FRANCIS' EARLY DISCIPLES.
'Then forth they went....
Content for evermore to follow him. In weariness,
In painfulness, in perils by the way,
Through awful vigils in the wilderness,
Through storms of trouble, hatred and reproach.'
Bernardo di Quintavelle is perhaps the most important of these first
followers, inasmuch as he ultimately took his place as Leader of the
Order of Friars minor, which was the name the Franciscans first gave
themselves. We have already told how Bernardo came to join Francis,
and take upon himself the same vows. From that day his faith and trust
in God and His call to him never wavered. That was the secret of his
tremendous strength of soul. The strength of a man who is sure of his
call and its divinity is as the strength of ten.
It was Bernardo whom Francis deputed in the early days of the work to
go to Bologna, and labor there. Bologna was the centre of the
universe, as far as learning and culture went, to the Italians of that
day. As soon as Bernardo and his followers showed themselves in the
town, the children, seeing them dressed so plainly and poorly, laughed
and scoffed, and threw dirt and stones at them. They accepted these
trials manfully, and made their way to the market-place. The children,
who followed them here continued to pelt them with stones and dust,
and pulled them round by the hoods of their garments. Day after day,
and day after day, Bernardo and his little handful returned, though
they could never get anybody to give them a civil hearing. Poor
fellows, during those first few days, they all but starved.
[Sidenote: _A Great Saint!_]
There was a doctor of the law, who used to pass round by the
market-place every day, and seeing Bernardo patiently put up with such
insult and contempt, wondered much to himself. At last he arrived at a
conclusion.
"This man must be a great saint."
Going up to him, he said--
"Who art thou, and whence dost thou come?"
Bernardo put his hand into his bosom, and gave him what was then the
rules of the Order. This was in other words the Divine commission that
Francis had received through the Gospel for that February day, "Go ye
forth and preach the gospel, &c."
The doctor read it all through and then, turning to some of his
friends who were standing by, said--
"Truly, here is the most perfect state of religion I have ever heard
of; this man and his companions are the holiest men I have ever met
with in this world! Guilty indeed are those who insult him! We ought,
on the contrary, to honor him as a true friend of God!"
Then addressing Bernardo, he said--
"If it is thy wish to found a convent in this town, in which thou
mayst serve God, I will most willingly help thee."
Bernardo thanked him, and said--
"I believe it is our Saviour Jesus Christ who hast I inspired thee
with this good intention, I most willingly accept the offer, to the
honor of Christ."
Then the doctor took them home with him and entertained them, and
presented them with a convenient building, which he furnished at his
own expense.
In a short time, Bernardo was much sought after, on account of the
holiness, together with the brilliancy of his sermons. The whole town
was at his feet, people came from far and near to hear him, and
thousands were converted.
When things were at a height, Bernardo turned up unexpectedly one day
in Assisi, and presented himself before the astonished gaze of
Francis.
"The convent is founded at Bologna," he said, "send other brothers
there to keep it up, I can no longer be of any use; indeed, I fear me
that the too great honors I receive might make me lose more than I
could gain."
Francis, who had heard a great deal of the honor and praise that had
been lavished upon Bernardo, thanked God that He had revealed to him
the danger his soul was in, and sent someone else to Bologna.
[Sidenote: _Elias._]
In striking contrast to Bernardo was Elias. Elias was quite as clever
and brilliant a man as Bernardo, but he never seems to have become
really sanctified. His pride was a constant stumbling-block, and was
for ever appearing in some new shape or other. Sometimes it would be
in an over-weening desire to rule, and then his rule would go far and
beyond that of Francis', in fastings, and similar austerities. Again,
we have a picture of him arraying himself in a garment of soft cloth,
which could only be said to be "modelled" after that worn by his
brethren. Finally, he lapsed altogether, declared that his health was
too delicate to stand coarse food and plain living, and left the
Order. For some time he was an open backslider, but it is currently
supposed he was converted before he died. The story of his life is a
sad one. Looking back over these lapse of years, one can easily see
what he might have been, and how painfully he fell short. The grace of
humility never adorned his character for long. He could not see that
in God's sight he was less than least, for him it was impossible--
"To lay his intellectual treasure,
At the low footstool of the Crucified."
Egidio always remained faithful to his first trust. He also never
wavered, never looked back. In the different glimpses we get of his
life, we see very clearly the mode of living prescribed by Francis.
His intention was never that his disciples were to live on charity,
but that they should work for their bread, money being totally
forbidden. Work brought them down to the level of the common people,
and on the same plane they could more easily reach their hearts and
consciences.
[Sidenote: _A Question._]
Egidio, refined and educated though he undoubtedly was, seems to have
been able to put his hand to anything. When on a pilgrimage to the
Holy Land, he was detained at Brindisi, he borrowed a water jug, and,
filling it, went round the town selling water, and crying "Fresh
water! Fresh water!" like any of the ordinary water-carriers. On his
way back he procured willows, and made baskets, which he sold to
supply himself with food. He was always very particular not to take
more than he considered was fair for his work.
Obedience was another of Egidio's strong points. He believed in his
call, he believed in Francis, he never questioned an order, even when
it was manifestly not altogether a wise instruction he received, he
still considered that "obedience was better than sacrifice."
Masseo appears to have had very little idea what kind of a life he was
entering upon, when he first joined the band. He was not a spiritual
man by nature, but by degrees he learned to look at the inside of
things instead of the outside, and to know a little of the mind of
God. Masseo was big and handsome, with a decided gift of speech. We
are told that because of his physical attractions the people always
gave to him the nicest and daintiest portions of food. It was a matter
of no little wonderment to him when he discovered that for all a
certain kind of people were attracted by his appearance, yet he had
little or no power to convict them of sin, and make them long to be
good. Francis by this time had lost all his good looks and become pale
and worn and thin with work. Masseo compared himself with Francis
greatly to his superior's disadvantage. At last one day he said to
him--
"Why is it? Why is it?"
"What do you mean?" asked Francis.
"I mean to ask thee," said Masseo, "why all the world goes after thee?
Why all men wish to see thee, to hear thee, and to obey thy word? Thou
art not handsome, nor learned, nor of noble birth. How is it then that
men go after thee?"
The answer which Masseo received, made him see what kind of a
character he had come in contact with, and from that day there was no
more faithful and adoring disciple than handsome Masseo.
"Would you know the reason why all men come after me?" asked Francis.
"It is because the Lord has not found among men, a more wicked, a more
imperfect, or a greater sinner that I am, and to accomplish the
wonderful work He intends doing, He has not found a creature more vile
than I upon earth; for this reason He has chosen me to confound
beauty, greatness, birth, and all the science of the world, that man
may learn that every good gift comes from Him, and not from the
creature, that all may glory in the Lord!"
[Sidenote: _Sylvester's Avarice._]
Sylvester was the first priest who joined Francis. Though a priest, he
was possessed of very little true religion, and was inclined to be
somewhat avaricious. When Francis was rebuilding St. Damian, Sylvester
had sold him some stones, for which he had been well paid. Now, he
happened to be among the crowd in the market-place when Bernardo was
distributing his fortune, and it occurred to him that he would get
some of it for himself. So going up to Francis, he said,
"Brother, you did not pay me very well for the stones which you bought
of me."
Francis, who had not a spark of avarice in his nature, handed him a
handful of coins without stopping to count them, saying,
"Here, are you sufficiently paid now?"
"It is enough, my brother," said Sylvester, taking the money and
moving off.
But from that hour he never knew a moment's peace. His action haunted
him, he could neither sleep by night nor rest by day. The difference
between Francis and Bernardo and himself came vividly before him, he
repented of his sin, and as soon as ever his affairs would
permit--about a year later--he joined Francis.
There are some historians who declare that Ginepro was mad. The
majority, however, dispute this, and say that what looked like madness
was simply zeal--zeal, perhaps untempered with discretion. Ginepro was
devoted, self-sacrificing and faithful. He mourned over his mistakes,
and was always ready to acknowledge himself in the wrong. It was with
the greatest difficulty that he was taught that he mustn't give away
anything, and everything he could lay hands on. When he saw anyone
poor or ill-clothed, he would immediately take off his clothes and
hand them over. He was at last strictly forbidden to do this. A few
days later, he met a poor man who begged from him.
"I have nothing," said Ginepro, in great compassion, "which I could
give thee but my tunic, and I am under orders not to give that away.
But if thou wilt take it off my back I will not resist thee."
No sooner said than done, and Ginepro returned home tunicless. When
questioned he said--
"A good man took it off my back and went away with it."
It was necessary to clear everything portable out of Ginepro's way,
because whatever he could lay his hands on he gave to the poor.
[Sidenote: _Almost a Murder._]
His great humility on one occasion nearly led him to the gallows.
There was a cruel tyrant named Nicolas, a nobleman living near
Viterbo, whom all the town hated. This man had been warned that
someone would come in the guise of a poor beggar and take his life.
Nicolas gave orders that the castle was to be strictly guarded. A few
days later luckless Ginepro appeared in the vicinity of the castle. On
the way thither some young men had seized him, torn his cloak, and
covered him with dust, so that he was a sight to behold for rags and
dirt! As soon as he came near the castle he was taken as a suspicious
character and cruelly beaten. He was asked who he was.
"I am a great sinner," was the answer. He certainly looked like a
ruffian!
When further asked his designs he explained,
"I am a great traitor, and unworthy of any mercy."
Then they asked if he meant to burn the castle and kill Nicolas.
"Worse things than these would I do, only for God," he replied. Such
a hardened, boldfaced criminal never stood before a bar!
He was taken, tied to a horse's tail, and dragged through the town to
the gallows. If it had not been for the intervention of a good man in
the crowd, who knew the friars, he would have been hung.
[Sidenote: _Ginepro's Dinner._]
"Brother Ginepro," said one of the friars one day, "we are all going
out, and by the time we come back will you have got us a little
refreshment?"
"Most willingly," said Ginepro, "leave it to me."
Out he went with a sack, and asked food from door to door for his
brethren. Soon he was well laden and returned home.
"What a pity it is," said Ginepro to himself, as he put on two great
pots, "that a brother should be lost in the kitchen! I shall cook
enough dinner to serve us for two weeks to come, and then we'll give
ourselves to prayer."
So saying, he piled in everything, salt meat, fresh meat, eggs in their
shells, chickens with the feathers on, and vegetables. One of the friars
who returned before the others, was amazed to see the two enormous pots
on a roaring fire with Ginepro poking at them alternately, protected
from the heat by a board he had fastened round his neck. At last dinner
was ready, and, pouring it out before the hungry friars, he said
complacently,
"Eat a good dinner now, and then we'll go to prayer, there'll be no
more cooking for a long time to come, for I have cooked enough for a
fortnight."
Alas! one historian informs us, "there was never a hog in the campagna
of Rome so hungry that he could have eaten it."
But, in spite of all the curious tales we read about the blunderings
of this simple soul, his name has been handed down through the ages as
that of a saint; for the highway of holiness is such that a wayfaring
man, though a fool, shall not err therein.
[Sidenote: _A True Franciscan._]
Leo, whom they called "the little sheep of God," who became Francis'
secretary, was one of the best loved of the disciples. In Leo,
Francis' soul found rest and help and comfort. His nature was simple,
affectionate and refined, and in every respect he was a true
Franciscan.
There are others whose names we find among the early Franciscans, but
the foregoing are those who stand out most prominently.