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Dunrossil’s Diary

It’s been a while since I penned one of these – or at least tapped it into the keyboard. So forgive me if this is a bit longer than usual. Lots has been happening the last few months.

In June we took off for Edinburgh on what was essentially a business trip. One person I wanted to see was the cabinet secretary, Angus Robertson MSP, the man in the Scottish Government responsible for such things as culture, the constitution, Europe and the Diaspora. Busy man.

In this last role he set up the Scottish Connections Framework, which sets out the ways Scotland wants to connect with Scots overseas. For too long there was a perception among overseas Scots that Scotland itself didn’t really care about them. This initiative is designed to correct that. They’d love to hear about you and send you information. So, if you’re a clan society, a St Andrew’s Society or you just host a Burns supper where you live, go to the Scotland.org website and register.

Last year, Angus set up (and chairs) a Scottish Connections Advisory Panel, consisting mostly of luminaries in Scotland itself, including the heads of such groups as the Scotch Whisky Association, the Edinburgh Festival and the Tattoo. The panel has three members outside Scotland, including myself. I was invited in my capacity as Vice Convenor of the Standing Council of Scottish Chiefs in recognition of the fact that many overseas Scots tend to identify with the motherland through the medium of their surname group, their clan or family.

The panel does not directly oversee the Scottish Connections Fund (so please don’t send me your applications or complaints!) but does encourage groups to apply for funding. The window this year closes on September 9, but you might want to go on the gov.scot website to see what they’re looking for and think about applying next year.

I mentioned that Angus is also responsible for culture and one of the groups that reports to him is Historic Environment Scotland, which looks after such national treasures as Edinburgh Castle and Stirling Castle. I had not brunch but what you might call “lea” (tea at lunchtime) in the castle tearoom with some HES folk, who are interested in building relationships outside Scotland too. Dorothy Hoskins is their director of Development and would love to hear from Scots overseas.

While in Edinburgh I enjoyed dining with some old friends, Bruce Durie, the genealogist and heraldic expert, and Andrew and Mariot Leslie. Andrew was my old college roommate at Oxford while Mariot (or Dame Mariot as we should call her) was a senior British diplomat, UK Ambassador to NATO. But the real reason for the trip was to attend the annual meeting of the Standing Council at the Royal Scots Club.

The main topic discussed at the AGM was the planned use of the council’s three feathers logo to indicate recognition of a group or product as being authentic in the eyes of the chiefs. We feel this will help the general public identify elements in the heritage marketplace which exhibit the historical authenticity most people expect and desire.

We also had a presentation by the Rev. Dr. Joe Morrow, Lord Lyon King of Arms, who joined us for lunch before rushing off to attend another commitment. “Who could be more important in Scotland than the chiefs,” I asked. “The King,” replied Joe simply. OK, fair enough.

One of the sometimes overlooked aspects of the position of Lyon is that they are seanachies to the Monarch, responsible for all aspects of Royal ceremonial in Scotland.

At the end of the meeting, we announced that Sir Malcolm MacGregor would be stepping down as Convenor and that Charles, Lord Bruce would be succeeding him in the role. Charles’s father and grandfather had served as convenors before him. Malcolm had been convenor before handing over to Donald Maclaren and had generously agreed to step back into the role on Donald’s untimely death. The nature and scope of the Council, and therefore of the convenor’s role, have grown considerably during this period and, though he may not have quite realized what he was signing up for the second time, he rose to the challenge magnificently.

There was barely time to unpack after my trip to Scotland before packing again and heading out to North Carolina for the annual Grandfather Mountain Highland Games. Chieftain of the Games was Florian MacLaren, son of our old friend Donald, and we also had Bill MacAlester of Loup and Kennox, chief of the McAlisters, there.

The Scottish Heritage USA board met on the Thursday before for a strategic planning retreat, the fruits of which I will leave for the president to convey. One of our busiest board members at the Games is Steve Quillin, since he runs the Games themselves. This year he was also due to receive the National Tartan Day Award for 2025 from the Scottish Coalition. The thought was that, instead of making the presentation in DC on Tartan Day itself, we should honor him in front of the thousands out there on the mountain who truly appreciate what he has done to merit the award. As last year’s recipient I was thinking about placing a Green (kilt) Jacket over his shoulders, as they do at the Masters. In the end the ceremony coincided with an absolutely torrential downpour and nobody could hear a thing. Pure comedy. Fortunately, Steve had arranged a private whisky tasting and so we slithered off in the rain to celebrate or to drown our sorrows. I forget…

This may not come as a shock to some of you, but it does get rather uncomfortably warm in south Texas during August. The thought of walking around in full Highland dress all day in those conditions is not especially appealing – unless the Games is in the mountains or the far north. Doesn’t get much more north than Canada. So I accepted an invitation to the 80th Annual Scottish festival in Fergus, Ontario, thinking to escape the heat. Instead I seemed to have taken it with me.

We had a great turnout for the event. They estimated about 20,000 on the Saturday alone. Joe Morrow, Lord Lyon King of Arms, was there as Chieftain of the Games, bravely wearing his full uniform of red tailcoat and heavy gold brocade. Sir Malcolm, in his final act as convenor, was there too and moderated a panel discussion. Lyon, Malcolm and I had been on a panel together before, at Loch Norman in 2016, and this time we were joined by Bill Petrie, of Scots of Canada, and Xander Fraser, the Master of Saltoun. Xander’s proud mother, Kate, Lady Saltoun, chief of the Frasers, was in the audience, along with Lady MacGregor, Sir Alexander Matheson, Bob and Suzanne Currie, Michael McAlpin, Richard Baird and many more.

On the Thursday most of us had clambered onto or into an ancient carriage drawn by four giant Clydesdales for the parade. My luggage had failed to make my connecting flight, and I was forced to borrow a kilt. My fellow Scots nobly and generously rose to the occasion and offered me theirs. Faced with the choice of pretending to be a MacGregor or a Baird for the occasion, I diplomatically chose the former, at Chief Malcolm’s urging, and accepted Lyon Joe’s offer to wear his (he was in his full red regalia). Lyon and I are not quite the same size but any hopes I may have had of hiding in the background were undone when I was asked to sit up front on the carriage as brakeman, thereby showing off a pair of ghostly (even ghastly) white knees to the crowds.

No Games for me in September, when it’s still blazingly hot in Texas. I am doing a whisky tasting for the World Affairs Council here in San Antonio, but at least it’s indoors, in the evening.

Next Games for me will be Stone Mountain in October, when the weather is usually beautiful, except for the year when our friend Hugh, the Earl of Eglinton, chose to raise his standard as chief of the Montgomeries. As Hugh put it, standing out in the monsoon: in Scotland we have a saying, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just inadequate clothing.” But then they hadn’t factored in August in Texas.

I gave a talk at the Stone Mountain Highland Games hotel on the Friday (October 17) about chiefs, clans and coats of arms. Who decides what’s a clan and who’s a chief, and other weighty questions, which have flummoxed sages over the centuries. I’ve also written a short book on the subject, which the publishers are promising to have ready for Tartan Day next year. We’ll see. If you must check it out for timing, details will be on my website, the imaginatively named www.dunrossil.com.