It appears on the 28th May 1601, that the king owed ‘nine score thousand punds money’ to Thomas Foulis, goldsmith, Robert Jowsie, merchant-burgess of Edinburgh, and Thomas Acheson, master-cunyier, who were in consequence subject to infinite complaints from their creditors. His majesty professed ‘guid affection and desire to the payment thereof,’ and arranged that it should be discharged in the course of eleven years by a preferable power over the receipts of the royal rents. ‘His majesty als promittis to give to Thomas, his wife and bairns, during their lifetime successive after others, ane yearly pension of ane thousand punds money.’—P. C. R.
In December 1602, a piteous complaint was made before the Privy Council by Andrew Lockhart, regarding the hardship he underwent as a creditor of Thomas Foulis and Robert Jowsie, through the effect of a supersedere they had obtained for their debts. He speaks of having been, ‘with his wife and aucht bairns,’ reduced to misery, through the non-payment of what these men owed him, ‘he being ane aigit gentleman, and a brother of ane honourable house,’ The Council could not interfere, but engaged that when the present supersedere run out, which it would do erelong, no other should be granted.—P. C. R.
Feb. 8.
The impunity of numberless murders and other atrocious crimes in this reign is not more remarkable than the severity occasionally exhibited in comparatively trifling cases. For making a false writ in a matter of three hundred merks, five citizens of Edinburgh were condemned to death. Such, likewise, was the issue of the trial of John Moscrop, writer in Edinburgh, for giving himself out as a notary, and subscribing divers papers as such, he not being one. The six men appear to have all been tried on one day, and the end of the affair is chronicled by Birrel: ‘John Windieyetts, John Moscrop, Alexander Lowrie, John Halliday, and Captain James Lowrie [were] all hangit at the Cross of Edinburgh for counterfeiting false writs; whilk was great pity to see.’—Bir.
Feb. 16.
It was now five years since the tragic death of the Earl of Moray, and yet his corpse lay unburied. So also did that of the late Lord Maxwell, killed in a conflict with the Johnstons, in December 1593.
Stigmatising this as an abuse that ‘of late has croppin in,’ and in order to prevent the example from being followed, the king and Council issued an order to the respective relatives of the two noblemen, that they have the bodies buried in their ordinary places of sepulture within twenty days, under pain of rebellion.—P. C. R.