The Story of Assisi

by Lina Duff Gordon

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 mediæval 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 mediæval 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]).

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.