All clans in Scotland have a clan motto and crest. The Hendersons were thought to originate in Caithness, Glencoe, the Shetlands, Liddlessdale and Fordell. They were generally known as ferocious fighters, were bodygaurds of the chief of the Macdonalds and were well known for their piping prowess. So you have definitley come to right place to find your wedding piper. The clan motto: Sola Virtus Nobilitat (Virtue Alone Enobles)

Haggis Address / Burn’s Night /Scottish Nights

Robert Burn’s enjoyed Haggis so much that he decided to write a poem about this gorgeous delicacy! As a result, Haggis became Scotland’s national dish and on Burn’s night (Rabbies Birthday, on or around  the 25 th of January) every year the recital of his poem, ‘Address tae a Haggis’ is key to the Burn’s Supper celebration. This is not exclusive to Burns night however and recitals can be arranged to accompany, Scottish nights, Weddings, Special events, Corporate occasions and Media events. Colin will confidently Pipe the haggis in to your event and then recite the famous poem in a unique and authentic manner as demonstrated in the video. If you like the video I would appreciate it if you gave it a thumbs up.

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Back to top Robert Burns was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. He was born: January 25, 1759, Alloway and Died: July 21, 1796, Dumfries. Poems include : Address tae the haggis, To a Mouse, A Red, Red Rose, Tam o' Shanter. His children: Elizabeth Riddell Burns, Elizabeth Burns and Jean Burns.

Robert Burn’s ‘Address tae a Haggis’ (1787)

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye worthy o' a grace
As lang's my arm.


The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.


His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!


Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit' hums.




Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?


Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!


But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.


Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!


Rab Burns, 1787

Haggis is a savoury pudding containing sheep's Heart, Liver and Lungs; minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, traditionally encased in the sheep's stomach though now often in an artificial casing instead.