Richard found England much too cold and wet, spent little if any time in it, spoke no English and refused to learn. Ambitious, indefatigable, brave, tough, and resolute, he determined not just to liberate the Holy Land but also to finish his father's work of subduing France, to whose throne he had a legitimate claim. And despite the opposition of his wheedling younger brother John (who offered French king Philip all of Normandy east of the Seine in exchange for Philip's support against Richard), by 1199 he was well on his way to succeeding.
That year a serf belonging to Aldemar V Limoges found a fabulous golden treasure trove, which the viscount hid in his castle at Châlus. Word leaked out Richard, who as liege lord demanded his share of the booty, and when Aldemar refused to yield it up, Richard laid siege at Châlus.
Richard was directing the siege, safely out of arrow range as he thought, when he was struck in the shoulder by a bolt from a new, high-tech crossbow. He refused to dress the wound and it rapidly grew infected. (Was the arrow poisoned? Accounts differ.) Within days he was dead at 42.
Had Richard lived as long as his father, he would have ruled England another thirty years. In that time he would probably have taken France and united the crowns. Weak John Lackland would never have become king, John would never have had the power to abuse, there would never have been the showdown at Runnymede, and we would have had no Magna Carta. Without its source spring, what course might democracy's river have found? Worst of all, these trip notes would be in French and none of us could pronounce them.