The unexpected arrival of Henry in Italy produced a great senation. Princes and bishops assembled in great numbers, and received him with the highest honors. The Italians looked to him for a redress of their grievances. Those who had been excommunicated by Hildebrand looked eagerly for vengeance; and the Lombard nobility and the prelates hoped that he was come to depose the dreaded and detested Gregory. As he moved onwards the number of his followers gradually increased; but Henry could not pause to plunge himself into any new scheme; he could not imperil the throne of Germany; he must obtain absolution before the fatal 23rd of February.
In the meantime Gregory had set out for Germany, but the news of Henry's descent into Italy arrested his march. He was uncertain whether he had come as a humble suppliant, or at the head of a great army, and hastened to place his person in safety at Canosa, a strong castle in the Apennine mountains, belonging to his faithful friend and ally, the "great countess" Matilda.
Bishops and abbots who had fallen under the papal ban followed the king's example, and hastened to Canosa. With naked feet, and clothed in sackcloth, they presented themselves before the pontiff, humbly imploring pardon and absolution from the dire anathema. After a few days' penance in solitary confinement, and with scanty fare, he absolved them, on condition that, until the king should be reconciled, they were to have no intercourse with him. For Henry himself more humiliating terms were reserved.
On arriving at Canosa, the king obtained an interview with Matilda, the Marchioness Adelaide (his mother-in-law), and Hugh, abbot of Cluny, and engaged their intercession with the pope for a merciful consideration of his case. After many objections raised by the implacable pope, and pleas urged by Henry's friends, Gregory at length proposed, "that if he be truly penitent, let him place his crown, and all the ensigns of royalty, in my hands, and openly confess himself unworthy of the royal name and dignity." This demand seemed too hard, even to the ardent admirers of the pope, who entreated him "not to break the bruised reed;" and in condescension to their importunities, he promised to give the king an interview.