Dr. Lingard suggests that the pension was granted because Forest held the post for such a short time, assuming that he was one of the murderers in the story. This is certainly a very odd reason for granting a pension![[28]] Some authors have thought that it was Baynard's Castle, the residence of the Duchess of York in London, where Forest was keeper of the wardrobe. But the names in the manuscript are quite clear.
Miles Forest was a responsible old official in a royal castle, living with his wife and grown-up sons in the far north of England; where he died and his family received a pension for his long service. We are asked to believe that he was, at the same time, a notorious murderer who was also a jailer in the Tower of London, and that he died in sanctuary at St. Martin's-le-Grand.
Genesis of the story
How Forest's name got into the story concocted from the pretended confession it is not possible, at this distance of time, to surmise. But the author of it was quite unscrupulous, and the above considerations justify the conclusion that Forest's name was used without any regard for truth. There was a desire to give names and other details in order to throw an air of verisimilitude over the fable. We see the same attempt in the use of the name of Dighton. He was not Tyrrel's horse-keeper, nor probably the actual murderer, but a different person, as will be seen presently. But there was a John Dighton living at Calais when the story was made up, who was known to be connected, in some mysterious way, with the disappearance of the princes. So the author of the story hit upon his name to do duty as a strong square knave who did the deed. The name of Forest was doubtless adopted owing to some similar chance. The name of neither Deighton nor Forest occurs in the authorised version as given by Polydore Virgil.
Henry at first only accused Tyrrel of the murders; but it seems likely that he subsequently put forward some further details. There is an indication of the Green episode in Polydore Virgil. It is therefore probable that it was sanctioned by Henry's authority, as well as the details respecting the interment of the bodies. All the rest about Dighton and Forest, and the mode in which their crime was committed, is an impudent fabrication, as regards Richard, based upon the authorised story which is given by Polydore Virgil. The Italian was supplied with the statement sanctioned by Henry, and he distinctly tells us that the mode of death was not divulged.
If the mode of death was not divulged, the alleged confession of Tyrrel and Dighton cannot have taken place. For this is the very thing they would have confessed.
There remains a circumstantial story which may really have been connected with a secret tragedy. It has a very suspicious look of having been parodied out of something which actually happened. It is unlikely to have been pure invention. The fear of detection must have been always haunting Henry's mind. He would be tortured with the apprehension that the vague rumours he had set afloat against Richard were not believed; and this would be an inducement to promulgate a more detailed and circumstantial story. He could not and dared not accuse Tyrrel while he was alive, for a reason which will appear directly, but as soon as he was dead it would be safe to do so. At the time when he got rid of Tyrrel his son Arthur had just died. The man's mind would be filled with fear of retributive justice. Then the terror of detection would increase upon him. He would long to throw off suspicion from himself, by something more decisive than vague rumour. The notion of imputing his own crime, in its real details, to his predecessor, is quite in keeping with the workings of a subtle and ingenious mind such as we know Henry's to have been. Hence, Tyrrel, Green, Dighton, Black Will, may have been the accomplices of Henry VII., not of Richard III. As soon as Tyrrel was disposed of, the circumstantial story might be divulged as his confession, merely substituting the name of Richard for that of Henry, and the name of Brackenbury for that of Daubeney.[[29]]
Murder of the princes
With this clue to guide us, let us see what light can still be thrown on the dark question of the murders. Sir James Tyrrel of Gipping had been a knight of some distinction. He had been on a commission for exercising the office of Lord High Constable under Edward IV. He had been Master of the Horse and was created a Knight Banneret at Berwick siege. King Richard made him Master of the Henchmen and conferred many favours on him. But he was not one of the good men and true who stood by their sovereign to the end. His name drops out of history during those last anxious months before Bosworth. He was no doubt a trimmer. But he could not escape the consequences of his long service under the Yorkist kings. Henry Tudor deprived him of his Chamberlainship of the Exchequer, and of his Constableship of Newport, in order to bestow those appointments on his own friends.[[30]] Tyrrel had to wait patiently in the cold shade. But he was ambitious, unscrupulous, and ready to do a great deal for the sake of the new King's favour. Here was a ready instrument for such a man as Henry Tudor.
The die had been cast. The usurper had married Elizabeth of York and entered upon the year 1486. There was a dark deed which must be done. Henry set out on a progress to York, leaving London in the middle of March. On the 11th of the same month, John Green received from the new King a grant of a third of the manor of Benyngton in Hertfordshire.[[31]] For this favour Green had, no doubt, to perform some secret service which, if satisfactorily executed, would be more fully rewarded. This grant was a small retaining fee. We know from the story what that service was. We also know from the story that Green did not succeed. Henry VII. returned from his progress in June, only to find that Green had failed him in his need. Then Henry (not Richard) may well have exclaimed 'Who shall I trust to do my bidding?' '"Sir," quoth a secret councillor'[[32]] (called a page in the story), '"there waiteth without one who I dare well say will do your Grace's pleasure." So Tyrrel was taken into favour, and undertook to perform Henry's work with the understanding that he was to receive a sufficient reward. He became a knight of the King's body.[[33]] On June 16, 1486, Sir James Tyrrel late of Gipping received a general pardon.[[34]] There is nothing extraordinary in this. It was an ordinary practice, in those days, to grant general pardons on various occasions. But it marks the date when Henry found 'one without' who was ready to do his pleasure. Tyrrel, as the story tells us, was given a warrant to the Lieutenant of the Tower, conferring on him the needful powers. The murders were then committed, as the story informs us, by William Slaughter or Slater, called 'Black Will,' with the aid of John Dighton. Slater was, no doubt, the jailer. Master Dighton, however, was not Tyrrel's groom. A John Dighton was a priest, and possibly a chaplain in the Tower. He may have been only an accessory after the fact, in connexion with the interments. The bodies, as we are told in the story, were buried at the stair foot, 'metely deep in the ground'; where they were discovered in July 1674,[[35]] 188 years afterwards. The tale about their removal,[[36]] and the death of the priest, was no doubt inserted by Henry, to prevent that discovery. On July 16, 1486, Sir James Tyrrel received a second general pardon.[[37]] This would be very singular under ordinary circumstances, the second pardon having been granted within a month of the first. But it is not so singular when we reflect on what probably took place in the interval. There was an offence to be condoned which must be kept a profound secret. Thus we are able to fix the time of the murder of the two young princes between June 16 and July 16, 1486. One was fifteen and a half, the other twelve years of age.