ed and lapped in lead, "by the candlemaker of
the house, a servant and one companion," not even the Queen's physician
was allowed to be present. But the despised "candlemaker," who really
seems to have been a skilled embalmer, secretly told the Bishop of
Llandaff, who waited at the door, that all the body was sound "except the
heart, which was black and hideous," with a black excrescence "which clung
closely to the outside"; on which report Dr. De la Sa unhesitatingly
opined that his mistress had died of poison.[137]

The news, the joyous news, sped quickly to Greenwich; and within
four-and-twenty hours, on Saturday, 9th January, Henry heard with
exultation that the incubus was raised from his shoulders. "God be
praised," was his first exclamation, "we are free from all suspicion of
war." Now, he continued, he would be able to manage the French better.
They would be obliged to dance to his tune, for fear he should join the
Emperor, which would be easy now that the cause for disagreement had gone.
Thus, heartlessly, and haggling meanly over his wife's little bequests,
even that to her daughter, Henry greeted the death of the woman he once
had seemed to love. He snivelled a little when he read the affecting
letter to him that she had dictated in her last hour;[138] but the word
went forth that on the next day, Sunday, the Court should be at its
gayest; and Henry and Anne, in gala garb of yellow finery, went to Mass
with their child in full state to the sound of trumpets. After dinner the
King could not restrain his joy even within the bounds of decency.
Entering the hall in which the ladies were dancing, he pirouetted about in
the exuberance of his heart, and then, calling for his fair little
daughter Elizabeth, he proudly carried her in his arms from one courtier
to another to be petted and praised. There was only one drop of gall in
the cup for the Boleyns, and they made no secret of it, namely, that the
Princess Mary had not gone to accompany her mother. If Anne had only known
it, her last chance of keeping at the King's side as his wife was the
survival of Katharine; and lamentation instead of rejoicing should have
been her greeting of the news of her rival's death. Henry, in fact, was
tired of Anne already, and the cabal of nobles against her and the
religious system she represented was stronger than ever; but the
repudiation of his second wife on any excuse during the life of the first
would have necessitated the ret