ant's article in _Archives de
l'Orient Latin_, i., 617-32 (1881).

On November 16, 1272, Henry III., then in his sixty-sixth year, died at
Westminster. His remains were laid at rest in the neighbouring abbey
church, hard by the shrine of St. Edward. With him died the last of his
generation. St. Louis' death in August, 1270, has already been recorded.
The death of Clement IV. in 1268 was followed by a three years' vacancy
in the papacy. This was scarcely over when Richard, King of the Romans,
prostrated by the tragedy of Viterbo, preceded his brother to the tomb.
Still earlier, Boniface of Canterbury had ended his tenure of the chair
of St. Augustine. The new reign begins with fresh actors and fresh
motives of action.

CHAPTER VII.

THE EARLY FOREIGN POLICY AND LEGISLATION OF EDWARD I.

The Dominican chronicler, Nicholas Trivet, thus describes the
personality of Edward I.: "He was of elegant build and lofty stature,
exceeding the height of the ordinary man by a head and shoulders. His
abundant hair was yellow in childhood, black in manhood, and snowy white
in age. His brow was broad, and his features regular, save that his left
eyelid drooped somewhat, like that of his father, and hid part of the
pupil. He spoke with a stammer, which did not, however, detract from the
persuasiveness of his eloquence. His sinewy, muscular arms were those of
the consummate swordsman, and his long legs gave him a firm hold in the
saddle when riding the most spirited of steeds. His chief delight was in
war and tournaments, but he derived great pleasure from hawking and
hunting, and had a special joy in chasing down stags on a fleet horse
and slaying them with a sword instead of a hunting spear. His
disposition was magnanimous, but he was intolerant of injuries, and
reckless of dangers when seeking revenge, though easily won over by a
humble submission."[1] The defects of his youth are well brought out by
the radical friar who wrote the _Song of Lewes_. Even to the partisan of
Earl Simon, Edward was "a valiant lion, quick to attack the strongest,
and fearing the onslaught of none. But if a lion in pride and
fierceness, he was a panther in inconstancy and mutability, changing his
word and promise, cloaking himself by pleasant speech. When he is in a
strait he promises whatever you wish, but as soon as he has escaped he
forgets his promise. The treachery or falsehood, whereby he is advanced,
he calls prudence; the way whereby he