_The building of the Basilica and Convent of San Francesco. The Story
of Brother Elias_
"O brother mine, O beautiful brother, O brother of love, build me
a castle which shall have neither stone nor iron. O beautiful
brother, build me a city which shall have neither wood nor
stone."--BEATO EGIDIO.
One of the strangest characteristics of mediaeval Italy was the rivalry
between different towns to gain possession of the bodies of holy
people. They did not even wait for the bull of canonisation to arrive
from Rome, but often of their own accord placed the favoured being in
the Calendar of Saints, and papal decrees merely ratified the choice
of popular devotion. We have an example of this with the Perugians.
Ever on the alert to increase the glory of their city, they hovered
near the road St. Francis was to follow during his last illness when
borne from Cortona to Assisi, meaning to carry him off by force so
that he might die in Perugia.[59] Never at a loss for a way out of any
difficulty Elias hastily changed the itinerary for the journey, and
instead of the short way by lake Thrasymene he took the much longer
and more difficult road by Gualdo and Nocera, far back in the
mountains to the north of Assisi. He warned the Assisans of the peril
run by the little company of friars with their sick father, and
soldiers were immediately sent to escort them safely to the Bishop's
Palace where St. Francis stayed until carried to the Portiuncula when
he knew that he was dying.
They were sad days at Assisi when St. Francis was borne through the
city blind and ill; and as he stretched out his hands to bless the
people they bowed their heads and wept at the sight of so much
suffering. Now that the end had come and they knew he lay safely in
the little shrine of the Portiuncula, their mourning was changed into
rejoicing, and as though they were preparing for a great festival,
strange sounds of busy talk, of laughter and of singing were heard in
the streets. Had a stranger found himself at Assisi that Sunday
morning he might well have asked: "What victory have you gained to
merit all this show of gladness, or what emperor are you going forth
to greet?" And the answer would have been: "Francis, our saint, the
son of Bernardone, returned to us when he was nigh to death, and now
that he is dead we possess his body which will bring great honour and
fame to our city by reason of the many miracles to be wrought at his
tomb."
The sun had not yet risen when the Assisans left their houses and
thronged down the hill to the Portiuncula to bring the precious burden
to rest within the more certain refuge of their walled town. "Blessed
and praised be the Lord our God who has entrusted to us, though
unworthy, so great a gift. Praise and glory to the ineffable Trinity,"
they sang as they hurried along in the cold dawn. Trumpeters blew loud
and discordant notes, nearly drowning the voices of the priests who
vainly in the din tried to intone the canticles and psalms. The nobles
came from their castles with lighted torches to join the procession,
the peasants from the hills brought sprigs of olive, and those from
the forests stripped the oaks of their finest branches which they
waved above their heads, while children strewed the ground with
flowers.
Amidst all this stirring show of joy a kindly thought had been taken
of St. Clare and her nuns, so that when the body of St. Francis had
been laid in a coffin, and the long line of friars, priests and
townsmen turned to climb the hill, they took a path skirting just
below the town, through the vineyards and olive groves, to the convent
of San Damiano. The sound of chanting must have warned the watchers of
their approach long before they came in sight. An artist has pictured
the nuns like a flock of timid sheep in his fresco, trooping out of an
exquisitely marbled chapel, with St. Clare endeavouring to suppress
her grief as she bends over the dead Francis, while the sisters press
close behind her. This is how it ought to have been; but, alas, only
an iron lattice, through which the nuns were wont to receive the Holy
Communion, was opened for them, and the friars lifting the body of St.
Francis from the coffin, held it in their arms at the opening as one
by one the nuns came to kiss the pierced hands. "Madonna Chiara's"
tears fell fast as she gazed on him who had brought such joy into her
cloistered solitude. "Oh father, father," she murmured, "what are we
to do now that thou hast abandoned us unhappy ones? With thee departs
all consolation, for buried here away from the world there is none to
console us." Restraining the lamentations which filled her heart she
passed like a shadow out of sight to her cell, and when all the
sisters had bidden farewell to St. Francis, the small window was
closed "never again to open upon so sad a scene."
The people, who until now had wept bitterly, began to sing again as
the procession went on its way up the hill towards the Porta Mojano.
The trumpets sounded louder than ever, and "with jubilation and great
exultation" the sacred body was brought to the church of San Giorgio,
where it was carefully laid in a marble urn covered with an iron
grating, and guarded day and night from the prying eyes of the
Perugians. If Francis had worked miracles during his life, those
chronicled at his tomb are even more marvellous; in recounting some
which read like fairy tales, a biographer recounts with pride that,
"even from heaven, the Saint showed his courtesy to all."
Devotion to St. Francis was not confined to Umbria or even to Italy,
for we read how his fame spread throughout France, and how the King
and Queen with all the barons of the land, came to Paris to kiss one
of his relics. "People journeyed from the east and from the west,"
enthusiastically exclaims Celano with a total disregard of detail,
"they came from the north and from the south, even the learned and the
lettered who abounded in Paris at that time."
But while France was being stirred by the news of perpetual miracles
and prodigies wrought through the intercession of the saint, and
Assisi in consequence was fast growing into a place of great
importance in the world, Pope Gregory IX, who had been lately elected
upon the death of Honorius III, spent many hours in the Cannonica at
Perugia wrestling with his doubts concerning the truth of the greatest
miracle of all, the miracle of the Stigmata. While in this state of
uncertainty and perplexity St. Francis, the _Fioretti_ relates,
appeared to him one night, and showed him the five wounds inflicted by
the Seraph upon his hands, feet and side. The vision, it seems,
dispelled all doubt from the mind of Pope Gregory, for in conclave
with the cardinals he proclaimed the sanctity of his friend, the
Poverello d'Assisi, and determined to set the final seal of the church
upon his miracles and fame.
This vision was the prelude of a great ceremony held a few days later
in San Giorgio for the canonisation of Francis, at which all Umbria
seems to have been present. Pope Gregory, clothed in vestments of
cloth of gold embroidered with precious stones, his tiara "almost as
an aureole of sanctity about his head," sat stiffly on his pontifical
throne like some carved image, surrounded by cardinals in crimson
garments and bishops in white stoles. All eyes were fixed upon this
splendid group, and it is not improbable that among the spectators
stood Pietro Bernardone and Madonna Pica, and many who had reviled
Francis in his early days of sanctity, and now, within two years of
his death, witnessed him placed among the greatest of the saints.
Gregory had prepared an eloquent address, which he delivered in a
sonorous voice occasionally broken by sobs of emotion. Becoming more
and more enthusiastic as he proceeded, he compared Francis to a full
moon, a refulgent sun, a star rising above the morning mists, and when
he had finished the pious homily, a sub-deacon read out a list of the
saint's miracles, and a learned cardinal, "not without copious
weeping," discoursed thereon, while the Pope listened, shedding
"rivers of tears," and breaking forth every now and then into
deep-drawn sighs. The prelates wept so devoutly that their vestments
were in great part wet, and the ground was drenched with their tears.
The ceremony ended when the Pope rose to bless the people, and intoned
the _Te Deum_, in which all joined with such good will that the "earth
resounded in great jubilee."
Had St. Francis foreseen how his humility would be rewarded? This we
know, that he in part had realised how his order would slip away from
his ideal, and there is a deep note of sadness in many pages of his
life, showing us how fully he realised the pitfalls his disciples were
likely to fall into when he was no longer there to watch over them
with tender care. Often while he was absent for only a little time the
brethren forgot his simple rule, building cells and houses too
spacious and pretentious for the home of the Lady Poverty. This had
been one of the signs to him that his earnest prayers to God, his
example and admonitions to his followers, which come to us through his
letters and the pages of Brother Leo like the cry of one who bravely
fought against the inevitable, were all to be in vain. It is a tragic
story, and rendered still more so by the fact that the Saint's last
years should have been saddened by this knowledge of coming events.
Only a little while and the teaching of poverty and obscurity which he
had so deeply implanted in the hearts of his followers was to be
completely swept away; upon the ruins of that first franciscan order,
guarded jealously for a time by a faithful few, arose the new
franciscan spirit which Elias Buonbarone, inspired by the will of
Gregory IX, brought into being almost before the echo of his master's
words had died away. It is not for us in this small space to trace
the many changes that crept into the young community, but we simply
note as a fact, what to some may appear exaggerated, that the order
St. Francis founded, and prayed would continue as he left it, ceased
at his death, while the order that grew up afterwards bore the
unmistakable stamp of Elias and the Vatican.
* * * * *
The extraordinary humility of St. Francis gave rise to the myth that
when he lay dying at the Portiuncula he expressed a strong desire to
be buried in the most despised spot near Assisi, which, because
criminals were said to have been executed there, bore the name of
Colle del Inferno. It seems unlike him to have been concerned with
what might become of "brother body" after death, and it was probably
not until Gregory IX conceived the idea of building a church in honour
of his friend, that a suitable burial-place was searched for near the
walls of the town, if not actually within them, where the citizens
could safely guard the precious relics. Everything favoured the
designs of Gregory, for not only was he fortunate in finding a man
like Elias, capable, prompt and energetic, but the one place suited
for the erection of a great church, happened to be in the possession
of a generous citizen of Assisi. No sooner were the wishes of the
Pontiff made known than Simon Puzzarelli offered his land on the
Collis Inferni, which from this time forward Gregory ordered to be
called Collis Paradisi, the Hill of Paradise.[60]
A document, duly sealed and signed, is still in the Assisan archives,
in which we read how the site for the building of "an oratory or
church for the most holy body of St. Francis" was given over, in words
that admitted of no withdrawal, to Elias as representative of the Lord
Pope Gregory IX--"dedit, tradedit, cesset, delegavit et donavit
simpliciter et irrevocabiliter." Now the use of the word _oratory_ is
a remarkable fact as suggesting that at the beginning the Assisans
little dreamed of the erection of a great basilica which would cast
their cathedral entirely into the shade.
A few days after the ceremony of the canonisation of St. Francis, Pope
Gregory, amid the usual crowd of Umbrian spectators, laid the
foundation-stone of the franciscan basilica. Then being recalled by
his Roman subjects, whom Assisan chroniclers describe as "a race of
men most seditious and fierce," he was obliged to hurry south, leaving
Elias to carry out his wishes as he thought best.
So far the task left to Elias was easy enough, for money was not
lacking, and countless workmen were ready to begin the great
enterprise; but the question of who should design a church upon the
site chosen was a more difficult matter to settle, as Vasari tells us:
"There was a great scarcity of good architects at this time, and the
church, having to be built upon a very high hill, at the base of which
flows a torrent called the Tescio, an excellent artist was required
for the work. After much deliberation a certain Maestro Jacopo Tedesco
was called to Assisi as being the best architect then to be found, and
having examined the site, and consulted the wishes of the fathers, who
were holding a Chapter in Assisi to discuss the matter, he designed
the plan of a very beautiful church and convent."[61]
"Jacopo" is said to have come to Italy in the retinue of the Emperor
Frederick II. Vasari recounts that the fame he gained all over Italy
by his work at Assisi was so great that the Florentines summoned him
to build them bridges and palaces, and "Jacopo," charmed with the
Tuscan city, married and dwelt there. The citizens, following a custom
which still continues in every Italian town, changed his name to Lapo,
and he is revealed to us as father of the famous Arnolfo di Lapo,
architect of the Florentine cathedral and of the Palazzo della
Signoria. In the seductive pages of Vasari the account reads so
pleasantly that it seems a pity later writers should have discovered
that the story rests upon uncertain dates and legends. Vasari's
endeavour to amalgamate three artists into one person, have forced
many to the opposite extreme, until even the existence of "Jacopo
Tedesco" is denied, and they are reduced to speak of _an_ architect
who designed the church and convent of San Francesco.[62]
Such is the irony of fate, that while numerous documents remain giving
the names of contractors and minor masons employed in the building
there is absolutely no evidence or clue of any kind as to the
architect employed by Elias. We can only suppose that the document
relating to this and other interesting points in connection with the
decoration of the church, must have been destroyed by the Perugians
when they sacked Assisi under Jacopo Piccinino and burnt so many
treasures in the archives. We are consequently at the mercy of local
legends, which were no doubt recounted to Vasari by the Assisans
themselves when he visited the town in the middle of the sixteenth
century. But there is still the evidence of our own eye to help us to
know something of the builder of San Francesco, the builder of the
first Gothic church in Italy. We are told he was a German; but then we
know from Mr Fergusson's Handbook of Architecture that Germans were
only just awakening to the Gothic influences at the time of St.
Francis's death, and, when they wished to build churches in the new
style they called in French masons to help them. Was it therefore
likely that Germany should have given the mysterious architect to
Assisi? A church recalling the Assisan Basilica may be vainly searched
for in Germany or in Lombardy and this further fact inclines us to
believe in the theory of M. Edouard Corroyer.
[Illustration: CHURCH AND CONVENT OF SAN FRANCESCO]
Whether the man who conceived the original idea of raising one church
above another flanked by a colonnaded convent on the spur of a great
mountain was called Philip or James, or whether he came from a Lombard
or a German province seems of small importance compared with the
country where he learned his art. Even supposing "Jacopo" to have been
a northern Italian from the home of the Comacine Guild of master
masons, which is extremely likely, everything goes to prove that he
must have drawn his inspiration for the Assisan Basilica straight
from the south of France. What establishes the French parentage of
San Francesco is the mode of construction, especially visible in the
Upper Church, and which, as M. Corroyer says, "possesses all the
characteristics peculiar to the French architecture in the south of
France at the close of the thirteenth and the beginning of the
fourteenth century, of which the Cathedral of Albi [in Aquitaine] is
the most perfect type. The single nave, its buttresses projecting
externally in the form of half turrets, add to the likeness of the
Italian church of Assisi with that of Albi in France."[63] A glance at
the illustrations of the two churches will bear this theory out better
than many words; and it will be seen at once that had the half turrets
between the bay windows of San Francesco been completed with pointed
roofs and small lancet windows, as no doubt was the intention, the
likeness would be even more striking.
Although "Jacopo" left a very substantial mark of his genius upon the
Umbrian hill-side, he came and went like a shadow, leaving his designs
and plans to be carried on by his young disciple Fra Filippo Campello,
whom we shall meet with again in the chapter on Santa Chiara. Little,
therefore, as we know of this earlier portion of its history, San
Francesco at least remains to us in all its first prime and glory to
tell its own tale, and endless should be the hymn of praise sung by
the Assisans for the chance which brought so beautiful a creation
within their walls.
It seems indeed strange that a style so new and so admired, was not
more faithfully adhered to at a time when cathedrals and churches were
being erected in every Italian city. Perhaps the Romanesque and
Byzantine influences from the south so tempered the Gothic tendencies
of Lombard architects, that they were unable to attain the true ideal,
and succeeded only in creating a style of their own, to be found at
Florence, Siena and Orvieto, known as Italian Gothic. Thus it happens
that the Assisans are the proud possessors, not only of the first
Gothic church built in Italy during the dawn of the new era, but of a
church which is unique, as recalling less dimly than those of other
cities the splendour of the northern cathedrals.
* * * * *
The rapidity with which the Assisan Basilica progressed is one of the
most wonderful results of the love inspired by St. Francis among
mediaeval Christians. The generosity of the Catholic world was so
stirred that donations poured in without ceasing from Germany and
France, and even from Jerusalem and Morocco. "Cardinals, bishops,
dukes, princes, counts and barons," write the chroniclers, helped
Elias in his work, while the people of Umbria, too poor to give money,
came in numbers, out of the reverence they bore the Saint, to work for
small and often for no wages. It was a busy time; and Assisi awoke to
a sense of her importance. Under the vigilant eye of Elias, armies of
masons and labourers worked as unremittingly as ants at a nest, while
processions of carts drawn by white oxen, went ever to and fro upon
the road leading to the quarries, bringing creamy-white, rose and
golden-coloured blocks of Subasian stone.
This universal enthusiasm enabled Elias to complete the Lower Church
in twenty-two months, while the Upper Church was roofed in six years
later, and finished in all essential details by 1253. But while Elias
was applauded by most people, a few of the franciscans, headed by Fra
Leo, still clung to the letter of the franciscan rule, and bitterly
disapproved of these innovations. They sorrowfully looked on at the
army of workers, raising, as if by magic, walls and colonnades upon
the hill-side and towers ever higher against the sky. They watched
blocks of marble and stone being chiselled into cornices, friezes and
capitals ornamented with foliage and flowers, until, with despair in
their hearts, they slowly returned to their mud huts in the plain. The
dreams of Francis were vanishing fast as the allegiance to the Lady
Poverty diminished. Now her shrine existed only in the Carceri, in San
Damiano and in the Portiuncula, where few sought her company, for all
eyes were turned towards the new Basilica. The words of the Master,
recorded faithfully in Leo's biography, were ever ringing in his ears:
"Set a good hedge round in lieu of a wall, as a sign of holy poverty
and humility ... build poor little cells of mud and wood, and other
cells where at times the brethren may pray and work to the gain of
virtue and the avoidance of sloth. Also cause small churches to be
built; they ought not to raise great churches for the sake of
preaching to the people, or for any other reason, for they will show
greater humility and give a better example by going to preach in other
churches. And if by chance prelates, clerics, religious or seculars
should come to these abodes, the poor houses, the little cells and
small churches will be better sermons and cause greater edification to
them than many words."[64]
No wonder that Leo and his friends watched Elias at his work with no
friendly eye, for between the mud huts which Francis had planned with
so much simplicity, and the massive Basilica and palatial convent,
stretched an infinite chasm, separating the old order from the new.
They were still more unhappy and scandalised when Elias, who had the
full permission of Gregory IX. for this innovation, placed a marble
vase outside San Francesco to receive the contributions of those
anxious to see the church quickly finished. A curious account is given
by a latin chronicler of the warfare which ensued between the
standard-bearers of the new and the old franciscan spirit: "Some
brothers of marvellous sanctity and purity went to Perugia to consult
Brother Egidio, a good and pious man, concerning the erection of so
large a building and the manner of collecting money, which seemed to
be expressly against the rule. And Brother Egidio answered them: "If
that building were to reach from Assisi to here [to Perugia] a little
corner would suffice for me to dwell in." And they having asked him
what he thought about the vase, he said, turning to Brother Leo: "If
thou considerest thyself already dead [to the world and its
persecutions] go and break it. But if thou livest, stay thy hand, for
perchance thou mayest not be able to bear the persecution of that
Brother Elias."[65] Hearing this, Brother Leo went with his companions
and broke the vase to pieces. Then Brother Elias, hearing this, had
them severely beaten by his servants, and drove them from Assisi in
great confusion. For this reason a great tumult arose among the
brethren. Because of these aforesaid excesses, and because Brother
Elias threatened the complete destruction of the rule, when the
brethren met in general Chapter they deprived him of the office of
Vicar General, and unanimously elected Brother John of Florence
[Giovanni Parenti]."[66]
But these murmurs were drowned in the din of public applause which
enabled Elias to work in his own way, unscrupulously dispersing every
difficulty without any reference to the rule of St. Francis.
He continued to be the presiding spirit at Assisi, and such was the
success of his untiring energy that by the month of May 1230, the
Lower Church of the Basilica was ready to receive the "most sacred
body" of the Saint, while the magnificent quarters in the adjoining
convent were ready for those friars who belonged to the moderate
party, and approved of the new order of things.
Pope Gregory was unable to visit Assisi at this time owing to
difficulties with his unruly Roman subjects, but he sent innumerable
indulgences, golden crosses studded with precious stones containing
relics of the true cross, vases of silver and gold, and a large sum of
money for the further advancement of the building. These generous
gifts were followed by a Brief, which in calmer moments the monks
might have viewed with irritation, declaring both Basilica and convent
to be immediately subject to the Holy See. The franciscan order was
fast becoming a Papal institution, to be patronised and ruled by
succeeding Pontiffs.
While Giovanni Parenti was preparing for the Conclave to be held in
the spacious rooms of the new convent, the wily Elias was holding
secret councils with the magistrates of the town as to ensuring the
safe conduct of the body of St. Francis to the Basilica. The number of
people continually arriving in anticipation of the coming ceremony
made them somewhat uneasy, and their doubts were carefully discussed
in the Communal Palace. They came to the conclusion that if the exact
place of the saint's sepulchre was known, there would always be the
danger of its being rifled by the citizens of neighbouring towns,
especially by the Perugians, whose partiality for relics was well
known. So a stratagem, most likely invented by the fertile brain of
Elias, was decided upon and succeeded admirably.
The friars and citizens, unconscious of the plot hatched in their
midst, were all eager for the day of the Translation. The Umbrians
left their towns empty to assist at the great spectacle, and their
number was so great, that, failing to find room within the walls of
Assisi, they wandered like droves of cattle on the hills above trying
to obtain a sight of the procession. It was a great day in the annals
of Assisi; outside the little church of San Giorgio a triumphal car,
drawn by a pair of magnificent oxen, their whiteness almost hidden
beneath purple draperies and their horns wreathed and garlanded with
flowers, stood waiting for the holy burden. Three Papal Legates and
Elias placed the heavy sarcophagus with their own hands upon the car,
covering it over with a piece of rich brocaded silk sent for the
occasion by the mother of King Louis of France. They kept close to the
car all the time, while the brethren, holding palms and torches,
formed a long procession followed by the bishops and their clergy, and
the Podesta with his retinue of crimson-robed priors. It was the month
of May, and from every garden and terrace the nobles and their ladies
showered flowers over the "sacred ark" as it was borne slowly up the
street amidst the deafening sound of trumpets and the cheers of the
populace. All that could be done to honour St. Francis had been
thought of; Gregory IX. had even composed a hymn to be sung on that
day in which the "Poverello" was compared to Christ. They were in the
midst of the hymn of praise and quite close to the new Basilica when
the heavy tramp of numerous armed men was suddenly heard; swiftly a
passage was made through the crowd, who for the moment fell back
amazed and powerless, while the soldiers hurried with the sarcophagus
into the church, closely followed by Elias, who promptly shut and
barred the door. After the first moment of surprise, a wild burst of
indignation arose from the thousands who were thus deprived of a
spectacle which they had come miles to see. They howled like wild
beasts baulked of their prey, banging at the doors of the church in
their fury; but silence reigned within, for Elias and his accomplices
were stealthily engaged in hiding the body of St. Francis in the very
bowels of the mountain, where for five centuries it remained unseen
and undisturbed.
Till far into the night the people continued to murmur; the bewildered
friars asked each other what this strange behaviour of Elias meant,
and the only people who preserved any appearance of calmness were
Messer il Podesta of Assisi and his priors, who smiled to see how well
the plot had worked. It was not long before the scandal reached the
ears of Pope Gregory. The enemies of Elias painted the story in
glowing colours, and the Pope expressed himself greatly shocked at
sacrilegious hands having been laid upon the holy body of the saint.
He blamed the magistrates for allowing such a tumult to arise, and
called upon them to give due explanation of their conduct within a
fortnight at the court of Rome under pain of their city being laid
under an interdict. The Pope's Brief caused consternation, and his
accusations of their ingratitude for past favour rankled deeply. We
are not told how the anger of the Pope was pacified, but no doubt both
Elias and the Podesta explained satisfactorily the reasons for so
strange a burial, as Assisi continued to enjoy the patronage of the
Holy See. The efforts of Elias to ensure the safety of the body of St.
Francis had been eminently successful, and Gregory could hardly fail
to pardon the unusual manner in which this had been obtained.
Out of the mysterious events of that day of tumult grew a legend which
lasted until the body of St. Francis was finally discovered five
centuries later. It was believed that a church far surpassing the
other two in grandeur and beauty had been built beneath them by Elias,
and that St. Francis risen from his tomb stood in the midst, his hands
crossed upon his breast, his head thrown back, gazing eternally
towards the sky. The Umbrians, refusing to believe that their saint
could suffer the common lot of mortals, loved to think of him as
"almost alive," waiting for the last call, surrounded by the glorious
beauty of a hidden church which they had never seen and only dimly
pictured to themselves. Vasari refers to this "invisible church"
described to him by the awe-struck citizens, when he mentions that
"the tomb containing the body of the glorious saint is in the lowest
church where no one enters, and whose doors are walled up"; and in the
beginning of his description of the Basilica, he speaks of three
ranges of buildings placed one above the other, the lowest of all
being subterranean, which is curious as showing how closely he
followed tradition regarding the Assisan church. Padre Angeli so
unhesitatingly accepted the story that in his "Collis Paradisi" he
drew from imagination a plan, together with a picture of the
"invisible church." It represents a long vaulted hall somewhat
recalling the architecture of the Upper Church, at the end of which is
St. Francis standing upon his tomb in a recess corresponding to a kind
of choir; the vaulted roof is supported by slender columns with
chiselled capitals, and the walls and floor are ornamented with
marbles and mosaic of different colours.
* * * * *
To close this chapter without touching upon the career of Elias, who
is at once the black sheep of the franciscan order and one of the
greatest citizens of Assisi, would be impossible. Few have written
calmly about him, trying either to exculpate him or blaming his
actions too severely, so that it is difficult to obtain any just idea
of the real motives which guided him in an ill-starred life. Elias was
neither devil nor saint, though he possessed the energy of both and
his marked and domineering character would have fitted him better for
the world than for the cloister. Ambition seems to have been his chief
fault, together with a certain proud reserve which kept him aloof from
his companions. From the various references to him in the early
biographies of St. Francis we feel the writers failed ever to come
quite in touch with one so outside their lives, and whom they
considered as a kind of Judas--for did he not betray the interests of
the Master?
"Elias is an altogether different type of man from the simple-minded
Francis," writes Mrs Oliphant, echoing the general opinion. "He is an
ambitious and ascetic churchman, of the class which has pushed Rome
into much power and many abuses--an almost conventional development of
the intellectual monk, making up for compulsory humbleness in external
matters by the highest strain of ecclesiastical ambition and spiritual
pride."
But while all abused him, none doubted his very exceptional talents,
and even in the _Fioretti_ he was accounted "one of the most learned
men in the world," and St. Francis showed the great confidence he had
in him by naming him Vicar-General after the death of Peter Cataneo.
It was at a Chapter held in the wood by the Portiuncula that the saint
expressed his desire to again resign the government of the order to
another, and while Elias discoursed to the assembled friars St.
Francis sat at his feet listening attentively to every word.[67] On
the other hand, the saint was quite aware of his faults, and from the
_Fioretti_, where Elias is pictured for artistic effect in strong
colours as the wicked friar, we seem to realize the strain that often
must have come between these two very different men. Thus we read that
it being revealed to St. Francis that Elias was destined to lose his
soul and bring dishonour on the order, he conceived such an antipathy
towards him that he would even avoid meeting him, although at the time
they were living in the same convent. The scene when Elias,
discovering the reason of his displeasure, threw himself at the feet
of the saint to implore his intercession with heaven reveals in the
most touching way the great belief and reverence inspired by St.
Francis in the heart of the least docile of his followers. "I have so
great a faith in thy prayers," said Elias, "that were I in the midst
of hell, and thou wert to pray to God for me, I should feel some
relief; therefore again I pray thee to commend me, a sinner, unto God
who came to save sinners that He may receive me into His mercy." And
this did Brother Elias say with much devotion and many tears, so that
St. Francis, like a pitying father, promised to pray to God for him.
It will be seen how far the revelation of St. Francis came true, and
the manner in which his prayer was answered.
So long as Elias remained under the influence of Francis his pride was
tempered, and his ambition curbed, but when cast upon his own
resources he gave full rein to the ideas which had no doubt been
forming in his mind for some years past. Elias thought the franciscan
order, if faithful to the Lady Poverty, would prove of small
importance; and he therefore willingly leagued with Gregory IX. to
mould it so that it should become a visible power upon the earth. The
vision he conjured up with the sceptre in his own hand was very fair;
and he failed to see why religion should not be served quite as well
within the massive convent walls he had helped to rear, as when
dwelling in a mud hut. He had too broad a mind to look closely to the
detail of his rule; he only saw the broad outline of his master's
teaching; and who can say whether after all he was not right? This we
know, the mud huts have long since vanished, while thousands come each
year to pray at the tomb of Francis within sight of Giotto's
master-pieces. They sing aloud his praises, and as they pray and sing
throw coppers and silver in heaps upon the altar steps, and pass out
of the church into the sunlight again, knowing little of the lessons
St. Francis spent his life in teaching.
But we must return again to Elias and his many troubles with the
franciscan world. While patronized by Pope Gregory, he also seems to
have had a strong party of monks on his side, probably those who had
joined the Order during the last few years. Their names have not come
down to us, and their personalities have merged in that of Elias who
thus led them forward on a somewhat perilous way. They began by
attempting to depose Giovanni Parenti while he was holding a Chapter
in the new convent, a few days after the ceremony of the Translation
of the body of St. Francis to the Basilica. His friars were gathered
round him discussing the various missions to be undertaken, and the
work that had been done during the past year, when the door was thrown
open and a crowd of excited friars with Elias at their head appeared
upon the threshold. Before anyone could realize what this strange
apparition meant, Elias was borne rapidly along by his companions and
installed in the seat of Giovanni Parenti, while a scene of
indescribable tumult arose among those whose indignation had not yet
cooled down after the events of the past week. It is said that St.
Anthony of Padua was present at this conclave, and vainly tried to
calm the excitement, but his voice was drowned in the clamour. At
last, driven to despair, Giovanni Parenti began to cry aloud and tear
his garments as one distraught; he could not have hit upon a better
plan, for where words had failed this piece of dramatic acting
produced an instantaneous effect. His friars formed a vanguard round
him, acclaiming him Vicar-General as they beat back the intruders with
hard blows and angry scowls. Elias, seeing the game was lost, threw
himself on the ground, and with expressions of deep contrition
implored forgiveness. He was pardoned, but banished to a distant
hermitage, where humbled and sad he pondered for many months upon his
next move. He allowed his hair and beard to grow to such a length that
even his enemies began to believe his repentance was sincere, and only
two years after his misconduct we find him elected Vicar-General in
the place of his former rival, and, under the title of Guardian and
Master of the Basilica and Convent, in full command of the works at
San Francesco.
He now enjoyed a season of peace and plenty in the comfortable
quarters of the franciscan convent, and is said to have gathered a
household about him surpassing the splendour of a cardinal's court.
Fra Illuminato di Rieti (afterwards Bishop of Assisi) acted as his
secretary, writing numberless letters to "the Pope and the Princes of
the World," for Elias was in correspondence with more than one crowned
head and paid many visits to distant courts in quest of money for the
Assisan Church. On these journeys he always went on horseback, and
even when going from one church to another in Umbria, he was well
mounted on a "fat and stout palfrey," to the intense scandal of some
of the friars. "He also had secular servants," writes an indignant
chronicler, "all dressed in divers colours like to those of bishops,
who ministered to him in all things." His food was always good, and he
had the reputation of keeping an excellent cook.
This peaceful and successful period of his life was of short duration,
for he soon fell into dire trouble and disgrace. It was his misfortune
to be sent by Pope Gregory, who trusted implicitly in his discretion
and ability, on a mission to Frederic II, in the hopes of bringing the
Emperor to a sense of his misdoings. A disciple of St. Francis seemed
to be the right person to send as an emissary of peace; but instead of
the orthodox humble and barefooted friar, we read of him as a very
haughty personage, quite at his ease in the political world, then
ringing with the angry cries of Guelph and Ghibelline.
No sooner had Elias reached the franciscan convent at Parma than the
magnates of the city, aware of the errand he had come upon, assembled
to do him honour. Fra Salimbene, who was present at the interview,
describes how Elias waited for his visitors, his head swathed in an
Armenian turban, and comfortably seated upon a soft chair drawn close
to a huge fire. When Gherardo da Correggio, known as "Messer il
Podesta of the big teeth," entered the room, Elias remained seated,
and to the astonishment of all in no way disturbed himself for his
illustrious guest. The Podesta very sensibly took no offence, but
passed the matter over by expressing his wonder that the Vicar-General
should have chosen so cold a season for his visit to Lombardy--a
glance at the fire had told him that this franciscan friar liked
comfort as much as most people.
There is no detailed account of the interview of Elias with the
Emperor to inform us whether he behaved at it with the same easy
familiarity; all we know is that Frederic, "the wonder of the world,"
and Elias, the Assisan friar, formed a friendship which lasted during
the remainder of their lives, linking them together in a common fate.
Whether Elias was won over from the first by the charm of so
fascinating a personality, or simply baffled by a mind more subtle
than his own, it is difficult to say, as the chroniclers have drawn
too thick a veil over this unfortunate meeting for anyone to judge
with fairness. His failure certainly gave a good opportunity to his
many enemies to commence a very satisfactory scheme of blackening his
character with the Pope; and the rumour flew to Rome that he was a
traitor to his church. Branded with the abhorred name of Ghibelline
there was now little hope for Elias, whose friendship with the
arch-enemy of Holy Church grew always stronger. The Lombards becoming
uneasy, accused Gregory of favouring the Emperor, while the latter
bitterly complained that the Pope listened too much to the cause of
the Lombards, and thought too little of the imperial dignity. At last
a Chapter was called to enquire into the conduct of the Vicar-General,
and as he was not present, his misdeeds lost nothing by the telling.
Although Elias was deposed, and his place filled by a Pisan, he still
held the title of Guardian and Master of the Assisan Basilica, but in
a city of such strong Guelph sympathies as Assisi, it was unlikely he
would be left in peace, especially as the Pope no longer favoured him.
Life soon became impossible there, and of his own free will he retired
to a hermitage in the woods of Cortona, followed by some dozen
faithful friars, "not excepting," adds a spiteful chronicler, "Fra
Bartolomeo da Padova, his most excellent cook." Thence he wrote to the
Pope explaining his conduct, and humbly entreating to be pardoned, but
the letter was found years afterwards in the pocket of the Pisan
Vicar-General, who had promised to deliver it safely at Rome. Whether
the letter was wilfully laid aside or only forgotten, none have been
able to decide, but the incident had disastrous effects upon Elias. He
waited anxiously for the pardon which never came, until embittered by
finding himself deserted by nearly everyone, he openly joined the
party of Frederic II. He went a step further, and abused Pope Gregory
in caustic language, taunting him with injustice and avarice, and with
being a simonist, which of course ended in his excommunication "to the
great scandal of the Church." The news of his disgrace spread quickly
through Italy, and the children sang a couplet, invented on the spur
of the moment, under the windows of franciscan convents:
"Or'e attorno Frat'Elia
Che pres'ha la mala via."
It was the cry which met the friars in every street they passed, so
that the name of their former Vicar-General became hateful to them.
And yet even now Elias must have had some friends in the Order, as at
a council held at Genoa in 1244 there were a few who wished to
reinstate him. The Pope commanded him to appear, but as the papal
brief never arrived he was thus again debarred from clearing his much
damaged character. The consequence of these efforts in his behalf only
ended in his falling still deeper into disgrace; and for the second
time he was excommunicated. We next hear of him roaming about the
country with Frederic II, who found him useful on more than one
occasion as a diplomatic agent. Elias was sent with strong letters of
recommendation from Pier delle Vigne to Baldwin II, Emperor of
Constantinople, and to Hugo I, King of Cyprus, and he was even charged
to arrange a marriage for a daughter of Frederic. Among his various
talents Elias seems to have been able to accommodate himself to a
military life. We hear of him, both at the siege of Faenza and of
Ravenna, riding out to battle on a magnificent charger. At other times
he found a peaceful asylum at the Emperor's court, presenting a
strange contrast to the "strolling minstrels, troubadours, poets,
warriors, jugglers and artists of every grade" who frequented it. Upon
the Emperor's death Elias returned to Cortona where the citizens
received him kindly as he had obtained privileges for them at various
times from his patron. Here, at the small hermitage in the ilex wood,
he passed the last few years of his life in building a Franciscan
church and convent, aided by the citizens who gave the ground for the
site.
While the last touch was being put to the building of the great
Assisan Basilica and it was about to be consecrated by Innocent IV, in
1253, Elias lay dying in his little cell at Cortona. His loneliness
touched the heart of a lay brother, who with gentle words expressed
his sorrow at seeing him an outcast from the Order and offered him
help. Elias, no longer the proud ambitious churchman, answered very
gently: "My brother, I see no other way save that thou shouldst go to
the Pope and beg him for the love of God and of St. Francis His
servant, through whose teaching I quitted the world, to absolve me
from his excommunication and to give me back again the habit of
religion." The lay brother hastened to Rome and pleaded so humbly that
Innocent "permitted him to go back, and if he found Brother Elias
alive he was to absolve him in his name from the excommunication and
restore unto him the habit; so full of joy the friar departed and
returned in hot haste to Brother Elias, and finding him yet alive but
nigh unto death he absolved him from the excommunication and put on
him again the habit, and Brother Elias quitted this life and his soul
was saved by the merits of St. Francis and by his prayers in which
Brother Elias had reposed such great faith."
Some say that even at the last fate pursued Elias, for the city of
Cortona being at that time under an interdict no blessed oil could be
found for the sacrament of extreme unction. Certainly his body was not
allowed to rest in the church he had built for the brethren. A zealous
friar dug it up and flung it on a dunghill, saying that no Ghibelline
should be permitted to lie in consecrated ground.
Thus it was that Elias left a name hated among the franciscans as
bitterly as the Emperor Frederic's always has been by Guelph
historians. But while the war against the latter still rages as
fiercely as ever, Elias, save for the gratitude felt by the citizens
of Assisi, rests almost forgotten and his story hidden in the pages of
old chronicles. Few even remember that owing to the untiring energy of
this man Assisi owns one of the most beautiful monuments of mediaeval
art. It is possible that had Fra Leo, Bernard of Quintavalle and his
companions succeeded in those first days of struggle, the Basilica of
San Francesco might never have attained its present magnificence or
the art of Giotto been born in this Umbrian corner of Italy. Chi lo
sa? It is a question one hardly even likes to think of. But the danger
passed away, and who cares now whether the franciscans grumbled at the
time, or said the church and convent with its buttresses and towers
looked more like the feudal fortress of some mighty baron than the
tomb of the Preacher of Poverty? The San Francesco we love rises
golden and rose-tinted above the olive groves and the vineyards, above
the plain with its young corn and the white villages lying among the
fruit-trees, above a rushing torrent which circles round the base of
the Subasian mountain on its way to the Tiber; and all day the varied
group of church, arcaded convent and terraced gardens, is showing its
beauty to the sun.
In every light it is beautiful, in every mood we recall it, together
with the choicest things we have seen in travel, haunting us like the
charm of a living person. When the winter mists at early morning wrap
round it like a mantle, or the stars form crowns above its roof and
bell tower, there is always some new loveliness which thrills us, some
fresh note of colour we have not noticed there before, making us again
and again feel grateful that Elias forgot or ignored the teaching of
his master.
[Illustration: SAN FRANCESCO FROM THE PLAIN]
FOOTNOTES:
[59] In the same way when Beato Egidio, ill and nigh his end, wished
to return to the Portiuncula to die in the place he loved so well, the
Perugians refused their consent and even placed soldiers round the
monastery of Monte Ripido to prevent his escape.
[60] In the illustrations on p. 38 and p. 107 is shown the gallows
erected where now stands the franciscan basilica, but it is unlikely
that the property of a private individual should have been used for
such a purpose, and Collis Inferni may simply have meant the spur of
hill beneath the upper portion of Assisi upon which the castle stood.
[61] See Vasari, _Life of Arnolfo di Lapo_.
[62] It would be a thankless task to follow the bewildering maze of
contradictory evidence which has enveloped the question as to who
built San Francesco. Those who are eager to do so, however, can
consult Henry Thode's exhaustive work, _Franz von Assisi_ (beginning
p. 187), which deals most thoroughly with the subject. Leader Scott
also, in her learned book upon _The Cathedral Builders_, gives some
ingenious theories with regard to "Jacopo" and his supposed
relationship with Arnolfo, p. 315-316.
Another book is _I Maestri Comacini_, by Professore Marzario, whose
statements about "Jacopo's" nationality are interesting and probable.
But, following Vasari a little too blindly, he gives us the startling
fact that "Jacopo" died in 1310, this, even supposing him to have been
only twenty-five when he was at Assisi as chief architect, would make
him one hundred and fifteen years of age at the time of his death.
[63] _L'Architecture Gothique_ par M. Edouard Corroyer. See pp. 96 and
105.
[64] _Speculum Perfectionis._ Edited by Paul Sabatier, cap. x.
[65] For the Latin text see p. c. of M. Paul Sabatier's introduction
to his edition of the _Speculum Perfectionis_.
[66] Giovanni Parenti, who does not stand out very clearly in the
history of the Order, was a Florentine magistrate of Citta di
Castello, one of the first towns to feel the influence of St. Francis.
There he heard of the new movement which so rapidly was spreading
throughout Western Europe, and, together with many of the citizens,
became converted through the teaching of the Umbrian saint.
[67] It is impossible in this small book to give any idea of the
various influences at work upon the young franciscan order during the
life of the saint. I can only refer my readers to the charming pages
of M. Paul Sabatier, who gives us a vivid picture of these early days
in _La Vie de Saint Francois_, and in his introduction to the
_Speculum Perfectionis_.