_St. Clare at San Damiano. The Church of Santa Chiara._
"Comme les fleurs, les ames ont leur parfum qui ne trompe
jamais."--P. SABATIER. _Vie de S. Francois d'Assise_.
The days of St. Clare from the age of eighteen until her death in 1253
were passed within the convent walls of San Damiano, and though
peaceful enough, for a mediaeval lady, they were full of events and
varied interest.
She was born on the 10th of July 1194 in Assisi of noble parents, her
father being Count Favorino Scifi (spelt also Scefi) the descendant of
an ancient Roman family who owned a large palace in the town, and a
castle on the slope of Mount Subasio to the east of the ravine where
the Carceri lie among the ilex woods. The castle gave the title of
Count of Sasso Rosso to its owners, and was the cause of much
skirmishing between the Scifi and the Ghislerio who were continually
wresting it from each other, until in 1300, during one of these
struggles, the walls were razed to the ground and no one sought
afterwards to repair its ruins. Of Sasso Rosso a few stones still
remain, which, as they catch the morning light, are seen from Assisi
like a grey crag projecting from the mountain, high above the road to
Spello. When not fighting beneath the walls of his castle Count
Favorino was generally away on some skirmishing expedition, and during
his absences, his wife, the Lady Ortolana of the noble family of the
Fiumi, would depart upon a pilgrimage to the south of Italy or even to
the Holy Land.[101] An old writer remarks that her name "Ortolana
(market gardener) was very appropriate, because from her, as from a
well-tended orchard, sprang most noble plants." After her return from
Palestine she one night heard a voice speaking these prophetic words
to which she listened with great awe. "Be not afraid Ortolana, for
from thee shall arise a light so bright and clear that the darkness of
the earth shall be illuminated thereby." So the daughter who was born
soon after was called Chiara in memory of the divine message. With so
pious a mother it is not surprising that Clare should have grown up
thoughtful and fond of praying; we even hear of her seeking solitary
corners in the palace where she would be found saying her rosary,
using pebbles like the hermits of old instead of beads upon a chain.
But her evident inclination for a religious life in no way alarmed
Count Favorino, who had made up his mind that she should marry a
wealthy young Assisan noble, for even at an early age she showed great
promise of beauty. "Her face was oval," says a chronicler, "her
forehead spacious, her complexion brilliant, and her eyebrows and hair
very fair. A celestial smile played in her eyes and around her mouth;
her nose was well-proportioned and slightly aquiline; of good stature
she was rather inclined to stoutness, but not to excess." A little
while and her fate in life would have been sealed in the ordinary way,
and she would have continued to look out upon the world through the
barred windows of some old Assisan palace; but great changes were
being wrought in the town even when Clare had just passed into
girlhood. With the rest of her fellow-citizens, rich and poor, she was
destined to feel the potent influence of one who suddenly appeared in
their midst like an inspired prophet of old, calling on all to repent,
and picturing higher ideals in life than any had hitherto dreamed of.
Although her first meeting with St. Francis has not been recorded by
any early biographer, we may be sure that from the age of fourteen,
and perhaps even before, the story of his doings had been familiar to
her, for the stir his conversion made among the people, his quarrels
with his father, and the many followers he gained, even among the
nobles, were of too extraordinary a nature to pass without comment in
the family of the Scifi.[102] Their palace being near the Porta Nuova
it is certain that Clare and her younger sister Agnes must have often
seen St. Francis pass on his way to San Damiano, carrying the bricks
which he had begged from door to door to repair its crumbling walls,
and heard him scoffed at by the children and cursed by his angry
father. As his fame as a preacher grew the Scifi family hurried with
the rest to listen to his sermons in the cathedral, or perhaps even in
the market-place, where he would stand upon the steps of the old
temple and gather the peasants around him on a market day. But the
decisive time arrived in the year 1212, when St. Francis, by then the
acknowledged founder of a new order sanctioned by the Pope, and no
longer jeered at as a mad enthusiast, came to preach during Lent in
the church of San Giorgio. It was the parish church of the Scifi, and
the whole family attended every service. Clare was then eighteen,
young enough to be carried away by the words of the franciscan and
build for herself a life outside her present existence; old enough to
have felt unbearable the trammels of a degraded age, and to long,
during those years of warfare to which all the cities of the valley
were subjected, for an escape to where peace and purity could be
found. Only dimly she saw her way to a perfect love of Christ. The
preacher's words were addressed to all, but she felt them as an
especial call to herself, and unhesitatingly she resolved to seek out
the friar at the Portiuncula and ask his help and counsel in what was
no easy task. Instinctively knowing her mother could be of no aid,
even if she sympathised in her cravings for a more spiritual life, she
gained the confidence of her aunt, Bianca Guelfucci, who all through
played her part regardless of Count Favorino's possible revenge.
Even during the first two years of his mission St. Francis was
accustomed to receive many men who wished to leave home and comforts,
and tramp along the country roads with him, but when the young Chiara
Scifi threw herself at his feet imploring him to help her to enter
upon a new way of life, his heart was troubled, and, reflecting on
what wide results his preaching was taking, fear even may have formed
part of his surprise. Bernard of Quintavalle he had bidden sell all
that he had, distribute it to the poor, and join him at the leper
houses; but before allowing Clare to take the veil he sought to prove
her vocation beyond a doubt, and bade her go from door to door through
the town begging her bread, clad in rough sack-cloth with a hood drawn
about her face. Her piety only increased until St. Francis, believing
that he was called upon to help her, resolved to act the part of the
spiritual knight errant.
[Illustration: DOOR THROUGH WHICH ST. CLARE LEFT THE PALAZZO SCIFI]
On Palm Sunday, arrayed in their richest clothes, the members of the
Scifi and the Fiumi families attended high mass in the cathedral, and
with the rest of the citizens went up to receive the branches of
palms. But to the astonishment of all Clare remained kneeling as if
wrapt in a dream, and in vain the bishop waited for her to follow the
procession to the altar. All eyes were upon her as the bishop, with
paternal tenderness, came down from the altar steps to where the young
girl knelt and placed the palm in her hand. That night Clare left her
father's house for ever. A small door in the Scifi palace is still
shown through which she is said to have escaped. It had been walled up
for some time, but the fragile girl gifted that night with superhuman
strength and courage, tore down timber and stones and joined Bianca
Guelfucci, who was waiting with some trembling maidservants where the
arch spans the street, to accompany her to the Portiuncula (see p.
104). Great was the consternation in the family when next morning her
flight was discovered, and news came that she had found shelter in the
benedictine convent near Bastia. Count Favorino and his wife lost no
time in following her, fully persuaded that by threats or entreaties
they would be able to induce her to return home and marry the man of
her father's choice; but they knew little of the strength of character
which lay hidden beneath the gentle nature of the eldest and hitherto
most docile of their daughters. The violent words of her father and
the tears of her mother in no way shook Clare's determination;
approaching the altar she placed one hand upon it while with the other
she raised her veil, and facing her parents showed them the close cut
hair which marked her as the bride of Jesus Christ. No earthly power,
she said, should sever her from the life she had chosen of her own
free will, and crest-fallen they left the convent without another
word. It was hardly surprising that Agnes, the second sister, who
sometimes went to see St. Clare at Bastia, should wish to take the
veil. At this the fury of Count Favorino knew no bounds, and he sent
his brother Monaldo with several armed followers, among whom may have
been Clare's slighted lover, to force Agnes, if persuasion failed, to
abandon her vocation. She was at their mercy but refused to leave the
convent, so they caught her by her long fair hair and dragged her
across the fields towards the town, kicking her as they went; her
cries filled the air, "Clare, my sister, help, so that I may not be
taken from my heavenly spouse." The prayers of Clare were heard, for
suddenly the slight form of the girl became as lead in the arms of the
soldiers, and in vain they tried to lift her. Monaldo, beside himself
with rage, drew his sword to strike her when his arm dropt withered
and useless by his side. Clare, who had by this time come upon the
scene, begged them to desist from their cruel acts, and cowed by what
had happened they slunk away, leaving the sisters to return to the
convent.
St. Francis seeing the devotion and steady vocation of both Clare and
Agnes, and doubtless foreseeing that many would follow their example,
began to seek for some shelter where they could lead a life of prayer
and labour. Again the Benedictines of Mount Subasio came forward with
a gift, offering another humble sanctuary which the saint had repaired
some years before. This was San Damiano, a chapel so old that none
could tell its origin; the vague legend that it stands on the site of
a pagan necropolis seems confirmed by a lofty fragment of Roman
masonry which juts up on the roadside between the Porta Nuova and San
Damiano. With his own hands St. Francis built a few rude cells near
the chapel, resembling the cluster of huts by the Portiuncula, and
here the "Poor Ladies" were to pass their days in prayer and manual
labour. The little humble grey stone building among the olive trees
with the pomgranates flowering against its walls, so different to a
convent of the present day, must have seemed to Clare the realisation
of a freer life than ever she had known before. Others felt its charm
and before long several friends had joined her besides Bianca
Guelfucci, while upon the death of Count Favorino, Madonna Ortolana
received the habit from the hands of St. Francis together with her
youngest daughter Beatrice. The fame of the order spread far and wide,
gaining so many novices that several new houses were founded in Italy
even during the first few years. In those early days St. Clare was
given no written law to follow, but like the brethren she and her nuns
learnt all the perfection of a religious life from St. Francis, who
would often stop at San Damiano on his way to and from the town. He
did not allow them to go beyond their boundaries, but a busy life was
to be passed in their cells; owning nothing, they were to depend
entirely upon what the brothers could beg for them in the town and
country round, and when provisions were scarce they fasted. In return
the nuns spun the grey stuff for the habits of the friars and the
linen for their altars; and after St. Francis received the Stigmata,
St. Clare fashioned sandals for him with space for the nails so that
he might walk with more ease. Often the poor came to seek help at her
hands, and many times the sick were tended in a little mud hut near
her cell which she used as a hospital. Silently her life was passed,
and to those who looked on from the outside perhaps it might have
seemed of small avail compared with the very apparent results of St.
Francis' endeavours to help his fellow creatures. But very quietly she
was guiding the women of mediaeval Italy towards higher aims, for even
those who could not follow her into the cloister were aided in their
lives at home by the thought of the pure-souled gentle nun of San
Damiano. Not the least important part of her work was the womanly
sympathy and help which she gave to St. Francis. He turned to her when
in trouble, and it was she who encouraged him to continue preaching to
the people when, at one time he thought that his vocation was to be a
life of solitary prayer and not of constant contact with mankind. He
counted on her prayers, and trusting in her counsel went forward once
more to preach the words of redemption. From her lonely cell she
watched his work with tender solicitude, and when blind and ill he
came for the last time to San Damiano she tended to his wants in a
little hut she erected for him not far from the convent whence, across
the vineyard and olive grove which separated them, the first strains
of his glorious Canticle to the Sun came to her one morning. Her
gentle influence played an important part in his life, giving him a
friendship which is one of the most beautiful things to dwell on in
their lives. Some have sneered at its purity, and compared so ideal a
connection to a commonplace mediaeval tale of monk and nun; but it is
degrading even to hint at such an ending to the love of these two for
each other, and impossible to believe it after reading M. Sabatier's
beautiful chapter on St. Clare, where he touches, in some of his most
charming pages, upon a side of St. Francis' character that most
biographers have but little understood.
A beautiful story in the _Fioretti_ relates how once St. Clare,
desiring greatly to eat with St. Francis, a boon he had never accorded
her, was granted the request at the earnest prayer of the brethren,
"and that she may be the more consoled," he said, "I will that this
breaking of bread take place in St. Mary of the Angels; for she has
been so long shut up in S. Damian that it will rejoice her to see
again the House of Mary, where her hair was shorn off, and she became
the bride of Christ." Once more St. Clare came to the plain of the
Portiuncula, and the saint spoke so sweetly and eloquently of heavenly
things that all remained wrapped in ecstacy, oblivious of the food
which was spread before them on the floor and, as Clare dwelt in
divine contemplation, a great flame sprang up and shrouded them in
celestial light. The Assisans and the people of Bettona, looking down
from their walls upon the plain, thought that the Portiuncula was on
fire, and hurried to the assistance of their beloved saint. "But
coming close to the House," says the _Fioretti_, "they entered within,
and found St. Francis and St. Clare with all their company in
contemplation wrapt in God as they sat round the humble board."
Comforted by this spiritual feast St. Clare returned to San Damiano,
where she was expected with great anxiety, as it had been imagined
that St. Francis might have sent her to rule some other convent,
"wherefore the sisters rejoiced exceedingly when they saw her face
again." Those were peaceful and happy days, but sorrow came when news
reached her that St. Francis was near his end; "she wept most
bitterly, and refused to be comforted," for she too was ill, and
feared to die before she could see his face again. This fear she
signified through a brother unto the Blessed Francis, and when the
saint, who loved her with a singular and paternal affection, heard it,
he had pity on her; and considering that her desire to see him once
more could not be fulfilled in the future, he sent her a letter with
his benediction and absolving her from every fault.... "Go and tell
sister Clare to lay aside all sadness and sorrow, for now she cannot
see me, but of a truth before her death both she and her sisters shall
see me and be greatly comforted." But the last she saw of him was
through a lattice window, when they brought his dead body for the nuns
to see and kiss the pierced hands and feet (see p. 119).
* * * * *
[Illustration: SAN DAMIANO, SHOWING THE WINDOW WITH THE LEDGE WHENCE
ST. CLARE ROUTED THE SARACENS]
A strange thing happened to disturb the peaceful serenity of their
lives at San Damiano in the year 1234, when the army of Frederic II,
was fighting in the north of Italy, and a detachment of Saracen troops
under one of his generals, Vitale d'Anversa, came through Umbria,
pillaging the country as they passed. Assisi was a desirable prey, as
it had been to many before them, and coming to the convent of San
Damiano they scaled its walls, preparatory to a final rush upon the
town. The terror of the nuns may be imagined, and running to the cell
where Clare lay ill in bed they cowered round her "like frightened
doves when the hawk has stooped upon their dovecote." Taking the
Blessed Sacrament, which she was allowed to keep in a little chapel
next to her cell, she proceeded to face the whole army, trusting like
St. Martin in the power of prayer and personal courage. As she walked
towards the window overlooking the small courtyard a voice spoke to
her from the ciborium saying, "Assisi will have much to suffer, but my
arm shall defend her." Raising the Blessed Sacrament on high she stood
at the open window, against which the soldiers had already placed a
ladder; those who were ascending, as they looked up towards her, fell
back blinded, while the others took to flight, and thus cloister and
city were saved through the intercession of the gentle saint. Vitale
d'Anversa, who had not been present at the prodigy, probably thinking
the soldiers had failed in their enterprise through lack of valour,
came with a still larger company of men, and led them in person to
storm the town. St. Clare, hearing what peril encompassed Assisi, and
being asked by the citizens to intercede with Heaven as the enemy had
sworn to bury them beneath their city walls, gathered all her nuns
about her, and knelt in prayer with them. At dawn the next morning a
furious tempest arose, scattering the tents of the Saracens in every
direction, and causing such a panic that they took refuge in hasty
flight. The gratitude of the citizens increased their love for St.
Clare, as all attributed their release to her prayers, and to this day
she is regarded as the deliverer of her country.
One cannot help regretting that while so many contemporary chroniclers
have left detailed and varied accounts of St. Francis, they only
casually allude to St. Clare, calling her "a sweet spring blossom," or
"the chief rival of the Blessed Francis in the observance of Gospel
perfection," but leaving later writers to form their own pictures of
the saint. And the picture they give is always of a silent and
prayerful nun, beautiful of feature, sweet and gentle of disposition,
coming ever to the help of those who needed it, and acting the part of
a guardian angel to the Assisans. Her horizon was bounded by the
mountains of the Spoletan valley; and from the outside world, on which
her influence worked so surely during her life and for long centuries
after her death, only faint echoes reached her when a pope or a
cardinal came to see her, or a princess wrote her a letter from some
distant country. Among the many royal and noble people who had entered
a Poor Clare sisterhood, or like St. Elizabeth of Hungary had joined
the Third Order, was the Blessed Agnes, daughter of the King of
Bohemia, who, kindled with a desire for a religious life upon hearing
the story of St. Clare, refused the hand of Frederick II, and passed
her life in a convent. Often she wrote to the Assisan abbess getting
in reply most charming letters, beginning "To her who is dearer to me
than any other mortal," or "To the daughter of the King of Kings, to
the Queen of Virgins, to the worthy spouse of Jesus Christ; the
unworthy servant of the poor nuns of San Damiano sends greetings and
rejoicings in the good fortune of living always in the extremest
poverty." These two never met, but their friendship was a close one,
and their correspondence, of which many letters are preserved, ceased
only with their death.
St. Clare survived St. Francis twenty-seven years, and they were sad
years for one, who, like her clung so devoutly to his rule and
teaching. She lived to see the first divisions among the franciscans,
and before she died the corner-stone of the great Basilica had been
raised, filling her with dismay for the future, for in its very
grandeur and beauty she saw the downfall of the franciscan ideal. Not
only did she witness all these changes, but in her own convent she had
many battles to fight for the preservation of the rule she loved, she
even courageously opposed the commands of the Pope himself who wished
to mould the nuns to his wishes as he had done the friars. Even during
the lifetime of St. Francis, while he was absent on a distant
pilgrimage, Gregory IX, then Cardinal Ugolino, persuaded St. Clare of
the necessity of having a written rule, and gave her that of the
Benedictine nuns. But when she found that, although it was strict
enough, it allowed the holding of property in community, which was
entirely against the spirit of her order, she refused to agree to the
innovation. So upon the saint's return he composed a written rule for
the sisters, so strict, it is said, that its perusal drew tears from
the eyes of the Cardinal Ugolino. Still she had to fight the battle of
loyalty to a dead saint's memory; for the very year that Gregory came
to Assisi for the canonisation of St. Francis he paid a visit to St.
Clare, and with earnest words endeavoured to persuade her to mitigate
her rule. She held so firmly to her way that the Pope thought she
might perhaps be thinking of the vow of poverty which she had made at
the Portiuncula, and told her he could absolve her from it through the
powers of his papal keys. Then Clare summoned all her courage as she
faced the Pontiff, and said to him these simple words which showed
him he need try no more to tempt her from duty, "Ah holy father," she
cried, "I crave for the absolution of my sins, but I desire not to be
absolved from following Jesus Christ."
Gregory had often been puzzled by the unique unworldliness of St.
Francis; his admiration for St. Clare was even more profound, and in
reading his letters after leaving the franciscan abbess one forgets
that he was over eighty at the time. With him she had gained her point
once and for all, but upon his death she had to oppose the wishes of
Innocent IV, who did all in his power to merge the franciscan order of
Poor Clares into an ordinary Benedictine community. Again it ended in
the triumph of St. Clare, and the day before her death she had the joy
of receiving the news that the Pope had issued a papal bull
sanctioning the rule for which both St. Francis and she had fought;
namely, that they were to live absolutely poor without any worldly
possession of any kind. "N'est-ce pas," says M. Sabatier, "un des plus
beaux tableaux de l'histoire religieuse, que celui de cette femme qui,
pendant plus d'un quart de siecle, soutient contre les papes qui se
succedent sur le trone pontifical une lutte de tous les instants; qui
demeure egalement respectueuse et inebranlable, et ne consent a mourir
qu'apres avoir remporte la victoire?"
St. Clare during the remaining years of her life suffered continually
from ill-health, and it was from a bed of infirmity that she so
ardently prayed the Pope to sanction her rule of poverty, and enjoined
the sisterhood to keep its tenets faithfully. Like St. Francis, brave
and cheerful to the last, she called her weeping companions around her
to give them her final blessing and farewell. Among them knelt the
Blessed Agnes, who had come from her nunnery in Florence to assist her
sister, and the three holy brethren Leo, Angelo and Juniper. On the
11th of August 1253, the feast of St. Rufino, as she was preparing to
leave the world they heard her speak, but so softly that the words
were lost to them. "Mother, with whom are you conversing?" asked one
of the nuns, and she answered: "Sister, I am speaking with this little
soul of mine, now blessed, to whom the glory of paradise is already
opening."
Then as the evening closed in and they were still watching, a great
light was seen to fill the doorway leading from the oratory of St.
Clare to her cell; and from out of it came a long procession of
white-robed virgins led by the Queen of Heaven, whose head was crowned
with a diadem of shining gold, and whose eyes sent forth such
splendour as might have changed the night into the brightest day. And
as each of the celestial visitors stooped to kiss St. Clare, the
watching nuns knew that her soul had already reached its home.
* * * * *
Once the little chapel of San Damiano has been seen there can be no
fear of ever forgetting the charm attached to the memory of St. Clare,
for she has left there something of her own character and personality,
which we feel instinctively without being able quite to explain its
presence. So near the town, only just outside its walls, this little
sanctuary yet remains as in the olden times, one of the most peaceful
spots that could have been chosen for a nunnery; but the silence which
falls upon one while resting on the stone seats before entering the
courtyard, has this difference with the silence of such a piazza as
that of San Rufino or of some of the Assisan streets; that there the
buildings tell of an age which is dead whose memories raise no
responsive echoes in our hearts, whereas San Damiano is filled with
the associations of those who, living so long ago, yet have left the
atmosphere of their presence as a living influence among us. As we
look at the steep paths below us leading through the fields and the
oak trees down to the plain, to Rivo-Torto and the Portiuncula, we
think how often St. Francis went up and down it whenever he passed to
see St. Clare and her sisters. And how many times did Brother Bernard
come with messages when he lay dying, and news was anxiously awaited
at San Damiano; then along the grass path skirting the hill from Porta
Mojano were seen the crowds of nobles, townsfolk, peasants and friars
bearing the dead body of the saint to San Giorgio, and pausing awhile
at the convent for the love of St. Clare. A pope with all his
cardinals next passes, on a visit to the young abbess; St. Bonaventure
stops to ask her prayers; while the poor and the ill were ever
knocking at the convent door to obtain her help or a word of kindly
sympathy. In the Umbrian land it is so easy to realise these things,
they are more than simply memories for those who have time to pause
and dream awhile; and sometimes it has seemed, while reading the
_Fioretti_ or Brother Leo's chronicle beneath the olive trees of San
Damiano, that we have slipped back through the ages, and looking up we
half expect to see the hurrying figure of St. Francis moving quickly
in and out among the trees. Suddenly the low sound of chanting comes
through the open door of the convent reaching us like the incessant
drone of a swarm of bees in the sunshine, until it dies away, and
brown-clothed, sandalled brethren pass out across the courtyard, and
two by two disappear down the hill on their way to the Portiuncula.
They bring a whole gallery of portraits before our eyes, of brethren
we read of, the companions of St. Francis; but when we look along the
path they have taken and see the church of the Angeli standing high in
the midst of the broad valley, its dome showing dark purple against
the afternoon light, where we had thought to catch a glimpse of the
Portiuncula and a circle of mud huts, the dream of the olden time
fades suddenly away. As we turn to enter the little church of San
Damiano with the image of the great church of the plain still in our
thoughts, we feel how much we owe to the reverence of the people and
the friars who have kept it so simple and unadorned, its big stones
left rough and weather-beaten as when St. Francis came to prepare a
dwelling-house for sister Clare. Truly says M. Sabatier, "ce petit
coin de terre ombrienne sera, pour nos descendants, comme ce puits de
Jacob ou Jesus s'assit un instant, un des parvis preferes du culte en
esprit et en verite."
The church is very small and dim, with no frescoed walls or altar
pictures to arouse the visitor's interest, and only its connection
with the names of Francis and Clare bring the crowds who come to pray
here. Even the crucifix which spoke to St. Francis, telling him to
rebuild the ruined sanctuary, no longer hangs in the choir, but is now
in the keeping of the nuns in Santa Chiara. A few relics are kept in
the cupboard--a pectoral cross given by St. Bonaventure, the bell with
which St. Clare called the sisters to office, her breviary written by
Brother Leo in his neat, small writing, and the tabernacle of
alabaster which she held up before the invading host of Saracens upon
that memorable occasion. There is also a small loaf of bread which
recalls the well-known story recounted in the _Fioretti_ (cap.
xxxiii.) of how Pope Innocent IV, came to see St. Clare, "to hear her
speak of things celestial and divine; and as they were thus
discoursing together on diverse matters, St. Clare ordered dinner to
be made ready, and the bread to be laid on the table so that the Holy
Father might bless it; and when their spiritual conference was
finished, St. Clare, kneeling most reverently, prayed him to bless the
bread which was on the table. The Holy Father replied: 'Most faithful
Sister Clare, I will that thou shouldst bless this bread and make upon
it the sign of the most blessed Cross of Christ, to whom thou hast so
entirely given thyself.' St. Clare said: 'Holy Father, pardon me, for
I should be guilty of too great a presumption if in the presence of
the Vicar of Christ, I, who am but a miserable woman, should presume
to give such a benediction.' And the Pope answered: 'That this should
not be ascribed to presumption, but to the merit of obedience, I
command thee by holy obedience to make the sign of the Holy Cross on
this bread, and to bless it in the name of God.' Then St. Clare, as a
true daughter of obedience, most devoutly blessed that bread with the
sign of the Holy Cross. And marvellous to say, incontinently on all
the loaves the sign of the Holy Cross appeared most fairly impressed;
then of that bread part was eaten and part kept for the miracle's
sake."
A ring belonging to St. Clare was also kept here, until in the year
1615 a Spanish franciscan vicar-general with his secretary came to
visit San Damiano, and such was his devotion for anything that had
belonged to the saintly abbess that when a few months later the relics
were being shown to some other visitors, the precious ring was
missing. A great disturbance arose in the city, and angry letters were
speedily sent after the Spanish priest as suspicion had fallen upon
him at once; he did not deny that he had piously stolen the ring, but
as it was now well upon its way to Spain where, he assured the irate
Assisans, it would be much honoured and well cared for, he refused to
return it. The citizens and friars still regret the day that the
Spanish dignitary and his secretary called at San Damiano.
The small chapel out of the nave was built in the middle of the
seventeenth century to contain the large Crucifix which is still
there, and whose story is very famous. In 1634 Brother Innocenzo of
Palermo was sent to the convent to carve a crucifix for the friars,
his sanctity and the talent he possessed as an artist being well
known. After nine days he completed all except the head, and on
returning next morning after early mass he found that mysterious hands
had fashioned it during the night; not only was it of wonderful
workmanship, but looking at it from three different points of view
three different expressions were seen--of peace, of agony, and of
death. The fame of the Crucifix spread throughout Umbria, and people
flocked to San Damiano. "Now, the devil," says a chronicler, "very
wrath to see such devotion in so many hearts, turned his mind to
finding out some means of sowing seeds of discord. Through his doing
there arose in Assisi a whisper that owing to the rapidly growing fame
of this Crucifix, the ancient one of the cathedral would lose the
veneration in which it had hitherto been held."
Now before placing the Crucifix of San Damiano in its place over the
high altar the monks settled that it should be carried in solemn
procession through Assisi. "But," writes the angry chronicler, "those
who had joined this diabolical conspiracy against our Crucifix were
not slow to prevent this, and had recourse to the Inquisitor of
Perugia, who was induced to send his vicar to stop the procession, and
bid the monks of San Damiano to keep their Crucifix hidden and allow
no one to see it." There arose a terrible storm in the troubled
community of Assisi, between those who took the part of the
"persecuted Crucifix" and those who sided with the jealous canons of
the cathedral. Finally, the case was placed before the Pope himself,
and all waited anxiously the result of his investigations. A duplicate
of the Crucifix of San Damiano was sent to Rome that it might be well
examined by the Pope and the whole college of cardinals, and they not
finding in the pious Brother Innocenzio's work anything contrary to
the teaching of the gospel, it was unanimously decreed that the
Crucifix of San Damiano might receive all the homage and love of the
friars and citizens. So on a burning Sunday in August solemn high mass
was sung at the altar of St. Clare in San Damiano and, although the
friars were defrauded of their procession, such was the concourse of
people who came to gain the plenary indulgence granted by His Holiness
that the good friars rejoiced, and were comforted for all the
persecution they had suffered on account of this marvellous Crucifix.
What must have been the feelings of Brother Innocenzo as he stood by
the high altar and watched the crowd of worshippers and the women
lifting up their streaming eyes to the crucifix he had fashioned in
his cell? The devotion to it grew as the years passed on, and we read
that a century later the monks were obliged "for their greater quiet
to transfer it from the choir to the chapel," where it now is, after
which the monks could say their office in peace. Now we see it
surrounded with votive offerings, and our guide pours forth an
incessant stream of praise, and recounts at length numberless
miracles.
Through the chapel of the Crucifix we reach the choir of St. Clare,
left as when she used it, with the old worm-eaten stalls against the
wall. It is probable that originally this was part of the house of the
priest who had the keeping of San Damiano before the benedictines gave
it to the Poor Clares; for here is shown the recess in the wall where
St. Francis hid when his father came to seek for him, and where he is
supposed to have lived in hiding for a whole month until the storm
should have blown over. It was for the rebuilding of the chapel that
he had taken bales of costly stuffs from the Bernardone warehouse in
Assisi to sell at the fair of Foligno, and thus called forth the wrath
of Messer Pietro. The good priest of San Damiano was so much
astonished at this sudden conversion of Francis, that thinking he
mocked him he refused to accept the purse of gold, which Francis
finally threw on to a dusty window-sill. But the priest soon became
his friend, allowing him to remain at San Damiano and partake of such
humble fare as he could give, joining him in repairing of the poor
ruined chapel.
An artist of the sixteenth century had sought to adorn the altar with
a fresco of the Crucifixion which was only discovered a few months
ago, but the whitewashed walls and severe simplicity of the rest seem
more in keeping with the place than this crude attempt at decoration.
By a rough flight of stairs we reach the small private oratory of St.
Clare, which communicated with her cell and where, in her latter days
of illness, she was permitted to keep the Blessed Sacrament. The rest
of the convent being strict "clausura," ever since the Marquess of
Ripon bought San Damiano from the Italian Government and gave it into
the keeping of the franciscan friars, can only be seen by men. Within
is the refectory of St. Clare where Innocent IV, dined with her and
witnessed the miracle of the loaves, and Eusebio di San Giorgio (1507)
has painted in the cloister two fine frescoes of the Annunciation and
St. Francis receiving the Stigmata.
But anyone may step out into the small and charming garden of St.
Clare which is on a level with her oratory. Walls rising on either
side leave only a narrow vista of the valley where Bevagna, and
Montefalco on her hill, can just be seen. Within this small enclosed
space the saint is said to have taken her daily exercise and carefully
attended to the flowers, and the friars to this day keep a row of
flowers there in memory of her. It will be well on leaving the chapel
of San Damiano to look at the open chapel in the courtyard where
Tiberio d'Assisi has painted one of his most pleasing compositions.
The Madonna is seated in an Umbrian valley, low lines of hills fade
away in the distance, and franciscan saints, among whom St. Jerome
with his lion seems curiously out of place, surround her, while at her
feet is placed the kneeling figure of the nun who succeeded St. Clare
as abbess. It is signed and dated 1517, while the fresco on the
side-wall of St. Sebastian and St. Roch was painted five years later.
In another corner of the courtyard, near the entrance, is a painting
in a niche of the Madonna and saints by some Umbrian artist who felt
the influence of both Giotto and Simone Martini, so that we have a
curious, if pleasing result.
SANTA CHIARA
St. Clare was no sooner dead than the people, as they had done with
St. Francis, sought to honour her memory, but in this case, Innocent
IV, being in Assisi for the consecration of the Franciscan Basilica,
the funeral service was conducted by the Pope and cardinals. Such a
gathering of church dignitaries, Assisan nobles, priors and people had
certainly never been seen in the humble convent of San Damiano; their
presence, though honouring the saint, filled the hearts of the nuns
with sorrow for they knew they had come to take the body of St. Clare
to Assisi. With tears they consented to its being placed in safety in
San Giorgio, but only on the condition that they might eventually be
allowed to live near her tomb in some humble shelter. San Damiano
without her, alive or dead, meant little to them, and they were ready
to abandon a home of so many memories to go where they and their
successors could guard her body to the end of time. Devotion to her
memory and belief in her sanctity was not solely confined to them;
when the friars rose to intone the service of the dead, Pope Innocent
signified that there should be silence, and to the wonder of all
ordered high mass to be sung and the funeral service to be changed
into one of triumph, in honour of her who he believed was already with
the Virgins in heaven. It was a kind of canonisation, but could not be
regarded as valid without the usual preliminaries being performed, and
the cardinals, more cautious and less enthusiastic than His Holiness,
persuaded him to wait and in the meanwhile allow the ordinary service
to proceed. To this he consented, and then amidst music and singing
the Pope led the people up the hill where years before another saint
had been borne to the same church of San Giorgio, and as on that day a
funeral ceremony became a triumphal procession.
Innocent IV, died soon after, and it was Alexander IV, who in
September 1255, two years after her death, canonized St. Clare in a
Bull replete with magnificent eulogy in which there is a constant play
upon her name: "Clara claris praeclara meritis, magnae in coelo
claritate gloriae, ac in terra miraculorum sublimum clare gaudet ... O
admiranda Clarae beatae claritas." Another two years were allowed to
elapse before they began to erect a building to her memory; besides
the readiness shown by every town to honour their saints, the Assisans
had especial cause to remember St. Clare, as she had twice saved them
from the Saracen army of Frederic II. Willingly the magistrates and
nobles, besides many strangers who had heard of the saint's renown,
contributed money for the new building, and Fra Filippo Campello the
minorite was chosen as the architect. Fine as his new work proved to
be it was rather the copy of a masterpiece than the inspiration of a
great architect, which makes it more probable that he was only
employed in completing the church of San Francesco from the designs of
that first mysterious architect, and not, as some have said, its sole
builder.
The canons of San Rufino offered the church and hospital of San
Giorgio which belonged to them. A more fitting site for the church to
be raised in honour of St. Clare could not have been chosen, for it
was here that St. Francis had learnt to read and write as a child
under the guidance of the parish priest; here he preached his first
sermon, and later touched the heart of Clare by his words during the
lenten services; and here both of them were laid in their stone urns
until their last resting places were ready. So around the little old
parish church with its many memories, and within sight of the Scifi
palace, arose "as if by magic" the new temple with its tall and
slender campanile. The hospital enlarged and improved became the
convent, and the church was used by the nuns as a choir, the rest of
the large building, which they could only see through iron gratings,
being for the use of the congregation. With its alternate layers of
pink and cream-coloured stone, wheel window and finely modelled door,
the church fits well into its sunny piazza, and is a beautiful ending
to the eastern side of Assisi. But in building it Fra Filippo forgot
the crumbling nature of the soil, and failed to overcome the
difficulty of position as had been done so admirably at San Francesco,
so that in 1351 it became necessary to prop up the sides by strong
flying buttresses, which, while serving as an imposing arched entrance
to the side of the church, sadly detract from the feeling of solidity
of the main building. A darker stone with no rosy tints was used for
the convent, which makes it look very grim and old as it rises out of
a soft and silvery setting of olive trees on the hillside, with
orchards near of peaches and almonds. There is a great charm in the
brown, weather-beaten convent, though a certain sadness when we
remember, in looking at its tiny windows like holes in the wall
through which only narrow vistas of the beautiful valley can be seen,
how changed must be the lives of these cloistered nuns from those of
the Poor Ladies of San Damiano in the time of St. Clare. They are now
an order of the orthodox type, an order given to prayer and not to
labour, and seeing no human face from the outside world except through
an iron grating. So early as 1267 their connection with the franciscan
brotherhood ceased; the brethren no longer heard their confessions or
begged for them through the land as St. Francis had decreed; they
lived under the patronage of the Pope, who declared their convent to
be under the especial jurisdiction of the Holy See, and on the feast
of St. Francis called upon the nuns to send a pound of wax candles in
sign of tribute. As the Pope had often in olden times become master of
Assisi so now he obtained the rule over her monastic institutions,
gaining the temporal allegiance of the religious, as he had gained
that of the citizens.
[Illustration: SANTA CHIARA]
Upon entering the church of Santa Chiara out of the sunshine, we are
struck with a sense of the coldness of its scant ornamentation, a want
of colour, and a general idea that artists in first directing their
steps to San Francesco had not had time to give much thought to the
church of the gentle saint. Giottino is said by Vasari to have painted
frescoes here, and they may be those ruined bits of colour in the
right transept where it is only possible to distinguish a few heads or
parts of figures here and there in what seems to be a procession,
perhaps the Translation of St. Clare from San Damiano to San Giorgio.
It is said that their present condition of ruin is due to the German
bishop Spader who, fearing that the nuns might see too much of the
world through the narrow grating because of the number of people who
came to see the frescoes, had them whitewashed in the seventeenth
century. The people came less, the nuns were safer, but Giottino's (?)
frescoes are lost to us and we do not bless the memory of the German
bishop of Assisi. The frescoes of the ceiling he did not touch, and
we have in them some interesting work of an artist of the fourteenth
century whose name is unknown, but who undoubtedly followed the
Giottesque traditions, though not with the fidelity or the genius of
the artist who painted the legend of St. Nicholas in San Francesco. In
decorating the four spandrels he has been influenced by the allegories
of Giotto, and the angels are grouped round the principal figures in
much the same manner; they kneel, some with hands crossed upon their
breasts, but they are silent worshippers with not a single instrument
among them. The saints who stand in the midst of the angels in Gothic
tabernacles are the Madonna with a charming Infant Jesus who grasps
her mantle, and St. Clare; St. Cecilia crowned with roses, and St.
Lucy; St. Agnes holding a lamb, and St. Rose of Viterbo; St.
Catherine, and St. Margaret with a book in her hand. The artist has
used such soft harmonious colours and bordered his frescoes with such
pretty medallions of saints' heads and designs of foliage that one
wishes he had been given the whole church to decorate and thus saved
it from its present desolate appearance.
The large crucifix behind the altar, a characteristic work of that
time, has been ascribed to Margaritone, Giunta Pisano, or Cimabue. It
was painted, as the inscription says, by the order of the abbess
Benedicta, who succeeded St. Clare and was the first to rule in the
new convent, but the artist did not sign his name. The chapel of St.
Agnes contains a Madonna which Herr Thode with far-seeing eyes
recognises through all its layers of modern paint as Cimabue's work.
There is also a much retouched, but rather charming picture of St.
Clare, painted according to its inscription in 1283. She stands in her
heavy brown dress and mantle, a thick cord round her waist, and on
either side are scenes from her life. The small triptych of the
Crucifixion on a gold ground is an interesting work by the artist of
the four frescoes of the ceiling, and a nearer view of some of the
peculiarities of his style is obtained. It is impossible to mistake
the long slender necks, the curiously shaped ears with the upper part
very long, the narrow eyes, straight noses and small mouths, sometimes
drooping slightly at the corners, which he gives his figures. He is
another of those nameless painters who came to Assisi in the wake of
the great Florentine.
The visitor would leave Santa Chiara with a feeling of disappointment
were it not for the chapel of San Giorgio, the original place so often
mentioned in connection with St. Francis and now open to the public.
The crucifix of the tenth century, so famous for having bowed its head
to St. Francis in the church of San Damiano bidding him to repair the
ruined churches of Assisi, is to be removed from the parlour, where it
is temporarily kept, and placed behind the altar. The chapel, with a
groined roof, is square, small and of perfect form, and ornamented
with several frescoes. On the left wall is a delightful St. George
fighting the dragon in the presence of a tall princess, her face
showing very white against her red hair. There is a naive scene of the
Magi, whose sleeves are as long and whose hands are as spidery as
those of the princess; and above is an Annunciation. Behind the
curtain in the fresco a small child is standing who is evidently the
donor, but some people believe he represents the Infant Jesus, which
certainly would account for the surprised attitude of the Virgin. This
wall was painted in the sixteenth century by some artist of the Gubbio
school, but his name we have been unable to discover. Quite a
different character marks the frescoes upon the next wall, which would
seem to be the work of an Umbrian scholar of Simone Martini, or at
least by one more influenced by the Sienese than the Florentine
masters. There is a softness and an ivory tone in the paintings of the
saints, a languid look in their eyes, a sweetness about the mouth
peculiar to the Umbrian followers of Simone, who like him succeed less
well with male than with female saints. Here the Madonna, seated on a
Gothic throne against a crimson dais, with a broad forehead and blue
eyes, her soft veil falling in graceful folds about her slender neck,
is unusually charming. The St. George with his shield is perhaps less
disappointing than St. Francis, but then Simone fails to quite express
the nature of the Seraphic Preacher. We turn to St. Clare of the oval
face and clear brown eyes, and feel that the painter had a subject
which appealed to him, even to the brown habit and black veil which
makes the face seem more delicate and fair. Above are the Crucifixion,
Entombment and Resurrection, suggesting in the strained attitudes of
the figures a follower of Pietro Lorenzetti. Some remains of frescoes
upon the next wall resemble those in the nave of the Lower Church, and
probably also belong to the second half of the thirteenth century.
Indeed the architecture of the chapel bears a striking resemblance to
San Francesco, so that although this is the original building of San
Giorgio which existed long before the Franciscan Basilica, it was in
all probability remodelled by Fra Campello, who may have given it the
pretty groined roof.
But above all the works of art and all the views of church or convent,
the pious pilgrim treasures the privilege of being able to gaze upon
the body of the saint in the crypt below the high altar reached by a
broad flight of marble stairs. St. Clare had been buried so far out of
sight and reach that her tomb was only found in the year 1850, after
much search had been made. Five bishops, with Cardinal Pecci, now
Pope Leo XIII, and the magistrates of the town, were present at the
opening of the sepulchre; the iron bars which bound it were filed
asunder, and the body of the saint was found lying clad in her brown
habit as if buried but a little while since; the wild thyme which her
companions had sprinkled round her six hundred years ago, withered as
it was, still sent up a sweet fragrance, while a few green and tender
leaves are said to have been clinging to her veil. So great was the
joy at discovering this precious relic that a procession was organised
"with pomp impossible to describe."
[Illustration: SANTA CHIARA FROM NEAR THE PORTA MOJANO]
On the Sunday at dawn every bell commenced to ring calling the people
to high mass, and never, says a proud chronicler, were so many bishops
and such a crowd seen as upon that day. At the elevation of the Host
the bells pealed forth again announcing the solemn moment to the
neighbouring villages; soon after the procession was formed of lay
confraternities, priests and friars, and little children dressed as
angels strewed the way with flowers. The peasants, with tears raining
down their cheeks, pressed near the coffin, and had to be kept back by
some of the Austrian soldiers then quartered in Assisi. First they
went to the Cathedral, then to San Francesco, "the body of St. Clare
thus going to salute the body of her great master. Oh admirable
disposition of God." It was evening before they returned to the church
of Santa Chiara, where the nuns anxiously awaited them at the entrance
of their cloister to place the body of their foundress in the chapel
of San Giorgio until a sanctuary should be built beneath the high
altar. It was soon finished, ornamented with Egyptian alabaster and
Italian marbles, and the body of St. Clare was laid there to be
venerated by the faithful.
As pilgrims stand before a grating in the dimly lighted crypt the
gentle rustle of a nun's dress is heard; slowly invisible hands draw
the curtain aside, and St. Clare is seen lying in a glass case upon a
satin bed, her face clearly outlined against her black and white
veils, whilst her brown habit is drawn in straight folds about her
body. She clasps the book of her Rule in one hand, and in the other
holds a lily with small diamonds shining on the stamens. The silence
is unbroken save for the gentle clicking of the rosary beads slipping
through the fingers of the invisible nun who keeps watch, and as she
lets the curtain down again and blows out the lights there is a
feeling that we have intruded upon the calm sleep of the "Seraphic
Mother."
FOOTNOTES:
[101] As the hated enemies of the Baglioni the Fiumi are often
mentioned in the chronicles of Matarazzo, and they played an important
part in the history of their native city. They were Counts of
Sterpeto, and the village of that name on the hill to the west of
Assisi above the banks of the Chiaggio still belongs to the family.
[102] One of the first of the franciscans was Rufino, a nephew of
Count Favorino's, whose holiness was such that in speaking of him to
the other brethren St. Francis would call him St. Rufino.