"Yet I found one subject for consolation in those lands: in that many persons of either sex, rich, and living in the great world, leave all for the love of Christ and renounce the world. They are called the Friars Minor, and are held in great respect by the Pope and the Cardinals. They, on their part, care nought for things temporal, and strive hard every day to tear perishing souls from the vanities of this world and to entice them into their ranks. Thanks be to God, their labour has already borne fruit, and they have gained many souls: inasmuch as he who listens to them brings others, and thus one audience creates another.
"They live according to the rule of the primitive church, of which it is written: 'The multitude of believers were as one heart and one soul.' In the day they go into the cities and the villages to gain over souls and to work; in the night they betake themselves to hermitages and solitary places and give themselves up to contemplation.
"The women live together near to cities in divers convents; they accept nought, but live by the labour of their hands. They are much disturbed to find themselves held in greater esteem, both by the clergy and the laity, than they themselves desire.
"The men of this order meet once a year in some pre-arranged place, to their great profit, and rejoice together in the Lord and eat in company; and then, with the help of good and honest men, they adopt and promulgate holy institutions, approved by the Pope. After this they disperse, going about in Lombardy, Tuscany, and even in Apulia and Sicily, for the rest of the year.... I think it is to put the prelates to shame, who are like dogs unable to bark, that the Lord wills to save many souls before the end of the world, by means of these poor simple friars."[6]
Certainly one of the most remarkable events in mediæval history was the result of the teaching of St. Francis upon his own and future generations. In his native city the strength of his personal influence and the love and veneration which he excited was extraordinary. But we notice even a stranger fact; with his death this holy influence apparently vanished, and it is possible that the memory of the saint is dearer to the hearts of the Assisans in what we are inclined to call the prosaic tedium of our trafficking nineteenth century, than it was in the years immediately following his death. Later centuries have shown us that his teaching and his presence there were not in vain. Assisi, down to our own times, has continued to be the Mecca of thousands of pilgrims. Her churches bear the record of infinite early piety, for when art was in its early prime the most famous masters from Tuscany were called upon to decorate the Franciscan Basilica and leave their choicest treasures there as tributes to the immortal glory of the saint. But the note of war rings louder than the song of praise and love for many years to come in all the Assisan chronicles, and grass and weeds grow up to choke, though not to kill, the blessed seed that Francis sowed and did not live to tend. No sooner did the gates of death close upon that sweet and genial spirit, than war, lust, strife and pestilence burst upon the very people he had so tenderly loved. The story of Assisi becomes, as it had never been before, a list of murders—of struggles to the death for individual power, and of wars which made the fair Umbrian country a desolate and cruel waste for months and even years.
Each town looked with hatred upon its powerful rival, and the communal armies were for ever meeting in the plain by the Tiber to match their strength and see if some small portion at least of a city's domains could not be wrested from her. The bitterest and most pronounced enemies in the valley were undoubtedly Assisi and Perugia. Their feuds date back to the twelfth century; but even before the Christian era these two cities of the hills had marked each other as a foe for the one was Umbrian, the other Etruscan, and they merely continued the rivalry of their founders. It is often difficult to discover the cause of each separate war, but it may, as a general rule, be traced to Perugia's inborn love of fighting, and to her restless spirit which led her to storm each town in turn. From her eyrie she looked straight down upon half the Umbrian country, and gazing daily on so fair a land the desire for possession grew ever stronger. Many towns were forced to submit to her sway, and by the thirteenth century she was the acknowledged mistress of Umbria. It is, therefore, with surprise and admiration that we watch the undaunted struggle of Assisi against a tyrant whom she hated with a hatred quite Dantesque in its bitterness and strength. Many menacing towers were built on either side of the valley, and heralds were continually sent between the two towns with insulting messages to goad the citizens forward into battle. When Perugia was known to be preparing for an attack upon Assisi, the castles and villages around hastened to break their allegiance to the weaker city and ally themselves with the Perugian griffin. Assisi was thus often obliged to defend herself unaided against the Umbrian tyrant. When, in 1321 Perugia declared war against "this most wicked city of Assisi" whose crime consisted in having fallen under the rule of the Ghibelline party of her citizens,[7] both communes were in need of money as their bellicose habits had proved expensive. Busily, therefore, they set to work about procuring it, and in a highly characteristic manner Perugia sold her right of fishing in Thrasymene for five years, while the citizens of the Seraphic City entered by force into the sacristy of San Francesco and carried off a quantity of sacred spoils. Gold ornaments, censers, chalices, crucifixes of rare workmanship and precious stuffs, were divided into lots and sold, partly to Arezzo for 14,000 golden florins, and partly to Florence for a larger sum. Now these things did not even belong to the Franciscans, but had been carefully stored in the sacristy by the Pope and his cardinals during their last visit to the town. Great, therefore, was the wrath at the Papal Court when news came of the sacrilegious robbery, and without a moment's delay a bull of excommunication was fulminated from Avignon. For thirty-eight years Assisi lay under the heavy sentence of an interdict, and, except for the feast of the "Pardon of St. Francis," the church doors were closed and the church bells were silent. But not a whit did the people care for the anger of a distant Pope, and it is related that when the two friars brought the bull of excommunication to Ser Muzio di Francesco, the leader of the robbers, they were flogged within an inch of their lives, and further, they were made to swallow the seals of lead which hung from the Papal document.
The Assisans, having obtained the necessary funds, set to work to defend themselves against the enemy who were to be seen rolling their heavy catapults along the dusty roads. A proud historian says, "they saw without flinching 500 horsemen galloping round their walls," and with a heroism worthy of so good a cause, determined to be buried in the ruins of their city sooner than cede one step to their abhorred enemies the Perugians. They closed the shops, barred the houses and threw the chains across the streets to stop advancing cavalry; every artisan turned soldier, every noble watched from the tower of his palace. Not only were they guarding their own liberties, but they feared for the safety of the body of St. Francis, which the Perugians, ever prowling day and night about the walls, were anxious to carry off. The siege, it is said, lasted a year, when the Assisans were forced to give way and open their gates to the enemy, who sacked the town, "killing more than one hundred of the most wicked citizens, to wit, all those who fought against the city of Perugia." Then came a perilous moment, for many, not content with a barbarous pillage, wished to destroy Assisi altogether. Fortunately a wily Perugian, Massiolo di Buonante, stood up in her defence, arguing that "Assisi being now in their power, it were better to possess her fortified, and well provided against any new attack of the Ghibelline party."[8] His words had due effect, but still the town suffered horribly, and her walls only lately built were in greater part razed to the ground. The chains that guarded the streets together with the bars and keys of the gates were taken back to Perugia, where, until a century ago, they hung "as glorious trophies" from the claws of the bronze griffon outside the Palazzo Pubblico. Before leaving, the Perugians gave their orders to the now submissive city. The Guelphs were to live within the ancient circle of walls in the upper and more fortified part of the town, while the Ghibellines were left in the undefended suburbs.
THE GUELPH LION OF ASSISI