The Highland bagpipe

by W. L. Manson

Mac Lennan always told this story afterwards with great glee. “Do you know,” he would say, “these judges were the most interesting men I ever met. I wonder what they would have done if the competitor was a hammer-thrower or a jumper. They could not say thirty feet was less than twenty-five feet.

Taken all over, however, the bigger competitions are honourably conducted, and the best men always come out first. These now competing are mostly the retainers of titled gentlemen, with a number of private individuals who unite to an ordinary occupation an enthusiasm for the pipes. There are several ways in which the gatherings could be improved and made more interesting to the general public and of more value to the devotees of the pipes. The names of the tunes played might be published with the list of results, as well as the names of the prize-winners; prizes might be offered for new tunes, and for essays on the history or merits of tunes; and thus composition would be stimulated; and, above all, the old plan whereby the player was kept out of sight of the judge might be reintroduced. The judging at local competitions is often looked on as a joke, and not worth protesting against. Were the judges ignorant of the identity of the players, the charge of favouritism could not be made, and that in itself would be a great step gained. If pipers would form a society among themselves and insist on only thoroughly competent men being allowed to act as judges the charge of ignorance of the music would fall to the ground. And again, some attempt might be made to put a stop to the liberty which everybody seems to have to organise a competition, call it “amateur championship” or whatever he likes, issue medals of little or no value, and pocket the receipts. All the gatherings, say in Scotland, could be managed by one organisation, a pipers’ society such as that suggested, or a more comprehensive Highland society of some kind, and a certain uniformity of grades in confined and open and amateur and professional competitions introduced which would give confidence to the competitors, make the principal prizes a known quantity, and interest the general public in the results. That, of course, would not preclude the holding of competitions under the auspices of well-known and accredited athletic or patriotic organisations.

The idea of competing with each other, even with no inducement in the way of medals or prizes, is an old one. It has given inspiration to the novelist, and Robert Louis Stevenson in one of the best passages of Kidnapped tells how Alan Breck and a son of Rob Roy exchanged a duel with swords for a duel with pipes, and finished very good friends indeed. “Robin Oig,” said Alan, when the duel was over, “ye are a great piper. I am not fit to blow in the same kingdom with ye. Body of me! ye have mair music in your sporran than I have in my head; and though it still sticks in my mind that I could maybe show ye another of it with the cold steel, I warn ye beforehand—it’ll no be fair! It would go against my heart to haggle a man that can blow the pipes as you can.” At swordsmanship it is certain that Alan would not have come off second best.

After competitions, perhaps the next potent force in keeping alive the music of the pipes is bands—regimental, volunteer, police, and private. Regimental bands have already been referred to at length, and of the others, although a good many exist, there is little to be said. The Glasgow Highlanders are said to possess more men who can play the pipes than any other volunteer battalion, and they have no less than four pipe bands in the regiment. The 1st Sutherland H.R.V. again have the strongest pipe band in the kingdom, if not in the world. There are seventy members, and although they live far from each other, scattered over an extensive and wild county, they are brought together regularly for training, and have reached a high degree of efficiency.

The only police band now in Scotland is that of Govan, which may be said to have been the first pipe band in connection with any police force. It was started in 1885, and is now more popular than ever, thanks to the encouraging care of Chief Constable Hamilton. The members of the force all take a thorough interest in the band, and when it plays in the public parks of Glasgow and neighbourhood it is always listened to by large crowds of the general public. The necessary funds are provided by two concerts annually, and the men cost the burgh nothing, either in the way of time lost from ordinary duty, or in the way of financial assistance. The tartan of the band is specially made to a pattern designed by the Chief Constable.

GOVAN POLICE BAND

The fact that “people of quality” keep pipers also helps wonderfully to preserve the music. The Sovereign’s example in this respect has been followed by a great many of the old nobility, and even these men who rise from the ranks, and whose only claim for admission into aristocratic circles is their wealth, must needs do as the others do. In other words, it is now fashionable to keep a piper. Non-Highlanders have adopted the kilt—the once proscribed dress—and wear it while holidaying in the Highlands, and whether or not they appreciate pipe music, they have it. This results in a state of affairs not always pleasing to the true Highlander, but it does much to preserve what the true Highlander, if left to himself in these latter days, would certainly neglect. There is undoubtedly a lot of sham and affectation about the Highland sentiment of to-day, but that is inevitable, and so long as with it all the old customs are maintained, we ought not to grumble.

As to the quality of the music in these days of ours, it is to be feared that since the piper became a domestic servant he has found it to his interest to cultivate the tastes of strangers, and hence the warlike character of the pipes has been considerably toned down. The composition of salutes and pibrochs is still attempted, and with a certain degree of success, but pipers would gain quite as much credit by paying more attention to the first-rate works of their predecessors as by composing and playing tunes of their own. Where a musical ear is accompanied by scientific knowledge, the present-day piper has a great advantage over those of a hundred years ago, but the fact remains that there are no tunes like the old tunes, and their intrinsic merit is the pride of the piping fraternity. Present-day conditions are not conducive to the production of good music, and we should be glad that we have a race of men capable of adequately interpreting the old.

The emigration boom that existed before and after 1870 resulted in the music and language of Scotland being scattered all over the world. In all the British colonies there are Highland societies, and competitions are held periodically, at which bagpipe playing is a prominent feature. In consequence, the exportation of pipes from Scotland has increased, and is still increasing. But the long distances between townships in the colonies tells very severely on the efforts of the Highland clubs. In Sydney, New South Wales, for instance, there are from twelve to twenty pipers, and a pipe band in connection with the Sydney Scottish Volunteers, the members of which practice all the year round. There is a big gathering on New Year’s Day, at which some 20,000 people usually assemble, and another similar gathering no less than 400 miles away. In November there is a gathering at Newcastle, sixty miles distant, and in January another at Goulburn, 130 miles by rail. So it is not easy for pipers to attend where prizes may be won. The only places, again, where pipes are made, or piping is taught, are in the towns of Sydney and Melbourne. Some of the native-born pipers are good players, having been taught by those who came from Scotland, and many of the old tunes are favourites, though the Colonials generally prefer the newer styles. The highest prize given is £5 for each event, but £3 for pibrochs, and £5, £4, £2, and £1 for marches, strathspeys, and reels grouped together is more common. Putting the three events together is a sore point with the Colonial pipers, and a strong effort is being made to restore the prize-list to its original form, giving three prizes for each event. The Pipers’ Association of Sydney have already started a movement for obtaining a voice in the choice of judges, and have been so far successful that their nominee was appointed last year, with the result that there was general satisfaction. This might be particularly noted by home pipers.