According to Hoveden, Richard asked for either (1) three hundred knights who would serve him, at their own costs, for a year, or (2) a sum sufficient to enable him to hire three hundred knights for a year at the rate of three shillings a day. The Magna Vita, however, implies that the former alternative alone was laid before the council. The grounds on which St Hugh protested are thus given by our two authorities:
Respondit pro se, quod ipse in hoc voluntati regis nequaquam adquiesceret, tum quia processu temporis in ecclesiae suae detrimentum redundaret, tum quia successores sui dicerent, 'Patres nostri comederunt uvam acerbam, et dentes filiorum obstupescunt' (Hoveden).
Scio equidem ad militare servitium domino regi, sed in hac terra solummodo exhibendum, Lincolniensem ecclesiam teneri; extra metas vero Angliae nil tale ab ea deberi. Unde mihi consultius arbitror ad natale solum repedare ... quam hic pontificatum gerere et ecclesiam mihi commissam, antiquas immunitates perdendo, insolitis angariis subjugare (Magna Vita).
Two points stand out clearly—one that St Hugh took his stand on the prescriptive rights of his church, rights infringed by the king's demand; the other, that he spoke for himself alone, not for the church, still less for the barons, and least of all for the nation. Our authorities, however, are so vague that they leave in doubt the precise point 'taken' by the saintly prelate. Mr Freeman, we have seen, confidently assumes that he 'spoke up for the laws and rights of Englishmen'; Miss Norgate holds that he took up the position of Thomas and Anselm as 'a champion of constitutional liberty',[9] whatever that may mean; even Dr Stubbs claims that he 'acted on behalf of the nation to which he had joined himself'.[10]
I venture to think that the clue to the enigma is to be found in quite another quarter. In the chronicle of Jocelin de Brakelond we find a most instructive passage, which refers, it cannot be doubted, to the same episode. The story is told somewhat differently, but the point raised is the same. King Richard, we are told, demanded that knights should be sent him from England, in the proportion of one from every ten due by the church 'baronies'. The servitium debitum of St Edmund's being forty, the abbot was called upon to send four.[11] That the principle of joint equipment, which had been adopted under Henry II in 1157,[12] and again I think by Longchamp in 1191,[13] was resorted to on this occasion is the more probable because a few years later (1205) we find King John similarly demanding 'quod novem milites per totam Angliam invenirent decimum militem, bene paratum equis et armis, ad defensionem regni nostri'. I admit, however, that it is not mentioned in the other versions of our episode, and Jocelin speaks only of the demand upon the church fiefs. But the point is that when the abbot consulted his tenants as to sending the four knights required, they protested that they were liable to pay scutage, but not to serve out of England.[14] Now this is a locus classicus on the institution of scutage. Its bearing I shall examine below, after finishing the story. The abbot, we read, finding himself in a strait, crossed the sea in search of the king, who told him that a fine would not avail; he wanted men, not money.[15]
Surely we have here the key to the position taken by St Hugh. When he claimed that his fief was not bound 'ad servitium militare ... extra metas Angliae' he cannot have referred to the payment of scutage, for that had been paid by his predecessors and himself without infringing the liberties of their church.[16] He must, therefore, have referred not to 'money', but to personal service outside the realm. But was this exemption peculiar to the church of Lincoln? If we find the same privilege existing at St Edmund's and at Salisbury, may we not infer that the church contingents were only bound to serve in person for 'defence, not defiance',[17] and that we have here the perfect explanation of the fact that scutage, as commutation for service, is an institution, when it first appears, peculiar to church fiefs? The mediaeval dread of creating a precedent preyed on the abbot as on the saint. From the council of Lillebonne to the Bedford auxilium (1224) it was always the same cry:
Creiment k'il seit en feu tornez
Et en costume seit tenu
Et par costume seit rendu.
It was in this spirit that Hugh of Avalon, I take it, made his stand: other prelates might waive the point, in consideration of the king's necessities, but he, at least, would never allow a standing exemption to be broken through and thus impaired for all time.