I was sent a screen shot and a message on Instagram is this your ancestor? Did you know she was Queen of the Gypsies? A portrait by Reynolds, they’d seen it in a show in Portsmouth. The blurb read Lady Janet Anstruther, formerly Fall, (pronounced Faw) her Traveller blood not forgiven by polite society, or words to that effect, I’ve summarised. Andy did some digging. He discovered this. They lived at Elie House which her husband, Sir John, had remodelled, extended and generally refurbished to please them both. The village of Balclevie lay unfortunately in their view, Janet ordered it levelled. A woman from the village took umbrage at this and laid a curse on the Anstruther family that Elie House would be lost to them, and that they would have some sort of trouble with the sea. Janet loved to bathe naked, her husband built a tower above a cove in which she could strip out of that pink dress, discard the ribbon tied about her pale neck, throw off those stays and undergarments, climb down amongst rocks to wade out into the freezing waters of Fife and swim amongst the seals. A man servant was tasked with walking the surrounding lanes bell ringing to guard her dignity, warning others to stay away. I read a letter apparently from Reynolds to Walpole, though god knows with the internet it could have been made up, but it reported this: Reynolds went to Elie House as invited to begin this portrait and Lady Anstruther was not there. He observed her likeness in other paintings and was convinced of her great beauty. He took a walk to the beach, hearing that she liked to swim. Edging quietly across the sand beneath the tower he saw a seal bathing on a rock, its body an impossible shade of grey and blue that no artist could capture against the impossible grey-blue of sea and sky. It turned its great seal eyes upon him, he swears that trapped within them were the eyes of that beauty he had come to paint. A siren call of woman turned water beast, and as he watched, it slithered from the rock like mercury poured, and disappeared into freezing water. He heard the bell of the man servant, he was hurried away to the house but caught, before he left, a glimpse of one white arm surfacing and cresting the waves. The Lady’s Tower remains as it was built, a folly for a gypsy queen, taunted and rejected for her Traveller blood, who razed a home and brought a curse. I’ve stood there in the winter wilds of Scotland and watched the seals bathe and dive. Next time I shall wave and call out to her. Let her know also that the house was lost.
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Perhaps she was a Selkie, or it was just a way of dehumanising her. I’ve walked by there many times but never ventured into the sea. Too cold without a sealskin perhaps.
Lovely recreation that turns back to your story.