my death now approaching, I cannot choose but, out of the
love I bear you, advise you of your soul's health, which you ought to
prefer before all considerations of the world or flesh whatsoever; for
which yet you have cast me into many calamities, and yourself into many
troubles. But I forgive you all, and pray God to do so likewise. For the
rest I commend unto you Mary our daughter, beseeching you to be a good
father to her, as I have heretofore desired. I must entreat you also to
respect my maids, and give them in marriage, which is not much, they
being but three; and to all my other servants a year's pay besides their
due, lest otherwise they should be unprovided for. Lastly, I make this
vow, that mine eyes desire you above all things. Farewell."[541]

This letter reached Henry with the intimation that she was gone. He was
much affected, and is said to have shed tears.[542]

[Sidenote: She is buried at Peterborough, and the See of Peterborough is
founded as a memorial of her.]

The court was ordered into mourning--a command which Anne Boleyn
distinguished herself by imperfectly obeying.[543] Catherine was buried
at Peterborough, with the estate of Princess Royal;[544] and shortly
after, on the foundation of the new bishoprics, the See of Peterborough
was established in her memory. We may welcome, however late, these acts
of tardy respect.[545] Henry, in the few last years, had grown wiser in
the ways of women; and had learnt to prize more deeply the austerity of
virtue, even in its unloveliest aspect.

[Sidenote: Fall of Anne Boleyn.]

The death of Catherine was followed, four months later, by the tragedy
which I have now to relate. The ground on which I am about to tread is
so critical, and the issues at stake affect so deeply the honour of many
of our most eminent English statesmen, that I must be pardoned if I
cannot here step boldly out with a flowing narrative, but must pick my
way slowly as I can: and I, on my part, must ask my readers to move
slowly also, and be content to allow their judgment, for a few pages, to
remain in suspense.

And first, I have to say that, as with all the great events of Henry's
reign, so especially with this, we must trust to no evidence which is
not strictly contemporary. During periods of revolution, years do the
work of centuries in colouring actions and disturbing forms; and events
are transferred swiftly from the deliberation of the judgment to the
precipitate arrogance of