THE REDGAUNTLET FAMILY.
“REDGAUNTLET.”
It is supposed that the characters, if not the fortunes, of the Redgauntlet family, are founded upon those of the Griersons of Lagg. This celebrated, or rather notorious family, is of considerable antiquity in Galloway,[75]—a district abounding, to a greater degree than either Wales or the Highlands of Scotland, in families of remote origin and honourable descent. Grierson of Lagg was one of those border barons, whose fame and wealth the politic James V. endeavoured to impair, by lodging himself and his whole retinue upon them during a progress, to the irreparable ruin of their numerous flocks, and the alienation of their broad lands. The Grierson family never recovered the ground then lost; and has continued, down even to the present day, to struggle with many difficulties in supporting its dignity. Sir Robert Grierson, grandfather of the present Laird, made himself conspicuous in the reigns of the latter Stuarts, by the high hand which he carried in persecuting the recusant people of his own districts, and by the oppression which the spirit of those unhappy times empowered him to exercise upon his tenants and immediate dependants. He was but a youth when these unhappy transactions took place, and survived the Restoration nearly fifty years. His death, which took place in 1736, was in the remembrance of people lately alive. Many strange traditionary stories are told about him in Dumfriesshire, and, in particular, the groundwork of “Wandering Willie’s Tale” is quite well known and accredited among the common people thereabouts. The popular account of his last illness, death, and burial, are exceedingly absurd and amusing, and we willingly give them a place in our motley record.
Sir Robert Grierson died in the town of Dumfries. The house where this memorable incident took place is still pointed out. It is now occupied by a decent baker, and is a house of singular construction, having a spiral or turnpike stair, like the old houses of Edinburgh, on which account it is termed the Turnpike House. It is at a distance of about two hundred yards from the river Nith; and it is said that when Sir Robert’s feet were in their torment of heat, and caused the cold water in which they were placed to boil, relays of men were placed between the house and the river, to run with pails of water to supply his bath; and still, as one pail was handed in, the preceding one was at the height of boiling-heat, and quite intolerable to the old Laird’s unfortunate extremities. Sir Robert at length died, and was laid in a hearse to be taken to the churchyard, which was some miles off. But, oh the mysterious interferences of the evil one! though six stout horses essayed their utmost might, they could not draw the wicked persecutor’s body along; and there stood, fixed to the spot, as though they had been yoked to the stedfast Criffel instead of an old family hearse! In this emergency, when the funeral company were beginning to have their own thoughts, Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, an old friend of the Laird’s, happened to come up, with two beautiful Spanish horses, and, seeing the distress they were in, swore an oath, and declared that he would drive old Legg, though the devil were in him. So saying, he yoked his Spanish barbs to the hearse, mounted the box himself, and drove away at a gallop towards the place of interment. The horses ran with such swiftness that their master could not restrain them, and they stopped at the churchyard gate, not by any management or direction on his part, but by some miraculous and supernatural agency. The company came slowly up in the course of an hour thereafter, and Sir Robert Grierson was, after all, properly interred, though not without the loss of Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick’s beautiful horses, which died in consequence of their exertions.
The story of the Redgauntlet horse-shoe seems to have its foundation in the following:—
“Major Weir’s mother appears to have set the example of witchcraft to her children, as Jean Weir, while in prison, declared that ‘she was persuaded that her mother was a witch; for the secretest thing that either I myself, or any of the family, could do, when once a mark appeared upon her brow, she could tell it them, though done at a great distance.’ Being demanded what sort of a mark it was, she answered, ‘I have some such like mark myself, when I please, upon my forehead.’ Whereupon she offered to uncover her head, for visible satisfaction. The minister refusing to behold it, and forbidding any discovery, was earnestly requested by some spectators to allow the freedom. He yielded: she put back her head-dress, and, seeming to frown, there was an exact horse-shoe, shaped for nails, in her wrinkles, terrific enough, I assure you, to the stoutest beholder.”—Sinclair’s Satan’s Invisible World Discovered.
THE END.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] See introduction to “Peveril,” where the Scottish Novelist describes himself as wearing such old-fashioned habiliments.