CHAPTER I
YOUTH
Assisi is to-day very much what it was six or seven hundred years ago.
The feudal castle is in ruins, but the aspect of the city is just the
same. Its long-deserted streets, bordered by ancient houses, lie in
terraces half-way up the steep hill-side. Above it Mount Subasio[1]
proudly towers, at its feet lies outspread all the Umbrian plain from
Perugia to Spoleto. The crowded houses clamber up the rocks like
children a-tiptoe to see all that is to be seen; they succeed so well
that every window gives the whole panorama set in its frame of rounded
hills, from whose summits castles and villages stand sharply out against
a sky of incomparable purity.
These simple dwellings contain no more than five or six little
rooms,[2] but the rosy hues of the stone of which they are built give
them a wonderfully cheerful air. The one in which, according to the
story, St. Francis was born has almost entirely disappeared, to make
room for a church; but the street is so modest, and all that remains of
the _palazzo dei genitori di San Francesco_ is so precisely like the
neighboring houses that the tradition must be correct. Francis entered
into glory in his lifetime; it would be surprising if a sort of worship
had not from the first been centred around the house in which he saw the
light and where he passed the first twenty-five years of his life.
He was born about 1182.[3] The biographies have preserved to us few
details about his parents.[4] His father, Pietro Bernardone, was a
wealthy cloth-merchant. We know how different was the life of the
merchants of that period from what it is to-day. A great portion of
their time was spent in extensive journeys for the purchase of goods.
Such tours were little short of expeditions. The roads being insecure, a
strong escort was needed for the journey to those famous fairs where,
for long weeks at a time, merchants from the most remote parts of Europe
were gathered together. In certain cities, Montpellier for example, the
fair was perpetual. Benjamin of Tudela shows us that city frequented by
all nations, Christian and Mohammedan. "One meets there merchants from
Africa, from Italy, Egypt, Palestine, Greece, Gaul, Spain, and England,
so that one sees men of all languages, with the Genoese and the Pisans."
Among all these merchants the richest were those who dealt in textile
stuffs. They were literally the bankers of the time, and their heavy
wagons were often laden with the sums levied by the popes in England or
France.
Their arrival at a castle was one of the great events. They were kept as
long as possible, everyone being eager for the news they brought. It is
easy to understand how close must have been their relations with the
nobility; in certain countries, Provence for example, the merchants were
considered as nobles of a second order.[5]
Bernardone often made these long journeys; he went even as far as
France, and by this we must surely understand Northern France, and
particularly Champagne, which was the seat of commercial exchange
between Northern and Southern Europe.
He was there at the very time of his son's birth. The mother, presenting
the child at the font of San Rufino,[6] had him baptized by the name of
John, but the father on his return chose to call him Francis.[7] Had
he already determined on the education he was to give the child; did he
name him thus because he even then intended to bring him up after the
French fashion, to make a little Frenchman of him? It is by no means
improbable. Perhaps, indeed, the name was only a sort of grateful homage
tendered by the Assisan burgher to his noble clients beyond the Alps.
However this may be, the child was taught to speak French, and always
had a special fondness for both the language and the country.[8]
These facts about Bernardone are of real importance; they reveal the
influences in the midst of which Francis grew up. Merchants, indeed,
play a considerable part in the religious movements of the thirteenth
century. Their calling in some sense forced them to become colporters of
ideas. What else could they do, on arriving in a country, but answer
those who asked for news? And the news most eagerly looked for was
religious news, for men's minds were turned upon very different subjects
then from now. They accommodated themselves to the popular wish,
observing, hearkening everywhere, keeping eyes and ears open, glad to
find anything to tell; and little by little many of them became active
propagandists of ideas concerning which at first they had been simply
curious.
The importance of the part thus played by the merchants as they came
and went, everywhere sowing the new ideas which they had gathered up in
their travels, has not been put in a clear enough light; they were
often, unconsciously and quite involuntarily, the carriers of ideas of
all kinds, especially of heresy and rebellion. It was they who made the
success of the Waldenses, the Albigenses, the Humiliati, and many other
sects.
Thus Bernardone, without dreaming of such a thing, became the artisan of
his son's religious vocation. The tales which he brought home from his
travels seemed at first, perhaps, not to have aroused the child's
attention, but they were like germs a long time buried, which suddenly,
under a warm ray of sunlight, bring forth unlooked-for fruit.
The boy's education was not carried very far;[9] the school was in
those days overshadowed by the church. The priests of San Giorgio were
his teachers,[10] and taught him a little Latin. This language was
spoken in Umbria until toward the middle of the thirteenth century;
every one understood it and spoke it a little; it was still the language
of sermons and of political deliberations.[11]
He learned also to write, but with less success; all through his life we
see him take up the pen only on rare occasions, and for but a few
words.[12] The autograph of Sacro-Convento, which appears to be
entirely authentic, shows extreme awkwardness; in general he dictated,
signing his letters by a simple [Greek: tau], the symbol of the cross of
Jesus.[13]
That part of his education which was destined to have most influence
upon his life was the French language,[14] which he perhaps spoke in his
own family. It has been rightly said that to know two languages is to
have two souls; in learning that of France the boy felt his heart thrill
to the melody of its youthful poetry, and his imagination was
mysteriously stirred with dreams of imitating the exploits of the French
cavaliers.
But let us not anticipate. His early life was that of other children of
his age. In the quarter of the town where his house is still shown no
vehicles are ever seen; from morning till night the narrow streets are
given over to the children. They play there in many groups, frolicking
with an exquisite charm, very different from the little Romans, who,
from the time they are six or seven years old, spend hours at a time
squatting behind a pillar, or in a corner of a wall or a ruin, to play
dice or "morra," putting a passionate ferocity even into their play.
In Umbria, as in Tuscany, children love above all things games in which
they can make a parade; to play at soldiers or procession is the supreme
delight of Assisan children. Through the day they keep to the narrow
streets, but toward evening they go, singing and dancing, to one of the
open squares of the city. These squares are one of the charms of Assisi.
Every few paces an interval occurs between the houses looking toward the
plain, and you find a delightful terrace, shaded by a few trees, the
very place for enjoying the sunset without losing one of its splendors.
Hither no doubt came often the son of Bernardone, leading one of those
_farandoles_ which you may see there to this day: from his very babyhood
he was a prince among the children.
Thomas of Celano draws an appalling picture of the education of that
day. He describes parents inciting their children to vice, and driving
them by main force to wrong-doing. Francis responded only too quickly to
these unhappy lessons.[15]
His father's profession and the possibly noble origin of his mother
raised him almost to the level of the titled families of the country;
money, which he spent with both hands, made him welcome among them. Well
pleased to enjoy themselves at his expense, the young nobles paid him a
sort of court. As to Bernardone, he was too happy to see his son
associating with them to be niggardly as to the means. He was miserly,
as the course of this history will show, but his pride and self-conceit
exceeded his avarice.
Pica, his wife, gentle and modest creature,[16] concerning whom the
biographers have been only too laconic, saw all this, and mourned over
it in silence, but though weak as mothers are, she would not despair of
her son, and when the neighbors told her of Francis's escapades, she
would calmly reply, "What are you thinking about? I am very sure that,
if it pleases God, he will become a good Christian."[17] The words were
natural enough from a mother's lips, but later on they were held to have
been truly prophetic.
How far did the young man permit himself to be led on? It would be
difficult to say. The question which, as we are told, tormented Brother
Leo, could only have suggested itself to a diseased imagination.[18]
Thomas of Celano and the Three Companions agree in picturing him as
going to the worst excesses. Later biographers speak with more
circumspection of his worldly career. A too widely credited story
gathered from Celano's narrative was modified by the chapter-general of
1260,[19] and the frankness of the early biographers was, no doubt, one
of the causes which most effectively contributed to their definitive
condemnation three years later.[20]
Their statements are in no sense obscure; according to them the son of
Bernardone not only patterned himself after the young men of his age, he
made it a point of honor to exceed them. What with eccentricities,
buffooneries, pranks, prodigalities, he ended by achieving a sort of
celebrity. He was forever in the streets with his companions, compelling
attention by his extravagant or fantastic attire. Even at night the
joyous company kept up their merrymakings, causing the town to ring
with their noisy songs.[21]
At this very time the troubadours were roaming over the towns of
Northern Italy[22] and bringing brilliant festivities and especially
Courts of Love into vogue. If they worked upon the passions, they also
made appeal to feelings of courtesy and delicacy; it was this that saved
Francis. In the midst of his excesses he was always refined and
considerate, carefully abstaining from every base or indecent
utterance.[23] Already his chief aspiration was to rise above the
commonplace. Tortured with the desire for that which is far off and
high,[24] he had conceived a sort of passion for chivalry, and fancying
that dissipation was one of the distinguishing features of nobility, he
had thrown himself into it with all his soul.
But he who, at twenty, goes from pleasure to pleasure with the heart not
absolutely closed to good, must now and then, at some turning of the
road, become aware that there are hungry folk, who could live a month on
what he spends in a few hours on frivolity. Francis saw them, and with
his impressionable nature for the moment forgot everything else. In
thought he put himself in their place, and it sometimes happened that he
gave them all the money he had about him and even his clothes.
One day he was busy with some customers in his father's shop, when a man
came in, begging for charity in the name of God. Losing his patience
Francis sharply turned him away; but quickly reproaching himself for his
harshness he thought, "What would I not have done if this man had asked
something of me in the name of a count or a baron? What ought I not to
have done when he came in the name of God? I am no better than a clown!"
Leaving his customers he ran after the beggar.[25]
Bernardone had been well pleased with his son's commercial aptitude in
the early days when the young man was first in his father's employ.
Francis was only too proficient in spending money; he at least knew well
how to make it.[26] But this satisfaction did not last long. Francis's
bad companions were exercising over him a most pernicious influence. The
time came when he could no longer endure to be separated from them; if
he heard their call, nothing could keep him, he would leave everything
and go after them.[27]
All this time political events were hurrying on in Umbria and Italy;
after a formidable struggle the allied republics had forced the empire
to recognize them. By the immortal victory of Legnano (May 29, 1176) and
the Peace of Constance (June 25, 1183) the Lombard League had wrested
from Frederick Barbarossa almost all the prerogatives of power; little
was left to the emperor but insignia and outward show.
From one end of the Peninsula to the other visions of liberty were
making hearts beat high. For an instant it seemed as if all Italy was
about to regain consciousness of its unity, was about to rise up as one
man and hurl the foreigner from its borders; but the rivalries of the
cities were too strong for them to see that local liberty without a
common independence is precarious and illusory. Henry VI., the successor
of Barbarossa (1183-1196), laid Italy under a yoke of iron; he might
perhaps in the end have assured the domination of the empire, if his
career had not been suddenly cut short by a premature death.
Yet he had not been able to put fetters upon ideas. The communal
movement which was shaking the north of France reverberated beyond the
Alps.
Although a city of second rank, Assisi had not been behind in the great
struggles for independence.[28] She had been severely chastised, had
lost her franchise, and was obliged to submit to Conrad of Suabia, Duke
of Spoleto, who from the heights of his fortress kept her in subjection.
But when Innocent III. ascended the pontifical throne (January 8, 1199)
the old duke knew himself to be lost. He made a tender to him of money,
men, his faith even, but the pontiff refused them all. He had no desire
to appear to favor the Tedeschi, who had so odiously oppressed the
country. Conrad of Suabia was forced to yield at mercy, and to go to
Narni to put his submission into the hands of two cardinals.
Like the practical folk that they were, the Assisans did not hesitate an
instant. No sooner was the count on the road to Narni than they rushed
to the assault of the castle. The arrival of envoys charged to take
possession of it as a pontifical domain by no means gave them pause. Not
one stone of it was left upon another.[29] Then, with incredible
rapidity they enclosed their city with walls, parts of which are still
standing, their formidable ruins a witness to the zeal with which the
whole population labored on them.
It is natural to think that Francis, then seventeen years old, was one
of the most gallant laborers of those glorious days, and it was perhaps
there that he gained the habit of carrying stones and wielding the
trowel which was destined to serve him so well a few years later.
Unhappily his fellow-citizens had not the sense to profit by their
hard-won liberty. The lower classes, who in this revolution had become
aware of their strength, determined to follow out the victory by taking
possession of the property of the nobles. The latter took refuge in
their fortified houses in the interior of the city, or in their castles
in the suburbs. The townspeople burned down several of the latter,
whereupon counts and barons made request of aid and succor from the
neighboring cities.
Perugia was at this time at the apogee of its power,[30] and had already
made many efforts to reduce Assisi to submission. It therefore received
the fugitives with alacrity, and making their cause its own, declared
war upon Assisi. This was in 1202. An encounter took place in the plain
about half way between the two cities, not far from _Ponte San
Giovanni_. Assisi was defeated, and Francis, who was in the ranks, was
made prisoner.[31]
The treachery of the nobles had not been universal; a few had fought
with the people. It was with them and not with the _popolani_ that
Francis, in consideration of the nobility of his manners,[32] passed the
time of his captivity, which lasted an entire year. He greatly
astonished his companions by his lightness of heart. Very often they
thought him almost crazy. Instead of passing his time in wailing and
cursing he made plans for the future, about which he was glad to talk to
any one who came along. To his fancy life was what the songs of the
troubadours had painted it; he dreamed of glorious adventures, and
always ended by saying: "You will see that one day I shall be adored by
the whole world."[33]
During these long months Francis must have been pretty rudely undeceived
with respect to those nobles whom from afar he had so heartily admired.
However that may be, he retained with them not only his frankness of
speech, but also his full freedom of action. One of them, a knight, had
always held aloof from the others, out of vanity and bad temper.
Francis, far from leaving him to himself, always showed him affection,
and finally had the joy of reconciling him with his fellow-captives.
A compromise was finally arrived at between the counts and the people of
Assisi. In November, 1203, the arbitrators designated by the two parties
announced their decision. The commons of Assisi were to repair in a
certain measure the damage done to the lords, and the latter agreed, on
their part, to make no further alliances without authorization of the
commons.[34] Rural serfage was maintained, which proves that the
revolution had been directed by the burghers, and for their own profit.
Ten years more were not, however, to elapse before the common people
also would succeed in achieving liberty. In this cause we shall again
see Francis fighting on the side of the oppressed, earning the title of
_Patriarch of religious democracy_ which has been accorded him by one of
his compatriots.[35]
The agreement being made the prisoners detained at Perugia were
released, and Francis returned to Assisi. He was twenty-two years old.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Eleven hundred and one metres above the level of the sea;
the plain around Assisi has an average of two hundred, and the
town of two hundred and fifty, metres above.
[2] As in the majority of Tuscan cities the dimensions of the
houses were formerly fixed by law.
[3] The biographies say that he died (October 3, 1226) in his
forty-fifth year. But the terms are not precise enough to make
the date 1181 improbable. For that matter the question is of
small importance. A Franciscan of Erfurt, about the middle of
the thirteenth century, fixes the date at 1182. Pertz, vol.
xxiv., p. 193.
[4] A number of different genealogies have been fabricated for
Francis; they prove only one thing, the wreck of the Franciscan
idea. How little they understood their hero, who thought to
magnify and glorify him by making him spring from a noble
family! "_Quæ rero_," says Father Suysken, S. J., "_de ejus
gentilitio insigni disserit Waddingus, non lubet mihi attingere.
Factis et virtutibus eluxit S. Franciscus non proavorum
insignibus aut titulis, quos nec desideravit_." (A. SS. p.
557a.) It could not be better said.
In the fourteenth century a whole cycle of legends had gathered
about his birth. It could not have been otherwise. They all grow
out of the story that tells of an old man who comes knocking at
the parents' door, begging them to let him take the infant in
his arms, when he announces that it will do great things. Under
this form the episode certainly presents nothing impossible, but
very soon marvellous incidents begin to gather around this
nucleus until it becomes unrecognizable. Bartholomew of Pisa has
preserved it in almost its primitive form. _Conform_., 28a 2.
Francis certainly had several brothers [3 Soc., 9. _Mater_ ...
_quæ cum præ ceteris filiis diligebat_], but they have left no
trace in history except the incident related farther on. Vide p.
44. Christofani publishes several official pieces concerning
_Angelo_, St. Francis's brother, and his descendants: _Storie
d'Assisi_, vol. i., p. 78 ff. In these documents Angelo is called
_Angelus Pice_, and his son _Johannectus olim Angeli domine
Pice_, appellations which might be cited in favor of the noble
origin of Pica.
[5] Documentary History of Languedoc, iii., p. 607.
[6] The Cathedral of Assisi. To this day all the children of the
town are baptized there; the other churches are without fonts.
[7] 3 Soc., 1; 2 Cel., 1, 1. Vide also 3 Soc., edition of
Pesaro, 1831.
[8] The _langue d'oïl_ was at this epoch the international
language of Europe; in Italy it was the language of games and
tourneys, and was spoken in the petty princely courts of
Northern Italy. Vide Dante, _De vulgari eloquio_, lib. I., cap.
x. Brunetto Latini wrote in French because "the speech of France
is more delectable and more common to all people." At the other
end of Europe the Abbot of Stade, in Westphalia, spoke of the
_nobility of the Gallic dialect_. _Ann._ 1224 _apud_ Pertz,
Script. xvi. We shall find St. Francis often making allusions to
the tales of the Round Table and the _Chanson de Roland_.
[9] We must not be led astray by certain remarks upon his
ignorance, from which one might at first conclude that he knew
absolutely nothing; for example, 2 Cel., 3, 45: _Quamvis homo
iste beatus nullis fuerit scientiæ studiis innutritus_. This
evidently refers to science such as the Franciscans soon came to
apprehend it, and to theology in particular.
The close of the passage in Celano is itself an evident proof of
this.
[10] Bon., 219; Cf. A. SS., p. 560a. 1 Cel., 23.
[11] Ozanam, _Documents inédits pour servir à l'histoire
littéraire d'Italie du VIIIe au XIIIe siècle_. Paris, 1851, 8vo,
pp. 65, 68, 71, 73. Fauriel, _Dante et les origines de la
littérature italienne_. Paris, 1854, 2 vols., 8vo, ii., p. 332,
379, 429.
[12] V. 3 Soc., 51 and 67; 2 Cel., 3, 110; Bon., 55; 2 Cel., 3,
99; Eccl., 6. Bernard de Besse, Turin MS., fo. 96a, calls
Brother Leo the secretary of St. Francis.
[13] See page 357, n. 8. Bon., 51 and 308.
[14] 1 Cel., 16; 3 Soc., 10; 23; 24; 33; 2 Cel., 1, 8; 3, 67.
See also the Testament of St. Clara and the Speculum, 119a.
[15] _Primum namque cum fari vel balbutire incipiunt, turpia
quædam et execrabilia valde signis et vocibus edocentur pueri ii
nondum nati: et cum tempus ablactationis advenerit quædam luxu
et lascivia plena non solum fari sed et operari coguntur.... Sed
et cum paulo plusculum ætate profecerint, se ipsis impellentibus,
semper ad deteriora opera dilabuntur._ 1 Cel., 1.
[16] 2 Cel., 1. Cf. _Conform._, 14a, 1. There is nothing
impossible in her having been of Provençal origin, but there is
nothing to indicate it in any document worthy of credence. She
was no doubt of noble stock, for official documents always give
her the title _Domina_. Cristofani I., p. 78 ff. Cf. _Matrem
honestissimam habuit_. 3 Soc., Edition of Pesaro, 1831, p. 17.
[17] The reading given by the _Conform_., 14a, 1, _Meritorum
gratia dei filium ipsum noveritis affuturum_, seems better than
that of 2 Cel., 1, 1, _Multorum gratia Dei filiorum patrem ipsum
noveritis affuturum_. Cf. 3 Soc., 2.
[18] Bernardo of Besse, Turin MS., 102 b.: _An integer carne
desiderans ... quod non extorsisset a Sancto ... meruit obtinere
a Deo quod virgo esset_. Cf. _Conform_., 211a, 1, and A. SS., p.
560f.
[19] "_In illa antiphona quæ incipit: Hic vir in vanitatibus
nutritus insolenter, fiat talis mutatis: Divinis karismatibus
preventus est clementer." Archiv._, vi., p. 35.
[20] Vide p. 395, the decision of the chapter of 1263 ordaining
the destruction of legends earlier than that of Bonaventura.
[21] 1 Cel., 1 and 2; 89; 3 Soc., 2. Cf. A. SS., 560c. Vincent
of Beauvais, _Spec. hist. lib._, 29, cap. 97.
[22] Pierre Vidal was at the court of Boniface, Marquis of
Montferrat, about 1195, and liked his surroundings so well that
he desired to establish himself there. K. Bartsch, _Piere
Vidal's Lieder_, Berlin, 1857, n. 41. Ern. Monaci, _Testi
antichi provenzali_, Rome, 1889, col. 67. One should read this
piece to have an idea of the fervor with which this poet shared
the hopes of Italy and desired its independence. This political
note is found again in a _tenzon_ of Manfred II. Lancia,
addressed to Pierre Vidal. (V. Monaci, _loc. cit._, col.
68.)--Gaucelme Faidit was also at this court as well as Raimbaud
of Vacqueyras (1180-1207).--Folquet de Romans passed nearly all
his life in Italy. Bernard of Ventadour (1145-1195), Peirol of
Auvergne (1180-1220), and many others abode there a longer or
shorter time. Very soon the Italians began to sing in Provençal,
among others this Manfred Lancia, and Albert Marquis of
Malaspina (1162-1210), Pietro della Caravana, who in 1196
stirred up the Lombard towns against Henry VI., Pietro della
Mula, who about 1200 was at the court of Cortemiglia. Fragments
from these poets may be found in Monaci, _op. cit._, col. 69 ff.
[23] Soc., 3; 2 Cel., 1, 1.
[24] _Cum esset gloriosus animo et nollet aliquem se
præcellere_, Giord. 20.
[25] 1 Cel., 17; 3 Soc., 3; Bon., 7. Cf. A. SS., p. 562.
[26] 1 Cel., 2; Bon., 6; _Vit. sec. apud_, A. SS., p. 560.
[27] 3 Soc., 9.
[28] In 1174 Assisi was taken by the chancellor of the empire,
Christian, Archbishop of Mayence. A. Cristofani, i., p. 69.
[29] All these events are related in the _Gesta Innocentii III.
ab auctore coætaneo_, edited by Baluze: Migne, _Inn. op._, vol.
i., col. xxiv. See especially the letter of Innocent,
_Rectoribus Tusciæ: Mirari cogimur_, of April 16, 1198. Migne,
vol. i., col. 75-77. Potthast, No. 82.
[30] See Luigi Bonazzi, _Storia di Perugia_, 2 vols., 8vo.
Perugia, 1875-1879 vol. i., cap. v., pp. 257-322.
[31] 3 Soc., 4; 2 Cel., 1, 1. Cristofani, _op. cit._, i., p. 88
ff.; Bonazzi, _op. cit._, p. 257.
[32] 3 Soc., 4.
[33] 3 Soc., 4; 2 Cel., 1, 1.
[34] See this arbitration in Cristofani, _op. cit._, p. 93 ff.
[35] Cristofani, _loc. cit._, p. 70.
* * * * *