Another child having an uncouth sickness, Wallace associated with Graham in a practice for her cure. They went under cloud of night ‘to the yard of James Finlay, burgess of Glasgow, where they remained the space of ane hour together practising sorcery and witchcraft, for curing of the bairn by unlawful means,’ and ‘that same night the sickness was ta’en aff the bairn and she convalesced thereof.’ For this, the two practitioners got a goose and a pint of wine. On another occasion, Wallace was alleged to have inflicted deadly sickness on a child, and allowed her to die.
Margaret had good counsel at her trial, and a stout defence was made; but all in vain. She was sentenced to be worried at a stake and burnt on the Castle Hill.—Pit.
May 22.
1622.
A Dunkirk ship, belonging to the king of Spain, came up to Leith pursued by two Dutch waughters, but both were quickly driven out of the Firth of Forth by a west wind. A few days thereafter, the same vessels came back to Leith, ‘where they had ane great fecht, frae twelve at night till four in the morning, and many men slain.’[403] The magistrates of Edinburgh interfered to prevent further hostilities, and the three vessels lay there inactive for half a year, the Dunkirker not being able to get away for fear of the superior metal of her enemies. At length, the king ordered that the Dunkirker should be allowed to go out, without being followed by the waughters for a couple of tides. On the 4th of May 1623, this vessel left the harbour accordingly, but it ran upon the Mussel-scap, ‘within two pair of butt-lengths to the Bulwark,’ and thus in due time became liable to the attack of the waughters. While these were playing their guns upon her, the authorities in the city, knowing well the king’s favour for Spain, whose Infanta his son was at this time courting, mustered forces and cannon, and came hastily to the rescue. Finding that the Dutch had boarded her, and put up the Prince of Orange’s colours, they sent men on board to put up the flag of the king of Great Britain. The people shewed themselves ill affected to the object. ‘Some few went down, with their swords, and their cloaks about them. The president, chiding the provost and bailies, said: “I always said to his majesty that Edinburgh was but a nest of traitors. I shall write to his majesty of this your rebellion.” It was answered: ... “Edinburgh is not bound to serve in such a service without their burgh roods.”’ An effort was made to secure the vessel within the harbour—‘it was sport to see the lords and their gentlemen hailing St Ambrose with a rope into the harbourie. But they laboured in vain, for the water began to fall.’ The end of the business was, that, one night, the Dutch, after respectfully removing the guard and flag, set the vessel on fire, and having destroyed it, set sail for their own seas.[404]
May 29.
‘The Landgrave of Hesse’s eldest son, of the second marriage, came to Edinburgh. His lodging and entertainment was not looked to with that respect that became.’[405]—Cal.