The thistle is the national flower of Scotland, much like the rose is the national flower of England and the United States. Today we’re going to look at two interesting things about this flower, the tale as to why it became the national flower and also the unofficial national anthem it inspired.

There are several different legends that tell how the thistle became Scotland’s symbol, but most date from the reign of Alexander III and in particular the events surrounding the Battle of Largs in 1263.

It is often forgotten, that for hundreds of years much of Scotland was part of the Kingdom of Norway. By 1263 however, Norway seems to have had little interest in their former territory.  That was until King Alexander III proposed to buy back the Western Isles and Kintyre from the Norse King Haakon IV. The thought of relieving King Alexander of some of his riches and territories appears to have re-kindled Norse interest in Scotland.

Late in the summer of 1263 King Haakon of Norway, now intent on conquering the Scots, set off with a sizeable fleet of longships for the Scottish coast. Gales and fierce storms forced some of the ships onto the beach at Largs in Ayrshire, and a Norwegian force was landed.

Legend has it that at some point during the invasion the Norsemen tried to surprise the sleeping Scottish Clansmen. In order to move more stealthily under the cover of darkness the Norsemen removed their footwear. But as they crept barefoot they came across an area of ground covered in thistles and one of Haakon’s men unfortunately stood on one and shrieked out in pain, thus alerting the Clansmen to the advancing Norsemen.

His shout warned the Scots who defeated the Norsemen at the Battle of Largs, thus saving Scotland from invasion. The important role that the thistle had played was recognised and so was chosen as Scotland’s national emblem.

‘Flower of Scotland’ is considered the unofficial national anthem of Scotland.

There are several other songs that have been considered to be the unofficial national anthem of Scotland including; Scots Wha Hae, Scotland the Brave and the more recent Highland Cathedral. Although in July 2006, the Royal Scottish National Orchestra conducted an online poll in which voters could choose a national anthem from one of five candidates.10,000 people took part in the poll in which Flower of Scotland came out the winner.

The lyrics were written by Roy Williamson (1936-90) and the song was performed initially by The Corries, a Scottish folk band, and refers to the victory of the Scots, led by Robert the Bruce, over England’s Edward II at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. The music is actually somewhat older, and was composed by Peter Dodds McCormick (c1834-1916) who emigrated to Australia as a young man, and also composed the National Anthem of Australia, “Advance Australia Fair”.

The song is also known as Flùr Na H-Alba” in Scottish Gaelic, and “Flouer O Scotland” in Scots.

The title has also been used for a history book: The Flower Of Scotland: A History Of Scottish Monarchy by James J. Sharp, and for the biography of Roy Williamson, which was published by his daughter Karen in 1993.

There also exists a Flower of Scotland tartan which was created in the early 90′s to honour the late Roy Williamson. The design is based on the setting and thread count of the Gunn tartan, as worn by Roy Williamson, using the traditional 18th-century colours of Lichen Green and Lochan Blue although it has no Clan or family affiliation and therefore is available for all to wear.

Thistle Products from ScotClans…

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The view from my window in Aberdeen

It could be any other lazy, late summer afternoon today in Aberdeen. Sunlight is attempting to squeeze its way through the clouds, seagulls are circling in droves, and ship horns are belching at the city’s bulging harbour. Right on cue, the haar has begun to roll in off the North Sea, making the crowd of the oil industry’s supply ships anchored off the coast look spectacularly ghostly.

But there’s something peculiar in the air today. The view from my window looks out on to one of Aberdeen’s relics from the not-so-distant past – a magnificent 1950s council tower block, that’s today dotted with saltires and simple one-worded banners. I kid you not, I can also hear the sound of someone playing Flower of Scotland on the bagpipes somewhere down the street. Today the atmosphere in Aberdeen, and indeed all over Scotland, is a mash of anxious-electric-hope as we all sit on the very edge of history.

I’m roughly 17,800 kilometers from my hometown of Rotorua, New Zealand. Sitting here today in the North East of Scotland, I somehow have landed myself right at the crossroads of what is one of the most important moments in this country’s already exceptional history. And thanks to my London-born father I’m one of those lucky buggers with dual-citizenship, which alongside my Scottish address gives me the right to vote in Thursday’s Independence Referendum.

New Zealand’s path to independence from the UK is, I’m rather embarrassed to admit, one of national confusion. We don’t even have an Independence Day, because no one can agree on when it actually happened. However we’re still part of the Commonwealth – which to me means that a well-to-do woman from London graces us with her presence on our coins and banknotes.

The Signing of the Treaty of Waitangi by Marcus King

Our independence came about after well over 150 years worth of baby steps, beginning with the signing of the ‘Treaty of Waitangi’ in 1840. The Treaty is a hotly contested topic at home to this day, and depending on who you speak to, it’s either the official date that we became a Crown Colony of Britain, or, when Maori chiefs gained sovereignty over the Crown. See why we’re so confused?

Over the next century, following our own war, then two world wars, our relationship with Old Blighty eroded as we slowly found our own feet in the world. We established and gained more and more degrees of self-rule, until finally, one day in 1986 the last remaining shreds of apron strings that stretched to the other side of the globe were cut. We developed our own constitution, removing the residual power of the UK to legislate.

A few weeks before I moved to Scotland almost two years ago, I watched from the other corner of the globe as Mr Cameron and Mr Salmond signed the Edinburgh Agreement. I remember thinking that Cameron seemed a little too calm in his post-signatory interview, and wondered why the prospect of the break-up of perhaps the mightiest Union in history didn’t seem to bother him. I thought perhaps the campaign for independence was too small and wasn’t perceived as a serious matter by Downing Street.

It’s now two years later, and let me tell you that this matter is so very far from small. Never mind what the people in suits have said – whichever side of the campaign ordinary folk are on, the sheer engagement and engrossment by every man, woman and child in the future of this land has been unprecedented. It’s been a truly electrifying and galvanising experience that I will cherish with all my heart for the rest of my days.

And so here I sit in my adopted home, right in the thick of it, poised and ready with poll card in hand.

I look around me at the gigantic gap between the rich and the poor in this city and wonder how the outcome on Thursday will affect the people who are visibly struggling to make ends meet. I look at the single mother and her daughter who walk past my door on the way to school each morning and wonder if my vote will affect that girl’s education prospects. And the wee old man who gives me a wave from his window every afternoon on my way home from work, how will this affect his pension scraps?

On Thursday morning I will place a tick beside the box marked Yes. Because I believe that there is a real genuine hunger in this country for something better. And I believe that the alternative is something that we will all be better off without. How incredibly fortunate we all are, that we have the right to choose.

As we say in my home – Kia kaha, Scotland. It means stay strong. If little old New Zealand can do it, then you sure as hell can too. Grab your independence by the baws and aim for the stars.

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After the ubiquitous ‘Happy Birthday’, the great New Year anthem Auld Lang Syne is the next most sung song on earth; bellowed out from graduations in Thailand to weddings across the globe. The funny thing is that many of the jovial partakers have no idea about the lyrics themselves.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

and Auld Lang Syne.

So, what on earth is an ‘auld lang syne’ anyway? Well, in the old Scots vernacular it simply means ‘long since hence’; and in the spirit of the song, essentially the days of long ago. This pithy three word phrase encapsulates beautifully the sense of remembering the great days of the past, and allows us a chance to wistfully reminisce with rose-tinted spectacles the fun days of our youth. It is about friendship, old friendships that as the years pass drift, perhaps even sour; but now in the twilight we can look back and never forget those long summer days long ago. This is what Burns was driving at, and we as we shed the old year for the new should think on this and remember the good stuff and the importance of love and friendship.

The song was first published by Burns in 1788, and became hugely popular in Scotland. As Scots emigrated around the world they took it with them to create a global phenomenon. However, Burns was not the first to use the phrase ‘auld lang syne’ in a song, both Ayton and Ramsay had earlier, and the bard himself admitted that he had simply ‘re-written’ an old folk song. The tune wasn’t his either, nor the one he planned to use, but was added later. Whatever the origins, I’m sure that master playboy Burns would appreciate the gusto with which his lyrics are still appreciated by millions across the world.

Not all of Scotland’s songs are quite so cheery; over half of the ones I can think of tend to be about battles and cruel fate, usually at the hands of the English. Perhaps it is because Scotland was dealt the wildest of cards, and mixed with our natural Celtic melancholy we have so many lilting laments and heartfelt songs. Top of that list, must surely be the ‘Flowers of the Forest’.

I’ve heard the lilting, at the yowe-milking

Lassies a-lilting before the dawn of day

But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning

“the flowers of the forest are all wede away”

Written by Jean Elliot and again based on an earlier folk song, this mournful, yet intoxicating ballad expresses the anguish and sheer loss felt by those left at home when men go to war and don’t come back. It was written in the aftermath of Scotland’s darkest day on the bloody Field of Flodden: a scene of utter carnage and the loss of a national soul still yet to be recovered fully.

In early 1513 King Henry VIII of England invaded France as part of the Catholic League, and using Calais as his base he won a string of spectacular victories. As part of a more protracted conflict the Pope had become concerned at the growing power of Louis XII of France, and constructed an alliance including England to combat this threat. Scotland was allied to the French and the king, James VI, was the embodiment of the Renaissance and chivalrous to his core. He decided the only honourable course was to aid his ally and invade England in order to distract Henry and buy a little breathing space for Louis. He assembled an army of over 30,000 – the largest ever commanded by a Scottish king, and crossed the border at the end of August 1513.

King James IV

Henry had left the defence of England in the hands of his wife, Catherine of Aragon and the Earl of Norfolk. They dispatched a much smaller army north to meet the Scottish invasion. After a short stand-off the two armies clashed on the 9^th of September at Flodden, and while the Scots held the advantage the geography conspired against them and they were annihilated. The king was killed and hacked to pieces, and along with him Scotland would lose, 12 Earls, 13 Barons, the Archbishop of St Andrews and nearly 10,000 men. It was said not one noble family was spared, and every village in Scotland mourned a loss. The youth of the nation was torn apart, its nobility wrecked: these were the flowers of the forest, and now they were all wede (gone) away, leaving behind only empty fields, moaning and pain.

Today, the lament is usually heard played as a pipe tune at funerals or memorial services; sung only at the most heartfelt of times: but, played globally. It has an incredible weightiness about it; one that draws you back to that time and every war since, and the senseless misery of it all.

But, for every Flodden there is a Bannockburn – where the gods of fortune smile down on Scotland for once and deliver victory; oh, and how we celebrate. The Scots are a funny people, a concoction of doom and gloom and a rich, vibrant joie de vivre, and our music mirrors this. Flodden was a hammer blow to the Scottish psyche, and from then on we’ve had this inferiority complex, a chip on our shoulder often aimed south of the border. It’s hard to shake, but as a people our contribution to the world has been immense, and the Scots have much to crow about. Perhaps we are at last climbing out of the pit of self-indulgent grief. We do live in a Scotland transformed in the last 50 years, and although it looks back 700 years to Bruce and Wallace the song most played as a ‘National Anthem’ for Scotland reflects the re-birth in our own national identity.

Oh, flower of Scotland,

when will we see your likes again?

That fought and died for

Your wee bit hill and glen.

Drawing from the emotions of the lost flowers, Roy Williamson’s song, written in 1965, plays upon the fall then rise of a country. It implores us to look back to our ancestors and feel their sense of national pride and deliver forth a new vibrant and healthy Scotland. Flower of Scotland is a simple tune, with an even simpler message – rise up and be a nation again, the perfect ingredient for a national anthem: one that lauds the country, asks more from her people and can be sung by 60,000 on the slopes of Hampden Park. I don’t think you need to be a Scottish Nationalist or a believer in independence to feel national empowerment with this song.

Scottish Pride at Hampden Park

Each of these songs has it’s time and place; each reflects part of the emotional journey it means to be Scottish. Robert Louis Stevenson once said that the Scots carry the past around with them in a way that few others could understand; and perhaps, like the Welsh and the Irish, with our Celtic fire burning brightly that emotion is best expressed in song and music.

This article was written by David McNicoll, who runs Vacation Scotland – a travel company specialising in tours and vacation packages to Scotland. For more info – www.vacationscotland.biz

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