“My uncle, Donald Mac Crimmon, was the last piper of the Mac Crimmons that was in the Castle, and he died over fifty years ago. My father also, Norman Mac Crimmon, was a pibroch player, and was taught by Captain Mac Leod of Gesto, who is now dead fifty-four years. Both were born at Lowerkill, Glendale. My great grandfather, Donald Donn, was brother to Donald Bàn, who composed ‘Mac Crimmon’s Lament,’ and was with the Mac Leod Highlanders near Moy Hall, the residence of Lady Mac Intosh, reconnoitering Prince Charlie.”
Some stories—they are only stories—assert that the Mac Crimmons were originally Mac Gregors. The Mac Gregors, it is pointed out, had an academy for the teaching of pipe music in Lochaber many centuries ago, and the Mac Gregor music, such as the “Reel of Tulloch” (that this is a Mac Gregor tune is a matter of debate, however) is the merriest and also the saddest in the Highlands. Rob Roy’s deathbed tune is said to have simply been “We Return no More,” in other words, “Mac Crimmon’s Lament,” and his piper was himself a Mac Crimmon, who, under the mournful circumstances, recalled the traditional strain. There is certainly a great deal that is probable in this, but that is the most that can be said about it.
The best, and what, on the face of it, is the most reliable story of the Mac Crimmons is that given by Angus Mac Kay in his book of pipe music.[[14]] It is beyond doubt that high musical talent as well as high moral principle and personal bravery descended from father to son during many generations in the family of the Mac Crimmons. They became so famous that pupils were sent to them from many parts of the Highlands, and one of the best certificates a piper could possess was his having studied under the Mac Crimmons. Finding the number of their pupils increasing daily, they at length opened a regular school or college on the farm of Boreraig, about eight miles south-west of Dunvegan Castle, but separated from it by Loch Follart. Here seven years’ study was prescribed for each scholar, regular lessons were given out, and certain periods were fixed on for receiving instruction. The tuition was carried on as systematically as in any of our northern schools, and the names of some of the caves and knolls in the vicinity still indicate the places where the scholars used to practise respectively the chanter, the small pipe and the large bagpipe, before playing in the presence of the master. This school was not entirely extinct in 1779, for Dr. Johnson, who was at Dunvegan in that year, alludes to it and says his dinner “was exhilarated by the bagpipes at Armadale and Dunvegan.” The school proper was the “ben” end of the dwelling-house, which seems to have been about seventy feet in length and two storeys in height. In actual practice, however, the room was little used. The “professors” preferred the open hillside, a small hollow near the house, or a cave in the neighbourhood, which came to be known as the Pipers’ Cave. Near the Pipers’ Cave is another known as the Pigeons’ Cave, which is about a mile in length. To it, tradition asserts, the daughters of the Mac Crimmons were wont to slip with a favourite set of pipes, for they too were musically inclined, and so proficient did some of them become, an ancient chronicler tells us, that they were able to superintend the class work in the absence of their fathers.
The speciality of the Mac Crimmons was the pibroch, and many students studied with them for years so as to become proficient in this one branch of pipe music—a branch which is, in the estimation of most pipers, far superior to reels and strathspeys. They held the farm of Boreraig rent free until the time came when all the hereditary pipers were either dispossessed of their lands or asked to pay rent for them. The proud Mac Crimmons declined to pay rent, broke up the college, and from that day ceased to exist as a family for the cultivation of pipe music. Their farm was afterwards let to eighteen different tenants, and drew over £100 a year in rent, so they must have been treated with considerable liberality by their chiefs.
No tradition exists, says Mac Kay, relating to the time when the Mac Crimmons became professional pipers to the Mac Leods, but neither is their trace of any others holding the office. The first of whom there is any account is Iain Odhar or Dun-coloured John, who lived about 1600, but it is evident from their compositions that the family must have been established long before that date. They were a minor sept, and they are supposed to have derived their name from the fact that the first performer studied at Cremona. After Iain Odhar came his son, Donull Mór or Big Donald, who became a great pibroch player, and getting into the good graces of Mac Leod, got special opportunities for learning. He was sent to a college in Ireland, which is said to have been started there by a celebrated Scottish piper, and he learned all there was to learn.
The system of this Irish school permitted one pupil only to be in the presence of the master at a time, but Donull Mor, in his anxiety to learn, hid himself in a corner, where he could hear all the other students—there were twenty-four—at their lessons. He required only to hear a tune once to remember it completely, so he very soon exhausted the repertory of the master. When he came back to Skye, Mac Leod was delighted with the progress he had made. But the piper was not destined to remain at peace long. He had a brother who, because of a squint in one of his eyes, was known as Padruig Coag, or Squinting Peter, and this brother quarrelled with a foster brother of his own, a native of Kintail, who afterwards treacherously killed him. Big Donald swore vengeance, and going up to his chief’s room threw his pipes on the bed. Mac Leod asking what was wrong, Donald told his story, and demanded that his chief should avenge his clansman. Mac Leod promised to see justice done within a year, and Donald took his leave. The chief, however, had no intention of executing vengeance on the Kintail man; he only wished to give Donald’s anger time to cool. But he did not know his man, for at the end of the year Donald, without giving a hint to anyone, set out in pursuit of his brother’s murderer. He found that he was in Kintail, but in hiding, and as the people of the village declined to give him up, the wrath of Donald Mór Mac Crimmon broke all bounds. He set fire to eighteen of their houses, a trick which cost several lives. It was then his turn to go into hiding, which he did in Lord Reays country. The Lord of Kintail offered a big reward for his arrest, but he was not caught, though he was known to be wandering among the hills. His principal place of concealment was in a shepherd’s house, where a bed was specially made for him in the wall. At last Kintail came to know of this haunt of Mac Crimmon’s, and sent his son with a dozen men to seize him. Donald Mór was in the house when the shepherd’s wife saw the party coming, and he betook himself to bed. The woman then made a big fire in the centre of the floor, where fires were always made in those days, and when the avenger of blood came with his men she welcomed them effusively, and, making them sit round the fire, she hung their plaids on a rope between them and Mac Crimmon’s bed. Then the fugitive slipped out behind and was free, profiting as other and more notable men have done by a woman’s astuteness. When the pursuers had searched the house and found nothing, the shepherd’s wife entertained them hospitably and kept them for the night. When they had gone to rest Mac Crimmon came in and, gathering all their arms while they slept soundly, he placed the weapons all over their leader and retired. When morning broke, Mac Kenzie of Kintail immediately realized what had taken place, and was astonished at the generosity of Big Donald. “If Donald Mór Mac Crimmon is alive,” he said, “it was he that did this, and it was as easy for him to take my life as to do so.” When they went outside they saw Mac Crimmon on the other side of a stream, and when his men essayed to ford the stream and seize him, Mac Kenzie threatened to shoot the first who touched the piper, and swore to Mac Crimmon that if he would cross the river he would not be injured. After all the men had been sworn to the same purpose, Mac Crimmon did cross, and in consideration of his nobility in sparing his life during the night, Mac Kenzie took the piper home with him, and by dint of special pleading managed to obtain for him the forgiveness of Lord Kintail. Then Donald Mór returned to his allegiance at Dunvegan, where he remained ever after—a great piper. It was after his day that the Mac Crimmons were universally acknowledged to be the best pipers in Scotland, so much so that no piper was considered perfect unless he had studied for some time under them.
Donald Mór Mac Crimmon was succeeded by his son Patrick Mór. This Patrick had eight sons, seven of whom died within twelve months. On this great bereavement he composed a tune called Cumha no Cloinne, or “The Lament for the Children.” In 1745 Mac Leod’s piper was Donald Bàn Mac Crimmon, the composer of “Mac Crimmon’s Lament.” Mac Leod was opposed to Prince Charlie, and when he was defeated at Inverurie by Lord Louis Gordon, Donald Bàn was taken prisoner. On this occasion a striking mark of respect was paid to Mac Crimmon by his brother pipers in Lord Louis Gordon’s following. The morning after the battle they did not play as usual, and on inquiry it was found that they were silent because Mac Crimmon was a prisoner. He was immediately set at liberty, but was killed shortly after at “The Rout of Moy,” a rather tragic incident in Highland Jacobite History. It was before leaving on the expedition in which he met his death that Donald Bàn composed “Mac Crimmon’s Lament,” under the presentiment that he would never see Dunvegan again. On the night of the Rout of Moy, it was said, a second-sight man saw the body of Mac Crimmon shrunken to the proportions of a child, a sure sign of impending death. Donald Bàn was said to excel most of his race by the beauty and neatness with which he noted on paper the tunes he played and composed.
A MAC ARTHUR PIPER