Scotland’s distinctive musical instrument makes a strong impression on an unprepared visitor.
A few moments later, a folding door opened at the bottom of the room, and to my great surprise, I saw a Scottish Highlander enter … playing upon the bagpipe, and walking up and down an empty space with rapid steps and a military air, blowing the noisiest and most discordant sounds from an instrument which lacerates the ear. The air he played was a kind of sonata, divided into three parts. Smith begged me to give it my whole attention, and to tell him afterwards the impression it made on me.
But I confess at first I could not distinguish neither air nor design. I only saw the piper marching away with rapidity, and with the same warlike countenance. He made incredible efforts both with his body and his fingers to bring into play at once the different pipes of his instrument, which made an unsupportable uproar.
He received nevertheless great applause from all sides. A second musician followed into the arena, wearing the same martial look and walking to and fro with the same martial air …
After having listened to eight pipers in succession, I began to suspect that the first part was connected with a warlike march and military evolutions: the second with a sanguinary battle, which the musician sought to depict by the noise and rapidity of his playing and by his loud cries. He seemed then to be convulsed; his pantomimical gestures resembled those of a man engaged in combat; his arms, his hands, his head, his legs, were all in motion; the sounds of his instrument were all called forth and confounded together at the same moment. This fine disorder seemed keenly to interest every one. The piper then passed, without transition, to a kind of andante; his convulsions suddenly ceased; the sounds of his instrument were plaintive, languishing, as if lamenting the slain who were being carried off from the field of battle. This was the part which drew tears from the eyes of the beautiful Scottish ladies. But the whole was so uncouth and extraordinary; the impression which this wild music made upon me contrasted so strongly with that which it made upon the inhabitants of the country, that I am convinced we should look upon this strange composition not as essentially belonging to music, but to history …
The same air was played by each competitor, of whom there was a considerable number. The most perfect equality was maintained among them; the son of the laird stood on the same footing with the simple shepherd, often belonging to the same clan, bearing the same name, and having the same garb. No preference was shown here save to talent, as I could judge from the hearty plaudits given to some who seemed to excel in that art. I confess it was impossible for me to admire any of them. I thought them all of equal proficiency: that is to say, the one was as bad as the other; and the air that was played as well as the instrument itself involuntarily put me in mind of a bear’s dance.