Chapter XXII: Sir Ralph Winwood Dines Out ND now we leave the romantic atmosphere of the Courts of Princes for the dull surroundings of the Courts of Law. Somerset's obstinacy made it impossible for him to remain at the Court of James, and in some way or other he had to be destroyed. It is only fair to the King to say that he tried hard to bring his old favourite to efface himself without a scandal, but Somerset was stubborn in defence of his position and wholly misjudged the strength of it. The good Abbot, too, appealed to his " very loving son,' Sir George Villiers, to be courteous and amenable to his rival, and at his suggestion the King sent him to the Earl of Somerset to make advances of peace and reconciliation. His Majesty went a progress in the southwest that summer, staying at Lulworth and Purbeck, and honoured Sir George's mother with a visit to her jointure house called Golty, where he was splendidly entertained. It was from here that Sir Humphrey May, the Groom of the King's Privy Chamber, who had great tact in delicate tasks, was sent to London with young George on a mission of peace. He had carefully rehearsed Villiers in what he was to say, and then he called upon Somerset and explained that the King had commanded Sir George Villiers to wait on the Earl and humbly desire to be his servant and creature, and that His Majesty expected that the Earl would embrace him and take him in to favour. If this were done, Sir Humphrey intimated that the Earl of Somerset could still remain a great man at the Court, though not the sole favourite. The Earl heard this with glum disapproval, pulled his beard thoughtfully, and announced that he would see Sir George at once. Within half an hour of May's leaving him Sir George arrived. The young man entered, spruce and smiling. Somerset received him with formal politeness. Sir George spoke his piece, which he had by rote, rapidly and clearly, but with no accent of humility or sincerity in the tones of his voice. 'My lord, I desire to be your servant, and your creature, and shall desire you to take my Court preferment under your favour, and your lordship shall find me as faithful a servant unto you as ever did serve you.' He stopped suddenly in his recitation, and the Earl, who was fuming with passion at the studied impudence of the fellow, made a short, quick answer without thought of consequences. you "I will none of your service, nor shall have any of my favour. I will, if I can, break your neck, and of that be confident." At this Sir George rose and bowed, treating scorn with scorn, and passed out of his house, nor did they ever meet again. And when Frances heard how the youth had been treated she rejoiced and applauded, so little did either understand that the words the Earl had spoken had doomed them both to ruin. For had he received this splendid suppliant with outward courtesy, then, as an old writer wisely tells us, " Overbury's death had still been raked up in his own ashes." The Queen and the Archbishop were continually pressing James to dismiss Somerset. Villiers was playing the pretty boy learning to ride and dress himself beautifully, as Carr had done but a few years ago. The King, after his manner, was temporising; exercising his kingcraft to do what pleased him at the moment with the least worry and annoyance to himself. Could he have persuaded Somerset to recognise Villiers and play a second fiddle to him in the Court orchestra all had been well. But Somerset was choked with pride and obstinacy, and, though he would no longer pander to the King's follies, was trying to hold his place through force and the royal fears. 66 The King writes many letters finding fault of his illbehaviour and complains that "your fiery boutades were coupled with a continual dogged sullen behaviour," and again: "You have many times uttered a kind of distrust of the honesty of my friendship towards you." And then in a long screed he comments thus on the final iniquity of his servant : Fourthly, which is worst of all, and worse than any other thing that can be imagined, you have in many of your mad fits, done what you can to persuade me that you mean not so much to hold me by love as by awe, and that you have me so far in your reverence as that I dare not offend you or resist your appetites. I leave out of this reckoning your long creeping back and withdrawing yourself from lying in my chamber, notwithstanding my many hundred times earnestly soliciting you to the contrary, accounting that but as a point of unkindness." The letter appears to have been written shortly before the King's return to Theobalds. That he had a real affection for Somerset and did not want to destroy him, and that he was in terror and fear of the man who knew his inmost secrets, seem the two truths lying beneath the long appeals and threats in the King's letters. Pitiful indeed are his prayers to Somerset for a few words of kindness and consideration. "God is my judge," he cries, "my love hath been infinite towards you; and only the strength of my affection toward you hath made me bear with these things in you and bridle my passions to the utmost of my ability. Let me be met then with your entire heart but softened by humility." But at the end of his long epistle he warns him of the danger of frowardness towards God's anointed: "Thus I have set down unto you what I would say if I were to make my testament; it lies in your hands to make of |