strength to sustain his assertion. But not to be
altogether unthankful to him for so useful a confession, they showed him
the favor of not executing him with the axe, but the more agreeable and
easier death of hanging was vouchsafed to him.[Footnote: Burnet, vol. i,
p. 205.]

"So the fair and lovely Anne Boleyn must lay her head upon the block.
The day on which this took place, the king had ordered a great hunt, and
early that morning we rode out to Epping Forest. The king was at first
unusually cheerful and humorous, and he commanded me to ride near him,
and tell him something from the chronique scandaleuse of our court. He
laughed at my spiteful remarks, and the worse I calumniated, the merrier
was the king. Finally, we halted; the king had talked and laughed so
much that he had at last become hungry. So he encamped under an oak,
and, in the midst of his suite and his dogs, he took a breakfast, which
pleased him very much, although he had now become a little quieter
and more silent, and sometimes turned his face toward the direction of
London with visible restlessness and anxiety. But suddenly was heard
from that direction the dull sound of a cannon. We all knew that this
was the signal which was to make known to the king that Anne Boleyn's
head had fallen. We knew it, and a shudder ran through our whole frames.
The king alone smiled, and as he arose and took his weapon from my hand,
he said, with cheerful face, 'It is done, the business is finished.
Unleash the dogs, and let us follow the boar.' [Footnote: The king's
very words. Tytler, p. 383. The oak under which this took place is
still pointed out in Epping Forest, and in fact is not less remarkable
as the oak of Charles II.]

"That," said Lord Douglas, sadly, "that was King Henry's funeral
discourse over his charming and innocent wife."

"Do you regret her, my father?" asked Lady Jane, with surprise. "But
Anne Boleyn was, it seems to me, an enemy of our Church, and an adherent
of the accursed new doctrine."

Her father shrugged his shoulders almost contemptuously. That did not
prevent Lady Anne from being one of the fairest and loveliest women of
Old England. And, besides, much as she inclined to the new doctrine,
she did us essential good service, for she it was who bore the blame
of Thomas More's death. Since he had not approved her marriage with the
king, she hated him, as the king hated him because he would not take the
oath of supremacy. Henry, however,