Little could the worshippers who may have been praying there that day for a blessing on their bereaved and distracted city, have guessed in what form that blessing was bestowed, and that that little babe, a few hours old, was to prove a most powerful instrument in the hands of God for the extinction of schism, the revival of piety, and the return of peace.
From her infancy, Francesca was not like other children. At two or three years old she manifested a precocious intelligence and piety. Instead of playing, she loved to retire into a silent corner of her father's palace, and kneeling down join her little hands in prayer.
From the time that Francesca had understood the meaning of the words, her greatest desire had been to enter a convent; it was therefore with profound grief that she received, at the age of twelve, the announcement from her father that he had promised her hand to Lorenzo Ponziano, a young nobleman of illustrious birth, and not less eminent for his virtues and talents than from his fortune and position. She flew to her director and besought his advice. "If your parents persist in their resolution," said he, "take it, my child, as a sign that God expects of you this sacrifice. Offer up to him in that case your earnest desire for the religious life. He will accept the will for the deed; and you will attain at once the reward of that wish, and the peculiar graces attached to the sacrament of marriage." Francesca submitted, and was married to Lorenzo Ponziano, and took up her abode in his palace in the heart of the Trastevere. It is a well-known spot; and on the 9th of March, the people of Rome flock to it in crowds. The modern building erected on the foundations of the old palace is the Casa dei Esercizii Pii. On the day of her festival its rooms are thrown open, every memorial of the gentle saint is exhibited, lights burn on numerous altars, flowers deck the passages, leaves are strewn in the chapel, on the stairs, in the entrance court; figured tapestry and crimson silks hang over the door, and crowds of people go in and out, and kneel before the relics and pictures of the dear saint of Rome, and gaze on each altar, and linger in these chambers, like kinsfolk met on a birthday to rejoice together.
Francesca was received into her new home tenderly and joyfully by her father-in-law Andrew, his wife Cecilia, and Vannozza, the wife of her husband's brother, a holy and loving woman, in whom Francesca found a kindred spirit. The manner of Francesca was so gentle and kind, that it inspired affection in all who approached her; but there was also a profound and awful purity in her aspect and in her demeanour, which effectually checked the utterance of a free or licentious word in her presence. Faithful to her early habits of piety, she continued every Wednesday to visit the church of S. Maria Nuova; and after confessing to her director, Antonio Savelli, she communicated. Rising betimes in the morning, Francesca devoutly said her prayers, made her meditations, and read attentively out of a spiritual book. In the course of the day, whenever she had a moment's leisure, she withdrew into a church, or into her own room, and gave herself up to prayer. At the same time, so devout a life in a young person of twelve years old could not fail to attract the attention and draw down the censures of the worldly. Many such began to laugh at Francesca, and to turn her piety into ridicule. But her husband was to her a shield, as far as in him lay, against spiteful tongues. His young wife was much too precious to him, much too perfect in his sight, her whole life bore too visibly the stamp of God's dealings with her, for him to dream of interfering with the course she had taken. On the contrary, he looked upon her with that affectionate veneration which the presence of true sanctity always awakens in a noble and religious mind.
There was not a single member, friend, or servant, of that noble family into which she had been received, that did not love her. Paluzzo, Lorenzo's brother, delighted in encouraging the intimacy that had arisen between his young sister-in-law and his own wife Vannozza. Day by day her influence—her tender, noiseless, gentle influence—was felt subduing, winning, drawing them all to God.
The happiness which the family of Ponziano had enjoyed since Lorenzo's marriage was interrupted by the sudden and dangerous illness of his wife, which baffled all medical skill, and soon brought her to the verge of the grave. She endured excruciating pain, and was unable to take nourishment. She declined rapidly, and all hope of her recovery was abandoned, when, one night, as she was lying motionless on her couch of suffering, listening to the breathing of her nurses who had fallen asleep, a sudden light filled the room, and she saw standing before her in pilgrim's robe, S. Alexis, the noble Roman penitent, who had passed many years as a despised beggar at the door of his father's palace. Drawing near to Francesca's bed, he said "I am Alexis, and am sent from God to enquire of thee if thou choosest to be healed?" "I have no choice but the good pleasure of God," she answered. "Then live," said he, "for He choosest that thou shouldest remain in the world to glorify His name." Then he drew his mantle over Francesca and vanished, leaving her perfectly recovered.
Confounded at this extraordinary favour, she rose in haste, and slipping out of the room without awaking her nurses, she hurried to the bedside of her sister-in-law. "My dear Vannozza, my own Vannozza!" she exclaimed, putting her arm round her neck, and her cheek next hers. Vannozza suddenly awoke, and distrusting the evidence of her senses, said, "Who are you? Am I dreaming? It sounds like the voice of my little Frances?" "Yes, it is your little sister who is speaking to you." "What! I left you only an hour ago at the point of death!" "It is I, nevertheless, come to thank you, dear companion, for having nursed me so tenderly, and now help me to thank God for his wonderful mercy towards me." Then sitting on her bed, with the hands of her sister clasped in her own, she related to her the vision, and the instantaneous recovery that had followed; and then, as the light began to break into the chamber, she added with eagerness, "Now let us hasten to S. Maria Nuova, and then to the church of S. Alexis, that I may return him my thanks, before others learn what God has done for me."
The year 1400 opened under melancholy auspices. The wars for the succession of the kingdom of Naples between Louis of Anjou and Ladislas were agitating the whole of Italy; and Rome was exposed to all the fury of the contending parties. Lorenzo Ponziano, from his rank and fidelity to the sovereign pontiff, was especially marked out as an enemy by the adverse faction. But while on every side the storm was brewing, and the aspect of public affairs each day became more gloomy, a blessing was granted him, which for the last five years he had ardently desired. Francesca became the mother of a little son, who received at the font the name of John Baptist, or, in Italian, Giovanni Baptista. It was not at that time the custom for ladies of rank to nurse their children; but Francesca set aside all such considerations, and never consented to forego a mother's sacred privilege.
In obedience to her director, and guided by her own sense of duty, she modified, for the time being her usual mode of life, and occupied herself with the care of her child in preference to all other observances of charity or of devotion.
About a year after, Lorenzo's mother died, and Francesca was called to take her place as head of the household, and to superintend all the domestic affairs. Distressed at the proposal, she pleaded her youth and inexperience, and urged that Vannozza, as the wife of the eldest brother, was, as a matter of course, entitled to that position. Vannozza, however, steadily refused it, and at length, overcome by the general importunity, Francesca found herself obliged to comply. Now it was that her merit shone conspicuously. Placed at the head of the most opulent house in Rome, no symptom of pride revealed itself in her looks or in her actions. She was never heard to speak a harsh or impatient word. Firm in requiring every person in her house to fulfil their duties, she did it in the gentlest manner. Always courteous to her servants, she watched over their souls as precious treasures entrusted to her custody by God.