Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy

Meanwhile, in England, the Pentecostal court (9 June) was thrown into consternation by the news of an imminent invasion.[38] The curia was honeycombed with treason, and king and magnates regarded one another with mutual suspicion. Not knowing how far the conspiracy had spread, Henry was in terror of a general desertion by the barons. They, on the other hand, feared an increase of royal power and the summary vengeance that would fall upon them as traitors after the restoration of peace. At this juncture, all discussion of the investiture controversy was set aside, and king and barons alike turned to Archbishop Anselm as the one man whose character commanded universal confidence and who, by his position as primate of England, was constitutionally qualified to act as mediator in such a crisis. Apparently the nobles and people renewed their allegiance by a general oath; and the king, on his part, extending his hand to the archbishop as the representative of his subjects, “promised that so long as he lived he would govern the realm with just and holy laws.”[39]

When this mutual exchange of assurances had somewhat cleared the air, already thick with treason, the king proceeded with his accustomed vigor to take measures to thwart the impending attack. He sent ships to sea to head off the hostile fleet. He gathered an army from all parts of the realm, and, marching to Pevensey “at midsummer,” he pitched a permanent camp there and awaited the invasion.[40] Anselm joined the levy with the knights due from his fief;[41] but the archbishop’s services were mainly moral rather than military.

As the duke’s forces for the invasion were being assembled at Tréport, not far from Saint-Valery—the port from which the Conqueror’s fleet had sailed in 1066—it was but natural to expect that a landing would again be attempted at Pevensey. A different plan, however, was adopted. Buscarls whom Henry had sent to sea to head off the invasion were corrupted—through the contrivance of Ranulf Flambard, it is said[42]—and, deserting the royal cause, accepted service with the duke as pilots of his fleet.[43] With such guides the invaders easily avoided the ships which the king had sent out against them, and sailing past Pevensey, where the royal forces were awaiting them, they landed safely at Portsmouth (21 July),[44] and were welcomed by their confederates within the kingdom.[45] Sending a defiance to the king,[46] Robert advanced upon Winchester, the seat of the royal treasury and the chief administrative centre of the realm, and pitched his camp in a strong position. Apparently he meant to attack the city;[47] but such a plan, if entertained, was quickly abandoned, and Robert turned towards London and advanced as far as the forest of Alton.[48]

It was a trying moment for the king, and the chroniclers describe in moving terms the terrors which he suffered.[49] Almost despairing of his kingdom, they declare, he feared even for his life.[50] The successful landing of the invaders had given the signal for further desertions among the disaffected barons.[51] Many who until this moment had maintained the appearance of loyalty now openly aligned themselves with the duke, seeking to cloak their infamous conduct by demanding unjust and impossible concessions from the king. To this number belong Robert of Bellême and William of Warenne,[52] who clearly had been among the chief conspirators from the beginning, and probably also William of Mortain, earl of Cornwall.[53] Robert of Meulan, who on every occasion remained faithful to the king, was for paying these base traitors in their own coin. He urged the king to conciliate them, “to indulge them as a father indulges his children,” to grant all their requests, even though they demanded London and York. When the storm had been weathered, he insinuated, the king might visit condign punishment upon them and reclaim the domains which they had wrung from him in his hour of need.[54]

But in this dire hour Henry found a more powerful supporter in Anselm. As treason thickened around the king, he placed his trust in almost no one except the archbishop.[55] Their quarrel over investitures was no longer allowed to stand between them. Eadmer affirms that Henry gave up his whole contention in that matter, and promised henceforth to obey the decrees and commands of the apostolic see.[56] And with such assurances Anselm threw himself heart and soul into the royal cause. Privately he undertook to inspire the disloyal barons whom the king brought before him with a holy fear of violating their plighted faith.[57] But he went further. Mounting a pulpit in the midst of the host, he harangued the forces upon their obligation to abide by their sworn allegiance. His voice was like the blast of a trumpet calling the multitude to arms. Raising their voices, they pledged their goods and their loyalty to the king, upon condition that he put away the evil customs which had come in with William Rufus and that he keep good laws.[58]

Thus the church and the English people stood firmly behind the king,[59] and many of the barons who at first had contemplated desertion seem to have been held back by the strong personal influence of the archbishop. And, with such support, Henry moved forward to intercept the invaders,[60] and came face to face with them at Alton.[61] Yet no battle ensued:

In this happy couplet Wace has described the situation exactly. In spite of a very fortunate beginning, resolution failed the duke and his supporters when it came to pressing their advantage home.[63] The king, too, notwithstanding the disaffection among his barons, had been able to muster a formidable army. Probably the desertions from the royal cause had been less numerous than Robert and his supporters had anticipated.[64] The battle, if joined, would certainly be a bloody one. And, on his side, the king was in no position to force the issue: the loyalty of a considerable portion of his army was too doubtful. Moreover, it was no part of Henry’s character to seek by arms what he could achieve by diplomacy, a sphere in which he enjoyed a far greater superiority. The chief supporters of both sides also hesitated. A fratricidal war was as little attractive to the barons, whose families were divided between the two opposing forces, as it was to the two brothers who were the principals in the contest.[65] And so saner counsels prevailed, and leading barons from each side opened negotiations for peace.[66]

The text of the treaty which resulted has not come down to us in documentary form, but it is possible to reconstruct its terms with some fulness from the narrative sources. Robert gave up all claim to the English crown, released Henry from the homage which he had done him on an earlier occasion—probably upon the receipt of the Cotentin in 1088—and recognized his royal title and dignity.[67] It was not considered fitting that an English king should remain the vassal of a Norman duke. On his side, the king undertook to pay Robert an annual subsidy of 3000 marks of silver[68] and to surrender all his holdings in Normandy except the great stronghold of Domfront.[69] Long years before, when Henry had been a wandering exile, his fortunes at their lowest, the men of Domfront had voluntarily called him in and made him their lord; and on taking possession of their town and castle he had solemnly sworn never to abandon them. The binding force of this oath was now invoked as a pretext for the king’s retention of a solitary outpost in Robert’s dominions. An amnesty provision was added for the benefit of the barons with holdings on both sides of the Channel who by supporting one of the brothers had jeopardized their interests with the other. Robert undertook to restore all Norman honors which he had taken from the king’s supporters;[70] and Henry promised the restoration of all English lands which he had seized from partisans of the duke.[71] A special clause, of which we would gladly know the full significance, provided that Count Eustace of Boulogne should have “his paternal lands in England.”[72] Further, it was agreed that, if either of the brothers should die before the other and leave no lawful heir, the survivor should succeed to his dominions whether in England or in Normandy.[73]

So far the provisions of the treaty seem reasonably certain. The remainder are more doubtful. Ordericus Vitalis asserts—and his whole defence of Henry’s dealings with Robert down to the latter’s overthrow at Tinchebray, and after, is founded upon the assertion—that Robert and Henry entered into a sworn agreement to recover all of the Conqueror’s domains which had been lost since his death and to visit condign punishment upon the wicked men who had fomented discord between them.[74] Wace adds that each undertook, in case the other should be at war, to furnish him with one hundred knights so long as the war lasted.[75] According to the Annals of Winchester, Ranulf Flambard gave up his bishopric of Durham.[76]

The treaty, as finally agreed upon, was duly confirmed in accordance with a custom of the period by the oaths of twelve great barons on each side.[77]

Thus ended Robert’s last and greatest effort to gain the English throne. The royal army was disbanded and sent home. A part of the ducal forces were sent back to Normandy.[78] But with the rest, Robert remained in England for several months upon terms of peace and friendship with his brother.[79] May he possibly have been awaiting the first instalment of the English subsidy? The Chronicler does not fail to raise a characteristic lament, though he makes no reference to oppressive gelds: “and his men incessantly did much harm as they went, the while that the count continued here in the country.” About Michaelmas Duke Robert returned to Normandy.[80]

The treaty of Alton has been described as “the most ill considered step in the whole of Robert’s long career of folly.”[81] It can hardly prove a surprise, however, to one who has followed Robert’s course through that long career. The real folly lay not so much in the making of the treaty as in the whole project of overthrowing Henry I., once he had got fairly seated on the English throne. It is hard to believe that the crown was within the duke’s grasp as the two armies stood facing each other at Alton. Henry had the support of the church and of the mass of his English subjects. Only a faction of the nobles was against him. And a single victory gained by the ducal forces would, it seems, hardly have resulted in disaster for the royal cause. Robert had undertaken a task which was beyond his power and his resources, a fact which the king’s momentary weakness cannot disguise.

CHAPTER VI
THE LOSS OF NORMANDY

Duke Robert’s ambitious attempt to drive Henry I from the throne had ended in a signal failure. To be sure, he had gained the promise of an annual subsidy of 3000 marks of silver, and this must have seemed to him an important consideration. But he had also revealed his weakness and indecision; and Henry can hardly have looked upon the payment of the subsidy as more than a temporary measure which would serve his purpose until he was in a position to adopt a more aggressive course towards the duke. By accepting a money payment in lieu of his claim upon the English crown, Robert had inevitably been reduced from the offensive to the defensive; and his continued failure to give strong and effective government to Normandy was a standing invitation to Henry to attack him. The treaty of Alton marked the beginning of a path of disaster which was to lead the duke to the field of Tinchebray and the prison walls of Cardiff.

From a military standpoint there had been little of the heroic about Henry’s course in meeting the invasion. But he had won a diplomatic victory of the first importance, and he was not slow to take full advantage of his success. Regardless of the amnesty which had been provided by the recent treaty, he proceeded at once to take summary vengeance upon his enemies. Robert had not yet left the realm when the first blow fell upon William of Warenne and several others who were sent out of the kingdom with him, “disinherited for his sake.”[1] It soon appeared that a like fate was in store for others of the duke’s late supporters. King Henry did not proceed against them directly for calling in the invader—that presumably would have been a needless violation of the treaty—nor did he court disaster by attacking them all at once. But one by one, and upon various charges, he had them haled before his curia and condemned.[2] Ivo of Grandmesnil, the crusader, attempted to engage in private war, a thing before almost unknown in England, and was made to pay for his presumption with a heavy fine. Covered with shame as he was, as a result of his cowardice at Antioch, and convinced that he would never be able to regain the king’s friendship, he found it advisable to extricate himself from his difficulties by departing a second time on crusade.[3] Robert Malet and Robert of Pontefract, son of Ilbert de Lacy, were also disinherited and made to quit the realm.[4]

Before proceeding against his more powerful enemies of the great house of Talvas, or Bellême, Henry made more careful preparations. For the best part of a year he set his secret agents to watch the terrible Robert, earl of Shrewsbury, and to gather information against him, which was all carefully reduced to writing.[5] Then suddenly, in 1102, the earl was summoned to appear before the curia regis,[6] accused upon forty-five separate counts of words spoken or acts committed against the king or his brother, the duke of Normandy. Tacitly admitting that his case was hopeless, the great earl fled to his strongholds without pleading, and was adjudged a public enemy.[7] War followed. One by one, the earl’s fortresses, Arundel, Tickhill, Bridgenorth, and Shrewsbury, were reduced; and before Michaelmas[8] Robert of Bellême was driven from England, an utterly defeated and disinherited outlaw. “Filled with grief and rage,” he went over sea and “spent his fury on the Normans.”[9]

It was not the king’s way to do things by halves. As soon as he had finished with Robert, he took action against other members of the Bellême family. Accusations were brought against Arnulf and Roger, Robert’s brothers, and they were condemned to the loss of their estates and driven from the realm.[10] But even then the king’s anger was not appeased or his appetite for plunder sated; and he proceeded to confiscate the lands which the nuns of the Norman monastery of Almenèches had received in England through the generosity of Roger of Montgomery.[11] Their sole offence lay in the fact that they happened to be presided over by Abbess Emma, a sister of Robert of Bellême.

While Henry was thus engaged in extirpating his enemies in England, Normandy under Duke Robert was increasingly a prey to confusion and anarchy. As we have noted, the death of William Rufus had been the signal for an outbreak of private war in the duchy. In the very week that the news of the king’s death was received, William of Évreux and Ralph of Conches made a hostile incursion into the territory of Beaumont and plundered the lands of Robert of Meulan. In a like spirit, others who had been held in check by the rigor of the Red King’s justice now took up arms and desolated the wretched country.[12] It is probable that the duke’s return from the Crusade and his attack upon England in some degree mitigated these conditions of disorder. The expedition against England could hardly have been fitted out and launched amid such anarchy as Ordericus describes. And as the turbulent barons prepared themselves for the foreign enterprise, their minds and hands must necessarily have been turned away from domestic feuds.

But for the same reason the failure of the attack upon England reacted disastrously upon Normandy, and brought on disorders hitherto unheard of. As Henry I expelled the outlaws from England, they invariably sought a refuge in Normandy and attempted to recoup their damaged fortunes by indulging in the worst excesses.[13] For a time Robert Curthose showed some spirit in dealing with the freebooters, though, if one accept the account of Ordericus Vitalis even with considerable reservations, his efforts did him little credit. When Henry embarked upon his great struggle with the house of Bellême in 1102, he appealed to Robert under the terms of the treaty of Alton to join him in the enterprise. And the duke so far responded to his call as to assemble the forces of Normandy and lay siege to the castle of Vignats, a Bellême stronghold, which was held by Gerard de Saint-Hilaire. It is reported that the garrison were ready and even eager to surrender, had a vigorous assault been made to give them a fair excuse. But the duke had little control over his undisciplined host, and Robert de Montfort and other traitors in the ranks fired the encampment and threw the whole army into a panic. The ducal forces fled in wild confusion with none pursuing, and the astonished garrison of Vignats shouted after them in derision.[14] Realizing now that they had nothing to fear, they issued from their stronghold and carried a devastating war throughout the Hiémois, and, so far as is recorded, the duke made no effort to repress them. Nothing remained but for the local lords of the district to defend themselves. Robert of Grandmesnil and his two brothers-in-law, Hugh de Montpinçon and Robert de Courcy, assembled their vassals and did what they could to check the freebooters. But their efforts met with small success. Other Bellême garrisons from Château-Gontier, Fourches, and Argentan joined with the plunderers from Vignats, and their raids were carried far and wide. Only the strong could defend themselves, and the homes of the unarmed peasantry were pillaged and given over to the flames.[15]

If we have here a true account, Robert Curthose had proved unequal to the task of putting down an insignificant body of Bellême’s retainers and of keeping peace in the restricted territory of the Hiémois. He was soon called upon to deal with the arch-enemy of peace and order in person. It must have been in the autumn of 1102 that Robert of Bellême, utterly discomfited and overwhelmed in England, crossed over to Normandy and began to vent his fury upon those of his countrymen who had dared to join the duke in attacking his garrisons.[16]

The disorders of 1102 were but a prelude to those that followed in 1103. We have only a fragmentary account of the events, but the general impression of the picture is that of a war of unparalleled violence and cruelty. Villages were depopulated, and churches were burned down upon the men, women, and children who had taken refuge in them. “Almost all Normandy” arose as by common consent against the tyrant of Bellême. But the movement was rendered ineffective for want of a strong and persistent leader.[17] Robert of Bellême, on his side, possessed almost unlimited resources. He is said to have held thirty-four strong castles, all well stocked with provisions and ready for war. Disregarding the claims of his brothers Roger and Arnulf, who had suffered outlawry and exile on his account, he retained the whole family inheritance in his own hands. While this kept his resources intact, it cost him the support of his brothers. Roger retired from the conflict and spent the rest of his life upon his wife’s patrimony at Charroux. But Arnulf in high indignation deserted the family cause and threw in his lot with Robert Curthose, taking with him a considerable number of Bellême supporters. Having recently captured the castle of Almenèches, he turned it over to the duke, who assembled an army there and prepared to press his advantage.[18] With ‘almost all Normandy’ in arms against him, with one of his brothers in retirement, and the other actively supporting the duke, the cause of Robert of Bellême might well seem desperate. He even doubted the fidelity of his closest friends. Yet, undismayed, he rushed to Almenèches, and, without a moment’s hesitation, fired the nunnery and burned it to the ground.[19] Overwhelming the ducal forces, he captured Oliver de Fresnay and many others, and subjected not a few of them to horrible punishments. The duke, admitting his defeat, retired to Exmes.[20]

The necessity of crushing Robert of Bellême now became more imperative than ever, and for a time there seemed some prospect of success. His violence and oppression had stirred up against him not only the Normans, but some of his powerful neighbors across the border. Rotrou of Mortagne joined forces with William of Évreux and the men of the Hiémois. Robert of Saint-Céneri and Hugh de Nonant also joined the movement with their retainers. But even this swarm of enemies was unable to inflict a crushing defeat upon the lord of Bellême. They could injure him in numerous small engagements, but to overcome him, or inflict any condign punishment upon him, was beyond their power.[21]

Robert of Bellême’s future in Normandy was finally determined by a decisive battle with the duke, but the place and date of the engagement are not recorded. We are without information as to the duke’s movements after his retirement from Almenèches to Exmes, though it seems clear that he reassembled his troops and determined to renew the offensive against Robert of Bellême. But the lord of Bellême did not wait to be attacked. Drawing up his forces in battle order as the ducal army was approaching, he launched a furious onslaught which carried all before it. The duke was put to flight, and William of Conversano and many others of his supporters were captured. Then, laments the chronicler, “the proud Normans blushed for shame that they, who had been the conquerors of barbarous foreign nations, should now be vanquished and put to flight by one of their own sons in the very heart of their own country.” Robert of Bellême is said to have aspired to the conquest of the whole duchy. Many of the Normans who hitherto had resisted him now felt constrained to bow their necks beneath the yoke, and joined the tyrant for the sake of their own safety. Pressing his advantage home, he now gained possession of Exmes.[22] The discomfiture of the duke was complete, and he had no choice but to conclude a peace with his too powerful subject upon humiliating terms.[23]

Bishop Serlo of Séez and Ralph, abbot of Saint-Martin of Séez, unable any longer to bear the oppression of the tyrant, withdrew from their posts and crossed over to England, where they were cordially welcomed by Henry I.[24] They were to be of no small service to the king in the shaping of his future policy.

While the diocese of Séez was a prey to the indescribable confusion of the struggle with Robert of Bellême, the Évrecin was not spared the horrors of a private war. There the death of William of Breteuil[25] without legitimate issue,[26] and a consequent disputed succession, had reopened an ancient local feud.[27] While William was being buried at Lire, a natural son named Eustace seized his lands and occupied the strongholds.[28] But a nephew named Renaud, of the illustrious Burgundian house of Grancey, claimed the succession as legitimate heir. Many of the Normans preferred a fellow countryman, though a bastard, to a foreigner, and supported Eustace. But the ancient enemies of Breteuil rallied around the Burgundian. William of Évreux led the movement, and was promptly joined by Ralph of Conches, Amaury de Montfort, and Ascelin Goël.[29] But Eustace was supported by loyal and powerful vassals; and when he saw that he could not win single-handed, he appealed for aid to Henry I, who was quick to realize the advantages which the Breteuil succession controversy offered for the inauguration of a far-reaching policy of intervention in the internal affairs of Normandy. The king not only promised Eustace the desired assistance, but he gave him the hand of Juliana, one of his natural daughters, in marriage.[30] And further, he sent his able and trusted minister, Robert of Meulan—who as lord of Beaumont had special interests in the disturbed district—to Normandy to deal personally with the situation and to warn Robert Curthose and the Normans barons that unless they supported his son-in-law and drove out the foreign intruder, they would incur his royal displeasure. With such powerful backing, Eustace of Breteuil gradually got the better of his rival—who waged the war with such disgusting cruelty that he alienated many of his adherents—and finally made himself master of the whole of his father’s honor, and expelled the foreigner from the land.[31]

It was one thing to expel the foreigner; it was quite another to overcome the local enemies of Breteuil who had rallied around the intruder for the sake of their own advantage. With these, Robert of Meulan undertook to deal, and he found them aggressive enemies, if more nearly bandits and robbers than warriors. Ascelin Goël, whose prison walls at Ivry had on a former occasion closed around William of Breteuil, ambushed and captured a certain John of Meulan, a rich burgess and usurer, when he was returning from a conference with his lord, the count of Beaumont. For four months the ‘avaricious usurer’ lay in Ascelin’s gaol. Doubtless the financial resources of the wealthy burgess were of no small concern to Robert of Meulan, and he made frantic efforts to procure his release. But try as he might, he could not extract him from the ‘wolf’s mouth.’ Finally he was obliged to conclude a peace with William of Évreux, betrothing his infant daughter Adelina to William’s nephew Amaury de Montfort. Ralph of Conches, Eustace of Breteuil, Ascelin Goël, and the other belligerent lords were included in the pacification, and John of Meulan, the usurer, was set at liberty.[32]

It is not recorded that Robert Curthose interfered in any way in this private war, or made any effort to suppress it. Perhaps he was at the time wholly occupied by the struggle with Robert of Bellême, or perhaps he may already have been on his way to England on a mission of intercession for a friend. But before following him again across the Channel, we must take some account of his domestic affairs.

The Norman heiress, Sibyl of Conversano, whom Robert brought back with him from Italy to be duchess of Normandy, has been universally praised for her surpassing beauty, refinement of manners, and excellent qualities.[33] Though she may have had a few private enemies, she enjoyed a great popularity; and Robert of Torigny affirms that at times during the duke’s absence she was entrusted with the administration of the duchy, and that in this capacity she was more successful than her husband.[34] But her beneficent career of usefulness was short indeed. Soon after the birth of her only child,[35] William the Clito, she died at Rouen,[36] and was buried, amid universal sorrow, in the cathedral church, Archbishop William Bonne-Ame performing the obsequies.[37]

The cause of Sibyl’s death is shrouded in mystery. William of Malmesbury reports simply that she died shortly after the birth of her son, as the result of foolish advice given by the midwife.[38] But Ordericus Vitalis does not spare us a dark scandal. According to him Agnes de Ribemont, sister of the distinguished crusader, had recently been left a widow by the death of her husband Walter Giffard, and, becoming infatuated with Robert Curthose, had entangled him in the snares of illicit love. By undertaking to gain for him the aid of her powerful family connections against his numerous enemies, she obtained from him a promise that, upon the death of his wife, he would marry her and intrust her with the administration of the duchy. Soon after, the beautiful Sibyl took to her bed and died of poison.[39] It seems almost incredible that this tale should be anything but a malicious libel got up by some of the duke’s unscrupulous enemies. Duchess Sibyl was probably already dead before Agnes de Ribemont became a widow. But in the chaotic chronology of the early chapters of the eleventh book of Ordericus Vitalis, it is impossible to speak with any assurance, and a dark saying of Robert of Torigny may possibly lend some color to the scandalous tale.[40]

It would seem that with domestic bereavement, and the distractions of rebellion and private war, Robert Curthose had enough to occupy him within the limits of his duchy. Yet it was apparently during this critical period that a foolish impulse of generosity towards a friend led him to embark upon an enterprise which resulted in further humiliation and disaster. William of Warenne, one of the barons who had been deprived of his possessions and honors in England after the failure of the invasion of 1101, came to the duke to complain that through loyalty to his cause he had lost the great earldom of Surrey with its annual revenue of 1000 pounds, and besought him to intercede with King Henry in order that he might regain the earldom and the royal favor. Apparently the duke had not yet realized the character of his unscrupulous brother, or the hostile plans which Henry was maturing against him, and he readily consented to William of Warenne’s request.[41]

It must have been towards the end of the year 1103 that Duke Robert crossed the Channel with a small suite of knights and squires and landed at Southampton.[42] Henry I was quick to realize the advantages of the situation, and with perfect unscrupulousness he determined to use them to the utmost. Feigning great indignation that Robert had presumed to enter his dominions without permission and a safe-conduct, he sent his agents—Robert of Meulan seems to have been chiefly charged with the enterprise[43]—to intimate to him that he was in grave danger of capture and imprisonment. The duke was taken completely by surprise. He had no armed force at his back. He was, in fact, at the king’s mercy, although the externals of an honorable reception were accorded him, and he was conducted to the royal court, where negotiations were carried on in private. Henry charged him with a violation of the treaty of Alton in that, instead of punishing traitors with the rigor befitting a prince, he had made peace with Robert of Bellême and had confirmed him in the possession of certain of their father’s domains. The duke, appreciating his helplessness in the situation in which he found himself, humbly promised to make amends; but the king now informed him that he desired something more than this—indeed, that he would not permit him to quit the realm until he had surrendered his claim to the annual subsidy of 3000 marks which was due him under the terms of the treaty of Alton. In order that this crowning humiliation might be cloaked in a garb of decency, the duke was allowed to see the queen, his god-daughter, and to relinquish the subsidy as if at her request.[44] But this clever play upon his chivalrous nature could not conceal the character of the transaction. Robert in his ineffable simplicity had been treacherously taken and robbed. According to William of Malmesbury, the king had even gone the length of inducing him to come to England by a special invitation.[45] However this may be, and whatever the uncertainty about the details of this episode, the sources are agreed as to the character of the part which the king had played in it.[46] Wace avers that it was only then that Robert began to realize that his brother hated him.[47]