But, having tried Sir Robert’s scruples, and found them somewhat stronger than he anticipated, what follows?  It might have been expected that Sir Robert’s respect for his master, if he had any, would have been diminished; that the favor of his sovereign would have been withdrawn from him; and perhaps that the tyrant, having seen an instance of the untrustworthiness of men in matters criminal and dangerous, would have learned to become a little more circumspect.  But the facts are quite otherwise.  Sir Robert continued long after in the good graces of his sovereign, always remained faithful to him, even when many others deserted him, and finally fell in battle bravely fighting in his cause.  Richard did not become more cautious, but, on the contrary, more imprudent than ever.  He complained loudly of his disappointment, even in the presence of a page.  This page is nameless in the story, but he serves to introduce to the King not less a person than Sir James Tyrell, who is represented as willing to do anything to obtain favor, and envious of the influence possessed by others.  He undertakes and executes the task which Brackenbury had refused, and for this service we are told he was knighted.  All this greatly misrepresents Sir James’ position and influence, if not his character.  He not only was a knight long before this, but had been in the preceding year created by Richard himself a knight banneret for his distinguished services during the Scotch campaign.  He had been, during Edward IV’s reign, a commissioner for executing the office of lord high constable.  He was then master of the King’s henchmen, or pages.  He was also master of the horse.  If his mere position in the world did not make him disdain to be a hired assassin, he at least did not require to be recommended through the medium of that nameless page.

Moreover, it appears that the fact of the princes having been murdered was held in great doubt for a long time afterward.  Even More himself, writing about thirty years later, is obliged to acknowledge that the thing had “so far come in question that some remained long in doubt whether they were in Richard’s days destroyed or no.”  This is certainly remarkable, when it is considered that it was of the utmost importance for Henry VII to terminate all controversy upon the question.  Yet Sir Thomas tells us that these doubts arose not only from the uncertainty men were in whether Perkin Warbeck was the true duke of York, “but for that also that all things were so covertly demeaned, one thing pretended and another meant, that there was nothing so plain and openly proved but that yet, for the common custom of close and covert dealing, men had it ever inwardly suspect.”  All this, it is urged, may very well suggest that the doubts were reasonable, and that the princes in reality were not destroyed in the days of Richard III.  And, indeed, when we consider how many persons, according to More’s account, took part in the murder or had some knowledge of it, it does appear not a little strange that there should have been any difficulty in establishing it on the clearest evidence.  For besides Tyrell, Dighton, and Forest, the chief actors, there were Brackenbury, Green the page, one Black Will, or Will Slaughter, who guarded the princes, and the priest who buried them, all fully aware of the circumstances of the crime.