spective officers commanded them to fire; but the orders
were given, says the tradition, "in the same language," and the
soldiers on both sides stood stock-still. Their inaction, however,
lasted but a moment, for emotion carried away all discipline, the
arms fell from their hands, and the descendants of the ancient Celts
renewed on the field of battle those ties of brotherhood which had
once united their fathers.

However unlikely this incident may seem, it appears to be confirmed by
tradition, if not by history. The air which the rival Celts sang is,
says Villemarque,[49] common to both Brittany and "the Highlands of
Scotland." With the music before me, it seems to bear a marked
resemblance to The _Garb of Old Gaul_, composed by General Reid
(1721-1807). Perhaps Reid, who was a Highlander, based his stirring
march on an older Celtic theme common to both lands.

_The Song of the Pilot_

One of the most famous of Breton nautical traditions tells of the
chivalry displayed by a Breton crew toward the men of a British
warship. During the American War of Independence much enthusiasm was
excited in France in connexion with the valiant struggle for liberty
in which the American colonies were engaged. A number of Breton ships
received letters of marque enabling them to fight on the American side
against Great Britain, and these attempted to blockade British
commerce. The _Surveillante_, a Breton vessel commanded by Couedic de
Kergoaler, encountered the British ship _Quebec_, commanded by Captain
Farmer. In the course of the action the _Surveillante_ was nearly sunk
by the British cannonade and the _Quebec_ went on fire. But Breton and
Briton, laying aside their swords, worked together with such goodwill
that most of the British crew were rescued and the _Surveillante_ was
saved, although the _Quebec_ was lost, and this notwithstanding that
nearly every man of both crews had been wounded in the fighting.

I have here attempted a very free translation of the stirring ballad
which relates this noteworthy incident, which cannot but be of
interest at such a time as the present.

THE SONG OF THE PILOT

Yo ho, ye men of Sulniac!
We ship to-day at Vannes,
We sail upon a glorious track
To seek an Englishman.
Our saucy sloop the _Surveillante_
Must keep the seaways clear
From Ushant in the north to Nantes:
Aboard her, timoneer!

See, yonder is the British craft
That seeks to break blockade;
St Geor