In "The Three Edwards," Thomas B. Costain continues his history of England since the Norman Conquest (The Pageant of England: "The Conquerors," "The Magnificent Century") The volume deals with a turbulent reach of human experience, stretching from the thirteenth century of iron-fisted Edward I, law-giver and conqueror, when French was still the language of law-court and great hall, to the restless unhappy close of the reign of Edward III….

To a popular historian like Mr. Costain, the period offers a wonderful story and barbed personalities: the romantic struggles of Wallace and Robert the Bruce, the inept life and horrible death of Edward II, the victories of Crécy and Poitiers, the visitation of the Black Death; and, beneath this brave outward show, the tides of social and intellectual change.

With such material, which Mr. Costain develops with an eye to entertaining fact, "The Three Edwards" will doubtless please numerous readers.

This is not to say, however, that Mr. Costain lives up to his opportunities. The trouble with "The Three Edwards" is that it is not popular enough, if "popular history" is to be identified with good yarn-spinning, deft characterization, and a technicolored setting of the scene. Instead of trying to convey a sense of the times, Mr. Costain tends to write of medieval men and women as if they were playing out domestic scenes in a small American town. His over-neighborly style gossips away much of the genuine excitement of his subject. We are given a running commentary on his materials rather than an imaginative deployment of them.

Mr. Costain's language is at times flat or inept with verbal infelicities that are a by-product of a style that can be relentlessly cozy….

But the main weakness of "The Three Edwards" is perhaps a symptom of the times rather than a fault of Mr. Costain. A reader who, under the spell of TV quiz programs, is avid for facts, will be delighted with this book. Mr. Costain is never so in the grip of his story that he will not turn aside from it to give the derivation of a word, mention a quaint custom, or summarize the marital histories of forgotten princesses….

Furthermore, there seems to be no controlling purpose which determines the relative importance of these facts. Even the Black Death is little more than just another item, its vast and poignant consequences muffled in perfunctory comment. Instead of seeing a picture of the past unfolding before our eyes, we hear the snap of file cards as one by one they unload their burden of information. And the information is not always to be trusted.

In the introduction to "The Conquerors," Mr. Costain writes "… there is no need for another history of England unless it can be given popular appeal." But history cannot be given popular appeal, certainly not by chopping it down to suburban size. On the contrary, the popular appeal of history must be vigorously elicited—and Mr. Costain would have been the man to do it, if only his imagination had been fired by his materials.