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The Story of Assisi
"Between Tupino, and the wave that falls
From blest Ubaldo's chosen hill, there hangs
Rich slope of mountain high, whence heat and cold
Are wafted through Perugia's eastern gate:
And Nocera with Gualdo, in its rear,
Mourn for their heavy yoke. Upon that side,
Where it doth break its steepness most, arose
A sun upon the world, as duly this
From Ganges doth: therefore let none who speak
Of that place, say Ascesi; for its name
Were lamely so deliver'd; but the East,
To call things rightly, be it henceforth styled."
DANTE, _Paradiso_, xi. (Cary's translation).
[Illustration: _P. Lunghi. Photo._
_Statue of St. Francis._
_by Andrea della Robbia in Sta. Maria degli Angeli._]
The Story of Assisi
by Lina Duff Gordon
Illustrated by Nelly Erichsen
and M. Helen James
London: J. M. Dent & Co.
Aldine House, 29 and 30 Bedford Street
Covent Garden, W.C. 1901
_First Edition, December 1900_
_Second Edition, October 1901_
_All rights reserved_
_To
Margaret Vaughan_
_this small book is affectionately dedicated
in remembrance of days spent together
in the Umbrian country_
NOTE
My sincerest thanks are due to my aunt Mrs Ross, to Mrs Vaughan, Dr E.
Percival Wright, M. Paul Sabatier, Mr Sidney Colvin, Sir William
Markby and Mr Pearsall Smith, for the help rendered me in various ways
during the writing of this book. I wish further to acknowledge the
kindness of Mr Roger Fry who allowed me to quote from his lectures on
Art delivered this year in London, before they were published in the
_New Monthly Review_; and also the generous permission of Mr Anderson
(Rome), and Signor Lunghi (Assisi), for allowing me to use their
photographs. For the loan of old Italian books I am indebted to Cav.
Bruschi, Librarian of the Marucelliana at Florence, to Professor
Bellucci, Professor of the University of Perugia, and to Signor Rossi,
proprietor of the Hotel Subasio at Assisi, whose intimate knowledge of
his native town has been of great service to me.
L. D. G.
POGGIO GHERARDO,
FLORENCE, _October 1900_.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
_War and Strife_ 1
CHAPTER II
_The Umbrian Prophet_ 39
CHAPTER III
_The Carceri, Rivo-Torto and Life at the
Portiuncula_ 81
CHAPTER IV
_The building of the Basilica and Convent of
San Francesco. The Story of Brother
Elias_ 117
CHAPTER V
_Cimabue and his School at San Francesco_ 149
CHAPTER VI
_The Paintings of Giotto and his School in the
Lower Church_ 168
CHAPTER VII
_The Sienese Masters in the Lower Church.
The Convent_ 198
CHAPTER VIII
_Giotto's Legend of St. Francis in the Upper
Church_ 228
CHAPTER IX
_St. Clare at San Damiano. The Church of
Santa Chiara_ 258
CHAPTER X
_Other Buildings in the Town_ 289
CHAPTER XI
_The Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. The
Feast of the Pardon of St. Francis or
the "Perdono d'Assisi"_ 335
ILLUSTRATIONS
_Statue of St. Francis by Andrea della Robbia in
Sta. Maria degli Angeli_
(_P. Lunghi--photo_) _Photogravure-Frontispiece_
PAGE
_The Temple of Minerva_ 3
_The Eastern Slope of Assisi with the Castle,
from the Porta Cappucini_ 10
_The Guelph Lion of Assisi_ 22
_The Arms of Assisi_ 37
_Assisi in the time of St. Francis_ 38
_Via di S. Maria delle Rose_ 58
_The Arms of the Franciscans_ 80
_Hermitage of the Carceri_ 82
_The Carceri with a View of the Bridge_ 89
_Side Door of the Portiuncula built by St. Benedict_ 99
_The Portiuncula in the time of St. Francis, from
the "Collis Paradisi"_ 107
_Assisi from the Plain_ 113
_Church and Convent of San Francesco_ 127
_San Francesco from the Plain_ 147
_The Lower Church_ 150
_Looking through the doors of the Upper Church
towards the Porta S. Giacomo and the
Castle_ 157
_Plan of the Lower Church and Monastery of
San Francesco at Assisi_ (_facing_) 168
_Choir and Transepts of the Lower Church_ 172
_The Marriage of St. Francis with Poverty_
(_D. Anderson--photo_) 179
_The Old Cemetery of San Francesco_ 194
_The Knighthood of St. Martin by Simone Martini_
(_D. Anderson--photo_) 201
_Bird's Eye View of the Basilica and Convent
of San Francesco, from a drawing made in
1820_ 213
_San Francesco from the Tescio_ 217
_Staircase leading from the Upper to the Lower
Piazza of San Francesco_ 220
_San Francesco from the Ponte S. Vittorino_ 222
_A Friar of the Minor Conventual Order of St.
Francis_ 225
_St. Francis Renounces the World_
(_D. Anderson--photo_) 233
_Death of the Knight of Celano_
(_D. Anderson--photo_) 247
_Arms of the Franciscans from the Intarsia of
the Stalls_ 257
_Door through which St. Clare left the Palazzo
Scifi_ 262
_San Damiano, showing the Window with the
Ledge whence St. Claire routed the Saracens_ 268
_Santa Chiara_ 282
_Santa Chiara from near the Porta Mojano_ 287
_Campanile of San Rufino_ 290
_Door of San Rufino_ 295
_The Dome and Apse of San Rufino from the
Canon's Garden_ 298
_Campanile of Sta. Maria Maggiore_ 309
_Church of Sta. Maria Maggiore_ 310
_Church of S. Pietro_ 313
_Confraternity of San Francescuccio in Via
Garibaldi_ 315
_Monte Frumentorio in the Via Principe di
Napoli_ 320
_House of the Comacine Builders in the Via
Principe di Napole_ 322
_Looking across the Assisan roofs towards the
East_ 325
_View of San Francesco from beneath the Castle
Walls_ 332
_The Garden of the Roses at Sta. Maria degli
Angeli_ 339
_The Fonte Marcella by Galeazzo Alessi_ 346
_An Assisan Garden in Via Garibaldi_ 347
_Umbrian Oxen_ 349
_Women from the Basilicata_ 351
_San Francesco_ 356
_Plan of Assisi_ 372
The Story of Assisi
CHAPTER I
_War and Strife_
"C'etait le temps des guerres sans pitie et des inimities
mortelles." H. TAINE. _Voyage en Italie._ _Perouse et Assise._
All who ascend the hill of the Seraphic City must feel its
indescribable charm--intangible, mysterious, and quite distinct from
the beauty of the Umbrian valley. "Why," we ask ourselves, "this
stillness and sense of marvellous peace in every church and every
street?" And, as though conscious of our thoughts, a young Assisan,
with a gesture of infinite sadness towards the large, desolate palaces
and broad deserted streets, said, as we lingered on our way: "Ah!
Signore mie, our city is a city of the dead--of memories only." As he
spoke a long procession of a grey-clothed confraternity, bearing on
their breasts the franciscan badge, preceded by a priest who walked
beneath a baldachino, streamed out of a small church. Slowly they
passed down the road, and then the priest turned into a wayside
cottage where lay a dying woman, while the others waited outside under
the olive trees. But the sound of their chanting and the tinkling of
the small bell came to us as we leaned over the city walls. Of a truth
we felt the religious life of the town was not dead: perchance, down
those streets, now so still, men had passed along to battle during
the sad turmoil of the middle ages, had hated and loved as well as
prayed, with all the fervour of their southern nature. We must turn to
the early chroniclers to find in their fascinating pages that Assisi
has had her passionate past and her hours of deepest trial.
Her origin goes back to the days when the Umbrians, one of the most
ancient people of Italy, inhabited the country north and south of the
Tiber, and lived a wild life in caves. But the past is very dim; some
Umbrian inscriptions, a few flint arrow heads, and some hatchets made
of jade found on the shore of lake Thrasymene are the only records we
possess of these early settlers.
If written history of their ways and origin is lacking, the later
chroniclers of Assisi endeavour to supply with their gossip, what is
missing. Rambling and strange as their legends often seem to us,
nevertheless they contain a germ of truth, an image, faint but partly
true of a time so infinitely far away. Most of the local Umbrian
historians have awarded the honour of the foundation of their own
particular town to the earliest heroes whom they happen to know of,
and these are invariably Noah and his family. It is, therefore,
curious to note that the Assisan chroniclers have departed from this
custom and have woven for themselves a legend so different from the
usual friar's tale: "Various are the opinions," says one of them,
"concerning the first building of our city; but the most probable, and
the most universally accepted by serious writers, is the one which
gives Dardanus as her founder. In the year 713 after the Deluge, and
865 years before the foundation of Rome, the first civil war in Italy
broke out between the brothers Jasius and Dardanus, both sons of
Electra; but the father of Jasius was Jupiter, while Dardanus was the
son of Corythus, King of Cortona." The people of Umbria took sides,
as some would have it that Jasius ought to be king in the place of the
dead prince Corythus. Now it happened that Dardanus had pitched his
tent on the slope of Mount Subasio, when a dream came to him that
Jupiter and Minerva were preparing to assail the enemy, and that
Jasius would be vanquished. On waking he determined, should his dream
be true, to raise a temple to the goddess on the spot where he had
slept. He went forth to battle, and with the help of the goddess drove
the enemy back with great slaughter; Jasius was killed and they buried
him on the field of battle. "Full well did Dardanus keep his vow, for
in a few months there arose a wonderful building, now known as the
sacred temple, dedicated to the true Minerva of Heaven, under the name
of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. Thus it is that the country round Assisi
has been called _Palladios agros_, the fields of Pallas."[1]
[Illustration: THE TEMPLE OF MINERVA]
And thus the monk dreams on about the Seraphic Province of Umbria; and
we dream with him of the Umbrians who forsook the chase and their
shepherd huts on the heights about Subasio, to gather round the
marvellous temple built by the hero ere he went forth to found the
city of Troy. People came from afar to look at the six-fluted columns,
and while marvelling at a thing so fair, they resolved to build their
homes within sight and under the shadow of the sacred walls. Here was
the nucleus of a future town. The simple shelters of cane and
brushwood were soon replaced by huts of a neater pattern made of
wattle and clay, with earthen floors, rounded porches and pent roofs.
The dwellers by the temple throve and prospered, and all was peace for
a while, until the van-guard of that mysterious people, the Etruscans,
appeared on the Umbrian horizon. We are told how Dardanus, while
visiting the King of Lydia on his way to Troy, drew such a
highly-coloured picture of the loveliness of Tuscany, the fruitful
qualities of the soil, and the lightness of the air, that Tyrrhenus,
the king's son, was immediately sent with a large army to take
possession of so rich a province. Then came a struggle, and the
Umbrian tribes were driven back south of the Tiber, which henceforth
strictly defined the boundary between Umbria and Etruria.
Immediately to the west of Assisi, and on the longest spur of hills
which juts out into the valley of the Tiber, stood the now Etruscan
city of Perugia, to which a band of Etruscans had lately immigrated.
The huge, grim walls which grew up round it after the advent of the
new settlers, the narrow pointed gateways, some guarded by heads of
stern and unknown deities, the general menacing and ferocious aspect
of its buildings, soon warned the smaller Umbrian cities of what they
might in coming ages expect from her inhabitants. It is probable that
skirmishes were frequent between the neighbouring towns of Assisi and
Perugia, and to judge from the subterranean passages which still exist
beneath the streets of the former place, we may gather that she was
open to constant attacks, and that her inhabitants found it more
prudent to disappear underground at the approach of enemies than to
meet them in open battle. These subterranean galleries, cut in the
soft tufa, extend for miles under the present city: branching out in
all directions they form a veritable labyrinth of secret passages.
Here swiftly and silently as the foe advanced, men and women with
their children would disappear into the bowels of the earth, some
being occasionally buried beneath masses of soil shaken down by the
tramp of many feet above them. Repeated dangers of this sort at last
decided the Assisans to meet their enemies in more war-like fashion,
and to surround themselves--as Perugia had done--with stones and
mortar. Soon the town bristled with towers and turreted gateways, and
the houses, no longer built of wattle and mud, began to foreshadow the
strongly fortified palaces of a later date. None too soon did Assisi
prepare for war. In the year 309 B.C. the shrill sound of the Roman
clarion echoed through the Cimminian forest. It roused Etruria to
arms, proclaiming the fact that the Romans had dared to penetrate
beyond this dangerous barrier which hitherto had been deemed
impassable. The Etruscans and Umbrians, forgetting all their former
strifes, now joined against the new power which threatened to crush
their liberties. The battles which followed beneath the walls of
Perugia, and by Bevagna in the plain of the Clitumnus, brought all
Umbria, in the space of a single year, under the yoke of Rome.
And now, although we leave the fields of legend and enter those of
history, we find but little mention of Assisi: this is, however,
easily accounted for. Built upon the unfrequented slopes of Mount
Subasio, like a flower gradually opening to the sun's rays, she was
far more secure than her neighbour Perugia who, commanding and
commanded by the road from Rome to Ravenna, along which an army
passed, stood in haughty and uncompromising pre-eminence. The
comparatively obscure position of Assisi therefore gave her long
periods of peace, and these she employed in building innumerable
temples, a theatre, and a circus. It is impossible to excavate in any
part of Assisi without coming upon relics of that time. Statues and
busts of the Caesars, of gods and of consuls, are lying in dark corners
of the communal palace, and broken fragments of delicately-wrought
friezes and heads of goddesses, half buried in bushes of oleander,
adorn the Assisan gardens. Beneath the foundations of the more modern
houses, mosaic floors and frescoed walls have been found, showing that
Assisi had her years of early splendour. But full of life and action
as this Roman period was, it is as completely hidden from us as are
the temples now buried beneath the present town. It passed rapidly
away, and yet is of some importance in the history of the world as
having witnessed the birth of Sex. Aurelius Propertius, great among
the poets even at a time when Virgil, Horace, and a host of others
were filling Italy with their song.
Many an Umbrian town prides itself on being the birthplace of
Propertius. The people of Spello have even placed a tablet in their
walls to claim him as her son; but the Assisans, ignoring the rivalry
of others, very quietly point to the many inscriptions of the
Propertius' family collected beneath the portico of the Temple of
Minerva. One may be noticed referring to C. Passennus Sergius Paullus
Propertius Blaesus, said to be a lineal descendant of the poet, who is
supposed to have married after the death of the fair Cynthia, and
returned to his native valley to pass his last days in domestic
tranquillity. Angelo Poliziano, on the margin of an early edition of
the poet's works now in the Laurentian Library of Florence, has made a
note to the effect that Propertius, as well as St. Francis, was born
at Assisi; and certainly modern writers assign the honour to Assisi.
The somewhat vague utterances of Propertius as to his native town seem
to show that the position of Assisi, with regard to Perugia and the
plain, more nearly coincides with his description than that of any
other city in the valley or on the hills. To one inquisitive friend he
answers: "Tullus, thou art ever entreating me in the name of our
friendship to tell thee my country and my descent. If thou knowest
Perusia, which gave a field of death and a sepulchre to our father and
in Italy's hour of affliction, when domestic discord drove Rome's own
citizens one against the other--(Ah! hills of Etruria, to me beyond
measure have ye given sorrow, for ye suffered the limbs of my kinsman
to be cast aside unburied, and denied the handful of dust to cover his
bones)--there it was that, close above the margin of her plain spread
below, Umbria, rich in fertile domains, gave me birth."[2] The kinsman
spoken of here is a certain Gallus, who lost his life in B.C. 41, when
Lucius Antonius was besieged in Perugia by Augustus. The horrors of
the general massacre which followed the fall of the city left sad
memories in the mind of Propertius, then a mere child. In the general
confiscation of property after the battle of Philippi his family lost
their estates. But poor as they were, Propertius was sent to Rome to
study, where, recognised as the leader of a new school of poetry, he
remained until shortly before his death, at the age of thirty-five.
His paternal estates having been restored to him, he forsook the
splendour of the Augustan court, the patronage of Maecenas, the
friendship of Virgil, and returned to the Umbrian country where his
first inspirations had been awakened. The contrast between a house and
garden on the Palatine hill, in the midst of the stir of Roman life,
and a farm by the silent stream flowing through the stillest of
valleys, must have been great. But, judging from his description of
the country, he seems to have fallen readily into rural ways, and
loved to watch the herds of white oxen, dedicated to the service of
the goddesses, grazing close to the banks of the Clitumnus. We may
infer that he hunted the "timorous hare and birds" in the thick oak
forest of the Spoletan valley, but, as he playfully tells us, he left
"the hazardous boar alone," for physical courage was not one of his
characteristics.
From the plain his eyes were often raised in the direction of Assisi,
and to his familiarity with her towers we owe this exquisite
description of his birthplace, which, perhaps out of modesty, as he
alludes to his own fame, he places in the mouth of a soothsayer:
"Ancient Umbria gave thee birth from a noted household. Do I mistake,
or do I touch rightly the region of your home, where misty Mevania
stands among the dews of the hill-girt plain, and the waters of the
Umbrian lake grow warm the summer through, and where on the summit of
mounting Asis rise the walls to which your genius has added glory."[3]
Nothing happens, or at least nothing is mentioned in Assisan
chronicles until Christianity stealthily worked its way up from Rome
about the third century. Then bloodshed followed during a period of
darkness when Christians and pagans divided the town into factions by
their bitter fights for religion. At first the Christians suffered,
and many were martyred in the Umbrian rivers, but only to triumph
later when Roman Assisi soon vanished and Christian basilicas were
built on the site of pagan temples. Although, after the Roman period,
we find Assisi more nearly linked with the general history of Italy,
she appears uninfluenced by outside events, and her atmosphere of
remoteness remains unimpaired. Thus we may say that Huns, Franks, and
Lombards merely passed by and left no lasting mark upon the city. For
a moment she was suddenly aroused by the tempestuous arrival of one or
other of their leaders, but once the danger was past she returned to
her calm sleep upon the mountain side.
In 545 Totila, on his march to Rome, arrived before the walls of
Assisi which were gallantly defended for the Emperor Justinian by
Siegfried the Goth, but unfortunately he being killed in a skirmish
with the Huns, the disheartened citizens reluctantly opened their
gates to the enemy. For the first time in her annals (the Roman
occupation had been peaceful enough) a foreigner--a tyrant set foot in
her streets as master. But the restless Totila soon began to scan the
country round for other cities to attack. Becoming aware of the large
and wealthy city of Perugia perched upon the western hill, he sallied
forth to capture a bigger prey, and Assisi enjoyed a further spell of
peace.
[Illustration: THE EASTERN SLOPE OF ASSISI WITH THE CASTLE, FROM THE
PORTA CAPPUCCINI]
In reading the long-winded chronicles it is often difficult to gather
to which power the various small towns at this time belonged. One
point is, however, clear, that during endless contentions between the
Popes and the Greek, and later the German Emperors, the Umbrian
cities were often left to manage their own affairs, and because of the
periods of rest which they thus enjoyed and used in their individual
ways, we are inclined to speak of them as republics. For a long time
Assisi remained annexed to the Duchy of Spoleto, then under the rule
of the Lombard Dukes whose advent had filled the different cities in
the valley with Arian Christians, unfriendly to the Papacy. Assisi,
together with other towns swerved from her allegiance to the Pope, and
it is perhaps on this account that Charlemagne in 773 with his
"terrible and fierce followers" came to besiege her. They laid the
country waste, and made many attacks upon Assisi which met with stout
resistance; but while prowling round the walls one night they found
the main drain, and stealing through it they were able to discover the
weakest part of the town. Next night they returned well armed, slew
the guards who were keeping watch by the midnight fires, and before
the citizens could rush to arms, the gates were opened to Charlemagne.
The army passed in, her citizens were put to the sword, and the town
razed to the ground.
"Thus," says a chronicler, "Assisi bereft of her inhabitants, found
herself an unhappy widow. Then was the most clement emperor grieved,
and ordering that the city should be rebuilt, he placed therein a new
colony of Christians of the Roman faith, and the city was restored,
and in it the Divine Worship."[4]
A small arched doorway ornamented with a delicate frieze of foliage
still remains as a record of the rebuilding of the city by
Charlemagne's Lombard workmen. The stone is blackened, the tracery
worn away. Few find this dark corner in the Piazza delle Rose, and the
people wonder at those who stop to look, for "it is ugly and very
old," they say.
It was probably at this time, towards the end of the eighth century,
that the Rocca d'Assisi was built. This made her a more important
factor in Umbrian politics; and leaders of armies, who hitherto had
paid her but a hurried visit, now vied with each other to possess a
city with so fair a crown. The citizens had chosen for the site of the
castle the part where the hill rises in a sudden peak above the town,
looking to the north across a deep ravine towards the mountains of
Gualdo and Nocera. Above the main building and the four crenelated
towers soared the castle keep; from the ramparts started two lines of
walls which, going east and west, gathered the town as it were within
a nest. At intervals rose forts connected by a covered passage, and
tall towers guarded the walls where they joined the city gates. The
Rocca d'Assisi with this chain of walls bristling with iron spikes and
towers, complete in strength and perfect in architecture, looked down
upon the town like some guarding deity, and was the pride of every
citizen. It was no gloomy stronghold such as the French kings erected
in the woods of Tourraine, but built of the yellow Subasian stone it
seemed more like a mighty palace with windows large and square, whence
many a _condottiere_ and many a noble prisoner leant out to look upon
the splendid sweep of country from Perugia to Spoleto.
Proud as the citizens were of their new-born importance they soon
regretted the calmer days of their obscurity. By the twelfth
century they were torn between the Pope, the Emperor, and their own
turbulent factions, for even in the smaller towns the cries of Guelph
and Ghibelline were beginning to be heard. Whenever German
potentates--"the abhorred Germans" as the chroniclers call them--had
their hands well clenched upon an Umbrian town, the citizens turned
imploring eyes towards Rome. The promise of municipal liberty was the
bait which every pontiff knew well how to use for his own profit. The
German, on the other hand, troubled not to use diplomacy as a means
to gain his ends, but brought an army to storm the town, and took up
his residence in the castle, whence he could hear the murmurings of
the citizens below planning to drive him out of their gates. The first
distinguished but unwelcome guest in the Rocca d'Assisi was Frederick
Barbarossa. He was, however, too much occupied in his career of
conquest to waste more than a few weeks in Umbria, and in 1195 we find
Conrad of Suabia, who in the annals of the time is known by the
nickname of "the whimsical one," in charge of the castle, with the
title of Count of Assisi. Conrad was also Duke of Spoleto, but he
preferred the fortress of Assisi as a residence and spent some two
years there to the annoyance of the citizens, who were constrained to
be more or less on their good behaviour. With him in those days was a
small but important person, who, at the age of two, had been elected
King of Germany and Italy. This was Frederick II, and the legend
recounts how he was born in the Piazza Minerva beneath a tent hastily
erected for the occasion, and in his third year was baptised in the
Cathedral of San Rufino, amidst a throng of cardinals, bishops,
Assisan priors and nobles. It would, indeed, be strange that he, who
later was to prove a thorn in the side of many a Pope, should have
been born and nurtured in the Seraphic City.
The Assisans soon wearied of the German yoke, but unaided they could
not throw it off and it needed the timely intervention of Innocent
III, to rid them of Conrad's presence. The Pope, who had been quietly
waiting an opportunity to regain his lost Umbrian towns, felt himself
powerful enough now that the Emperor Henry VI, was dead, to send
haughty commands to Conrad. He was bidden to meet Innocent at Narni
where he solemnly made over his possessions to the Church. Thus left
to themselves, the Assisans, with cries of "Liberty and the Pope,"
rushed on the castle to tear it down. Built to be their safeguard, it
proved their greatest danger, and they determined that no other tyrant
should find shelter within its walls. While the Assisans were
rejoicing in their freedom, and endeavouring to guard against the
constant attacks of the Perugians, the big world outside was being
torn and rent by a medley of events which was carrying men's thoughts
forward in the swift current of a fresh era. Everywhere a new spirit
was spreading--"the fraternising spirit" it has been called. In the
cities men were joining together in guilds, heralding the
commonwealths; while, in the country, bands of people, under the names
of Patarins, Albergenses, Poor Men of Lyons, etc., raised the standard
of revolt yet higher against their feudal and spiritual lords. A
contemporary writer speaks of thirty-two heresies as being rampant in
Italy at this time. Men were eager and full of energy, finding relief
through many channels that set all Italy in a ferment. But amidst the
confusion of wars and heresies the Papal power grew ever stronger,
until, with the accession of Innocent III, the claims of a temporal
ruler were blended with spiritual rights. The Marches of Ancona,
Umbria, and the seven hills of Rome belonged alike to him, while he
was powerful enough to excommunicate cities, kingdoms, and emperors at
his pleasure, and rule all with a rod of iron. The magnificent designs
planned by Hildebrand seemed to triumph under Innocent, and yet the
papal horizon was not without its clouds.
"Ah Constantine! of how much ill was cause,
Not thy conversion, but those rich domains
That the first wealthy Pope received of thee,"[5]
groans Dante, in writing of the condition of the Church, and his cry
reaches back to the time of which we write. Jacques de Vitry, who was
often at the court of Innocent, also speaks with bitterness of the
depravity of the priests. They were, he tells us, "deceiving as foxes,
proud as bulls, avaricious and insatiable as the minotaur."
Innocent III, though scheming and ambitious, was a man of lofty
character, and no one watched with so much anguish the rising storms
which threatened to shake the mighty fabric of the Papacy. In a moment
of discouragement he is said to have exclaimed that fire and sword
were needed to heal the wounds made by the simoniacal priests, and for
a long time he in vain sought a remedy for those ills. But salvation
was at hand, and it came from the Umbrian mountains, as the fresh
breeze comes which suddenly breaks upon the budding trees in
springtime.
Within the narrow circuit of the Assisan walls arose a figure of
magical power who drew men to him by the charm of his mysticism and
the spell of his ardent nature. It is the sweet-souled saint of
mediaeval Italy--St. Francis of Assisi--who now illuminates this quiet
corner of the world.
Francis Bernardone was born in the year 1182, when, as we have seen,
the Church was harrowed by a hundred ills. He passed a gay youth, free
from every care, and tested all the pleasures that riches could
procure. Though the son of a merchant he consorted with the noblest of
the Assisan youths, who, partly on account of his father's wealth,
partly because of his gaiety and love of splendour, were glad to
accept him as an equal. All looked to the high-spirited, gifted
Francis as the leader at every feast, the organiser of every
entertainment, and when Perugia blew her war-trumpet he rode out to
battle side by side with the Assisan cavaliers. Such, in a few words,
was his position in Assisi when in his twenty-second year, after a
severe illness which brought him to the brink of the grave, he
resolved to follow to the letter the precept of the Gospel and lead
the life of the first apostles. So complete was his conversion that
he, the rich merchant's son, was to be seen walking through the
streets with bricks on his back for the repair of the ruined churches
of Assisi, while his former companions drew back and laughed as he
passed them. But their derision was of short duration, for the charm
they had felt in former days had by no means passed away. Holiness
could never make him sad, and in the human tenderness and joyousness
of his nature lay the secret of that power which was strong enough,
the Assisans soon discovered, to lead them where he would--though it
was now by a new road he travelled.
The great movement, which began at Assisi and spread throughout Europe
in a very few years, can only be likened to that witnessed by the lake
of Galilee. Rich citizens gave all to the poor; the peasants left the
vintage and sold their oxen, to join the ever-swelling crowd of
bare-footed disciples who wandered through cities and into distant
lands bringing comfort and words of peace to all they met. Like a ray
of brilliant sunshine St. Francis dispersed the gloom of the middle
ages, teaching men that the qualities of mercy and love were to be
looked for from God instead of the inflexible justice that had
overshadowed a religion intended to be all light. He walked the earth
with joyous steps, inviting all to come with him and see how beautiful
was the world; he looked upwards, praising God in bursts of eloquent
song for the rain that fed the flowers, the birds that sang to him in
the woods, and the blueness of his Umbrian sky. How different from the
stern, orthodox saints who passed through the loveliest valleys with
downcast eyes for fear of some hidden temptation or of some
interruption to their prayers! With such a founder it is hardly
surprising that the order of St. Francis spread and multiplied,
becoming a great world force, as great and perhaps greater than that
of St. Dominic. We get an interesting picture of the change he wrought
throughout Italy and of the enthusiasm he kindled among his followers
in a letter of Jacques de Vitry; from this we quote at length, for,
being written by a contemporary of the saint, its value is very great.
"While I was at the pontifical court I saw many things which grieved
me to the heart. Everyone is so preoccupied with secular and temporal
things, with matters concerning kings and kingdoms, litigations and
lawsuits, that it is almost impossible to talk on religious matters.
"Yet I found one subject for consolation in those lands: in that many
persons of either sex, rich, and living in the great world, leave all
for the love of Christ and renounce the world. They are called the
Friars Minor, and are held in great respect by the Pope and the
Cardinals. They, on their part, care nought for things temporal, and
strive hard every day to tear perishing souls from the vanities of
this world and to entice them into their ranks. Thanks be to God,
their labour has already borne fruit, and they have gained many souls:
inasmuch as he who listens to them brings others, and thus one
audience creates another.
"They live according to the rule of the primitive church, of which it
is written: 'The multitude of believers were as one heart and one
soul.' In the day they go into the cities and the villages to gain
over souls and to work; in the night they betake themselves to
hermitages and solitary places and give themselves up to
contemplation.
"The women live together near to cities in divers convents; they
accept nought, but live by the labour of their hands. They are much
disturbed to find themselves held in greater esteem, both by the
clergy and the laity, than they themselves desire.
"The men of this order meet once a year in some pre-arranged place, to
their great profit, and rejoice together in the Lord and eat in
company; and then, with the help of good and honest men, they adopt
and promulgate holy institutions, approved by the Pope. After this
they disperse, going about in Lombardy, Tuscany, and even in Apulia
and Sicily, for the rest of the year.... I think it is to put the
prelates to shame, who are like dogs unable to bark, that the Lord
wills to save many souls before the end of the world, by means of
these poor simple friars."[6]
Certainly one of the most remarkable events in mediaeval history was
the result of the teaching of St. Francis upon his own and future
generations. In his native city the strength of his personal influence
and the love and veneration which he excited was extraordinary. But we
notice even a stranger fact; with his death this holy influence
apparently vanished, and it is possible that the memory of the saint
is dearer to the hearts of the Assisans in what we are inclined to
call the prosaic tedium of our trafficking nineteenth century, than it
was in the years immediately following his death. Later centuries have
shown us that his teaching and his presence there were not in vain.
Assisi, down to our own times, has continued to be the Mecca of
thousands of pilgrims. Her churches bear the record of infinite early
piety, for when art was in its early prime the most famous masters
from Tuscany were called upon to decorate the Franciscan Basilica and
leave their choicest treasures there as tributes to the immortal glory
of the saint. But the note of war rings louder than the song of praise
and love for many years to come in all the Assisan chronicles, and
grass and weeds grow up to choke, though not to kill, the blessed seed
that Francis sowed and did not live to tend. No sooner did the gates
of death close upon that sweet and genial spirit, than war, lust,
strife and pestilence burst upon the very people he had so tenderly
loved. The story of Assisi becomes, as it had never been before, a
list of murders--of struggles to the death for individual power, and
of wars which made the fair Umbrian country a desolate and cruel waste
for months and even years.
Each town looked with hatred upon its powerful rival, and the communal
armies were for ever meeting in the plain by the Tiber to match their
strength and see if some small portion at least of a city's domains
could not be wrested from her. The bitterest and most pronounced
enemies in the valley were undoubtedly Assisi and Perugia. Their feuds
date back to the twelfth century; but even before the Christian era
these two cities of the hills had marked each other as a foe for the
one was Umbrian, the other Etruscan, and they merely continued the
rivalry of their founders. It is often difficult to discover the cause
of each separate war, but it may, as a general rule, be traced to
Perugia's inborn love of fighting, and to her restless spirit which
led her to storm each town in turn. From her eyrie she looked straight
down upon half the Umbrian country, and gazing daily on so fair a land
the desire for possession grew ever stronger. Many towns were forced
to submit to her sway, and by the thirteenth century she was the
acknowledged mistress of Umbria. It is, therefore, with surprise and
admiration that we watch the undaunted struggle of Assisi against a
tyrant whom she hated with a hatred quite Dantesque in its bitterness
and strength. Many menacing towers were built on either side of the
valley, and heralds were continually sent between the two towns with
insulting messages to goad the citizens forward into battle. When
Perugia was known to be preparing for an attack upon Assisi, the
castles and villages around hastened to break their allegiance to the
weaker city and ally themselves with the Perugian griffin. Assisi was
thus often obliged to defend herself unaided against the Umbrian
tyrant. When, in 1321 Perugia declared war against "this most wicked
city of Assisi" whose crime consisted in having fallen under the rule
of the Ghibelline party of her citizens,[7] both communes were in need
of money as their bellicose habits had proved expensive. Busily,
therefore, they set to work about procuring it, and in a highly
characteristic manner Perugia sold her right of fishing in Thrasymene
for five years, while the citizens of the Seraphic City entered by
force into the sacristy of San Francesco and carried off a quantity of
sacred spoils. Gold ornaments, censers, chalices, crucifixes of rare
workmanship and precious stuffs, were divided into lots and sold,
partly to Arezzo for 14,000 golden florins, and partly to Florence for
a larger sum. Now these things did not even belong to the Franciscans,
but had been carefully stored in the sacristy by the Pope and his
cardinals during their last visit to the town. Great, therefore, was
the wrath at the Papal Court when news came of the sacrilegious
robbery, and without a moment's delay a bull of excommunication was
fulminated from Avignon. For thirty-eight years Assisi lay under the
heavy sentence of an interdict, and, except for the feast of the
"Pardon of St. Francis," the church doors were closed and the church
bells were silent. But not a whit did the people care for the anger of
a distant Pope, and it is related that when the two friars brought the
bull of excommunication to Ser Muzio di Francesco, the leader of the
robbers, they were flogged within an inch of their lives, and further,
they were made to swallow the seals of lead which hung from the Papal
document.
The Assisans, having obtained the necessary funds, set to work to
defend themselves against the enemy who were to be seen rolling their
heavy catapults along the dusty roads. A proud historian says, "they
saw without flinching 500 horsemen galloping round their walls," and
with a heroism worthy of so good a cause, determined to be buried in
the ruins of their city sooner than cede one step to their abhorred
enemies the Perugians. They closed the shops, barred the houses and
threw the chains across the streets to stop advancing cavalry; every
artisan turned soldier, every noble watched from the tower of his
palace. Not only were they guarding their own liberties, but they
feared for the safety of the body of St. Francis, which the Perugians,
ever prowling day and night about the walls, were anxious to carry
off. The siege, it is said, lasted a year, when the Assisans were
forced to give way and open their gates to the enemy, who sacked the
town, "killing more than one hundred of the most wicked citizens, to
wit, all those who fought against the city of Perugia." Then came a
perilous moment, for many, not content with a barbarous pillage,
wished to destroy Assisi altogether. Fortunately a wily Perugian,
Massiolo di Buonante, stood up in her defence, arguing that "Assisi
being now in their power, it were better to possess her fortified, and
well provided against any new attack of the Ghibelline party."[8] His
words had due effect, but still the town suffered horribly, and her
walls only lately built were in greater part razed to the ground. The
chains that guarded the streets together with the bars and keys of the
gates were taken back to Perugia, where, until a century ago, they
hung "as glorious trophies" from the claws of the bronze griffon
outside the Palazzo Pubblico. Before leaving, the Perugians gave their
orders to the now submissive city. The Guelphs were to live within the
ancient circle of walls in the upper and more fortified part of the
town, while the Ghibellines were left in the undefended suburbs.
[Illustration: THE GUELPH LION OF ASSISI]
They further commanded that each year, on the feast of St. Ercolano,
the Assisans should bring them a banner "worth at least 25 golden
florins, _in signum subjectionis_." This was the greatest ignominy of
all, and rankled even more deeply in the hearts of the citizens of
Assisi than the fact of their being governed by Perugian officials.
The delivery of the yearly tribute was performed in a manner highly
characteristic of the times and of the love of petty tyranny and
display peculiar to the mediaeval towns. An Assisan horseman mounted on
a splendidly caparisoned charger brought the hated emblem to lay
before the Priors of Perugia, who robed in crimson, with heavy golden
chains about their necks, waited at the foot of the campanile of San
Lorenzo. Close to them stood four mace bearers and trumpeters with
white griffins painted on the red satin streamers which hung from the
silver trumpets. Nothing was neglected that would impress her subjects
with the dignity of her hill-set city. All the Perugians were
assembled, and in their name the Priors promised to defend Assisi
against her enemies and to preserve her from the yoke of tyrants.
Having uttered this solemn mockery, they gave the Podesta of Assisi a
sealed book wherein were written the laws to be observed in return for
the inestimable favours granted; the book was not to be opened until
he and his retinue had returned to their own city. The spirit of the
Assisans was by no means crushed by their misfortunes, and shortly
after the events we have just narrated they issued an edict with a
pomp worthy of Perugia herself which fairly puzzled the Priors of that
city. All Perugians holding land in Assisi were herein ordered to pay
the taxes usually demanded of "strangers" possessing property in the
territory; further, the Assisans proclaimed their firm determination
no longer to observe any orders given to them by the Commune of
Perugia. This audacity was, however, soon checked. Perugia issued an
order to the effect that these statutes, and these alone, which were
decreed by herself were to be valid in Assisi, all others were
worthless. Assisi therefore remained subject to Perugia till 1367,
when Cardinal Albornoz who was engaged in recovering the allegiance of
the Papal States, entered her gates. He was received with wild
enthusiasm by the citizens, for they hailed him as their deliverer
from the hated yoke of the Perugians. The Assisans had every reason to
rejoice in this change of masters, as the Cardinal allowed them to
govern their town like a free republic; he rebuilt the walls
destroyed during the last siege, and the castle which had also
suffered much from the Perugian soldiery. The people were delighted,
and their artists were soon busily employed in painting the gilded
arms of the church on gateways and on palaces.
During his brief sojourn in Assisi the war-like Cardinal had found
such peace as he had probably not often known before, and such was his
love for the church of San Francesco that he added to it several
chapels and chose a place for his tomb within its walls. He died at
Viterbo; and only five months after the Assisans had welcomed him with
such rejoicing, they went with torches and candles, to bear his dead
body back to San Francesco, the Priors, says a chronicler, spending
145 florins upon the crimson gowns they bought for this occasion.
Days of peace and liberty were short, and the Assisans were soon
groaning beneath the enormous taxes laid upon them by the zealous
ministers of the Pope. In 1376 their indignation rose to such a pitch
that they broke into open rebellion, and joined in the war-cry against
the Church, which was to be heard in other towns of Tuscany and
Umbria. The citizens besieged the Legates in their palaces and ordered
them with haughty words to depart; so seeing it was safer to obey,
they returned to Rome without a word. "Because of their love for the
holy Pontiff, whose servants they were, the Assisans used no violence
towards them," but having got their way with polite bows accompanied
them safely beyond the city gates. But at this time, when all was war
and conspiracy, there seemed no chance of a free life again for the
people. No sooner had one tyrant been disposed of than another rose to
take his place. When news of these events reached the Perugians they
thought it a good opportunity to try and again get possession of the
town, accordingly envoys were sent "just to put things in order" as
they expressed it; but the Assisans shut the gates of the city in
their faces and informed them that in future they intended to manage
their own affairs. We cannot say that their endeavours were crowned
with success, the nobles fought among themselves, while the mob was
ever ready for any kind of novelty. It is related how in the year 1398
the Assisans changed their mind three times in one day as to who
should be their lord. "_Evviva_ the Church" was the first cry; the
second, "_Evviva_ the people of Perugia"; and lastly, "_Evviva_ Messer
Imbroglia," a roving adventurer who alternately fought for the Duke of
Milan and the Pope, and finally entered Assisi at the head of a large
cavalcade as Captain and Gonfalonier of the city.
In the early centuries Assisi had bravely fought for her independence
and held her own fairly well; but in the fourteenth century a sudden
whirlwind swept across the country threatening to destroy the last
remnant of her freedom. At this time the _condottieri_ were busy
carving out principalities for themselves, and one after another they
marched through the land forcing the towns to bear their yoke. Assisi,
not without a sharp struggle, fell a prey to Biordo Michelotti and
Braccio Fortebraccio, successive despots of Perugia; and the citizens
found themselves for the next twenty years in turn the vassals of
Guidantonio of Montefeltro, of Sforza, and of the Pope. In 1442
Perugia was governed, in the name of the Pope, by Niccolo Piccinino,
successor to Fortebraccio as the leader of the Bracceschi troops, and
consequently a successor to the rivalry with Francesco Sforza, Duke of
Milan. Assisi, therefore, who had spontaneously given herself to
Sforza, preferring the tyranny of strangers to the yoke of Perugia,
was not likely to be favourably looked on by Piccinino, and sooner or
later he determined to besiege her. But just at this time Perugia had
made peace with all the world, and, delighted with this novel state of
things, she rang the great bell of the Commune, lit beacon fires on
the hills, and sent a special messenger to Assisi to proclaim the
fact. The Assisans, with more courage than discretion, cursed the
messenger and those who sent him, saying they had half a mind to kill
him. "Return with this message," they cried, "say unto those who sent
thee, that they try to wipe us from the face of the earth and then
send words of peace. But we will have war and only war." This
insulting message was duly delivered to the astonished priors, and
that night the beacon fires were extinguished. When news reached
Assisi of the vast preparations in Perugia for war, these hasty words
were regretted. Luckily Francesco Sforza sent the Assisans a good
supply of troops, and every day they hoped for the arrival of his
brother Alessandro.
The month that followed was disastrous to Assisi, and the account of
the war given us by the Perugian chronicler Graziani who took part in
the siege, brings before us vividly the many stages she had to pass
through before arriving at the calm, seraphic days of later years.
By the end of October 1442, Niccolo Piccinino, alluded to always as
_el Capitano_, arrived in the plain below Assisi with some 20,000 men,
and took up his quarters in the Franciscan monastery of San Damiano.
His first intention was to take the town by assault, but on surveying
the fortifications and walls and the impregnable castle, he deemed it
wiser to wait quietly until hunger should have damped the valour of
the citizens. Help, however, came to him from another quarter. It is
believed that a Franciscan friar, perhaps one of those with whom he
lodged at San Damiano, betrayed to him a way into the town by means
of an unused drain.
"On Wednesday, being the 28th day of November, the Captain's people
entered Assisi by an underground drain, which, beginning below the
smaller fortress towards the Carceri, enters Assisi near the
market-place below the castle. There Pazaglia, Riccio da Castello, and
Nicolo Brunoro, with more than 300 men-at-arms, had seen to clearing
the said sewer and cutting through some iron bars at the exit placed
by the Assisans so that none might enter; and Pazaglia and his
companions worked so well that they entered with all their people one
by one. And when they had entered they emerged inside the walls, and
advanced without any noise, holding close to the side of the said
walls so as not to be seen, although the darkness of the night was
great and drizzling rain was falling. But it happened that one of
those within passed by with a lighted torch in his hand, and, hearing
and seeing people, said several times: 'Who goes there.' At last
answer was made to him: 'Friends, friends.' The bearer of the torch
went but a little farther before he began to cry out: 'To arms, to
arms. Awake, awake, for the enemy is within.' So a great tumult arose
throughout the town. Then Pazaglia and his companions, finding they
were discovered, mounted the walls and shouted to those outside:
'Ladders, ladders. Enter, enter.'"[9]
With cries of "Braccio, Braccio," the captain led his men rapidly
through the town, burning the gate, killing the citizens, and
pillaging every palace as they passed along. When Alessandro Sforza
who had stolen into Assisi the night before, "to comfort and encourage
the citizens," found that the enemy was within he hurried with a few
Assisan notables to take refuge in the castle. From the tower-girt
hill he looked down upon the scene of carnage--and what a sight it was
as pictured by Graziani!
"The anguish, the noise, and the screams of women and children! God
alone knows how fearful a thing it was to see them all dishevelled;
some tearing their faces, some beating their breasts, one weeping for
a father, one for a son, another for a brother, as, crying with loud
voices, they prayed to God for death.... But, in truth, these same
Assisans did themselves much injury, greatly adding to their own
trouble. They might have saved many more of their chattels had they
trusted the Perugians, but rather did they trust the strangers, and
this to their undoing, for the said strangers deceived them. Thus was
proved the truth of that proverb which says: 'The offender never
pardons.' Often aforetime had they offended the Commune of Perugia as
we have seen. Even at this moment, when its forces were encamped
outside Assisi, they constantly stood on their walls and hurled
insulting and menacing words at the Perugians, defying and threatening
them, whom for this reason peradventure they did not trust.... Also on
the same day, while the city was being sacked, a multitude of women
with their children and goods, took sanctuary in Santa Chiara; and
when the captain passed and saw so many women and children sheltered
there, he said to the women, especially to the nuns of Santa Chiara,
that it was no longer a safe refuge for them, and if they would choose
where they wished to go he would send them thither in safety. Then,
naming to them all the neighbouring towns, he lastly offered to place
them in safety in the city of Perugia. But when they heard the name of
Perugia, first the nuns and then the other women replied, 'May Perugia
be destroyed by fire.' And when the captain heard this answer, he
immediately cried, 'Pillage, pillage!' Thus was everything plundered
and ruined--the convent with the nuns, the women and the children, and
much booty was there...."[10]
Assisi, now the shell of her former self, seemed indeed a city of the
dead. Through her deserted streets, running with the blood of the
slain, echoed the sound of falling rafters and crumbling palaces,
while bon-fires flamed on the piazza fed with the public archives by
the destroying Perugians. Across the Tiber were to be seen the unhappy
citizens being driven like droves of cattle by their captors up the
hill to the city they hated. There the women, with their children
clinging round their necks, were sold in the market-place as slaves,
and exposed to the cruellest treatment by their masters. Even tiny
children of four and five years old were sold; a maiden, we are told,
fetched fifteen ducats, and many were bought, sometimes for the love
of God, and sometimes as maidservants. Every day fresh booty was
brought in, and the Perugians fought over the gold chalices, missals,
and other treasures robbed from churches and convents; but these
brought lower prices, for even Perugian consciences seem to have been
troubled with scruples, and superstitious fear kept them from buying
stolen church property. While the slave market was proceeding amidst
the clanging of bells proclaiming the victory, the Priors of Perugia
sat in their council hall of the great Palazzo Pubblico discussing how
they could bring about the total annihilation of Assisi. The following
curious letter was finally written, sealed, and sent to Niccolo
Piccinino by five ambassadors who were to tempt him to do the deed
with a bribe of 15,000 ducats:
"Your illustrious Signory being well aware how that city has ever
been the scandal of this one, and that now the time has come to take
this beam from out of our eyes, we pray and supplicate your
illustrious Signory, in the name of this city and of the State, that
it may please you to act in such wise that this your city shall never
again have reason to fear her; and so, as appears good to all the
community, it will be well to raze her to the ground, saving only the
churches. And this will be the most singular among other favours that
your illustrious Signory has ever done to us."[11]
"Trust in my words and trust in my deeds," replied Piccinino to the
bearers of this truly mediaeval letter; but, adds the chronicler, he
refused his consent to their cowardly scheme for the destruction of
the town. It is believed that he was acting upon orders received from
Eugenius IV, who appears as the benevolent genius of Assisi, until, as
the local historians tell us with rage, the Pope offered to sell them
to the Commune of Perugia, when his clemency seems due solely to the
fact that the papal coffers were sadly empty. Luckily the Perugians,
somewhat in debt owing to the late war, were unable to pay the price,
and Assisi thus escaped being given "like a lamb to the butcher,"
while her enemy missed the chance "of removing that beam from out of
her eye."
From this time onward Assisi remained in the possession of the Church,
and many of the Popes, touched by the miserable condition of the town,
supplied money to rebuild its ruined walls and palaces, and thus
induce the citizens to return and inhabit the desolate city. But
hardly had the Assisans succeeded in getting back some kind of order
and prosperity than new wars appeared to ruffle the onward flow of
things. This time the danger came from within, and in Assisi, as in
so many of the cities of Italy, it was the feud between the nobles
themselves that drenched the streets with blood and crushed the
struggles of a people whose cries for liberty were now only faintly
heard. All sank beneath the heavy hand of the despot. The Perugian
citizens were being tyrannised over by the powerful family of the
Baglioni, whose name brings up a picture of crime and bloodshed that
has hardly been equalled in any town in Italy.[12] In Assisi the
balance of power lay between the two families of Fiumi and Nepis, who,
in the irregular fashion of the time, alternately ruled the city in
opposition to the legal sovereignty of the Papacy. The city was
sharply divided into the Upper town, where the Nepis had their palaces
near the castle and San Rufino, and the Lower town, inhabited entirely
by the Fiumi and their adherents, which clustered round the church of
Santa Chiara and down to San Francesco. These two families sought
perpetually to outshine each other, and such was the reputation they
gained among the people in the country round that even the Perugian
chroniclers speak of them as "most cultured and splendid citizens,"
praising their horsemanship and the magnificence of their dress. So
great was the rivalry between the members of the two families Fiumi
and Nepis that, when they met in the piazza of Assisi where the nobles
often walked in the evening, they would provoke each other with
scornful looks and words, and often this was a signal for a skirmish.
The _bravi_ would gather round them, and in an instant the whole town
be roused to arms. After a sharp fight one party was driven to retire
to its strongholds in the open country, while the victorious nobles
seized the reins of government, and the weary citizens sank beneath
the rule of the despots. Assisi presented a most melancholy spectacle
at the end of one of these encounters. Most of the dwellings of the
exiled nobles lay in ruins, the churches were shut in consequence of
the perpetual bloodshed, and the palaces, barred and chained, with the
gratings drawn up before the entrance, seemed to be inhabited by no
living being. Franciscan friars stole along the streets on their
errands of mercy among the distressed citizens, who, besides the
horrors of the city feuds, suffered from the pestilence and famine
which decimated nearly all the towns of Italy at this period. But this
death-like silence within the town was never of long duration. The
exiled party, ever on the alert to regain possession of their homes,
would creep into the town at some unguarded moment and once more stir
a people to fight who were beginning to chafe beneath the irksome rule
of the rival despots.
A climax of evils came when, in addition to a hundred other ills, the
Baglioni of Perugia took upon themselves to interfere.
In 1494 we find the Fiumi and the Nepis living peaceably in their
palaces, dividing the power in Assisi, until at last the hot-headed
Fiumi grew weary of the even balance of things, and determined at one
stroke to rid themselves of every foe. In open combat they had
attempted this and failed, so a treacherous plot was hatched. Jacopo
Fiumi, head of the house, and his brother Alessandro, persuaded their
friends, the Priors of the city, to prepare a great banquet in the
Communal Palace and invite all the members of the rival family to be
present. Unarmed, and not dreaming of danger, the Nepis entered the
big hall. No sooner had they thrown off their cloaks than the Fiumi
rushed upon them with drawn swords and knives. Angered by such wanton
treachery, the citizens drove the murderers from the city; and the
Priors, protected by the darkness of the night, fled into the open
country to seek a refuge in some neighbouring town.
Now this event, like many others, might have subsided and been
followed by a period of peace, only it happened that the Baglioni were
allies of the Nepis and ready to avenge them in Assisi. They had,
moreover, old scores to settle with Jacopo Fiumi, who, Matarazzo tells
us, in pained surprise, "was a most cruel enemy of the house of
Baglioni and of every Perugian, and studied day and night how he might
injure those of Perugia, so that he was the cause of much trouble to
the magnificent house of Baglioni."[13] This was therefore a good
opportunity for the Baglioni to lay siege to Assisi, and perpetual
skirmishes took place in the plain, which sapped the life-blood of the
citizens and laid waste the Umbrian country for many miles around. The
peasants, whose grain had been trampled down by the Baglioni, were
driven half-naked into the woods, and watched the high roads from the
heights above Assisi like birds of prey, swooping down to rob or kill
travellers passing by. Badgers, wolves, and foxes roamed unmolested in
the plain, and fed upon the unburied bodies of the murdered travellers
and of those who fell in battle; while, in the dead of night, the
friars of the Portiuncula stole out to bury what bones the wild beasts
had left. Things had come to such a pass that the Assisans, as we are
told, knew not what to say or do, so many of their number were dead or
taken captive and the enemy was ever at their gates. Giovan Paolo,
mounted on his black charger, "which did not run but flew," led the
Perugians to storm the town and draw the citizens out to battle. He
was one of the fiercest of the Baglioni brood and a famous soldier,
and yet it was in vain he sought to inspire the Assisans with fear.
"Indeed," says Matarazzo, "each one proved himself valiant on either
side; for the Assisans had become warlike and inured to arms, and they
were all iniquitous and desperate."[14] The foes were of equal
strength and courage, and the war, which had already lasted three
years, seemed likely to have no end. But one day the Assisans,
watching from their ramparts, saw a large squadron of soldiers
hurrying from Perugia to the aid of the Baglioni, and they began to
ring the city bells as a signal that the moment had come for the final
stand. Those who were skirmishing in the plain against Giovan Paolo
began to lose heart when they heard the clanging of the bells, and the
Perugians, perceiving their advantage, took new courage, so that "each
one became as a lion." More than sixty Assisans were slain that day,
while the prisoners suffered cruelly under the vengeance of those who
took this opportunity of remembering offences of past years. "And thus
did his lordship, the magnificent Giovan Paolo, return victorious and
joyful from this great and dangerous battle."[15]
Once the gates of Assisi were forced open, the Baglioni and their
_bravi_ scoured the streets from end to end, killing all they
encountered, and dragging from the churches the poor women who sought
shelter and protection. The blood-thirsty brood did not even respect
the Church of San Francesco; and the friars, in a letter to their
patron Guidobaldo, Duke of Urbino, complain most bitterly of the
crimes committed within the sacred edifice, even on the very steps of
the altar. "The poor city of Assisi," the letter says, "has known only
sorrow through the perpetual raids of the Baglioni, whose many crimes
would be condemned even by the infidel Turks. They rebel against the
holy Pontiff, and such is their ferocity that they have set fire to
the gates of the city--even unto that of the Basilica of San
Francesco. They do not shudder to murder men, cook their flesh, and
give it to the relations of the slain to eat in their prison
dungeons."[16] Matarazzo also dwells on the sad conditions of Assisi
during her final struggle for independence. "So great was the
pestilence and the famine within the walls that human tongue could not
describe it, for great woe there was, and such scarcity and penury in
Assisi as had never been known. I myself have talked to men who were
in Assisi at that time, and who, on remembering those days of famine,
pestilence, and war were bathed in tears; and, if the subject had come
up a thousand times in a day, a thousand times would they have wept
bitterly, so dark was the memory thereof. Not only did they weep, but
those also who listened to them, for they would recount how they
wandered by the walls of the town, and down to the hamlets, and in
every place searching for herbs to eat; and how, forced by hunger,
they ate all manner of cooked herbs, and many people sustained
themselves with three or four cooked nuts dipped in wine, and with
this they made good cheer."[17]
In reading the terrible chronicle of these years, one asks, "How did
any life survive in the face of such ghastly suffering?" The strange
fact remains that life not only survived, but that the Assisans even
flourished during the period, and, like half-drowned birds, who,
rising to the surface, bask for a while in the sunshine and then
spread their wings for a fresh flight, they too arose and prospered.
But the time was drawing near when these continual efforts were no
longer needed. The rival factions had reached the summit of their
savage strength, and the city despots were soon to be swept from the
land by the whirlwind they themselves had raised.
In the year 1500, during one awful night of carnage at Perugia, the
Baglioni were nearly all murdered through the treachery of some of
their own family. The manner in which the clansmen sought out their
victims and stabbed them in their sleep, driving their teeth into
their hearts in savage fury, sent a thrill of horror throughout Italy.
The downfall of this powerful house affected the destiny of Assisi,
for Perugia was brought under the immediate dominion of the church,
and with the advent of Paul III, she lost her independence, which she
never again recovered. A mighty fortress was erected on the site of
the Baglioni palaces, and the significant words "_Ad coercendam
Perusinorum audacam_" were inscribed upon its walls. The Farnese Pope
meant to warn, not only the citizens of that proud city which he had
brought so successfully within his net, but also the Assisans and the
other Umbrians who, with anxious eyes, were watching the storms that
wrecked Perugia.
With this new order of things the last flicker of mediaeval liberty was
being extinguished, and when Paul III, ordered the cannons from the
castle of Assisi to be transferred to his new fortress at Perugia, the
Assisans felt that a crisis had been reached and that henceforth they
must be guided by the menacing finger of an indomitable pontiff. One
last effort she did indeed make to save her dignity: she begged to be
governed independently of her old rival Perugia. To this the Pope
agreed, and a Papal Legate came with great pomp and was met outside
the gates by the Priors, nobles, and citizens of Assisi. With that
great Farnese fortress looming in the distance they were forced to
make some show of gladness as they followed him in solemn procession
through the town and up the steep hill to the Rocca Maggiore. Here the
Legate walked round the ramparts and through the spacious halls of the
castle, taking possession of all in the name of the Church of Rome.
Then the Castellano knelt down before him, and as he handed the keys
over to his keeping, the history of war and strife in Assisi abruptly
closed.
[Illustration: THE ARMS OF ASSISI]
[Illustration: ASSISI IN THE TIME OF ST. FRANCIS]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The legend may have arisen from the fact that Minerva had a temple
near Miletos under the title of Assesia and the legend-weavers have
caught at the similarity of sound to that of their own Umbrian town.
[2] _Carmina_, i. 22, translated by R. C. Trevelyan.
[3] _Carmina_, IV. i. 121; translated by R. C. Trevelyan. In another
place Propertius gives bolder utterance to his pride: "Whosoever
beholds the town climbing the valley side, let him measure the fame of
their walls by my genius" (_Carmina_, iv. 5).
[4] See Cristofani, _Storia d'Assisi_, p. 42 for text of the MS.
[5] Dante, _Inferno_, xix. p. 115. Translated by John Milton.
[6] See _Les Nouveaux Memoires de l'Academie de Bruxelles_ (t. xxiii.
pp. 29, 33); also _Un nouveau Chapitre de la Vie de S. Francois
d'Assise_, par Paul Sabatier.
[7] Perugia was, on the whole, faithful to the Guelph cause. She was
patronised by the Popes on account of her strong position overlooking
the Tiber, and when inclined she freely acknowledged them as her
masters but at the same time she was careful to guard her
independence.
[8] _Cronaca Graziani_, p. 522.
[9] _Cronaca Graziani_, pp. 512 and 513.
[10] _Cronaca Graziani_, p. 513.
[11] _Cronaca Graziani_, p. 514, note 1.
[12] For a full account of the Baglioni see the sixteenth-century
chronicle of Matarazzo (_Archivio Storico Italiano_, vol. xvi. part
ii.), who has immortalised their crimes in classic language; and also
_The Story of Perugia_ (Mediaeval Towns Series, J. M. Dent & Co.).
[13] _Cronaca Matarazzo_, p. 75.
[14] _Cronaca Matarazzo_, p. 75.
[15] _Ibid._
[16] Fratini, _Storia della Basilica di San Francesco_, p. 287.
[17] _Cronaca di Matarazzo_, p. 75.