THE RIGHT NOTE
Whether it’s a battle cry or a joyful celebration, the emotive power of the pipes is undeniable for Fiona Armstrong.
There's nothing more moving for Fiona Armstrong than the skirl of the pipes
Afriend sends a rather nice surprise in the post – and an interesting one, too. It is a book of MacGregor pipe tunes – and it contains a dozen or so ditties, all connected with this unruly tribe.
The ‘Braes of Balquhidder’ celebrates the west Perthshire glen the clan calls home. ‘The Young MacGregor’ was written in 1938 for the chief’s father. Meanwhile, ‘Miss MacGregor’s Favourite’ was composed for his great great great aunt (we believe that it may have been designed by none other than Queen Victoria’s piper).
It is an uplifting sound, but not all the airs mentioned are quite so jolly. The ‘Rout of Glen Fruin’ remembers an ancient feud. The year was 1603, when a band of MacGregors massacred a family of unfortunate Colquhouns. The fight was brutal and bloody, and as usual in those days, the disagreement started on ‘a trifling matter’.
It was something to do with stealing a lamb and eating it. And in the ensuing battle some eight hundred perished. Well, it may have been two hundred who were slain, but as they say in my trade: why let the facts spoil a good story? Whatever the count, there was much weeping and wailing in Loch Lomond that day. It was an unlucky twenty-four hours for the MacGregors because the Scottish king was shown the bloodstained shirts of their victims. He was highly squeamish – and the clan was duly outlawed.
As the wife of a Scottish chief I have listened to my fair share of laments. One time in a hotel near Culloden there was four hours of it. Piobaireachds wailing. Ears ringing in a smallish room as judges judged and expert pipers paced up and down the carpet. It was all rather draining. And if that sounds sarcastic, I apologise, for there is no more evocative sound than the bagpipes.
That skirl has brought so many mixed emotions over the years – striking fear in the hearts of the enemy, saluting the fallen, or bringing joy to loved ones.
A lone piper on the battlements can lift the hairs on the back of your neck. A massed band can whip the audience into a frenzy. Yes, when it comes to the pipes, Scots can pump it out loud and proud.
And it’s not just ‘oor ain folk’. India, Nigeria, Germany and Mexico. You name it, they’re playing it. Clad in tartan, of course.
But back to the book. Although neither of us can read music, we sit down to spend a fair bit of time browsing through the pages. The notes are fascinating. For example, I discover that the MacGregors weren’t always making a nuisance of themselves. Indeed, they once had a piping school on Loch Tay.
As the list of composers is detailed, I muse on how nice it would be to have your own pipe tune. Like having a rose named after you. That was always a dream when younger. Or a fishing fly. ‘Fiona’s Fancy’ was tied many moons ago. Nothing fancied it then and I can still report that continues to be the sad case.
But to have your own pipe tune… ‘Fiona’s Frolic’ perhaps? And after I have my own air composed, perhaps the MacNaughties can have their melodies, too. The naughty Norfolk Terrier might have ‘Rummies Reflections’. The Cocker Spaniel could have ‘Barra’s Beat’. Which is all too silly, I hear you say. Who is this woman?
I quite agree. But that’s what having all this time on your hands does. It’s what lockdown can lead to. So fingers crossed, they will soon finally let us out…
‘A lone piper on the battlements can lift the hairs on the back of your neck’