_Giotto's Legend of St. Francis in the Upper Church_
"What, therefore, Giotto gave to art was, before all things,
vitality."--J. A. SYMONDS. _Renaissance in Italy._
Giotto in the Lower Church had felt his way towards the full
expression of his genius; succeeding so well in the four Allegories
that he was chosen to illustrate the life of St. Francis, withheld, as
we have seen, from all former artists, while Cimabue was to hear the
poet's praise of his pupil, "Ora ha Giotto il grido." The task
undertaken by the young painter, already a master at twenty-five, was
almost superhuman, and certainly unique in the career of any artist;
for whereas the pictorial treatment of the New Testament had been
attempted by many during several centuries, Giotto was destined to
invent forms for the whole franciscan cycle with such perfection that
no succeeding artist has varied his formula. It remains a wonderful
achievement, and the noble manner of its accomplishment proved him to
be, as Mr Roger Fry expresses it, "the supreme epic painter of the
world."
If St. Francis was fortunate in having his life related by so
admirable a story-teller, Giotto also owed something to the early
chroniclers who seeing, perhaps unconsciously, the extraordinary
poetry and the dramatic incidents in the saint's career, had
faithfully recorded them in simple and beautiful language. So far the
work was ready for Giotto, even the exact scenes were chosen for him
to illustrate, but the problem how to unfold and make them familiar to
the faithful by simple means, and yet not to lose the dignity and
charm of the theme, remained for him to solve; and the representation,
by a few figures, of a whole dramatic incident in so vivid a manner
could only have succeeded in the hands of a great master of the
fourteenth century. It is nearly certain that Giotto used St.
Bonaventure's _Life of St. Francis_, finished in 1263 and founded,
with but few additions, upon _The Three Companions_ and Celano's first
and second _Life of St. Francis_. Though written with a certain charm
of style and though it lacks the ring of those early pages, in which
St. Francis becomes known to us in such a way that we forget he lived
seven hundred years ago; and although the various incidents of his
life are presented like so many beautiful pictures, there is the
feeling always that St. Bonaventure was writing about a saint already
honoured upon earth and in heaven, and not of the man whom all loved
as the "Poverello d'Assisi." But this legend served Giotto's purpose;
and a knowledge of the words he followed being necessary in order to
see where he simply kept to the franciscan legend, and where he
penetrated the true spirit of the saint's life and its dramatic
interest, we quote from it at some length, although many of the main
facts have already been treated of in a preceding chapter.[95]
I. _St. Francis honoured by the Simpleton._--(We begin on the right
wall by the High Altar, and follow straight on to the opposite side,
the legend unfolding as in the pages of a book.)
"A certain man of great simplicity dwelt in those days in Assisi,
who, by virtue of knowledge divinely infused, whenever he met
Francis in the street, would take off his mantle, and spread it
upon the ground before him, declaring that he did so because he
was a man worthy of all honour and reverence, who should shortly
perform great works and marvellous deeds...."[96]
The bare facts are here narrated which Giotto does not alter, but he
puts such life into the scene that we feel he might have been present
when the simpleton cast himself at Francis' feet and astonished the
Assisans by his words. Attention is fixed upon the six people in the
foreground. Two worthy citizens have just arrived in time to see the
cloak being spread on the ground before Francis, and to hear the
prophetic words; and as they turn to each other, one pointing to the
scene, the other raising his hand with a movement of surprise, we seem
to hear their carping criticisms upon the brilliant youth who,
although he spent his time in singing and carousals, was one day to
bring renown to their city. The young Francis, ever heedless of
worldly comment, is stepping lightly on to the cloak, with a movement
of surprise that he should receive such honour. All have the
Florentine headgear, but the head of St. Francis is covered by a small
white cap fitting close behind the ears, just showing his hair in
front, and we feel that Giotto would have left him so, but the
franciscans, ever to and fro in the church to see that the story was
painted as they liked, insisted upon an aureole being added. As much
glory for St. Francis they cried, as gold and money can give him. So
Giotto, who disliked unnecessary decorations, was made to put an
aureole above the white cap, larger than any we have ever seen. But
take away the halo and we should yet know which of the figures is the
saint, for he stands a little apart from his two noble friends with
ermine lined cloaks who talk with hands clasped together, and is
perhaps already wondering about the destiny which awaits him and of
which he was unaware, "for as yet he understood not the great purposes
of God towards him."
Besides the human interest of the frescoes it is a delightful task to
study the architecture in each scene, for here, in the Upper Church,
Giotto has built a whole city of little pink houses with balconies,
towers and turrets, of exquisite Gothic basilicas, of temples and
gabled thrones. His priests sit within palaces full of lancet windows
and pointed arches, the groined roofs, as in the Assisan Church,
ablaze with myriads of stars. What love he had for dainty ornaments,
simple, nay almost severe in outline, but perfectly finished; and he
always likes to show the blue sky overhead, or at least peeping
through one of the windows, making the marble seem more lustrous and
creamy white. Would that all Florence had been built by him.
2. _St. Francis giving his cloak to a poor Knight._
"Going forth one day, as was his wont, in apparel suited to his
state, he met a certain soldier of honour and courage, but poor
and vilely clad; of whose poverty, feeling a tender and sorrowful
compassion, he took off his new clothes and gave them to the poor
man-at-arms."
None are there to witness the kind action of the young saint who, like
another St. Martin, has dismounted to give his mantle to the poor man
in a ravine near a little town enclosed by walls, a church spire
rising upon the opposite hill. Giotto must have been thinking of the
small rock-set towns, with stunted trees growing outside their walls,
in his Tuscan home in the Mugello when he painted this, instead of
the Umbrian town, standing amid vineyards and cornfields above an open
valley with winding rivers, whose church he was decorating. It is the
only one of the series in which the landscape is an important part of
the picture, in the others it is a mere accessory.
3. _The Vision of St. Francis._
"On the following night, when he was asleep, the divine mercy
showed him a spacious and beautiful palace filled with arms and
military ensigns, all marked with the Cross of Christ to make
known to him that his charitable deed done to the poor soldier
for the love of the great King of heaven should receive an
unspeakable reward."
It will be remembered that after this dream St. Francis started to
join the army of Walter de Brienne, having wrongly interpreted the
vision, which in reality symbolised the army he was eventually to lead
in the service of the Pope (see p. 44). This is, perhaps, the least
successful of the frescoes; probably the subject did not appeal
strongly to the painter (he only seems to have enjoyed inventing the
colonnaded palace with its trefoil windows) and also, as Mr Ruskin
explains: "Giotto never succeeded, to the end of his days, in
representing a figure lying down, and at ease. It is one of the most
curious points in all his character. Just the thing which he could
study from nature without the smallest hindrance, is the thing he
never can paint; while subtleties of form and gesture, which depend
absolutely on their momentariness, and actions in which no model can
stay an instant, he seizes with infallible accuracy."[97]
4. _St. Francis praying before the Crucifix in San Damiano._
"As he lay prostrate before a crucifix he was filled with great
spiritual consolation, and gazing with tearful eyes upon the
holy cross of the Lord, he heard with his bodily ears a voice
from the crucifix, which said thrice to him: 'Francis, go and
build up My house, which as thou seest, is falling into ruin.'"
Unfortunately this fresco is much faded and in parts peeled off; this,
combined with the representation of a ruined church, gives a curious
effect of total destruction, as if an earthquake had passed over the
land. The figure of the saint, just visible, and his attitude of
earnest prayer is very charming.
[Illustration: ST. FRANCIS RENOUNCES THE WORLD
(D. ANDERSON--_photo_)]
5. _St. Francis renounces the world._
"And now his father, ... brought this son, ... before the Bishop
of Assisi to compel him to renounce in his hands all his
inheritance.... As soon, therefore, as he came into the Bishop's
presence, without a moment's delay, neither waiting for his
father's demand nor uttering a word himself, he laid aside all
his clothes, and gave them back to his father.... With marvellous
fervour he then turned to his father, and spoke thus to him in
the presence of all: 'Until this hour I have called thee my
father on earth; from henceforth, I may say confidently, my
Father Who art in heaven.'"
This, perhaps the most interesting of Giotto's frescoes, can be
compared with the one in Sta. Croce at Florence on the same subject,
painted when time and labour had given greater strength to his
genius. The Assisan scene is treated with more simplicity, and, if
less perfect as a decorative scheme, possesses quite as much
dramatic interest and vitality. A little block of pink houses on
either side reminds us that we are outside the Bishop's palace in
the Piazza S. Maria Maggiore, where the scene is said to have
occurred. Of course all the Assisans have turned out to see how the
quarrel between Bernardone and his son will end. They stand behind
the irate father like a Greek chorus, while one, evidently a citizen
of distinction from his ermine lined cloak and tippet, restrains
Messer Pietro, who is throwing back his arm with the evident
intention of striking his son. Francis' passion for repairing
Assisan churches and ministering to the wants of the poor had proved
a costly business to the thrifty merchant, who loved his money and
had little sympathy with Assisan beggars (sojourners in Assisi may
agree with him). Delightful are the two tiny children who with one
hand clutch up their garments, full of stones to throw at St.
Francis. The bishop is the calmest person there, turning to his
priests he seems to say: "All is well, there is God the Father's
hand in the sky (with a little patience it can be distinguished in
the fresco), and we are sure to gain the day, spite of Pietro's
angry words." And so he quietly folds his episcopal mantle around
St. Francis, who from this moment becomes indeed the Child of
heaven. It may seem strange, as Mr Ruskin truly observes, that St.
Francis, one of whose virtues was obedience, should begin life by
disobeying his father, but Giotto means to show that the young saint
was casting off all worldly restraint in order to obey the Supreme
Power, and the scene is a counterpart to Dante's lines referring to
his marriage with the Lady Poverty.
"A dame, to whom none openeth pleasure's gate
More than to death, was, 'gainst his father's will,
His stripling choice: and he did make her his,
Before the spiritual court, by nuptial bonds,
And in his father's sight: from day to day,
Then loved her more devoutly."[98]
6. _The dream of Innocent III._
"He saw in a dream the Lateran Basilica, now falling into ruin,
supported by the shoulders of a poor, despised, and feeble man.
'Truly,' said he, 'this is he who by his works and his teaching
shall sustain the Church of Christ.'"
In the representations of this vision painted for Dominican churches,
the Lateran is always supported by the two great founders, Francis and
Dominic, who, in their different ways, helped Innocent in his
difficult task of reforming the Church. Giotto shows his power and the
advance art is making under his hand, in the figure of St. Francis,
who with body slightly bent back and one hand on his hip, seems to
support the great weight, while his feet are so firmly planted that
there is no uncomfortable feeling of strain and only a sense of
strength and security. Two men are seated by the bedside of the Pope,
one is asleep while the other keeps watch, and in his slightly wearied
attitude and the reposeful figure of the sleeper, Giotto's keen
observation of the ordinary incidents of every day life is very
apparent.
7. _Innocent III, sanctions the Rule of St. Francis._
"He was filled with a great and special devotion and love for the
servant of God. He granted all his petitions, and promised to
grant him still greater things. He approved the Rule, gave him a
mission to preach penance, and granted to all the lay brothers in
the company of the servant of God to wear a tonsure smaller than
that worn by priests, and freely to preach the Word of God."
Giotto, in his fresco, has to represent the most important event in
the life of the saint--his arrival at the papal court when he comes
face to face with one of the greatest of the Roman Pontiffs; and by
the simplest possible means the scene is brought before us. Here are
no crimson-robed cardinals, no gilded papal throne; the bishops
grouped behind Innocent are hardly noticed, or even the brethren who,
with hands clasped as though in prayer, press closely to their leader
like a flock of sheep round their shepherd. The eye is so fixed upon
the two central figures, that all else fades away. Giotto has seized
the supreme moment when the Pope, having overcome his fear lest St.
Francis should falter in a life of poverty and prove to be only
another heretical leader of which Italy had already too many, is, with
kingly gesture, giving the Umbrian penitent authority to preach
throughout the land. St. Francis, holding out his hand to receive his
simple Rule, now bearing the papal seals, looks up with steady gaze;
he is the most humble among men kneeling at the feet of Rome's
sovereign, but strong in love, in faith and in knowledge of the
righteousness of his mission. M. Paul Sabatier has beautifully
illustrated the meaning of Giotto when he writes: "On pourrait croire
que le peintre avait trempe ses levres dans la coupe du Voyant
Calabrais [Joachim de Flore] et qu'il a voulu symboliser dans
l'attitude de ces deux hommes la rencontre des representants de deux
ages de l'humanite, celui de la Loi et celui de l'Amour."
8. _Vision of the Friars at Rivo-Torto._
"Now while the brethren abode in the place aforesaid, the holy
man went on a certain Saturday into the city of Assisi, for he
was to preach on the Sunday morning in the Cathedral Church. And
being thus absent in body from his children, and engaged in
devout prayer to God (as was his custom throughout the night), in
a certain hut in the canon's garden, about midnight, whilst some
of the brethren were asleep and others watching in prayer, a
chariot of fire, of marvellous splendour, was seen to enter the
door, and thrice to pass hither and thither through the house;
..."
Giotto's was not a nature to find much enjoyment in the portrayal of
such events as saints being carried aloft in fiery chariots, and in
dealing with this miracle he dedicated all his power to representing
the astonishment of the brethren who witness the vision at Rivo-Torto.
Two talk together and point to St. Francis being borne across the
heavens by crimson horses, one hastens to awaken his companions who
are huddled together in their hut like tired dogs asleep, and another
starts from his slumbers to hear the wondrous news.
9. _Vision of Brother Pacifico._
"This friar being in company with the holy man, entered with him
into a certain deserted church, and there, as he was praying
fervently he fell into an ecstacy, and amid many thrones in
heaven he saw one more glorious than all the rest, adorned with
precious stones of most glorious brightness. And marvelling at
the surpassing brightness of that throne, he began anxiously to
consider within himself who should be found worthy to fill it.
Then he heard a voice saying to him: 'This was the throne of one
of the fallen angels, and now it is reserved for the humble
Francis.'"
With what devotion St. Francis, his hands crossed upon his breast,
prays upon the steps of the altar, while the friar behind is intent on
asking questions about the marvellous thrones he sees poised above his
head. Nothing can exceed the grace of the wide-winged angel floating
down to earth to record the humility of Francis, his garments slightly
spread by his movement through the air.
10. _St. Francis chases the Devils away from Arezzo._
"In order to disperse these seditious powers of the air, he sent
as his herald Brother Sylvester, a man simple as a dove, saying
to him: 'Go to the gates of the city, and there in the Name of
Almighty God command the demons by virtue of holy obedience, that
without delay they depart from that place....'"
The main facts of the legend are followed closely in this fresco, but
St. Bonaventure does not tell us how the miracle was performed, while
Giotto, understanding the soul of Francis, paints him kneeling outside
the gates of Arezzo praying with intense fervour for the salvation of
the city. His faith is so strong that he does not even look up like
Brother Sylvester, to see the demons flee away; some springing from
off the chimneys, others circling above the towers, their bat-like
wings outspread. The figure of Brother Sylvester is very fine, and the
way he is lifting his tunic and stepping forward, as he stretches out
one arm with a gesture of command towards the demons, could not be
rendered with more ease and truth.
11. _St. Francis and Brother Illuminatus before the Sultan of Egypt._
"When they had gone a little further, they met with a band of
Saracens, who, quickly falling upon them, like wolves upon a
flock of sheep, cruelly seized and bound the servants of God ...
having in many ways afflicted and oppressed them, they were ...
according to the holy man's desire, brought into the presence of
the Sultan. And being questioned by that prince whence and for
what purpose they had come ... the servant of Christ, being
enlightened from on high, answered him thus: 'If thou and thy
people will be converted to Christ I will willingly abide with
thee. But if thou art doubtful whether or not to forsake the law
of Mohamed for the faith of Christ, command a great fire to be
lighted, and I will go into it with thy priests, that it may be
known which faith should be held to be the most certain and the
most holy.' To whom the Sultan made answer: 'I do not believe
that any of my priests would be willing to expose himself to the
fire or to endure any manner of torment in defence of his faith.'
Then said the holy man: 'If thou wilt promise me for thyself and
thy people that thou wilt embrace the worship of Christ if I come
forth unharmed, I will enter the fire alone.' ... But the Sultan
answered that he dared not accept this challenge, because he
feared a sedition of the people."
This subject, from its dramatic interest, appealed to Giotto, giving
full scope to his powers, both as a story-teller, and as a painter
with such genius for portraying dignity and nobility of character. The
principal persons, the Sultan and St. Francis, are here clearly placed
before us as Giotto wished us to conceive them, and how correctly he
realised their characters we learn from the chronicles of the time.
"We saw," writes Jacques de Vitry in one of his letters, "Brother
Francis arrive, who is the founder of the Minorite Order; he was a
simple man, without letters, but very lovable and dear to God as well
as to men. He came while the army of the Crusaders was under
Damietta, and was much respected by all." This is indeed the man
depicted by Giotto in the slight figure of the preacher standing at
the foot of the marble throne, so humble, yet full of that secret
power which won even the Sultan's admiration. But though the story
centres in St. Francis, the person Giotto wishes all to notice is the
Sultan, who, far from being an ignorant heathen to be converted,
conveys the idea of a most noble and kingly person, Malek Camel in
short, known throughout the East as the "Perfect Prince." His mollahs
had wished to kill St. Francis and his companion, and the fine answer
he made was worthy of his high character. "Seigneurs," he said,
addressing his visitors, "they have commanded me by Mahomet and by the
law to have your heads cut off. For thus the law commands; but I will
go against the order, or else I should render you bad guerdon for
having risked death to save my soul."
Giotto has chosen the most dramatic moment when St. Francis offers to
go through the ordeal by fire with the mahommedan priests, to prove
the power of the Christian God. With one look back upon the fire the
mollahs gather their robes around them and hurriedly leave the
Sultan's presence; St. Francis points towards the flames as though he
were assuring the Sultan that they will not hurt him, while the friar
behind gazes contemptuously after the retreating figures of the
mollahs.
Dante and Milton in their different ways were able to give us a vivid
idea of fire, flame and heat, and so would Giotto have done had he
expressed his ideas by words instead of in painting; but he was wise
enough not to attempt it in his fresco, and so in lieu of a blaze of
crimson flames we have only what looks like a stunted red cypress,
realistic enough to make us understand the story without drawing our
attention away from the main interest of the scene. In this fresco we
are again reminded of the simple methods, grand and impressive by
their very straightforwardness, by which he brings before us so
strange a scene and accentuates the importance of an event in his own
individual way.
12. _Ecstasy of St. Francis._
This legend is not recounted by St. Bonaventure, Celano, or in _The
Three Companions_, but there is a tradition of how St. Francis one day
in divine communion with God, was wrapt in ecstasy and his companions
saw him raised from the ground in a cloud. All that is human in the
scene Giotto has done as well as possible, but he evidently found it
hard to realise how St. Francis would have looked rising up in a
cloud, so he has devoted himself to rendering truthfully the
astonishment of the disciples who witness the miracle.
13. _The Institution of the Feast at Greccio._
"... in order to excite the inhabitants of Greccio to commemorate
the nativity of the Infant Jesus with great devotion, he
determined to keep it with all possible solemnity; and lest he
should be accused of lightness or novelty, he asked and obtained
the permission of the sovereign Pontiff. Then he prepared a
manger, and brought hay, an ox and an ass to the place appointed.
The brethren were summoned, the people ran together, the forest
resounded with their voices, and that venerable night was made
glorious by many brilliant lights and sonorous psalms of praise.
The man of God stood before the manger, full of devotion and
piety, bathed in tears and radiant with joy; many masses were
said before it, and the Holy Gospel was chanted by Francis, the
Levite of Christ.... A certain valiant and veracious soldier,
Master John of Greccio, who, for the love of Christ, had left the
warfare of this world, and become a dear friend of the holy man,
affirmed that he beheld an Infant marvellously beautiful sleeping
in that manger, whom the blessed Father Francis embraced with
both his arms, as if he would awake him from sleep."
Besides the wonderful way in which Giotto has succeeded, to use the
words of Mr Roger Fry, "in making visible, as it were, the sudden
thrill which penetrates an assembly at a moment of supreme
significance," there is the further interest of knowing that the scene
of the Nativity arranged by St. Francis at Greccio, was the first of
the mystery plays represented in Italy which were the beginning of the
Italian drama. Giotto makes not only Master John of Greccio see the
miracle of the Holy Child lying in the saint's arms and smiling up
into his face, but also those who accompany him and some of the
friars, while the other brethren, singing with mouths wide open like
young birds awaiting their food, are much too occupied to notice what
passes around them. A group of women, their heads swathed in white
veils, are entering at the door, and the whole scene is one of
animation and festivity. The marble canopy, with tall marble columns
and gabled towers, over the altar is one of Giotto's most exquisite
and graceful designs. But Giotto the shepherd has not succeeded so
happily in depicting an ox which lies at the saint's feet like a
purring cat.
14. _The Miracle of the Water._
"Another time, when the man of God wished to go to a certain
desert place, that he might give himself the more freely to
contemplation, being very weak, he rode upon an ass belonging to
a poor man. It being a hot summer's day, the poor man, as he
followed the servant of Christ, became weary with the long way
and the steep ascent, and beginning to faint with fatigue and
burning thirst, he called after the saint: 'Behold,' he said, 'I
shall die of thirst unless I can find a little water at once to
refresh me.' Then without delay the man of God got off the ass,
and kneeling down with his hands stretched out to heaven, he
ceased not to pray till he knew he was heard."
Giotto has here rendered the aridity of the summit of La Vernia, its
pinnacles of rocks with stunted trees. Two friars, by now quite
accustomed to miracles, converse together as they lead the donkey from
which St. Francis has dismounted to pray that the thirsty man's wishes
may be gratified. The grouping of the figures repeat the pointed lines
of the landscape, and the whole is harmonious and of great charm of
composition. It was justly admired by Vasari, who thought the peasant
drinking was worthy of "perpetual praise." Florentine writers were
continually harping on what they considered to be Giotto's claim to
immortality, his genius for portraying nature so that his copy seemed
as real as life, an opinion shared by Vasari when he gives his reason
for admiring this particular fresco. "The eager desire," he says,
"with which the man bends down to the water is portrayed with such
marvellous effect, that one could almost believe him to be a living
man actually drinking."
Over the door is a medallion of the Madonna and Child which once was
by Giotto, but now, alas, the eyes of faith must see his handiwork
through several layers of paint with which restorers have been allowed
to cover it. A slightly sardonic smile has been added to the Madonna,
and to appreciate what is left of her charm it is necessary to look at
her from the other end of the church, where the beauty of line and
composition can still be discerned notwithstanding the barbarous
treatment she has undergone.
15. _St. Francis Preaching to the Birds at Bevagna._
"When he drew near to Bevagna, he came to a place where a great
multitude of birds of different kinds were assembled together,
which, when they saw the holy man, came swiftly to the place, and
saluted him as if they had the use of reason. They all turned
towards him and welcomed him; those which were on the trees bowed
their heads in an unaccustomed manner, and all looked earnestly
at him, until he went to them and seriously admonished them to
listen to the Word of the Lord.... While he spoke these and
other such words to them, the birds rejoiced in a marvellous
manner, swelling their throats, spreading their wings, opening
their beaks, and looking at him with great attention."
This theme has been treated by another artist in the Lower Church,
with little success as we have seen; it is also sometimes introduced
in the predellas of big pictures of the school of Cimabue; but it
remained for Giotto to give us a picture as beautiful in colour as
those left by the early chroniclers in words. He never painted it
again on a large scale, and the small representation in the predella
of the picture in the Louvre follows the Assisan fresco in every
detail. Two friars whose brown habits are tinted with mauve, one tree,
a blue, uncertain landscape and some dozen birds, are all he thought
necessary to explain the story, and yet the whole poetry of St.
Francis' life is here, the keynote of his character, which has made
him the most beloved among saints, and the man who though poor,
unlettered and often reviled, was to herald the coming of a new age in
religion, art and literature. With what love he bends towards his
little feathered brethren as he beckons them to him, and they gather
fearlessly round him while he points to the skies and tells them in
simple words their duties towards their Creator.
Another Florentine, Benozzo Gozzoli, painted this subject; there
across the Assisan valley at Montefalco we can see it. His birds are
certainly better drawn, there are more of them too, and we can even
amuse ourselves by distinguishing among them golden orioles,
blackbirds, doves and wood pigeons, but no one would hesitate to say
that real charm and poetry are missing. Giotto's fresco, painted 600
years ago, is somewhat faded and many of the birds are partly effaced,
but we do not feel it matters much what they are--we only love the
fact that St. Francis called the Umbrian birds around him and preached
them a sermon with the same care as if he had been in the presence of
a pope, and that Giotto believed the legend and took pains with his
work, intending that we also should believe and understand something
of the sweetness of this Umbrian scene.
16. _Death of the Knight of Celano._
"When the holy man came into the soldier's house all the family
rejoiced greatly to receive this poor one of the Lord. And before
he began to eat, according to his custom, the holy man offered
his usual prayers and praises to God, with his eyes raised to
heaven. When he had finished his prayer, he familiarly called his
kind host aside, and said to him: 'Behold, my host and brother,
in compliance with thy prayers I have come to eat in thy house.
But now attend to that which I say to thee, for thou shalt eat no
more here, but elsewhere. Therefore, confess thy sins with truly
penitent contrition; let nothing remain in thee unrevealed by
true confession, for the Lord will requite thee to-day for the
kindness with which thou hast received His poor servant.' The
good man believed these holy words, and disclosing all his sins
in confession to the companion of St. Francis, he set all his
house in order, making himself ready for death, and preparing
himself for it to the best of his power. They then sat down to
table, and the others began to eat, but the spirit of the host
immediately departed, according to the words of the man of God,
which foretold his sudden death."
This is one of the most characteristic of Giotto's works, showing his
power, unique at that time, of touching upon human sorrow with
simplicity, truth and restraint. Here is no exaggerated gesture of
grief, no feigned expression of surprise or false note to make us
doubt the truth of the tragedy that has befallen the house of Celano.
But the movement of the crowd of sorrowing people, the men gazing down
on the dead knight, the women weeping, their fair hair falling
about their shoulders, tell better than any restless movement the
awful grief which fills their hearts. It has happened so suddenly that
the friar still sits at table with his fork in his hand, while St.
Francis hast just risen to go to the people's assistance, while a man
in the Florentine dress turns to him seeming, from the gesture of his
hand, to say: "See, your prophecy has been fulfilled but too soon."
[Illustration: DEATH OF THE KNIGHT OF CELANO
(D. ANDERSON--_photo_)]
17. _St. Francis preaches before Honorius III._
"Having to preach on a certain day before the Pope and the
cardinals, at the suggestion of the Cardinal of Ostia he learned
a sermon by heart, which he had carefully prepared; when he was
about to speak it for their edification he wholly forgot
everything he had to say, so that he could not utter a word. He
related with true humility what had befallen him, and then,
having invoked the aid of the Holy Spirit, he began at once to
move the hearts of these great men...."
In this fine fresco Giotto has represented St. Francis holding his
audience as though spell-bound by the power of his eloquence, and the
contrast is great between the charming figure of the saint and that of
the stern and earnest Pope, who, deep in thought, is leaning his chin
on his hand, perhaps wondering at the strange chance which has brought
the slight brown figure, so dusty and so poorly clad, so ethereal and
so eloquent, into the midst of the papal court. It is delightful to
study the faces and gestures of the listeners; some are all enthusiasm
and interest, like the charming young cardinal in an orange-tinted
robe, whose thoughts seem to be far away following where St. Francis'
burning words are leading them; but the older man gazes critically at
the saint, perhaps saying within himself: "What is this I hear, we
must give up all, our fat benefices, our comfortable Roman palaces, to
follow Christ"; and the cardinal on the right of the Pope also seems
surprised at the new doctrines of love, poverty and sacrifice. Four
others lean their heads on their hands; but how varied are the
gestures, from the Pope, all eagerness and keen attention, to the
cardinal bowing his head sadly thinking, like the man of great
possessions, how pleasant it would be to become perfect, but how
impossible it is to leave the goods of this world. St. Francis'
companion is seated at his master's feet as though affirming, "I
follow his teaching, and all he says is right."
18. _The Apparition of St. Francis._
"For when the illustrious preacher and glorious Confessor,
Anthony, who is now with Christ, was preaching to the brethren in
the chapel at Arles on the title upon the Cross--'Jesus of
Nazareth, the King of the Jews'--a certain friar of approved
virtue named Monaldus, casting his eyes by divine inspiration
upon the door of the chapter-house, beheld, with his bodily eyes,
the blessed Francis raised in the air, blessing the brethren,
with his arms outstretched in the form of a Cross."
The friars sit in various attitudes of somewhat fatigued attention
before St. Anthony who is standing, and none seem as yet to be aware
of the apparition of St. Francis, who appears at the open door under a
Gothic archway, the blue sky behind him. There is a strange feeling of
peace about the scene.
19. _The Stigmata._
"... On the hard rock,
'Twixt Arno and the Tiber, he from Christ
Took the last signet, which his limbs two years
Did carry...."[99]
This fresco is unhappily much ruined; enough however remains to trace
a close resemblance to Giotto's predella of the same subject now in
the Louvre, but where the solemnity of the scene is increased by the
saint being alone with the Seraph upon La Vernia.
* * * * *
It may be well here to give some of the various opinions as to the
authorship of these frescoes, though in this small book it is
impossible to go at all deeply into the subject. Some, following Baron
von Rumohr, hold that the only paintings in the Upper Church by
Giotto, are the two by the door, the _Miracle of the Water_ and the
_Sermon to the Birds_, while Messrs. Crowe and Cavalcaselle give also
the first of the series and the last five to him, but while "youthful
and feeling his way," and all the rest to Gaddo Gaddi, or maybe
Filippo Rusutti. Lastly, Mr Bernhard Berenson is of opinion that
Giotto's style is to be clearly traced from the first fresco, _St.
Francis honoured by the Simpleton_, to the nineteenth, _The Stigmata_;
and they show so much affinity to the work of the great Florentine in
Sta. Croce and elsewhere, that it is impossible not to agree with him.
In the remaining frescoes, representing the death and miracles of St.
Francis, he sees a close resemblance to the work of the artist who
painted in the chapel of St. Nicholas (Lower Church), and who may have
aided Giotto in the Upper Church before being chosen to continue his
master's work.
20. _Death of St. Francis._
"The hour of his departure being at hand, he commanded all the
brethren who were in that place to be called to him, and
comforted them with consoling words concerning his death,
exhorting them with fatherly affection to the divine love....
When he had finished these loving admonitions, this man, most
dear to God, commanded that the Book of the Gospels should be
brought to him, and ... his most holy soul being set free and
absorbed in the abyss of the divine glory, the blessed man slept
in the Lord."
This fresco has suffered from the damp and all that clearly remains
are the angels, in whom the artist's feeling for graceful movement is
shown, their flight down towards the dead recalling the rush of the
swallows' wings as they circle in the evening above the towers of San
Francesco.
21. _The Apparitions of St. Francis._
"... Brother Augustine, a holy and just man, was minister of the
Friars at Lavoro: he being at the point of death, and having for
a long time lost the use of speech, exclaimed suddenly, in the
hearing of all who stood around: 'Wait for me, Father, wait for
me; I am coming with thee....'
"At the same time the Bishop of Assisi was making a devout
pilgrimage to the church of St. Michael, on Mount Gargano. To him
the Blessed Francis appeared on the very night of his departure,
saying: 'Behold I leave the world and go to Heaven.'"
In one fresco the artist has represented two different scenes, the
greater prominence being given to the dying friar surrounded by many
brethren. In neither is shown the figure of St. Francis, as the artist
probably thought that it would have been difficult to introduce the
apparition twice. But while the gesture of the friar stretching out
his arms and the arrangement of the others explain the story, it would
be difficult, without St. Bonaventure's legend, to know the feelings
of the bishop who is so calmly sleeping in the background.
22. _The Incredulous Knight of Assisi._
"... when the holy man had departed from this life, and his
sacred spirit had entered its eternal house ... many of the
citizens of Assisi were admitted to see and kiss the Sacred
Stigmata. Among these was a certain soldier, a learned and
prudent man, named Jerome, held in high estimation in the city,
who, doubting the miracle of the Sacred Stigmata, and being
incredulous like another Thomas, more boldly and eagerly than the
rest moved the nails in the presence of his fellow-citizens, and
touched with his own hands the hands and feet of the holy man;
and while he thus touched these palpable signs of the wounds of
Christ, his heart was healed and freed from every wound of
doubt."
This fresco is so much ruined that it is difficult to enjoy it as a
whole, but some of the figures of the young acolytes bearing lighted
torches, and the priests reading the service and sprinkling the body
with holy water, are very life-like.
23. _The Mourning of the Nuns of San Damiano._
"Passing by the church of St. Damian, where that noble virgin,
Clare, now glorious in heaven, abode with the virgins her
sisters, the holy body, adorned with celestial jewels [the marks
of the Stigmata], remained there awhile, till those holy virgins
could see and kiss them."
This, the loveliest of the last nine frescoes, recalls the one in St.
Nicholas' Chapel of the three prisoners imploring the saint's
protection; even to the basilica which forms the background of both.
Considering that it is the last farewell of St. Clare and her
companions to St. Francis the artist might have given a more tragic
touch to the scene, but all is made subservient to the rendering of
graceful figures, like the charming nuns who talk together as they
hasten out of San Damiano, whose humble facade of stone the artist has
transformed into a building of marble and mosaic almost rivalling the
glories of such cathedrals as Siena and Orvieto. St. Clare stoops to
kiss the saint while priests and citizens wait to resume their hymns
of praise, and a small child climbs up a tree and tears down branches
to strew upon the road in front of the bier.[100]
24. _The Canonisation of St. Francis._
"The Sovereign Pontiff, Gregory IX, ... determined with pious
counsel and holy consideration to pay to the holy man that
veneration and honour of which he knew him to be most worthy ...
and coming himself in person to the city of Assisi in the year of
our Lord's Incarnation, 1228, on Sunday the 6th of July, with
many ceremonies and great solemnity, he inscribed the Blessed
Father in the catalogue of the saints."
This fresco is so ruined that it is impossible to form any idea of its
composition; about the only object clearly to be seen is the
sepulchral urn of St. Francis, represented beneath an iron grating in
the church of San Giorgio.
25. _The Dream of Gregory IX, at Perugia._
"On a certain night, then, as the Pontiff was afterwards wont to
relate with many tears, the Blessed Francis appeared to him in a
dream, and with unwonted severity in his countenance, reproving
him for the doubt which lurked in his heart, raised his right
arm, discovered the wound, and commanded that a vessel should be
brought to receive the blood which issued from his side. The
Supreme Pontiff still in vision, brought him the vessel, which
seemed to be filled even to the brim with the blood which flowed
from his side."
We are here left with an impression that the artist was hampered by
not having enough figures for his composition, and the four men seated
on the ground and guarding the Pope, compare unfavourably with
Giotto's fresco of the three grand watchers by Innocent III, upon the
opposite wall.
16. _St. Francis cures the Wounded Man._
"It happened in the city of Ilerda, in Catalonia, that a good
man, named John, who was very devout to St. Francis, had to pass
through a street, in which certain men were lying in wait to kill
him and ... wounded him with so many dagger-strokes as to leave
him without hope of life.... The poor man's cure was considered
impossible by all the physicians.... And, behold, as the sufferer
lay alone on his bed, frequently calling on the name of Francis
... one stood by him in the habit of a Friar Minor, who, as it
seemed to him, came in by a window, and calling him by his name,
said, 'Because thou hast trusted in me, behold, the Lord will
deliver thee.'"
The artist having here an incident less difficult to deal with than
visions and dreams, betrays a certain humour in the stout figure of
the doctor, who, as he leaves the room, turns to the two women as
though saying, "He has begun to pray, as if that can help him when I
have failed to cure him." Meantime St. Francis, escorted by two tall
and graceful angels with great wings, is laying his hands upon the
wounded man. Here, as in most of these latter frescoes, a single scene
is divided into more than one episode; this seems to us to be the
great difference between them and the works of Giotto, where the eye
is immediately attracted towards the principal figure or figures, the
others only serving to complete the composition.
27. _The last Confession of the Woman of Benevento._
"... a certain woman who had a special devotion to St. Francis,
went the way of all flesh. Now, all the clergy being assembled
round the corpse to keep the accustomed vigils, and say the usual
psalms and prayers, suddenly that woman rose on her feet, in
presence of them all, on the bier where she lay, and calling to
her one of the priests ... 'Father,' she said, 'I wish to
confess. As soon as I was dead, I was sent to a dreadful dungeon,
because I had never confessed a certain sin which I will now make
known to you. But St. Francis, whom I have ever devoutly served,
having prayed for me, I have been suffered to return to the body,
that having revealed that sin, I may be made worthy of eternal
life.' ... She made her confession, therefore, trembling to the
priest, and having received absolution, quietly lay down on the
bier, and slept peacefully in the Lord."
The legend is dramatic and the artist has not failed to make us feel
the great sadness and solemnity of the scene. A moment more, and the
group of people to the left will come forward to carry the woman away
for burial while the relations weep most bitterly; they stand aside
with heads bowed in grief, for already the presence of death is felt.
Only the sorrow of the child, who stretches out his arms, has passed
away upon seeing her rise to speak with the priest. Very tall and
slender are the figures of the women, bending and swaying together
like flowers in a gentle breeze.
28. _St. Francis releases Peter of Alesia from Prison._
"When Pope Gregory IX, was sitting in the chair of St. Peter, a
certain man named Peter, of the city of Alesia, on an accusation
of heresy, was carried to Rome, and, by command of the same
Pontiff, was given in custody to the Bishop of Tivoli. He, having
been charged to keep him in safety ... bound him with heavy
chains and imprisoned him in a dark dungeon.... This man began to
call with many prayers and tears upon St. Francis ... beseeching
him to have mercy upon him.... About twilight on the vigil of his
feast, St. Francis mercifully appeared to him in prison, and,
calling him by his name, commanded him immediately to arise....
Then, by the power of the presence of the holy man, he beheld the
fetters fall broken from his feet, and the doors of the prison
were unlocked without anyone to open them, so that he could go
forth unbound and free."
Everything here gives the impression of height; the tall slim figures,
the high doorway, and the slender tower and arches. St. Francis is
seen flying up to the skies with the same swift motion the artist has
given to the figure of St. Nicholas in the Lower Church, and the
"Greek Chorus" to the left serves to show surprise at the unusual
occurrence of a prisoner suddenly emerging from his prison with broken
fetters in his hands.
* * * * *
None should leave the church without looking at the stalls in the
choir; they are by Domenico da San Severino, made in 1501, by order,
as an inscription tells us, of Francesco Sansone, General of the
franciscan order, and friend of Sixtus IV. The artist only took ten
years to execute this really wonderful work; the intarsia figures of
the stalls in pale yellow wood, most of them fancy portraits of the
companions of St. Francis, are remarkable for their form and
character. They betray, in the opinion of Mr Berenson, Venetian
influences of Crivelli and of the school of the Vivarini.
[Illustration: ARMS OF THE FRANCISCANS FROM THE INTARSIA OF THE
STALLS]
FOOTNOTES:
[95] St. Bonaventure was born in 1221 at Bagnora in Umbria, and became
General of the franciscan order. Dante, in canto xii. of the
_Paradiso_, leaves him to sing the praises of St. Dominic, just as the
dominican divine St. Thomas Aquinas had related the story of St.
Francis in the preceding canto.
[96] We have used Miss Lockhart's translation of St. Bonaventure's
_Legenda Santa Francisci_.
[97] J. Ruskin, _Mornings in Florence_, iii. Before the Soldan.
[98] xi. _Paradiso_, Cary's translation.
[99] Dante, _Paradiso_, xi., Cary's translation.
[100] A comparison may be made between the long and slender body of
the saint here with that in the death of St. Francis in Sta. Croce,
where the body is firmly drawn and of more massive proportions.