WHO could fail to feel a pang of pride as a pageant of 200 boats carried a replica of Magna Carta along the River Thames, on the 800th anniversary of its sealing?

After all, the landmark document is famous throughout the world, a seed of democracy which inspired America’s Founding Fathers, the United Nations, Nelson Mandela and so many others.

But what this week’s celebrations also brought home to me is how hopeless our country is at inspiring Britons about our astonishing history...

A few months ago, I was lucky enough to join a selected few invited to view the four surviving copies of the original Magna Carta, in a magnificent House of Lords gallery.

There they were, the near-perfect parchments normally found in the British Library, and in Salisbury and Lincoln Cathedrals, and a fourth badly-damaged by fire.

But also on show that day – and just as interesting – were other, equally-important documents in the story of our parliamentary liberty, which no-one ever talks about.

In one cabinet lay the Petition of Right (1628), which – mirroring Magna Carta – was triggered by taxes imposed by Charles I and proclaimed them illegal without the consent of parliament.

Nearby was the Habeas Corpus Act (1679), which gave teeth to ancient writs to prevent unlawful detention by our masters and power to the courts to decide if imprisonment is lawful.

Then there was the Bill of Rights (1689), which established the principles of frequent parliaments, free elections and freedom of speech after William, Prince of Orange, replaced James II.

Rolled up was the massive Great Reform Act (1832), which gave the vote to middle-class men (some progress!) and, alongside, The People’s Charter (1838) – which demanded the vote for everyone.

As a schoolboy, I visited Washington DC and its National Archives Building, home to America’s sacred treasures - the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights.

Anyone can walk in off the street to see these documents, free of charge, and millions and millions of Americans do exactly that.

Okay, some of it may be a bit cheesy for British tastes – the website invites “interactive signings” of the Declaration “alongside our forefathers” – but the birth of democracy is on display to all.

In contrast, all the evidence of momentous victories in Britain’s often blood-soaked struggles against tyranny are hidden away in the Parliamentary Archives, in the House of Lords tower.

In 17 years working at Westminster, I had no idea all these documents were at the other end of the building – until I stumbled across them on their rare outing. Why the secrecy? Well, I was told the problem is there is simply nowhere to display them in this ageing, crumbling palace where the public could safely visit.

And I suspect that long-festering rivalries stand in the way of the Parliamentary authorities letting someone else take on the job.

Yet – with the looming EU referendum, rows over human rights and the battle for Scotland – never have democratic rights been more keenly debated here.

In that atmosphere, how can it make sense to keep our fascinating fight for those rights under lock and key, for the privileged few only?