University of Virginia Library

PREFACE.

Hildebrand, a monk, and the son of a carpenter of Soano, in Tuscany, was born A. D. 1013. He raised himself to power in the Church; through his influence successively deposed two Popes, and elected two others; smote the last of these in the face during high Mass, because his Holiness had acknowledged the authority of the Emperor; ascended the Papal chair himself, by forcing his own election; established the supremacy of the Church over all other sovereignties; and created a new system of things, which endured nearly five hundred years after his death.

Short of stature, but deep-built as a temple wall, I have supposed Gregory to possess great physical, as well as mental, powers. Of his character and actions, this is not the place to speak. The period of his death is ante-dated by dramatic license, and its circumstances may easily be imagined as coincident with his fall from supreme dominion. Such an end seemed very natural for one who had previously both wielded and directed “the sword of the Lord and of Gideon,” and who, after the final struggle which terminated his individual power—although it completed, in every sense, his

victory—with passionate eloquence celebrated Mass for the last time as Pope, while the blood was streaming around. This was, virtually, the scene of his final triumph and death; nor did he actually survive it long.

With regard to the historical character of Gregory VII., as well as many of the most important actions and events of his life, historians frequently contradict each other and themselves. According to some writers, he was all devilishness and “black art;” with others he was a lofty saint; but few of them deny that he was a great man, if not a greater conqueror, in his way, than the Alexanders and Cæsars. The best connected accounts will, however, be found in “The Life and Pontificate of Gregory VII.,” by Sir Roger Greisley, 1832; —“Histoire des Republiques Italiennes,” by Sismondi;—in Bayle's Dictionary, &c. See also “Historical development of the German Empire,” by Putter, 1790.

Of the death of Pope Alexander by assassination, no proof exists, and the best authorities seem against it. But after being subjected to the indignity of a blow, while in full pontifical state, and then locked up in a cell with orders to fast and pray, any ultimate violence might have been expected from one like Hildebrand, who was waiting for his absence. On the day of Alexander's burial (some say on the day of his death), Hildebrand caused himself to be elected to the pontifical chair. But should my version of the matter be thought to cast an undeserved stain upon the memory of Gregory VII., be it recollected that his were most turbulent times; that frequent insurrections occurred, which were originated, fomented, and headed by the priests opposed to Gregory, and that numbers of priests were killed in various ways—though it might be invidious, as well as presumptuous, to say how many should be considered as equivalent to a Pope. In short, I am willing to acknowledge the “dark-dealing” with Alexander as a kind of dramatic concentration of these events. The death of

Godfrey, however, seems to have circumstantial evidence of considerable strength. But as for the different versions of an attempt said to have been made by Gregory to destroy the Emperor by causing a great stone to be “so ordered and trimmed” that it might be dropped upon his head while he was praying before a shrine in the church of Santa Maria, they all appear fabulous. Many more wonderful things of Gregory than this are both gravely and furiously narrated by Cardinal Beno, “arche-priest of cardinals,” and the mad-headed little work was translated and published in the black letter, by “Wynkyn de Worde, Flete Street, 1534.” A copy of this is to be found in the British Museum.

All the characters in the present tragedy are historical, although nothing is to be discovered in history of some of them beyond their names and the side on which they ranged themselves during the mighty contests between the Papal and Imperial powers. Justice has been morally aimed at for all; and should any reader, learned in their histories, feel disposed to make an exception with reference to certain points in the character, conduct, and assumed fate of the noble and disinterested Matilda, I can only exhort him to a yet more careful consideration of the known circumstances of her life; of the opinions current among her contemporaries; and to make those deductions of the imagination as well as the reason, which such data naturally suggest.

Notwithstanding their manifest originality, I should have been glad had the striking situations in this tragedy—I may say this, as they are, for the most part, not my invention— been somewhat reduced in number and brilliancy.

“We may not hope from outward forms to win,
The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.”

But the truth is, that the very nature of the subject rendered much of this imperative as a matter of art, for the

just presentation of the given characters and events. Most of the external situations and effects have been selected, moulded, and grouped from historical facts, with such poetical licenses as the general structure of the whole demanded.

For very important assistance in the revision of these pages, I have to express myself gratefully indebted to the judgment, refined taste, and kindness of my friends Mr. Leigh Hunt and Mr. John Forster.

And now, if it be permissible that one of “modern earth” should attempt the expression of primitive feelings, at a period when the world's heart has been declared by certain able and influential writers, to be comparatively exhausted, let it not be thought irreverent to appropriate the uplifting prayer of the old inspired poet, George Chapman,—bearing, as it does, in conclusion, that solemn moral corrective to all boundless aspirations, whether Gregorian or artistical, which terminates the prospect of a few years:—

“Loose my working soul!
That in her highest pitch she may controul
The court of skill; compact of mystery;
Wanting but franchisement and memory,
To reach all secrets! [OMITTED]
And he who shewed such great presumption,
Is hidden now beneath a little stone!”