to the murder was generally known.  Before that date, indeed, the world seems to have had no conception in what manner the crime was committed, and the common story seems to have been that Richard had put his nephews to the sword; but the confession of Tyrell at once put an end to this surmise, and we hear of it no longer.  Henry VII assuredly did not for a long time treat him as a criminal; for not only did he hold under Henry the office of captain of Guisnes, but he was employed by the King in an expedition against Flanders.  Nay, even after Warbeck had been taken and confessed his imposture, Tyrell was employed on an important embassy to Maximilian, King of the Romans.  It is quite clear, therefore, that he was never questioned about the murder in consequence of Warbeck’s pretensions.  But being afterward condemned to death on a charge of treason—­not an unknown charge, as Walpole imagines, but a charge of having treasonably aided the escape of the Earl of Suffolk—­he was then, as More says, examined about it in the Tower, having probably made a voluntary confession of guilt to ease his conscience before his execution.

No doubt, after all, the murder rests upon the testimony of only a very few original authorities, but this is simply owing to the scantiness of contemporary historians.  It is true, also, that of these there are two who only mention it as a report; but it must be observed that neither of them expresses the smallest doubt of its truth, and one of them more than hints that he believes it as a fact.  How, indeed, could there possibly be two opinions about a rumor of this kind, seeing that it was never contradicted by the King himself?  Assuredly from this time the conduct both of Richard and his enemies was distinctly governed by the belief that his nephews were no longer alive.

Moreover, the truth of the story seems to be corroborated by a discovery which took place in the reign of Charles II.  In the process of altering the staircase leading to the chapel in the White Tower, the skeletons of two young lads, whose apparent ages agreed with those of the unfortunate princes, were found buried under a heap of stones.  Their place of sepulture corresponded with the situation mentioned in the confession of the murderers, so that the report alluded to by More of the removal of the bodies seems to have been a mistake.  The antiquaries of the day had no doubt they were the remains of young Edward V and his brother, and King Charles caused them to be fittingly interred in Henry VII’s chapel at Westminster.  A Latin inscription marks the spot and tells of the discovery.

We have no doubt, therefore, that the dreadful deed was done.  It was done, indeed, in profound secrecy; the fact, I suspect, remained some little time unknown; and for years after there was no certainty as to the way it was performed.  Years elapsed even before the world suspected the foul blot upon Tyrell’s knighthood, and he enjoyed the favor both of Richard and of his successor; but at last the truth came out.