Anne had persisted to the last, in the declaration of her innocence; but the often quoted letter, supposed to have been written by her to Henry from the Tower, and which Burnet printed[167] as authentic, because he had found it among Cromwell’s papers, must now be considered spurious. That it should ever have been regarded as genuine, is among the unaccountable beliefs that have obtained concerning this much misrepresented woman. It proclaims itself a forgery by the style of its composition and mode of expression, entirely unlike any of Anne’s recognised and undisputed letters. The speeches also imputed to her before her execution must be taken with extreme caution, the opportunity being favourable to romance writers of every subsequent period, to invent sentiments which neither would nor could have been uttered or recorded, so great was the terror in which Henry was held by ministers, judges, courtiers, and the people. On the other hand, doubt has been thrown on the authenticity of words and actions which, viewed with their context, are, to say the least, highly probable. Thus Mr. Friedmann, the able biographer of Anne Boleyn, while he admits that the one thing that preyed on her mind was her conduct towards the Princess, discredits the story of her having thrown herself at the feet of Lady Kingston, wife of the Lieutenant of the Tower, entreating her as a favour in like manner to throw herself at the feet of the Lady Mary, and in her name beseech her to forgive the many wrongs she had brought upon her.[168] But there is evidence in a letter from Mary to Cromwell, dated 26th May 1536, that Lady Kingston was then present with her, and it is unlikely that she would have been sent to announce Anne’s death, unless she had some special message to deliver. In this letter, as if in response to Anne’s petition for pardon, Mary in mentioning her fallen enemy adds, “whom I pray our Lord of His great mercy to forgive”.[169] Moreover, Chapuys told Cardinal Granvelle, that on her way to the scaffold, “the Concubine declared that she did not consider herself condemned by divine judgment, except for being the cause of the ill-treatment of the Princess, and for having conspired her death”.[170] Although Henry took no pains to conceal the satisfaction he felt at his deliverance from Anne, he chose to pretend that he was heart-broken at her wickedness, and Cranmer, whose safety depended on a servile acquiescence in his master’s every whim, begged him “somewhat to suppress the deep sorrows of his Grace’s heart, and do violence to himself, by accepting with patience and cheerfulness the decrees of Providence”.[171] In truth, not Henry alone, but the whole nation breathed more freely, and the horror inspired by the injustice of Anne’s trial cannot be said to have extended to any feeling of regret for her untimely end. On the day of her execution, Chapuys, keenly observant of all that went on at court, and of its effect upon the nation, wrote:—