know the weaknesses of human memories, and the illusions which impose
themselves upon our recollections, will lay great stress on the
discrepancies between Henderson's first deposition (in August), his
second (in November), and the statement of the King. In the footnote
printed below, {69a} Hudson explains the origin of certain differences
between the King's narrative and Henderson's evidence, given in August.
Hudson declares that James boasted of having taken the dagger out of
Ruthven's hands (which, in fact, James does not do, in his published
narration), and that Henderson claimed to have snatched the dagger away,
'to move mercy by more merit.' It is clear that James would not accept
his story of disarming Ruthven; Henderson omits _that_ in his second
deposition. For the rest, James, who was quite clever enough to discover
the discrepancies, let them stand, at the end of his own printed
narrative, with the calm remark, that if any differences existed in the
depositions, they must be taken as 'uttered by the deponer in his own
behouf, for obtaining of his Majesty's princely grace and favour.' {69b}
Henderson's first deposition was one of these which James printed with
his own narrative, and thus treated _en prince_. He was not going to
harmonise his evidence with Henderson's, or Henderson's with his. On the
other hand, from the first, Henderson had probably the opportunity to
frame his confession on the Falkland letter of August 5 to the
Chancellor, and the Provost of Edinburgh; and, later, on the printed
narrative officially issued at the close of August 1600. He varied, when
he did vary, in hopes of 'his Majesty's princely grace and favour,' and
he naturally tried to make out that he was not a mere trembling
expostulating caitiff. He clung to the incident of the garter which he
snatched from the Master's hand.
Henderson had no Royal model for his account of how he came to be in the
turret, which James could only learn from himself. Now that is the most
incredible part of Henderson's narrative. However secret the Ruthvens
may have desired to be, how could they trust everything to the chance
that the town councillor of Perth, upper footman, and Chamberlain of
Scone, would act the desperate part of seizing a king, without training
and without warning?
But _was_ Henderson unwarned and uninstructed, or, did he fail after
ample instruction? That is the difficult point raised by the very
curious case of Mr. Robert Oliphant, which has never been mentioned, I
think, by the many minute students of this bewildering affair.
VI. THE STRANGE CASE OF MR. ROBERT OLIPHANT
Suppose that men like the Ruthvens, great and potent nobles, had secretly
invited their retainer, Andrew Henderson, to take the _role_ of the armed
man in the turret, what could Henderson have done? Such proposals as
this were a danger dreaded even by the most powerful. Thus, in March
1562, James Hepburn, the wicked Earl of Bothwell, procured, through John
Knox, a reconciliation with his feudal enemy, Arran. The brain of Arran
was already, it seems, impaired. A few days after the reconciliation he
secretly consulted Knox on a delicate point. Bothwell, he said, had
imparted to him a scheme whereby they should seize Queen Mary's person,
and murder her secretary, Lethington, and her half-brother, Lord James
Stuart, later Earl of Moray. Arran explained to Knox that, if ever the
plot came to light, he would be involved in the crime of guilty
concealment of foreknowledge of treason. But, if he divulged the plan,
Bothwell would challenge him to trial by combat. Knox advised secrecy,
but Arran, now far from sane, revealed the real or imagined conspiracy.
To a man like Henderson, the peril in simply listening to treasonable
proposals from the Ruthvens would be even greater. If he merely declined
to be a party, and kept silence, or fled, he lost his employment as
Gowrie's man, and would be ruined. If the plot ever came to light, he
would be involved in guilty concealment of foreknowledge. If he
instantly revealed to the King what he knew, his word would not be
accepted against that of Gowrie: he would be tortured, to get at the very
truth, and probably would be hanged by way of experiment, to see if he
would adhere to his statement on the scaffold--a fate from which
Henderson, in fact, was only saved by the King.
What then, if the Gowries offered to Henderson the _role_ of the man in
the turret, could Henderson do? He could do what, according to James and
to himself, he did, he could tremble, expostulate, and assure the King of
his ignorance of the purpose for which he was locked up, 'like a dog,' in
the little study.
That this may have been the real state of affairs is not impossible. We
have seen that Calderwood mentions a certain Mr. Robert Oliphant (Mr.
means Master of Arts) as having been conjectured at, immediately after
the tragedy, as the man in the turret. He must therefore have been, and
he was, a trusted retainer of Gowrie. But Oliphant at once proved an
alibi; he was not in Perth on August 5. His name never occurs in the
voluminous records of the proceedings. He is not, like Henderson, among
the persons who fled, and for whom search was made, as far as the
documents declare, though Calderwood says that he was described as a
'black grim man' in 'the first proclamation.' If so, it looks ill for
James, as Henderson was a brown fair man. In any case, Oliphant at once
cleared himself.
But we hear of him again, though historians have overlooked the fact.
Among the Acts of Caution of 1600--that is, the records of men who become
sureties for the good behaviour of others--is an entry in the Privy
Council Register for December 5, 1600. {73} 'Mr. Alexander Wilky in the
Canongate for John Wilky, tailor there, 200_l._, not to harm John Lyn,
also tailor there; further, to answer when required touching his (John
Wilky's) pursuit of Lyn for revealing certain speeches spoken to him by
Mr. Robert Oliphant anent his foreknowledge of the treasonable conspiracy
of the late John, sometime Earl of Gowrie.'
Thus Robert Oliphant, M.A., had spoken to tailor Lyn, or so Lyn had
declared, about his own foreknowledge of the plot; Lyn had blabbed;
tailor Wilky had 'pursued' or attacked Lyn; and Alexander Wilky, who was
bailie of the Canongate, enters into recognisances to the amount of
200_l._ that John Wilky shall not further molest Lyn.
Now what had Oliphant said?
On the very day, December 5, when Alexander Wilky became surety for the
good behaviour of John Wilky, Nicholson, the English resident at
Holyrood, described the facts to Robert Cecil. {74a} Nicholson says
that, at a house in the Canongate, Mr. Robert Oliphant was talking of the
Gowrie case. He was a man who had travelled, and he inveighed against
the unfairness of Scottish procedure in the case of Cranstoun.
We have seen that Mr. Thomas Cranstoun, Gowrie's equerry, first brought
to Lennox and others, in the garden, the report that the King had ridden
away. We have seen that he was deeply wounded by Ramsay just before or
after Gowrie fell. Unable to escape, he was taken, examined, tortured,
tried on August 22, and, on August 23, hanged at Perth. He had invaded
and wounded Herries, and Thomas Erskine, and had encouraged the mob to
beleaguer the back gate of Gowrie House, against the King's escape. He
had been in France, he said, since 1589, had come home with Gowrie, but,
he swore, had not spoken six words with the Ruthvens during the last
fortnight. {74b} This is odd, as he was their Master Stabler, and as
they, by their friends' account, had been making every preparation to
leave for Dirleton, which involved arrangements about their horses.
In any case, Mr. Robert Oliphant, in a house in the Canongate, in
November or early December 1600, declared that Cranstoun, who, he said,
knew nothing of the conspiracy, had been hanged, while Henderson, _who
was in the secret_, _and had taken the turret part_, escaped, and
retained his position as Chamberlain of Scone. Henderson, at the
critical moment, had 'fainted,' said Oliphant; that is, had failed from
want of courage. Oliphant went on to say that he himself had been with
Gowrie in Paris (February-March 1600), and that, both in Paris and at
home in Scotland later, Gowrie had endeavoured to induce him to take the
part later offered to Henderson. He had tried, but in vain, to divert
Gowrie's mind from his dangerous project. This talk of Oliphant's leaked
out (through Lyn as we know), and Oliphant, says Nicholson, 'fled again.'
{75}
Of Oliphant we learn no more till about June 1608. At that time, the
King, in England, heard a rumour that he had been connected with the
conspiracy. A Captain Patrick Heron {76} obtained a commission to find
Oliphant, and arrested him at Canterbury: he was making for Dover and for
France. Heron seized Oliphant's portable property, 'eight angels, two
half rose-nobles, one double pistolet, two French crowns and a half, one
Albertus angel; two English crowns; one Turkish piece of gold, two gold
rings, and a loose stone belonging to one; three Netherland dollars; one
piece of four royals; two _quart decuria_; seven pieces of several coins
of silver; two purses, one sword; one trunk, one "mail," and two
budgetts.' Oliphant himself lay for nine months in 'the Gate House of
Westminster,' but Heron, 'careless to justify his accusation, and
discovering his aim in that business' (writes the King), 'presently
departed from hence.' 'We have tried the innocency of Mr. Robert
Oliphant,' James goes on, 'and have freed him from prison.' The Scottish
Privy Council is therefore ordered, on March 6, 1609, to make Heron
restore Oliphant's property. On May 16, 1609, Heron was brought before
the Privy Council in Edinburgh, and was bidden to make restitution. He
was placed in the Tolbooth, but released by Lindsay, the keeper of the
prison. In March 1610, Oliphant having again gone abroad, Heron
expressed his readiness to restore the goods, except the trunk and bags,
which he had given to the English Privy Council, who restored them to
Robert Oliphant. The brother of Robert, Oliphant of Bauchiltoun,
represented him in his absence, and, in 1611, Robert got some measure of
restitution from Heron.
We know no more of Mr. Robert Oliphant. {77} His freedom of talk was
amazing, but perhaps he had been drinking when he told the story of his
connection with the plot. By 1608 nothing could be proved against him in
London: in 1600, had he not fled from Edinburgh in December, something
might have been extracted. We can only say that his version of the case
is less improbable than Henderson's. Henderson--if approached by Gowrie,
as Oliphant is reported to have said that he _was_--could not divulge the
plot, could not, like Oliphant, a gentleman, leave Perth, and desert his
employment. So perhaps he drifted into taking the _role_ of the man in
the turret. If so, he had abundance of time to invent his most
improbable story that he was shut up there in ignorance of the purpose of
his masters.
Henderson was not always of the lamblike demeanour which he displayed in
the turret. On March 5, 1601, Nicholson reports that 'Sir Hugh Herries,'
the lame doctor, 'and Henderson fell out and were at offering of
strokes,' whence 'revelations' were anticipated. They never came, and,
for all that we know, Herries may have taunted Henderson with Oliphant's
version of his conduct. He was pretty generally suspected of having been
in the conspiracy, and of having failed, from terror, and then betrayed
his masters, while pretending not to have known why he was placed in the
turret.
It is remarkable that Herries did not appear as a witness at the trial in
November. He was knighted and rewarded: every one almost was rewarded
out of Gowrie's escheats, or forfeited property. But that was natural,
whether James was guilty or innocent; and we repeat that the rewards,
present or in prospect, did not produce witnesses ready to say that they
saw Henderson at Falkland, or in the tumult, or in the turret. Why men
so freely charged with murderous conspiracy and false swearing were so
dainty on these and other essential points, the advocates of the theory
of perjury may explain. How James treated discrepancies in the evidence
we have seen. His account was the true account, he would not alter it,
he would not suppress the discrepancies of Henderson, except as to the
dagger. Witnesses might say this or that to secure the King's princely
favour. Let them say: the King's account is true. This attitude is
certainly more dignified, and wiser, than the easy method of harmonising
all versions before publication. Meanwhile, if there were discrepancies,
they were held by sceptics to prove falsehood; if there had been absolute
harmony, that would really have proved collusion. On one point I suspect
suppression at the trial. Almost all versions aver that Ramsay, or
another, said to Gowrie, 'You have slain the King,' and that Gowrie (who
certainly did not mean murder) then dropped his points and was stabbed.
Of this nothing is said, at the trial, by any witnesses.
VII. THE CONTEMPORARY RUTHVEN VINDICATION
We now come to the evidence which is most fatally damaging to the two
unfortunate Ruthvens. It is the testimony of their contemporary
Vindication. Till a date very uncertain, a tradition hung about Perth
that some old gentlemen remembered having seen a Vindication of the
Ruthvens; written at the time of the events. {80} Antiquaries vainly
asked each other for copies of this valuable apology. Was it printed,
and suppressed by Royal order? Did it circulate only in manuscript?
In 1812 a Mr. Panton published a vehement defence of the Ruthvens.
Speaking of the King's narrative, he says, 'In a short time afterwards a
reply, or counter manifesto, setting forth the matter in its true light,
written by some friend of the Ruthven family, made its appearance. The
discovery of this performance would now be a valuable acquisition; but
there is no probability that any such exists, as the Government instantly
ordered the publication to be suppressed. . . . '
The learned and accurate Lord Hailes, writing in the second half of the
eighteenth century (1757), says, 'It appears by a letter of Sir John
Carey, Governor' (really Deputy Governor) 'of Berwick, to Cecil, 4th
September, 1600, that some treatise had been published in Scotland, in
vindication of Gowrie.' That 'treatise,' or rather newsletter, unsigned,
and overlooked by our historians (as far as my knowledge goes), is extant
in the Record Office. {81} We can identify it as the document mentioned
by Carey to Cecil in his letter of September 4, 1600. Carey was then in
command of Berwick, the great English frontier fortress, for his chief,
'the brave Lord Willoughby,' was absent on sick leave. On September 4,
then, from Berwick, Carey wrote to Sir Robert Cecil, 'I have thought good
to send you such' (information) 'as I have received out of Scotland this
morning on both sides, both on the King's part and the Earl's part, that
you may read them both together.'
Now we possess a manuscript, 'The Verie Maner of the Erll of Gowrie and
his brother their Death, quha war killit at Perth, the fyft of August, by
the Kingis Servanttis, his Majestie being present.' This paper is
directed to 'My Lord Governor,' and, as Carey was acting for 'My Lord
Governor,' Lord Willoughby, at Berwick, he received and forwarded the
document to Cecil. This is the Vindication, at least I know no other,
and no printed copy, though Nicholson writes that a 'book on the Ruthven
side was printed in England' (October 28, 1600).
The manuscript is in bad condition, in parts illegible; acids appear to
have been applied to it. The story, however, from the Gowrie side, can
be easily made out. It alleges that, 'on Saturday, August 1' (really
August 2), the lame Dr Herries came, on some pretext, to Gowrie's house.
'This man by my Lord was convoyed through the house, and the secret parts
shown him.'
Now there was no 'secret part' in the house, as far as the narratives go.
The entry to the narrow staircase was inconspicuous, but was noticed by
Ramsay, and, of course, was familiar to Gowrie and his men. On Tuesday,
the fatal day (according to the Ruthven Vindication), Gowrie's retainers
were preparing to go with him 'to Lothian,' that is to Dirleton, a castle
of his on the sea, hard by North Berwick. The narrator argues, as all
the friends of the Ruthvens did, that, if Gowrie had intended any
treason, his men would not have been busy at their houses with
preparations for an instant removal. The value of this objection is
null. If Gowrie had a plot, it probably was to carry the King to
Dirleton with him, in disguise.
[Picture: Dirleton Castle]
The Master, the apology goes on, whom the King had sent for 'divers times
before, and on August 5,' rode early to Falkland, accompanied by Andrew
Ruthven, and _Andrew Henderson_. None of James's men, nor James himself,
as we have remarked, saw Henderson at Falkland, and modern opponents of
the King deny (as the aforesaid Mr. Panton does) that he was there. Here
they clash with 'The Verie Manner' &c. issued at the time by Gowrie's
defenders. It avers that the Master, and his two men, did not intend to
return from Falkland to Perth. They meant to sleep at Falkland on the
night of the Fifth, and meet Gowrie, next day, August 6, 'at the
waterside,' and cross with him to the south coast of the Firth of Forth,
thence riding on (as other friendly accounts allege) to Dirleton, near
North Berwick. 'And Andrew Henderson's confessions testified this.' As
published, they do nothing of the sort. The Master 'took his lodging in
Falkland for this night.' Hearing that James was to hunt, the Master
breakfasted, and went to look for him. After a conversation with James,
he bade Henderson ride back to Perth, and tell Gowrie that, '_for what
occasion he knew not_,' the King was coming. Now after they all arrived
at Perth, the Master told Gowrie's caterer, Craigengelt, that the King
had come, 'because Robert Abercrombie, that false knave, had brought the
King there, to make his Majesty take order for his debt.' {83} This
fact was stated by Craigengelt himself, under examination. If Ruthven
spoke the truth, he did know the motive, or pretext, of the King's
coming, which the apologist denies. But Ruthven was not speaking the
truth; he told Craigengelt, as we saw, that he had been 'on an errand not
far off.'
As to the debt, James owed Gowrie a large sum, with accumulated interest,
for expenses incurred by Gowrie's father, when Lord Treasurer of Scotland
(1583-1584). James, in June 1600, as we shall see, gave Gowrie a year's
respite from the pursuit of his father's creditors, hoping to pay him in
the meanwhile. Whether this exemption would not have defended Gowrie
from Robert Abercromby; whether James would act as debt collector for
Robert Abercromby (a burgess of Edinburgh, the King's saddler), the
reader may decide. But the Master gave to Craigengelt this reason for
James's unexpected arrival, though his contemporary apologist says, as to
James's motive for coming to Perth, that the Master '_knew nothing_.'
Henderson having cantered off with his message, James rode to Perth
(nothing is said by the apologist of the four hours spent in hunting),
'accompanied by sixty horsemen, of whom thirty came a little before him.'
No trace of either the sixty or the thirty appears anywhere in the
evidence. No witness alludes to the arrival of any of the King's party
in front of him. On hearing from Henderson of the King's approach, says
the Vindication, Gowrie, who was dining, ordered a new meal to be
prepared. All the other evidence shows that Henderson came back to Perth
long before Gowrie dined, and that nevertheless Gowrie made no
preparations at all. Gowrie, with four others, then met the King, on the
Inch of Perth says the apologist. James kissed him when they met, the
kiss of Judas, we are to understand. He entered the house, and all the
keys were given to James's retainers. The porter, as we saw, really had
the keys, and Gowrie opened the garden gate with one of them. The
apologist is mendacious.
Dinner was soon over. James sent the Master to bid Ramsay and Erskine
'follow him to his chamber, where his Majesty, Sir Thomas Erskine, John
Ramsay, Dr. Herries, and Mr. Wilson, being convened, slew the Master, and
threw him down the stair, how, and for what cause they [know best]
themselves.' Of course it is absolutely certain that the Master did not
bring the other three men to James, in the chamber where the Master was
first wounded. Undeniably Herries, Ramsay, and Erskine were not brought
by the Master, at James's command, to this room. They did not enter it
till after the cries of 'Treason' were yelled by James from the window of
the turret. A servant of James's, says the apologist, now brought the
news that the King had ridden away. Cranstoun, Gowrie's man, really did
this, as he admitted. Gowrie, the author goes on, hearing of James's
departure, called for his horse, and went out into the street. There he
stood 'abiding his horse.' Now Cranstoun, as he confessed, had told
Gowrie that his horse was at Scone, two miles away. By keeping his
horses there, Gowrie made it impossible for him to accompany the Royal
retinue as they went on their useless errand (p. 21, _supra_). In the
street Gowrie 'hears his Majesty call on him out at the chamber window,
"My Lord of Gowrie, traitors has murdered your brother already, and ye
suffer me to be murdered also!"'
Nobody else heard this, and, if Gowrie heard it, how inept it was in him
to go about asking 'What is the matter?' He was occupied thus while
Lennox, Mar, and the others were rushing up the great staircase to rescue
the King. James, according to the Ruthven apologist, had told Gowrie
what the matter was, his brother was slain, and slain by Erskine, who,
while the Earl asked 'What is the matter?' was trying to collar that
distracted nobleman. The Master had brought Erskine to the King, says
the apologist, Erskine had slain the Master, yet, simultaneously, he
tried to seize Gowrie in the street. Erskine was in two places at once.
The apology is indeed 'a valuable acquisition.' Gowrie and Cranstoun,
and they alone, the apologist avers, were now permitted by James's
servants to enter the house. We know that many of James's men were
really battering at the locked door, and we know that others of Gowrie's
people, besides Cranstoun, entered the house, and were wounded in the
scuffle. Cranstoun himself says nothing of any opposition to their entry
to the house, after Gowrie drew his two swords.
Cranstoun, according to the apologist, first entered the chamber, alone,
and was wounded, and drawn back by Gowrie--which Cranstoun, in his own
statement, denies. After his wounds he fled, he says, seeing no more of
Gowrie. Then, according to the apologist, Gowrie himself at last entered
the chamber; the King's friends attacked him, but he was too cunning of
fence for them. They therefore parleyed, and promised to let him see the
King (who was in the turret). Gowrie dropped his points, Ramsay stabbed
him, he died committing his soul to God, and declaring that he was a true
subject.
This narrative, we are told by its author, is partly derived from the
King's men, partly from the confessions of Cranstoun, Craigengelt, and
Baron (accused of having been in the chamber-fight, and active in the
tumult). All these three were tried and hanged. The apologist adds that
James's companions will swear to whatever he pleases. This was unjust;
Ramsay would not venture to recognise the man of whom he caught a glimpse
in the turret, and nobody pretended to have seen Henderson at Falkland,
though the presence of Henderson at Falkland and in the chamber was an
essential point. But, among the King's crew of perjurers, not a man
swore to either fact.
What follows relates to Gowrie's character; 'he had paid all his father's
debts,' which most assuredly he had not done. As to the causes of his
taking off, they are explained by the apologist, but belong to a later
part of the inquiry.