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Page 75
But where was Gilbert, that he could not share in the blessed feast?
The Middle Ages abound in characters better entitled to our
consideration and esteem than the classic magnates of Greece and Rome.
There is not in pagan antiquity such a combination of virtue, constancy,
fortitude, and valor as was presented in Matilda of Tuscany, "the
heroine of the Middle Ages." She devoted herself to the cause of the
Holy See as early as 1604, and her life was a series of sacrifices
cheerfully made for the security of the Church. While wondering at her
heroism, you love her for her charity, and revere her for her piety. Let
Catholics read her life, and they will embalm her in their hearts. Her
unvarnished actions are a nobler eulogy than even the unfading wreath
flung by a master's hand on the grave of the martyred Marie Antoinette.
At the time of the battle of the Elster, this pious defender of the
Faith was sorely pressed by the Lombards, who sided with the emperor.
The imperial troops had gained a victory at Mantua, which revived the
drooping royal cause.
When Gilbert de Hers parted from his father and friends, he turned his
horse's head to Matilda's camp. The partisans of the heroic princess
took little notice of the nameless knight who came among them without
follower or page, and whose shield was simply blazoned with an azure
cross. He was silent and reserved, shrinking from observation and mirth,
and either engaged in meditation or prayer.
The gloomy aspect of the future was also capable of furnishing the youth
with sufficient food for reflection. The death of Rodolph spread
consternation over Saxony and Suabia: both circles were crippled by
internal dissensions, and unable to profit by their victory. Inspired by
this, and by his rival's death, and encouraged by the attitude and
successes of the Lombards, Henry meditated an invasion of Italy, and the
conquest of Rome itself. He reorganized a powerful army, and penetrated
Lombardy, leaving Frederick of Hohenstaufen to hold Suabia in check,
while Saxony was convulsed by the rival schemes of Otto and Herman.
Never before had the Holy See seemed in such imminent danger. England
and France looked coldly on, and the emperor of the East sympathized
with his brother of Austria.
Gregory alone awaited the storm calm and fearless, relying upon the
sacredness and justice of his cause, neither dismayed nor discouraged by
the fickle course of human events. He deplored the spirit which arrayed
itself against truth, but he found in the recollection of the trials of
the Apostles and their successors abundant consolation for himself and
his friends. Florence, Padua, Cremona, Milan had fallen before the
Austrian invader. Lucca swelled the triumphs of the tyrant. Fortress
after fortress was wrested from Matilda; Henry sat down before the gates
of Rome at last, in the plains of Nero and opposite the fortress of St.
Peter. Yet the sublime Pontiff displayed no symptom of uneasiness,
though half of Europe was against him.
Gilbert's first impulse was to fly to Rome, but the approaches to the
city were all in possession of the enemy. The noble Matilda could ill
spare a good lance, and the Romans then displayed so much resolution and
gallantry, that the German army was repulsed in every assault. To the
young knight's heart, wounded by the siege of Rome and misfortunes of
Matilda, the tidings of the reconciliation at home were like a sweet
balsam. And though the blessed intelligence was blended with the account
of the Lady Margaret's death, it was not the less welcome. Gilbert had
long since ceased to regard the Lady Margaret with human love. He
revered her as one sacred to heaven, upon whom death had already set the
seal of eternity, and, far from weeping over her early grave, he exulted
at her triumphant flight to the judgment-seat of God.
Two long years crept by, and the imperialists were still before Rome.
Gilbert looked anxiously for succor to Suabia and Saxony, but the sudden
death of Otto of Nordheim laid his hopes in the dust, and Henry, for the
third time, invested the eternal city. Hitherto, the Romans, encouraged
by the Pope, had made an heroic resistance, and the besiegers had
suffered incredibly from their desperate sallies, as well as from the
diseases that decimated them. But the fidelity of the citizens was
beginning to totter beneath the protracted warfare, and many sighed for
a period to their calamities. Henry failed not to profit by these
dispositions, and poured in thirty thousand golden florins to inflame
them.
The horizon grew darker and darker--the Pope more winning, more
eloquent, more determined. Matilda did not fail him in this crisis. The
knight of the azure cross had already won the confidence of the princess
by his valor, his prudence, and his piety, and she now selected him as
the instrument of her generosity. She pointed to a large amount of
silver, saying that she intrusted him with the dangerous and difficult
duty of conveying it to Gregory. Gilbert gladly accepted the perilous
commission. He loaded a number of mules with the treasure, concealed
beneath vegetables, and disguising himself as a peasant, took a guide
and set out for Rome. During a dark and stormy night he contrived to
pierce the hostile lines and enter the city by the Lateran gate.
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