Life of St. Francis of Assisi

Front matter

8X fCC9gZ

CORNELL

UNIVERSITY

Preface To First Edition

This book is an attempt to represent Saint Francis of Assisi as I have come to know him after many years' study of the early records bearing upon his history. Hitherto no adequate biograjohy of the saint has been written in the English tongue, though Canon Knox Little has given us a study of his character, which is of real merit. Nor does any modern biography, to my thinking, set forth the real St. Francis as he is revealed in the historical records which have come down to us. Paul Sabatier's well-known Vie de S. Frangois d' Assise is a delightful piece of literature ; but had the author possessed the fuller knowledge supplied by historical research since 1894 — a research in which he himself has taken a leading part — I think that his book would have been a more authentic history. J. Jorgensen's recent work, known to me only in its French translation, has undoubtedly caught more of the spiritual thought and mental atmosphere of St. Francis ; and he had the advantage which M. Sabatier did not possess, of the research work just referred to. Nevertheless it

xi xii PEEFACE TO FIRST EDITION

seems to me the final biography of the saiut is yet to be desired. I cannot presume to have attained this desired goal ; but perhaps this present book may do something towards its attainment : in the hope that it will do so, the book is published.

I must confess my obligations to the many students of St. Francis' history who have gone before me. It will not be invidious if I single out for special mention the Fianciscan editors of Quaracchi, P. Edouard d'Alen^on and M. Paul Sabatier, to whose patient labours all Franciscan research students gladly pay their tribute of grateful acknowledgment. But to all of whose labours I have availed myself, and whose names will be found in this book, I now render my thanks. Finally I must tender my respectful acknowledgment to the most Rev. Fr. Pacificus of Sejano, Minister-General of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin, for his gracious approbation of this " Life " of the Seraphic Francis.

FR. CUTHBERT, O.S.F.C.

Si. Anselm's IIohse, Oxford.

BOOK I. OHiP

I. The Coming op Francis

II. Francis Dreams of Glory and Famh

III. How Francis found the Lady Poverty .

IV. Francis Eeceives his Knighthood of the Cboss 7. The Beginning of a New Fraternity

VI. First Missionary Journeys

VII. Pope Innocent approves the Kule of the Order

PAGE

1 17 30 43 59 72 90

BOOK ir,

I. Rivo-ToETO 109

II. The Porziuncola 123

III. The Porziuncola (continued) 141

IV. Saint Clare 155

V. First Attempts to reach the Infidels ..... 178

\ I. Francis Attends the Fourth Lateran Council . , . 199

Vn. The Porziuncola Indulgence ....... 223

siii xiv CONTENTS

BOOK Jir.

CHAP. ' PAGE

I. A New Phase opens in the Life op the Fraternity , . 236

II. The Chapter of Mats 259

III. Francis goes to the East 273

IV. The Revolt of the Vicars 287

V. Brother Edias assumes the Government 305

VI. The Third Order 322

VII. The Friars establish a School 346

VIII. The Teial of Francis 3G9

BOOK IV.

I. Grkccio .... 383

II. The Stigmata 399

III. Towards Evening 416

IV. The Last Journey ......... 435

V. Testament and Death 449

APPENDICES.

I. The Primitive Rule op St. Francis 465

Analysis op Reqdla Prima . . i 467

II. The Indulgence op the Poeziunoola 477

III. The Rule op the Third Order 486

IV. The Sources of our Kkowledge op St. Francis . . . 492

Index 529

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

St. Francis op Assisi Frontispiece

From the ISth Century picture at Christ Church, Oxford, ascribed to Margaritone,

FACINQ PAOB

Gateway, Assisi (looking towards Perugia) 22

Above San Damiano 43

Between Gubbio and CittI di Castello ...... 72

Old Assisi 114

The Chapei, of Poeziuncola 123

San Damiano 167

The Countky behind Assisi 235

PaiMiTivE Franciscan Hermitage (Grotto of Soffiano) .... 299

Ancient Franciscan Friary (Lo Sperimento, near Camerino) . . 362

The Friary of Greccio 393

Monte Alvernia 407

Le Celle (near Cortona) 435

BOOK I.

CHAPTEE L

THE COMmG OF FRANCIS.

As you go to-day along the white road that leads from the Porziuncola to the city of Assisi, a great peacefulness seems to pervade all the country-side. The ancient city is in repose, resting on the slope of a spur of Monte Subasio, like an old warrior whose fighting days are over. There is something grim in its aspect even in the soft brilliancy of the Umbrian sun. Perhaps it is the old mediaeval fortress and the city wall that can still be seen high up the hill ; perhaps it is the grey bare surface of the mountains behind ; or perhaps it is the very position of the city built as it were with its back to the hill and its face to all comers whether friends or foes. This touch of sternness, however, does but give a zest to the spirit of peace which broods over it to-day. Its peacefulness is the repose of strength ; its rest, the rest of one who has lived.

But Assisi still lives, though its life is not that of the world of strife and tumult. The raucous voices of the cabdrivers who invade the city on the occasion of a festa, and the wily bargaining of the sellers of ohjets de piiU, and the obtrusive self-advertisement of the new hotels, — these suggest indeed the world that lies beyond the hiU-bound valley ; but their voices are not the voices which fill the swcot aii: of

Assisi. These speak neitlier of barter and gain, nor of strife and tumult, nor of any of the world's vanities, but of that ineffable peace which is born of the deeper life and the deeper joys, aye, and of the deeper sorrows of the spirit. For Assisi even in its spirituality, is very human. The voices in the air are the voices of men, not of angels ; of men who have passed through the many complexities of human experience before they found peace. And so the peacefulness which broods over the city and this vast plain before it, warms the heart even whilst it stills the heart's tumult and entices one's thoughts to the peace eternal.

But there was little suggestion of peace in the atmosphere of Assisi in the year 1199. The city was then in the throes of a political upheaval, the outcome of which no one then foresaw ; certainly not Francis the light-hearted son of the merchant Pietro Bernardone, whose life story was to be shaped in no small measure by these present happenings.

Like most of the industrial cities of Italy, Assisi had long been rebellious at heart against the domination of the German emperors. The enthusiasm for civic liberty, which had baulked the ambition of Barbarossa but had been obliged to bow the head to the energy of his successor, Henry VI, took new life when death itself put a stop to Henry's victorious progress in 1197 and a few months later in January, 1198, Innocent III ascended the Papal throne. At once Innocent set himself to checkmate the imperial policy inasmuch as jt affected the relations of the Empire with the Church and the Italian cities. The deliberate aim of that policy under Barbarossa and his successor had been the subjection of Italy to the Imperial crown and the subordination of the Church to the Imperial prerogative.^ Innocent's policy was to meet 1 Cf. Huillard Br^holles, Vie de Pierre de la Viqne, Partie III", X.

this menace by increasing the temporal power of the Papacy and welding all the Christian States into a confederacy under Papal suzerainty. Hardly was he seated in St. Peter's chair, than he set his hand to eject the German conquerors from the provinces upon which the Holy See had formerly some claim to overlordship ; and in pursuance of this policy he called upon Conrad of Lutzen to deliver up the Rocca of Assisi and surrender all his holdings to the Pope. Conrad, an adventurous Suabian, had been created Duke of Spoleto and Count of Assisi some twenty years previously by Barbarossa ; of late years he had resided mostly at the Eocca of Assisi. He was a genial, easy-going tyrant, though a brave soldier. The people dubbed him " The Whimsical " it has been said of him that he had one quality rare in a German overlord, — he had regard for public opinion, and as far as his fealty to the emperor allowed, let them rule themselves.^ But the foreign yoke galled the cities athirst for independence and the glory of being their own masters. Conrad, knowing himself powerless against Innocent, met the Papal legates at Narni in the spring of the year and signed the surrender. No sooner did the Assisians hear the news than they gathered together and in a glorious frenzy razed the Eocca to the ground. Never again, they were determined, should the hated fortress hold their city in subjection. Thereupon the Papal legates protested that the Eocca had become the property of the Holy See and threatened the city with an interdict.^ The Assisians, however, took no heed of the protest, and with the stones of the Eocca set themselves to build a strong wall round the city. They were determined to secure their independence.

1 Ant. Cristofaui, Storie di Assisi [ed. 1902], p. 49. ^Innocent III, Eegestorum, Lib. I, LXXXVIII ; " Mirari Cogimur".

1*

But with the withdrawal of the G-erman overlordship, the Assisians were not to find peace, whatever else they might gain. They very soon discovered that they must eithei' strengthen their own communal sovereignty or fall into a state of vassalage to their more powerful neighbour, Perugia — the city which stands so proudly upon a hill at the northern entrance to the Umbrian valleys, as though it were destined by nature to guard the land of Umbria against all unfriendly comers from the north and to keep vigilant watch over the valleys themselves. And Perugia was fully conscious of the dignity and power her position gave her amongst her Umbrian neighbours, nor was she without ambition to extend her sovereignty and maybe to reduce the valleys to practical vassalage. Already she had forced Arezzo to cede to her territories in the neighbourhood of Lake Thrasymene and had incorporated the district of Umbertide which commands the highways leading to Gubbio and Citta di Castello in the most eastern Umbrian valley ; and with these cities she had formed an aUiance which made them little more than her retainers. She was quick to take advantage of the intestine quarrels of her neighbours, and by adopting the cause of one party, to bring all parties under her power. So when in the month of January, 1200, certain nobles in the territory of Assisi sought her protection against the Commune, Perugia eagerly made herself their advocate. That meant trouble for the Assisians, as they well knew ; but being a stout-hearted people and themselves ambitious, they had no thought of submitting to Perugia's dictation. The original cause of the quarrel lay in the determination of the Commune of Assisi to strengthen the defences of the city and to force the feudal owners of lands, in their territories beyond the city walls, to submit to the common law of the Commune. But some of these nobles refused to acknowledge the Commune's authority, and at this the citizens attacked their castles and razed them to the gTound and by force took the lands and buildings which they required for the city's defence. Nor would they restore to the dissident nobles their property nor acknowledge their privileges when Perugia took up their cause. The feud dragged on for two years and culminated in a battle near the Ponte San Giovanni, which lies about midway between the two cities.^ The Assisians were worsted in the fight, and amongst the prisoners taken that day by the Perugians, was the son of Pietro Bernardone, one of the most wealthy merchants of Assisi.

Thus Francis appears for the first time in the world's history, a figure in one of those petty wars which mark the struggle of mediaeval Italy for civic independence. He was at this time about twenty years of age,^ and full of the zest of life. In appearance he was somewhat below middle height,

^ Cristofani, op. cit. p. 57 ; W. Heywood, A History of Ferugia, p. 63 seq. ; Bonazzi, Storia di Perugia, i. p. 257.

■•"None of the legends give the date of Francis' birth; but it is evident from Thomas of Celano, that he was born in 1181 or 1182. Speaking of the death of Francis on 4 October, 1226, Celano adds ; " Twenty years being com pleted since he most perfectly adhered to Christ" (I Celano, 88) and further on he again says that Francis died " in the tioentieth year of his conversion " (I Celano, 119). Francis' conversion, therefore, took place in 1206 (cf. also. Leg. 3 Soc. 68 ; Sjiec. Perfectionis, cap. 124). But Celano further tells us that he was then " nearly twenty-five years of age " (I Celauo, 2). Albert of Stadt gives the date of Francis' birth as 1182 (Man. Oerm. Script. Tom. XVI, p. 350), but his accuracy is not unimpeachable.

For chronology of Francis' life, cf. de Gubecnatis, Orhis Scraphicus, Tom. I, p. 15 seq. ; Panfllo da Magliano, Storia compendiosa, Tom. I, p. 5 scq. ; P. Leo Patrem in Miscellanea Francescana, Tom. IX, faso. 3 ; Boehmer Aualekten, p. 123 seq. ; Golubovich, Biblioteca Bio-Biographica, p. 85 seq. ; F. Paschal Robinson in Archiviim Franc. Hist. an. I, fasc. I, pp. 23-30 ; Montgomery Carmichael in Franciscan Annals, October, 190G.

slender of limb and of dark complexion. A general delicacy of feature — the straight well-shapen nose, the smooth brow, the hands rather tenuous with tapering fingers — betokened an idealist temperament ; the rather thin hps were sensitive, but with indications of obstinacy, and in the dark eyes was a fearless candour and the possibilities of a boundless hot enthusiasm. The low forehead bespoke a mind intuitive rather than logical He carried himself straightly and moved with a quick movement. His voice was clear and musical and strong.^ He dressed sumptuously as one delighting in colour and a certain Imrliaric splendour. Among the gay city youth he had won a certain proud leadership. His vivacious and ready wit and tireless energy and exceeding good nature, made him a boon companion and general favourite ; a certain bizarre fancy and originality ^ and a great daring, gained him a willing following of youths given to fantastic and unconventional frolic. At times one might detect behind the accustomed gaiety a latent seriousness of soul and a tendency to a gentle melancholy, and herein the philosopher might recognize something of the secret of his ascendency over this undisciplined youth. His popularity, however, was partly due to the lavishness with which he spent his money. His father, the wealthy merchant, gave him an unstinted allowance, and Francis never let money rest in his purse. It went as freely as it came. Friends and acquaintances of the family, astonished at his prodigality, would protest: "he might be a prince instead of the son of Pietro Bernardone ".'■' But Pietro was of that mind that he

' I Celano, 8.3 ; cf. ibid. 73.

-Cf. Leg. 3 Soo. 2 : " In curiositalc ctiam tantum erat vanus quod aliquaiulo in eodem induviento panmim valde carum jjanno vilissimo consui faciebat". The civic feasts alluded to by the biographers hare a similarity to those of the Feste du Fid. a fellowship of merchants well known in Prance and even ic England towards the close of the thirteenth oenturj'. Cf. George Unmn, Tlie Oildx and Companus of London (Antiquary's Books), pp 'JS-U9

^3Soc. 2: I Celano, 2.

did not resent his son's lavishness, but rather rejoiced. He was himself ambitious, and perhaps saw in Francis' popularity with the city youth a foreshadowing of the day when this son of his would be high in the civic council, perhaps even consul or podesta : a laudable ambition at a time when the magistrate of a semi-independent city treated with princes and Papal legates in some sort of equality. But if this were Pietro's ambition, Francis himself looked beyond civic honours. Quite what he aspired to, he himself could not tell at this time. He dreamed of fame and honours, but without any definite idea how fame was to come to him. He lived as yet in a world of legendary romance and had visions of being a great leader of men and dazzling the world by his ^eats and compelling its homage and admiration.^ The de ference paid him now by the city youth was but a foretaste of that which was to come in the larger world where kings held court and heroes won fame. The city revels were to lead to revels of tourney and courts of love, where knight challenged knight, and poets sang : and whether in tourney or in court of love, Francis would meet all rivals. This idealism stood ever between Francis and his fellow-revellers. To them the evening frolic was but the excitement of the hour, and they tasted its coarseness and were besmirched by its sensuousness : to Francis it was a crude anticipation of the battle of life as he had learned it in the romances of chivalry. Perhaps it was this which kept him morally clean and wholesome amidst the dissipations in which he moved so freely. Where others came quickly to moral shipwreck, his temperament allowed him to assimilate only the subtler and more refined sensuousness of the scenes and not the coarser elements. He loved the song and parade, the adulation of the crowd, the movement and zest and the sense of leadership: iCf. 3 Soc. 11,5.

but from grosser evils a natural fastidiousness saved him. Coarseness vs'as alien to his nature : he V7as dainty in his food ; an obscene word made him silent.^

A temperament such as his could not have found a more congenial nursing-ground than Assisi in the years immediately following the overthrow of the German domination. The life of the city was quickened; the proud sense of freedom, chafed even by the mild suzerainty of Conrad of Lutzen/ was now set loose, and threw a glamour of patriotism even over the industrial activities of the city. There was a sense of building up the free commune as well as one's own house. One thing the German overlord had done for Assisi. He had given the citizens a period of comparative peace, during which the city had prospered materially, and the merchants had developed trade and gained wealth. The staple trade of Assisi, as of the other cities of central Italy, was in woollen stuffs, and the merchant in search of a market travelled wide and far. Thus Pietro Beruardone had a brisk business with France. And it was whilst he was on one of these journeys to the French market that Francis, his eldest son, was born. To commemorate the circumstance the delighted father on his return home dubbed the child "Francesco" — "the Frenchman"; by which pet-name and not by his baptismal

1 In the early legends one finds apparently conflicting statements. Celano (I Colano, 1-3) depicts the youth o{ Francis as sullied by the vices o£ the time. S. Bonaventure {Leg. Maj. I), on the other hand, says : " Albeit in his youth Francis was reared in vanity . . . yet he went not astray among vfanton youths after the lusts of the flesh". The contradiction is explained by the temperament of Francis. The Leg. 3 Soc. 3, suggests the solution : " Erat taincn quasi naturaliter curialis," etc.

- Conrad had even permitted the Assisians to join the league of the cities of Umbria and the Marches, for the defence of civic r-ights. Of. Oristofani, op. cit. p. 49.

THE COMING OP FRANCIS 9

name, Giovanni, the child was henceforth called. On their journeys, the merchants not only did business ; they gathered up and distributed the news of the world. They carried political and religious thought from one place to another along the route of their travel, and the news they brought was debated with that intensity of interest which belongs only to the more impassioned moments of life ; for at no time have men lived more keenly and with a greater zest for ideas than did the citizens of those mediaeval cities. In every department of life, whether in politics, in intellect, or in religion, the towns were big with change and revolution. There was a restlessness abroad which none could escape : every town and city was more or less a radiating centre of critical discontent and revolutionary ideas ; and nowhere was this spirit more active than in Italy, where each city in its semi-independence was a sort of microcosm typical of the Christian universe. When the men of Assisi stormed the Rocca and razed it to the ground and built a wall around their city and sought to subject the nobles to the civic authority, they were conscious that they were taking part in a world-wide revolution— the uprising of the city against the castle. In their streets and council chambers were discussed all the great questions agitating the peninsula and the Christian countries, whether secular or religious, Great as the power of the Church was, Italy at this time was seething with movements of Church reform, heretical and otherwise. There were the Cathari and Paterini,' who had swept like great sea waves over northern and central Italy, and set up conventicles in

'Of. Gebhardt, L'ltalie Mystique, p. 26 seq. ; Felice Toooo, L' Eresia nel Medio Bvo, p. 73 seq. The Paterini were in tlie first instance a movement supported by the Holy See; but Arnold of Brescia revived the movement In opposition to the Church.

all the more populous centres, defying the ecclesiastical powers. They preached a return to apostolic simpHcity in religion, denounced the Church for its wealth and secular ambitions, scoffed at the clergy and rejected the sacramental .system. They were the Puritans of the Middle Ages. Then side by side with the heretical movements there was a widespread feeling amongst the Cathohcs themselves, that all was not right in the Church. The orthodox discontent found expression in Lombardy and the North in the movement of the Humiliati, a society of lay-people who bound themselves to live by their labour, to eschew luxury in food and dress, to avoid taking part in war or feud and to serve the poor.' But the Humiliati, whilst they aroused the conscience, failed to touch the imagination.

Otherwise was it with the reform propaganda of the Cistercian Abbot Joachim in the South. ^ Joachim too preached poverty and humility, but unlike the other reformers he sought for renovation not by legal enactments and codes of conduct but by spiritual enlightenment. He was an Isaias bidding the people prepare for a renewed Kingdom of God by a clean conscience and prayer and the study of the Divine AVord. When the spirit of the prophet first came upon him he had retired to a cave in Sicily and there had prepared himself for his mission by weeping over the sins of the people and imploring God's mercy. Then he had entered amongst the Cistercians at Sambucina as a lay-brother, had afterwards been ordained priest and elected abbot of the monastery. After a time he resigned the abbacy and secluded himself in the desert of Pietralata, where he wrote his prophetical books concerning the new reign of the Spirit.

' Cf. Tirabos-hi, Vetera Humilialorum Mciuimenta ; Gehhardt, ojj. cit. p. 34. '-Cf. Felice Tocco, op. cit. p. 261 seq. ; Gebhardt, op. cit. p. 49 scq.

Leaving the desert, he went about visiting the monasteries and preaching reform. Disciples flocked to him, and in 1189 he founded a nevp monastic community at Flore n Calabria, which drew to it the eyes of multitudes of people, both of the clergy and the laity, who soon came to regard it as the holy Sion whence would issue the long-sought renovation of the Christian world. Gentle and pitiful, Joachim preached a gospel of love towards God and man : to many he seemed a very image of the Christ. His prophecies sent a thrill through all Catholic Italy, like the stirring of a new day. Men lifted up their heads in hope and yet in fear ; for the reign of the Divine Spirit about to come, was to be preceded by a sharp period of terror when the anti-Christ would appear on earth. ^

The effect of Joachim's teaching was deep and lasting : for years after his death the people saw in political and religious events the fulfilment of his prophecies.^ One of its immediate effects was the appearance of wandering devotees who went about calling the people to repentance, and uttering cryptic prophecies of the coming time. Such a one was found in Assisi about this very time : he went through the streets, crying out : Pax et Bonum ! Peace and Well-doing ! ^ In after times he was regarded as a precursor of that gospel of peace which Francis was to preach so successfully. The Franciscan movement was indeed cradled in the expectancy aroused by the Joachimite prophecies. Another indication

' This period of the anti-Christ was to begin, according to Joachim, in 1199. Cf. Felice Tooco, op. cit. p. 290, n. 1.

^Thus Frederick II was regarded by many Cathilics as the anti-Christ; whilst on the other hand his partisans gave him almost divine honours, and likened him to Jesus Christ. Gf. HuiUard Breholies, Hist, diplomat, iv. p. 378 ; Tie de P. de la Vigne, Pieces Justificatives, No. 107 el passim.

how Assisi was affected by the general rehgious restlessness was the election of the heretic, Giraldo di Gilberto, in 1203, to the chief magistracy, and his remaining in office in spite of the protests of the Holy See.^

That Francis was conversant with all these movements as they were reflected in the life of his native city, there can be no doubt. In the narrow circle of a mediaeval commune, the son of a wealthy merchant, and partner in his father's trade, could not be ignorant of the quick forces of public opinion which carried men onwards so irresistibly. Neither can it be doubted that he took his part right willingly in the struggle for civic independence. But the sentiment which drew him out to fight against Perugia was hardly a reflective one but rather a blind instinct of loyalty and a natural love of adventure. He was as yet of that youthful cast of thought which values things in proportion to their nearness to one's personal concerns. To him the deep politics of the city counsellors would seem trivial compared with the youthful revels in which he found some semblance of his dream of life. As to the disputes between Catholics and Paterini and such hke, they would seem to him whom they did not concern, mere waste of words and temper : if he gave serious thought to the matter at all, he would probably condemn all heretics as meddlers in the affairs of other men or as scarecrows at the feast. He was, in a word, too much wrapt up in his own dreams to be an ardent politician or religious disputant. In fact, he never quite descended from his world of dream even in after life, and was apt to be impatient of meddlers and heretics to the end. As to the coming of anti-Christ and the promised new revelation of the Spirit, these things might have impressed him had they not been so strange to his

'Griato'ani, op. cit. p. 63.

outlook on life. He loved the world as it was : things might not be all as they should be, but there was great joy to be found there, and he kept close to the joy and shrank instinctively from the sight of the sorrow as from some unexplamed mystery which would be troublesome it peered into.^

But amidst all the confusion of voices which filled the public places, there was one voice to which the young Francis listened with a joyous content, the voice of the troubadour. Twenty years before the birth of Francis the singing poets of Provence had begun to invade Italy, drawn thither by the stir of life and freedom. They came singing aloud the joys and sorrows of youth and the glory of chivalry. Gaily or pathetically they lifted their voices in praise of love or adventure, passing their fingers deftly and thrillingly over the varied strings of human emotion. Their songs, too, had the consistency of a faith however lightly they might be sung. Passionately they recited the glory of courage and endurance ; but always their heroes spent themselves for some high cause, either for the defence of the Christian faith or for the succouring of the weak or the oppressed. Or else they sang of love, of love sublimated by sacrifice and worship ; ^ for whether they sang of battle or adventure or of love, a persistent note in their harmonies was that of personal devotion and unselfish endurance for the sake of the good cause or the beloved. Their heroes were chosen from folk-lore and legend. Arthur and his Round Table, Charlemagne and his puissant paladins, supplied them with inspiring themes. So with his

^Cf. M. Fauriel, Dante et Us Origines de la Langue et de la Lilterature Italiennes, p. 279 seq. ; cf. Earl Bartsch, Chrestomatltie Provengale ; Ern. Monaoi, Testi antichi provemiali.