On this day in 1590, King James VI of Scotland -- later also James I of England and Ireland -- made landfall at the port of Leith, after a perilous homeward voyage from his unplanned honeymoon in Denmark.
James's nuptial plans had not included a visit to his bride Anne's homeland: They had been married by proxy the previous August, with Anne taking ship for Scotland shortly thereafter. However, a series of mishaps (fatal cannon misfires, ships colliding and her own vessel springing a leak) combined with the onset of severe storms in the North Sea forced her fleet to refuge in Norway.
When James learned of her predicament in October, a moment of romantic bravado seized him and he assembled a 300-strong retinue to brave the crossing and personally deliver his young bride from her Nordic languor. They were finally able to complete their wedding proper on 23 November in the Bishop's Palace of Oslo.
By now, winter was closing in and the seas grew fiercer still, scuttling initial hopes of a prompt return voyage. In addition, since James had come all this way, his new in-laws couldn't very well let him toddle off again without treating him to a few months of Daneland's finest hospitality.
Amongst a packed regal itinerary during this ad-hoc diplomatic tour-cum-honeymoon, the academically-inclined king found time to liaise with many of the region's noted scholars and theologians. One such was Niels Hemmingsen, a Lutheran pastor and former vice-chancellor of the University of Copenhagen (before being fired by Jim's late father-in-law Frederick II) who had written prolifically on the subjects of witchcraft and demonology. James visited Hemmingsen in Roskilde where they enjoyed a lengthy discussion on matters philosophical and theological. Whether through Hemmingsen's tutelage in particular, or more generally through Denmark's greater preoccupation with witches at the time, the sojourn promoted the study of witchcraft to a significant core component of general theology in James's thinking thereafter.
All parties must end eventually, and James and Anne said their goodbyes and set sail for Scotland when Spring's calmer seas arrived. Their voyage proved eventful nonetheless, with one vessel of their fleet lost and the others severely imperilled by sudden unseasonal storms during the crossing. It was with more than a little relief that they finally made port at Leith on the 1st of May, 1590.
By now, rumours of supernatural mischief were already swirling amongst Danish society over the many improbable mishaps that had befallen Anne's initial attempted crossing and the royal couple's early attempts to sail homeward. Just a couple of months after their eventual return to Scotland, the Copenhagen Witch Trials commenced which culminated in two women being burned that September.
James reached the conclusion that similar demonic interventions to his final voyage might have emanated from closer to home, and so began the inquisitions that led by the year's end to the Berwick Witch Trials. Having rooted-out a veritable hotbed of necromancy in East Lothian, the king's interest in ridding society of witches by any means grew exponentially: In 1597 he published the book Daemonologie on the subject, and by the time he added the English crown to his hatstand in 1603 he was ready to impress upon his new kingdom the far more stringent regime of inquisition and punishment he had been cultivating in the North. Innovations including allowing the testimony of minors, and lending probative weight to "Devil's marks" (typically moles or birthmarks) on the accused, became standard from Berwick-upon-Tweed to Land's End, paving the way for thousands of tortures and executions to come.
Had Anne set sail for her consummation a little earlier on a calmer sea, or had her regal beau been a little less impetuous and wintered by the hearth to await her arrival, it's conceivable that countless lives might have been spared the centuries of misery inspired, at least in part, by a simple series of unfortunate events. Still, worse things happen at sea, eh?