Life of St. Francis of Assisi Part 14

[4] Thomas of Celano's list. 1, _Quidam pium gerens animum_; 2, _Bernardus_; 3, _Vir alter_; 4, _aegidius_; 5, _Unus alius appositus_; 6, _Philippus_; 7, _Alius bonus vir_; 8, 9, 10, 11, _Quatuor boni et idonei viri_. 1 Cel., 24, 25, 29, 31. The Rinaldi-Amoni text says nothing of the last four. Three Companions: 1, _Bernardus_; 2, _Petrus_; 3, _aegidius_; 4, _Sabbatinus_; 5, _Moritus_; _Johannes Capella_; 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, Disciples received by the brethren in their missions. 3 Soc., 33, 35, 41, 46, 52. Bonaventura: 1, _Bernardus_; 2, ... 3, _aegidius_; 4, 5, ... 6, _Silvestro_; 7, _Alius bonus viri_; 8, 9, 10, 11, _Quatuor viri honesti_. Bon., 28, 29, 30, 31, 33. The Fioretti, while insisting on the importance of the twelve Franciscan apostles, cite only six in their list: Giovanni di Capella, Egidio, Philip, Silvestro, Bernardo, and Rufino.

_Fior._, 1. We must go to the Conformities to find the traditional list, f^o 46b 1: 1, _Bernardus de Quintavalle_; 2, _Petrus Chatanii_; 3, _Egidius_; 4, _Sabatinus_; 5, _Moricus_; 6, _Johannes de Capella_; 7, _Philippus Longus_; 8, _Johannes de Sancto Constantio_; 9, _Barbarus_; 10, _Bernardus de Cleviridante_ (sic); 11, _Angelus Tancredi_; 12, _Sylvester_. As will be seen, in the last two doc.u.ments twelve disciples are in question, while in the preceding ones there are only eleven.

This is enough to show a dogmatic purpose. This list reappears exactly in the _Speculum_, with the sole difference that Francis being there included Angelo di Tancrede is the twelfth brother and Silvestro disappears. _Spec._, 87a.

[5] According to tradition, the five _compagni del Santo_ buried there beside their master are Bernardo, Silvestro, William (an Englishman), Eletto, and Valentino(?)

[6] 3 Soc., 46; 1 Cel., 32; Bon., 34.

[7] 1 Cel., 33; 3 Soc., 53; Bon., 35.

[8] St. Ludgarde (1182-1246) sees him condemned to Purgatory till the Last Judgment. Life of this saint by Thomas of Catimpre in Surius: _Vitae SS._ (1618), vi., 215-226.

[9] _Vir clari ingenii, magnae probitatis et sapientiae, cui nullus secundus tempore suo:_ Rigordus, _de gestis Philippi Augusti_ in d.u.c.h.esne. _Historiae Francorum scriptores coaetanei_, t. v., p. 60.--_Nec similem sui scientia, facundia, decretorum et legum perit.i.tia, strenuitate, judiciorum nec adhuc visus est habere sequentem._ Cf. Mencken, _Script. rer. Sax._, Leipzig, 1728, t. iii., p. 252. _Innocentius, qui vere stupor mundi erat et immutator saeculi._ Cotton, _Hist. Anglicana_, Luard, 1859, p.

107.

[10] _Cujus finis laet.i.tiem potius quam trist.i.tiam generavit subjectis._ Alberic delle Tre Fontane. Leibnitz, _Accessiones historicae_, t. ii., p. 492.

[11] _Decidit in acutam (febrem) quam c.u.m multis diebus fovisset nec a citris quibus in magna quant.i.tatae et ex consuetudine vescebatur ... minime abstineret ... ad ultimum in lethargia prolapsus vitam finivit._ Alberic delle Tre Fontane, _loc. cit._

[12] Fresco in the great nave of the Upper Church of a.s.sisi.

[13] 1 Cel., 32; 3 Soc., 47.

[14] Of the Colonna family; he died in 1216. Cf. 3 Soc., 61.

Vide Cardella, _Memorie storiche de' Cardinali_, 9 vols., 8vo, Rome, 1792 ff., t. i., p. 177. He was at Rome in the summer of 1210, for on the 11th of August he countersigned the bull _Religiosem vitam_. Potthast, 4061. Angelo Clareno relates the approbation with more precision in certain respects: _c.u.m vero Summo Pontifici ea quae postulabat [Franciscus] ardua valde et quasi impossibilia viderentur infirmitate hominum sui temporis, exhortabatur eum, quod aliquem ordinem vel regulam de approbatis a.s.sumeret, at ipse se a Christo missum ad talem vitam et non aliam postulandam constanter affirmans, fixus in sua pet.i.tione permansit. Tunc dominus Johannes de Sancto Paulo episcopus Sabinensis et dominus Hugo episcopus Hostiensis Dei spiritu moti a.s.sisterunt Sancto Francisco et pro his quae petebat coram summo Pontifice et Cardinalibus plura proposuerunt rationabilia et efficacia valde. Tribul._ Laurentinian MS., f^o 6a. This intervention of Ugolini is mentioned in no other doc.u.ment. It is, however, by no means impossible. He also was in Rome in the summer of 1210. (Vide Potthast, p. 462.)

[15] 1 Cel., 32 and 33; 3 Soc., 47 and 48. Cf. _An. Per._, A.

SS., p. 590.

[16] 1 Cel., 33.

[17] 3 Soc., 48.

[18] 3 Soc., 49; 1 Cel., 33; Bon., 35 and 36. All this has been much worked over by tradition and gives us only an echo of the reality. It would certainly have needed very little for the Penitents to meet the same fate before Innocent III. as the Waldenses before Lucius III. Traces of this interview are found in two texts which appear to me to be too suspicious to warrant their insertion in the body of the narrative. The first is a fragment of Matthew Paris: _Papa itaque in fratre memorato habitum deformem, vultum despicabilem, barbam prolixam, capillos incultos, supercilia pendentia et nigra diligenter considerans; c.u.m pet.i.tionem ejus tam arduam et executione impossibilem recitare fecisset, despexit c.u.m et dixit: Vade frater, et quaere porcus, quibus potius debes quam hominibus comparari, et involve te c.u.m eis in volutabro, et regulam illis a te commentatam tradens, officium tuae praedicationis impende. Quod audiens Franciscus inclinato capite exixit et porcis tandem inventis, in luto se c.u.m eis tamdiu involvit quousque a planta pedis usque ad verticem, corpus suum totum c.u.m ipso habitu polluisset. Sicque ad consistorium revertens Papae se conspectibus praesentavit dicens: Domine feci sicut praecepisti exaudi nunc obsecro pet.i.tionem meam_. Ed. Wats, p. 340. The incident has a real Franciscan color, and should have some historic basis.

Curiously, it in some sort meets a pa.s.sage in the legend of Bonaventura which is an interpolation of the end of the thirteenth century. See A. SS., p. 591.

[19] 3 Soc., 50 and 51; Bon., 37; 2 Cel., 1, 11; Bernard de Besse, Turin MS., f^o 101b. Ubertini di Casali (_Arbor vitae crucifixae_, Venice, 1485, lib. v., cap. iii.) tells a curious story in which he depicts the indignation of the prelates against Francis. _Quaenam haec est doctrina nova quam infers auribus nostris? Quis potest vivere sine temporalium possessione? Numquid tu melior es quam patres nostri qui dederunt n.o.bis temporalia et in temporalibus abundantes ecclesias possiderunt?_ Then follows the fine prayer inserted by Wadding in Francis's works. The central idea is the same as in the parable of poverty. This story, though not referable to any source, has nevertheless its importance, since it shows how in the year 1300 a man who had all the doc.u.ments before his eyes, represented to himself Francis's early steps.

[20] Bon., 36.

[21] The attempt of Durand of Huesca to create a mendicant order has not yet been studied with sufficient minuteness. Chief of the Waldenses of Aragon, he was present in 1207 at the conference of Pamiers, and decided to return to the Church.

Received with kindness by the pope he at first had a great success, and by 1209 had established communities in Aragon, at Carca.s.sonne, Narbonne, Beziers, Nimes, Uzes, Milan. We find in this movement all the lineaments of the inst.i.tute of St.

Dominic; it was an order of priests to whom theological studies were recommended. They disappeared almost completely in the storm of the Albigensian crusade. Innocent III., _epistolae_, xi., 196, 197, 198; xii., 17, 66; xiii., 63, 77, 78, 94; xv., 82, 83, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 96, 137, 146. The first of these bulls contains the very curious Rule of this ephemeral order.

Upon its disappearance vide Ripoli, _Bullarium Praedicatorum_, 8 vols., folio, Rome, 1729-1740, t. i., p. 96. Cf. Elie Berger, _Registres d'Innocent IV._, 2752.

[22] Burchard, of the order of the Premostrari, who died in 1226. See below, p. 234.

[23] 3 Soc., 52; Bon., 38.

[24] 3 Soc., 52 and 49.

[25] St. Antonino, Archbishop of Florence, saw very clearly that it was _quaedam concessio simplex habitus et modi illius vivendi et quasi permissio_. A. SS., p. 839. The expression "approbation of the Rule" by which the act of Innocent III. is usually designated is therefore erroneous.

CHAPTER VII

RIVO-TORTO

1210-1211

The Penitents of a.s.sisi were overflowing with joy. After so many mortally long days spent in that Rome, so different from the other cities that they knew, exposed to the ill-disguised suspicions of the prelates and the jeers of pontifical lackeys, the day of departure seemed to them like a deliverance. At the thought of once more seeing their beloved mountains they were seized by that homesickness of the child for its native village which simple and kindly souls preserve till their latest breath.

Immediately after the ceremony they prayed at the tomb of St. Peter, and then crossing the whole city they quitted Rome by the Porta Salara.

Thomas of Celano, very brief as to all that concerns Francis's sojourn in the Eternal City, recounts at full length the light-heartedness of the little band on quitting it. Already it began to be transfigured in their memory; pains, fatigues, fears, disquietude, hesitations were all forgotten; they thought only of the fatherly a.s.surances of the supreme pontiff--the vicar of Christ, the lord and father of the Christian universe--and promised themselves to make ever new efforts to follow the Rule with fidelity.

Full of these thoughts they had set out, without provisions, to cross the Campagna of Rome, whose few inhabitants never venture out in the heat of the day. The road stretches away northward, keeping at some distance from the Tiber; on the left the jagged crest of Soracte, bathed in mists formed by the exhalations of the earth, looms up disproportionately as it fades in the distance; on the right, the everlasting undulations of the hillocks with their wide pastures separated by thickets so parched and ragged that they seemed to cry for mercy and pardon. Between them the dusty road which goes straight forward, implacable, showing, as far as the eye can reach, nothing but the quivering of the fiery air. Not a house, not a tree, not a pa.s.sing breeze, nothing to sustain the traveller under the disquietude which creeps over him. Here and there are a few abandoned huts, their ruins looking like the corpses of departed civilizations, and on the edge of the horizon the hills rising up like gigantic and unsurmountable walls.

There are no words to describe the physical and moral sufferings to which he is exposed who undertakes without proper preparation to cross this inhospitable district. To the weakness caused by lack of air soon succeeds an insurmountable la.s.situde. The feet sink in a soft, tenuous dust which every step sends up in clouds; it covers you, penetrates your skin, and parches your mouth even more than thirst. Little by little all energy ebbs away, a dumb dejection seizes you, sight and thought become alike confused, fever ensues, and you cast yourself down by the roadside, unable to take another step.

In their haste to leave Rome Francis and his companions had forgotten all this, and had imprudently set forth. They would have succ.u.mbed if a chance traveller had not brought them succor. He was obliged to leave them before they had shaken off the last hallucinations of fever, leaving them amazed with the unexpected succor which Providence had sent them.[1]

They were so severely shattered that on arriving at Orte they were obliged to stop awhile. In a desert spot not far from this city they found a shelter admirably adapted to serve them for refuge;[2] it was one of those Etruscan tombs so common in that country, whose chambers serve to this day as a shelter for beggars and gypsies. While some of the brethren hastened to the city to beg for food, the others remained in this solitude enjoying the happiness of being together, forming a thousand plans, and more than ever delighting in the charm of freedom from care and renunciation of material goods.

This place had so strong an attraction for them that it required an effort of will to quit it at the end of a fortnight. The seduction of a life purely contemplative a.s.sailed Francis, and he asked himself if instead of preaching to the mult.i.tudes he would not do better to live in retreat, solely mindful of the inward dialogue between the soul and G.o.d.[3]

This aspiration for the selfish repose of the cloister came back to him several times in his life; but love always won the victory. He was too much the child of his time not to be at times tempted by that happiness which the Middle Ages regarded as the supreme bliss of the elect in paradise--peace. _Beati mortui quia quiesc.u.n.t!_ His distinguis.h.i.+ng peculiarity is that he never gave way to it.

The reflections of Francis and his companions during their stay at Orte only made their apostolic mission more clear and imperative to them. He, above all, seemed to be filled with a new ardor, and like a valiant knight he burned to throw himself into the thick of the fray.

Their way now led through the valley of the Nera. The contrast between these cool glens, awake with a thousand voices, and the desolation of the Roman Campagna, must have struck them vividly; the stream is only a swollen torrent, but it runs so noisily over pebbles and rocks that it seems to be conversing with them and with the trees of the neighboring forest. In proportion as they had felt themselves alone on the road from Rome to Otricoli, they now felt themselves compa.s.sed about with the life, the fecundity, the gayety of the country.

The account of Thomas of Celano becomes so animated as it describes the life of Francis at this epoch that one cannot help thinking that at this time he must have seen him, and that this first meeting remained always in his memory as the radiant dawn of his spiritual life.[4]

The Brothers had taken to preaching in such places as they came upon along their route. Their words were always pretty much the same, they showed the blessedness of peace and exhorted to penitence. Emboldened by the welcome they had received at Rome, which in all innocence they might have taken to be more favorable than it really was, they told the story to everyone they met, and thus set all scruples at rest.

These exhortations, in which Francis spared not his hearers, but in which the sternest reproaches were mingled with so much of love, produced an enormous effect. Man desires above all things to be loved, and when he meets one who loves him sincerely he very seldom refuses him either his love or his admiration.

It is only a low understanding that confounds love with weakness and compliance. We sometimes see sick men feverishly kissing the hand of the surgeon who performs an operation upon them; we sometimes do the same for our spiritual surgeons, for we realize all that there is of vigor, pity, compa.s.sion in the tortures which they inflict, and the cries which they force from us are quite as much of grat.i.tude as of pain.

Men hastened from all parts to hear these preachers who were more severe upon themselves than on anyone else. Members of the secular clergy, monks, learned men, rich men even, often mingled in the impromptu audiences gathered in the streets and public places. All were not converted, but it would have been very difficult for any of them to forget this stranger whom they met one day upon their way, and who in a few words had moved them to the very bottom of their hearts with anxiety and fear.

Francis was in truth, as Celano says, the bright morning star. His simple preaching took hold on consciences, s.n.a.t.c.hed his hearers from the mire and blood in which they were painfully trudging, and in spite of themselves carried them to the very heavens, to those serene regions where all is silent save the voice of the heavenly Father. "The whole country trembled, the barren land was already covered with a rich harvest, the withered vine began again to blossom."[5]