KING JOHN AND THE MAGNA CARTA
 KING JOHN was so selfish and cruel that all the people
in his kingdom both feared and hated him.
One by one he lost the dominions in France which the
former kings of England had held. Men called him
Lackland, because in the end he had neither lands nor
castles that he could rightfully call his own.
He robbed his people. He quarreled with his knights and
barons. He offended all good men. He formed a plan for
making war against King Philip of France, and called
upon his barons to join him. When some of them refused,
he burned their castles and destroyed their fields.
At last the barons met together at a place called St.
Edmundsbury to talk about their grievances. "Why should
we submit to be ruled by such a king?" said some of the
boldest. But most of them were afraid to speak their
Stephen Langton, the Archbishop of Canterbury, was with
them, and there was no bolder friend of liberty than
he. He made a stirring speech that gave courage even to
the most cowardly.
 "Are you men?" he said. "Why then do you submit to this
false-hearted king? Stand up and declare your freedom.
Refuse to be the slaves of this man. Demand the rights
and privileges that belong to you as free men. Put this
demand in writing—in the form of a great charter—and
require the king to sign it. So shall it be to you and
your children a safeguard forever against the injustice
of unworthy rulers."
The barons were astonished at the boldness of this
speech. Some of them shrank back in fear,
 but the bravest among them showed by their looks and
gestures that they were ready to make a bold stand for
"Come forward!" cried Stephen Langton. "Come, and swear
that you will never rest until King John has given you
the rights that are yours. Swear that you will have the
charter from his hand, or that you will wage war upon
him to the very death."
Never before had Englishmen heard such a speech. The
barons took the oath which Stephen Langton prescribed.
Then they gathered their fighting men together and
marched upon London. The cowardly king was frightened.
"What do these men want?" he asked.
They sent him word that they wanted their rights as
Englishmen, and that they would never rest until he had
given them a charter of liberties signed by his own
"Oh, well! If that is all, you shall surely have it,"
But he put them off with one excuse and another. He
sent a messenger to Rome to ask the Pope to help him.
He tried, by fine promises, to persuade Stephen Langton
to abandon the cause he had undertaken. But no one knew
the falseness of his heart better than the Pope and
the Archbishop of Canterbury.
 The people from all parts of the country now came and
joined the army of the barons. Of all the knights in
England, only seven remained true to the king.
The barons made out a list of their demands; and
Stephen Langton carried it to the king. "These things
we will have," they said; "and there shall be no peace
until you grant them."
Oh, how angry was King John! He raved like a wild
beast; he clenched his fists; he stamped upon the
floor. But he saw that he was helpless. At last he said
that he would sign the charter at such time and place
as the barons might name.
"Let the time be the 15th of June," they said, "and let
the place be Runnymede."
Now Runnymede was a green meadow not far from the city
of London, and thither the king went with his few
followers. There he was met by the barons, with an army
of determined men behind them.
The charter which Stephen Langton and his friends had
drawn up was spread out before the king. He was not a
scholar, and so it was read to him, line by line. It
was a promise that the people should not be oppressed;
that the rights of the cities and boroughs should be
 that no man should be imprisoned without a fair trial;
that justice should not be delayed or denied to any
Pale with anger, the king signed the charter, and then
rode back to his castle at Windsor. As soon as he was
in his own chamber he began to rave like a madman. He
rolled on the floor; he beat the air with his fists; he
gnawed sticks and straws; he foamed at the mouth; he
cursed the barons and the people for treating their
king so badly.
But he was helpless. The charter was signed—the
MAGNA CHARTA, to which Englishmen still point as the first
safeguard of their rights and liberties.
As might have been expected, it was not long before
John tried to break all his promises. The barons made
war upon him, and never again did he see a peaceful
day. His anger and anxiety caused him to fall into a
fever which nothing could cure. At last, despised and
shunned as he deserved to be, he died. I doubt if there
was an eye in England that wept for him.