I Must Not Get Distracted.ย  (A Brief Encounter with Lady John Scott)

Why This Matters

It’s important always to bear in mind the wide range of music that can be described as Scottish. It’s certainly not just folksy-sounding songs from farm workers of long ago! Styles have changed, and tastes varied over the centuries. And as I  demonstrate here, different types and classes of people made contributions of a more or less lasting kind.

One Single Song

It’s so easy to go chasing after red herrings! This time it was a single song, and I only looked it up because I didn’t recognise the title. I think I’ll stop with what I’ve found out – quite enough for my purposes.

Lady John Scott (1810โ€“1900)

Going through the Leng Gold Medal shortleets (Scots for ‘shortlists’) – I several times encountered a song that I hadn’t any recollection of seeing before: Lady John Scott’s ‘Durisdeer’. 

Lady John Scott – born Alicia Ann Spottiswoode – was born in Berwickshire, now referred to as the Scottish Borders. She was a composer and poet, and enthusiastic about Scottish heritage – indeed she was the first female Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland.

Ought I to have known more about her? Arguably not. She’s famous for one particular song, ‘Annie Laurie’, out of those that have actually been published. In fact, the Scottish Poetry Library website says that she ‘rewrote’ the words to ‘Annie Laurie’.

‘Durisdeer’

We’ll meet nae mair at sunset, when the weary day is done …

Opening lines of ‘Durisdeer’, by Lady John Scott

I was, in fact, wrong about not having encountered ‘Durisdeer’ before, though, because it’s in a couple of song-books in the Whittaker Library at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Since I indexed most of the Scottish song books in the library – an activity which certainly paid off, because it means that ‘my’ Scottish song index is constantly, and universally available – it follows that I have almost certainly indexed those two instances of ‘Durisdeer’. However, I would have had no reason at the time to have noticed this particular song, which appears to have been published once in London by Lonsdale, ca.1850 (the Whittaker Library hasn’t got that one), and then by Glasgow and London firm Paterson ca.1910 in Lady John Scott’s Thirty Songs, and again by Paterson in the New Scottish Orpheus Vol.3 in 1937.  The Thirty Songs must also have been reissued ca.1930-31, for I found a review of it in Music and Letters, April 1931. (More of that anon!)

Significantly, the person at the head of Paterson’s was John Michael Diack, who was a teacher at the Glasgow Athenaeum School of Music and later became Superintendent of Music for Glasgow, as well as being Paterson’s editor. (He gets several mentions in my Social History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity, now available in paperback). Diack’s inclusion of this song in two Scottish song compilations (the one by Lady John Scott herself, and the New Scottish Orpheus) would also have helped bring it both to music teachers’ and to singers’ attention. 

Kenneth McKellar popularised it in the late 1950s. Probably as a result of this, it began to appear in music festivals! I found it in the Leng Gold Medal shortleets from 1968 onwards – it could have been sung before that, but detailed records only survive from 1967 onwards. It was also sung in the nearby Arbroath Musical Festival in 1959, and in Perthshire festivals in the 1950-60s.ย  I’m sure it must have been sung in a number of music festivals, but I’ve done enough searching!

Kenneth McKellar sings ‘Durisdeer’

‘Durisdeer’ is a pretty piece. It’s named after the place by that name, has Scottish lyrics, and is by a Scottish woman composer, but it’s not what you’d call a ‘traditional’ folk song. Whilst it undeniably is Scottishit doesn’t sound very Scottish, apart from the use of Scottish dialect and a gapped melodic outline at the midway and final cadences of this two-verse song. 

Mind you, I have mused and written often enough about what actually counts as Scottish, concluding that a bit like beauty, Scottishness is in the eye (ear) of the beholder. 

Anyway, back (briefly) to the review of Lady John Scott’s Thirty Songs. This reassures me that, for all ‘Durisdeer’ is tuneful enough, I don’t need to feel too bad about not having known it:-

Lady John Scott: Songs (including Annie Laurie). She wrote the tune and fabricated the words of one immortal thing. This volume shows that as long as she stuck to Scots sentiments things went well. There is nothing here to equal ‘Annie Laurie,’ but still some
pleasant things remain. [Paterson.]

Music and Letters, Vol. 12, No. 2 (Apr., 1931), p.214, Review by ‘Sc.G.’

‘Sc.G.’ was Scott Goddard (1895-1965), a music critic and Walford Davies’ assistant at Temple Church. He had studied at the Royal College of Music.  I don’t know about the other 28 songs in the book. If, like ‘Durisdeer’, they’re ‘pleasant things’ rather than an ‘immortal thing’, then at least Goddard and I agree!


(The Scottish Orpheus Vol.3 is still available, now distributed by Novello.)


My Leng Medal Memories research is funded by an Athenaeum Award from the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland.

‘”Heart-Moving Stories” Illustrated by Magic Lantern’: freshly published article

This morning saw the arrival of the latest issue  of The Magic Lantern (no.45, December 2025) containing my article, ‘”Heart-Moving Stories” Illustrated by Magic Lantern’.  I’m grateful to have had this opportunity to share a favourite bit of research, to which I alluded briefly in my recent monograph.

‘”Heart-Moving Stories” Illustrated by Magic Lantern’, The Magic Lantern no.45 (Dec 2025), pp. 11-12.

Contents of issue 45, The Magic Lantern

Service of Song? (If you Know, you Know!)

If you’ve glanced at my book, you may have encountered the part where I explainย  about Bayley and Ferguson and the services of song. Services of song are a virtually forgotten genre nowadays, but be assured that they were once a very common form of entertainment/instruction.

Biddy: opening piece

It’s not an abstract concept – these were a genre of magic lantern show, aimed at adult and/or juvenile audiences.  To put on a magic lantern show, you needed a few key ingredients:-

  • A venue
  • A magic lantern
  • Something to project onto
  • Set of slides
  • Something containing a narrative (for the narrator), and plenty of songs for the audience.  The music could be in Tonic Sol-Fa or staff notation (notes on lines and spaces).
‘Get a thoroughly good Reader’

The narrative could be a biblical story or an adaptation from a moralistic story.  Or perhaps something about a poet or a place.

‘Biddy worked hard …’

Whatever, the narrative and the songs were in a wee booklet, and that was your Service of Song.  You bought multiple copies  – they were cheap!  The event itself was advertised as a service of song.

So, as you can see, a Service of Song was an early slideshow providing a variable mix of education, entertainment and religion. They were popular with Sunday Schools as a special treat, and they were often used by the temperance movement. Bayley and Ferguson published loads of them. (Organisers would have to buy or hire the slides – possibly from somewhere else.)

If you would like to know more … read the book!

Karen E McAulay,

A Social History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity: Scotland’s Printed Music 1880-1951 ๐ŸŽถ

Routledge, 2025.

Robert Wilson, Scottish Singer and Entrepreneur

I wrote this post last year, but for some reason never actually posted. Not to worry – now is the time to share it!

You could say Robert Wilson had Scottish music publishing just about tied up in Glasgow.ย  As his singing career began to wane, he bought up James S. Kerr’s and Frank Simpson’s, also co-founding Thistle Records from his premises in Berkeley Street. Not bad going, eh? Oh, and he also owned a travel company, which is less surprising considering his own worldwide travelling as a singer – he must have gained quite a bit of insight into the travel business. An informed, on-the-ground (or water, or airborne) interest, you could say.

After his death, the remaining shareholders of Kerr’s Corporation later acquired Mozart Allan’s AND Bayley & Ferguson’s backlists, too.

Wilson began a career as an apprentice draftsman, but after redundancy, started out as a singer. He sang with the Rothesay Entertainers, joined the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company Chorus between 1931-7 and then embarked upon his solo career, specialising in middle of the road Scottish song, but not limiting himself exclusively to this repertoire. Here he is, recorded by Pathe Films at the start of his solo career.

Annie Laurie (Maxwellton Braes are Bonnie)

If you’ve got a bit more time, here’s a ‘Voice of Scotland Short’ – a biopic lasting nearly an hour,with musical performances:-

Robert Wilson – Voice of Scotland Short

‘A Tribute to Robert Wilson’, with:-

  • Kenneth McKellar
  • Eliot Dobie
  • Jimmy Shand
  • Andy Stewart
  • Will Starr and Accordion
  • Cliff Hanley
  • Harry Carmichael
  • Sydney McEwan
  • Additional material by Bob Wright of Girvan

Header Image of ‘The Road Bridge to Bonnie Dundee’ from EBay

I have a forthcoming magazine article with more about Robert Wilson, of which I will give full details when it’s published in the near future.

You can read more about Scottish music in bygone days in my recent book:-

A History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity: Scotland’s Printed Music 1880-1951

A Gift Idea? A Social History of Amateur Music-Making

Stumped for a present for your Scottish music enthusiast? My new book is affordable as an e-book! (Just sayin’ …)

A Social History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity: Scotland’s Printed Music 1880-1951

Why did Scottish music publishers produce so many songbooks and dance tunes? Who took Scottish music overseas to the diaspora? How did classical composers interact with local publishers?

I’ve discussed all this and more. Full details on the publisher’s page, link above.

The Mervyn Heard Award

I’m honoured to have been awarded the Mervyn Heard Award by the Magic Lantern Society (UK) in recognition of my research into Scottish publishers Bayley and Ferguson’s Services of Song for magic lantern shows in the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. Their booklet, Wee Davie, containing a script for a reader, and suitably religious songs, was possibly the first thing they published – or certainly one of the first.

The Mervyn Heard Award is awarded for any written work, archival research or smaller-scale digitisation project.

I’ve talked about these service books in research lectures as honorary Ketelbey Research Fellow at the University of St Andrews in 2023, and at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland’s Exchange Talks series. The discovery of these wee books certainly inspired me to delve deeper into the social history around amateur music-making, other entertainments and educational or religious events, so I owe a debt to the original author Revd. Norman Macleod and his moralistic story, Wee Davie, for starting me off on this particular research strand.

In due course, I’ll be writing more about this topic, most particularly for the Magic Lantern Society itself.

The Organist Celebrates

As I planned what to play for tomorrow’s organ voluntaries, my eye fell on an old book of pieces by Cesar Franck. It had been my father’s book, and I remember my nine-year old self playing one of the melodies on the oboe, as he played the rest of the lines. He loved France, French, and French organ music. Today, I realised that this particular volume was published by none other than one of ‘my’ Scottish music publishers – Bayley and Ferguson. What could be more appropriate to celebrate my new book, than to play our ‘duet’ from that particular anthology?ย  (I had, moreover, already encountered the editor, Henderson, in my research. He’s mentioned in passing in Chapter 3.)

I don’t know when Dad got that book. It was published in 1953, and it has an oldish look to the cover design, so I imagine he got it not long after it was published.Wherever he was at the time, it has since spent decades in Norwich before eventually coming up to Glasgow, Bayley & Ferguson’s original home.

I must admit that the focus of my book means I didn’t make much mention of organ music, and definitely no mention of Cesar Franck!  Looking at it, the Cesar Franck cover design is staid beyond its years.  You wouldn’t think the sixties were just around the corner.   Still, it’s the music that matters.  I’ll enjoy playing it tomorrow, thinking of Dad as I do so.  He would have been so pleased to see my published work – I can only hope he’s smiling from his fleecy cloud now!

An Open Door in Berkeley Street (or, Latte after the Library)

I went back to the Mitchell Library in my continuing search for old (historically old) lady music publishers. Floor 5 was temporarily operating from Floor 3, but the books I needed could thankfully still be got out for me.

The Mitchell’s epic carpets. Glasgow logo.

The ladies were nowhere to be seen in the book documenting the Glasgow Society of Musicians. Nor was there any hint of them in another book about live music for Victorian Glaswegians.  (Although I did, whilst I was still in the library, get an Ancestry message from one of the ladies’ descendants!)

Floor 4 for the Music ๐ŸŽถ Catalogue

Undeterred, I headed for Floor 4, to have another look in the old card music catalogue  – a really useful resource.  Again, I only found two of one composer’s pieces.  I  already own one of them,  but that still means one find. And I also spotted a couple of issues of a journal that interested me.  A quick flick through, allowed me to note potentially interesting pages, even if they don’t relate to the present theme. I was in my element.

Closing my laptop, I decided to round off the morning with a coffee downstairs …

Then the fire alarm went off.  Everyone filed out, and I looked down the street. Would I find a cafรฉ?

Turkish coffee pots
The erstwhile Thistle Records in Sovereign House. Name plaque still there.

Believe it or not, the Turkish cafe in between what had been Thistle Records, and Kerr’s Music Corporation (Glasgow Music Centre), was in another building with a historical past: no less than the Glasgow Society of Musicians, about which I had just been reading. I got my latte, also snapping a picture of the interior – clearly once the Musicians’ Concert Room – and the art-nouveau front door.

Where once they heard piano trios …
You can just see the arched ceiling …
Mission accomplished!

Another time, I’ll make sure I have a coffee ‘to sit in’ rather than takeaway!  Glasgow’s most eminent musicians would have enjoyed performances there … whether or not the ladies ever got a look-in!

The Glasgow Ladies Publishing Sheet Music

Yesterday, I set out to track down some music.  It’s light music, not great music  – almost ephemeral, you could say – but together,  it tells a story.

I also wanted to find out more about the life of one of these fin-de-siecle Glasgow woman music publishers.

It’s not that easy. The music is scattered round our legal deposit libraries; the cataloguing isn’t completely consistent; and fin-de-siecle ladies, whether single,  married, childless or proud mothers, didn’t  leave much record of their daily lives.  They’re hidden in the shadows of family members, and, whilst I imagine they knew one another, let me stress that this is NOT a tale of a female publishing cooperative!

I had a nice chat with a local history librarian, making an acquaintance who is now equally keen to find out more; then I headed home – as yet, none the wiser – to devise a complex spreadsheet of music titles.ย  I’m visualising a pinboard with strings criss-crossing between ladies, libraries andย  work-lists.

So complex, indeed, that I still haven’t planned how best to get to SEE the music.

A weekend task?

Sadly, a Pixabay find, not one of ‘my’ ladies!