CHAPTER XXI
THE WORLD OF SALIMBENE
At the close of this long survey of the saintly ideals and actualities of the Middle Ages, it will be illuminating to look abroad over mediaeval life through the half mystic but most observant eyes of a certain Italian Franciscan. The Middle Ages were not characterized by the open eye. Mediaeval Chronicles and Vitae rarely afford a broad and variegated picture of the world. As they were so largely the work of monks, obviously they would set forth only what would strike the monastic eye, an eye often intense with its inner vision, but not wide open to the occurrences of life. The monk was not a good observer, commonly from lack of sympathy and understanding. Of course there were exceptions; one of them was the Franciscan Salimbene, an undeniable if not too loving son of an alert north Italian city, Parma.
Humanism springs from cities; and it began in Italy long before Petrarch. North of the Alps there was nothing like the city life of Italy, so quick and voluble, so unreticent and unrestrained, open and neighbourly—neighbours hate as well as love! From Cicero's time, from Numa's if one will, Italian life was what it never ceased to be, urban. The city was the centre and the bound of human intercourse, almost of human sympathy. This was always true; as true in those devastated seventh, eighth, and ninth centuries as before or after; certainly true of the tenth and eleventh centuries when the Lombards and other Teuton children of the waste and forest had become good urban Italians. It was still more abundantly true of the following centuries when life was burgeoning with power. Whatever other cause or source of parentage it had, humanism was a city child. And as city life never ceased in Italy, that land had no unhumanistic period. There humanism always existed, whether we take it in the narrower sense of love of humanistic, that is, antique literature, or take it broadly as in the words of old Menander-Terence: "homo sum, humani nil a me alienum."
Now turn to the close of the twelfth century, and look at Francis of Assisi. It is his humanism and his naturalism, his interest in men and women, and in bird and beast as well, that fills this sweet lover of Christ with tender sympathy for them all. Through him human interest and love of man drew monasticism from its cloister, and sent it forth upon an unhampered ministry of love. Francis (God bless him!) had not been Francis, had he not been Francis of Assisi.
A certain gifted well-born city child was five years old when Francis died. It was to be his lot to paint for posterity a picture of his world such as no man had painted before; and in all his work no line suggests so many reasons for the differences between Italy and the lands north of the Alps, and also so many why Salimbene happened to be what he was, as this remark, relating to his French tour: "In France only the townspeople dwell in the towns; the knights and noble ladies stay in their villas and on their own domains."
Only the townspeople live in the towns, merchants, craftsmen, artisans—the unleavened bourgeoisie! In Lombardy how different! There knights and nobles, and their lovely ladies, have their strong dwellings in the towns; jostle with the townspeople, converse with them, intermarry sometimes, lord it over them when they can, hate them, murder them. But there they are, and what variety and colour and picturesqueness and illumination do they not add to city life? If a Lombardy town thronged with merchants and craftsmen, it was also gay and voluptuous with knights and ladies. How rich and fascinating its life compared with the grey towns beyond the Alps. In France the townspeople made an audience for the Fabliaux! The Italian town had also its courtly audience of knight and dame for the love lyrics of the troubadour, and for the romances of chivalry. In fact, the whole world was there, and not just workaday,
sorry, parts of it.
Had it not been for the full and varied city life in which
he was born and bred, the quick-eyed youth would not have
had that fund of human interest and intuition which makes
him so pleasant and so different from any one north of the
Alps in the thirteenth century. A city boy indeed, and
what a full personality! He was to be a man of human
curiosity, a tireless sight-seer. His interest is universal; his
human love quick enough—for those he loved; for he was
no saint, although a Minorite. His detestation is vivid,
illuminating; it brings the hated man before us. And
Salimbene's wide-open eyes are his own. He sees with a
fresh vision; he is himself; a man of temperament, which
lends its colours to the panorama. His own interest or
curiosity is paramount with him; so his narrative will naïvely
follow his sweet will and whim, and pass from topic to topic
in chase of the suggestions of his thoughts.
The result is for us a unique treasure-trove. The story
presents the world and something more; two worlds, if you
will, very co-related: macrocosmos and microcosmos, the world
without and the very eager ego, Salimbene. There he is
unfailingly, the writer in his world. Scarcely another
mediaeval penman so naïvely shows the world he moves
about in and himself. Let us follow, for a little, his autobiographic chronicle, taking the liberty which he always took,
of selecting as we choose.
In the year 1221 Salimbene was born at Parma, into
the very centre of the world of strife between popes and emperors—a world wherein also the renewed Gospel was
being preached by Francis of Assisi, who did not die till five
years later. But St. Dominic died the year of Salimbene's
birth. Innocent III., most powerful of popes, had breathed
his last five years before, leaving surviving him that viper-nursling of the papacy, Frederick II., an able, much-experienced youth of twenty-two. Frederick was afterwards
crowned emperor by Honorius III., and soon showed
himself the most resourceful of his Hohenstaufen line of arch-enemies to the papacy. This Emperor Frederick, whom
Innocent III., says Salimbene, had exalted and named "Son
of the Church" … "was a man pestiferous and accursed, a
schismatic, heretic, and epicurean, who corrupted the whole
earth."
Salimbene's family was in high regard at Parma, and
the boy naturally saw and perhaps met the interesting
strangers coming to the town. He tells us that when he
was baptized the lord Balianus of Sydon, a great baron of
France, a retainer of the Emperor Frederick's, "lifted me
from the sacred font." The mother was a pious dame, whom
Salimbene loved none too well, because once she snatched up
his infant sisters to flee from the danger of the Baptistery
toppling over upon their house during an earthquake, and
left Salimbene himself lying in his cradle! The father had
been a crusader, and was a man of wealth and influence.
So the youth was born into a stirring swirl of life.
These vigorous northern Italian cities hated each other
shrewdly in the thirteenth century. When the boy was
eight years old a great fight took place between the folk
of Parma, Modena, and Cremona on the one side, and that
big blustering Bologna. Hot was the battle. On the
Carrocio of Parma only one man remained; for it was
stripped of its defenders by the stones from those novel
war-engines of the Bolognese, called manganellae. Nevertheless
the three towns won the battle, and the Bolognese turned
their backs and abandoned their own Carrocio. The
Cremona people wanted to drag it within their walls; but
the prudent Parma leaders prevented it, because such action
would have been an insult forever, and a lasting cause of war with a strong enemy. But Salimbene saw the captured
manganellae brought as trophies into his city.
Other scenes of more peaceful rejoicing came before his
eyes; as in the year 1233, he being twelve years old.
That was a year of alleluia, as it was afterwards called,
"to wit a time of peace and quiet, of joy, jollity and merry-making, of praise and jubilee; because wars were over. Horse and foot, townsfolk and rustics, youths and virgins, old and young, sang
songs and hymns. There was such devotion in all the cities of
Italy. And I saw that each quarter of the city would have its
banner in the procession, a banner on which was painted the figure
of its martyr-saint. And men and women, boys and girls, thronged
from the villages to the city with their flags, to hear the preaching, and praise God. They had branches of trees and lighted candles. There was preaching morning, noon, and evening, and stationes arranged in churches and squares; and they lifted their hands to God to praise and bless Him forever. Nor could they cease, so drunk were they with love divine. There was no wrath among them, or disquiet or rancour. Everything was peaceful and benign; I saw it with my eyes."
And then Salimbene tells of all the famous preachers, and
the lovely hymns, and Ave Marias; Frater So-and-so, from
Bologna; Frater So-and-so from somewhere else; Minorite
and Preaching friar.
One might almost fancy himself in the Florence of
Savonarola. Like enough this season of soul outpour and
tears and songs of joy first stirred the religious temper of
this quickly moved youth. These were also the great days
of dawning for the Friars. Dominic was not yet sainted;
yet his Order of the Preaching Friars was growing. The
blessed Francis had been canonized; sainted had he been
indeed before his death! And the world was turning to
these novel, open, sympathetic brethren who were pouring
themselves through Europe. Love's mendicancy, envied but
not yet discredited, was before men's eyes and in men's
thoughts; and what opportunity it offered of helping people,
of saving one's own soul, and of seeing the world! We can
guess how Salimbene's temper was drawn by it. We know
at least that one of these friars, Brother Girard of Modena,
who preached at this jubilee in Parma, was the man who made petition five years later for Salimbene, so that the
Minister-General of the Minorites, Brother Elias, being then
at Parma, received the seventeen-year-old boy into the
Order, in the year 1238.
Salimbene's father was frantic at the loss of his heir.
Never while he lived did he cease to lament it. He at once
began strenuous appeals to have his son returned to him.
Salimbene's account of this, exhibits himself, his father, and
the situation.
"He complained to the emperor (Frederick II.), who had come
to Parma, that the brothers Minorites had taken his son from him.
The emperor wrote to Brother Elias that if he held his favour dear,
he should listen to him and return me to my father. Then my
father went to Assisi, where Brother Elias was, and placed in his
hands the emperor's letter, which began: 'In order to mitigate the
sighs of our faithful Guido de Adam,' and so forth. Brother
Illuminatus, Brother Elias's scribe, showed me this letter long
afterwards, when I was with him in the convent at Siena.
"When the imperial letter had been read, Brother Elias wrote
at once to the brethren of the convent at Fano, where I dwelt, that
if I wished it, they should return me to my father without delay;
but that if I did not wish to go with my father, they should guard
and keep me as the pupil of his eye.
"A number of knights came with my father to Fano, to see the
end of my affair. There was I and my salvation made the centre
of the spectacle. The brethren were assembled, with them of the
world; and there was much talk. My father produced the letter of
the minister-general, and showed it to the brothers. When it was
read, Brother Jeremiah, who was in charge of me, answered my
father in the hearing of all: 'Lord Guido, we sympathize with your
distress, and are prepared to obey the letter of our father. Behold,
here is your son; he is old enough; let him speak for himself.
Ask him; if he wishes to go with you, let him in God's name; if
not, we cannot force him.'
"My father asked me whether I wished to go with him or not.
I replied, No; because the Lord says, 'No one putting his hand to
the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God.'
"And father said to me: 'Thou carest not for thy father and
mother, who are afflicted with many griefs for thee.'
"I replied: 'Truly I do not care, because the Lord says, Who
loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. But of
thee He also says: Who loveth son or daughter more than me is
not worthy of me. Thou oughtest to care, father, for Him who
hung on the cross for us, that He might give us eternal life. For it is himself who says: I am come to set a man against his father,
and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law
against her mother-in-law. And a man's foes are they of his
household.'
"The brethren wondered and rejoiced that I said such things
to my father. And then my father said: 'You have bewitched and
deceived my son, so that he will not mind me. I will complain
again of you to the emperor and to the minister-general. Now let
me speak with my son apart from you; and you will see him follow
me without delay.'
"So the brothers allowed me to talk with him alone; for they
began to have a little confidence in me, because of my words. Yet
they listened behind the wall to what we should say. For they
trembled as a reed in water, lest my father should alter my mind
with his blandishments. And not for me alone they feared, but
lest my return should hinder others from entering the Order.
"Then my father said to me: 'Dear son, don't believe those
nasty tunics who have deceived you; but come with me, and I
will give you all I have.'
"And I replied: 'Go away, father. As the Wise Man says in
Proverbs, Thou shall not hinder him to do right, who is able.'
"And my father answered with tears, and said to me: ’What
then, son, shall I say to thy mother, who is afflicted because of
thee?'
"And I say to him: 'Thou shalt tell her from me; thus says
thy son: My father and mother have forsaken me, and the Lord
hath taken me up; also (Jer. iii.): Thou shalt call me Father, and
walk after me in my steps.… It is good for a man when he has
borne the yoke from his youth.'
"Hearing all these things my father, despairing of my coming
out, threw himself down in the presence of the brethren and the
secular folk who had come with him, and said: 'I give thee to a
thousand devils, cursed son, thee and thy brother here who has
deceived thee. My curse be on you forever, and may it commend
you to the spirits of hell.' And he went away excited beyond
measure; while we remained greatly comforted and giving thanks
to our God, and saying to each other, 'They shall curse, and thou
shalt bless.' Likewise the seculars retired edified at my constancy.
The brethren also rejoiced seeing what the Lord had wrought
through me, His little boy."
This whole scene presents such a conflict as the
thirteenth century witnessed daily, and the twelfth, and
other mediaeval centuries as well. The letters of St. Bernard set forth situations quite as extreme or outrageous,
from modern points of view. And Bernard can apply (or
shall we say, distort?) Scripture in the same drastic fashion.
But these monks meant it deeply; and from their
standpoint they were in the right with their quotations. The
attitude goes back to Jerome; that a man's father and
mother, and they of his own household, may be his worst
enemies, if they seek to hinder his feet set toward God.
Of course we can see the sensible, worldly, martial father
of the youth leap in the air and roll on the ground in rage;
flesh and blood could not stand such turn of Scripture:
Tell my weeping mother (who so longs for me) that I say my father and mother have forsaken me, and the Lord hath taken me up! This came to the Lord Guido as a maddening gibe; but Salimbene meant simply that his parents did
not care for his highest welfare, and the Lord had received
him into the path of salvation. It is all a scene, which
should evoke our serious reflections—after which it may be
permitted us to enjoy it as we will.
In his conscience Salimbene felt justified; for a dream set the seal of divine approval on his conduct.
"The Blessed Virgin rewarded me that very night. For it seemed to me that I was lying prostrate in prayer before her altar,
as the brothers are wont when they rise for matins. And I heard
the voice of the Blessed Virgin calling me. Lifting my face, I saw
her sitting above the altar in that place where is set the host and
the calix. She had her little boy in her lap, and she held him out
to me, saying: 'Approach without fear and kiss my son, whom
yesterday thou didst confess before men.' And when I was afraid,
I saw that the little boy gladly stretched out his arms. Trusting
his innocence and the graciousness of his mother, I drew near,
embraced and kissed him; and the benign mother gave him to me
for a long while. And when I could not have enough of it, the
Blessed Virgin blessed me and said: 'Go, beloved son, and lie
down, lest the brothers rising from matins find thee here with us.'
I obeyed, and the vision disappeared; but unspeakable sweetness
remained in my heart. Never in the world have I had such
bliss."
From this we see that Salimbene had sufficient mystic
ardour to keep him a happy Franciscan. It made the
otherworldly part of one who also was a merry gossip among his fellows. An inner power of spiritual enthusiasm and fantasy
accompanied him through his life, giving him a double point
of view: he looks at things as they are, with curiosity and
interest, and ever and anon loses himself in transcendental
dreams of Paradise and all at last made perfect.
Although the father had devoted his son to a thousand
devils, he did not cease from attempts, by persuasion and
even violence, to draw him back into his own civic and
martial world. So the young man got permission from the
minister-general to go and live in Tuscany, where he might
be beyond the reach of parental activities. "Thereupon I
went and lived in Tuscany for eight years, two of them at
Lucca, two at Siena, and four at Pisa." He gained great
comfort from converse and gossip of an edifying kind, as he
fell in with those loving enthusiasts who had received their
cloaks from the hand of the blessed Francis himself. At
Siena he saw much of Brother Bernard of Quintavalle who
had been the very first to receive the dress of the Order from
the hand of its founder. Salimbene gladly listened to his
recollections of Francis, who in this venerable disciple's words
might seem once more to walk the earth.
Yet Salimbene, still young in heart and years, could
readily take up with the companionship of the ne'er-do-well
vagabonds who frequently attached themselves, as lay brothers,
to the Franciscan Order. He tells of a day's outing with
one of whose character he is outspoken but without personal
repugnance:
"I was a young man when I dwelt at Pisa. One day I went out begging with a certain lay brother, a good-for-nothing. He was a Pisan, and the same who afterwards went and lived with the brothers at Fixulus, where they had to drag him out of a well which he had jumped into from some foolishness or desperation. Then he disappeared, and could not be found. The brothers thought the devil had carried him off. However that may have been, this day at Pisa he and I went with our baskets to beg bread, and chanced to enter a courtyard. Above, all about, hung a thick, leafy vine, its freshness lovely to see and its shade sweet for resting in. There were leopards there and other beasts from over the sea, at which we gazed long, transfixed with delight, as one will at the sight of the novel and beautiful. Girls were there also and boys at
their sweetest age, handsome and lovely, and ten times as alluring
for their beautiful clothes. The boys and girls held violas and
cytharas and other musical instruments in their hands, on which
they made sweet melodies, accompanied with gestures. There was
no hub-bub, nor did any one talk; but all listened in silence. And
the song which they chanted was so new and lovely in words
and melody as to gladden the heart exceedingly. None spoke to
us v nor did we say a word to any one. They did not stop singing
and playing so long as we were there—and long indeed we lingered
and could scarcely take ourselves away. God knows, I do not, who
set this joyful entertainment; for we had never seen anything like
it before nor could we ever find its like again."
From the witchery of this cloud-dropped entertainment
Salimbene was rudely roused as he went out upon the public
way.
"A man met me, whom I did not know, and said he was from
Parma. He seized upon me, and began to chide and revile:
'Away scamp, away,' he cried. 'A crowd of servants in your
father's house have bread enough and meat; and you go from
door to door begging bread from those without it, when you have
enough to give to any number of beggars! You ought to be riding
on a war-horse through Parma, and delighting people with your skill
with the lance, so that there might be a sight for the ladies, and
comfort for the players. Now your father is worn with grief and
your mother from love of you, so she despairs of God.'"
Salimbene fended off this attack of carnal wisdom with
many texts of Scripture. Yet the other's words set him to
thinking that perhaps it would be hard to lead a beggar's life
year after year until old age. And he lay awake that night,
until God comforted him as before with a reassuring dream.
Pretty dreamer as he was, Salimbene can often tell a
ribald tale. There was rivalry, as may be imagined, between
the Dominicans (solemnes praedicatores) and the Minorites.
The former seem occasionally to have concerted together so
as to have knowledge of what their friends in other places
were about. Then, when preaching, they would exhibit
marvels of second sight, which on investigation proved true!
A certain Brother John of Vicenza was a Dominican famed
for preaching and miracles perhaps, and with such overtopping
sense of himself that he went at least a little mad. Bologna
was his tarrying-place. There a certain Florentine grammarian, Boncompagnus, tired of the foolery, made gibing
rhymes about him and his admirers, and said he would do a
miracle himself, and at a certain hour would fly with wings
from the pinnacle of Sta. Maria in Monte. All came together
at that hour to see. There he stood aloft, with his wings,
ready, and the folk expectant, for a long time—and then he
bade them disperse with God's blessing, for it was enough
for them to have seen him. They then knew that they had
been fooled!
None the less the dementia of Brother John increased, so
that one day at the Dominican convent in Bologna he fell
in a rage because when his beard was cut the brothers did
not preserve the hairs as relics. There came along a
Minorite, Brother God-save-you, a Florentine like
Boncompagnus, and like him a great buffoon and joker. To this
convent he came, but refused all invitation to stay and eat
unless a piece of the cloak of Brother John were given him,
which was kept to hold relics. So they gave him a piece of
the cloak, and after dinner he went off and befouled it, folded
it up, and called for all to come and see the precious relics
of the sainted John, which he had lost in the latrina. So
they flocked to see, and were somewhat more than satisfied.
No need to say that this Salimbene had a quick eye for
beauty in both men and women; he is always speaking of
so-and-so as a handsome man, and such and such a lady as
"pulcherrima domina," of pleasing ways and moderate
stature, neither too tall nor too short. But one may win a
more amusing side-light on the "eternal womanly" in his
Chronicle, from the following: "Like other popes, Nicholas
III. made cardinals of many of his relatives. He made a
cardinal of one, Lord Latinus, of the Order of Preachers
(which we note with a smile, and expect something funny).
He appointed him legate to Lombardy and Tuscany and
Romagnola." Note the enactments of this cardinal-legate:
"He disturbed all the women with a 'Constitution' which he promulgated, to wit, that the women should wear short dresses reaching to the ground, and only so much more as a palm's breadth.
Formerly they wore trains, sweeping the earth for several feet (per brachium et dimidium). A rhymer dubs them:
'Et drappi longhi, ke la polver menna.'
('The long cloaks that gather up the dust.')
"And he had this to be proclaimed in the churches, and
imposed it on the women by command; and ordered that no
priest should absolve them unless they complied. The which was
bitterer to the women than any kind of death ! For as a woman
said to me familiarly, that train was dearer to her than all the other clothes she wore. And further, Cardinal Latinus decreed that all women, girls and young ladies, matrons and widows, should wear
veils. Which was again a horror for them. But they found a remedy for that tribulation, as they could not for their trains. For they made veils of linen and silk inwoven with gold, with which they looked ten times as well, and drew the eyes of men to lust all the more."
Thus did the cardinal-legate, the Pope's relative. And
plenty of gossip has Salimbene to tell of such creatures of
nepotism. "Flesh and blood had revealed" to the Pope
that he should make cardinals of them; says he with a sort
of giant sneer; "for he built up Zion in sanguinibus," that is,
through his blood-relatives!" There are a thousand brothers
Minorites, more fit, on the score of knowledge and holiness,
to be cardinals than they." Had not another pope, Urban
IV., made chief among the cardinals a relation whose only
use as a student had been to fetch the other students' meat
from market?
It was a few years after this that Salimbene returned to
his native town of Parma, near the time when that city
passed from the side of the Emperor to that of the Pope.
This was a fatal defection for Frederick, which he set about to
repair, by laying siege to the turn-coat city. And the war
went on with great devastation, and the wolves and other
wild beasts increased and grew bold. Salimbene throws
Eccelino da Romano on the scene, that regent of the emperor,
and monster of cruelty, "who was feared more than the
devil," and had once burned to death "eleven thousand
Paduans in Verona. The building holding them was set on
fire; and while they burned, Eccelino and his knights held
a tournament about them (circa eos).… I verily believe that as the Son of God desired to have one special friend,
whom He made like to himself, to wit the blessed Francis,
so the devil fashioned Eccelino in his likeness."
Salimbene tells of the siege of Parma at much length,
and of the final defeat of the emperor, with the destruction
of the stronghold which he had built to menace the city, and
of all his curious treasures, with the imperial crown itself
taken by the men of Parma and their allies. But before
this, while the turmoil of the siege was at its height, in 1247,
he received orders to leave Parma and set out for Lyons,
where Innocent IV. at that time held his papal court, having
fled from Italy, from the emperor, three years before.
Setting out, he reached Lyons on All Saints Day.
"At once the Pope sent for me, and talked with me familiarly
in his chamber. For since my leaving Parma he had received
neither messenger nor letters. And he thanked me warmly and
listened to my prayers, for he was a courtly and liberal man; …
and he absolved me from my sins and appointed me preacher!"
Our autobiographic chronicler was at this time twenty-six
years old; his personality bespoke a kind reception
everywhere. He soon left Lyons, and went on through the
towns of Champagne to Troyes, where he found plenty of
merchants from Lombardy and Tuscany, for there were
markets there, lasting two months. So was it also in
Provins, the next halting-place; from which Salimbene went
on to Paris. There he stayed eight days and saw much
which pleased him; and then, going back upon his tracks,
he took up his journey to Sens, where he dwelt in the
Franciscan convent, "and the French brethren entertained
me gladly, because I was a friendly, cheerful youth, and
spoke them fair." From Sens he went south to Auxerre,
the place which had been named as his destination when he
left Parma. It was in the year 1248, and as he writes
(how many years after?) there comes back to him the
memory of the grand wines of Auxerre:
"I remember when at Cremona (in 1245) Brother Gabriel of that place, a Minorite, a great teacher and a man of holy life, told me that Auxerre had more vines and wine than Cremona and Parma and Reggio and Modena together. I wouldn't believe him.
But when I came to live at Auxerre, I saw that he spoke the truth.
It is a large district, or bishopric, and the mountains, hills, and
plains are covered with vines. There they neither sow nor reap
nor gather into barns; but they send their wine by river to
Paris, where they sell it nobly; and live and clothe themselves
from the proceeds. Three times I went all about the district with
one or another of the brothers: once with one who was preaching
and affixing crosses for the Crusade of the French king (St. Louis);
then with another who preached to the Cistercians in a most
beautiful monastery; and the third time we spent Easter with a
countess, who set before the whole company twelve courses of food,
all different. And had the count been at home, there would have
been a still greater abundance and variety. Now in four parts of
France they drink beer, and in four, wine. And the three lands
where the wine is most abundant are La Rochelle, Beaune, and
Auxerre. In Auxerre the red wine is least regarded and is not as
good as the Italian. But Auxerre has its white or golden wines,
which are fragrant and comforting and good, and make every one
drinking them feel happy. Some of the Auxerre wine is so strong
that when put in a jug, drops appear on the outside (lacrymantur exterius). The French laugh and say that three b's and seven f's
go with the best wine:
'Le vin bon et bel et blanc,
Fort et fer et fin et franc,
Freit et fres et fourmijant.'
"The French delight in good wine—no wonder! since it
'gladdens God and men.' Both French and English are very
diligent with their drinking-cups. Indeed the French have blear
eyes from drinking overmuch; and in the morning after a bout,
they go to the priest who has celebrated mass and ask him to drop a
little of the water in which he has washed his hands into their eyes.
But Brother Bartholomew at Provins has a way of saying it would
be better for them if they would put their water in their wine
instead of in their eyes. As for the English, they take a measure
of wine, drink it out, and say: 'I have drunk; now you'—meaning
that you should drink as much. And this is their idea of politeness;
and any one will take it very ill if the other does not follow his
precept and example."
While Salimbene was living at Auxerre, in the year
1248, a provincial Chapter of the Franciscan Order was held
at Sens, with the Minister-General, John of Parma, presiding.
Thither went Salimbene.
"The King of France, St. Louis, was expected. And the
brothers all went out from the house to receive him. And Brother
Rigaud, of the Order, Archbishop of Rouen, having put on his
pontifical trappings, left the house and hurried toward the king,
asking all the time, 'Where is the king? where is the king?'
And I followed him; for he went alone and frantically, his mitre on
his head and pastoral staff in hand. He had been tardy in dressing
himself, so that the other brothers had gone ahead, and now lined
the street, with faces turned from the town, straining to see the
king coming. And I wondered, saying to myself, that I had read
that these Senonian Gauls once, under Brennus, captured Rome;
now their women seemed a lot of servant girls. If the King of
France had made a progress through Pisa or Bologna, the whole
élite of the ladies of the city would have met him. Then I
remembered the Gallic way, for the mere townsfolk to dwell in the
towns, while the knights and noble ladies live in their castles and
possessions.
"The king was slender and graceful, rather lean, of fair height,
with an angelic look and gracious face. And he came to the
church of the brothers Minorites not in regal pomp, but on foot in
the habit of a pilgrim, with wallet and staff, which well adorned his
royal shoulder. His own brothers, who were counts, followed in
like humility and garb. Nor did the king care as much for the
society of nobles as for the prayers and suffrages of the poor.
Indeed he was one to be held a monarch, both on the score of
devotion and for his knightly deeds of arms.
"Thus he entered the church of the brethren, with most devout
genuflections, and prayed before the altar. And when he left the
church and paused at the threshold, I was next to him. And
there, on behalf of the church at Sens, the warden presented him
with a huge live pike swimming in water in a tub made of firwood,
such as they bathe babies in. The pike is dear and highly prized
in France. The king returned thanks to the sender as well as to
the presenter of the gift. Then he requested audibly that no one,
unless he were a knight, should enter the Chapter House, except the
brethren, with whom he wished to speak. When we were met in
Chapter, the king began to speak of his actions and, devoutly
kneeling, begged the prayers and suffrages of the brethren for himself, his brothers, his lady mother the queen, and all his companions.
And certain French brothers, next to me, from devotion and piety
wept as if unconsolable. After the king, Lord Oddo, a Roman
cardinal, who once was chancellor at Paris, and now was to cross
the sea with the king, arose and said a few words. Then on behalf of the Order, John of Parma, the Minister-General, spoke fittingly, promising the prayers of the brethren, and ordaining
masses for the king; which, thereupon, at the king's request he
confirmed by a letter under his seal.
"Afterwards, on that day, the king distributed alms and dined
with the brethren in the refectory. There were at table his three
brothers, a cardinal of the Roman curia, the minister-general,
and Brother Rigaud, Archbishop of Rouen, and many brethren.
The minister-general, knowing what a noble company was with the
king, had no mind to thrust himself forward, although he was asked
to sit next the king. So to set an example of courtliness and
humility, he sat among the lowest. On that day first we had
cherries and then the very whitest bread; there was wine in
abundance and of the best, as befitted the regal magnificence.
And after the Gallic custom many reluctant ones were invited and
forced to drink. After that we had fresh beans cooked in milk,
fish and crabs, eel-pies, rice with milk of almonds and powdered
cinnamon, broiled eels with excellent sauce; and plenty of cakes
and herbs, and fruit. Everything was well served, and the service
at table excellent.
"The following day the king resumed his journey, and I
followed him, as the Chapter was over; for I had permission to go
and stay in Provincia. It was easy for me to find him, as he
frequently turned aside to go to the hermitages of the brothers
Minorites or some other religious Order, to gain their prayers. And
he kept this up continually until he reached the sea and took ship
for the Holy Land.
"I remember that one day I went to a noble castle in Burgundy,
where the body of the Magdalene was then believed to be. The
next day was Sunday; and early in the morning came the king to
ask the suffrages of the brethren. He dismissed his retinue in the
castle, from which the house of the brothers was but a little way.
The king took his own three brothers, as was his wont, and some
servants to take care of the horses. And when genuflections and
reverences were duly made, the brothers sought benches to sit on.
But the king sat on the earth in the dust, as I saw with my eyes.
For that church had no pavement. And he called us, saying:
'Come to me, my sweetest brothers, and hear my words.' And we
made a circle about him, sitting with him on the earth; and his
own brothers likewise. And he asked our prayers, as I have been
saying. And when promise had been given him, he rose and went
his way."
Is not this a picture of St. Louis, pilgrimaging from
convent to convent, to make sure of the divine aid, and
trusting, so far as concerned the business of the Holy Land, quite as much in the prayers of monks as in the deeds of
knights? We have hardly such a vivid sight of him in
Joinville or Geoffrey of Beaulieu.
After this scene, the king proceeded on his way, to
make ready for his voyage, and Salimbene went to Lyons,
then down the Rhone to Aries, then around by sea to
Marseilles, and thence to Areae, the present Hyères, which
lies near the coast. Here to his joy he met with Brother
Hugo of Montpellier whom he was seeking, the great
"Joachite," the great clerk, the mighty preacher and resistless disputer, whom he had not forgotten since the days,
long before, when he had been in Hugo's company and
listened to his preaching at Siena. Even then, Minorites,
Dominicans, and all men, had flocked to hear this small dark
man, who seemed another Paul, as he descanted on the
marvels of Paradise and the contempt one should feel for
this world; but especially those Franciscans delighted in
his preaching who were of the "spiritual" party, which
sought to follow strictly the injunctions of the blessed
Francis, and also cherished the prophesies of the enigmatical
Joachim of Flora. To this Joachim was ascribed that long
since vanished but much-bespoken Evangelium eternum,
which appears to have been written years after his death
under the auspices of John of Parma, Minister-General of
the Franciscan Order.
There was heresy in this book, with its doctrine of a still
unrevealed, but everlasting Gospel of the Holy Ghost.
Until its appearance the genuine utterances of Joachim were
not prescribed, consisting as they did of prophecies, for
example, as to the life of that monster Frederick II., and of
denunciations of the pride and worldliness of ecclesiastics.
Thus they fell in with the enthusiasms of the "spiritual"
Franciscans, who still lived in an ecstasy of love and
anticipation; in the coming time some of them were to be
dubbed Fratricelli, and under that name be held as heretics.
John of Parma was, of course, a "Joachite"; and "I was
intimate with him," says Salimbene, "from love and because
I seemed to believe the writings of Abbot Joachim of the Order of the Flower." John was likewise a friend (so strong
a bond was the belief in the holy but over-prophetic Joachim)
of Hugo of Montpellier, of whose manner and arguments
we shall now let Salimbene speak.
"Once Hugo came from Pisa to Lucca, where the brothers had
invited him to come and preach. He arrived at the hour for setting
out for the cathedral service. And there the whole convent was
assembled to accompany him and do him honour, and from desire
to hear him too. And he wondered, seeing the brothers assembled
outside of the convent door, and said: 'Ah God! what are they
going to do?' The reply was, that they were there to do him
honour, and to hear him. But he said: 'I do not need such
honour, for I am not pope. If they wish to hear, let them come
after we have got there. I will go ahead with one companion, and
I will not go with that band.'"
Hugo was worshipped by his admirers, and hated by
those whom he disagreed with or denounced. Aside from
his disputations in defence of Joachim, a sample of which
will be given shortly, one can see what hate must have
sprung from such invective as Salimbene reports him once to
have addressed to a consistory of cardinals at Lyons, where
the Pope then held court. Here is the story, quite too
harsh for the respectable editors of the Parma edition of the
Chronaca:
"The cardinals inquired of Brother Hugo for news (rumores). So he reviled them, as asses, saying: 'I have no news, but a plenitude of peace in my conscience and before my God, who surpasses sense and keeps my heart and mind in Christ Jesus my Lord. I know that ye seek after news, and wait idle the live-long day. For ye are Athenians and not disciples of Christ. Of whom Luke says in the Acts: For all the Athenians and the strangers which were there had time for nothing else but to tell or hear some new thing. The disciples of Christ were fishers and weak men according to the world, but they converted the whole earth because the hand of the Lord was with them. They set forth and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them. But ye are those who build up Zion in blood (i.e. consanguinity) and Jerusalem in iniquity. For you choose your little nephews and relations for the benefices and dignities of the Church, and you exalt and make rich your clan, and shut out men good and fit who would be useful to the Church, and you prebendate children in their cradles. As a certain mountebank well has said: If with an accusative you would go to the Curia, you'll take nothing if you don't start with the dative! And
another says, the Roman Curia cares not for a sheep without wool.' "
And with such like, Hugo continues a considerable space.
"Hearing these things the cardinals were cut to the heart and
gnashed their teeth at him. But they had not the hardihood to
reply; for the fear of the Lord came over them and the hand of the
Lord was with him. Yet they wondered that he spoke to them so
boldly; and finally it seemed best to them to slip out and leave
him, nor did they question him, saying, as the Athenians to Paul:
'We will hear thee again of this matter.'"
Hugo's invective is outdone by Salimbene's closing scorn.
And now (to return to Salimbene's journey) here at
Hyères in the year 1248 many notaries and judges, and
physicians and other men of learning, were assembled to
hear Brother Hugo speak of the Abbot Joachim's doctrines,
and expound Holy Scripture, and predict the future. "And
I was there to hear him; for long before I had been instructed
in these teachings." But there came two Preaching friars,
and abode at the Franciscan house, since the Dominicans
had no convent at Hyères. One was Brother Peter of
Apulia, a learned man and a great speaker. After dinner a
brother asked him what he thought of Abbot Joachim. He
answered: "I care as much for Joachim as for the fifth
wheel of a coach."
Thereupon this brother hurried to Hugo's chamber, and
exclaimed in the presence of all the notables there: "Here
is a brother Preacher who does not believe that doctrine
at all."
To whom Brother Hugo: "And what is it to me if he
does not believe? Be it laid at his door; he will see it
when trouble shall enlighten him. Yet call him to debate;
let us hear of what he doubts."
So, called, he came, very unwillingly, because he held
Joachim so cheaply, and besides thought there was no one
in that house fit to dispute with him. When Brother Hugo
saw him he said: "Art thou he who doubts the doctrine of
Joachim?"
Brother Peter replied: "Indeed I am."
Then said Brother Hugo: "Hast thou ever read
Joachim?"
Replied Brother Peter: "I have read and well read."
To whom Hugo: "I believe thou hast read as a woman
reads the Psalter, who does not remember at the end what
she read at the beginning. Thus many read and do not
understand, either because they despise what they read, or
because their foolish heart is darkened. Now, therefore, tell
me what thou wouldst hear as to Joachim, so that we may
better know thy doubts."
Thereupon there is question back and forth regarding
the Scripture proofs of Joachim's prophecies, for instance,
those relating to Frederick's reign. Brother Hugo dilates on
Joachim's holiness; explains the dark Scripture references,
and brings in the prophecies of Merlin, anglicus vates, and
talks of the allegorical, anagogical, tropological, moral and
mystical, senses of Scripture. The discussion waxes hot.
Peter begins to beat about the bush (discurrere per ambages),
and declares it to be heretical to quote an infidel like Merlin.
At which Hugo answers: "Thou liest, as I will prove
multipliciter; for the writings of Balaam, Caiaphas, Merlin,
and the Sybil are not spurned by the Church: 'The rose
gives forth no thorn, although the thorn's daughter.'"
Peter then turns to the sayings of the saints and the
philosophers. But as Hugo was doctissimus in these, he at
once twists him up and finishes him (statim involvit eum et conclusit et). Hereupon Peter's brother Preacher, an old
priest and a good, sought to come to his aid. But Peter
said, "Peace, be still." For Peter knew himself vanquished,
and began to praise Brother Hugo for his manifold wisdom.
"At this moment came a messenger from the ship's captain, bidding the brothers Preachers hurry, and go aboard. When they had left, Brother Hugo said to the learned men remaining, who had heard the debate: 'Take it not for evil, if we have said some things which ought not to have been said; for disputants often roam the fields of licence. Those good men glory in their knowledge, and speak what is found in their Order's fount of wisdom, which is the Word of God. They also say that they travel among simple folk
when they pass through the places of the brothers Minorites,
where they are ministered to with loving charity. But by the grace
of God these two shall no longer be able to say they have walked
among the simple.'
"His auditors dispersed, edified and comforted, saying, We have
heard wonderful things to-day. Later, that same day, the brothers
Preachers returned, to our delight, for the weather proved unfit for
sailing. After dinner, Brother Hugo conversed with them familiarly,
and Brother Peter sat himself on the earth at Brother Hugo's feet;
nor was any one able to make him rise and sit on the bench on the
same level with him, not even when Brother Hugo himself besought
him. So Brother Peter, no longer disputing or contradicting, but
meekly listening, heard honied words spoken by Brother Hugo, and
worthy to be set down, but omitted here for brevity's sake, as I
hasten to record other things."
So Salimbene passes on, both in his Chronicle and in his
journey, but though his steps lead deviously through the
cities of Provence, they bring him back once more to Hyères
and Hugo, at whose feet he sits and listens for a season in
rapt admiration.
After this happy season, Salimbene returned to Genoa,
and from that time on spent his life among the Franciscan
brotherhoods of Italy. Henceforth his Chronicle is chiefly
occupied with those wretched unceasing wars of northern
Italy, Imperialists against Papists, and city against city—and with the affairs of the Franciscan Order. The story is
now less varied, yet not lacking in picturesque qualities; and
through it all we still see the man himself, although the
man, as life goes on, seems to become more of a Franciscan
monk, and less of an observer of human life. But he
continues naïve. Thus he tells that one time, with some
companions, he came to Bobbio, that famous book-lovers'
foundation of St. Columban, in the mountains north of
Genoa: "and there we saw one of those water-pots of the
Lord, in which the Lord made wine from water at the
marriage at Cana, for it is said to be one of those: whether
it is, God knows, to whom all things are known and open
and naked."
And again, some one brings him news of the state of France in the year 1251, when King Louis was a captive in
Africa; and thus he tells it:
"In this year a countless crowd of shepherds came together in
France, saying that they would cross the sea to kill the Saracens
and free the King of France. Many followed from divers cities of
France, and no one dared stop them. For their leader said it was
revealed to him of God that he must lead that multitude across
the sea to avenge the King of France. The common folk believed
him, and were enraged against the religious, especially the Preachers,
because they had preached the Crusade and had 'crossed' men
who were sailing with the king. And the people were angry at
Christ, so that they dared blaspheme His blessed name. And
when the Minorites and Preachers came seeking alms in His name,
they gnashed their teeth at them and in their sight turned and gave
the sou to some other beggar, saying, 'Take this in Mahomet's
name, who is stronger than Christ.'"
Of those Italian wars—rather feuds, vengeances, and
monstrosities of hate—Salimbene can tell enough. He
gives a ghastly picture of the fate of Alberic da Romano,
brother of Eccelino, and tyrant indeed of Treviso.
"There he lorded it for many years; and cruel and hard was
his rule, as those know who experienced it. He was a limb of the
devil and a son of iniquity, but he perished by an evil death with
his wife and sons and daughters. For those who slew them tore
off the legs and arms from their living bodies, in their parents'
sight, and with them struck the parents' faces. Then they bound
the wife and daughters to stakes, and burned them; they were
noble, beautiful virgins, nor in any way in fault. But their innocence
and beauty did not save them, because of the hatred for the father
and mother. Terribly had these afflicted the people of Treviso.
So they came upon Alberic with tongs and ———"—
the sentence is too horrid for translation. But the
chronicler goes on to tell that they destroyed his body
amid gibes and insults and torments.
"For he had killed a blood-relative of this one, and that one's father, son or daughter. And he had laid such taxes and exactions
on them, that they had to destroy their houses. The very walls and beams and chests and cupboards and wine-vats they put in boats and sent to Ferrara to sell them and redeem themselves. I saw those with my eyes. Alberic pretended to be at war with his brother Eccelino, so as to do his evil deeds more safely; and he
did not hold his hand from the slaughter of citizens and subjects.
One day he hanged twenty-five prominent men of Treviso, who had
done him no ill; because he feared they would! And thirty noble
women, mothers, wives and daughters of these, were brought there
to see them hanging; and he had these women stripped half naked,
that those who were hanging might see them so. The men were
hanged quite close to the ground; and he forced these women to
go so close that their faces were struck by the legs and feet of those
who were dying in anguish."
Such was the kind of devil-madness that might walk
abroad in Italy in the Middle Ages. Let us relieve our
minds by a story our friend tells of a certain boy placed in
a Franciscan convent in Bologna, to become a monk.
"When asleep he snored so mightily, that no one could have
peace in the same house with him, so horribly did he disturb those
who slept as well as those who were at their vigils. And they made
him sleep in the shed where wood and staves were stored, but even
then the brothers could not escape, so did that voice of malediction
resound through the whole place. And all the priests and wise-acres among the brothers met in the director's chamber, to eject
him from the Order because of his insupportable offence: I was
there. It was decided to return him to his mother, who had
deceived the Order, since she had known his defect before letting
him go. But he was not returned to his mother, for the Lord
performed a miracle through Brother Nicolas [a holy brother
through whom God had worked other miracles as well]. This
brother seeing that the boy was to be expelled for no fault,
but for a natural defect, called him at daybreak to assist at mass.
When the mass was finished, the boy as commanded knelt before
him, back of the altar, hoping to receive some grace. Brother
Nicolas touched his face and nose with his hands, in the wish to
confer health upon him, if the Lord would grant it, and commanded
him to keep this secret. What more? The boy at once was
cured, and after that slept as quietly as a dormouse without
annoying any brother."
Thus we have this Chronicle, rambling, incoherent,
picturesque, with its glimpses of all this pretty world, for
which our Salimbene, despite his cowl, has an uncloistered
eye—its keenness for incident and circumstance undeflected
by the inner sight with which it could also look on the invisible world. When Brother Salimbene was young and
an enthusiastic Joachite, a strong motive of his wish to live
on in the flesh was to see whether those prophecies regarding
Frederick came true. Alas! for this purpose he lived too
long: Frederick died before the prophecies were fulfilled, and
with his death honest Salimbene had to put from him his
darling trust in the words of Abbot Joachim of the Order of
the Flower.
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