INTRODUCTION.

I.

But

MONG the cities of the Old World famous for their beauty none has the city of flowers, situated in the heart of Tuscany, on the banks of the river Arno. beauty is not the only claim that Florence has to the love and reverence of mankind. No city ever built by the hand of man has exerted a more mighty influence on that form of civilization which finds expression in the arts of painting, architecture, and sculpture. Of the long line of famous men which Florence can boast of, — Giotto, Fra Angelico, Michael Angelo, Macchiavelli, Savonarola, the greatest of all is Dante Alighieri. Even to-day the city is full of reminiscences of the great poet. In the square of the cathedral you can see the old Church of St. John, -"il mio bel San Giovanni," Dante calls it, — which was the chief church of Florence in his day. Near by Giotto's tower they still showed not long ago a stone where the poet was said to have sat and watched the building of the tower; "Sasso di Dante" was the inscription upon it. As one walks along the narrow street of San Martino his eyes rest by chance on a tall, narrow stone building, and the words over the door, "Casa di Dante," tell you that this was the birthplace of the poet. Not far off is the church where the poet was married to Gemma Donati, while a few streets away is the site of the palace of Folco Portinari, the father of Beatrice.

Dante Alighieri was born in dark and troublous times. The year after his birth, 1266, is memorable as the date of the battle of Benevento, where Charles of Anjou conquered Manfred and destroyed forever the power of the Hohenstaufens. It may not be out of place here to say a word or two concerning the history of the times; some general idea of them is indispensable to a clear conception of the life and works of Dante. The story of the fall of the Roman empire and of the invasion of barbarians from the North is too well known to need more than mention. Out of the materials that survived the wreck of empires, the remnants of the Italian people, together with the Lombards, Goths, and Vandals, formed a new

order of society. Toward the ninth century cities began to rebuild their walls. Industry, arts, agriculture, which had lain dormant for so many years, began to give signs of awakening life. With the growth of the cities came hostility between them and the nobles. The latter had lived for the most part in mountain fortresses until the prosperity of the towns allured them thither.

There were two rival powers in Italy during the Middle Ages who claimed sovereignty over all—the pope and the German emperors, who since the days of Charlemagne claimed to be the heirs of the old Roman empire. Until the election of Pope Gregory VII., in the eleventh century, no one had questioned the supremacy of the German emperor. This pontiff, who was a man of boundless ambition, and who changed the whole spirit of popedom, claimed the right of investing the German bishops, a right hitherto remaining in the hands of the emperor. There is no need of reviewing the oft-told story of the ruthless war waged by Hildebrand against Henry IV.- how he hurled the anathemas of the Church and set son against father, and how he crowned his haughty arrogance by that famous scene at Canossa, where the ruler of the western world stood three days in the snow outside the castle walls, until it might please his holiness, the bishop of souls, to grant him his presence. Suffice it to say that from this struggle over the investiture of bishops arose those endless wars between Guelphs and Ghibellines. Every city in Italy was divided into two parties the Guelphs, who espoused the cause of the pope, and the Ghibellines, who sided with the emperor. Owing to this constant state of warfare houses were built like fortresses, with thick walls, high, narrow windows, and doors of massive oak. In times of conflict chains were drawn across the streets, barricades thrown up, and murder and pillage ran riot.

The political complexion of various cities changed from time to time as the parties rose or fell. At times the Guelphs had the upper hand and drove out the Ghibellines; and then the rôles were changed, and the Guelphs were exiled in their turn. These different parties after a time lost their original significance as partisans of pope or emperor, and often represented only private quarrels. Great families were at feud with one another. Thus, in Florence, the terrible disorders of the Whites and Blacks, the Bianchi and the Neri, — which finally engulfed Dante in ruin, had their origin in a private quarrel. The principal families of the city at this time were the Buondelmonti and Amidei, the Uberti and Donati. A half century before Dante's birth one of the Buondelmonti, who was a Guelph, had been engaged to a daughter of the Amidei, a Ghibelline family. Urged by a widow of the house of Donati, however, he broke his engagement and married the daughter of the widow, who belonged to the same political party as himself. The Amidei, deeply

insulted, lay in wait for the young Buondelmonti and slew him on the Ponte Vecchio, at the foot of the statue of Mars. The whole city was immediately thrown into a state of warfare; family was arrayed against family, and fierce encounters took place in the streets. Hardly a day passed without swords being drawn, the tocsin sounding, and bloody brawls taking place in the streets. This party hatred became so fierce

that once, after the battle of Monte Aperti, in 1260, when the river Arbia ran red with blood, the victorious Ghibellines seriously considered the advisability of razing Florence to the ground and building a new city at Empoli, a small town on the road from Florence to Pisa. It was Farinata degli Uberti, one of the most distinguished warriors and eloquent orators of his time, who successfully opposed this plan.

But in spite of war and bloodshed, of constant change of government and magistrates, the city grew greater and richer. It was the money centre of Europe, commerce flourished, and art in its noblest expression had its cradle there. At the time Dante was born the appearance of the city was not the same as it is now. The Duomo, Giotto's tower, the Palazzo Vecchio, and the Church of Santa Croce had not yet been built; but before he died all this noble cluster of buildings had been begun. Life was gay and brilliant. The contado was cultivated by active peasants; the city possessed thick walls, strong towers, and streets flagged with stones. Old Giovanni Villani, in his chronicle of Florence, dwells upon the luxury and display of the citizens.

It has often been claimed that the family of Dante was a noble one, and that he was descended from one of the patrician families of Rome. We cannot, however, trace his ancestry further than the twelfth century—to that Cacciaguida whom the poet meets in the heaven of Mars and who foretells to him his future woes.

The family of his mother, Donna Bella, was likewise of obscure origin. All authorities agree that Dante Alighieri was born in May, 1265. We know but little about his early life, his experience at home and school, and the friends he made. The testimony of Boccaccio is looked upon with suspicion by Dante scholars. He tells us that the boy Dante did not join in childish sports and frolics, but gave himself up to the study of the liberal arts, in which he became marvellously expert. It is probable he obtained most of his knowledge from books without a teacher, although a passage in the Inferno, where the poet speaks of the "dear paternal image" of Brunetto Latini, has led some to conclude that the author of the Tesoro was his teacher. Even this, however, must remain in doubt.

But although we know so little of the facts of his early life, we can form a good idea of his character, both from his own writings and the opinions of the early biographers. We know that he was a man of keen intellect, and yet of extreme sensitiveness of feeling; he loved equally to bury him

self in mysticism and to struggle with the intricate problems of the scholastic philosophy. Giovanni Villani says that by reason of his knowledge he was somewhat presumptuous and haughty, that he was never affable, and did not know how to converse with the unlearned. Dante shows himself in his works to possess wide and deep information. The Divine Comedy embraces all the science, philosophy, theology, and classical learning of the time. He was proud-spirited and full of contempt for all that degrades man. He gives up his dearest hopes rather than humble himself before injustice. But side by side with fierce hatred of his enemies we catch glimpses of tender pity and of soft compassion. The man who painted the wonderful pictures of Francesca da Rimini and Ugolino in the Tower of Hunger must have had a heart as tender and as easily touched as that of a woman.

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But Dante was not merely a man of books. He interested himself in politics, and was willing to give and take his share of hard blows when necessary. In the battle of Campaldino, June 11, 1289, in which the Guelphs of Florence defeated the Ghibellines of Arezzo, Dante was present, no child in arms," he says himself, "and I had much fear, but in the end the greatest joy, on account of the various events of the battle." About 1295 Dante married Gemma, the daughter of Manetto de' Donati. By this marriage he had several children. He is utterly silent concerning his family, wife, parents, brothers, children. We have no reason, however, for believing otherwise than that Gemma was virtuous and that his domestic life was happy. Perhaps she was “the gentle lady” who comforted the poet on the death of Beatrice, of which we shall speak later. She did not share his exile, nor was this possible at first, on account of the tender age of her children.

The Florentines, under the leadership of Giano della Bella, had passed laws to the effect that no noble or grandee should be eligible to the office of prior, the highest in the gift of the city. Every aspirant for office had to enroll himself in one of the guilds or professions. Dante at the age of thirty was enrolled in the guild of physicians and apothecaries, and in 1300 he was elected one of the priori. The office lasted only two months, yet it was the beginning for him of sorrows and misfortunes that were to end only with life itself. It was at this time that Pope Boniface VIII. sent Cardinal d'Acquasparta to pacify Florence. On being opposed by Dante and his colleagues, the pope in anger sent to France for Charles of Valois and bestowed on him the title of Pacificator of Italy. Charles entered Florence on the 1st of November, 1301, and treated it as a vanquished city. Houses were destroyed, goods were confiscated, and many citizens were banished. Among the latter was Dante, charged with being a forger and bribe-taker. On the 27th of January, 1302, he was condemned to pay a fine of five thousand florins. If the sum was not paid in three days his

goods were to be confiscated and destroyed; if it was paid he was still to be exiled two years from Tuscany. About forty days later he was charged, first, with not having obeyed the summons, and, secondly, with not having paid the fine. Therefore he was condemned to be burnt alive if ever he came within the jurisdiction of Florence. Years after, in 1311 and in 1315, his name was mentioned as that of a rebel and outlaw. Villani, the most trustworthy of all ancient authorities, says the only cause of his banishment was that he favored the White party, although nominally a Guelph. From this time on Dante separated himself from his family traditions and became a Ghibelline, or at least a supporter of the German emperor.

This exile must have been a terrible blow to Dante. He was still young, eager for honor and fame, and loved his native city with passionate devotion. And now at one fell stroke he was cut off from home and family, his property confiscated, and he himself, driven into ignominious banishment, forced to become a wanderer and a beggar on the face of the earth. No wonder that at first he devoted all his energies to endeavoring to re-enter Florence. The supreme desire of his life for three years was to return to the city where his family and his friends were and where he had passed his youth. But he soon became weary of the companions among whom fate had cast his lot fierce, scheming, unprincipled, the great family of bitter and disappointed partisans. He left them and, to use his own language, made a party for himself. His ancestor, Cacciaguida, in the nineteenth canto of the Paradise, while foretelling to him the trials of his exile, says, "Thou shalt prove how salt is the taste of others' bread, and how hard it is to descend and climb another's stairs; but that which most of all will weigh heavy on thy soul will be the evil and foolish companions whom thou shalt fall in with in this valley of exile." During these three years he is said to have written a letter to his fellow-citizens, full of pathetic pleading and beginning with the words, “O popule mi, quid feci tibi ?” — “ O my people, what have I done unto thee?" But neither tears nor entreaties, threats nor open warfare, could unlock the gates of the city to him who was destined to be the glory, not only of Florence, but of all Italy. He seems finally to have accepted his exile as inevitable and, like the strong man that he was, adapted his work to his life. Once only, years after, did a gleam of hope light up the dark path of the lonely wanderer. In 1308 Henry of Luxembourg ascended the throne of the empire, and in 1310 entered Italy, which had been neglected by her rulers for over fifty years. Dante, once more hoping to return to Florence, wrote a letter full of fierce reproach to the Florentines, and another letter to Henry, urging him to hurry on his work of regenerating Italy. Henry went from Genoa to Pisa, and thence to Rome, where he was crowned Emperor in 1312. Afterwards he besieged Florence, but meeting with no success, went on to Pisa and to Buonconvento, where he died August 24, 1313. After his death Italy, like

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