he screen, is the tomb of his half-brother, that William de
Valence to whom we referred in connection with his own son Aymer and
Henry's son, Edmund Crouchback. De Valence was a Frenchman, and not only
as a foreigner, but from his haughty overbearing character, was very
unpopular in England. Yet his friend and cousin Edward I., unheeding the
popular voice, caused this beautiful and costly tomb to be made for his
remains. It was originally covered with that rare and excellent enamel
work which was then made at Limoges in De Valence's native province, but
only a few fragments, notably on the shield, the {65} pillow, and the
girdle, remain intact. Formerly, besides the enamel and filigree
decorations, there were no less than 31 gilt images of mourners, each
with an enamelled coat of arms above it, in the shallow arcades round the
tomb. Practically nothing is left of all this splendour, and the wooden
chest which contained the body, for it was the custom to bury the dead
above ground in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, is stripped bare
of ornament. On the other side of the entrance lies a royal Prince of
English birth, John of Eltham, the second son of Edward II., and thus
grandson to Henry III. To the student of armour the alabaster effigy is
of special interest as a specimen of the military costume of the
fourteenth century; while the coronet is the earliest known example of
ducal form--the title of Duke was not introduced into England till rather
later. The small crowned images of royal personages, John's relations,
round the base of the altar tomb are all mutilated, while the triple
canopy has long disappeared, broken down by the pressure of the crowds
which used to throng into the church at all large funerals in the
eighteenth century. John was only nineteen at the time of his death, but
had already won his spurs at the battle of Halidon Hill, and was {66} so
trusted by his incapable father that in spite of his youth he was given
the command of the whole English army in Scotland. On a small altar tomb
close to that of John of Eltham are two tiny alabaster images, twenty
inches long, in the stiff costume of the period; these represent his
nephew and niece, William of Windsor and Blanche of the Tower, infant
children of Edward III. In the centre of the floor are two admirable
fourteenth-century brasses, which have fortunately escaped the
despoiler's hand. The one commemorates the Black Prince's friend,