The Highland Bagpipe
[Illustration:
“THE CORONACH”
(_From the Painting by R. R. Mac Ian_)
]
The Highland Bagpipe
Its History, Literature, and Music
WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF THE
Traditions, Superstitions, and Anecdotes
Relating to
The Instrument and Its Tunes
BY
W. L. MANSON
_The tune with the river in it, the fast river and the courageous, that
kens not stop nor tarry, that runs round rock and over fall with a good
humour, yet no mood for anything but the way before it._—NEIL MUNRO.
ALEXANDER GARDNER
Publisher to Her late Majesty Queen Victoria
PAISLEY; AND 26 PATERNOSTER SQUARE, LONDON
1901
TO
A. DEWAR WILLOCK
EDITOR OF THE
_Glasgow Weekly Herald_
WHO JUDICIOUSLY BLUE-PENCILLED THE
FIRST ISSUE OF THESE ARTICLES AND
ENCOURAGED THE WRITER TO GIVE THEM
TO THE PUBLIC IN THIS MORE
PERMANENT FORM
Preface.
This book was not written on a preconceived plan, drawn up from the
beginning of the work. It “growed.” It had its inception in a commission
to write for the _Weekly Herald_ half-a-dozen biographical articles on
famous pipers. The necessary investigation produced a mass of material
too interesting to be left unused, and the half-dozen articles of the
original commission became twenty-seven, with very little of the
biographical in them. These, after being finally recast, revised, and in
several cases re-written, are now in the form of a book flung at an
unoffending public. If the volume interests any one—well. If not—well.
There is nothing more to be said on that point.
It were vain to attempt to acknowledge indebtedness to books or to men.
Every available book bearing on the subject even in the most indirect
way has been consulted, in many cases read. A great deal of the material
used is of course common to all Highland literature, and one book cannot
be quoted more than another. With men it is equally impracticable to
give names. So many have helped, so many have written giving additional
bits of information or suggesting improvements, so many have, in reply
to requests, kindly supplied matter dealing with phases of the subject
on which they have intimate knowledge, that one could not do justice to
all without naming all. Still, while this may not be done, I cannot
possibly refrain from saying that without the assistance given by Mr.
Henry Whyte (“Fionn”) in matters of Highland history and questions
connected with the Gaelic language, the book could hardly have been
published; while Mr. John Mac Kay, editor of the _Celtic Monthly_, in
throwing open to me his valuable library of Celtic literature, did very
much to lighten my labours. This, I think, is all I can safely say. If I
said more, I would have to say so very much.
W. L. M.
GLASGOW, _April 27, 1901_.
Contents.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.—TUNING UP, 9
“A Hundred Pipers”—Scotland becoming Cosmopolitan—The War spirit of the
Pipes—Regiments, not Clans—Annual Gatherings—Adaptability of Pipes—
Scots folk from Home—An aged Enthusiast—Highlands an Extraordinary
Study—Succession of Chiefs—Saxon introduced—Gaelic printed—Highlands
in 1603—The Mac Neills of Barra—Highland hospitality.
CHAPTER II.—HARPERS, BARDS, AND PIPERS, 18
Ancient musical instruments—Priestly harpers—Hereditary harpers—Irish
_versus_ Scottish harpers—Royal harpers—Use of harp universal—Welsh
sarcasm—Mary Queen of Scots’ harp—The last of the harpers—“The Harper
of Mull”—From harp to pipes—The _clarsach_—Pipes supplanting bards—
The last clan bard—Bardic customs—Bards’ jealousy of pipes—The bard
in battle—Duncan Ban Mac Intyre—Two pipers scared—When the pipes
became paramount—The fiery cross—The coronach.
CHAPTER III.—THE TALE OF THE YEARS, 30
The time of the Flood—Pipes in Scripture—In Persia—In Arabia—In Tarsus—
Tradition of the Nativity—In Rome—In Greece—In Wales, Ireland, and
Scotland—Melrose Abbey—In France—In England—At Bannockburn—Chaucer—In
war—First authentic Scottish reference—Oldest authentic specimen—
Became general—Rosslyn Chapel—Second drone added—At Flodden—“A maske
of bagpypes”—Spenser—Shakespeare—James VI.—A poetical historian—Big
drone added—The ’45—Native to Scotland—The evolution of the
Highlands.
CHAPTER IV.—THE MAKE OF THE PIPES, 59
The “Encyclopædia” definition—The simple reed—Early forms—Simple
bagpipes—The chorus—The _volynka_—Continental pipes—British pipes—The
Northumbrian—The Irish—The Highland—Tuning—Modern pipes—Prize pipes.
CHAPTER V.—WITH AN EAR TO THE DRONE, 73
Dr. Johnson—Inspiration of Scottish music—Professor Blackie—Highland
music simple—Scottish airs once Highland—Age of Highland music—
Capability of the bagpipe—How it has suffered—Peculiarities of the
pibroch—Pipe music not fitted for inside—How it troubled the
pressman—Chevalier Neukomm—Professor Blackie again—A Chicago jury’s
opinion—An ode to the pipes.
CHAPTER VI.—THE “LANGUAGE” OF THE PIPES, 87
Have the pipes a language?—A wild, fanciful notion—How it got a hold—
How much of it is true?—The reed actually speaking—A powerful
influence—The power of association—Neil Munro—Descriptive Highland
airs—_A Cholla mo run_—Military stories—In South Africa—An
enthusiastic war correspondent.
CHAPTER VII.—THE LITERATURE OF THE PIPES, 98
Ancient music lost—Transmission by tradition—Druidical remains—Systems
of teaching—No books—“Unintelligible jargon”—_Canntaireachd_—The Mac
Crimmon System—The Gesto Book—A scientific system—A tune in
_Canntaireachd_—Pipers unable to explain—Earliest printed pipe music—
Mac Donald’s Books—More recent books—Something to be done.
CHAPTER VIII.—THE PIPES IN BATTLE, 113
A Culloden incident—Ancient Celts in battle—The harper and bard
superseded—First mention of pipes in battle—First regimental pipers—
In the navy—Prince Charlie’s pipers—An “instrument of war”—A Mac
Crimmon incident—Power of pipes in battle—A Magersfontein incident—
Byron’s tribute—Position in actual battle.
CHAPTER IX.—THE PIPER AS A HERO, 126
One cowardly piper—At Philiphaugh—At Bothwell Bridge—At Cromdale—The
Peninsular War—At Waterloo—At Dargai—Reay Country pipers—At Candahar—
At Lucknow—In America—In Ashanti—In the Soudan—In South Africa.
CHAPTER X.—THE REGIMENTAL PIPER, 136
Preserving the pipes—Regimental bands—Pay of army pipers—The seven
pipers of Falkirk—Duties of regimental pipers—The meaning of
“Retreat”—A story of Napoleon—In a social capacity—An army wedding—A
military funeral—At the officers’ mess—Awkward incidents—
“Boberechims.”
CHAPTER XI.—THE PIPER AS A MAN OF PEACE, 146
Clan pipers—Chief’s retinue—At weddings—Pipers prohibited—In sorrow—At
funerals—Queen Victoria’s funeral—To lighten labour—The harvest
dance—The shepherd’s pipe—In church architecture—In church services—
As a call to church—Ministers and the pipes—Falling into disrepute—
“As proud as a piper”—Jealousy of the old masters—“As fou as a
piper”—An Irish piper.
CHAPTER XII.—THE BURGH PIPERS OF SCOTLAND, 168
Royal pipers—In France—At the English court—The Edinburgh Piper—
Dumbarton—Biggar—Wigtown—Glenluce—Dumfries—Linlithgow—Aberdeen—Perth—
Keith—Dalkeith—Dundee—Peebles—A weird story—Falkirk—“Gallowshiels”
pipers’ combat—The Hasties of Jedburgh—Habbie Simson of Kilbarchan—
Bridgeton—Neil Blane of Lanark—The Piper of Northumberland.
CHAPTER XIII.—FROM THE SEAT OF THE SCORNER, 192
Poking fun at the pipes—English caricature—Mixed metaphor—Churchism and
pipes—Fifteenth century satire—A biographical sneer—Thackeray—Bitter
English writers—Testimony of a Jew—Home sarcasm—The bards—Joanna
Baillie—A Frenchman’s opinion—William Black—Ignorance breaking its
shins—Imported sportsmen—The duty of Highlanders.
CHAPTER XIV.—THE HUMOUR OF THE PIPES, 205
_Punch’s_ joke—King Charles’s heads—An amusing competition—A
Highlander’s Irishism—Wedding experiences—A piper’s fall—A
resourceful piper—A Cameron piper and his officer—Lochaber no more—An
elephant’s objection—Embarked in a tub—Glasgow street scene—Bad
player’s strategy—What the wind did—A new kind of tripe—A Pasha and a
piper—A Gordon nervous—A jealous piper—Dougal Mac Dougal’s downfall.
CHAPTER XV.—DEMONIAC PIPES AND PIPERS, 223
Tam o’ Shanter—The Devil’s favourite instrument—“Sorcerers” burned—A
bard’s satire—Glasgow Cathedral story—A Hebridean Tam o’ Shanter—
Continental ideas—Reformation zeal—Ghostly pipers—A “changeling”
piper—_The Lost Pibroch_—The Chisholm “enchanted” pipes—The Black
Chanter of Clan Chattan.
CHAPTER XVI.—PIPERS AND FAIRIES, 233
In fairies’ hillocks—Stories with a common origin—Sutherlandshire
version—Away for a year—Harris piper and the fairies—Seven years
away—Fairies helping pipers—Helping the Mac Crimmons—A boy piper—How
the music went from Islay to Skye—Faust-like bargains—A Caithness
story—A fairy piper.
CHAPTER XVII.—PIPERS IN ENCHANTED CAVES, 247
Allied to fairy stories—Venturesome pipers—The Skye cave—The Mull
version—The Argyllshire—The Ghostly piper of Dunderave—“Wandering
Willie’s Tale”—A Sutherlandshire cave—A Caithness cave—Underground
passages.
CHAPTER XVIII.—THE HEREDITARY PIPERS, 257
Hereditary in two senses—When they ceased—The Mac Crimmons—A
traditional genealogy—A Mac Gregor tradition—The Mac Crimmon College—
Dr. Johnson—College broken up—An Irish college—Its system—A Mac
Crimmon’s escapades—Respect for the Mac Crimmons—The Rout of Moy—The
last of the race—How they excelled—The Mac Arthurs—The Mac Intyres—
The Mac Kays—The Rankins—The Campbells—The Mac Gregors.
CHAPTER XIX.—SOME LATTER DAY PIPERS, 276
Angus Mac Kay—Queen Victoria’s first piper—His book—Donald Mac Kay—John
Bane Mac Kenzie—The Queen’s offer—The piper’s reply—Donald Cameron—
His achievements—His theory of pipe music—His system of noting—His
last competition—A special reed—“The King of Pipers”—Other latter day
pipers.
CHAPTER XX.—HOW PIPING IS PRESERVED, 287
The waking—Professor Blackie—Highland Society of Scotland—Highland
Society of London—The system of competitions—The first competition—
The venue changed—The gold medal—Present day competitions—Some
suggestions—R.L.S.—Pipe bands—Examples from high life—Quality of
music—The pipes abroad—Sir Walter Scott.
CHAPTER XXI.—THE OLDEST PIPE TUNES, 299
Unreliability of tradition—Lost in antiquity—Occasions of tunes—
Interest of stories—The Mac Raes’ March—Story of “Suarachan”—Hal o’
the Wynd—The Mac Intosh’s Lament—Two different stories—_A Cholla mo
run_—Duntroon’s Salute—The Campbells are coming.
CHAPTER XXII.—SOME WORLD-FAMOUS PIBROCHS, 314
Mac Crimmon’s Lament—Best known of all pipe tunes—Its story—Blackie’s
poetry—Scott’s—The war tune of Glengarry—A tragic story—The Pibroch
o’ Donuil Dhu—Too long in this Condition—Pipers and inhospitality—Oh,
that I had three hands—Lochaber no More—Allan Ramsay’s verses—An
elated Mac Crimmon—Rory _Mòr’s_ Lament—Clan Farlane Pibroch—Pipers,
poetry, and superstition.
CHAPTER XXIII.—SOME WELL-KNOWN GATHERINGS, 335
A Tune with four stories—The Carles wi’ the Breeks—The Mac Gregor’s
Gathering—Scott’s verses—_Caber Feidh_—The Camerons’ Gathering—Well-
matched chiefs—The Loch of the Sword.
CHAPTER XXIV.—MORE STORIES AND A MORAL, 346
The Clan Stewart March—Mac Gregor of Ruaro—The Braes of the Mist—
Episode at a Dunvegan competition—A Mac Crimmon surpassed—Mac
Pherson’s Lament—Burns and the story—Rob Roy’s Lament—The Mac
Lachlans’ March—_Gille Calum_—The Reel o’ Tulloch—The Periwig Reel—
Jenny Dang the Weaver—Mac Donald’s Salute—Mac Leod’s Salute—
Disappearing lore—What might be done.
APPENDIX.
THE SCALE OF THE PIPES, 369
PRACTICAL HINTS, 375
BIBLIOGRAPHY OF PIPE MUSIC, 383
GOLD MEDALLISTS OF HIGHLAND SOCIETY OF LONDON, 388
DIRECTORY OF BAGPIPE MAKERS, 392
THE LARGEST KNOWN LIST OF PIBROCHS, 393
THE GARB OF OLD GAUL, 400
INDEX, 411
Illustrations.
PAGE
FROM ST. MARTIN’S CROSS, IONA, _On Cover_.
“THE CORONACH,” _Frontispiece_.
HARPER: ON A STONE AT MONIFEITH, 19
CONTORNIATE OF NERO’S TIME, 33
CARVINGS IN MELROSE ABBEY, 37
THE OLDEST EXISTING PIPES, 43
CARVINGS IN ROSSLYN CHAPEL, 45
GERMAN PIPER OF THE 16TH CENTURY, 47
OLD GERMAN WIND INSTRUMENTS, 61
THE NORTHUMBRIAN BAGPIPE, 65
THE IRISH BAGPIPE, 67
THE GREAT HIGHLAND BAGPIPE, 69
CAPT. NEIL MAC LEOD OF GESTO, 103
DANCING TO PIPE MUSIC, 149
A HIGHLAND FAMILY PARTY, 151
LOWLAND, HIGHLAND, AND IRISH PIPERS, 169
“THE SPIRIT OF THE PIPES,” 193
A PICTURE FROM _PUNCH_, 204
“THE DANCE OF DEATH,” 225
THE CAVE OF GOLD, _to face_ 247
A MAC CRIMMON PIPER, 259
A MAC ARTHUR PIPER, _to face_ 269
ANGUS MAC KAY, „ 276
JOHN BANE MAC KENZIE, „ 278
DONALD CAMERON, „ 280
SUTHERLAND VOLUNTEER BAND, „ 287
GOVAN POLICE BAND, „ 294
The Highland Bagpipe.
CHAPTER I.
TUNING UP.
“I have power, high power for freedom,
To wake the burning soul;
I have sonnets that through the ancient hills,
Like a torrent’s voice might roll;
I have pealing notes of victory,
That might welcome kings from war;
I have rich deep tones to send the wail,
For a hero’s death afar.”
“A Hundred Pipers”—Scotland becoming Cosmopolitan—The War spirit of
the Pipes—Regiments, not Clans—Annual Gatherings—Adaptability of
Pipes—Scotch folk from Home—An aged Enthusiast—Highlands an
Extraordinary Study—Succession of Chiefs—Saxon introduced—Gaelic
printed—Highlands in 1603—The Mac Neills of Barra—Highland
hospitality.
“Wi’ a Hundred Pipers an’ a’ an’ a’” is a song that catches on with
Highland people as well now as in the days when the piper was a power in
the land. There is a never ending charm about the pipes, and there is a
never ending swing about the song of the hundred pipers, that stirs the
blood of the true-born Celt, and makes him applaud vigorously in rhythm
with the swing of the chorus. But it is because the song harks back to
the time when one good piper was a man to be revered, and a hundred in
one place a gathering to be dreaded—if they were all there of one
accord—that it continues to hold its own. It expresses something of the
grandeur that was attached to the national music, when the clan piper
was second only to the chief in importance, and the pibroch as much a
part of the clan life as the fiery cross, so it is accepted as the one
outstanding bit of song that helps to keep alive the traditional glory
of the Great Highland Bagpipe. Not that there is any immediate danger of
that glory fading. It is but changing in character. Scotland has become
cosmopolitan, and the fastnesses of the Highlands are no longer the
retreats of wild cateran clans, whose peculiar habits and primitive
ideas of social life helped to bind them together with ties of family
strength, and at the same time to keep them unspotted from the Lowland
and outside world that knew not the Gaelic and the tartan and the pipes.
The _Piob Mohr_ is not now an agency to be reckoned with by any one who
wishes to explore the hills and glens, neither are there any little wars
in Lorn or elsewhere, in which it can have an opportunity of leading Mac
against Mac, or clan against clan. As a Highland war spirit, its glory
has departed, and he would be a bold man who would say he was sorry for
it. True, the Highland regiments who fight Britain’s battles abroad
still wear the tartan and march to the same old strains, but they are
not now Highland clans. They are British battalions, whose empire,
instead of being bounded by the horizon of a Scottish glen, is
worldwide, and they march and wheel, and charge the enemy and storm the
heights in strict accordance with the orders of a general who has his
orders from Westminster. The only gathering of the clans we have
nowadays are the gatherings in the halls of our big cities, where a
thousand or two of people bearing a common name meet under the
presidency of the next-of-kin of the chief of olden times, and drink,
not mountain dew, but tea, and have Highland or Jacobite songs sung to
them by people whose profession is singing, and applaud dancers and
pipers who dance and pipe because it pays them to do so. This is very
far removed from the time when the _Piob Mohr_ was in the zenith of its
power, though when one gets enthused with the atmosphere of such a
meeting, and forgets the slushy streets outside, and the telegraph and
the railway, and other nineteenth century things that have made the
Highlands impossible, the song of the hundred pipers is quite sufficient
to make the blood course quicker, and to translate one for a moment to
other scenes and other times. But it is only for a moment. The prosaic
present comes back with a reality that will not be denied, and one
remembers with a sigh that the song is but a sentiment, and that never
more will the gathering cries of the clans re-echo through the glens,
the fiery cross pass from hand to hand, or the peal of the pibroch ring
from clachan to clachan in a wild cry to arms.
As an inspiration to the clansmen the bagpipe is no more, but it remains
an integral part of Scottish life and character. It is one of the
peculiarities of the instrument that it adapts itself to circumstances.
When that phase of life in which it was born and brought up, as it were,
passed away, it quietly but firmly declined to be moved into the
background. There is something of the stubbornness of the old reivers
about it, and just as the Highlander in his times of greatest adversity
stuck to his pipes, so the pipes seem determined to stick to the
Highlanders in spite of the tendencies of latter-day civilisation. The
love of the Highlander for his pipes is too deep-rooted to vanish simply
because circumstances change. When Rob Roy lay a-dying, and when an old
enemy came to see him, he had himself decked out in his plaid and
claymore, and when the interview was over, “Now,” said he, “let the
piper play _Cha til ma tulidh_,” and he died before the dirge was
finished. That spirit has lived through the many changes that have taken
place since Rob Roy’s day, and it lives in a modified form now. Nothing
will make a Scottish audience, especially a Scottish audience far from
home, cheer as the pipes will, and no sound is so welcome at an open-air
gathering, or to the wandered Scotchman, as the wild notes of the
national instrument. In the preface to one collection of Highland music
we are told of a well-known Edinburgh man, discreetly referred to as “W—
— B——, Esq.,” who was at the time the most exquisite violinist in
Scotland. Even at the venerable age of eighty-three, whenever he heard
the sound of the pipes he hastened to the place, and after giving the
itinerant player a handsome reward, he withdrew to a passage or common
stair near by and had what he called “a wee bit dance to himsel’.” This
does not seem a very wonderful proceeding, though the story applies to
about forty years ago, for even now many a Highlander if he is in
anything like a private place, will begin to “Hooch” and dance if he
should happen to hear the pipes. He would never think of dancing to any
other music—other music is foolishness unto him. Many things may and
will change, but it is hardly possible to imagine circumstances which
could dislodge pipe music from its honoured place as the national music
of Scotland.
The preservation of the Gaelic, the kilt, and the pipes is the most
notable feature in Highland history. Without his tartan, his language,
and his music, the Gael would be only “A naked Pict, meagre and pale,
the ghost of what he was.” But he has kept these, his distinguishing
characteristics, and the Scottish Highlands of to-day is one of the most
extraordinary studies in Europe, retaining as it does a language the
most ancient, and the customs and music which distinguished it in ages
the most remote, in spite of circumstances which might have proved too
much for any social system whatever. The nature of the country did much
to perpetuate these things. It was hilly, and, in the old days,
inaccessible; the wants of the people were supplied among themselves,
their manners were simple and patriarchal, and they had little
intercourse with strangers except through trading in cattle and an
occasional foray into the low country. So a spirit of independence and
jealous pride of ancestry was cultivated, and in tradition, song, and
music, the exploits of their forbears were celebrated. All this went to
make Celtic Scotland a nation by itself, and its people a peculiar
people. There is nothing in the political history of any country so
remarkable as the succession of the Highland chiefs and the long and
uninterrupted sway they held over their followers.
Somewhere about 1066 Malcolm Canmore removed his court from Iona to
Dunfermline and introduced the Saxon language, and about 1270 Gaelic was
entirely superseded in the Lowlands. Latin was used in all publications,
and there were not many who could read what few books there were. Gaelic
was not printed till 1567, centuries after it had ceased to be the
language of the court or of “society.” Then a book of John Knox’s was
issued in Gaelic, but it was 1767 before the New Testament appeared in
the Celtic tongue. When it did ten thousand copies were sold. There was,
of course, a vast store of poetry and literature floating around in the
minds of the people, passed down from generation to generation; but,
with the exception of two small collections, one by Rev. John
Farquharson of Strathglass in 1571, and the other by Alexander Mac
Donald, Ardnamurchan, about eight years later, it had all to wait until
1759, when James Mac Pherson, the collector of Ossianic poetry, compiled
or wrote (whether he compiled or wrote it is too delicate a matter to
express a definite opinion about in this place) the classics of the
Highlands. In spite of all these disadvantages, perhaps by reason of
them, the Highlands remained the Highlands until the beginning of the
present century. The many years of tribal warfare and of warfare with
other peoples, did not destroy the individuality of the race, it was the
slow civilising process of later ages that made the Highlands less a
distinct nation than a province of the big British Empire.
Of the circumstances in the midst of which the pipes and pipe music
first got a hold on the affections of the Highland people we know but
little. There were harpers before there were pipers, and probably bards
before there were harpers, but these did not record contemporary history
or the traditions of their age with any degree of fulness or accuracy,
if indeed they can be said to have recorded anything at all who only
told the next generation what they had heard from the previous. Writing
in 1603 a traveller says of the Highlanders:—
“They delight much in musicke, but chiefly in harps and clairschoes of
their own fashion. The strings of the clairschoes are made of brass
wire, and the strings of the harps of sinews, which strings they
strike either with their nayles growing long, or else with an
instrument appoynted for that use. They take great pleasure to deck
their harps and clairschoes with silver and precious stones; the poore
ones that cannot attayne hereunto decke them with christall. They sing
verses prettily compound, containing (for the most part) prayses of
valiant men. There is not almost any other argument whereof their
rymes intreat. They speak the ancient French language, altered a
little.”
As to the country itself, it was a mysterious, unknown land to all but
the native. Ancient historians puzzled over its mystery, but could not
fathom it. So they wrote under the shadow of the mysterious. Procopius,
a Greek writer who flourished about A.D. 530, and wrote of the Roman
Empire, speaking about the Highlands, says:—
“In the west, beyond the wall (Antoninus’ Wall), the air is infectious
and mortal, the ground is covered with serpents, and this dreary
solitude is the region of departed spirits, who are translated from
the opposite shores in substantial boats, and by living rowers. Some
families of fishermen are excused from tribute in consideration of the
mysterious office which is performed by these Charons of the ocean.
Each in his turn is summoned at the hour of midnight to hear the
voices and even the names of the ghosts, he is sensible of their
weight, and feels impelled by an unknown but irresistible power.”
Now we know how it was that the Romans could not conquer the Highlands.
But we also know that the Highlanders were not, when the Romans came,
the ignorant barbarians they are represented to have been, for Cæsar
ascertained from them that the coast line of Britain was two thousand
miles in length, an estimate not so very wide of the mark.
We are told by one fourteenth century historian that “In Scotland ye
shall find no man lightly of honour or gentleness, they be like wyld and
savage people;” and by another that “as to their faith and promise, they
hold it with great constancie,” statements which are not at all
contradictory. The once prevalent idea that a Highland chief was an
ignorant and unprincipled tyrant who rewarded the abject submission of
his followers with relentless cruelty and oppression was entirely
erroneous. He might be naturally ferocious or naturally weak, but in
either case the tribal system curbed excess, for the chief men of the
clan were his advisers, and without their approval he seldom decided on
extreme measures. But though the sway of the chiefs was thus mild in
practice, it was arbitrary, and they themselves were proud of their lot,
their lands, and their dependents. It is related of the lairds of Barra,
who belonged to one of the oldest and least-mixed septs in the
Highlands, that as soon as the family had dined it was customary for a
herald to sound a horn from the battlements on the castle tower,
proclaiming aloud in Gaelic, “Hear, oh! ye people! and listen, oh! ye
nations! The great Mac Neill of Barra having finished his meal, the
princes of the earth may dine.”
The peasantry of the Highlands were always noted for their hospitality.
“I have wandered,” says Mr. J. F. Campbell of Islay, than whom none knew
the Highlands better, “among the peasantry of many countries, and this
trip through the Highlands has but confirmed my old impressions. The
poorest Highlander is ever readiest to share the best he has with the
stranger. A kind word is never thrown away, and whatever may be the
faults of this people, I have never found a boor or a churl in a
Highland bothy.” Besides, the ancient Gaels were very fond of music,
whether in a merry or a sad humour. “It was,” says Bacon, “a sure sign
of brewing mischief when a Caledonian warrior was heard to hum his surly
song.” They accompanied most of their labours with music, either vocal
or that of the harp, and it was among these chiefs and these people that
the national music of Scotland took its rise. It is a matter of regret
that its wild strains are now more frequently heard amid Canadian woods
and on Australian plains than in the land where it was cradled.
[Illustration]