Postwar Piobaireachd

A gaunt white-haired Scotsman named Archibald Campbell spoke of bagpipes in loving, Scottish terms: "You know of course they were invented by some fellow who . . . wanted to make noise, so he had the bright idea of killing a sheep, using its skin as a bag, and sticking a pipe in it. Then, of course, he just stuck more pipes in to make more noise."

For two days last week in the first postwar piping competition of Scotland's Piobaireachd* (pronounced peebrook) Society, 35 brightly kilted professional bagpipers skirled and wailed like caterwauling cats on the warpath. To protect the pipes from the hazards of the Inverness climate, the contest, usually an outdoor affair, was held in a small, grey stone hall. The hall's acoustics put the pipes out of tune, and their braying was flatter than ever.

The pipers solemnly paced and danced about the stage as they piped marches and piobaireachds, a kind of wailing dirge which sounds like the cries of caged animals. Said Archibald Campbell: "We purists are passionately devoted to the piobaireachd." When the last piper had piped, one of the judges complained of a cramp and was heard to mutter: "Och, it's a terrible long business, terrible long." Another admitted to "a little pressure around the temples." The judges sadly agreed that the war years had not improved the quality of the pipers.

First prize went to Pipe-Major Robert Reid, a tightly muscled Glasgow bagpipe-maker and veteran of two wars. Said he: "I would never have played the pipes if it hadna bin for ma father, but he was a stern mon and kept me to it ever since I was six years old." Pipe-Major Reid's twelve-year-old son is doing very well on the chanter, a pipe without the bag--but, said Reid, "he winna take the bag."

*Piobaireachd was anglicized to pibroch in the 18th Century but Gaelic purists still cling to the ancient spelling.

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