Your correspondent este, in allusion to the arms of the Holt family, in a window of the church of Aston-juxta-Birmingham, refers to the tradition that one of the family “murdered his cook, and was afterwards compelled to adopt the red hand in his arms.”  Este is perfectly correct in his concise but comprehensive particulars.  That which, by the illiterate, is termed “the bloody hand,” and by them reputed as an abatement of honour, is nothing more than the “Ulster badge” of dignity.  The tradition adds, that Sir Thomas Holt murdered the cook in a cellar, at the old family mansion, by “running him through with a spit,” and afterwards buried him beneath the spot where the tragedy was enacted.  I merely revert to the subject, because, within the last three months, the ancient family residence, where the murder is said to have been committed, has been levelled with the ground; and among persons who from their position in society might be supposed to be better informed, considerable anxiety has been expressed to ascertain whether any portion of the skeleton of the murdered cook has been discovered beneath the flooring of the cellar, which tradition, fomented by illiterate gossip, pointed out as the place of his interment.  Your correspondents would confer a heraldic benefit if they would point out other instances—­which I believe to exist—­where family reputation has been damaged by similar ignorance in heraldic interpretation.

The ancient family residence to which I have referred was situated at Duddeston, a hamlet adjoining Birmingham.  Here the Holts resided until May, 1631, when Sir Thomas took up his abode at Ashton Hall, a noble structure in the Elizabethan style of architecture, which, according to a contemporary inscription, was commenced in April, 1618, and completed in 1635.  Sir Thomas was a decided royalist, and maintained his allegiance to his sovereign, although the men of Birmingham were notorious for their disaffection, and the neighbouring garrison of Edgbaston was occupied by Parliamentarian troops.  When Charles I., of glorious or unhappy memory, was on his way from Shrewsbury to the important battle of Edgehill, {507} on the confines of Warwickshire, he remained with Sir Thomas, as his guest, from the 15th to the 17th of October (vide Mauley’s Iter Carolinum, Gutch’s Collectanea, vol. ii. p. 425.); and a closet is still pointed out to the visitor where he is said to have been concealed.  A neighbouring eminence is to the present day called “King’s Standing,” from the fact of the unhappy monarch having stood thereon whilst addressing his troops.  By his acts of loyalty, Sir Thomas Holt acquired the hostility of his rebellious neighbours; and accordingly we learn that on the 18th of December, 1643, he had recourse to Colonel Leveson, who “put forty muskettiers into the house” to avert impending dangers; but eight days afterwards, on the 26th of December, “the rebels, 1,200 strong, assaulted it, and the day following tooke it, kil’d 12, and ye rest made prisoners, though w’th losse of 60 of themselves.” (Vide Dugdale’s Diary, edited by Hamper, 4to. p. 57.) The grand staircase, deservedly so entitled, bears evident marks of the injury occasioned at this period, and an offending cannon-ball is still preserved.