The Magna Charta Libertatis of
King Alfonso V of Aragon1
Michael Frendo
Your Excellency, Distinguished Guests,
To appreciate the significance of the Magna Charta Libertatis, we must first consider the
leading actors and the context in which the events took place.
The players
It must have been for good reason that King Alfonso V of Aragon, and I of Sicily, who
reigned for no fewer than 42 years (1416-58), won from his contemporaries the title
of 'Alfonso the Magnanimous'. He is said to have introduced Humanism to Southern
Italy and to have made his court the most brilliant in Europe. In his dealings with his
Maltese subjects, the grant of the Magna Charta Libertatis can be seen as attesting to
this noble side of his character. He is the protagonist of this story with all other players
playing a secondary role. Foremost among the other dramatis personae was the Knight
Gonsalvo de Monroy (d. 1429), a Castilian galley captain and trusted servant of King
Alfonso. Monroy's hard work as a royal councillor and active contributor towards the
crown's Mediterranean projects was acknowledged by the king, amongst other things, by
granting Monroy lordship over the Maltese islands in 1421. It proved to be one of the most
significant episodes of a period of Aragonese rule over Malta which lasted over 200 years.
Antonio de Cardona, Alfonso's viceroy in Sicily (1419-21), also forms part of the cast.
He accepted, as it turned out 'on behalf of Monroy', lordship over the Maltese islands
for the sum of 30,000 Aragonese florins, funds direly needed by Alfonso to continue
the fight against the Angevins which would eventually allow him to also become king
1
This is the text of a public lecture delivered by Dr Michael Frendo, Speaker Emeritus of the Maltese House of Representatives
and former Minister of Foreign Affairs of Malta, on the occasion of a Spanish-Maltese Historical Evening held at the National
Library of Malta, Valletta, on 8 November 2013. presided over by HE Don Felipe de la Morena Casado, Ambassador of Spain to
Malta.
Michael Frendo
of Naples. The contract signed with the crown was one of impignoratio, that is, one
involving the pawning of the islands in return for money. In his Medieval Usury and
the Commercialisation o f Feudal Bonds, Shael Herman claims that the contract of
impignoratio had been authorised by Pope Clement III (1187-91) to accommodate the
Crusaders' need for funds and was a secured loan disguised as the sale of a tenement
with a right of redemption.
The other major players were the Gozitans, followed by the Maltese and their
representatives, who pleaded their case with the king and his viceroys in Sicily. These
representatives included the Università, the municipal government of the day. In his Malta,
The Medieval Millennium, medievalist Charles Dalli highlights the central role played by
the citizenry o f Mdina which had already been illustrated earlier when they addressed
King Frederick in 1366 as a Universitas civitatis Meliveti representing themselves and
the inhabitants of all the villages of both islands. Later on, from the latter part of the
fourteenth century until the time of the arrival of the Hospitallers in 1530, the inhabitants
of Gozo would normally seek their own separate representation, with their distinct
universitas. Dalli claims that the Università is often recorded as invoking the intervention
of the overlord or sovereign concerning overtaxation by the bauili or bailiffs.
The context
As a result of the impignoratio contract, the viceroy in Sicily, Antonio de Cardona, became
the new lord of Malta and Gozo with full rights of civil and criminal jurisdiction over all the
population and with the authority to appoint officials, to control the dues and incomes,
and responsibility for the upkeep of the castles and maintenance of their garrisons. He
also undertook to fly the royal flacfbver the Maltese islands. His lordship was transferable
against an equal sum of money. The month after the agreement was concluded in
January 1421, the Maltese swore their loyalty to Cardona while the latter pledged that
their rights and privileges would be respected. However, a month later, in March, Cardona
officially transferred all his rights to Don Gonsalvo de Monroy.
It is unclear why this transfer took place in such a roundabout manner. Why did the
king not sign the impignoratio with Monroy directly and instead created an agreement
with the viceroy which could be transferred to a third party for an equal sum of money?
Was it to facilitate the swearing of loyalty of the Maltese to the viceroy in Sicily and then, for
them, to find a feudal overlord, Gonsalvo de Monroy, thrust upon them? Furthermore, the
king undertook that the crown would not pawn the islands to someone else in the event
that Monroy was reimbursed his money. This undertaking by the crown strengthened
Monroy's security of tenure. Commenting on this episode, Andrew Vella, in Volume 1 of his
Storja ta' Malta, has stated that there was not much the Maltese and the Gozitans could
do other than submit and recognise Cardona's legal representative, Battista Platamone,
as the ruler (or Rector et Gubernator) of the Maltese archipelago.
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The Magna Charta Libertatis of King Alfonso V of Aragon
Although documented details are scarce about Monroy’s governorship, we can interpret
the outbreak of rebellion four years later to be an indicator that all was not right. The first
to revolt were the Gozitans in 1425, followed by the Maltese in 1426, notwithstanding the
efforts of the Maltese town councillors who had tried to communicate the population’s
grievances to the crown in an effort to prevent the rebellion from spreading to Malta.
Inaction by the crown and intransigence by Monroy led to his wife Lady Constance finding
herself blockaded in the Castrum Maris, located where Fort St Angelo is to be found.
The alarmed Alfonso requested full information: one of his viceroys in Sicily, William de
Muntayans, crossed the channel only to find himself insulted by some of the Maltese.
The Maltese and Gozitans were declared outlaws and the process was set in motion
for an armed force to be organized to liberate Monroy's loyalists, including his wife,
blockaded in the Castrum Maris. Despite this turn of events, the Università kept up its
attempt at a peaceful resolution of the matter, emphasising the islands' loyalty to the royal
will while pressing the demands of Malta and Gozo. Initially the viceroys did not relent
because many crimes and excesses, such as looting and the destruction of property, had
been carried out by the rebel population. The Università persisted in its submissions and
via separate emissaries sent to Alfonso, claimed a right of redemption of the islands by
payment of the 30,000 Aragonese florins to Monroy. This was no mean task especially
since the Università claimed that it would pay this sum in the space of four months from
municipal incomes and new taxes including a general tax to be paid by all the inhabitants.
The Università clearly wanted the blockade of Malta to be lifted and a royal pardon given
for all crimes committed, including the insulting of the viceroy. Focal to all this was a
commitment that the islands would be governed as part of the royal demesne. This had
been a recurring demand of the Maltese in the past in the light of the constant switching
between fiefdom and direct crown rule over the centuries.
When it became clear that the Maltese were not going to be able to raise such a large
sum within the period which had initially been stipulated, fresh negotiations took place
but it was also clear that the sovereign, true to his contract, insisted that Monroy was
to regain possession of the islands in the event that he was not refunded the money he
had paid for his fiefdom. Nevertheless, with the backing of the viceroys for the Maltese
proposal, the envoys Antoni Desguanes and Antonio Bagnolo negotiated a modified plan
on 30 December 1427. Dramatically, but not so unusually, the agreement also included
provision for human hostages to be offered to ensure the carrying out of its terms. The
Maltese would deposit with Viceroy Muntayans 15,000 florins of Maltese assets already
seized in Sicily, the Università would pay 5,000 florins to Lady Constance de Monroy in 30
days with the remaining 10,000 florins to be paid by October 1428. In addition, Desguanes
was to take control of the Mdina castle where leading Maltese would take turns to lock
themselves up, four at a time for a month, to guarantee the carrying out of the agreement.
When Monroy did not consider this sufficient, Desguanes sent two of his own children as
hostages to Monroy - a huge personal risk. The Maltese had set themselves a Herculean
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Michael Frendo
task. In the light of all this, Alfonso issued the Magna Charta Libertatis to the people of
Malta and Gozo at Valencia on 20 June 1428.
The Magna Charta Libertatis
The Magna Charta Libertatis was, by any measure, an extraordinary document granted
by the sovereign in favour of the rights of the inhabitants of the Maltese islands which, in
the words of Charles Dalli, was to mark a political milestone in the relationship with the
crown for the next hundred years. Legally, the charter renewed the pledge which King
Martin I (1376-1409) had made in 1397 that the islands would always form part of the
royal demesne and would not be given up in fiefdom, a type of promise that had been
more honoured in the breach over the centuries.
The charter went much further. It interpreted the Maltese uprising as an affirmation
o f the people’s love for the king in so far as the people rose against Monroy in the name
o f the King to demand permanent union with the crown. For this reason, in welcoming
Malta back to his demesne, Alfonso, in flowery language, terms the Maltese islands
as 'a noteworthy and conspicuous limb and gemstone of the royal crown'. From that
time onwards, the capital city of Malta was referred to in official documents as 'Medina
Notabile', later Città Notabile.
For the following commentary on the charter, I have relied on a working translation
into English kindly supplied to me by Charles Dalli of the text originally published by
Roberto Valentini. It must be said in passing that the absence of a formal translation of
the original text is a matter that needs to be addressed with urgency. In due course, the
original text of Alfonso's Valencia Charter o f 20 June 1428 was enrolled in the 1475 Acts
o f Notary Lucas de Sillato, who described himself as 'annual judge of the city and island
of Malta', and Paulus Bonellus, 'royal public notary for the islands of Malta and Gozo',
in order, in their own words, 'to keep for the sake of certainty and caution [this charter]
... which should be conserved and retained, so that neither old age nor the ravages of time
will devastate, corrode or diminish it’.
Time certainly has not ’devastated' this document and neither has it diminished its
importance. The Magna Charta Libertatis eventually even found its way onto the reverse
side of the Two Malta Lira (Lm2) banknote, in circulation up to 2008 when Malta adopted
the Euro (€) as its currency. The registration in the Acts of Notaries Sillato and Bonellus was
witnessed by a number of persons including two known notaries, Ingomes de Brancato
and Petrus de Caxaro, the latter being the author of the famous Cantilena, the earliestknown literary work in the Maltese language. In the charter, Alfonso makes reference
to the contract of impignoratio, a pawning which is redeemable by its very nature as a
legal institute, stating th a t'... after the great and most arduous necessities which befell
our royal Majesty ... our Majesty pawned or alienated with the right of recovery, sold and
conceded to the noble Gonsalvo de Monroy, knight, for 30,000 gold florins of Aragon, the
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The Magna Charta Libertatis of King Alfonso V of Aragon
castles, City, and islands of Malta and Gozo with all their rights, incomes, members and
pertinences...’.
Interpreting the rebellion as an act of loyalty to the crown, the charter continues
'... which concession and alienation the citizens and inhabitants of the said islands, as
most singular zealous and faithful vassals of the holy royal house of Aragon, finding
it troublesome and grievous, withdrawing from the obedience and government o f the
said Gonsalvo, invoked the royal name, and sent their envoys and ambassadors to us to
humbly request that the said alienation be interrupted and revoked and the said islands,
as they had been in the past, might be returned, restituted, and added to the sacred
domain of the Kingdom of Sicily'. Subject to the condition of repayment of the 30,000
florins, as stated above, the king agreed th a t'... the said island should remain perpetually,
return and stay and be aggregated with the said sacred royal domain just like the city of
Palermo and the cities of Messina and Catania, from which at no time should they nor
could they be divided nor in any way separated'.
If these statements were remarkable, extraordinary was the grant by the royal crown
in the Magna Charta Libertatis to the people of Malta and Gozo of the right to resist by
force (manu forti) any future grant in fiefdom of the Maltese islands. Crown rule was to be
guaranteed and any cession could be resisted by force of arms. The words of the Charter
are very clear and emphatic:
... conceding to them (the Maltese] expressly, with the aforementioned royal authority, that
the concessions and mandates or acts and provisions aforesaid may be legally secured and
[defended] with impunity once, twice and as many times as shall be necessary by them [that
is, the Maltese] to respond, reply and in fact resist with a strong hand [with arms] for which no
crime, felony nor disobedience shall be reputed to have incurred or charged in any way, in view
of their most innate faithfulness and clear sincerity of pure faith.
By any measure this is an extraordinary right granted to a people, albeit in the
context of an octroi constitutional document, namely a constitution granted by act of
the sovereign to his subjects. As a matter of fact, there are not many examples where
a constitution grants the people the right to resist with force any attempt of breach of
the constitutional order in place. In modem constitutions, two European examples come
to mind. The first is that of the Grundgesetz, the Basic Law of the Federal Republic of
Germany: 'Art. 20 All Germans shall have the right to resist any persons seeking to abolish
this constitutional order, if no other remedy is available.' The second could be that of
Portugal: 'Art. 21 Everyone shall have the right to resist any order that infringes his rights,
freedoms and guarantees and to use force to defend himself against any attack if it is
impossible for him to turn to the authorities.' A most extraordinary right indeed, explicitly
granted that, at least in a positivist legal sense, is not even found in today’s Constitution
of the Republic of Malta.
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Michael Frendo
However, after all this, the Maltese were unable to honour their side of the deal: they
could only muster 20,000 florins and so Monroy retained control of the castrum mans,
the vice-admiralty of the Maltese islands, and, presumably, also the human hostages.
The death o f Monroy shortly afterwards on 10 April 1429 proved to be a liberation for
them since in his will Monroy not only released the Maltese from paying the remaining
10,000 florins, but of the 20,000 florins already paid to him, half was to be given to the king
and the other half redistributed among the Maltese population.
Beyond the Magna Charta Libertatis
Alfonso the Magnanimous went even beyond the Charta Libertatis and carried on with
the logic of autonomy which it engendered in the governance o f the islands. At the
request of the Università in 1429,1431,1438,1450 and 1458 he decreed, inter alia, that
(1) all officers were to be Maltese; (2) the office of Secrezia of Malta was to be wholly
independent of the Maestro Secreto of Sicily; (3) the Maltese were exempt from the
payment of customs and all duties in the Kingdom of Sicily; (4) the capitano de la verga or
Hakem (the commander of the city) was not to attend the meeting of the Università when
it discussed any matter which concerned him; (5) the Castellano, the official representing
the king, had no jurisdiction outside the ancient limits, such as the castrum maris.
The Magna Charta Libertatis of King Alfonso V of Aragon
consisted of the grant of Malta by the successor of Alfonso to the knights of the Order
of St John of Jerusalem 'in feudal perpetuity, noble, free, and uncontrolled'. As Luttrell
writes in his Approaches to Medieval Malta, ‘In and after 1524, the Universitas was to
rest its opposition to a new royal enfeoffment of the islands by Charles V to the Knights
Hospitallers on the royal privilege of 1428.' It was to no avail: the will of the emperor
prevailed. Yet, ironically, notwithstanding this renewed alienation as a fief, under the
knights - foreigners who, however, had no other home - Malta can also be seen to have
undergone an experience o f statehood and, as significantly, a historically anomalous
divorce from the Sicilian reality which endured under French and British rule. History
teaches us that freedom is never achieved in a linear progression. It stutters and falters,
moves forward, falls back, resumes its pace through time. The Magna Charta Libertatis
and the one hundred years of self-rule that followed represented a collective experience
of the Maltese people that continued to resonate in later centuries. Such experiences
formed and strengthened the sinews of the nation, in an unremitting determination that
eventually led to these islands and its people achieving independence, statehood, and
sovereignty in 1964.
After Alfonso's death in 1458, his successors confirmed the rights that he had granted
the Maltese: a train had been set in motion. In fact, Dalli comments that in 1429 nobody
could have foretold that a full century o f relatively stable municipal government lay ahead
for this peripheral dependency of the Regno. There was no reason to place any special
trust in the royal commitment to the inclusion of the Maltese islands in the demanio, so
neatly expressed on 20 June 1428 in what was later termed the Maltese Magna Charta
Libertatis.
For one hundred years the promise was kept by Alfonso and his successors and
each of the islands was administered by a separate Universitas, in a century of freedom
regained within the confines of the royal domain. Breaking away from feudalism and
establishing self-rule over the territory, can be interpreted as a building block in the very
long-term process o f asserting statehood. This unexpected change of fortune in internal
governance lasted until 1530 when the perpetual direct union with the crown and the
historical and juridical link with Sicily were broken forever.
A promise broken, a sovereign statehood retrieved
The grant of the new fiefdom by Charles V to the Sovereign Military Order of St John
can be seen as a betrayal o f the Maltese and o f the commitment made in perpetuity
by Alfonso the Magnanimous and honoured for a century. Indeed it is ironic that the
breach of the commitment in perpetuity for Malta to remain in the demanio of the crown
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