It is outwith the scope of this article to deal with the MacCrimmon genealogy, or to discuss in detail the different members of the family. Interesting notes might be furnished concerning most of the men whose names are enumerated above, and it might not be difficult for a skilled player of pibroch, by a careful analysis of the MacCrimmon compositions, to assign many of the extant compositions to the appropriate composers. I prefer to gather together from the available sources known to me a few incidents in the lives of three outstanding members of the family, Donald Mór, Patrick Mór and Donald Bàn.

DONALD MÓR MACCRIMMON

We shall probably not be very far wrong if we regard the period during which this piper lived as that embracing the concluding years of the sixteenth century and the early years of the seventeenth. I realise that, in so placing him, I lay myself open to the criticism that I post-date the period of Patrick Mór's activities. Patrick Mór is regarded as the son of Donald Mór, and it is probable that both father and son were in the service of Sir Rory Mór. It is stated that, being a special favourite of his chief, Donald was sent to Ireland to complete his musical education. There can be little doubt that as Ireland was the early home of Celtic letters so she was the early home of musical culture, and that the high degree of efficiency attained by the MacCrimmons was, at least in part, due to the finishing touches obtained by them in the sister island. We learn that Donald Mór played before many of the nobility and gentry of the country and greatly distinguished himself. Mr. Ross has an interesting note that Donald accompanied his chief to Ireland in the reign of James VI., on the occasions when MacLeod led his clan in battle, and that about that time Donald composed "The Lament to the Earl of Antrim." Among the compositions attributed to him are "The Macdonald Salute," "Welcome to Rory Mór," and "The Salute of the Earl of Ross." Mr. Ross, whose knowledge of pibroch entitles him to speak with authority, states that close analysis of Donald Mór's compositions reveals the fact that he frequently used the lower notes of the chanter, and that there is internal evidence that he possessed great skill in changing from the low to the high notes.

PATRICK MÓR MACCRIMMON

It is generally agreed that Patrick succeeded Donald as hereditary piper to the MacLeods of Dunvegan. He is generally admitted to have been the most distinguished member of his race. His life was spent in the service of Sir Rory Mór MacLeod, who succeeded to the chiefship in 1596, and who died as stated in 1626. Under the protection of this powerful chief the practice of Piobaireachd received an impetus which is bearing fruit to-day. The Scottish Privy Council, at a comparatively early date, struck a severe blow at what was regarded as the despotic power of the chiefs by limiting the number of the retinue each chief was entitled to gather round him. An important member of that retinue was the person who held the office of hereditary piper. In addition to the honour such an office carried, there were certain material advantages e.g., the freeholding of land and the right to certain dues and liberties which were not lightly esteemed. As indicating the dignified nature of the office, it may be mentioned that, included in the chief's retinue, was the piper's man, whose duty it was to act as servant to the piper and to carry his instrument for him when not in use.

To Patrick Mór MacCrimmon is assigned the honour of having composed the largest number of pipe tunes. In the plaintive lament "Cumha na Cloinne" (Lament to the Children) he gives expression to his deep grief caused by the visitation of one of the most poignant afflictions known to man—the deaths of his children. According to Dr. MacLeod he was the father of eight stalwart sons. Proudly one Sabbath morning he and they marched to the church in their native glen. Before the close of that year he mourned the loss of all his sons who died in an epidemic of fever. Two other well-known laments, the composition of which is assigned to him, are, "The Lament to the only Son" and "The Lament to John Garbh MacGhille Chalum of Raasay," who was drowned in 1646 while crossing the Minch.

In 1651 Patrick Mór MacCrimmon was in all probability an old man, but not too old to accompany the clan in support of Charles II. At this time MacLeod of MacLeod was a minor, and the command of the clan devolved upon his uncles, Norman MacLeod of Bernera and Roderick MacLeod of Talisker. According to Angus Mackay's account, both these men were knighted by Charles II. before the battle of Worcester in 1651 and on that occasion, Patrick Mór having had the honour of playing before the King, and his performance having greatly pleased His Majesty, Patrick received the further honour of being allowed to kiss the King's hand. Mackay states that the well-known port, "Fhuaireas pog o spog an Righ," was composed by MacCrimmon in honour of the distinction then conferred upon him. Various accounts of this outstanding MacCrimmon honour have been published, no two of which entirely agree. Dr. William Mackay of Inverness has frequently rendered signal service in the department of Highland history, and I am indebted to his labours and scholarly research for what I regard as a complete elucidation of the circumstances surrounding the composition of this tune. Dr. Mackay edited The Chronicles of the Frasers, an old MS. of events embracing the period 1616-1674. There are many MS. histories bearing upon Highland matters, some of which have been fabricated, but no suggestion of falsification besmirches the reputation of this MS., which has been published under the auspices of The Scottish History Publication Society. Referring to the year 1651, the date of the battle of Worcester, the MS. states that at Stirling, in the month of May, "there was great competition betwixt the trumpets in the army; one Axell, the Earle of Hoome's trumpeter, carried it by the King's own decision. The next was anent the pipers; but the Earle of Sutherland's domestick carried it of all the camp, for non contended with him. All the pipers in the army gave John Macgurmen (MacCrimmon) the van, and acknowledged him for their patron in chief. It was pretty in a morning (the King) in parad viewing the regiments and bragads. He saw no less than eighty pipers in a crould, bare-headed, and John Macgurmen in the middle covered. He asked what society that was? It was told his Majesty—'Sir, yow are our King, and yonder old man in the middle is the Prince of Pipers.' He cald him by name and comeing to the king, kneeling, His Majesty reacht him his hand to kiss; and instantly played an extemporanean port, 'Fuoris Pooge i spoge i Rhi'—I got a kiss of the King's hand—of which he and they were all vain." The writer of the manuscript has made an attempt to render the Gaelic phonetically, and Mr. Mackay in a footnote gives the correct Gaelic spelling "Fhuaireas pog o spog an Righ."

DONALD BAN MACCRIMMON

MacLeod of Dunvegan, when Prince Charles Edward made his romantic if impossible attempt to seize the crown of his forefathers, declined to lend his services to the Prince, and consequently incurred the deep displeasure of many of his clansmen. Had he remained simply neutral, the resentment which his refusal to follow the Prince aroused would have been less bitter, but he openly supported the reigning house. Opinions differ as to which of two men, Malcolm MacCrimmon and Donald Ban MacCrimmon, held the office of hereditary piper, but most authorities agree that Donald Ban performed the duties of the office when MacLeod led out his men against the Prince. Many of the MacLeod men refused to follow their chief, and preferred to follow the standard of the Prince, under the leadership of the heads of cadet families sprung from the Dunvegan line. MacLeod's position was a difficult one. Had the Prince landed in Moidart with sufficient money, equipment and arms, MacLeod would probably have given him all the support within his power. It is persistently stated that his was one of the signatures to the document inviting the Prince to raise his standard in Scotland. In these circumstances it was necessary for MacLeod, by some overt act, to give practical evidence to the Government of his non-adherence to the Stuart cause. He was in close correspondence with, and being actively advised by, President Forbes, who realised the importance of securing the services of MacLeod, thereby lessening the likelihood of the Macdonalds of Skye joining the Prince's forces. MacLeod gathered around him a substantial body of men who held the lands in the vicinity of the castle, and led them from the castle to the shore, where boats waited to convey them to the mainland, and thence to the east of Scotland.

We are constantly reminded of the romance of the Forty-Five. We too often forget the dark tragedies of those days. The spectre of looming disaster entered the home of the MacCrimmons. Donald Ban MacCrimmon had heard the note of the Banshee presaging a journey from which for him there would be no returning. He was told to inspirit the men by the rousing strains of "MacLeod's March," but true to his hereditary instincts he could only play a port in harmony with the mood of the moment. In place of the "March" his pipes attuned themselves to that most touching of all laments, "Cumha Mhic Cruimein." The pages of the Brahan Seer do not contain any instance of second sight more circumstantially fulfilled than that concerning Donald Ban MacCrimmon. Contemporary history supplies us with the information. The scene is changed from Dunvegan Castle to Moy Hall, the residence of The Mackintosh, a few miles east of Inverness. In the absence of her husband, the wife of The Mackintosh, better known as "Lady Anne," kept a watchful eye, in the interests of the Prince, on the movements of his enemies. The Prince had accepted the hospitality of Moy Hall for the night. News reached "Lady Anne" that a body of men, under Lord Loudon, including MacLeod and his men, were to attempt to capture the Prince under the cover of night. "Donald Fraser, a blacksmith, and other four with loaded muskets in their hands were keeping watch upon a muir out some distance from Moy towards Inverness. As they were walking up and down they happened to spy a body of men marching towards them, upon which the blacksmith fired his piece and the other four followed his example. The laird of MacLeod's piper (reputed the best at his business in all Scotland) was shot dead on the spot. Then the blacksmith (Fraser) and his trusty companions raised a cry (calling some particular regiments by their names) to the Prince's army to advance, as if they had been at hand, which so far imposed upon Lord Loudon and his command (a pretty considerable one) and struck them with such a panic, that instantly they beat a retreat and made their way back to Inverness in great disorder, imagining the Prince's whole army to be at their heels."

Tradition states that Donald Ban's body was buried not far from the spot where he received his fatal wound, and I am informed that a large stone on the moor marks the place of interment.

THE HOMELAND OF THE MACCRIMMONS

Pipers throughout the world will probably welcome a short description of that part of Skye which will for all time be associated with the MacCrimmon family. We may safely assume that the lands of Galtrigal and Boreraig have undergone little physical change during the last 300 years. Standing on a lofty plateau, the MacCrimmon practice ground, we find ourselves in the centre of a district possessing great natural charm and an unparalled sea view. Dunvegan's ancient towers are a prominent landmark reminiscent of bloody feuds, when Macdonald and MacLeod, though connected by marriage, were continually at one anothers throats. Johnson, Boswell, Pennant and Sir Walter Scott all testify to the hospitality they received within its walls. Dun Boreraig, to the east, one of many interesting brochs on the island—silent witnesses to the strength and ingenuity of a past race—still keeps its sentinel watch. To the west stand out in strong relief the rocky cliffs of Dunvegan Head, and in the south are the marvellous Coolins with their ever-changing aspects. At the time when Angus Mackay's publication appeared in 1838, the ruins of the "college" remained in situ, disclosing thick walls, massive cabers or rafters, and other characteristics of old Highland habitations. Mackay says that the building was divided into two parts, one forming the class-room and the other the sleeping apartments.

It was the practice of the MacCrimmons to enter into formal indentures of apprenticeship with their pupils, one of which has been published in the Inverness Gaelic Society's Transactions. So many years of study were prescribed, regular lessons were given out, and certain periods for receiving the instructions of the master were fixed. The Rev. Archibald Clerk, son-in-law of Dr. Norman MacLeod (Caraid nan Gaidheal), writing in 1845 states, that the whole tuition "was carried on systematically as in any of our modern academies; and the names of some of the caves and knolls in the vicinity still point out the spots where the scholars used to practice respectively the Piob Mhor or large bagpipe, before exhibiting in presence of the master. MacLeod endowed this school by granting the farm of Borreraig to it, and it is no longer than seventy years since the endowment was withdrawn. The farm had originally been given only during the pleasure of the proprietor. For many ages the grant was undisturbed, but when the value of land had risen to six or seven times what it was when the school was founded, MacLeod very reasonably proposed to resume one half of the farm, offering at the same time to MacCrimmon a free lease of the other half in perpetuam: but MacCrimmon, indignant that his emoluments should be curtailed, resigned the whole farm and broke up his establishment, which has never been restored."

Any description of the home of the MacCrimmons would be incomplete without referring to Clach MacCrimmon, a stone which is almost as well-known as the MacCrimmons themselves. Although the account of this matter savours of exaggeration, there can be little doubt that the incident is believed in firmly by the people of the district. The incident as narrated to me was as follows: One of the MacCrimmons was in the habit of tethering his horse, in accordance with the custom of the country, by a rope attached to a cipean driven into the ground. Some maliciously disposed persons removed the cipean from its place on more than one occasion, thus causing MacCrimmon's horse to roam and to do damage to the surrounding crops. In exasperation, MacCrimmon vowed that he would so fix the cipean that no mortal man would ever remove it again. He thereupon looked about for a stone sufficiently large to suit his purpose, and, observing one about 200 yards distant, he immediately proceeded, unaided, to lift it, carried it that distance and placed it upon the top of the cipean. The spot from which MacCrimmon removed the stone, and the spot upon which he placed it, were both pointed out to me. The stone is about 3 feet long by 2½ feet broad, and 2 feet high. I endeavoured to lift the stone an inch or two from the ground and failed to do so. To satisfy certain south-country sceptics, not very long ago, several men, including Murdoch MacLeod (who accompanied me upon the occasion to which I have been referring), succeeded in removing the stone from the bed in which it had lain so long, and by using a wall as a lever, rolled it down a gradient of several yards to the spot where it at present lies. A most remarkable sequel followed. It was stated to me, in all seriousness, that underneath the stone when it was removed, was found an ancient rusty cipean much worn away. Murdoch Macleod stated to me that he not only saw it, but handled it.

MACCRIMMON PUPILS

If the genius of a master can be measured by the success of his pupils, then, apart from other considerations, the MacCrimmons of Boreraig must truly be regarded as kings among pipers. The fame of their college, long recognised throughout the Isles, spread to the mainland, and pupils from all parts of Scotland eagerly travelled long distances to avail themselves of the tuition the college afforded. No piper's education was regarded as complete until he had passed through the hands of the masters at Boreraig. Rival chiefs buried for a time their jealousies, and sent their pipers to the college on MacLeod's lands. The method usually adopted was to apprentice the young pipers to the MacCrimmons for a period of years, and, in the case of those men who had already otherwise been trained, to send them to Skye for a short period. In a series of articles upon the History of the Parish of Kiltarlity, written by the Rev. Archibald Macdonald, I find the following: "There is an indenture drawn up at Beaufort on 9th March, 1743, in which William Fraser, tacksman, Beauly, is described as his Lordship's (Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat) musician. The brother of this William—David Fraser—had been educated by David Macgregor, his Lordship's piper. His Lordship, however, was now to send David to the Isle of Skye to have him perfected as a Highland piper by the famous Malcolm MacCrimmon, whom his Lordship was to reward for educating the said David for a year."

It in no sense belittles the importance of the MacArthurs, who, as a family of pipers, were second only in excellence to the MacCrimmons of Boreraig, to state that the musical education of a member of this family, Charles, was perfected by Patrick Og MacCrimmon. The MacArthurs were hereditary pipers to the MacDonalds of the Isles and, like the MacCrimmons, had a school for instruction in pipe music. Pennant, who visited the Hebrides in 1774, was hospitably entertained in this building and listened to the playing of many pibrochs. He describes the building as consisting of four apartments, one of which formed the hall set apart for students. Of Charles MacArthur the following interesting incident is told. Sir Alexander Macdonald, being at Dunvegan on a visit to the laird of MacLeod, heard the performance of Patrick Og MacCrimmon with great delight, and desirous if possible to have a piper of equal merit, he said to MacCrimmon one day that there was a young man whom he was anxious to place under his tuition, on condition that he should not be allowed to return until such time as he could play equal to his master. "When this is the case," said MacDonald, "you will bring him home and I will give you ample satisfaction for your trouble." "Sir Alexander," said Patrick, "if you will be pleased to send him to me I will do all that I am able to do for him." Charles was accordingly sent to Boreraig where he remained for eleven years, when MacCrimmon, considering him as perfect as he could be made, proceeded to Mugstad to deliver his charge to Sir Alexander, who was then residing there, and, where Iain Dall Mackay, Gairloch's blind piper, happened also to be. Macdonald hearing of their arrival, thought it a good opportunity to determine the merit of his own piper by the judgment of the blind man, whose knowledge of pipe music was unexceptionable. He therefore enjoined Patrick Og and MacArthur not to speak a word to betray who they were, and, addressing Mackay, he told him he had a young man learning the pipes for some years and was glad that he was present to say whether he thought him worth the money which his instruction had cost. Mackay said if he heard him play he would give his opinion freely, and he requested to be informed previously with whom the piper had been studying. Sir Alexander told him he had been with Patrick Og MacCrimmon. Then Mackay exclaimed, "He could never have been with a better master!" The young man was ordered to play, and when he was finished Sir Alexander asked the other for his opinion. "I think a great deal of him," replied Iain. "He is a good piper; he gives the notes correctly, and if he takes care he will excel in his profession." Sir Alexander was pleased with so flattering an opinion, and observed that he had been at the trouble of sending two persons to the college that he might retain the best, and that now the second man would play, so that an opinion on his merits might also be given. Mackay observed that he must be a very excellent performer to surpass the first, or even to compare with him. When Patrick Og (who acted as the second pupil) had finished playing, Sir Alexander asked the umpire what he thought of his performance. "Indeed, Sir, no one need try me in that manner," returned the blind man. "Although I have lost the eyes of my human body, I have not lost the eyes of my understanding; and if all the pipers in Scotland were present I would not find it a difficult task to distinguish the last player from them all." "You surprise me, Mackay, who is he?" "Who but Patrick Og MacCrimmon," promptly rejoined Mackay, and, turning to where Patrick was sitting, he observed, "It was quite needless, my good sir, to think you would deceive me in that way, for you could not but know that I should have recognised your performance among a thousand." Sir Alexander then asked Mackay himself to play, and afterwards he called for a bottle of whisky, drank to their healths, and remarked that he had that night under his roof the three best pipers in Britain. So much admired was Charles MacArthur for his musical taste, that a gentleman in MacLeod's country prevailed on Malcolm MacCrimmon to send his son Donald for six months to reside with MacArthur, not with the idea of adding to his musical knowledge, but in order that he might be improved by studying MacArthur's particular graces.

About the same time one of the MacCrimmons, better known as Padruig Caogach (obviously not the Patrick Caogach No. 3 on Mr. Ross' list, if Mr. Ross' order is correct), because of his habit of frequently winking, was endeavouring to compose a tune. Two years had passed since the first two measures of it had become known, and still the tune remained half finished. Poor Patrick utterly failed in his frequent attempts to finish what he had begun so well. Mackay succeeded where Patrick failed, finished the tune and called it "Lasan Phadruig Chaogaich."[26] Annoyed because of Mackay's success, or perhaps because of the perpetuation of his physical weakness, Patrick bribed the other apprentices to hurl the blind Iain from a height of twenty-four feet. Iain, however, landed on his feet without injury. The place in question was thereafter known as "Leum an Doill."[27] It is said that the completion by Iain Dall of Patrick's unfinished tune resulted in great praise being bestowed upon the former, and gave rise to the saying, "Chaidh an fhoghluim osceann Mhic Cruimein," i.e., "the apprentice outstrips the master."

MACCRIMMON LEGENDS

The legends associated with the MacCrimmons are numerous and interesting, but I can only refer to one or two of them. The "Cave" legend is well-known, and I make no further reference to it except to say that variations of it are to be met with wherever piping has been practised.

Neil Munro, whose stories of the Hebrides are redolent of peat reek and quaint Gaelic idioms, has used the following Breadalbane legend to excellent purpose in his story of the Red Hand: Ross, an old Breadalbane piper, in a fit of jealous rage, forced the right hand of his brother into the fire until it became a charred lump, to prevent him becoming a better piper than himself. Somewhat akin to this old tale is one concerning the MacCrimmons. Although proud of the state of perfection to which they had brought the art of piping, and while encouraging the dissemination of their art by returning young men to their homes from the college at Boreraig trained to a high degree of efficiency, they nevertheless retained among the members of their own family certain movements known only to themselves. They were rightly proud of the position they occupied, and were jealous lest they lost it, even though the honour were to descend upon a pupil of their own training. The story goes that a girl, friendly with the MacCrimmons, acquired the knowledge of how a certain hitherto secret combination of notes was accomplished and imparted the information to her sweetheart, who was not of the MacCrimmon family. Upon this fact reaching the ears of her family the drastic step was adopted of instantly cutting off her fingers so as to prevent possible leakage of information in the future.

In the beautiful Gaelic song, said to have been composed by Donald Ban MacCrimmon's sweetheart at Dunvegan, one of the lines refers to the wailing of the fairies when they heard that their friend was leaving to return no more. These little people play no small part in Highland legends generally, and we are therefore not surprised to learn of the existence of the following MacCrimmon fairy legend. On one occasion, when Dunvegan's chief was entertaining within his hospitable walls a goodly company, including many representatives of the leading clans, accompanied by their pipers, it was agreed that the pipers should compete for the post of honour. MacLeod, as a good host, naturally left his piper to come last. The competition went on, piper succeeding piper, until there remained two, including MacLeod's piper, MacCrimmon, to compete. MacLeod glanced in the direction where he expected to see MacCrimmon preparing to acquit himself bravely, but to his annoyance there was no sign of him. Calling a boy, a young MacCrimmon, to him, he bade him search for and bring back MacCrimmon. In a short time the boy returned with the tidings that MacCrimmon was hopelessly drunk. The chief was plunged into the depths of despair with the certainty staring him in the face of being disgraced in front of his guests in his own castle. Seizing the boy by the hand, he whispered in his ear as the eleventh piper stepped forward, "You are the twelfth piper from your chief." Realizing the impossibility of the task imposed upon him the poor lad fled from the hall and threw himself down upon the hillside bitterly bewailing the helplessness of his condition. Suddenly there arose out of an adjacent hillock a beautiful little fairy, who, doubtless realizing the importance of time, handed to the lad a silver chanter and bade him play upon it. He did so, and through the silent glen there floated music the like of which had never before been heard by human ears. With a radiant countenance the lad immediately returned to the hall and, as he entered, the last notes of the eleventh piper were dying away. Proudly the little fellow lifted his master's pipes, and to the surprise and merriment of the great gathering, took the place just vacated by the previous piper. The virtues of the silver chanter stood him in good stead and the looks of amusement quickly turned into admiration, as there came from the pipes the notes of a master player.

In my own youthful days I heard the following MacCrimmon story. On the occasion of a great competition among the pipers held at Dunvegan Castle, the leading MacCrimmon of the day and his nephew, to whom MacCrimmon had imparted his whole store of knowledge, save one particular tune, resolved to compete. The old master had specially refrained from communicating this particular composition to his pupil in order that, while priding himself upon the accomplishments of his own pupil, he might yet retain one item, the knowledge and playing of which would secure for him the coveted honour at the coming competition. On the night before the great event master and pupil slept together at a certain inn. Believing his companion to be sleeping, the old man conned over to himself the air by which he hoped to distinguish himself on the morrow. The arm of the apparently sleeping lad was lying stretched across the bed, and the old piper's hands, mechanically searching for something upon which to "finger" the tune, seized upon his pupil's arm. Time and again the old man practised the notes, at the same time quietly humming the notes, ignorant of the fact that his pupil, though feigning sleep, was very wide awake, and gradually becoming the possessor of the coveted port. On the morrow the pupil entered the lists before his master, and to the mortification of the latter, carried off the leading honour by reason of his manner of playing the tune of which MacCrimmon believed himself at that time to be the sole possessor.

Once again, I find myself in "Eilean a' cheó." Six weeks of almost constant rain, disappointing to others who are not accustomed to the vagaries of the weather, have not chilled the affectionate ardour which contact with the island and its people invariably inspires in me. The mists have ever hung heavy on the hills in times of deep, heart-breaking sorrow, and the present tempestuous weather is but in keeping with the sad aftermath of War.

To-day, there came from a distant part of the Island one who served his country well in the late war and who was sorely wounded in that service. To the home of Pibroch he brought his pipes, and in the seclusion of the Pipers Cave in Galtrigal he played two well-known MacCrimmon ports; "Cumha Ruari Mhor," and "Tog orm mo phiob." An ardent student of MacCrimmon Pibroch, and a cultured exponent of their art, he came to do honour at their shrine. It was fitting that one of those who heard the haunting notes as they welled forth across the loch was Sir Rory's lineal descendant Macleod of Macleod.

There are many pipers who look hopefully for the day when the memory of the MacCrimmons and of their immortal genius shall be enshrined in a College of Piping, where pupils from far and near may receive instruction in all that is noblest and best in the art of bag-pipe playing.

A GOSSIP ABOUT THE GORDON HIGHLANDERS

By J. M. Bulloch

If the Great War has reversed some preconceptions and ruthlessly rationalised many traditions, it has confirmed, and actually enhanced, the fine fighting reputation of the ten Regiments of the Line—half of them kilted—which Scotland contributes to the British Army. We now know of a certainty that this reputation is well founded as we did not know it before. True, there has long been a legend to that effect, but of recent years there has been a disposition to question its validity. Scotland, or rather the articulate part of it, has borrowed the deadly doctrine of self-depreciation, from which the dominant partner has suffered severely, and the suggestion has not been wanting that the praise of Scots troops, which received such an impetus from the enthusiastic pen of the author of The Romance of War, was somewhat overdone. We were reminded that our Army had not had to face troops on the Continent of Europe since the days of the Crimea; one Scots Regiment had not done so since 1799, while the Gordons had nothing to show for it since Waterloo.

If that was true of the old "Contemptibles" generally, it was still truer of the auxiliary forces, which had seen no fighting at all, except in South Africa; but to-day all of them have stood the acid test of the greatest war in history. The old "Contemptibles" were never finer, and we have lived to see one of the best Divisions in the Army composed entirely of kilted Territorials. Indeed, a cloud of witnesses has arisen to prove that all the 126 Battalions, into which the 69 composing the Scots Regiments expanded themselves for the purposes of war, have rendered magnificent service. If we relied merely on the word of the Commander-in-Chief we might suspect bias, for Earl Haig and more than one of his Generals are Scots by birth; but we have the appreciation of the special newspaper war-correspondents, and not one of them hailed from north of the Border.

We have, moreover, the testimony of the enemy, who very quickly recognised the valour and skill of all the Scots Regiments, particularly those of the 51st Division. Indeed, the Scots soldier, although he represented only eleven per cent. of the British Army against eighty-one per cent. of England itself, took hold of the imagination of the Germans to such an extent that their caricaturists turned John Bull into a Highlander, converting his traditional tall hat into a diced "cockit" bonnet, his white riding breeches into a kilt or tartan trews, and his top-boots into gaiters. The pages of Simplicissmus, Kladderadatsch, and Jugend, to name only a few, have throughout the war pictured a long procession of the "wife-men" as representing the British Army, at first in a spirit of incredulous burlesque, and latterly with something of the wholesome fear, which was popularly supposed to have overtaken George the Second when he started in his sleep in terror as he dreamed that the "Great Glenbogged" (Glenbucket) was swooping down upon him.

It was to the advent of the father of that monarch that we owe the raising of the kilted Scots—nearly all the trewsed Regiments arose in the previous century—though the connection was indirect, not to say inverted, and was touched with an irony (especially in the light of the greatest of wars), which has been largely lost on a certain type of popularly accepted English history. According to this reasoning, the Highlanders, on seeing the country in danger owing to the expansion adventures of the dominant partner at the expense of France, flocked to the colours at the call of the English Government, and thus not only helped to save the Empire, but gratified their own passion for arms, which had been severely suppressed after the Forty-Five.

The facts, however, are very different from this facile theory. To begin with, if the country as a whole had little consciousness of expansion, as Seeley argued, the Highlander had infinitely less, for one of the main troubles of dealing with him, even in our own day, has been his homing instinct, his intense love of his native soil, no matter how poor it may be. In the second place, the ambitions of the House of Hanover touched no responsive chord in the Highlander's heart, for the Clans had felt the full scourge of Teutonism in the ruthless work of Cumberland at Culloden.

Again, if France was the hereditary arch-enemy of the dominant partner, Scotland in general and the Highlands in particular, had no such quarrel with her. On the contrary, France and Scotland, linked together by racial, psychological, and historical similarities and identities of interest, had long been the best of friends, and it must have puzzled the average Highlander why he should be asked to fight against her. So strong is this community of spirit that it might very well be argued that the Highland Regiments have never fought better in their long history than they have done in the Great War, because they were fighting for France, as well as for their native country.

No doubt the Union had placed Scotland in the same category as England so far as France was concerned, but the kilted regiments arose, not so much out of a political necessity as from a revival of the spirit which had made the Scot in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries a soldier of fortune wherever he was wanted, fighting now for Rome, and now in the ranks of Gustavus Adolphus against her; fighting to a large extent without passion, but as an artist in arms; and it was this absence of bias as much as anything else that made these venturers clean fighters, and raised their reputation as masters of their art wherever they took service.

From first to last the spirit which animated the soldier of fortune—out to gratify his instinct for adventure, his desire to make a living, and his passion for individuality—has always inspired the Highland regiments to a remarkable extent. It is true that the war with France involved the most momentous issues for the State, but the methods adopted for warding off the danger were far more personal and local than national. It might be argued that the real cause of the war with France was due to the imperialistic ambitions of individual adventurers, and therefore raised little national animus, but precisely the same methods of meeting a crisis coloured the early stages of Armageddon, when every one felt involved, the influence of one man, Lord Kitchener, being far more potent in rousing resistance than any abstract doctrine of State necessity.

The raising of troops to fight France was at no time the complete State undertaking that conscription has involved in our own day. At first the duty was taken up by individual landowners, who raised in turn Regiments of the Line and Fencible Corps; and when their pockets were exhausted, the task was assigned to local authorities like the Lords Lieutenant, who were commissioned to raise in turn Militia, Volunteers (1794-1808), and the very curious force known as Local Militia (1808-1816).

Scotland afforded a splendid ground for the exercise of personal influence because, although the Clan system with its chieftainship had broken down, the influence of the great landowners was still powerful enough to attract attention, although the devotion of the people had to be reinforced by bounties on a scale unknown in our day, and by all sorts of practical recognition, such as the adjustment of rents and the enlargement of holdings; for, although the armies thus raised had strong affinities with the levies organised under the feudal system, the Clan system was infinitely more democratic, and gave scope for greater individuality. This is so true that it often happened that the men raised in one glen declined to march to the rendezvous with the men of another glen who happened to be their hereditary enemies, and trouble arose over the demands of particular groups to be led by their local officers, some of them even believing that they should go forth to battle by Clans, as in the old days.

Of all the personal potentates interested in recruiting in Scotland, none was more powerful than the fourth Duke of Gordon who, although long in possession of vast tracts of Highland territory, was in no sense a Highlander, his family having migrated from Berwickshire to the north, and the trouble which existed for centuries between him and his Highland tenants, like the Macphersons, was due to the inability of his ancestors, or their representatives, to understand the true nature of the Celt. More motives than one urged His Grace forward as recruiter. In the first place, his immediate ancestors had played a very dubious part in the Jacobite risings, and the fourth Duke was anxious to remove the last doubts as to the loyalty of his house. Later on he married an extremely clever and ambitious woman, the famous Jane Maxwell, who had a great desire to play a big part in the State, and do something for her sons.

Whatever the motives, the recruiting achievements of His Grace were splendid, for from first to last he raised no fewer than four complete regiments, besides contributing two companies to corps raised by others, and he also played a very active part as Lord Lieutenant of his county. The forces organised by the Duke were as follows:

The sole remnant of this mighty effort, which must have cost the Duke a fortune, is the regiment of Gordon Highlanders, which we have seen blossom out into eleven battalions, to say nothing of certain reserves; and although the regiment has not continued to be recruited on the ducal estates, its connection with the House of Gordon has all along been maintained, and has actually been strengthened in recent times. That connection of course has always been symbolised by the wearing of the clan tartan, but the links with the north were strengthened by the rearrangement of 1872, when infantry regiments were allotted to definite Territorial areas for the purpose of recruiting. About the same time the Gordon family motto, "Bydand," and the familiar crest were placed upon the bonnet in lieu of the hard-won Sphinx.

What is of much more importance is the fact that the genius of the family, admirably described in the alliterative phrase the "Gay Gordons," which inspired the original regiment, has passed into all its subsequent accretions, so that the 75th Regiment added to it in 1881, although actually of earlier origin, has been completely absorbed. The same can be said of the old Aberdeenshire Militia, which became the 3rd Battalion, and also of the various Volunteer Corps which were gradually absorbed, while the Service Battalions raised by Lord Kitchener displayed exactly the same spirit as the cradle corps. This continuity and identity of tradition are also emphasised, not only in the Gordons, but in all the Scots regiments, and especially in the kilted units, by the fact that they alone maintained during the War at least, part of their Peace equipment in the shape of the kilt—even if it was camouflaged with khaki aprons—and the trewsed regiments had their glengarries replaced by Kilmarnock and other braid bonnets.

Who can doubt that such a continuity of outward traditions is but the symbol of a spiritual identity which links up the Scots regiments of the present day with the Corps who did such splendid work of old from Fontenoy to Waterloo, from the Crimea to South Africa. True, when you come to define it, it is difficult to say what it precisely consists in. Nearly every Regiment of the Line has its own peculiarities, but the Scots regiments have them in even greater abundance, for with them they are reinforced by marked racial characteristics. It is perfectly true that the Highland regiments are no longer confined to Highlanders, or even to Scotsmen, although the idea industriously propagated some years ago that they were originally composed largely of Irishmen, is a fallacy, completely disproved by War Office Records. Even if it were otherwise, the fact remains that the esprit de corps which all these idiosyncracies help to form has a remarkably proselytising influence, very subtle and difficult to define, but very potent in actual practice.

The early history of the Gordons is full of curious little incidents which sometimes run counter to popular notions. For example, it used to be commonly supposed, especially in support of the now exploded theory that we have become "degenerate," that the first recruits of the Highland regiments were gigantic men. This is far from being the case. From the Description Book of the Gordons, one of the very few regiments which possess such data in an early form, it is proved that the average height of 914 men composing the greater part (940) of the original regiment, was only 5' 5½", only six of them being 6' or upwards—the tallest, a Morayshire man, scaling 6' 4". Similar facts can be cited about the heights of other groups of men at the same period.

There were only 16 men actually named Gordon, against 39 Macdonalds, 35 Macphersons, and 34 Camerons. As to the occupations of the men, it is interesting to note that 442 were described as "labourers," and as most of them came from the Highlands, they were presumably farm servants. Of skilled artisans, 186 were weavers. Inverness-shire, where the Duke had vast estates, supplied 240 men, Aberdeenshire 124, Banffshire 82, Lanark 62, Ireland 51, England 9, and Wales 2.

There was a solitary German in the regiment, a musician named C. Augustus Sochling, hailing from Hesse Cassel. There was another German in the regiment later on, also a musician, named Friederich Zeigher (or Zugner) who fell at Quatre Bras. The appearance of these Germans was in its way a sort of return for the fact that the House of Gordon had given many good soldiers of its name to what we now call Germany, although most of them really took post in Poland. The descendants of at least four of these soldiers still exist in Germany, and have risen to the dignity of a von, including the founder of the von Gordon-Coldwells, of Laskowitz, in West Prussia, the von Gordons of Frankfort, and the family of Dr. Adolf von Gordon, the well-known Berlin lawyer, whose motto is "Byid Dand." Although at the beginning of 1914 he told a Berlin newspaper that he knew nothing more about it than that it was an "altschottischer Spruch," it is, of course, nothing more or less than the historic word "Bydand."

With regard to the pipe history of the regiment not very much is known. I fancy this is due to the fact that so much that has to do with the art of piping generally rests on oral and not written tradition. In the second place it must be remembered that pipers were not originally recognised by the State. They were purely a regimental, and not an Army, institution, and had no separate rank as the drummers had. Indeed, it was not till about 1853 that they got the same rank and pay as drummers. Thus, in May 1805, a piper named Alexander Cameron was taken on the strength of the Grenadiers as drummer, probably to get him drummer's pay, to which, as a piper, he was not entitled.

The rivalry of the two is brought out in a story told in Carr's Caledonian Sketches, of a dispute as to precedence between a piper and a drummer of a Highland regiment. When the Captain decided in favour of the latter, the piper expostulated with the remark, "Oh, sir, shall a little rascal that beats a sheepskin take the right hand of me that am a musician?" The differentiation of the two is still reflected in the fact that a piper is always a piper, whereas a "musician" returns to the ranks in time of war.

The first direct mention of pipers in the Gordons occurs in a regimental order of October 27, 1796, when the regiment was at Gibraltar, and when it was ordained that pipers were to attend all fatigue parties. An interesting sidelight on the use of the pipes occurs in a regimental order of November 12, 1812, when the regiment was at Alba de Tormes in Spain:

"The pibroch will never sound except when it is for the whole regiment to get under arms; when any portion of the regiment is ordered for duty and a pipe to sound, the first pipe will be the warning, and the second pipe for them to fall in. The pibroch only will, and is to be considered, as invariably when sounded, for every persons off duty to turn out without a moment's delay."

A pathetic little story about this function of the pipers is told by James Hope in his forgotten little book, Letters from Portugal, Spain and France, printed in 1819:

"At ten o'clock (on the evening of the day of Quatre Bras) the piper of the 92nd took post under the garden hedge in front of the village, and, tuning his bagpipes, attempted to collect the sad remains of his regiment. Long and loud blew Cameron, and, although the hills and vallies (sic) re-echoed the hoarse murmurs of his favourite instrument, his utmost efforts could not produce more than half of those whom his music had cheered in the morning on their march to the field of battle."

At the battle of St. Pierre in the Peninsular, December 13, 1813, two out of the three pipers of the Gordons were killed while playing the pibroch "Cogadh na sith" (with which they were to charm the ears of the Czar of Russia in the great Review at Paris in July, 1815). As one fell, another took up the tune, and it was suggested to Sir John Sinclair, as President of the Highland Society, that this "should be made known all over the Highlands." It may be noted that the Colonel, the gallant, if martinet, Cameron of Fassiefern, who fell at Quatre Bras, gave great encouragement to his pipers, especially as regards the specially Highland airs and the high-class music (Ceol Mor). Colonel Greenhill Gardyne attributes to this the fact that "all pipers in the Gordons are still taught to play Piobaireachd," and that the ancient and characteristically Highland class of pipe music is still played every day under the windows of the officers quarters before dinner.

The Gordons have enjoyed the services of one particular family of hereditary ear-pipers, the Stewarts. They came from Perthshire, where one of them was a piper to the Duke of Atholl, while his brother, known as "Piper Jamie," crossed the hills into the Parish of Kirkmichael, Banffshire—the cradle of a remarkable military family, the Gordons of Croughly—where seven sons were born to him. All of these strapping fellows entered the Aberdeenshire Militia, now the 3rd Battalion of the Gordon Highlanders, six of them becoming pipers. The best known of these was the eldest, Donald (1849-1913), who migrated to New Deer, Aberdeenshire, and was known all over Scotland as a champion piper. The family has been supplying pipers to the Gordons for more than half a century.

No doubt modern battles are not won by deeds of individual daring such as these pipers have achieved, but they are won in terms of the spirit which makes such conduct possible, for it is just the little things, the train of tradition, the idiosyncracies of uniform, and the rest of it, which go to form that esprit de corps which has made the kilted regiments famous the world over.

TO THE LION RAMPANT

By Alice C. Macdonell of Keppoch