[8] 3 Soc., 55.
[9] All this yet remains in its primitive state. The road which went from a.s.sisi to the now ruined Abbey of Mount Subasio (almost on the summit of the mountain) pa.s.sed the Carceri, where there was a little chapel built by the Benedictines.
[10] _Illi qui religiose volunt stare in eremis sint tres aut quatuor ad plus. Duo ex ipsis sint matres, et habeant duos filios, vel unum ad minus. Illi duo teneant vitam Marthae et alii duo vitam Mariae Magdalenae._ a.s.sisi MS., 338, 43a-b; text given also in _Conf._, 143a, 1, from which Wadding borrows it for his edition of the _Opuscules_ of St. Francis. Cf. 2 Cel., 3, 113.
It is possible that we have here a fragment of the Rule, which must have been composed toward 1217.
[11] 1 Cel., 42 and 43; 3 Soc., 55; Bon., 41.
[12] 1 Cel., 42-44.
[13] 2 Cel., 1, 15; Bon., 65. These two authors do not say where the event took place; but there appears to be no reason for suspecting the indication of Rivo-Torto given by the _Speculum_, fo. 21a.
[14] 2 Cel., 3, 110. Cf. _Spec._, 22a.
[15] 1 Cel., 47; Bon., 43.
[16] There are few events of the thirteenth century that offer more doc.u.ments or are more obscure than this one. The chroniclers of the most different countries speak of it at length. Here is one of the shortest but most exact of the notices, given by an eye-witness (Annals of Genoa of the years 1197-1219, _apud Mon. Germ. hist. Script_., t. 18): 1212 _in mense Augusti, die Sabbati, octava Kalendarum Septembris, intravit civitatem Janue quidam puer Teutonicus nomine Nicholaus peregrinationis causa, et c.u.m eo mult.i.tudo maxima pelegrinorum defferentes cruces et bordonos atque sca.r.s.ellas ultra septem millia arbitratu boni viri inter homines et feminas et puellos et puellas. Et die dominica sequenti de civitate exierunt_.--Cf.
Giacomo di Viraggio: Muratori, t. ix., col. 46: _Dicebant quod mare debebat apud Januam siccari et sic ipsi debebant in Hierusalem proficisci. Multi autem inter eos erant filii n.o.bilium, quos ipsi etiam c.u.m meretricibus destinarunt (!_) The most tragic account is that of Alberic, who relates the fate of the company that embarked at Ma.r.s.eilles. _Mon. Ger. hist.
Script_., t. 23, p. 894.
[17] The Benedictine chronicler, Albert von Stade (_Mon. Ger.
hist. Script_., t. 16, pp. 271-379), thus closes his notice of the children"s crusade: _Adhuc quo devenerint ignorantur sed plurimi redierunt, a quibus c.u.m quaereretur causa cursus dixerunt se nescire. Nudae etiam mulieres circa idem tempus nihil loquentes per villas et civitates cucurrerunt._ _Loc. cit._, p. 355.
[18] _Chron. Veronese, ann. 1238_ (Muratori, _Scriptores Rer.
Ital._, t. viii., p. 626). Cf. Barbarano de" Mironi: _Hist.
Eccles. di Vicenza_, t. ii., pp. 79-84.
[19] The Brothers were at first called _Viri paenitentiales de civitate a.s.sisii_ (3 Soc., 37); it appears that they had a momentary thought of calling themselves _Pauperes de a.s.sisio_, but they were doubtless dissuaded from this at Rome, as too closely resembling that of the _Pauperes de Lugduno_. Vide _Burchardi chronicon._, p. 376; vide Introd., cap. 5.
[20] Vide Rule of 1221, _cap._ 7. Cf. 1 Cel., 38, and Bon., 78.
[21] 1 Cel., 36.
[22] _Storia d"a.s.sisi_, t. i., pp. 123-129.
CHAPTER VIII
PORTIUNCULA
1211
It was doubtless toward the spring of 1211 that the Brothers quitted Rivo-Torto. They were engaged in prayer one day, when a peasant appeared with an a.s.s, which he noisily drove before him into the poor shelter.
"Go in, go in!" he cried to his beast; "we shall be most comfortable here." It appeared that he was afraid that if the Brothers remained there much longer they would begin to think this deserted place was their own.[1] Such rudeness was very displeasing to Francis, who immediately arose and departed, followed by his companions.
Now that they were so numerous the Brothers could no longer continue their wandering life in all respects as in the past; they had need of a permanent shelter and above all of a little chapel. They addressed themselves in vain first to the bishop and then to the canons of San Rufino for the loan of what they needed, but were more fortunate with the abbot of the Benedictines of Mount Subasio, who ceded to them in perpetuity the use of a chapel already very dear to their hearts, Santa Maria degli Angeli or the Portiuncula.[2]
Francis was enchanted; he saw a mysterious harmony, ordained by G.o.d himself, between the name of the humble sanctuary and that of his Order.
The brethren quickly built for themselves a few huts; a quickset hedge served as enclosing wall, and thus in three or four days was organized the first Franciscan convent.
For ten years they were satisfied with this. These ten years are the heroic period of the Order. St. Francis, in full possession of his ideal, will seek to inculcate it upon his disciples and will succeed sometimes; but already the too rapid multiplication of the brotherhood will provoke some symptoms of relaxation.
The remembrance of the beginning of this period has drawn from the lips of Thomas of Celano a sort of canticle in honor of the monastic life. It is the burning and untranslatable commentary of the Psalmist"s cry: "_Behold how sweet and pleasant it is to be brethren and to dwell together._"
Their cloister was the forest which then extended on all sides of Portiuncula, occupying a large part of the plain. There they gathered around their master to receive his spiritual counsels, and thither they retired to meditate and pray.[3] It would be a gross mistake, however, to suppose that contemplation absorbed them completely during the days which were not consecrated to missionary tours: a part of their time was spent in manual labor.
The intentions of St. Francis have been more misapprehended on this point than on any other, but it may be said that nowhere is he more clear than when he ordains that his friars shall gain their livelihood by the work of their hands. He never dreamed of creating a _mendicant_ order, he created a _laboring_ order. It is true we shall often see him begging and urging his disciples to do as much, but these incidents ought not to mislead us; they are meant to teach that when a friar arrived in any locality and there spent his strength for long days in dispensing spiritual bread to famished souls, he ought not to blush to receive material bread in exchange. To work was the rule, to beg the exception; but this exception was in nowise dishonorable. Did not Jesus, the Virgin, the disciples live on bread bestowed? Was it not rendering a great service to those to whom they resorted to teach them charity?
Francis in his poetic language gave the name of _mensa Domini_, the table of the Lord, to this table of love around which gathered the _little poor ones_. The bread of charity is the bread of angels; and it is also that of the birds, which reap not nor gather into barns.
We are far enough, in this case, from that mendicity which is understood as a means of existence and the essential condition of a life of idleness. It is the opposite extreme, and we are true and just to St.
Francis and to the origin of the mendicant orders only when we do not separate the obligation of labor from the praise of mendicity.[4]
No doubt this zeal did not last long, and Thomas of Celano already ent.i.tles his chapters, "_Lament before G.o.d over the idleness and gluttony of the friars_;" but we must not permit this speedy and inevitable decadence to veil from our sight the holy and manly beauty of the origin.
With all his gentleness Francis knew how to show an inflexible severity toward the idle; he even went so far as to dismiss a friar who refused to work.[5] Nothing in this matter better shows the intentions of the Poverello than the life of Brother Egidio, one of his dearest companions, him of whom he said with a smile: "He is one of the paladins of my Round Table."
Brother Egidio had a taste for great adventures, and is a living example of a Franciscan of the earliest days; he survived his master twenty-five years, and never ceased to obey the letter and spirit of the Rule with freedom and simplicity.
We find him one day setting out on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
Arrived at Brindisi, he borrowed a water-jug that he might carry water while he was awaiting the departure of the ship, and pa.s.sed a part of every day in crying through the streets of the city: "_Alla fresca! Alla fresca!_" like other water-carriers. But he would change his trade according to the country and the circ.u.mstances; on his way back, at Ancona, he procured willow for making baskets, which he afterward sold, not for money but for his food. It even happened to him to be employed in burying the dead.
Sent to Rome, every morning after finishing his religious duties, he would take a walk of several leagues, to a certain forest, whence he brought a load of wood. Coming back one day he met a lady who wanted to buy it; they agreed on a price, and Egidio carried it to her house. But when he arrived at the house she perceived him to be a friar, and would have given him more than the price agreed upon. "My good lady," he replied, "I will not permit myself to be overcome by avarice," and he departed without accepting anything at all.
In the olive season he helped in the gathering; in grape season he offered himself as vintager. One day on the Piazza di Roma, where men are hired for day"s work, he saw a _padrone_ who could not find a man to thrash his walnut tree; it was so high that no one dared risk himself in it. "If you will give me part of the nuts," said Egidio, "I will do it willingly." The bargain struck and the tree thrashed, there proved to be so many nuts that he did not know where to put his share. Gathering up his tunic he made a bag of it and full of joy returned to Rome, where he distributed them among all the poor whom he met.
Is not this a charming incident? Does it not by itself alone reveal the freshness, the youth, the kindness of heart of the first Franciscans?
There is no end to the stories of the ingenuousness of Brother Egidio.
All kinds of work seemed good to him provided he had time enough in the morning for his religious duties. Now he is in the service of the Cellarer of the Four Crowns at Rome, sifting flour and carrying water to the convent from the well of San Sisto. Now he is at Rieti, where he consents to remain with Cardinal Nicholas, bringing to every meal the bread which he had earned, notwithstanding the entreaties of the master of the house, who would gladly have provided for his wants. One day it rained so hard that Brother Egidio could not think of going out; the cardinal was already making merry over the thought that he would be forced to accept bread that he had not earned. But Egidio went to the kitchen, and finding that it needed cleaning he persuaded the cook to let him sweep it, and returned triumphant with the bread he had earned, which he ate at the cardinal"s table.[6]
From the very beginning Egidio"s life commanded respect; it was at once so original, so gay, so spiritual,[7] and so mystical, that even in the least exact and most expanded accounts his legend has remained almost free from all addition. He is, after St. Francis, the finest incarnation of the Franciscan spirit.
The incidents which are here cited are all, so to speak, ill.u.s.trations of the Rule; in fact there is nothing more explicit than its commands with respect to work.
The Brothers, after entering upon the Order, were to continue to exercise the calling which they had when in the world, and if they had none they were to learn one. For payment they were to accept only the food that was necessary for them, but in case that was insufficient they might beg. In addition they were naturally permitted to own the instruments of their calling.[8] Brother Ginepro, whose acquaintance we shall make further on, had an awl, and gained his bread wherever he went by mending shoes, and we see St. Clara working even on her death-bed.
This obligation to work with the hands merits all the more to be brought into the light, because it was destined hardly to survive St. Francis, and because to it is due in part the original character of the first generation of the Order. Yet this was not the real reason for the being of the Brothers Minor. Their mission consisted above all in being the spouses of Poverty.
Terrified by the ecclesiastical disorders of the time, haunted by painful memories of his past life, Francis saw in money the special instrument of the devil; in moments of excitement he went so far as to execrate it, as if there had been in the metal itself a sort of magical power and secret curse. Money was truly for him the sacrament of evil.
This is not the place for asking if he was wrong; grave authors have demonstrated at length the economic troubles which would have been let loose upon the world if men had followed him. Alas! his madness, if madness it were, is a kind of which one need not fear the contagion.