‘King John sealing the Magna Carta’ by Ernest Normand, on display in London’s Royal Exchange, represents the classic myth of ‘bad’ King John, the ‘upright’ barons and Magna Carta as the ‘birth of democracy’.
The gatehouse of Ramsey Abbey in the fens of eastern England, turned into a fort by the bandit baron Geoffrey de Mandeville. From the top of this building, during the anarchy of the mid-twelfth century, de Mandeville’s men could see an enemy approaching 10 miles away.
The ruins of Clarendon Palace, near Salisbury in Wiltshire. Here, the end wall of the great hall where in 1166 Henry II set out a reformed system of royal justice.
The port of Acre in northern Israel. In the twelfth century it was infamous for its street violence and sexual immorality. In 1191, it was also the scene of King Richard the Lion Heart’s finest hour during the Third Crusade.
From the ramparts of old Angoulême, looking down on the modern city. In the thirteenth century, Angoulême controlled all surrounding roads. John’s marriage here to Isabella in 1200 gave him a strategic advantage in the region, but also created enemies who years later would help destroy him.
Eleanor of Aquitaine’s tomb at Fontevraud Abbey in France, alongside her second husband, King Henry II of England. Eleanor three times came out of retirement at Fontevraud to go to the aid of her son John. He in turn rescued his 80-year-old mother when she was besieged at Mirebeau. (© George H. Reader, reproduced by kind permission)
Château Gaillard was built by Richard the Lionheart to defend Normandy against the French king. When it fell in 1204, Richard’s successor John lost Normandy, which had been tied to the English crown since 1066.
The view down from Château Gaillard’s inner ward to the River Seine and the town of Les Andelys. In King John’s day, the island was the mid-point of a bridge. The French forces stormed across it at the second attempt.
View of Château Gaillard from its southern tip. On the left are the remains of the chapel, added to the castle by King John. During the siege in 1204 the French ‘special ops’ team led by Bogis crawled up a waste gulley and entered the castle through one of the chapel’s windows.
The mountainous borderlands of South Wales, known as the Marches. This beautiful area was the heart of territories controlled by William de Briouze, the baron who John first rewarded, then turned against and crushed.
The view from the White Castle towards the Brecon Beacon mountains. The White Castle was one of three forts that controlled the approach to the South Wales Marches. With marcher lord William de Briouze out of the way, John put his mercenary captains in charge here.
At the village of Laxton in Nottinghamshire, elected jurymen hammer in stakes to mark the boundary between two farmers’ strips of land. The medieval open field system, still followed at Laxton today, was already 200 years old by the time King John came here. (Photo: Joy Allison, © Laxton History Group, reproduced by kind permission)
King John hunting, from a fourteenth-century illuminated manuscript. The monk who painted it had a sense of humour. The king’s horse has a delighted smile on its face. The rabbits don’t seem to know if they’re coming or going. John, like most medieval monarchs, loved the chase, and one of the attractions of Laxton for him was that it was in good hunting country.
Steep Hill in the old city of Lincoln. In the Middle Ages this was the heart of the commercial quarter. Cities and towns like Lincoln gained a remarkable level of freedom, usually by buying a charter from the king. They sided with the barons in John’s reign, and as a reward had their privileges confirmed in Magna Carta.
The Jew’s House, Lincoln. This is the oldest small domestic building still occupied in Europe, pre-dating King John by at least fifty years. Jews in towns like Lincoln were outcasts and subject to persecution, but performed a valuable role as moneylenders to all from kings to candlemakers.
Warfare at sea, from a thirteenth-century illustration. King John spent part of his resources building a navy. In 1213, at the Battle of Damme, the French were beaten and England won its first sea victory.
The church at Bouvines in northern France. Its twenty-one stained-glass windows depict the 1214 battle which decided the fate of three empires.
The old Roman road leading east from Bouvines village. During the battle here in 1214, the opposing armies both straddled the ancient road. This would have been the view (without the power cables) for King Philip Augustus in the middle of the French front line.
Stained-glass window in Bouvines church showing King Philip Augustus of France knocked from his horse. The blue and yellow of the king’s surcoat merges with his steed’s ‘caparison’, the horse’s coat in its rider’s colours. The violence and confusion of battle are startlingly captured in the vigour of the design.
The memorial to Magna Carta on the side of Cooper’s Hill overlooking the meadow at Runnymede. It was paid for by 9,000 American lawyers and erected in 1957. The exact site of the Great Charter’s birth is probably a mile or more to the east of here.
The British Library – where two of the original 1215 Magna Cartas are kept – on London’s Euston Road with the Victorian wizardry of St Pancras railway station popping up behind.
The better preserved of the two original copies of Magna Carta held in the British Library. The text was written in abbreviated Latin and was not divided up into clauses; that was done later by historians. The ink was a mix of soot and oak gall, a natural acid that etched the writing into the parchment.
The vast mudflats of the Wash on the east coast of England at low tide. It is easy to see how in 1216 King John’s baggage train, on a foggy morning and without a local guide, could get lost in terrain like this. The heavily laden packhorses and carts soon sank and the men attempting a rescue were sucked down with them.
Worcester Cathedral. The mortal remains of King John – the man the Victorians thought so vile that he would even befoul hell – lie beneath the tomb in the foreground, in hallowed position before the altar steps.
The Court of the King’s Bench in Westminster Hall around 1460. Beneath the five judges in their scarlet robes, the record-keepers are getting through the parchment. The accused in the middle – you can almost see his knees trembling – stands between the advocates, one in green, one in blue. In the foreground, a dissolute bunch of manacled prisoners await their turn. The bar that two of them are leaning on gave its name to barristers.
Ranger Jerome Bridges making a dramatic point about the tribulations suffered by the first settlers at Jamestown, Virginia.
The Susan Constant, an exact replica of one of the three vessels that arrived in the James River estuary in 1607 bringing the first Englishmen to make a permanent settlement in America.
The central hall of the US National Archives building, known as the Rotunda for the Charters of Freedom, in Washington DC. It houses the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. The reverential way in which they are displayed reflects the American tradition of trusting in the written word to protect their liberties. Magna Carta is regarded in the US as the bedrock of justice and freedom. (Photo courtesy of US National Archive)
Both the state flag and state seal of Virginia show the figure of Virtue stepping on the breast of Tyranny. Being alert to the threat of tyranny is a constant theme in American political life. Magna Carta is seen as the most ancient safeguard. (Library of Congress)