Bring Forrit The Tartan
Willie Shand weaves through the history of Scotland’s famous fabric.
I Nthe kilts of a pipe band, on a carpet, a travelling rug, blanket or even just decorating a tin of shortbread: wherever it is, you’ll find tartan in every corner of the globe.
And, for anyone with even the slightest hint of Scottish blood, the sight of it can be enough to spark homesickness and transport them to the hills and glens of Scotland.
Its distinctive patterns and designs have been woven through the country’s history and culture, so much so that it has evolved into Scotland’s national costume.
To the Scots, though, it’s more than just a costume.
Besides the romantic vision of the Highlands, its designs invoke thoughts of courage and hardiness and a strong connection to the land.
Few other national costumes can instil a greater sense of pride and belonging.
Whether I’ve been invited to a friend’s wedding or I’m heading off to a ceilidh dance or some black tie function, I never need to think long on what to wear.
Formal or informal, the kilt is the perfect choice.
It doesn’t matter what season it is, either. It’ll keep you warm in winter and nice and cool in summer.
Shands don’t really have a “clan” tartan as such, but the tartan I wear is the Ancient Graham.
Not that the clans before the mid-1700s would have had their own particular tartans anyway – that idea was probably largely owed to Victorian romanticism and to the mills catching on to an idea that would surely create more interest and orders.
That said, in early times when the material would have been woven locally, variations between different glens or areas might well have made it possible to guess by their dress where one person or another came from.
Like all national costumes, Scotland’s has evolved down the centuries.
Cutting across Scotland between Stonehaven and Arran is the Highland Boundary Fault.
To the south lie the Lowlands, while to the north are the Highlands.
In the past, that unmarked boundary was more of a divide than it is now.
The Highlanders even dressed differently, with their clothes more suited to their environment.
When tartan first came to the fore is lost in the mists of time, but it may go back as much as 2,000 years.
The passage of time has also thrown a veil over the origins of the name itself.
Some believe it could stem from the Irish and Scots words “tuar” and “tan” for colour and district.
Others suggest that it’s from the French “tiretaine” and a quality of cloth.
Some of the earliest tartans had simple black and white check patterns – the black wool coming from black sheep and the white from white sheep.
This evolved into more colourful designs as folk discovered the art of making natural dyes.
From broom and whin that can be found in most places, green dyes were produced. From bog myrtle and St John’s wort, yellow; elderberry gave blue, dulse a brown colour, and so on.
It was a skilful art, too, as the plants had to be picked at the right time and only certain parts could be used.
When the old techniques became obsolete, many of the secrets of creating natural dyes were lost.
A forerunner to the kilt as we know it today was the belted plaid, or “feileadh mor”.
A few years ago, at Pitlochry Games, it was quite amusing watching a demonstration of how to dress yourself in the plaid.
A giant piece of cloth – as much as 16 yards of material – would be laid on the ground over the belt. It would be neatly pleated.
The wearer would then lie down and fasten the belt so that the lower half formed a kilt and the upper part the plaid, which was then pinned over the left shoulder.
That left the right arm free for the sword.
It was a handy garment, too. At night, sleeping out in the heather, it could double as a warm blanket.
Even warmer, they say, if it’s soaked in a burn then wrung out.
Sounds a bit odd that you’d want a wet blanket, but it reminds me in a way of something my old piping tutor once told me.
During the war, before a long route march, some of the men would deliberately jump in a
burn to get their boots wet to keep their feet comfortable and free from blisters.
Can’t say I’m encouraged to try it!
Wherever Scots have settled, you’ll find Highland Games with the Chieftain, heavy competitors, pipe bands, Highland dancers and many of the spectators well decked in tartan.
Most will be wearing the “little kilt” or “feileadh bheag”.
This is a natural evolution from the lower half of the plaid and has the pleats now more neatly stitched and permanent.
While Scots are extremely proud to wear the tartan, that pride was to take a serious knock in 1746 thanks to Bonnie Prince Charlie and his Jacobite supporters.
Following the Jacobites’ defeat at Culloden, the government proscribed the wearing of tartan for all but the Hanoverian supporting militia.
At the same time, a ban was imposed on the carrying of weapons and even on playing the bagpipes. This ban stood for some 35 years.
It was strictly enforced, bringing heavy penalties to anyone found ignoring it.
First offenders would get six months in prison. Get caught twice and they were off across the seas to the plantations for seven years!
If you’ve ever driven over Clachan Bridge (the Bridge over the Atlantic) on to Seil Island, you’ll have passed the Tigh an Truish Inn.
From the Gaelic, it means the House of the Trousers – a name that harks back to that period of proscription.
The islanders may have felt safe defying the ban on their own island, but before crossing the bridge to the mainland they’d go into the inn, hang up their kilts on pegs, and exchange them for trousers.
One of the dances performed on the boards at most Highland Games is the Seann Triubhas – the steps said to represent the Highlanders kicking off the trews in favour of the kilt.
By the time the ban had been lifted, virtually a whole generation had passed and the connection with the old traditions had been broken.
Impoverished and demoralised, to go back to their old dress would have been an expense many couldn’t really afford.
If any two people can be credited with reigniting the interest in tartan they must be Sir Walter Scott and Queen Victoria.
In 1822, King George IV visited Edinburgh – the first reigning monarch to visit Scotland for over 150 years.
This visit was very much thanks to the influence of Scott.
The visit attracted great pomp and circumstance and a splendid display of tartan among the old Clan Chiefs and in the King’s own dress.
The King was dressed in full Highland costume in Royal Stuart tartan, which in today’s money would have cost the better part of £150,000.
Scott himself wore the Campbell tartan.
As for Queen Victoria, well, she just loved everything about tartan.
It was Prince Albert who designed the Balmoral Tartan in 1853. It can only be worn by members of the British Royal Family.
The only other person allowed to wear it is the Queen’s personal piper.
After King George’s visit, the mills were never busier as orders for tartan flooded in from around the world.
By attaching patterns and designs to clan names, even if they bore little or no relationship to the past, the mills managed to stimulate demand even further.
Today, tartan is not only symbolic of the Highlands but of Scotland as a whole.
Although generally elevated to being worn at the more dressy occasions, there’s still that vision of the fearless Highlander defending his territory.
In 1857, during the Indian mutinies at Lucknow, Lord Clyde gave the order for his 93rd Highlanders to attack – “Bring forrit the Tartan! Let my own lads at them!” ■