The Middle Ages were about order and structure. Plato had said in his time that rulers should rule, fighters should fight, and workers should work. Medieval Europeans believed that, too. Each person had a place in society and every one was expected to stay in their place.

The Middle (or medieval) Ages are called “middle” because they come between ancient and modern times. There is no exact beginning or end, but they begin about the time of the fall of Rome in the 5th century (or perhaps the rise of the French King Charlemagne in 800) and end before the Renaissance in the 14th or 15th centuries.

Medieval rulers’ capabilities and motivations were always the key factors shaping the society. If the lord was wise and decent, the community thrived. If a king was foolish or corrupt, the nation suffered. And because medieval rulers controlled their lands so directly and personally and totally, their characters emerge sharp and clear from the fortunes of their nations. Here are short profiles of two bad medieval leaders and two good ones.

Good King Edmund

Edmund was lord of East Anglia (a territory in central England) during the mid-800s. Various historians give him titles as exalted as king and as common as landlord. It isn’t sure what title describes him best. What is certain is that he ruled well and was respected by the people. This description comes from the 19th century political tract, Past and Present, by Thomas Carlyle.

[Edmund’s] tenants did not complain of him in the least. Clear evidence exists that they honoured, loved, admired this Landlord to a quite astonishing degree! What Edmund's specific duties were; what his method of discharging them with such results was, would surely be interesting to know; but are not very discoverable now. How then, it may be asked, did this Edmund rise into favour; become to such astonishing extent a recognised Farmer's Friend? Really, except it were by doing justly and loving mercy, to an unprecedented extent, one does not know. The man, it would seem, 'had walked humbly with God.'

Edmund’s good administration was interrupted in the year 869 by an invasion of Vikings. After a brief war, the Vikings were in control and preparing to strip Anglia of everything valuable. They proposed to Edmund that he cooperate with them. If he ordered the people to bring their valuable property and surrender it to the Vikings, they would save the trouble of riding around the country and looting. Edmund refused.

Edmund answered that he would oppose to the utmost such savagery. They took him prisoner; again required his sanction to said proposals. Edmund again refused. Cannot we kill you? cried they. Cannot I die? Answered he. My life, I think, is my own to do what I like with! And he died under barbarous tortures, refusing to the last breath.

Edmund’s virtue as a leader was displayed in his willingness to die rather than do wrong. So, he died under torture. And he was honored after death as he had been honored while he lived.

Landlord Edmund was seen and felt by all men to have done verily a man's part in this life of his; and benedictions, and outflowing love and admiration from the universal heart, were his meed. Well-done! Well-done! cried the hearts of all men. They raised his slain and martyred body; washed its wounds with fast-flowing universal tears; tears of endless pity, and yet of a sacred joy and triumph.

The English built a shrine for Edmund that became a church and later a monastery. This “St. Edmundsbury” abbey grew through the centuries, and by the 1100s was a powerful estate. But under the weak supervision of a man named Hugh it fell to disrepair.

Weak, Abbot Hugh

Hugh was old, careless, and impious. The duties of a monastery were continuous worship and adoration, but monks needed food and a roof over their head. Hugh was negligent, and the St. Edmundsbury lands ceased to produce enough food. The St. Edmundsbury buildings fell to disrepair. The dismal end of Hugh’s life is described by a literate young monk at St. Edmundsbury named Jocelyn de Brakelond.

In the twenty-third year of his abbacy it came into Abbot Hugh's mind to go to the shrine of St. Thomas to pray; and on his way thither upon the day after the Nativity of the Virgin he had a grievous fall near Rochester, so that his knee-cap was put out and lodged in the ham of his leg. Physicians hastened to him and tortured him in many ways, but healed him not; and he was carried back to us in a horse litter and devoutly received as was his due. To cut a long story short, his leg mortified and the pain ascended even to his heart, and by reason of the pain a tertian fever laid hold on him, in the fourth fit of which he died and gave up his soul to God on the morrow of the day of St. Brice. Before he died, everything was pillaged by his servants so that nothing was left in his house but three-legged stools and tables which they were unable to carry off. The Abbot himself was scarce left with his coverlet and two old torn blankets which someone had placed over him after removing those that were whole. There was nothing worth a single penny that could be distributed to the poor for the benefit of his soul.

So the weak leader, Abbot Hugh, was robbed on his deathbed by his own servants, then buried and forgotten. But the disorder he left behind could not be forgotten. It had to be corrected. Debts had to be paid. Empty fields had to be ploughed and planted. Roofs had to be repaired. Monks grown lazy had to be roused out of their beds and set to working or praying. The man to do all this was Samson of Norfolk.

Abbot Samson

Samson was evidently a man of natural greatness. He deserves to be remembered. And fortunately, Jocelyn de Brakelond was there to record events at St. Edmundsbury during Samson’s time. Jocelyn provides a record of Samson’s accomplishments that is more reliable and more detailed than many other men of the past. Jocelyn’s peculiar Latin is not accessible in our time, but the text has been updated by Thomas Carlyle. Thanks to the two of them, modern readers know more about Samson than about many medieval kings.

Samson ruled well. Though he was a quiet and subordinate monk before, he took charge after he was named abbot. He was firm and fair, but impatient with any kind of defect. Some of his monks compared him to a wolf who chased down and destroyed every flaw. Eventually, Samson’s unbending reputation for righteousness went ahead of him. Here’s a recollection of Jocelyn.

As Abbot Samson and I were coming down from London through the Forest, I inquired of an old woman whom we came up to, Whose wood this was, and who was the keeper?'
The old woman answered, The wood belonged to the new Abbot of St. Edmund's and the keeper of it was one Arnald. How did Arnald behave to the people of the manor? I asked farther.
She answered that he used to be a devil incarnate, but that now he dreads the new Abbot, knowing him to be a wise and sharp man, and so treats the people reasonably. Whereat the Lord Abbot could not but take a triumphant laugh for himself.

Within his own realm, Samson’s troubles were heavy enough. They were much more oppressive when he clashed with greater men than himself. Once, he came into conflict with England’s King Richard, the Lionhearted. The dispute concerned who should control lands belonging to a deceased nobleman until his orphan child was old enough to inherit. By rights, it was Abbot’s Samson’s decision. But Richard was king. He suggested someone and expected Samson to accept his suggestion. He didn’t know Samson.

[A nobleman named] Adam de Cockfield died and left a daughter three months old as his heir; and the Abbot bestowed the wardship of her fief, as pleased him. But King Richard on the petition of certain of his friends urgently requested the wardship on behalf of a certain servant of his, sometimes by letters, sometimes by messengers. The Abbot, however, replied that he had given the wardship and had confirmed his gift by charter; and sending his messenger to the King, he tried by gifts and entreaties to assuage his anger. And the King replied in great indignation that he would be avenged on this proud Abbot who said him nay, save that he refrained out of reverence for St. Edmund whom he feared.
When the messenger returned, the Abbot wisely ignored the King's threats and said, “Let the King send, if he will, and seize the wardship; he has the strength and power to do what he wills, and of taking away the whole abbey from me. But he cannot move me to grant his request, nor shall this ever be done, if I can help it. For I fear lest such actions should prejudice the position of those that shall come after me; and I will never give the King money to settle this matter. Let the Most High see to it! I will patiently endure whatever may befall.'

Samson took a peculiarly medieval stance here. As a subject of the king, he said, “I will patiently endure whatever may befall.” But as the rightful authority for the question, he refused the king’s ill-considered recommendation. Eventually, the king accepted Samson’s decision.

And then, though many said that the King was very angry with the Abbot, lo and behold! the King wrote a friendly letter to the Abbot and demanded that he should give him some of his hounds. Whereupon the Abbot sent hounds, as the King had demanded, and horses also and other rich gifts, which the King received with gratitude, and in the presence of his earls and barons publicly praised the courage and loyalty of the Abbot in high terms.

Samson governed St. Edmundsbury from about 1182 to 1211. He brought the abbey back into good repair and solid accounts. He built new towers for his monastery, but also built a hospital and a school for the common people. As the encounter with the old woman in the forest shows, Samson’s high standards rubbed off on others, too.

While Samson governed his lands, King Richard went off to fight in a Crusade, and later died and was replaced by his weak brother, John.

King John & Magna Carta

John’s misrule had the usual effect on England and the larger world. England flagged. The kingship grew weak. The noblemen or barons of England grew stronger. In 1215, the barons marched on London and forced John to come out from his castle and meet them on neutral ground — in a field called Runnymede. There, they discussed the proper management of the kingdom. The result of that discussion was an extraordinary document, the Magna Carta. Magna Carta is usually translated as “Great Charter.” You could also say “The Big Deal.”

The Magna Carta did not change medieval life or government. King John signed it under pressure from the barons, and as soon as the barons took their swords from his throat he refuted it. John’s relationship with those baron soured into war. The pope declared Magna Carta invalid. Pope Innocent III had no use for John, but the pope considered all kings to be instruments of God’s will. Any attempt to limit kings’ power was an affront to God.

Despite its lack of immediate effect, the Magna Carta is fascinating and worth looking into. The document is about 5,000 words long. It is not particularly easy to read, though, because it is filled with details of the medieval world, details pertaining to disseisement, enfeoffment, darrein presentment, and amercement; of scutage, socage, wainage, and mort d'ancester; of wapentakes, hundreds, demesne, escheats, and bailiwicks. You can read the Magna Carta in an hour, but to understand it will take longer.

The Magna Carta was ahead of its time. Many of the ideas found there were opposed at the time. But they were considered brilliant and inspired when they emerged again 600 years later in the US Constitution. Here are a few of the highlights of the Magna Carta.

Hazards for the king

According to school books, Magna Carta was an agreement that limited the king’s power. That doesn’t do justice to the dramatic nature of the deal. By signing, John put his head into a noose, and gave a committee of 25 barons permission to treat him awfully. (In the following quoted passages “we” always refers to King John in person):

61. [I]f we, or our justiciar, or our bailiffs or any one of our officers, shall in anything be at fault toward any one, or shall have broken any one of the articles of the peace or of this security . . . those five-and-twenty barons shall, together with the community of the whole land, distrain and distress us in all possible ways, namely, by seizing our castles, lands, possessions, and in any other way they can, until redress has been obtained as they deem fit, saving harmless our own person, and the persons of our queen and children.

This boils down to, “If I do anything they don’t like, the barons can do whatever they want to get back at me, short of killing me or my wife and kids.” It is a shocking statement, signed under threat.

Responsibilities of stewards; rights of commoners

The powers of the king were drastically constrained under the agreement. But not only the king was put under the law. Magna Carta also demanded that any man with a public trust was duty-bound to manage the duty well and take no more than he was entitled to.

4. The guardian of the land of an heir who is thus under age, shall take from the land of the heir nothing but reasonable produce, reasonable customs, and reasonable services, and that without destruction or waste of men or goods.
5. The guardian, moreover, so long as he has the wardship of the land, shall keep up the houses, parks, fishponds, stanks, mills, and other things pertaining to the land, out of the issues of the same land; and he shall restore to the heir, when he has come to full age, all his land, stocked with ploughs and "waynage," according as the season of husbandry shall require, and the issues of the land can reasonably bear.

This rule describes the sort of conflict that arose between Samson and King Richard, described above, and which was probably common at a time when land was seldom bought or sold but handed down from father to child.

Magna Carta was mainly a deal between the king and his barons, who were all members of the privileged top tier of society. And yet, the rights of common men were recognized and codified.

30. No sheriff or bailiff of ours, or other person, shall take the horses or carts of any freeman for transport duty, against the will of the said freeman.
31. Neither we nor our bailiffs shall take, for our castles or for any other work of ours, wood which is not ours, against the will of the owner of that wood.

Local jurisdiction

The American republic consists of one nation, but also of 50 states with the ability to manage at least some affairs on the state level. We consider this an American innovation. And yet the idea was manifest in the Magna Carta, which lets each community govern itself in its own way.

56. [I]f a dispute arise . . . let it be decided in by the judgment of their peers; for tenements in England according to the law of England, for tenements in Wales according to the law of Wales, and for tenements in the marches according to the law of the marches.

Due process

Usually, medieval government depended on the sole judgment of one ruler. That ruler’s process of decision was usually unquestioned. But Magna Carta presents an innovation. It sets up a process with distinct steps, prescribing who shall be involved, how they shall be chosen, and what they shall decide.

48. All evil customs connected with forests and warrens, foresters and warreners, sheriffs and their officers, river-banks and their wardens, shall immediately be inquired into in each county by twelve sworn knights of the same county chosen by the honest men of the same county, and shall, within forty days of the said inquest, be utterly abolished, so as never to be restored,

The “evil customs” mentioned here probably were unfair tolls — not cannibalism or witchcraft. The knights’ posses were to fix the problems and then disband as soon as their task was finished so there would be no unnecessary permanent governments. In all events, this passage from the Magna Carta reflects a process in which people choose the representatives to act for the public good.

Rule of the Majority

King John agreed in the Magna Carta that he was not the sole ruler of England, and that he was subject to limitations. He agreed that when the 25 most powerful barons of the country disagreed with him, he would accept their judgments. And he agreed that the authority of those 25 barons could be wielded by a majority of them.

61. if perchance these twenty-five are present, that which the majority of those present ordain or command shall be held as fixed and established, exactly as if the whole twenty-five had concurred.

This supports the American principle that the majority of voters can decide elections and the majority of legislators can pass laws.

Inspiration of the Constitution

The Magna Carta had little effect in its time, and a tremendous effect later. America probably gained more from it than the English did. The founders knew it, and drew inspiration from it. This is most evident in the following passages, which are closely mirrored in the 4th, 5th and 6th Amendments to the Constitution.

39. No freeman shall be taken or imprisoned or disseised or exiled or in anyway destroyed, nor will we go upon him nor send upon him, except by the lawful judgment of his peers or by the law of the land.
40. To no one will we sell, to no one will we refuse or delay, right or justice.

Regulating Commerce

This last one is rather mundane. But it shows a modern sense of the good that government can do. To aid commerce and ensure fair dealing throughout the kingdom, the Magna Carta declares that weights and measures be standard, so every seller and every buyer knows the same units.

35. Let there be one measure of wine throughout our whole realm; and one measure of ale; and one measure of corn, to wit, "the London quarter;" and one width of cloth (whether dyed, or russet, or "halberget"), to wit, two ells within the selvages; of weights also let it be as of measures.

American government today is still in the business of monitoring and regulating weights and measures. If you buy gasoline, you’ll always see a stamp or a sticker on the pump showing that a state or local government employee has certified that the pump dispenses a fair and full gallon for every gallon the customer pays for. Thanks to King John and the barons of medieval England, we can buy gasoline and hundreds of other products without fear of being cheated.

The middle ages were, in actual time, 800 years or more in the past. Ancient times were longer ago, but were simpler and easier to understand. Medieval life was complicated by relationships and social obligations that we don’t recognize or have words for today. Medieval political practice is perplexing. But through the complexity, we see a few clear details.

Rulers were usually autocratic. Each could do, within his territory, what seemed best to his own mind. That worked well when the man was good, and worked badly when the man was weak or wicked. There were very few rules or constraints on medieval kings. And yet, when the barons sat down at Runnymede in 1215 to list what seemed proper, they produced the ideas that inspired America’s founders in 1787.