Playing round the square alone.”
There died at Melrose in 1899, a woman of ninety-eight, a daughter of the regiment, who heard the guns at Quatre Bras and saw a piper play the Highland Brigade past to the tune of “Hey, Johnnie Cope,” after his legs had been cut off below the knee. This can hardly have been Mac Kay, but it may well have been one of the same name, for at that time there were more pipers from the Reay Country in the army than from any other district of Scotland. Skye and Tongue produced more pipers and gave more pipers to the army than any other two districts, from which it is argued, quite legitimately, that there must have been a piping college at Tongue as well as at Dunvegan.
From the far east, too, we have instances of the bravery of pipers. There is living in Glasgow at the present day, William Middleton, who was for twenty-one years piper to the Gordon Highlanders. At the battle of Candahar, while playing to his company, his pipes suddenly stopped. He sat down to mend them, and his comrades said he was dead; but “Na, na,” said the piper, “I’m worth twa dead men yet,” and forthwith he got up, and blew away as hard as ever. He continued playing, and, when the engagement was over, it was found that one bullet had gone through his pipes, another had knocked the brass off his helmet, another gone through his kilt, another knocked a button off his coat, another gone through his water-bottle, another through his haversack, and another had struck the heel of his boot. And he himself escaped unscratched.
At Lucknow, no sooner had the 93rd forced their way through the breach than John Mac Leod, then pipe-major, who was right in the front, began to encourage the men by vigorously playing his pipes. The more hot and deadly the fire became, the more highly strung became the piper’s feelings, and the louder squealed the pipes, John standing the while in perfectly exposed positions, in which he must have appeared to the enemy like some unearthly visitant. There he stood for over two hours, while bayonet and rifle did their work. A similar story comes from the American War of Independence. The 42nd Highlanders helped to storm Fort-Washington, and a piper was one of the first to reach the top of the ramparts. Once there he began to play the slogan of his clan, which so roused his comrades that they rushed the heights, carrying everything before them. The brave piper, however, lost his life just as victory was assured. Another piper of the 42nd Highlanders distinguished himself in a more recent war. With the regiment at the Gold Coast there was James Wotherspoon, a native of Falkirk, and a piper. At the battle of Amoaful, in the heat of the action, when brave men were falling on every hand, Wotherspoon cheered them on with martial music, and afterwards assisted to carry Major William Baird, who was mortally wounded, off the field. For this act of devotion, Queen Victoria, at Windsor, presented the piper with the medal for distinguished conduct in the field.
In the Ashanti War there was an instance of bravery under circumstances more trying than open battle. When the Black Watch entered Coomassie, they had to march through a dense jungle infested by savages. But they formed in procession, and, headed by the pipers, and firing at hidden enemies on either side, they stepped—
“Into the depth of the forest shade
Into the gloom of the chasm made,
Into the ambush of deadly night,
In midst a dashing glare of light.
Quick in response a volley burst