Annotation:Keappoch's Farewell
X:1 T:Keappoch’s Farewell M:C L:1/16 R:Strathspey B:”Printed and Sold by Stewart & Co. Music Sellers South Bridge Street” (c. 1793-1802, p. 3) N:Untitled, unattributed collection of 12 airs. However the Catalog of the Wighton Collection N:gives that it was printed for Alexander Campbell, editor of Albyn's Anthology B:https://digital.nls.uk/special-collections-of-printed-music/archive/118867824 Z:AK/Fiddler’s Companion K:Gmin DG3G3F G3AB3d|c3BA3G F4 G3F|DG3G3F G3AB3d|c3BAd3 G4G4:| g3ag3f ga3b4|fd3c3A F4 GA3|B3cB3A Bc3d3B|c3BAd3 G4 G2f2| g3ag3f d3cBd3|cf3c3A F4 G3F|DG3G3F G3AB3d|g3d d/c/B/A/ G2G2||
KEAPPOCH'S FAREWELL. Scottish, Strathspey (whole time). G Minor. Standard tuning (fiddle). AAB. "Keppoch's Farewell" is contained in a small four-page collection by an unattribed composer or editor, that is simply entitled: "Edinr. Printed & Sold by Stewart & Co. Music Sellers South Bridge Street." However the Catalog of the Wighton Collection gives that it was printed for Alexander Campbell, editor of Albyn's Anthology (1815), and it is likely Campbell composed the contents. The title honors the MacDonald of Keppoch family, and may refer to the legendary death of MacDonald of Keppoch at Culloden. Home, in his History of the Rebellion (1802) writes:
When the Macdonalds' regmiment retreated without having atempted to attack sword in hand, Macdonald of Keppoch advanced with his drawn sword in one hand and his pistol in the other: he had got but a little was from his regiment when he was wounded by a musket-shot and fell. A friend, who had followed, conjuring him not to throw his life away, said the would was not mortal--that he might easily rally his regiment, and retreat with them. Keppoch desired him to take care of himself, and, going on, received another musket-shot, and fell to rise no more.
The 'friend' is identified by Sir Walter Scott as Donald, Keppoch's nephew, who had followed him in the fray:
t was equally in vain that the gallant Keppoch charged with a few of his near relations, while his clan, a thing before unheard of, remained stationary. The chief was near the front of the enemy, and was exclaiming, with feelings which cannot be appreciated, "My God, have the children of my tribe forsaken me!" At this instant he received several shots, which closed his earthly account, leaving him only time to advise his favourite nephew to shift for himself.
