Such was the contemporary Vindication of Gowrie, sent to Carey, at

Berwick, for English reading, and forwarded by Carey to Cecil. The

narrative is manifestly false, on the points which we have noted. It is

ingeniously asserted by the vindicator that _a servant of James_ brought

the report that he had ridden away. It is not added that the false

report was really brought by Cranstoun, and twice confirmed by Gowrie,

once after he had gone to make inquiry upstairs. Again, the apologist

never even hints at the locked door of the gallery chamber, whereat Mar,

Lennox, and the rest so long and so vainly battered. Who locked that

door, and why? The subject is entirely omitted by the apologist. On the

other hand, the apologist never alludes to the Murrays, who were in the

town. Other writers soon after the events, and in our own day, allege

that James had arranged his plot so as to coincide with the presence of

the Murrays in Perth. What they did to serve him we have heard. John

Murray was wounded by a Ruthven partisan after the Earl and Master were

dead. Some Murrays jostled Gowrie, before he rushed to his death. Young

Tullibardine helped to pacify the populace. That is all. Nothing more

is attributed to the Murrays, and the contemporary apologist did not try

to make capital out of them.

Though the narrative of the contemporary apologist for the Ruthvens

appears absolutely to lack evidence for its assertions, it reveals, on

analysis, a consistent theory of the King's plot. It may not be

verifiable; in fact it cannot be true, but there is a theory, a system,

which we do not find in most contemporary, or in more recent arguments.

James, by the theory, is intent on the destruction of the Ruthvens. His

plan was to bring the Master to Falkland, and induce the world to believe

that it was the Master who brought _him_ to Perth. The Master refuses

several invitations; at last, on his way to Dirleton, he goes to

Falkland, taking with him Andrew Ruthven and Andrew Henderson. The old

apologist asserts, what modern vindicators deny, that Henderson was at

Falkland.

Then the Master sends Henderson first, Andrew Ruthven later, to warn

Gowrie that, for some unknown reason, the King is coming. To conceal his

bloody project (though the apologist does not mention the circumstance),

James next passes four hours in hunting. _To omit this certain fact is

necessary for the apologist's purpose_. The King sends thirty horsemen

in front of him, and follows with thirty more. After dinner he leaves

the hall with the Master, but sends him back for Erskine, Wilson, and

Ramsay. James having secured their help, and next lured the Master into

a turret, the minions kill Ruthven and throw his body downstairs; one of

them, simultaneously, is in the street. James has previously arranged

that one of his servants shall give out that the King has ridden away.

This he does announce at the nick of time (though Gowrie's servant did

it), so that Gowrie shall go towards the stables (where he expects to

find his horse, though he knows it is at Scone), thus coming within

earshot of the turret window. Thence James shouts to Gowrie that

traitors are murdering him, and have murdered the Master. Now this news

would bring, not only Gowrie, but all the Royal retinue, to his Majesty's

assistance. But, as not knowing the topography of the house, the

retinue, James must have calculated, will run up the main stairs, to

rescue the King. Their arrival would be inconvenient to the King (as the

nobles would find that James has only friends with him, not traitors), so

the King has had the door locked (we guess, though we are not told this

by the apologist) to keep out Lennox, Mar, and the rest. Gowrie,

however, has to be admitted, and killed, and Gowrie, knowing the house,

will come, the King calculates, by the dark stair, and the unlocked door.

Therefore James's friends, in the street, will let him and Cranstoun

enter the house; these two alone, and no others with them. They, knowing

the narrow staircase, go up that way, naturally. As naturally, Gowrie

lets Cranstoun face the danger of four hostile swords, alone. Waiting

till Cranstoun is disabled, Gowrie then confronts, alone, the same

murderous blades, is disarmed by a _ruse_, and is murdered.

This explanation has a method, a system. Unfortunately it is

contradicted by all the evidence now to be obtained, from whatever source

it comes, retainers of Gowrie, companions of James, or burgesses of

Perth. We must suppose that Gowrie, with his small force of himself and

Cranstoun, both fencers from the foreign schools, would allow that force

to be cut off in detail, one by one. We must suppose that Erskine was

where he certainly was not, in two places at once, and that Ramsay and

Herries and he, unseen, left the hall and joined the King, on a message

brought by the Master, unmarked by any witness. We must suppose that the

King's witnesses, who professed ignorance on essential points, perjured

themselves on others, in batches. But, if we grant that Mar, Lennox, and

the rest--gentlemen, servants, retainers and menials of the Ruthvens, and

citizens of Perth--were abandoned perjurers on some points, while

scrupulously honourable on others equally essential, the narrative of the

Ruthven apologist has a method, a consistency, which we do not find in

modern systems unfavourable to the King.

For example, the modern theories easily show how James trapped the

Master. He had only to lure him into a room, and cry 'Treason.' Then,

even if untutored in his part, some hot-headed young man like Ramsay

would stab Ruthven. But to deal with Gowrie was a more difficult task.

He would be out in the open, surrounded by men like Lennox and Mar, great

nobles, and his near kinsmen. They would attest the innocence of the

Earl. They must therefore be separated from him, lured away to attack

the locked door, while Gowrie would stand in the street asking 'What is

the matter?' though James had told him, and detained by the Murrays till

they saw fit to let him and Cranstoun go within the gate, alone. Then,

knowing the topography, Gowrie and Cranstoun would necessarily make for

the murder-chamber, by the dark stair, and perish. The Royal wit never

conceived a subtler plot, it is much cleverer than that invented by Mr.

G. P. R. James, in his novel, 'Gowrie.' Nothing is wrong with the system

of the apologist, except that the facts are false, and the idea a trifle

too subtle, while, instead of boldly saying that the King had the gallery

chamber locked against his friends, the apologist never hints at that

circumstance.

We have to help the contemporary vindicator out, by adding the detail of

the locked door (which he did not see how to account for and therefore

omitted), and by explaining that the King had it locked himself, that

Lennox, Mar, and the rest might not know the real state of the case, and

that Gowrie might be trapped through taking the other way, by the narrow

staircase.

An author so conspicuously mendacious as he who wrote the Apology for

English consumption is unworthy of belief on any point. It does not

follow that Henderson was really at Falkland because the apologist says

that he was. But it would appear that this vindicator could not well

deny the circumstance, and that, to work it conveniently into his fable,

he had to omit the King's hunting, and to contradict the Hays and

Moncrieff by making Henderson arrive at Perth after twelve instead of

about ten o'clock.

The value of the Apology, so long overlooked, is to show how very poor a

case was the best that the vindicator of the Ruthvens was able to

produce. But no doubt it was good enough for people who wished to

believe. {93}

VIII. THE THEORY OF AN ACCIDENTAL BRAWL

So far, the King's narrative is least out of keeping with probability.

But had James been insulted, menaced, and driven to a personal struggle,

as he declared? Is the fact not that, finding himself alone with

Ruthven, and an armed man (or no armed man, if you believe that none was

there), James lost his nerve, and cried 'Treason!' in mere panic? The

rest followed from the hot blood of the three courtiers, and the story of

James was invented, after the deaths of the Gowries, to conceal the

truth, and to rob by forfeiture the family of Ruthven. But James had

certainly told Lennox the story of Ruthven and the pot of gold, before

they reached Perth. If he came with innocent intent, he had not

concocted that story as an excuse for coming.

We really must be consistent. Mr. Barbe, a recent Ruthven apologist,

says that the theory of an accidental origin of 'the struggle between

James and Ruthven may possibly contain a fairly accurate conjecture.'

{94} But Mr. Barbe also argues that James had invented the pot of gold

story before he left Falkland; that, if James was guilty, 'the pretext

had been framed'--the myth of the treasure had been concocted--'long

before their meeting in Falkland, and was held in readiness to use

whenever circumstances required.' If so, then there is no room at all

for the opinion that the uproar in the turret was accidental, but Mr.

Barbe's meaning is that James thus forced a quarrel on Ruthven. For

there was no captive with a pot of gold, nor can accident have caused the

tragedy, if Ruthven lured James to Falkland with the false tale of the

golden hoard. That tale, confided by James to Lennox on the ride to

Perth, was either an invention of the King's--in which case James is the

crafty conspirator whom Mr. Bruce, in 1602, did not believe him to be (as

shall be shown);--or it is true that Ruthven brought James to Perth by

the feigned story--in which case Ruthven is a conspirator. I reject, for

reasons already given, the suggestion that Lennox perjured himself, when

he swore that James told him about Ruthven's narrative as to the captive

and his hoard. For these reasons alone, there is no room for the

hypothesis of accident: either James or Ruthven was a deliberate traitor.

If James invented the pot of gold, he is the plotter: if Ruthven did,

Ruthven is guilty. There is no _via media_, no room for the theory of

accident.

The _via media_, the hypothesis of accident, was suggested by Sir William

Bowes, who wrote out his theory, in a letter to Sir John Stanhope, from

Bradley, on September 2, 1600. Bowes had been English ambassador in

Scotland, probably with the usual commission to side with the King's

enemies, and especially (much as Elizabeth loathed her own Puritans) with

the party of the Kirk. His coach had been used for the kidnapping of an

English gentleman then with James, while the Governor of Berwick supplied

a yacht, in case it seemed better to carry off the victim by sea (1599).

Consequently Bowes was unpopular, and needed, and got, a guard of forty

horsemen for his protection. He was no friend, as may be imagined, of

the King.

Bowes had met Preston, whom James sent to Elizabeth with his version of

the Gowrie affair. Bowes's theory of it all was this: James, the Master,

'and one other attending' (the man of the turret) were alone in a chamber

of Gowrie House. Speech arose about the late Earl of Gowrie, Ruthven's

father, whether by occasion of his portrait on the wall, or otherwise.

'The King angrily said he was a traitor, whereat the youth showing a

grieved and expostulatory countenance, and haplie Scotlike words, the

King, seeing himself alone and without weapon, cried Treason!' The

Master placed his hand on James's mouth, and knelt to deprecate his

anger, but Ramsay stabbed him as he knelt, and Gowrie was slain, Preston

said, after Ramsay had made him drop his guard by crying that the King

was murdered. The tale of the conspiracy was invented by James to cover

the true state of the case. {96}

This Bowes only puts forth as a working hypothesis. It breaks down on

the King's narrative to Lennox about Ruthven's captive and hoard. It

breaks down on 'one other attending'--the man in the turret--whatever

else he may have been, he was no harmless attendant. It breaks down on

the locked door between the King, and Lennox and Mar, which Bowes omits.

It is ruined by Gowrie's repeated false assurances that the King had

ridden away, which Bowes ignores.

The third hypothesis, the _via media_, is impossible. There was a

deliberate plot on one side or the other. To make the theory of Bowes

quite clear, his letter is appended to this section. {97}

IX. CONTEMPORARY CLERICAL CRITICISM

The most resolute sceptics as to the guilt of the Ruthvens were the

Edinburgh preachers. They were in constant opposition to the King, and

the young Gowrie was their favourite nobleman. As to what occurred when

the news of the tragedy reached Edinburgh, early on July 6, we have the

narrative of Mr. Robert Bruce, then the leader of the Presbyterians. His

own version is printed in the first volume of the Bannatyne Club

Miscellany, and is embodied, with modifications, and without

acknowledgment (as references to such sources were usually omitted at

that period), in Calderwood's History.

It is thus better to follow Mr. Bruce's own account, as far as it goes.

The preachers heard the 'bruit,' or rumour of the tragedy, by nine

o'clock on the morning of August 6. By ten o'clock arrived a letter from

James to the Privy Council: the preachers were called first 'before the

Council of the town,' and the King's epistle was read to them. '_It bore

that his Majesty was delivered out of a peril_, and therefore that we

should be commanded to go to our Kirks, convene our people, ring bells,

and give God praises.' While the preachers were answering, the _Privy_

Council sent for the Provost and some of the _Town_ Council.

The preachers then went to deliberate in the East Kirk, and decided 'that

we could not enter into the particular defence of' (the existence of?)

'the treason, seeing that the King was silent of the treason in his own

letter, and the reports of courtiers varied among themselves.'

This is not easily intelligible. The letter from Falkland of which

Nicholson gives an account on August 6, was exceedingly 'particular as to

the treason.' It is my impression, based mainly on the Burgh Records

quoted by Pitcairn, that the letter with full particulars cited by

Nicholson, was written, more or less officially, by the notary, David

Moysie, who was at Falkland, and that the King's letter was brief, only

requiring thanksgiving to be offered. Yet Nicholson says that the letter

with details (written by the King he seems to think), was meant for the

preachers as well as for the Privy Council (cf. p. 38, note).

The preachers, in any case, were now brought before the Privy Council and

desired, by Montrose, the Chancellor, to go to church, and thank God for

the King's 'miraculous delivery from that vile treason.' They replied

that 'they could not be certain of the treason,' but would speak of

delivery 'from a great danger.' Or they would wait, and, when quite sure

of the treason, would blaze it abroad.

'They' (the Council) 'said it should be sufficient to read his Majesty's

letter.'

This appears to mean that the preachers would content the Lords by merely

reading James's letter aloud to the public.

'We answered that we could not read his letter' (aloud to the people?)

'and doubt of the truth of it. It would be better to say generally, "if

the _report_ be true."'

The preachers would have contented the Lords by merely reading James's

letter aloud to their congregations. But this they declined to do; they

wished, in the pulpit, to evade the Royal _letter_, and merely to talk,

conditionally, of the possible truth of the _report_, or 'bruit.' This

appears to have been a _verbal_ narrative brought by Graham of Balgonie,

which seemed to vary from the long letter probably penned by Moysie. At

this moment the Rev. David Lindsay, who had been at Falkland, and had

heard James's story from his own mouth, arrived. He, therefore, was sent

to tell the tale publicly, at the Cross. The Council reported to James

that the six Edinburgh preachers 'would in no ways praise God for his

delivery.' In fact, they would only do so in general terms.

On August 12, James took the preachers to task. Bruce explained that

they could thank, and on Sunday had thanked God for the King's delivery,

but could go no further into detail, 'in respect we had no certainty.'

'Had you not my letter?' asked the King. Bruce replied that the letter

spoke only 'of a danger in general.' Yet the letter reported by

Nicholson was 'full and particular,' but that letter the preachers seem

to have regarded as unofficial. 'Could not my Council inform you of the

particulars?' asked the King. The President (Fyvie, later Chancellor

Dunfermline) said that they had assured the preachers of the certainty of

the treason. On this Bruce replied that they had only a report, brought

orally by Balgonie, and a letter by Moysie, an Edinburgh notary then at

Falkland, and that these testimonies 'fought so together that no man

could have any certainty.' The Secretary (Elphinstone, later Lord

Balmerino) denied the discrepancies.

James now asked what was the preachers' present opinion? They had heard

the King himself, the Council, and Mar. Bruce replied that, as a

minister, he was not fully persuaded. Four of the preachers adhered to

their scepticism. Two, Hewat and Robertson, now professed conviction.

The other four were forbidden to preach, under pain of death, and

forbidden to come within ten miles of Edinburgh. They offered terms, but

these were refused. The reason of James's ferocity was that the devout

regarded the preachers as the mouthpieces of God, and so, if _they_

doubted his word, the King's character would, to the godly, seem no

better than that of a mendacious murderer.

From a modern point of view, the ministers, if doubtful, had a perfect

right to be silent, and one of them, Hall, justly objected that he ought

to wait for the verdict in the civil trial of the dead Ruthvens. We

shall meet this Hall, and Hewatt (one of the two ministers who professed

belief), in very strange circumstances later (p. 217). Here it is enough

to have explained the King's motives for severity.

In September the recalcitrants came before the King at Stirling. All

professed to be convinced (one, after inquiries in Fife), except Bruce.

We learn what happened next from a letter of his to his wife. He had

heard from one who had been at Craigengelt's execution (August 23), that

Craigengelt had then confessed that Henderson had told him how he was

placed by Gowrie in the turret. {103} Bruce had sent to verify this.

Moreover he would believe, if Henderson were hanged, and adhered to his

deposition to the last: a pretty experiment! The Comptroller asked,

'Will you believe a condemned man better than the King and Council?' Mr.

Bruce admitted that such was his theory of the Grammar of Assent. 'If

Henderson die penitently I will trust him.' Later, as we shall see, this

pleasing experiment was tried in another case, but, though the witness

died penitently, and clinging to his final deposition, not one of the

godly sceptics was convinced.

'But Henderson saved the King's life,' replied the Comptroller to Mr.

Bruce.

'As to that I cannot tell,' said Mr. Bruce, and added that, if Henderson

took the dagger from Ruthven, he deserved to die for not sheathing it in

Ruthven's breast.

Henderson later, we know, withdrew his talk of his seizure of the dagger,

which James had never admitted. James now said that he knew not what

became of the dagger.

'Suppose,' said the Comptroller, 'Henderson goes back from that

deposition?'

'Then his testimony is the worse,' said Mr. Bruce.

'Then it were better to keep him alive,' said the Comptroller; but Mr.

Bruce insisted that Henderson would serve James best by dying penitently.

James said that Bruce made him out a murderer. 'If I would have taken

their lives, I had causes enough' (his meaning is unknown), 'I need not

have hazarded myself so.' By the 'causes,' can James have meant Gowrie's

attempts to entangle him in negotiations with the Pope? {104} These were

alleged by Mr. Galloway, in a sermon preached on August 11, in the open

air, before the King and the populace of Edinburgh (see _infra_, p. 128).

Mar wondered that Bruce would not trust men who (like himself) heard the

King cry, and saw the hand at his throat. Mr. Bruce said that Mar might

believe, 'as he were there to hear and see.'

He was left to inform himself, but Calderwood says, that the story about

Craigengelt's dying confession was untrue. Bruce had frankly given the

lie to the King and Mar, though he remarked that he had never heard Mar

and Lennox tell the tale 'out of their own mouths.' Mar later (September

24) most solemnly assured Mr. Bruce by letter, that the treason, 'in

respect of that I saw,' was a certain fact. This he professed 'before

God in heaven.' Meanwhile Mr. Hall was restored to his Edinburgh pulpit,

and Mr. Bruce, after a visit to _Restalrig_, a place close to Edinburgh

and Leith, went into banishment. {105a} If he stayed with the Laird of

Restalrig, he had, as will presently appear, a strange choice in friends

(pp. 148-167).

A later letter of Bruce's now takes up the tale. In 1601, Bruce was in

London, when Mar was there as James's envoy. They met, and Bruce said he

was content to abide by the verdict in the Gowrie trial of November 1600.

What he boggled at, henceforward, was a public apology for his disbelief,

an acceptance, from the pulpit, of the King's veracity, as to the events.

In London, Bruce had found that the Puritans, as to the guilt of Essex

(which was flagrant), were in the same position as himself, regarding the

guilt of Gowrie. {105b} But they bowed to the law, and so would he--'for

the present.'

The Puritans in England would not _preach_ that they were persuaded of

the guilt of Essex, nor would Bruce preach his persuasion of the guilt of

Gowrie, 'from my knowledge and from my persuasion.' He assured Mar 'that

it was not possible for any man to be fully persuaded, or to take on

their conscience, but so many as saw and heard.' However Bruce is

self-contradictory. He _would_ be persuaded, if Henderson swung for it,

adhering to his statement. Such were Mr. Brace's theories of evidence.

He added that he was not fully persuaded that there was any hell to go

to, yet probably he scrupled not to preach 'tidings of damnation.' He

wanted to be more certain of Gowrie's guilt, than he was that there is

hell-fire. 'Spiteful taunts' followed, Mar's repartee to the argument

about hell being obvious. Bruce must have asserted the existence of

hell, from the pulpit: though not 'fully persuaded' of hell. So why not

assert the King's innocence?

Bruce returned later to Scotland, and met the King in April 1602. Now,

he said, according to Calderwood, that he was 'resolved,' that is,

convinced. What convinced him? Mar's oath. 'How could _he_ swear?'

asked James; 'he neither saw nor heard'--that is, what passed between

James, the man in the turret, and the Master. 'I cannot tell you how he

could swear, but indeed he swore very deeply,' said Bruce, and reported

the oath, which must have been a fine example. James took Bruce's

preference of Mar's oath to his own word very calmly. Bruce was troubled

about the exact state of affairs between James and the Master. 'Doubt ye

of that?' said the King, 'then ye could not but count me a murderer.'

'It followeth not, if it please you, Sir,' said Mr. Robert, '_for ye

might have had some secret cause_.' {107a}

Strange ethics! A man may slay another, without incurring the guilt of

murder, if he has 'a secret cause.' Bruce probably referred to the

tattle about a love intrigue between Gowrie, or Ruthven, and the King's

wife. Even now, James kept his temper. He offered his whole story to

Bruce for cross-examination. 'Mr. Robert uttered his doubt where he

found occasion. The King heard him gently, and with a constant

countenance, which Mr. Robert admired.' But Mr. Robert would not

_preach_ his belief: would not apologise from the pulpit. 'I give it but

a doubtsome trust,' he said.

Again, on June 24, 1602, James invited cross-examination. Bruce asked

how he could possibly know the direction of his Majesty's intention when

he ordered Ramsay to strike the Master. 'I will give you leave to pose

me' (interrogate me), said James. {107b}

'Had you a purpose to slay my Lord?'--that is, Gowrie.

'As I shall answer to God, I knew not that my Lord was slain, till I saw

him in his last agony, and was very sorry, yea, prayed in my heart for

the same.'

'What say ye then concerning Mr. Alexander?'

'I grant I was art and part in Mr. Alexander's slaughter, for it was in

my own defence.'

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