Thirty Years a Piper to Royalty: James Cubison Campbell

Discovering interesting characters in my family history is one of the reasons I’m addicted to genealogy. James Cubison Campbell, a very distant first cousin four times removed, is one such character.

James’s life started humbly enough. He was the sixth of ten children born to William Campbell, a shepherd, later a sheep dealer, and Elizabeth (Betty) Irvine. Born in 1853, James lived most of his early life in Kintail, a remote mountainous area in the rugged Scottish Highlands county of Ross and Cromarty.

The Coomassie campaign medal, which James was awarded

In the 1871 census, the Campbells were living in the Corrynagullan Shepherd House, in Kintail but, soon after this, James left the family home to join the army. He must have learnt to play the bagpipes as a child because he served with the 42nd Royal Highland Regiment, the Black Watch, as a piper. During 1873-74 James served in the Ashanti Campaign, in West Africa, where the 42nd played a leading role in the successful advance to Coomassie through dense jungle. He was also stationed in Malta for a time, was with the army of occupation in Cyprus in 1878, and spent some time in Gibraltar.

Dress of a 42nd Royal Highlanders piper
in 1856. From Peter Cochrane, Scottish
Military Dress, Blandford Press,
Poole, 1987.

After leaving the army in 1879, James spent the following two years, until May 1881, employed as valet and piper for Duncan Davidson, Chief of Clan Davidson, Lord-Lieutenant of Ross, and laird of Tulloch Castle. James’s military service had obviously stood him in good stead for career advancement and he must have been highly skilled at playing the bagpipes.

When the census was taken on 3 April 1881, James was back with his parents, now living at Lower Bridgend, in Kilmorack, Inverness-shire but, just a few weeks later, in May 1881, he started working for Duncan Darroch, 5th of Gourock and of Torridon, the Chief of Clan Donald. However, this appointment was only to last a few short weeks, as James was then headhunted by none other than Queen Victoria!

According to the Royal website, Victoria ‘first heard bagpipe music in 1842, when she and Prince Albert visited the Highlands for the first time’ and was impressed by the Marquess of Breadalbane’s personal piper during her stay at Taymouth Castle. Victoria wrote to her mother: ‘We have heard nothing but bagpipes since we have been in the beautiful Highlands and I have become so fond of it that I mean to have a Piper, who can if you like it, pipe every night at Frogmore.’

Angus Mackay became the first personal Piper to the Sovereign in 1843 and he was followed by Pipe Major William Ross in 1854. The piper’s duties included playing under the Queen’s bedroom window for 15 minutes every morning, whether she is in residence at Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, the Palace of Holyroodhouse, Balmoral Castle or at Osbourne, on the Isle of Wight, and whenever else Her Majesty fancied a tune, as well as at a variety of State Occasions.

On 15 June 1881, James Campbell was appointed 2nd piper to Queen Victoria, at a salary of £55 p.a., he was allowed the same clothing as was granted to 1st piper Ross, and was granted £5 p.a. for 'Keeping his pipes, ribbons, etc in repair'. As well as playing the pipes, his duties also required him to take charge of the Gun Room at all the Queen's palaces and to keep the guns, fishing rods, etc., in good order. He took his orders from the now infamous Mr Brown (remember Billy Connolly’s portrayal of Mr Brown in the film Mrs Brown?).

'Queen Victoria [with John Brown] at Osborne House' by Edwin Henry Lanseer. Licensed under Public Domain by Wikimedia Commons: File:Queen_Victoria_at_Osborne_House.jpg

In 1883, when William Ross retired, James took over his duties as Gentleman Porter, his salary was raised to £80 p.a., and his rank in the Royal Household was equal to the Sergeant Footman. In 1891, when Ross died, James was officially appointed 1st Piper to the Queen, though he had already been carrying out those duties since 1883.

Some time in the 1920s, James was interviewed for the People's Journal. At that stage, he was enjoying his retirement ‘in a neat little bungalow in sylvan surroundings at pretty Fort Augustus’. These are some of the memories of his time as the sovereign’s piper that James shared with his interviewer:

Then he went to Mr Duncan Darroch of Torridon, in whose service he had been only a few weeks when he was invited to join the staff at Balmoral Castle in the role of Queen Victoria's piper. "Naturally I jumped at the chance," Mr Campbell told me, "but Mr Darroch was reluctant to part with me, and if I had been going to anyone but the Queen he would not have consented to my leaving him. 'A command from the Queen is a command which must be obeyed,' he said to me, 'but if I had known what I know now I would have made your engagement much firmer.'

“I parted good friends with Mr Darroch, and the next morning (16th June 1881), I played my pipes at Queen Victoria's breakfast table. Some time after the meal I was sought out by John Brown, the major-domo at Balmoral, who encouraged me by telling me 'The Queen likes your appearance, and I think you'll be all right.' So far, so good, I thought.    

James Campbell in 1886. Photographer: W Watson, Ballater.
Royal Collection Trust. © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. 

“In the Queen's time it was custom during the shooting season for a number of stags which had been shot to be laid out at the front door of the castle. A bonfire was lit, and at it the ghillies and the gamekeepers would light torches. The stags were then displayed by torchlight to the ladies and gentlemen of the Court, and afterwards the 'Reel o' Tulloch' was danced round the bonfire.    

“I, of course, played my pipes on those occasions, and the experience of receiving pieces of burning torches on my clothing taught me the wisdom of donning absolutely the worst tunic I had for such occasions. This practice was continued during King Edward's time. There were perhaps two such events in the autumn season and one in the springtime.    

“Pipe-Major William Ross, who had joined the Queen's service in 1854, was still at Balmoral when I was taken on the strength. Shortly after Ross's death I told the Queen that I required a new set of pipes. ‘Well, then,' she instructed, 'get a new set, and get them mounted with silver.'

"The pipes were ordered, and in due course arrived at Balmoral Castle. I played them next morning at the Queen's breakfast table. I mentioned to the Queen's page than I was playing the new pipes, and requested him to ask Her Majesty if she would like to inspect them. The Queen said she would like to look at the pipes and accordingly I had the honour of placing them in her hands. After she had expressed her approval of them, she handed them back to me, saying 'Campbell, these are your own pipes - from me.'    

"Such a present from Her Majesty was indeed a delightful surprise, and I expressed my sincere thanks to the best of my ability.   

"In addition to the post of piper, I held the position of jager or huntsman with Queen Victoria, and in that capacity had to look after the shooting and fishing equipment required for Her Majesty's guests.

"I recollect an incident, with the German Kaiser for its central figure, which occurred during one of Wilhelm's visits to Windsor. The first part of the day was spent at covert shooting, and after lunch the party enjoyed rabbit warren shooting. When crossing a rill the Kaiser trod on a piece of loose ground which gave way beneath him, and he was in the act of falling backwards, when, having jumped the rill, I caught hold of him by the seat of his breeches and the scruff of the neck, and prevented him from receiving a nasty fall.    

"It was not a very elegant way to seize hold of an Emperor, but it was fully justified in the circumstances. King Edward (then Prince of Wales), the Duke of Connaught, King George (then Duke of York), and Prince Christian were of the party, and they all laughed uproariously at the Kaiser's little adventure. "'Bravo, Campbell!' exclaimed the Kaiser, who was quite pleased that I had prevented him from falling in the rill, 'Where did you learn your German?' I had been conversing in that language with his own jagers. 'I don't know that I have learned it, your Majesty,' I replied, "I speak it indifferently.' 'Not at all,' declared the now exiled Emperor. 'You speak excellent Deutsch.'    

I should perhaps explain here how James came to speak such ‘excellent Deutsch’. In 1888, at St George Hanover Square in London, James Campbell married German-born Annie Marie Wilhelmina Muhs. Annie was born in Hamburg in 1863 and may have met James while working in the Royal Household. The couple had four daughters, all born in Windsor: Victoria Mary E. M. Campbell born in 1889, Louise Alice Una born in 1891, Isabel Anna H. Nora born in 1896, and Rachel Jennie Graina born in 1900.

The Campbell family in the 1891 census

The interview with James Campbell continued:

"The Queen of Spain was born at Balmoral Castle. The birth took place in the afternoon, and in the evening a bonfire was lit in celebration of the event. This was in the month of November, and I recollect it was a bitterly cold night when I played my pipes at the back of the castle by the light of the torches to light the bonfire and to drink to the health of the baby Princess.    

"The Duke of Edinburgh's children, including Prince Alfred, Princess Melita (who became the Grand Duchess of Hesse), and Princess Marie (now Queen-Mother of Roumania), were visitors to Osborne House when I was there. If the weather was good Queen Victoria sat in a tent in the grounds, and there the Princesses came to greet her. On one occasion I remember, Her Majesty said to the nurse in charge of them, 'If you will just look around there you will see someone you know!' The nurse took the Princesses round the tent, and when they saw me they recognised me at once, and greeted me prettily. I had, of course, met them previously at Malta. The Queen, I remember, used to address Princess Marie as 'Missie!'" 

Mr Campbell had the honour of playing his pipes at Queen Victoria's funeral, which was both a Highland and a military one. He was assisted by his nephew William Campbell, on that occasion. They played 'The Flowers o' the Forest' from Osborne House until they reached the gates that led to the public highway, when the music was taken up by the band of the Royal Marines, who played until the cortege reached Trinity Pier at East Cowes.    

Mr Campbell was also present at the state funeral from London to Windsor, and when the body was taken from St George's Chapel to Frogmore he and his nephew had the honour of supplying appropriate pipe music, of which Her Majesty had been so fond during her lifetime.    

On the night of the funeral Mr Campbell was commanded to appear before King Edward, who then and there, made him a member of the Victorian Order. "This," said His Majesty, as he handed the decoration to the Royal Piper, "is for long and faithful service to the Queen and for the beautiful music you played today at her funeral." The bereft sovereign then shook hands with Mr Campbell, who said, "May I offer your Majesty my humble but sincere sympathy in your Majesty's sad bereavement?" "Thank you, Campbell," said the King as he gave the Royal Piper another handshake.

Asked for his impressions of Queen Victoria, Mr Campbell said, "She was the most noble woman in the world. I have known none to whom I could compare her. Her character was truly noble and her heart was full of kindness, and her son, King Edward, whom I also served until his death, right worthily followed the example she had set. The joys and sorrows of the people who surrounded her were always shared by 'Victoria the Good'. A bereavement in any of the families within her ken touched her deeply, and she was always striving to help those who needed assistance."

Following Queen Victoria’s death in 1901 and Edward VII’s ascent to the throne, James Campbell continued as Piper to the Sovereign until his retirement in 1910. He was honoured for his service to Victoria with the MVO (Member of the Royal Victorian Order) and, though retired, held the honorary position at Court of Groom of the Great Chamber to His Majesty King George V until his death on 8 April 1930, in the Northern Infirmary in Inverness. After a long and very distinguished life, James was buried with his parents in the cemetery at Beauly Priory in Scotland.

Lost at Sea

In the course of researching family history you often uncover tragedy and sadness. This is one of those stories.

My second cousin three times removed, Martin Hodgetts Bust, was born on 9 August 1884 in England, in the small Lincolnshire village of Winterton. On his father’s side, Martin came from farming stock – in fact, the Bust family had been farming in various parts of Lincolnshire since the sixteenth century. Martin’s grandfather Henry was a farmer of 600-odd acres, a substantial holding in the mid 1800s, and his father Frederic was an agricultural engineer. Frederic and his brother Joseph were noted for inventing, manufacturing and selling agricultural machinery, and held several patents for chaff-cutting and ensilage-making machines.

A watercolour of Winterton by C. M. Gunnell, 1992.

Martin’s mother Sallie had been born in India, where her father was a tea planter, though Martin never knew grandfather Hodgetts – he had died in India in 1860, aged just 38. In fact, Martin never met any of his grandparents as all four had died before he was born.

Martin’s parents, Frederic Bust and Sallie Hodgetts were married in 1879 in Bridlington, Yorkshire, Sallie’s hometown, but made their home in Park Street, Winterton. Martin had two older siblings: his brother Frederic was born in 1881 and his sister Millicent was born in 1882, and the family’s domestic servant Betsy Barr also lived with them in their Winterton home.

Sadly, tragedy struck the Bust family soon after Martin was born. He never had the chance to get to know his father as Frederic Bust died in June 1885 when he was only 31 and Martin was not quite 10 months old. Without her husband’s income and with three children under five years old, it would have been difficult for Sally to cope, even though I’m sure she had help from both her husband’s and her own family.

Without his brother to assist with the agricultural business, Martin’s uncle Joseph found things tough going so put the agricultural business up for sale in 1887 and decided to make a life for himself in America. Sallie and her children would have gained some benefit from the sale of the business but that wouldn’t have kept the family in food and lodgings for long. It’s no surprise then to find that, at the time of the 1891 census, both Martin and his sister Millicent were boarding with sisters Frances and Florence Robinson in Sallie’s hometown of Bridlington, in Yorkshire. The Robinson women were teachers so I assume this was how the children received at least part of their education, though Martin also attended Grammar School in Driffield. 

HMS Conway. Image by Flapdragon. Licensed under public domain via Wikimedia Commons: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HMSConway1.jpg#/media/File:HMSConway1.jpg

In September 1898, shortly after celebrating his fourteenth birthday, Martin started a new life in Liverpool. He had been enrolled at HMS Conway, a naval training ship moored off Rock Ferry Pier on the river Mersey. Founded in 1859 by the Mercantile Marine Service Association as a means of training seaman for the Merchant Navy, HMS Conway, during Martin’s time at the school, was actually the former Rodney-class ship HMS Nile. She was a full-rigged wooden battleship, with a beam of 54ft 5in and 205ft 6in long at the gun deck, and was home to about 250 cadets at any one time.

National School Admission Registers & Log-books 1870-1914, School name: HMS Conway training ship,
Archive reference D/CON/13/12, Liverpool Maritime Museum

Though it would have been a very different life from farming, Martin seems to have excelled as a seaman cadet, receiving more comments of ‘very good’ than just ‘good’ in his training record book. The cadets would have been excited in July 1899 by the visit of the Duke of York, later King George V, who presented prizes to the top cadets and delivered a speech on the qualities essential to success in seamanship, ‘truthfulness, obedience and zeal’. Sadly for Martin, 1999 was also tainted with personal tragedy, as his mother Sallie died in March that year, in Winterton, aged just 48.

Martin graduated from HMS Conway in July 1900 and must immediately have gone to sea, as he was not in England when the 1901 census was taken on 31 March. I have only been able to find the name of one ship Martin served on, though I do know that by the end of 1903, he was qualified to serve as a Second Mate on a foreign-going ship, as witnessed by these two Certificates of Competency dated 29 December 1903 and 3 July 1907.

In May 1907 Martin is shown sailing, as a passenger rather than crew, on the Mary Isabel from Hokianga in New Zealand to Sydney, Australia. Perhaps he had been visiting members of his extended family, who were then living in Auckland, before beginning his next posting.

Soon after reaching Sydney, Martin joined the crew of the Hartfield. She was an iron-hulled British sailing ship, 261.7ft long and 39.3ft wide, with a gross tonnage of 1866.5 tons. Built in 1884 in Whitehaven, in the English county of Cumberland, the Hartfield had been thoroughly overhauled while in London during December 1906-January 1907 and was classed A1 by Lloyd’s. In January 1907 she left London bound for Sydney, carrying a general cargo, then loaded a cargo of coal and sailed for Valparaiso, in Chile, where she arrived about 21 August 1907 after a very stormy passage. The coal was discharged in Valparaiso and the Hartfield then took on 1030 tons of sand ballast in preparation for a voyage to Tacoma, Washington, where a cargo of wheat awaited her.

Hartfield. Image courtesy of San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library, www.sfpl.org/sfphotos

The Hartfield departed Valparaiso for Tacoma on 25 October 1907 with a crew of 22, including Second Mate Martin Bust, and was never seen again.

The only clues as to the fate of the ship came from the lighthouse keeper at St Estevan Point on Vancouver Island, off the west coast of Canada. In a letter to the Agent of the Marine and Fisheries Department he reported that  

when he was at Hesquiat on 22nd December, 1907, he began a search along the coast and continued it up to the 6th January, 1908. He had found two life belts, some hardwood cabin fittings, and a miniature life buoy, upon which latter appeared the words "Hartfield," Liverpool. Beyond this there is nothing to show what became of this vessel. At the time this man wrote it had been blowing a hurricane from the south and south-west, so whether she was blown on shore or whether the cargo shifted and she capsized there is no evidence.

The loss of the ship was widely reported in newspapers around the world in January 1908 and that may be how Martin’s family came to know of his death. He was just 23 years of age. 

I imagine it was his sister Millicent who was most saddened by his loss and it was probably she who arranged for the commemorative plaque that can still be found on the wall of the south aisle in All Saints' Church, in Martin’s home town of Winterton. It reads simply, ‘In memory of Martin Hodgetts Bust. Born August 9 1884. Lost at sea December 1907.’ 

Left: All Saints' Church, Winterton. Image by David Wright. Licensed under public domain via Wikimedia Commons: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:All_Saints_Church_Winterton.jpg. Right: Image from church website: lincoln.ourchurchweb.org.uk/winterton

Feeding my addiction

My name is Annie and I’m addicted to genealogy!

There’s no other way to describe it. Although I have tried to cure my addiction and I’ve been clean for as long as six months at a time, I just keep falling off the wagon. At times in the past, I have been a driven woman!

If someone sent me a new snippet of information, I had to follow up on it. If I learnt of a new website, I had to search it. If I came across a long lost relation, I had to contact them to find out everything they knew.

I’m sure this sounds like some kind of obsessive, compulsive behaviour and, no doubt, a shrink could attach a fancy label to it. But my addiction has produced many positive results. Spending all my spare time on genealogical research for two years, back in 2004 – 2005, resulted in two books, A Good Man with Dogs and A Good Scotch Shepherd, the second co-written with two cousins. I also now have a database containing over 12,000 names and more than 2gb of information, as well as 12 folders bulging with certificates, wills and other documents, and photos. I can state with almost absolute certainty that I am half English, 7/16ths Scottish and 1/16th Irish, and I can trace one branch of my father’s family back to great great great great great great great great great grandfather Thomas Bust who was farming in Lincolnshire, in England, at the turn of the 17th century.

For the last five years I’ve been too busy doing other things to spend much time on genealogy but, from time to time, I still need to feed my addiction. Like last weekend. When the distant cousin who bought my last copy of A Good Scotch Shepherd sent me some additional details about her branch of my maternal grandfather’s family, I had to update my database. In the process of doing that I noticed I didn’t have the death details for her grandparents, so then I had to check to see whether the town where they had lived had digitised its cemetery records. And then, when I located the cemetery database online, I had to check it for all my other relations who had lived in that town.

Two hours later, I had a sore back and scratchy eyes … ah, but I also had the delicious buzz of satisfaction that came from having added about 60 new pieces of information to my database. I almost … almost started searching for more cemetery databases, but I managed to stop myself … just. It was difficult but over the years I have managed to get some control over my addiction.

But, right now, I just have one small thing I absolutely must check …