The time of the Flood—Pipes in Scripture—In Persia—In Arabia—In Tarsus—Tradition of the Nativity—In Rome—In Greece—In Wales, Ireland, and Scotland—Melrose Abbey—In France—In England—At Bannockburn—Chaucer—In war—First authentic Scottish reference—Oldest authentic specimen—Became general—Rosslyn Chapel—Second drone added—At Flodden—“A maske of bagpypes”—Spenser—Shakespeare—James VI.—A poetical historian—Big drone added—The ’45—Native to Scotland—The evolution of the Highlands.

Gillidh Callum was (so goes the story) Noah’s piper, and (still according to the story) Noah danced to his music over two crossed vine plants when he had discovered and enjoyed the inspiring effects of his first distillation from the fruits of his newly planted vineyard. So the tune was named after the piper. This “yarn,” to give it the only appropriate name, can easily be spoiled by anyone who tries, but the dance alluded to does seem to have been originally practised over vine plants. Swords, however, came to be more numerous in Scotland than vines, and they were substituted. Some historians assert that the Celts are descended from Gomer, the eldest son of Japheth, son of Noah, a theory which would go far to support the Gillidh Callum story, for if there were Celts in the days of the ark, why should there not have been a piper? There is, however, just about as much to prove either story as there is to prove that

and that is little enough.

That the bagpipe is an instrument of great antiquity is an admitted fact, but whether it is one of those referred to in Scripture is another matter. The pipe without the bag is mentioned in I. Sam. x. 5, Isaiah v. 12, and Jer. xlviii. 36, but the pipe without the bag is not the bagpipe. There have been many attempts made to identify the instrument with one or other of those named in Scripture, and in histories of Scripture times, but these are all based on conjecture. An instrument is mentioned which was composed of two reeds perforated according to rule, and united to a leathern bag, called in Persian nie amban; and in Egypt a similar instrument is described as consisting of two flutes, partly of wood and partly of iron. Another traveller tells of an Arabian instrument which consisted of a double chanter with several apertures, and in 1818 ancient engravings were found in the northern states of Africa which seemed to prove that an instrument like the bagpipe had existed in Scripture times. The Chaldeans and Babylonians had two peculiar instruments, the Sambuka and the Symphonia, and some historians identify the latter as the sackbut, the alleged ancestor of the bagpipe. Others assert that a form of the bagpipe was used in the services of the Temple at Jerusalem, but this in any case, may be treated as the merest of conjecture.

The historical references to the instrument as having existed at all in these days are few and far between:—

385 B.C.—Theocritus, a writer who flourished about this date, mentions it incidentally in his pastorals, but not in such a way as to give any indication of what form it assumed.

200 B.C.—An ancient terra cotta excavated at Tarsus by Mr. W. Burchhardt, and supposed to date from 200 B.C., represents a piper with a wind instrument with vertical rows of reed pipes, firmly attached to him. The instrument has also been found sculptured in ancient Nineveh.

A.D. 1.—There is a singular tradition in the Roman Catholic Church to the effect that the shepherds who first saw the infant Messiah in the stable expressed their gladness by playing on the bagpipe. This is, of course, possible, but there is only the tradition and the likelihood that the shepherds would have musical instruments of some kind to support the theory. Albrecht Durer, a famous German artist of the 16th century, has perpetuated the idea in a woodcut of the Nativity, in which he represents one of the shepherds playing on the pipes, but his work is, naturally, founded on the tradition. The illuminator of a Dutch missal in the library of King’s College, Aberdeen, has taken liberties with the tradition and given the bagpipe to one of the appearing angels, who uses it for playing a salute.

A.D. 54.—The cruel Emperor Nero was an accomplished musician, and a contorniate of his time has given rise to many assertions connecting him with the pipes. It is generally referred to as a coin, but it is in reality a contorniate or medal, which was given away at public sports. The sketch here reproduced (full-size) is from a specimen in the British Museum, and very little study will show that it proves almost nothing relating to the bagpipe. The obverse bears the head of Nero and the usual inscription. On the reverse there seems to be the form of a wind organ with nine irregular pipes, all blown by a bellows and having underneath what is probably a bag. It is more closely related to the organ than to the bagpipe, and, as has been said, it proves nothing. Some writers call the instrument on which Nero played a flute with a bladder under the performer’s arm, a description which does more to identify it as the bagpipe. It cannot have been considered a very honourable thing in Nero’s day to play the pipes, for the emperor on hearing of the last revolt, that which cost him his throne and his life, vowed solemnly that if the gods would but extricate him from his troubles he would play in public on the bagpipe, as a sort of penance or thank offering probably. Perhaps history has made a mistake, and it may have been the pipes and not the fiddle Nero played on while Rome was burning. The medal, it may be added, is believed by the authorities at the British Museum to date from about A.D. 330, although it bears the impress of Nero.

That the instrument was in use among the Romans is indisputable. A historian, who wrote a history of the wars of the Persians, the Vandals, and the Goths, states that the Roman infantry used it for marching purposes, and he describes it as having both skin and wood extremely fine. The name it went by was pythaula, a word of Greek origin, which bears a striking resemblance to the Celtic piob-mhala, pronounced piovala. There is in Rome a fine Greek sculpture in basso relievo representing a piper playing on an instrument closely resembling the Highland bagpipe, the performer himself being dressed not unlike a modern Highlander. It is shown besides on several coins, but from the rudeness of the drawings or their decay the exact form cannot be ascertained. A small bronze figure found under Richborough Castle, Kent, represents a Roman soldier playing on the bagpipe, but his whole equipment is curious. The precise form of the instrument itself is questionable, and the manner of holding it, the helmet, the ancient purse on one side and the short Roman sword and dagger on the other, all furnish matter for debate. About 1870 a stone was dug from the ground near Bo’ness, on which was sculptured a party of Roman soldiers on the march. They were dressed in short kilts, and one was playing the bagpipe. The instrument was very similar to those of the present day except that the drones were shorter.

A.D. 100.—Aristides Quintilianus, who lived about this time, writes to the effect that the bagpipe was known in the Scottish Highlands in his day. This, however, may be set aside as a reference of no value seeing that the Highlands was then an unknown world to the Greeks. The Greeks of the same age knew the instrument as Tibia utricularis, and from the pipes, we are told, the Athenian shepherds drew the sweetest sounds. Other books again tell us that the Athenians rejected the pipes because they disturbed conversation and made hearing difficult. Still others—English be it noted—contain the sentence, “Arcadia in Greece: the bagpipe was first invented here,” but the statement is not substantiated in any way.

A.D. 500.—In the sixth century the bagpipe is mentioned by Procopius, a Greek historian, as the instrument of the Roman infantry, the trumpet being that of the cavalry.

A.D. 800.—There is a picture of a primitive instrument copied from a manuscript of the ninth century. It consists of a blow pipe on one side of a small bag, with a sort of chanter having three or four holes and a beast’s head instead of the usual bell-shaped end. The instrument was held extended from the mouth, and the bag, if any pressure was necessary, must have been elastic, as it could not be pressed in any way.

A.D. 1118.—Giraldus Cambrensis, the historian, mentions the pipes about this date as Welsh and Irish, but not as Scottish. But The Complaynt of Scotland, written in 1548, states that the instrument was a favourite with the Scottish peasantry “from the earliest periods.” Another trustworthy record says it was in use in Scotland and Wales about the end of the twelfth century. Besides, Pennant in his Tour was told that it was mentioned in the oldest northern songs as the “soeck-pipe.” There is little doubt it was cultivated to some extent in Scotland in the twelfth century.

A.D. 1136.—There are, or at least were, in Melrose Abbey, built in 1136, two carvings representing bagpipes, but they are not supposed to be of a date so early as the abbey itself. The first, that of an aged musician, is given in Sir John Graham Dalziel’s Musical Memoirs of Scotland, published in 1849, but it cannot now be found in the abbey. If it existed when the book was written, it has succumbed since then to the action of the elements or the vandalism of the ignorant. The second, sketched on the spot, is one of those grotesque carvings which artists of early days, in what must have been a sarcastic humour, delighted in affixing to sacred buildings. It is a gargoyle in the form of a pig carrying a rude bagpipe under its head with the drone, the only pipe now remaining, on its left shoulder, and its fore feet, what is left of them, clasped around the bag. The mouth is open and the rain water off the roof runs through it. There is a tradition that as James IV. was not agreeing very well with the Highlanders the pig playing their favourite instrument was placed in the abbey as a satire. The chapel, however, on the outside of the nave of which the carving is, was built before the time of James IV. It is curious that all, or nearly all, the carvings on the outside of the abbey are ugly, some of them gruesome, while the figures on the inside are beautiful. This, it is supposed, was meant to convey the idea of Heaven inside and earth outside. In the architecture of the middle ages the gargoyle, or waterspout, assumed a vast variety of forms, often frightful, fantastic or grotesque. So the carving in Melrose Abbey may be simply the product of the artist’s imagination. Besides, a French architect had a good deal to do with the abbey, so the designs may not all be emblematic of Scottish life of the date when they were made. In Musical Memoirs of Scotland it is stated that the instrument had two drones, one on each side of the animal’s head, and a chanter which hung beneath its feet, these latter being placed on the apertures. The figure seems to have been very much worn away since this book was written.

A.D. 1200.—Coming down to ages of which we have better historical records, we find a drawing of the thirteenth century which shows a girl dancing on the shoulders of a jester to the music of the instrument in its simplest form, the chanter only.

A.D. 1300.—About the end of the thirteenth century the bagpipe in France was consigned to the lower orders, and only used by the blind and the wandering or mendicant classes. Polite society, however, resumed it in the time of Louis XIV. and Louis XV.

A.D. 1307.—Several payments to performers of the fourteenth and subsequent centuries are recorded. In the reign of Edward II. there is a payment to Jauno Chevretter (the latter word meant bagpiper) for playing before the king.

A.D. 1314.—The Clan Menzies are alleged to have had their pipes with them at Bannockburn, and they are supposed to have been played by one of the Mac Intyres, their hereditary pipers. The Clan Menzies claim that these pipes are still in existence, at least three portions of them—the chanter, which has the same number of finger holes as the modern chanter, but two additional holes on each side; the blowpipe, which is square, but graduates to round at the top; and the drone, of which the top half only remains. These relics, which are now preserved with great care, are supposed to be the remains of a set which were played to the clan when they mustered at Castle Menzies, and marched to join the main body of the Scottish army at Torwood, and in front of them on the field of battle. There are said to be Mac Donald pipes in existence, which consist of a chanter and blowpipe only, and which, it is alleged, were played before the Mac Donalds at Bannockburn. This, most likely, also refers to the Menzies pipes, as the Mac Intyres, who are credited with having been owners of each, were at different times pipers to the Menzies and to the Clan Ranald branch of the Mac Donalds. Bruce’s son, says another tradition, had pipes at Bannockburn. Sir Walter Scott represents the men of the Isles as charging to the sound of the bagpipe; and David Mac Donald, a Clan Mac Donald bard, who wrote about 1838, in a poem on the battle, says that when the bards began to encourage the clans, the pipers began to blow their pipes. There is, however, no historical proof that the instrument was used at the battle. Though horns and trumpets are mentioned by reliable historians, it is not till about two hundred years later that the bagpipe is referred to as having superseded the trumpet as an instrument of war.

A.D. 1327.—In the reign of Edward III. two pipers received permission to visit schools for minstrels beyond the seas, and from about that time till the sixteenth century the bagpipe was the favourite instrument of the Irish kerns.

A.D. 1362.—There is an entry in the Exchequer rolls of 1362 of forty shillings “paid to the King’s pipers,” which indicates the use of the pipes at that date.

A.D. 1370.—The arms of Winchester School, founded in 1370, show an angel playing a bagpipe, and a silver-mounted crosier, presented by the founder to the New College, Oxford, has among other figures that of an angel playing the bagpipe. Some enthusiast might surely have adduced the frequent connections of the instrument with angels as proof of its sacred origin.

A.D. 1377.—One “claryoner,” two trumpeters, and four pipers were attached to the fleet of Richard, Earl of Arundel (Richard II). The bagpipe often appears in the English sculpture of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and, of course, very frequently later.

A.D. 1380.—There are no English literary references to the pipes till the time of Chaucer, when the poet makes the miller in the Canterbury Tales play on the instrument:—

So it seems that the company of pilgrims left London, accompanied by the strains of the bagpipe. It must have been in fairly general use, else the poet would not have worked it into his composition, but there are no means of discovering how long before this it had been in favour in England.

A.D. 1390.—At the battle between the clans Quhale and Chattan on the North Inch of Perth, Rev. James Mac Kenzie tells us in his History of Scotland, which is generally accepted as authoritative, the clans “stalked into the barriers to the sound of their own great war pipes.”

A.D. 1400.—The bagpipe is supposed to have been first used officially in war in Britain at the beginning of the fifteenth century, quickly superseding the war-song of the bards.

A.D. 1406–37.—James I. of Scotland played on the “chorus,” a word which some interpret as meaning the bagpipe. Besides we are also told that he played on “the tabour, the bagpipes, the organ, the flute, the harp, the trumpet, and the shepherd’s reed.” He must have been a versatile monarch. If he really wrote Peblis to the Play, the fact proves that if he did not play the pipes he was quite familiar with their existence, for he says:—

And also in another place:—

Except that he gives us the first really authentic historical Scottish reference to the pipes, King James and his connection with the music is rather a puzzling subject.

A.D. 1409.—What is believed to be the oldest authentic specimen of the bagpipe now existing is that in the possession of Messrs. J. & R. Glen, of Edinburgh, which bears the date 1409. Except that it wants the large drone, which was added at the beginning of the eighteenth century, it is very much the Highland pipe of the present day. The following is a description of the instrument:—

“Highland bagpipe, having two small drones and chanter, finely ornamented with Celtic patterns carved in circular bands. The drones are inserted in a stock apparently formed from a forked branch, the fork giving the drones their proper spread for the shoulder. In the centre of the stock are the letters ‘R. Mc D,’ below them a galley, and below the galley is the date in Roman numerals, M:CCCC:IX. The letters both in the initials above the galley and in the numeral inscription are of the Gothic form commonly used in the fifteenth century. On the reverse of the stock is a triplet of foliageous scroll work. Bands of interlaced work encircle the ends of the forked part, which are bound with brass ferrules. The lower joint of one of the drones is ornamented with a band of interlaced work in the centre. The corresponding joint of the other drone is not original. The upper joints of the drones are ornamented at both extremities with interlaced work and the finger holes, seven in number, are greatly worn. The nail heads placed round the lower part of the bell of the chanter are decorated with engraved ornament. The bag and blowpipe are modern.”

It should be added that very little is known of the story of this old bagpipe, and the date carved on the stock is all that justifies us in attributing it to the fifteenth century. Also that its claims to antiquity are disputed by an instrument in the possession of the Duke of Sutherland, which is said to have been played at the battle of Sheriffmuir.

A.D. 1411.—We have the statement of Rev. James Mac Kenzie that at the Battle of Harlaw the Highland host came down “with pibrochs deafening to hear.” Mr. Mac Kenzie, however, wrote at quite a recent date, and it would be interesting to know his authority. We do know, of course, that what is now a pipe tune was played at Harlaw, but that in itself proves nothing, since the earliest known copy of the music is not arranged for the pipes.

A.D. 1419.—An inventory of the instruments in St. James’s Palace, made in 1419, specifies “four bagpipes with pipes of ivorie,” and another “baggepipe with pipes of ivorie, the bagge covered with purple vellat.”

A.D. 1430.—From this time on till the Reformation the bagpipe was fairly popular in the Lowlands of Scotland, and it is most likely that its use became general in the Highlands about 1500.

A.D. 1431.—At the battle of Inverlochy in 1431, we are told the pipes were played. This may have been supposed from the fact that we have a pipe tune of that date, but it is probable enough.

A.D. 1440.—In Rosslyn Chapel, Midlothian, built in 1440, there are two figures represented as playing the pipes. The first, an angelic piper, is of a class of which specimens are to be found in various sacred edifices throughout England. It is in the Lady Chapel, and is not therefore much noticed by visitors. The other figure is one of a pair which are carved as if they were supporting one end of one of the arches of the roof. What meaning they were supposed to convey it is impossible now to determine, but the representation of the piper is obvious enough.

A.D. 1485–1509.—In Henry VII.’s Chapel at Westminster there is a grotesque carving representing a bagpipe. Similar carvings appear at Hull, Great Yarmouth, Beverley, and Boston.

A.D. 1489.—In July, 1489, we find there was a payment of £8 8s. to “Inglis pyparis that com to the Castel (Edinburgh) and playit to the king;” and in 1505 another to “Inglis pipar with the drone.” So the instrument must have been as much English as Scottish at that time.

A.D. 1491.—Here again we find the “Inglis” piper to the front. In August of this year a party of them received seven unicorns, that is gold coins, at Linlithgow for playing to the king. Both of these payments are recorded in the accounts of the treasurer of the Royal household.

A.D. 1494.—In the ninth year of Henry VII. there was paid to “Pudsey, piper on the bagpipes,” 6s. 8d. Piping was not a short cut to fortune then more than it is now.

A.D. 1500.—At a sale of curios in London in the summer of 1899 a jug was disposed of on which there was a painting of a mule playing a bagpipe. The article fetched £200, but it cannot be proved that the painting dates from the sixteenth century, though that is the certified date of the jug. About this time the second drone was added.

A.D. 1506–1582.—George Buchanan is the first to mention the bagpipe in connection with Gaelic-speaking people, and when he does mention it, it is solely as a military instrument. The harp was still the domestic musical instrument.

A.D. 1509–1547.—We have a curious set of wood-cuts of the time of Henry VIII., one of which represents a piper dancing to the Dance of Death clothed according to the fashion of that time. He is dancing with a jester, who has the tonsure of a monk and wears a sort of kilt.^[1] We also know of a suit of armour made for Henry VIII. on which the figure of a piper is engraved.

A.D. 1513.—It is on record that John Hastie, the celebrated hereditary piper of Jedburgh, played at the battle of Flodden. There is a painting of this date by the German artist, Albrecht Durer, which represents a shepherd boy playing to his sheep on the bagpipe, and another which shows a piper leaning against a tree with a naked dirk at the left side and a purse exactly like a sporran suspended in front. Olaus Magnus, a Swedish prelate of the same century, affirms that a double pipe, probably the bagpipe, was carried by the shepherds to the pastures that their flocks might feed better.

A.D. 1529.—At a procession in Brussels in 1529 in honour of the Virgin Mary, “many wild beasts danced round a cage containing two apes playing on the bagpipes.” This statement may be taken for what it is worth. It is difficult to construct a theory that will explain it.

A.D. 1536.—In this year the bagpipe was played at church service in Edinburgh.

A.D. 1547–1553.—Among the musicians of Edward VI. at the Court of England was “Richard Woodward, bagpiper,” who had a salary of £12 13s. 4d., not a princely sum. An entertainment was got up at court in this reign, part of which was a “maske of bagpypes.” An artist “covered six apes of paste and cement with grey coney skinnes, which were made to serve for a maske of bagpypes, to sit upon the top of them like mynstrells as though they did play.” The English of these ancient writers is often a bit obscure, but this seems to mean that there was an imitation of bagpipe playing by counterfeit apes. The Brussels incident of 1529 may probably be explained in the same way.

A.D. 1548.—Among the eight musical instruments mentioned in The Complaynt of Scotland, written in 1548, there are included “ane drone bagpipe” and “ane pipe made of ane bleddir and of ane reid.”^[2]

A.D. 1549.—A French officer describing warfare near Edinburgh in 1549, says “The wild Scots encouraged themselves to arms by the sounds of their bagpipes.”

A.D. 1556.—In 1556 the Queen Regent of Scotland headed a procession in honour of St. Giles, the patron saint of Edinburgh, and she was “accompanied by bagpipers and other musicians.”

A.D. 1570.—In 1570 three St. Andrews pipers were admonished not to play on Sundays or at nights.

A.D. 1579.—We next come across Spenser and Shakespeare. In the Shepherd’s Calendar, Spenser makes a shepherd ask a down-hearted comrade:—

And Shakespeare, whose genius touched on everything above the earth and under it, but who does not seem to have had a high opinion of the “sweetness” of the bagpipe, says of a character that he is as melancholy as a glib cat, or a lugged bear, or an old lion, or a lover’s lute, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. In another place he speaks of men who “laugh, like parrots at a bagpiper,” and in yet another he infers that the instrument was more powerful than others then in use. “You would never,” he says, “dance again after a tabor or pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you.” He seems, however, to have known the utility even of his English pipes for marching purposes, for he concludes Much ado about Nothing with “Strike up, Pipers.” This phrase, by the way, must surely have been taken from the play, for it is always held as referring more to the bagpipe than to any other instrument. Generally speaking, Shakespeare’s references are more in the way of sarcasm than of praise.

A.D. 1581.—In 1581 we find James VI. returning from church at Dalkeith one Sunday with two pipers playing before him; and, strangely enough, a little nearer the end of the century, we read, two pipers were prosecuted for playing on the Sunday. At various times between 1591 and 1596 pipers from the Water of Leith bound themselves strictly not to play on the Sundays. There was evidently one law for the king and another for the subject.

A.D. 1584.—A poetical historian describing a battle between the English and the Irish in 1584 says:—

Then, when the battle was over, the piper having been killed:—

It is difficult to see how an instrument like the present Irish bagpipe could be of any use in war; but in 1601 a traveller, visiting the same country, confirms the statement that it belonged to the military.

In 1584 a man named Cockran “played on his bagpipe in a dramatic performance in Coventry.” An Irish bagpipe has been seen in London theatres on various occasions, and, of course, often enough in Scottish concert rooms. In 1798 a Mr. Courtney “played a solo on the union pipes in the quick movement of the overture with good effect” in a performance founded on Ossian’s poems.

A.D. 1594.—At the Battle of Balrinnes, a witch who accompanied the Earl of Argyll referred in a prediction to the bagpipe as the principal military instrument of the Scottish mountaineers.

A.D. 1597.—In a court case at Stirling in 1597 we are told that “W. Stewart brought into the kirkyard twa or three pyperis, and thereby drew in grit nowmer of people to dans befoir the kirk dur on tyme of prayeris, he being always the ringleader himself.” Mr. Stewart must have had peculiar ideas of the fitness of things.

A.D. 1598.—An unpublished poem by Rev. Alex. Hume, minister of Logie, about 1598, contains the lines:—

So at this date there was a difference between the Highland pipes, the Lowland, and the Hibernian. The instrument was, in fact, becoming recognised as peculiar to the Highlands, in the one specific form at least.

A.D. 1601.—In 1601 Moryson, the traveller, visiting Ireland during a rebellion, says that “near Armagh a strong body of insurgents approached the camp of regulars with cries and sounds of drummers and bagpipes as if they would storm the camp. After that our men had given them a volley in their teeth, they drew away, and we heard no more of their drummers and bagpipes, but only mournful cries, for many of their best men were slain.”

A.D. 1617.—When James I. came to Scotland in 1617 and decorated Holyrood with images of many kinds, he did not clear out the bagpipes from the Palace, jokingly remarking that as they had some relation to the organ they might remain.

A.D. 1623.—Playing on the “great pipe” was a charge made against a piper at Perth in 1623. The term great pipe would seem to indicate that the instrument was evolved from a previous kind, and is an argument in favour of the theory that the pipes were not “introduced” into Scotland, but are of native origin, and have been gradually developed up to their present condition.

A.D. 1650.—“Almost every town hath bagpipes in it,” says a writer of the year 1650.

A.D. 1653.—In 1653 a woman pleaded for exemption from censure because “English soldiers brought over a piper with them and did dance in her house.” That, she thought, was sufficient excuse for any shortcomings in the management of her household.

A.D. 1662.—A Kirkcaldy man, who shot his father in 1662, sought liquor from an acquaintance to help to wile away his melancholy, and “there comes a piper, and this wretched man went and did dawnce.” The music evidently was enough to dispel all the terrors of the law.

A.D. 1700.—About the beginning of the nineteenth century the big drone was added to the bagpipe, distinguishing it henceforth from the Lowland and Northumbrian.

A.D. 1741.—On a political occasion in 1741 the Magistrates of Dingwall were welcomed home by the ringing of bells, “while young and old danced to the bagpipe, violin, and Jewish harp.” Rather a curious medley they would make.

A.D. 1745.—Prince Charlie had a large number of pipers with him in his rebellion of 1745. After the battle of Prestonpans his army marched into Edinburgh, a hundred pipers playing the Jacobite air, “The King shall enjoy his ain again:” and when he marched to Carlisle he had with him a hundred pipers. Perhaps it was because of its prominence in his rebellion that the bagpipe was afterwards classed by the ruling powers as an instrument of warfare, the carrying of which deserved punishment.

A.D. 1775.—In this year we find the first reference to a professional maker of bagpipes. In the Edinburgh Directory for 1775, a book that could be carried in the vest pocket, “Hugh Robertson” is entered as “pipe maker, Castle Hill, Edinburgh.” It was this same Hugh Robertson who made the prize pipes competed for at the meetings inaugurated by the Highland Society of London some time later, and an instrument of his make which took first prize at one of the competitions was recently in the possession of Mr. David Glen, Edinburgh. Where it now is cannot be discovered, as Mr. Glen parted with it to one of whose whereabouts he is not aware.

It is not necessary to trace the instrument farther down through the years. In Scotland, after it overcame the setback of the ’45, it became more popular year by year until at last in 1824, we find an English traveller saying that “the Scots are enthusiastic in their love for their national instrument. In Edinburgh the sound of the bagpipe is to be heard in every street.” The Lowland, the Northumberland and the Irish pipes lost favour, and the Lincolnshire—that referred to by Shakespeare—has been totally extinct since about 1850. The Great Highland Bagpipe is the only form that has held its own.

The early history of the Celts affords abundant room for controversy, and the origin of the pipes, their introduction into, or evolution in, the Highlands, will always be debateable matter. The weight of evidence, however, goes to show that the pipes and pipe music are far more likely to have been evolved out of the life of the Highland people than imported from any other country. The fact that the instrument is not mentioned in early Scottish history is no proof that it did not exist. Besides, we have now got away from the habit of trying to find the origin of things peculiarly Scottish outside of Scotland. It used to be the fashion to decry everything local to Scotland, and our clans, even, traced their origin to Norman and Norwegian sources. That time, however, is past, and now Highlanders pride themselves on an ancestry which, however far back it is traced, is still Scottish. So with the pipes. They have been in Scotland from all time, and it is in Scotland that they have been brought to the highest degree of perfection. The importation theory will not stand the test of inquiry. If the pipes came from Norway, or Rome, or any part of the Continent, or even England, how is it that in these places they have deteriorated almost to the point of disappearance, while in Scotland they have been continually developing? Ireland, indeed, can put forward a good claim—Christianity came from there, the peoples are the same, and the relations between the two countries in early days were very close—but there is less to uphold the claim than there is to show that the pipes are native to the Highlands. They are not mentioned in Ossianic poetry. In these times, however, the pipes would be so subordinate to the harp that their passing-by by the poet is a fact of little significance. If the Celts were the original inhabitants of the Highlands, and can be identified with the Picts—a theory for which there is very strong argument indeed—there is surely nothing more likely than that the pipes were always in existence among the people. Robertson, in his Historical Proofs of the Highlanders, shows clearly that there has never been a radical change of race or customs in the Highlands, that the music of the Great Highland Bagpipe has ever been peculiar to the Gael of Alban, and that the Irish Scots must have learned it from the Caledonian Picts. It is strong presumptive evidence in favour of his contention that in no other country has the instrument been developed in the same way, that it is one of the very few national musical instruments in Europe, and that in no other country is there such a quantity of peculiar music of such an age, composed solely for the instrument, and fitted only for interpretation by it.

There is nothing in the music that connects it with any part of the Continent, or that shows that it was borrowed from any particular place. The pibroch cannot possibly have come from the Tyrol or Italy, neither can the reels and other popular melodies. The importation theory grew out of the ideas entertained of the rude and uncivilised state of Scotland at an early period, which was considered altogether incompatible with the delicacy of taste and feeling its poetry and music displayed. But the student of Highland history soon discovers that, with all the rudeness, there existed among the people just that delicacy of taste and feeling which found expression in the music, and he at once concludes that the music is a real growth of the home soil. The race were always in the land: why not their language, their music, their customs, in a more or less rude form?

Passing from debateable ground, the result of our assorting of quotations seems to be that the first thoroughly authentic reference to the bagpipe in Scotland dates from 1406, that it was well known in Reformation times, that the second drone was added about 1500, that it was first mentioned in connection with the Gaelic in 1506, or a few years later, that it was classed in a list of Scottish musical instruments in 1548, that in 1549 and often afterwards it was used in war, that in 1650 every town had a piper, that in 1700 the big drone was added, and that in 1824 the Scots were enthusiastic about the pipes. There is not the slightest doubt, of course, that the instrument was used in Scotland for many years, probably for centuries, before we can trace it, but previous to the dates given we have only tradition and conjecture to go by.

From 1700 till 1750 was perhaps the most critical time in the story of the Great Highland Bagpipe. The disaster at Culloden nearly spelt ruin for the pipes as well as for the tartan. The Disarming Act was very stringent, and the pipes came in for almost as strict a banning as did the kilt. The Jacobites were outlawed, the tartan was pronounced a mark of extreme disloyalty to the House of Hanover, and the life of a professed piper was hardly worth living. The Celt was crushed by the severity of his defeat and broken by the inrush of innovation that followed. Clanship, as such, ceased, and the chiefs, from being the fathers of their people, became the landlords. The Highlander lost his reckless passions, but he also lost his rude chivalry and his absorbing love for the old customs. Traditional history and native poetry were neglected, and theological disputes of interminable duration occupied much of the time formerly devoted to poetic recitals and social meetings. Poverty and civilisation did their work; taste for music declined, and piping died away. Absentee landlordism took the place of resident chieftainism, and Gaelic seemed likely to become a dead language, for the people seemed willing to let it die. The destruction of the crofter system completed the work of ruin begun by the destruction of the clan system. What this meant for Highland feelings and customs is vividly shown by the following extract from the writings of the elder Dr. Norman Macleod, Caraid nan Gaidheal, as he was called. The speaker is “Finlay the Piper.”

“There, indeed, you are right; he was the man that had a kind heart. But this new man that has come in his place has a heart of remarkable hardness, and cares not a straw for the pipes or anything that belongs to the Highlands. He is a perfect fanatic in his passion for big sheep. It brings more enjoyment to him to look at a wether parading on green braes than to listen to all the pibrochs that ever were played. If I were to compose a pibroch for him, I would call it ‘Lament for the Big Wether,’ the wether that fell over the rock the other day, the loss of which almost drove him mad. It’s not I that would be caring to say this to everybody; but as you happen to be with me on the spot there can be no harm in telling you how he treated the poor people here. There is not now smoke coming out of single chimney or sheiling in the whole glen, where you used to see scores of decent people working at honest work. This man would as soon give lodgment to a fox as to a poor crofter or a widow woman. You never heard in your life what a mangling and maiming he has made of the population of this glen. Not even a shepherd would he have from the people of the country; he brought them all in from the south. Even his shepherd’s dog does not understand a word of Gaelic. Mactalla of the Crag has not sent back a single echo since good Donald went away. Everything must make way for the sheep. There is not a single brake now in which a bramble would grow; no tuft of brushwood on the slope where one could gather a nut; he has shaved the country as bare as the gable wall of a house, and as for sloes, where sloes used to be you may as well go and look for grapes. The birds, too, have left us; they have gone to the wood on the other side of the Sound; even the gay cuckoo cannot find a single stunted bush where it might hide. He has burnt all the wild wood that ran so prettily up the slope from end to end of this property. You won’t gather as many sticks from the brushwood as would serve to boil a pot of potatoes, or as many twigs as would make a fishing basket. But no more of this; it makes my heart sick to think of it. Better to be talking of something else.”

The new era dawned, however. The dawn came so slowly that it was hardly noticed. The rabid anti-Highland feeling died away, the powers that were took a sensible view of the situation, and in the reaction that followed the music of the pipes quickly regained its old position of pre-eminence. With this difference, however—it returned to popularity as a social instead of a military force, destined in the Highlands to be the pursuit of the enthusiast and the beloved of the common people, and in the British army only, the inspiration that leads men on to slay one another. In this respect the suppression of the rebellions of 1715 and 1745 marks a turning point in Scottish history, the importance of which has never been recognised. With Culloden ended the influence of old beliefs, and when, in 1782, the ban of the Disarming Act was removed, the people were ready for new ideas. A spirit of improvement and an enthusiasm for things Highland appeared, first modestly, then boldly, and under the auspices of a renovated society, without the environments of war and romance, a new order asserted itself. Competitions stirred up the more clever of the piping fraternity, and further popularised the music, books on Highland piping, written or compiled by leading pipers, began to appear, and with the publication broadcast of histories of the many tunes, the people began to take an intelligent and patriotic interest in the music. The Highlands is not now a barbarous and unknown land. It is classic ground, having been made so by the pens of clever writers, but the old instrument is still the emblem of the homeland to Highlanders all over the world, and, whatever dies out, many generations will not see the last of the pibroch.