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Bruce long lay concealed in the house of Burnet’s great-grandmother, daughter of Sir John Arnot, a witness in the trial of Logan of Restalrig. Thus Burnet’s father had every means of knowing the belief of the contemporaries of Gowrie, and he may conceivably be Burnet’s source for the tale of Gowrie’s Tudor descent and Royal claims. They were almost or rather quite baseless, but they were current.
This heroic ancestor admitted that he hated 'arguments derived from religion, and, so far, the Marquis of Restalrig was quite with him, if the arguments bore on giving to the poor, or, indeed, to any one. In fact the marquis was that unpopular character, a miser. Your miser may be looked up to, in a way, as an ideal votary of Mammon, but he is never loved.
So Barbour sings, and to be named by Barbour, for a deed and a death so chivalrous, is honour enough. The Logans flourished in their eyrie above the Loch of Restalrig, and intermarried with the best houses, Sinclairs, Ogilvys, Homes, and Ramsays of Dalhousie. It may be that some of them sleep under the muddy floor of St.
Lady Restalrig opened the letter and wrote a postscript ‘Give this to Laird Bower, for I trow that he be ridden to Hell, as he ofttimes said to the Laird that he would do.’ In Letter IV. Logan tells Gowrie that he believes Bower ‘would ride to Hell’s gate to pleasure him.’ Sprot was now asked about two letters.
He could also sink to blackmailing the orphan child of his ‘brother,’ Logan of Restalrig. To go on with Sprot’s confessions; he had forged, he said, receipts from Logan to the man named Edward or Ned Heddilstane for some of the money which Heddilstane owed him. For these forgeries his client paid him well, if not willingly. Sprot frequently blackmailed Ned, ‘whenever he want siller.’
Their example did not affect the genuine ministers, frugal God- fearing men. On December 20, 1560, he was one of some six ministers who, with more numerous lay representatives of districts, sat in the first General Assembly. They selected some new preachers, and decided that the church of Restalrig should be destroyed as a monument of idolatry.
Robert Logan of Restalrig to . . . Rycht Honorabill Sir,—My dewty with servise remembred.
Logan, vous chassez de race. The old Restalrig blood is in your veins. 'My ancestors nearly nipped off with a king, and why can't I carry off a cook? Hustle her into a hansom 'Oh, bah! these are not modern methods. 'Il n'y a rien tel que d'enlever, said Logan. 'I never shall stain the cause with police-courts, said Merton. 'It would be fatal.
Bower appealed to Logan; it was Logan’s fault, not his. ‘One of two things,’ said Bower, ‘must make you sell your lands; either you think your children are bastards, or you have planned some treason.’ The children were not those of Lady Restalrig, but by former marriages.
The ghost of his guilt haunts Logan, he cannot drown it in a red sea of burgundy: life has lost its flavour; if he returns, it will be with the true Scottish desire to die in his own country, though of his ancient family’s lands he has not kept an acre. Pleasant rich Restalrig, strong Fastcastle, jolly Gunnisgreen of the ‘great Yules,’ all are gone. Nothing is left.
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