The Story of Assisi

by Lina Duff Gordon

They further commanded that each year, on the feast of St. Ercolano, the Assisans should bring them a banner "worth at least 25 golden florins, in signum subjectionis." This was the greatest ignominy of all, and rankled even more deeply in the hearts of the citizens of Assisi than the fact of their being governed by Perugian officials. The delivery of the yearly tribute was performed in a manner highly characteristic of the times and of the love of petty tyranny and display peculiar to the mediæval towns. An Assisan horseman mounted on a splendidly caparisoned charger brought the hated emblem to lay before the Priors of Perugia, who robed in crimson, with heavy golden chains about their necks, waited at the foot of the campanile of San Lorenzo. Close to them stood four mace bearers and trumpeters with white griffins painted on the red satin streamers which hung from the silver trumpets. Nothing was neglected that would impress her subjects with the dignity of her hill-set city. All the Perugians were assembled, and in their name the Priors promised to defend Assisi against her enemies and to preserve her from the yoke of tyrants. Having uttered this solemn mockery, they gave the Podestà of Assisi a sealed book wherein were written the laws to be observed in return for the inestimable favours granted; the book was not to be opened until he and his retinue had returned to their own city. The spirit of the Assisans was by no means crushed by their misfortunes, and shortly after the events we have just narrated they issued an edict with a pomp worthy of Perugia herself which fairly puzzled the Priors of that city. All Perugians holding land in Assisi were herein ordered to pay the taxes usually demanded of "strangers" possessing property in the territory; further, the Assisans proclaimed their firm determination no longer to observe any orders given to them by the Commune of Perugia. This audacity was, however, soon checked. Perugia issued an order to the effect that these statutes, and these alone, which were decreed by herself were to be valid in Assisi, all others were worthless. Assisi therefore remained subject to Perugia till 1367, when Cardinal Albornoz who was engaged in recovering the allegiance of the Papal States, entered her gates. He was received with wild enthusiasm by the citizens, for they hailed him as their deliverer from the hated yoke of the Perugians. The Assisans had every reason to rejoice in this change of masters, as the Cardinal allowed them to govern their town like a free republic; he rebuilt the walls destroyed during the last siege, and the castle which had also suffered much from the Perugian soldiery. The people were delighted, and their artists were soon busily employed in painting the gilded arms of the church on gateways and on palaces.

During his brief sojourn in Assisi the war-like Cardinal had found such peace as he had probably not often known before, and such was his love for the church of San Francesco that he added to it several chapels and chose a place for his tomb within its walls. He died at Viterbo; and only five months after the Assisans had welcomed him with such rejoicing, they went with torches and candles, to bear his dead body back to San Francesco, the Priors, says a chronicler, spending 145 florins upon the crimson gowns they bought for this occasion.

Days of peace and liberty were short, and the Assisans were soon groaning beneath the enormous taxes laid upon them by the zealous ministers of the Pope. In 1376 their indignation rose to such a pitch that they broke into open rebellion, and joined in the war-cry against the Church, which was to be heard in other towns of Tuscany and Umbria. The citizens besieged the Legates in their palaces and ordered them with haughty words to depart; so seeing it was safer to obey, they returned to Rome without a word. "Because of their love for the holy Pontiff, whose servants they were, the Assisans used no violence towards them," but having got their way with polite bows accompanied them safely beyond the city gates. But at this time, when all was war and conspiracy, there seemed no chance of a free life again for the people. No sooner had one tyrant been disposed of than another rose to take his place. When news of these events reached the Perugians they thought it a good opportunity to try and again get possession of the town, accordingly envoys were sent "just to put things in order" as they expressed it; but the Assisans shut the gates of the city in their faces and informed them that in future they intended to manage their own affairs. We cannot say that their endeavours were crowned with success, the nobles fought among themselves, while the mob was ever ready for any kind of novelty. It is related how in the year 1398 the Assisans changed their mind three times in one day as to who should be their lord. "Evviva the Church" was the first cry; the second, "Evviva the people of Perugia"; and lastly, "Evviva Messer Imbroglia," a roving adventurer who alternately fought for the Duke of Milan and the Pope, and finally entered Assisi at the head of a large cavalcade as Captain and Gonfalonier of the city.

In the early centuries Assisi had bravely fought for her independence and held her own fairly well; but in the fourteenth century a sudden whirlwind swept across the country threatening to destroy the last remnant of her freedom. At this time the condottieri were busy carving out principalities for themselves, and one after another they marched through the land forcing the towns to bear their yoke. Assisi, not without a sharp struggle, fell a prey to Biordo Michelotti and Braccio Fortebraccio, successive despots of Perugia; and the citizens found themselves for the next twenty years in turn the vassals of Guidantonio of Montefeltro, of Sforza, and of the Pope. In 1442 Perugia was governed, in the name of the Pope, by Niccolò Piccinino, successor to Fortebraccio as the leader of the Bracceschi troops, and consequently a successor to the rivalry with Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan. Assisi, therefore, who had spontaneously given herself to Sforza, preferring the tyranny of strangers to the yoke of Perugia, was not likely to be favourably looked on by Piccinino, and sooner or later he determined to besiege her. But just at this time Perugia had made peace with all the world, and, delighted with this novel state of things, she rang the great bell of the Commune, lit beacon fires on the hills, and sent a special messenger to Assisi to proclaim the fact. The Assisans, with more courage than discretion, cursed the messenger and those who sent him, saying they had half a mind to kill him. "Return with this message," they cried, "say unto those who sent thee, that they try to wipe us from the face of the earth and then send words of peace. But we will have war and only war." This insulting message was duly delivered to the astonished priors, and that night the beacon fires were extinguished. When news reached Assisi of the vast preparations in Perugia for war, these hasty words were regretted. Luckily Francesco Sforza sent the Assisans a good supply of troops, and every day they hoped for the arrival of his brother Alessandro.

The month that followed was disastrous to Assisi, and the account of the war given us by the Perugian chronicler Graziani who took part in the siege, brings before us vividly the many stages she had to pass through before arriving at the calm, seraphic days of later years.

By the end of October 1442, Niccolò Piccinino, alluded to always as el Capitano, arrived in the plain below Assisi with some 20,000 men, and took up his quarters in the Franciscan monastery of San Damiano. His first intention was to take the town by assault, but on surveying the fortifications and walls and the impregnable castle, he deemed it wiser to wait quietly until hunger should have damped the valour of the citizens. Help, however, came to him from another quarter. It is believed that a Franciscan friar, perhaps one of those with whom he lodged at San Damiano, betrayed to him a way into the town by means of an unused drain.

"On Wednesday, being the 28th day of November, the Captain's people entered Assisi by an underground drain, which, beginning below the smaller fortress towards the Carceri, enters Assisi near the market-place below the castle. There Pazaglia, Riccio da Castello, and Nicolo Brunoro, with more than 300 men-at-arms, had seen to clearing the said sewer and cutting through some iron bars at the exit placed by the Assisans so that none might enter; and Pazaglia and his companions worked so well that they entered with all their people one by one. And when they had entered they emerged inside the walls, and advanced without any noise, holding close to the side of the said walls so as not to be seen, although the darkness of the night was great and drizzling rain was falling. But it happened that one of those within passed by with a lighted torch in his hand, and, hearing and seeing people, said several times: 'Who goes there.' At last answer was made to him: 'Friends, friends.' The bearer of the torch went but a little farther before he began to cry out: 'To arms, to arms. Awake, awake, for the enemy is within.' So a great tumult arose throughout the town. Then Pazaglia and his companions, finding they were discovered, mounted the walls and shouted to those outside: 'Ladders, ladders. Enter, enter.'"[9]

With cries of "Braccio, Braccio," the captain led his men rapidly through the town, burning the gate, killing the citizens, and pillaging every palace as they passed along. When Alessandro Sforza who had stolen into Assisi the night before, "to comfort and encourage the citizens," found that the enemy was within he hurried with a few Assisan notables to take refuge in the castle. From the tower-girt hill he looked down upon the scene of carnage—and what a sight it was as pictured by Graziani!

"The anguish, the noise, and the screams of women and children! God alone knows how fearful a thing it was to see them all dishevelled; some tearing their faces, some beating their breasts, one weeping for a father, one for a son, another for a brother, as, crying with loud voices, they prayed to God for death.... But, in truth, these same Assisans did themselves much injury, greatly adding to their own trouble. They might have saved many more of their chattels had they trusted the Perugians, but rather did they trust the strangers, and this to their undoing, for the said strangers deceived them. Thus was proved the truth of that proverb which says: 'The offender never pardons.' Often aforetime had they offended the Commune of Perugia as we have seen. Even at this moment, when its forces were encamped outside Assisi, they constantly stood on their walls and hurled insulting and menacing words at the Perugians, defying and threatening them, whom for this reason peradventure they did not trust.... Also on the same day, while the city was being sacked, a multitude of women with their children and goods, took sanctuary in Santa Chiara; and when the captain passed and saw so many women and children sheltered there, he said to the women, especially to the nuns of Santa Chiara, that it was no longer a safe refuge for them, and if they would choose where they wished to go he would send them thither in safety. Then, naming to them all the neighbouring towns, he lastly offered to place them in safety in the city of Perugia. But when they heard the name of Perugia, first the nuns and then the other women replied, 'May Perugia be destroyed by fire.' And when the captain heard this answer, he immediately cried, 'Pillage, pillage!' Thus was everything plundered and ruined—the convent with the nuns, the women and the children, and much booty was there...."[10]

Assisi, now the shell of her former self, seemed indeed a city of the dead. Through her deserted streets, running with the blood of the slain, echoed the sound of falling rafters and crumbling palaces, while bon-fires flamed on the piazza fed with the public archives by the destroying Perugians. Across the Tiber were to be seen the unhappy citizens being driven like droves of cattle by their captors up the hill to the city they hated. There the women, with their children clinging round their necks, were sold in the market-place as slaves, and exposed to the cruellest treatment by their masters. Even tiny children of four and five years old were sold; a maiden, we are told, fetched fifteen ducats, and many were bought, sometimes for the love of God, and sometimes as maidservants. Every day fresh booty was brought in, and the Perugians fought over the gold chalices, missals, and other treasures robbed from churches and convents; but these brought lower prices, for even Perugian consciences seem to have been troubled with scruples, and superstitious fear kept them from buying stolen church property. While the slave market was proceeding amidst the clanging of bells proclaiming the victory, the Priors of Perugia sat in their council hall of the great Palazzo Pubblico discussing how they could bring about the total annihilation of Assisi. The following curious letter was finally written, sealed, and sent to Niccolò Piccinino by five ambassadors who were to tempt him to do the deed with a bribe of 15,000 ducats: