History of Scotland-Border Reivers-The Haunting of Spedlins Tower

Spedlins Tower stands on the south-west bank of the river Annan in Dumfriesshire, south-west Scotland. It was built in the fifteenth century in the time of the Border Reivers, a time when cattle and sheep thieving, extortion, blackmail, arson and murder were the bread of every day life in the English Scottish Border country; a time when Scotland and England were still at war.

Spedlins Tower

It was the home of the Jardine family for centuries during those troubled and violent times. They did not relinquish the safety of its immense and powerful walls until the eighteenth century when, more peaceful times then reigning, they abandoned it for a new, more sophisticated and decorous mansion built on the opposite bank of the river Annan.

Reivers Return
(Courtesy of Bill Ewart of Langholm, Dumfriesshire,  Scotland)

By the nineteenth century the tower had become ruinous but was restored in the 1960’s. The mansion has been demolished.

Francis Grose, 1731 to 1791, was a noted antiquary and lexicographer, who produced among other works, the ‘Antiquities of Scotland’ from 1788 when he embarked on a series of tours of Scotland. On one of his visits he met Robert Burns but it was a meeting with a lady at Spedlins Tower which provided him with the haunting tale which is associated with the tower.

During the reign of Charles 11 (1660-1685) the tower of Spedlins was lived in by Sir Alexander Jardine of Applegarth. During his day he imprisoned within its dungeon a miller, one Dunty Porteas, who, although his crime has never been substantiated, was accused of wilfully setting fire to the mill premises following some petty disagreement with Sir Alexander Jardine. Should this have been the case, then Jardine’s fury and subsequent action in incarcerating Porteas could pass as understandable. The mill would have been a great source of revenue to him.

Whilst Porteas festered in the dungeon, Sir Alexander was called away to Edinburgh. He rode north for the capital with the keys of the dungeon in his pocket. At the sight of the warder’s keys as he entered the West Port to the city, he recalled with alarm, that he had left no access back at Spedlins Tower to the unfortunate Porteas.

Immediately he ordered one of the servants who accompanied him in his travels north, to ride hard back to the tower and ensure that his prisoner was fed and watered.

Succour in time was not to be. In the period that Sir Alexander had been away Porteas had died of hunger. It is said that when found dead in the dungeon, the body of Porteas showed obvious signs that he had been gnawing at the flesh of his arms.

Very soon the ghost of Dunty Porteas began to haunt the tower of Spedlins. There was no respite from the torment of Porteas’ ethereal presence for the inhabitants either by night or day. Frightened and weary of the confrontations with a spirit in torment and its ghastly and recurring entreaty of ‘Let me out, let me out, for I’m deem (dying) of hunger’, Sir Alexander sent for a minister to exorcise the ghost.

The ghost, however, was too powerful and the best that could be achieved was to confine it to the dungeon. The bondage was completed through the means of a Bible which was stationed in a stone niche in the wall of the stair-case leading to the dungeon.

When the Jardine family left Spedlins Tower in the eighteenth century for the new mansion of Jardine Hall on the opposite bank of the river Annan, the Bible was left behind, ever on guard, a spiritual barrier to the ghost of Porteas; surety the he would remain in the dungeon.

At a later date, when the memories of Porteas had faded, and the Jardine family were comfortably ensconced in their mansion, it was decided that the Bible, a valuable book, should be rebound. Accordingly it was lifted from its stone niche and sent to Edinburgh.

Immediately, it is said, the ghost of Porteas crossed the river Annan and began to haunt the mansion. The good baronet and his lady were hurled out of bed. The torment was re-invigorated.

The Bible was recalled from Edinburgh before the refurbishment on its spine and cover even commenced and hastily replaced in its former resting place.

The hauntings of the mansion ceased.

A fanciful story, it is true, on a par with a similar one to that of Sir Alexander Ramsey who was supposed ly starved to death in Hermitage Castle (Roxburgh, Scottish Borders).

Hermitage Castle, Roxburgh, Scotland

Nevertheless it is a worthy addition to the history and lore of the Pele Towers of the Border Reivers. 

Border Reiver Pele Towers-Torwoodlee

In my last post I showed you some images of Border ReiverPele Towers I have visited over the years. I mentioned that some of them, whether lived in still today, or abandoned and slowly decaying, have left a rich legacy of legend, folklore, half fact and fact.

In this post I would like to tell you a little of the history of one tower in particular and ask you to recall that I have already posted stories of some of the others.

TORWOODLEE TOWER

Torwoodlee Tower

I first visited Torwoodlee about twelve years ago and was immediately impressed by the remnant grandeur of the place. It was obvious at first sight that it was atypical of a fortified tower of the times of the Border Reivers. Torwoodlee displays no walls of immense thickness and strength, no barrel vaulted undercroft or cellar, and looks altogether of too grand a scale to have been built in the violent and troubled times of the Border Reivers.

I was surprised to learn that it was built in 1601 just prior to the Union of the Crowns of Scotland and England in 1603. So why so defensively weak at a time when we believe the Reiving and feud among the clans and families of the English Scottish Border lands had intensified to such a pitch that the area was totally out of control?

Perhaps we are misled. Perhaps the people of the time recognised that the future would be more settled, less confrontational, more peaceful. Certainly they knew that on the death of the ageing queen of England, Elizabeth 1, the English crown would pass to a Scotsman, James V1, who was already king of Scotland and that the days of the Border Reivers were from that point, numbered.

 Perhaps the building of Torwoodlee heralded a new dawn of hope in a future devoid of theft, murder, blackmail and feud. Or perhaps the family that built it were confident of their ability and martial prowess, their strength to combat the ‘rodes’ of their enemies.

If the latter was true of 1601 it had not been so in the past.

Torwoodlee was built by George Pringle. It is still in the hands of the Pringles today.

(Has anyone recognised the name yet? Strikes a chord or rings a bell? Of course, you say, Pringle sweaters; renowned throughout the world especially in golfing circles. It was a Pringle who started the famous knitting business which would develop and become world famous).

There was a more fortified tower on almost the same site prior to that which can be seen today. The previous building was witness to murder most foul in the reiving times.

It was built by William Hoppringill, 1^st Laird of Torwoodlee, sometime about 1510 or slightly earlier, when the land was sold to him. He died in 1513 at the Battle of Flodden fighting for king and country against the English. It was a sad day for Scotland as it is said eight thousand Scots died with him including the Scottish king, James 1V.

His son, George, 2^nd Laird of Torwoodlee, was present at the Battle of Pinkie Cleugh in 1547, another major confrontation between the English and the Scots. He survived the battle.

He died at the old tower of Torwoodlee in 1568. The tower was attacked by three hundred Border Reivers from the Scottish West March who were led by John Elliot of Copshaw (Newcastleton, Liddesdale, Scottish Borders today), Robert Elliot and Jock Armstrong. George Hoppringill was captured in the attack – ‘captive and prisoner and most cruelly and unmercifully murderist and slain’.

Liddesdale

An outcome that was just one more example of the cruel and relentless feud that infested the Border country of the 16^th century!

 The murder of Hoppringill speaks volumes for the weakness of government in the 16^th century Borders and the escalating violence and crime. It was thirty nine years before an attempt was made to bring the murderers to justice. Many had died in the interim. Those still alive failed to appear for trial and were outlawed in 1607.

Even at a time following the Union of the Crowns in 1603, when a purge of the reiving communities was in full swing, it would appear that some of that fierce and aggressive horde of Reivers that descended on Torwoodlee  in their youth and prime, lived out their dotage sheltered from the justice that their crime deserved.

Liddesdale