rary reconciliation was patched up between Henry III. and
the proud Earl, which was ratified at Boulogne in the presence of the
French King, St. Louis the peacemaker. These shields must therefore have
been carved here at about that time--in any case before Simon's fall; he
was killed in 1265 at the battle of Evesham. The arms of Aveline's rich
and powerful father, William de Fortibus, are in this same aisle. The
heiress herself died young, leaving no children, and her husband
inherited her vast wealth, with which he endowed the powerful house of
Lancaster. Edmund took {60} a foreign bride after Aveline's death, and
resided much with her in Provins, whence he brought the red roses which
became the Lancastrian badge. His eldest son, Thomas, the second Earl of
Lancaster, met his death on the scaffold through the machinations of
Aymer de Valence--a tragic sequel to the friendship between their
fathers, Edmund Crouchback and his uncle William de Valence, who were
brothers at arms, and had often fought side by side in the Holy Land.

A defaced painting on the ambulatory side of Edmund's tomb once showed
the figures of ten Crusaders; amongst them may have been portraits of the
uncle and his nephew; they died (1296) within a week of one another, on
an ill-fated expedition to Gascony, which ended in defeat and disaster to
the English force. All these three monuments--Aymer's is between those
of the Earl and Countess of Lancaster--repay a close study, but we can
only glance at them now. Notice the noble and dignified recumbent effigy
on Aveline's tomb, which is dressed in the simple costume of a grand dame
of the thirteenth century; it was formerly painted and gilt; some traces
of the red and white paint, also the green vine leaves, still remain
beneath the canopy. At the feet two dogs are snapping at {61} one
another in play. The two warriors are depicted in life and in death:
above each is an armed equestrian figure with visor up, while below lie
their quiet images in the sleep of death. The royal prince has a finer
monument with a triple canopy, otherwise there is little difference
between the two. The picture of Richard II. in his brilliant youth hangs
opposite his relatives. The King, whose destiny seemed so fair, but
whose tragic fate must move our pity, is here represented in the
coronation robes holding the orb and sceptre, and seated in St. Edward's
chair upon the ancient stone of Scone, which his ancestor, Edw