The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

THE EXPEDITION OF HUMPHRY CLINKER 241
an antient Briton called Madoc-ap-Morgan, ap-Jenkin, ap-Jones,
our Highland chief designs himself Dou’l Mac-amish mac-’oul
ich-ian, signifying Dougal, the son of James, the son of Dougal,
the son of John—He has travelled in the course of his education,
and is disposed to make certain alterations in his domestic œco-
nomy; but he finds it impossible to abolish the antient customs of
the family; some of which are ludicrous enough—His piper, for
example, who is an hereditary officer of the household, will not
part with the least particle of his privileges—He has a right to wear
the kilt, or antient Highland dress, with the purse, pistol, and durk
—a broad yellow ribbon, fixed to the chanter-pipe, is thrown over
his shoulder, and trails along the ground, while he performs the
function of his minstrelsy; and this, I suppose, is analogous to the
pennon or flag which was formerly carried before every knight in
battle—He plays before the laird every Sunday in his way to the
kirk, which he circles three times, performing the family march,
which implies defiance to all the enemies of the clan; and every
morning he plays a full hour by the clock, in the great hall, march-
ing backwards and forwards all the time, with a solemn pace,
attended by the laird’s kinsmen, who seem much delighted with
the music—In this exercise, he indulges them with a variety of
pibrachs or airs, suited to the different passions, which he would
either excite or assuage.
Mr. Campbell himself, who performs very well on the violin,
has an invincible antipathy to the sound of the Highland bag-pipe,
which sings in the nose with a most alarming twang, and, indeed,
is quite intolerable to ears of common sensibility, when aggravated
by the echo of a vaulted hall—He therefore begged the piper would
have some mercy upon him, and dispense with this part of the
morning service—A consultation of the clan being held on this
occasion, it was unanimously agreed, that the laird’s request could
not be granted without a dangerous encroachment upon the
customs of the family—The piper declared, he could not give up
for a moment the privilege he derived from his ancestors; nor
would the laird’s relations forego an entertainment which they
valued above all others—There was no remedy; Mr. Campbell,
being obliged to acquiesce, is fain to stop his ears with cotton; to
fortify his head with three or four night-caps, and every morning
retire into the penetralia of his habitation, in order to avoid this
diurnal annoyance. When the music ceases, he produces himself