Besides this racketeering, John also earned a reputation as vindictive and even murderous. It was believed that in he killed his nephew and rival, Arthur of Brittany. William died in exile in France. Then there was the Church. The king claimed the right to approve the appointment; so did the pope. A bitter standoff ensued. Innocent first placed England under interdict—a sentence banning all church services. Later he personally excommunicated John. It took six years to resolve this power struggle, during which time John seized Church lands and property and confiscated the vast revenues of his bishops, most of whom fled the country.
This made John rich but earned him the lasting hatred of almost everyone connected with the Church. Fatally for his reputation, that included the monastic chroniclers who would write most of the contemporary histories of the reign. In Pope Innocent, tired of being ignored, asked the king of France to invade England and depose the faithless king. Finally, John backed down and reconciled with Rome. Later he even promised probably in bad faith to lead a new crusade to Jerusalem.
But his abrasive methods had earned him the undying hatred of a large group of English barons, particularly in the north of the realm. In they had their chance to strike. John gambled all of his ill-gotten wealth on a military campaign to win back Normandy. It failed spectacularly when his allies were crushed by the French at the Battle of Bouvines on July 27, John returned home that autumn to find rebellion brewing. Insurgents were demanding that the king produce a charter promising to mend his ways, to stop abusing Church and aristocracy, and to govern in accordance with his own law, which they should help make.
If he failed to do so, they would depose him and invite a new king to take his place. These rebels, calling themselves the Army of God, finally took up arms in the spring of and seized control of London. The agreement followed lengthy discussions mediated by the archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton.
When it was written down it came to about 4, words, now conventionally divided into 63 clauses. They covered a wide range of issues. The king conceded that the English church would be free from government interference, as would the City of London. He promised to cap military taxes and the fines he levied on his barons for inheritance and marriage.
He dealt with scores of other issues, large and small. John promised to eject foreign mercenaries from England, and he promised to remove the fish traps that obstructed rivers near London and blighted water transport. To no one will we sell, to no one will we deny or delay right or justice. News of this extraordinary charter traveled fast.
For the body longed to govern the head, And the people wished to rule the king. Royal scribes made at least 13 copies, and perhaps as many as He never signed Magna Carta.
They were then distributed around England, probably via the bishops, who stored them in their cathedrals. Today, only four survive. One morning in early February this year I took a taxi to the British Library in London to meet the curator of medieval manuscripts, Claire Breay. TV crews were set up, ready for live broadcasts. We were there to witness a unique event.
It was the first time in years that the four pieces of parchment had been in the same room. The next day 1, people, selected by lottery, came to the library to see them. Later in the week the charters were taken to the Houses of Parliament. Then they were returned to their permanent homes: Two are kept in the British Library, one is owned by Lincoln Cathedral and displayed at the nearby castle, and one belongs to Salisbury Cathedral. Few men have been less mourned, few legal documents more adored.
Magna Carta has been taken as foundational to the rule of law, chiefly because in it King John promised that he would stop throwing people into dungeons whenever he wished, a provision that lies behind what is now known as due process of law and is understood not as a promise made by a king but as a right possessed by the people.
Much of the rest of Magna Carta, weathered by time and for centuries forgotten, has long since crumbled, an abandoned castle, a romantic ruin. Magna Carta is written in Latin. The King and the barons spoke French. The peasants, who were illiterate, spoke English.
It also has a very different legacy in the United States than it does in the United Kingdom, where only four of its original sixty-some provisions are still on the books. Much has been written of the rule of law, less of the rule of history.
There are Magna Carta exhibits at the British Library, in London, at the National Archives, in Washington, and at other museums, too, where medieval manuscript Magna Cartas written in Latin are displayed behind thick glass, like tropical fish or crown jewels. There is also, of course, swag. Much of it makes a fetish of ink and parchment, the written word as relic. The reign of King John could not have been foreseen in , when Henry II divided his lands among his surviving older sons: to Henry, his namesake and heir, he gave England, Normandy, and Anjou; to Richard, Aquitaine; to Geoffrey, Brittany.
To his youngest son, he gave only a name: Lackland. Meanwhile, the sons of Henry II were toppled, one by one. John became a knight and went on an expedition in Ireland.
Some of his troops deserted him. He acquired a new name: John Softsword. After his brother Geoffrey died, in , John allied with Richard against their father. In , John married his cousin Isabella of Gloucester.
When she had no children, he had their marriage ended, locked her in his castle, and then sold her. Upon the death of Henry II, Richard, the lionhearted, became king, went on crusade, and was thrown into prison in Germany on his way home, whereupon John, allying with Philip Augustus of France, attempted a rebellion against him, but Richard both fended it off and forgave him. John was almost thirty. Many times he went to battle. He lost more castles than he gained.
He lost Anjou, and much of Aquitaine. He lost Normandy. Bearing that in mind, he is nevertheless known to have levied steep taxes, higher than any king ever had before, and to have carried so much coin outside his realm and then kept so much coin in his castle treasuries that it was difficult for anyone to pay him with money.
When his noblemen fell into his debt, he took their sons hostage. He had a noblewoman and her son starved to death in a dungeon.
It is said that he had one of his clerks crushed to death, on suspicion of disloyalty. He opposed the election of the new Archbishop of Canterbury.
For this, he was eventually excommunicated by the Pope. He began planning to retake Normandy only to face a rebellion in Wales and invasion from France.
Cannily, he surrendered England and Ireland to the Pope, by way of regaining his favor, and then pledged to go on crusade, for the same reason. For his part, John reneged on the most crucial section of the document, now known as Clause 61, as soon as the barons left London. The clause stated that an established committee of barons had the ability to overthrow the king should he defy the charter at any time.
So as a means of promoting peace the Magna Carta was a failure, legally binding for only three months. This version of the charter was edited to include 42 rather than 61 clauses, with clause 61 being notably absent. It was during the Tudor period however, that the Magna Carta lost its place as a central part of English politics. It was not until the English Civil War that the Magna Carter shook off its less than successful origins and began to represent a symbol of liberty for those aspiring to a new life, becoming a major influence on the Constitution of the United States of America and the Bill of Rights, and much later the former British dominions of Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the former Union of South Africa and Southern Rhodesia now Zimbabwe.
However, by all but three of the clauses in the Magna Carta had been removed from the law of England and Wales.
0コメント