CHAPTER IV

_The building of the Basilica and Convent of San Francesco. The Story of Brother Elias_

"O brother mine, O beautiful brother, O brother of love, build me a castle which shall have neither stone nor iron. O beautiful brother, build me a city which shall have neither wood nor stone."--BEATO EGIDIO.

One of the strangest characteristics of mediæval Italy was the rivalry between different towns to gain possession of the bodies of holy people. They did not even wait for the bull of canonisation to arrive from Rome, but often of their own accord placed the favoured being in the Calendar of Saints, and papal decrees merely ratified the choice of popular devotion. We have an example of this with the Perugians. Ever on the alert to increase the glory of their city, they hovered near the road St. Francis was to follow during his last illness when borne from Cortona to Assisi, meaning to carry him off by force so that he might die in Perugia.[59] Never at a loss for a way out of any difficulty Elias hastily changed the itinerary for the journey, and instead of the short way by lake Thrasymene he took the much longer and more difficult road by Gualdo and Nocera, far back in the mountains to the north of Assisi. He warned the Assisans of the peril run by the little company of friars with their sick father, and soldiers were immediately sent to escort them safely to the Bishop's Palace where St. Francis stayed until carried to the Portiuncula when he knew that he was dying.

They were sad days at Assisi when St. Francis was borne through the city blind and ill; and as he stretched out his hands to bless the people they bowed their heads and wept at the sight of so much suffering. Now that the end had come and they knew he lay safely in the little shrine of the Portiuncula, their mourning was changed into rejoicing, and as though they were preparing for a great festival, strange sounds of busy talk, of laughter and of singing were heard in the streets. Had a stranger found himself at Assisi that Sunday morning he might well have asked: "What victory have you gained to merit all this show of gladness, or what emperor are you going forth to greet?" And the answer would have been: "Francis, our saint, the son of Bernardone, returned to us when he was nigh to death, and now that he is dead we possess his body which will bring great honour and fame to our city by reason of the many miracles to be wrought at his tomb."

The sun had not yet risen when the Assisans left their houses and thronged down the hill to the Portiuncula to bring the precious burden to rest within the more certain refuge of their walled town. "Blessed and praised be the Lord our God who has entrusted to us, though unworthy, so great a gift. Praise and glory to the ineffable Trinity," they sang as they hurried along in the cold dawn. Trumpeters blew loud and discordant notes, nearly drowning the voices of the priests who vainly in the din tried to intone the canticles and psalms. The nobles came from their castles with lighted torches to join the procession, the peasants from the hills brought sprigs of olive, and those from the forests stripped the oaks of their finest branches which they waved above their heads, while children strewed the ground with flowers.

Amidst all this stirring show of joy a kindly thought had been taken of St. Clare and her nuns, so that when the body of St. Francis had been laid in a coffin, and the long line of friars, priests and townsmen turned to climb the hill, they took a path skirting just below the town, through the vineyards and olive groves, to the convent of San Damiano. The sound of chanting must have warned the watchers of their approach long before they came in sight. An artist has pictured the nuns like a flock of timid sheep in his fresco, trooping out of an exquisitely marbled chapel, with St. Clare endeavouring to suppress her grief as she bends over the dead Francis, while the sisters press close behind her. This is how it ought to have been; but, alas, only an iron lattice, through which the nuns were wont to receive the Holy Communion, was opened for them, and the friars lifting the body of St. Francis from the coffin, held it in their arms at the opening as one by one the nuns came to kiss the pierced hands. "Madonna Chiara's" tears fell fast as she gazed on him who had brought such joy into her cloistered solitude. "Oh father, father," she murmured, "what are we to do now that thou hast abandoned us unhappy ones? With thee departs all consolation, for buried here away from the world there is none to console us." Restraining the lamentations which filled her heart she passed like a shadow out of sight to her cell, and when all the sisters had bidden farewell to St. Francis, the small window was closed "never again to open upon so sad a scene."

The people, who until now had wept bitterly, began to sing again as the procession went on its way up the hill towards the Porta Mojano. The trumpets sounded louder than ever, and "with jubilation and great exultation" the sacred body was brought to the church of San Giorgio, where it was carefully laid in a marble urn covered with an iron grating, and guarded day and night from the prying eyes of the Perugians. If Francis had worked miracles during his life, those chronicled at his tomb are even more marvellous; in recounting some which read like fairy tales, a biographer recounts with pride that, "even from heaven, the Saint showed his courtesy to all."

Devotion to St. Francis was not confined to Umbria or even to Italy, for we read how his fame spread throughout France, and how the King and Queen with all the barons of the land, came to Paris to kiss one of his relics. "People journeyed from the east and from the west," enthusiastically exclaims Celano with a total disregard of detail, "they came from the north and from the south, even the learned and the lettered who abounded in Paris at that time."

But while France was being stirred by the news of perpetual miracles and prodigies wrought through the intercession of the saint, and Assisi in consequence was fast growing into a place of great importance in the world, Pope Gregory IX, who had been lately elected upon the death of Honorius III, spent many hours in the Cannonica at Perugia wrestling with his doubts concerning the truth of the greatest miracle of all, the miracle of the Stigmata. While in this state of uncertainty and perplexity St. Francis, the _Fioretti_ relates, appeared to him one night, and showed him the five wounds inflicted by the Seraph upon his hands, feet and side. The vision, it seems, dispelled all doubt from the mind of Pope Gregory, for in conclave with the cardinals he proclaimed the sanctity of his friend, the Poverello d'Assisi, and determined to set the final seal of the church upon his miracles and fame.

This vision was the prelude of a great ceremony held a few days later in San Giorgio for the canonisation of Francis, at which all Umbria seems to have been present. Pope Gregory, clothed in vestments of cloth of gold embroidered with precious stones, his tiara "almost as an aureole of sanctity about his head," sat stiffly on his pontifical throne like some carved image, surrounded by cardinals in crimson garments and bishops in white stoles. All eyes were fixed upon this splendid group, and it is not improbable that among the spectators stood Pietro Bernardone and Madonna Pica, and many who had reviled Francis in his early days of sanctity, and now, within two years of his death, witnessed him placed among the greatest of the saints. Gregory had prepared an eloquent address, which he delivered in a sonorous voice occasionally broken by sobs of emotion. Becoming more and more enthusiastic as he proceeded, he compared Francis to a full moon, a refulgent sun, a star rising above the morning mists, and when he had finished the pious homily, a sub-deacon read out a list of the saint's miracles, and a learned cardinal, "not without copious weeping," discoursed thereon, while the Pope listened, shedding "rivers of tears," and breaking forth every now and then into deep-drawn sighs. The prelates wept so devoutly that their vestments were in great part wet, and the ground was drenched with their tears. The ceremony ended when the Pope rose to bless the people, and intoned the _Te Deum_, in which all joined with such good will that the "earth resounded in great jubilee."

Had St. Francis foreseen how his humility would be rewarded? This we know, that he in part had realised how his order would slip away from his ideal, and there is a deep note of sadness in many pages of his life, showing us how fully he realised the pitfalls his disciples were likely to fall into when he was no longer there to watch over them with tender care. Often while he was absent for only a little time the brethren forgot his simple rule, building cells and houses too spacious and pretentious for the home of the Lady Poverty. This had been one of the signs to him that his earnest prayers to God, his example and admonitions to his followers, which come to us through his letters and the pages of Brother Leo like the cry of one who bravely fought against the inevitable, were all to be in vain. It is a tragic story, and rendered still more so by the fact that the Saint's last years should have been saddened by this knowledge of coming events.

Only a little while and the teaching of poverty and obscurity which he had so deeply implanted in the hearts of his followers was to be completely swept away; upon the ruins of that first franciscan order, guarded jealously for a time by a faithful few, arose the new franciscan spirit which Elias Buonbarone, inspired by the will of Gregory IX, brought into being almost before the echo of his master's words had died away. It is not for us in this small space to trace the many changes that crept into the young community, but we simply note as a fact, what to some may appear exaggerated, that the order St. Francis founded, and prayed would continue as he left it, ceased at his death, while the order that grew up afterwards bore the unmistakable stamp of Elias and the Vatican.

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The extraordinary humility of St. Francis gave rise to the myth that when he lay dying at the Portiuncula he expressed a strong desire to be buried in the most despised spot near Assisi, which, because criminals were said to have been executed there, bore the name of Colle del Inferno. It seems unlike him to have been concerned with what might become of "brother body" after death, and it was probably not until Gregory IX conceived the idea of building a church in honour of his friend, that a suitable burial-place was searched for near the walls of the town, if not actually within them, where the citizens could safely guard the precious relics. Everything favoured the designs of Gregory, for not only was he fortunate in finding a man like Elias, capable, prompt and energetic, but the one place suited for the erection of a great church, happened to be in the possession of a generous citizen of Assisi. No sooner were the wishes of the Pontiff made known than Simon Puzzarelli offered his land on the Collis Inferni, which from this time forward Gregory ordered to be called Collis Paradisi, the Hill of Paradise.[60]

A document, duly sealed and signed, is still in the Assisan archives, in which we read how the site for the building of "an oratory or church for the most holy body of St. Francis" was given over, in words that admitted of no withdrawal, to Elias as representative of the Lord Pope Gregory IX--"dedit, tradedit, cesset, delegavit et donavit simpliciter et irrevocabiliter." Now the use of the word _oratory_ is a remarkable fact as suggesting that at the beginning the Assisans little dreamed of the erection of a great basilica which would cast their cathedral entirely into the shade.

A few days after the ceremony of the canonisation of St. Francis, Pope Gregory, amid the usual crowd of Umbrian spectators, laid the foundation-stone of the franciscan basilica. Then being recalled by his Roman subjects, whom Assisan chroniclers describe as "a race of men most seditious and fierce," he was obliged to hurry south, leaving Elias to carry out his wishes as he thought best.

So far the task left to Elias was easy enough, for money was not lacking, and countless workmen were ready to begin the great enterprise; but the question of who should design a church upon the site chosen was a more difficult matter to settle, as Vasari tells us: "There was a great scarcity of good architects at this time, and the church, having to be built upon a very high hill, at the base of which flows a torrent called the Tescio, an excellent artist was required for the work. After much deliberation a certain Maestro Jacopo Tedesco was called to Assisi as being the best architect then to be found, and having examined the site, and consulted the wishes of the fathers, who were holding a Chapter in Assisi to discuss the matter, he designed the plan of a very beautiful church and convent."[61]

"Jacopo" is said to have come to Italy in the retinue of the Emperor Frederick II. Vasari recounts that the fame he gained all over Italy by his work at Assisi was so great that the Florentines summoned him to build them bridges and palaces, and "Jacopo," charmed with the Tuscan city, married and dwelt there. The citizens, following a custom which still continues in every Italian town, changed his name to Lapo, and he is revealed to us as father of the famous Arnolfo di Lapo, architect of the Florentine cathedral and of the Palazzo della Signoria. In the seductive pages of Vasari the account reads so pleasantly that it seems a pity later writers should have discovered that the story rests upon uncertain dates and legends. Vasari's endeavour to amalgamate three artists into one person, have forced many to the opposite extreme, until even the existence of "Jacopo Tedesco" is denied, and they are reduced to speak of _an_ architect who designed the church and convent of San Francesco.[62]

Such is the irony of fate, that while numerous documents remain giving the names of contractors and minor masons employed in the building there is absolutely no evidence or clue of any kind as to the architect employed by Elias. We can only suppose that the document relating to this and other interesting points in connection with the decoration of the church, must have been destroyed by the Perugians when they sacked Assisi under Jacopo Piccinino and burnt so many treasures in the archives. We are consequently at the mercy of local legends, which were no doubt recounted to Vasari by the Assisans themselves when he visited the town in the middle of the sixteenth century. But there is still the evidence of our own eye to help us to know something of the builder of San Francesco, the builder of the first Gothic church in Italy. We are told he was a German; but then we know from Mr Fergusson's Handbook of Architecture that Germans were only just awakening to the Gothic influences at the time of St. Francis's death, and, when they wished to build churches in the new style they called in French masons to help them. Was it therefore likely that Germany should have given the mysterious architect to Assisi? A church recalling the Assisan Basilica may be vainly searched for in Germany or in Lombardy and this further fact inclines us to believe in the theory of M. Edouard Corroyer.

Whether the man who conceived the original idea of raising one church above another flanked by a colonnaded convent on the spur of a great mountain was called Philip or James, or whether he came from a Lombard or a German province seems of small importance compared with the country where he learned his art. Even supposing "Jacopo" to have been a northern Italian from the home of the Comacine Guild of master masons, which is extremely likely, everything goes to prove that he must have drawn his inspiration for the Assisan Basilica straight from the south of France. What establishes the French parentage of San Francesco is the mode of construction, especially visible in the Upper Church, and which, as M. Corroyer says, "possesses all the characteristics peculiar to the French architecture in the south of France at the close of the thirteenth and the beginning of the fourteenth century, of which the Cathedral of Albi [in Aquitaine] is the most perfect type. The single nave, its buttresses projecting externally in the form of half turrets, add to the likeness of the Italian church of Assisi with that of Albi in France."[63] A glance at the illustrations of the two churches will bear this theory out better than many words; and it will be seen at once that had the half turrets between the bay windows of San Francesco been completed with pointed roofs and small lancet windows, as no doubt was the intention, the likeness would be even more striking.

Although "Jacopo" left a very substantial mark of his genius upon the Umbrian hill-side, he came and went like a shadow, leaving his designs and plans to be carried on by his young disciple Fra Filippo Campello, whom we shall meet with again in the chapter on Santa Chiara. Little, therefore, as we know of this earlier portion of its history, San Francesco at least remains to us in all its first prime and glory to tell its own tale, and endless should be the hymn of praise sung by the Assisans for the chance which brought so beautiful a creation within their walls.

It seems indeed strange that a style so new and so admired, was not more faithfully adhered to at a time when cathedrals and churches were being erected in every Italian city. Perhaps the Romanesque and Byzantine influences from the south so tempered the Gothic tendencies of Lombard architects, that they were unable to attain the true ideal, and succeeded only in creating a style of their own, to be found at Florence, Siena and Orvieto, known as Italian Gothic. Thus it happens that the Assisans are the proud possessors, not only of the first Gothic church built in Italy during the dawn of the new era, but of a church which is unique, as recalling less dimly than those of other cities the splendour of the northern cathedrals.

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The rapidity with which the Assisan Basilica progressed is one of the most wonderful results of the love inspired by St. Francis among mediæval Christians. The generosity of the Catholic world was so stirred that donations poured in without ceasing from Germany and France, and even from Jerusalem and Morocco. "Cardinals, bishops, dukes, princes, counts and barons," write the chroniclers, helped Elias in his work, while the people of Umbria, too poor to give money, came in numbers, out of the reverence they bore the Saint, to work for small and often for no wages. It was a busy time; and Assisi awoke to a sense of her importance. Under the vigilant eye of Elias, armies of masons and labourers worked as unremittingly as ants at a nest, while processions of carts drawn by white oxen, went ever to and fro upon the road leading to the quarries, bringing creamy-white, rose and golden-coloured blocks of Subasian stone.

This universal enthusiasm enabled Elias to complete the Lower Church in twenty-two months, while the Upper Church was roofed in six years later, and finished in all essential details by 1253. But while Elias was applauded by most people, a few of the franciscans, headed by Fra Leo, still clung to the letter of the franciscan rule, and bitterly disapproved of these innovations. They sorrowfully looked on at the army of workers, raising, as if by magic, walls and colonnades upon the hill-side and towers ever higher against the sky. They watched blocks of marble and stone being chiselled into cornices, friezes and capitals ornamented with foliage and flowers, until, with despair in their hearts, they slowly returned to their mud huts in the plain. The dreams of Francis were vanishing fast as the allegiance to the Lady Poverty diminished. Now her shrine existed only in the Carceri, in San Damiano and in the Portiuncula, where few sought her company, for all eyes were turned towards the new Basilica. The words of the Master, recorded faithfully in Leo's biography, were ever ringing in his ears: "Set a good hedge round in lieu of a wall, as a sign of holy poverty and humility ... build poor little cells of mud and wood, and other cells where at times the brethren may pray and work to the gain of virtue and the avoidance of sloth. Also cause small churches to be built; they ought not to raise great churches for the sake of preaching to the people, or for any other reason, for they will show greater humility and give a better example by going to preach in other churches. And if by chance prelates, clerics, religious or seculars should come to these abodes, the poor houses, the little cells and small churches will be better sermons and cause greater edification to them than many words."[64]

No wonder that Leo and his friends watched Elias at his work with no friendly eye, for between the mud huts which Francis had planned with so much simplicity, and the massive Basilica and palatial convent, stretched an infinite chasm, separating the old order from the new.

They were still more unhappy and scandalised when Elias, who had the full permission of Gregory IX. for this innovation, placed a marble vase outside San Francesco to receive the contributions of those anxious to see the church quickly finished. A curious account is given by a latin chronicler of the warfare which ensued between the standard-bearers of the new and the old franciscan spirit: "Some brothers of marvellous sanctity and purity went to Perugia to consult Brother Egidio, a good and pious man, concerning the erection of so large a building and the manner of collecting money, which seemed to be expressly against the rule. And Brother Egidio answered them: "If that building were to reach from Assisi to here [to Perugia] a little corner would suffice for me to dwell in." And they having asked him what he thought about the vase, he said, turning to Brother Leo: "If thou considerest thyself already dead [to the world and its persecutions] go and break it. But if thou livest, stay thy hand, for perchance thou mayest not be able to bear the persecution of that Brother Elias."[65] Hearing this, Brother Leo went with his companions and broke the vase to pieces. Then Brother Elias, hearing this, had them severely beaten by his servants, and drove them from Assisi in great confusion. For this reason a great tumult arose among the brethren. Because of these aforesaid excesses, and because Brother Elias threatened the complete destruction of the rule, when the brethren met in general Chapter they deprived him of the office of Vicar General, and unanimously elected Brother John of Florence [Giovanni Parenti]."[66]

But these murmurs were drowned in the din of public applause which enabled Elias to work in his own way, unscrupulously dispersing every difficulty without any reference to the rule of St. Francis.

He continued to be the presiding spirit at Assisi, and such was the success of his untiring energy that by the month of May 1230, the Lower Church of the Basilica was ready to receive the "most sacred body" of the Saint, while the magnificent quarters in the adjoining convent were ready for those friars who belonged to the moderate party, and approved of the new order of things.

Pope Gregory was unable to visit Assisi at this time owing to difficulties with his unruly Roman subjects, but he sent innumerable indulgences, golden crosses studded with precious stones containing relics of the true cross, vases of silver and gold, and a large sum of money for the further advancement of the building. These generous gifts were followed by a Brief, which in calmer moments the monks might have viewed with irritation, declaring both Basilica and convent to be immediately subject to the Holy See. The franciscan order was fast becoming a Papal institution, to be patronised and ruled by succeeding Pontiffs.

While Giovanni Parenti was preparing for the Conclave to be held in the spacious rooms of the new convent, the wily Elias was holding secret councils with the magistrates of the town as to ensuring the safe conduct of the body of St. Francis to the Basilica. The number of people continually arriving in anticipation of the coming ceremony made them somewhat uneasy, and their doubts were carefully discussed in the Communal Palace. They came to the conclusion that if the exact place of the saint's sepulchre was known, there would always be the danger of its being rifled by the citizens of neighbouring towns, especially by the Perugians, whose partiality for relics was well known. So a stratagem, most likely invented by the fertile brain of Elias, was decided upon and succeeded admirably.

The friars and citizens, unconscious of the plot hatched in their midst, were all eager for the day of the Translation. The Umbrians left their towns empty to assist at the great spectacle, and their number was so great, that, failing to find room within the walls of Assisi, they wandered like droves of cattle on the hills above trying to obtain a sight of the procession. It was a great day in the annals of Assisi; outside the little church of San Giorgio a triumphal car, drawn by a pair of magnificent oxen, their whiteness almost hidden beneath purple draperies and their horns wreathed and garlanded with flowers, stood waiting for the holy burden. Three Papal Legates and Elias placed the heavy sarcophagus with their own hands upon the car, covering it over with a piece of rich brocaded silk sent for the occasion by the mother of King Louis of France. They kept close to the car all the time, while the brethren, holding palms and torches, formed a long procession followed by the bishops and their clergy, and the Podestà with his retinue of crimson-robed priors. It was the month of May, and from every garden and terrace the nobles and their ladies showered flowers over the "sacred ark" as it was borne slowly up the street amidst the deafening sound of trumpets and the cheers of the populace. All that could be done to honour St. Francis had been thought of; Gregory IX. had even composed a hymn to be sung on that day in which the "Poverello" was compared to Christ. They were in the midst of the hymn of praise and quite close to the new Basilica when the heavy tramp of numerous armed men was suddenly heard; swiftly a passage was made through the crowd, who for the moment fell back amazed and powerless, while the soldiers hurried with the sarcophagus into the church, closely followed by Elias, who promptly shut and barred the door. After the first moment of surprise, a wild burst of indignation arose from the thousands who were thus deprived of a spectacle which they had come miles to see. They howled like wild beasts baulked of their prey, banging at the doors of the church in their fury; but silence reigned within, for Elias and his accomplices were stealthily engaged in hiding the body of St. Francis in the very bowels of the mountain, where for five centuries it remained unseen and undisturbed.

Till far into the night the people continued to murmur; the bewildered friars asked each other what this strange behaviour of Elias meant, and the only people who preserved any appearance of calmness were Messer il Podestà of Assisi and his priors, who smiled to see how well the plot had worked. It was not long before the scandal reached the ears of Pope Gregory. The enemies of Elias painted the story in glowing colours, and the Pope expressed himself greatly shocked at sacrilegious hands having been laid upon the holy body of the saint. He blamed the magistrates for allowing such a tumult to arise, and called upon them to give due explanation of their conduct within a fortnight at the court of Rome under pain of their city being laid under an interdict. The Pope's Brief caused consternation, and his accusations of their ingratitude for past favour rankled deeply. We are not told how the anger of the Pope was pacified, but no doubt both Elias and the Podestà explained satisfactorily the reasons for so strange a burial, as Assisi continued to enjoy the patronage of the Holy See. The efforts of Elias to ensure the safety of the body of St. Francis had been eminently successful, and Gregory could hardly fail to pardon the unusual manner in which this had been obtained.

Out of the mysterious events of that day of tumult grew a legend which lasted until the body of St. Francis was finally discovered five centuries later. It was believed that a church far surpassing the other two in grandeur and beauty had been built beneath them by Elias, and that St. Francis risen from his tomb stood in the midst, his hands crossed upon his breast, his head thrown back, gazing eternally towards the sky. The Umbrians, refusing to believe that their saint could suffer the common lot of mortals, loved to think of him as "almost alive," waiting for the last call, surrounded by the glorious beauty of a hidden church which they had never seen and only dimly pictured to themselves. Vasari refers to this "invisible church" described to him by the awe-struck citizens, when he mentions that "the tomb containing the body of the glorious saint is in the lowest church where no one enters, and whose doors are walled up"; and in the beginning of his description of the Basilica, he speaks of three ranges of buildings placed one above the other, the lowest of all being subterranean, which is curious as showing how closely he followed tradition regarding the Assisan church. Padre Angeli so unhesitatingly accepted the story that in his "Collis Paradisi" he drew from imagination a plan, together with a picture of the "invisible church." It represents a long vaulted hall somewhat recalling the architecture of the Upper Church, at the end of which is St. Francis standing upon his tomb in a recess corresponding to a kind of choir; the vaulted roof is supported by slender columns with chiselled capitals, and the walls and floor are ornamented with marbles and mosaic of different colours.

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To close this chapter without touching upon the career of Elias, who is at once the black sheep of the franciscan order and one of the greatest citizens of Assisi, would be impossible. Few have written calmly about him, trying either to exculpate him or blaming his actions too severely, so that it is difficult to obtain any just idea of the real motives which guided him in an ill-starred life. Elias was neither devil nor saint, though he possessed the energy of both and his marked and domineering character would have fitted him better for the world than for the cloister. Ambition seems to have been his chief fault, together with a certain proud reserve which kept him aloof from his companions. From the various references to him in the early biographies of St. Francis we feel the writers failed ever to come quite in touch with one so outside their lives, and whom they considered as a kind of Judas--for did he not betray the interests of the Master?

"Elias is an altogether different type of man from the simple-minded Francis," writes Mrs Oliphant, echoing the general opinion. "He is an ambitious and ascetic churchman, of the class which has pushed Rome into much power and many abuses--an almost conventional development of the intellectual monk, making up for compulsory humbleness in external matters by the highest strain of ecclesiastical ambition and spiritual pride."

But while all abused him, none doubted his very exceptional talents, and even in the _Fioretti_ he was accounted "one of the most learned men in the world," and St. Francis showed the great confidence he had in him by naming him Vicar-General after the death of Peter Cataneo. It was at a Chapter held in the wood by the Portiuncula that the saint expressed his desire to again resign the government of the order to another, and while Elias discoursed to the assembled friars St. Francis sat at his feet listening attentively to every word.[67] On the other hand, the saint was quite aware of his faults, and from the _Fioretti_, where Elias is pictured for artistic effect in strong colours as the wicked friar, we seem to realize the strain that often must have come between these two very different men. Thus we read that it being revealed to St. Francis that Elias was destined to lose his soul and bring dishonour on the order, he conceived such an antipathy towards him that he would even avoid meeting him, although at the time they were living in the same convent. The scene when Elias, discovering the reason of his displeasure, threw himself at the feet of the saint to implore his intercession with heaven reveals in the most touching way the great belief and reverence inspired by St. Francis in the heart of the least docile of his followers. "I have so great a faith in thy prayers," said Elias, "that were I in the midst of hell, and thou wert to pray to God for me, I should feel some relief; therefore again I pray thee to commend me, a sinner, unto God who came to save sinners that He may receive me into His mercy." And this did Brother Elias say with much devotion and many tears, so that St. Francis, like a pitying father, promised to pray to God for him. It will be seen how far the revelation of St. Francis came true, and the manner in which his prayer was answered.

So long as Elias remained under the influence of Francis his pride was tempered, and his ambition curbed, but when cast upon his own resources he gave full rein to the ideas which had no doubt been forming in his mind for some years past. Elias thought the franciscan order, if faithful to the Lady Poverty, would prove of small importance; and he therefore willingly leagued with Gregory IX. to mould it so that it should become a visible power upon the earth. The vision he conjured up with the sceptre in his own hand was very fair; and he failed to see why religion should not be served quite as well within the massive convent walls he had helped to rear, as when dwelling in a mud hut. He had too broad a mind to look closely to the detail of his rule; he only saw the broad outline of his master's teaching; and who can say whether after all he was not right? This we know, the mud huts have long since vanished, while thousands come each year to pray at the tomb of Francis within sight of Giotto's master-pieces. They sing aloud his praises, and as they pray and sing throw coppers and silver in heaps upon the altar steps, and pass out of the church into the sunlight again, knowing little of the lessons St. Francis spent his life in teaching.

But we must return again to Elias and his many troubles with the franciscan world. While patronized by Pope Gregory, he also seems to have had a strong party of monks on his side, probably those who had joined the Order during the last few years. Their names have not come down to us, and their personalities have merged in that of Elias who thus led them forward on a somewhat perilous way. They began by attempting to depose Giovanni Parenti while he was holding a Chapter in the new convent, a few days after the ceremony of the Translation of the body of St. Francis to the Basilica. His friars were gathered round him discussing the various missions to be undertaken, and the work that had been done during the past year, when the door was thrown open and a crowd of excited friars with Elias at their head appeared upon the threshold. Before anyone could realize what this strange apparition meant, Elias was borne rapidly along by his companions and installed in the seat of Giovanni Parenti, while a scene of indescribable tumult arose among those whose indignation had not yet cooled down after the events of the past week. It is said that St. Anthony of Padua was present at this conclave, and vainly tried to calm the excitement, but his voice was drowned in the clamour. At last, driven to despair, Giovanni Parenti began to cry aloud and tear his garments as one distraught; he could not have hit upon a better plan, for where words had failed this piece of dramatic acting produced an instantaneous effect. His friars formed a vanguard round him, acclaiming him Vicar-General as they beat back the intruders with hard blows and angry scowls. Elias, seeing the game was lost, threw himself on the ground, and with expressions of deep contrition implored forgiveness. He was pardoned, but banished to a distant hermitage, where humbled and sad he pondered for many months upon his next move. He allowed his hair and beard to grow to such a length that even his enemies began to believe his repentance was sincere, and only two years after his misconduct we find him elected Vicar-General in the place of his former rival, and, under the title of Guardian and Master of the Basilica and Convent, in full command of the works at San Francesco.

He now enjoyed a season of peace and plenty in the comfortable quarters of the franciscan convent, and is said to have gathered a household about him surpassing the splendour of a cardinal's court. Fra Illuminato di Rieti (afterwards Bishop of Assisi) acted as his secretary, writing numberless letters to "the Pope and the Princes of the World," for Elias was in correspondence with more than one crowned head and paid many visits to distant courts in quest of money for the Assisan Church. On these journeys he always went on horseback, and even when going from one church to another in Umbria, he was well mounted on a "fat and stout palfrey," to the intense scandal of some of the friars. "He also had secular servants," writes an indignant chronicler, "all dressed in divers colours like to those of bishops, who ministered to him in all things." His food was always good, and he had the reputation of keeping an excellent cook.

This peaceful and successful period of his life was of short duration, for he soon fell into dire trouble and disgrace. It was his misfortune to be sent by Pope Gregory, who trusted implicitly in his discretion and ability, on a mission to Frederic II, in the hopes of bringing the Emperor to a sense of his misdoings. A disciple of St. Francis seemed to be the right person to send as an emissary of peace; but instead of the orthodox humble and barefooted friar, we read of him as a very haughty personage, quite at his ease in the political world, then ringing with the angry cries of Guelph and Ghibelline.

No sooner had Elias reached the franciscan convent at Parma than the magnates of the city, aware of the errand he had come upon, assembled to do him honour. Fra Salimbene, who was present at the interview, describes how Elias waited for his visitors, his head swathed in an Armenian turban, and comfortably seated upon a soft chair drawn close to a huge fire. When Gherardo da Correggio, known as "Messer il Podestà of the big teeth," entered the room, Elias remained seated, and to the astonishment of all in no way disturbed himself for his illustrious guest. The Podestà very sensibly took no offence, but passed the matter over by expressing his wonder that the Vicar-General should have chosen so cold a season for his visit to Lombardy--a glance at the fire had told him that this franciscan friar liked comfort as much as most people.

There is no detailed account of the interview of Elias with the Emperor to inform us whether he behaved at it with the same easy familiarity; all we know is that Frederic, "the wonder of the world," and Elias, the Assisan friar, formed a friendship which lasted during the remainder of their lives, linking them together in a common fate. Whether Elias was won over from the first by the charm of so fascinating a personality, or simply baffled by a mind more subtle than his own, it is difficult to say, as the chroniclers have drawn too thick a veil over this unfortunate meeting for anyone to judge with fairness. His failure certainly gave a good opportunity to his many enemies to commence a very satisfactory scheme of blackening his character with the Pope; and the rumour flew to Rome that he was a traitor to his church. Branded with the abhorred name of Ghibelline there was now little hope for Elias, whose friendship with the arch-enemy of Holy Church grew always stronger. The Lombards becoming uneasy, accused Gregory of favouring the Emperor, while the latter bitterly complained that the Pope listened too much to the cause of the Lombards, and thought too little of the imperial dignity. At last a Chapter was called to enquire into the conduct of the Vicar-General, and as he was not present, his misdeeds lost nothing by the telling. Although Elias was deposed, and his place filled by a Pisan, he still held the title of Guardian and Master of the Assisan Basilica, but in a city of such strong Guelph sympathies as Assisi, it was unlikely he would be left in peace, especially as the Pope no longer favoured him. Life soon became impossible there, and of his own free will he retired to a hermitage in the woods of Cortona, followed by some dozen faithful friars, "not excepting," adds a spiteful chronicler, "Fra Bartolomeo da Padova, his most excellent cook." Thence he wrote to the Pope explaining his conduct, and humbly entreating to be pardoned, but the letter was found years afterwards in the pocket of the Pisan Vicar-General, who had promised to deliver it safely at Rome. Whether the letter was wilfully laid aside or only forgotten, none have been able to decide, but the incident had disastrous effects upon Elias. He waited anxiously for the pardon which never came, until embittered by finding himself deserted by nearly everyone, he openly joined the party of Frederic II. He went a step further, and abused Pope Gregory in caustic language, taunting him with injustice and avarice, and with being a simonist, which of course ended in his excommunication "to the great scandal of the Church." The news of his disgrace spread quickly through Italy, and the children sang a couplet, invented on the spur of the moment, under the windows of franciscan convents:

"Or'e attorno Frat'Elia Che pres'ha la mala via."

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.

FOOTNOTES:

[59] In the same way when Beato Egidio, ill and nigh his end, wished to return to the Portiuncula to die in the place he loved so well, the Perugians refused their consent and even placed soldiers round the monastery of Monte Ripido to prevent his escape.

[60] In the illustrations on p. 38 and p. 107 is shown the gallows erected where now stands the franciscan basilica, but it is unlikely that the property of a private individual should have been used for such a purpose, and Collis Inferni may simply have meant the spur of hill beneath the upper portion of Assisi upon which the castle stood.

[61] See Vasari, _Life of Arnolfo di Lapo_.

[62] It would be a thankless task to follow the bewildering maze of contradictory evidence which has enveloped the question as to who built San Francesco. Those who are eager to do so, however, can consult Henry Thode's exhaustive work, _Franz von Assisi_ (beginning p. 187), which deals most thoroughly with the subject. Leader Scott also, in her learned book upon _The Cathedral Builders_, gives some ingenious theories with regard to "Jacopo" and his supposed relationship with Arnolfo, p. 315-316.

Another book is _I Maestri Comacini_, by Professore Marzario, whose statements about "Jacopo's" nationality are interesting and probable. But, following Vasari a little too blindly, he gives us the startling fact that "Jacopo" died in 1310, this, even supposing him to have been only twenty-five when he was at Assisi as chief architect, would make him one hundred and fifteen years of age at the time of his death.

[63] _L'Architecture Gothique_ par M. Edouard Corroyer. See pp. 96 and 105.

[64] _Speculum Perfectionis._ Edited by Paul Sabatier, cap. x.

[65] For the Latin text see p. c. of M. Paul Sabatier's introduction to his edition of the _Speculum Perfectionis_.

[66] Giovanni Parenti, who does not stand out very clearly in the history of the Order, was a Florentine magistrate of Città di Castello, one of the first towns to feel the influence of St. Francis. There he heard of the new movement which so rapidly was spreading throughout Western Europe, and, together with many of the citizens, became converted through the teaching of the Umbrian saint.

[67] It is impossible in this small book to give any idea of the various influences at work upon the young franciscan order during the life of the saint. I can only refer my readers to the charming pages of M. Paul Sabatier, who gives us a vivid picture of these early days in _La Vie de Saint François_, and in his introduction to the _Speculum Perfectionis_.