Therefore, in the aggravated case of Exeter, we could but expect him to deal with its citizens as he had dealt with those of Alençon,[31] and as he was to deal, hereafter, with the sturdy defenders of Ely.[32] A fearful vengeance was their certain doom. There was, moreover, as I stated at the outset, a need for sternness at this juncture that might justify William, apart from vengeance, in inflicting such signal punishment as should deter all other 'rebels'.
Yet what do we find? The citizens, we read, were 'favourably received', and 'assured of the safe possession of their lives and goods'. Nay, William even 'secured the gates with a strong guard of men whom he could trust in order to preserve the goods of the citizens from any breaches of discipline'.[33] The dreaded Conqueror, 'post tot iras terribilesque minas', had suddenly become mild as a lamb, and Mr Freeman accepts it all quite as a matter of course.
Such conduct would, surely, have been a positive premium on revolt.
A castle, of course, was raised; but this was inevitable, whether a town submitted peaceably or not. For instance, 'it is plain', Mr Freeman wrote, 'that Lincolnshire submitted more peaceably, and was dealt with more tenderly, than most parts of the kingdom' (iv. 216); but 'a castle was, of course, raised at Lincoln, as well as elsewhere', and 'involved the destruction of a large number of houses' (217-8), very many more than at Exeter.
One 'penalty', however, remains as the price that Exeter was called upon to pay for all her guilt. This, we read, was 'the raising of its tribune to lessen the wealth which had enabled it to resist'.[34] For its wealth is admitted. Now, before criticizing Mr Freeman's view, let us clearly understand what that view was. Taking, as is right, his latest work—though his view had not altered—we read of Exeter in 1050:
The city which had been the morning-gift of Norman Emma was now, along with Winchester, part of the morning-gift of English Edith, daughter of Godwine, sister of Harold. At Exeter she was on her own ground; the royal revenues within the city were hers.[35]
In 1086, we learn:
The whole payment was eighteen pounds yearly. Of this sum six pounds—that is the earl's third penny—went to the Sheriff Baldwin.... The other twelve pounds had formed part of the morning-gift of the lady, and though Edith had been dead eleven years, they are entered separately as hers.[36]
So far, all is consistent and clear enough. But we find it immediately added that: