To my great disappointment, however,
the pipers ceased playing as they drew near to
Miller's Bridge ; a short disappointment it was, as
almost immediately the music had ceased a soldier

40 SOME REMINISCENCES

Stepped out of the front rank, and facing round so
that he marched backwards, sang that beautiful
Jacobite marching song, '' Ho, ro, March Together;
Ho, ro, Mhorag." At the end of each verse, the
soldiers took up the chorus, and in this way they
marched and sang, and sang and marched, until the
company was lost to sight, and the singing had died
softly away. To us children, the passing of the
Highlanders in their gay uniforms, the swing of the
kilts, the piping, and the singing, were simply en-
trancing, and together gave a real touch of holiday
feeling to the afternoon.

Hardly, however, had silence fallen upon the air
when it was once more broken by sounds of distant
cheering, and a thrill of excitement passed through
the waiting crowd as it eagerly watched for the
coming of the Queen. As the six grey horses, with
their little boy riders, came in sight, sweeping round
the bend at " Taura-vinyan-vhor " like a tornado, the
great gathering which lined the canal bank, far as eye
could see, raised a mighty cheer. It was a beautiful
spectacle which met the eye and an impressive one.
Each rider wore a black or crimson, gold-braided
jockey cap, scarlet coat, white corduroy breeches, and
patent leather boots with yellow tops. Drawn by six
splendid greys, on this most favoured of days, the
Sunbeam seemed to fly, and sitting on the top deck,
smiling and bowing to all, we at length beheld
Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen. " The
Queen ! The Queen ! " shouted the people, " God
bless the Queen ! " cried old and young.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 4I

Perched on my father's shoulder, I had a splendid
view of everything, and shall never forget the
scene.

The crowd around us cheered again and again with
wild enthusiasm as the boat slowed down going
through the narrow bridgeway, and feasted their eyes
upon the "little lady" who ruled so lightly over so
mighty a kingdom ; but as for me, though carried
away by the prevailing enthusiasm for a moment,
being yet but a child, my eyes soon wandered away
from the main attraction of the day to the six grey
horses with their little rider-boys, who in their
smart gay-coloured trappings looked as if fresh out
of Fairyland.

CHAPTER IV.

A WELL-ABUSED INSTRUMENT — THE BAGPIPE.

"VTO musical instrument has been subjected to so
much hostile criticism as the Great Highland
Bagpipe.

No musical instrument has been so often made the
butt of the heavy after-dinner wits !

Men, in whom the sense of humour seems entirely
awanting, waken up on the first mention of the word
Bagpipe, feeling that their reproach is about to be
taken from them — now they will show that they too
are possessed of a nice wit — and nine out of ten such
answer the simple question " Do you like the

Bagpipe?" with, '* Oh, yes ! I like the Bagpipe ■

at a distance." The long pause after Bagpipe
punctuates the wit, and prepares for the laughter
that always follows.

Is this sort of thing not becoming a little stale ?

It may be clever ! I really do not know ; but even
the best joke loses force from over-repetition.

Demades, the Athenian Orator, a man " of no
character or principle," who lived in the beginning
of the fourth century, B.C., was among the first to set

AND THE BAGPIPE. 43

the fashion of laughing at the Pipe, and there has
been a host of imitators since his day.

Falstaff, that unprincipled braggart, says that he is
''as melancholy as the drone of a Lincolnshire
Bagpipe."

Shylock's reference to it is unfit for gentle ears.

Otway, of whom his biographer writes " little is
known, nor is there any part of that little which his
biographer can take pleasure in relating," said once,
" A Scotch song ! I hate it worse than a Scotch
Bagpipe."

While William Black, the novelist, not to be
outdone in originality by these old writers, harps
upon the same string thus — " Sermons, like the
Scotch Bagpipes (sic), sound very well, — when one
does not hear them."

Only the other day an English critic, who was
present at a large gathering of Highlanders in one of
the Midland towns, wrote to his paper as follows : —
"The Highlanders cheered loud and long as the
pipers marched into the hall to the strain of the
Bagpipes. The Englishmen also cheered heartily
Tiohen the pipers marched out.''

The italics mark the humour, and prevent the
careless reader from missing a joke, all time-worn and
thread-bare as it is.

" Now, by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time :
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh like parrots at a Bagpiper."

CHAPTER V.

THE CRITICS AND THE BAGPIPE.

'X'HE Humourist does not always shine as a wit
when poking fun at the Bagpipe, but he is as
a rule good-natured.

There is nothing spiteful ; nothing giving '*just
cause for offence," in the allusions to the Bagpipe just
quoted.

The modern critic, however, stands on a different
platform in this respect from the wit. The Kplnk or
judge is lost in the carper or faultfinder. The critic
in short becomes the finic, and in his findings
there is none of that "Mercy that boasteth over
judgment."

He seems to me always to approach his subject in
an atrabilious frame of mind. He is at once, and
strongly antagonistic. The Bagpipe acts on him like
the proverbial red rag on the bull. Anger sits at his
nostrils. He lays about him like a man with a
sledge-hammer ; caring for nothing, not even for
truth, so long as he can strike and wound and
bruise.

And, as might be suspected, in his criticisms

AND THE BAGPIPE. 45

good-nature and humour are both conspicuous by
their absence.

Here are a few choice specimens, culled at random,
from these flowers of speech ! " An instrument of
torture," writes one ; " As vile an instrument as it is
possible to conceive," writes another ; "A sorry
instrument, capable only of making an intolerable
noise," says a third ; *' A barbarous instrument, harsh
and untunable," writes a fourth; "A squeeling
pig" in a poke," and " A portable screech owl."
These last two make up a wandering Jew's genial
contribution to the criticism of the carpers.

This is mud-throwing quite worthy of Mr T. W.
Crossland at his best, but it is not fair criticism. It is
Billingsgate pure and simple.

It is the voice of unreason and querulous discontent.
This is the sort of criticism that suggested once to
Disraeli the famous saying : "■ You know who the
critics are. The men who have failed in literature
and art." And the failures are as a rule a dis-
contented and a supercilious lot.

Let us now take and examine for curiosity's sake
one of those typical magazine articles on the
Bagpipe, from the pen of the musical expert, which
crop up periodically.

The critic on this occasion is one Mr John Storer
(Mus. Doc). He it is who called the Pipe in his own
elegant way "An instrument of torture." Surely,
"A Daniel come to judgment!" Can we expect
fair play for the Bagpipe from a judge who condemns
before the case is well begun ? It is a little difficult to

46 SOME REMINISCENCES

imagine so: but let us see. Mr Storer, having given
his readers a taste of his pretty wit in these words,
the Bagpipe is an " instrument of torture," proceeds
gravely to his task of critic, — Heaven save the mark !

I waded through what turned out to be a dry and
barren rigmarole — I do not wish to be disrespectful,
but no other word is so truthfully expressive of the
article — hoping, alas in vain, to pick up some
crumbs of knowledge from this expert's lore.

He is powerful in " gibes and flouts and jeers," but
in nothing else. His knowledge of the subject is
surely of the flimsiest ! His facts are travesties
of truth.

" Although to most cultivated ears," he says,
" The Bagpipe is not a thing of pleasure or joy, it is
nevertheless a curious fact that it has a fascination for
those who have little or no ear for the ?nusic of any
other instrimient, and no less a man that Dr Johnson,
whose musical knowledge was in his own words
limited to being able to distinguish the sound of a
drum from that of a trumpet, and a Bagpipe from
that of a guitar, seemed nevertheless to take pleasure
in the tones of a Bagpipe. He loved to stand with
his ear close to the big drone. The picture thus
conjured up of the great lexicographer is, to say the
least of it, most diverting ; certainly there is no
accounting for taste. '^

This is the sort of rubbish which a certain type
of musical critic palms off as criticism upon an
unsuspecting public.

Now, bad taste, which is the taste Mr Storer refers

AND THE BAGPIPE. 47

to here, and which he illustrates by his article, is
easily accounted for. It is generally due to
ignorance. Mr vStorer also says it is a curious fact
that the Bagpipe has a fascination for those who have
no ear for music.

Where and when did Mr Storer learn this fact?
Did he first prove it for himself before he gave it to
the world ?

Did he take a census of the many thousands who
love the Bagpipe? And then, did he test their ears?
If not, what of his curious fact ? He must have
taken it on trust from some Hi'ghland humourist, who
was perhaps "coaching" him on the subject before
he wrote his article, or it is but the figment of his own
brain. The latter is, in my opinion, the more likely
hypothesis of the two.

Mr Storer's reasoning, however, is no sounder than
his ** fact," when we come to examine it, and summed
up in a nutshell it amounts to this : —
Dr Johnson had no ear for music.
( Dr Johnson loved the Bagpipe.
Therefore
All who love the Bagpipe have no ear for music.
Or, again —

The Bagpipe is an " instrument of torture ; "

Therefore
No one with an ear for music loves it ;

But
A great many people love it ;

Therefore
A great many people have no ear for music.

48 SOME REMINISCENCES

Now, as a matter of fact, within most people's
knowledge the Bagpipe is not an " instrument of
torture " when well played any more than is the fife,
or flute, or fiddle, or organ ! And it is simply not
true to say that only " persons with little or no ear"
enjoy its music.

We have a good example in the " Unspeakable
Scot," of how a whole nation may be traduced by a
writer who snaps his fingers at truth, and makes
facts to suit himself.

In the same way to ridicule any musical instrument
is an easy matter.

Take for example that prince of instruments, the
fiddle. We all know what a delight it is in the hands
of a Sarasate playing on a peerless Stradivarius.
But Sarasates are as rare as great pipers, and a
*' Strad " is not in every fiddler's hand : so if we
are to judge the violin fairly, some allowance must
be made for the indifferent player, and the cheap
badly-made instrument.

The caterwaulings of the budding violiniit, or the
unmusical scrapings on the catgut of the drunken
street fiddler are no doubt disagreeable, and lend
themselves to the ridiculous.

The fiddle in such hands may be even more
painful to the ''cultivated ear" than Mr Storer's
London Bagpipes ; but no fair-minded critic would
on this account call the fiddle "an instrument of
torture."

It seems, however, impossible for a certain class of
critics to review the Bagpipe in an impartial spirit.

Tuning up the Northumbrian Small Pipe of Six Reeds.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 49

Even Mr W. Chappell in that otherwise delight-
ful book of his, " Popular Music of the Olden
Times," cannot resist having a quiet fling at it in
passing.

"Formerly," he says, "the Bagpipe was in use
among all the lower classes in England, although
nov) happily confined to the Northy From which
remark we may infer that Mr Chappell, the Eng-
lishman, would willingly see it consigned not only
to the North, but to the back of the North Pole as
well, or, in fact, kicked over the edge of the world
into everlasting perdition, if that were possible.

" Take heed of critics," said Dekker, " they bite,
like fish, at anything." And so it is with musical
critics, W'hen they get on this subject ; they both
bark and bite at the Bagpipe. The above statement
by Mr Chappell might well lead the incautious
reader to think that the Bagpipe was confined to
the lower orders in England.

This is not the case, however. It was patronised
by Royalty from remotest times. The early kings of
England kept Pipers, and on one occasion at least,
the King — as the exchequer rolls show — paid for
his Piper's musical training, and sent him, at his
own expense, to visit the famous Continental schools.
It was also a general favourite at one time with the
upper classes, as well as with the common people.

But it has been so long silent in the South that
there is some excuse for the Englishman who, after
listening to and enjoying a Highland pibroch, asked
the piper to play it over again in English. There

50 SOME REMINISCENCES

is no excuse, however, for the learned ignorance
which some musicians display when writing on this
subject.

Dr. vStorer and Mr Chappell are both Englishmen,
I presume, and are probably, on this account, un-
acquainted with the peculiar and old-fashioned scale
of the chanter which the piper has to contend with.

They cannot surely have heard any of the great
masters play.

At all events they seem to have taken their ideas
of pipe music from the incoherent ramblings of the
London street piper, the Whitechapel Highlander?
a creature with nothing Highland in him, unless it
be the whisky that is oozing out of every pore of
his dirty body ? — a huge sham of a Highlander who
takes the ill-tuned, ill-made affair, called by courtesy
a Bagpipe, out of the pawnshop, along with his
kilt, every Monday morning, and with hideous
noises, kills the quiet places, which are already all
too fev*^ in our great cities. I readily acknowledge
that this class of piper is beyond the pale, and is a

fit subject for ridicule, if any critic care to stoop so
low.

CHAPTER VI.

A ROYAL INSTRUMENT.

T^HE Bagpipe is an instrument of great antiquity.
■^ All authorities are agreed upon this.

The great Highland Bagpipe, which is the perfected
pipe, is also a handsome instrument when decorated
with silk tassel and fluttering ribbon, and bright
tartan cover. And the piper, with shoulders well
back and head erect, is a pleasing sight as he
marches backwards and forwards to the rhythm of
the music.

There is an old proverb that says, " Handsome is
as handsome does," and here the Bagpipe takes
precedence of such puny competitors as harp or
fiddle ; for of all Scotland's instruments, what other
can compare with it for usefulness? For centuries it
has done the nation's turn handsomely.

It has always been where war's alarms were
thickest, from the day when it led the clansmen at
the bloody battle of Harlaw, or piped reveille in
Priiice Charles Edward Stuart's camp, or carried a
message of hope to the beleaguered garrison of
Lucknow ; to but yesterday, when it cheered on the

52 SOME REMINISCENCES

sons of the empire at Elandslaaghte, and stayed
the rout on that disastrous day at Maagersfontein.

But again ! What other instrument in times of
peace has entered so closely into the daily life of
the old Scottish Celt? Sweetening the toils of his
labours with its old-world songs ; enlivening his
hours of recreation with its merry strathspeys and
reels ; soothing the burden of his sorrows with its
plaintive laments.

At once the saddest and the liveliest of instru-
ments, this '* antique " appeals from a past that is
gone for ever, and — cla^ in all its old-world panoply
of neuter-third scale v\ath droning bass — challenges
attention, and claims a hearing, and will not be
denied.

At one time the welcome inmate of the palace,
the companion of kings and princes ; at another
time a dweller in the slums, the associate of
wandering minstrels and beggars.

At one moment the darling of the upper classes,
made of costly woods inlaid with precious stones,
or fashioned with beautiful ivory, with silver keys
attached, and clothed in purple velvet rich with the
embroidery of fair hands. Anon ! The herdboy's
plaything, made of " ane reid and ane bleddir,"
deposed from its high position, and driven out of
society as " a rude and barbarous instrument."

When fallen upon evil days, the piper of yore,
shouldering his " pipes," and shaking the dust of
the city from off his feet, retired to the old home
among the mountains, where he was sure of a wel-

AND THE BAGPIPE. 53

come from the lonely goatherd, whose favourite
instrument it was from the earliest of ages ; whose
invention it was ; and where he could bide his time
waiting for better days. The Bagpipe has in this
way survived the royal displeasure, the neglect of
the great and wealthy, the denunciation of bard and
minstrel, and the criticism of hostile musicians ; and
it is still a living force in the world.

A Jew, who once visited Strathglass in the High-
lands, nearly a hundred years ago, was much struck
with the power which this rude instrument wielded
over the Highlander.

Now this Jew hated Bagpipe music as he hated
the Evil One. When his Highland host, profuse in
hospitality to the last, sent a piper to play him
some miles on his way at leaving, he returned his
hospitality by saying ungraciously — only after he
left the Highlands well behind him, you may be
sure — " My young Highlander played me on the
road five miles, and I would gladly have sunk the
portable screech-ov/1 appendage."

He hated the very name of Bagpipe. To him in
his ignorance this love of the Highlander for the
Pipe was incomprehensible. He felt himself com-
pletely out of touch with a people who could
appreciate such music. It annoyed him ; and in
his wrath he cried aloud, "To think that this
squeeling pig in a poke should be the great lever
of a people's passion."

We want no better testimony than this of the Jew
— prejudiced as he was — to the influence and power

54 SOME REMINISCENCES

of the Bagpipe in olden times. '* The great lever
of a people's passion " it was in all verity.
And should this not be so?

Its history is one of which every Scotsman should
be proud.

Its power over the Highlanders in Strathglass
and elsewhere was not a mere flash in the pan.
More than once, as history tells us, the soldier
refused to advance in battle except to its music ;
and under its influence the dying man has often
cut his moorings, and drifted out into the unknown
sea with a smile on his face.

Its influence over men's passions goes back to
early times as well.

Nor has this power been exerted upon only one
race, nor confined to only one age. Centuries ago
civilised Europe adopted it as the instrument of
instruments. All sorts and conditions of men :
Greek, Latin, Roumanian, Bulgarian, Austrian,
Hungarian, German, Frenchman, Spaniard, fell
under the influence of its sway, and sang or danced
to its pipings.

And centuries before this, while history still
"lisped in numbers," the Bagpipe was held in high
repute. For are we not told of kingly feet dancing
to its music as early as the second century before
Christ, and of royal hands fingering the chanter
in the first century of the present era? It is of this
instrument then that I would speak..
A handsome instrument withal.
One of the oldest musical instruments in the world,

AND THE BAGPIPE. 55

but to all seeming blessed with perpetual youth. It is
fresh and vigorous to-day as when it sounded in
the ears of Rome's Imperial master, or when, still
earlier, Antiochus, the proud Syrian monarch, danced
to its measures. Nor would our late noble Queen,
Victoria the Great, have kept a piper if she did not
delight in its strange quaint music, so different
indeed in character, and in its effect upon the
listener, from the cultivated melodies of to-day.

The Highland Bagpipe is as old as the High-
lander himself, in spite of what the modern critic
says, and notwithstanding the silence of the
historian.

The Celt took it with him to the Highlands when
he migrated there, along with his household gods,
and many another thing not mentioned in history,
and not yet labelled in the collections of the
antiquary.

CHAPTER VII.

THE WHY AND THE WHEREFORE.

" To mind the inside of a book is to entertain one's self
with the forced products of another man's brain. Now, I
think a man of quality and breeding maj' be much amused
with the natural sprouts of his own."

Lord Foppington in The Relapse.

r^ENTLE READER, if 3^ou wish to know the
^^ why and the wherefore of this little book,
written in our so-enlightened twentieth century, upon
so archaic a subject as the Bagpipe, these are to be
found — if I have made myself at all intelligible — in
the introductory chapters.

As, however, you may not care to wade through
what are, after all, little better than half-forgotten
reminiscences, loosely strung together, and probably
interesting only to the writer of them, I will here
state shortly the reasons which have induced me to
take up the pen — an instrument which I most
thoroughly detest ! — and appear before the world as
an author at a time of life Avhen most men seek
seclusion and ease.

The first reason then is this. In my youth
everything Highland was discouraged and held up

An African Bagpipe :

The bag made from the whole skin of a small doe or g^azelle. The blow-pipe,
whicli is carved, is the leg-bone of a flamingo or other bird. The horns are used
as terminals to the double reed of the chanter.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 57

to ridicule. The old language, the old dress, and
the old music shared a common fate. The Highland
sentiments which found untrammelled expression in
private when we boys were alone of an evening,
telling stories round the garret fire, and which should
have been treasured and guarded as a something
*' better than rubies," were ruthlessly stamped out.
The Highland instincts with which I was born, and
which should have been zealously fostered and nursed
into full growth by my parents, were severely
repressed.

And this book is the outcome of the reaction which
set in after mature years.

It is my protest against a treatment which might
have destroyed — but which, luckily for me, did not do
so — all those Highland tendencies and aspirations of
my youth, to which I still cling as to something that
is dearer than life, and which makes it possible for m.e
to-day — for me, who, perforce, have lived the better
part of my life among the cities of the plain — to
" turn mine eyes to the hills," when in travail, as
did of old the sweet Singer of Israel, and to say
in all sincerity and love, " My heart's in the
Highlands."

My next reason is this !

Scotsmen — not to say Highlanders — have shewn
themselves, by their writings and otherwise,
wondrously ignorant of the main subject of this
book — the Bagpipe and Bagpipe music.

Take for example these common words — slogan,
coronach, and pibroch.

58 SOME REMINISCENCES

Slogan, I need hardly say, is the Avar-cry or
gathering word of the clan. And yet in the latest
and only book on the Bagpipe, Mr Manson (p. 133)
gravely tells us that the piper " began to play the
slogan of the clan."

I hold in my hand at this moment a piece of
music sent to me from Aberdeen, and set to the
''pipes," entitled "General Hector MacDonald's
Coronach."

Coronach, or cronach, is a crying or shouting
together ; from comh (together) and ranach (an out-
cry). It is the wailing and clapping of hands by
the old women gathered round the bier. It is the
kreen or keen of the Irish, and is still practised in
Ireland. It has nothing to do with pipe music and
never had ; and yet a gentleman who, if not a
Highlander, appears constantly in the Highland
dress, and is looked upon by many as one of the
leading exponents of Highland music, writes a piece
of Bagpipe music, and calls it " General Hector
MacDonald's Coronach." How this mistake in the
meaning of the word coronach arose, or when, I do
not know, but it was some time after the '45. The
earliest example known to me occurs in a book
written in 1783 by one W. F. Martyn, where he
says " The Highland funerals were generally pre-
ceded by Bagpipes, which played certain dirges
called coronachs."

Now the dirge on the Bagpipe is a lament
(Gaelic, ciimlia) and not a coronach.

But even Logan in "The Scottish Gael," 1831,

AND THE BAGPIPE. 59

mixes up the ciimha or lament of the "pipes" with
the coronach or lament of the old women. In
vol. ii.. pp. 284-5, he says, "The piobrachd, as its
name implies, is properly a pipe tune, and is
usually the crunneachadh or gathering, but also
includes a cumha^ coronach or lament, and a failte,
salute or welcome.

And to make sure that his meaning shall not be
mistaken, he adds, "Their characters are much
alike, with the exception of the coronach^ which is
of course particularly slow, plaintive, and expres-
sive.

John Hill Burton, the historian, makes a double
blunder in the use of this word. He talks of a war
coronach. In his " Life of Simon, Lord Lovat,"
published in 1847, we read, " Before these out-
rages" — perpetrated by Simon — "the Frasers seem
to have been enjoying a degree of repose and
tranquility, which in their hot mountain blood must
have been felt as an unwholesome stagnation. It
would be to the delight of their fierce natures that
one morning the war coronach was heard along
Stratheric and Strathglass, and the crossterie or
fiery cross passed on. It may be said that the
"war coronach" here means war pipe, and not a
pipe tune at all ; the word, of course, has no such
meaning.

Fifty years later. Dr. Walter C. Smith, writing
in " Kildrostan," says " Eachain Macrimmon is
playing a coronach^ as it were for a chief."

No wonder that with such authorities before them^

6o SOME REMINISCENCES

smaller writers are busy to-day perpetuating a
blunder, that an acquaintance with the great writers
of the past should have prevented them from ever
making.

Simon, Lord Lovat, in a letter to President
Forbes, date 1745, writes, " If I am killed here it
is not far from my burial place ; and I will have,
after I am dead, what I always wished, the cronach
of all the women in tny country to convey my body
to the grave ; and that has been my ambition when
I was in my happiest situation in the world." This
wonderful man, whose whole career was full of
strange happenings, and of whom it might be said
with truth, that " Men's bad deeds are writ in brass,
their good deeds writ in water," had the unique
experience of hearing his own coronach. Knowing
that their captured Chief was already as good as
dead ; knowing full well that they would never see
his face again, now that a cruel government had got
hold of him, the wail of the old women, singing
his coronach, followed the litter on which lay Morar
Shime — long a helpless cripple from gout — as he was
being carried through his own beloved country of
Stratheric on his way to London and the scaffold.

In "Humphrey Clinker," published about 1771,
Smollet says : " attended by the coronach of a multi-
tude of old hags who tore their hair."

And, again, Pennant, who published his book in
1774, mentions " the coronach or singing at funerals."
While Sir Walter Scott, in 1814, writes, "Their wives
and daughters came clapping their hands, and crying

AND THE BAGPIPE. 6l

their coronach, and shreiking." These three things
together — the shreiking, and crying, and clapping
of hands — constituted the coronach.

The third word, pibroch (Gaelic, piohrachd or
piobaireachd), is also being constantly misapplied for
Bagpipe and march.

I am often asked, " How is the piobrach getting
on?" meaning how is the Bagpipe getting on ; and
a few weeks ago I took the following quotation
from a daily newspaper :—

" Ichabod is the watchword for the Highlands
and Islands, and the piobrach may skirl the lament,"
etc.

Writers constantly talk of marching to piobrachs,
which is a little absurd, when we remember that
the piobrach is a piece of classical music, in which
the time is constantly varying from the largo or
andante of the air (Gaelic, urlar) to the allegro of
the closing movement, the crnnluadh, and cannot
therefore be marched to.

In poetry this use of the word piobrach is perhaps

permissible.

" Sound the piobrach loud and high,
Frae John-o-Groats to Isle of Skye ! "

As this old song has it, it is at least poetical, although
it is really the Pipe which is sounded.

In Lord Byron we read, " For when the piobrach
bids the battle rage ; " an expression that oft^nds
neither eye nor ear, although not correct, strictly
speaking.

And Miss Mary Campbell, in "The March of the

62 SOME REMINISCENCES

Cameron Men," that proudest and most patriotic
of Highland songs, makes the chorus repeat again
and again : —

" I hear the piohrach sounding, sounding,
Deep o'er the mountain and glen.
While light-springing footsteps are trampling the heath,
'Tis the march of the Cameron men."

One poet, in that well-known song, "The
Hundred Pipers, and a', and a'," even goes the
the length of making the soldiers, after they had
crossed a swollen river, dance themselves dry to
the piobrach's sound. Now pioh is the pipe, piohair
the piper, and piohaireachd the piper's special
music, and the one should never be substituted for
the other.

A third reason for taking up the pen is this.

I have got together a collection of Bagpipes be-
longing to various peoples and countries, which
will, in all probability, one day get scattered. It is
the fate of most collections of curios ; and I wish
to perpetuate by means of photo-illustrations in this
book not only the pipes, which are interesting in
themselves, but the many lessons to be learned from
a study of them.

And my last reason for venturing upon the
troublous sea of authorship, at this time, must also
be my justification.

I have got a message to deliver to my brother
Highlander !

When Mr Carnegie of Skibo Castle was address-
ing the students of St. Andrews University as their

AND THE BAGPIPE. 6,

recently appointed Lord Rector, he spoke with the
light of the flaring torches reflected from a hundred
opposing windows, bringing into relief, out of the
darkness, the faces of the great crowd that surged in
the street below. And he finished up a happy speech
with words to this effect^ — 'Let your motto be, 'I
will carry the torch of truth into the dark places of
the world.' " These words, spoken under such cir-
cumstances, had an added significance that must
have impressed itself upon the receptive youths
around. Now the history of the Bagpipe needs
illuminating badly. It is one of the dark places of
the world, so to speak. I believe that I can throw
some light upon it. My torch may be only a rush-
light, but if it brings into viev/ a single hidden
truth, however small, I have no right to hide it
under a bushel. ''Let your light so shine, that
it may be seen of all men," is the command of the
Master.

It is enough for me then, that I think I have
some truth to unfold, something new to say, or
something to say in a new way, and this must
be, after all, my sole justification for troubling an
already book-ridden world with one more volume.

CHAPTER VIII.

WANTED — A BOOK ON THE BAGPIPE.

" To travel hopefully is better than to arrive, and the
true success is in labour,"

Robert Louis Stevenson.

OOME time in 1901 there was issued from
^-^ the well-known publishing firm of Alexander
Gardner, Paisley, a rather voluminous work, entitled
" The Highland Bagpipe, " by W. L. Manson.

This v^olume, containing so much interesting and
varied information, must have cost Mr Manson an
infinite amount of trouble, and every true Highlander
will readily acknowledge his indebtedness to him for
the interest he has displayed in, and the learning he
has expended upon, the unravelling of the tangled
skein of Bagpipe history.

It is so far the only work wholly devoted — as its
title indicates — to the '* History and Literature and
Music of the Pipe."

It is indeed the only work of the kind in this or in
any other language, so far as I know, if we are to
except a small French book written by Mersenne
in 1631.

Photograph

of a small wooden piper playing on a one-drone Pipe. Found at Dinon, in France.
Supposed to be taken from an old church when it was being dismantled.

Presented by Miss Ella Risk of Bankier.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 65

With Mr Manson's goodly-sized volume before us,
then, is there any need for another book on a subject
interesting only to the few, and about which so little
is known ?

I think there is.

Is there a demand for a new work?

I believe so. And having the courage of my
opinion, I mean at any rate to put it to the test, and if
the world proves me in the wrong, by leaving my
book to dissolve itself away in the butter shop — Well !
better books have gone there ere now, and ' ' to travel
hopefully is better than to arrive, and the true success
is in labour." My reason, however, for so thinking
is this : Mr Manson's book has itself created the
demand for further information.

His praise like his blame is ill-balanced and
somewhat erratic.

He blows hot and cold by turns, and never seems
long in the same mood. And it is the unexpected
that you meet with more frequently than not on
turning over the page.

He says too much or too little. He leaves many
interesting questions unanswered, after just whetting
our curiosity ; and our hopes of arriving at some safe
conclusion are raised at one moment, only to be
dashed to the ground at the next.

In short, his opinions, . to which one looks for

guidance, are too often only half formed, and, like

all things in the process of formation, are nebulous

and want crystalising.

On this account the reader generally rises from a

66 SOME REMINISCENCES

perusal of Mr Manson's book unsatisfied, and with a
feeling of irritation that is quite intelligible.

He wants something more definite than is there ;
he asks for bread, and refuses to be content with a
stone.

He wants more definite praise : more definite
blame, if you will !

He does not like to be told in one chapter,
e.g.,^ that "Some have invented contrivances and
modifications for bringing the instrument nearer to
all-round music, and are not likely to succeed'''' ; and
in the next chapter, to learn that in Mr Manson's
opinion **The Bagpipe is the result of an evolution
process, and we may yet see it further improved."

Nor can one wonder if the intelligent Highlander
doubts whether a writer knows anything about the
*' Pipes, " who asserts that the instrument can be
modulated during playing, as the following quotation
from this book seems to indicate : *' The more hot
and deadly the fire became, the more highly strung
became the pipers' feelings, and the louder squeeled
the Pipes."

I don't want to quarrel with the word "squeeled,"
applied to the Pipe, although it is not a very
complimentary one, but I may point out, without, I
hope, giving offence, that the loudness of the Bagpipe
is the same throughout the tune, and does not vary,
and is quite irrespective of the feeling of the piper
or of the number of bullets knocking about.

We are also informed by Mr Manson that "The
old pipers could indeed so regulate their instrument

AND THE BAGPIPE. 67

as to make their music almost as sweet as that of
the violin, but," he adds, "sweetness is not the
outstanding feature of the Bagpipe."

I do not know that the old piper could regulate his
instrument more than the modern piper. The only-
regulation is the difference in tone between a soft and
a hard set of reeds.

In the tail of the last sentence, you will notice, there
is a sting only half veiled.

Such pin pricks meet one at every turn in this
work, and are thrown in, I suppose, as a sop to those
who dislike the Pipe ; but as these are the very people
who will never open the book, it is " love's labour
lost" in appealing to their understandings.

But, again, no one has ever attributed sweetness
as "its outstanding feature" to the great War Pipe
of the Highlands. Kid gloves and sweetness are not
always desirable on the battlefield, as we learned to
our cost in South Africa, and the Bagpipe is first and
above all things a war instrument.

Still many people are pleasurably affected by the
Bagpipe even in times of peace ; and to such this
"rude and barbarous instrument," while not in itself
sweetness, can discourse sweet music pleasantly.

What air, for example, is sweeter than the old
Pipe tune "Bonny Strathmore," or softer and more
melodious than "Bonny Ellen Owen," cr more filled
with pathos than is that delightful litde air called
^' After the Battle?"

Chevalier Newkomn, the friend and companion of
Mendelssohn in his tour through Scotland in 1829,

68 SOME REMINISCENCES

Strikes the right key-note in his criticism of the
Bagpipe when, in answer to some carping critic, he
wrote, " When you traverse a Highland glen you
must not expect the breath of roses, but must be
content with the smell of heather. In like manner
Highland music has its rude wild charms."

One other and last example well illustrates the
difficulty of getting at Mr Manson's real opinion on
any subject connected with the Bagpipe. To say that
it has an "actual language," he calls a "wild
fanciful notion." " Of the speaking power of the
Pipes about 75 per cent, exists in the vivid
imagination of the Highlander . . . the Bagpipe
cannot speak any more than it can fly."

As it stands this opinion is definite enough ; but

what are we to think of the writer when a few pages

further on we read the following : — " The Piobrach

of *" Daorach Rohhi' contains the keenest satire ever

levelled at the vice of drunkenness. The ludicrous

imitation of the coarse and clumsy movements, the

maudlin and staring pauses, the helpless imbecility of

the drunkard as he is pilloried, in the satire with

the ever-recurring notes, ' Seall a nis air ' (look at

him now) are enough to annihilate any person

possessing the least sensibility." Is this not

speaking! and plain speaking too? If the Bagpipe

can express half of the above, if it possess notes that

can sneer, and notes that scathe with their keen satire,

it has surely an "actual language." I do not know

this marvellous tune by the name of ^^ Daorach

Robbi,'' but if it is the same as the pibroch called

AND THE BAGPIPE. 69

^^ An Daorach Mhor'' or "The Big Spree," it is
one of my favourites, and trips out of the chanter
with uncertain steps, Hke a merry Bacchanal. No
tune gives my little ones greater pleasure, after they
have retired for the night, than this one, the piper
playing and acting the tune backwards and forwards
along the nursery floor, previously cleared of all
impedimenta.

Staggering along to the irregular measure of the
pibroch, one can give a very good imitation of a man
who is being gradually overcome in his cups. The
effect is entirely due to the halting measure of the
tune ; the satire, if it can be called satire, is eminently
good-natured. Tennyson gets a similar effect in his
" Northern Farmer " — a rhythmic effect — where he
imitates the jog-trot of the farmer's old mare by the
idle refrain " Proputty, proputty, proputty."

CHAPTER IX.

OLD NEW YEAR — A REMINISCENCE.

n^O-DAY is New-Year's Day, the first of January,
1904.

In my young days, the Twelfth, a date now all
but forgotten, was the day, and a great day too !
The whole village, dressed in its Sunday best, turned
out early to football and shinty.

There were no restrictions in numbers or in age :
old and young met on the same field, and all were
made welcome. Twenty ! Fifty ! One hundred a
side ! And the more the merrier.

How well I remember the old days !

My heart still beats faster at the thoughts con-
jured up by them.

We are told somewhere that *' A thousand years is
to the Lord as one day ; " and what is the longest of
lifetimes when looked back upon, to man made in His
image — to man the Godlike?

It is but as yesterday.

The memory of events that happened on a certain
New Year's Day some forty years ago, rises up before
me while I write, clear and distinct as crag and scaur
on summer hill before rain.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 7I

My dearest school friend and myself — we were as
David and Jonathan in the closeness of our friend-
ship ! — were to take part in the game of football for
the first time. How proud we felt, as we marched
alongside of our seniors to the bank field, which was
granted free for the occasion by Campbell of Auchin-
darroch, — the Pipers leading the way to the tune of
" Bhanais, a bhanais, a bhanais a Raora."

There was a cool crisp feeling in the air that in-
toxicated, and many an iron-shod boot struck out
anvil-notes from the hard ground as we made our
way to the scene of action, making music in hearts
already brimming over with the joy of gladness.

Every sound had a special significance to us on
that morning of mornings, and seemed laden with a
message of " Peace and goodwill to man."

The twittering of the sparrows under the eaves of
the house ; the chirp of the robin in the holly bush
hard by ; the whimpering of the sea-birds on the ice-
bound shore, — I seem to hear them still.

From the frozen river below, where some children
were sliding, and one solitary skater, too "delicate"
to take part in the great game, was wheeling about in
graceful curves, the song of the ice floated up on the
calm morning air, a delight to the ear.

While we waited for the settling of the all-important
preliminaries, such as the choosing of captains and
sides and the fixing of goals, the suspense was de-
licious, and it was with a thrill of excitement that
we heard our own names at length called.

And now — having won the toss — as our captain, a

72 SOME REMINISCENCES

tall, Strapping young fisherman, in huge jack boots,
stepped proudly out and in front of the field kicked
off the ball, a mighty shout went up from a hundred
throats strained to cracking point, that rent the air in
twain, and hurtled north, disturbing the rooks as they
sat warming their toes in the Bishopton trees, and
sped west, past the canal and Auchindarroch House
to the dark Tomb Wood, where the jackdaws, cower-
ing among the ivy on the ruined walls, heard it and
wondered ; and swept south over the frozen waters
of Lochgilp, crackling through the solitary street
which formed the fishing village of Ardrishaig like
a salvo of artillery, and bringing the old women to
their doors.

These latter, with many a wise shake of the head
and sapient nod, breathed forth in one breath a hope
and a prophecy. " Sure it's the boys at the ba'," said
the one to the other. " I hope there'll no be blood-
shed before they're done."

It was not a very venturesome prophecy this to
make ; not a very bold suggestion on the part of the
old wives of Ardrishaig, who spoke from an intimate
knowledge of their mankind and his behaviour in the
past ; for wherever men from different townships were
gathered together in those days, whether at games or
sports, at fairs or markets, at weddings or funerals,
the most trivial discussion, once started, generally
ended in a free fight.

But on this particular day of which I write the sun
shone out of a clear sky all morning, flooding the
land and the hearts of the players with brightness

This is n Photogfraph of

Two Instruments allied to the Bagpipe.

On the left is the Chinese Cheng, a wind instrument as old as the days of
Confucius. On the right is the Indian snake-channer's pipe. The wind bag in
both these instances is represented by a hoUowed-out gourd.

i;i

AND THE BAGPIPE. 73

and gladness, and leaving no dark corner anywhere
for fierce or angry thoughts to breed in.

The only accident indeed that happened during the
forenoon, and a pretty frequent one too, was the
bursting of the bladder with which the old-fashioned
football was blown up. When this occurred, came our
opportunity.

At the game itself we boys were not of much use.
Playing on the outskirts of the crowd, for safety's
sake, we occasionally got the chance of picking up
the ball and of running off with it ; but how could we
run far, with a huge Jack in seven-league boots close
on our tracks, and rapidly overtaking us with mighty
stride ?

Now, however, when it came to the buying of a
bladder we could be useful. We knew right well the
difference between the three kinds which generally
adorned the flesher's shop, as they hung in rows from
strong- iron hooks fixed into the wooden rafters over-
head. It would take a very clever man to palm off
upon us — young and all as we were — the inferior
sheep's or cow's for the more substantial pig's.
Threepence, fourpence, and fivepence were the usual
prices, but on New Year's Day the demand was great
and prices ruled high, the unconscionable butcher
making extortionate demands — even to the extent of
eightpence or ninepence — from the players, who were
of course in his power, the demand being greater
than the supply.

On this occasion I was one of the two who were
chosen for the special mission of bladder-buying,

74 SOME REMINISCENCES

and it was with a feeling- of great importance that
we ran down the crowded field in view of all on our
way to the village square, where stood the butcher's
shop.

" Be sure you bring a pig's," cried one greybeard;
*' Get it as cheap as you can," said another ; while a
score of voices sped us on our way with the shout of
" Hurry back ; hurry back."

And hurry back we did, I can assure you, breath-
less and panting, but full of pride and joy at having
knocked a whole penny off the butcher's price.
To-day the smallest boy or girl scoffs at so insigni-
ficant a sum as a penny, and holidays are of weekly
occurrence. In those days a penny was a penny,
and the Queen's Birthday and Old New Year were
the only holidays in the year.

At noon a much-needed halt was called, when a few
of the players went home for dinner, but the majority
remained on the field, and partook of a modest meal
of bread and cheese and whisky galore — " lashins and
lavins iv whisky " — which had been provided for by
a subscription raised earlier in the day from the
players on the ground.

After a short rest, during which the " sneeshan
mull " was handed round freely, and quiet jokes
recounted by the elders, while the young men
indulged in the game of brag, the game was once
more started, but with renewed vigour, each side,
with an equal number of goals to its credit at the
interval, determined to win.

From the very outset the game was seen to be

AND THE BAGPIPE. 75

rougher, and tempers were curbed with difficulty, so
that over and over again the forebodings of the old
wives of Ardrishaig all but came true. At length
the word was spoken, with the insult in it that
nothing but blood would wipe out. A challenge
was given and accepted, umpires were appointed, and
while the combatants stripped for the fray, the
players, glad of the rest, seated themselves round
in a circle on the grass to watch the fight and
discuss probabilities.

I have said that the football of those days was
not so scientific as is the modern game ; there was
not at least so much head play in it, but boxing,
while not perhaps quite like the modern science
either, was on a much higher level of excellence.

Every boy at school had learned to use his fists,
and I need hardly add that gloves were unknown,
and that the fight was generally a fight to the
finish.

Now, with stout hearts behind strong arms, and
clothed in the "quarrel just," I have seen many a
contest in the old days, that for pluck and endur-
ance, and the courage that can take a "licking like
a man," would take a great deal of beating even
to-day.

One fight which I saw between little Ian Fraser
and big Neil M'Geoghan lives fresh in my memory
yet. It was " a great efibrt entirely " for Fraser to
beat the bully M'Geoghan, who was a giant com-
pared to him, and had a tremendous reach of arm,
and was looked upon as the most scientific boxer

76 SOME REMINISCENCES

in the district. The battle of the gods, when Pelion
was heaped upon Ossa, was not a more glorious
encounter than this, and if I had the pen of an
Ovid I might try and describe here, although it is
in nowise connected with the Bagpipe, a fight that
was the talk of the village for many a long day
after. But if Neil is still alive I would fain be the
last to open up old sores ; besides, his broken
nose speaks more eloquently of that rude encounter
than any pen of mine can ; and if he is dead, which
I very much suspect, then peace be to his ashes.

Three different fights on that afternoon formed
pleasant interludes in a game that might otherwise
have flagged.

And when descending darkness brought play to a
close, the opposing sides, now that the contest was
over, marched back to the village, more friends than
ever, with the pipers leading the way.

The evening was spent in merry-making, in strath-
spey and reel dancing, interspersed with riddle
guessing, and the singing of old Gaelic songs, and
in this way in olden times the New Year was well
begun.

CHAPTER X.

AN INTERESTING BYWAY.

"Every science has its byways as well as its highways. It
is along- an interesting byway that this book invites the student to
walk."

'T'HE Rev. James B. Johnston, B.D., minister of
St. Andrew's Church, Falkirk, opens up a
charming introduction to his " Place Names of
Scotland " with the above words.

The science of music, like the science of language
of which Mr Johnston speaks, has also its little-
frequented paths.

The History of the Bagpipe is one of those
interesting byways, if only a short one and a narrow.
So little trod now-a-days, there is small wonder that
the track has become moss-grown, or that it is for
the greater part of the way scarcely discernible.

And if a rare traveller like myself, along this
narrow and little explored pathway, often stumbles
and at times wanders off the track altogether it is
not to be wondered at.

With no library at hand for reference when in a
difficulty ; without time to refer to books, even it the

78 SOME REMINISCENCES

library were within reach, I write under some dis-
advantage. However, as but little notice of the
Bagpipe has been taken by writers of any note in the
past, and as modern writers have stuck to the well-
trodden highway, where facts are few and fallacies
numerous, and missed, or at anyrate neglected the
little used byways, where hidden lies an occasional
golden grain of truth, this disadvantage is not so
great as it would otherwise have been.

Is the Bagpipe a Scottish instrument ?

Is it a Highland instrument?

Is it a Celtic instrument?

In answering these and such like questions most
recent writers are but echoes, the one of the other.
They have been content to take their opinions at
second hand ; to copy one another slavishly, asking not
for proof; shutting their eyes indeed to facts which lay
patent under their very noses, but which, perhaps,
contradicted some pet theory, borrowed at some time
by some one, from some other one whose reputation
as a scholar in Celtic, or in other paths of learning,
gave the worthless dictum an undue weight.

If, then, some well-known facts, and many better
known fallacies, are conspicuous by their absence,
and, like familiar faces that are gone, are missed by
the reader in this book, I hope the deficiencies, if
such, will be more than compensated for, by a display
of greater originality, in my treatment of this very
interesting subject : originality being hitherto the
one element most awanting in lectures or writings
on the Bagpipe.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 79

I cannot remember the time when I did not love
the Bagpipe and take great "delight in its noises,"
and I offer no apologies to-day for saying a word
or two in its defence.

It has been my good fortune to have heard only
good piping in my youth.

When I think over the old days — days that now,
ah kindly, tricky memory ! seem all play and
sunshine, and piping — two names leap to my pen,
the names of Colin M'Lauchlin and Dugald
M'Farlane.

Colin M'Lauchlin among the amateurs stood head
and shoulders above his fellows. He was "clever
at the Pipe " from his earliest years, and while still
only a schoolboy could hold his own with most
professionals. He and one or two others, scarcely
inferior, kept the spirit of piping alive in my native
village. His brother — this by the way — could make
the most marvellous imitations of Bagpipe tunes with
his voice, so absolutely real did they sound, and often
have I marched home from school to his piping.
Now what Colin was among amateurs in the village,
Dugald M'Farlane was among his brother profes-
sionals in the county.

He was a giant among big men. Not only was
he a player unmatched in reels and strathspeys,
but he was learned in all things concerning the
piobaireachd ; and in short Dugald was one of the
best exponents of Pipe music, not forgetting the
Leachs of Glendaruel, that Argyleshire has ever
produced.

8o SOME REMINISCENCES

Dugald attended all the social functions in the
district. His services were in large request where-
ever there was merry-making, whether at feast or
funeral, so that the Lochgilphead people had many-
opportunities of hearing him pipe.

It was from the playing of these two masters that
I learned what a wonderful old instrument the Bag-
pipe in capable hands becomes.

Of course, we occasionally heard piping of a
different order.

I remember well, when a boy of only some six
summers, playing the truant from school for the first
and almost the last time, having allowed myself to
be charmed away from the delights of sing-song
spelling by the witchery of an old wheezy Bagpiper,
whose career came to a somewhat inglorious
termination at a public-house near the end of the
village — the eighth or ninth "pub." visited on that
memorable morning — but not, alas ! in time to let
me get back to school, for morning lessons.

If the piper had kept sober, and had gone on
playing, I do not know where we — for I had com-
panions in evil-doing — would have stopped.

Like the children in the *' Pied Piper of Hamel,"
we might still be marching along to the fairy music
of that most unfairy-like, red-nosed, blear-eyed
anatomy of a musician.

An Old Print :

Published by the Art Union <if Scotland in 1857, shewing a blind piper
performing upon the Irish Bagpipe.

CHAPTER XL

THE DELICATELY-ATTUNED EAR AND THE BAGPIPE.
" I have no ear for music." — Elia.

'T^HE delight which I took in Bagpipe music is one
of my earliest recollections ; a delight which has
lasted until now, and which fades not with the years,
but, like the eagle renewing its youth, rejuvenates
with each fresh Spring, — an ever-growing delight,
which has stood well the test of half a century.

The first sound to fall upon my ear, I fain would
have it also the last. I have never tired of it, I never
shall tire of it, and I must confess to having a
difficulty in understanding the antipathy which some
musicians express towards it. When I read the adverse
criticisms of certain writers who should know some-
thing of musical matters, I cannot help asking
myself this question: " Is the love of music confined
in the scholar to that of one instrument only?" Or
this other question: "Can a 'Doctor of Music' not
speak favourably of the Bagpipe without hurting his
reputation ? Can he not enjoy its old-world melodies,
because the scale to which they are written is one of
neuter thirds?"

82 SOME REMINISCENCES

I am not a musician by profession certainly, and
assume no right to speak as one, but I will yield to no
professional in my passionate love of music of all
kinds when it is good. But I am not ashamed to
own that the Bagpipe is my favourite instrument.
This "foolish fondness," according to the Storer
gospel, is of course due to my "want of ear" for
music. But I maintain, in spite of the learned
gentleman's judgment, that I have an ear for music;
and who is a better judge ? My partiality for the
Pipe, however, does not prevent me, as I have said,
from enjoying the music of other and more modern
instruments. I appreciate the Bagpipe the more I
hear of its old-world strains, but I am also a
Cosmopolitan in taste where music is concerned.
The solemn organ and the lively fiddle equally
affect me when I am in the mood.

I can even extract pleasure from the tinkling
notes of the common hurdy-gurdy that goes grinding
its slow way along the street. Nor are " the
pleasings of the lascivious lute " entirely thrown
away upon me. But in spite of this, the warm
corner in my affections is dedicated to the Bagpipe.
It is just because I have an ear for other music
that I am so pleasurably affected by Pipe music.

And if I can judge other lovers of the Bagpipe
by myself, I do not think that it is in the least true to
say that it is appreciated only by people " who have
no ear for music."

Men of refinement and letters, artists, actors,
soldiers, have professed to find a charm in Pipe

AND THE BAGPIPE. 83

music that is quite peculiar to it, and shared by no
other instrument. Many of the most accomplished
musicians of the day have listened to it with
pleasure, and have spoken warmly in its praise. A
great musician in London, who died quite recently,
was lecturing" some years ago to a mixed audience
which included more than a sprinkling of High-
landers. It may have been to please the latter —
although I hardly think so — that he told them,
among other things, of the fascination the Scotch
Bagpipe had for him. No matter what his business
might be — no matter how pressing — if he heard the
sound of the Pipe down some alley or side street
he immediately turned aside from the business in
hand and set off in quest of the piper, and having
found him had one or two quiet tunes all to himself.

It was not to the fiddle nor to the harp, but to
the Highland Pipe that Mendelssohn went for his
inspiration when he was composing his Scotch
symphony.

Mr Murray, the modern critic, can find no inspira-
tion, Scottish or otherwise, in the Pipes. I would
like very much to see a new Scotch symphony
written by him, or any one else however competent,
with Bagpipe music and all that it stands for left
out.

I give here one or two examples out of many,
shewing the fascination which the Bagpipe exerts
upon people of different tastes, and in different walks
of life.

One day, when far from home, Gordon Gumming,

84 SOME REMINISCENCES

the lion hunter, lay tossing uneasily upon a bed of
sickness, which ultimately proved to be his death-
bed. Sleepless and exhausted, his thoughts turned
to the old home in the Highlands, and to the old
music that he loved as a boy, and he cried aloud
in his anguish — " Oh ! for a tune on the Pipes."
His wish was granted almost as soon as spoken,
in quite a miraculous manner, but with that we
have nothing to do here.* It was the distinguished
traveller's yearning for the Bagpipe at the greatest
crisis in a man's life, — this instrument, so despised
of some — that claims our attention.

Again, when Cameron of Fassifern, who fought
and fell at Quartre Bras, was told by the surgeon
that he was dying, and that there was no hope for
him, he called to his piper, "Come here, M'Vurich.
Play me the 'Death Song of the Skyemen.' My fore-
fathers have heard it before me without shrinking."

" Orain an Aoig," said the piper, shouldering his
Pipes ; and as the mournful notes of the lament rose
above the din of battle, and floated along on the
soft morning breeze, the spirit of the hero — one of
Scotland's truest sons and best ! — passed away on
the wings of the music he so loved.

Some years ago there was a gathering of High-
landers in a Glasgow hotel. Old men who had
grown grey in the service of the great city were
there, and young men fresh from their native glens.

It was a night of conviviality.

The story is told near the end of this book.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 85

Highland sons: and sentiment ruled with undis-
puted sway, and of these the GaeUc song and the
GaeHc word held first place in the esteem and
affections of the listeners.

Over and over again the applause which greeted
speaker and singer was hearty and prolonged ; and
between song and speech there was the constant
buzz of animated conversation, which proclaims a
meeting in harmony with itself, while a cloud of
tobacco smoke mingling kindly with the aroma of
the water that "comes over twenty faals," rose
heavenwards with a sweet incense that assailed
grateful nostrils.

When the piper at length marched up the room
playing the Pibroch of the evening, a Lament in
whose notes there throbbed the sorrow and the sad-
ness of the broken heart, a hush fell upon the
room.

On the face of more than one that evening, as
the Pibroch shook itself down into the full steady
rhythm of the melody, there came a far-away dreamy
look — the look of the taibhseadair or seer.

The spell of the music was upon these children
of the mist, stirring up the old Celtic imagination,
and tenderness, and love of nature.

And the dreamer, forgetful of companions, forget-
ful of the palatial hall in which he sat, forgetful of
the wakeful city outside, forgetful of the pipe which
had gone cold between his fingers, was back once
more in the little thatched cottage at the head of
the glen, taking a boy's delight in stoning the ducks

86 SOME REMINISCENCES

in the pool at the bottom of the garden, or in
harrying over again the field bees' nest for the
sweet morsel of honey that was hidden there. Or
it might be that the dreamer was thinking of the
warm autumn days when he trudged barelegged
and bonnetless through the growing corn, hot on
the heels of the thieving cattle, or when tired and
drowsy at the end of the day, he sat in the firelight
and listened to his mother singing the old songs
timed to the soft whirr of the busy spinning-wheel.

When the last note of the Pibroch had died away,
these dreamers awoke from their dreams, and joined
in the well-deserved applause to the piper that
thundered forth from every part of the room, shaking
the window frames like so many giant rattles; making
the wine glasses jingle joyously on the table, and
the lamplights dance in their sockets.

On the same evening that this gathering of High-
landers took place, and almost within earshot of the
"sounds of revelry," which continued far into the
night— under the very same roof indeed — quite a
different " part" in life's drama was being played.

In a little room upstairs, as far away as possible
from the noise and din of the city, there lay a sick man
who for days had been so near to death's door that,
as Tom Hood once said, " he could hear the creaking
of it's hinges." Now this sick man was tired of every-
thing around ; I had almost said, tired of life itself ;
he was tired at anyrate of his own company ; tired
most of all of the necessary quiet enjoined upon
him by his medical attendant.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 87

To his listening ears there stole up from the
room below the sound of the great Highland Bag-
pipe. The cheery buzz of the drone carried with it
into the sick room a message of hope and life.
It swept through the chamber like a breath of clear
mountain air, heather-scented. It revived like a
deep draught of clear cold water on a hot day. For
many days the whole world had stood on tiptoe,
expectant, at that chamber door, hoping — ay ! and
praying — that the shadow which now darkened it
would quickly flee away ; that the man who lay
there would appear once more with renewed health
and vigour to delight it with his art as he had so
often done before.

Ringing the bell for the manager, the invalid
asked him, when he appeared, if he could tell him
where the music was coming from.

And when he learned that there was a gathering
of Highlanders downstairs, he said, '* I am very
fond of the Pipes. Do you think the piper would
come up, if I requested him, and play me a tune?"

When the Highlanders heard that Sir Henry
Irving — for it was the great actor, and none other,
who lay ill upstairs — craved for a tune, they at once
sent the piper to him. The invalid had his heart's
desire gratified, as that proud functionary, marching
up and down the passage opposite the sick room,
and putting his whole soul into the playing, threw
off in quick succession march, strathspey, and reel.

When the music ceased, Irving called the piper
into his room, and shook hands with him kindly,

88 SOME REMINISCENCES

and thanked him warmly for the treat which he had
given him.

"Sit down beside me," he said, "and I will tell
you a story of the Bagpipe. It was during one of
my first visits to Glasgow that I first heard it. I
was acting in a piece called ' The Siege of Luck-
now,' which was staged on the boards of the old
Theatre Royal in Dunlop Street. The scene was
the interior of the Residency, the outer walls of
which had been battered down almost to the erround.
A group of listless, pale-faced, starving women —
some with little children in their arms — could be
seen listening to Jessie Brown, as she recounted her
dream of the morning to them, and prophesied
assistance at hand ; while outside, keeping the rebels
at bay and waiting calmly for the last assault, stood
a band of soldiers — few in numbers, and wasted with
disease, but still determined.

"At this moment I had to march on to the stage,
and my advance was the signal for the Pipes to
strike up. The piper began to play outside of the
theatre, I think, and advanced slowly into the house,
marching round the back of the stage. The effect
was magical. I shall never forget the wave of
enthusiasm which swept over that great audience,
as the first notes of the Pipe fell upon their ears —
the Highlanders were coming ; Jessie's dream was
answered ; and Lucknow was relieved. I have loved
the Bagpipe ever since."

I do not pretend to give the exact words of the
story which Sir Henry Irving told to the piper, nor

Two Specimens of Irish Stocks with Regulators
AND Drones.

The one on the left hand of the picture presented by Mr David Glen,

of Edinburffh.

By this ingenious arrangement the drones and regulators are brought within
easy reach of the bellows arm.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 89

could I expect to rival his eloquent manner of
telling it, but I have given the gist of it correctly
as told me by the piper.

Having finished his story, Sir Henry once more
complimented the piper on his playing, and well he
might, for the player was one of the best in Scot-
land, and a champion of champions. But not
content with this — ah ! kind heart now at rest ! — he
pressed upon his acceptance at parting a handsome
Sfolden souvenir in remembrance of the occasion.

Here was a man most delicately attuned to har-
monies of all sorts, to harmonies in colour as well
as in sound, asking of his own free will for a tune
on the great Highland Bagpipe at a time too, when
mere noise would be intolerable.

In 1901 I happened to be in Camp at Barry with
the Stirlingshire Volunteers. I there had the
pleasure of meeting with Dr Anderson of Arbroath,
who was acting as Brigade Surgeon. We soon
became very great friends, and one day he told me
that he was very fond of music of all sorts, but that
the violin was — if I remember aright ? — his favourite
instrument. Nothing, however, moved him so
strongly, he said, as a Highland lament on the
Bagpipe. I had many opportunities during the
pleasant month I spent in camp of verifying his
statement ; because when he found out that I was a
little bit of a piper myself, it was a rare day that
did not find the Colonel at my tent in quest of a tune
at midday when the camp was quiet.

There, reclining upon the little bed which served

90 SOME REMINISCENCES

during the day for a couch, he called at his ease for
his favourite piobaireachd, and listened, as he sipped
slowly of the cool deep draught of " Fashoda," that
lay ready to his elbow.

I at first played bright, cheery pieces to him, such
as " Huair mi pog o laimh an Righ " ("I got a
kiss of the King's hand") and " Maol Donn'' (" Mac-
Crimmon's Sweetheart"), or war pieces in keeping
with the camp life around, with the ring of battle
in them, like "The Piobroch of Donald Dhu " and
'' Cath fuathasac, Peairt" (''The Desperate Battle").
But one day he asked me for a Lament, and I gave
him that masterpiece of Patrick Mor MacCrimmon,
'■'■ Cumha Na Cloinne" ("The Lament for the
Children"). When I had got the piece well under
way, I looked round at my companion to see how
he was enjoying the melody. Big tears were
coursing each other down his cheeks. Afraid that
I had recalled some unhappy memories to the old
man, who had hitherto been so bright and cheery,
I ventured to stop playing, when he cried out,
" Go on, go on, never mind my tears, I am enjoying
myself entirely ; I am perfectly happy." After this
I always played my laments to a finish in spite of
tears.

I could give many instances of the attraction the
Bagpipe possesses for the better classes — men and
women, highly-trained in the fine arts, well educated,
and with delicately attuned ears, but space forbids.

It has — I need hardly say — always had an attrac-
tion for the '' masses," a fact which no one denies.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 9I

but on the contrary some writers have used this fact
to its disparagement, as if only the wealthy classes
could enjoy good music.

One little story showing that the masses still love
it will therefore suffice. Early one summer's morn-
ing I was practising in the garden at the back of
the house. A poor widow — a washerwoman — who
was hurrying along to her work heard me, and
stopped for a moment to listen. Just for one little
moment.

The moment lengthened itself out into minutes ;
so, concealing herself behind one of the gate pillars,
where she could hear and not be seen, she remained
rooted to the spot, oblivious altogether of time, and
of the clothes that were waiting to be washed, and
of the angry lady behind the clothes ; and in this
way she lost her engagement for the day rather
than miss one note of the music. '* But I didn't
mind that," she said to a neighbour, who told me of
the circumstance long after; "the music was worth
it." Similar testimony, only multiplied a hundred-
fold, might be produced here, but space forbids,
and it seems to me absurd, with such testimony
before us, to say that the Bagpipe is only for those
who are incapable of appreciating music.

" I have no ear. Mistake me not, reader," writes
Charles Lamb, "nor imagine that I am by nature
destitute of those exterior twin appendages, hanging
ornaments, and (architecturally speaking) handsome

volutes to the human capital I was

never, I thank my stars, in the pillory

92 SOME REMINISCENCES

When therefore I say that I have no ear, you will
understand me to mean — for music."

We are not all so honest to-day as Charles Lamb
was when he wrote the above confession. And I
have more than a suspicion that it is the people
without an ear for music who oftenest sneer at the
Bagpipe, in the vain hope of thus hiding their own
defect.

These people, in short, knowing nothing of music
themselves, have been content to take their opinions
from the scorner, and having no discrimination or
judgment of their own, hug the delusion that the
Bagpipe is a safe **Aunt Sally" for every earless
person to shy at ; or think because they have heard
it called by one who should know better "a barbar-
ous instrument, capable only of making an intolerable
noise," that they, too, may safely pose as hostile
critics of this fine old instrument.

CHAPTER XII.

THE MUSICIAN AND THE BAGPIPE.

" Sympathy is the key to truth — we must love in order to
appreciate.'"

"I"! 7"E may safely assert that lovers of the Bagpipe
during last century, to go no further back,
were to be found among all classes in this country,
from that of the little woman who presided over the
wash-tub to that of the Great Lady who presided
over the Empire's destinies.

Is the Bagpipe then a musical instrument deserving
of the esteem in which it has been held by many
from time immemorial? Or is it only ''a squeeling
pig in a poke," owing its popularity to the caprices
of fashion, and to a corrupt and depraved taste ? As
I take up this subject in another part of the book, it
will be as well to confine ourselves here to one aspect
of the question, which will also be in exemplification
of what was suggested in the last chapter.

To make my meaning perfectly clear, I will put
this matter in the form of a question, and answer
it from my own experience.

94 SOME REMINISCENCES

Is the Bagpipe intolerable to the trained ear?

Now if Ave answer this in the affirmative, then we
must add on to it as a rider, that the Bagpipe is
always mtolerahle to the trained ear.

A further corollary of necessity follows upon this,
viz., The Bagpipe is tolerable only to the untrained
ear ; and if this be the case, then is the Storer type
of critic right, and the rest of the world, including
myself, who differ from him, wrong.

To some ears Bagpipe music is indeed intolerable.
The owners of these too sensitive drums are out of
sympathy with the Bagpipe, and honestly hostile
to it.

For such there is no discoverable tune in the
music : no time, no melody, no rhthym, nothing
but noise.

They cannot love, therefore they do not appreciate.

Other senses are in like manner at times abnor-
mally developed. The touch of velvet is abhorrent
to certain men and women, and makes them shiver.
The colour yellow acts upon an occasional unfortunate
as an emetic.

I know of one medical man who cannot sleep on
a pillow made of a certain kind of duck's feathers
without having an attack of asthma.

And it is a matter of common knowledge to most of
us that a certain number of people cannot tolerate cats.
If one of these keen-scented persons enter a room
where a cat has been he immediately starts to sneeze,
whereupon some superstitious Pagan present cries
out on him, " God bless you."

AND THE BAGPIPE. 95

Many other good things, and useful things, and
beautiful things, are intolerable to certain people,
because they were born with a kink in their insides.
And it would be as unjust to condemn Bagpipe music
on account of one or two hyper-sensitives, as to
condemn all fur and feather and bright colour
because of a handful of cranks.

I wish, however, to speak here only of the normal
ear, whether trained or vmtrained.

'Tis now some twelve years or more since I had
the honour of entertaining Mons. Guillmon, the great
Paris organist, at my house. He had come to open
a new organ in the Falkirk Parish Church, and he
put up with me for the night.

During dinner, Pipe-Major Simpson, an old friend
of mine, played to us in the hall. It was Monsieur's
introduction to the Bagpipe, and he evidently enjoyed
the new sensation, but to the neglect of his dinner,
which grew cold in front of him, as he sat in an
attitude of wrapt attention, while his busy fingers beat
time on the cloth to the different measures. When
dinner was over, he must go out and see the
"Pipes" for himself, and compliment the piper.
He was veritably lost in wonder as he examined
the instrument. It was astonishing ! marvellous !
miraculous! how such ^^ tres bien''^ music could be
got out of so simple-looking an instrument. And
the fingering ! What a time — hundreds of years —
it must have taken to evolve the system of notes
known as warblers ! Then he turned to the piper
and paid him many pretty compliments, and Simpson

96 SOME REMINISCENCES

went home that night proud and happy, with the
words of praise from a brother musician ringing in
his ears.

While I was writing the above, and thinking
kindly of my old friend who had disappeared out of
our ken for many years, and of his many good
parts, I was all unconscious of what was taking
place not many miles away.

In a quiet Glasgow churchyard, a firing squad
from the Maryhill Barracks was standing with
reversed arms by the side of a newly-made grave,
and the bugler was sounding the last post, for the
very man who then filled my thoughts. This was
the sad news that reached me on the following
morning from MacDougal Gillies, of Glasgow, the
famous pibroch player.

Poor Simpson was a great favourite with all of
us, and more especially with my wife. He dis-
appeared from Falkirk many years ago, under a
cloud. It was nothing very serious. He got drink-
ing one evening when entertaining, with his usual
generosity, some sailors from Grangemouth, and
afterwards accompanied them to their ship, which
was on the point of sailing. When on board he
got into a state of profound stupor, and when he
came to himself he was astonished to learn that he
was in Rouen, deserted and alone.

He was proud, and refused to come back to
Falkirk, and to his friends who would have helped
him ; and after a time he was forgotten, but never
by me nor by my wife. He was a modest man for

A French Piper :

Life size, done in stucco, to be seen nt the door of a curiosity shop in Dinon.
Photographed by Miss Risk.

,AiS8<CT>j-.^.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 97

a piper : honest, upright, honourable, generous,
obliging, possessed of a big heart : a soldier every
inch of him, and as handsome a man in the kilt as
ever donned one. '' Requiescat in Pace^

But now to return to my subject ! After dinner,
we went to the church, where Mons. Guilmant,
unaided, kept a large audience spellbound for over
two hours with a marvellous performance on the
organ.

He was an old man, and naturally tired with the
effort, so, after supper, I suggested bed. "Bed!"
said he, *' but I want to hear the piper again."

Now Mons. Guilmant knew no English, and I was
sadly deficient in French. I had therefore some
difficulty in explaining to him that, owing largely
to accident of birth, or, perhaps, to the mislaying of
an important paper, I was not a Highland chief,
with the piper one of . my tail, — although my tale is
one of the piper — that Piper Simpson was an
independent gentleman, as independent as myself,
and a good deal more so, who had come down of
his own freewill to do honour to a brother in the
craft ; and that he was by this time most probably
sound asleep in bed.

To lessen the visible disappointment with which

my guest received this news, I offered to play a

pibroch to him myself. I was but a poor substitute

for the Pipe-Major, it is true, and proposed

judiciously to perform as far away as possible from

him. He would not have me play anywhere but in

the room beside him.

98 SOME REMINISCENCES

The room was small, being only about fifteen feet
square.

And in this way, it came to pass, that I got an
opportunity — no better possible ! — of testing the effect
of the Bagpipe on the trained ear.

Mons. Guilmant did not find it intolerable. On the
contrary, I had great difficulty in satisfying his newly
acquired taste.

With a book of piobaireachd in his hand, he called
for tune after tune, scanning the score of each closely
as he went along, and so kept me playing on into the
small hours of the morning.

The variety given to the music by the introduction
of grace notes enchanted him, and he announced his
determination to write a piece of music for the organ,
in imitation of the Bagpipe, whenever he got back
to Paris.

This must, however, have proved an impossible
task for him — as indeed it is for any musician,
however skilful — for it is well known that the
variation known as Crunluath cannot be put upon
any other instrument than the Bagpipe. At all
events, if the attempt were ever made, the result was
not communicated to me.

Let us now listen to the opinion of one who is not a
musician by profession, but who recounts a somewhat
similar experience of the Bagpipe played in a small
room.

Mr Manson will not object, I hope, to being placed
outside of the musical profession, for the time being
at least. He is a journalist, I believe, but his opinion

AND THE BAGPIPE. 99

is none the less valuable to my argument on this
account. Now, Mr Manson tells the reader, in his
book on the Bagpipe, of how he was once shut up in
a small room, during a Highland gathering in
Glasgow, with a piper, and of the excruciating half
hour he spent there listening perforce to the Bagpipe.
" In five minutes the big drone seemed," so he
writes, "to be vibrating all through my anatomy,
while the melody danced to its own time among the
crevices of my brain. . . It was impossible for me to
take my fingers out of my ears." And all the while —
m.uch-to-be-pitied man — "copy" was waiting to be
done. "Anything more indescribably disagreeable
than that half-hour it is difficult to imagine."

What a contrast in opinion we have here ! Mons.
Guilmant, the great organist — music his life-long
mistress — who could not have the " Pipes" too near,
nor the room too small.

Mr Manson, the literateur, who under similar
circumstances of nearness and loudness, suffers the
"tortures of the damned," as he sits with fingers
glued to his ears, trying in vain to shut out the
tune.

And so when the question is put, " Is the Bagpipe
a musical instrument? " who are we to believe?

Mr Manson, the historian of the Bagpipe, whose
appreciation of it is at times somewhat doubtful ? Or
the charming Frenchman — one of the first musicians
of the day — who listens and admires and has nothing
but praise for this old-world instrument, semi-
barbarous though it be ?

lOO SOME REMINISCENCES

Do not, however, reader, imagine for a moment
that we are recommending the Bagpipe as a fitting
companion in a small room. I say in this book, and
I have said the same thing over and over again in my
lectures, that the Bagpipe, whether engaged in lead-
ing sheep to the green pastures, or men to the battle-
field, was originally an open-air instrument, and in
the form of the pioh mhor at least, is unfitted for
indoors.

But this is a very different thing to saying that it is
not a musical instrument. We listen and admire, or
profess to admire, the great organ with all its stops
out, or the brass band of full complement roaring its
loudest, in a hall that is no larger in proportion for it
than is the small room for the " Pipes."

But in such a detestable climate as ours, if you will
not have piping indoors, then must you do without
it for a greater part of the year.

Now, curiously enough, and this fact that I am
about to mention partly explains and is partly
corroborated by Mons. Guilmant's pleasurable
sensations from the "Pipes" at close quarters, if
the Bagpipe must be listened to indoors, then it is
best heard in a small room and not in a large
hall.

In the former, one's sense of hearing very quickly
accommodates itself to the loudness which just at
first is excessive, and very soon the air comes out
of the hurly-burly full, clear, and steady, while not
a grace note fails to reach the listener's ear.

In the latter, the echo coming back from roof

AND THE BAGPIPE. lOI

and wall, confuses the issue, and the notes trip
each other up as they hurry to and fro, until all
semblance of a tune is lost in the buzzing sound
that reminds one for all the world of the struggles
of an enormous bee in a bandbox.

I am perhaps prejudiced in favour of the Bag-
pipe: I confess indeed that I am. "I love, therefore
I appreciate," and in this way sentiment at odd
times takes the place of argument.

As I have said before, I like modern instruments,
with their improved scale and niceties of expression;
but no modern instrument can recall to me the old
home and the old folk, like the dear old Highland
Bagpipe.

It is always associated in my mind with the kilt,
and the tartan, and the heather ; and the cheery
summery buzz of its drones wakens up within me
sunny memories of the days " When we were boys,
merry, merry boys, when we were boys together."
Of the days when the world was young, and care
was unknown.

When at a wave of the wand Youth, fairy castles
reared their tall heads to the moonlight in the
twinkling of an eye, and brave knights and fair ladies
gaily dressed, sprang to full life and stature like
daffodils at the first breath of spring. When hope
whispered in the murmur of the sea, and in the
sigh of the summer air, and in the silence that lurks
in the deeps of the forest.

When the ** Pipes" spoke to us boys with no
uncertain voice, of the great world that lay beyond

I02 SOME REMINISCENCES

our ken : of its mighty cities and g-orgeous palaces,
full of life and of the heart's desire ; where fame
and fortune, ripe for the plucking, waited upon the
masterful heart and hand at every street corner ;
and love lurked behind every window curtain.

When every tune was like the *' Lost Pibroch "
in Neil Munroe's beautiful story, and indeed urged
us to the road, — the long road, — the straight road,
— the smooth white road, that stretched itself out
through the mountains, to the world's end and
beyond. " It's story was the story that's ill to tell
— something of the heart's longing and the curious
chances of life." " Folks," said the reeds coaxing,
'' wide's the world and merry the road. Here's but
the old story and the women we kissed before.
Come, come to the flat lands, rich and full, where
the wonderful new things happen, and the women's
lips are still to try."

The Magic of the Photograph :

Fairv castles reared their tall heads to the moonlight. "

■^^*.

CHAPTER XIII.

A HIGHLAND INSTRUMENT.

rpO-DAY is the day of trial for the poor Bagpipe.
■*- Its ancient claims are being challenged one by
one. We have already had one example of the
professional critic, who would fain have us believe
that the Bagpipe is not a musical instrument at all.
We are now told that it is not a Highland instru-
ment : the harp is the Highland instrument. It is
not even a Scottish instrument : it is an English
instrument, and never was a favourite with the
Lowlander, and cannot therefore be the national
instrument of Scotland. We are further told, — and
this by a Celt, and quite recently, too, — that it is
not even of Celtic origin ; that we Highlanders took
it from the Lowlander, who in turn borrowed it
from the Anglo-Saxon : all of which is, to put it
mildly, so much ignorant twaddle and tommy-rot.
There is an old and well-known proverb which says
"Jack is as good as his master," and it would be
strange indeed if the critics of the Bagpipe were
limited to those who have a knowledge of music.
A facile pen, and an unscrupulous wit, and a

I04 SOME REMINISCENCES

large ignorance of the subject, give a right to the
owner of these somewhat doubtful qualities to pro-
nounce off-hand an expert opinion on any matter
relating to the Bagpipe or to Bagpipe music. Only
yesterday* there was a letter in the Glasgow Herald
giving an extract from a late number of the Satur-
day Review, which illustrates this well. The date
of the article in the Review is October 24, 1903.
The article is from the pen of its musical critic, and
continues as follows: — "Of all the faculties known
to me the most wondrous I have observed is that
which enables a person to appreciate Scottish music,"
— poor man, and we are supposed to be living in
the twentieth century! — "and to tell the difference
between one tune and another. To be more exact,
until lately I recognised only two Scotch tunes —
one quick, lively, jerky, undignified ; the other
mournful and slow. In dances it is the negation
of any dignity of movement, and in songs it
becomes a mere squeal. The instruments on which
Scotch music is performed are three — viz., the
human voice, fiddle, and the Bagpipes. Of these
the Bagpipes is by far the most horrible. There is
no music in its empty belly."

All the three Scotch (?) instruments are evidently
horrible to this cheap penny-a-liner : the Scotch
voice, the Scotch fiddle, and the " Scotch " Bagpipe,
but of the three ' ' the Bagpipes (sic) is by far the
most horrible." In its empty belly there is indeed

* This chapter was written on the 9th January, 1904.

AND THE BAGPIPE. IO5

no music, but I forbear to press the point : it is too
patent.

Could we have a better example of the facile pen,
and the unscrupulous wit, and the vast ignorance?
Only a month or two since, a Scots lassie, a real
Falkirk Bairn — with a "Scotch" voice, I presume
— was sent for by Royalty to come and sing" to it
"The auld Scotch sangs." But an hundred such
incidents would make no difference to this scribbler,
who mixes up " Scotch " and Highland matters in
delightful fashion, and finds nothing good in either.
"Write me down an ass," said Dogberry: and the
breed is evidently not yet extinct.

In the same number of the Glasgow Herald there
is a second letter, in which the writer, Mr W. H.
Murray, asserts that the Bagpipe is not our national
instrument. "It is time," he says, " that the notion
that the Bagpipe is the national instrument of Scot-
land were exploded. It has never held that place
in the Lowlands, and the clarsach (harp) is much
older in the Highlands. True the clarsach was
supplanted by the Pipe," etc.

Now it is not true that the harp is older than the
Pipe in the Highlands, or at least we have no proof
that such is the case ; nor was the harp ever sup-
planted by the Bagpipe. The Bagpipe was the
shepherd's instrument, the instrument of the poor
and illiterate, and it therefore remained for centuries
unnoticed in the Highlands ; the harp was the bard's
instrument, the instrument of the cultured and the
powerful, and it was taken notice of from its first

I06 SOME REMINISCENCES

appearance : and if the bard and the harp disappeared
the Bagpipe was not to blame : but I will take Mr
Murray's assertions and answer them in inverse order.
He says, "the clarsach was supplanted by the Pipe."
What authority has he for this statement ? It would
be truer to say that the clarsach for a time usurped the
place of the Pipe. The harp was an innovation in
the Highlands at a time when the Bagpipe although
of native growth was still only a pastoral instrument,
rude, and feeble, and not worthy of mention by the
historian, ill suited to the cultivated ear, and all unfit
for war as it then was. The bards were the travelled
people in those days, and to them the introduction
of the harp is due. They picked it up in the South
during their travels and retained it, because they found
it of great service as an accompaniment to the voice
in their incantations or recitations. Its use spread
down to the people from the bards, not up from the
people to the bards, and I suppose — at least George
Buchanan says so — it became popular for a time
with the common people, and then declined, not
through its usurpation by the Pipe, but because
it was quite unfitted to the genius of a warlike race.
The old Highlander looked upon it with contempt ;
he called it a Nionag's or maiden's weapon, and
considered its strings fit only for the sweep of feeble
fingers. It is an Anglo-Saxon weapon with an
Anglo-Saxon name, and it is not at all likely that
the proud Celt would adopt his hated enemies'
instrument, and make it into the national instru-
ment of the Highlands, preferring it to his own native

AND THE BAGPIPE. lO/

Pioh. The name harp is the old English or Anglo-
Saxon hearpe and hearpa. In Gaelic there are two
words that denote the harp : Cruit^ which is just the
British crowd or cruth, and the Welsh c^-wth, a
kind of fiddle that was played upon with a bow,
but without the neck of the modern fiddle ; and
clarsach, a name evidently given to it from the
appearance of the sounding board, clar in Gaelic
meaning a plank, a lid, a trough.

If the Highlander had invented the harp he would
have given it an original or root-word name, and
would not have gone to Saxondom for a title. But
this he has not done. The harp also was in universal
use among the Anglo-Saxons from the earliest
times. It was the minstrel's weapon par excellence.
Early in the 9th century, Alfred the Great, with
harp in hand, penetrated the camp of the Danes
and learned their secrets, which he turned to good
account in the battle which followed. And later on
the compliment was returned by the Danes, when
one of their leaders entered the British camp dis-
guised as a harper, and picked up much valuable
information from the unsuspecting Britons. But
nearly four hundred years before this incident in
the life of Alfred the Great, the very same method
was adopted by the enemy during the siege of
York to get news to the besieged, who were on the
point of surrendering, as the British had cut off the
water supply, and the food supply was all but run
done. The leader's brother, disguising himself as a
harper — we are told that be shaved his head, and

I08 SOME REMINISCENCES

put on the minstrel's cloak on this occasion — passed
unsuspected through the besiegers' lines, beguiling
the simple soldiers with many songs to the accom-
paniment of the harp. All day long he sang his
way nearer and nearer to the fosse surrounding
the doomed city. When night fell he changed his
tune ; was recognised by his friends inside the
beleaguered town ; by means of ropes he was drawn \
up over the walls, and the news which he brought
of reinforcements at hand saved the city.

The fiddle also, like the harp, is an Anglo-Saxon
instrument, invented by an English Churchman, and
called by him a fithele. It was from England that
the fiddle spread to other countries. The Norman
tongue could not get round this word, and so they
called it fiel or viel, which is just the modern viol,
with its diminutive violin.

The Bagpipe, on the other hand, is a Celtic
instrument, with a Celtic name — Pioh-Mhalaidh
( Pioh and Mala) ; and it seems strange, to say the
least of it, that the Highlanders, a Celtic people should
be denied having any art or part in the invention
of this, their favourite instrument ; one, too, which
they alone have brought to perfection, and which they
alone can play artistically by means of a system of
fingering as original as it is effective, and so subtle
that it must have taken hundreds and hundreds of
years to evolve out of the rude fingering of the
past, and make into the fine art which it now is.
And, further, is it not passing strange that these
same Celts should be accused of borrowing this

AND THE BAGPIPE. IO9

" military weapon " with the Celtic natne from the
Sassenach. It is difficult to carry the absurd any
further, but it has been done ! We are bravely
told by one learned Highlander — alas, that I should
have to write it down ! — who is seated high up in
the temple of music, and who speaks as one having
authority, that the Celt's Bagpipe is not only an
English instrument, but that the English fiddle is
the Lowland Celt's national instrument. Such reck-
less statements carry their own refutation writ large
on the face of them.

Further proofs of their incorrectness will be given
from time to time, and the claim of the Bagpipe to
be looked upon as a Celtic instrument made good,
which latter will be equivalent to proving that it is
also a Highland instrument, and not one merely
borrowed by the Highlander.

While the Bagpipe of to-day then is thoroughly
Highland in character, it is also — as I hold — the
only distinctive musical instrument which Scotland
possesses, or which Scotsmen all over the world —
be they of Highland or of Lowland origin — can
justly and proudly claim as their own.

Now, what constitutes a national instrument?

Firstly. It must be distinctive of the nation
using it.

Secondly. It must be recognised by other nations
as the national instrument.

Thirdly. It must be, and must have been for a
long time, a general favourite with the people, and
be in general use. I use the word people here

no SOME REMINISCENCES

advisedly, because it is from the people : from the
shepherd and the plough-boy, and not from the
lordlings who rule it over us for a day, that all
national musics have sprung.

Fourthly. It must be the invention of the race
using it, and not merely borrowed from some other
nation.

Fifthly. In order to attain this position of
national instrument, it must be in consonance with
the character and the aspirations of the race.

Sixthly. It must have assisted largely in shaping
out the national music by impressing upon it its
own peculiarities. I could name other characteristics,
but these will suffice for my purpose here. Let us
test by means of the above the three musical in-
struments which have been put forward for national
honours.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BAGPIPE, THE NATIONAL INSTRUMENT.

" That the Englishmen had their supporters was shown by the
cheer that went up when the men, all in white, emerged from the
pavilion to the strains of 'The British Grenadiers,' but it was
nothing- to the mighty shout which greeted the Scots, who, led by
pipers, looked in the pink of condition in their Royal blue jerseys." —
Glasgow Evening Times.

" In Scotland the Bagpipe must be considered as the national
instrument." — Dr. MacCulloch.

XTOW, if we apply the tests in the preceding
-•■^ chapter, or any other tests which you may
devise, to each of the three musical instruments
which have been put forward at one time or another
as Scotland's national instrument, we will find that
the Piob-Mhor., or great War Pipe of the Highlands,
is the only one of the three which at all satisfies
the conditions laid down.

It seems to me hardly worth while to go beyond
the first and most important test of all, that "the
national instrument of a country must be distinctive
of the nation using it." Neither the harp nor the
fiddle is in any way distinctive of Scotland. The
harp is distinctive of the Welsh people and of the
Irish flag, but not of the Scottish nation. The

112 SOME REMINISCENCES

fiddle, an Anglo-Saxon invention originally, is now
the property of the whole civilised world, and is
characteristic of no one people. The Bagpipe, how-
ever, stands on a very different footing. It is in
the first place pre-eminently distinctive of the High-
lander, and this is half the argument and more. The
Lowlander is apt to forget that the Highlander is
as much a Scotsman as himself.

What would dear old Scotland be without her
Highlanders? If the glorious records of our High-
land regiments were erased to-morrow from the
book of history, would not the tale of the years
that have fled be shorn of much of its glory so far
as we Scotsmen are concerned ? But to most Low-
land Scotsmen also, the Bagpipe is the national
instrument. This is "the generally accepted"
notion, according to Mr Murray, and, if due to
ignorance, as he asserts, then, indeed, is the ignor-
ance very widespread throughout the British Empire,
and shared in by every European nation. When I
put the question to people in the South, "What is
our national instrument?" the almost invariable
answer is, " Why, of course, the Bagpipe ! "
Occasionally, the fiddle is put forward in hesitating
fashion : the harp never.

Take the heading at the beginning of this chapter.
It is an ordinary cutting taken from one of the
evening papers, and begins a plain matter-of-fact
account of the 1904 International Rugby Football
match, played at Inverleith, when the champions of
the Rose and the Thistle met in friendly rivalry.

AND THE BAGPIPE. II3

To the old football player the words, though
simple, conjure up the scene as real as when it
spread itself out before his delighted eyes on that
most glorious of days. The scene is an animated
one. The grey metropolis of the Forth is looking
its brightest. Twenty to thirty thousand people,
gathered from all parts of Scotland, are there to
watch the game. The peer rubs shoulders with
the peasant : the lady of high degree with the shop
girl. Every class in the community has its repre-
sentatives in evidence at this great gathering.
Doctors of Divinity, Doctors of Law, Doctors of
Medicine, are here mixing freely with the humble
city clerk, and the tidy apprentice and the rough
labourer ; while the blacksmith fresh from his forge,
and the pitman, still grimy from his underground
labours, help to swell the throng. Here, too, you
see the medical student, not always ''sicklied o'er
with the pale hue of thought," giving the tip to his
Professor : that dreaded examiner ! who to-morrow,
perhaps, will send the poor devil down for another
term, to do a little and much-needed further study
on the bones. Presiding over all, is the Goddess
of Youth and Beauty in the shape of crowds of
gaily-dressed, sweet-faced, bright, healthy-looking,
chattering girls, whose presence lends a fresh charm
and a delightful picturesqueness to an already
charming scene. Scotland's pride of nationality
runs high on such an occasion, and she rightly
puts all distinctive traits in the foreground.

As the time of the contest draws near, a feeling

114 SOME REMINISCENCES

of suppressed excitement spreads through the crowd,
interfering with the smooth flow of speech. Questions
are put and answered in monosyllabic jerks. Every
head is turned instinctively towards the pavilion, and
watches are anxiously scanned. And when on the
stroke of the hour the Englishmen appear in
spotless white, headed by a brass band, playing
*'The British Grenadiers," a great cheer rises from
the mighty throng. But this cheer, although hearty,
is as nothing to the roar of welcome which greets
the lads in blue — the lads who are destined, ere the
day is over, to carry the Scottish colours once more
to victory ! — as they march on to the field, headed
by Pipers. The team is entirely composed of Scots-
men, I presume — Highland and Lowland — and con-
tains the pink of Scotland's players. The occasion
is international and historic. The assembly of on-
lookers is representative of Scotland at its best.
Why, then, if the Bagpipe is not the national
instrument, should it be chosen to lead the Scottish
team on to the field on this great day ? Why
should it's stirring notes rouse the enthusiasm of
the multitude? Try and imagine the effect a fiddler
or a harper at the head of the dark blues would
have upon the crowd? It would then set them
jeering, not cheering. The manly, the heroic, the
picturesque, associated as these are with the kilt
and the Bagpipe, would disappear with the dis-
appearance of the Piper. The harper, of course,
could not even march with the team ; he would
have to hurry off in advance, to the middle of the

AND THE BAGPIPE. II5

field, and, sitting down upon his three-legged stool,
draw the players to him, as if by hypnotism, or
magnetism, or other necromantic ism ; a spectacle
fit only to excite gods and men to laughter !

It is the "generally accepted" opinion — Mr
Murray concedes this much — that the Bagpipe is
Scotland's national instrument.

To shew how true this is, allow me to quote
shortly from the public speeches of two Scotsmen —
Lowlanders, not bigoted, prejudiced Highlanders —
and delivered before two very different audiences on
two very different occasions.

Colonel R. Easton Aitken, a well-known Scotsman,
who puts in no claim to be called a Highlander, and
is so far at least unprejudiced in his opinions on the
Bagpipe, was presiding this year at the distribution
of prizes in connection with the Glasgow School of
Music. In opening the proceedings he said, " Most
of you probably know more about music than I do,
but as a Scotsman I claim to be a member of a
musical nation which has given to the world songs
which have become more than national. We also
possess a very distinctive form of music, regarding
which a certain difference of opinion is held. / refer
to the Bagpipe, but granted that those who differ as
to its being the national instrument are right ! still
it has proved itself a very stimulating military in-
fluence, and I have no doubt that the Scottish
nation at large is proud of the Bagpipe and all
the memories it conjures up."

Now it is easy to read between the lines, and to

Il6 SOME REMINISCENCES

know which side of the controversy — if it can be
called a controversy — the gallant Colonel takes. His
heart is with the Bagpipe. He has listened to it in
camp and on the battlefield, and to him, as to so
many other Scotsmen, it is the one very distinctive
form of Scottish music.

The "certain difference ot opinion" here men-
tioned probably refers to Mr Murray's letters, which
appeared in the Glasgow Herald shortly before the
Colonel made his speech.

Now the Colonel, being evidently a modest man,
and not wishing to express himself too strongly
upon a musical point before a gathering of musicians,
gave too much weight to the certain difference of
opinion, which was then being aired in the Press.
"That those who differ as to its being the national
instrument are right," I would not grant for one
moment. But then I am a Highlander, and pro-
bably biased, and also on this particular subject I
have found the best informed musicians to be as
ignorant as the man in the street, for the very
simple reason that the Bagpipe is never mentioned
in lectures. It has been systematically ignored by
the learned as a rude and barbarous instrument,
unworthy of their notice, and its history has yet to
be written. The opinion of the expert, therefore,
on the Bagpipe is of no special value, because it is
without knowledge. The Pipe itself is, however,
in evidence wherever a band of Scotsmen fore-
gather ; and this is to me one of the best proofs of
its national character, and of the estimation in

AND THE BAGPIPE. II7

which it is held, notwithstanding any amount of
learned — or unlearned — dissertation to the contrary.
In illustration of what I mean, take the St. Andrew's
Day Celebrations in London this year as reported
in the Scotsman newspaper. Lord Rosebery was in
the chair, and made one of those delightfully racy
speeches which become the social function so well,
but which I refer to later on. ''The assemblage" —
I quote from the report, — "which numbered between
three hundred and four hundred, might be described
as a sort of miniature ' Scotland in London.' A
considerable proportion of those present were in
Highland costume. Around the walls were hung
numerous clan banners, and the skirl of the Bag-
pipes {sic) was heard at frequent intervals in the
course of the evening." Now, what gave this great
and representative gathering, in the eyes of the
newspaper correspondent, its distinctively Scottish
character? Why, we have it in his description of
the meeting. It was the Highland leaven that
leavened the whole lump. Without the Bagpipe,
and the kilt, and the clan banners on the wall, and
the haggis — we must not leave out the haggis,
"Great Chieftain o' the Puddin-race " — the meeting
would be as any other meeting of Britishers.

And as at home, so abroad, only more so. To a
Scotsman landing on a foreign shore the sound of
the Bagpipe is at once cheering and inspiriting.
As its first strains fall upon his ears, the cry of
"Scotland for ever!" rises to his lips. He feels
that he is among friends, and not so far from

Il8 SOME REMINISCENCES

home after all ; this is irrespective of the tune
altogether.

The fiddle, unless playing some well-known
melody, can convey no such sensation. Nor can
the harp.

Speaking at Rockhampton on June 3, 1896, where
he was the guest of the Scotsmen of that town, — no
distinction here between Highland Scot and Low-
land Scot, although there was a Mac in the chair !
— men grow wider in their views by travel, — Lord
Lamington, the newly - appointed Governor of
Queensland, and a man who cannot be accused of
being either a Highlander or prejudiced, said, " I
rejoiced on landing here to see well-known Scottish
dresses, and also to hear the sound of the Pipes.
(Applause.) Yesterday morning, I think it was, or
the day before, I had occasion to thank those who
gave that pleasantest of music to my ears from the
balcony of this hotel. Some rather irreverent person
in the street made a jeering remark. I do not
know what it is to most people, but I know
this — / -would rather hear the Pipes than any other
instrument. Many a time, when in London, have I
dashed down one street and up another to cut off
perhaps some regiment marching to the sound of
the Pipes. . . . Whilst others may prefer such
airs as those to be heard at the opera, I can only
say, in my opinion, that in everything the beautiful
is strictly allied with the useful. And I maintain
that the Pipes have done more strictly useful work
in this world than any other instrument. (Applause.)

AND THE BAGPIPE. 1 19

Where the Highland bonnets have gone forward —
whether at Alma, whether in India, — if there has
been a pause in the rush, it has been the piobrach
which has rallied these Highland regiments, and
enabled them to distinguish themselves in the
fierce onslaught on the enemy. (Applause.) Why,
there is hardly a war, however small, in which you
will not see the name of some well-known Highland
or Scottish regiment. The Bagpipe is always to
the front. Therefore I maintain — as we all of us
do, I believe — that we should cherish our national
instrument, which has played a great part in the
history of our country." (Applause.)

Those who differ from us on this point have their
work cut out for them, and should lose no time in
taking their coats off if they are in earnest, and
mean to try and explode "the generally accepted
notion that the Bagpipe is the National Instrument
of Scotland."

It is assuredly the only distinctive musical instru-
ment which we possess, and at the present time, it
deposed from its proud position, there is none other
to take its place.

CHAPTER XV.

THE SCOTTISH BAGPIPE.

VI TE have tried to prove in the preceding chapter
— not unsuccessfully, we hope — that the Bag-
pipe is the only distinctive musical instrument which
Scotland possesses.

Do other nations recognise the Pioh Mhor as
distinctively Scottish, and not as merely Highland?

This is the second test, and is also a very im-
portant one.

At a time when England and Scotland were still
separate nationalities, although under one crown,
Otway, the English poet, who wrote his first play
in 1674, said on one occasion, " A Scotch song ! I
hate it worse than a Scotch Bagpipe."

The Bagpipe was at the zenith of its fame in the
Highlands, and — with the exception of the bellows
pipe — had largely died out in the Lowlands, when
Otway made this spiteful remark. It was the golden
age of the Piper in Skye. Many of our best
Piobaireachd first saw the light there, while every-
where in the Highlands at this time similar music
was being written. We can compose no such fine

The Autlior looks upon this Pipe as the most vahiable in his collection. It
was bought for him hy Mr W. S. Macdonald, of Glasgow, and has a very sweet
lone.

" A Kklic of Waterloo "

Inscribed upon the silver plate is the following : —

" Prize given by the Highland Society of Londcm to John Buchanan, Pipe-
Major to the 42nd or Rl. Highland Regl. — .4djudged to him by tlie Highland
Society of Scotland at Edinburgh, 2olh July, 1802.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 121

music for the Bagpipe to-day as the old pipers
composed in those days, without any seeming effort.
The name of MacCrimmon was familiar as a house-
hold word wherever the soft Gaelic tongue was
spoken, when of Lowland Pipers of fame there were
none, and yet Otway writes of the Bagpipe in his
day as Scotch.

At the battle of Quatre Bras, when the Seventy-
Ninth Highlanders had formed up to receive a
charge of French cavalry, Piper McKay stepped
proudly out of the newly-formed square, and, plant-
ing himself on a hillock, where he could be seen
and heard of all, played that well-known pibroch —
grandest of war pieces — " Cogadh Na Shie," as
unconcernedly as if on parade, with shot and shell
flying all around him. A similar example of piper's
bravery was given at Waterloo, under the eye of
Napoleon himself, who might in all truth have said,
"Ah! brave Highlanders!" instead of "Ah! brave
Scots ! " when he heard the war-pipe sound, and
saw the tartan wave, and witnessed with amazement
his best troops dash themselves in vain against
those thin walls of Highland steel ; but there was
none of that hair-splitting, pettifogging spirit about
this greatest of great soldiers, which some modern
critics display ; those critics who would divide us
into Highland Scot and Lowland Scot, and who
unblushingly assert — or at least insinuate — that the
Lowlander is unwilling to accept any gift which
comes to him with the Highland taint upon it.

To the French Emperor the Bagpipe and the kilt

122 SOME REMINISCENCES

— characteristically Highland both — represented Scot-
land and Scotland alone.

Once again, when Mendelssohn, the great com-
poser, came over to Scotland that he might study
on the spot the native music, he spent three whole
days passing out and in of the old Theatre Royal in
Edinburgh, during a competition that happened to be
going on there, listening to the Bagpipe, because to
him it was the instrument par excellence of Scot-
land ; it was here first, and afterwards in a visit to
the Highlands where he again studied the Bagpipe
amidst its proper surroundings, that he caught the
inspiration for his '■'■Hebrides'''' overture and for his
"Scotch Symphony."

Now as with the English, and the French, and
the German, so with other nations. I have myself
visited many foreign countries, and met with many
different peoples, and the invariable exclamation of
the intelligent foreigner, on seeing or hearing the
Highland Pipe, was ''Ah! Scotch!"

To the educated foreigner, indeed, who often takes
a broader view of our country than we ourselves do,
Highland and Lowland are unknown. There is but
one nation, Scotland; and but one people, the Scottish;
and but one national instrument, the Bagpipe.

We will now glance shortly at the other conditions
laid down before proceeding to the subject proper.
The Bagpipe is the only one of the three instruments
mentioned which was not borrowed from Roman,
Teuton, Angle or Dane, but which has sprung from
the people, and grown with the growth of the nation.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 1 23

The fiddle, as we have said before, — a statement
which we cannot reiterate too often, — was the inven-
tion of an Englishman, a Churchman, who, after a
time, made his home in France, where he ultimately
died, and it is an Anglo-Saxon instrument. It is
only of comparatively recent introduction in the High-
lands, and it never attained any great popularity there.

The harp, also an Anglo-Saxon weapon, was the
one favourite instrument of the minstrel class : a
class far removed from the common crowd. At one
time, indeed, a most exclusive class, proud, haughty,
and reserved : holding itself always in touch with
royalty and aloof from the commonality. It never
was in universal use in Scotland, although for a
short time it may have been fairly common among
the upper classes, especially in the West Highlands.

On the other hand, the Bagpipe is Celtic, like the
people who in Caesar's day inhabited the island from
Land's End to John o' Groats. The little pastoral
pipe of the Celt, made of " ane reid and ane bleddir,"
was in universal use in the Lowlands as well as in
the Highlands at the beginning of the fifteenth
century, as history informs us. The fiddle was only
coming into use at this time in the Lowlands, and
was not much thought of, and in the Highlands it was
practically unknown.

Now, this fact that the Bagpipe was in early use
in the Lowlands, and a favourite with the common
people, is fatal to Mr Murray's argument. "In the
Lowlands," he says, " it never had a footing " — he has
evidently not read "The Complaynt of Scotland," or

124 SOME REMINISCENCES

Studied the old exchequer rolls. He agrees with
Mr McBain of Inverness, who blindly follows
Sir A. C. McKenzie, in the opinion that it came from
England into the Highlands, but evidently thinks
— in opposition to McBain — that // skipped the
Lowlands on its way thither. Mr McBain tells us,
indeed, that it came into the Highlands directly from
the Lowlands^ where it had been in use for a hundred
years and more, before the Highlanders knew
anything about it. Who are we to believe ? The
simplest way to get over the difficulty is to believe
neither party, as both are hopelessly at sea on this
question. The Pipe did not come from England into
Scotland ; it was the common property of the Celt in
England, and in Ireland, and in Scotland, in the
early centuries, and did not require to be borrowed
by the one from the other.

In " The Complaynt of Scotland," a book written
in the southern Lowland dialect in 1548 or early in
1549, the names of the musical instruments and of the
dances then in vogue are given, and the two first
instruments on the list are two Bagpipes of different
species. This alone, without any further proof, marks
its popularity in the Lowlands. The fiddle, which
Sir A. C. McKenzie would force upon us as a national
instrument, is mentioned only seventh on the list, and
the poor harp, which Mr Murray gives precedence
to over the Bagpipe, is not recognised at all.

We have historical proof that the Bagpipe was
well known in Scotland while the twelfth century
was still young, and if we cannot give written proof

AND THE BAGPIPE. 1 25

of a Still earlier use, it is because there is no earlier
history of Scotland written. Where history fails
common-sense steps in, and tells us that it must
have taken centuries to evolve out of the simple
Pipe of '* ane reid and ane bleddir " the rich full-
toned Pipe that played at the Court of King David,
and delighted the ear of many an old warrior, grim
and stern, who had won his spurs on the field of
Bannockburn, and that it was also first known in
its simpler form to the humble shepherd — the only
solace, indeed, of his lonely vigils — centuries before
the first Scottish historian was born.

This little pastoral Pipe, however ; this little Pipe
of one reed, had become as early as the reign of
King David — and probably much earlier — the Great
Pipe, worthy of the historian's notice : the now
famous War-Pipe of the Highlander, and was then
— and then only — able to voice the feelings of a
warlike race. It is in truth the greatest war instru-
ment which the world has ever seen. To-day it
stands pre-eminent on the battlefield, where it first
became famous, and there such feeble-voiced instru-
ments as the fiddle and the harp — its two great
rivals — cannot be compared with it for one moment.
But, lastly, the Bagpipe has assisted largely in
forming the distinctive music of the country —
Scotland's national music. Without the Bagpipe
what would Highland music be? As other music.
And without Highland music what would there be
to distinguish Scottish music from English, or
French, or German? The ''characteristic Lowland

126 SOME REMINISCENCES

Scotch music " would still be Lowland Scotch no
doubt, but without the characteristic.

Mr Murray says, " My principal object in writing
was to protest against the generally accepted view
that the Bagpipe is the national instrument. Whilst
the Highlander adopted it and made much of it, in the
Lowlands it never had a footing ^ We have already
shown that the Highlander did not adopt it, and
that it had more than a footing in the Lowlands —
where it was, indeed, the principal or favourite
musical instrument with the peasantry for hundreds
of years — even as early as the fourteenth century.

" Our wealth of Scottish folk-music," he continues,
" has no affinity with the Bagpipes (sic), and very
many of these old airs were sung in our Scottish
homes, long before the Bagpipe found its way from
England to the Highland hills and glens, ^^

Again the same false assumption, for which there
is not one jot or tittle of proof, that the Bag-pipe
came from England. The Bagpipe did not come
from England ; and Scotch folk-music has many
affinities with Pipe music. Will Mr Murray give to
the world the name of a single tune from his
"Wealth of Scottish Folk -Song" that can be
traced as far back as, say 1365, when the Pipe was
already fashionable at the Scottish Court, and the
Piper ranked high among the members of the
king's household? "Hey Tutti Tuiti," said by
tradition to have been Bruce's march at the
Battle of Bannockburn, is undoubtedly an ancient
tune, and I believe it to be as old as tradition says,

AND THE BAGPIPE. I27

but then it is a Bagpipe tune. The oldest part-song
in the world also is formed on the same model, and
has a drone bass in imitation of the Bagpipe. It is
an English song, and is called " Sumer is icumen
in," and dates from about 1250. What Scottish
folk-song can be traced as far back as 1250?

That the oldest songs in both countries should be
so largely influenced by the Bagpipe is not to be
wondered at, when we remember that the Pipe was
a general favourite in England as well as in Scot-
land at a time when song-making was in its infancy.
It is well to remember here that musical instruments
have always led the human voice, not vice versa,
but while leading they have also from inherent
imperfections and peculiarities of scale, etc., imposed
limits, thus giving a distinctive character to the
songs of the people. This is most marked in
countries like Scotland, where in the early days but
one instrument predominated. Its influence can be
traced most clearly in Highland song, where the
singer, like the piper, skips or slurs certain notes
in the scale, irrespective of the character of the
theme. It is the same,

"In solemn dirg-e, or dance tune gay,
In sad lament, or joyous roundelay,"

and it is difficult to understand on what grounds

Mr Murray denies its influence in Scottish music.

** In point of fact," he says with an air of authority,

"but very few of the airs of even the Gaelic songs

can be played on the Pipes. . . . The timbre

of the Pipe makes the instrument impossible as an

128 SOME REMINISCENCES

accompaniment to the voice, and its use all through
has been unconnected with vocal music." Now,
while the Great Highland Bagpipe is the proper
accompaniment on the battlefield to the noise and
din of warfare, it was never intended to be an
accompaniment of song, and no sane writer has ever
said so ; but it is only one of many Pipes, and of
these others several go well to the human voice.
At a lecture given by me this winter I had a choir
boy — with a rare gift of voice — who sang that
beautiful Christmas hymn, " Hark, the Herald
Angels Sing," to the accompaniment of the
Northumbrian Bagpipe, and the timbre of the Pipe
and the timbre of the little singer's voice were in
perfect unison. The French Mussette is another
Bagpipe which goes well with the human voice ; so
that it is not correct to say that "its use all through
has been unconnected with vocal music." Hundreds,
nay ! thousands of French Bagpipe songs were in
existence once, and may be yet for all I know.
And as to the bold statement that "but very few of
the airs of even the Gaelic songs can be played on
the Pipes," the exact opposite is the truth. Very
many of the old Gaelic songs go excellently well
upon the Pipes in the disguise of march, reel, and
strathspey, while practically all Piobaireachd — the
real music of the Pipe — is vocal.

But as this subject — the influence of the Bagpipe on
Highland music — is a large and an interesting one,
it will require a chapter to itself.

CHAPTER XVI.

BAGPIPE INFLUENCES AT WORK.

TN 1819, Dr. MacCulloch published his book called
'■' "A Description of the Western Islands of
Scotland." That he was prejudiced against the
Highlands and things Highland, is to be seen on
many a page of his book. When therefore he
speaks favourably — which he seldom does — of such
matters as Highland music and the Bagpipe, his
opinions can be accepted unreservedly.

At one time, he tells us, that according to report
St. Kilda was famous for its music. The learned
doctor found nothing to justify this reputation when
he paid a visit to the island, there being neither
Bagpipe nor violin in the place. His search here
and elsewhere, however, led him into a learned dis-
sertation on Scottish music, which is becoming to
our argument at this stage.

" The airs which are recorded as originating in

this place," he says, "are of a plaintive character;

but they differ in no respect from the innumerable

ancient compositions of this class which abound in

the Highlands." These are interesting, ^^ as they

130 SOME REMINISCENCES

appear to he the true origin of that peculiar style of
melody for which Scotland is celebrated.'''' The
" Highland airs of acknowledged antiquity " he
divides into two classes. " Pibroch, a distinctive
class by itself, similar to nothing in any other
country ; and airs of a plaintive nature often in a
minor key. The more ancient appear to have con-
sisted of one strain only : the second strain so often
found attached to them at present is generally a
recent addition ; wandering commonly through a
greater extent of the scale, and not often a very
felicitous extension of the same idea. In some cases
these airs appear to be purely instrumental ; in
others they are attached to poetry and song by the
milkmaid at her summer sheiling, or the cowherd
on the green bank. One peculiar circumstance
attends nearly the whole, namely, that they equally
admit of being played in quick time. Thus they are
often also the dancing tunes of the country." In
another place he says, " In Scotland the Bagpipe
must be considered as the national instrument. By
this instrument the characters of these melodies seem
to have been regulated, as they appear to have been
composed on it. In examining all the most ancient
and most simple they will be found limited to its
powers, and rigidly confined to its scale. The
pathetic and the lively, the pastoral airs of the
Tweed, and even the melodies of the Border, thus
equally appear to have been founded upon the
Bagpipe."

'' It will often, indeed, be found that the same

AND THE BAGPIPE. I3I

air which is now known as a Lowland pathetic
composition is also a Highland dancing tune."

" To the peculiar limited powers of the Bagpipe
therefore must probably be referred the singularities
which characterise the national melodies of the
Highlands. On that instrument they appear to
have been first composed, and by that has been
formed the peculiar style which the voice has
imitated. In no instance, indeed, has the human
voice appeared to lead the way in uttering a melody
or the ear in conceiving one. They follow at a
distance that which was originally dictated by the
mechanical powers and construction of the instru-
ments which have been successively invented."

These are the opinions of an acute and accurate
observer, formed on the spot, and at a time when
the materials out of which to form a correct judg-
ment were more plentiful.

I have not yet ventured to quote any expert's
opinion on the Bagpipe as a musical instrument,
which may seem strange. But, as a matter of fact,
the average trained musician knows as much or as
little about the "Pipes" as the man in the street.
This is not his fault, indeed, as I mentioned before,
but is due to the fact that the Pipe is seldom, if
ever, mentioned in lectures on music, and is almost
entirely ignored in musical text-books.

When, however, it comes to the question of what
influencies were at work in the formation of our
national music, then is an expert's opinion of the
greatest of value.

132 SOME REMINISCENCES

Now, Mr Hamish M'Cunn, than who no better
judge of Scottish music exists at the present day,
working along the same lines as Dr. MacCulloch
— who you will see I am not putting forward as an
expert — comes to much the same conclusion as
the learned doctor. He acknowledges the large
influence which the Bagpipe wielded over High-
land music, and the preponderating influence
which the latter exerted in the formation of our
national music : with which conclusions I also am
in agreement, but would substitute " Bagpipe
music" for "Highland music," as it is surely
unwise to ignore the influence of the Bagpipe on
the Lowlander during the long centuries when it
was with him too, the favourite musical instrument.
Years of piping in the Lowlands must at least have
prepared the soil for the Highland seed that was
one day to fall there, and root, and flourish, and
blossom into the glorious harvest of national song.

The influence of the Bagpipe in the Highlands
in days of old is undoubted : pibroch is its real
business, as MacCulloch says, and all ancient
pibroch is vocal as well as instrumental. " Pibroch
of Donald Dhu," "Macintosh's Lament," " Mac-
leod of Macleod's Lament," " I got a kiss of the
King's hand," " My King has landed in Moidart,"
'' Bodach Nam Brigais," " Patrick Og M'Crimmon's
Lament," " Cha till MacCruimein," "The Piper's
Warning to his Master," are all well-known songs,
and the very flower of pibroch. The influence of
the pibroch was so great indeed in early times that

AND THE BAGPIPE. I33

the poet wrote his sonnet to its changing measures.
'' Ben Dorain," a Gaelic poem written by Duncan
Ban M'Intyre in the eighteenth century, is one of
the last and one of the best examples of this style
of Highland composition. One of the earliest is
the *' Lay of Arran " by Cailte, the Ossianic bard.
The ancient Erse composition known as " Chredhe's
Lament," is, I believe, another, from which I take
the liberty of quoting a few lines.

The haven roars, and O !

The haven roars,
Over the rushing race of Rinn-da-bharc !
Drowned is the warrior of Loch-da-chonn.

His death the wave mourns on the strand.

Melodious is the crane, and O !

Melodious is the crane,
In the marshlands of Druin-da-thren ! 'tis she
That may not save her brood alive: the gaunt wolf grey.

Upon her nestlings, is intent,

A woeful note, and O !

A note of woe,
Is that with which the thrush fills Drumqueens vale !
But not more cheerful is the piping wail !

The blackbird makes in Letterlee,

A woeful sound, and O !

A sound of woe,
Rises from Drumdaleish, where deer stand moaning low!
In Druim Silenn, dead lies the soft-eyed doe:

The mighty stag bells after her.

This lament, which I have arranged in metre
form, as it falls naturally into it, is to be found in
the "Book of Lismore."

134 SOME REMINISCENCES

It is a lament for Gael, Crimthan's son, who was
overtaken one day by the quick-rising storm, and
sucked under by the swirling seas.

To the writer's Celtic imagination, the mournful
booming of the surf on the shore is but the wave's
solemn requiem over the white body which lies
entangled in the wrack beneath, tossing idly to-
and-fro, with the swing of the restless waters.

This is the whole story : a lover overtaken by
the fate that ever follows closely on the heels of all
such as ''go down to the sea in ships," and the
tumultuous sea — the instrument of a cruel fate —
mourning over its own handiwork.

And this story or theme, told in a few simple
words, is repeated, like the '■^ iirlar''' or groundwork
of a pibroch, at least twice in the middle of the
poem, and once again before the lament comes to
a close.

And here, too, as in pibroch, there are no pre-
liminary trivialities : the teller puts his whole story
into a nutshell, so to speak. True, there are em-
bellishments— the variations of the pibroch — but
these follow after and are rounded up, once and
again with the one essential : the sea mourning
over its dead. There also runs through this tale of
woe, like a golden thread, the sympathy of nature
for man in distress. The story opens abruptly to
the accompaniment of the noisy sea, calling aloud
in anguished voice at the catastrophe which has
overtaken Cael.

"The haven roars, and O! the haven roars,"

AND THE BAGPIPE. I35

and it is with the sound of angry waters in our
ears, as the foaming waves plunge along the
weather-beaten shore, that we reach the end of the
tale, and rising, close the book, with a sigh for
Credhe the Desolate.

A woeful melody, and O !

A melody of woe
Is that the surges make on Tullacleish's shore
For me, hard-hit, prosperity exists no more,

Now Crimthan's son is drowned.

In this very old and beautiful lament the writer
in her sorrow turns to nature for consolation.

She suffers! but she is not alone in this. Nature
gives her a peep behind the veil, and shews her at
every turning, sorrow keen as her own.

Do not the very waves that have swallowed up
the drowned man mourn his cruel death ? True,
the crane watching over her little brood nestling in
the lonely marshlands makes melody just now, but
her singing will soon be turned into mourning ; for
is not *'the wild dog of two colours intent upon
her nestlings."

Even the merry thrush in Drumqueen woods is sad
as she finds her nest harried ; the tuneful blackbird
wails in Letterlee ; and the hills give back a
thousand echoes to the mournful belling of the stag
bereft of his doe.

There is a great deal of repetition in these old
laments, and alliteration often — I might almost say
always — takes the place of rhyme. Sorrow — the
burden of the story — begins and ends the strain ;

136 SOME REMINISCENCES

and the first line, sometimes even the first word, is
also the last.

This constant repetition, varied only slightly,
gives a length and an apparent sameness in struc-
ture to such pieces, which make them distasteful or
wearisome to the modern reader.

But to the lover of pibroch there can not be too
much variation on one theme : no length is too
great ; and there is a certain charm in what may
be called the recurring sameness of the music, that
has to be felt to be understood.

If any one doubt this, let him make a study of
pibroch for himself, then attend a few of the leading
Highland gatherings : listen to the champions play-
ing some old tune, such as " MacLeod of MacLeod's
Lament" or "The Earl of Antrim's Lament," and
if he does not fall under the spell of pibroch music,
then is there something awanting in him.

Now, if I am correct in thinking that " Credhe's
Lament," like " Ben Doran " and many another of
these old-world poems, is pibroch made vocal, then
at least was this form of music familiar to the Celt
long before the oldest written pibroch of authenti-
cated date which we possess.

And this would explain to some extent the
wonderful completeness of the oldest known pibroch.
There is no hesitancy, no doubt, no amateurishness
about these old pieces, such as one would expect to
meet with in a first attempt, but a roundness, and a
finish, and a perfection of workmanship that is truly
astonishing.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 137

If the Bagpipe, as some say, was introduced into
the Highlands about the fifteenth or sixteenth
century, how are we to account for the early
appearance of pibroch music there? The Macintosh's
Lament was written, it is said, in the sixteenth
century ; M'Leod of M'Leod's was certainly written
in the middle of the seventeenth century, and these
are not the oldest pibroch by any means which we
possess to-day. If the Bagpipe was only introduced
into the Highlands in the end of the fifteenth or
the beginning of the sixteenth century, pibroch,
with its scientific completeness, its complicated
fingering, and its beautiful method of variations —
these variations growing naturally the one out of
the other, the simpler passing by gradation into the
more complex — must in that case have " growed "
with Topsy, and not have been born ; but this is
absurd on the face of it.

It is entirely against the theory of evolution in
things great or small that such marvellous music as
this, so classical in form, so advanced when we
first meet with it, could have sprung to full stature
in one day, or at the bidding of one man.

Pibroch must of necessity have been of slow
growth : the work of plodding musicians for cen-
turies and centuries, as Mons. Guilmant said.

Other countries practising the Bagpipe, yea !
even for thousands of years, have failed to produce
anything like it, or anything worthy of the name of
music.

But when once the foundation had been fairly

138 SOME REMINISCENCES

laid by the continuous efforts of many generations
of Highland Celts, then a creative genius like
M'Crimmon built upon this foundation, and gave
to the world some of the most beautiful and
original pieces of music, with a profusion and a
celerity that seem to us, even to-day, little short of
marvellous.

Now, to-day, although there are more pipers in
Scotland than at any time since the '45, there is no
writer of pibroch among them with whom I am
acquainted.

Nor do I know of a single pibroch written in the
present generation that is worth the playing, or
whose fame will survive the death of its author.

From the middle of the sixteenth to the middle
of the eighteenth century was the golden age of
pibroch. Of what went before we know little ; of
what came after but little need be known.

This gift of the old masters might well, indeed,
be called "the vanishing gift."

CHAPTER XVII.

GAELIC SONG AND THE BAGPIPE.

"XTOW pibroch music, or as the Highlanders call
•'■^ it, " Ceol Mor,'' is essentially Highland.

There is nothing like it in any other country in
the world.

Whatever merits, therefore, it possesses must be
claimed for the Highlander. Under the fierce light
of modern criticism — so called — the Highlander has
had a poor time of it lately.

The kilt has been taken from him, and the tartan
proclaimed a modern fraud, and the Bagpipe has
been held by the same authority to be but a
borrowed instrument — borrowed from England too,
of all places — with nothing Highland about it except
the third or large drone.

But the most rabid hater of the Sons of the Mist
cannot deny their claim to pibroch music.

He may sneer at it, as he has done at everything
else Highland, but he cannot, with all his perverted
ingenuity, father it upon any other race. The
genuine Celtic Highlander alone appreciates it at
its true value, because he alone understands it. It

140 SOME REMINISCENCES

was written for him, and by him, and has always
had for him a powerful fascination. Many of the
tunes are rhymeful and haunting. They get into
the crevices of the brain, and will not be dislodged
nor are they easily forgotten, in after years — you
have got to learn them, once having heard them,
whether you will or not : they dominate the musical
faculty for the time being just as the latest popular
song controls the street boy's whistle, nor do they
ever grow stale.

In the old days there were schools or colleges
throughout the Highlands where piping was taught.
To these resorts, the chief generally, or one of the
leading gentlemen of the clan, sent those youths
who showed a decided talent for the *' Pipes." Here
they were taught all the intricacies of pibroch dur-
ing a course of lessons extending over many years,
by one of the great masters of the art, — by a
M'Crimmon, or a MacKay, or a MacKenzie, or
a MacArthur, as the case might be, — and you may
be sure that after so long an absence from home
their return was looked forward to eagerly by one
and all, from the chief in his castle to the poor
squatter on the black hill.

These young men left their native villages with
perhaps a gift of fingering inherited from a race of
pipers, and able to play tolerably well the simple
airs known in their respective districts, but without
any knowledge whatever of music in general, or of
" Ceol Mor " in particular.

Now, after seven or eight, or even ten of the

AND THE BAGPIPE. I4I

best years of their life had been devoted to the
study of their favourite instrument, they returned
home fully trained musicians, and frequently with a
reputation which had preceded them. They brought
back with them, too, the finest of tunes learned at
first hand from the composers themselves, and
played them in the finest of styles — and how excel-
lent that style was, is known only to a few players
to-day.

The skill acquired at these colleges — as the train-
ing schools were called — and the superior knowledge
of music gained during these years of hard study,
gave the young piper a standing in the clan of
which he was justly proud, and which he seldom
abused. He was looked up to by his neighbours,
and treated by all as a gentleman of parts ; and he
never forgot that he was a musician.

So that it was in no mere idle spirit of boasting,
or in ignorant pride — as the narrator of the story
imagined — that the piper of a regiment at Stirling
once referred to himself, when there was a dispute
as to whether the drummer boy should precede the
piper on the march or not. "What!" he said, "is
that little fellow who beats upon a sheepskin to go
before me, who am a musician ? "

We can understand then how these young pipers,
trained in the best schools, and filled with the
enthusiasm and inspiration of their teachers, exerted
so powerful an influence upon the musical taste of
the people among whom they settled down on their
return.

142 SOME REMINISCENCES

Their piping would be a revelation to the local
players, who would be thus stimulated to further
and better efforts. It would also be a never-failing
source of delight to the listeners at the ceilidh or
evening gathering.

The bard, too, would find in the many new and
beautiful airs fresh inspirations for his muse, and in
this way all the old pibroch tunes also became
vocal.

And if this is true of the ''Great Music" of the
Bagpipe, or Ceol Mor, it is also, but even in a
greater degree, true of the " Little Music," or Ceol
Aotram,

Nearly all the lesser Pipe tunes, whether marches,
reels, or strathspeys, were sung in the old days to
words.

To give a complete list of such would be to fill
pages of this book needlessly.

The names of a few of the better-known songs
composed to Bagpipe airs will not, however, be
out of place. "Tullochgorum," "Highland Kitty,"
" Hech ! How! Johnnie, Lad," "Roderick of the
Glen," "There Grows a Bonnie Briar Bush,"
"Cabar Feidh," " Blyth, Blyth and Merry was
She," "Bonnie Strathmore," "There came a Young
Man," "A Man's a Man for all that," "Scots
Wha Hae " — these last two in spite of Mr Murray's
criticism — " Lochiel's Awa' to France," "Highland
Harry's Back Again," " Kate Dalrymple."

The last three tunes, and indeed nearly all the
others, are to be found in MacDonald's collection

AND THE BAGPIPE. I43

of " Quicksteps, Strathspeys, Reels, and Jigs,"
published about 1806.

It is one of the earliest, if not the very earliest
book of the kind published in Scotland, and I have
taken the tunes from this old book to avoid spurious
or modern imitations.

I happened to play "Roderick of the Glen" — a
tune not often heard now-a-days — on board the
steamer Glencoe when crossing over from Islay last
autumn.

The captain, who was a fine old Highlander,
and — as I soon found out — passionately fond of the
" Pipes," came strolling up, as if by accident, to
where I was playing, and listened gravely. The
tune had an extraordinary effect upon him ; the
tears came unbidden to the old man's eyes, and
turning to me when I had finished, he said quietly,
" Man ! I haven't heard that song since I was a
laddie at my mother's knee : she used to sing me
to sleep with it."

This was good news to me, as letters were
appearing at the time in the Glasgow Herald
denying that Gaelic songs were sung to Bagpipe
tunes, or could be put on the Pipe. I did not
know until then that it was an old lullaby song.
There is nothing in the name to suggest such, and
it is given in the book as a quickstep. True, I
had often played it at social meetings to slow time,
and not as a march, but I had nothing to guide
me in this beyond instinct : and here was Captain
Campbell confirming my intuition.

144 SOME REMINISCENCES

"Did your mother just croon it over to you?"
I said to him.

" Oh I no," he replied. " She sang it to words ;
I can give you some verses of it now, if you would
like to hear them : your playing has recalled them
to my mind."

And he was as good as his word. He sang to
me, as we two stood close together under the storm
deck, the wind the while whistling its accompani-
ment outside, half-a-dozen verses in the dear old
tongue, soft and mellifluous as the tune itself. He
also sang me a beautiful old Gaelic pibroch called
" Ciimha Fear Aros,'^ a lament for the laird of
Aros : a very different tune from the one given in
Caintairacht by MacLeod of Gesto ; resembling
somewhat the Macintosh's Lament, but yet quite
distinct from it.

Let me close this short list of Pipe tunes that are
also songs, with the names of two of the most truly
beautiful and purely Gaelic songs known; two songs
that "are also Pipe tunes." These are ^^Ho! Ro!
Mo Nighean Donn Boidheach'" and '''■Mo Dileas
Donny

So much for Mr Murray's dictum that "very few
of the airs of even the Gaelic songs can be played
on the Pipes."

No one would for a moment dispute his assertion
that the Bagpipe is unfitted as an accompaniment
to the human voice if he means by Bagpipe, the
Great Highland Bagpipe. But there are other
Bagpipes besides it, several of which 1 have in my

The Cuisleagh Cuil of Ireland.

Bought through the late Mr Henderson, Bagpipe Maker. Glasgow.

Inside the green baize cover was found the following unstamped receipt : —

Glasgow, May 23rd, 1843.
" .\rchd. Wilson Bought oft (sic) .Arthur Finnigan, Broker, N i
" Bridge Gate, a Pair Union Pipes Silver Mounted at £;i o o
" sterling.

" Arthur Finnigan. "

AND THE BAGPIPE. I45

collection, and which make very good accompany ists
to the human voice.

The Great War Pipe of the Highlander on the
other hand, as I have said more than once, makes
a good accompaniment to the roar of battle — for
which it was intended — when bullets are flying and
men's patriotism burns brightly : or to the voice of
nature in her wilder moods as heard in the storm
on the mountain side, or in the booming of the
surf by the lone sea shore, or in the roar of the
torrent thundering down the glen.

It is only in a drawing-room instrument, like the
belloivs pipe of England and of La Belle France,
that you can look for and expect to find in the
Bagpipe a fitting accompaniment to the humati voice.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE GLAMOUR OF THE HIGHLANDS.

TN the preceding chapters we have tried to prove that
the "generally accepted view that the Bagpipe
is our National Instrument " is based upon good
sound reasoning and solid fact, and not a mere
fanciful notion to be lightly exploded. We have also
tried to show that the Bagpipe had a large — a
determining — influence upon the character and style
of Highland music. We also gave it as our belief,
that centuries of piping in the South were not thrown
away upon the Lowland Scot, and that to this
influence almost as much as to the Highland airs
finding their way to the Lowlands, was due those
Lowland airs of markedly national character which
so much resemble the Highland ones, that Dr.
MacCulloch and many others supposed them to be
nothing- more nor less than Gaelic airs altered to suit
the southern ear, and not always improved by the
tinkering to which they were subjected. We also
tried to prove — and we hope not altogether in vain —
that pipe-tune and Gaelic song were inextricably
mixed together, the one indeed often passing into the

AND THE BAGPIPE. I47

Other : that the two forms of music were in reality-
interchangeable, so that whether at feast or merry-
making, if by any chance the Piper failed to turn up,
there were always plenty of lads and lassies to sing to
the dancers the live-long night all the well-known
strathspeys and reels, as songs with words.

That, in short, the ''''Port Phiob^'" or Pipe tune,
became the '■'■ Port na Beul,'^ or mouth tune, and
this is the reason why the Free Church, although it
exterminated pretty thoroughly the Bagpipe itself
(let this be written to its discredit), failed altogether
to put down Pipe music ; and why it must fail (if
it is determined to pursue the same evil policy in
the future as it has done in the past), unless it is
prepared also in addition to burning the Pipe and
the fiddle, to cut the throat of every Highland lad
and lassie who can sing the old songs.

For this reason then, — in contradistinction to the
views above quoted, — Gaelic songs, the music of
which was written for the Pipe, and many of which
have not yet reached the Lowlands, are to be heard
here and there throughout the Highlands to-day ;
the one thing left, in a priest-ridden country, to
these simple folks of much that was bright, helpful,
and innocent in the past ; the one thing preserved
to them in this strange way from the tyranny of the
Protestant priest. It is — to our shame be it said —
in the Catholic districts that the old music, and
the old dance, and the old traditions are best pre-
served.

Now the Bagpipe is not the only good thing pre-

148 SOME REMINISCENCES

served from the old days which the Highlander has
presented to his country.

Scotland owes much to its Highlands, and to the
primitive people who live there. It may be honest
ignorance that makes an occasional Lowlander
unwilling to recognise the Highland Bagpipe as
our national instrument ; but there are gifts from
the same source which he cannot avoid accepting,
and for which he should write himself down " Your
most obedient, humble servant," whenever he sees
a Highland face, or hears the Highland accent, or
listens to the tuneful roar of the Great War Pipe.

But for the Highlander the old picturesque dress
would ere now be a thing of the past, and the
Scottish tartan would no longer wave.

The old Aryan speech, too, would have long since
died out — a language which some scholars are now
inclined to think may have been the original Aryan
tongue.

But for the Highlander there would be no national
dance. The reel, or strathspey, is to-day the only
characteristic dance of Scotland.

True, in Shakespeare's time there was a Scotch jig.
He compares " a wooing, wedding, and repenting "
to "a Scotch jig, a measure and a cinque-pace. The
first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and
full as fantastical." But the Scot has long ago for-
gotten all about his own dance, and now he falls
back upon the Highland fling when he wishes to
show something distinctively Scottish to the inquisi-
tive stranger.

AND THE BAGPIPE, I49

Again, visitors from all parts of the world who
come to see Scotland naturally bend their steps to
the Highlands. They, of course, spend some days
in Edinburgh, as being perhaps the most beautiful
city in the world ; and they give the Clyde a
passing visit, not for its generous odours, which it
gives off with too prodigal a hand, but for the
sake of the wonderful industries along its banks ;
and then it is "Ho! for the Highlands."

It is Caledonia — the Scotland of the poets — which
the traveller has come from afar to see.

Sir Walter Scott is on his lips, and in his heart,
as he whispers to himself, when first his eye rests
upon the great mountains,

" O ! Caledonia, stern and wild "

The verv name of Caledonia is taken from a tribe
of Picts who inhabited the country round Loch
Ness, comprising Stratheric, The Aird, and Strath-
glass, a district which is now, and has been for
hundreds of years, the Fraser country and the home
of the Chisholms.

And when the poet, glowing with enthusiasm for
his native land, word-paints it so that others may
see and love it, as he sees and loves it, he seeks
not for inspiration by the banks of the broad
smooth-flowing Clyde, or of the winding Forth, or
of the swift flowing Tay.

He seeks it not in the flat Lowlands teeming
with great cities, nor in the carse lands, rich and
fertile, and beautiful as these may be.

With true poetic instinct his eyes are drawn north-

150 SOME REMINISCENCES

wards. On the wings of his imagination he is away
to the Highlands, that land of poetry and romance,
and he sees as through a golden mist, the birch
glen and heath - covered mountain, and quick-
running streamlet that to-day a child can cross with
safety, and to-morrow is a roaring torrent, uprooting
trees in its fury, and tearing the mighty rock from
its base. And with his heart beating in unison
with the mighty throb of nature's heart, an unerring
instinct leads him to hall-mark Scotland for all
men, and for all time, as the

" Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood."

The glamour that the Highlands has cast over Scot- 1
land's sons is well seen in tiie case of the Scot abroad.

The home- sickness which affects him is but
natural, and is shared by the exile from other
countries. But the craving for the tartan and the
Bagpipe which characterises the exiled Scot, whether
he be a Highlander or a Lowlander, is most pro-
nounced, and is seldom or never absent. In
Johannesburg, on Burns' Night this year, as in
past years, we expected — and our expectations were
realised — to see cockie-leekie and haggis grace the
board, and to hear the usual Burns oration.

But why should the great War Pipe of the High-
lands be in evidence on such an occasion ?

Because to these exiles it represents Scotland as
a whole, and not merely the Highlands. Because,
in their eyes, it is the national instrument. Because
it is eminently Scottish.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 151

And as abroad, so at home. Quite recently Lord
Rosebery presided over a great gathering of Scots
at the Holborn Restaurant, London. These Scots
met to celebrate the Festival of St. Andrew.

In the speech of the evening the noble Lord
quoted from a book written by one of the "bloody"
Cumberland's soldiers.

In this book, the squalor of Scotland, in those days,
and more especially the evil smells to be met with in
Edinburgh streets, were most graphically described.

" Malodours, which," as the speaker said, *'seem
almost to reach from the book through the centuries,
and strike the modern nose, as it bends over the
page. In that very book they compare the music of
the Bagpipes, to "which we have listened with so much
pleasure to-night^ to the ' shrieks of the eternally
tormented.' I venture to say that there is no part
of this Empire where the sound of the Bagpipe is
not welco?ned and halloived at this moment. (Cheers. )
There is no part of this Empire in which fond and
affectionate hearts are not turning at this very
moment with a warmer feeling than usual to the
Land o' Cakes."

And what is this land to which the speaker's
heart warms ?

The broad domains of Dalmeny, covered with
luxurious woods and green pastures, and fertile
farms, might well at such a time draw out all the
love in this Scotsman's heart: might well on this
night of nights mean Scotland for him. But no !
If he sees Dalmeny, 'tis but for a moment. His

152 SOME REMINISCENCES

eyes are lifted to the hills beyond. The Coolins,
and Ben Nevis, and Ben Cruachan, with a hundred
other Bens, make mute but powerful appeal, to
which his heart as powerfully responds.

" Let me," he says, " before I sit down, quote a
stanza which I think one of the most exquisite
that has ever been written about the Scottish Exile,
and of which strangely enough we do not know
the author. I am sure I shall not quote it correctly,
but I will quote it sufficiently for my purpose.

* From the lone shieling on the misty island,
Mountains divide us and a world of seas.
But still our blood is strong, our heart is Highland,
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides.'""

Skye and the Outer Hebrides evidently dominate
the speaker's heart and brain, as his thoughts turn
to the land of his birth.

Can you want any stronger testimony than this
to the powerful fascination which the Highlands
exert over the Scotsman, be he Highland or Low-
land, be he at home or abroad? In a gathering of
Scotsmen anywhere, you cannot in truth exclude
the Highlander : you cannot forget the Highlands.
Long may the tartan delight the eye, and the Bag-
pipe make itself heard at such meetings.

Shorn of these two — the tartan and the Bagpipe
— our social meetings would lose much of their
charm, and Scotland would be deprived of all that
to-day reminds us of our once distinctive nationality.

CHAPTER XIX.

NO PREHISTORIC BAGPIPE IN EXISTENCE.

" And they sewed fig- leaves tog-ether and made them-
selves aprons. ' — Gen., chap. iii. ver. 7.

" An' music first on earth was heard,
In Gaelic accents deep,
When Jubal in his oxter squeezed
The blether o' a sheep."

"Vl TE now come to the history of the Bagpipe.
Everyone has heard of the famous " Breeches"
Bible, but not everyone knows or remembers how
the error, which cost the printer his life, crept in.

It was somewhat in this way.

The printer's wife, who was a strong believer in
''woman's rights," was looking over some type
which her husband had just set up, and saw the
objectionable word " aprons."

A most unbecoming dress for one thing, she
thought. And so, her husband's back being turned,
she slyly substituted the word "breeches" for the
original word.

The printer, who did not discover the mistake
until after the Bible was printed, and many copies

154 SOME REMINISCENCES

of it had been sold, was seized by the authorities
and thrown into prison.

He was tried for the serious crime of altering the
text without authority, and, worse still, of altering
the text with the deliberate intention — for so it
seemed — of putting woman on a level with her lord
and master, man, if not even of making woman his
overlord.

He was unanimously found guilty, and condemned
to death ; but as some sort of compensation to the
poor man, who should know it by this time, his
better-half, by this one act of insubordination, has
gained for both herself and him a certain unenviable
immortality.

She was a German, this meddlesome woman who
wanted to wear the breeks.

If she had been Highland, the sentence would no
doubt have run thus: "And they sewed fig leaves
together and made themselves kilts."

This would be a more correct translation, and
one with which but little fault could be found.

There would also be this double advantage in it ;
it would have put woman on a level with man,
which was really the printer's wife's intention, and
it would have settled once and for all the much-
vexed question of the antiquity of the kilt.

The antiquity of the language, however, is still —
thank God ! — unchallenged.

The poet's assertion that the Bagpipe gave
first utterance to it in Eden may be disputed,
but not its antiquity ; some good scholars, as I

AND THE BAGPIPE. I55

have said before, now believe that Gaelic —
the much-despised Gaelic : Dr. Johnson's " rude
and barbarous tongue" — was the original Aryan
speech. But a little story which appeared in the
Edinburgh Dispatch lately, supports the poet's con-
tention thus far, that the Bagpipe — whether or not
it was heard in Eden — speaks at times in this
ancient language to certain people.

The story, shortly told, was that of a servant girl
from the Highlands just come to town. It was her
first place. She had never been from home before.
She arrived at night, feeling home-sick and de-
pressed ; everything was strange and cheerless to
her. The lady of the house, hoping to brighten her
up a bit, told her she would soon feel at home and
be quite happy, as the Bagpipe was played every
night in the square by a young man who lived
close by, and was taking lessons on it.

Next morning, in reply to a kind enquiry, the
maid informed her mistress that she did hear the
young man play, ''But, ma'am," she added sadly,
*' his Bagpipe was not speaking the Gaelic."

Which meant, I suppose, that this young man,
vulgarly speaking, "couldn't play for nuts," and so
failed to touch the proper chord in the young
Highlander's breast.

Now, while the claim of Gaelic to be one of the
oldest of languages is allowed, the counter claim of
the Bagpipe to be an old Highland instrument has
been denied. I dissent entirely from such pernicious
doctrine. There is no proof of this latest craze.

156 SOME REMINISCENCES

The Pioh^ as the Gaelic-speaking race invariably
calls the Bagpipe, is a Celtic instrument, and this
at once stamps it as Highland.

Piobmhala (pron. Peevaala) is the full title of the
Bagpipe : it is made up of piob^ a pipe, and mala,
a bag, both Celtic words.

Piob Mor is the special designation of the great
War Pipe of the Highlands, distinguishing it from
the smaller Reel Pipes and others, such as the
Lowland Pipe.

The Piobmhala is to be found in many countries,
and is in most of these still a rude and barbarous
weapon, with little or no music of its own. In
Italy, for instance, there are not more than three or
four real Bagpipe tunes, and yet the Italians have
been playing the Pipe for two thousand years.

In the hands of the Celt only has it come to
anything like perfection ; and the Highlander alone,
of all Celtic peoples, has put the finishing touches to
it without destroying its original character. Other
nations, in trying to perfect it, have invariably
killed it ; in tampering with its peculiar scale and
tone, they have destroyed its originality, which is
its charm.

The Celt alone has made it both useful and artistic.

He alone has had the genius to elaborate the
intricate, but strictly scientific system of fingering,
which adds so much to the beauty of the music.

He alone produced from the Pipe that which may
be called the first classical music heard in the
world : I mean Piobaireachd.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 157

Now, if we are to credit the ancient historians,
who are all agreed upon this point, the Celt was
always more or less of an enthusiast or visionary :
subject to sudden moments of exaltation as of
depression.

A delight in poetry and music — these twin sisters
— and in nature, ear-marked him from other nations,
according to these old writers, at a very early period
in the world's history.

It is therefore nothing strange that he should
have invented the Piob or Pipe for himself. It
would be strange indeed if he had not done so.

But he was never much of an historian, and has
accordingly left behind him little to help us in our
search into the origin of this same Pipe. We can
learn a good deal about the Celt himself in pre-
historic times from the remains he has left behind
him in round barrow and kitchen midden. By
means of these we can trace his primitive wander-
ings through the different countries of Europe, and
locate the different colonies which he left behind,
as he kept ever moving onwards ; now east, now
west, now south.

From the bones found in the burial mound we
can tell what sort of a man he was physically, and
more than guess at his mental powers. From the
same source we learn what was his height, and
what his strength, and what his comeliness : for it
is not true to say with some that " beauty is but
skin deep " : we can even deduce the colour of his
hair and eyes.

158 SOME REMINISCENCES

The remains of the kitchen midden, on the other
hand, reveal to us the food which he ate, the animals
which he followed in the chase, and those which he
had domesticated ; the wild fruits which were gathered
and used by him, and those he cultivated, and many
another thing that but for these semi-imperishable
remains would have existed for us only as matters
of controversy or conjecture.

In these survivals we have history as it should
be written : history without a bias.

Little did the old Celt think that he was writing
history for posterity, when he reverently laid his dead
to sleep in the round barrows. Little did he think
that his kitchen midden, which the modern inspector
of nuisances would sweep away as a pestilence,
would prove a mine of wealth to his descendants,
hungry for information about the old life.

But when we come to trace the Bagpipe, the Celt's
favourite instrument, we have no such guide at our
elbow.

We search in vain for a specimen of the early
Pipe.

Made of perishable materials : of thin hollow
reed and quickly rotting skin, the Piohmhala has
left not a wrack behind in burial mound or refuse
heap. We have no prehistoric Bagpipe to show.

We must therefore go for our information to
written history, and to the tradition or myth which
represents for us the earlier or unwritten history.

But, first of all, what is a Bagpipe? Of what is
it composed?

AND THE BAGPIPE. 1 59

The earliest description of a Bagpipe in Scottish
literature tells that it was then composed of " ane
reid and ane bleddir."

Such a pipe is seen on the following page. The
earliest mention of it in Roman history tells us the
same thing. In the first century before Christ, the
Romans came across a Celtic race who lived on the
banks of the Danube, and who used an instrument
composed of "ane reid and ane bleddir," to which
the Roman historian gave the name of Tibia Utri-
cularis ; tibia being the Latin name for reed or
chanter, and utriculum meaning a little bag or
bladder.

These two, then, a reed and a bladder, are the
essentials of the Bagpipe. When they became
wedded into one is unknown. The Pipe without the
bag is much older of course than the Bagpipe.

The Shepherd's Pipe, as it was called, now forms
the chanter of the Bagpipe, and is one of the oldest,
if not the very oldest, musical instruments in the
world. Its history is full of interest, and makes
delightful reading, but it is only as forming an
important part of the modern Bagpipe that it claims
our attention here.

Round this simple little instrument — the Shep-
herd's Pipe — there has gathered a wealth ot story
and poetry, and romance, greater than round any
other musical instrument.

A favourite at all times with the primitive races,
it was gradually introduced into the ceremonial of
the tribe, and thus acquired a semi-sacred character;

l6o SOME REMINISCENCES

and in time came to be regarded as a special gift
from tiie gods.

This tendency to attribute a Divine origin to music
was, however, all but universal among the ancients.
I know only of one exception. The Jews gave
the credit of the invention to man, for do we not
read in Genesis that "Jubal : he was the father of all
such as handle the harp and the Pipe," or the
*' organ," as it is usually translated? This text
reminds me of a little incident which occurred not
long ago, and with the relating of which this chapter
may fitfully close.

Late one Saturday night a postcard arrived for
me, and written upon it was, " Preach to-morrow
from Gen. 4th and 21." Nothing more. The
minister knew that I was studying the history of the
Bagpipe at the time, and I immediately concluded
that he had discovered in the text something about
the "Pipes" worth knowing, and so I determined
to go and hear the sermon. The following morning
found me in church right enough, but alas ! for the
information : all that we were told was that Pipe
was a better translation than organ, as the latter
word was too suggestive of the modern organ with
its wonderful combination of pipes and pedals.
Some time afterwards I met the preacher, and said
to him, " By-the-bye, I got your postcard. It
suggested Bagpipes to me, but you had nothing
evidently to say on the matter. What did you
send it for?"

"Well, you see," he replied, "your seat had been

AND THE BAGPIPE. l6l

empty for many, many Sundays, and we thought it
was time that you were putting in an appearance."
The minister was giving a course of sermons at the
time to non-churchgoers.

Many years ago, the town-piper of Falkirk was
waiting to be hanged. The execution was to take
place on the following morning. He had been
found guilty of some trifling offence — horse-stealing
or something of that sort — and as it was his last
night on earth, he was allowed to have one or two
brother-pipers in, just for company's sake. The
night passed pleasantly and swiftly, in dancing and
piping, and quaffing of the nut-brown ale. The
condemned man himself was in the middle of a
tune — a gaysome lilt — when the early morning light
suddenly shot down through the bars of his prison
window, and reminded him of his coming fate.

'*I play no more," he said, while the gloom
gathered around him, and reluctantly, but reverently,
he laid down his Bagpipe upon the bench beside him,
for the last time : the Bagpipe with the tune upon
it still unfinished — a fitting emblem of his own
unfinished life ! He forgot his sang froid for a
moment ; for a moment, but only for a moment,
his gay demeanour deserted him, and he cried
aloud in his agony, **Oh, but this wearifu' hanging
rings in my lug like a new tune." A few minutes
later, he was marching to the scaffold with jaunty
step and head erect, the fear that held him prisoner
for a moment, gone.

Let me confess it here, that I may have less to

l62 SOME REMINISCENCES

confess hereafter ; the greater part of the sermon
preached from Gen. 4th and 21, on that memorable
Sunday morning, when I went to church to get
information for my book, fell upon deaf ears, so far
as I was concerned. The text had aroused thoughts
within me which surged through my brain, and
rung " in my lug like a new tune," with a per-
sistency, too, not to be denied. And the refrain
was always to these same words,

" An' music first on earth was heard
In Gaelic accents deep,
When Jubal in his oxter squeezed
The blether o' a sheep."

CHAPTER XX.

ANCIENT MYTH AND THE BAGPIPE.

" Imagination is one of God's chlefest gifts to man ; to
the Celt first, to the world afterwards, through the Celt." —
Anon.

/^ENTLE reader, it has been said, with what truth
I know not, that there are more false facts
than false theories in this world.

If you are one of the many who profess to love
fact for its own sake, and look askance at fable?

If you are one of those who care not for the house
beautiful, but only for a night's shelter from the
dews of heaven ?

If you are one of those who consider flowers as
an extravagance, and the monies spent upon them
as worse than wasted, because the five per cent,
comes not back to you in hard cash? Then may
you skip the two following chapters without loss,
and with a possible profit to yourself.

At the same time it is perhaps worth while
remembering that there are false facts many in this
world, and true imaginings not a few. I am about
to make an excursion into Mythland, where imagina-

164 SOME REMINISCENCES

tion, which has hitherto been kept under with a
tight curb, is given free play, and where theory-
flourishes, while known facts for the time being will
be at a discount.

Although we do not hold this as proven, yet we
believe that underneath many of these old-world fables
many rare — because little suspected — truths lie hidden.

Mythland, indeed, reminds us very much of the
Halls of Laughter, on entering which the stranger
finds his advances met half way by the most extra-
ordinary looking beings, unlike anything he has
seen before, who excite his mirth by their comicali-
ties. Right in front he sees a man with head
flattened out in pancake fashion, supported upon
the smallest of bodies, with the most diminutive
pair of legs attached. On the right hand is surely
Don Quixote come to life again ! with his solemn
mien and thin lanthorn-shaped jaws and pursed-up
mouth; "a bout of linked sweetness long-drawn
out." While on the left is a third creature, with
the ceann cearc, or hen's-head, perched upon a
" corporation " of sufficient dimensions to satisfy the
most greedy of London aldermen. These hideous-
looking caricatures of the " human frame divine,"
peering out from every niche and cranny in the
Hall, beck and bow and nod, and turn now to
right and now to left, with every movement of the
astonished onlooker, whose gravity and sense of
decorum, long undermined, at length give way in
peels of laughter, which, strangely enough, find no
echo in all that grinning crowd.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 165

This awakens him to the truth that has hitherto
eluded his observation. He himself is the ^^ Dens
ex maclmia^^' the sole author of the show: the sole
cause of the mirth. Behind every queer figure
stands himself; every feature, every movement, is
his own ; his gentlest smile has been reflected back
in broadest grin ; the laughter cannot be but silent
in that shadow-land, of which he is the father.

By means of numerous mirrors, of different con-
cavities and convexities, cunningly inserted into the
draped walls, the man's own face has been shewn
to him in fifty different ways ; the truth has been
so cleverly disguised as to be unrecognisable even
to himself.

In the mirror of tradition or myth, then, we often
find reflected for us in the same way much of the
prehistoric lore, previously learned from anthropology
and other learned ologies : the truth, distorted it is
true, sometimes beyond recognition : and in this way
our knowledge of old-world affairs is further con-
firmed and strengthened.

Now there are two myths, both found in early
Greek literature, which may perchance shed some
light on the origin and development of the Bag-
pipe ; and it is with some such hope that we in-
troduce them here.

The story of Pan and the story of Athene's
chanter are — apart from any important knowledge
to be gleaned in their perusal — entitled to a chapter
of their own in any work upon the Bagpipe, and
will not, we are sure, be thought out of place.

l66 SOME REMINISCENCES

In juxtaposition these two old-world deities —
Athene and Pan — might well stand for Beauty and
the Beast in the children's fairy tale. The uncouth
hairy body of the old sylvan god, making a rare
foil to the enchanting beauty of Athene : both
passionately fond of dancing and music, and both
noted for their performance upon the Pipe.

CHAPTER XXI.

PIPER PAN.

" 'Twas ever thus since first the world began !
The adoration of his fellow-man,
Proclaims the genius hero first, then God —
Ruling his maker, man, with iron rod.
'Twas thus with Thor, the strong, and Piper Pan,
And all the ancient gods, now under ban." —

Anon.

T)AN was one of the most popular gods in the
heathen world. He was an universal favourite
with the Greeks, and also — under a different name —
with the Latins.

His divinity was, however, only first acknow-
ledged by the Greeks about the year 470 B.C. He
was worshipped by the country-folk — by the shep-
herds in Arcadia and round about — long before
this, but he only became known to the learned
dwellers in Athens shortly after the battle of
Marathon ; and his country charms made him at
once popular with that fickle people.

With his ruddy cheek, and his hearty laugh, and
his jovial unsophisticated manners ; with his mouth
dropping honey fresh from the comb, and his breath

l68 SOME REMINISCENCES

sweet with the odours of the violet ; no ascetic he,
but of jovial tastes — as the wine-stain still fresh
upon his lips from late revels shewed — and carrying
with him into the jaded town two gifts worth
having, the fresh airs from Nature's wilds, and
the gift of exquisite music, this hairy creature fairly
captivated the volatile Greek heart.

We need not here repeat the story of Pan and
his Pipes. It has been told by many writers, and
well told too. None, however, excels Mrs Elizabeth
Browning's version in the exquisite poem beginning
with these well-known lines :

" What was he doing-, the Great God Pan,
Down by the side of the river ? "

She also tells the story of his death with a charm
inimitable in the more ambitious poem entitled,
'' Pan, Pan is dead."

We may perhaps — in spite of all this — be forgiven
for trying our hand, not at the story itself, but at
the prologue to the story of Piper Pan.

The beginning of the tale takes us back to a very
remote past : to a time when the Aryan race,
hitherto one and undivided — with its home in the
great central plain of Europe — was beginning to
break up, by pressure from within, into a number
of separate tribes or nations.

At first there was only one possessive pronoun in
the language, Meum^ or mine. But just about
the time our story opens up there appeared a
most unwelcome stranger, a troublesome little fellow,

This Photograph shews (from left to right)

The Pan Pipe, the Single Tibia of the Romans,

ANO THE

Tibia Pares :

The latter got from a shepherd boy in North Africa.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 169

called "Tuum," or thine, who claimed acquaintance-
ship with "Meum," and demanded a share of his
inheritance.

He had been heard of in several places, more or
less remote, but had so far left the Celt unmolested.
The rumours of his appearance had been gravely
discussed by the seniors of the tribe in council,
because from the very first he was noted as a
mischief-maker.

Wherever he appeared speedy quarrels arose, and
much shedding of blood often followed. But all
mention of him was strictly avoided in public, and
most of the people were as yet ignorant of the im-
pending danger which, Damocles like, hung over
their heads.

Formerly the patriarch of the tribe, as he stretched
himself lazily in the door of his tent at break of
day and narrowly scanned the horizon for sign of
other life than his own, looked in vain. The world
lying around him, far as the keenest of visions
carried, was all his own. There was no sign of life
in that vast region to disturb the roseate dawn, nor
sound nor movement outside the sleeping camp.

Fresh pasture upon fresh pasture lay waiting for
the coming of his flocks and herds, and of his alone.
Peace and contentment reigned within and without.
And as it was, so it had been, for untold centuries.

But in process of time the natural increase of
population, and the rapid increase of sheep and
cattle, brought about changes which were distasteful ;
imposed restrictions which were galling to a race

170 SOME REMINISCENCES

hitherto free as the wind — free to roam about from
year to year, and from place to place ; free to
wander wherever its fancy led it, unchallenged of
any.

When, therefore, for the first time in the history
of the tribe the smoke of a stranger's camp-fire was
perceived like a thin blue streak staining the deeper
blue of the far-distant horizon, the wise men foretold
that the day of trouble was at hand, and their fore-
bodings were, alas ! soon realised. Messengers were
sent out to spy upon the intruders, and great was
the excitement when these brought back word that
little "Tuum," born of rumour, was settled there,
and had come to stay.

" Tuum ! tuum !" said the tribesmen, for the word
was soon in the mouth of everyone. " What is this
new word, and what does it mean ? "

"It means," said the elders of the tribe, "that
the time has come for us to trek."

And so tents were struck, the waggons were
loaded with the household necessaries, the women
and little children were carefully stowed away on
the top of these, and, last of all, the patient oxen
were yoked to, and these simple shepherd folk,
giving up all that meant home to them, wandered
away out into the wilderness rather than submit to
the unwelcome encroachments of little "Tuum."

Which, put into plain language, means that the
cradle of the Aryans became too small, in the
fulness of time, to hold the race now grown to
manhood.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 17I

" The deeds of the times of old," said Duth-marno,
'* are Hke paths to our eyes." "A tale of the times
of old," sings Ossian.

As this prologue takes up a tale of the times of
old, "a tale of the years that have fled," we will
begin it in the good old-fashioned way, beloved of
our grandfathers, and dear yet to the youthful
mind.

Once upon a time, a little shepherd boy, whose
ruddy locks and light blue eyes bespoke him a Celt
of the Celts, sat by the side of a river, paddling
with cool feet, in the clear waters running below,
while his flocks grazed peacefully along its green
banks.

He was listening to and wondering at the music
which the soft winds made, playing in and out of
the reeds, that grew in the bed of the river.

He had often before listened to those sweet sounds
and wondered. Fairy music they called it at home
and among his playmates, but the explanation was
not a satisfying one to this boy of enquiring mind.
And so, on this particular morning, of which we
write, with the sun shining brightly out of a cloud-
less sky, and leaving not a single dark nook or
cranny anywhere for fear to lurk in, the boy, taking
his courage in his hand, stepped boldly down into
the water, and seizing hold of a reed which had
been broken off by some stronger gust of wind
than usual, he pulled it up by the root, and putting
his mouth to the hole in the fractured stem he
blew a sharp quick breath across it, and instantly

172 SOME REMINISCENCES

there floated away upon the still summer air the
first note of human music.

Eagerly seizing another and yet another reed, he
blew again and again, and always with the same
result ; but also with — to him — a strange difference.
Or did his ear play him false? For surely the
notes were of varying quality, some high and some
low.

He soon discovered that the low notes came from
the longer reeds and the high notes from the shorter
reeds, and so, putting together a number of these
reeds of different lengths, he produced the first
wind instrument in the world : one which is known
to-day as the Pandean or Pan Pipe.

It was this instrument which gave the world
afterwards the idea of the Bagpipe drones, and of
the combined pipes of the more complex organ. It
did not take very great thought, or research, to
further discover that the different notes got from
this combination of reeds could also be got from
one reed by notching holes at uncertain intervals
along its course.

This accordingly was done, and the Shepherd's
Pipe came into being.

Now the shepherd's occupation, at all times a
solitary one, gave the boy the very opportunities
which he required for study. Nature was his
teacher. The sighing of the wind in the tree-tops,
the murmur of the running stream over the shallows
at the ford : these were his studies.

His notes he learned from the feathered songsters

AND THE BAGPIPE. 1 73

of the grove, and in his own poetical way — the
Celt's way — he called the little instrument Piob
(pronounced in the soft Gaelic tongue, peep), after
the peep, peep, of his teachers, the little birds.

Practising constantly, steadfastly, cheerfully, the
boy became a clever musician, and at length, falling
in love with his own music — as who wouldn't — and
neglecting his herds and his flocks, he wandered
away among the neighbouring tribes, piping as he
went, and was everywhere received with open arms
by these rude children of nature, for the sake of the
splendid gift which was his — the gift of music. A
never-ending wonder it was to them ; a never-ending
source of delight. And if after a time, when he
was taken from them, they deified the boy, can
you blame them ?

Now this boy, with all his quiet ways and gentle
manners, cherished another ambition than that of
becoming a musician. One night, when sitting on
his father's knee, and supposed to be fast asleep,
he learned from the talk of the elders, sitting round
the camp fire at the end of the day, as was their
wont, that long, long ago, part of the tribe to
which he belonged had broken away — after a fierce
family quarrel — from the main body, and disappeared
over the mountains to the south. That a messaere
once came through in some mysterious way, many
years after, saying that they had prospered, and
that they were living in a beautiful country, well-
wooded, and full of green pasture-lands, where
droughts were unknown, because through it all

174 SOME REMINISCENCES

there ran a great river of purest waters. But tor
many years nothing further had been heard of the
wanderers. To visit his long-lost relations in their
new home, a home which always appeared to him
in dreams as Fairyland : this was the ambition
which the little shepherd boy secretly cherished.

It was therefore with great delight that he
received a message one day to return home, as his
people had determined, on account of the persistent
encroachments Oi strangers upon their pastures, to
go in search of a new country, and of those
relatives who had trekked over the mountains long
years ago.

He arrived just in time to join the last of the
waggons, as it was going out from the old home.

Of the long and wearisome journey over difficult
country ; of his piping with which the tedium of the
way was beguiled; of the hundred and one dangers
from storms and floods, from wild beasts and
treacherous foe; of the terrible winter months spent
perforce wandering in the mountains of Noricum,
where they got lost in the snow, and where man
and beast died off as in a murrain ; of these and
many other privations endured, what need is there
to tell ? Suffice it to say that one morning in
spring, when the earth had put off its winter gar-
ments, and the little yellow flowers, coaxed into
new life by the warm sun, peeped out cautiously
from the crevices of the rocks, and a fluty mellow-
ness in the twitter of the mountain linnet, recalled
the fuller throated song of summer, the tired way-

AND THE BAGPIPE. I75

farers arrived at the end of their toilsome journey.
As they emerged from the passes which had engaged
their attention for days, a gladsome sight met their
eyes. At the foot of the mountains, rolling one
into the other like the billows of some giant ocean,
green fertile valleys spread themselves out before
them, while in the distance a mighty river, shimmer-
ing in the soft morning light, went winding its
sinuous way through bank and brake, by bush and
fell, looking for all the world like some huge silver
snake guarding the land. While the leaders stood
gazing upon the magnificent panorama— the realisa-
tion of their hopes by day and by night, for weary
months past, more than fulfilled — the scouts, who
always preceded the caravan, brought in the joyful
intelligence that in the valley below there dwelt a
people bearing the same name as themselves, and
the country, they were told, was called Pannonia,
after them..

These Pannonians, then, were their long - lost
relatives. The great river in front was the Danube;
and the country, still thinly populated, which
stretched out before them, beautiful as the Fairy-
land of the little piper-boy's dream, was to be their
future home.

When the two peoples met, there were great
rejoicings on both sides.

Time had taken all the sting out of the old feud,
and warm hands were clasped, and loving embrace
met loving embrace. What questions were put and
answered, what marvels recounted, what treasures

176 SOME REMINISCENCES

shewn, what memories revived, it matters not to us
here. But of all the wonders each had to tell or
to shew the other, none equalled in marvel the
piping of the little shepherd boy. He was the hero
of the hour.

In this beautiful country then, by the banks of
the Danube, the gifted one lived and dreamed, and
piped and taught, for the remainder of his days.
And when he died in the fulness of time, his
honoured remains were laid to rest beside his
father's, to the mourning of a whole nation.

Now, as the years went by, while many things were
forgotten, the memory of the piper's performances on
the Pipe remained ever green ; the marvel of his
playing grew and evermore grew; until in time the
personality of the player was altogether lost in the
divineness of his gift. Hero worship, in short,
raised him to a place among the immortals.

And when we first meet with our little shepherd

boy in History, he is already known as the Great

God Pan.

" What was he douig, the Great God Pan,
Down in the reeds by the river ?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing- and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat,
With the dragon fly on the river.

He tore out a reed, the Great God Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river ;

The limped water turbidly ran,

And the broken lilies a dying lay,

And the dragon fly had fled away,

Ere he brought it out of the river/'

AND THE BAGPIPE. I77

The god then fashioned a Pipe out of the reed,
and playing upon it with power, he fairly startled
the world with the sweetness of his music. The
picture drawn for us by Mrs Browning, of the
pause which took place in Nature's workshop, as the
strains of the first music fell upon listening ears, is
too charming to be omitted ; and with the last verse
of the poem I will close this prologue, with full
apologies to the classical scholar for the many
liberties I have taken with the different texts in
my treatment of Pan the Piper. Mrs Browning
places the piping out of doors. This is as it should
be, in the fitness of things. Piercing sweet, and
blinding sweet, would not be sweet, indoors.

" Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan !

Piercing sweet by the river !
Blinding- sweet, O Great God Pan !
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon fly
Came back to dream on the river."

As it was in the days when the world was
young, so is it in these jaded days of syren and
steam-whistle.

It is not given to every man to hear, nor hearing
to understand ; but nevertheless, the old music once
so beloved of the Immortals can still be heard
whenever a piper tunes up. Standing — like the
great Dr Johnson — with "one fond ear to the
drone," the intelligent listener marks not time's
flight.

Once under the spell of the master, what does it

178 SOME REMINISCENCES

matter to him that the sun has set, that the flowers
have faded, and the dragon-fly has long since
folded its gossamer wings in sleep ?

He heeds not these things : he marks them not :
his thoughts are elsewhere. He is back in the old
days ; and he sees his forefathers clad in goatskins
leading the sheep with sweet music to the green
pastures beside the still waters; or transported on
the wings of the so "blinding sweet" music, he
finds himself standing at the portals of Mythland,
and there he catches a glimpse of a still older life
within as he eagerly watches the gay crowds of
"nimphes, faunes, and amadriades," disporting them-
selves on the green sward in the cool of the evening
the while Pan pipes.

CHAPTER XXII.

PALLAS ATHENE.

" The thoughts of men true to the divine are the key to
the thoug-hts of God ; and here in the Greek Myths especially
we have the Greek fancy, not an unfaithful one, of the Gods'
fact. Read candidly, they speak worthily and truly." —

Rev. James Wood.

T)ALLAS ATHENE was at one time a very real
■*- personage, in the eyes of the uncultured Greek
youth especially; but she was also held to be very
real by the best and more sincere of the cultured
classes. She was to the Greeks what Minerva was
to the Latins, but a great deal more. She was
originally an adoption by the nation from some
outside race — introduced by the Phoenician or other
trader; — but the Greeks, when the nation was at
its best, made the Goddess as we know her, their
very own, by the lavish and loving care bestowed
upon her. Painter, and poet, and sculptor, vied
with each other in depicting her many charms. A
vision of all fhe wisdom and virtues of a charming
sisterhood, and the greatness of the greatest of the
gods, foregathered in one sweet body : this was
Athene.

l8o SOME REMINISCENCES

Perpetual youth and ever-sweet maidenhood, wis-
dom "beyond rubies," and beauty never fading,
imperial strength combined with an infinite patience;
these were a few of her attributes.

To the cesthetic Greek mind Athene was indeed
the embodiment of all that is pure, and modest,
and lovely in woman, and brave and noble in man.

Her virgin heart alone yielded not to the bland-
ishments of love ; but yet she was no prude !

She constantly interested herself in the affairs of
men, and interfered at times in their quarrels^ — -only,
however, to right the wrong, and she always strove
to lighten the burden of the suffering and the heavy-
laden.

Strong in her heaven-born armour, she never
used her god-like powers to oppress; but merciful
withal, and full of compassion, she went about
like a knight-errant of old, succouring the op-
pressed and down - trodden. Like a breath of
sweetest purest air — which, indeed, she was, and
this is why Ruskin calls her "Queen of the Air"
— she swept into the sick-chamber, and dispelled
the ill vapours, and infused fresh courage into the
hearts of all those nigh unto death. She gave
breath — which means endurance — to the runner and
the wrestler, and strength to the warrior; but she
was also the patron of the peaceful arts of letters
and of agriculture.

If the following story shews that she had her
little weakness — a woman's weakness — one only loves
her the more for it.

AND THE BAGPIPE. l8l

The Greek goddess Athene, so the story runs,
discovered the secret of wind music : the music
which had hitherto lain hidden in the little reeds
growing by the marsh lands of Phrygia.

She made herself a beautiful chanter or "aulos,"
as the Greeks called it, out of the leg bone of a
hart. The hard, smooth bone out of which she
fashioned it gave it a more permanent form, and
one which lent itself to artistic decoration, such as
is seen on the blow-pipe of the little Egyptian
Bagpipe shewn here, better than any mere cane,
however excellent.

This form of pipe, possibly this very *' aulos"
of Athene, suggested the name ''tibia" to the
Romans : a name which they applied to all chan-
ters, whether made of reed or bone, because of this
first one, which was made from the tibia or shin-
bone.

The Goddess seems to have kept her secret to
herself until she had perfected her play : when,
proud of her invention and of her skill in piping,
it seemed right to keep the secret a secret no
longer, and with this intent she sent out invitations
to all her acquaintances among the gods to come
and hear her play upon this, the first instrument of
its kind in the history of the gods or of man.
The meeting-place was on Mount Ida, near by
where flows the sacred fountain. The gathering
was, I presume, somewhat of the nature of a
modern afternoon party, which is called together
by Lady So-and-So, one of the leaders of fashion.

l82 SOME REMINISCENCES

to hear some famous scientist discourse upon the
latest discovery in frogs' spawn, or to listen to
some new singer wrestling with the top D.

On the day appointed, no distant relatives having
died in the meantime, and none of the gods being
from home on business, or ill, the expected guests
turned up punctually, as well-bred people always
do. Zeus himself was there, and the outspoken
Here, and the exquisite Aphrodite surrounded by
her admirers, and many others. Athene charmed
the company with her sweet music, as she could
not fail to do ; and when the piping was over, and
the applause had died down, expressions of opinion
on this new art which had delighted them so were
invited, and were freely given.

But while the gods to a man — to descend from
the clouds for a little — expressed themselves as
wholly charmed with the performance, the ladies,
as is not uncommon where one of their own sweet
sex is concerned, qualified their praise with ominous
nods, and wrinkling of foreheads, and shrugs of
lovely shoulders, which hinted at something behind
the praise.

Was it ever otherwise ? Did woman ever find
perfection in one of her own sex? Is this wherein
woman, " lovely woman," is so much wiser than
man ?

" Most excellent," said Here, " your playing is a
perfect revelation, and how sweet you looked!'" at
which latter part of the sentence a ripple of quiet
laughter went round the circle of lady critics.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 183

"An exquisite gift! such style f" said a second,
with a lift of the eyebrows and a marked emphasis
upon "style" ; and again that ripple of musical
laughter !

"Your piping was entrancing, Goddess fair, hut is
not the blowing very severe upon your cheeks?'''' said
a third, glancing at the company roguishly, and with
a movement of the eye-lid, which in an ordinary
mortal might easily be mistaken for a wink.

And so the pretty critics chattered on, one after
another giving her opinion, each new comment
punctuated with fresh bursts of merriment, the while
the graceful Athene stood, with heightened colour,
in perplexity and wonder ; until at length Aphrodite,
the " Queen of Love," who, herself beautiful, was
also perhaps a little jealous of Athene's good looks,
said, " It is not the music, Athene dear, which has
set these giddy ones a-laughing. The music is
everything that is beautiful. But have you seen your
own face while piping? Your cheeks are like
this " : saying which Aphrodite puffed out her own
lovely face to unnatural dimensions ; at which the
laughter broke out afresh, some of the younger gods
joining in the mirth thus provoked by her who was
voted easily the wit of the party.

Now, Athene was but a woman after all. Her
one weakness was feminine vanity. She shewed
too great a concern for her beauty, which was too
assured, too pronounced, to be easily slighted, and
Aphrodite's action rather than her words annoyed
her.

184 SOME REMINISCENCES

So flying to the sacred fountain, which stood
close by, she looked down into the clear waters
the while she piped, and there she saw mirrored
as in polished silver her face, so altered, with its
pursed -up lips and blown -out cheeks, that she
scarcely recognised the picture as her own.

Everything was in an instant clear to her as
noonday sun; the laughter! the innuendo! the
"becks and nods, and wreathed smiles!" and, in
a sudden pet, she flung far out into space — far as
her strong young arm could fling it — the little Pipe
which had brought her to this impasse, and regis-
tered a solemn vow that she would never, never
touch the accursed thing again.

Now, it happened upon this very day — the day
on which Athene challenged the admiration of the
gods, with such a doubtful result — that Marsyas,
the Phrygian, was on his way home, and was
taking: a short cut across the shoulder of Mount
Ida. When more than half-way up the ascent — the
sky being then clear of clouds, and of a lovely
blue — he saw the lightnings begin suddenly to play
round the top of the mountain, and he shrewdly
guessed that a meeting of the gods was being
held there, with Zeus presiding, else why this
shaking of his thunderbolts? So being a wise man,
and not reckless of his life, he immediately turned
aside and took the longer way home, round the
base of the mountain. He had not gone very far
on his new course when his sharp ears were
assailed with the sound of distant Pipe music.

A Bagpipe of " Ane Reed and Ane Bleddir."

Above is a full-sized chanter covered with silver of Indian design ; at one time
belonging to Pipe-Major Gregor Fraser of the Gordon Highlanders.

Below is a Chinese chanter sent from Wei-hai-wei by A. N. Fkaser,
R.A.M.C.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 185

Startled at so unusual an occurrence in such a
lonely place, he dropped suddenly behind a huge
moss-grown boulder, with the quick instinct of
the wild animal, which still lurked underneath his
hairy skin, and crouched, and waited.

Nearer and nearer came the mysterious sounds,
and louder and clearer they ever grew ; but of the
musician, there was not a sign that the quick eye
of the shepherd could detect. The thing was
altogether uncanny, and got upon his nerves. The
hair upon his satyr's legs stiffened with fear ; his
goat's beard shook ; his teeth chattered as with in-
tense cold ; terror clogged his feet, else would he
have fled. But just then he spied Athene's Pipe —
the Pipe with the music in it — come rolling down
the hill.

It struck the top of the rock behind which he
lay, and rebounding, dropped at his feet, breathing
forth the strangest, sweetest music this shepherd
had ever listened to.

The possibilities of the future with such a Pipe
in his possession opened up a delightful vista to
his hopes and ambitions ; for he was already
famous as a musician. He saw himself already a
piper of fame : the shepherds of the plain gathered
round him at night, listening to the new art in
open-mouthed wonder; the shy, soft-eyed nymphs
showering favours upon him as they danced in the
twilight to his music. So, taking up the "Magic
Pipe " tenderly, he placed it in his bosom, and
rising from his lair invigorated and refreshed, he

l86 SOME REMINISCENCES

Started off eagerly for home. Connecting in his
own mind the meeting of the gods on Mount Ida
with the "aulos," which had come to him so
mysteriously, he murmured to himself, as he
trudged stoutly along: "A gift from the gods I a
gift from the gods ! " and the little reed the while
made music at his heart.

Yes, dear old Marsyas — first of pipers — it is a
gift from the gods, and a fatal gift, too! Better
throw it away from you while there is time ; throw
it away before it exercises its full fascination on you,
and your head strikes the stars, and you come to
sudden, signal grief. No?

Then, know that it will bring you two things —
Fame and Death. No doubt many men before
you have bravely courted death — even seeking, as
Shakespeare puts it, "the bubble reputation at the
cannon's mouth," for the thing which they called
Fame! And why, if this be your choice, should
not you?

'Tis better to be great in something, however
small, than only "middling this and middling that"
in larger matters.

Now, it happened unto Marsyas, as foreseen by
him ; his fame as a piper quickly grew, and
spread, and reached other countries. At all the
gatherings where he competed he won the prize
with ease, until at last he felt, and — better still —
knew that no man was his equal, and through this
knowledge he got what is vulgarly known as
*' swelled head."

AND THE BAGPIPE. 187

His ambition — fed upon the pride which grew with
each fresh victory — impelled him in an unguarded
moment to challenge the gods themselves.

He accordingly sent a message to Apollo offering
to pit his Pipe against the god's own invention
and favourite instrument, the cithara or lyre.

The challenge, which caused no little stir and
indignation in the upper circles, was accepted, and a
mighty gathering, wherein the sons of gods mingled
with the daughters of men and found them fair,
assembled at the appointed time and place to witness
the great contest. After a long trial, in which the
goatherd played as he had never played before, the
judges — as was only to be expected, they being of the
*' upper ten " — gave the victory to Apollo, and poor
Marsyas, the hitherto unbeaten one, for his presump-
tion in daring to challenge the gods, was tied to a
tree and flayed alive. And so in this way, the gift
which brought Marsyas fame brought him also a
cruel death.

There are many points of likeness between this
story of Marsyas and the story of Pan, only in the
contest of Pipe versus Lyre between Pan and Apollo,
Midas, the Phrygian king, who was judge, decided
in favour of the Pipe, and was presented with a pair
of ass's ears by Apollo, who was very angry with
his judgment.

The oldest-named Pipe tune in the world is called
after this incident, "King Midas has Ass's Ears," and
was composed by the king's barber, to whom of all
men living the poor king confided his dread secret,

l88 SOME REMINISCENCES

for the very good reason that he could not hide it
from him and also have his hair cut.

In both stories, the instrument is the Shepherd's
Pipe, and is opposed in both by Apollo's lyre.

In both, the players are goatherds, as the hairy
legs and the goat's beard shew.

In each case the instrument is invented and made
by the gods. In the one case, however, Pan, the
god who made the Pipe, also makes the music on the
Pipe which he had made — he is himself the piper ;
while, in the other case, the man Marsyas got the
Pipe from the gods with the gift of music in it :
Athene's Pipe invited no exertion on his part, it could
play by itself. Here it seems to me that we have the
first suggestion of a Bagpipe.

I have been in the habit, when lecturing upon this
subject, of illustrating my theory in the following
way. I use a simple Bagpipe without drones, which
I conceal under my Highland cloak, the latter
representing the minstrel's cloak of olden days. The
chanter, which I first slip through one of the button-
holes before inserting it in the bag, is all that the
audience sees. Through a very short blowpipe I
quickly fill the bag, and having done so, I let the
blowpipe drop inside the cloak. I then play upon the
chanter, which is the only part of the Pipe in view of
the audience, without any apparent effort, a complete
tune, such as the " Reel of Tulloch " or "The Lads
of Mull."

Now, if instead of a small bag I used a large sheep or
goatskin bag, such as you see on the opposite page,

AND THE BAGPIPE. l8g

and a very light reed made of straw, such as the
early pipers fitted their Pipes with, I could easily,
with one fill of the bag, play six or eight tunes in
succession without any visible exertion.

Some such playing the Greeks must have heard
at a very early period : long before the idea of the
Bagpipe caught on with the nation : and even at
first such piping must have seemed little short of
miraculous. The player was some wandering
minstrel who found his way into Grecian terri-
tory, his Pipe and minstrel's cloak his only pass-
port.

Or the story of the magic Pipe may have been
brought back by some soldier home from the wars,
or by some merchant returned from distant markets.
In whatever way the story arose, it would be passed
on from father to son, the marvel of it growing
with each telling, the details as the years sped,
getting mistier and mistier ; until one generation
would forget that the piper first blew into the bag
before playing, and the next forget that there was
a bag, and a third forget that there was a piper.
And when the Pipe alone was remembered ! of
course it played by itself.

According to the imagination with which each of
us is gifted, will this suggestion of mine appear wise
or the reverse. I make a present of it to my
antiquarian friends, and only hope that one day a
drawing of a Celt piping on such a Bagpipe to a
crowd of wonder-eyed Greeks will be found, engraved
on burnt brick or other material, in some of the

igO SOME REMINISCENCES

ancient ruins now being explored round about Athens
or elsewhere.

The usual interpretation of the contest between
Marsyas and Apollo is the very obvious one, that
it was a contest for supremacy between wind and
stringed instruments; and the result shewed that the
Greeks preferred the stringed instrument.

Ruskin, however, draws from this incident a
different meaning altogether. He says, "Whatever
in music is measured and designed belongs therefore
to Apollo and the Muses ; whatever is impulsive and
passionate, to Athene ; . . • but the passionate music
is wind music, as in the Doric flute. Then, when
this inspired music becomes degraded in its passion,
it sinks into the Pipe of Pan and the double Pipe of
Marsyas, and is then rejected by Athene." Ruskin
evidently forgot here that Marsyas only got the Pipe
after Athene rejected it, a thing which he immediately
afterwards remembers. " The myth which represents
her doing so, is that she invented the double Pipe
from hearing the hiss of the Gorgonian serpents ; but
when she played upon it, chancing to see her face
reflected in water, she saw that it was distorted,
whereupon she threw down the flute which Marsyas
found. Then the strife of Apollo and Marsyas
represents the enduring contest between music in
which the words and thought lead, and the lyre
measures or melodises them, and music in which
the words are lost, and the wind or impulse leads, —
generally therefore between intellectual, and brutal
or meaningless music.

AND THE BAGPIPE. I9I

"Therefore when Apollo prevails, he flays Marsyas,
taking the limit and external bond of his shape
from him, which is death, without touching the
mere muscular strength ; yet shameful and dreadful
in dissolution."

Now Ruskin when he wrote the above was not
thinking of the Bagpipe : he knew nothing about
the Bagpipe, and yet unknowingly he supplies a
link in my chain of reasoning as I will immediately
prove.

For there is, according to my interpretation of
the myth a great deal more meaning in it than
either of the above interpretations gives. The con-
test was in my opinion, a contest between Town
and Country, and this is very important with regard
to the claim recently put forward, that the Pipe is
an invention of the Greeks, when we recall the fact
that the old Greek state or colony, was little more
than a state town, or city, with little or no jurisdic-
tion beyond its own walls, and surrounded on all
sides by hostile peoples of different nationalities. If
the Pipe, therefore, came from the country to the
town, as we learn from this myth, it came to the
Greeks from an outside source.

I hope to prove also that this Pipe of Athene's
was a Bagpipe, and — this by the way — that Marsyas
was not really flayed alive, but was merely stripped
of his clothes.

Apollo then represents the city, the Greek colony.
He is the dandy about town ; tall, handsome,
effeminate, scented. With his minstrel's cloak,

192 SOME REMINISCENCES

which is made of richest stuff and dyed of the most
costly dyes, thrown carelessly over his left shoulder,
he looks the ideal of grace and breeding. His
instrument is the lyre ; a feeble tinkling thing,
suitable enough for the ladies' boudoir, or as an
accompaniment to the voice in song, but fitted only
for the sweep of delicate fingers : a maiden's weapon
and not suited to turbulent times or peoples.

Marsyas, on the other hand, represents the coun-
try : the outside world, and is entirely awanting in
anything like Greek culture. He is strong and
muscular, stout, healthy, ruddy-cheeked ; rude and
unsophisticated, and smelling, not of sweet scents
distilled from rarest flowers, but of the hillside and
the sheepfold. His minstrel's cloak is a new goat-
skin fresh from its late owner's back, and smelling
fresh of the rennet. He has newly donned it to
grace the occasion. His instrument is "the rude
and barbarous Bagpipe," sprung from the soil, and
as yet unknown to the dweller in town.

Marsyas no doubt has a bet with Apollo on the
event, — or he differs sadly from the goatherd of
Theocritus' time — and this it is which gives rise to
the story of the flaying of him alive.

That such contests were of every-day occurrence
we know from the testimony of many writers.

That much betting also took place at these friendly
trials of skill is also certain.

The best ewe in his flock, a carved bowl, a carved
stick, the goatskin on his back, the Pipe he played
on ; anything and everything the goatherd possessed

AND THE BAGPIPE. I93

he risked in bets during a singing or piping con-
test.

Read any of the old Greek pastorals if you doubt
the truth of the above.

Here is an extract — the translation by Calverly —
from Theocritus : —

" Daphnis the gentle herdsman, met once as rumour tells
Menalcas making- with his flock, the circle of the fells.
Both chins were gilt with coming beards : both lads

could sing and play :
Menalcas glanced at Daphnis, and thus was heard to

say :
'Art thou for singing, Daphnis, lord of the lowing kine,
I say, my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than

thine.'
Then in his turn spake Daphnis, and thus he made

reply :
' O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and

high ;
But come what will, Menalcas, thou ne'er wilt sing

as 1/

Menalcas —
* This thou art fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with
me?'

Daphnis —

' This 1 full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with

thee.
I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb.' "

But Menalcas — to his credit be it said — answered
" No ; the flock is counted every night, and the
lamb would be missed ; it is not mine to give, it is
my father's ; but I will stake my Pipe of nine holes,

194 SOME REMINISCENCES

which I have made myself, and joined together with
beautiful white wax, against yours.

To this Daphnis consents, and they get a passing
goatherd to act as referee. They lay their Pipes aside
on this occasion, and each in turn tries his hand at
extempore song. When finished, the goatherd gives
judgment as follows : —

" ' O Daphnis, lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly sung:
Such song is pleasanter to me, than honey on my

tongue.
Accept this Pipe, for thou hast won. And should there

be some notes
That thou could'st teach tne, as I plod alongside of my

goats ;
I'll give thee for thy schooling this ewe, that horns

hath none :
Day by day she'll fill the can, until the milk o'er-run.'

Then how the one lad laughed and leaped and clapped

his hands for glee !
A kid that bounds to meet its dam might dance as

merrily.
And how the other inly burned, struck down by his

disgrace !
A maid first parting from her home might wear as sad

a face."

In the same boastful spirit Marsyas, I have no
doubt — confident in his own skill — bet his new goat-
skin coat against Apollo's fine town-made cloak, that
the judges would decide in his favour ; but, as we
have seen, he lost. With sad face, and downcast
eye, the hitherto victorious one turned to leave the
scene of his discomfiture, first promising to send back

AND THE BAGPIPE. I95

his goatskin when he got home. Apollo, however,
insisted on having the bet settled there and then : the
judges held this to be the law, and so poor Marsyas,
stripped of everything by the attendants, fled from
before the face of the jeering crowd naked and
ashamed. This was the flaying alive of Marsyas.

The other part of the myth, in which we are told
that the blood of Marsyas formed a river down which
his Pipe was carried for many a weary mile ; but
which ultimately cast them up, — notice the plural
here I — one on each bank, symbolises the spread of
the "Pipe" m Arcadia.

Marsyas' Pipe was afterwards found and brought
to Apollo, who made it his own instrument thence-
forward ; which conclusion to the story proves, in
short, that the City Greeks adopted the Shepherd's
Pipe, although reluctantly, and only after it had
spread throughout the country districts of Greece.

This latter part of the myth is borne out by a small
bronze statue of Apollo which was discovered some
time ago, in so far at least as he is there represented,
with a lyre strapped on in front and a Bagpipe
behind: the Bagpipe still taking an inferior position
to the lyre in the Greek's estimation.

Now, Ruskin tells us that Athene was the author
of the double Pipe, which she invented tc represent the
hissing of the Gorgonian serpent.

We know that this Pipe, after the death of Marsyas,
fell into Apollo's hands. This is the myth, but
history now comes upon the scene and tells us that
Apollo's Pipe, which was the Greek Pythaulos, was a

196 SOME REMINISCENCES

Bagpipe. And further, that it was used to represent
the hisses and the groans of the "wounded serpent^ at
the Pythonic games, which were held annually in
honour of Apollo. If you have followed my argu-
ment so far, you will understand why I believe
that in the myth of Athene and her Pipe — the Pipe
which played by itself — we have the earliest sugges-
tion of a Bagpipe.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THEOCRITUS AND THE BAGPIPE.

"\"\ TE shall now leave the flowery mazes of Myth-
land, — that realm of fancy and imagination —
and descend to the safer, if more prosaic paths of
written History, in our search after further informa-
tion on the Bagpipe.

If I have not already wearied you with my idle
excursions into the dim and misty past as we have it
represented in Greek myth ? If you do not reckon
me one of the people " who" — as the Psalmist says —
— "imagine a vain thing?" I shall ask you once
more to accompany me to the sunny South : to the
land of romance, and song, and piping : "to the land
which the old Greek has revealed to us : a land full of
wonder and beauty, full of grandeur and majesty,
haunted by the echoes of human laughter and tears :
where truth and fiction still live in loving union
together, and truth borrows grace from fiction, and
fiction gathers dignity from truth." And in this
country I shall introduce you to a man who knew
more of pipers and of piping than any other man of
his day and generation. Some of you will immedi-

198 SOME REMINISCENCES

ately recognise in him an old friend : to others he will
be a comparative stranger : while to a few he may be
wholly unknown, as his writings — and how delightful
these are! — have been too much neglected both at
school and college.

It is of Theocritus the Greek poet that I would
write. He is the great authority on the Piob or
Shepherd's Pipe : the great delineator of Greek pas-
toral life in the old days. What he did not know of
the shepherd and his Pipe is not worth knowing.
While his writings are worthy of being read for their
own sake, the poet is at the same time the prince of
good fellows, in whose charming company the cares
and worries of daily life are forgotten.

Should it ever be your unhappy lot to suffer from
brain-fag, while the needful holiday is still in the far
distance, try what a study of the old Greek poet's
Idylls will do for you. If your Greek has gone musty,
there are several good translations to choose from.
Of these, I prefer the one by Lang, in the "Golden
Treasury " series, for the sake of its scholarly intro-
duction. There is also a metrical translation by
Calverly : a delightful book in its way: a poet's trans-
lation of a poet. And if you wish a more literal
rendering of the Greek, you will find it in " Bohn's
Library." But the charm of the original infects all
three, and for us, in this way, Theocritus becomes
thrice eloquent.

Here, without doubt, we have a writer who can
describe for us things and men as he saw them two
thousand years ago. In his Idylls, there is no stilted

AND THE BAGPIPE. IQQ

artificiality : naturalness overflows in every line : the
laughter of bygone years still echoes through his
pages ; the tears still wet them. With curtains
drawn to shut out the slushy, sloppy streets, and
feet made comfortable in well-toasted slippers, you
can — with this little book in your hand — enjoy the
pleasures of a country life while seated comfortably at
your own fireside.

The poet, who makes the most fascinating of guides,
will put back for you the hands of the clock of time
two thousand years and more. In the twinkling of an
eye he will transport you from this cold, bleak climate
of ours, dark with winter fogs, or moist from dripping
autumn skies, to a land of perpetual sunshine and
blue ethers, and midsummer spice-laden airs and
passionate flower-blossoming. Basking in the sun-
shine of his geniality, you will forget to shiver at the
cold. The winter blast, rocking without and making
the shuttered window creak and groan like some dis-
embodied spirit in pain, will blow past unheeded, as
you walk arm-in-arm with the poet through the streets
of Syracuse, the city of his birth : the city he most
loved — "sunniest of sunny cities, and Greekest of
Greek."

Or passing out through the city gates into the
country beyond — that country which he knew and
loved so well, and where he spent so many happy
days — you will find your cares fall from your
shoulders, like a cast-off garment, as you wander
with him in the meadows, already brilliant with
" bells and flowerets of a thousand hues," where

200 SOME REMINISCENCES

first he met the little girl piping to Hippocoon's
field-workers.

In these Idylls the poet has caught and made
captive for us the warm spice-laden breezes
that ever float up from the blue waters of the
Mediterannean.

The sunshine of cloudless skies he has enticed
into his pages, and it still warms the figures of
Demeter and his love-feasters, of shepherd and
shepherdess, of piper and singer, so that they,
too, look out of the page at you with laughter in
their eyes and smiles on their lips as real as when
in life. So life-like, indeed, are this poet's creations
that, as Mrs Browning once said of those of another
and greater poet, if you were to put real men and
women beside them, the best stop-watch in the world
could not detect the least difference in the beating
of their hearts.

But — you may well ask the question ! — what has all
this got to do with the Bagpipe ? Not much,
perhaps, but I was led to study Theocritus because
more than one writer — in a more or less vague sort of
way, certainly — had referred to Theocritus as being
the first author to mention the Bagpipe.

Well, I have searched for Sumphonia^ the Greek
word for Bagpipe, in the original text, and again in
the three different translations mentioned above, and
I have completely failed to find it.

Pythaulos, and Bumbaiilos, two other names given
at a later date by the old Greeks to the Pipe, are
also conspicuous by their absence. In short.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 20I

Theocritus, who was born about 300 B.C., does not
mention the Bagpipe at all.

But I learned two things from my research.

I learned anew, and with increasing emphasis, the
beautiful truth which is embodied in the saying of the
old philosopher, *' If you offered me the choice of
Truth in the one hand, or the Pursuit after Truth
in the other, I should choose the latter."

I did not find any reference to the Bagpipe in
*' Theocritus " — the truth which I was in pursuit
of — but the pursuit itself was a delight and a
treasure, and through it I spent many weeks of
unadulterated happiness some years ago, wandering
in the company of one of the world's great masters,
utterly indifferent to the sleet and snow and biting
cruel winds that so often brought the short days of
a particularly stormy winter to a close.

I learned also this important fact, that the Bagpipe
was unknown to Theocritus and — by implication —
to the Greeks of the third century B.C.

The Idylls are filled with descriptions of pipers
and piping.

The first Idyll opens up with these words —

" Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes
Low music o'er the spring, and goatherd, sweet
Thy piping ; thou art matched by Pan alone."

While the last Idyll sings somewhat after this

fashion — I have not the book before me !

"Oh that my father had taught me the care of
sheep, that I might sit in the shade of the wide-
spreading tree, or in the cool of the overhanging
rock, and there pipe away my sorroivs. "

202 SOME REMINISCENCES

Every page, indeed, betrays an intimate acquaint-
ance with the different instruments used by the shep-
herds or goatherds of his time. There are three
different kinds of Pipe mentioned by the poet, and
these are called Aulos^ Aulos-calamus , and Syrinx.
We have a minute description given of these various
forms, even to the number of holes in each, and to
the kind of wax and thread used in binding the
reeds together. We also find continual references tc
piping contests in the Idylls, so that it is impossible
to believe that the most important of the Pipe family
could be overlooked, by the poet whose delight was
in m.inute word-painting of pastoral scenes. This
careful recorder of the old simple, kindly, country
life — with those keen eyes of his that missed not the
twittering of a single leaf on the tree : with those
keen ears of his that heard voices in the murmur of
the bratling stream, and in the whispering of the
flowers, as they bent and nodded to the gentle breeze
— could never have so completely overlooked the
King of Pipes if it had been in existence in his day.
Even against his will it would have forced itself upon
his attention during those constant country rambles
in which he so delighted. For, what does this poet
write about ? It is not of the city and its busy life —
although occasionally he ruffled it at court with
the best of the young bloods : luxury and wealth he
rarely mentions. His theme is the country, with its
simple joys and sorrows, where money counts for
little, because there is so little of it to count.
Nothing is too small for him to take notice of!

AND THE BAGPIPE. 203

The grateful shade of the pine tree ; the singing of
the lark in the blue ether ; the restless moaning of the
sea by the lonely shore ; the cool sound of the waters
falling over the face of the rock ; the sweet scent of
verbena, and lily, and wild thyme ; the lowly goat-
herd contesting for the piper's prize, dressed in a new
goatskin, with the fresh smell of the rennet still
clinging to it ; the little girl piping in the field to
encourage the harvesters in their work ; the midnight
revel at the neatherd's cabin ; the poor fisherman in
his hut of wattles, dreaming golden dreams down by
the marshes — almost the only gold he mentions.
These are the subjects he delights to dwell upon :
always, however, coming back to piping, piping,
piping.

We may take it, then, that in Theocritus' time,
say 270 B.C., the Bagpipe was unknown to the
Greek, whether of the town or country. This
is something worth knowing, something worth
remembering. When the Bagpipe was introduced
into Greece the people had no name ready for it,
and so they christened this instrument of many
sounds Sumphoiiia, or the many-sounding one.
The Romans came to know of it much later than
the Greeks. They received it from two sources — a
Celtic and a Greek source — as I hope immediately to
prove. We must therefore look for the origin of the
Piob-Mhor elsewhere than in Greece or Rome.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE CLASSICS AND THE BAGPIPE.

TN that grandest of all Classics, the Bible, we find
the earliest historical reference to the Bagpipe.

The Bagpipe is mentioned in both the Old and the
New Testaments, under the titles of Sumponyah and
Sumphonias respectively — the accent being upon the
y and the i.

'Zvjut.ipcoi'La — a Greek word which had been in use for
nearly three hundred years before the advent of the
Bagpipe in Greece, and which meant harmony — was
the name which the Greeks gave to the little Shep-
herd's Pipe when they had enlarged it, and made
various improvements upon it, and fashioned it to
their own mind.

These improvements were so considerable, and
altered the tone, and, indeed, the whole complexion
of the little Pipe so completely, that they entitled the
makers to call the instrument thus transformed by a
Greek name, although they were only improvers and
not the inventors of the Bagpipe : and in this way the
diminutive Pipos became the great Sumphonia.

Nor were the Greeks selfishly disposed to keep the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 205

knowledge of the new instrument to themselves, but
on the contrary, they freely spread its fame abroad,
and so brought the hitherto little-known Bagpipe into
repute among the different peoples with whom they
came in contact. And if philology be at all a safe
guide, they introduced it into Syria, Persia, Palestine,
Egypt, and the countries to the east and south-east of
the Holy Land ; for in those different countries, in the
second and first centuries B.C., we find it always called
by its Greek name of Sumphotiia.

The Greeks then, it must be acknowledged, were
great disseminators of the Bagpipe, but this is not
equivalent to saying, as some writers quite recently
have said, that the Greeks invented the Bagpipe, and
that Arcadia was its home. The Greeks were re-
ceivers, before they became givers. Civilisation and
all that this term implies — Celtic music, for example,
and the different arts and sciences in their rude and
primitive forms — first flowed into Greece, ere she gave
the world its own back again, disguised, it is true,
often beyond recognition in its new and beautiful
Greek dress.

In short, these gifts from the outside became en-
nobled and purified in their passage through the
alembic of the Greek mind, and the delighted nations
received their own once more, but enhanced in value
a thousandfold.

In this way the Bagpipe, although only an adopted
instrumeiit, fared well at the hands of the Greek.
The simple single-reeded Shepherd's Pipe, with its
scale of three or four notes, and its bag made of the

206 SOME REMINISCENCES

Stomach or bladder of a goat, — the original Pioh of
the Celt — became the many-sounding, many-reeded
powerful Sumphonia of the Greek, with a whole goat-
skin for a bag. This enlarged Pipe, which soon
became the favourite instrument of priests and kings,
the Greeks endowed with a surpassing vitality, so
that it has survived the choppings and changes of
time for two thousand years and more, and we can see
it to-day in all its pristine glory, perambulating our
streets and alleys, still a very real live symphony,
voicing for us in these degenerate days — but only
very occasionally, I grieve to say — the old Greek
music.

This Bagpipe, a fine specimen of which is shewn in
the photograph opposite, and which is called by the
Italians in the south of Italy Zampogna — the old
Greek word, but slightly altered — is better known as
the Calabrian Shepherd's Pipe. The set in the photo-
graph was unearthed — after a good deal of trouble —
in Rome some eight or nine years ago, and presented
to me by a Falkirk friend, and is said to be very old.
The drones were crumbling into dust when I first got
them, but a liberal application of oil and eucalyptus
checked further decay. Its neighbour is said to be
in the Oxford Museum.

The ancient Greek Sumphonia^ then, was a Drone
Bagpipe in the strictest sense of the word. It was
simply a collection of drones of different lengths —
several of them pierced with holes like a chanter — in
harmony with each other, and inserted into an air-
tight bag ; the chanter when present being a separate

AND THE BAGPIPE. 207

entity. When the chanter-player was absent, the real
piper droned along pleasantly by himself. This
ancient form of Drone Pipe is still to be seen and
heard in Southern Italy, in Sicily, and in Greece ;
and nearly every summer our own country is visited
by one or more bands of strolling Italian pifferari^ as
these pipers are called. The photograph opposite is
one which I took in front of my own house. It shews
a characteristic group of these Italian performers,
and also shews their method of playing upon the
Zampogna. The chanter is in the hands of the
pompous-looking individual on the extreme left of the
picture, and next to him is the zampognatore, or
piper proper. Notice the enormous size of the
drones ; they are the largest that I have ever
seen, but in spite of this they gave forth low soft
music. The woman with the tambourine, and the
little rogue with the bird-cage, are unnecessary
accidentals.

I took a photograph of another group of Italian
pipers some weeks earlier than the one shewn here.
It was to complete a series of magic-lantern slides
which I was anxious to shew next evening at a
Bagpipe lecture. Being in a hurry, I sent the film
to be developed by my daughter, knowing that she
would do it quicker than the average photographer,
and set off hopefully on my afternoon's round.
When I got back in the evening, all impatient to
know the result, the first question I put was, " Has
Nelly done my pipers?"

"There is a note from Nelly: it has just come:

208 SOME REMINISCENCES

you can read it ! " said my wife. And what I read,
with sinking heart and falling face, was this —

'* Dear mother, — Break it gently to father. He has
drowned his pipers." I read no further, but turned
to the picture. The explanation of the phenomenon
flashed upon me in a moment. Taking sea-waves in
Tiree the week before, I had omitted to turn off the
last film, and there, in the midst of the angry waters,
with nothing but their heads shewing through the
salt sea-spray, the poor pifferari looked out at me
with reproachful eyes. Sure enough, I had drowned
my pipers. But to return to the Greek Bagpipe !
The chanter, which still remains divorced from the
drones, has a much wider range of notes now than
it had in days gone by. This is partly due to a
peculiar method the player has got of pinching the
reed with his lips when playing, and partly due to
the addition of extra notes ; and although it has very
little music of its own, and that little of a very ancient
order, the extended scale unfortunately lends itself to
all kinds of modern airs, which are accordingly played
upon it by these strolling players with great vigour,
to the inglorious accompaniment of tambourine,
triangle, cymbal, and drum, and to the utter disgust
of all genuine lovers of the Bagpipe. But as to the
thing itself — the SumpJionia ! — modern improvements
have passed it by, leaving it untouched and primitive
as when it was played upon before the golden image
set up by the great King Nebuchadnezzar, and when
at its call the princes and the mighty of the land
bowed down and worshipped.

Italian Pifkerari.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 2O9

As a good deal of misapprehension has arisen
over the meaning of the word Sumphonia — a mis-
apprehension which has acted prejudicially in the
past to the claims of the Bagpipe — a few words
of explanation may not be thought amiss at this
stage.

Sumphonia is first met with in Plato {h 429 B.C.),
where it means harmony, or symphony. For over
two hundred years it retained this meaning. The
harmony might be one of voices, or of instruments,
or of a combination of these two. But about the end
of the third, or beginning of the second century,
B.C., the word came to mean a specific musical
instrument — the Bagpipe ; it being the thing which
produced the harmony; and this latter meaning it
has ever since retained.

Polybius, who flourished exactly one hundred

years after Theocritus, is the first writer next to

Daniel to use the word in its new meaning. To

those classical scholars who did not recognise when

the change took place, or did not perceive that the

change was a permanent one, the word became a

stumbling-block, and so arose those misconceptions in

the Bible and elsewhere which have gathered round

Sumphonia. In this way Sumponyah in Daniel iii. 5

(which is just the Greek word for Bagpipe transcribed

into Aramaic) was translated dulcimer — a stringed

instrument. "To you it is commanded, O people,

nations, and languages, that at what time ye hear

the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery,

dulcimer'''' — i.e., Bagpipe — "and all kinds of music,

210 SOME REMINISCENCES

ye fall down and worship the golden image that
Nebuchadnezzar the king hath set up."

There was some excuse for the old divines going
astray on this occasion, because when the Bible was
first translated, the Book of Daniel was supposed to
have been written in the reign of Nebuchadnezzar,
who ruled over Babylon some six hundred years
before the Christian era, and at that time if the
word Sumphonia existed at all, which is more than
doubtful, it did not mean a musical instrument, and
could not therefore be the Bagpipe.

But the context shewed those old divines that
a complex instrument of some sort was intended,
and taking the first meaning of the word, — a con-
cord of sounds — what instrument was more likely
to be meant than a many-stringed instrument like
the dulcimer, which gave to the sweep of the
fingers or to the tappings of the plectrum a har-
monious combination of sounds ?

It was a very good guess on the part of the old
translators, but it was nothing more than a guess,
and one which we, to-day, know to have been mis-
leading.

All classical scholars are now, however, agreed that
the Book of Daniel was not written for at least
three hundred years after the reign of Nebuchad-
nezzar, and this knowledge, which was not available
to the earlier critics, has cleared up many dark
problems in the book, including the true meaning
of the word Sumponyah. It is quite incomprehen-
sible to me why, under these circumstances, the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 211

translators of the revised Bible should have left the
word dulcimer in the text, and only timorously-
inserted *'or Bagpipe" in the margin.

Now, arguing from this word alone, and seeing
that it is a Greek word, which only came into use
some one hundred and fifty years after Nebuchad-
nezzar's time; and that it was first used by the
Greeks in the sense of Bagpipe about 170 B.C., I
am at one with those Biblical scholars who believe
the Book of Daniel to have been written — in part
at least during the reign of Antiochus (175-168 B.C.),
and, in corroboration of this view I would point
out that a large part of Daniel is devoted to an
account of the Syrian monarch and his doings, — he
is the "Little Horn" in the book — and it is in con-
nection with this same Antiochus, King of Syria, that
Polybius first mentions the Bagpipe. Polybius thus
divides the honour with Daniel of being one of the
two first writers to mention the "Pipes" in history,
and both give it the same title of Sumphonia, which
shews that the Jews were familiar with the Greek
Bagpipe in very early times. It is also more than
probable that Antiochus, who was a great propagator
of everything Greek, first introduced the Pipe into
Palestine.

Now this Antiochus was a grevious thorn in the
side of the Jewish nation, and there is no doubt that
he treated it badly on more than one occasion. The
Jews could only retaliate upon him by giving him a
bad character, which they accordingly did. In spite
of this bad character, which has stuck to him ever

212 SOME REMINISCENCES

since, the king was a strong man in many ways, and
a good ruler over his own people. He was also a
good soldier, and a man of refined tastes, and ener-
getic to his finger tips. He was, however, an
undoubted mischief-maker : a genius run to seed,
and his prototype is to be seen to-day in the person
of a very high and mighty European potentate
who is also a constant "thorn in the flesh" to his
neighbours.

Epiphanes, he called himself, or God manifest.
"Yea, he magnified himself even to the Prince of
the host " ; but his contemporaries called him Epi-
manes, or the madman, playin-g in Greek fashion
upon the word Epiphanes.

Now in reading Polybius, one is left in doubt as
to whether the Syrian monarch did not himself play
upon the Bagpipe, as well as keep pipers. The
Bagpipe which his piper proper played upon was a
Drone Pipe, exactly like the present Greek and
Calabrian Pipe, and a second player blew the chanter.
This much we learn from one passage, where we
are told that the king was in the habit of stealing out
at night with his pipers, and if he came upon a
band of young men enjoying themselves in a quiet
place, he would creep near them, unseen, and with a
sudden blast upon " the chanter and Bagpipe," so
startle them that they fled as if the devil were behind
them. Which latter statement also points to the
fact that the Bagpipe was of very recent introduction
into Syria, and but little known as yet among the
people.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 213

In another passage of his book, Polybius tells us
that Antiochus danced to the music of the *' Pipes."

Antiochus, you will perhaps remember, had esta-
blished games at Daphne, on a scale of unparalleled
magnificence, so as to eclipse the world-famed Roman
games held in Macedonia ; and on this occasion, the
ceremonies were opened by a procession headed by
the king in person, which took a whole day to pass a
fixed point, and which even to-day beggars descrip-
tion in its magnificence.

It w^as during this festival, which lasted thirty days,
and at one of the costly banquets given nightly by
the king, — and when men had well drunken — that the
incident about to be related occurred. I will give it
in the words of Polybius, as translated by Shuck-
burgh, who, clever scholar and great authority though
he be, misses the meaning of the Greek word Sum-
phonia.

"And when the festivities had gone on for a long
time, and a good many of the guests had departed,
the king was carried in by the mummers, completely
shrouded in a robe, and laid upon the ground as
though he were one of the actors. Then at the signal
given by the music" — i.e.^ by the Zu/x^Wa, or Bag-
pipe ! — "he leapt up, stripped, and began to dance
with the jesters, so that all the guests were scandalised
and retired. In fact, every one who attended the
festival, when they saw the extraordinary wealth dis-
played at it, the arrangements made in the processions
and games," — all conducted by the king in person —
"and the scale of splendour on which the whole was

214 SOME REMINISCENCES

managed, were struck with amazement and wonder
both at the king, and the greatness of his kingdom ;
but when they fixed their eyes on the man himself," —
stripped! — "and the contemptible conduct to which
he condescended, they could scarcely believe that so
much excellence and baseness could exist in one and
the same breast."

So much for Antiochus and his *' Pipes."
Mentioned once in the Old Testament, the Bagpipe
is also once mentioned in the New Testament. This
occurs in the parable of the Prodigal Son. Now
the Master always illustrated His object lessons from
the daily life around. His illustrations, which were
addressed to the poor and the illiterate, commended
themselves to the simplest intelligence, and were
forcible in proportion to their simplicity. The very
titles of these parables shew this. We have, for
example, the parable of the Sower and the Seed ; the
parable of the Lost Sheep ; of the Unjust Steward ; of
the Marriage Feast ; of the Prodigal Son. He spoke
of things which were familiar to His hearers: of things
which were being enacted daily under their very eyes;
and for this reason any inaccuracies would at once
be detected by His audience. When, therefore. He
introduces the Bagpipe and the chorus or dance as
the outward signs of the joy felt over the return of the
prodigal, we may take it that the Bagpipe and the
dance in conjunction were well known to the common
people among the Jews of Christ's time : a fact which
has been boldly denied by more than one writer.
Those responsible for the revised edition of the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 215

Bible, which I do not wonder has "fallen flat," have
here again failed — it seems to me — to do their duty.
They have translated the words, ^ ' tJKova-e crvfKpwvla^

Ktti x^P^^y' o**' ^s ^^^y ^^^^ *" ^^^ Latin, '■'■ andivet
symphoniam et chorum,'' into the emasculate sen-
tence, "and he heard music and dancing," when it
should have been "and he heard the Bagpipe and
dancing." Not as a scholar — which I do not profess to
be — but as a lover of fairplay, and a Highlander who
has some regard for this old and "semi-barbarous"
instrument, I must enter my protest here, and assert
that the Bagpipe deserves better recognition in the
future from critics and translators than it has had
vouchsafed to it in the past.

It should no longer be entirely slurred over in the
New Testament, or marked only by a marginal refer-
ence in the Old ; and Greek scholars should recognise
by now, that Sumphonia in the pages of Polybius,
means a musical instrument, and only one musical
instrument, the Bagpipe.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE NATIVITY AND THE BAGPIPE.

TT is a curious and interesting fact, that tradition
associates piping with two of the greatest events
which ever happened in the world's history : the
Nativity and the Crucifixion. And it is more than
passing strange, that Christ Himself should supply
those, who like myself believe in the tradition of the
shepherds piping on Christmas morn, with a very
important link in the chain of evidence.

As I pointed out in last chapter, it has been
asserted that the Bagpipe was unknown to the Jews,
or at least that there was no evidence that it was
known, and that it could not therefore be the instru-
ment which these poor shepherds played upon.

Christ's reference to it in the parable of the Prodigal
settles the question for all time : it shews clearly, that
in His day the Bagpipe was well known to the pas-
toral peoples in Palestine, and further, that it was an
instrument of some repute, otherwise it would not be
found in the home of the rich and great.

Now, with regard to the traditions which have
gathered round the birth and the death of our Lord,

The Zampogna of Italy : the Old Simphonia of
THE Greeks.

Bought in Rome and presented to the Author by Mrs Aitkicn
of Gartcows, Falkirk.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 217

sacred and profane writers are at one in asserting that
strange and hitherto unheard of phenomena marked
these events.

The world, which was satiated with and heartily-
sick of its owm licentiousness, was expecting and
eagerly watching for the advent of a deliverer, and
the expected at length came to pass, but not in the
expected way. No earthly, no human pomp and
glory, found room for display in a cold rude
manger. The simple birth was a distinct disappoint-
ment to the Jews, with their love of phylacteries
and fondness of outward display. It was different,
however, with nature.

We read in the Gospel of St. James of strange hap-
penings which took place at the birth of Christ : of
how the world stood motionless in awe and wonder !
Of how the song of bird, and the lowing of calf,
and the bleat of lamb, was hushed ; and the chatter
of women was turned into silence. And there were
workmen lying on the earth with their hands in a
vessel and — to give the very words of St. James,
they are so extraordinary ! — " those who handled
did not handle it, and those who took did not lift,
and those who presented it to their mouth did not
present it, but the faces of all were looking up ; and
I saw the sheep scattered, and the shepherd lifted up
his hand to strike, and his hand remained up ; and
I looked at the stream of the river, and the mouths of
the kids were down and were not drinking ; and
everything which was being propelled forward was
intercepted in its course."

2l8 SOME REMINISCENCES

To the shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem a
glimpse of the real glory of the event was shewn ;
wonderful sights were seen, and angel voices spoke
glad tidings. To these lonely midnight watchers,
guarding their flocks from the attack of wild beast,
or roaming thief, the hush and the darkness were
suddenly broken into. A great light shone round
about them, and out of the midst of it came a voice
like a trumpet call — the voice of the Herald Angel
proclaiming " Peace on earth, to men of goodwill."
Quickly these two phenomena came, and as quickly
they fled, and once more all was still on the
plains, but for the tumultuous beating of over-
joyous hearts, and once more all was darkness but
for the glorious light which shone within, never
more to be quenched.

As the great, the all-absorbing, truth dawned upon
these simple folk in all its radiancy, they felt their joy
too great to be "pondered in their hearts" ; it must
have some outward expression, and what better way
than Christ's way in the parable of the Prodigal
Son.

So, tuning up their Bagpipes, while the wondering
sheep gathered around, they gave vent to their
surcharged feelings in sweet strains of praise that
startled for the second time on that eventful night
the starry silence of the skies.

This beautiful tradition is still kept alive in the
Roman Catholic Church.

In Rome, or in any of the great cities in Italy,
it is the habit of the people to erect at Christmas time

AND THE BAGPIPE. 219

a grotto representing the manger in which Christ was
born. In it they place a live ox and a live ass,
while Mary is represented by a young woman with
a babv in her arms.

Some distance beyond is a green patch with
shepherds piping ; these pipers are always present ;
they represent the shepherds on the plains of
Bethlehem.

At Christmas time, too, the shepherds come down
in numbers from the hills to the towns, and there
they stand all day long playing before the little
shrines of the Virgin and her Child, which are to
be seen at the corners of the streets.

An Englishman once — with more money possibly
than sensibility — a well-groomed, pompous English-
man ! — said with a sneer to one of these humble
players, "Who are you playing to?" The shepherd
pointed to the shrine of the Virgin Mary. ** What ! "
said the Englishman, "do you think a grown-up
woman could enjoy such wretched music as yours ? "
"Ah!" said the poor man, " ?/ is to the child I
am playing ; children are easily pleased."

In my experience, nothing pleases the little ones
more than the Bagpipe.

I remember once coming home late for dinner. I
found the house quiet and deserted. The mother
had gone out with the children to some entertainment.
Nobody seemed to expect me, so, tired and worried, I
threw myself down before the fire to rest. At that
moment my eye fell on one of the many Bagpipes
which I keep lying about. " Ah ! " I thought, " now

220 SOME REMINISCENCES

for a tune ! it's the very thing I want. Fiat justitia^
mat ccelum. Should the heavens rain, I will have a
tune." So, taking up the Pipe, I soon played my-
self back into a comfortable state of mind. I had
scarcely laid the instrument down when a knock at the
door announced the nurse. " Please, sir, do you
want anything to eat?" "My sensations decidedly
tend that way," I said ; " but where have you been?
Where is everybody?" "Out, sir; I am left alone
with baby, and when she discovered that her mother
had gone out, and the rest of the children with her,
she got into a state of panic, and it has been the
cry with her ever since, ' Hold baby's hand, nuss !
Hold baby's hand ! ' But this is what I wanted to
tell you, sir. You had not been playing many
seconds, when she said to me, ' Let doe baby's hand,
nuss ! 'Oo can doe now ! Baby's doin' to seep ! '
and she did go to sleep while you were still
tuning up."

I could not resist the temptation of having a peep
into the nursery, and stole upstairs on tip-toe, and
there lay the little one — the lately, wide-eyed, terror-
stricken one — with a smile upon her lips, sound
asleep ; dreaming, perhaps, of the piper-shepherds
on the plains of Bethlehem : a little pink spot upon
her sweet cheek alone hinting at the late storm,
through which she had passed.

Children as a rule do love the Bagpipe, as I have
had innumerable opportunities of proving; but it may
be, as the poor Italian piper said, only " because they
are easily pleased."

CHAPTER XXVI.

AN OLD TRADITION.

"VTOW! if the world were awe-struck at the Nativity,
^^ it was thunder-stricken at the Crucifixion. "For
three hours," St. Matthew tells us, "there was dark-
ness over all the land." And when the weary spirit
of the Crucified One, with "a loud cry," passed into
the beyond, "behold the veil of the temple was rent
in twain from top to bottom ; and the earth did quake,
and the rocks rent ; and the graves were opened ; and
the sleepers awoke."

When the Jewish mob, filled with insensate passion,
cried aloud for the blood of our Lord, and its prayer
was granted, then did the Christian religion become
firmly established.

Then did the old gods, tottering, fall each from
his golden chair.

Then did the oracles become for ever dumb.

Then did the Pipe fall from the nerveless fingers
of the dying Pan.

There is a tradition, first mentioned by Plutarch,
who wrote a few years after our Lord's death, record-
ing strange happenings which he attributes to Pan's

222 SOME REMINISCENCES

death, but which are supposed really to have occurred
at the Crucifixion.

It would have given a too great prominence to the
small, and — from the heathen point of view — insig-
nificant body called Christians, to attribute any such
extraordinary events as then happened, to the death of
their leader : the heathen gods in such a case would
be altogether eclipsed by the new and as yet little
known God, Christ. And so Plutarch tells the story
in his own way, with a bias towards heathendom.
Can we blame him heavily for this : for being faith-
ful to the gods of his fathers, and to the religion
instilled into his mind by his parents from his youth
upwards? To understand the story which Plutarch
tells, you have to read between the lines, keeping St.
Matthew's narrative in view. The old order is pass-
ing away, and this is the heathen writer's descrip-
tion of an event in which he may be said to have
participated.

One day, — he tells us — a sailor who was steering his
ship through the narrow windings of the ^gean Sea,
heard a voice commanding him in imperious fashion,
to cry aloud when he arrived at a certain place,
" Pan, Great Pan, is dead ! "

An eerie message to deliver, and got in an eerie
way, but the unseen voice shall be obeyed ! This
brave mariner accordingly, when opposite Palodis,
which was the appointed place, stepped on to the
poop of his ship, and raising his voice, cried aloud,
in stentorian accents, "Pan, Great Pan, is dead!"
And while his cry still reverberated from shore to

AND THE BAGPIPE. 223

shore, and from rock to rock, there went up from
all nature a cry of deepest agony and distress.

'* And that dismal cry rose slowly,
And sank slowly through the air ;
Full of spirits melancholy
And eternity's despair !
And they heard the words it said —
Pan is dead— great Pan is dead —
Pan, Pan is dead."

The sorrow was real, and the cry of anguish was
the cry of a thousand breaking hearts. Pan was a
great favourite with man and beast. His music was
divine. To dance to it once was to dream of it for
ever. The woodland creatures well may mourn,
for now that Pan is dead, no longer will nymphs
and swains dance in the cool of the evening to the
piping of the great piper. No longer will the birds
of the air and the beasts of the field gather round
to listen to the god's sweet music. No more will
his merry strains be heard at feast or harvesting.
There is none to fill Pan's chair.

No wonder, then, if at such a time, sounds of
universal mourning fill the grove and echo through
the vale.

The sun heard the cry in high heaven, and fled
shuddering to its rest through lowering banks of
golden cloud ; the sea was troubled and turned to
blood ; the air grew dark and sulphurous.

And again, and again, and yet again, that mourn-
ful sound as of universal weeping, and of wailing,
and of great lamentation, rose out of the darkness

224 SOME REMINISCENCES

and swept over the land, and sped along the
deep.

The awful scenes, as depicted in the pages of
Plutarch, might well stand for a representation of
Dante's " Inferno." The very earth rocked on its
axis.

" And the rowers from the benches
Fell, each shuddering-, on his face —
While departing influences
Struck a cold, back through the place :
And the shadows of the ships
Reeled along the passive deep —
Pan, Pan is dead."

In the last verse, Mrs Browning places the tradition
before us in exquisite phrase, wresting it from its
heathen setting and giving it its proper Christian
interpretation. She tells us why nature was thus
convulsed : why the sun was darkened, and the veil
of the temple was rent in twain.

" 'Twas the hour when One in Sion
Hung for love's sake on a cross —
When His brow was chill with dying
And His soul was faint with loss :
When His priestly blood dropped downward,
And His kingly eyes looked throneward —
Then, Pan was dead."

With the passing away of the old god in such
tragic fashion, much that made life worth living in
those so distant times also departed. With much
that was dissolute and false, much also that was
wholesome and true, such as the Sumphonias et

AND THE BAGPIPE. 225

choritm of St. Matthew, was swept away in the cata-
clysm of events succeeding the Crucifixion, and a
great blank was left in the lives and thoughts of
men, which for a time, not even the new God —
Christ — could fill. The old music of the Bagpipe,
about this time retired from the notoriety gained in
town and village on the plains, to the quiet and
exclusion of the everlasting hills, and we hear little
more of it for three hundred years or more ; truly,

" The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils Himself in many ways
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world."

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE ROMANS AND THE BAGPIPE.

■1/[ANY people to-day believe that the Romans
-*■ -'• were the inventors of the Bagpipe. Many
people also believe that the Celt borrowed it from
the Romans.

Both beliefs, fostered largely — I am sorry to say —
by expert ignorance in the past, are erroneous.

The Bagpipe was first introduced to the Greeks
in the early half of the second century, B.C.

Two hundred years later it was still unknown
to the citizens of Rome ; which fact settles once
and for all their claims to its invention.

Granted that the Bagpipe came from without,
its earlier introduction into Greece is what one
would expect when the history of the two peoples
is kept in mind. Greece was a mighty world-wide
power, while Rome was still in swaddling clothes,
and she naturally — pushing out her colonies, now
here, now there — came first in contact with the
Celt, and with the Celt's instrument, the Bagpipe.

Her dominions extended from Italy — the southern
half of which she occupied — and Sicily on the west,

AND THE BAGPIPE. 227

to India on the east ; from the countries round
the Black Sea on the north, to Alexandria and
the Nile Valley on the south ; and at every point
she came in contact with new peoples, including
three separate Celtic nationalities ; civilising and
being civilised ; teaching and being taught.

It was not until hundreds of years after, and only
when Grecian influences were on the wane, that
Rome rose to greatness. Then, and then only was
she able, largely out of the ruins of ^^ Magna
GrecicB'" to build up for herself that mighty empire,
which at one time looked like lasting till the crack
of doom.

It is no wonder then, that Greece first adopted
the Bagpipe, or that the Romans, finding it in Sicily
and Calabria after they became masters in these
places, retained it in their service, but without
improving upon it in any way, and have kept it
even to the present day as the Greeks left it, and
with the old Greek name of the harmonious one
still attached to it.

But what of the Celt borrowing it from the Roman ?

This contention is easily disproved by the follow-
ing references to the Bagpipe, taken from Roman
history.

Mr MacBain, of Inverness, quotes the Rev. Mr
MacLachlan, of London — a well-known Gaelic scholar
— as being on his side, when he denies that the Pipe
was known to any of the early Celtic nations ; but
history is against Mr MacBain in this one, as in
others of his many fallacies on the Bagpipe. We

228 SOME REMINISCENCES

have a history of two events of different dates to
help us in coming to a decision on this question.

The first event is one taken from the recorded Hfe
of the Emperor Nero, which makes it pretty certain
that the Bagpipe was unknown to the citizens of
Rome up to the year a.d. 67.

Nero's reign was drawing to a close. The emperor
had staged many a fine play for the Romans, but
none so grand, from the spectacular point of view, as
that upon vv^hich the tragic curtain had just been rung
down. In this scene, Rome, the Empress City of
the world, was to be seen in the background in
flames, while in the foreground, illuminated by the
glorious blaze of the doomed city, stood Nero,
gloating over his own handiwork, and dancing as
he fiddled. But now the curtain is being run up
for the last time, and it is in connection with the
closing scene in that pageant of horrors, that the
Bagpipe as a Roman instrument first comes on
the stage.

Utterly sickened by their ruler's licentiousness
and accumulated cruelties, the citizens of Rome at
length rose up against him. Blood for blood,
was their cry ; and Nero, seeing that they really
meant mischief, turned coward, and fled for his
life to a friend's house, some four miles out of the
city. But the infuriated mob, thirsting for fresh
excitement — the killing of an emperor was some-
thing new — were close upon his heels, and the
conscience-stricken man, now half mad with fear,
sent a trusty servant to meet his pursuers and give

AND THE BAGPIPE. 229

a message from him, in the hope of appeasing their
righteous anger, and of staying their further advance.
His message — a silly one at best ; a most unkingly
message ! — was in effect : " Give me another chance ;
spare my life this time, and I will provide you with
a treat — a something quite novel, and which you
have never witnessed before : I will play you a tune
on the latest and most marvellous of wind instruments,
the Bagpipe."

Now, whatever else Nero may have been, he was
no fool. He knew his people well, and he knew —
none better ! — that the love of novelty was a ruling
passion with the lower Roman orders. Many a
time and oft had he kept them in good humour
with his raree shows, even when he had to make
the streets of Rome run with blood. The one
essential, however, to success in these old Roman
days was the novelty of the display — it must be
something new.

And so, when the poor wretch believed that he
could buy the bloodthirsty crowd off with a tune on
the Bagpipe, we may be sure that the Roman ear
had not been tickled with it before. In short, that
the Romans and the Bagpipe were complete strangers
to each other up to the closing days of Nero's reign.
These events happened in a.d. 67.

But in 35 B.C., almost one hundred years before
Nero's death, one of the Roman historians tells us
that he heard this instrument, still strange to the
Romans, played upon by the Celts inhabiting the
mountains of Pannonia. Which again disposes

230 SOME REMINISCENCES

pretty effectually of the belief that the Celt borrowecf
it from the Romans, and also proves that it was a
Celtic instrument long before it became a Roman
one. As a matter of fact, the Bagpipe found its
way into Rome by two doors. It came in from the
north through the Celts, and from the south through
the Greeks. From the north through Pannonia and
Umbria, and from the south through Calabria and
Sicily.

The Celts of Pannonia and Umbria were both
powerful tribes in their day. It took the Romans
two long and hard campaigns to subdue the former.
The latter lived in the mountains to the north-west
of Rome, and although only sixty mJles from the
walls of the Eternal City, retained its independence
for many a long day ; and those two Celtic nations
used the Bagpipe, while the Roman players were
for many a long year after, blowing upon the tibia
pares or impares, with painfully distended cheeks
and paralysed lips — a butt for the jester's wit.

This Pipe from the north was a one-drone Bagpipe
with a chanter. The Romans called it Tibia Utricu-
laris^ but the Celts called it Pioh, or, in full,
Pivalla^ and to-day, while the Roman name of
Tibia Utricularis is forgotten, the Celtic name sur-
vives in the Italian Piva. The Romans called the
piper in the old days Utricularius ^ but the Celt
called him Piobaire (pron., Peeparuh), and to-day
the Italians have dropped Utricularius and call their
pipers Pifferari.

The Pipe, which came to the Romans from the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 23I

south, was a many-drone Bagpipe without a chanter,
the llvij.<pwvia of the Greeks — the Zampogna of the
Itah'ans, and the piper was called Zampogiiatore. It
was also called in the south the Corna-Musa^ and
the piper was then called Suonatore de Corna-Musa.
To-dav, however, the word for pipers all over Italy-
is Pifferari — the old Celtic word only slightly altered
— and this is but right where a Celtic instrument is
concerned, and is a good example of the survival of
the fittest, for I do not suppose that the Umbrians
ever used the name. Tibia Utricularis for Piob^ nor
did the Pannonian youth who were drafted into the
Roman army.

These two Italian Pipes, both of which are shown
in the illustrations which adorn the pages of this
book, are as distinct now — the one from the other —
as when different races inhabited the land. Their
geographical distribution has remained the same for
over two thousand years — so slow does the world
move. And so conservative are the nations — even
those which plume themselves upon their radicalism
— that the old Celtic name of the Pipe survives in
the north, and the old Greek name survives in the
south of Italy, although the people to-day are of one
race throughout the Peninsula — and that one a
race neither Celtic nor Greek.

But, once more, we still find the Bagpipe flourish-
ing in those countries where the old Greek and the
old Roman found it. In Pannonia, now repre-
sented by Bosnia, Servia, and part of Bulgaria ; in
Roumania; round about Constantinople, where the

232 SOME REMINISCENCES

Boii, a powerful Celtic tribe, once flourished; and in
Umbria — from whence came my Tibia Utriciilaris —
it is still kept alive by the shepherds in the hills.

Thousands of years have left it the same simple,
rude iustrument that it was in early days, and the
stranger to those countries may still hear among the
mountains the same simple, primitive strains which
greeted the ears of the astonished Greek soldier when
he first passed through the Straits of the Dardanelles
or coasted along the shores of the upper waters of
the Adriatic.

It is certain, then, that the Romans were not the
inventors of the Bagpipe, and that the Celt did not
borrow the instrument from the Romans, but lent
it to them.

Quite recently, I heard the statement put forward
in all seriousness, that we Highlanders got the Bag-
pipe from the Egyptians. I was spending a few
days last summer at Culfail, and when there I had
the pleasure of meeting the kind and genial Laird
of Melford, Captain Stoddart M'Lellan.

He displayed great enthusiasm over the Bagpipe,
and all matters Celtic, and we became friendly for the
day, owing to our tastes being in accord.

While discussing the Piob-M/ior, or Great War-
Pipe of the Highlands, he suddenly asked me,
"Where do you think the 'Pipes' came from
originally ? "

I answered cautiously, "Where?"

"From Egypt, of course!" he replied. "It is
the Sistrum of Egypt. I was at a meeting lately in

The Celtic Piva or Bagpipe of Northern Italy.

The ancient Tibia UtricuUiris ot the Romans a very old Pipe, as the worn
finger holes of the hard wahiut chanter shew.

The gift of Mr Sutherlanu, Solsgirth, Dollar.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 233

London of pipers and one or two others interested
in the Bagpipe, and we came to the conclusion
that it came originally from Egypt."

I did not tell him that the Egyptian Pipe was
nothing more nor less than the Greek Sutiiphonia,
a borrowed instrument, but I said, "You are
acquainted, I believe, with Eastern peoples, and
speak several of their languages, and you have
also studied, more or less, Egyptian hieroglyphics?
Have you ever seen a Bagpiper in hieroglyphic ? "

''No!"

" Then, why ascribe its origin to the Egyptians ? "

" Well, you see, we came to that conclusion in
London," which was no argument whatever, but the
best which the gallant Captain could advance.

This craze, on the part of Highlanders especially,
to find a far distant or outside origin for the Celtic
Pipe, is more than puzzling to me. I cannot
understand it at all. It was due at first, I think,
to the mistake of the Lowlander, taking the old
Highlander's blarney about its Roman origin, or
its Scandinavian origin, or its Egyptian origin, as
his real opinion and belief, while all the time the
blarney was invented for the amusement of the in-
quisitive stranger.

The Sistrujn and the Sumphonia of the Egyptians
are two distinct instruments.

The Sistrum consisted of a long narrow box bent
in horse-shoe shape, with the two ends fixed into a
carved handle. Three or four metal rods were run
through the box in loose sockets. When shaken,

234 SOME REMINISCENCES

this instrument produced a harmonious jingling
quite pleasant to the ear.

There is, I believe, one reference to this Sistrum
in Greek, under the title of Siimphonia^ although I
cannot at this moment recall where the reference is
to be found. The Greek writer who gave this name
to the Sistrum, must have used the word before it
was applied to the Bagpipe, and when it meant
only a harmonious combination of sounds such as
the Greek instrument gave forth when struck.
There is no other connection between Sistrum and
Bagpipe that I am aware of, and if the Egyptians
invented the Pipe for themselves, history and tradi-
tion are silent on the matter. The Greek Bagpipe
was introduced into Egypt and was made familiar
to the dwellers in Alexandria and surrounding
districts by Antiochus among others, and Prudentius,
the historian {b a.d. 300) informs his readers that
the Egyptians of his day used this same Pipe to
lead the soldiers on the battlefield.

In a magazine article which appeared lately,
called "Arcadia, the Home of the Bagpipe," the
writer claims the invention of the Bagpipe for the
Greeks. This is entirely opposed to the teach-
ing of the Greek myth which we have been con-
sidering.

There, the Bagpipe was the invention of one not
originally a Greek : it was played on by an outsider,
the Satyr, Marsyas ; and if Marsyas, as many good
scholars say, is no other than our old friend Pan,
the Pipe judge — Midas of the long ears — was also

AND THE BAGPIPE. 235

an outsider, and Arcadia was certainly not the
original home of the Bagpipe.

From what race was the Greek likely to borrow
the Bagpipe ? The Greeks themselves tell us — and
who should know so well? — that they borrowed their
music largely from the Celt. The very fact that both
Greek and Roman had various designations for Pipe
and piper, while the Celt had only one, seems to
me also to point to the latter as the inventor.

But while I hold, as much more than a "pious
opinion," that both nations got the Bagpipe from
the Celt, it would be unfair to say that the Greeks
and the Romans did not make any attempt to
invent it for themselves.

The severe strain upon the piper's cheek and
lip muscles was realised to be a serious drawback
by both peoples from a very early period, and the
" faces " made by the poor players was for long a
favourite butt with the court jesters.

To remedy this defect, both the Greeks and the
Romans hit upon the same plan. Support was
given to the tired muscles by means of an ingeni-
ously arranged combination of leather straps, which
were fastened to the head, and was called by the
Romans the " little cap." The remedy, however,
proved worse than the disease. The straps on the
face were held to be more ludicrous than the blown-
out cheeks, and, as a matter of fact, the female
players, who were the best judges in a question of
beauty, refused to wear the " little cap," and one
cannot help sympathising with them.

236 SOME REMINISCENCES

The invention, then, of this cap, was the two
great classical nations' sole contribution towards the
solving of the problem, which the Celtic shepherd
accomplished by putting the Pipe in a bag.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE SPREAD OF THE BAGPIPE.

T TOW did the Bagpipe first find its way into
■^ Britain?

It followed in the footsteps of the Celt. There
were two main Celtic invasions of Great Britain in
the early days, with a considerable interval between
the two, and many minor incursions during the
centuries that followed.

There was also, for a long time, a constant going
and coming carried on between the Celts in their
new-found island home, and their friends and rela-
tives who were left behind ; and in this way the
old traditions and customs peculiar to the race were
kept alive : they had all things in common, so to
speak, because the Celt of one tribe shared his
knowledge with the Celt of another tribe ; and this
is not difficult to believe, when we remember that in
those days there were no people so wedded to their
own ways, so conservative in their habits, or so
clannish towards each other as the Celtic peoples,
and none so gifted with imagination or so musical.
So lasting, indeed, are those racial characteristics,

238 SOME REMINISCENCES

that, even to-day, it is possible for a man of great
authority on the fine arts — like Sir Hubert Parry
— to say in all sincerity, that in spite of the advances
which the world has made since the old days of
Vv^hich we write, the Celtic leaven still leavens the
lump. "Celtic music," he says, "is the most
human, the most varied, the most poetical, and the
most imaginative in the world. "

While written history then is silent as to the
precise date of the introduction of the Bagpipe into
Britain, we need not despair of fixing an approxi-
mate date for ourselves. There is little doubt that
it arrived on our shores long before the Roman
invasion, and this deduction we can safely make, if
we can prove — which we have already done in the
preceding chapter — that the Celt knew of the Bag-
pipe long before the Roman — we are not speaking
here of its invention — and if we can prove that the
different Celtic tribes kept in touch with each other
long after they had broken away from the main
body. In this latter case, if the Pannonians. or the
Umbrians, or other Celtic body played on the
Bagpipe — as history asserts that they did — their
pipers would spread the custom among the other
Celtic tribes, if these had not got a knowledge of it
for themselves at the fountainhead.

Now, if you examine any good map of the ancient
world, you will at once see how well Celt kept in
touch with Celt. You will there find a range of
Celtic colonies, extending in an almost unbroken
succession — like so many links in a chain — from

AND THE BAGPIPE. 239

the shores of the Black Sea to the English Channel,
so that the different offshoots remained each within
easy hail of the other, and communication between
the most distant tribes would be easy and compara-
tively uninterrupted.

Along this Celtic chain, the Bagpipe travelled,
and it is from these same old Celtic resting-places
that my collection of Bagpipes has been gathered,
and in these countries to-day, almost without excep-
tion, the Bagpipe still flourishes, And, indeed, I
have found this combination of Celt and Bagpipe
so persistent, that I have come to say, "Tell me
where the old Celt settled, and I will tell you where
to look for the Bagpipe."

The Pipe, after spreading over the greater part of
Europe, had at first a very chequered career, more
especially in the large centres of population, for it
was ever a favourite with the scattered pastoral
peoples. It was, in fact, a useful weapon to the
shepherd, and all but indispensable, because "As
sheepe love pyping, therefore shepherdes use the
Pypes when they walk with their sheepe." But in
the town, fickle fashion ruled, and as the Pipe's
main use was now to while away time for the
"Weary Willies" of society, it had its continual
ups and downs, now basking in the sunshine of
royalty, now treated as a pariah and an outcast.

It is not our intention to deal here with the
many ups and downs which fell to the lot of the
Bagpipe during its long career, but we would only
remark, that the higher the wave of popularity on

240 SOME REMINISCENCES

which it was borne, the deeper was the succeeding
trough of neglect into which it fell. Take the
following — one example out of many — in illustration
of this. When at the height of its fame in the
seventh and eighth centuries, the Bagpipe might
be heard at all important games and high festivals
throughout Europe — wherever, in short, men were
gathered together, even when the gathering was one
of war; but from the ninth to the eleventh centuries
the same instrument — without rhyme or reason per-
ceptible— fell into complete disuse, and was almost
unheard of in town or court. The usual revival
followed this long period of repose, beginning in the
eleventh century, and continuing well on into the
thirteenth century, in the early years of which an
event took place which had ultimately an important
influence upon the Bagpipe in France.

In a secluded valley far away among the mountains,
a little boy was born of humble parents. Colin
Muset was his name. As he grew up he developed
a genius for piping, and soon far outstripped his
only teachers — the poor shepherds around. Stories
of the boy's marvellous playing leaked out, and at
length reached the court of France, and the ears
of the king himself, who sent for Colin, and find-
ing that his skill was even greater than report had
made it out to be, offered him a post of honour in
the royal household, which Colin accepted.

And here, surrounded by the royal favour, he
lived and taught, and made popular the Pipe, and
was loaded with honours and riches. There is no

AND THE BAGPIPE. 24I

doubt that Muset was a piper of note. He was the
MacCrimmon of the thirteenth century. He also
made great improvements in the construction of the
Bagpipe, altering the scale and improving the reeds,
and he is said to have been the first inventor of the
Bellows-Pipe.

Another great revival took place about the time
of the Louis' — Louis XIV. and XV. During these
two monarchs' reigns, a regular craze for piping and
the pastoral life spread like an epidemic through-
out Europe — kings and queens neglecting the affairs
of State, and shutting up their palaces, retired with
their courts to some sweet, sylvan glade, far removed
from the busy haunts of men, and putting themselves
on an equality with their subjects, competed with
them as shepherds and shepherdesses ; each fair
lady, in quaint, rustic fashion, striving to be more
beautifully dressed than the other, while their royal
lovers competed with each other upon the Shepherd's
Pipe. The Pipe was the little Bellows- Pipe or
Musette.

Here they led the simplest of lives — a healthy,
bracing life — during the summer months. With no
shelter from the storm but the spreading bough of
the greenwood tree, and no bed but the soft, warm
moss, and no covering but the forest leaves, and no
roof but the blue vault of heaven : with no food but
the simple fruits which the earth produced, and the
warm, frothing goat's milk, fresh from the pail, and
the clear water from the purling brook — the only
wine with which they quenched their thirst — an ideal

242 SOME REMINISCENCES

life was lived, while, for a time, the burdens of State
and the cares of society were left to look after
themselves. Pastoral plays, written for the occasion,
were enacted nightly, and pastoral music for the
Bagpipe was composed in spates.

Their duties over for the day, these amateur
shepherds filled in their spare time with piping and
dancing. An artificial life, it might be in many
ways, but a charming one.

This revival reached its height in the reicrns of
Louis XIV. and Louis XV., only to be followed
once again by a gradual decline, which has lasted
in France and the Continent to the present day,
leaving traces, however, which are still apparent in
the different countries, of the influence the Pipe once
wielded over men's lives.

In Germany, for example, although the Bagpipe
is now all but confined to the museums, it has
been perpetuated on canvas in the sixteenth cen-
tury by the great painter, Albert Durer, among
others, and immortalised in stone at Nuremberg,
etc. Albert Durer's picture is too well known to
require further notice here. His piper, short
kirtled to the knee, might well pass for a kilted
Highlander.

At Nuremberg there is a fountain which is over
three hundred years old, surmounted by a life-size
piper, dressed in his old minstrel's cloak, with a
one-drone Bagpipe on which he is playing, thrown
over his shoulder, and through its chanter the sweet
clear waters have flowed all these years.

The Hungarian Bagpipe :

A one-droned Pipe bought in Buda-Pesth.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 243

I shew here a Bagpipe from Buda-Pesth ; a poor,
feeble, one-drone Pipe, reeded with straws, serving only
to show that the Hungarians were once acquainted
with it, and that it can have made little or no
advance in their hands for hundreds of years. In
Bulgaria — part of old Pannonia — the Pipe might
still almost be called the national instrument, and
is very common. It, too, is a very rude and
homely instrument, although much superior to the
Hungarian. The set of Bulgarian *' Pipes" shewn
is distinguished by the peculiar leaden crook at
the end of the chanter, and by the lead orna-
mentation, which is only to be found in this country
on very old Bagpipes. In France piping still goes
on in one or two places, but the days of its glory
have long since fled — days recalled to our memory
as we wander through the picture galleries of Paris,
by the frequent brush of the artist, who loved to
depict pastoral life in the old days, with the piper
always presiding over the dance.

Chaliimeau was the French name for the Shepherd's
Bagpipe, but the Bellows-Pipe they named Musette.
I have three different forms of French Bagpipe,
which are photographed here. The first two — one
from Auvergne, the other from Bretagne — are blown
by the mouth — the third is the famous Musette, or
Bellows-Pipe of France, and is made entirely of
ivory, with silver keys attached to the chanter,
which has two octaves ; the Pipe has six drones.

The first Pipe — the French Shepherd's Pipe or
Chalumeau — came to me in rather a nice way.

244 SOME REMINISCENCES

You will notice that it has a drone placed along-
side of the chanter, like its next neighbour, the
Brittany Pipe ; but it has also a second drone,
inserted i;separately into the bag — evidently an
after-thought on the part of its possessor. It is made
of ebony and ivory, and a kind of spotted cane. The
termination of the chanter is quite peculiar, and is
an exact miniature, in bone, of the end of the large
Calabrian pipe. The decoration is of lead, and
a small mirror inserted into the stock is very
" Frenchy " in appearance.

This curious little Pipe is evidently in a transi-
tional stage. The original drone is the one which
lies alongside the chanter, where the drone in early
days was always placed. The advantage, however,
of having the drone removed where it would not
interfere with the fingering was evidently apparent
to its owner, but his conservatism prevented him
from altering the old arrangement, and so he simply
added on a second drone.

I said above that this French Bagpipe came to
me in rather a nice way. It also came with quite
an interesting story attached.

Mademoiselle D was a Frenchwoman, endowed

with all that vivacity and nameless charm which is
so characteristic of her race.

She had lived long enough in Edinburgh to learn
something of the Highlander, from frequently seeing
detachments of Highland soldiers marching in and
out of the Castle. She told me that she loved the
kilt, and adored the Bagpipe. I had the honour and

A very old specimen ot

A Two-Drone French Chalumeau

From Avignon, in France.
The g-ift of Mademoiselle D'Artout.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 245

pleasure of finishing her Highland education, by
teaching her some Highland quicksteps.

One day when shewing her my collection of
Pipes, I pointed out to her the French Musette,
with its beautiful ivory chanter, and its ivory case of
drones, and she was astonished as well as gratified
to think that the French had such beautiful "Pipes"
in the old days. But she was more astonished to be
told that the Bagpipe was still played in France.

"But no!" she said. "But yes!" I answered.
"In Picardy among other places, and in Brittany,
and," I suggested, "probably also in Auvergne, where
we are told that the purest Celtic race of to-day exists."

" Ah ! " she said, " I may be going back to France
some day, to the district of Auvergne, and I will
listen for the Pipe. I promised long long ago, to go
back if ever my old nurse's daughter should happen
to get married, and she is now quite grown up."

In the following year, the expected wedding took
place in Avignon, south of Auvergne. Mademoiselle

D , true to her promise, was there ; and when she

returned, she brought back with her the little Bag-
pipe, with the two drones, which you see in the
picture.

Her story of the marriage reads like a description
of an old Highland wedding. The bride's and bride-
groom's parties came down from the hills in two
separate processions, meeting for the first time that
day at the church door. The one was headed by a
fiddler, and the other by a piper. As Mademoiselle
D walked up to the church where the wedding

246 SOME REMINISCENCES

was to be held, the first thing she heard was the
sound of the '* Pipes" ; her delight was unbounded.

So, when the ceremony was finished in church, she
spoke to the piper, and arranged with him to buy the
Bagpipe, and take possession of it after the festivities
were over. She also saw, at the dance, two little tin
plates being handed round. The collections were for
the musicians. The whole scene, in short, as related

to me by Mademoiselle D , reminded me of the

weddings of my boyhood's days.

The invention of the bellows, as an adjunct to the
Bagpipe, spread to other countries from France :
unless, indeed, it was invented independently by
each of these, which is very improbable.

The Bellows-Pipe found its way into Germany,
Austria, Hungary, Roumania, and other countries
by the banks of the Danube.

It also penetrated into England, Lowland Scot-
land, and Ireland; but the barrier of the Grampians
stayed its further course in Scotland. It proved a
costly innov^ation — as all so-called improvements have
done, and are likely to do — by, for one thing, lessen-
ing its usefulness ; and there followed, in the track of
this improvement, the inevitable decline, and gradual
disappearance of this emasculated instrument, until
to-day it is little more than a thing of the past.

A ship's captain from Falkirk, who sailed regularly
to the Black Sea, and who promised to look out for
foreign " Pipes" for my collection, met a Roumanian
piper one day, playing upon a Bellows Pipe in
Bucharest, but being very Scottish, he did not

AND THE BAGPIPE. 247

recognise it as a Bagpipe at all, because it was not
blown by the mouth.

The reason for the decay of the Bellows Pipe is
not far to seek : what it gains in sweetness, it loses
in power ; and it is no longer, as I said before, a
useful instrument. With its correct sharps and flats,
and its numerous keys, giving the scale a greater
range of notes, it lends itself to other than Pipe
music, and is thus at once brought into competition
with more precise, more powerful, and more modern
instruments ; and it fails naturally, in the inevitable
contest, to hold its own.

It has died out in France and Germany, and on
the Continent, with the exception, perhaps, of
Roumania. It certainly still lingers on in these
Islands; in Northumberland, in Aberdeenshire, and
in one or two parts of Ireland ; but it has long lost
the power to excite the admiration and enthusiasm
of men, as the good old-fashioned, old-world High-
land mouth-blown Pipe does.

We shall now quit the Continent — sketchy and
altogether incomplete as our remarks on its Bagpipes
have been — and devote the remaining portion of this
book to the Pipe in Great Britain, and, above all,
to the King of Bagpipes — the great War Pipe of
the Highlands.

It would require several chapters to do justice to
the History of the Bagpipe in England ; but a few
lines must suffice here.

The earliest reference to the English Pipe is one
in an illuminated manuscript entitled " St. Graal,"

248 SOME REMINISCENCES

written in the thirteenth century. The Piper is drawn
with the bag held in front of him, as it always was
held at first — the chorus has the bag not only carried
in front, but held clear of the body of the player,
according to one writer — there are tivo chanters^ and
one large bell-mouthed drone attached to the bag.

The Celt in England refusing, like his brother
Celt in Scotland, to bow the knee to the invader,
was driven back slowly into the marshlands of
Wessex and the fens of Lincolnshire, and across
the borders into Wales and Scotland, where for many
a long day he was able to keep the foe at bay.
Here he lived the old life, keeping up the old
customs which he had refused to give up at the
bidding of the world, and the old music : and it is
from these places of refuge that the Celts' special
instrument, the Bagpipe, emerges later on.

Having once made its appearance, however,
it soon became one of the most popular of instru-
ments in England ; for we find the piper installed
at the English court as an honourable member
of the king's household as early as the fourteenth
century.

The Bagpipe was also much sought after by the
officers of the English navy in days gone by ; and
this partiality of the English sailor for the "Pipes"
was continued as late as the seventeenth century,
when notices were to be seen all over the country,
calling upon pipers to join the navy. To-day, the
old custom still survives, and there are pipers on
board several of H.M. battleships. Lord Charles

A Beautiful Specimen of the French Chalumeau

Made in the 17th Century. From the Basque Country.
Presented to the Author by Mr Sutherland of Solsgirth.

A Beautiful Specimen ot

The Musette,

French Bagpipe of the 17TH Century.

This Pipe is made entirely of ivory, and has got a chanter of two octaves.
The drones, five in number, are enclosed in an ivory case, like the old shuttle-
pipe of Northumberland.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 249

Beresford had the well-known piper, M'Crae, with
him in the Mediterannean when in command of the
fleet there, a few years ago. The sailor finds
no instrument more to his taste when dancing
" Jack-a-Tar," and no music trips more sweetly off the
chanter than "The Sailor's Hornpipe."

The Bagpipe was never, so far as we can deter-
mine, used by the English as a war instrument on
land. They used it, however, as a peace instru-
ment in religious services very generally at one time.

A piper frequently made one of the church choir;
and Chaucer, who makes the first literary reference
to the Pipe in England, tells us that a bagpiper
— what more fitting companion could the saints
have? — marched, or rode, in front of the bands of
pilgrims on their way to some favourite shrine — a
frequent sight in those days — cheering on the weary-
footed with his gay music.

-Chaucer's picture of the lusty miller puffing and
blowing on the Bagpipe, and rousing lone echoes
on the dusty road as he heads the long line of
pilgrims, marching from Southwark to Canterbury,
and Beckett's shrine, will live as long as the English
language itself.

Not only was the Bagpipe used in religious services
in early England, but the priest was himself occasion-
ally a piper. Brand, in his "Popular Antiquities,"
says : "I know a priest — this is a true tale that I
tell you, and no lye — which, when any of his friends
should be married, would take his Backe-Pype and
so fetch them to church, playing sweetly afore them:

250 SOME REMINISCENCES

and then he would lay his instrument handsomely on
the aultare till he had married them and said masse:
which thing being done, he would gently bring
them home again with Backe-Pype."

Let me finish this quaint picture of the olden
times, and at the same time shew how similar were
the customs in Scotland, by giving you a Scotch
story of a priest, who was also a piper, and not
afraid to use the Bagpipe on solemn occasions.

The Rev. Mr M 'Donald, of Ferintosh, was a
famous piper in his day. He, however, began his
ministrations as piper where his English brother
left off. He did not play the company to church,
but after he had married the couple, and got the
company safely back to the hall of feastings, he
would take up his Bagpipe and play to the dancers
until a certain hour, -which he first fixed upon,
when he would send the people home to bed, locking
the door behind him, so that they could not renew
the festivities when his back was turned, even if so
inclined.

Not many years ago the pipers of a Highland
regiment took part in the performance of a sacred
cantata in York Cathedral, and their playing had
a beautiful effect, according to the reports in the
daily papers, and was much admired by the English
audience.

Shakespeare, Spencer, Milton, and several other
great writers, also mention the Bagpipe in England.
From drawings of the time, we learn that the Pipe
was composed at first of a simple chanter, or of a

The Northumbrian Small Pipes :

The gfift of Mr Marshall, Newcastle-on-Tyne.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 25 1

chanter and one drone, similar to the Scotch and
Irish Pipe of the same period.

There are engravings of the Bagpipe in many
parts of England, as, for example, on a screen at
Oxford, of date, 1403; in Henry VII. 's chapel; at
Cirencester, Hull, Beverly, and many other places.
In Exeter Cathedral there is a carving in stone of
the choir, with a piper in their midst. The date is
the fourteenth century.

The Drone Pipe, as it was called, was in use in
Lincolnshire until quite recently. It was also in use
in Northumberland until the middle of last century,
when it was superseded by the Northumbrian or
"Small Pipe."

The form of Northumbrian Pipe which I shew on the
opposite page, has a closed chanter, and is quite pecu-
liar to Northumberland. It is, in fact, the only example
of the closed chanter in the world. This form of Pipe
is a great improvement upon the older Pipe, with open
chanter, a specimen of which I also shew here.

The open chanter is an older form of instrument
than the closed chanter, and is at best but a poor
peepy-weepy sort of Pipe.

As a writer in 1796 says — " It slurs the notes,
which is unavoidable from the remarkable smallness
of the chanter — not exceeding eight inches in
length — for which reason the holes are so near each
other that it is with difficulty they can be closed, so
that in the hands of a bad player they (sic)
become the most shocking and unintelligible instru-
ment imaginable."

252 SOME REMINISCENCES

The modern Northumbrian Pipe, with chanter
closed at the bottom, is free from these defects, as
it plays all its tunes in the way called by the Italians
staccato, and cannot slur at all.

Both these Pipes — the last survivals of the Bag-
pipe in England — are, I need hardly say. Bellows
Pipes.

The drones in Northumbrian Pipes are sometimes
enclosed in a case, like that of the French Musette,
and the Pipe is then known as the Shuttle Pipe.

The Bagpipe at one time occupied an important
place in the Irish economy also.

It was the war instrument of the Kernes and was
a two-drone instrument in the sixteenth century ; it
was blown by the mouth, and was identical in every
way with the old Northumbrian and Scotch Bagpipe.

The Irish piper, also, was a man held in high
esteem, and ranking as a gentleman.

The story of M'Donel, the Irish piper, is said to
be quite authentic.

When he went abroad he had his horse to carry
himself to the place of entertainment, and a servant
to carry his Pipe.

One day a gentleman who was having a large
company to dinner engaged M'Donel's services to
entertain his guests.

With more than questionable taste, considering
the standing of the piper, he had a table and a
bottle of wine on it, and a chair set for him on the
landing, outside the dining-room door.

The piper's pride was roused when he saw the

The Great Irish Pipe

With double bass regulator and 27 keys.

This Pipe is made of ebony and ivory with brass mountings, and was said to
have been a gift from the late Queen Victoria to one Ferguson, a blind piper in
Dublin.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 253

reception prepared for him; so quickly filling his glass,
he stepped into the room and drank off the wine,
saying — "Mr Grant, your health and company."

'' There, my lad, he said to the servant appointed
to wait upon him, " is two shillings for my bottle of
wine, and a sixpence for yourself."

He then mounted his horse and rode off in state.

But, with the adoption of the bellows by the Irish
piper a rapid decline in public estimation came
about ; and to-day there is not one piper of any note
in all the Green Isle. I shew here several different
forms of Irish Pipe, which explain themselves better
than I could do.

The large set, with no fewer than twenty-seven
keys on it, is said to have been a presentation by
late Queen Victoria to one Ferguson, a blind piper,
who played in and out of the large hotels in Dublin
in the early part of last century. Such a Pipe would
cost anything from ;^30 to ;^5o and upwards, and
it came to be known as the Irish Organ. When
played on as an organ, the chanter was put out of
use by having the neck of the bag twisted tightly,
and the piper devoted both hands to the keys of
the regulators.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE PIPER.

"Who being- a Gentleman, I should have mentioned sooner."—
Burt's Letters, 1730.

T KNOW no man," writes J. M. Barrie, " who
is so capable on occasion of looking like twenty
as a Highland piper."

Dr M'Culloch, who wrote nearly one hundred
years earlier, says the same thing, but in somewhat
different fashion.

" The very sight of the important personage, — the
piper — the eye of pride, and the cheek of energy,
the strut of defiance, and the streaming of the
pennons over the shoulder, form in themselves an
inspiriting sight."

No book on the Bagpipe would be complete
which did not devote a chapter to the piper.

The piper, as Captain Burt said, was a Gentleman
in the old days, and a very important member of the
clan. None was more useful than he in piping
times of peace ; none more in evidence when the
glen resounded to the tocsin of war. The clan piper
was frequently a cousin or near relative of the chief's,

AND THE BAGPIPE. 255

and held his lands in fee simple, and never needed
to soil his hands with manual labour.

He was often an educated man, and a much-
travelled one, as it was his duty to follow his chief
to the wars.

He was welcome in the best company, and was
treated as an equal by the gentlemen of the clan,
and had every reason for holding his head high, and
"looking like twenty."

His house was generally superior to his neigh-
bour's : his croft, too, was much larger than the
ordinary croft. The lands on Boreraig, in Skye,
held for several generations by the MacCrimmons,
pipers to M'Leod of M'Leod, is now divided, if I
am not mistaken, into seven crofts, supporting seven
families.

A general who had been through the late war in
South Africa, speaking in public recently, said that,
next to being a general, he would be a bugler boy.
Well, if I had my choice, I would, next to being the
king's physician, be a piper in a Highland regi-
ment, or — if it were only possible — the clan piper in
the olden days.

The stately carriage of the piper in times gone by
was proverbial. The blow-pipe, which was at first
very short, and is so still in all other Bagpipes, was
lengthened by the Highlander to allow of the
piper marching with head erect.

And why shouldn't he carry himself with a proud
air? He could look back upon a long line of
ancestors, who gained by their own skill the reward

256 SOME REMINISCENCES

due to it, and whose courage on the battlefield has
never been questioned.

Leaving out of account the three pipers of royal
birth — Antiochus of Syria, Nero of Rome, and King
"Jamie," the poet king of Scotland — there is still
much to be proud of from the piper's point of view,
and the remaining records have quite a respectable
air of antiquity.

The very first piper mentioned in Scottish history
is already, i.e.^ in 1362, a member of the king's
household. He is also of high rank in the
household — some seventh or so, if we are to
judge by his position at the Welsh and English
courts.

When trying to estimate the antiquity of the
Bagpipe in Scotland, it is important to remember
this fact, that the piper, early in the fourteenth
century, was already a man of mark, the associate
of men of birth and education, he himself being
probably the most learned of the lot.

For it is not a matter of conjecture that the
piper was thus early assuming the duties of
the minstrel, just as the minstrel had previously
usurped the duties of the bard.

Now, when we remember how men devoted half
a lifetime, and more, to the acquiring of the special
knowledge without which they could not become
bards, and that to this we must add the weary years
devoted to the piper's special calling, it will be seen
that his education was no sham but very real, and
there is little doubt that King David's piper owed

The Piper in Camp :

" A quiet afternoon."

AND THE BAGPIPE. 257

his influence in the royal household as much to his
general knowledge as to his skill in piping. At
court he was the " Poet Laureate" — the composer
and singer of songs, the reciter of old-world tales,
the storehouse of ancient traditions, the repositor of
genealogies — a royal almanac, in short, consulted by
high and low. With an unbridled tongue, licensed
to speak the thoughts which came uppermost, no man
was safe from its lash, not even royalty itself ; and
it is on record that old King Hal once put out the
eyes of a minstrel who ventured for the second time,
after full warning, to lampoon his sacred person.

Combining the duties of bard and of minstrel in his
own person, the piper-bard stood forth on the battle-
field as a separate entity, wielding more influence
over the fortunes of the fight with his impassioned
War Song than twenty good claymores. To offend
so powerful a personage was to waken up some fine
morning and find oneself famous in scathing epigram
or humorous verse — the laughing-stock of the world —
a kind of celebrity which the real Highlander even
to-day dreads and avoids like the plague.

The Clan piper never carried the Bagpipe himself;
to do so would be considered menial : this custom
he brought down with him from the golden age of
minstrelsy. He never handled the " Pipes," except
when playing on it, and had a boy ( gille-piobaire )
to carry it for him. When finished playing, he
handed it back to the gille^ or, as one writer affirms,
"threw down the Pipe disdainfully on the ground,"
to make it clear to his audience that any merit in the

258 SOME REMINISCENCES

performance was due to the player, and not to the
instrument.

Is it likely, then, that the Piper, if he came from
the outside — from England, as Mr M'Bain says —
would be found, immediately on his arrival, in this
exalted position of king's Piper? What could a
stranger know of the minstrel's or bard's duties at
the Scottish Court?

If it is a far cry from the little soft -voiced
shepherd's Pipe, made of " ane reid and ane bleddir,"
to the great, loud-sounding king of war instruments,
it is also, I should say, a far cry from the shepherd's
cot, the birthplace of the Pipe in the Highlands, as
elsewhere, to the king's palace, where we find it
naturalised in 1362.

We have a good example of the slow growth of
the Bagpipe in the Bulgarian or Spanish Pipe, which
is as crude and primitive to-day as it was in the days
of the Romans ; and common sense surely asserts
that the Piper's skill could only keep pace with the
improvement of the instrument, and was of no mush-
room growth, nor the work of one generation, but
of many.

Let those therefore, who argue that the Bagpipe
is a late introduction in the Highlands explain the
post of king's Piper, already instituted in the four-
teenth century, and explain how Poibaireachd, that
most complicated and classical species of music, was
so speedily evolved, by the early Piper in the High-
lands, out of his new-fangled Pipe — almost as soon,
indeed, as he had fingered the chanter.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 259

Captain Burt's story, mentioned previously, is so
apropos to the Piper and his claim to the title of
musician, that we quote it here in full.

The incident mentioned happened about 1720,
nearly 200 years ago.

•' The captain of one of the Highland companies,"
writes the gallant Englishman, "entertained me
some time ago at Stirling with an account of a dispute
tha'- happened in his corps about precedency. This
officer, among the rest, had received orders to add
a drum to his Bagpipe as a military instrument ; for
the Pipe was to be retained, because the Highland-
men could hardly he brought to march without it.
Now the contest between the drummer and the piper
arose about the post of honour, and at length the
contention grew exceedingly hot, which the captain
having notice of, he called them both before him,
and in the end decided the matter in favour of the
drum, whereupon the piper remonstrated very warmly
— " Ads wuds, sir," says he, " and shall a little rascal
that beats upon a sheepskin take the right haund of
me, that am a musician!"

The two jolly captains, one or both English, made
merry over the piper's claim to be called a musician,
because they were ignorant of the history of the
piper, and of the long and severe training he had to
submit to before he became a finished piper. Other-
wise they must have known that the piper had
authority and custom on his side. The piper, at all
events, was not afraid to remonstrate warmly with
his superior officer on the injustice of the decision

26o SOME REMINISCENCES

come to : he respected himself if no one else did,
and carried his head high accordingly.

Six or seven hundred years ago, we learn from old
records, the piper belonged to the Guild of Min-
strelsy. And why was he admitted to this close
corporation ? Because he was a musician ! On two
occasions, at least, history informs us that the king's
permission was granted to his piper to go over the
seas to study music.

This guild was a very powerful body, with
branches all over Europe.

It had courts, appointed by royal charter, at the
different centres ; these being managed by regular
officers.

The head officer was called Le Roi, or king, and
he was assisted by four officers.

These courts had jurisdiction over the members,
dealing out fines and imprisonments, and the mem-
bers could elect to be tried by these courts for any
misdemeanours short of murder or serious crime.
They were elected every year with great ceremony,
and existed down to the end of the seventeenth
century.

Many privileges were granted by successive
sovereigns to the members of this guild, until it
became overweaning in its pride. The heads of the
order always rode on horseback, and had each a
servant to carry his instrument, whether harp. Bag-
pipe, viol, crowd, or fiddle, as the case might be.

Large sums of money were given to them when
they had to appear at court in connection with some

AND THE BAGPIPE. 261

great function, such as a royal marriage ; and many
enjoyed annuities from the king.

They had the right of entry into the king's palace,
and — by implication — into the knight's castle, and
claimed as a right both meat and drink and a bed
from gentle or simple wherever they went.

There are many entries in the Exchequer Rolls of
Scodand which shew that English pipers frequently
appeared before the king at Linlithgow Palace and
elsewhere.

Some people have arguod from this that the Bag-
pipe was not much known in Scotland, or there
would be no need for English pipers at the Scottish
court. But these frequent appearances simply shew
that, although Englishmen, yet, as members of the
Guild of Minstrelsy, these pipers claimed, and were
not denied, *'the right of entering into the king's
palace." And the Scottish minstrels as frequently
returned the compliment by visiting the English
court.

The leading members of the guild — for there were
graduations of rank, all of which were known by their
dress — were distinguished by a specially beautiful
short mantle and hood made of the finest materials,
and embellished in the most extravagant manner
with rich embroideries.

One writer, a poet, who was evidently left out in
the cold by the guild, and jealous in consequence,
advises knights to dress more plainly, as in their fine
feathers they are apt to be mistaken for minstrels.

262 SOME REMINISCENCES

" Now Ihei beth disgysed
So diverselych i-dig-ht,
That no man may know
A mynstrel from a knight
Well my :
So is meekness fait a down
And pride aryse on hye."

The pride here complained of by the poor poet was

soon to have a fall, when, unfortunately for him, the

ranks of the starving poets would be still further

augmented ; but not just yet.

It took many repressive enactments by successive
sovereigns before the once powerful guild was
stripped of power and pride of place.

On one occasion, at least, a minstrel rode into the
royal presence unmolested. Here is the statement of
the fact.

"When Edward II. this year (1316) solemnised the
Feast of Pentecost, and sat at table in the great hall
of Westminster, attended by the peers of the realm,
a certain woman dressed in the habit of a minstrel^
riding on a great horse ^ trapped in the minstrel
fashion^ entered the hall, and going round the several
tables, acting the part of a minstrel, at length mounted
the steps to the royal table, on which she deposited
a letter. Having done this, she turned her horse,
and saluting all the company, she departed." On
the doorkeepers being remonstrated with for admit-
ting a lady, they replied "that it never was the custom
of the king's palace to deny admission to minstrels,
especially on such high solemnities and feast days."

The minstrel's cloak and the minstrel's trappings

AND THE BAGPIPE. 263

on the horse evidently rendered the bold rider
inviolate, etiquette assenting.

We also read in an early Irish record, of date 1024,
that " the piper in Ireland had the right of entry into
the king's house by night or day, and the privilege of
drinking of the king's beer."

In the Scottish Exchequer Rolls there are numerous
payments to pipers and other minstrels, not always
princely in amount ; and an idea has got abroad that
these pipers were badly paid.

I have said before that they were better paid than
were the priests, and the following account shews
how handsomely the minstrel was paid at times, and
how high he stood in the esteem of the great and
wealthy.

In the year 1290, two of England's royal daughters
got married — one in May, the other in July.

To both ceremonies came minstrels from many
countries, playing upon many instruments.

On the first occasion 426 minstrels attended, includ-
ing three " Roys," or kings — viz., King Grey of
England, King de Champaigne from France, and
King Cawpenny from Scotland.

The bridegroom presented a sum equal to ;^i500
of our money to be distributed among the minstrels,
each of the kings receiving ;^50 as his share.

On the second occasion there were six kings.
These included our three friends above mentioned,
now designated as " Le Roy Robert," **Le Roy de
Champaigne," and *' Le Roy Cawpenny" — the latter
a characteristic name surely for a Scotchman. Each

264 SOME REMINISCENCES

of the six kings received the same sum again of

In all, on this occasion some ;^3000 of our money
was distributed amongst the minstrels.

Now, many people always associate the harp, and
the harp alone, with the minstrel ; but the term is a
generic one, and means a musician — a musician of
any sort.

The word "harper," in the same way, grew in
time to mean any musician ; and so the harper's seat
in Mull, and the harper's croft : and the harper's
window at Duntulin, in Skye, probably applied
equally well to the piper or the fiddler, and does not
necessarily mean that harpers, as distinguished from
pipers or fiddlers, filled these seats.

In England, of course, the harp, which was an
Anglo-Saxon instrument, and the favourite one, was
the constant companion of the minstrel there, and thus
got so closely associated with his calling in people's
minds that minstrel and harper became synonymous
terms. And the following three incidents, which I
mention to shew the great immunity accorded to the
minstrel in the olden times by friend and foe alike,
and which happened to the Saxon, centre naturally
round the Saxon weapon, the harp.

Every one is familiar with the story of King Alfred
and the harp? of how he once played the harper or
minstrel, and passed through the Danish camp in his
disguise, unmolested ; and of how afterwards he
turned to good account the secrets which he picked
up from the Danes.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 265

But there is a much earlier instance of the same
kind, which occurred somewhat as follows, about
450 A.D.

Colgrin, the leader of the Saxons, was besieged by
the British in the town of York.

He had agreed to surrender on a certain day if no
help came to him, as the water supply had been cut
off, and the food supplies were running terribly short,
and he had all but lost hope of some expected
reinforcements.

At this juncture his brother, who was the bearer of
news from the outside, came boldly up to the British
lines, having first, however, '■^shaved his head and
face, and assumed the minstrel's cloak." In this
disguise he passed up and down through the British
lines singing and playing to the unsuspecting
soldiers. When night arrived he got into the moat
and played an air, which was immediately under-
stood by the soldiers inside the fortifications. By
means of ropes he was lifted over the wall, and gave
his brother the joyful news that reinforcements were
on the way, and would be at the gates in three
days.

All idea of surrender was then over, and the British
had ultimately to raise the siege. This story would
lead one to infer that the minstrel in the fifth century
shaved in a peculiar fashion to distinguish him from
the common crowd, as well as wore the minstrel's
cloak.

The third incident is perhaps better known, because
of the flavour of romance with which the two central

266 SOME REMINISCENCES

figures are surrounded. The story of Blondel's suc-
cessful adventure in quest of King Richard has
always been a favourite tale with the English people.
During one of the many wars waged by England on
the Continent, Richard was taken prisoner, and his
captors managed to smuggle him away so secretly that
none of his friends, although they hunted "'high and
low," could learn of his whereabouts. His faithful
minstrel continued the search after all the rest had
given up hope of ever finding the king. With his
harp for sole companion, he visited every keep and
stronghold on the road, and under the frowning walls
of each he sang always the first verse of a song which
had been a favourite of the imprisoned monarch, and
waited often and wearily for the reply, which seemed
as if it would never come. But one day — the day of
days it was ever after to the brave and patient Blondel
— out through barred window floated the second verse
of the song in the well-known and beloved voice of
his lord and master ; and the faithful harper's search
was at an end.

This story shews that the minstrel's cloak was a
protection to its wearer in foreign countries, as well
as at home ; and as far back as history goes we find
the same sense of security nestling under its xg'is,
and the same honour and respect accorded the
wearer of it.

These three stories — and I could give many more
such — point to the delight with which music inspired
the early inhabitants of these islands ; but nothing
can shew how great was the respect accorded to the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 267

musician in those days better than the story of
Blondel, which also demonstrates that the enemy's
country, and even the enemy's camp, /;/ times of war ^
were open to the visits of the man with the shaved
head and the minstrel's cloak.

But, again, the minstrel took a much higher stand-
ing in the estimation of the people than the priest;
and we have seen that he was better paid. It was in
these early days that the seed of strife was sewn
between piper and priest, as the priest naturally grew
jealous of the attentions paid the piper. When the
glory passed away from the guild, and its member-
ship no longer protected the piper, and he was classed
with the "vagabond," then did the priest, who was
rapidly acquiring fresh power, and a big hold over
the people, do everything in his power to stamp out
the poor musician who had so long robbed him of
fat fees.

And what the Roman Catholic priest began so
well in the South in the fifteenth century, the
Free Church priest in the Highlands finished
handsomely in the nineteenth century; so that it is
no uncommon experience to meet with Highlanders
to-day in Argyleshire and Inverness-shire — I speak
of the two counties which I know best — who shut
their ears in horror (or pretended horror !) — at the
sound of the Bagpipe, and call the piper "a bad
man." So much for the teaching of the Free
Church. This may seem an exaggerated statement
to make, but it is, alas ! sober truth, to which
many can testify, and is in accord with my own

268 SOME REMINISCENCES

experience, gained during many holiday wanderings
through the Highlands and Islands.

Only last June I was staying in one of the smaller
Western Islands, and there I became acquainted with
one, Mrs M'Phee, a decent, God-fearing woman,
albeit a little gloomy and severe, and with Highland
manners which could not be improved upon, who
looked after our golf clubs. On the last day of my
stay in the island, feeling that the modest fee charged
by her for cleaning the clubs was rather less than
her due, I took my Bagpipe, and accompanied by
a friend, started off to walk to her house, which was
almost two miles from the hotel.

She lived in a very lonely spot, with no neigh-
bours near, and I felt sure that a tune on the
"Pipes" would be welcome, and would cheer her
up a bit. When I told her of my mission, she —
to my utter amazement — told me that she did not
want to hear the "Pipes." "No! no! whateffer."
At first I believed that she was only bashful, and
began to play, but she soon undeceived me by her
behaviour, and shewed that she was in deadly
earnest. Her face grew black as night, and the
children, who crowded behind her, as she stood in
the doorway and struggled to get a peep at the
" piper," she drove back into the house with strong
Gaelic epithets. While I struggled along, piping
under these adverse circumstances, Mrs M'Phee
entered into a long and earnest talk with my friend,
paying no attention whatever to poor me.

My performance otherwise was received with

AND THE BAGPIPE. 269

chilly silence, and when I had finished there was
not one word of thanks forthcoming. It was not
in the cheeriest of moods that I walked to the

links for my last game, and on the road, Mr

repeated the conversation that he had had with
Mrs M'Phee, or rather which Mrs M'Phee had had
with him, for she did all the talking, the while I
inwardly blessed the cause of it all.

She told him that she did not approve of the Bag-
pipes, or of any secular music '' whateffer," and
looked upon all such as part of the devil's wiles
to draw away people's thoughts from heaven, and
all that sort of thing. And she finished off with
a very pointed rebuke to myself, saying, as she
watched me fearfully out of the corner of her eye,
'* My father was a great piper, oh yes ; and he won
many prizes, and he played on the ' Pipes ' until
six years before his death, whe7i he became a good
man, and destroyed his * Pipes ^^ and I don't want
any of my children to learn them. The eldest one
— ah! Bheist!'" — this to the boy as she caught him
looking over her shoulder and listening, " he is too
fond of the chanter already." It was heart-breaking
to me to find such prejudice and fanaticism in
the Highlands, the old home of the Bagpipe :
its innocent music condemned as ungodly ; its
cheery companionship refused ; the piper shunned
as a leper.

I often wonder how Mrs M'Phee's children amuse
themselves in that lonely spot during the dark and
idle winter months, and think how much brighter

270 SOME REMINISCENCES

the house would be for an occasional tune on the
despised Pipe.

Fond of music as these children are, what sub-
stitute does the Free Church mean to provide for
them when they leave home and become dwellers
in the great city with its "sins and sorrows?"
Once free to follow the bent of their own fancy,
music they will have, and in that day will music
of the Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay type be as healthy, or as
good for them, as that which their own Church
denied them at home ?

I said before, that the Priest gave the Piper a
bad name once, and in some places it has evidently
stuck to him ever since. He called them " Profli-
gates, low-bred buffoons, who blew up their cheeks
and contorted their persons, and played on harps,
trumpets, and pipes for the pleasure of their lords,
and who, moreover, flattered them by songs and
ballads, for which their masters are not ashamed"
— this is evidently the sore point ! — " to repay these
ministers of the Prince of Darkness with large sums
of gold and silver, and rich embroidered robes. ^

At times the piper did his best to earn this sorry
character ; but the old proverb, *' As drunk as a
piper," is, I think, misread. It came into existence
in an age when the piper was a gentleman — as the
Highland Clan piper always was — and it only meant
that a piper could get as drunk as a gentleman, or
get drunk, and still be a gentleman. In other
words, that he could always play, stopping short in
his drinking before the maudlin stage was reached.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 271

*• As fou as a fiddler," on the other hand, meant
the beastial form of drunkenness, of which no gentle-
man ever could be guilty. The old Crovvder, in
short, never was a gentleman, and did not know
how to drink genteelly. He was a sot, and kept on
swilling as long as a drop of liquor was left, or
until the fiddle dropped through his listless fingers.
I speak, of course, of the old days, long since gone,
when the Guild was breaking up. From my own
small experience of pipers and piping, I can bear
testimony to the fact that drinking and piping go
very badly together ; and the piper who drinks im-
moderately has no reputation to lose, for he cannot
win at competitions. There is a story told by Mr
Manson which seems to contradict this : —

William M 'Donald, a well-known piper in his day,
could play, drunk or sober, " so well," to quote this
writer, "even when rivals had given him too much
drink, that he always got a prize at competitions."
I could not understand this at all, because in my own
case, a single glass of beer or wine puts my fingers
out in piping, and I was therefore more than pleased
to learn from Mr John M 'Donald, of Inverness —
himself one of the finest Pibroch players of the day —
that the story is not true.

William M 'Donald, who was his uncle, was not
born in Badenoch as Mr Manson says, and he was
a life-long teetotaller; so that the story of his brother
pipers making him drunk is a libel on both parties.
The story of Wm. M 'Donald's son, who was piper
to the Prince of Wales, giving up his situation and

272 SOME REMINISCENCES

burning his Bagpipe from religious scruples — as the
good Mr M'Phee did — is, I believe, quite true. Of
course, there were always pipers and pipers. When
the Guild of Minstrelsy was at length suppressed,
the pipers in the South, in common with the
Harpers, were denounced as vagabonds, and were
liable to be whipped, and to be put in the stocks
for following what had hitherto been a respectable
and strictly legal calling, and in this way they
were forced to herd with tlie lower classes, who
were themselves outside the pale of society — often,
even, outside of the law, but who sheltered and
favoured the poor musicians, and it is no wonder
that the character of the latter rapidly degenerated.
But the Clan Piper, not exposed to such de-
grading surroundings, maintained his dignity and
his character of gentleman to the last ; and
never, above all, forgot that he was a musician. He
never gave himself up to riotous living, or to
beggary, like the crowd of disrobed minstrels, and
his descendants to-day, I am proud to say, main-
tain well, on the whole, the old character of
"musician and gentleman," so worthily held by their
forefathers.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE BAGPIPE IN SCOTLAND.

'T^HERE are more frequent references to the Bag-
pipe in Early England than in Early Scotland,
not because the Pipe was first introduced into
England, but because English records were made
earlier, and are fuller and more complete, and were
better preserved, as M'Bain says, than Scottish
records.

Scotland was too much occupied with the sword
in her young days to take up the pen, and perhaps
with nation-making on hand, she had too little
leisure ; her early scholars also thought the small
details of everyday life too trivial to be recorded,
and in this way the Bagpipe was neglected, and
the historians of England stole a march upon her.

Indeed, but for the fact, firstly, that a Welshman

in the twelfth century — who visited Scotland with the

express object of studying its musical system — wrote

a book, giving a list of the musical instruments used

by the Scots ; and, secondly, that the expenses of the

274 SOME REMINISCENCES

Royal Household in the fourteenth century were
jotted down and preserved in the old exchequer rolls,
we would be without any certain proof to-day that
the Bagpipe was known in Scotland before the middle
of the fifteenth century, when M'Vurich, the bard,
reviled it in song ; and the claim of those who say
" it came, of course, from England into Scotland,"
would be as strong now as it is weak, and would be
much more difficult to disprove by men who, like
myself, believe in the Celtic origin of the Bagpipe.

The history of the Bagpipe in Scotland is similar
to its history elsewhere in Celtdom : it is a story of
gradual progress from small beginnings.

The historian who first mentions the Pipe in
Panonnia agrees, in his description of the instrument,
with the writer who first describes the Pipe in
Scotland, although fifteen hundred years separate
the two.

The early Bagpipe in both countries was found to
consist of a simple reed and bladder ; and out of this
little Pipe the Great War Pipe of the Highlands has
been slowly, but surely, evolved. We in the south
did not get it put into our hands a ready-made instru-
ment of one drone, nor did the Highlander in the
north begin with the " Great Pipe" of two drones, as
the Inverness School asserts. The little Bagpipe of
"ane reid and ane bleddir," the original Pipe of the
Celt, survived alongside of its more powerful and
useful offspring, the Drone Bagpipe, almost to our
own day ; and in 1548 the author of the " Complaynt
of Scotland" places this little Pipe second in a list of

AND THE BAGPIPE. 275

seven instruments well known to the Scottish peasant
of that period.

The first instrument on the list — in order of merit
and popularity, I presume — is a Drone Bagpipe; the
second is "a Bagpipe of ane reid and ane bleddir;"
the third is the Jew's Harp or Trump, an instrument
very common in my young days ; and the seventh is
the Fiddle.

There is no mention of the harp whatever, which is
surely strange if the harp were in such universal use
among the common people as recent writers would
have us believe ; and the Fiddle — Sir A. C.
M'Kenzie's Scotch Fiddle — comes in a bad seventh.

There is an old tradition still in existence, which the
poet Burns heard at Stirling and elsewhere, that the
Pipe was played at Bannockburn, and for believing
in which he was laughed at by the wiseacres of the
next generation, who said that there were no Bag-
pipes in Scotland for at least two centuries after 1314,
the date of the battle. The truth is, that although
there is no historical reference to the use of the Bag-
pipe on this occasion, we now know, what the writers
of twenty years ago did not know, that the Pipe was
a well-known instrument in Scotland at the time the
Battle of Bannockburn was fought, and for some
centuries before.

Now, if Bagpipes were used at Bannockburn, as
tradition asserts — an assertion which our later and
fuller knowledge of the facts strongly supports — they
were Highland Bagpipes, because we learn from
history that the Highlander was the first to discover

276 SOME REMINISCENCES

their stimulating effect in battle, and was the first,
since the days of the Romans, to substitute the Pipe
for the drum in war. From the beginning of the
fifteenth century and onward, numerous references —
owing to the advancement of letters — shew how
universal its use was throughout Scotland in early
times. We know that it was always a favourite with
the herd boy ; but the very fact that King David II.
kept a piper, and that King James I. was himself a
piper, must have increased its popularity with the
upper classes as well. And so we learn without sur-
prise that soon after King James' time every burgh in
Scotland had among its recognised officials a piper,
dressed in the town's livery — often gay with bright
colours and tassel decorations, and with a cock of parti-
coloured ribbons in his bonnet — whose duty it was
to open and to close each day with a tune on his
"Drone." So popular, indeed, was the Bagpipe
with us in the olden days, that whenever a piper
turned up at the Township — be it morning, noon, or
night — work came to a standstill : the weaver left
his shuttle, the tailor his bench, the blacksmith
his forge, the hind his plough, and with the
lassies, who were never far away, flocked to the
village green, where dancing was begun, and
generally carried on until nature, worn out, called
a halt.

In that most delightful of songs, " Alister
M'Alister," we have the best description of the
impromptu dance to be found in literature. So ex-
cellent, indeed, is it, and so impregnated with the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 277

spirit of the times, that I offer no apologies for giving
it here in full : —

Oh, Alastair MacAlastair,
Your chanter sets us a' asteer,
Then to your bags, an' blaw wi' birr,
We'll dance the Hig-hland Fling.
Now Alastair has tuned his pipes,
An' thrang as bumbees frae their bikes,
The lads an' lasses loup the dykes,
An' gather on the green.
Oh, Alastair, etc.

The miller, Hab, was fidgin' fain
To dance the Highland fling his lane.
He lap, as high as Elspeth's wame.

The like was never seen.
As round about the ring he whuds,
An' cracks his thumbs, an' shakes his duds,
The meal flew frae his tail in cluds.

An' blinded a' their een.
Oh, Alastair, etc.

Neist rauchle-handed smiddy Jock,

A' blackened ower wi' coom an' smoke,

Wi' shauchlin' bleare'ed Bess did yoke,

That slav'rin gabbit queen.
He shook his doublet in the wind,
His feet, like hammers, strak the grund ;
The very moudiewarts, were stunn'd.

Nor kenn'd what it could mean.
Oh, Alastair, etc.

Now wanton Willie wasna blate,
For he got baud o' winsome Kate,
" Come here," quo' he, " I'll show the gate,
To dance the Highland fling."

278 SOME REMINISCEXCES

The Highland flhig he danced wi' glee,
And laps as he were gaun to flee.
Kate beck'd an' bobbed sae bonnilie,
An' trip't sae neat an' clean.

Oh, Alastair, etc.

Now Alastair has done his best,
An' weary houghs are wantin' rest,
Forbye wi' drouth they sair were pres't,

Wi' dancin', sae, I ween.
I trow the gantrees gat a lift ;
An' roun' the bicker flew like drift ;
An' Alastair, that very nicht.

Could scarcely stand his lane.
Oh, Alastair, etc.

It is rather interesting to learn that the miller in
England, as well as in Scotland, was often the
village piper.

In Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," the piper is a
miller to trade, and King Jamie's piper is also a
miller.

" With that Will Swan came smeiland out,
Ane meikle miller man,
Gif I sail dance have done, lat se.
Blow up the Bagpype than."

Its popularity, however, did not begin and end
with the dance. King James also writes : —

"The Bagpipe blew, and they outdrew
Out of the townis untald."

shewing that it was used in Scotland as a marching
instrument, just as in England; and all processions

AND THE BAGPIPE. 279

in those days, whether of pilgrims or of the ordinary
people to or from fairs, markets, weddings, or funerals
— even the Royal processions from Church on Sunday
— were headed by the piper.

From this we see that the Bagpipe was once
popular throughout the length and breadth of Celtic
Scotland, and was not peculiar to the Highlands.
No doubt the adoption of the bellows helped to hurt
the growing popularity of the "Pipes" in Lowland
Scotland, as it had certainly done in England and
in Ireland, for when the original Great Pipe became
whittled down to suit the ears of drawing-room dames,
it lost more than its loudness. It lost its usefulness
and its individuality. But it was only after the Low-
lander had developed into the peaceful trader, to
whom the flash of a broadsword or the "skirl of
the Pipe " was hateful, and after the Highlander
had developed into the soldier of fortune who found
the very spirit of battle in the Pipe's wild war-
notes, that the Great Bagpipe began to be looked
upon as a purely Highland instrument.

It was this retrograde development of the Pipe
into a household weapon by the Lowlander, and
the forward development by the Highlander of the
same Pipe into a still louder and more powerful
instrument — an out-of-doors instrument — fitted for the
clamour of battle, that brought the Bagpipe its
lasting fame. It seems almost like the irony of fate
that a pastoral instrument — the most peaceful of in-
struments— first invented by shepherds to beguile
their lonely vigils with — to lead gentle sheep to the

28o SOME REMINISCENCES

fresh pastures — should become the delight in war
of the fierce soldier.

Who could foresee that this little shepherd's Pipe,
of "ane reid and ane bleddir," a poor thing at
best — a feeble-voiced, soft-toned, primitive, droneless
instrument, should one day blossom out into the
Great War Pipe of the Clans, with its loud clarion-
voiced call to arms?

Now, so long as the Bagpipe consisted only of
chanter and bag, not much improvement was possible
or could be expected : its usefulness was greatly
curtailed, and it never could — and never did — be-
come an instrument of any note. The noise of
combat drowned out the little Pipe, and the old
historians, if they knew of its existence, thought
it unworthy of notice.

The Greeks learned this lesson very early, and
the Pythaulos — a drone Bagpipe — was the result.
In the evolution of the primitive Pioh, then, the
first and greatest improvement of all was the addition
of the drone. The drone Bagpipe, once invented,
became in turn, to the eager, open-mouthed listeners,
a teacher of concord or harmony, and the oldest
part-song in the world, called, *' Summer is a cumen
in," is a song composed to a Bagpipe tune in
which the men's voices droned a bass of one note
— the keynote — right through the song, just as the
drone of the Bagpipe did.

After the first drone was added, it required no
great stretch of genius or imagination — Celtic or
otherwise— to add a second, or a third, or a fourth

AND THE BAGPIPE. 281

drone for that matter to the Pipe, and no country-
could justly claim the Bagpipe as its own, because
of such addition; so that the Highlander who, accord-
ing to Mr M'Bain, only added the third drone to the
newly-borrow^ed two-drone Bagpipe, had no right
whatever to claim the instrument as a Highland
one.

When on the subject of the drone, I may here
say, that in this country, as we learn from the de-
scriptions of old writers, confirmed in many instances
by drawings of the actual Pipes, the second drone
was added early in the sixteenth century, and the third
drone about the middle or end of the eighteenth
century, although the present three-drone Bagpipe
did not become general, especially in the Highlands,
till well on in the nineteenth century.

In his preface to the Piobaireachd Society's first
collection of tunes, published in 1905, the writer
disputes the above view, and holds that the three-
drone Bagpipe was the Highland Pipe from the first,
and in proof of this somew-hat bold assertion he
quotes from a fifteenth century satire on the Pipe,
composed by one Niall Mor MacVurrich. From
this Gaelic poem the following quotation — translated
first into English — is taken : —

"The first Bag(-pipe) — and melodious it was not
— came from the time of the Flood. There was
then of the Pipe but the chanter, the mouth-piece,
and the stick that fixed the key, called the suinaire
(drone?) But a short time after that, and — a bad
invention begetting a worse — there grew the three

282 SOME REMINISCENCES

masts, one of them long, wide, and thick," etc.

Now, taking for granted that this poem is
authentic, and the translation correct, it may still
only refer to the two-drone Pipe where the second
drone — as we constantly see it in old pictures — was
added, "long, wide, and thick," and the two drones
with the mouthpiece would represent the three
masts.

No doubt there were three-drone, and four — nay,
even five-drone Bagpipes before the eighteenth
century, but the three-drone Highland Pipe of to-
day was not much used in the Highlands until the
nineteenth century. In my young days the Inverary
Gipsies, who were — many of them — great pipers,
never used any but a one-drone or two-drone Bag-
pipe, and it is not quite fair for the writer of this
preface, or for the Piohaireachd Society, which is re-
sponsible for its publication, to belittle the one-drone
or the two-drone Bagpipe, and praise only the
modern form of Highland Pipe, as if it were the
real and only Simon Pure. "It has been frequently
stated," we are told, "and repeated in most of the
recent works on the subject," — not that there are any
ancient or recent works on the subject, except Mr
Manson's book, which was published in 1901 — "that
the bass drone was added to the Bagpipe early in the
nineteenth century, or, in any case, not fifty years
earlier." The ^' Seanachas Sloinuidh" — M'Vurich's
poem — "disproves that assertion, and even should
it not"' (there is evidently a doubt in the writer's
mind) " it is impossible to believe that at the time

AND THE BAGPIPE. 283

the greatest of the Macrimmons composed their
masterpieces, they should have played on an im-
possible and incapable instrumenty Now, as a
matter of fact, the two-drone Bagpipe is not an im-
possible or an incapable instrument at all, and if
the great Macrimmon wrote his "masterpieces"
with a three-drone Bagpipe at his elbow, it was
not from the third drone that he drew his inspira-
tion, but from the Pipe as a whole. Indeed, for
practising purposes, and in the dance, the big drone
is no improvement, and in holiday time I fall back
on the older form of two-drone Pipe as being easier
to play on, and easier to dance to, for those at least
who are not accustomed to Pipe music.

To say that the full-fledged instrument is the only
original Highland Bagpipe is to say that the High-
lander did not invent it for himself, but borrowed it
— as Mr M'Bain says he did — and such "impossible
and incapable " claims put forward in its favour by
rash friends, lend weight to the verdict of those
hostile critics who say that the Highland Bagpipe is
neither ancient nor Highland.

Of its age I treat elsewhere. That it is a genuine
Highland instrument I have no doubt. And if the
invention of the Bagpipe has been denied to the
Highlander, I must be honest, and say, "right away
here," that for this misapprehension he has himself
only to thank. He was the first to start the stories
which gave the credit of it now to this nation, now
to that. He did not value the instrument, in later
days at least, as he should have done. After the

284 SOME REMINISCENCES

Rebellion of 1715, the Highlands began to be opened
up to the outer world, and the Highlanders were
forced to meet English-speaking strangers, whose
surprise and, in many instances, contempt for what
they saw, was but half v^eiled. And so Donald, to
be on "the right side of the laugh," began to dis-
parage everything distinctively Highland.

We have seen that the Clan piper himself was
not always above displaying this same poor spirit in
the hope of standing well with the stranger. He
was no doubt a gentleman of parts, and a musician.
It might be beneath his dignity to carry the
"Pipes" himself. He had a boy — the gille Piohaire
— to perform this office for him. But he did not
need to throw the "Pipes" on the ground disdain-
fully when the tune was over, to show his English
friends that the Bagpipe, in his opinion too, was
but a sorry instrument for so great a musician.

There is no man so thin-skinned as your real
Highlander fresh from his native hills, and the
Highlander was never so thin-skinned as just after
the '45, when, deserted by his leaders, he, in con-
sequence, lost the old confidence which he previously
had in himself, and in things Highland. He thought
the world was laughing at him, and the fear of being
laughed at was as gall and wormwood to him.
Accordingly, when the Sassenach quizzed the dress,
or language, or Bagpipe, Donald was ready to go
one better, and like poor doubting Thomas, disown
and curse what in his heart he loved more than
life.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 285

When the great Dr. Johnson called his language
"the rude speech of a barbarous people," Donald
acquiesced by his silence in a dictum born of
ignorance. Only here and there, like the voice of
one crying in the wilderness, was a protest raised.
In like manner he has been stripped of his kilt
without a murmur. And Mr M'Bain, who would
take from him the last and most precious of his
three great possessions, without caring how much
pain his words carried to many a loyal Highland
heart at the time they were written, walks the streets
of the Highland capital to-day in safety. O, High-
landers ! of a surety ye are a long-suffering race.

This is why I say that Donald was himself to
blame for the spreading of false stories about the
origin of the Highland Bagpipe,

When Pennant, or Martin, or M'Culloch, or other
inquisitive traveller, one hundred to two hundred
years ago (these visitors being really interested in
things Highland), began to question Donald — in all
good faith — about the origin of the Bagpipe, Donald
(suspicious and sensitive, and understanding but im-
perfectly the language in which he was addressed),
anticipated hostile criticism by attributing the origin
to the Dane, or Northman, or Roman, or Greek.
And so the opinions of the Highlanders — I speak
especially of the days after the '45 — are not worth
the paper they are written on, and are wholly mis-
leading.

Does history afford us any help in our research?
Have we any reliable data to go upon ? I think so,

286 SOME REMINISCENCES

and the dates, so far as known to me, although
few, I will give you later on when I come to talk of
the antiquity of the Bagpipe in Scotland,

Now, of all Bagpipe playing peoples, the High-
lander, as I have said before — if we except the
Roman and the Alexandrian — was the first to sub-
stitute the Pipe for the drum in war; and was alone
in resisting the addition to his Pipe of bellows and
keys. He perfected it as far as possible on the old
lines, and refused to assimilate it to modern in-
struments.

A "semi-barbarous instrument" it began, and a
"semi-barbarous instrument" it has ever since re-
mained in the Highlanders' hands. To modernize
it, even if this were possible, would mean its decay.

The Highlander long ago believed in himself,
and looked down upon the more effeminate Low-
lander. He was not ashamed but proud of his
language, and of his dress, and of his music. His
Bagpipe was perfect in his eyes. It did not admit
of improvement. No bellows for him ; no modern
scale ; no keys on the chanter.

A war instrument he made it, and a war
instrument he meant to keep it; and so, to-day, thanks
to this belief Un himself and in his Pipe, the people of
vScotland — almost alone among peoples in this — can
boast of a national music, and a national instrument.

The history of the Bagpipe in the Highlands —
as apart from Scotland — is, in reality, the history of
the Highlander, and would require a book to itself.
No event of any importance took place in the old

AND THE BAGPIPE. 287

days that was not recorded on the Bagpipe; whether
the death of the Chiefs piper, or the birth of the
Chief's son and heir ; whether the little Clan fight
in some out-of-the-way corner, or the Jacobite death-
strugfofle at Culloden ; it was the onlv record the
Highlander possessed of these events ; and we can
safely wander along the highways and byeways of
Highland history with no other guide in our hands
than Bagpipe music.

•'The Desperate Batde," 1390; '' Pibroch of Donald
Dhu" and ^'Ceann na Drochit Mor,'' 1427; '' Blar
na Leimie,' 1544 ; " Ceann na Drochit Beg,'' 1645,
and fifty other Pibrochs I could name, had each their
separate tale of battle for the Highlander. Play,
even now, to one of the old school, well versed in
Pibroch, "The Desperate Battle," or "The Massacre
of Glencoe," and watch his face. In the waves of
feeling which come and go with the music, you can
read, in the first case, of the fierce love of battle,
which still smoulders beneath the calm exterior, and
in the second, the whole tragedy enacted on that bitter
night of shame and treachery.

And so to-day the history of the rising in '45 is
summed up for us Highlanders in three tunes : —
"The Prince's Salute," "Hey, Johnnie Cope," and
"Culloden Day."

After Culloden, the Bagpipe became once again
more of a national instrument, and less distinctively
Highland, and its records are those of a whole
nation, not of one part only.

Its strains are no longer confined to the hills

288 SOME REMINISCENCES

and glens of its native home. Its gay streamers
float proudly on many a foreign shore. Its fame
has already gone forth on the heights of Alma ;
in the streets of Lucknow; at Bloody Quatre Bras;
and on the stricken field of Waterloo. Ever in the
van of battle ; ever in the thickest of the fight, its
proud bearer courts the post of danger and of death
as his own peculiar right, sanctified by length of
years. And when his name is missing at roll-call,
look not for him on the outskirts of the battlefield;
waste not your time hunting behind boulder, or
peering into sheltering hollow, but make straight
for the front, where the fight waxed fiercest, and
the dead lie thickest, and there you will find him
sleeping with his comrades : surely the bravest
among man}^ brave ones, for of all who lie there,
he alone went forth unarmed to battle and to death.

For many years I hunted high and low for the
" Great War Pipe " of two drones, but without
success.

The Bagpipe shewn here is a facsimile of one
that lies in the Edinburgh Museum, without — un-
fortunately— any history attached to it. There is no
''combing" on the drones, and the terminals are
more or less pear-shaped, and the ferules are made
of lead. The chanter is of the same bore as the
present full-sized Highland Pipe, and the only
difterence between this Pipe and the modern one —
with the exceptions mentioned above — is the absence
of the large drone. This Bagpipe is made of
hawthorn, is very light to carry, and is the one I

The Hrkat Two-Dronk War Pipe of the Highlands:

Ornamented with lead, to be seen in the Edinburgh Museum.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 289

personally take with me when going from home. I
had the offer of a very nice two-drone set made out
of boxwood — a genuine eighteenth century set — not
many months ago. It came up from Wales, but
the owner did not know the value of it, and before
he had made up his mind what to ask, I picked
up a set in England for a tenth of the first price
he mentioned. I had some pleasant experiences
when on the hunt for the old Highland Pipe.
Once I found myself stranded for the night at a
small village on the West Coast, with no means of
getting away before morning.

To wile away the time, I asked an old school-
fellow who resided there, and one or two of his
friends, to spend the evening with me at my hotel.
After all the local gossip — much of it going back
over twenty years or more — had been discussed at
interminable length, and the night was still young,
conversation began to flag, in spite of the jogging
of an occasional tumbler of toddy, and my spirits
sank at the prospect of the long night before me.
But just a little before ten o'clock, my friend was
called out of the room, and after some mysterious
whisperings with the pretty barmaid behind the
door, he returned to announce in a sort of shame-
faced way, that a particular friend of his was down-
stairs wanting to see him, and might he bring him
up ?

"He is only a piper, although a good one, doctor.

But perhaps you wouldn't care to have him in the

room with you ? "

290 SOME REMINISCENCES

A piper ! I wouldn't care to have him in the
room with me ? For me, everything was changed
in a moment. '' Bring him up, by all means," I
said, and placed a chair for him on my right hand.
He was quite a gentlemanly lad, and modest for
a piper, and I had my reward before long for
the poor entertainment — all I could offer him —
when shouldering my *' Pipes," he opened up in
masterly fashion with that fine Pibroch^ '■^ Moladh
Mairi^'^ or, "The MacLachan's March," of which I
am very fond, largely for its own sake, but partly also
because my mother was a MacLachlan. After this
auspicious beginning, we two piped alternately,
while the others smoked and listened, and the even-
ing which threatened at first to be too long, but
which ultimately proved itself all too short, came
to a pleasant termination in the small hours of the
morning. And when I asked the young player to
whom was I indebted for so much good music, he
replied : —

" I am piper at Skibo Castle to Mr Carnegie.
He is away in America just now, and I am on
holiday."

With books as cheap as they are to-day, I am no
great believer in Free Libraries, but I shall not for-
get that once I was under obligation to Mr Carnegie
because, being a wealthy man and able to afford it,
he had the good taste to keep a Piper.

On another occasion, when yachting with my
friend, Mr Southerne of Solus, in the "Alcyone," a
well-known Clyde boat, and a most comfortable

AND THE BAGPIPE. 29I

one, we were driven early one evening by stress
of weather into Loch Torriden, Loch Broom being
our real destination. I had accepted my friend's
invitation to spend a fortnight with him cruising
among the Western Isles, principally in the hope
of picking up an old set of " Pipes."

My search, so far, had resulted in failure, so you
can imagine the delight with which I listened to
the store-keeper at Loch Torriden, as he told me
that there was an old piper — a very old man, well
over ninety years of age — living down by the shore,
not more than two miles away, who had been a
good player in his day, and who had still in his
possession the original old Bagpipe of two drones
upon which he used to play. My informant, who
was a most intelligent man, was quite sure that
there was no big drone. Away I went in high
glee with Mr Southerne — who is almost as enthu-
siastic in the search after Pipes as myself, and who
has added two of the most valuable Bagpipes to my
collection — feeling assured at last of success.

After a stiff walk over the hill by the very
picturesque but narrow and uneven track which did
duty for a road, we soon dropped down — or scrambled
down, for it was a very steep descent — upon the
piper's home, which we had no difficulty in finding,
as it was, indeed, the only house in the place.

The daughter, an old woman with thin grey hair,
and wrinkled, sallow skin, came to the door, and
blinked feebly at the two bold strangers, who had
so unceremoniously invaded her retreat. But after a

292 SOME REMINISCENCES

word of Gaelic from myself— a word which has often
stood me in good stead in the Highlands — and a
tune on the " Pipes," she became quite communi-
cative, and informed us, in a queer mixture of
English and Gaelic, that her father was not at home,
and that the old Pipe had been burnt in the fire,
two years before, by her brother, at the request of
the minister.

A lonelier spot than this where the old piper lives
you could not imagine, nor a bleaker.

The one redeeming feature is the glorious ex-
panse of sea in front — its clear blue waters at
flood-tide swelling up almost to the door of the hut;
and the glorious sunsets — one of which we watched
with delight — to be seen from the little window,
which looks west across the bay. Otherwise, there
was nothing here to soften the asperities of life, or
to relieve its monotony. And yet, the one little
earthly source of comfort and consolation left to
these lowly dwellers by the lone sea — the chanter
which the old man had loved all his life, and
fingered so fondly and so often, and to which he
had confided all his little joys and sorrows in the
past, was taken from, him, and burnt before his
eyes, by his own son, at the instigation of the
F.C. minister. The old maiden lady looked sad as
she told us the story of the burnt Pipe ; otherwise
she complained none, but ever and anon she cast
a wistful glance at the well-appointed Bagpipe
under my arm, and her looks were eloquent of

regret.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 293

"You like the Pipes?" I said.

"Oh, that I do," she answered in Gaelic.

"Would you dance if I piped to you?" I then
asked.

She peered at me closely out of half-closed eyes,
as if not comprehending my meaning — as if trying
to read my thoughts — half afraid that I must be
laughing at her. But when I quietly repeated the
challenge, it touched my heart to see the tears well
up in those dim eyes, and the blush of pleasure
struggle through the tan on those thin cheeks.

She looked down at her feet, with a coy move-
ment of her short skirts, eminently feminine. The
feet were hopeless. The heavy, clay-covered boots
were sizes too large, and there was not the vestige
of a lace in either of them, so that the hard, fire-
baked tongues curled down in front.

As she stood on the large flat stone by the side
of the door, raised above the muddy pools of water
which lay everywhere around, waiting, with sad,
impassive face for the music to begin, she looked
a pathetic sight. Standing there, without one femi-
nine grace to relieve the hard, bony, angular,
weather-stained and weather-beaten frame ; without
one trace of colour in her dress to relieve its drab
monotony ; without one line of beauty on her face,
to tell that she had once been young, she seemed,
indeed, but the veriest anatomy of a woman — the
empty husk, out of which the joyousness of being
had long since fled.

But under the influence of the music, a perceptible

294 SOME REMINISCENCES

change was quickly brought about, and she became
transformed. The poor, bent back grew erect ; the
dull, expressionless face lighted up; the frail-looking
body, keeping time to the music, swayed gently to
and fro ; the clumsily shod feet began to move
about — at first with a dreamy, uncertain sort of up-
and-down motion, more like a woman walking cloth
or tramping clothes, then with more and more con-
fidence as memory wakened up under the spell of
that king of Strathspeys, " Tullochgorum,'' until at
length we saw evolved as out of chaos, some beautiful
old-world steps, smooth and graceful in movement,
and quite unknown to the modern lightning-speed
dancer.

Once before I saw the same steps danced by an
old lady of eighty, in Skye — Miss M'Leod, of Caroline
Hill — whose offer to teach me some thirty-two difter-
ent Strathspey steps, which she said she could dance,
I have ever since regretted not accepting.

When the dance was over, it was time for Mr
Southerne and myself to be getting back to the
yacht; so I paid the old lady a well-deserved com-
pliment on the pretty steps she shewed us, and we
bade each other a kindly good-bye. How little it
costs to give pleasure to a fellow-creature at times,
and yet how often we miss the chance? On this
occasion I felt pleased to think that we had managed,
with so little effort, to add a few happy moments to
the life of this lonely woman, whose chances of
amusement were so few. I like to think of the old
piper's daughter, not as we first saw her, when she

AND TPIE BAGPIPE. 295

came blinking and winking at us out of the smoke,
a worn-out, wizened woman, spiritless and dejected-
looking, but as we left her on that day, standing
upon the flat stone in front of the cottage, looking
years younger, and waving us a smiling farewell ; I
like to remember her as we saw her from the crest of
the hill for the last time, bathed in the warm glow
of the setting sun, with the light of the dance still
in her eye, and a look of happy wonderment on her
face at something which Mr Southerne had whispered
into her ear- -or ?

Well I I was not looking, and so could not swear
to it.

I hurried back to the Manse to have it out with
the old vandal, but found him from home, so I
discussed the situation with his housekeeper, a stout,
pleasant-looking old lady, who sympathized with me,
but could not vmderstand what I wanted with an
old set of Bagpipes when I had such a nice one
under my arm.

" I am very fond of the Bagpipe myself," she
said, "and I like no dance so well as the "High-
land Fling."

Here was a chance to avenge the burning of the
Pipe, so I immediately proposed a reel.

" O ! indeed, sir, I am much obliged to you, but I
am too stout : but there's Christina in the kitchen.
She comes from Inverness, and is a fine dancer."

Christina, a fair-skinned bonnie lassie, with a
wealth of golden hair, and straight as a lath, came
tripping out at the first call, every movement full

296 SOME REMINISCENCES

of grace. She wasted no time in idle pretence when
she learned from the housekeeper that we wanted to
see her dance, but turned to me, and said quietly,
"Can you play the ^ Semi Truis?''^''

In reply, I struck up the tune, and if her move-
ments in walking were graceful, her dancing was
superb. After a short rest, she danced the " High-
land Fling," and again we were forced to applaud, for
— as the old teller of tales would say — if the '■'■Sean
Tritis''' was good, the "Highland Fling" was better.
In the meantime some young men from the village,
which was a good way off, attracted by the sound
of the Bagpipe, joined us, and soon I had three or
four sets dancing together, under the very manse
window.

My revenge would have been complete, if only the
minister had come back in time to see his staid
housekeeper dancing, on his own lawn, with an
abandon which savoured of anything but the Church,
while Mr Southern, her partner — an absolute stranger,
too ! — endeavoured, but in vain, to encircle that
ample waist.

Christina, during this time, was doing great
execution among the young men of the village —
in fact, she fairly danced herself into the heart
of more than one susceptible that night, and I
felt that it was time to be moving yachtward,
when I saw Mr Southerne — all-forgetful of his dear
wife at home — disputing Avith one of the natives
as to the possession of the ruddy-cheeked, ruddy-
haired, laughing, dancing nymph of the manse, who

AND THE BAGPIPE. 297

in all she did, was but obeying nature, if perhaps
disobeying the mandates of the Free Church.

In the autumn of 1893 I found myself at Tongue,
in Sutherlandshire, on the old quest. Tongue was
famous at one time as a piping centre, and gave
more pipers to the British Army than any other
district of Scotland, excepting Skye. I found pipers
in plenty, but no Bagpipe older than myself. After
being entertained with some excellent Pipe music
in one house where no fewer than five brothers
fingered the Chanter, I, in return, was asked to
give a tune on the Northumbrian "Small Pipe,"
which I had with me, as I generally found that
the sight of a strange Pipe gave a jog to the
memory, and set people a-talking, but on this
occasion, the Tongue — I apologise — refused to wag.

No sooner had I strapped on the bellows, and
given it a squeeze or two, than a young girl, who
had hurried in from the shearing, astonished to
hear piping at such an hour — a delicate -looking
girl, with a sweet face, and a glorious head of rich
brown hair (who being an only daughter, was
evidently the pet of the family) burst out laughing.

'■^ Fan Samhachy''' said the mother, sharply. "Be
quiet ! "

But although the poor thing made convulsive
efforts to obey the warning voice, and stuffed the
corner of her apron into her mouth in the brave
attempt, she bubbled over, every time I began to
play, with uncontrollable laughter — in which I had
to join, so infectious was it — until at length she was

298 SOME REMINISCENCES

ordered out of the house ; but the others present
remained grave and stern as judges.

Time and again, peeping timidly round the corner,
the irrepressible one tried to come back — for, Eve-
like, she was curious to hear the strange little in-
strument— but never got further than the door.
The Bellows-Pipe was too much for her keen sense
of humour. At every fresh attempt she broke down,
and at last turned and fled from the rising wrath
ot her angry mother, who was afraid lest I should
" think her very rude.''''

Now, about the same time that I was picking up
my experience in the little village of Tongue, a
great "lady out in India found herself in somewhat
similar plight to this crofter lassie, and the Bag-
pipe was again the cause — shewing anew how true
it is that ' ' one touch of nature makes the whole
world kin."

The following story is told of herself by Lady
Dufferin : —

*'The Maharajah entertained us right royally,
and every meal is a banquet ; his pipers played for
us at dinner, and walked round the table after-
wards. They are really rather good, but they played
several different tunes in the room." I suppose the
writer here means that they stopped at the end of
each tune, and started again without leaving the
room, not that they played different tunes at one
time — "and the Bagpipes groaned in such a fearful
manner at the beginning of each, that in spite of

AND THE BAGPIPE. 299

the viceregal gravity of D.'s face, / could not help
laughwgy

On another occasion, her good manners were also
severely tried, and the Bagpipe was again to blame.

"Another Punjaub Chief, Nabha, let his pipers
play to us at luncheon. It was very amusing to
see them, as the whole costume is Scotch, but pi7ik
silk tights have to be worn to simulate the delicate
complexion of the ordinary Highlander's knee." (The
italics are mine.)

I like Lady Dufferin's description of the High-
lander's knee, although it puts a different complexion
upon it. English tourists who wear the kilt in Scot-
land to distinguish themseh^es from the natives,
might, perhaps, take a needful hint from the pink
silk tights of this Indian Chief, and so bring the
over-delicate complexion of their knees — which is fre-
quently painful to contemplate — more into harmony
with the dress and its surroundings.

CHAPTER XXXI.

PIPING AND DANCING DYING OUT IN THE
HIGHLANDS.

TT is a great pity that piping and dancing have
-^ been so much discouraged in the Highlands in
recent times. The sources of amusement in the long
winter evenings left to these people, living often in
lonely townships — frequently cut off from all com-
munication with the outside world for a great part
of the year — were never too numerous, and it
would have been a wise and a generous policy on
the part of their spiritual guides to have left them
undisturbed, and added to them wherever possible.

But to-day, the choice of entertainment for the
Highlander lies between these two things — theologi-
cal discussion, and whisky — both good, no doubt,
in moderation, but both dangerous, and apt to lead
to quarreling when abused. For over fifty years,
the Free Church, carrying out, as I have said before —
perhaps, also, unconsciously? — the earlier policy of the
Catholic clergy, has been the sworn foe of piping
and dancing.

For over fifty years the Free Church priest

AND THE BAGPIPE. 3OI

has done his best to stamp out other innocent
amusements, such as the telling of old tales, and
the singing of old-world songs at the Ceilidh^ until
to-day, all sounds of mirth have fled the land and
left it desolate.

I have piped to the children standing in the
market-place, and they have not danced ; I have
mourned to them — over the loss of strathspey and
reel — but they have not wept. It is difficult to
believe that changes so sweeping could have taken
place in so short a space of time, but it is true.
Some years ago I passed through the Caledonian
Canal on board the S.Y. " Ileen," owned by Mr
Salvesen of Lathallan, and I was very much struck
with the number of people we met v/ho had seldom
or never heard the Bagpipe.

The Strathspey and reel, and "Highland Fling"
seemed also to have fallen into complete neglect,
and to be all but forgotten.

Whenever I got a few children together, I
questioned them on these matters, and was more
than astonished at their ignorance of Highland
music and dance. Some of the children could
dance a polka or a waltz, or even a schottische, to
the accompaniment of a concertina, but could not
dance a single reel step, even to the music of the
Great Highland Bagpipe. I tried always to wean
them from the Lowland abomination ; I tried always
to interest them in the dance of their forefathers ;
and at several places in the neighbourhood of Inver-
garry, I taught the little ones a reel step or two

302 SOME REMINISCENCES

wherever I could get a few together — whether on
the public road, or in the fields, or by the river
side. It was quite refreshing to note the quickness
with which they picked up the old steps, and to
mark the evident delight with which they listened
to the old music.

One beautiful afternoon we started off to visit
the Falls of Gary, and while walking by the side
of the river, I saw a little school, which stood on
an eminence some distance back from the stream, but
on the opposite side, dispersing for the day. One
blast of the Pipe was enough to draw the whole
school trooping down through the meadows to the
river side, and from the opposite bank, cries of:

"Please sir, a tune!" "Please, sir, a tune!"
came quickly in pleading accents from a score of
little throats.

"Give me a song, first," I said, "and I will give
you a tune."

"What song would you like, sir?"

" A song about Prince Charlie."

"Who was Prince Charlie?" queried the spokes-
man of the party, a tall, red-lipped, red-cheeked,
shapely laughing girl, with stray sunbeams in her
hair.

"You know well enough who Prince Charlie was,
and I want a song about him," I replied. After a
hurried consultation, and much whispering in groups,
and shaking together of litde heads, the leader stood
forward and shouted bravely across the swift-flowing

AND THE BAGPIPE. 303

Stream — " We can't sing any song" about Prince
Charlie."

I at once took "we can't" to mean '*\ve daren't,"
and said — "What ! you call yourselves Highlanders,
and live in the beautiful Highlands, and don't know
who Prince Charlie was, and you can't sing a song
about him? You should be ashamed of yourselves!
Why, I live in the Lowlands, but yet I can tell you
a lot about Prince Charlie, and I can sing you a song
about him too ; and I love his memory after all these
years. My forefathers bled and died for Prince
Charlie, if yours did not."

" Have you four fathers, sir?" piped in a little girl;
" I have only one." "And quite enough too," put
in a second mite ; at which they all laughed heartily.
No dullards, evidently. And — this I said to myself —
they know of, and can sing about, Prince Charlie,
in spite of their assumed ignorance. So, as a last
shot, I asked once more for a song, and promised —
in as solemn and mysterious a manner as I could
assume — that I would not tell the " Meenisther."

Again there was a clustering together of little heads
in consultation, but this time I was to be rewarded for
my perseverance. Falling back to right and left, the
group disclosed my Nighean Ruadh standing erect
like a queen in their midst. Stepping slightly in
advance of her companions, she sang in a clear voice,
and with many blushes which became her well, that
beautiful old song, "Come o'er the stream, Charlie,
brave Charlie, dear Charlie," leaving the chorus to be
taken up by the others.

304 SOME REMINISCENCES

It was a glorious day altogether — an Indian summer
day — and the warm sun shone brightly overhead,
lighting up the beautiful glen rarely. Seated by the
banks of the murmuring river, lazily enjoying the
warm air which came floating down the glen laden
with the smell of larch and spruce, my thoughts insen-
sibly went back to the days of the '45, and I thought
of Prince Charlie as he was before continuous misfor-
tune tried the temper of his spirit, and found it
awanting. I remembered him only as the brave
young soldier, hardy and temperate, kindly and true,
gallantly fighting for a crown that was his own, as
surely as anything can be called one's own in this
world. And the refrain of the old song, "Come o'er
the stream, Charlie" (in which perforce we joined),
sung by these little children as they sat round their
leader on the grassy banks of the Gary, with the
rushing sound of its black, quick-hurrying waters for
an accompaniment, went to my heart, and — I am not
ashamed to say it — brought the tear to my eye. I
responded with a Jacobite air on the " Pipes," and
the ice being now fairly broken, and the fear of the
" Church" put behind us — after some dancing, which,
I am sorry to say, did not include the reel, as none of
them could dance it — we sang and piped to each other
alternately until the lengthening shadows warned us
to start for the Falls if we were to get back before
dark. For some miles through the glen, these
children — always separated from friends and myself
by the swollen stream, which was that day in spate — •
followed the piper, altho' he was not what you might

AND THE BAGPIPE. 305

call a brilliant performer ; and it was always the same
soft, childish, pleading cry that floated across the dark
waters — "Just one other tune, sir; just one other
tune."

And yet this day of innocent pleasure for old and
young alike, and the children's evident delight in
the dear old music, would be denied them if the
" Meenishter" had his way. But, in spite of the Free
Church, I am glad to think that the so-called
reformers in the Highlands, who reformed on Knox's
principle — " Pu' doun the nests, and the rooks will
flee awa' " — have not quite eradicated — have not
eradicated at all — the love of the Celt for Bagpipe,
and dance, and song. It is still there, ready to assert
itself on the smallest encouragement, in spite of the
repeated attempts of clerical bigotry to stamp it out.
I had a capital example of this one day while waiting
on the Ileen, as she made her slow way through
one of the many locks on the canal. On the hillside,
due north of the lock, and not very far away, a little
thatched cottage peeped down timidly at the passer-by.
It looked old enough and Highland enough for any-
thing ; so being anxious to throw away no chance
of finding an original Highland Bagpipe, I ascended
the hill and knocked at the door. No welcome
**//?c i stoi'' fell upon my ears in answer to my
summons, but, after some delay, a man with a very
pale face and black bushy whiskers, appeared in the
doorway, and eyed us suspiciously. I greeted him
in Gaelic, but he only stared at me : he knew no
Gaelic. Campbell was his name. He was a shoe-

.-^Od SOME REMINISCEN'CES

maker to trade. He knew nothing about the Bagpipe,
and he had never seen an old set of " Pipes," nor had
he heard the sound of the Bagpipe itself for years.
Strathspey and reel had ever been strangers to him.
His children, the eldest of whom was a nice-looking,
intelligent boy of six, had never seen a Bagpipe, nor
even heard of the Highland fling. Not a healthy
state of affairs, surely, in a Highland cottage — no
Gaelic, no kilt, no Bagpipe, no Highland fling. I
began at once to teach the little ones something of
these matters, and finished off the lesson with a
practical demonstration — Air Ure, one of my friends,
dancing to them, while I piped. Then by dint of a
little coaxing, and the expenditure of a few pence, I
got the children themselves formed up in line, and
in an incredibly short space of time my friend and I
had them going through the figure of eight — at first
without, and then to music — "as if to the manner
born."

When the smaller ones were tired, I took Johnnie,
the eldest, and taught him one or two strathspey
steps, which he was soon able to dance to the music
of the Pipe, along with other steps of his own, extem-
porised on the spot.

The old love of the Pipe and the reel was here,
evidently, in the blood. Before our arrival, Johnnie
knew nothing of the Bagpipe or of the Highland
fling, and yet after one short lesson of ten minutes
or so, he learned to wriggle and throw his feet about
in most precise fashion, and even to extemporise
steps for himself, keeping ail the while most excellent

AND THE BAGPIPE. 3O7

time to music, the like of which he had never heard
until that moment ; and he heeled and toed, and
curved his arms gracefully over his head, as he spun
now to right, now to left, and gave an occasional
little "Hooch!" at the psychological moment, as if
he had danced and "hooched" all his life before.

When we reached Fort Augustus, the Royal Mail
steamer Gondolier^ crowded with passengers for
Oban and the South, could be seen coming down
Loch Ness, and the Ileen was detained above the
lock until she first passed through. This, it seems,
is the custom. Here we met with a poor Highland
crofter and his family, who had just been dispossessed
of their croft, and who were now travelling west in
search of a new home. Why they had thus been
suddenly thrown out upon the cold world I did not
learn. They carried their household goods with them,
strapped on their backs. The father, who told me his
simple story, without any grumbling against the hard
fate which dogged his footsteps, groaned under the
weight of a heavy kitchen table and two wooden
chairs ; the mother, who stood patiently in the back-
ground while her goodman recited his w^oes, was bent
double beneath a huge bundle of linen wrapped up
in a couple of red and black bedcovers ; while the
children were laden down to and beyond Plimsoll's
mark with pots and pans, and the minor household
utensils.

They were footsore and travel-stained ; and little
wonder, as they had been on the road since daybreak.
The little ones looked tired and hungry, and when

3o8 SOME REMINISCENCES

I learned that they were of my own clan — bad luck
to it ! — I got my friends interested in them, and we
feasted them upon milk and scones from a little
wooden stall which stood close by for the convenience
of travellers by the different boats passing through
the canal. The milk and scones disappeared in
princely fashion, but before famished appetites were
appeased the Gondolier had entered the lock.
And while she was still in the deeps, and the gates
were being closed, a brilliant idea came to me, who
am generally rather slow in seizing the occasion, and
I acted instantly upon it.

Why not get up an impromptu dance, with the
assistance of my companions, and make a collection
for the poor wanderers ? There was only one objec-
tion to the carrying out of the idea. Two of my four
friends knew little or nothing about the strathspey,
and the other two owned only one step between them.
But when I divulged my scheme, they, like the good
fellows that they were, immediately consented to give
an exhibition ; and they kept their word.

Hurried orders were given by everybody to every-
body, and in a moment all was excitement and bustle.
The directions reduced to paper v.'ere delightful in
their simplicity. Jump high enough, and "hooch"
smartly, and do an occasional figure of eight.

There was time for a little practice before the boat
rose to view, and I took advantage of it, as I must
confess I fell nervous about dancing before an
audience. It happened exactly as I feared it would.
The reel went fairlv well until the rising boat brought

AND THE BAGPIPE. 309

US within ken of the people on board ; but then, with
all eyes turned upon them, my scratch team broke
down — the gyrations of arms and legs grew more and
more erratic; the " hoochs," losing all regard for time
or fitness, degenerated into wild shouts ; the figure
of eight got into knots, wdiich none could disentangle.
Gray accused Becker ; Salvesen made a brave attempt
to put both right, although he was a bit off the rails
himself ; while Ure, true to his kindly nature, tried
to throw oil on the troubled waters, and keep the
dance going, by leaping higher and higher, and shout-
ing bravely like a quarter-minute fog-horn at sea. The
look of wonder and amazement which spread over the
faces of the crowd on board the steamer as their eyes
fell upon the wild war-dance of the Highlands —
danced by five men, including the piper, with never
a kilt between them — was most entertaining to watch.
Under the gaze of so many eyes, all vestige of a
dance soon disappeared, and the exhibition degener-
ated into something not unlike a football scrimmage.

With tears of laughter running down my cheeks,
it was impossible for me to play any longer. And
so, dropping the Pipe, I stepped forward and apolo-
gised for our poor show, and shortly explained its
object.

I then took off my cap, and first calling for a
contribution from each of the four dancers — I called
it a "fine" for their execrable performance — I passed the
cap on board the boat ; and, thanks to warm hearts
beating behind loud checks, and kindly natures
lurking behind fierce eye-glasses, I had it returned

3TO SOME REMINISCENCES

to me with over twenty-seven shillings in it, which
comfortable little sum I handed over to my poor
clansman, and sent him on his way rejoicing.

In that very clever and very charming book,
"South Sea Bubbles," by "The Earl and the
Doctor," the authors had an experience among the
children in Raritonga and Samoa very similar to mine
in the Highlands. They tell the story to show how
difficult it is thoroughly to uproot old customs among
primitive peoples.

The Earl and the Doctor went to church in
Raritonga one Sunday afternoon in the exalted com-
pany of the king. The congregation was particularly
attentive, "but it was really painful to see both men
and women dressed according to the lowest style of
European ' go-to-meeting.' Where on earth did
the earlier missionaries pick up that curious idea of
the necessary identity of piety and ugliness?

"In front of us sat a grave and reverend elder, with
the most broad-church cut of black coat and white tie,
and a mighty pair of spectacles, looking exactly like
a very bilious Scotch precentor. He kept his eyes
steadily fixed on his hymn-book during the singing,
and bore his ' burden ' by keeping up that prolonged
humming drone so popular as an accompaniment in
these seas.

"This hum is by no means unlike the drone of a
Bagpipe. I have an indistinct recollection of
attending a cottage dance somewhere in the High-
lands long, long ago, when, for want of better music,
one man played the Jew's (or Jaw's?) harp, and two

AND THE BAGPIPE. 3II

or three others kept up a prolonged monotonous
nasal drone very like that of my (black) friend in the
front benches.

"The warm-hearted, sensible Highland lady and
gentleman who represent the mission at Raritonga
are very different people from the typical missionaries
of the South Pacific.

" By no means believing that they can wash the
black-a-moor (or rather brown-a-moor) white by a
sudden application of Calvinistic white-wash, they
try to make him as good a brown-a-moor as they can,
and their labour has certainly not been in vain. How
easily this white-wash cracks and peels off may be
seen or heard by any one who keeps his eyes or ears
open." Dancing, I may explain, had been put down
for a longtime by the missionaries, more thoroughly
even at Raritonga than in the Highlands ; and this
fact is necessary to remember in order to comprehend
how the missionaries' white-wash at times cracks and
peels off.

'' One fact which we heard from a ' high personage'
rather tickled us. A short time ago a native drum
was brought to Raritonga from one of the neigh-
bouring islands, and the very moment the first finger
taps were heard, all the girls, down to the wee chiels
ten or eleven years old, began to wriggle and squirm
like so many galvanised frogs, shewing plainly that
the old dancing blood still ran in their veins."

The old paganisms are not to be stamped out so
easily.

" The Gawazee of Egypt and the Gitana of Spain

312 SOME REMINISCENCES

have kept to their old dances, in spite of priest or
mollah, for many an age, and so it will be here. If
any real improvement is to take place, I should
propose that each ball should be attended bv the
missionary and his wife."

This good advice I pass on to the F.C. ministers
in the Highlands and Islands, with the earnest hope
that it may be accepted, and acted upon.

" What right has an English or French mis-
sionary"— or Highland missionary? — "to say to a
whole race, ' You shall not dance, you shall not
sing, you shall not smoke, under the possible penalty
of eternal damnation in the next world?'" What
right, indeed ?

CHAPTER XXXI.

SKYE IN 1S76.

" My heart is yearninjj- for thee, O Skye !
Dearest of islands !
There first the sunshine g'laddened my eye

On the sea sparkling ;
There doth the dust of my dear ones lie.

In the old graveyard." — Nicholson.

A CHAPTER on Skye — the home of the
-^"^ MacCruimeins — will not, I hope, be thought
out of place in any book on the Bagpipe.

Skye ! at one time the land of romance and song :
the pipers' paradise, the fountain-head for many
generations of all that was good and worthy in piping
and Pipe music.

Skye ! the birthplace of many of our finest
Piohaireachd — the pibroch of rude, wild nature, with
the living breath of the great North Sea in it — the
Pipe tune filled with the echo of breaking waves, as
they churn themselves into ragged foam in the great
sea-caverns below — the melodious Skye song, with
the sound of the rowlocks in it, and the irriom
of the boatmen as they sail by on summer seas, and
the cry of the sea-birds, and the sigh of the south-

314 SOME REMINISCENCES

west wind — the ' lament,' with the sadness and the
sorrow in it, and the slow, stately movement of the
mighty ocean in it — the lone ocean that plays ever
round the island (now in calm, now in storm), waiting
patiently for that great day when its secrets shall be
disclosed, and " the sea shall give up its dead."

What Highlander can listen unmoved to Bagpipe
music "with the story in it," such as we have in
"The Lament for the Children," "The Lament for
the Only Son," "Macintosh's Lament," or "The
Lament of the Sisters" ?

Or again, knowing the circumstances under which
" MacCruimein's Lament" was composed, the heart
must indeed be of stone that fails to respond to that
saddest of sad refrains, " Cha till! Cha till! Cha till
mi tiiille^" when heard sung — as it ought always to
be sung — in the old soft Gaelic tongue.

'* ISIacCruimein will Never Return" is the Highland
emigrant's song above all others — the song with the
bitter cry of the exile in it, the song that makes vocal
the dumb moan of the despairing heart as the loved
shores recede with each blast of wind that hurries
the ship onward. There is a story attached to this
pibroch, as to so many others,

During the Rebellion of 1745, MacLeod of MacLeod
led a military expedition from the Isle of Skye — and
it was not to help Prince Charlie either. The night
before sailing, MacCrimmon the piper, who formed
an important part of the expedition, had a peep into
the Book of Fate. A dream came to him in the
stillness of the night ; 'and in his dream he beheld

AND THE BAGPIPE. 315

the shrouded figure of a man stand before him — a
dead man, with pale wan face, and shrouded up to
the eyes. And as he looked, the face seemed to him
strangely familiar, and the dreamer awoke with a
start. It was his own face that shewed above the
shroud.

The story varies, and the second sight came through
a friend gifted with the power. But what does it
matter through whom comes death's summons, when
it does come?

It was the strong presentiment of something evil
going to happen to him, and the yearning and love
for his island home, which he was forced to leave on
an expedition in which his heart was not, that wrung
from MacCrimmon the agonising cry, " " Cha till!
Cha till! Cha till mi tuille." And to this circum-
stance we owe one of the most beautiful Highland
songs ever written.

Not ^^ Au revoir!'" sang the "Pipes" on board the
wherry on that fateful morning, but "good-bye!"
And his friends, left weeping on the shore, and
remembering the "second sight," too surely knew
that they were looking for the last time on the passing
of the great Piper, and that his " Farewell" was indeed
"For Ever."

I once heard " MacCrimmon's Lament" sung at a
Highland gathering in Glasgow, and while I live I
shall not forget how vividly it recalled to my mind
the whole scene of that last leave-taking. Those
who have read this book so far will not, I feel sure,
think me over-imaginative ; but on this occasion my

3l6 SOME REMINISCENCES

ima^^ination ran riot, and I felt as if the sorrow and

the burden of that bitter parting had fallen upon me.

I was the piper under the death warrant ; I it was

who was leaving the "dearest of islands," every stone

of which I loved ; I it was who was playing the

"Farewell" which my tongue refused to utter: for

me the women and children on the shore were waving

farewells and weeping.

The spell of the singer lay long upon the meeting

— long after the last note of the song had died away

in silence — but at length the well-deserved applause

thundered forth, and woke me from my reverie ; and

it was with a tear in my eye and a sob in my throat

that I turned to my companion and whispered in his

ear the words which stand at the head of this chapter

— words which, I need hardly say, are taken from

the best song ever written by a son of Skye. Walter

Smith called it Nicholson's one genuine song —

" My heart is yearning for thee, O Skye,
Dearest of islands."

I lived for many years in Skye, and made my
first home there, and during my stay I learned to
love the island — and I love it still — with the love
of a Nicholson. Can I use a stronger expression?
Pleasantest of companions was the late sheriff— a
Celt of Celts, a Highlander of Highlanders ; and oh!
how he loved the land of his birth.

On more than one occasion I have sailed with this
loyal Skyeman up Loch Snizort and round about
Lynedale and Greshornish, and past grim Dubeg,
and listened to his grave deliberate talk, so full of

AND THE BAGPIPE.

317

pawky humour, while the rowers pulled lazily at the
oars, or the wind gently wafted us over the clear
blue waters.

Now he would quote from his own writings, or
retail some old-world lore picked up in his journey-
ings through the Highlands ; or, again, he would
sing songs in his own quaint way. " Kate Dalrymple"
he was never tired of; giving the chorus nasally, and
scraping upon an imaginar_y fiddle across his left arm,
dividing the honours of the song equally between
Bagpipe and fiddle ; but always, whether talking,
or singing, or story-telling, he kept looking to right
and to left, and drinking in vrith greedy eye and ear
every sight and sound of his beloved Skye. Songs
of his own composition, too, he often gave us by
request. Of these his favourites were "The British
Ass," "Skye," '^ Ho ! Ro ! Mhorag," and "The
Isles of Greece." Of these songs, and of the singer,
Dr Walter Smith, Preacher and Poet, wrote: — "A
bright, breezy ditty is "The Beautiful Isles of
Greece," and it was good to hear him sing it.
' British Ass' has received the imprimatur of the
great Association for which it was written. . .
There is no march so delights the Scottish Brigade
of the British Army as ' Ai^ns O Mhorag !' But
the triumph of his verse is the exquisite —

' .My heart is yearning' for thee, O Skye !
Dearest of islands !'

Which breathes throughout the sweet pure air of the
Coolins by the sea. I would give a good deal to
have written that song — 10 have been capable of

3l8 SOME REMINISCENCES

writing it. Many a time I have felt my eyes grow
dim as he sang it ; and the last time not less than the
first. It is indeed a very scanty wreath we are able
to lay on his grave, but this one rich blossom will
perfume all the rest."

Nicholson studied for the Church, but soon gave up
theology, thinking — in his own words — '* the uniform
of the esteemed Free Church, of which I am a member,
too strait for me.'' And, thanks very much to the
teaching of this same strait-laced Church, Pipe music
in Skye in the seventies — I talk of last century — was
a negligible quantity, and. the quality was even
more so.

A stranger in those days might travel round the
island and never hear the sound of the Bagpipe.
From Dunvegan to Portree there was not a single
piper — unless Skeabost's man-servant could be called
one, the piper whose silence on the Sunday morning
the late Professor Blaikie lamented — and except at
the Skye gatherings, when pipers from the mainland
came to compete, I may say that during the six or
seven vears which I lived on the island. I never either

■J

saw a Piper or heard a Piper play.

Two amateurs of the " upper ten," who could afford
to defy the "priest," occasionally blew the bag; but
of the crofter class I met with none who could finger
the chanter.

The attitude of the Free Church in the Highlands
towards all forms of innocent amusements, including
piping and dancing, has much to answer for. It has
taken all the colour out of the people's lives, and at

AND THE BAGPIPE. 319

the close of the day the tired workers have nothing
to look forward to but dreary theological discussions,
fittingly carried on in blinding peat-reek.

The narrow policy of their spiritual guides has
taken the very colour out of the people's clothes, so
that on Sundays the church pews are filled with
solemn, gloomy-looking faces, staring at you out of
rusty blacks and rusty browns, and on week-days the
potato-drills are sprinkled with uninteresting crouch-
ing bundles of coarse, dull drabs, out of which
every vestige of bright, cheery, healthful humanity
has been well-nigh crushed.

The Rev. Roderick MacLeod, known sometimes
as "The Pope of Skye" — uncle to the great Dr.
Norman MacLeod — was returning late one evening
from a long tramp over the hills, when he met one
of his elders, and stopped to talk to him. After the
ordinary salutations had passed between the two men,
the minister, rubbing his hands, as if highly pleased
with himself, said — "Well, John, I have burnt the
last Bagpipe (or fiddle) in the parish. What do you
thiok of that, man ? What do you think of that?"

" It may be as you say, Mr MacLeod, and it may be
for good," replied John, "but you have not stamped
out all the music in the island yet ; to do that, Mr
MacLeod, you will have first to cut all the mavis'
throats in Skye." And good, honest John was right.

The minister's boast however, was not far off the
mark, and the Bagpipe was then, and for many a
long year after, pretty completely stamped out in its
old home.

320 SOME REMINISCENCES

Nor was the Free Church minister who lived near
Dunvegan in my day a whit behind the Rev. Rory
in his display of intolerance towards the music of
the Pipe. And what these two — narrow-minded
men, shall I call them? — were doing for the Winged-
Isle, others of the same creed, and equally bigoted,
were doing for the rest of the Highlands.

Once, when Miss MacLeod of MacLeod was
giving an afternoon tea party to the children on the
estate, she engaged an old piper to go round with
his Pipe and gather the children together from the
widely-scattered townships, and march them down in
a body to the Castle grounds. The Free Church
minister on the following Sunday actually denounced
the dear old lady from the pulpit, for doing so.

He took for his text "The Scarlet Woman," a
name suggestive to the poor people, who sat silently
listening to the impertinent tirade, of everything that
is vile and worthless.

A more refined, charming, altogether delightful
old lady than Miss MacLeod of MacLeod I have never
met. She lived her whole life in Skye, and could
not be tempted south, summer or winter, in order
that she might have more to spend on the poor. The
heavy-laden found in her a friend. She forgot not
"the widow and the fatherless " ; she nursed the sick
with a tenderness not always to be learned in hospital;
she was the confidant of half the parish. When she
had more than usual difficult}' witli a case, she took
me into her counsels, and I felt honoured at such
times to be allowed to work with her, and proud that

AND THE BAGPIPE. 32 1

I could be of some assistance to her in her great
lifelong work of charity. Whatever I prescribed on
such occasions, whether medicines, jellies, soups, or
wines, she ungrudgingly supplied.

Nor did such services to the poor round about the
door satisfy this large-hearted woman.

Some reports appeared in the newspapers about
this time commenting on the high mortality among
the newly-born children in St. Kilda — the loneliest
and most remote part of her brother's vast domains —
and she consulted me in her distress, for she was
deeply affected by these reports. When I suggested
to her that the cause was a preventable one, she said
quietly, " I shall go out to the island and see for
myself." And she did ! sailing across the treacherous
stretch of waters that separates St. Kilda from Skye
in an open boat. There she lived for several months
— this fine, delicately-brought-up, high-strung lady,
with hair white as the snowflake, making her bed with
the poor islanders, and eating of their simple fare.
And when she returned from her self-imposed mission
she again sent for me, and taking me up to the roof
of the Castle, where we would be undisturbed, she
told me in triumph that the cause was what I had
more than suspected, and that she had saved several
little lives while nursing on the island.

The last time I met this dear old lady is indelibly
impressed upon my memory. I got a letter one day
shortly before leaving Skye asking me to meet her
at a certain hour at a poor widow's house about a mile
and a half out of Dunvegan. With a horse in front

322 SOME REMINISCENCES

of me that could trot, I was there rather punctually.
It was a real Skye day : the wind bellowed and thun-
dered, and the rain came down in torrents. The
black, bleak-looking moorland in front of the cottage
was mostly under water, and there, stepping carefully
along from tussock to tussock, holding her thin black
dress carefully up out- of the wet, battered and buffeted
by wind and by rain, in thin house shoes out of which
the water poured at every step, was the Lady of the
Manor, on her errand of mercy. My heart filled with
admiration and love as the whole truth dawned upon
me. This high-born lady was in rags, or little better,
that the sick might be tended, and the hungry fed,
and the naked clothed. And yet the F.C. priest, who
was, no doubt, at that moment — for it was early in the
morning, and such a morning! — sitting snug in
his warm parlour toasting his feet at a comfortable
fire — had once dared to denounce her, whose shoe
latchet he was not worthy to unloose, for entertaining
the little children with a tune on the Great Highland
Bagpipe. Assuredly the Pioh-mhor has fallen upon
evil days in its old home in Skye !

In 1883 I left Skye for Falkirk, and, with the
exception of one flying visit paid to it in the following
summer, the island and I remained strangers to each
other for eighteen years.

In 1902, however, I again visited Skye, while on
a cycling tour through the Highlands in company
with my eldest daughter, and we spent a very pleasant
week there, visiting places new and old. We made
Kyle Akin our headquarters, putting up at the King's

AND THE BAGPIPE. 323

Arms Hotel, where Mrs M'lnnes, the genial hostess
— an old Skye friend of mine — made us most welcome.
We cycled round the island by easy stages, going to
Edinbane (my daughter's birthplace), via Broadford,
SHgachan, and Portree, and returning to Kyle Akin
by Dun vegan, Struan, and Carbost.

I am glad to say that things are different to-day in
Skye from what they were in 1S76.

At Struan, where we spent a night, and got up a
reel dance, in which the young men from the hill
joined, we met Mrs M'Lean, the lady of the Manse,
and from her v^e learned with pleasure that the
people were rapidly emancipating themselves from the
grievous thraldom of the Free Church in such matters
as music and dancing.

This is as it should be : the Highlander ought
not to give up his old customs and habits, w^hen good
and innocent, at the call of Church or State. As
our forefathers fought for the restoration of the kilt
and the tartan, so should we iight for the restoration
of the old dance and the old music, and go on fighting
until the Highlands becomes once more the land of
dance and song.

With the most picturesque dress in Europe, seen
to most advantage perhaps on the ball-room floor or
on the field of battle ; and a wealth of song that is our
very own, and which, for a certain sweet, quaint
pathos which it possesses, is difficult to match ; and
the Bagpipe, that is now the national instrument of
Scotland ; and a dance — the His^hland flin<^ — as
truly characteristic of the nation to-day as the Pipe,

324 SOME REMINISCENCES

why should we copy the South in our pleasures and
dress, to the utter neglect of these?

I had, unfortunately, only one short week to spend
in the island ; but I learned enough in that time to
assure me of the truth of Mrs M 'Lean's statement.

''Pipe to us," said the children, and the Pipes
were scarcely shouldered when I had around me an
eager, happy crowd.

At Kyle Akin each night we had a dance, in which
the visitors, old and young, joined, and I took care
to make it as Highland as possible.

It was on this visit that I met the " MacWhamle,"
who rated against the idle, lazy, contented poverty
of the Skyemen. Remembering this against him,
we determined to take notes as we went along with
which to refute him on our return.

We arrived at Kyle Akin one Wednesday afternoon
in the second week of September, and cycled away
the following morning after breakfast. The day was
gloriously fine, and the wind, which was but slight,
was in our favour. The road was simply perfect for
the first eighteen miles. Revelling in the scenery
and the freshness of the heather-scented air, we sped
along joyously. We had not gone many miles
when we saw a boy coming along the road
towards us.

" Look out for rags and hunger," I said ; but we
were agreeably disappointed. The boy was busy
with a huge "jelly piece," which he seemed to be en-
joying heartily, and returned my salutation pleasantly.
He was a sturdy little chap, with bare feet, certainly,

AND THE BAGPIPE. 325

but a grand pair of legs over them, and looked very
comfortable and clean in a nice suit of homespun.
A little farther on, we came upon three children
chasing a pet sheep out of the corn ; and their gay-
laughter, as they shouted and ran hither and thither
in high glee, after the errant one, fitted delightfully
into the gay feelings inspired by the bright sunshine
and beautiful scenery. Down by the shore, washer-
women were busy at work, and they gaily waved us
a wet welcome and farewell in "one breath."

Just before entering Broadford, we came up with
a little country cart. A smart little pony in a set of
bright new harness ambled along between the shafts.
The body of the cart was painted green, and the
wheels bright red. It was spotlessly clean. A young
lad drove, while seated on the straw in the bottom
of the cart, was a group of chubby, red-cheeked,
well-dressed children, looking so happy and contented,
and evidently enjoying the ride as only children can.
" Where," we asked, " is the idleness, and misery, and
poverty pictured by Mr MacWhamle?" so far we
only saw comfort, and happiness, and content. And
so it was all through our tour. We conversed with
everyone on the road ; we entered many of the
houses and saw few signs of grinding poverty such
as you meet with constantly in the slums of all
great cities ; we questioned, and were answered
brightly and pleasantly ; we piped, and they danced ;
if we gave pleasure, it was assuredly returned to us
fourfold, and when our short acquaintanceships came
to an end, we felt each time as if we were leaving

326 SOME REMINISCENCES

old friends. And how pleasant the flattery with
which our healths were drunk at parting, and how
polite the manners. " Here's to your health, young
leddy" — Donald's cap at this point is raised for a
moment, showing the innate gallantry of the man,
and then quietly replaced, showing his sturdy inde-
pendence— " you are a Skye-woman, and you are
the one that can dance whateffer, may your life be
happy whereffer you go, and may you often come
back to see us." "And here's to your health, sir,
and you pipe very well too, and you are not
ashamed of your native land, etc., etc."

No Irishman could improve upon this.

When we left Kyle-Akin, our intention was to go
as far as Sligachan, and rest there for the night,
visiting Loch Coruisk on the following day. The
journey from Sligachan to Coruisk and back takes
a full day, which, as it happened, we could ill
afford, and knowing that Broadford was not much
farther from the Coolins than was Sligachan, I en-
quired of an old man who was standing in the Post
Office when we called there for the inevitable post
card, if there was not a road to the famous Loch,
other than by Sligachan.

We were delighted to learn from him, that there
was such a road, although "a hilly one," and that
if " the leddy " — this with a polite bow — was not
afraid of an extra fifteen miles run to a place called
Elgol, and a sea journev of four or five miles at the
other end, we could do Coruisk much more easily
and expeditiously than by the wearisome tramp over

AND THE BAGPIPE. 327

the hills from Sligachan, and also save a day of
precious time.

The idea fitting in to our plans well, we at once
acted upon it, and following the directions of our
now self-appointed guide — who was most courteous
to us, although we were complete strangers to him —
we turned off the Portree road sharply to the left,
just under Ross's Hotel, and cut across country to
Elgol by Strathaird. This part of Skye was all new to
me, and we were richly rewarded for our enterprise
in invading unknown territory, by a most lovely
run through Suardal.

To describe the beauties of land and sea which
everywhere met our delighted eyes on this never-
to-be-forgotten day is outwith the scope of this
book, and far beyond the power of my poor pen.
Some miles out of Broadford, we came upon
" Cill Chriosd," the quiet burial-place of the Mac-
Kinnons.

It is situated just a little way off the main road
in the very centre of the beautiful Strath, and is
guarded on the south by a fresh water loch of the
same name, Loch Cill Chriosd, while to the north,
keeping watch and ward over the sleepers, Ben na
Cailleach rears its tall head to the skies. Basking
in the warmth of the soft September sun which
shone brightly out of a cloudless sky, Cill Chriosd,
as we saw it on that day, looked an ideal place in
which to rest when life's weary strife is o'er. With
the exception of a solitary fisher, who stood waist
deep in the water silently plying his rod, nor sight

328 SOIME REMINISCENCES

nor sound of life was there in all that vast expanse
to disturb its still repose. Here I read on the tomb-
stones the names of several old friends who were
alive and in their prime when I bade farewell to
Skye ; and even since the day on which I stood there
with uncovered head, another once well-known and
kind-hearted Skyeman, Donald M'Innes, has been
added to the number.

The road, as far as Torran, where we came again
within sight of the sea, proved almost as ideal as
the Kyle Akin road of the morning, cart ruts and
loose stones being noticeable by their absence.
At Torran, we sat down on a hillock by the road-
side, and, it being now past mid-day, we lunched
off chocolate cake. For drink, we enjoyed the clear
water from a tiny rivulet that gurgled close by, and
for dessert, we had a tune on the Bagpipe, then
filled with a lazy content, and the joy of idleness,
we turned to admire the scenery. A quiet sense
of repose covered the land. On our left, the
picturesque township of Torran lay simmering in the
mid-day sun ; in front, huge Blaavin, sloping down
grandly to the very edge of the water at the head of
the loch, slumbered peacefully ; at our feet, the blue
waters of Loch Slapin danced and sparkled in the
autumn breeze; while on our right, Ben Dearg spread
its mighty red-stained shoulder far up the lonely
glens, Srath Mor and Srath Beag. The Great Glen —
Srath Mor — forms a continuation on land of the
sea valley, and looking at it from Torran, it curves
slowly to the right in a great semicircle, and

AND THE BAGPIPE. 329

gradually disappears among the mountains, a noble
and imposing spectacle.

On the opposite side of the loch, we could follow
with the eye for a mile or two, the road to Elgol,
as it wound itself ever upward round the mountain
side, its steep gradient warning us that to C3^cle up
would be impossible, and to cycle down might be
somewhat dangerous.

While we sat enjoying the quiet and beauty of
the scene, a young lad came whistling merrily up
the hill. Of him I enquired if there were any
Pipes or Pipers in Torran, and was told that there
was " not one since young M'Kinnon the shepherd
left. He played the Pipe ferry well : Oh yes ! he
was a ferry goot piper whateffer."

1 have seldom heard the Highlander — the West
Coast Highlander at least — soften the v into / as
this lad did : " Tonalt " is not often met with out of
English novels, or I have been fortunate hitherto in
missing him.

As there was evidently nothing to be learned in
Torran that would be helpful to me in the writing
of my book, we resumed our journey without
visiting the township. After a pleasant run on the
level round the head of the loch, we came to the
foot of the hill, where — as we feared — we had to
dismount and walk, which was perhaps as well, the
surface being very rough in parts. A fast spin
down the other side of the hill — the road here again
being excellent — made up for lost time, and brought
us to the lodge of Strathaird.

330 SOME REMINISCENCES

Here we stopped for a few minutes, and made
friends with the " keepers," through their children,
whose pockets we stuffed with sweets, and after
another long climb we arrived at the gates of Elgol —
for the place is guarded by a wall and gates on its
landward side, and protected by nature on the
opposite side, where it shews a bold, precipitous
face to the sea.

Elgol, meaning, as I was told, "the cold spot,"
was anything but a cold spot on this bright Sep-
tember day.

Its position, perched on a cliff high above the
sea, is not unlike that ot one of the beautiful cities
on the Mediterranean.

When we arrived there, it was to find the fields
all astir with shearers — men, women, and children —
busily cutting down the golden grain ; and one of
these, a smart, sailor-dressed lad, came forward and
spoke to us as we stood with uncertain hand upon
the gate. He seemed to understand our errand before
we spoke, and led us promptly to the head-man of
the village, who lived in a large two-storied, well-built
house, with slated roof, standing on the edge of the
cliff — a house much superior to any of its neighbours.
A profusion ot oars and sails and tarry rope giving
off a delightful aroma in the warm sun, announced
the calling of the master — MacLeod was his name,
if I remember aright.

Standing on the edge of the plateau, just behind
the house, where we discussed terms, the view we
had was simply magnificent.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 33I

Such a wealth and profusion of wild beauty and
grandeur on land and sea as spread itself out before
our astonished gaze, it would be difficult to equal
the world over. I speak as a traveller who has
visited many strange countries, and seen many
wonderful sights.

Nature was in befitting silent mood here, as if
resting satisfied with her handiwork ; and well she
might feel satisfied. Beyond the faint murmur of the
sea rising up from the foot of the cliff, as it caressed
with gentle touch, the golden tresses of sea-weed
floating lovingly upon its breast, and the distant call
of the sea-mew, no sound broke the deep silence.

A flock of gulls lazily swinging to and fro at the
foot of the cliff, looked, from the heights on which
we stood, like drifting snow-flakes.

Not a breath of air was stirring.

The great Coolins across the bay tower'd aloft,
huge in their giant repose.

There was not a cloud in the sky, nor a speck of
mist on the mountain's side, to veil the clear, clean,
sharp-cut peaks, as they pierced the blue ether.

Viewing the fair scene from right to left, Elgol
looks down upon Camasunary, with its pleasant
white-walled shooting lodge and sheltered bay — in
which, on the day of our visit, two yachts, looking
no bigger than sea-birds, lay at anchor — and upon
Loch Scavaig, whose blue waters play ever round
her feet ; and northwards to where the Coolins sit,
nursing Coruisk in their lap ; and out west — over
Minginish headlands on to the great Atlantic, and

332 SOME REMINISCENCES

down once more upon Eilean Soay guarding the
entrance to the bay ; and south to where Rum and
Canna lie sleeping, and Ardnamurchan wages eternal
battle with the waves. And still farther south by
west — so clear was the air on this particular day —
the many peaks of the mountain range extending
from Morar to Morven, through Strontian, Kilmalieu,
and Kingairloch could be seen silhouetted, faint but
clear, against the opal sky.

It was under such weather conditions that we
visited the famous Loch Coruisk, but the want of
cloud and mist took away largely from the solemnity
and mystery of the place, and I preferred the scene
as I had seen it many years before, on a day when
the heavy wind-driven mists were rolling grandly
off the sides of the mountains, and the lofty peaks
were buried in black thunder-clouds.

Slipping, and sliding, and stumbling over loose
stones, we made our way to the shore by a steep
path fit only for goats, and while we were launching
the boat— no child's play, I can assure you, pushing
the ancient-looking, heavy, water-logged thing through
the loose shingle, and over innumerable boulders
of black slippery rock — a smart breeze sprang up.

Our boat was an old fishing boat, its only seat,
the beam in the centre. It was not one whit better
equipped, or more seaworthy than that from which
the great Dr. Johnson dropped his spurs into the
sea more than a hundred years before when coasting
round Skye. The men sat in the bottom of the
boat, the steersman sat aft on the gunwale, while

AND THE BAGPIPE. 333

my daughter and I occupied the seat of honour in
the centre. Before starting, we took on board for
ballast, a number of large stones.

The wind, which kept growing in force, being dead
against us, the men had to row for a good hour, but
at length trusting to catch a slant of wind coming off
the mountain side, the primitive lug-sail of brown
cotton, and indifferently patched, was hoisted on a
rude primitive mast, which was "stepped" primitive
fashion in a heap of loose stones.

A curious little incident happened on the way out.
My daughter, who was born in Skye, as I have said
before, and who spoke Gaelic as a child fluently, had
unfortunately completely forgotten the old tongue
during her eighteen years' sojourn in the south.
Just as we were approaching the mouth of Loch
Scavaig, and the old boat, in spite of much creaking
and groaning, was slipping along splendidly, a
sudden squall struck her so heavily that she heeled
over until the gunwale was under water, and I — who
knew a little about boats — thought we were going to
the bottom. I was piping at the time, and my hands
being occupied (as I continued playing with a
seeming indifference to what was happening — an
indifference which I was far from feeling) I was shot
along the seat, with my daughter on the top of me,
and if I had not managed to stop our precipitate
flight to leeward, by getting my outstretched foot
against the gunwale of the boat, it is a matter of
speculation as to whether my researches into the
history of the Bagpipe would have been continued

334 SOME REMINISCENCES

or not. As v/e slid along the seat, my ^'' Nighean don
Boidheach,'" in the excitement of the moment, called
aloud to the men in Gaelic, ^^ Hic-i-stoi! Hic-i-stoi! ^'*
and immediately coloured up to her eyes with a
most becoming blush. The three sailor lads, who
had quickly lowered the sail, looked round in gentle
wonder, but said nothing.

We took to the oars after this for a time, and the
wind soon dying away as quickly as it had risen,
we rowed the remaining part of the journey to the
accompaniment of " The Macintosh's Lament,"
which I piped at the request of our skipper, John
Macintosh.

I had just got to the last variation — the Crumluath —
when two torpedo-boats, which had been lying close
inshore, hidden behind the Islands, shot out past us
at a tremendous pace, throwing up huge cataracts
of white foam as they tore along, stern first. I
immediately changed from the "Lament" to the
Sailor's Hornpipe. Jack hitched up his trousers as
he heard the well-known tune, saying by his action
as plainly as words could say, "you're piping to us,
and we would dance to you if we dared, but we're
on duty," and smiling "good-bye!" was swiftly
carried out of sight.

We saw Coruisk this day without a ripple on its
surface, reflecting back the clear blue sky as from a
mirror of polished silver. The bright sunshine pene-
trating, revealed every crack and crevice on the steep,
scarred sides of the grey-black rocks as they rose
abruptly from the water's edge ; and there was not

AND THE BAGPIPE. 335

anywhere — look high or low — a patch of mist the size
of one's hand, to soften the stern outlines, or to deepen
the mystery of that loneliest of lonely spots.

When walking round Loch Coruisk, I said to
Nelly (my daughter) :

" What was that you said to the sailors when the
squall struck us ? "

"Oh, yes; did you hear me, father? Did you
hear me? It was Gaelic!" and again she blushed
with pleasure at the remembrance.

'' I know that," I answered. " But what was it?"

"I told them to 'Hurry up.'"

"You told them to 'Come in,'" I replied, "'///c-
i-stoi is not 'Hurry up,' but 'Come in,' and it is
no wonder that the men v/ho were already ' in,'
looked astonished at your imperative call."

Now here, under the influence of congenial sur-
roundings— the surroundings of her childhood's
days — a language which has been in abeyance for
eighteen years is suddenly recalled ; but the special
part of the brain concerned having grown "rusty"
for want of use, gives off in the hurry and excite-
ment caused by the sudden approach of grave
danger, not the words wanted, but the first that
come to hand — the words which had been oftenest
heard, or oftenest used in infancy, and which had
made the deepest impression on the palimpsest of
the young brain — the words of welcome which greeted
the ear of every stranger knocking at the door of a
Highland cottage, '''' Hic-i-stoiy

Hospitality was the failing of the Highlander in

336 SOME REMINISCENCES

days gone by. Its over-indulgence spelt ruin to many
a good family in those days, and the law itself had
at one time to be put in operation to protect him from
the consequences of his own over-generous impulses.
In those days there was no suspicious peering out
from behind half-closed doors when rat-a-tat-tat
wakened the slumbering house dog. "Come in !"
rane out frank and free at the first summons.

That he knocked at the door, shewed him to be a
stranger. That he was a stranger, made him welcome.
These were his credentials. His rank or business
was of secondary consideration. The time of calling
mattered not. Morning, noon, and night, ^^ Hic-i-
stoi'' was to be heard all over the Highlands, and
the children, listening, took the words to heart, and
stored them up for future use. If they occasionally
sprang unbidden to the lips, as in the present in-
stance, is it to be wondered at?

I have said that hospitality was a failing of the
old Celt ; and a grand failing too !

No doubt it was often taken advantage of, and
abused by the lazy and the "ne'er-do-weel"; seldom,
if ever, by an avowed enemy. This it is which
makes the treachery of the Campbells at Glencoe all
the more glaring. " Hic-i-stoi'''' said the simple,
trustful people in the glen, when they saw the
Campbells shivering at their doors — the bleak
winter night fast closing in and a snow-storm
coming on. And the Maclans took them in out
of the cold, and feasted them, and rested them,
sharing their very beds with them.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 337

In the mornino;, when the Campbells moved out
down the Glen, muttering in'^ their] coward . beards,
there were no good-byes — not even one innocent
child's voice to cry after them — " God-be-with-you."

Fire and sword had done their work thoroughly
and well. The desolation of death filled the glen.
And when the news, which spread like wild-fire,
broupht incredulous friends on the morrow to the
scene, they saw before and around them, nothing
but blood-stained hearths and blackened rafters and
smouldering ruins, where but yesterday was sweet
smiling home with its welcome " Hic-i-Stoi."

We sailed back to Elgol in sunshine, the men
rowing leisurely over a sea smooth as glass and
matching in colour the brilliant hue of the finest
sapphire. The wind, ashamed of the trick it had
played us on the way out, hid itself away for the
rest of the day.

We heard of three pipers in Elgol, but as they
were still on the Clyde yachting, we had no oppor-
tunity of judging their playing.

We found the Elgol men a smart, intelligent lot of
fellows, quick and decided in their movements. There
was also an independent, manly bearing about them,
which spoke volumes in their favour. They were all
dressed in navy-blue cloth, sailor-fashion, spoke
English fluently and correctly, without forgetting
their Gaelic, and were not content — O delighted
shade of MacWhamle !— with even a millhand's wage
for a day's work.

These young fellows, with frank, fearless eyes,

33^ SOME REMINISCENCES

that looked through and beyond you — with that
look begotten of long days and nights spent in " going
down into the sea in ships " — make their living in the
South during the summer months as yachtsmen,
and know every inch of the Clyde as well as, or
better than, their own native lochs.

We left Elgol, with regret, at 6 p.m. for Broad-
ford, with one and a half hours in which to do
fifteen miles. It was our intention, owing to the
roughness of the surface, and steepness of Loch
Slapin Hill, to throw ourselves upon the mercy of
the "keepers," and stop for the night at Strathaird
if darkness overtook us ; and something of this in-
tention was probably in my mind when I took a leaf
out of the " Unjust Steward's " book, and borrowing
" striped balls " from my daughter — what the Ameri-
cans call "suckers," gave to the children.

But although the first seven miles, owing to the hilly
nature of the road, took us just one hour to cover,
we did the last eight miles in half an hour, and,
tired but happy, ran into Mr Ross's hotel at Broad-
ford, two minutes before the dinner gong sounded,
having spent what turned out to be the most enjoy-
able day in our week's tour round Skye.

Broadford has well been called the Manchester of
Skye. The dwellers therein are proud of the title.
A Broadford lady once told me this, and I remem-
ber well how she stiffened and drew herself up to
the full height, and minced and affected her accent
as became a citizen of this "no mean city." She
spoke as if the Lowland title conferred some honour

AND THE BAGPIPE. 339

upon the little town and its inhabitants, and gave
them a superior standing over the rest of Skye.

Broadford has always had too free communication
with the South to be characteristically Highland, and
its ways and manners are largely those of the
Southron. I learned nothing in its streets that I
could not just as easily have learned in Falkirk. It
is too refined to flaunt its knowledge of Gaelic and
the Bagpipe in the face of the stranger.

It was, therefore, without any keen regrets that
we started on the following morning at ten o'clock
for Portree and Edinbane. Portree was only twenty-
six miles distant, and we arranged to lunch there
before going on to see our old friends at Edinbane ;
but alas for good intentions ! the wind went round
to the north, and blew so hard that we had practi-
cally to walk the twenty-six miles; lunched at 1.30
p.m. at Sligachan instead of at Portree, and only
arrived at the latter place at 5.20 in the evening.

Some distance out of Broadford, feeling out-of-
breath, and somewhat tired with the constant struggle
against the wind, we sat down to rest by the way-
side, near the delightful little village of Luib. Here,
sheltered by a soft, brown, turf dyke from the north
wind, and bathed in sunshine, we lay and dreamed,
watching from under half-closed lids, the fleecy
clouds chasing each other across the bright blue
sky, and listening to the moan of the waves in the
bay below as they leaped over each other in haste
to escape from the scourge of the bitter north wind.

Our quiet retreat was discovered before long by

340 SOME REMINISCENCES

the village children, who drew near boldly and fear-
lessly but in perfect silence. Having found out
long ago the secret of unloosing little tongues, we
soon learned all that was interesting about Luib ;
but most interesting of all to me was the news that
there was a piper in the village called Murdo M'Innie.

Leaving my daughter to look after the by cycles,
I made a bee-line over some very rough ground for
Murdo's house. It was a neat little thatched cottage,
but the walls I noticed were built solidly of stone
and lime, and more substantial looking altogether
than I was accustomed to see in the old days.

It was whitewashed outside and in, and looked
dazzlingly white in the bright sunshine. It had a
register grate in the room, which jarred upon me at
first as being out of place ; but thanks to the grate
there was in the house itself just that soup9on of peat
reek flavour which greets the visitor's fresh sense of
smell so gratefully on a first visit to the High-
lands.

The whole place was as neat and tidy as a new
pin. Why was MacWhamle the discontented not here
to see how goodly and pleasant the Skye crofters'
lot can be?

The door stood open, but I chose to knock.
^^ Hic-i-stoi" flashed out the quick response. I en-
tered without more ado, and there stood Murdo —
frank of face and frank of manner, beaming a
welcome upon the stranger.

" I have just heard that you are a piper," I said to
him after the usual greetings had passed between us.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 34I

"Oh! no indeed, sir," answered Murdo, "I'm not
much of a piper."

"But I hear you can play a bit," I replied, "and
I've come for a tune ! "

" It's not much of a player I ever was," said he,
"and it's a long time since I played, and you can't
have a tune whatever, for my bag- is burst."

The bag of his Pipe is what Murdo refers to here.

I liked Murdo for his bashfulness, a most un-
common failing in a piper, as I have observed more
than once. "But," I said, "I have a set of Pipes
here," pointing to the little bundle in waterproof
under my arm — at which Murdo smiled a little
doubtfully.

So did the boatmen at Elgol when I offered them a
pibroch instead of the bottle of whisky which they
asked to have thrown into the bargain, and — worse
luck for them — accepted my offer, not believing that
I could give them a tune.

I soon had the Pipe together, and after I had
tuned the drones, I handed it to Murdo. He had
barely taken a turn once up and down the room,
before an old woman ran in at the door, and hold-
ing up her hands in astonishment, exclaimed in
Gaelic, "Gracious goodness, what's up with you,
Murdo ! " then seeing me for the first time, said
nothing more, but incontinently fled. The old
woman was followed by a bright-eyed laughing girl,
who did exactly the same. Using the very form of
speech of the old woman, she gave vent to an ex-
clamation of astonishment, " Yeeally Graishy^* and

342 SOME REMINISCENCES

ran away with the sentence unfinished, on catching
sight of the stranger. Then, as the music rose and
fell in that little room, lad after lad dropped in, till the
house could hold no more. These lads needed no
invitation — the door stood open, wasn't that enough !
they spoke no word, but sat and listened in quiet
wonder to the piper. In the meantime I had sent for
my daughter, who was received in silence and shewn
to a seat in the window by one of the young men,
who politely made way for her. When Murdo, who
played with great spirit, and no little touch of good
fingering, had blown his cheeks into a state of
paralysis — largely from want of practice — he had to
stop. I then — as a farewell — played "M'Leod of
M'Leod's Lament," an old tune written in 1626.
What possessed me to play so sad a tune I do not
know. I had not well begun when an old man
came quietly in at the door just as the others had
done. I nodded to him and went on playing, but
I noticed that he alone went up to my daughter and
shook hands with her in a grave and dignified
fashion, then turned suddenly away, and going
quickly to the back of the press door, where he was
out of sight of the others, he wiped his face with a
towel that hung there. Coming in fresh from the
field, this seemed a natural enough thing to do on
the part of the old man, and I thought nothing
more of the matter.

After a smoke and a few words of praise to Murdo
for his piping, and of encouragement to him to
follow it up, and never again to let the bag rot, I

AND THE BAGPIPE. 343

said good-bye, and came away. But Murdo "would
see me across the moor to the road. My daughter
walked a little in front, and did not hear what Murdo
said as he gave me his history in pocket edition.

"The old man who came in last is my father,"
said Murdo. " We live by ourselves. My mother
is dead, and my only sister died three years ago.
And since then the Pipe has been silent in the
house, and that's how the bag is in holes. You
broke the silence of three years to-day."

" I'm sorry, Murdo," I said, " if I have awakened
painful memories unwittingly, but three years is a
long time to mourn for the dead, with life so short.
I think you should have looked sooner to the " Pipes "
for comfort, after the manner of your forefathers ;
and I will see to it that you get a new bag if you
will promise me to continue the piping so well
begun to-day."

To which Murdo replied simply, "I promise that."

As we rode along the side of the Loch, my
daughter said to me " Father ! who was the old
man who came in last, and why did he cry when
he shook hands with me?"

He was really weeping then, when he went behind
the door !

The sound of the Pipe in the house after so
long a silence had overcome him — flooding his brain
with half-forgotten memories, and his heart with
tears.

Five minutes before she spoke, I would have
answered her question readily enough, with " Wh)'

344 SOME REMINISCENCES

of course, it was the * M'Leod of M'Leod's Lament,'
played with the proper feehng, that affected him."
But now, I told her Murdo's story instead, and
for some time after, we rode along the shore in
silence.

This day's journey, although short, was the only
toilsome one in our tour, and we crawled rather
than rode up to the Portree hotel ; but after a most
delightful high tea, in which freshly caught herring
and freshly laid eggs with ham piping hot, figured
largely, we started off as fresh as ever for Edinbane,
fourteen miles to the north-west.

The way — every stone of which I knew — was
beguiled by stories of the various driving accidents
which befel me in the old days, and a short hour
and a half brought us to the hospital, just a little
after dark, where we were kindly entertained for the
night by Dr. and Mrs Sandstein, and where my
daughter had the pleasure of sleeping in the room
where she first saw the light.

At Edinbane, as indeed all along the road, I
noticed a great improvement in the crofters' houses ;
the rudely-thatched, badly-built, dry stone house of
my day, having given place to neat cottages, built
of stone and lime, with large windows and properly
built chimneys, and all nicely slated.

The Crofters Act is surely doing good.

A few of my old friends who heard of our arrival
came to see us off in the morning, and their
enthusiasm was delightfully refreshing. They, one
and all, expressed surprise at Nelly's having grown

AND THE BAGPIPE. 345

SO much. Said John M'Kinnon, "the Marchand,"
to her, "And you are little Nelly! Well! well!
And do you remember how you used to call to me
in Gaelic from the nursery window in the morning,
and say, ' Iain JMach Kinnie, I am your sweetheart.'
Well ! well ! who would think that little Nelly
would grow such a big leddy."

Alas ! " the Marchand," who was ill at ease and
depressed that day over a telegram Avhich he had
just received, saying that his son was coming home
from Calcutta ill, heard next morning before we left
of his boy's death, which took place on board ship
when one day out at sea.

John M'Farlane also, was very amusing about Nelly.
He swore he could tell her anywhere by her
likeness to her mother. " And when you left here,
you were just the size of that "- -pointing half-way
to the ground — "and now you are a great big
leddy, taller than your mother " — which was quite
true — " but not so plump," which — publish it not
in Gath, whisper it not in the streets of Askelon —
was also quite true.

John, like the rest of our kind Skye friends, was
forgetting that "little Nelly" had been away from
her island home for over eighteen 3'ears, but their
warm remembrances were very welcome to us, and
after all, it was really " little Nelly " that they knew.

Next day we rode to Dunvegan about mid-day,
and lunched there. While I was playing " Lord
Lovat's Lament" in the churchyard, round the tomb
of Thomas Fraser of Beaufort, who was father to

346 SOME REMINISCENCES

the famous Simon, Lord Lovat, of the ** Forty-five,"
Dr. Sandstein, who was to drive me over to Bore-
raig, the farm which the MacCrimmons held for
so many years, arrived at the hotel, and went off
without me, believing that I had gone on by myself.
As it was now raining heavily, we thought it better
not to attempt Boreraig, and so made straight for
Struan, where we spent the night. Next day, although
it was Sunday, taking advantage of beautiful weather,
we cycled to Kyle Akin, a distance of 60 or 70 miles.
At Struan, we got up a dance in the kitchen of the
inn, at which several young men from the hills
joined. One of these, a splendidly built fellow, and
handsome looking, was an excellent dancer, and also
played very well upon the " Pipes." The Bagpipe
was also very much in evidence at Kyle Akin during
the remainder of our stay, where we had nightly
dances in which visitors and servants joined heartily.

I had a call on the morning after my return, from
one of the natives called John McRa. Hearing that
I was interested in the Bagpipe, he said that he
would like to show me some relics which he had in
his possession. He had, among other things, an
old chanter belonging to his grandfather, Donald
McRa, and a silver medal won in 1835.

This same Donald had won the championship in
1 791, and in 1835 when over eighty years of age,
the old man again went south to compete for
supremacy. But although he did not win the gold
medal, he was awarded a special silver medal for
his pluck as well as for his skill.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 347

This same Donald McRa married a Fraser, and
had two sons, John and Sandy, who were both
pipers in the 71st. John afterwards became piper to
Charles Sobieskie Stuart Wells, whose remains lie
buried in the Fraser country.

Donald was a teacher of Bagpipe music, and one
of his pupils was the famous player, M^Kae f Pa fan-
heg-vounderledi ), piper to the Earl of Seaforth.

The grandson took me to his house, a neat, well-
furnished cottage, where he unfolded to me his
treasures.

He also told me stories of Angus Mackay, and of
the MacCrimmons, and of many a piper long since
forgotten.

One of the last of the famous MacCrimmons, ac-
cording to John, died in the old Fort of Glenelg,
after the American War. Another MacCrimmon,
named Bruce, went as piper to Louis Philippe,
after the battle of Waterloo. John rambled on in
this way of old-world affairs for quite an hour, and
I came away quite delighted with himself, and his
house, and his treasures.

My impressions formed during this short visit to
Skye, point to the conclusion that the Bagpipe is
once more coming to the front in its old home, and
that one day ere long a new race of MacCrimmons
may arise to delight future generations with their
skill.

CHAPTER XXXir.

THE CHORUS.

A GREAT deal of idle discussion has centred
round the musical instrument called by early-
English writers, the "chorus."

What is a chorus?

The old Greek scholar would have answered this
question by saying, "The chorus is an organised
band of dancers and singers."

The ninth century Anglo-Saxon scribe would just
as readily have answered, "The chorus is a musical
instrument used by the Britons, and called by them,
Pioh-mala or Bagpipe."

While the twentieth century musician would tell
us that, " The chorus is a body of singers, singing
in concert."

Now each of these three answers, although differ-
ing the one from the other, would be correct, and
in refusing to recognise this shaded meaning, a good
deal ot confusion and misrepresentation has been
introduced into the discussion by writers in the past.

It is the old story of a word which has acquired
different, and apparently contradictory meanings, at

AND THE BAGPIPE. 349

various stages in its march down the centuries.
And so, when one authority tells us that it means
" M/'>r," and another equally learned authority tells
us that it means ^^ that,'' both may be right, or both
may be wrong — it all depends on a date.

The story of the word *' chorus" is, in fact, the
story of the Greek word, '■'• sumphonia,'''' over again.
Curiously enough, too, both words at an early stage
of their history were closely connected. From the
chorus came the symphony. And both words, after
many centuries of divergence, came to mean the
same thing — a musical instrument — the Bagpipe.

" Chorus," however, no longer means Bagpipe,
and has gone through a greater number of trans-
formations than '^ sumphonia" which is still the
name in Southern Italy and Greece for the Pipe.

" Chorus " meant originally a dance, to the
accompaniment of singing. Next, a body of singers
without the dance. Then a dance, danced to in-
strumental music: after many centuries, a Bagpipe ;
and now — back to a former meaning — a band of
singers.

The two words, ^^ siimphonia'' and "chorus," are
almost interchangeable indeed, and were so often
used together — ^^ Aiidivit suviphonicum et choru?n"
said the Master — that to name the one was to
suggest the other; and in history, "chorus" might
w^ell come to mean the Bagpipe. The dance that
was danced to the Bagpipe, became the Bagpipe
Dance, and after a time, the Bagpipe itself. I
know that the word has been derived from the Latin

350 SOME REMINISCENCES

for skin^ of which the bag was made, but I prefer
the origin suggested here.

We hav'e fortunately more than one description
of the British Chorus on record, and these shew
conclusively that it was not a dance nor a crowd of
singers, but that it was a imnd instrument^ consisting
of two reeds inserted into a bag made from the skin
of a goat, doe, gazelle, or other animal. The reed
inserted into the neck, we are told, was the blow-
pipe, the second reed was the chanter, and was
generally fixed into the mouth of the beast, the head
having been left attached to the skin for this purpose.

In an old drawing in the British Museum, a copy
of which I have seen, the bag is made out of an
entire pig's skin, and the chanter comes away from
the pig's mouth.

From another old drawing we also learn that the
bag of the "chorus" stuck out in front of the
player, and was squeezed by both arms against the
breast. All the older forms of Bagpipe, indeed,
were held by the players with the bag in front, and
not under the arm like the present Highland Bag-
pipe.

The idea of the Pig-Bagpiper, which is so often to
be seen in old pictures, and on sculptured stones,
as at Melrose Abbey, has probably been taken from
a ** chorus" of this kind — the dead pig played upon,
suggesting to the sculptor, a living pig piping.
When " fooling" however, minstrels often assumed
strange garbs, dressing themselves as apes, bears,
pigs, etc. Nothing, indeed, was too grotesque, in

AND THE BAGPIPE. 35I

pipe or in dress, or in speech, for the old piper,
who, like his neighbours, acted the clown or the
mummer on occasion.

This "chorus," so often mentioned in English
records, was also a Scottish instrument — one of three —
which Giraldus Cambrensis (b. 11 18) found in general
use among the Scots at the time of his visit. It was
also the instrument with which King James whiled
away the lagging hours on the night of his assas-
sination.

If we can prove then, that this British instrument
of the ninth century was a Bagpipe, its " introduction "
into Scotland must have taken place several centuries
earlier than the earliest date yet fixed upon by the
modern antiquarian.

It will take more than dogmatic assertion, or an
antiquarian's reputation, to explain away the follow-
ing facts, w^hich, to my mind at least, prove con-
clusively that the Saxon " chorus " was no other
than the British Bagpipe, known as the Piob-mala.

And now for the proof.

In a Latin "Commentary on the Scriptures,"
written in the ninth century, the "chorus" is de-
scribed as a musical instrument consisting of "a
single skin, with two pipes — a single-reed Bagpipe
— the description is perfectly clear, and fits no other
instrument of ancient or modern times.

In a second "Commentary on the Bible," written
about 1320, the writer is arguing on this very point,
and he says that the word "chorus" in Psalm cli.,
verse 4 (Psalm cl., verse 4 in the modern edition)

352 SOME REMINISCENCES

— means a concert of singers, and "-not a Bagpipe."
The words in italics clearly shew that there was a
Bagpipe known to this writer, and to others in his
day by the name of "chorus." The denial also
shews that some previous translator had read the
word "Bagpipe" into the psalm — a translation
from which our writer very wisely differs.

Now, when one reads the psalm carefully, it really
looks as if the Psalmist, when he used the word
"chorus," had meant a musical instrument. It is
of instruments that he is speaking. " Praise Him
with the sound of the trumpet; praise Him with the
psaltery and harp ; praise Him with the timbrel and
chorus; praise Him with stringed instruments and
organs; praise Him upon the high-sounding cymbals."
The French seem to have recognised this, and have
translated the w^ord as "flute," while we have turned
the same word into " dance."

I do not myself however, for a single moment
believe that the "chorus" of David, the Psalmist,
was a Bagpipe, although the word meant a Bagpipe
in the ninth century. This would be as illogical as
to assert, with some, that "chorus" never meant
Bagpipe, because it now means a choir of singers.

That there may be no mistake, however, about
the fact that the word, "chorus" meant a Bagpipe
at one time, I will give you the learned com-
mentator's own words, literally translated : —

"Some say," he writes, "that 'chorus' is an in-
strument made from a skin ; and has two reeds, one
through which it is inflated, and the other through

AND THE BAGPIPE. 353

which the sound (music) is emitted, and is called in
Gallice, chevrette.''

Now there is no ambiguity about the above descrip-
tion of the *' chorus": it can mean only one thing:
but it proves also that the "chorus" of the early
fourteenth century, was one and the same instrument
as the " chorus " of the ninth century : an instrument
composed of a skin (or bag) with two pipes : that
it was, in short, a Bagpipe.

The further fact that it was called by the Gaelic
peoples '* chevrette " also strengthens the proof.
Because the word ^^ chevrette"" comes from chevfe, a
she-goat, or from chevrette, a doe, the skin of both
these animals being most commonly used for the
bag. Now Chevretter — the name given to the man
who played upon the " chevrette,^'' was a common
name for Bagpiper in the fourteenth century.

In the reign of Edward II., for example, the
Exchequer Rolls shew a payment to " Jauno Chev-
retter,'^ or to John the Bagpiper.

This last is another link in a chain of evidence
which is, to my mind, complete, and which leaves
no doubt that the instrument called "chorus" was
a Bagpipe.

It was a droneless Bagpipe, and very primitive :
the more advanced Pipe was known as the "Drone
Bagpipe," or simply " the Drone."

I do not deny that this term ^' drone" may at

times have meant a Bagpipe without a chanter : the

melody made by perforations, or vent holes in the

drone itself, as we have it in the Italian " Zampogna "

354 SOME REMINISCENCES

of to-day — of this I am not quite sure. But from
ancient drawings, we learn that it generally meant
an ordinary one-drone Bagpipe. Take the two
following as examples out of many, from a period,
when drawings and cuts tell us that the Pipe was
a one-drone Pipe.

"■ Forming part of King James's household were
Jame Wedderspune Fithelar, and Jame that plays
on the droned In 1505, there is also mention made
in the Exchequer Rolls of a payment to the " Inglis
piper with the Drone."

If further proof is wanted of the fact that the "chorus"
was a Bagpipe, you can get it from the pages of
Dauney, where there is an argument, which proves
that Choraules, or players on the "chorus," and
PythauleSy or players on the Pythaulos and Utri-
cularii, or players on the Roman Pipe, always
mean Bagpipers.

Ten years ago, I wrote to a friend in Newcastle,
to see if he could buy or borrow for me, an African
Bagpipe which had been exhibited at a meeting of
some learned society — I forget what — by Dr. Bruce,
the great antiquarian of Newcastle.

I got back a letter, with some notes on the Bag-
pipe taken at the meeting. The Pipe itself had
gone amissing, to my great disappointment.

The letter said : —

"May 31, 1895.

" I only got your letter yesterday, and have had to
rummage my MSS. to find the information you ask. I
perfectly remember the Bagpipes (sic) which Alderman

AND THE BAGPIPE. 355

W. H. Richardson of Jarrow gave to Dr. Bruce. I
made a full examination of them at the time, and enclose
you a copy of the notes I took.

"1 do not know what became of them. The last time
I saw them was at Backworth, at a Pipe contest, after
which we supped at Mr Forster's, where the Doctor and
I both tried to play them, but were unsuccessful in
getting notes fit to hear, and they had an abominable
smell. — Yours sincerely,

J. S."

The Pipe contest here referred to, was for players
on the ** Northumberland Sma' Pipes" : a competition
which Dr. Bruce initiated, and which was carried
on for several years with considerable success, but
which is now — I fear — defunct.

Whether the supper at Mr Forster's, or the
"abominable smell," had to do with the dis-
appearance of the "Pipe" on this famous occasion,
I cannot tell, but it has not been heard of since.

I hunted Newcastle everywhere for the Pipe on
three or four separate occasions, but was always
unsuccessful in my search.

The notes kindly sent me I give below : —

"AFRICAN BAGPIPES,"

" Alderman W. H. Richardson, of Springwell Paper
Mills, Jarrow, presented to Dr. Bruce a set of African
Bagpipes which he had purchased from a band of
itinerant negro musicians when on a journey about Oran,
in Africa, for esparto grass,

" I had the opportunity of examining and trying
them, and found that the bag was made of the skin of
a doe gazelle, which had been cured with castor oil, and
had a most rancid smell. The tail hole and the skin of

356 SOME REMINISCENCES

the hind leg's had been turned inside and fastened up,
the two udders left untouched. A small part of the
skin of the fore legs had been left, and the ends closed
by affixing the extremities of the gazelle's horns therein,
between which was an aperture for the blow-pipe, the
latter made from the thigh bone of a flamingo. The end
of the neck was closed by a wooden patrass with two
holes, into which was inserted two reeds, each about
five inches long, with four holes each.

"The reeds played in unison, and as near as could be
were F, G, A, or Bb and C of our scale. The ends of
the reeds had portions of a gazelle horn for the bell,
and were ornamented with beads, small coins, brass
chain, a shirt button, and a small leather case, empty
then, but supposed to have held a charm, which would
be probably a verse of the ' Koran.'"

Four weeks ago, while working up the subject of
this chapter, I was fortunate enough to acquire two
sets of African or Egyptian Bagpipes. The larger
of the two faces this page, and you can compare
it with the clear description given above of the lost
Newcastle set.

At the same time the notes might well stand for
a word-picture of the old British " chorus," the in-
strument which we have just discussed, and which
history tells us was in common use in the early
centuries throughout Great Britain.

In some parts of Africa the negro plays his
Bagpipe in a peculiar fashion. He plays it while
lying full length on the ground, with the bag under
his stomach.

He utilises the weight of his body to force the
wind through the chanter. This leaves both hands

African or Egyptian Bagpipe :

The bag^ made from the entire skin of some small animal ; consisting of a
blow-pipe and double bell-mouthed chanter. It is decorated with two rows of
coloured beads.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 357

free to manipulate the reeds, and in this he has an
advantage over the old piper of the "chorus,"
whose hands must have been much hampered by
the bag, which stuck out in front.

Captain Dalrymple Hay — now, I hope, Major, or
Colonel Hay — who, at one time, was Adjutant to
the 4th V.B. Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders,
once promised to get me a set of African Bagpipes.
He learned that the Africans had a Pipe, when out
in the bush on a six weeks' shooting expedition with
a friend.

One hot, sultry evening, the two friends were
seated, one on each side of their tent, tired of each
other's company for the time being.

Suddenly both got up, and made a simultaneous
rush for the bush.

This display of energy was called forth by the
sound of the Bagpipe in the distance.

Surely there must be some Scotsman at hand ;
and the sight of a new face, and the sound of a
new voice, was yearned for at that moment by the
two friends.

But alas ! when they got to a small clearing in
the midst of the forest, from whence proceeded the
welcome sounds, there was nothing but, as the
Captain put it, "A dirty nigger lying on his belly
on a dirty pigskin, and grinding forth unintelligible
noises, not unlike the real thing at a distance."

" If I had known you collected Bagpipes," he
added, " I would have secured that one for you.
But I am going back to Africa in a year or two,

358 SOME REMINISCENCES

and I will get you a set, although I have to shoot
the nigger."

To which I have only to add, that neither of the
sets in my possession has come from the gallant
Captain.

This chapter was written early in 1905, and I
believed that the subject, so far as I was concerned,
was finished ; but in the autumn of 1906 I was
called suddenly to Ireland, and picked up some
fresh information there.

Mr Kennedy, of Baronrath, Straffan, near Dublin,
at whose house I stayed for a few days, on learning
that I was interested in the Irish Bagpipe, kindly
shewed me an article on Irish music and musical
instruments — an eighteenth century article, written
by one Ed. Ledwick, LL.D., author of a volu-
minous work (which quickly went through two
editions) called "The Antiquities of Ireland."

This article is interesting, and is worth quoting
from if only for its clear description of the Irish
Pipe. But it is also strongly confirmatory of the
above views on the "chorus," and it is the work of
a scholar.

The learned Doctor opens up in no unhesitating
fashion, thus : —

"The Piob-mala or Bagpipes, the 'chorus' of the
Latin writers of the Middle Ages, do not appear of great
antiquity in this island.

" Cambrensis does not mention them among the Irish
musical instruments ; though he asserts that both the
Welsh and Scots had them.

" The ' chorus,' so denominated by the Latins from

AND THE BAGPIPE. 359

having the hag- of skin, seems to be a very ancient
instrument. It was probably introduced into Britain by
the Romans, and among; the Saxons by the Britons. In
England it retained its original form and power to the
eleventh or twelfth centuries. In subsequent ages it re-
ceived several improvements, a ' chorus ' was added, con-
sisting of two side drones, in which state it still remains
among the Highland Scots, and in this state it probably was
introduced into Ireland, some time prior to the fourteenth
century ; for we find it is a martial musical instrument of
the Irish kerns, or infantry in the reign of Edward III.,
and as such continued down to the sixteenth century.
Having obtained this instrument from Britain, the Irish
retained iis origijial name, and called it Piob-?nala, or Bag-
pipe. It had the loud, shrill tone of the present Highland
Pipes, being constructed on the ancient musical scale.

"The chanter had seven ventages as at present. The
lower sounded the lower D in the treble, and the upper C,
The first drone was in unison to E, the second hole in the
chanter, and the large drone an octave below it. This
seems to have been the state of the Bagpipes throughout
the British Islands to the close of the sixteenth century,
when considerable improvements were made, by taking the
pipe from the mouth and causing the bag to be filled by a
small pair of bellows on compression by the elbow. This
form, Mr Walker (Hist. Mem. of the Irish Bards), asserts
they received from the Irish, by whom they were no longer
denominated Piob-mala, but Cnislean or Cuisleagh-Cuil,
i.e., the Elbow Pipes, or Elbow Music. Under this de-
nomination they still remain among the people, and are at
present Tuuch improved, having no longer the loud martial
sound of the Erse Piob-mala, but more resembling a flute,
and are reduced to the modern scale. . . Their com-
ponent parts in the Irish language are the Bolg or Bag ;
the Bollogna Cuisli or Bellows ; the Feadain or Pipes ; and
the Anan or Drones, so denominated from their resemblance
to horns, whence anan sometimes in Irish signifies the
Base in music.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE GREAT HIGHLAND BAGPIPE.
"Don't be afraid, I am not about to antiquarianize. " — Sala.

tt-VTORTH-WEST of a line from Greenock, by

-'-^ Perth, to Inverness, is the land of the Gael
— of the semi-barbarous instrument, the Bagpipe ;
of wild piobrach tunes or rude melodies, very litde
known, and still less admired."

These words of wisdom were penned over two
hundred years ago by an English traveller who
had visited Scotland. And exactly one hundred
years later, a fellow-countryman of his laments over
Scotland's "barbarous music." "The Bagpipe,"
he says, "is a sorry instrument, capable of little
more than making an intolerable noise."

The "semi-barbarous," incapable Pipe here men-
tioned, is the Highland instrument of which I am
about to write.

The Piob-mhor, or Great Highland Bagpipe has
indeed, always had its detractors, as well as its ad-
mirers, and a kind of desultory warfare over its value
as a musical instrument has been waged between

Old Bill of 1785 :

Orig^inal given to the Author hy Mr Gt.EN. Bank Street, Edinburgh.
It is interesting as shewing what were the favourite tunes with the old pipers

JN Or.VA'v l.SSEMJiLY ROOM.

ANCIENT M A R T I A L MUSIC.

PLAN of the COMPETITION for PRIZES

TO BEST PERKORMERS ON THE

GKEAT HIGHLAND PIPE.

To begin at Eleven o'CIock forenoon, of TUESDAY, 30th Auguft, 178.5.

CandtdaUM lumu and Country. \

a. Cean Drochaid Beg,

I. Faittc a' Pbrionfai'.
]. F&ilie SKir Sheunuis,

3. Cumhadh Mhic an Leathain,

4. Failte a' Phrionfai',
S- Thetime,

6. Glaif-mheur,

7. Moladh Mbani't

8. Faille a' Phrionfai',

9. The fame,
10. Comhadb Mhic Chruimean,

ACT I.
Siyjlifh Tran/latioit.
I. A Salute by Profeffor M'ARTHUR.
/ ffea4f of the Lil/le Bridge, <<r Ifu^ To be played by John M 'Gregor. fen., from Fortingall, who
\ CamervH't Gathtring, \_ won the firft Prize at Edinburgh last year.

. A Piece by Peter M^Jregor, who won the firft Priie at Falkttk Competition.

ACT II.

TiuArrmtlorlVtltO'iit—kSaiai^ John Cumming, Piper to Sir James Grant of Grant, Bart.
_. ^ ,^„ ij> ti' I (Robert M'Iniyre. Piper to John M'Donald, Efq., of Clanro-

Tht_M*Lean'i Lanunf, John Cumming,

Robert M'lntyre

Alexander Lamont,Piper to John I^mont, Efq. of LamonL

A/avokrite Pita, Coiin M'Nab, Piper to Francis M-Nab, Efq. of M-Nab.

(A Pie«in praife of Mary, or the) ., , , ^„„„,

\ I 1 /tM\T LI I tJ i. i' Alexander Ijmont.
\ Laird 0/ J>rLaehJaH s March, \

Cohn M'Nab.

Donald Gun, Piper to Sir John Clark of Pcnnycuick, Bart

{T/u Lamentation of Patrick More > ,, ,, .,,, . , , „ ,

,,,-- . ■' /■ Donald M'lntyre, fen, of Rannach,

A HIGHLAND DANCE after Act 11,

tt. The Grants March,
I %. Faille a' Phrionfai',
ij. The fame,

14. Piobrachd Ereanach,

15. Failte Shir Dheorfa,
16 Failte a' Phrionfai',

IJ. Teachd am Phrionfai' gu Mui-
deard,

18. Failte a' Phrionfai',

19. The fame,
to. Glaif-mhfur,

ACT in,

Donald Gun,
Donald M'lntyre, fen.
] Dougald M'Dougnl. Piper to Allan M'Dougal, Efq. of Hay-
\ field.
. t ' 1 m 1 1 John M'Pherfon from Badenoch, Piper toColonel Duncan,

A, In,h l\ir<ul,. \' .MTherfonofCluny

In Praist of the Laird of CaUandar, Dougald M'Dougal.
John Pherfon

\The Landing in Moydart, Hugh M'C.regor, from the ftewartry of Monlcath.

MalcolniNM'Phcrfon from Breadalbane.
Hugh M'Gngor
Malcolm M'PhcrTon,
A HIGHLAND DANCE after Act III.

ACT IV.

ai. LeannanDhooBilChruaimeich

t» Failte a' Phnon£ai,

ay The fame,

■4. Leannan Ghioll Chruaimeich,

35. Failte a' Phrionfai',

a6. Cean Drochaid Mhoir.

37. Shiflealach Strath Ghtais,

aB. Failte a' PhronEai',

a^. Piobrachd Sliabh an t Siora',

30. Faille a' Pbiionfai',

Donald's Love,

The Stem Laett Swuthtart,

Great Bridge,
Chifhotm'l Mareh,

SiMrriffmuir, a Pibrath

f Donald FilTier from Breadalbane, who won the fecondpnze
\ lift year.

Archibald M'Gngor from FortingaL

Donald Fifher.

Archibald Macgregor.

Aleiander M'Gngor, from Fortingal.

John M'Grigor from Glenlyon'

Alexander M'Gngor.

John M'Grigor.

(John M'Grigor jun. a boy of twelve years of age, fon to the
above John M'Grigor from Fortingal, who won the
Prite laft year.
Donald M'Lean of Edinburgh,

A HIGHLAND DANCE after Act IV.

ji. Failte, a' Phrionfai,

3>. Cumhadh Eoin Ghaitbh,

jj. Siubhal Mhic Allain.

J4. PiobrachdMhicDhonailDhuibh

35. Failte a' Phnonfai',

36. The fame,

37. Siubhal Mhic Allain

38. Faille a' Phrionfai',

39. The fame,

40. Cumhadh an Aoin Mhic,

41. Glaif-mheur,

4], Faille a' Phnonfai'

43- The fame,

44. Cean Drochaid Mhoir,

4$ Sliabh an t Siora',

46- Failte a' Phrionfai',

4}. The Came,

48. Moladh Mbarat',

Lamentation of Rough yohn,
Cianramai^t March,

Camtrcm't Galheringt
Clanraneiift Marth,

Lantemtation for an only Sort,

Headoftht Great Bridge -a Pibrach,
Shirriffmuir,

In Praise of Mary,

The boy John M'Grigor.

Donald M'Lean
/ Donald M'lntjrc jun. from the cftatc of Sir Robert Meruies
\ of that Ilk. in Rannach, Perlhfliirc.
(Paul M'Innesfrom Lochabar, P^>erioJuhn Cameron, Efq;
( of Callart.

Donald M'lntyre jun,

Paul M'Innes.

Allan M'Iniyre of Edinburgh,
JJohn M'Pherfon jfrom Strathfpey, late Piper to the AthoU
{ Highlanders.

Allan M'lntyre

John M'Pherfon,

l)uncan Steuan from Ranrutch.

John Dewar from the eflaic of Sir Robert MeniteS.

Duncan StcuarL

John Dewar.

Ronald M'Donald, from Cullodcn.

Roben M'Dougal from Fortingal, Perthfliire.

Ronald M'Donald.

Robert M'Dougal.

A HIGHLAND DANCE after Act V.

The whole to conclude with a Piece by Profeffor M'ARTHUR

AND THE BAGPIPE. .;6l

o"-

those two for more than a hundred years. To this
perennial source of strife, there has been added in
recent years other knotty points which have formed
the subject of keen debate — such as the origin of the
Pipe, the date of its introduction into the Highlands,
its influence — if any — upon the music and folk-song
of the country. Within the last dozen years or so,
its Celtic character has been traduced, and doubts of
its genuineness as a Highland instrument have been
sown broadcast over the land by Highlanders them-
selves.

This is not as it should be. Genuine Highland
relics of the olden days are getting rare, and should
be carefully hoarded up — not thoughtlessly discarded,
as it has been too much the fashion of late to do.

It was not until the middle of the eighteenth
century that such doubts arose. Until then, the
Bagpipe, although mentioned by several writers, was
always spoken of as it it were indigenous to the
country. There are authentic references to it — if
not in the first century — in the twelfth, fourteenth,
fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, and
we get no hint anywhere from these that the Pipe
was not Highland — that it was a modern introduction
from England or the Continent. Giraldus Cambrensis
(b. 1118) simply mentions it as in his day a well-
known Scottish instrument. M'Vurich the Bard, in
his satire (written in the fifteenth century) upon the
Highland Pipe, would have scored more heavily than
he has done if he had had the slightest suspicion that it
was an English instrument which he was girding at.

362 SOME REMINISCENCES

It has been reserved for the modern critic —
drawing largely upon his own imagination I sus-
pect— to discover the foreign extraction of the
Highland Bagpipe. And if we are to believe the
teaching of what, for convenience sake. I call here
the " Inverness School," it is worse than foolish-
ness any longer to hold the hitherto cherished belief,
that the Bagpipe is an ancient Highland instrument,
or that it was ever dear to the old Highlander's
heart. We are told, in short, by the learned authority
of the North, that the Bagpipe was not known in the
Highlands until the sixteenth century, and that, with
the exception of the large drone, it is an English
instrument pure and simple.

The kilt, as an ancient Highland dress, has long
been discounted by the same authority, but I feel
sure that many people, not Highland, would miss
both kilt and Bagpipe, if they were allowed to die
out. And yet, if, as Mr M'Bain of Inverness says,
they be not relics of a past age, then are they value-
less, and the founding of Highland Societies at
home and abroad for the study and preservation
of these hitherto supposed old Highland character-
istics is a piece of worthless sentimentality, and the
exclusive use of the " Pipes" as a military weapon
by Highland regiments is little better than a pious
fraud. Nor does the third, and in some respects,
the most important characteristic of the Highlander
in days gone by, fare much better in the North.

Do away with its originality, and you do away
with the high antiquity of the Gaelic tongue.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 363

This is exactly what is being attempted to-day,
with perverse ingenuity, by a few Gaelic scholars.
In a recent Gaelic dictionary, for example, published
in Inverness, the author goes out of his way to
trace the Celtic root-word Piob^ to the Latin Piva^
while the latest scholarship in the South tells us,
on the contrary, that this is certainly not the case, and
that Piva is most probably derived from the Celtic
word, Pioh.

On every possible occasion, Gaelic words are
thus being traced to other languages, but never
other languages to the Gaelic, if it can be avoided.

For my own part, I should prefer, with Dr.
Johnson, to look upon the language of my ancestors
as " a rude and barbarous tongue," but old; rather
than think it a modern thing of shreds and patches,
culled from other languages — a poor conglomeration
of Latin, Greek, and French.

Of outside modern criticism on these matters, we
have abundance and to spare, but such is generally
vitiated by a total want of acquaintance with the
subject; and it seems to me, that if we had the real
opinions of the old Highlander on these things,
which we are now told are but recent introductions,
this would be of much greater value in helping us to
arrive at a correct decision.

" By their fruits ye shall know them," was written
of old, and it is not by the spoken word, but by
the accomplished deed, that we can get a glimpse
into the heart of the old Highlander, and learn
there something of his true thoughts and feelings

364 SOME REMINISCENCES

upon the subject of his music, his language, and
his dress.

It is a happy chance for those who, like myself,
believe in the antiquity of the Highland Bagpipe and
dress, that "the deeds of old" have been occasionally
recorded, as in these we find reasons for "the faith
that is in us."

When the old Highlander stood on the field of
battle, sword in hand, the shyness that clogged his
tongue at other times disappeared, and his manhood
boldly asserted itself. Proud of his chief, proud of
his clan, proud of his country, proud of the old
speech and dress, but, above all, proud of the War
Pipe whose martial strains had so often roused his
ancestors to battle, he no longer hid his passion
for these things behind a cloud of words, but
blazoned it forth in the face of the world. This is
no exaggeration, as the following tale — which "is a
true one, and no lye " — proves : —

The good old town of Falkirk was early astir one
fine morning in the second week of April, 1779.
The people in the streets were all agog with excite-
ment. A rumour had arrived the night before that
a large body of Highlanders had broken out into
open rebellion at Stirling Castle ; that they had been
overpowered and disarmed after a terrific struggle
and much bloodshed, and that they were to be sent
under armed escort to Edinburgh for trial, on the
following morning. But when the Highlanders
appeared, the Falkirk "bairns" were grievously
disappointed.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 365

These men were not prisoners ; they had not
mutinied. As they marched along, their proud bear-
ing told its own tale.

They were armed to the teeth.

Pipers played at their head.

They had no escort.

Dressed in kilts of brown, crotal-dyed ; averaging
5 ft. 7A ins. in height, hard, bronzed, and wiry-look-
ing, with muscles taut as steel, the two companies
made a sight worth looking at, as they swung
gaily up the Tanner's Brae, and past the West
Port, with heads erect, and with that quick
springy step born only of many years spent among
the mountains.

Falkirk had seen no such sight since Prince
Charlie and his men had overrun her High Street
thirty years before.

But although rumour on this occasion had proved
a lying jade, there was some excuse for it. Jacobite
emissaries had got at the ears of the simple High-
landers in Stirling, and had whispered that the
Government was playing false with them ; that in
spite of their having enlisted only for foreign
service with Highland regiments, they were to be
kept at home, and drafted into Lowland regiments,
where they would be forced to march to strange
music, and speak English, and wear trousers; to all
of which the Highlanders answered grimly, "We
shall see," but refused to take any action in the
matter, trusting to the assurances given by Captain
Innes, the officer in charge.

366 SOME REMINISCENCES

On their arrival at Leith however, the men were
told very abruptly that they were to be turned over
to the 8oth and 82nd — the Edinburgh and Hamilton
regiments, and at once the heather was on fire.

The Highlanders refused to submit to this in-
justice, and flying to arms, entrenched themselves
on the shore at Leith, and refused to yield.
Soldiers were sent down from the Castle at Edin-
burgh, to quell the insurrection, and a fierce conflict
ensued, which was stopped only by the intervention
of a well-known Highland officer who appeared on
the scene, and spoke in Gaelic to the mutineers,
but not before Captain Mansfield, of the South
Fencibles, and nine men, were killed, and thirty-one
soldiers wounded.

At the trial of the three ringleaders — and this is
the point to which I wish to draw your attention —
one of them, hailing from Caithness, pleaded through
his agent that he had only enlisted into the 71st, or
Eraser Highlanders ; that Gaelic was his native and
only tongue ; that the kilt was his only dress ;
and that he wouldn't know how to put on trousers.
After being sentenced to be shot, they all received
a free pardon from the King, who thus gracefully
acknowledged the original injustice done to the poor
Highlanders.

Nineteen years before, almost to a day, the Eraser
Highlanders were retreating sullenly before the
enemy at Quebec. The General, in a blazing
temper, rode up to the Eield-Officer, and complained
of the disgraceful behaviour of his corps. The

AND THE BAGPIPE. 367

angry soldier was told very plainly that he himself
was to blame for the disaster, in forbidding the
Pipers to play that morning : —

" Nothing encourages the Highlanders so much in
the day of battle, and even now they " — the Bagpipes
— "would be of some use," said the Field-Officer.

"Then, in God's name, let them blow up," said the
General. And at the first sound of their beloved
Pipes, the Highlanders — who but a moment before
were retreating — rallied, and shoulder to shoulder
as in the old days, rushed straight at the foe, and
drove him before them, as chaff is driven before
the wind.

Here, then, we have, at last, the opinion of the
old Highlander, expressed in no uncertain fashion.
In defence of his dress and of his language, he is
willing to lay down his life on the shores of Leith.
But at Quebec, in defence of his favourite war in-
strument, the Great Highland Bagpipe, he is ready
to risk that which he values a thousand times more
than his life — his honour. It is impossible for me
to believe that my forefathers would have staked
life and honour in such gallant fashion for a mere
whim, or in defence of " newly-borrowed plumes."

To the Highlander who believes otherwise, I would
only say, "Go, tell it to the Marines."

Murray, in that monumental work which he is
bringing out just now, called, "A New English
Dictionary," defines the Bagpipe as "a musical
instrument of great antiquity and wide distribution^
consisting of an airtight wind-bag, and one or more

368 SOME REMINISCENCES

reed-pipes, into which the air is pressed by the
performer;" and with this definition, every authority
on the subject is in accord.

I have tried to shew its antiquity from history.
The Greeks have known it for 2100 years, and the
Latins for 1900 years, and these two peoples only
borrowed it from the Celt, or other stranger.

The illustrations in this book give a good idea
of its imde distribution. If I had in my collection
the " Volynska,^' of Russia — a Pipe very similar to
the Egyptian — and the Afghan Pipe — both of which
I hope still to get — it would prove, without any
written or oral demonstration, that in its distribution
it is wide, extending from our own Hebrides on the
West, to India in the East, and from St. Petersburg
in the North to Cape Town in the South.

It is also the same to-day as yesterday in
essentials, and is composed of the same simple
materials — ^^ an air-tight wifid-bag, and one or more
reed pipes.""

The Piob Mhor, or Great Highland Bagpipe, is a
good example of the survival of the fittest.

Like the different Bagpipes of the world, it started
from the tiny Shepherd's Pipe, and its development
was slow and gradual in the Highlands.

To prepare the way for a better understanding of
the Piob Mhor, I shall recapitulate shortly.

The Greeks had a one-drone Bagpipe very early,
called Pythaulos, or Apollo's Pipe. They also had
a many-drone, chanterless Pipe, named Sumphonia.
This latter, is, I believe, the very first Bagpipe

Bulgarian Pipf. :

The gift i)f Mr Rankine. Rosebank.
The chanter ot this Pipe is decorated with lead, and ends in a pecuhar knee made

cif lead.

A Second Spanish Bagpipe :

Shewing a small additional drone. It is more modern and niucli better finished

than the preceding one.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 369

mentioned in history, and dates from 176 B.C.
In the Sumphonia^ two of the drones were pierced
with holes, and were played upon like a chanter, and
made the melody. The first Roman Pipe specially
mentioned in history (a.d. 54) was a two-reeded
droneless Pipe, and we have the same form per-
petuated for us in the Egyptian Pipe of to-day, a
specimen of which graces the opposite page.

The Italian Shepherd's Bagpipe (or Pivci) is still
a one-drone Pipe, as is also the Gheeyita, or
Shepherd's Pipe of Spain, and the Bagpipe of Bul-
garia. The chanter of the Spanish Pipe is furnished
with only seven holes, the thumb-hole being awant-
ing ; but in a very modern set, of which I shew a
drawing here, there is the thumb-hole, and also an
attempt at a second drone. It seems improbable,
however, that the two drones, judging from their
comparative lengths, are in harmony, unless, indeed,
two or more octaves separate them.

The workmanship of these two last-mentioned
Pipes is very defective ; the ornamentation is of the
meagrest and cheapest ; the sliders of the drones fit
very imperfectly ; and the reeds are of the rudest
construction. In fact, they shew little or no im-
provement upon the original Bagpipe, which those
three peoples had given them, long centuries ago.

The German Bagpipe — the Schalmei, Dudel-sac,
Sac-pfeiffe, Shepherd's Pipe — for it is known by these
and other names — grew into a variety of curious forms
— the arrangement of the drones especially shewing
great ingenuity. It was the favourite instrument of

370 SOME REMINISCENCES

the German shepherd from the very earliest of times.
It became, ultimately, more or less of a monstrosity
— the huge bell-shaped ends attached to both
chanter and drones making it a burden to the player
and a most unwieldy instrument. The bell of chanter
and drones was probably derived from the ancient
Pipe with animals' horns for terminals. The addition
of the bellows in the German Bagpipe — which took
place about the same time as in France — was alone
wanting to complete this chameleon-like monster,
and having attained to perfection (in the eyes of
its admirers), it speedily declined, and is now practi-
cally defunct. Nor do I think that the innumerable
German bands which have sprung up in its place are
an unmixed blessing.

In France, the Ckalumeau — a one-drone Pipe —
attained its highest popularity when its would-be
improver turned it into a Bellows-Pipe — the Musette,
with four, five, and six drones — which, after a short
existence as the plaything of the Louis, also fell
into disfavour, from which it has never recovered.
In England, where the improver was also at work,
the Bagpipe has died out, except in the north-east
corner, where the "Northumbrian Small Pipes" still
exist.

Everything possible in the way of improvement
has been done for this Bagpipe. The scale has
been modernised ; keys providing sharps and flats
have been added ; the scale has been lengthened
out almost to two octaves, and, by a very ingenious
arrangement, the drones can be changed from G to

AND THE BAGPIPE. 37I

D, to suit the two keys of the chanter. But what
is the result? Alas for the theorists! its constitution
has been so weakened by all this tinkering- that it
can hardly eke out sufficient breath with which to
sing its own death-song.

I first heard this little instrument played at
Choppington by one of the foremost players of the
day. He was anxious to impress me with its merits,
and he opened up in his best style with his
favourite piece, which was (Heaven help us ! ) the
"Viennese Waltz." When the Bagpipe is reduced
to playing rubbish such as this, the sooner it
sings '''■Nunc Dimittis^^ and retires gracefully from
the stage, the better.

In Ireland, where the improved Bellows-Pipe has
come to the greatest perfection of all, it has fared
no better.

I venture to say that there is not one person in
Ireland, now that Professor Goodman, of Trinity
College Dublin, is dead, who can tune the double
bass Regulator Pipe, to say nothing of being able
to play upon it. This is the Pipe which is shewn
on the opposite page, and described in another place.

A judge of Pipe music, who was present in
Dublin some years ago at the Irish Mod, told me
that not one out of the five or six pipers — all they
could get together, from the whole of Ireland ! — who
entered for the competition, had his Bagpipe tuned.

And as the playing, too, was of a very inferior
order, the effect upon his ear, he said, was anything
but pleasant.

372 SOME REMINISCENCES

Now, the lesson I draw from all this is, that any
attempt at improving the Great Highland Bagpipe
must prove futile. It is all very well in theory,
but in practice we have before us the fate which
has invariably overtaken the improved Pipe in this
and in other countries.

It is an undisguised blessing that the Highlander
resisted all such improvements in the past, pre-
ferring to use the bellows which God gave him to
the poor substitute provided by man, and also re-
fused to have the old-world scale of the chanter
altered to the modern scale.

The Highland Pipe of to-day, if we except the
addition of a few holes to the chanter, is the un-
expurgated edition, so to speak, of the original
Shepherd's Pipe, when once the " burden," or
drone, had been added to it. And here, in passing, I
may mention that the addition of the drone led to a
new style of music. Singing in unison, which was
the almost invariable custom in the Highlands in
olden times, and is common to this day, was,
practically speaking, the only method at one time
in vop-ue in this and other countries.

But the drone accompaniment added so great an
additional charm to Bagpipe music that it was
copied by the early vocalists, and part singing grew
out of it. Quite a number of the oldest English
part-songs have a drone bass in imitation of the
Bagpipe ; and you can provide no better bass yet
to the good old song of "The Phairson Swore a
Feud," than the nasal drone bass. Any other

AND THE BAGPIPE. 373

accompaniment to really old Highland airs is all
but an impossibility.

But it was of the Great Highland Bagpipe, the
Pioh Mhala, or Piob Mhor, that I intended writing ;
of its age, construction, peculiarities of scale, etc.

The Great Highland Bagpipe is par excellence^
the King of Bagpipes, because it has hitherto refused
to be modernised. It is the type from which the
Pythaula of the Greeks, and the Piva of the Latins
was derived.

It is almost as primitive in construction as when
the shepherds piped on the plains of Bethlehem on
that first Christmas morn.

The workmanship is better certainly, and the
scale more extensive, and the tone richer and fuller
owing to the use of stronger and better constructed
reeds and the larger bore, but otherwise it is very
little altered. It is now invariably furnished with
three drones ; the two small ones being in unison,
and pitched one octave higher than the large drone ;
but in everything else, it is just the old primitive
Piob^ Piva, Chalumeau^ or Shepherd's Pipe.

The scale of the chanter is still the old Eastern
scale of neuter thirds.

It has survived until now, because it has persis-
tendy turned a deaf ear to the critics who said,
*' With a few keys added and a truer scale, you
would be a much superior instrument."

To these tempters, it has hitherto said " My
defects are my own, and have given me my indi-
viduality. Without them I would be just a common

374 SOME REMINISCENCES

modern instrument of eight notes, witii no flexibility,
stiff and formal : and with nothing distinctive or
characteristic about me, unless it were the mono-
tonous drone.

" In competition with modern instruments, I would
be nowhere. The Eastern scale is my charm, and
gives a variety to the music otherwise impossible,
even if at times, it does offend the modern ear ; and
without it, I would soon be accorded a fitting repose
in the antiquarians' rubbish heap."

The vitality of this semi-barbarous instrument is
surpassing, only because it has been true to itself
in the past, and will last, only so long as it is true
to itself in the future. With so many theoretical
advisers about, it must not forget the lesson — a
lesson as much required to-day as ever — learned
from a contemplation of the untimely end to which
the improved Bagpipe in the past has come.

The scale of the Bagpipe differs from that of all
other instruments of the present day.

It is an old-world scale, and is still in use by one
or two of the Eastern nations. When we call it a
scale of neuter thirds, we mean that there are no
proper sharps or flats in it.

The drones are in the key of A major, and are
tuned to A of the chanter, which practically makes
A the dominant or key note, but the tunes for the
Bagpipe are written indifferently in G (one sharp),
D (two sharps), and A (three sharps).

The scale extends from low G to high A, an
octave and one note, and as there are no keys, or

AND THE BAGPIPE. 375

Other method of taking in or leaving out a sharp in
the transition from the key of A to G, or from the
key of G to D, there is none of the three keys
correct according to modern notation. Nor are they
correct when measured by the modern scale. But
by using this ingenious old-world scale without
sharp or flats proper, the seeming difficulty — nay !
at first sight the impossibility — of playing a tune in
G at one moment, and in A the next moment,
without adding to, or taking away from the sharps,
is cleverly got over : because as there are no sharps
or flats in the chanter scale, you cannot take away
from what is not ; and yet you get an effect almost
identical with the effect of transposing from one
key to another, as is done in the modern method
by taking in or leaving out extra sharps or flats pro-
vided for the purpose.

But there is — there must be, a decided difference
in the two methods ; and it is this very difference in
the Bagpipe scale which makes the music so delight-
fully original and refreshing to the trained ear.

If I have not made myself clear to you, first play
upon the piano from the Pipe score such tunes as
'< Highland Rorie," '* Roderick of the Glen," " High-
land Laddie," or the modern tune of '' Elspeth
Campbell," and then play the same tunes over on
the chanter. On the piano, the discord is all but
unbearable, while on the chanter, it is hardly per-
ceptible.

"Highland Rorie," for example, opens upon A
for the first two bars, then suddenly repeats the same

376 SOME REMINISCENCES

upon G, and so on. It is this sudden transition
from one key to another without any alteration of
the scale, which gives Bagpipe music its quaint
piquant flavour.

Marching tunes are written principally in A and
D, while G lends itself more to Piobaireachd, and
especially to laments, such as " The Lament for

the Children," by Patrick Mor MacCruimein, and
" MacLeod of MacLeod's Lament."

The tune in D, I must confess, I do not like, the
" burden " the while booming along in A ; it grates
upon my ear.

Many good pipers, however, do not share this
objection with me, but I am quite sure of this, that
it is the tune ending in D which ordinary people
cannot tolerate, and which gives them a distaste for
the Pipe. The composers of D tunes, however, seem
aware of the fault of a too prolonged or too-often
repeated discord, and they try to avoid this by
touching lightly and as seldom as possible on the
D, although it is the key note for the time being.

There is no doubt that the practising chanter is
mainly responsible for so many tunes being written
in this key, as there is no drone to warn the com-
poser that he is writing for it as well as for the
chanter. In the Northumbrian Pipe this difficulty is
got over by changing from the drones in A, or rather
in G, to D.

In spite of the prejudice I have to D lunes
however, I acknowledge that there are many good
ones, more especially dance tunes.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 377

But to return to the instrument itself, tiiere is no
doubt, as I have said more than once, that this neuter
third scale, and the monotonous drone accompani-
ment, while giving it a distinctive character among
musical instruments, also detracts largely from its
reputation in the eyes of the musical critic. And
when to these peculiarities you have a performer
who, although fairly capable otherwise, does not
know how to keep his instrument in tune, then
indeed does listening become perforce a pain and a
burden.

But a well-tuned Highland Bagpipe in capable
hands is difficult to beat. It can still charm and
delight the ordinary listener as well as the highly-
cultivated musician.

To any one who wishes to have a scientific
explanation of the Bagpipe scale — a flight too high
for me to attempt — I would recommend the article on
it in the appendix to Mr Manson's book. I have
only given you my own impressions, in homely
language, and the conclusions which I have formed
after a long and intimate acquaintance with the
subject, and have studiously avoided anything which
might savour of the expert, seeing that I am not
learned in the theory of music.

If I have lingered too long over the old-world
character of the Great Highland Bagpipe chanter,
trying to prove that it should on no account be
altered to suit modern requirements, it is because
there is a real danger of some such attempt being
made in earnest one day, when, if it should succeed,

37^ SOME REMINISCENCES

then good-bye to the ancient Pipe of the Highlands.
The expert knowledge and common-sense of our
Bagpipe-makers have kept things right so far. A
speaker at a Highland gathering held this year at
Johannesburg (and a Highlander himself to boot !)
devoted a large part of his speech to the argument
that "a more correct scale, and the addition of a
few keys to the chanter, would make the Highland
Bagpipe a much better instrument," and his remarks
were received by his Highland audience with
applause. Now, not one writer in one land, but
many writers and speakers in many lands, are
asking thoughtlessly for these so-called improve-
ments. I hope I do not boast when I say that I
have some little knowledge of improved Bagpipes ;
I play a little upon the Northumbrian, the Lowland,
and the Irish " Pipes," and I possess practically all
the music which has been written for the English
and Irish Bagpipes ; but I always, after dallying
with the improved instrument, return to the Great
Highland Bagpipe with an increased zest and a
keener sense of its superiority over all others ; and
I would not give one good pibroch for all the Bellow-
Pipe music in the world.

Leave the Great Highland Bagpipe as it is then
I say.

Improve the piping by all means.

Teach the piper to tune his instrument properly ;
to use only good reeds ; to stick more to the old
music, especially pibroch ; to avoid modern rubbish,
such as waltzes and polkas, and the music of other

AND THE BAGPIPE. 379

instruments cut down and altered to suit the " Pipes.''''
If this were done we should hear less of Bagpipe
reform in the future. The Bagpipe, in fact, needs
no reforming — will stand no reforming. The piper
may. And the reformer ? Let him study the
instrument more closely, and listen oftener to its
music, so that his ear may get used to its old-world
scale, and all will be well with the Great War Pipe of
the Highlands in the years to come.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE GREAT HIGHLAND BAGPIPE — ITS ANTIQUITY.

The Antiquarian is "too often a collector of valuables that are
worth nothing:, and a recollector of all that Time has been glad to
forget."— " Tin Trumpet," by Horace Smith.

"lifR MacBAIN'S three-drone, or Great Highland
■^ -*■ Bagpipe, the only " Simon Pure," dates no
further back than the eighteenth century.

It is not of it that I would speak in this chapter,
but of the Highlanders' War Pipe, the '^ Piob
Mhor,"" the "Great Pipe," which George Buchanan,
the Historian tells us led the Highlanders on the
field of battle in his day — i.e., in the early part of
the sixteenth century.

Have we any dates to help us in our research ?

The Inverness school apparently can find none,
and its disciples, along with their leader, are re-
duced to feeble guessing.

The leader of this school, who has apparently got
a few followers in the South who allow him to do
their thinking for them — if it can be called thinking
— says that, " like the potato, the kilt and the Bag-
pipe are recent introductions in the Highlands."

AND THE BAGPIPE. 381

These three things are evidently bracketed together
to trip up " the unwary." But because the potato
and the gramophone are recent introductions in the
Highlands, that is no proof that the kilt and the
Bagpipe are modern.

Every school child knows how the potato got into
this country.

No Highlander ever claimed it as a Highland
invention or discovery, but most Highlanders do lay
claim to the kilt and the Bagpipe as Highland out-
and-out ; and they are quite within their rights in
doing so. To bracket the three things together —
one modern, and two ancient — as Mr MacBain has
done — is at once to introduce into the discussion the
^ ^ suggest io falsi '^ — a poor method of argument for a
scientist or scholar to employ.

The potato has, in short, as much to do with
the Bagpipe as the man in the moon.

The earliest notice of the Bagpipe in Scotland is
to be found in a work by Aristides Quintilianus —
a writer who flourished about a.d. 100.

The next earliest mention of the Bagpipe is by
our friend, Gerald Barry, the Welshman, who was
born while the twelfth century was still young.

And the third and only other date necessary to
mention is the date of payment to King David's
(H. of Scotland) Pyper, viz., 1362.

It is now acknowledged (because it cannot be
denied) that the Bagpipe was known in Scotland in
the fourteenth century.

We have, therefore, to consider only the two first

382 SOME REMINISCENCES

dates given here, and as no other, so far, are
available, it becomes all the more necessary for us
to verify them. History, however, is not everything,
and it would be absurd to deny the antiquity of
the Bagpipe as a Highland instrument, because
the written proof is scanty. You cannot always ex-
pect chapter and verse for every little detail in an
as^e when there was no one to write these down :
and for many centuries after the Romans left the
country, Scotland was without a historian, but she
existed all the same ; and so did the Bagpipe —
both unrecorded.

When the first real historian came on the scene
in the person of George Buchanan (born 1506) one
of the most learned and cleverest men of his time,
he found the Bagpipe, as we learn from the intro-
duction to his book, a very important instrument in
the economy of the Celt. It was already the Great
Pipe, the War Instrument of the Highlanders, having
supplanted on the battlefield both horn and trumpet,
and — if it pleases you to believe so — harp. This
means that it was, in George Buchanan's time, a
loud-toned, powerful instrument, able to make itself
heard amid the din and roar of battle, with a drone
or drones attached, and practically identical with the
present Pipe, the only difference being a simpler
ornamentation — no combing on the drones, and, in-
stead of ivory ferrules, ferrules of horn or bone,
with the terminals of the drones larger, elongated,
and of pear-shape, and the G of the chanter
flatter. A few rings also of brass wire on the

AND THE BAGPIPE. 383

drone, or a simple inlaying with lead, was not
uncommon.

"It would appear," writes Mr Glen, "as if the Bag-
pipe was not employed by the Highlanders for purposes
of war until the beginning- of the fifteenth century.

" Previous to this date the armies were incited to battle
by the prosiiacha^ or war-song of the bards. The last
prosnacha was recited at the Battle of Harlaw (141 1) by
MacMhuirich, the bard, who was also the first satirist
in this country of the Bagpipe."

Here is a verse from MacMhuirich's poem, as
translated by Mr Stewart in the Piohaireachd Society's
collection of Piohrach : —

"The first bag (-pipe), and melodious it was not, came
from the Flood. There was then of the pipe, but the
chanter, the mouthpiece, and the stick that fixed the key,
called the sumaire (drone?).

The poem goes on to say " But a short time after
that, and — a bad invention begetting a worse — there
grew the three masts, etc.

" At the close of the fifteenth century," continues Glen,
"the Bagpipes seems to have jumped into general favour ;
or, what is more probable, information on it becomes
more abundant."

Writing in short had now come to stay, and events
were being chronicled regularly, and to this, as Mr
Glen shrewdly guesses, its seenimg sudden popularity
is due.

Now, the first of our dates, lOO a.d. is discounted,
as I have said, by the antiquarian, because, he says,
Quintilianus never visited this country, and there-
fore could know nothing about the Highlanders, or
as the Romans called them — Caledonians.

384 SOME REMINISCENCES

I do not know myself whether Aristides Quin-
tilianus ever visited this country or not, but I do
know that Agricola was pushing his way through
Scotland at the very time when Aristides was writing
his book at Rome. Agricola also, according to the
custom of the Roman General of the day, sent back
to Rome typical specimens of the Caledonian Celt
chosen from among the prisoners of war, and these
men dressed in their native garb, armed with their
native weapons, and carrying their native musical
instruments — in short, surrounded with every dis-
tinctive mark of nationality to make them as con-
spicuous as possible, were exhibited in the streets
of Rome during one of the many processions
organised to appease the insatiable vanity of the
Roman people, and to spread the fame of the ever
victorious army and of its noble leaders.

In this way, the Roman procession became an
educative force ; and the dweller in Rome, although
he had never travelled beyond its walls, got to know
a great deal about the various peoples in the then
known world, and could truthfully describe their
armour, dress, and musical instruments without
having visited the different countries.

Strabo, the Geographer, who was born 64 B.C.,
and whose great work on " Geography," in seven-
teen volumes, was even thought worthy of transla-
tion within the last fifty years, affords an excellent
example in illustration of the above.

He was an acute observer of men and manners,
and an accurate scribe, and in one of his books he

AND THE BAGPIPE. 385

describes the Celt of Lincolnshire as a tall, straight,
shapely, and powerfully-built man, with rufus-
coloured hair, and blue eyes. He was particularly
struck with the great size of the British Celt, as
compared with the average Roman citizen. And
yet, Strabo never was in Lincolnshire ! Can we
believe him, then ? Of course we can, for he tells
us that he saw, " with his own eyes, five typical
Celts from the Fens of Lincolnshire exhibited in
the streets of Rome."

Now, the home of the Celt has ever been the
home of the Bagpipe, and 1500 years later another
writer of keen intellect and great powers of observa-
tion— our own Shakespeare — presents us with a
curious little fact in corroboration of Strabo's truthful-
ness, for while he mentions Bagpipes in his writings
over and over again, he only singles out one named
Pipe — the Lincolnshire. The Pipe of the Fens was
evidently the Pipe of Pipes in Shakespeare's day.
The words are put into the mouth of Falstaff, that
humorous rogue, who says he is as melancholy as
" the drone of a Lincolnshire Bagpipe.^' Several old
writers also mention this Pipe.

With such facts as these before him, the man
must be blind who denies the close relations which
have subsisted for ages between the Celt and the
Bagpipe.

Strabo, the great Roman writer of his day, writing
about the time when Christ was born, finds the
typical Celt hidden away in the Fens of Lincoln-
shire. Shakespeare, the great English writer, born

386 SOME REMINISCENCES

1500 years later, finds there — in these same Fens —
the typical Celtic instrument, the Bagpipe.

All of which also points to the conclusion that
Aristides Quintilianus knew what he was talking
about, and may well be believed, when he asserts
that the Bagpipe was known in the Highlands of
Scotland in his day. What does it matter to us
whether he gained his knowledge while travelling
in this country, or while watching the daily pro-
cessions from his parlour window in Rome?

But in a matter of this kind, I sometimes think
that common sense is as safe a guide as any
antiquarian conjecture.

Horace Smith's estimate of the antiquary of his
day was not far from the mark, and except that
our modern antiquary, from being over-bold, and
full of belief in things ancient, has become over-
timid, and profoundly sceptical of everything savour-
ing of the antique, the estimate still holds good.

When I was young, the story of the Inverary
Standing Stone was a constant source of amusement
to the boys at school.

The sight of any old man dressed in rusty black,
with a napless, concertina-hat covering his bald
head — a snuffer, of course, from the brown stains
upon his upper lip, and the huge, red cotton
pocket handkerchief sticking out between his long
coat tails behind — always revived the story, for we
felt sure that in this innocent old rubbish-heap
grubber, there dwelt the soul of an antiquary, a
thing which we despised heartily.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 387

The Story, as it was told to us, and as we retold it
to one another, was as follows : —

There once stood in a field, somewhere outside of
Inverary, a large, solitary, upright stone, one of two
which at one time had formed the pillars of a gate ;
but as far back as the memory of living man went,
there had been but one stone in the field, forming
a sort of " Lot's Wife " landmark to the traveller
passing by. The companion pillar, and dividing
dyke, and wooden gate, had long since disappeared.

One hard winter, when masons had gone curling
mad for want of better to do, one of their number,
during his enforced leisure — being a bit of a wag,
and not much given to the roaring game — secretly
carved upon the old stone, the following mysterious
legend in Roman characters: — "For cows to scratch
their backs on."

Mysterious, I call it, for the artist had broken up
the words erratically, making out of them a word
puzzle something like the following: — " FORC
OUST OSCRA," etc., and a fourth century date.

With the assistance of a bit of pumice stone, a
little moss and brown earth, the engraving quickly
became quite weather-beaten and ancient-looking.
Such a find could not long escape notice, and before
long its discovery was noised abroad.

The mason may have had something to do with
the discovery, but at this stage he kept discreetly in
the background. When the story got abroad, the
whole countryside flocked to view the wonder, but
no man was able to read the writing on the stone.

388 SOME REMINISCENCES

The assistance of the Antiquarian Society was
called in, and the world, now all on tiptoe to learn
what the inscription meant, had not long to wait.
It was announced, by the learned gentleman sent
out by the Society, to be a Roman inscription^ re-
cording the passing of a Roman legion through the
district ; the name of the commander, and the date.

" A brilliant piece of work," said the admiring
world — and it was. The date was certainly all
right.

Until then it had been a secret that the Romans
had ever occupied Inverary, and but for the newly-
found writing on the pillar, the secret might have
remained a secret for ever.

But when the young mason who had perpetrated
the joke — thinking, perhaps, that it had gone far
enough — wrote to the papers and gave the true
reading of the Roman inscription (more graphic
than mine, if less polite), the laughter which followed
was not confined to the illiterate classes.

Numerous mistakes of a similar nature to the
above, turned the all-believing fossil of sixty or
seventy years ago into the sceptical fossil of to-
day, who believes nothing to be old without written
proof, and who, through nervous timidity, and a
desire to stand well with the world, misses truth as
surely as did his predecessor from over-confidence.

For my own part, I believe in Quintilianus when
he says that we had the Bagpipe in the first century;
and I feel sure that he wrote out of the fulness of his
own knowledge.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 389

The value of the second date (1118), turns upon the
meaning of the word, "chorus" or ^^ choro." If it
meant Bagpipe in Gerald Barry's time, then was the
Bagpipe a Scottish instrument in (say) the eleventh
century.

I have already shewn that "chorus " did mean Bag-
pipe in England in the ninth century, and that it still
retained the same meaning in the thirteenth century.
Gerald Barry, who is familiar with the Bagpipe in
Wales, where, according to him, it is also called
"chorus," coming north in the beginning of the
twelfth century, finds a Bagpipe in Scotland — one of
the three musical instruments of the country — to
which he naturally gives the name of "chorus."
Not that the Bagpipe was ever known to the High-
lander by this name, but Barry is writing for the
Welsh people, and uses the Welsh name.

This instrument, to which he applied the English
name, could be no other than a Bagpipe (similar
in every respect to the English or Welsh Bagpipe)
otherwise Barry, who was an expert in musical
matters, would have given it its proper name of
Piob Mala, and noted down its peculiarities.

The proof, to my mind, is overwhelmingly strong,
that the "chorus" was the Bagpipe, and that it
was one of the principal musical instruments of the
Scots at the time of Barry's visit, i.e. — the middle
of the twelfth century. So much for the second of
our dates. The third date requires little or no
confirmation from me.

"Tradition," says the antiquarian, "is quite

39<^ SOME REMINISCENCES

unreliable, when unconfirmed by early writers or
historians," and so he proceeds to ignore tradition
altogether.

When Burns was in Stirling, he heard there the
tradition that the tune known as ''Hey, tutti taiti,"
was King Robert the Bruce's March, and was
played on the Bagpipe at Bannockburn.

This tradition was repeated to him at many other
places further south, and, believing in it, the poet
composed to this air the stirring song of "Scots
wha hae."

"But," says Ritson, the antiquarian, "it does not,
however, seem at all probable that the Scots had
any martial music in the time of this monarch."
And why? Because "horns are the only music
mentioned by Barbour ; so that it must remain a
moot point whether Bruce's army was cheered by
the sound of even a solitary Bagpipe."

It is creditable to Ritson that he did not deny
the possibility of the Bagpipe being present at
Bannockburn, because, in his day, the antiquity of
the Pipe as a Scottish instrument was denied, and
the discovery that King Robert's son kept a "pyper"
had not been made. The tradition, in short, was
uncoiifiimed when he wrote, and therefore, '■^ quite
unreliable.'" But with the new light shed upon the
antiquity of the Pipe, the tradition gathers weight
and value.

Burns has been sneered at for believing in it, but
the Poet's rare insight was a better guide after all,
than the best lore of the antiquarian. " Hey, tutti

AND THE BAGPIPE. 391

taiti " is a Bagpipe tune in spite of dicta to the
contrary, and is still played on the Pipe. On the
horns (of two to five notes) used at Bannockburn,
the air would be unplayable.

Our third date — 1362 — is unassailable. It is an
entry of payment to King David's Piper, recently
found in one of Scotland's old exchequer rolls.
And yet ! I heard Mr White of Glasgow — better
known as "Fionn" — say, in a lecture to the High-
land Club of that city, that the above payment
shewed that "the Bagpipe was known in England
long before it was known in Scotland." This is
really sublime. And worse still ! On the strength of
Mr White's dictum the Glasgow evening papers,
not perceiving the very palpable double blunder
made by the lecturer, had paragraphs in large
headlines, "The Bagpipes an English Instrument."
This is how the Highland Bagpipe is treated by
its friends ; and the young Highlander is being
gradually taught to look upon it as a modern thing
which came from England, and with which his fore-
fathers were unacquainted. In this lecture, Mr
White showed himself to be a faithful follower of
Mr MacBain, and denied the antiquity of the "Pipes"
in Scotland. His lecture, however, was little better
than a rehash of the Inverness heresies, and
showed a slavish adherence to the numerous blunders
perpetrated by Mr MacBain. But Mr MacBain,
bold as he is, would never venture to make such a
use of the 1362 incident. He would never dare to
talk of David II. of Scotland as an English king

392 SOME REMINISCENCES

before a body of educated Highlanders, and infer
from this that the Bagpipe was known in England
long before it was known in Scotland. Less ridiculous
arguments must be brought forward by those writers —
Highland or otherwise — who wish to prove England's
prior claim to the Highland Bagpipe, or to disprove
its antiquity.

A fine example of the ordinary

Irish Bellows Pipe.

It has three drones and one regulator, and is made of ebony and ivory, with
silver keys. The maker of this Pipe appeared before the Hijfbland Society in — I
think — 1832, and gave selections on one of his own Irish Pipes. It may have been
this very Pipe.

CHAPTER XXXV.

MR MACBAIN AND THE BAGPIPE.

"Or, Baggepype-like, not speake before thou'rt full." — 1618.

— Belchier.

A"! 7HAT reasons for doubting the antiquity of the
Highland Bagpipe can the antiquarian give?
With what arguments does he assail the mass of
proof in favour of its antiquity brought together in
the preceding chapters?

What record for consistency on this subject can he
shew ?

At first, the antiquarian said, that the Bagpipe was
introduced into Scotland by the Romans. This
gave the instrument a fine air of antiquity, and
was flattering to the Highlanders. But after a few
blunders on the lines of the Inverary fiasco^ he
began to search history for written proof. "There
must be no more guessing," he said; and having
found what he believed to be the earliest mention
of the Bagpipe in George Buchanan's history, and
having learned, in some way or another, that Queen
Mary had probably brought over a Piper in her
train — a musette player — he then asserted that the

394 SOME REMINISCENCES

Bagpipe was introduced to the Scottish people for
the first time by Queen Mary in the second half
of the sixteenth century. His attention, however,
was, after a time, called to a book which had been
published some years before Queen Mary came to
this country, in which two different kinds of Scots
Bagpipes were mentioned. This was rather discon-
certing to the Queen Mary hypothesis, and again
our antiquary had to shift his ground, if only by a
few years.

The book referred to was written in 1548, and
not by one day more would he allow that the Bag-
pipe was known in Scotland. When I came to
Falkirk, twenty-four years ago, the introduction of
the " Pipes " had been put still farther back.

The end of the fifteenth century was pronounced
to be the correct date. Burgh records shewing pay-
ments to the Town-Piper of this period had in the
meantime turned up. But only a few more years
had passed when the first of the old Exchequer
Rolls was published, and as the Bagpipe is there
mentioned as a Court instrument, the date had
again to be shifted, this time back to the middle of
the fourteenth century, to the year 1362 ; and at
this date, so far as our antiquarian friends are con-
cerned, it still stands ; not a very consistent record
for the antiquary this. I hope, however, that I
have given sufficient proof to make it necessary for
him to shift back the date once more, some 250
years or so — tracing it down certainly to the middle
of the twelfth century. And I feel sure there are

AND THE BAGPIPE. 395

many who, after they have read this book, will go
farther and believe with Aristides Quintilianus that
the Bagpipe was known to the Celt of Scotland in
the first centurv. We are not therefore indebted to
any other nation for it, as I have always maintained,
but we brought it with us from our old home in
the East, and other nations are indebted for it
to us.

Now there is a paper called The Home Journal^
published, I believe, in Inverness. In the number
dated Saturday, February 4th, 1899, there is a long
article on the Bagpipe by a well-known scholar and
antiquary, who signs himself Alex. MacBain, M.A.

He is said to be one of the best Gaelic scholars
of the day, and has written a most excellent Gaelic
Dictionary. He has also written numerous articles
upon Highland matters, in which latter he has
always shewn a great interest ; and if any man can
produce proof to demolish the belief held by so
many Highlanders that the Bagpipe is an old
Highland instrument, Mr MacBain is the man of
all others to do so. As it happens, he has made
the attempt in this very article of February 4th,
1899, and we will now note carefully, and also test,
what he has got to say on the matter. The very
title of the paper, "The History of the Highland
Bagpipe : a lesson in anachronism " is aggressive,
and partly prepares us for what follows : viz., that
it is a modern instrument in the Highlands and not
Celtic at all.

"The potato," he says, "has become such an

396 ' SOME REMINISCENCES

integral part of our food material in the High-
lands, that it is now difficult to realise that it is
only a century and a half since it was introduced
into the country.^'' This we have already answered
by shewing that the task he puts to us is not in
the least difficult. "The heroes of Culloden were
not reared on potatoes ; it is the same with the
Bagpipe."

Rather foggy this ! but let it pass.

"It is now our national instrument of music. It
is so engrained in the musical system of the
Highlands, and in the hearts of the people, that
there is no wonder that unwary writers have postu-
lated for it a hoary antiquity."

Ah! cautious antiquary. No more mistakes about
ancient writings on scratching stones. You leave
that to the "unwary."

"The Great Highland Bagpipe and the philabeg,
or modern Highland dress, came into existence
about the same time — the beginning of last century ^

This is definite enough in all conscience. Mark
the cautious "but," which follows. "But they
both represent older forms. The Bagpipe then" (at
the beginning of the eighteenth century), ''''got its
third or big drofie added. Hitherto it was the same
as the Loivland and Northumbrian Bagpipe^ having
only two drones.'''

As a matter of fact, while a third drone was known
to many nations, and may have been occasionally
used by the Highlander long before the dawn of
the eighteenth century, it was not an acknowledged

The Old Form of the Northumberland
Bellows Pipe :

Differing from the lowland Pipe in having all three drones of different
lengths. The chanter, which has gt>t one key. is open below.

The stock, drones, and chanter are made of ivory and ornamented with
silver.

''^

AND THE BAGPIPE. 397

part of the Great Highland Pipe until near the end
of the century, and only became really fashionable
in the first half of the nineteenth century. It is
within my own recollection that most of the pipers,
who were largely of the Gipsy class, and went
round the country piping in the summer time,
used only one-drone or two-drone Bagpipes.

The Highland Bagpipe of two drones was certainly
in use in Northumberland until about 60 years ago,
but the "Northumbrian Pipe" (which is quite a
different instrument), has always had three or more
drones. There is some excuse for Mr MacBain
getting mixed a little between these two North-
umbrian Pipes, but there is none whatever for the
same writer when he asserts that the Lowland Pipe
had only two drones, and never got beyond two.

Mr MacBain continues thus: — "An unpublished

poem of the Rev. Alex. Hume, minister of Logie,

1598, contains this couplet: —

" ' Caus mlchtelie the weirlie nottes breike,

On Hieland Pipes, Scottes and Hyberniche.'"

"This seems to show that the Highland pipers
had begun to improve on the Lowland variety, as we
know they did, before ever they put the third drone
on."

What nonsense this is !

These lines shew that in i$g8 there were three
kinds of Bagpipes known to the author, which he
writes down, probably in order of merit. The
order may be for the sake of the rhyme ; and
if the Highland pipers began to improve on the

398 SOME REMINISCENCES

Lowland variety (which I deny altogether), there is
not one word in these lines to shew this.

The Pipe came into the Highlands according to
the MacBain gospel, a full-fledged two drone Pipe ;
and the only difference between the Great Pipe of
1598 and the Great Pipe of 1905 is the third drone.
The other improvements spoken of never existed
outside the imagination of the writer.

A more incorrect account than the above, a more
excellent "lesson in anachronism," was never
penned by any person claiming to be an authority
on the subject. The ignorance displayed, coming
especially from such a source, is truly amazing.

With the exception of one line, where the author
says "it is now our national instrument of music"
— and that statement is even disputed by some, —
there is not a single statement in this article on the
Bagpipe which is in accordance with the facts.

Mr MacBain gives the title of "Great Highland
Bagpipe " to the three-drone Pipe alone — the present
form taken by the Highland War Pipe — and here
he at once misleads, for we read of the Great Pipe
of the Highlands centuries before the large drone
was added, or rather, I should say, before the third
drone was added, as there is plenty of proof that
the large drone was used first on a two-drone
Bagpipe.

Again, he imagines that the addition of the third
drone, which he wrongly claims as an original
Highland invention, converted the Lowland-English
Bagpipe into a distinct species — The Highland

AND THE BAGPIPE. 399

Bagpipe. But the t-wo-drone Bagpipe was recog-
nised to be the Great Highland War Pipe, and was
used in all competitions as such until 1822 — more
than 100 years after the MacBain three - drone
Bagpipe came into existence! — when, to secure
uniformity, it was decided by the Highland Society
of London, to limit the competition in future to the
three-drone Pipe.

If Mr MacBain applies his undoubted abilities to
the study of this matter, I think he will very soon
discover that his boasted Highland improvement
was quite as much a Lowland improvement, if not
more so !

At the Competition in 1785 (a copy of the Bill an-
nouncing the Competion is one of the illustrations in
this book), the two-drone Bagpipe was recognised as
the "Great Highland Pipe," or it would not have
been allowed to compete. In short, the addition of a
third drone was not distinctively Highland, as other
nations had used a third drone centuries before the
Highlander put it upon his Bagpipe.

The Greeks had four or more drones on their
Bagpipes 2000 years ago.

The French Musette of 1631 had no fewer than
five drones. The Calabrian Pipe, which is the suc-
cessor to the Greek, has always had four drones —
while the Irish, Lowland-Scotch, and Northumbrian
have each not less than three.

" Its introduction into Scotland is as difficult to
trace as its introduction into England. Of course,
it came from England into vScotland."

400 SOME REMINISCENCES

So writes Mr MacBain.

But, as a matter of fact, its early appearance in
England is only coincident with its early appearance
in Scotland, and is due to the fact that the early
Briton was a Celt, and that the Celt took the Bag-
pipe with him where'er he went.

" We should maintain, judging from the spread
of Puritanism y that the northward advance of the
Bagpipe must have been slow."

He gives lOO years for its spread from the Low-
lands to the Highlands, and if we give the same
time for the slow advance from England into Scot-
land, this shews us the Bagpipe as a one-drone
instrument in the thirteenth century in England
becoming a two-drone instrument in the hands of
the Lowland Scots in the fifteenth century — "In
general, it had a chanter, and two drones." And
so, after another slow and tiresome journey along
the Puritan track, it at length appears in the
Highlands, where it takes the " musical genius "
of the hill tribes two hundred years to invent a third
drone.

This is Mr MacBain's History of the Bagpipe in
a nutshell.

"The real Lowland Bagpipe," he continues,
"never got further than the two drones, and so too
with the Northumbrian Pipe ; it was in the High-
lands that the Bagpipe grew to its acme of per-
fection."

Everything in the argument is so nicely arranged —
so easily grasped, that any child can follow it.

The Bei,lows Pipe of Lowland Scotland.

This old Pipe is made of ehony and ivory, and has no combing on the
drones. It has three drones, two small and one large, like all Lowland bellows
Pipes.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 4OI

You see the Pipe progressing slowly on its north-
ward journey, by even stages, like the stones in a
flight of stairs, each step in advance of and a little
higher than the other ! The Pipe more perfect at
the end of each journey ; the last host putting the
"acme of perfection" touch to the welcome
stranger.

Lucky for us that this corrector of anachronisms
has made himself so clear, but unfortunate for
him that the facts won't square with his theories ;
for of real facts there are few or none in his
argument.

In the " Encyclopasdia Britannica" for 1793 there
is an excellent article on the Bagpipe ; one of the
most correct and full accounts of the Pipe given
anywhere.

It was written nearly 100 years after Mr Mac-
Bain's three-drone and only Great Highland Bag-
pipe came into existence.

The writer, whose exact words I give, says : —
" While the Lowland Bagpipe has three drones^
and the Irish Bagpipe has three drones, the High-
land Bagpipe has only two drones y

Pennant, also, wrote from the Highlands in
1772: — "The Bagpipe has tisoo long pipes or drones.^''
What are we to think of Mr MacBain's state-
ments after this ? He has surely talked at random,
without ever giving a moment's thought to what
he was saying — trusting too much perhaps to his
reputation. But the best reputation in the world
could not gloss over a flimsy article such as his is.

402 SOME REMINISCENCES

He cannot ever have seen a Lowland set of "Pipes,"
or an old set of the Great Highland Bagpipe ;
and he is evidently a stranger to the Irish and
Northumberland Pipes ; and yet, he writes as if
these were quite familiar to him.

I have conversed with Lowland pipers on this
subject, and not one of these players on the Bellows-
Pipe ever heard of a two-drone set. I have seen
and examined many sets myself, some of them very
old, but they all had three drones.

Pipe-makers one and all, from the Messrs Glen,
of Edinburgh, downwards, say that they have never
seen a set of Lowland Pipes, except with three
drones. All of which disproves, once and for all,
the rash statement made by Mr MacBain that the
Lowland and the Northumbrian Bagpipes never got
beyond two drones. The following inscription is
on a Bellows-Pipe with four drones, which I once
saw in Newcastle, and proves that the Northumbrian
Pipe had four drones in the seventeenth cen-
tury: — "The gift of Simon Robertson to Salathiel
Humphries, 1695."

The present Irish Pipe also has any number of
drones — from three to seven.

I have devoted a fairly long chapter to this dis-
credited article on the Bagpipe, not because of any
intrinsic merit which it possesses, but because of
the man who wrote it.

He is looked upon by the Highlanders as a great
authority upon Celtic matters, and his paper on the
Bagpipe must have struck — nay ! did strike dismay

AND THE BAGPIPE. 403

into the hearts of his Highland admirers. "I
spoke in haste," said the Psalmist, and the only-
excuse which suggests itself to me for the inaccura-
cies and "anachronisms" which disfigure every page
of Mr MacBain's paper, "A Study in Anachronism,"
is that he, too, spoke in haste, and failed to do
himself or his subject justice, like the piper who
began to play before his bag was full.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

A GREAT WAR INSTRUMENT.

" At Quebec their* piobroch shrill
Up the hill went breathing- terror." —

Sheriff Nicolson.

" To pipe at Highland games
With a host of smiling dames
To cast admiring- glances as you play,
Is a different matter quite
From the piping in a fight
Where the Pipers march in front and shew the way." —

T. Alexander.

TT is more than likely that the Celts of Pannonia
used the Bagpipe in war, before the Christian
Era.

The Greeks used it in the mimic warfare of the
Pythonic games about the same time.

But it was during the gallant struggle in the
cause of freedom, waged for two seasons against
the full power of Imperial Rome, by these simple
shepherds in the uplands of Pannonia, that the
Celt's Bagpipe is first heard of in history.

Prudentius, however (b. a.d. 348) — the greatest

* The " Fraser Highlanders " 13th September, 1759.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 405

of the Roman Christian poets, is the first writer,
so far as I am aware, to mention the Bagpipe as a
recognised instrument of war.

He says : — " Signum Symphonice belli Aegyptis
diderat " — which, when translated, reads: — "The
Bagpipe gave the signal for the battle to begin, to
the Egyptians," i.e. the Bagpipe sounded the charge.

Thus early do we find the piper in the forefront
of the battle.

The Roman army — with these examples before it,
was not slow in adopting the War Pipe, and one
of their writers, Procopius by name, mentions that
in his day it was the recognised marching instru-
ment of the Roman infantry.

After the fall of the Roman Empire, the Bagpipe
seems to have been forgotten as a military instru-
ment, until its fame was revived by the Highlanders
— at what precise date, we do not know — who forced
the authorities gradually to recognise its stimulating
effect on the soldier, and its consequent usefulness
on the field of battle.

And so to-day, the War Pipe of the old High-
lander, covered with glory and honour, is now the
War Pipe of the British Empire.

The Great Highland Bagpipe, indeed, is without
doubt, one of the grandest military musical instru-
ments that the world has ever seen — firing the
hearts of the Highlanders to deeds of heroism, but
breathing only terror to the foe. It has gained for
itself on the battlefield an undying fame.

The reasons for this are not far to seek. Its shrill

406 SOME REMINISCENCES

notes and clear powerful tones are well suited to the
roar and din of warfare, and its handiness in action —
(it is easily carried and the piper is able to play upon
it while at the double) and the stimulating effect
of its music upon the soldier, whether in pressing
home the charge, or in "lulling the retreat," as an
old Irish writer quaintly puts it, have earned for it
a well-deserved popularity. The Piper's place has
always been in the fighting line. The Regimental
Piper would consider himself disgraced if he were
not allowed to go forward with his regiment, and to
strike up when the command "Charge" rings out.
During the late Russo-Japanese War the soldiers
of the Tzar were reported on more than one occa-
sion to have gone forth to battle with massed bands
playing and colours flying. A magnificent spectacle
no doubt, and one which shewed great bravery on
the part of all concerned, but it was not war as we
understand it to-day. What the custom is with a
nation like Russia, I do not know, but in the
British army, when the tocsin of war sounds, the
military bands are left at some base town, the band-
master and the boys who are under age remain
behind, and while the war is proceeding, those boys
go on with their musical training under the eye of
the bandmaster as if nothing particular were happen-
ing, while the majority of the men go out as
stretcher-bearers. Only the pipers, drummers, and
buglers go forward with the army. A stranger
hearing the Great War Pipe for the first time on
the battlefield, or in the midst of nature's wilds.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 407

instantly appraises it at its proper value, otherwise
its many charms may remain hidden to him for
years.

The effectiveness of Pipe music, heard among the
hills, is much more striking than when the same
music is heard down in the plain.

It was up in the hills that M'Culloch, who was
for many years bitterly prejudiced against it, got
to know it in reality, and to respect and admire it,
and ultimately to love it. In one of his letters
from the north, he said: — "It has a grand and
noble sound, that fills the valley, and is re-echoed
from the mountains." And the old Highlander,
who knew well this "echo from the mountains" —
not one mountain, notice you, but several; up one
valley and down another, the echo travels, tossed
like a hand-ball from ben to ben ! — has incorpor-
ated the echo in his Pipe music to quite an ex-
traordinary extent. He also discovered for himself
— how long ago, no man knows — that the Pipe was
the one instrument for mountain warfare, and that
there was none other to compare in purposefulness
with it.

And so we find reflected in the pages of Pennant's
book, "A Voyage to the Hebrides," the views of
the Skyemen and others on the Bagpipe, one
hundred and fifty years ago.

Pennant's opinions are worthy of being placed on
record, as these were formed on the spot, after a
close study of the subject, and they thus may be
listened to as "an echo from the mountains" of 1769.

408 SOME REMINISCENCES

He had just been dining at the house of Wm.
MacDonald, piper to Kingsburgh — a large, com-
fortable, well-built house — and listening to the music
of the Pipe — in the very home of the Bagpipe.

From what he was able to learn on this journey,
he formed the opinion — to give his own words —
that "it had been a favourite with the Scots from
time immemorial," and "suited well the war-like
genius of the people, roused their courage to battle,
alarmed them when secure, and collected them
when scattered ; solaced them in their long and
painful marches, and, in times of peace kept up
the memory of the gallant deeds of their ancestors.
One of the tunes — wild and tempestuous — is said to
have been played at the bloody battle of Harlaw
in 1410."

Thirty years later, John Stoddart, who also
visited the Highlands, wrote of this war instrument :
— " The powerful tones of the Bagpipe, together with
its sudden and rough transitions, render it peculiarly
consonant with the turbulent feelings of warfare."

In more recent times the valuable qualities of the
Bagpipe on the field of battle have forced recog-
nition from Lowland or English officers attached
to Highland regiments, although such were at first
sometimes out of sympathy with the men in their
passionate love for it, and heartily disliked the in-
strument itself, as the following story well shews : —

General Sir Eyre Coote first heard the Highland
Bagpipe sounded in war at the battle of Port Novo,
in 1781.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 409

Previous to that day, when a handful of High-
landers, with their pipers, won for him a great and
glorious victory, he had expressed his opinion that
''it was a useless relic of the barbarous ages," and
*'not fitted for the discipline of the field."

But when he saw the pipers go forward bravely
with the men into the thick of the fight, and
learned, from personal observation, of the stimulating
effect which the music had upon the Highlanders,
he could no longer restrain his admiration for the
hitherto despised instrument, and riding up to the
pipers, who were playing in the thick of the fight
as if on parade, he shouted through the roar of
battle — "Well done, my brave fellows! you shall
have a set of silver Pipes for this."

And he was as good as his word, for he presented
the pipers next day with ^50 to buy the Pipes.
Nor did he ever again refer to the Pipes as "a
useless relic of the barbarous ages."

The enthusiasm called forth by the sight of the
gallant pipers piping in the midst of battle ; by
their military bearing, and by their conspicuous
bravery, has been well described in eloquent words
by the historian, Napier, in his " History of the
Peninsular War."

General Sir Eyre Coote's experience in days long
since gone by, has been the experience of many an
officer since. Once let a soldier hear the Pipe in
actual combat, and he is immediately won over to
its side, as was Sir Eyre Coote, and he becomes at-
tached to it, and loves it ever after for its worth's sake.

410 SOME REMINISCENCES

I am glad to know that the officers of our High-
land regiments to-day uphold and cherish the old
war instrument as keenly and whole-heartedly as
ever their forefathers did.

The army is, in fact, a great school for pipers
— one of the best — and a great help in perpetuating
the Bagpipe. There are between two and three
hundred army pipers ; and among them are several
champion players, and more than one youthful
coming champion.

But not only do the officers encourage the play-
ing of the Bagpipe among the men ; in many cases
they shoulder the drone themselves during spare
hours ; and I could name at least three gallant
officers whose play is far above the average, and to
whom I have often listened with pleasure ; but as
there are, no doubt, many more equally skilful
players in the Highland regiments, although un-
known to me, this might seem an invidious dis-
tinction on my part to make.

"There is no sound," said a distinguished general
once (speaking at a meeting of Highlanders in
Edinburgh, shortly after Waterloo), " which the
immortal Wellington hears with more delight, or
the marshals of France with more dismay, than the
notes of a Highland Pibroch."

"The Bagpipe is, properly speaking," writes Dr.
MacCulloch, "a military weapon. It is a handsome
weapon also, with all its pennons flying, and the
piper when he is well inflated is a noble-looking,
disdainful fellow."

AND THE BAGPIPE. 4II

In that most interesting of books, "With Kitchener
to Khartoum," Mr Stev^ens hits off the Bagpipe on
the battlefield in two words ; he is describing the
battle of Atbara, just before the charge of the High-
landers, and says "the trumpets sounded the
advance, and the Pipes screamed battle.''''

All who have heard the *' Pipes," know that it
can scream and make a noise pleasant enough out
of doors, but unavoidably disagreeable in the house
— to over-sensitive ears at least. But this instrument
of rude, wild nature, while it expresses the fire
and fury and lust of battle, is not unmindful of the
slain.

In the "call to battle" you can hear the din and
roar of warfare, the tramp of armed hosts, and
clash of swords.

You have of a surety in the upper notes the
call to action, whether on the ballroom floor or field
of battle ; but it is in the lower notes that a great deal
of the charm and pathos of Bagpipe music lies.

Here you have the sadness, and the sorrow ; the
sadness that looks out at you from quiet grey eyes
in the Highlands to-day as then ; the sadness that
broods over the lonely Highland glen — now tenant-
less, but once filled with a brave and happy people ;
the sorrow that dwells beside the grey moss-covered
stone, marking the old burial-place at the head of
the glen ; the sadness that lurks in the shadows of
the mountain ere the storm breaks ; the sorrow that
clutches with icy fingers at the breaking heart when
death has taken some loved one hence.

4^2 SOME REMINISCENCES

"There is indeed," as Dr. Norman M'Leod so
beautifully expressed it, ''in all Pipe music, a mono-
tony of sorrow. It pervades even the Welcome, as
if the young chief who arrives, recalls also the
memory of the old chief who has departed. In the
Lament we naturally expect this sadness ; but even
in the summons to battle, with all its fire and energy,
it cannot conceal what it seems already to anticipate —
sorrow for the slain,^^

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE PIPE AT FUNERAL RITES.

" Shortly was heard, but faint yet, and distant, the melancholy
wailing of the ' Lament.'" — M'CuLLOCH.

'yHERE Is no doubt that the Great Highland
■*■ Bagpipe has gained lustre, and an undying
fame on the battlefield. But if it had never sounded
in the ear of a single soldier, inciting him to bravery,
it would still claim a warm place in every true High-
lander's heart.

The Pibroch^ which is a piece of classical music,
is the real business of the " Pipes," and it was by
means of the Pibroch that the old piper gave vent
to his deepest and most sacred feelings. Luckily a
large number of these old pieces of Pipe music
have been preserved for us. '* Ceol Mor^^' the last
book published, contains 275 in number, and of
these the majority is devoted to two subjects,
''War;' and '' Deathr

Now of these two, Laments for the dead are
more numerous than War pieces, and it is in the
Lament that the great pipers of old are seen at their
best.

414 SOME REMINISCENCES

The Highlander has always shewn great respect
for his dead, and in the old days the Bagpipe was
never awanting at the funeral obsequies, which were
sometimes carried out with a lavishness and prodi-
gality that almost takes one's breath away to-day.
Here is the description of the funeral of Hugh,
tenth Lord Lovat, who died April 27th, 1672: —

" At eight o'clock of the morning of the 9th May,
being the day appointed for the interment, the coffin,
covered with a velvet mortcloth, was exposed in the
courtyard, the pall above it being supported by four
poles, the eight branches of the escutcheon fixed to as
many poles driven into the ground — four at each end of
the coffin. A large plume surmounted the whole. Two
hundred men in arms formed an avenue from the gate
to the high road. Four trumpeters, standing above the
grand staircase, sounded an alarm on the approach of every
new arrival. A sumptuous entertainment was given about
mid-day. Between twelve and one the trumpets played
the " Dead March." Then the mourners raised the coffin,
and the pall above it. Two trumpeters preceded, and
followed the body. A horseman in bright armour, hold-
ing a mourning spear, led the van, two mourners in
hoods and gowns guiding his horse. At the ferry,
two war-horses, covered with black trappings, and held
by grooms attired in sables, had been placed in ambush,
who, starting up, here joined the procession. From the
west end of the moor to the kirk-stile, a mile in length,
armed bands of men were drawn up, through whose lines
the procession went slowly. The Earl of Ross alone sent
400 of his vassals, with their drums covered with black.
There were 1000 Frasers, with their Colonel, Thomas
Fraser, of Beaufort, at their head. There were a great
number of armed M'Kenzies, Munros, Rosses, M'Intoshes,
Grants, MacDonells, and Camerons.

"The Bishops of Murray, Ross and Caithness, with

AND THE BAGPIPE. 415

eighty of their clergy, were present, and a body of 800
horsemen. At the church-stile, the Earls of Murray and
Seaforth, the Lairds of Balnagown, Foulis, Beaufort,
and Stricken, carried the coffin into the church, which
was hung in black.

"After singing and prayer, the funeral sermon was
preached from 2nd Sam. iii. 38 : — ' Know ye not that
there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in
Israel ? '

" At four o'clock the whole ceremonies were over, and
the trumpets sounded the 'Retreat.' The different clans
filed off, with banners displayed and ' Pipes ' playing,
the Frasers forming a line, and saluting each as they
passed."

The humble funeral of the poor clansman was,
however, more in accord with the Bagpipe than all
this pomp and display.

The following description of such a funeral is from
the pen of Dr. M'CuIloch, and shews how beautifully
and sympathetically he could write of the Bagpipe,
and of the Highlander, after he had learned to
know both : —

" I shall not soon forget the last beautiful evening
that I spent in Lochaber, and such scenes, I doubt not,
have come across your path also. The slanting rays of
the yellow sun were gleaming on the huge mass of Ben
Nevis ; the wide and wild landscape around had become
grey, and every sound seemed to be sunk in the repose of
night. Shortly was heard, but faint yet, and distant, the
melancholy wailing of the ' Lament ' that accompanied a
funeral as its slow procession was seen marching down
the hill — the bright tartans just visible on its brown
declivity. As it advanced, the sounds seemed to swell on
the breeze, till it reached the retired and lonely spot where
a few grey stones, dispersed among the brown heath,

4l6 SOME REMINISCENCES

marked the last habitation of those who had gone before.
The pause was solemn that spoke the farewell to the de-
parted, and as the mourners returned, filing along the
narrow passes of Glen Nevis, the retiring tones died away,
wild, indefinite, yet melodious as the ^olian harp, as they
alternately rose and sank on the evening breeze, till night
closed around, and all was hushed."

There is no doubt that the Bagpipe lent a beautiful
picturesqueness to the old Highland funeral, com-
pleting and rounding off the last kindly services to
the dead. Never were time and place and circum-
stance more favourable to the Pipe. Never an
audience better attuned to its plaintive music — a
music that fills the glen and is re-echoed from the
mountain side.

One can scarcely credit in these days of hurry and
cremation, the yearning of the clansman for the
dear old music when trouble overtook him and
death seemed near. " However little a Southerner
may be able to enter into this passionate enthusiasm
for what in his ears seems shrill discord, he must
bear in mind, that just as in him the scent of a
flower, or the few chords of an old melody will
sometimes waken up a long train of forgotten
memories ; so to one whose earliest love has been
for the wild mists and mountains, those strains bring
back thoughts of home, and the memory of the
dead and absent comes floating back as on a breath
from the moorlands, mingling with a thousand
cherished early associations such as flood the inner-
most heart with hidden tears."

AND THE BAGPIPE. 417

" I truly may bear witness," writes Miss Gordon
Gumming, " how twice within one year, while watching
the last weary sufferings of two of the truest Highlanders
that ever trod heather, I noted the same craving for the
' dear old Pipes. '

" Roualeyn Gordon Gumming died at Fort Augustus,
March 24th, 1866, in the grey old fort at the head of
Loch Ness, which has now been demolished and replaced
by a Roman Gatholic Gollege. Dear to us is the memory
of that strange sickroom, the rude walls still bearing
the names of the Duke of Gumberland's soldiers carved
in their idle leisure, but adorned with trophies of the
chase, each one of which recalled to the dying hunter
the memory of triumphs in the days of joyous health.
Now his mighty strength was slowly ebbing. As night
after night passed by in pain and weariness, yet to that
lion-like beauty each morning seemed to add a new
refining touch of radiant spirit-light — a light that fore-
shadowed the celestial dawn.

" Night and day, through long weeks of suffering,
his faithful piper, Tom Moffat, never left his side, tend-
ing him with an unwearied devotion, the love ' that
passeth the love of woman,' fanning his fevered brow
with the wing of a golden eagle, — and ever ready, at
his bidding, to tune up the old Pipes and play the wild
melodies he most loved.

" His elder brother. Sir Alexander Penrose Gordon
Gumming, only survived him five months — five weary
months of pain — during which he, too, lay —

' Dying in pride of manhood, ere to grey

One lock had turned, or from his eagle face

And stag-like form. Time's touch of slow decay

Had reft the strength and beauty of his race.'

" Far from his beautiful home, and from the woods
and river he loved so dearly, he lay, held prisoner by
dire illness in the dull town.

" One night, shortly before his death, when after long

4l8 SOME REMINISCENCES

fevered hours of pain he lay exhausted, yet unable to
sleep, and the home voices usually so dear to him seemed
to have lost their spell, he exclaimed ' Oh ! that I could
hear a pibroch once more before I die.'

" It seemed like a heaven-sent answer to that cry, that
at this moment, faint but clear there floated on the night
wind, a strain of distant Pipe music. Nearer and nearer
sounded the swelling notes, played by the piper of a
Scotch regiment, who, when he learned how precious to
the ear of the dying chief was this breath from the
breezy hills, gladly halted and made the dull street re-echo
the notes of pibroch and wild laments, ' That is music,'
he murmured ; and when at length the piper went his
way, the long-strung nerves were soothed, and the
blessing of sleep so long denied — a deep refreshing
sleep — told how well the dear, dear music of the moun-
tains had worked its spell.

' Music that gentler on the spirit lies,
Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.' "

To the Highlander, indeed, Bagpipe music is
wholly impregnated with reminiscences of a life that
is now a thing of the past — the soft boom of the
drones ever reminding him of the old ways and old
days which, as seen through the mists of time, were
not altogether bad, but altogether lovely, and recalling
to the exile on a foreign shore sweet dreams of the
dear old home among the mountains.

With memories such as these clustering round
this old — it may be, rude instrument — is it to be
wondered at that we Highlanders — brushing aside
as unworthy of notice the cheap sneers of ignorant
critics — should love it, and love it dearly, in spite of
its simplicity, in spite of its rudeness, in spite of its
many imperfections. Given place, and time, and

AND THE BAGPIPE. 419

"The Master," what other instrument is there to
compare with it? As Dr. M'Culloch said, when
writing to Sir Walter Scott, "It is to hear it
echoing among the blue hills of our early days ; to
sit on a bank of yellow broom, and watch its tones
as they swell, mellowed by distance on the evening
breeze ; to listen to it as it is wafted wide over the
silent lake, or breaking through the roaring of the
mountain stream. This it is to hear the Bagpipe as
it ought to be heard, to love it as it ought to be
loved. It is wide and wild nature that is its home ;
the deep glen and the mountain that is its concert-
room ; it is the torrent and the sound of the breeze
that is its only accompaniment."

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

BAGPIPE MUSIC.

"Or is thy Bag-pype broke, that sounds so sweete ? " — (1579).

—Spenser. — Sheph. Cal.

TS Bagpipe music really worthy of the name of
■^ music? Spenser's shepherd evidently thought
it "sweet." We all know that it is great in
quantity ! Is its quality at all in keeping with its
quantity ?

Of Piohrach — the only music worthy of the instru-
ment, according to many good authorities — we have
some 275 still in existence. How many more are
lost to us for ever, no one can say ; but the
number must be exceedingly great.

From the "Forty-Five" onwards — until its re-
vival at Falkirk in 1781 — Pipe music was tabooed.
The tunes had never been written down (if we
except Caintaireachd) , but were carried in the piper's
memory ; and to any one who knows the length and
variety, and complicated fingering of Piobrach such as
"Donald Dougall McKay's Lament," or "Patrick
Og MacCrimmon's Lament," the wonder is that any
but the simpler ones should have survived.

AND THE BAGPIPE. 42I

It was from Piobrach that Mendelssohn got the
inspiration for his " Scotch Symphony."

For three whole days the great musician wandered
in and out of the old Theatre Royal, in Edinburgh,
listening to the finest pipers of the day playing
Piobrach during the great annual competition for
the championship, which was always decided by
'■'' Piobaireachd^'" and by ''^ Piobaireachd'" alone — no
" Ceol Aotram " at these meetings.

Many of these old Piobrach are well-known and
beautiful airs. Great singers of Scotch song have
made them familiar as household words with the
public. I once heard Sims Reeves, when at his
best, sing the " MacGregor's Gathering," and can
still remember the thrill which went through my
whole being during the performance. When he
rolled out, in a voice of thunder, " Gregalach!" the
audience was electrified.

The "MacGregor's Gathering," then! "The
Children's Lament," most beautiful and pathetic of
airs! " MacCrimmon's Lament," with its mournful
refrain, "MacCrimmon no more will return!" ^'■Pio-
brach of Donald Dhu," most thrilling of war songs ;
and many others, too numerous to mention, fully
justify the term — "Bagpipe Music." When we leave
^^ Piobrach," — "the real business of the Pipe" — as
M'Culloch calls it — and come to the simple High-
land Bagpipe airs, a better claim to our considera-
tion, or, at least one more easy of comprehension,
can be made out for Pipe music. Burns composed
many of his best songs to Pipe airs. " A man's a

422 SOME REMINISCENCES

man for a' that," "Scots wha ha'e," "Highland
Laddie," "Rantin', Rovin', Robin," are all Bagpipe
tunes. "I'm wearin' awa', Jean," by Lady Nairne,
" Blythe, blythe, and Merry are we," by Gray ;
"Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye wauken yet?" and in-
numerable other songs by various writers, have been
composed to Bagpipe music.

Again, as a war instrument, the Bagpipe has
produced many excellent marching tunes.

Is there any other war instrument that can shew
a better record in respect to marches ?

In 18 1 5, when John Clark, the piper-hero of
Vimiera, who was presented with a gold medal by
Sir John Sinclair at the annual competition in
"Ancient Martial Music" for bravery on the field
(his legs were mangled with chain-shot, but he con-
tinued piping as he lay and bled), came stumping in
on his wooden leg, he received a great ovation, the
audience, which filled the theatre from floor to
ceiling, rising to its feet and cheering lustily for
several minutes.

Mr Manson, who tells the story of Clark's heroism,
has evidently overlooked the above event, for he says
in his book that Clark, after the war, disappeared
from human ken, unrecognised and unrewarded.

Sir John wound up the occasion in an eloquent
speech with these words, already quoted : — " There
is no sound which the immortal Wellington hears
with more delight, or the marshals of France
with more dismay, than the notes of a Highland
Pioha ireachd. ' '

AND THE BAGPIPE. 423

Three years later (in 1818) Sir John MacGregor
Murray, speaking on a similar occasion, said : —
"The piper's post in olden times was in front of
his comrades in the day of danger — an honourable
post."

"This honourable post has still continued to him;
and it was his duty to march forward, with the cool
determination of a true Highlander, stimulating his
companions to heroic deeds by the sound of the
Piohaireachd of his country."

To name half the good marching tunes written
would occupy several pages ; nor is there any need
to do so, as their pre-eminent fitness is unchallenged.

I take leave, however, to quote from an unsigned
article in Chambers' s Journal, which appeared several
years ago, and which bears independent testimony,
in graceful language, to the effect produced by the
sound of the Pipes : —

"It is not assuming too much," the writer says,
" to claim for Highland music that it has produced
tunes more eminently fitted for marching than the
music of any other nation. Most of us, at some
time or another, have come across a Highland
regiment on the march. Who does not know the
roll of the distant drums? and, mingling with it,
that prolonged drone which gradually resolves itself
into some old familiar tune. To the Scotsman,
there is never any mistaking that sound; and though
we may be nineteenth century individuals, with tall
hats and black coats, we cannot help going just a
little way, and keeping step also. The pulse beats

424 SOME REMINISCENCES

just a Itttle quicker, and, despite all cheap sneers,
the memory of a thousand years is a little more real
than might have been expected. If an impartial
observer should take such an occasion as this, he
will notice that there is a swing and a go about
a Highland regiment quite peculiar to itself, and
due, in great measure, to the music of the Pipes.
It is a something born of the music, hard to account
for, but nevertheless, very apparent."

I think, then, that Spenser's shepherd in the
sixteenth century, had good reason to mourn over
his " sweete-sounding " Pype ; and every true critic
must admit that there is "a something" in Bagpipe
music, which the enlightened twentieth century would
be all the poorer without.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

CAN THE BAGPIPE SPEAK ?

" The sweet ballad of the Lincolnshire Bagpipes." — (1590).

— "Three Lords and Three Ladies of London."

'T^HIS raises the whole question of " prooramme "
music. Can any instrument speak, in the sense
of telling a story ? The old classicists were content
to appeal to the feelings in their works.

" Form " was everything with them. Each piece
was built up according to rule, just as a house
or a ship is built. Beethoven, in his " Pastoral
Symphony," was among the first musicians of note
to disregard the rules — to break away from rigid
"form" — but he never professed to make music tell
a story. He still insisted that his music appealed
only to the feelings.

Since his day, however, men have gone a great
deal farther, and profess to be able to write music
up to a story. A " programme " takes the place in
modern music of "form" in the old; but these
authors take good care that the audience is supplied
with the written programme — the word story — by
means of which only it is expected to struggle

426 SOME REMINISCENCES

bravely along — in the rear, possibly, but still keep-
ing in touch with the music.

Richard Strauss has gone one better still, and in-
sists that music can speak with an unmistakable
voice, and needs no word story. This is "pro-
gramme " music.

It is no new claim that Strauss makes. Longf
before the days of Wagner, Berlioz, or Strauss, the
Highlander foolishly made the same claim on behalf
of Pipe music, and got sneered at for his pains.

Many stories were told, and believed, in the old
days, of how the piper, in an impromptu^ warned
his friends of danger ; told the numbers and dis-
position of the enemy ; pointed out the ambush, or
indicated the weak spot in the defence.

The great masters in piping, however, never
adventured beyond the classical Piobroch ; never
attempted to do anything more than appeal to the
feelings. With them "form" was everything.

The Piobroch is built upon a plan so definite —
so inv^ariable in its form — that, given the theme,
groundwork, or ^'' urlar" any good piper with a
knowledge of Pipe music, can build up and perfect
the tune.

Descriptive music, such as " The Desperate
Battle," '' Au Daoroch Mhor," "The Weighing of
the Ship," — where sounds and movements are imi-
tated— there is in plenty ; but "programme" music
on the Pipe there never has been. The genius of
the old masters, the MacCrimmons, and others, recog-
nised the limits of the Bagpipe, and judiciously

AND THE BAGPIPE. 427

kept within these ; and so the music suited the
instrument admirably. The "programme" school
of to-day will also sooner or later have to acknow-
ledge the limits of instrumentalisation, and the
limits of music, and acknowledge that the "story"
is not within these limits.

In a very interesting article on the orchestral
concert given by Herr Richard Strauss in Edin-
burgh, on December 22nd, 1902, the Scotsman asks,
is the "programme" really necessary, and does it
not reduce the divine art "to the level of the orna-
mental border which often decorates the printed
verses of our exquisite poets.

" Richard Strauss is really trying to succeed at
the very game in which Berlioz magnificently failed.

" Berlioz, in his ' Episode from the Life of an
Artist,' had thrown down the gauntlet to the classi-
cists. ' Here,' he said, ' is a story ; here is a pro-
gramme, and I shall write up to it.' A young
artist, imaginative and sensitive, is in love, and the
first movement represents his pilgrimage of passion.
In the second movement he wanders a-field (literally)
and, amidst shepherds' pipes and thunderstorms,
communes with Nature. Next he is in a ball-room,
watching the dancers, and eating out his own
heart. Finally, in a fit of despair, he poisons him-
self with opium ; but, instead of dying, he falls
into a De Quincey swoon, in which he dreams
that he has killed his mistress, and witnesses the
fall of the guillotine on his own neck. Then comes
a horrible orgie of witches and demons, who dance

428 SOME REMINISCENCES

round his coffin, and the whole mad medley ends
with a mock ' Dies Irce,' delivered by all the gibber-
ing fiends of hell. ' All this,' says Berlioz, * I will
say in music' But strange and moving as the music
is, no one would ever be able to interpret it unless
Berlioz's own word story were before him. The
music itself may seem clever and appropriate, when
joined with the 'programme'; without the story it
is only a mass of condensed sound, alluring, terrify-
ing, astonishing, yet without form, and void.''

This is severe criticism, but none the less true.
Programme music is a failure, and the story in
music must for ever remain untold.

Keeping always before us, then, the limits of the
Bagpipe scale, and the limits of music itself, I think
it may be said that the Bagpipe can speak as well,
at least, as any other instrument, and is understood
by the Highlander better than any other, because it
has been his one instrument in the past.

For my own part, I doubt much whether any kind
of music will ever be able to tell a story unaided.

Music, telling its story — a simple love story, say
— to twenty experts, would receive exactly twenty
different interpretations ; and these would all differ
(in the details) from the intended story.

Music can express, in a general way, the coarser
feelings of joy and sorrow, as in the '* Wedding
March" of Mendelssohn, and the "Dead March"
from Saul; of war and love, as in the "March
of the Men of Harlech," and " My Love is like a
red, red Rose."

AND THE BAGPIPE. 429

But the finer gradations of feeling, and the
ordinary events of the day, which, combined, go
to make up a man's life, can never be so clearly
expressed by music alone that the average m.an
can read there the story as in an open book.

Under the above limitations, the Bagpipe speaks
to the Highlander with no uncertain voice.

Old associations, of course, have much to do with
this gift of being able to read a meaning into Pipe
music.

The sounds which filled the child's ear as it lay
nestling in its mother's arms, and enlivened the
spare moments of his boyhood's days, and cheered
his spirits when he drew his virgin sword on the
field of battle, could hardly fail to have a special
meaning for him in his old age, or to be under-
stood of him ; but beyond this, there is no speech
in the Bagpipe.

I would close this book, which is already too
long, with a story — "a poor thing, but all mine
own," in which, perchance, an answer may be
found to the question put at the head of this
chapter, "Can the Bagpipe Speak?"

One glorious afternoon in September, 1902, I
stood inside the old castle of Inverlochy — my
daughter for company. It was only natural that the
historic pile should revive memories of the stirring
days of old, and I thought of Donald Balloch of
the Isles, with his regal ways, ''Ego Donaldiis Rex
Insiiloram''' ; of Lochiel, the dark; and Montrose,
the brave boy-soldier ; and Argyll, the grim, the

430 • SOME REMINISCENCES

pusillanimous; of Ian Lorn, the " Bard," and of his
answer as he stood on the battlements of the old
castle with his leader, watching the battle of Inver-
lochy, as it raged down by the river side.

Ian was asked by Montrose why he did not join
in the fray?

"And if I did fight, and were killed to-day, who
would sing your praises to-morrow?"

Was it not a good answer for the royal bard to
give? It might not sound well, coming from the
lips of a coward, but Ian Lom — bard though he was
— was a fine swordsman, and had proved his courage
in a hundred previous fights.

The whole scene rose in imagination before my
eyes as the old tune rang out, and I could see
the great soldier smile as he put the question to
Ian, the question that would have been a deadly
insult to any other Highlander. Now, Montrose
was the last man in the world to hurt the High-
landers' feelings, but he knew the bravery of the
man he was speaking to ; moreover, his practised
eye saw that the battle was practically decided
before he spoke. Argyll had taken to his galley,
and his rowers waited with oars poised ready for
flight ; and the Argyll men, brave as they vv^ere,
deserted by their leader, lost heart and were already
as good as beaten. So that lan's aid was not
needed when Montrose spoke, and both men knew
this ; it did not require a soldier's eye to see that
Argyll was beaten. And so, when Ian Lom, look-
ing up into his leader's face, saw the quiet smile

AND THE BAGPIPE. 43I

playing round the beautiful mouth, and the spirit of
gentle humour looking out of that eagle eye, he
jested lightly in reply, "And if I did fight and
were killed to-day, who would sing your praises
to-morrow ? "

It was in such a mood, as the above thoughts
suggested, that I took up my Pipe and played
"The Battle of Inverlochy." Soon I had quite a
little gathering inside the old walls listening to my
piping. First came some children from the neigh-
bouring cottages. These were soon joined by the
workers on a farm close by ; the milkmaid left her
cows, the herd his cattle, the ploughman his team.
As I played, I could swear that other players in-
visible played along with me ; from every corner
came a different echo, until the warm air within
the great square vibrated and danced to the
measure.

When I had finished, I said to the oldest person
present: "This is a fine old place"; "Yes, and a
fine old tune with the sound of the battle in it,"
was his answer.

"You knew the tune, then?" I asked.

"That I did," he answered promptly.

"I heard it out yonder," pointing to the field by
the river, "and knew it in a minute."

My Pipe spoke to the listener out in the meadow,
and this ploughman, I could see by his face, got
out of, or should I say read into, the music the
old story of the battle of Inverlochy.

This is how the Pipe spoke to the Highlanders

432 SOME REMINISCENCES

in the old days. It is in this way that the Bag-
pipe voices the feelings of the Highlander better
than any other instrument, and because of this it
may be said to speak. It is the instrument of rude
wild nature, and interprets the elemental passions —
if I may so call them — of human nature, in a way
that no modern instrument with its refinement and
niceties of scale can ever attempt.

And in the old days, when the Pipe was the
one solace of the Highlander in his leisure hours,
and down in the glen. Pipe-call answered to Pipe-
call the long summer day through ; and when every
clan had its own distinctive clan tunes ; and when
nearly every man was a player — piping being con-
tagious in the Highlands in those days — and when
every tune had a history, I have no doubt that the
language of the Pipe was a verity to the old High-
lander, and was understood by him almost as well
as was his mother-tongue — rousing him to a sense
of danger, or lulling him into a happy security ;
reminding him continually of the brave deeds of
his forefathers, and thus keeping alive within his
breast a strong sense of emulation ; speaking with
no uncertain voice of love and hate ; of joy and
sorrow ; of revenge and death ; and after death, of
the reunion with his forefathers, whose spirits hovered
near — watchful, silent, sympathetic.

FINIS.

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