In 1507 an experiment, more foolish than interesting, was made at Stirling Castle in the presence of James IV. and his nobles. John Damian, a foreigner, known as the French Leech, had wormed his way by various arts into the King’s favour. The alchemical investigations which he carried on at Stirling and elsewhere led James to reward his labours by appointing him Abbot of Tungland, in Galloway. Feeling that he was losing his place in the royal favour, however, Damian determined to reinstate himself by means of a hazardous enterprise. Announcing that with a pair of wings of his own making he would fly from the battlements of Stirling Castle and be in France before the King’s ambassadors, he convoked a large assembly to witness his bold adventure. He sprang into the air, but fell at once to the ground, and was fortunate in escaping with no greater injury than the fracture of a leg. The jeers of the disappointed multitude caused the Abbot more pain than did the broken limb; but the King, ever fascinated by the foreigner’s fatuous practices, received him again at Court. This incident is the subject of Dunbar’s satirical poem called the “Ballad of the Fenzeit Freir of Tungland.” The brightness of the Court at Stirling was clouded by the shadow of approaching Flodden. Revels were interrupted by visits of ambassadors; the King was unable to cast care aside. Nicholas West, the envoy of Henry VIII., held several interviews with James in the castle in April, 1513. West did his utmost to induce the Scottish monarch to abandon the league with France. He was unwilling to leave James without extracting a promise that no invasion of England would take place when Henry crossed the Channel. The King of Scots stood firm, however, and would not agree to desert his old ally, so the disappointed and angry ambassador departed from Scotland, hating the people and being hated in return. Not many months later James lay dead on Flodden Field, and the nation suffered a blow from which it did not completely recover until its existence as a separate state had ceased. CHAPTER IV. JAMES V. AND MARY. James V. in an especial sense belongs to Stirling Castle. True, Linlithgow was his birthplace, but he was brought at a tender age to Stirling, and although much of his early life was spent in Edinburgh Castle, he seems to have regarded ancient Snowdon as his favourite place of residence. It was usually from Stirling that James travelled in disguise to make himself acquainted with the habits of his people and to hear the complaints of his peasant subjects. The name “Gudeman o’ Ballengeich,” by which he chose to be called on those occasions, was a designation taken from a hollow or pass that separates the Gowan Hills from the castle rock of Stirling.