Having to meet his parliament a few weeks after, the king went to Falkland to hunt. But the park of his Fife palace did not content him. Carnegie, Lord Kinnaird, son of a favourite minister of old, and himself a friend of the king, dwelt in state in a noble castle overlooking the embouchure of the South Esk in Forfarshire, with an extensive muir full of game close by—Muirthrewmont or Muirromon (as the country people call it). James gladly rode thither, for the sake of the abundant sport. The house of Kinnaird was furnished on the occasion for various pleasures, and deficient in no sort of enjoyment, Two poets of temporary and local fame came with courtly Latin strains suitable to the occasion. His majesty tarried ten days in the district, and then came to Dundee, which welcomed him with poem and with speech. Returning to Edinburgh, he set himself to drive his ends with the clergy, who were now less able or disposed to resist his innovations than they had been twenty years before. At his command, several of the Scottish councillors and bishops received the communion in the English manner in the Chapel-royal, and William Summers, one of the ministers of Edinburgh, officiated there, ‘observing the English form in his prayer and behaviour.’ ‘On the 15th June, some noblemen and bishops who had not communicat before, communicat kneeling, yet not half of the noblemen that were required. The ministers of Edinburgh, in the meantime, were silent; neither dissuaded the king privately, nor opened their mouth in public against this innovation, or bad example.’— Cal.

On the 19th of June, the king formally visited the Castle of Edinburgh, in order to celebrate his fifty-first birthday on the natal spot. Andrew Kerr, a boy of nine years of age, welcomed him at the gate in ‘ane Hebrew speech.’ At the banquet in the great hall, the English and Scottish nobility and the magistracy of Edinburgh met in the utmost amity and satisfaction. By the desire of the king, who wished to advance his native country in the eyes of the English, the wives and children of the Scottish nobility appeared in their finest dresses, shining with jewels, and were treated with great distinction. The feast was not over till nine at night; and after its conclusion, the Castle rang with a chorus of the ladies’ voices and a band of instruments. On the return of the royal party to the Palace, a great multitude assembled there to see ‘pastimes with firework.'

On the 26th, ‘there was a timber house erected on the back of the Great Kirk of Edinburgh [south side], which was decored with tapestry, where the town prepared a banquet for the king and the nobility. The day following, sundry knights and gentlemen of good note were banqueted in the same house, and made burgesses. They danced about the Cross with sound of trumpets and other instruments; throwed glasses of wine from the Cross upon the people standing about, and ended with the king’s scoll [health.] ‘—Cal.

In the air, the soil, and the natural productions of Scotland, this railer can find nothing goodly or agreeable. The thistle, he says, is the fairest flower in their garden. Hay is a word unknown. ‘Corn is reasonable plenty at this time; for, since they heard of the king’s coming, it hath been as unlawful for the common people to eat wheat, as it was of old for any but the priests to eat the show-bread. . . . . They would persuade the footmen that oaten cakes would make them well-winded; and the children of the chapel they have brought to eat of them for the maintenance of their voices.... They persuade the trumpeters that fasting is guid for men of their quality; for emptiness, they say, causeth wind, and wind causeth a trumpet sound sweetly.

‘They christen without the cross, marry without a ring, receive the sacrament without reverence, die without repentance, and bury without divine service. They keep no holidays, nor acknowledge any saint but St Andrew, who, they say, got that honour by presenting Christ with ane oaten cake after his forty days’ fast.... They hold their noses if you speak of bear-bating, and stop their ears if you speak of play.... I am verily persuaded if [the] angels at the last day should come down in their white garments, they would run away, and cry: "The children of the chapel are come again to torment us!" . . . . For the graven images in the new beautified chapel, they threaten to pull them down after his departure, and make of them a burnt-offering to appease the indignation they imagine is conceived against them in the breast of the Almighty for suffering such idolatry to enter their kingdom. The organs, I think, will find mercy, because they say there is some affinity between them and their bagpipes. The shipper that brought the singing-men with their papistical vestments, complains that he hath been much troubled with a strange singing in his head ever since they came aboard his ship; for remedy whereof the pastor of the parish hath persuaded him to sell the profaned vessel, and distribute the money among the faithful brethren.’

Our scribbler speaks of the women as huge-boned monsters, whereof the upper class are ‘kept like lions in iron grates. The merchants’ wives are likewise prisoners, but not in such strongholds. They have wooden cages [meaning the timber galleries in front of the houses], through which, peeping to catch the air, we are almost choked with the sight of them.... To draw you down from the citizen’s wife to the country gentlewomen, and so convey you to the common dames, were to bring you from Newgate to Bridewell.’

In an answer to this satire, a strong defence is entered on the subject of victuals and other materials of conviviality. ‘Except meat should have rained down from heaven, it could not be imagined more cheap, more plentiful. Ane of those twelve pies that were sold for a penny, might have stopped your mouth for his quarrel.... What else would you have had? You know there were some subjects that kept open butteries and cellars from morning till night.... The man is angry that all the taps were not pulled out, that every guid fellow might swim in sack. and claret.’

June 30
The king commenced a second excursion in his native dominion; by Stirling, Perth, St Andrews—thence back to Stirling, where he received a deputation of Edinburgh professors, who disputed before him in the Chapel-royal of the Castle, in the presence of the English and Scottish nobility and many learned men. Here the; British Solomon was quite in his element. The first question discussed ‘by the learned doctors was, "Ought sheriffs and other inferior magistrates to be hereditary?"—a question at this time agitated in the national senate, where it was the earnest wish of King James that it should be decided in the negative. As might have been expected, the oppugners of the question soon got the advantage; for the weighty arguments of royalty were thrown into that scale.

‘The king was highly delighted with their success; and turning to the Marquis of Hamilton (hereditary sheriff of Clydesdale), who stood behind his chair, said: "James, you see your cause is lost, and all that can be said for it is clearly answered and refuted."

‘The second thesis was On the Nature of Local Motion. The opposition to this was very great, and the respondent produced numerous arguments from Aristotle in support of his thesis, which occasioned the king to say: "These men know the mind of Aristotle as well as he did himself when alive."

‘The third thesis was Concerning the Origin of Fountains or Springs. The king was so well pleased with this controversy, that, although the three-quarters of an hour allotted for the disputation were expired, he caused them to proceed, sometimes speaking for and against both respondent and opponent, seldom letting an argument on either side pass without proper remarks.

‘The disputations being over, the king withdrew to supper; after which he sent for the disputants, whose names were John Adamson, James Fairlie, Patrick Sands, Andrew Young, James Reid, and William King, before whom he learnedly discoursed on the several subjects controverted by them, and then began to comment on their several names, and said: "These gentlemen, by their names, were destined for the acts they had in hand this day;" and proceeded as followeth:

"Adam was the father of all, and Adam’s son had the first part of this act. The defender is justly called Fairlie; his thesis had some fairlies in it, and he sustained them very fairly, and with many fair lies given to the oppugners. And why should not Mr Sands be the first to enter the sands? But now I clearly see that all sands are not barren, for certainly he hath shewn a fertile wit. Mr Young is very old in Aristotle. Mr Reid need not be red with blushing for his acting this day. Mr King disputed very kingly, and of a kingly purpose, concerning the royal supremacy of reason above anger and all passions. I am so well satisfied," added his majesty, "with this day’s exercise, that I will be godfather to the College of Edinburgh, and have it called the College of King James, for, after its founding, it stopped sundry years in my minority. After I came to knowledge, I held to it, and caused it to be established; and although I see many look upon it with an evil eye, yet I will have them know that, having given it my name, I have espoused its quarrel, and at a proper time will give it a royal god-bairn gift to enlarge its revenues." The king being told that there was one in company his majesty had taken no notice of—namely, Henry Charteris, principal of the College, who, though a man of great learning, yet, by his innate bashfulness, was rendered unfit to speak in such an august assembly—his majesty answered: "His name agrees well with his nature; for charters contain much matter, yet say nothing; and, though they say nothing, yet they put great things into men’s mouths."

‘The king having signified that he would be pleased to see his remarks on the professors’ names versified, it was accordingly done as follows:

In the course of his excursion, the king had a hunt in the neighbourhood of Dunfermline. At this time, the coal-works at Culross, on the shore of the Firth of Forth, were conducted with great activity under their enterprising proprietor, Sir George Bruce. James invited his company to dine with him at a collier’s house, referring to an elegant mansion which Sir George had built for his accommodation in the town of Culross. They proceeded in the first place to examine the coal-works, which were then wrought a considerable way under the sea, issuing at some distance from shore in a little island or moat, where the product of the mines was put directly on board vessels to be transported to various places. The king and his courtiers, unaware of this peculiar arrangement, were conducted along the mine till they reached the sea-shaft, and here being drawn up, found themselves suddenly surrounded by the waves. James, always apprehensive of attempts on his life, was excited to great alarm by this unexpected situation, and called out ‘Treason!’ His courteous host reassured him by pointing to an elegant pinnace moored by the moat to carry him ashore, in the event of his not wishing to return by the mine. Doubtless the affair added a little zest to the banquet which the party immediately after partook of in the hospitable mansion of Bruce.

The king pursued his progress by Glasgow, Paisley, Hamilton, and Dumfries, passing across the Border to Carlisle on the 5th of August, amidst the general regrets of his subjects. It was remarkable how much peace and good feeling prevailed amongst the people during the royal visit. The Chancellor Dunfermline, in afterwards summing up the whole affair to the king, said: ‘In all the time of your majesty’s remaining in this kingdom, in sae great companies, and sae many noblemen and great personages of twa nations convened, never ane action, word, or appearance of any discord, variance, or offence betwix any of the nations with other, for whatsomever cause. I doubt gif ever the like has been seen, at sic occasion of so frequent a meeting of men, strangers, and unknown to each other.’—M. S. P.

It may be worth mentioning, that by warrant signed at Hitchinbroke, October 23, 1618, the king gave to Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank ‘a gilt basin which was given to us by our burgh of Edinburgh, with their propine of money, at our first entry of the said burgh, at our last being in our said kingdom; together with two gilt cups, one of them in form of a salmon, presented to us by our burgh of Glasgow; and another gilt cup which was given us by the town of Carlisle; together with some remanent of musk and ambergrise, which was unspent at our being there; and, lastly, ane large iron chest, which did sometime belong to the late Earl of Gowrie.’—An. Scot.

1618, Feb
The king’s attention was drawn to two abuses in the police of the city of Edinburgh. Notwithstanding the warning given by a fire in 1584, it was still customary for baxters and browsters to keep stocks of heather and whins in the very heart of the city, to the great hazard of adjacent buildings; and individuals disposed to build houses within the city were in some instances prevented by a fear of the risk to which they would be thus exposed. The other evil complained of was less dangerous, but more offensive, Candlemakers and butchers were allowed to pursue their callings within the town, to the great disgust of ‘civil and honest neighbours, and of the nobility and country people that comes there for their private adoes.’ Indeed, ‘it hath oftentimes fallen out, that in mony streets and vennels of the said burgh, the filth of slaughtered guids is in such abundance exposed to the view of the people, and the closes and streets sae filled therewith, as there can no passage be had through the same.’ A proclamation was launched against these abuses.—-P. C. R.

On the 4th of March 1619, the Privy Council sent an order to the magistrates of Edinburgh, demanding that they should take order for keeping the streets of the town clean, and describing the existing state of things in these terms: It ‘is now become so filthy and unclean, and the streets, vennels, wynds, and closes thereof so overlaid and covent with middings, and with the filth of man and beast, as [that] the noble, councillors, servitors, and others his majesty’s subjects wha are lodgit within the said burgh, can not have ane clean and free passage and entry to their lodgings; wherethrough their lodgings have become so loathsome unto them, as they are resolved rather to make choice of lodgings in the Canongate and Leith, or some other parts about the town, nor [than] to abide the sight of this shameful uncleanliness and filthiness; whilk is so universal and in such abundance through all parts of this burgh, as in the heat of summer it corrupts the air, and gives great occasion of sickness; and, furder, this shameful and beastly filthiness is most detestable and odious in the sight of strangers, who, beholding the same, are constrained with reason to give out mony disgraceful speeches agains’ this burgh, calling it a puddle of filth and uncleanness, the like whereof is not to be seen in no part of the world.’ The plan of police proposed by the Council is for each inhabitant to ‘keep the streets foment their awn bounds clean, as is done in other civil, handsome, and wed-governed cities.’ No idea of a cleaning department of police.

Considering how closely Edinburgh was built, and that its numberless narrow alleys were kept in the state which is described, it is not at all surprising that the pest so frequently broke out within its bounds. We learn from the above edict that the natural connection of decaying organic matter with pestilential disease, was not then unknown; the fact was admitted, but neglected. At this time, the attention of the public in Scotland was concentrated on questions regarding religious observances— many of them of little substantial consequence—while these real life-and-death matters were wholly overlooked.

It is rather remarkable, that so early as 1527, there appears to have been a general arrangement for cleaning the city of Edinburgh at stated times, and with a profit to the corporation. In that year, there is an entry as follows in the Council Record of the city: ‘The gait-dichting, and duties thereof, is set this year to come, with the aventure of deid and weir, to Alexander Peunicuik, for the soum of £20, to be dicht and clengit sufficiently ilk 8 days anes, with a dozen of servants.’ Pennicuik is enjoined to ‘tak nae mair duties for the dichting thereof, except and allenarly of fish, flesh, salt, and victuals.’

May 13
The king having proposed that ‘the most notorious and lewd persons’ in the middle shires (Borders) might be ‘sent to Virginia, or some other remote parts,’ the councillors answered that it was not necessary, because the country was now reduced to ‘obedience and quietness;’ and it might even prove detrimental, seeing that many who were ‘in danger of the laws for auld feids,’ but had latterly been at peace, might, if they heard of such a design, ‘mak choice rather to loup out and become fugitives, nor to underly the hazard and fear of that matter.’

Notwithstanding the peace and obedience described as now existing, scarcely two years had elapsed when we find evidences that the king’s proposal was found to be rational and of promise. In April 1620, ‘a hundred and twenty of the broken men of the Borders were apprehended by the landlords and wardens of the Middle Marches, at the command of the Privy Council, and sent to the Bohemian wars, with Colonel Andrew Gray.’—Bal.

June 2
The Privy Council issued a commission to certain gentlemen in Irvine, to try two persons of that burgh accused of witchcraft. In the recital on which the commission proceeds, it is set forth—‘that John Stewart, vagabond, and Margaret Barclay, spouse to Archibald Deane, burgess of Irvine, were lately apprehendit upon most probable and clear presumption of their practising of witchcraft agains John Dean; burgess of Irvine, and procuring thereby the destruction of the said John, and the drowning and perishing of the ship called the Gift of God, of Irvine, and of the haill persons aifd goods being thereintill: likeas the said John Stewart, upon examination, has clearly and pounktallie confessit the said devilish practices, and the said Margaret, foolishly presuming by her denial to eschew trial and punishment, doeth most obdurately deny the truth of that matter, notwithstanding that the said John constantly avows the same upon her,’ &c.

It appears that Margaret Barclay had conceived and expressed violent hatred of her brother-in-law, John Deane, and his wife, in consequence of their raising or propagating a scandal against her. John Deane’s ship having been lost at Padstow, on the English coast, and John Stewart, a spaeman, having spoken of this fact before it was known by ordinary means, a suspicion arose that the latter had been concerned in some sorcery by which the vessel had suffered. On his being taken up, a confession was extorted from him, that he had taught magical arts to Margaret Barclay, by which she had brought about the loss of the vessel; and he narrated a ridiculous scene of enchantment as having occurred on the shore, with the devil present in the form of a lady’s lapdog, Margaret Barclay being the principal actor. Margaret was then apprehended, as also one Isobel Tosh, whom Stewart described as an assistant at the evil deed. Margaret’s servant-girl, a child of eight years of age, and Isobel Tosh, were, apparently through terror, induced to make admissions supporting Stewart’s statement. A most tragical series of incidents followed. Isobel Tosh, trying to escape from prison, fell and hurt herself so much that she died in a few days. Stewart hanged himself in prison. Margaret Barclay, tortured by the laying of weights upon her limbs, confessed what was laid to her charge; and though she denied all when relieved, yet was she condemned and executed, finally returning to an acknowledgment of guilt, which can only be attributed to hallucination. Throughout all this affair—to all appearance consisting of a series of forced accusations and confessions, till reason at length gave way in the principal party—the Earl of Eglintoun, so noted afterwards as a Covenanter, took part along with the commissioners; while the assistant parish clergyman, Mr David Dickson, and several other ministers, most of them noted in the annals of the time as men of extraordinary piety, assisted in working on the religious feelings of the accused to induce confession. It does not seem ever to have occurred to any of these well-meaning persons, lay or clerical, that a worthy duty in the case would have been to inquire into the facts, and judge by collating them, whether there was any ground whatever for the accusation.

June 11
The Privy Council was informed of ‘an abuse lately taken up by a number of young boys and pages, servants to noblemen, barons, and gentlemen.’ It was represented that these persons, ‘whenever they fund ony boy newly enterit in service, or pagerie, as they term it, lay hands upon him, and impose upon him [the payment of] some certain pieces of gold, to be spent in drinking, riot, and excess, for receiving of him in their society and brotherheid.’ It was further alleged that, ‘if ony of thir new enterit boys refuse to condescend to them in this point, they do then shamefully misuse them, awaiting all occasions to harm and disgrace them;’ so that many open disturbances were the consequence. The Council issued a proclamation against these practices, threatening heavy punishment to all who might be guilty of the like in future.—P. C. R.

June 20
‘At twa afternoon, David Toshach of Monyvaird, younger, [was] slain in the south gate of Perth by Lawrence Bruce, younger of Cultmalindy, his brother, and divers others their associates; the twa that was with Monyvaird, ane deadly hurt, but died not; the other [David Malloch], his right hand clean stricken fra him. This done in a moment of time. All the committers thereof eschewit out of the town, before any of the townsmen heard of ony such thing."

No one seems to have immediately suffered for this outrage; but, four years after, the Privy Council informed the king that Cultmalindy, besides banishing his two sons and a servant, had offered a thousand crowns by way of assythment to the friends of the slaughtered man, and £2000 to the two men who had been mutilated. ‘This feid,’ it is added, ‘has altogether undone auld Cuitmalindy; for his estate is exhausted and wracked, and he is become very waik of his judgment and understanding, by the grief that thir troubles has brought upon him; whilk were the occasion of his wife’s death, and of the exile and banishment of his sons and friends, now by the space of four years; in the whilk exile twa of his friends of good rank and quality has departed this life.’—Pit.

Mr Pitcairn quotes a local proverb as having apparently taken its rise with reference to the misfortune of one of Monyvaird’s servants:

It was rather a bitter jest for David. This person, from the locality, may be presumed to have been an ancestor, or near collateral relation, of David Malloch, subsequently called Mallet, the poet.

June
The king’s declaration regarding sports on the Sunday and other holidays came to Edinburgh. It commenced with a judicious allusion to the abundance of papists in Lancashire. He had there found, too, the people complaining that they were prevented from indulging in their ancient sports. One effect of this must be that they would think papistry a better religion, since it allowed of sports. Another inconvenience is, ‘that this prohibition barreth the common and meaner people from using such exercises as may make their bodies more able for war, when we or our successors shall have occasion to use them, and, in place thereof, sets up filthy tipplings and drunkenness, and breeds a number of idle and discontented speeches in their ale-houses; for when shall the common people have leave to exercise, if not upon the Sundays and holidays, seeing they must apply their labour, and win theft living in other days.’ The king therefore willed that no lawful recreation be barred to the people—’such as dancing, either men or women; archery fur men, leaping, vaulting . . . . nor from having of May-games, Whitsun-ales, and Morris-dances, and the setting up of May-poles;’ seeing, however, that no one was allowed so to indulge who had not previously attended service in church.

When James Somerville of Drum was at school at the village of Dalserf in Lanarkshire, about 1608, it was customary ‘to solemnise the first Sunday of May with dancing about a May-pole, firing of pieces, and all manner of revelling then in use.’ His grandson tells an anecdote apropos: ‘There being at that time few or no merchants in this petty village, to furnish necessaries for the scholars’ sports, this youth resolves to furnish himself elsewhere, that so he may appear with the bravest. In order to this, by break of day, he rises and goes to Hamilton, and there bestows all the money that for a long time before he had gotten from his friends, or had otherwise purchased, upon ribbons of divers colours, a new hat and gloves. But in nothing he bestowed his money more liberally than upon gunpowder, a great quantity whereof he buys for his own use, and to supply the wants of his comrades. Thus furnished with these commodities, but with ane empty purse, he returns to Dalserf by seven o’clock (having travelled that Sabbath morning above eight miles), puts on his . . . . clothes and new hat, flying with ribbons of all colours; in this equipage, with his little fusee upon his shoulder, he marches to the churchyard where the May-pole was set up, and the solemnity of that day was to be kept. There first at the foot-ball he equalled any that played; but for handling of his piece in charging and discharging, he was so ready, that he far surpassed all his fellow-scholars, and became a teacher of that art to them before the thirteenth year of his own age. The day’s sport being over, he had the applause of all the spectators, the kindness of his condisciples, and the favour of the whole inhabitants of that little village.’ —Mem. Som.