The Gowrie plot to assassinate King James VI of Scotland

This edited article about Scotland first appeared in Look and Learn issue number 538 published on 6 May 1972.

Breathlessly, the Master of Ruthven told king James IV a strange tale – that he had seen a cloaked figure stealing through the night in the streets of Perth, by Ken Petts

They were all there, friends of King James VI, on that morning of 5th August, 1600. John Ramsay, John and George Murray, and John Auchmuty, resplendent in the new green coats which they had bought for the occasion, standing in a group and smiling with amiable condescension at the others who were bustling around the courtyard in nervous anticipation of the King’s arrival. The Earl of Mar and the Duke of Lennox, too, were there, strolling among the yelping hounds which had already been brought out of their kennels in preparation for the hunt.

“The King!” someone shouted suddenly. “The King has arrived.”

Everyone turned towards the main entrance of Falkland House, where James VI now stood leaning on the arm of an attendant. He was smiling, everyone noted with relief, though this was not perhaps so very surprising as the King was never so happy as when he was at Falkland, his beautiful Fifeshire palace, with its deer park and easy access to the old burgh nearby. Here, more than anywhere else, he felt free from the troubles of state.

After the normal courtesies had been obeyed with a number of his guests, the King’s horse was brought forward. It was at this point that most of the guests tactfully looked the other way. James VI suffered from a weakness of the legs and body which sometimes made him no better than a walking invalid. Although this did not stop him from riding, it did mean that it was necessary for him to be hoisted into the saddle and then lashed to his horse. It was perhaps the most dignified way for a king to prepare for the hunt, and his courtiers were therefore always careful to show a complete lack of curiosity whenever this operation was being carried out.

On this occasion, however, the procedure was interrupted by the sudden arrival on horseback of the Master of Ruthven, a man who stood high in the favour of the King. Waving aside his servant, the King beckoned him forward.

Breathlessly, Ruthven told him that he had news which surely would be of great interest to the King. While walking in Perth the previous night he had come upon a cloaked figure stealing through the streets carrying a large pot of gold coins. Challenged by Ruthven, the stranger refused to give an account of how this treasure had come into his possession, whereupon Ruthven had taken him at sword point to Gowrie House, the home of his brother, Lord Gowrie. There he had locked him in a room in an unused part of the house without even informing Gowrie of what he had done. This, Ruthven told the King, because he wished his majesty to have the gold, which had obviously been stolen anyway.

It did not seem to occur to James for a moment, that this strange and somewhat unlikely story might be a trap. All he could think about was the gold.

“The money is not mine to take,” James said. He fingered one of the silver buttons on his hunting suit. “It would not be right.”

“If you do not,” Ruthven told him. “Someone else will.”

The King nodded his head as if in agreement. “I will ride over to Perth after the hunt. In the meantime, I will think on the matter.”

The King then went off on the deer hunt which lasted until just before lunch. Arriving back at Falkland House, the King requested the Duke of Lennox and Ruthven to attend upon him.

“I wish to ride to Perth,” he told them. “I wish also for Ramsay and some dozen attendants to accompany us.” Shortly afterwards, the party cantered off to play their part in what was to become known as the Gowrie Mystery.

When the party was within a short distance of Perth, Ruthven spurred his horse forward in order that he might warn his brother of the King’s approach. When they did eventually enter the city, they were indeed met by the Earl of Gowrie, accompanied by a party of some 80 heavily armed men. A fact which caused a slightly worried frown to appear on the brow of the King. But Gowrie seemed friendly enough, and the party proceeded, chattering and laughing to Gowrie House.

There the royal party was shown into the dining room, but to the dismay of all, there was no sign of a meal waiting for them. After the King had made his displeasure obvious, a shoulder of mutton and some fowl were eventually produced. The King’s unease, which had been steadily growing, was not relieved when he noticed Gowrie whispering in a corner with some of his servants.

After he had consumed his meal, the King took Ruthven aside and demanded to see the treasure. Cautioning silence with a finger to his lips, Ruthven led him from the room to a remote part of the castle, where he unlocked the door of a room and ushered his guest into it. Inside what turned out to be a little turret chamber stood a villainous looking man with a dagger in his girdle. There was, however, no sign of any pot of gold.

Before the King could retreat from the room, Ruthven snatched the dagger from the man’s belt and held it at the King’s breast.

“Utter a sound and this dagger will find your heart,” Ruthven warned him.

“I have bestowed many favours on your family,” James said. “Is this how I am to be rewarded?” What he did not say was that he knew that the Gowries had good cause to hate him. The father of the present Gowries had been executed for treason on the order of James, a matter which had been conveniently forgotten by both sides. At least, until this moment, it seemed. The King was far from being a brave man, but he managed to keep control of himself sufficiently to make a dignified appeal to Ruthven’s better nature, promising him a full pardon if he repented of the deed he had in mind. Surprisingly, Ruthven appeared to consider the matter.

“I must discuss this with my brother,” Ruthven told the King. He turned his attention to the other man in the room. “Guard him well on penalty of your life until I return,” Ruthven then left the room, locking the door behind him.

When he returned it was to inform James that it had been decided by his brother that there was to be no going back on their original plan. The King must die.

On hearing these words, James threw himself on Ruthven – and a desperate struggle took place, during which the King managed to drag Ruthven to a window, where he succeeded in giving the alarm to some of his followers in the courtyard below. John Ramsay was the first one to find his way upstairs and into the turret chamber where the King was still struggling with Ruthven.

“Strike him low,” James called out. “He is wearing a hidden mail doublet.”

Drawing his hunting knife from its sheath, Ramsay threw himself at Ruthven and wounded him mortally in the neck. With the little help that James was able to give him, Ramsay then dragged Ruthven to the top of a winding staircase and threw him down it.

The two of them then went back to the chamber to deal with the other man who had taken no part in the struggle. But by then he was gone.

In the meantime, some of the King’s other followers, had discovered Ruthven who was trying to struggle to his feet. One of them promptly drove his sword through the dying man. They then rushed up the stairs to join the King and Ramsay. Reaching the top of the stairs they suddenly found themselves confronted by the Earl of Gowrie and several of his men who attacked them with drawn swords. The affray was a brief one. Gowrie was killed almost immediately by Ramsay, and a few minutes later those of the Earl’s men who were still on their feet, fled.

The attempt on the King’s life had ended in failure, but it was not altogether the end of the affair. An investigation into the attempted assassination was held in which the King voluntarily submitted himself to cross-examination. But because most of the story of what happened came directly from the King’s lips, many people were convinced that he had invented the story of the conspiracy to cover his own plans to exterminate the Ruthven family. Certainly his subsequent hounding of Gowrie’s two younger brothers lent some colour to the belief. After James became King James I of England, he imprisoned one of the brothers in the Tower of London for 19 years. The other, fortunately, managed to escape abroad.

It is true also that for an account of what happened in the room between James and Ruthven we must rely almost entirely on the King’s own words. Whether or not he was indeed guilty we shall never know.