To plunder and to ravish.
“For he did resolve
To extirpate ta vipers,
With four-and-twenty men
And five-and-thirty pipers.”
It is easy to find players on the bagpipes; performers whose accent proves that they belong to the Highlands of Highgate or Holborn Hill, may be heard in any street of London; but the genuine race of pipers, with their chivalrous spirit, and their undying devotion to their own regiments, has died out. The pipers even of our Scottish regiments are rarely Highlanders by birth: they have generally been instructed in the use of the instrument after entering the army. Such men may play tolerably well, but they cannot be expected to have the old esprit de corps.
A favourable exception is to be found in Ewen Henderson, the pipe-major of the 1st battalion of the Scots Fusilier Guards, who is at once a good piper and a genuine Highlander. He is a son of Angus Henderson of Annat, who joined the 92nd when first raised, served with it till the battle of Waterloo, rose to the rank of colour-sergeant, and lived till a few years ago to enjoy his well-earned pension. Ewen is a worthy son of a worthy sire: a living representative of what the pipers once were; a favourable specimen of the Celtic race. He feels the dignity of his position as pipe-major of a gallant regiment, and the sound of his war-pipe has been heard at Alma and Inkerman. It has also sounded in more peaceful scenes. He had the honour of performing before the Princess of Wales at Buckingham Palace a few weeks after her arrival, and was rewarded with some kind words and a golden Napoleon, which he wears at his watch chain and will not part with till his dying hour. “Will you take five pounds for it, Henderson?” said an officer to whom he showed it. “No, sir, not five hundred!” said Ewen, with the chivalrous feeling of an old paladin. The intrinsic value of the coin was less than a pound, but who shall estimate its value in Ewen’s eyes? Long may he be spared to wear it!
