Is There Actual History in the Song “With a Hundred Pipers”?

I’ve written about the history of conflict between England and Scotland in several other posts, but if you’re coming to this material without having read those a bit of background is in order. Scotland and England fought each other for centuries, but it looked as though things were settled in 1603, when Queen Elizabeth I died and left no children, naming the king of Scotland, her cousin James Stuart, as her heir. He became James I of England and in theory united the countries. (He is perhaps most famous for commissioning the King James Bible.)

Alas, relations between the two countries did not remain peaceful. A big bone of contention was religion, even though both countries were Protestant. Charles I, James’ son, riled the Scots by his determination to control Scottish church government. England was also determined not to go back to the Roman Catholic church. In 1688 James II, who was James I’s grandson, was kicked off the throne over this very issue. He had converted to Roman Catholicism before becoming king, and his second wife was French and Catholic.  But his first wife had been Protestant and English and his two daughters from that marriage had been raised Anglican. So the English kept their fingers crossed that he wouldn’t have any sons from this second wife. A male heir would automatically take his place at the front of the succession line, but James was 51 when he became king and his wife had a long history of miscarriages and stillbirths. So what could possibly go wrong? Well, as it turned out, a lot. James’ wife did indeed finally produce a surviving son, and a Catholic dynasty seemed in the offing. England rose up against him and offered the throne to Mary of Orange, the eldest daughter of James’ first marriage, and her husband William. (“Orange” is a region in The Netherlands.)

James fled to France with his family. There were periodic attempts by the Jacobite party (“Jacob”=“James”) to get James II’s descendants back on the throne, especially James’ grandson, Charles Edward Stuart, nicknamed “Bonnie Prince Charlie.” Many are the romantic tales of this prince-in-name-only, who was apparently a pretty good military leader as well as being quite dashing in appearance. You can see the hero worship in the lyrics of “Pipers,” with its descriptions of his “bonnet and feathers,” his horse that almost “seems to fly,” and his “curly hair.” He led a temporarily successful invasion of England which is the subject of the song. In 1745 the Jacobite army took Carlisle Castle (“Carlisle Ha’”) after crossing the Esk River in spite of English opposition (causing the river to run “sae red and sae deep”) and got as far south as Derby, but there was never any real chance that the uprising could get Charlie on the throne. The Jacobites retreated back to Scotland over the prince’s strenuous objections, and at the Battle of Culloden in 1746 it was all over for them. Charlie fled back to France (at one point disguised as a lady’s maid) and spent the rest of his life in exile, spending his time mainly in acquiring mistresses and drinking. He died in 1788.

And what of the song itself? Is it a true folk song, with many variations and no known author? Well, no. It wasn’t written until about 100 years after the battle by the Scottish songwriter Lady Carolina Naime, whose family had Jacobite connections. She’s been a little free with the actual historical facts, but so what? At least the number of the pipers seems to be correct: according to a reputable history Charles “entered Carlisle on a white horse, with a hundred pipers playing before him, whose shrill music was not calculated to inspire the citizens with confidence in their grotesque conquerors.” (Wikipedia) I’ll just point out a couple of interesting references in the lyrics: First, “second-sighted Sandy” doesn’t seem to have any confidence in the success of the mission, as he looks “full of woe.” Scottish folklore had the idea that a seventh child, or the seventh child of a seventh child, was born with the Second Sight, or the ability to see the future. Second, the reference to “tartan kilts” is a little misleading, as the whole idea of clan tartans didn’t really take off until the time of the song, not the battle. But perhaps we’ll just pass gently over that issue.

It’s certainly fair to say that doomed causes seem to inspire inspiring music. The piece rousingly paints the picture of the “brave lads” plunging into the river and dancing themselves dry as they fight off the “dumbfoundered” English troops. The bagpipes are skirling, the men are shouting their battle cries, and the gallant figure on the flying horse leads them on. Meanwhile the mothers back home weep as they wonder if their boys will ever come back.

Here’s a nice performance that has dancing added, although it’s not a choral version. Interestingly, the performance is in Berlin:

And I couldn’t resist including this scene using the tune from an old Abbott and Costello film. (The singers are really good!)

And here’s a comparison of the two flavors of the lyrics:

The English translation is the intellectual property of evfokas, and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.