Photo: J. Rutherford, Jardington, Dumfries.
DRUMLANRIG CASTLE (p. [320]).
It is hard to leave the Nith, so much is to be said on each of its tributaries. There is the Cairn, for instance, with its memories of the noble family of Glencairn. Also it flows by Maxwellton, still the seat of the Lauries, a fair scion of whose ancient house is celebrated in the pleasing old ditty known to everybody as “Annie Laurie,” though the song that rises in your mind when Glencairn is mentioned is Burns’s noble tribute to the memory of the fourteenth earl, ending—
“The mother may forget the babe
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee,
But I‘ll remember thee, Glencairn,
And a‘ that thou hast done for me!”
Even when we leave Dumfries and pass into Galloway (which consists of the stewartry of Kirkendbright and shire of Wigtown) we are not quite away from the Nith. On the right bank, nearly opposite Caerlaverock, the small stream of New Abbey Pow runs into the estuary. Follow this a little way up, and you come on the scanty but beautiful ruins of Sweetheart Abbey. The origin was as romantic as the name: it was founded in memory of her husband by the Devorgilla already mentioned. He died in 1269 at Barnard Castle, and was buried there, all save his heart, which his spouse had enclosed in a “coffyne of evorie,” and ever at mealtimes the “coffyne” was carried in and placed beside her, and she “dyd reverens” to it as if it had been her living lord. Thus she existed for twenty years, and then was splendidly interred before the high altar of Dulee Cor, or Sweetheart Abbey, so called because the heart of her dead spouse was laid on hers. Verily, love is stronger than death!
The DEE, chief river of Kirkcudbrightshire, rises in desolate Loch Dee, among heather-clad hills with impressive names—Lamachen, Cairngarnock, Craiglee, and so forth. How those Celtic words suggest of themselves a remote and desolate wilderness! Dee means “dark river,” and in the early part of its flow so sullen is its appearance that, with impressive tautology, it is called the “black water of Dee.” Some twenty miles from its source its colour is lightened by its confluence with the Water of Ken, and, like other Border streams, the scenery on its banks gradually becomes softer and richer. We have selected for illustration (p. [326]) a beautiful spot on the Dee at Douglas Tongueland, within two or three miles of the burgh of Kirkcudbright. Here the river still retains some of its early wildness, for it rushes foamin’ over masses of rock, but the scenery on its banks is sweetly rural rather than wild and mountainous.
The most famous place on the Dee is Threave Castle, standing on an islet formed by the river not far from Castle Douglas. It was built by Archibald, called the Grim, third Earl of Douglas, and was the scene of one of the terrible crimes which brought about the ruin of that proud house. William, the eighth earl, had imprisoned there Maclellan, tutor (or guardian) of Bombie, whose relative, Sir Patrick Grey, having procured an order for his release from James II., therewith repaired to the castle. Douglas, knowing very well what he came about, with pretended courtesy refused to receive any message till the guest had dined. Whilst Grey was eating with what appetite he might, the prisoner was led forth and beheaded in the courtyard. Dinner over, Grey produced the royal warrant, which Douglas read with mock respect and consternation. Taking his guest by the hand and leading him to the window overlooking the courtyard, he showed him the bleeding corpse. “There lies your sister’s son,” quoth he, “he lacks the head, but the body is at your service.” Grey dissembled his rage and grief till he was in the saddle, when, turning on the mocking earl, he solemnly vowed his heart’s blood should pay for that day’s work. “To horse! to horse!” cried the enraged tyrant. The pursuers followed Grey for many a long league, nor did they draw bridle till the Castle-Rock of Edinburgh loomed on the horizon. A few months after, the king stabbed Douglas at a conference at Stirling, and Grey avenged Maclellan by killing the wounded man with a pole-axe. In 1455 King James besieged Threave Castle, which held out under James, the brother of the murdered noble. It seemed impossible to batter down the stronghold till an ingenious blacksmith, M’Kim of Mollance, constructed the enormous gun which lies to-day on the Argyle battery at Edinburgh Castle, and is known far and wide as “Mons Meg”—the “Mons” being a corruption of Mollance, whilst Meg was M’Kim’s wife. He named the gun after her in ironical compliment, her voice being, he said, as the cannon’s, neither soft nor low. However, this piece was dragged with enormous labour to an eminence commanding Threave Castle. The charge, it is said, consisted of a peck of powder, and a granite ball the weight of a Carsphairn cow. The Countess of Douglas, the Fair Maid of Galloway, who had married in succession the two brothers, sat at table in the banqueting hall when the gun was shot off; the ball crashing into the room, carried away her right hand, wherewith she was in the act of raising a goblet of wine to her lips. The place at once surrendered. Roofless, but still grim and massive, the castle frowns amidst the peaceful surroundings of to-day. They “still show you the gallows knob,” “a large block of granite projecting from the front wall immediately over the main gateway; from here the meaner victims of the Earl’s vengeance were suspended.” Rarely did the knob want the ornament, of a “tassel,” as, with ghastly pleasantly, its human burden was termed—nay, it is said that the Douglas was so averse to see the “knob” out of use, and his power of life and death rusting unexercised, that, did the supply of malefactors run short, he would string up on any or no pretext some unoffending peasant—pour encourager les autres, no doubt!