Life of St. Francis of Assisi
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_ ...
_quae cum prae 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'oil_ 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 scientiae 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 inedits pour servir a l'histoire
litteraire d'Italie du VIIIe au XIIIe siecle_. Paris, 1851, 8vo,
pp. 65, 68, 71, 73. Fauriel, _Dante et les origines de la
litterature 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
quaedam et execrabilia valde signis et vocibus edocentur pueri ii
nondum nati: et cum tempus ablactationis advenerit quaedam luxu
et lascivia plena non solum fari sed et operari coguntur.... Sed
et cum paulo plusculum aetate 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 Provencal 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 quae 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 Provencal,
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
praecellere_, 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 coaetaneo_, edited by Baluze: Migne, _Inn. op._, vol.
i., col. xxiv. See especially the letter of Innocent,
_Rectoribus Tusciae: 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.
* * * * *
CHAPTER II
STAGES OF CONVERSION
Spring 1204-Spring 1206
On his return to Assisi Francis at once resumed his former mode of life;
perhaps he even tried in some degree to make up for lost time. Fetes,
games, festivals, and dissipations began again. He did his part in them
so well that he soon fell gravely ill.[1] For long weeks he looked
death so closely in the face that the physical crisis brought about a
moral one. Thomas of Celano has preserved for us an incident of
Francis's convalescence. He was regaining strength little by little and
had begun to go about the house, when one day he felt a desire to walk
abroad, to contemplate nature quietly, and so take hold again of life.
Leaning on a stick he bent his steps toward the city gate.
The nearest one, called _Porta Nuova_, is the very one which opens upon
the finest scenery. Immediately on passing through it one finds one's
self in the open country; a fold of the hill hides the city, and cuts
off every sound that might come from it. Before you lies the winding
road to Foligno; at the left the imposing mass of Mount Subasio; at the
right the Umbrian plain with its farms, its villages, its cloud-like
hills, on whose slopes pines, cedars, oaks, the vine, and the olive-tree
shed abroad an incomparable brightness and animation. The whole country
sparkles with beauty, a beauty harmonious and thoroughly human, that is,
made to the measure of man.
Francis had hoped by this sight to recover the delicious sensations of
his youth. With the sharpened sensibility of the convalescent he
breathed in the odors of the spring-time, but spring-time did not come,
as he had expected, to his heart. This smiling nature had for him only a
message of sadness. He had believed that the breezes of this beloved
country-side would carry away the last shudders of the fever, and
instead he felt in his heart a discouragement a thousand-fold more
painful than any physical ill. The miserable emptiness of his life
suddenly appeared before him; he was terrified at his solitude, the
solitude of a great soul in which there is no altar.
Memories of the past assailed him with intolerable bitterness; he was
seized with a disgust of himself, his former ambitions seemed to him
ridiculous or despicable. He went home overwhelmed with the weight of a
new suffering.
In such hours of moral anguish man seeks a refuge either in love or in
faith. Unhappily the family and friends of Francis were incapable of
understanding him. As to religion, it was for him, as for the greater
number of his contemporaries, that crass fetichism with Christian
terminology which is far from having entirely disappeared. With certain
men, in fact, piety consists in making one's self right with a king more
powerful than any other, but also more severe and capricious, who is
called God. One proves one's loyalty to him as to other sovereigns, by
putting his image more or less everywhere, and punctually paying the
imposts levied by his ministers. If you are stingy, if you cheat, you
run the risk of being severely chastised, but there are courtiers around
the king who willingly render services. For a reasonable recompense
they will seize a favorable moment to adroitly make away with the
sentence of your condemnation or to slip before the prince a form of
plenary absolution which in a moment of good humor he will sign without
looking at it.[2]
Such was the religious basis upon which Francis had lived up to this
time. He did not so much as dream of seeking the spiritual balm which he
needed for the healing of his wounds. By a holy violence he was to
arrive at last at a pure and virile faith; but the road to this point is
long, and sown thick with obstacles, and at the moment at which we have
arrived he had not yet entered upon it, he did not even suspect its
existence; all he knew was that pleasure leads to nothingness, to
satiety and self-contempt.
He knew this, and yet he was about to throw himself once more into a
life of pleasure. The body is so weak, so prone to return to the old
paths, that it seeks them of itself, the moment an energetic will does
not stop it. Though no longer under any illusion with respect to it,
Francis returned to his former life. Was he trying to divert his mind,
to forget that day of bitter thought? We might suppose so, seeing the
ardor with which he threw himself into his new projects.[3]
An opportunity offered itself for him to realize his dreams of glory. A
knight of Assisi, perhaps one of those who had been in captivity with
him at Perugia, was preparing to go to Apulia under orders from Count
Gentile.[4] The latter was to join Gaultier de Brienne, who was in the