The Castle of Otranto

These chapters introduce the novella’s central philosophical conflict: whether one man’s political power is stronger than divine intervention. The resolution of the ancient prophecy that threatens Manfred’s rule over Otranto undergirds Walpole’s commentary on the role of religious belief in tempering political institutions.

Otranto is clearly plagued by a tyrant who browbeats his wife and daughter, sentences underlings to death without merit, and clings to power at all costs. Seemingly only the supernatural curse that Otranto will fall out of Manfred’s power threatens his absolute control over the castle and its inhabitants. However, Chapters 3 and 4 make it clear that Manfred is subject to Christian morality. When the black feathers on the mysterious helmet that killed his son start moving in response to Manfred’s baseless accusation of a peasant, Father Jerome explains that “heaven is no doubt displeased with your mockery of its servants. Submit yourself to the church; […] Dismiss this innocent youth; and learn to respect the holy character I wear. Heaven will not be trifled with” (53). Later, when Manfred chastises Father Jerome and his religious beliefs for harboring Isabella, the monk rebukes Manfred and threatens him with excommunication: “Profane Prince! […] Manfred, thy impious schemes are known. […] The Church despises thy menaces. Her thunders will be heard above thy wrath” (94-95). Backed by the Church, Father Jerome has the authority to oppose Manfred.

Similarly, while they are unable to exercise any power over Manfred, Hippolita and Matilda turn to divine intervention as the only possible curb on his excesses. When Manfred seeks to preserve his political power as ruler of Otranto by divorcing and nearly killing his wife, Hippolita is resigned to honoring her husband’s commands, asking only to be allowed to take religious vows after Manfred leaves her. However, Hippolita does believe that a higher power could stop Manfred: She tells Matilda to pray to Alfonso the Good and immediately accepts that “Frederic was destined by heaven to accomplish the fate that seemed to threaten her house” (77). Under any power structure, Hippolita has almost no agency or ability to make decisions for herself, but she believes that Christian submission is better than patriarchal capitulation: “heaven does nothing in vain; mortals must receive its divine behests with lowliness and submission. It is our part to deprecate its wrath, or bow to its decrees” (78). Hippolita believes the supernatural events that are occurring and recognizes that Manfred’s grip on Otranto is slipping.

These chapters make it easy to see why the novella’s original readers believed Walpole’s work to be the translation of an earlier text: He borrows heavily from the generic traditions of courtly romances for both plot and characterization. The intervention of Frederic’s knights, their adventures and battle in the forest, and, in particular, the several interpolated tales in which characters reveal their origins and explain the extremely unlikely chains of events that brought them to where they are now are all standard features of medieval chivalric romances like Ludovico Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso (1516) and Thomas Malory's Morte d'Arthur (15th century). The novella’s resolution, which rests the revelation of hereditary connections, unlikely coincidences, and the supernatural, also show Walpole’s debt to this earlier genre.