It was the cry which met the friars in every street they passed, so that the name of their former Vicar-General became hateful to them. And yet even now Elias must have had some friends in the Order, as at a council held at Genoa in 1244 there were a few who wished to reinstate him. The Pope commanded him to appear, but as the papal brief never arrived he was thus again debarred from clearing his much damaged character. The consequence of these efforts in his behalf only ended in his falling still deeper into disgrace; and for the second time he was excommunicated. We next hear of him roaming about the country with Frederic II, who found him useful on more than one occasion as a diplomatic agent. Elias was sent with strong letters of recommendation from Pier delle Vigne to Baldwin II, Emperor of Constantinople, and to Hugo I, King of Cyprus, and he was even charged to arrange a marriage for a daughter of Frederic. Among his various talents Elias seems to have been able to accommodate himself to a military life. We hear of him, both at the siege of Faenza and of Ravenna, riding out to battle on a magnificent charger. At other times he found a peaceful asylum at the Emperor's court, presenting a strange contrast to the "strolling minstrels, troubadours, poets, warriors, jugglers and artists of every grade" who frequented it. Upon the Emperor's death Elias returned to Cortona where the citizens received him kindly as he had obtained privileges for them at various times from his patron. Here, at the small hermitage in the ilex wood, he passed the last few years of his life in building a Franciscan church and convent, aided by the citizens who gave the ground for the site.
While the last touch was being put to the building of the great Assisan Basilica and it was about to be consecrated by Innocent IV, in 1253, Elias lay dying in his little cell at Cortona. His loneliness touched the heart of a lay brother, who with gentle words expressed his sorrow at seeing him an outcast from the Order and offered him help. Elias, no longer the proud ambitious churchman, answered very gently: "My brother, I see no other way save that thou shouldst go to the Pope and beg him for the love of God and of St. Francis His servant, through whose teaching I quitted the world, to absolve me from his excommunication and to give me back again the habit of religion." The lay brother hastened to Rome and pleaded so humbly that Innocent "permitted him to go back, and if he found Brother Elias alive he was to absolve him in his name from the excommunication and restore unto him the habit; so full of joy the friar departed and returned in hot haste to Brother Elias, and finding him yet alive but nigh unto death he absolved him from the excommunication and put on him again the habit, and Brother Elias quitted this life and his soul was saved by the merits of St. Francis and by his prayers in which Brother Elias had reposed such great faith."
Some say that even at the last fate pursued Elias, for the city of Cortona being at that time under an interdict no blessed oil could be found for the sacrament of extreme unction. Certainly his body was not allowed to rest in the church he had built for the brethren. A zealous friar dug it up and flung it on a dunghill, saying that no Ghibelline should be permitted to lie in consecrated ground.
Thus it was that Elias left a name hated among the franciscans as bitterly as the Emperor Frederic's always has been by Guelph historians. But while the war against the latter still rages as fiercely as ever, Elias, save for the gratitude felt by the citizens of Assisi, rests almost forgotten and his story hidden in the pages of old chronicles. Few even remember that owing to the untiring energy of this man Assisi owns one of the most beautiful monuments of mediæval art. It is possible that had Fra Leo, Bernard of Quintavalle and his companions succeeded in those first days of struggle, the Basilica of San Francesco might never have attained its present magnificence or the art of Giotto been born in this Umbrian corner of Italy. Chi lo sa? It is a question one hardly even likes to think of. But the danger passed away, and who cares now whether the franciscans grumbled at the time, or said the church and convent with its buttresses and towers looked more like the feudal fortress of some mighty baron than the tomb of the Preacher of Poverty? The San Francesco we love rises golden and rose-tinted above the olive groves and the vineyards, above the plain with its young corn and the white villages lying among the fruit-trees, above a rushing torrent which circles round the base of the Subasian mountain on its way to the Tiber; and all day the varied group of church, arcaded convent and terraced gardens, is showing its beauty to the sun.
In every light it is beautiful, in every mood we recall it, together with the choicest things we have seen in travel, haunting us like the charm of a living person. When the winter mists at early morning wrap round it like a mantle, or the stars form crowns above its roof and bell tower, there is always some new loveliness which thrills us, some fresh note of colour we have not noticed there before, making us again and again feel grateful that Elias forgot or ignored the teaching of his master.
SAN FRANCESCO FROM THE PLAIN
CHAPTER V