The Story of Assisi

by Lina Duff Gordon

The kind heart of Francis had always been touched at the sight of the poor lepers, who, exiled from the companionship of their fellow creatures, lived in a lazar-house on the plain, about a mile from the town. But his compassion for their misery was mingled with a strong feeling of repugnance, so that he had always shunned these wretched outcasts. "When I was in the bondage of sin," he tells us in his will, "it was bitter to me, and loathsome to see, and loke uppon persouny enfect with leopre; but that blessed Lord broughte me amonge them, and I did mercy with them, and departing from them, what before semyd bittre and lothesomme was turned and changed to me in great sweetnesse and comfort both of body and of soule, and afterwards in this state I stode and abode a lytle while, and then I lefte and forsooke the worldly lyf."[27]

Pietro Bernardone now saw his son, clothed in rags, his face pinched and white from long vigils spent in prayer, going forth on errands of mercy, jeered at by the citizens, pelted with stones and filth by the children. There were many storms in the Bernardone household which the gentle Pica was unable to quell; and when finally Francis began to throw his father's money among the poor in the same regal manner in which he had once spent it among his boon companions, Bernardone could bear it no longer, and drove his son from the house. When they met he cursed him, and the family bonds thus severed were never again renewed.

Francis was still like a pilgrim uncertain of his goal, or like a man standing before a heavy burden which he feels unable to lift. What was he to do with his life—how could he help the poor and suffering—were questions he asked himself over and over again as he vainly sought for an anchor in the troubled seas. The answer came to him one day as he was attending mass at the chapel of the Portiuncula on the feast of St. Matthew the apostle, in the year 1209.

"And as ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely give. Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses, nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves" ... read the priest from the gospel of the day. Those simple words were a revelation to Francis, who, when mass was over, ran out into the woods, and, with only the birds in the oak trees to witness his strange interpretation of the gospel, threw away his shoes, wallet, staff and well-filled purse. "This is what I desired; behold, here is what I searched for and am burning to perform," he cried, in the delirium of his new-found joy.

If the Assisans had been astonished at his former eccentricities, as they termed his deeds of charity, they were yet more amazed to see him now, clothed in a coarse habit, with a knotted cord round his waist, and with bare feet, begging his bread from door to door. After a little while they grew accustomed to the hurrying figure of the young mendicant as he passed rapidly down the street greeting all he met with the salutation of "Our Lord give thee His peace." The words brought something new and strange into men's hearts, and those who had scoffed at him most drew near to learn the secret of their charm. The first to be touched by the simplicity and joyous saintliness of Francis was Bernardo di Quintevalle, a wealthy noble of Assisi, who had known him as King among the young Assisan revellers, and watched with astonishment his complete renouncement of the world. He determined to join Francis in ministering to the lepers, and began his new mode of life by selling all his possessions for the benefit of the poor. His conversion created a considerable stir in the town; and people had not ceased to gossip on the subject when another well-known citizen, Pietro de Catanio, a canon of the cathedral, also offered his services at the lazar-house. A few days later a labourer named Egidio "beholding how those noble knights of Assisi despised the world, so that the whole country stood amazed," came in search of Francis to beg him to take him as one of his companions. Francis met him at the entrance of the wood by the lazar hospital, and gazing on the devout aspect of Egidio, answered and said: "Brother most dear, God has shown Himself exceeding gracious unto thee. If the Emperor were to come to Assisi and desire to make a certain citizen his knight or private chamberlain, ought not such a one to be exceeding glad? How much more oughtest thou not to rejoice that God hath chosen thee out to be His knight and well-beloved servant, to observe the perfection of the Holy Gospel"?[28] and, taking him by the hand, he brought him to the hut which was their home. Here a merchant's son, a learned churchman, and a rich nobleman, welcomed an Assisan labourer in their midst with the simple brotherly love which was to be the keynote of the franciscan order. After the reception of Egidio we are told that Francis went with him to the Marches of Ancona, "singing glorious praises of the Lord of heaven and earth" as they travelled along the dusty roads. Albeit Francis did not preach publicly to the people, yet as he went by the way he admonished and corrected the men-folk and the women-folk, saying lovingly to them these simple words: "Love and fear God, and do fit penance for your sins." And Egidio would say: "Do what this my spiritual Father saith unto you, for he speaketh right well."

It was not long before the fame of Francis drew quite a little community of brethren to the tiny hut in the plain, and the question naturally occurs—Did Francis plan out the creation of an order when he gathered men around him? It was so natural a thing for disciples to follow him that his biographers simply note it as a fact, and, not being given to speculation in those days, pass on to other events. We may be allowed to conjecture that the same ambition which some years before had stirred his longing to be a great prince was not dead, only his dreams were to be realised in another sphere of action. The qualities which made him the brilliant leader among the gay nobles of Assisi were now turned into another channel—he became a prince among saints, a controller of men's destinies.

Varied indeed was the band of Francis' disciples, and it is interesting to see how each one was allowed to follow the bent of his nature. In this complete sympathy with character lay one of the secrets of his power. Egidio, who in the world had been a labourer, was encouraged by his master to continue his life in the open country. He gathered in the olives for the peasants, helped them with their vintage, and when the corn was being cut would glean the ears; but if anyone offered him a handful of grain, he remarked: "My brother, I have no granary wherein to store it." Usually he gave away what he had gleaned to the poor, so that he brought little food back to the convent. Always ready to turn his hand to every job, one day we find Egidio beating a walnut tree for a proprietor who could find none to do the work because the tree was so tall. But he set himself gaily to the task, and having made the sign of the Cross, "with great fear climbed up the walnut tree and beat it. The share that fell to him was so large that he could not carry it in his tunic, so taking off his habit he tied the sleeves and the hood together and made a sack of it."[29] With this load on his back he returned towards the convent, but on the way distributed all the nuts to the poor. Egidio remains the ideal type of the franciscan friar. "He is a Knight of my Round Table," said Francis one day as he recounted some new adventure which had befallen the intrepid brother, who was always journeying to some southern town, and is said even to have visited the Holy Land.[30]

A very different man, drawn by the magic influence of Francis into the Order at the beginning of its fame in 1211, was Elias Buonbarone, the son of a Bolognese mattress-maker who had for some time been settled in Assisi. He is always represented by the biographers as haughty, overbearing, and fond of controlling the actions of others; in fact a strong contrast to the meek brother Leo whom Francis lovingly named the little lamb of God. But if lacking in saintly qualities, Elias possessed a remarkable mind and determination of character which enabled him afterwards to play a considerable part in the history of his times. He embodies the later franciscan spirit which grew up after the saint's death, and of which we shall treat in another chapter.

When Francis found himself surrounded by some dozen followers, all anxious to obey his wishes to the very letter and waiting only to be sent hither and thither as he commanded, it became necessary to write down some rule of life. In simple words he enjoined all to live according to the precepts of the Gospel, "and they that came to reseyve this forme or manner of lyvynge departyd and distributed that they had and myght haue too powre people. And we were content with oone coote pesyd bothe within forthe and without forthe with oone corde and a femorall, and we wolde not haue ony more. Our dyvyne servyse the clerkis saide as other clerkis, and the lay bretherne said ther Pater noster. And we fulle gladly dwelt and taried in pour deserte and desolat churchys, and we were contente to be taken as ideotis and foolys of every man, and I did exercyse my self in bodily laboure. And I wille laboure, and yt ys my wille surely and steadfastely that alle the bretherne occupie and exercyse themself in laboure, and in such occupation and laboure as belongeth to honeste. And those that have no occupation to exercyse themself with alle, shall lerne not for covetis to resceyve the price or hier for their laboure, but for to give good example and eschewe and put away idlenesse. When we wer not satisfied nor recompensied for our laboure, we went and had recourse to the lord of oure Lorde, askynge almes from dore to dore. Our Lorde by reualation tawghte me to say this maner of salutation, 'Our Lorde give to thee His peace.'"[31]

The first rule which Francis and his companions took in the summer of 1210 to be confirmed by Innocent III, has not come down to us. In Rome they fortunately met the bishop of Assisi, who promised to obtain for them, through one of the Cardinals, an interview with the Pope. A legend tells us how Innocent, wrapt in deep meditation, was pacing with solemn step the terrace of the Lateran, when this strange company of ragged, bare-footed, dusty men was ushered into his presence. He looked at them in surprise, his lip curling in disdain as Francis stepped forward to make his request. From an Umbrian pilgrim he heard for the first time that power was not the greatest good in life while in poverty lay both peace and joy, and the great pope stood amazed at the new doctrine. "Who can live without temporal possessions," sarcastically asked the Cardinals who had been trained in the spirit of Innocent, and the "Penitents of Assisi" bowed their heads, and drawing their hoods forward, went sorrowfully out of the pope's presence amid the jeers of his court. That night Innocent had a dream in which he saw the church of St John Lateran about to fall, and its tottering walls were supported on the shoulders of a man whom he recognised as the spokesman of the band of Umbrians he had so hastily dismissed. Full of strange visions the pope sent for Francis, who repeated his desire to have his rule confirmed. "My son," said Innocent, "your rule of life seems to us most hard and bitter, but although we do not doubt your fervour we must consider whether the road is not too hard a one for those who are to follow thee." Francis, with ready wit, answered these objections by a tale he invented for the purpose. "A beautiful but poor girl lived in a desert, and a great king, seeing her beauty, wished to take her to wife, thinking by her to have fine children. The marriage having taken place, many sons were born, and when they were grown up their mother thus spoke to them: 'My sons be not ashamed, for you are sons of the king; go therefore to his court and he will cause all that is needful to be given to you.' And when they came, the king, observing their beauty and seeing in them his own likeness and image, said: 'Whose sons are you?' And they answered; 'sons of a poor woman who lived in the desert.' So with great joy the king embraced them, saying: 'Be not afraid, for you are my sons, and when strangers eat at my table how much more right have you to eat who are my legitimate sons?' The king then ordered the said woman to send all sons born of her to be nourished at his court." "Oh, Messer," cried Francis, "I am that poor woman, beloved of God, and made beautiful through His mercy, by whom he was pleased to generate legitimate sons. And the King said to me that he will feed all the sons born of me, for as He feeds strangers so He may well feed His own."