HOW is it that Dante assigned one of the most conspicuous places in his Paradise to a visionary, one of whose most important writings had been solemnly condemned by Innocent III at the great Lateran Council, and thought worthy of an elaborate refutation by St. Thomas Aquinas? It is not sufficient to say that Dante claimed in his poem an unusual liberty of private judgment; for three popes had patronized Joachim even in his lifetime; and, strangest of all, his most dangerous speculations were never definitely condemned, even after they had been pushed to what seems their only legitimate conclusion, in a book which raised a storm throughout Latin Christendom. The real explanation of so strange a paradox is to be found in that comparative freedom of thought which makes the 13th century, especially in Italy, so living a period in the history of the pre-reformation Church. Dante, in fact, caused as little scandal by promoting Joachim to a high place in heaven as by degrading a canonized pope, Celestine V, to one of the most contemptible corners of the lower regions. The rigid framework and the inexorable discipline of the modern Roman Church are mainly the work of the Counter-Reformation; and the records of the 13th century show us, beneath much orthodox intolerance, an irrepressible diversity of religious life which in many essential respects reminds us rather of Anglicanism. The Church, as it embraced the whole population, embraced also every type of mind, from the most superstitious to the most agnostic: and many of these unorthodox elements worked far more freely, under the cloak of outward conformity, than is generally supposed. Almost all variations of opinion were tolerated, so long as their outward expression was fairly discreet: partly, no doubt, because the machinery of repression was as yet imperfect; but partly also because there was too much life and growth to be easily repressed. It was far less dangerous to hint that Rome was the Scarlet Woman, as Joachim did; or again (with certain friars 151 of whom Eccleston tells us), to debate in the Schools “whether God really existed,”1 than to wear publicly and pertinaciously a frock and cowl of any but the orthodox cut. Joachim’s book against Peter Lombard was condemned as a public attack on a pillar of the Schools; his evolutionary speculations were treated leniently because any other course would have enabled the secular clergy to triumph over the Friars, and no pope could afford to lose the support of the two Orders.
The story of the Abbot Joachim is admirably told by Renan, Gebhart, Tocco, Father Denifle, and Dr. Lea: a summary of these by Miss Troutbeck appeared in the Nineteenth Century for July 1902. Born about 1132 in Calabria, where Roman religious ideas were leavened with Greek and even Saracen elements: by turns a courtier, a traveller, an active missionary and a contemplative hermit, he has been claimed with some justice as a sort of St. John Baptist to the Franciscan movement: and he may be called with almost equal truth its St. John the Divine also. The hateful and notorious corruption of the Church, which impelled Francis to found his Order, had previously driven Joachim into an attempt to interpret the world’s history in the light of Scripture. He found the solution of present evils in a theory of gradual decay and renewal, elaborated from St. Augustine’s philosophy of history. The visible church, in Joachim’s system, was no temple of stone, but a shifting tabernacle in this worldly wilderness; pitched here to-night, but destined to be folded up with to-morrow’s dawn, and carried one stage onward with an advancing world. As Salimbene puts it (466); “he divides the world into a threefold state; for in the first state the Father worked in mystery through the patriarchs and sons of the prophets, although the works of the Trinity are indivisible. In the second state the Son worked through the Apostles and other apostolic men; of which state He saith in John ‘My Father worketh until now, and I work.’ In the third state the Holy Ghost shall work through the Religious.” In other words, the first state of the Church was taught by the Father through the Old Testament; the second state by the Son through the New Testament; the third state (which may be said in one sense to have begun with St. Benedict) shall be taught by the Holy Spirit. Not that the Old and New Testaments are to be abrogated, or that a new Bible shall be revealed; but that men’s eyes shall be opened by the Spirit to see a new revelation in the time-honoured scriptures — an Eternal Gospel, proceeding from the Old and New Testaments as its Author the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son. And to these threefold 152 stages of inspiration correspond three orders of missionaries; first, the patriarchs and prophets: secondly, the Apostles and their successors the clergy: the third era of the Church shall be an era of hermits, monks, and nuns, not superseding the present hierarchy, but guiding it into new ways. Further, like nearly all the prophets of this age, Joachim argued from the corruption of the then world to the imminence of Antichrist, of the Battle of Armageddon, and of all the convulsions foretold in the Apocalypse as preceding the Reign of the Saints.
It is obvious how these prophecies would be caught at by all who felt deeply the miseries caused by the wars between Pope and Emperor; and how to all good Guelfs Frederic would seem a very sufficient Antichrist. The Friars, too, had every reason to welcome prophecies of a millennium to be heralded by new Orders of surpassing holiness and authority: and the spiritual Franciscans especially found in Joachism the promise of a reign of glory after their bitter persecutions of the present time. Here therefore was plenty of material for a great conflagration, to which the match was set by one of Salimbene’s friends, Gerard of Borgo San Donnino. Appointed professor of theology at Paris about 1250, he published four years later an Introduction to the Eternal Gospel, containing one of Joachim’s best-known works, with a preface and notes of his own. The work created an instant sensation, and was eagerly read by the laity. The saintly John of Parma, General of the Franciscans and himself a strong Joachite, certainly took no steps to punish the writer, and was himself often credited with the authorship. But the University of Paris, delighted to find a handle against the unpopular friars, took the matter up. There seems no doubt that this book pressed Joachim’s theories to the antisacerdotal conclusions which they would seem legitimately to bear, but which Joachim himself had studiously avoided. Gerard regarded the sacraments as transitory symbols, to be set aside under the reign of the Holy Ghost; and he predicted that the Abomination of Desolation should be a simoniacal pope shortly to come — a prediction of which many saw the fulfilment forty years later in Boniface VIII. Gerard was further accused, we cannot tell now with what justice, of seeing in St. Francis a new Christ who was to supersede the Christ of the Second Age. Speculations like this, published in the very Schools of Paris, could not be allowed to pass uncondemned: and the matter was brought in 1255 before a Papal Commission: Gerard’s work was condemned and suppressed, and exists at present only in the extracts singled out by his accusers. This event, as we have seen, brought about the fall of John of 153 Parma. Yet, all through this storm, Joachim’s own prophecies were never condemned; the whole affair was hushed up as quietly as possible, not only for the sake of the Franciscan Order, but because there were so many others who had long held Joachim for a prophet, feeling with him that traditional Christianity was a failure, and that an altogether new world was needed for its renewal. The immense popularity of his prophecies — which were quoted as authoritative by Roman Catholic divines even in the 17th century — goes far to explain many of the strangest religious phenomena recorded by Salimbene. He himself believed to the end in Joachim as a prophet, even after he had long given up Joachism in the strictest sense.
He had received his first tinge of Joachism from Hugues de Digne at Siena, and was confirmed in this creed at Pisa by an Abbot of the Order of Fiore, and by his own Franciscan Lector there. Again, at the very beginning of these his wander-years, in December 1247, he had been brought under the immediate influence of the future author of the notorious “Introduction.” (237) “When King Louis was on his first passage to succour the Holy Land, and I dwelt at Provins, there were two brethren wholly given to Joachism, who essayed all they could to draw me to that doctrine. Whereof one was Brother Bartolommeo Giscolo, of my own city of Parma, a courteous and spiritual man, but a great talker and a great Joachite, and devoted to the Emperor’s party. He was once Guardian in the Convent of Capua: he was most active in all his works. In the world he had taught grammar, but in our Order he knew to copy, to illuminate, to compose writings, and to do many other things. In his lifetime he did marvels, and in his death he worked still more marvellously; for he saw such things when his soul went forth from his body, that all the Brethren present were in admiration. The other was Brother Gerardino of Borgo San Donnino, who had grown up in Sicily, and had taught grammar, and was a well-mannered youth, honest and good, save for this one thing, that he persevered too obstinately in Joachim’s doctrine, and clung so to his own opinion that none could move him. These two lay hard upon me that I should believe the writings of Abbot Joachim and study in them; for they had Joachim’s exposition on Jeremias1a and many other books. And when the King of France in those days was preparing to cross the seas with other Crusaders, they mocked and derided, saying that he would fare ill if he went, as the event showed afterwards. And they showed me that it was thus written in Joachim’s exposition on Jeremias, and therefore that we must expect its fulfilment. 154 And whereas throughout the whole of France all that year men sang daily in their conventual Masses the psalm ‘O God, the heathens are come into thy inheritance,’ yet these two scoffed and said in the words of Jeremiah ‘ “Thou hast set a cloud before thee, that our prayer may not pass through”; for the King of France shall be taken, and the French shall be conquered in war, and many shall be carried off by the plague.’ Wherefore they were made hateful to the Brethren of France, who said that these evil prophecies had been fulfilled on the former Crusade. There was at that time in the convent of Provins a Lector named Brother Maurice, a comely man, and noble, and most learned, who had studied much, first in the World, at Paris, and then eight years in our Order. He had lately become my friend, and he said to me: ‘Brother Salimbene, have no faith in these Joachites, for they trouble the Brethren with their doctrines; but help me in writing, for I would fain make a good Book of Distinctions, which will be most useful for preachers.’
“Then the Joachites separated of their own free will; for I went to dwell at Auxerre, Brother Bartolommeo to dwell in the convent of Sens, Brother Gerardino was sent to Paris to study for the Province of Sicily, on behalf of which he had been received into the Order. And there he studied four years, and thought out his folly, composing a book, and publishing it abroad without the knowledge of the Brethren. And because for this book’s sake the Order was evil-spoken of both at Paris and elsewhere, therefore the aforesaid Gerardino was deprived of his offices of Lector and Preacher, and of the power of hearing confessions, and of all priestly powers. And because he would not amend himself and humbly acknowledge his fault, but with wayward obstinacy persevered in his headstrong contumacy, therefore the Brethren cast him into prison and bonds, feeding him with bread of affliction and water of distress. Yet not even then would this wretch withdraw his obstinate purpose; but he suffered himself to die in prison, and was deprived of the burial of the Church and buried in a corner of the garden. Let all know, therefore, that due rigour of justice is kept among us against all that transgress: wherefore one man’s fault is not to be imputed to the whole Order.2
“So when in the year of our Lord 1248 I was at Hyères with Brother Hugh (seeing that I was curious of the teaching of Abbot Joachim, and gladly heard him, applauding and rejoicing with him,) he said to me, ‘Art thou infatuated as those who follow this doctrine?’ For they are indeed held infatuated by many, since although Abbot Joachim was a holy man, yet he had three 155 hindrances to his doctrine. The first was the condemnation of that book which he wrote against Master Peter Lombard, whom he charged with heresy and madness. The second was that he foretold tribulations of come, which was the cause why the Jews slew the Prophets, for carnal men love not to hear of tribulations to come. The third hindrance came from men who believed in him, but who would fain forestall the times and seasons which he had prescribed: for he fixed no certain terms of years though some may think so. Rather, he named several terms, saying, ‘God is able to show His mysteries yet more clearly, and they shall see who come after us.3 ’
“Now when I saw that judges and notaries and other learned men were gathered together in Brother Hugh’s chamber to hear him teach the doctrine of Abbot Joachim, I remembered Eliseus, of whom it is written ‘But Eliseus sat in his house, and the ancients sat with him.’ In those days there came two other Joachites of the convent of Naples, whereof one was called Brother John the Frenchman, the other Brother Giovannino Pigolino of Parma. These had come to Hyères to see Brother Hugh and hear him speak on this Doctrine. Then also came two Friars Preachers returning from their General Chapter at Paris, whereof the one was called Brother Peter of Apulia, the Lector of their Order at Naples, and a learned man and a great talker; and he was waiting a fit time to sail. To him one day after dinner said Brother Giovannino, who knew him very well, ‘Brother Peter, what thinkest thou of the doctrine of Abbot Joachim?’ To which he answered, ‘I care as little for Joachim as for the fifth wheel of a waggon; for even Pope Gregory in one of his homilies believed that the end of the world would come almost in his own time, since the Lombards had come in his days and were destroying all things.’ Brother Giovannino therefore hastened to Brother Hugh’s chamber, and in the presence of those aforesaid men said to him, ‘Here is a certain Friar Preacher who will have nothing of this doctrine.’ To whom Brother Hugh said, ‘What is that to me? To him shall it be imputed. Let him look to it when “vexation alone shall make him understand what he hears.” Yet call him to disputation and I will hear his doubts.’ So he came, but unwillingly, for he despised Joachim, and deemed that there were none in our convent to be compared with himself in learning or in knowledge of the Scriptures. Brother Hugh said to him, ‘Art thou he who doubts of the doctrine of Joachim?’ Brother Peter answered, ‘I am he indeed.’ ‘Hast thou then read Joachim?’ ‘I have read him,’ said he, ‘with care.’ ‘Yea,’ said Brother Hugh, ‘I believe thou 156 hast read him as a woman her Psalter, who when she is come to the end knows and remembers no word of that which she read at the beginning. So many read without understanding, either because they despise what they read, or because their foolish heart is darkened. Tell me now what thou wouldest hear of Joachim.’ To whom Brother Peter answered, ‘Prove me now by Esais, as Joachim teacheth, that the life of the Emperor Frederick must be ended in seventy years (for he liveth yet): and that he cannot be slain but by gGd — that is, by no violent, but by a natural death.’ To whom Brother Hugh said, ‘Gladly; but listen patiently, and with no declamations or cavils, for in the matter of this doctrine it behoveth to listen with faith.’ ” Here follows a discussion so long that I am compelled reluctantly to omit by far the greater part of it: though it contains one most interesting anecdote of the Saint (240). “As to the holiness of Joachim’s life, beyond what is to be read in his Legend, I can cite one example wherein his admirable patience is shown. Before he was made Abbot, when he was a subordinate and private person, the refectorer was wroth against him, and for a whole year long always filled his jug with water to drink, wishing to keep him on the bread of affliction and water of distress; all which he bore patiently and without complaint. But when at the end of the year he was sitting beside the Abbot at table, the Abbot said to him, ‘Wherefore drinkest thou white wine, and givest none to me? Is that thy courtesy?’ To whom the holy Joachim answered, ‘I was ashamed, Father, to invite you, for “my own secret to myself.” ’ Then the Abbot taking his cup, and wishing to prove him, tasted thereof, and saw that his merchandise was not good. So, when he had tasted this water not turned to wine, he said, ‘And what is water but water?’ And he said to him, ‘By whose leave drinkest thou such drink?’ And Joachim answered, ‘Father, water is a sober drink, which neither tieth the tongue, nor bringeth on drunkenness, nor maketh men to babble.’ But when the Abbot had learnt in the Chapter-house that this injury and vengeance had been done of the malice and rancour of the refectorer, he would have driven him forth from the Order, but Joachim fell at the Abbot’s feet, and prayed him until he spared to expel that lay-brother from the Order. Yet he reviled and rebuked him hard and bitterly, saying, ‘I give thee for a penance that thou drink nought but water for a whole year long, as thou hast dealt unjustly with thy neighbour and brother.’ ” This story (of which Prof. Holder-Egger gives a different and less picturesque version from Joachim’s biographer Luke of Cosenza) was well worth recording: but the rest of this 157 long episode is chiefly interesting for the light it throws on medieval methods of theological discussion, which closely resemble those of the tavern disputants in Janet’s Repentance. Brother Hugh is as mercilessly rhetorical as Lawyer Dempster; and to Salimbene, as to Mr. Budd, the consideration that his hero had “studied very hard when he was a young man” and was always ready to answer any question on any subject without the least hesitation, entirely outweighs the fact that the event had proved him altogether wrong — for Frederick was now long since dead, at an age considerably short of the prophetical seventy years. Brother Hugh’s methods, though every whit as reasonable as those of world-famed controversialists like St. Bernardino of Siena and St. James of the Mark, would carry but little conviction to-day. In vain did the sceptical Dominican ask for more real evidence, and protest against Merlin and the Sibyl being quoted as final authorities: in vain did he “turn to the original words of the Saints and to the sayings of the philosophers”: for “therein Brother Hugh entangled and involved him forthwith; since he was a most learned man. Then Brother Peter’s comrade who was a priest and an old and good man, began to help him, but Brother Peter cried to him ‘Peace! Peace!’ So when Brother Peter found himself conquered, he turned to commend Brother Hugh for his manifold wisdom. And when the aforesaid words had been ended, behold suddenly the shipman’s messenger came for the Preachers, telling them to go hastily to the ship. So after their departure, Brother Hugh said to the remaining learned men who had heard the disputation, ‘Take it not for an ill example if we have said some things which we should not have said; for they who dispute of presumptuous boldness are wont to run hither and thither over the field of licence.’ And Brother Hugh added ‘These good men always boast of their knowledge, and say that in their Order is the foundation of wisdom. They say also that they have passed among unlearned men when they have passed through the convents of the Friars Minor, wherein they are charitably and diligently entertained. But by God’s grace they shall not say this time that they have passed among men of no learning, for I have done as the Wise Man teacheth “Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he imagine himself to be wise.” ’ So the layfolk departed much edified and consoled, saying ‘We have heard marvels to-day; but on the Feast following we would hear somewhat of the teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ.’ To whom Brother Hugh said, ‘If I be still alive I will receive you gladly, and therefore come indeed.’ Moreover, that same day the Friars Preachers returned and solaced themselves with us, for 158 they had no fit weather to sail. And after supper Brother Hugh was familiar with them, and Brother Peter seated himself on the ground at his feet, nor was there any who could make him rise and sit on a level bench with him — no, not even Brother Hugh himself, though he prayed him instantly. Moreover Brother Peter, now no longer disputing or contradicting, but humbly listening, heard the honeyed words which Brother Hugh spake, (which indeed would be worthy to be related here, but I omit them for brevity’s sake, for I hasten to other things.) Then Brother Peter’s comrade said to me in private, ‘For God’s sake, tell me who is that Brother, whether he is a prelate — a Guardian, a Custos, or a Minister?’ To whom I said, ‘He has no prelacy, for he will have none. Once he was a Minister-Provincial, but now he is a private person, and he is one of the greatest clerks of the world, and is so esteemed by all who know him.’ Then said he to me, ‘In good truth I believe it, for never did I see a man who speaketh so well, and is so ready in all knowledge. But I wonder wherefore he dwelleth not in great convents.’4 To whom I said, ‘By reason of his humility and sanctity, for he is more comforted to dwell in little houses.’ Then said he, God’s blessing light on him, for he seemeth all heavenly.’ And after many commendations on both sides, the Friars Preachers departed, consoled and much edified.”5
This was in 1248: an Hugh’s triumphant exposition of Joachism was shattered in less than two years by the Emperor’s death — not after 1264, as it should have been, but as early as 1250. No doubt Hugh’s robust faith survived the shock, for he could still look forward to the Reign of the Holy Ghost, prophesied to being in the year 1260 — a year which, by the bye, he never lived to see. But when 1260 also passed without the expected signs (though the Flagellant’s mania of that year had given him a brief gleam of hope) then Salimbene’s faith in Joachism as an -ism collapsed. (302) “After the death of the ex-Emperor Frederick, and the passing of the year 1260, then I let that whole doctrine go; and I am purposed to believe no more than I can see.”
Yet he always kept up a lively outsider’s interest, and gives us a long account of a talk with the notorious Gerard of Borgo San Donnino which took place, as Prof. Michael has shown, in 1256. The condemnation of the Introduction to the Eternal Gospel naturally led to the punishment of its author, who (456) “had been sent back [from Paris] to his own province [of Sicily]; and, because he would not draw back from his folly, Bonaventura the Minister-General sent for him to join him in 159 France. When therefore he passed through Modena, I dwelt there, and I said to him, since I knew him well: ‘Shall we dispute of Joachim?’ Then said he, ‘Let us not dispute, but confer thereof: and let us go to some privy place.’ So I took him behind the dormitory, and we sat under a vine; and I said to him ‘My question is of Antichrist, when and where he shall be born?’ Then said he ‘He is already born and full-grown; and the Mystery of Iniquity shall soon be at work.’ So I said ‘Dost thou know him?’ ‘I have not seen his face, but I now him well through the Scripture.’ ‘Where then is that Scripture?’ ‘In the Bible,’ said he. ‘Tell me then, for I know my Bible well.’ ‘Nay, I will by no means tell it but if we have a Bible here.’ So I brought him one, and he began to expound the whole 18th chapter of Isaiah, beginning ‘Woe to the land the winged cymbal’ and so on to the end, as referring to a certain King [Alfonso] of Castile in Spain.6 So I said to him, ‘Sayest thou then that this King of Castile now reigning is Antichrist?’ ‘Beyond all doubt he is that accursed Antichrist whereof all doctors and saints have spoken who have treated of this matter.’ Then I answered, mocking him, ‘I hope in my God that thou shalt find thyself deceived.’ And as I thus spake, suddenly many brethren and secular folk appeared in the meadow behind the dormitory, speaking sadly one with another: so he said, ‘Go thou and hear what these say, since they seem to bring woful news.’ I went and returned and said to him, ‘They say that the Lord Philip Archbishop of Ravenna [and Papal legate] hath been taken by Ezzelino.’ Then he answered ‘Thou seest that the mysteries are even now begun.’ Then he enquired of me whether I knew a certain man of Verona dwelling in Parma, who had the spirit of prophecy and wrote of the future. ‘I know him well,’ said I, ‘and have seen his writings.’ ‘I would fain have his writings: I beseech thee therefore to procure them for me if it be possible.’ ‘Yea, for he is glad to publish them abroad, and rejoices greatly whensoever any will have them: for he has written many homilies which I have seen, and has left the trade of a weaver whereby he was wont to live in Parma, and taken himself to the convent of the Cistercians at Fontanaviva. There he dwells in worldly dress at the monks’ expense, and writes all day long in a chamber which they have assigned to him: and thou mayest go to him, for the convent is no more than two miles below the high road.’ ‘Nay,’ said he, ‘for my companions would not turn aside from the road; but I beseech thee to go thither and procure me those books, and thou shalt earn my gratitude.’ So he went on his way, and I saw him 160 no more: but when I had time I went to that convent. There I found a friend of mine, Brother Alberto Cremonella, who entered the Order of Friars Minor the same day as I, . . . . . but he quitted the Order during his novitiate, returning to the world and studying medicine, and after that he entered the Cistercian Order at Fontanaviva, where he was held in great esteem by all. Seeing me therefore, he thought (as he said) to see an angel of God; for he loved me familiarly. Then said I that he would do me much favour if he would lend me all the writings of that man of Verona. But he answered and said, “Know, Brother Salimbene, that I am great and powerful in this house, and the brethren love me of their own loving kindness and for my gift of physic; and if thou wilt I can lend thee all the works of St. Bernard: but this man of whom thou speakest is dead, nor is there one letter of all his writings left in the world, for with mine own hands have I scraped all his books clean, and I will tell thee how and why. We had a Brother in this convent who was excellently skilled in scraping parchment, and he said to our Abbot, “Father, the Blessed Job and Ecclesiastes warn us of our death: and it is written in Hebrews ’It is appointed unto men once to die:’ since therefore it is clearer to me than the light of day that I must some day depart this life, for I am no better then my fathers; therefore, Father, I pray you vouchsafe to assign me certain disciples who would learn to scrape parchment: for they might be profitable to this convent after my death.” Since therefore there was none found but I who would learn this art, therefore after the death of my master and of this man of Verona, I scraped all his books so clean that not one letter is left of all his writings: not only that I might have material whereon to learn my art, but also for that we had been sorely scandalized by reason of those prophecies.’7 So I, hearing this, said in my heart, ’Yea, and the book of Jeremias the Prophet was once burned, and he who burned it escaped not due punishment; and the law of Moses was burned by the Chaldees, yet Esdras restored it again by the aid of the Holy Ghost.’ So there arose in Parma a certain simple man whose intellect was enlightened to foretell the future, as it is written in Proverbs, ’God’s communication is with the simple.’8 Moreover after many years, while I dwelt in the convent of Imola, Brother Arnolfo my Guardian came to my cell with a book written on paper sheets, saying ‘There is in this land a certain notary who is a friend of the brethren; and he hath lent me this book to read, which he wrote at Rome when he was there with the Lord Brancaleone of Bologna, Senator of Rome; and the book is 161 exceedingly dear to him, for it is written and composed by Brother Gerard of Borgo San Donnino: wherefore do thou, who hast studied in the books of Abbot Joachim, read now this treatise and tell me whether there is any good therein.’ So when I had read and understood it, I answered Brother Arnolfo saying: ‘This book hath not the style of the ancient doctors; but rather frivolous and ridiculous words; wherefore the book is of evil fame and hath been condemned, so that I counsel you to cast it into the fire and burn it, and bid this friend of yours have patience with you for God’s sake and the Order’s.’ So it was done, and the book burned. Yet note that this Brother Gerard who wrote the aforesaid book seemed to have much good in him. For he was friendly, courteous, liberal, religious, honest, modest, well-mannered, temperate in word and food and drink and raiment, helpful with all humility and gentleness. He was indeed such as the Wise Man writeth in Proverbs ‘a man amiable in society, who shall be more friendly than a brother’; yet his waywardness in his own opinion brought all these good things to nought. It was ordained by reason of this Gerard that from henceforward no new writings should be published without the Order, save only such as had first been approved by the Ministers and the Definitors in a Chapter General; and that if any did contrary to this rule, he should fast three days on bread and water, and his book should be taken from him.” Gerard’s book, according to our chronicler, “contained many falsehoods contrary to the doctrine of Abbot Joachim, and such as he had never written; as for instance that Christ’s Gospel and the teachings of the new Testament had led no man to perfection, and would be superseded in the year 1260.”
In judging the apparent coolness with which Salimbene speaks of his friend’s disgrace and death, we must remember that he himself had given up the Millennarian side of Joachism, and was therefore compelled, like nine-tenths of the other Franciscans, to look upon Gerard as the man whose blundering obstinacy might easily have caused the defeat of the Orders in their great struggle with the secular doctors at Paris. Gerard was the intellectual black sheep of the Order; Angelo Clareno, excluding him from the list of persecuted Spirituals, rejoices on the contrary to record that “he died as a heretic and excommunicate, and was denied Christian burial” after 18 years of imprisonment in Franciscan dungeons (Arch. iv, II, 293 ff.); and, considering the usual tone of medieval religious controversy, Salimbene’s generous tribute to Gerard’s character is more noticeable than his failure to sympathize with sufferings which a recantation would 162 at any moment have ended. It is difficult for us in this age to realize even remotely the scorn which the most sympathetic men felt then for all poor fools who went to death as champions of unorthodox ideas. “This is the utmost folly” (writes Salimbene, p. 460), “when a man is rebuked by men of the greatest learning, and yet will not retreat from his false opinions against the Catholic faith . . . . no man, therefore, ought to be wanton and pertinacious in his own opinions.” St. James of the Mark, again, was an able man and a real saint: but it is impossible to read without a shudder the reason by which he overcame his natural reluctance to burn heretics.9
Frequent as are Salimbene’s further allusions to Joachim, they mostly imply no more than that he still looked upon him as a man of great personal holiness, and endowed with the gift of foretelling certain particular events. He caught gladly, to the very end, at all Joachistic prophecies, which fell in with his own views, but tacitly abandoned the rest. He is especially fond of the spurious “Exposition of Jeremiah,” with its prophecies of the greatness of the friars, and especially with the preference which it shows for the Franciscans over the Dominicans. The Franciscans (it says) shall be the more popular and less exclusive Order: they alone shall last till the day of Judgment: for Salimbene, like most men of his time, was haunted by that vague, not always uncomfortable, foreboding of the near end of the world which contributed so much to the popularity of Joachism. He quotes how (579) “it was once revealed in a vision to a certain spiritual brother of the Friars Preachers that they would have as many Ministers-General as there are letters in the word dirigimur (“we are governed”): which hath nine letters; so that, if the vision be true, there are but two to come: namely u and r. For the first letter signifieth Dominic, the second Iordan, the third, Raymund, the fourth, Iohn, the fifth, Gumbert [i.e., Humbert de Romans], the sixth, Iohn the Second, the seventh, Munio, who is now their General: whereof a like example is recorded by St. Gregory in the third book of his dialogues. And note that Abbot Joachim, to whom God revealed the future, said that the Order of Preachers should suffer with the rest of the clergy, but the Order of Friars Minor should endure to the end.” The reference to St. Gregory is no doubt chap. 38, where the Pope, writing about 600 A.D., speaks of the probability — or, rather, the certainty — that the last Judgment is close at hand. He therefore proceeds to relate a series of miracles designed to confute those “many folk within the bosom of Holy Church who doubt whether the soul survive the death of the 163 flesh.” Salimbene, as we may see from a sentence recorded above in his description of Hugh’s argument, was critical enough to observe that these expectations of immediate judgment had been common at least from an early period of the Middle Ages. Later on he records another story showing how men’s minds were haunted in his day by similar terrors of a coming Visitation of God. It may remind some readers of Chaucer’s “Miller’s Tale,” the plot of which was probably taken from some 13th-century fabliau. (620) “In the year 1286 there died in the city of Reggio a certain man of Brescia, who had aforetime taught boys to read the Psalter, and feigned himself to be poor, and went about begging, singing also at times and playing the panpipe, that men might the more readily give. The devil put it into his heart that there would be a great famine; wherefore he would roast crusts of bread and lay them in chests; and he filled sacks with meal trodden down, which likewise he laid up in chests, against this famine which, as I have said, he hoped for at the devil’s suggestion. But as it was said to the rich men in the Gospel ‘Thou fool, etc.’ so it befel this wretched miser. For one evening he fell into a grievous sickness beyond his wont, and, being alone in his house, he diligently bolted the door upon himself; and that night he was foully choked by the devil, and shamefully mishandled. So on the morrow when he appeared not, his neighbours came together, men and woman and children, and burst his door by force, and found him lying dead on the earth; and they found the sacks of meal already rotten in one chest, and two other chests they found full of roasted bread-crusts. And it was found likewise that he had two houses in the city, in different quarters, which became forfeit to the Commune of Reggio; that the common proverb might be fulfilled, ‘Quod non accipit Christus accipit Fiscus — That which is not given to Christ goeth to the public treasury.’ Moreover the children stripped that wretch naked, and bound shackles of wood to his feet, and dragged his naked corpse through all the streets and places of the city, for a laughing-stock and a mockery to all men. And strange to relate! no man had taught them to deal thus, nor did any reprove them or say that they had done ill. But when at last they came to St. Anthony’s spital, and were weary with their labour, it chanced that a certain peasant came that way with an ox-waggon. The boys therefore would have bound this outcast corpse to the tail of his waggon, but he strove to hinder them; then the boys rose up suddenly against that boor, and beat him sore, that he was fain at last to let them do as they would. They went out of the city therefore by the bridge of 164 S. Stefano, and cast the corpse from the bridge upon the gravel of the torrent called Crostolo, and then climbing down they heaped thereon a mighty pile of stones, crying ‘Thy famine and thine avarice go down with thee to hell, and thy churlishness withal, for ever and a day.’ Whence it became a proverb that men would say to miserly persons ‘Take heed lest ye provoke the boys’ fury by your churlishness.’ ”10
It is disappointing from many points of view that our chronicler so early lost sympathy with Joachism as a life-force: with that Joachism which was soon to inspire Dolcino, and after him Rienzi, and was so often the mainspring of those antisacerdotal sects which flourished all through the Middle Ages. For it can scarcely be out of place here to point out a more than superficial analogy between 13th century and 19th century religious life. Mysticism and Rationalism, little as they care to recognize each other, have strong secret affinities: enthusiasm may give a mighty impulse, but can never be sure what direction the forces thus liberated will finally take. Every fresh presentment of Christianity is double-edged in its truth as in its error. By means of his Theory of Development Newman reconciled himself to a Rome which, as he saw only too clearly, was very different from the Rome of the Apostles: he took the theory with him into his new church, and there it has borne unexpected fruit in the doctrines of Abbé Loisy and his school. To Newman, it was the high road from dreary Private Judgment to blessed Authority: to the modern intellectual Romanist, it is as easy a backward road from Authority to Private Judgment. Much of this same tendency may be traced in the history of Joachism. The Prophet of Calabria reconciled himself to the corruptions of the Church around him as to tokens which, after all, marked the imminent birth of a new era; and his theory undoubtedly did much to create a favourable atmosphere for the coming friars, who were themselves deeply inspired by the conviction that old things were passed away, and all things were become new. When, however, after a generation or so, it became evident how little the Church in general was shaken from its old evil ways, then the restless energies of the new movement began in many cases to work backwards, rebounding with the very force of their own impact against so vast and inert a mass. The more men realized the living forces liberated by the Franciscan and Dominican reform, the more they were tempted to despair of a priesthood on which even such a shock could scarcely make an appreciable impression.11 It was certain (so at least Joachim, truly interpreting the yearnings of his age, had taught), that the world was on the brink 165 of a new and brighter era, with nothing now intervening save Antichrist and the Abomination of Desolation — the death-throes of a dying world from which the new world was to be born. Men whose every thought was coloured by this conviction — and thousands of the best and most pious, such as Adam Marsh, were more or less avowed Joachites — would find it difficult indeed to stifle antisacerdotal suggestions, as decade after decade passed without real reform within the church. So long as Frederick and his race were alive, so that the civil wars of Italy bore some real appearance of religious wars, so long good Churchmen could always see Antichrist in the Empire. But when, in the latter half of the 13th century, the Emperors became almost vassals of the Popes, and yet the world seemed rather worse than better — then at last men began to ask themselves whether the real enemy of the Church was not the Cleric himself: whether that Antichrist and that Abomination of Desolation, which by the Joachitic hypothesis were already let loose upon the world, could be any other than the Pope and his court, so powerful to fight with carnal weapons, and so powerless to reform the Church. And so among the Franciscans — who naturally counted a disproportionate number of enthusiasts and quick intellects, and with whom the liberties of the individual friar were often all the greater for his Order’s well-earned reputation of subservience to the Pope — many among the Franciscans, first as zealous Spirituals and then as schismatical Fraticelli, became the chief exponents of the Antipapal element in Joachim’s theories. Much is permitted to a man who is labelled with the label of a powerful party: and antipapalism often grew up unchecked among the Papal militia of the Middle Ages, just as Unitarianism grew up under the 18th century Presbyterianism, and as in our own generation a strict devotion to ritual will cover views on inspiration and on miracles which to the early Tractarians would have seemed unspeakably abominable. We can see this under our own eyes: we can trace much of the same tendency in the 13th century; and it would have been welcome indeed if Salimbene had spoken as freely on this subject as he did on many others. But the old chronicler had already forgotten many of the interests of his youth; and indeed this matter of Joachism is the one solitary case in which Salimbene seems ever to have cherished sectarian sympathies; some of his most important and entertaining records, as will be seen later on, are directed against enthusiasts of his age whose religious zeal outran their discretion. Nor is it easy to imagine that he ever fully sympathized — even under the daily influence 166 of Brothers Hugh and John of Parma — with that passionate longing for a new world which was the soul of real Joachism. The world he saw and knew, with all its shortcomings, was a great deal too full of interest to be wished away. He was an Epicurean in the higher sense, recognizing that there are few pleasures in life so keen and abiding as that of learning; and that, so long as one is young and strong, there is no better way of learning than to travel among many men and many cities.
SALIMBENE, however happy in Brother Hugh’s company, had no real business at Hyères, and could not stay there indefinitely. Accordingly (294) “I borrowed from him what he had of the Expositions of Abbot Joachim on the four Evangelists, and went to dwell in the convent of Aix, where I copied the book with the help of my comrade for Brother John of Parma, who was likewise a very mighty Joachite.” Aix attracted him for those romantic but mythical traditions which may still be read in the Golden Legend, a book which was compiled by a contemporary of Salimbene’s and probably an acquaintance: for he seems to have been in the Dominican convent of Genoa in this year 1248 when Salimbene spent some months at the Franciscan convent there. Martha and Lazarus and the Magdelene, with St. Maximin who had been one of the 72 disciples, and Martilla who had cried in the crowd “Blessed is the womb that bare thee,” and Cedonius, the blind man of John ix. 2, had been put by the Jews on board a boat without sails or rudder; and “by God’s will they came to Marseilles, where in process of time Lazarus was Bishop; and he wrote his book On the Pains of Hell as he had seen them with his own eyes. But when I enquired after this book at Marseilles, I heard that it had been burnt by the negligence and carelessness of the guardian of the church.”1 (295) “When therefore I had written this book, the month of September was come, and Brother Raymond, Minister of Provence, wrote me word to come and meet the Minister-General. He wrote also to Brother Hugh to meet him, and we found him at Tarascon, where now is the body of St. Martha: so we went to visit her body — we twelve Brethren besides the General; and the Canons showed us her arm to kiss. So when we had said our Compline in the convent, and beds had been assigned to the guests to sleep in the same building with the general, he went out into the cloister to pray. But the strange Brethren feared to enter their beds until the General 168 came to his; and I, seeing their distress, — for they murmured, because they would fain have slept, an could not, for the bed-places were lighted with bright tapers of wax — therefore I went to the General, who was my very close and intimate friend, being of my country, and akin to my kindred. So I found him praying, and said, ‘Father, the strange Brethren, wearied with their journey and their labour, would fain sleep; but they fear to enter their beds, until you be first come to yours.’ Then said he, ‘Go, tell them from me to sleep with God’s blessing’: and so it was. But it seemed good to me to await the General, that I might show him his bed. When therefore he was come from prayer, I showed him the bed prepared for him: but he said, ‘Son, the Pope’s self might sleep in this bed:* never shall John of Parma sleep therein.’ And he threw himself upon the empty bed which I hoped to have. And I said to him, ‘Father, God forgive you, for you have deprived me of my allotted bed, wherein I thought to sleep.’ And he said, ‘Son, sleep thou in that Papal bed’; and when after his example I would have refused, he said to me, ‘I am firmly resolved that thou shalt lie there, and that is my command’: wherefore I must needs do as he commanded.” Here at Tarascon Salimbene saw and admired two English friars, of whom the principal, Brother Stephen, “had entered the Order in his boyhood; a comely, spiritual, and learned man, of most excellent counsel, and ready to preach daily to the clergy; and he had most excellent writings of Brother Adam Marsh, whose lectures on Genesis I heard from him.” Stephen, of whom Salimbene has an interesting tale to tell presently, is possibly the hero of one of the most charming anecdotes in Eccleston. (R.S. p. 26.) “Brother Peter the Spaniard, who was afterwards Guardian of Northampton and wore a shirt of mail to tame the temptations of the flesh . . . had in his convent a novice who was tempted to leave the Order: but he persuaded him with much ado to go with him to the Minister. On the road, Brother Peter began to preach to him of the virtue of Holy Obedience; and lo! a wild bird went before them as they walked on the way. So the novice, whose name was Stephen, said to Brother Peter, ‘Father if it be as thou sayest, bid me in virtue of obedience to catch this wild bird, and bid it wait for me.’ The Brother did so: and the bird stood suddenly still, and the novice came up and took it and handled it as he would. Straightway his temptation was wholly assuaged, and God gave unto him another 169 heart, and he returned forthwith to Northampton and made his profession of perseverance; and afterwards he became a most excellent preacher, as I saw with mine own eyes.”
Salimbene accompanied John of Parma down the Rhone again to Arles. (297) “And one day when the General was alone, I went to his chamber, and behold, after me came my comrade who was likewise of Parma, Brother Giovannino dalle Olle by name, and he said, ‘Father, vouchsafe that I and Brother Salimbene may have the aureole.’† Then the General showed a jocund face, saying to my comrade, ‘How then can I give you the aureole?’ to whom Brother Giovannino answered, ‘By giving us the office of Preachers.’ Then said Brother John, ‘In very truth, if ye were both my blood-brethren, ye should not have that office otherwise than by the sword of examination.’ Then I answered and said to my comrade in the Minister’s hearing, ‘Hence, hence, with thine aureole! I received the office of Preacher last year from Pope Innocent IV at Lyons. Since therefore it hath once been granted to me by him who had all power, shall I receive it now from Brother Giovannino of San Lazzaro?’ (For Brother John of Parma was called Master Giovannino when he taught logic in the world; and di San Lazzaro after the spital of San Lazzaro, where his uncle brought him up.) Then answered my comrade, ‘I would rather have the office from the Minister-General than from any Pope, and if we must needs pass by the sword of examination, then let Brother Hugh examine us.’ ‘Nay,’ said Brother John, ‘I will not that Brother Hugh examine you, for he is your friend and will spare you; but call me the Lector and Repetitor of this convent.’ They came at his call, and he said, ‘Lead these Brethren apart, and examine them on matters of preaching alone, and bring me word whether they are worthy to have that office.’ It was done as he commanded: to me he gave the office, but not to my comrade, who was found wanting in knowledge. Yet the General said to him, ‘Delay is no robbery. Study wisdom, my son, and make my heart joyful, that thou mayest give an answer to him that reproacheth.’ Then came two young Brethren of Tuscany also, deacons and good scholars, who had studied many years with me in the convent of Pisa: and on the morrow, when they would have departed, they sent to the General through Brother 170 Mark his companion, beseeching the office of Preacher and a licence for the priesthood. The General was saying his Compline, and I with him: then came Brother Mark and interrupted our Compline to give his message: to whom the General answered in fervour of spirit (as was his wont when he believed himself to be stirred with zeal for God) saying ‘These brethren do ill, in that they beg shamelessly for such honours: for the Apostle saith: “No man doth take the honour to himself.” Lo these men have come away from their own Minister, who knew them and might have given them that which they seek from me: let them therefore go now to Toulouse whither they are sent to study, and continue to learn there; for we need not their preaching: yet at a fitting season they may obtain this.’ Then, seeing that he was wroth, Brother Mark withdrew from him saying: ‘Father, ye should rather believe that they ask not of their own accord: for it might well have been that Brother Salimbene had besought me to plead with you on their behalf.’ Then answered the General: ‘Brother Salimbene hath been all the while saying his Compline here with me: therefore know I that it was not he who spake to thee of this matter.’ So Brother Mark withdrew saying, ‘Father, be it as thou wilt.’ Knowing therefore that Brother Mark had not taken the General’s answer in good part, I went to comfort him when our Compline was done. And he said unto me: ‘Brother Salimbene, Brother John hath done evil in that he hath turned away my face, and would not admit my prayers, even though the favour were but small; albeit that I pain myself for the Order, in following him and in writing his letters, though I be now advanced in years.’ ” Brother Mark’s distress gains additional pathos from the character which Salimbene gives him elsewhere (see Chap. ix); but the first fault was in his own indiscretion. John of Parma was not among the many who, in St. Bonaventura’s words, “say the Hours sleepily and indevoutly and imperfectly, with a wandering heart, and a tongue that sometimes omits whole verses and syllables”: on the contrary, Angelo Clareno assures us that he took his Breviary very seriously, always standing and doffing his hood to recite, as St. Francis had done: so that his old friend ought to have known better than to interrupt him at Compline.3 No doubt Brother Mark’s zeal had for a moment overrun his discretion: and his disappointment was now all the more bitter. “If they were priests,” he complained, “then they might celebrate Masses for both quick and dead, and be more profitable to the Brethren to whom they go; and God knoweth that I am 171 ashamed now to return to them with my prayer ungranted.” Salimbene, however sympathetic, could only remind him that “patience hath a perfect work.”
“That evening” (he continues) “the General sent for me anf my comrade, and said, ‘My sons, I hope soon to leave you, for I purpose to go to Spain; wherefore choose for yourselves any convent soever, except Paris, in the whole Order, and take the space of this night to ponder and make your choice; and tell me to-morrow.’ On the morrow he said, ‘What have ye chosen?’ So I answered, ‘In this matter we have done nothing, lest it should become an occasion of mourning to us; but we leave it in your choice to send us whithersoever it may seem good, and we will obey.’ Whereat he was edified, and said, ‘Go therefore to the convent of Genoa, where ye shall dwell with Brother Stephen the Englishman. Moreover, I will write to the Minister and Brethren there, commending you to their favour even as myself; and that thou, Brother Salimbene, mayest be promoted to the priesthood, and thy comrade to the diaconate. And when I come thither, if I find you satisfied, I shall rejoice; and if not, I will console you again.’ And so it was. Moreover, that same day the General said to Brother Hugh his friend, ‘What say ye, shall we go to Spain, and fulfil the Apostle’s desire?’ And Brother Hugh answered him, ‘Go ye, Father; for my part I would fain die in the land of my fathers.’ So we brought him forthwith to his ship, which lay ready on the Rhone: and he went that day to St.-Gilles, but we went by sea to Marseilles, whence we sailed to Hyères to Brother Hugh’s convent. There I dwelt with my comrade from the Feast of St. Francis until All Saints; rejoicing to be with Brother Hugh, with whom I conversed all day long of the doctrine of Abbot Joachim: for he had all his books. But I lamented that my comrade grew grievously sick, almost to death; and he would not take care of himself, and the weather grew daily worse for sailing as the winter drew on. And that country was most unwholesome that year, by reason of the sea-wind; and by night I could scarce breathe, even as I lay in the open air. And I heard wolves crying and howling in the night in great multitudes, and this not once or twice only. So I said to my comrade, who was a most wayward youth, ‘Thou wilt not guard thyself from things contrary to thy health, and art ever relapsing into sickness. But I know that this country is most unwholesome, and I would fain not die yet, for I would fain live to see the things foretold by Brother Hugh. Wherefore know thou, that if fitting fellowship of our Brethren shall come hither, I will go with them.’ And he said, ‘What thou sayest 172 pleases me. I also will go with thee.’ For he hoped that none of the Brethren would come at that time. And behold, by the will of the Lord forthwith there came one Brother Ponce, a holy man, who had been with us in the Convent of Aix; and he was going to Nice, of which Convent he had been made Guardian. And he rejoiced to see us; and I said to him, ‘We will go with you, for we must needs come to Genoa to dwell there.’ And he answered and said, ‘It is most pleasing to me. Go therefore and procure us a ship.’ So on the morrow after dinner we went to the ship, which was a mile from our Convent, but my comrade would not come, until, seeing that I was straitly purposed to depart, he took leave of the Guardian, and came after us. And when I gave him my hand to raise him up into the ship, he abhorred it, and said, ‘God forbid that thou shouldst touch me, for thou hast not kept faith and good comradeship with me.’ To whom I said, ’Wretched man! know now God’s goodness towards thee. For the Lord hath revealed to me that if thou hadst stayed here, thou wouldst doubtless have died.’ Yet he believed me not, until ‘vexation did make him understand what he heard’; for all that winter he could not shake off the sickness which he had taken in Provence. And when on the Feast of St. Matthew following I again visited Hyères, I found six Brethren of that convent dead and buried, the first of whom was the Guardian, who had accompanied my comrade to the ship. So when I was come back to Genoa and had told my comrade of these deaths, he thanked me that I had snatched him from the jaws of death.” It would have been a thousand pities if he had died in his wayward youth: for he went afterwards as a missionary to the Christian captives in Egypt after the disastrous failure of St. Louis’ second crusade, “for the merit of salutary obedience and for the remission of all his sins. For he himself did much good to these Christians, and was the cause of much more; and he saw an Unicorn and the Balsam Vine,‡ and brought home Manna in a vessel of glass, and water from St. Mary’s Well (with which alone the Balsam Vine can be watered so as to bear fruit): and Balsam wood he brought home with him, and many such things which we had never seen, which he was wont to show to the Brethren: and he would tell also how the Saracens keep Christians in bonds and make them to 173 dig the trenches of their fortifications and to carry off the earth in baskets, and how each Christian receives but three small loaves a day. So he was present at the General Chapter in Strasburg [A.D. 1282]; and on his way thence he ended his days at the first convent of the brethren this side of Strasburg [i.e. Colmar], and shone with the glory of miracles. So lived and died Brother Giovannino dalle Olle, who was my comrade in France, in Burgundy, in Provence, and in the convent at Genoa: a good writer and singer and preacher; an honest and good and profitable man: may his soul rest in peace! In the convent wherein he died was a brother incurably diseased, for all that the doctors could do, of a long-standing sickness; yet when he set himself wholly to pray God that He would make him whole for love of Brother Giovannino, then was he forthwith freed from his sickness, as I heard from Brother Paganino of Ferrara, who was there present.” In his company, then, Salimbene sailed to Nice, where they picked up a famous Spiritual, Brother Simon of Montesarchio. The three sailed on from Nice to Genoa; and here our chronicler found himself again among good friends. (315) “The Brethren rejoiced to see us, and were much cheered; more especially Brother Stephen the Englishman, whom afterwards the Minister-General sent to Rome as he had promised; and he became Lector in the convent of Rome, where he died with his comrade, Brother Jocelin, after they had completed their desire of seeing Rome and her sanctuaries. Moreover, in the convent of Genoa when I arrived there was Brother Taddeo, who had been a Canon of St. Peter’s Church in Rome. He was old and stricken in years, and was reputed a Saint by the Brethren. So likewise was Brother Marco of Milan, who had already been Minister: so likewise was Brother Anselmo Rabuino of Asti, who had been Minister of the Provinces of Terra di Lavoro, and Treviso, and had dwelt long at Naples with Brother John of Parma. There were also a Genoa Brother Bertolino the Custode, who was afterwards Minister, and Brother Pentecost, a holy man, and Brother Matthew of Cremona, a discreet and holy man: and all these bore themselves kindly and courtly and charitably towards us. For the Guardian gave me two new frocks, an outer and an inner, and the same to my comrade. And the Minister, Brother Nantelmo, promised to give me whatsoever consolation and grace I might require. He gave his own companion, Brother William of Piedmont, a worthy and learned and good man, to teach me to sing Mass. These have passed all from this world to the Father, and their names are in the Book of Life, for they ended their life well and laudably.” Here in Genoa, therefore, Salimbene settled down for a while, 174 happy in his easily-won Preacher’s aureole; but his companion passed straight on to fight for a Martyr’s crown. (318) “In this same year 1248, Pope Innocent IV sent Brother Simon of Montesarchio into Apulia to withdraw that kingdom and Sicily from the dominion of the deposed Emperor. And he drew many to the Church party; but at last the Emperor took him and had him tortured with eighteen divers torments, all of which he bore patiently, nor could the tormentors wring aught from him but praise of God; who wrought many miracles through him — may he be my Intercessor, Amen! He was my friend at the Court of Lyons when we travelled together to the Pope, and when we travelled from Nice to Genoa we told each other many tales. He was a man of middle height, and dark, like St. Boniface§; always jocund and spiritual; of good life and proper learning. There was also another Brother Simon, called ‘of the Countess,’ whom God glorified by miracles, and who was my familiar friend at the convent of Marseilles this same year.” This Simon, also called Simon of Colazzone, was one of the leaders of the Spirituals in their resistance to Brother Elias; but the wily Minister, dreading his noble and royal connexions, spared him when he scourged St. Anthony of Padua and imprisoned Cæsarius of Spires. A long list of his miracles, from the Papal Bull of Beatification, may be found in Mark of Lisbon (L. i. cap. x.) The allusion to him here is important as a further proof that, if Salimbene took for granted the “relaxed” view of the Rule, it was not want of zealous Spiritual friends. John of Parma, Hugues de Digne, Bernard of Quintavalle, Giles of Perugia, Illuminato, Simon of Colazzone, all six Beati and miracle-workers, show that Salmbene kept the best of company within his Order. This lends all the more point to the story of holy violence which he tells; a tale admirably illustrating those encroachments by which the friars, to the detriment of their own healthy influence in other directions, needlessly exasperated the parish clergy. (316) “There was in the city of Genoa a certain Corsican Bishop, who had been a Black Monk of St. Benedict, and whom King Enzio or Frederick, in their hatred of the Church, had expelled from Corsica. He now dwelt at Genoa and copied books with his own hand for a livelihood; and daily he came to the Mass of the Friars Minor, and afterwards he heard Brother Stephen the Englishman teach in our Schools. This Bishop consecrated me priest in the church of Sant’ Onorato, 175 which is now in the convent of the Friars Minor at Genoa. But in those days it was not so — nay, rather, a certain priest had and held it just over our convent, though he had no folk for his parishioners. And when the Brethren came back from Matins to rest in their cells, this good man troubled their rest with his church-bells; and thus he did every night. Wherefore the Brethren grew weary, and so wrought with Pope Alexander IV that they took that church from him. This Pope had canonized St. Clare, and at the very hour whereat he celebrated the first Mass of St. Clare, when he had said his prayer, the priest drew near and said, ‘I beseech you, Father, for love of the Blessed Clare, not to take from the church of Sant’ Onorato.’ But the Pope took up his parable and began to say in the vulgar tongue, ‘For the love of the Blessed Clare I will that the Brethren Minor have it.’ And thus he said many times over, so that he seemed almost mad (infatuatus) to repeat it so often, and that priest groaned to hear it and departed from him.”
* Alla paperina was a common Italian phrase to denote great comfort: cf. Sacchetti Nov. 131 and 156.
† It was commonly believed that a halo of special glroy in heaven was reserved for virgins, or doctors, or martyrs, and that a preacher might rank for this purpose with a doctor. Salimbene, who certainly did not aspire to martyrdom, is glad to think that, through the Pope’s grace, he is yet sure of his future crown of glory.2
‡ For this Balsam see Sir John Mandeville (chap. v), who gives an equally miraculous, though quite different account of its methods of fructification. It grows only near Cairo, and in “India the Greater, in that desert where the trees of the sun and moon spake to Alexander. But I have not seen it, for I have not been so far upwards, because there are too many perilous passages.”
§ Who is described in the Golden Legend as “a square-built and stout man, with thick hair,” and as “bearing pain readily.”
SALIMBENE had come to Genoa in November 1248: in Feb. 1249 he was already on the move again: for (320) “It pleased Brother Nantlemo my Minister to send me to the Minister-General for the business of the Province. So I put to sea, and came in four days to Brother Hugh’s convent at Hyères. And he rejoiced to see me; and, being Guardian for the time being, he ate familiarly with me and my comrade and none else but the Brethren who served us. He gave us a magnificent dinner of sea-fish and other meats, for we were at the beginning of Lent; and not only my comrade from Genoa, but even the Brethren of that convent marvelled at his great familiarity and complaisance with me: for in those days Brother Hugh was not wont to eat with any, perchance because Lent was at hand. And we spake much of God during that dinner, and of the doctrine of Abbot Joachim, and of what should come to pass in the world. When I left Genoa there was an almond-tree in blossom hard by our sacristy, and in Provence I found the fruit of this tree already big with green husk. I found also broad beans fresh grown in their pods. After dinner I went on my way to the Minister-General, whom I presently found at Avignon on his return from Spain; for he had been recalled by the Pope to go among the Greeks, of whom there was hope that by the mediation of Vatatzes, they might be reconciled to the Roman Church. Thence I went to Lyons with the Minister-General, and at Vienne we found the messenger of Vatatzes, who was of our Order, and was called Brother Salimbene, even as I. He was Greek of one parent, and Latin of another, and spoke Latin excellently, though he had no clerical tonsure. And when the General had come to the Pope, the Holy Father received him and vouchsafed to kiss him on the mouth, and said to him, ‘God forgive thee, son, for thou hast delayed long. Why didst thou not come on horseback, to be with me the sooner?’ To whom Brother John answered, ‘Father, I came swiftly enough when I had seen thy letters; but the Brethren by whom I have 177 passed have kept me on the way.’ To whom the Pope said, ‘We have prosperous tidings, namely that the Greeks are willing to be reconciled with the Church of Rome; wherefore I will that thou go to them with good fellowship of Brethren of thy Order, and it may be that by thy mediation God will deign to work some good. Receive therefore from me every favour which thou mayest desire.’ So the Minister-General departed from Lyons when Easter week was passed.
“I found at Lyons brother Ruffino, Minister of Bologna,* who said to me, ‘I sent thee into France to study for my Province, and thou hast gone to dwell in the convent of Genoa. Know therefore that I take this very ill, since I bring students together for the honour of my Province.’ And I said, ‘Forgive me, Father, for I knew not that you would take it ill.’ Then he answered, ‘I forgive under this condition, that thou write forthwith an Obedience whereby thou mayest return to my Province whence thou hast come, with thy comrade who is now in Genoa.’ So I did, and the Minister-General know not of this Obedience when he was at Lyons. So I went on my way to Vienne, and thence through Grenoble and the valley of the Count of Savoy, where I heard of the fall and ruin of the mountain. For the year before, in the valley of Maurienne — between Grenoble and Chambéry — there is a plain called the valley of Savoy proper, a league distant from Chambéry, over which rose a great and lofty mountain, which fell one night and filled the whole valley; the ruin whereof is a whole league and a half in breadth: under which ruin seven parishes were overwhelmed, and 4000 men were slain. I heard tell of this ruin at Genoa; and in this year following I passed through that country, that is, through Grenoble, and understood it with more certainty; and many years after, at the convent of Ravenna, I enquired of the fall of this mountain from Brother William, Minister of Burgundy, who was passing through that city on his way to a Chapter General: and I have written it faithfully and truly as I heard it from his mouth.1 On this journey I entered a certain church dedicated to St. Gerard, which was all full of children’s shirts.† Thence I passed on to Embrun, where was an Archbishop born of Piacenza, who daily gave dinner to two Friars Minor, and ever set places for them at his table, and portions of all his dishes before them. So if any came, they had this dinner; but if not, 178 he caused it to be given to other poor folk. Moreover, in that country dwell thirteen Brethren. Then came the Guardian and said to me, ‘Brother, may it please thee to go and eat with the Archbishop, who will take it in excellent good part; for it is long since the Brethren have eaten with him, because they are wearied to go thither so often.’ But I said, ‘Father, forgive me, and take it not ill: for I must depart without delay after meat; but the Archbishop, hearing that I was from the Court, would hinder my journey by asking after tidings.’ Then the Guardian held his peace, but I said softly to my comrade, ‘I have bethought me that it is well to finish our journey while we have fair weather and good letters, that we may quickly answer those who sent us, and also lest the Minister-General come before us to the convent of Genoa; for our own Minister would not take our journey in so good part:’ and that which I said and did pleased my comrade. So we departed therefore and passed through the lands of the Count Dauphin, and so came to Susa. And when we were come to Alessandria we found two Brethren of Genoa, to whom my comrade said, ‘Know that ye are losing Brother Salimbene and his comrade at Genoa, for the Minister of Bologna is recalling them to his Province. But I, though I be of Genoa, will not go thither; but I am purposed to return to my convent of Novara, whence the Minister took me when he sent me to the General. Now therefore take these letters and give them to the Minister Provincial of Genoa on the General’s part.’ Then he brought forth his letters and gave them to my comrades [of Genoa]. So on the morrow we went from Alessandria to Tortona, which is ten miles’ journey: and next day to Genoa, which is a far journey.‡ And the Brethren rejoiced to see me, for I was come from afar, and brought good tidings.
“Now at Lyons I had found Brother Rinaldo, of Arezzo in Tuscany, who had come to the Pope to be absolved from his Bishopric. For he was Lector at Rieti, and when the Bishop of that city died, the folk found such grace in him that the canons of one accord elected him. And Pope Innocent, hearing of his learning and sanctity, would not absolve him, nay, rather, by the counsel of his brother Cardinals, he straitly commanded him to accept the Bishopric, and afterwards honoured him by consecrating him personally, while I was at Lyons. A few days therefore after [my return to Genoa] Brother Rinaldo returned as a Bishop from Lyons; and on Ascension Day he preached to the people, and celebrated with his mitre on his head in the church of our 179 convent at Genoa. And by that time I was a priest, and served him at Mass, although a deacon was there, and a sub-deacon, and other ministers. And he gave the Brethren a most excellent dinner of sea-fish, and other meats, eating familiarly with us in the refectory. But the night following after Mattins, Brother Stephen the Englishman preached to the Brethren in the Bishop’s hearing, and among other honeyed words (such as he was wont to speak), he told a story to the Bishop’s confusion, saying: ‘A certain Friar Minor in England, a layman, but a holy man, spake truly one day concerning the Easter candle. When it is kindled to burn in the church, it shines and sheds light around: but when the extinguisher is placed upon it, its light is darkened, and it stinks in our nostrils. So it is with a Friar Minor when he is fully kindled and burns with Divine love in the Order of St. Francis: then indeed doth he shine and shed light on others by his good example. Now I bethought me yesterday at dinner how our Bishop suffered his Brethren to bow their knees to him when dishes were placed before him on the table. To him, therefore may we well apply that word which the English Brother spake.’§ The bishop groaned to hear this; and when the sermon was ended, he bent his knees and besought Brother Bertolino the Custode for leave to speak; (for the Minister Provincial was not present) and, leave being given, he well excused himself, saying, ‘I was indeed aforetime a candle, kindled, burning, shining, and shedding light in the Order of St. Francis, giving a good example to those that beheld me, as Brother Salimbene knows, who dwelt two years with me in the convent of Siena. And he knows well what conscience the Brethren of Tuscany have of my past life; nay, even in this convent here the ancient Brethren know of my conversation: for it was on behalf of this convent that I was sent to study at Paris. If the Brethren have done me honour by bowing the knee before me at table, that hath not proceeded from my ambition; for I have forbidden them often enough to do thus. But it was not in my power to beat them with my staff; neither could I nor dared I insist upon obedience. Wherefore I pray you for God’s sake to hold me excused, seeing that there was neither ambition nor vainglory in me.’ Having thus spoken, he bent his knees (as I myself saw and heard), confessing his fault, if by chance he had given evil example to any man, and promising to remove, as quickly as 180 might be, that extinguisher which by force had been set over him. After this he commended himself to the brethren, and so we led him honourably forth, and accompanied him to an Abbey of White Monks without the city, where was an old man who had resigned of his own free will the Bishopric of Turin that he might live more feely in that cloister for himself and for God. Hearing then that Brother Rinaldo was a mighty clerk and had lately been made Bishop, he sighed and said: ‘I marvel how thou, a wise man, art fallen so low in folly as to undertake a Bishopric, whereas thou wert in that most noble order of St. Francis, an Order of most excellent perfection, wherein whosoever endureth to the end shall without doubt be saved. Meseemeth therefore that thou hast greatly erred, and art become as it were an apostate, because thou hast returned to active life from that state of contemplative perfection. For I also was a Bishop like unto thee, but when I saw that I could not correct the follies of my clergy who walked after vanity, then “my soul rather chose hanging:” I resigned therefore my Bishopric and my clergy and chose rather to save mine own soul. And this I did after the example of St. Benedict, who left the company of certain monks for that he had found them froward and wicked.’
“When therefore Brother Rinaldo had heard these words, he made no answer, though he was a man of learning and of great wit; for the Bishop’s words were to his mind, and he knew that he had spoken truth. Then I answered and said to the Bishop of Turin, lest he should seem wise in his own eyes, ‘Father, lo thou sayest that thou hast forsaken thy clergy, but consider whether thou hast done well. For Pope Innocent III among many other things said to a certain Bishop who would have refused his Bishopric, “Think not that because Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her, therefore Martha hath chosen an evil part in that she was busy about many things: for, though the contemplative life be more free from care, yet is the active life more fruitful: though the former be sweeter, yet is the latter more profitable: for Leah the blear-eyed surpassed in fertility of offspring the well-favoured Rachel.” ’
“When therefore I had spoken thus, the Bishops listened on either side, but Brother Rinaldo answered me not a word, lest he should seem to delight in his Bishopric. For he purposed in his mind to lay down the load imposed upon him as soon as a fit season should come. He went therefore to his Bishopric, and when he was come thither the canons came to see him, and told him of a certain wanton fellow-canon of theirs, who seemed rather a layman than a clerk, for he had long hair even to his 181 shoulders, and would wear no tonsure. And the Bishop dragged him by the hair and smote him on the cheek, and called his parents and kinsfolk, who were noble, rich, and powerful, and said to them, ‘Let this son of yours either choose the life of a layman, or wear such a habit as may show him to be a clerk; for I can in no wise suffer that he go thus clad.’ And his parents answered and said to the Bishop, ‘It is our pleasure that he should be a clerk, and that ye should do to him whatsoever seems to you honest and good.’ Then with his own hands the Bishop cut his hair, and made him a tonsure, round and great, in the figure of a circle, that therein he might for the future be amended wherein he had aforetime sinned. And he to whom these things were done was grieved, but the canons rejoiced beyond measure.
“When therefore Brother Rinaldo could no longer dissemble with a whole conscience the works of his clergy, seeing that they would not return to the way of honesty and righteousness, he visited Pope Innocent IV, who was come to Genoa, and resigned the dignity which had been conferred on him at Lyons, saying that he was wholly purposed from thenceforward to be no Bishop. The Pope, seeing the anguish of his soul, promised to absolve him when he should be come to Tuscany; for he hoped that perchance Brother Rinaldo would yet change his mind, which however was far from him. So Brother Rinaldo came and dwelt many days at Bologna, hoping that the Pope would pass that way into Tuscany; and when the Holy Father had come to Perugia Brother Rinaldo came to him, and before the Cardinals in Consistory resigned his office and benefice, laying his pontificals, that is, his staff, his mitre, and his ring, at the Supreme Pontiff’s feet. And the Cardinals marvelled and were troubled, seeing how Brother Rinaldo seemed therein to derogate from their state, as though they were not in a state of salvation, being promoted to dignities and prelacies. The Pope likewise was troubled, for that he had consecrated him with his own hands, believing himself to have conferred a fit man upon the church of Rieti, as all held him to be, and as indeed he was. So the Cardinals and the Pope prayed him instantly for the love of God and for their honour and for the profit of the Church and the salvation of souls that he should not renounce his dignity. But he answered that they laboured thus in vain. And the Cardinals said, ‘What if an angel hath spoken to him, or God hath revealed this to him?’ Then the Pope, perceiving his steadfast purpose, said to him, ‘Although thou wilt not have the thought and care of Episcopal rule, yet let the pontifical powers at least be left, and keep dignity and authority to ordain others, that thy Order may thus have some 182 profit from thee.’ And he answered, ‘I will keep nothing whatsoever.’ So, being absolved from his office, he came to the Friars that same day: and, taking his bag or wallet or basket, he besought leave to go with the almoner begging for bread. And as he went thus begging through the city of Perugia a certain Cardinal met him on his way back from the Consistory, perchance by the will of God, that he might see, teach, and hear. Who, knowing him well, said to him, ‘Wert thou not better to be still a Bishop than to go begging from door to door?’ But Brother Rinaldo answered him, ‘The Wise Man saith in Proverbs, “It is better to be humbled with the meek than to divide spoils with the proud.” As to my Bishopric, I grant indeed that it is more blessed to bestow spiritual gifts than to beg them from others: but the Friars Minor do indeed bestow such gifts; whereof the Psalmist saith “Take a psalm and bring hither the timbrel,” which is to say “Take spiritual gifts and bring hither temporal gifts.”¶ Wherefore I will cleave to the end to this way, which I have learnt in the Order, as the blessed Job saith, “Till I die I will not depart from my innocence: my justification, which I have begun to hold, I will not forsake.” However, as the Apostle saith, “Everyone hath his proper gift from God, one after this manner, and another after that:” yet “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we will call upon the name of the Lord our God.” ’ The Cardinal, hearing this, and knowing that God had spoken through the mouth of his saint, departed from him, and reported all his words on the morrow to the Pope and Cardinals in Consistory: and they all marvelled. But Brother Rinaldo told the Minister-General, Brother John of Parma, to send him to dwell wheresoever he would; and he sent him to the convent of Siena, where he was known to many; and there he dwelt from All Saints until after Christmas, and so he died and went to God. Now as he lay sick of the sickness whereof he died, there was at Siena a certain canon of the cathedral church who had lain six years palsied in bed, and with all the devotion of his heart had recommended himself to Brother Rinaldo. He, about daybreak, heard in his dreams a voice that said unto him, ‘Know thou that Brother Rinaldo hath passed from this world to the Father, and through his merits God hath made thee altogether whole.’ And waking forthwith, and feeling himself wholly delivered from that sickness, he called his boy to bring his garments, 183 and going to the chamber of a fellow-canon, told him of this new miracle, and both hastened forthwith to the Brethren to tell them this evident miracle which God had deigned to work that night by the merits of the blessed Rinaldo. And when they were come out of the town gate they heard the Brethren chanting as they carried his body to church; and so they were present at his funeral, and afterwards related the miracle with joy; and the Brethren rejoiced, saying ‘Blessed be God.’ Such was Brother Rinaldo of Arezzo, of the Order of the Friars Minor, Bishop of Rieti, who in his life wrought marvels, and in his death did yet greater wonders. He was a man of most excellent learning, a great Lector in theology, a splendid and gracious preacher, both to clergy and to people, for he had a most eloquent tongue that never stumbled, and was a man of great heart. Two years I dwelt with him in the convent of Siena, and saw him oft-times in those of Lyons and Genoa. I could not have believed, if any man had toldme, that Tuscany could have produced such a man, unless I had seen it with mine own eyes.** He has a blood-brother in the Order of Vallombrosa, who was Abbot of the monastery of Bertinoro in Romagnola, (Purg. xiv. 112) a holy, learned, and good man, and a great friend of the Friars Minor; may his soul rest in peace!
(332) “Moreover, in the year of our Lord 1249, after the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua I departed from the Convent of Genoa with my comrade, and we came to Bobbio, and saw one of the water-pots wherein the Lord turned water into wine at the wedding-feast, for it is said to be one of them. Whether it be so indeed, God knoweth, to Whose eyes all things are naked and open. Therein are many relics; it stands on the altar of the monastery of Bobbio, and there are many relics of the blessed Columban, which we saw. Afterwards we came to Parma, where we had been before, and there we did our business. Now after our departure from Genoa, the Minister-General, Brother John of Parma, came thither; to whom the Brethren said, ‘Wherefore, Father, hast thou taken away from us our Brethren, whom thou hadst sent hither? We rejoiced in your love, for that they were here with us, and for that they are good Brethren, and full of consolation, and have behaved themselves well.ଁ Then the Minister answered and said, ‘Where then are they? Are they not in this Convent?’ And they said, ‘No, Father, 184 for Brother Ruffino of Bologna hath recalled them to his Province.’ Then said the General, ‘God knoweth I knew nothing of this command; nay, rather, I believed that they were in this house, and marvelled much that they came not to me.’ Afterwards he found us at Parma, and said to us with a merry face, ‘Ye are much abroad, my children, now in France, now in Burgundy, now in Provence, now in the Convent of Genoa, and now ye purpose to dwell in that of Parma. If I might rest as ye may I would not wander so much abroad.’ And I said to him, ‘On you, Father, falls the labour of travelling by reason of your ministry; but know of us that true and pure obedience has always been our part.’ Hearing this, he was satisfied, for he loved us. And when we were at Bologna, he said one day in his chamber to the Minister, Brother Ruffino, ‘I had placed those Brethren in the Convent of Genoa to study, and thou hast removed them thence.’ Brother Ruffino answered, ‘Father, this I did for their consolation, for I had sent them to France in the days when the Emperor was besieging Parma, and thought therefore to comfort them by recalling them.’ Then said I to the Minister-General, ‘Yea, Father it was as he saith.’ Then said the General to him, ‘Thou wilt therefore place them well, that they may be comforted, and attend to their studies, and wander not so much abroad.’ To whom Brother Ruffino answered, ‘Gladly, Father, will I do them favour and comfort, for your love and for theirs.’ Then he kept my comrade at Bologna to correct his Bible for him; but me he sent to Ferrara, where I lived seven years continuously without changing my abode.”
* Not the Ruffino of the Fioretti.
† no doubt as thanksgiving offerings for cures: perhaps the church was that of Gières by Grenoble.
‡ It is between 35 and 40 English miles.
§ this anecdote gains point from the fact recorded by Eccleston and others, that the English Province was noted for its comparatively strict observance of St. Francis’s rule.
¶ This explanation is from the Glossa Ordinaria, and well exemplifies the confusion imported into medieval theology by this habit of arguing from far-fetched traditional glosses as almost equal in authority to the Bible text.
** Compare the character which Salimbene has already given to the Tuscans in his account of the Great Allelia, and Sacchetti’s letter to Giacomo di Conte. The Saints of the Order came far more from mountain districts like Umbria and the Mark of Ancona than from the great towns.
SEVEN years on end! With what tell-tale emphasis Salimbene writes here, and repeats elsewhere, this significant phrase! Hitherto he had travelled about pretty much as he pleased; if only by getting different “obediences” from different authorities, and choosing whichever pleased him best; for we see clearly in his pages how impossible it was even for the untiring John to Parma to superintend more than a small fraction of so extensive an Order, with all its complicated details and overlapping of jurisdiction. One can realize too how easily the more wayward friars could manage to live in vagabondage for years; and Wadding’s records of constant complaints on this subject, in spite of vainly-repeated papal anathemas, are seen to be natural enough. From this arrival at Ferrara onwards, we find far fewer autobiographical records, until Salimbene’s last few years brought him again into the mid vortex of civil war. It seems that for a period of about 32 years, from 1249 to 1281, our good friar lived a comparatively uneventful convent life, studying, preaching, writing, always observing no doubt, but with fewer experiences of the sort that would specially interest his niece in her convent. If only he had kept a business diary during those years, like his acquaintance the Archbishop of Rouen, and passed down to us a record of that daily convent life which was too trivial to be told to Sister Agnes!
Yet even this comparatively stationary and uniform life was not without many distractions. Prof. Holder-Egger points out that a chance observation of Salimbene’s suggests the probability of brief wanderings even during the “seven continuous years” of Ferrara (p. 41, note 3). Prof. Michael had previously traced Salimbene’s places of abode during the next few years, and they make a very varied list. After the Ferrara years came a long abode in Romagna — five years altogether at Ravenna, five at Imola, and five at Faenza, of which period however the two last were certainly not unbroken and consecutive. One year he 186 spent at Bagnacavallo, and one at Montereggio: another year he passed in his native Parma, — probably only off and on. In 1259 we find him in neighbouring Borgo san Donnino: twice again in neighbouring Modena. He went on a pilgrimage to Assisi, some time after 1270. He was at Forlì when it was besieged in 1273, and at Faenza during the siege of 1274. In 1281, at last, he came to end his days in his native province of Emilia.
It is quite possible that, as Michael supposes, he worked hard as preacher and confessor all these years, though the quotation adduced scarcely goes so far as this: ‘I have now lived in the Order many years as a priest and preacher, and have seen many things and dwelt in mnay provinces and learnt much.” (38) He was no doubt always sociable, always busy, always popular, but nothing in his chronicle seems to imply that he worked really hard among the people: and certainly he always lent his heart out with usury to just those worldly sights and sounds, just those innumerable and thoroughly human trifles, which the disciplinarians of his Order tried so earnestly to exclude from a friar’s life.
He read hard undoubtedly, or he would never have known his Bible so well: though here and there his strings of quotations seem to smack rather of the concordance, which was the invention of a 13th century Dominican, to whom our good Franciscan pays a somewhat grudging tribute on page 175. And he wrote busily too, — witness the list of his writings, mostly compilations, and now all unfortunately lost but one. First, in 1250, he wrote his “Chronicle beginning: Octavianus Cæsar Augustus.” (217): in another place he tells us that he wrote three other chronicles besides the one which has survived (293). One of these may be the “Treatise of Pope Gregory X” to which he refers on page 245 (A.D. 1266): and another the chronicle concerning Frederick II (204, 344, 592). The “Treatise of Elisha” (293) and the “Types and Examples, Signs and Figures and Mysteries of Both Testaments” (238) were doubtless of a purely theological character. Another was apparently in verse, an imitation of Patecchio’s satirical “Book of Pests.” (464) Two other treatises have been preserved by the happy impulse which prompted the author to copy them bodily into the present chronicle: these are the “Book of the Prelate,” a violent pamphlet against Brother Elias, from which I have already quoted and shall quote again (96 foll.) and the “Treatise of the Lord’s Body,” mainly liturgical (336 foll.)
But his life during these 32 years was by no means entirely devoid of outward interest: as the rest of this chapter will show. 187 To begin chronologically with the seven years at Ferrara: here he found himself a close spectator of the cruelties of Ezzelino and his Brother Alberigo, and of the crusade which finally crushed the former. Here too he heard of Frederick’s death, and saw the Pope come home in triumph from his long exile at Lyons. This was in 1251, while Europe was still shuddering at the failure of St. Louis’ first crusade and mourning for thousands of Christians slain: but no news of public disaster to Christendom could spoil the Pope’s private triumph. (445) “He came in the month of May to his own native city of Genoa, and there gave a wife to one of his nephews; at whose wedding he himself was present with his cardinals and 80 bishops; and at that feast were many dishes and courses and varieties of meats, with divers choice and jocund wines; and each course of dishes cost many marks. No such great and pompous wedding as this was celebrated in my days in any country, whether we consider the guests who were present or the meats that were set before them: so that the Queen of Sheba herself would have marvelled to see it.”
Meanwhile very different events were taking place in the land which the Pope had just left. The common people of France, indignant at the failure of their nobles in the Crusade, rose under a leader who boasted that he had no mere papal or episcopal authority, but a letter direct from the Virgin Mary, which he held night and day in his clenched hand. So writes Matthew Paris, whose very full account, from the lips of an English monk who had fallen into the hands of these Pastoureaux, confirms the briefer notice of Salimbene. (444) “In this year an innumerable host of shepherds was gathered together in France, saying that they must cross the sea to slay the Saracens and avenge the King of France: and many followed them from divers cities of France, nor dared any man withstand them, but all gave them food and whatsoever they desired; wherefore the very shepherds left their flocks to join them. For their leader told how God had revealed to him that the sea would be parted before him, and he should lead that innumerable host to avenge the King of France. But I, when I heard this, said ‘Woe to the shepherds that desert their sheep. Where the King of France could do so little with his armed host, what shall these fellows do?’ Yet the common folk of France believed in them, and were terribly provoked against the Religious, more especially against the Friars Preachers and Minors, for that they had preached the Crusade and given men crosses to go beyond seas with the King, who had now been conquered by the Saracens. 188 So these French who were then left in France were wroth against Christ, to such a degree that they presumed to blaspheme His Name, which is blessed above all other names. For in those days when the Friars Minor and Preachers begged alms in France in Christ’s name, men gnashed their teeth on them; then, before their very faces, they would call some other poor man and give him money and say, ‘Take that in Mahomet’s name; for he is stronger than Christ.’ So our Lord’s word was fulfilled in them ‘They believe for a while, and in time of temptation they fall away.’ Wretched misery! whereas the King of France was not provoked to wrath, but suffered patiently, these men were goaded to fury! Moreover that host of shepherds destroyed a whole Dominican convent in one city so utterly that not one stone was left upon another, and this because the friars had dared to speak a word against them. But in this same year they were brought to nought, and their whole congregation was utterly destroyed.” Matthew Paris tells us how the Pastoureaux owed much of their popularity to their attacks on the clergy, especially upon the friars: he looks upon these crusaders as precursors of Antichrist, but admits that many pious folk, including the severe queen Blanche herself, favoured their preaching at first, in spite of its entire lack of ecclesiastical authority. He speaks also in the strongest terms of the widespread infidelity in France at that time: “faith began to waver in the kingdom of France:” “the devil . . . . saw that the Christian faith was tottering to it fall even in the sweet realm of France.” A few pages higher up, under the year 1250, after describing the outbreak of blasphemy among the French at the first news of St. Louis’ failure, he adds: “Moreover the most noble city of Venice, and many cities of Italy whose inhabitants are but half-Christians, would have fallen into apostasy if they had not been comforted and strengthened by bishops and holy men of Religion.”
After his nephew’s wedding at Genoa, Innocent IV “came through Brescia and Mantua (445) to the great Abbey of San Benedetto di Polirone, where the Countess Matilda lieth buried in a tomb of marble: in whose honour the Pope with his cardinals recited the psalm De Profundis around her grave; for they were mindful of the benefits which she had conferred in old time on the Roman Church and Pontiffs. Then he came on to Ferrara, where I dwelt. So when he should have entered the city, he sent word that the Friars Minor should come out to meet him, and abide ever by his side; which we did all along the Via San Paolo. His messenger this time was a certain Brother of Parma 189 named Buiolo, who dwelt with the Pope and was of his family: and the Pope’s confessor was another Minorite, Brother Nicholas [the Englishmen] my friend, whom the Pope made Bishop of Assisi:1 and there was likewise in the Holy Father’s household my friend and companion Brother Lorenzo, whom he afterwards made Bishop of Antivari [in Greece], and there were yet two other Friars Minor in the Pope’s household. And the Pope stayed many days at Ferrara, until the octave of St. Francis, and he preached a sermon standing at the window of the Bishop’s palace; and certain cardinals stood by him on either side, one of whom, the Lord William his nephew, made the Confession in a loud voice after the sermon. For there was a great multitude gathered together as for judgment; and the Pope took for his text ‘Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord: the people whom He hath chosen for His inheritance.’ And after his sermon he said; ‘The Lord hath kept me on my journey home from Italy, and while I dwelt at Lyons, and on my way back hither; blessed be He for ever and ever!’ And he added: ‘This is mine own city; I beseech you to live in peace; for the lord who was once your Emperor and who persecuted the Church, is now dead.’ Now I stood hard by the Pope, so that I might have touched him when I would; for he was glad to have Friars Minor about him. Then Brother Gerardino of Parma, who was the master of Brother Bonagrazio [the Minister-General], touched me with his elbow and said: ‘Hear now that the Emperor is dead: for until now thou hast been unbelieving; leave therefore thy Joachim.’ Moreover in those days when the Pope dwelt at Ferrara, the cardinals sent us oft-times swine ready slaughtered and scalded which men gave them continually: and we in our turn gave thereof to our Sisters of the Order of St. Clare. Moreover the Pope’s seneschal sent word to us saying: ‘To-morrow the Holy Father will depart: send me therefore your porters, and I will give you bread and wine for yourselves, seeing that we have no further need thereof:’ and so we did. And when the Pope was come to Bologna, he was received with great pomp by the citizens: but he tarried little with them, departing in haste, and wroth for that they besought him to give them Medicina, which is a Church estate in the Bishopric of Bologna, and which they had long held by force. He therefore would not listen to their petition, but said, ‘Ye hold Church lands by force, and now ye beg the same as a gift? Get you hence in God’s name, for I will not hear your petition.’ But at his departure he found many fair and noble ladies of Bologna gathered together, who had come from the villages to the road by which he must pass, for they were fain to 190 see him: so he blessed them in the Lord’s name and went on his way and dwelt at Perugia.”
It will be seen that Salimbene was never slow to take the place to which he felt himself entitled by his birth and his abilities: and on one occasion at least, about the year 1256, he was entrusted with the responsible office of peacemaker between Bologna and Reggio. On another occasions (451) we find him a guest at the villa of Ghiberto da Gente, Podesta of Parma, who tried to make use of our friend to further his designs on Reggio; but Salimbene did not like the job, and remembered opportunely that “The Apostle saith in his second Epistle to Timothy: ‘No man being a soldier to God entangleth himself with secular businesses.’ ” Later on, when Ghiberto had fallen from his high estate in Parma, it was the friar’s turn to plead, and equally in vain. “Being in his villa of Campigine I said to him, ‘What now, my Lord Ghiberto? Why enter ye not into our Order?’ Then he answered and said: ‘And what would ye now do with me, who am an old man of 60 years and more?’ And I said: ‘Ye would give a good example to others, and would save your own soul.’ He then answered and said: ‘I know that you give me profitable counsel; but I cannot hear you, for my heart is wholly concerned with other matters.’ And, in short, I besought him long and instantly, but he would not listen to do well: for “he devised iniquity on his bed,” hoping to be avenged of the men of Parma and Reggio who had deposed him from his lordship there. He died at Ancona and was there buried: and he assigned certain yearly rents of his meadows in the Bishopric of Parma to the Friars Minor and Preachers, that they might enjoy them during a certain term of years as conscience money for his ill-gotten gains: and so they have indeed enjoyed them; may his soul of God’s mercy rest in peace! Amen.” Salimbene’s third and last political mission will be told in its place under the year 1285.
1258 had been a year of famine; and then (464) “Next year a great pestilence fell upon men and women, so that at the office of Vespers we had two dead together in our church. This curse began in Passion-week, so that in the whole Province of Bologna the Friars Minor could not hold their services on Palm-Sunday, for they were hindered by a sort of numbness. And this lasted many months: whereof three hundred and more died in Borgo San Donnino, and in Milan and Florence many thousands; nor did men toll the bells, lest the sick should be afraid.” Famine and pestilence led to a great religious revival, beginning as usual among the common people. (465) “The Flagellants came 191 through the whole world; and all men, both small and great, noble knights and men of the people, scourged themselves naked in procession through the cities, with the Bishops and men of Religion at their head; and peace was made in many places, and men restored what they had unlawfully taken away, and they confessed their sins so earnestly that the priests had scarce leisure to eat. And in their mouths sounded words of God and not of man, and their voice was as the voice of a multitude: and men walked in the way of salvation, and composed godly songs of praise in honour of the Lord and the Blessed Virgin: and these they sang as they went and scourged themselves. And on the Monday, which was the Feast of all Saints, all those men came from Modena to Reggio, both small and great; and all of the district of Modena came, and the Podesta and the Bishop with the banners of all the Gilds; and they scourged themselves through the whole city, and the greater part passed on to Parma on the Tuesday following. So on the morrow all the men of Reggio made banners for each quarter of the town, and held processions around the city, and the Podesta went likewise scourging himself. And the men of Sassuolo at the beginning of this blessed time took me away with the leave of the Guardian of the convent of the Friars Minor at Modena, where I dwelt at that time, and brought me to Sassuolo, for both men and women loved me well; afterwards they brought me to Reggio and then to Parma. And when we were come to Parma this Devotion was already there, for it flew as ‘an eagle flying to the prey,’ and lasted many days in our city, nor was there any so austere and old but that he scourged himself gladly. Moreover, if any would not scourge himself, he was held worse than the Devil, and all pointed their finger at him as a notorious man and a limb of Satan: and what is more, within a short time he would fall into some mishap, either of death or of grievous sickness. Pallavicino only, who was then Lord of Cremona, avoided this blessing and this Devotion with his fellow-citizens of Cremona; for he caused gallows to be set up by the bank of the River Po, in order that if any came to the city with this manner of scourging he might die on the gibbet: for he loved the good things of this life better than the salvation of souls, and the world’s glory better than the glory of God. Nevertheless many brave youths of Parma were fully resolved to go thither, for they were glad to die for the Catholic Faith, and for God’s honour and the remission of their sins. And I was then at Parma in the Podesta’s presence, who said ‘His heart is blinded, and he is a man of malice, who knoweth not the things of God. Let us 192 therefore give him no occasion of ill-doing, for he loved cursing, and it shall come unto him: and he would not have blessing, and it shall be far from him.’ And he said, ‘How seemeth it to you, my Brethren? Say I well?’ Then I answered and said, ‘You have spoken wisely and well, my Lord.’ Then the Podesta sent heralds throughout the city of Parma, forbidding under the heaviest penalties lest any man of Parma should dare to cross the Po: so their purpose ceased. And this was the year wherein that age should have begun which was foretold by Abbot Joachim, who divideth the world into three states: and they say that this last state of the world began with these Flagellants of the year 1260, who cried with God’s words and not with men’s.” Manfred also kept the Flagellants out of his state by the threat of martyrdom, for he, like Pallavicino, was known to be as good as his word in these matters, and to wage perpetual war against religious enthusiasms which were only too likely to cause political complications in his dominions. This leads the Domincan chronicler Pipinus to lament the premature end of the movement in Italy: though it was to some extent kept up by formally constituted Gilds of Penitents in most of the cities. But elsewhere the revival degenerated into such superstitions and disorders as could be only too surely anticipated from such descriptions as Varagine and Pipinus himself give us in their chronicles. The Pope had never approved the movement, which was plainly an attempt of the common folk to come to God without human mediation; and the clergy of Germany and Poland were compelled to suppress it as mercilessly as the Italian tyrants. The same superstition broke out with greater violence after the Great Plague of 1349, and again on several other occasions. Gerson wrote a treatise against it in 1417, recalling how often the movement had already been condemned by the authorities, and partly explaining its recrudescence by the favourite medieval quotation from Ecclesiastes (Vulg.) “The number of fools is infinite.”2
The next important dates of which we are sure in Salimbene’s biography find him at Ravenna: he was there in 1264 and 1268, an it is very likely that the five years’ residence of which he speaks was continuous, except for short excursions to neighbouring towns. Our chronicler looked back very fondly to those five years at Ravenna. Everything in the old Imperial city appealed to him. The district was at peace, so far as there could be peace in 13th century Italy, and here were old families to associate with, and old books to read. He enjoyed, too, the antiquarian atmosphere of the city: it did his heart good to see the desecrated 193 tomb of the unorthodox Theodoric, and to think that (209) “the blessed Pope Gregory, when he came hither, caused his bones to be torn from the tomb of porphyry, (which is shown empty unto this day,) and thrown upon the dunghill and into the cesspool;” though it is almost certain that some other profane hand did what he ascribes here to the great Pope. Here also he could admire the tomb of his heroine the Empress Galla Placidia, with other similar monuments of the earliest Christian art: and he was naturally chosen as cicerone when a distinguished visitor came to see the churches of Ravenna (169), and earn the rich indulgences to be gained there. Last, but not least, Ravenna was a city of good living. As the Podesta boasted one day to Salimbene (482) “We have such plenty of victuals here that he would be a fool who should seek for more: for a good bowl of salt, full and heaped up, may be had here for a poor penny; and for the same price a man may buy twelve clean boiled eggs at a tavern; I can buy whensoever I will an excellent fat wild-duck for four pence in the proper season; and I have seen times when, if a man would pluck ten ducks, he might keep the half of them for himself.” Here he lived out of reach of actual war, hearing only the distant echoes of those battles in the South which decided the fate of Frederick’s last descendants. One Christmastide, on his way to preach at San Procolo near Faenza, he met the great French host passing southwards to conquer Manfred at Benevento. “And a great miracle then befel: for in that year wherein they came was neither cold nor frost nor ice nor snow nor mire nor rain; but the roads were most fair, easy, and smooth, as though it had been the month of May. Which was the Lord’s doing, for that they came to succour the Church and to exterminate that accursed Manfred, whose iniquities well deserved such a fate: for they were many indeed.* For he had slain, as was said, his brother Conrad, who himself had slain his own brother Charles, born at Ravenna of the Emperor’s English wife.” (470)
Again, he remembers Conradin’s defeat in 1268 by a strange natural phenomenon in which he doubtless saw an omen of that event. (480) “In that year and at that same season, there passed so great a number of those birds which destroy the grapes in the vineyards and are called in the vulgar tongue turili, [thrushes] that every evening between supper-time and twilight the open sky could scarce be seen. And at times there 194 were two or three storeys of them one over another, and they stretched three or four miles, and after a brief space other birds of the same sort would take their place, flying and chattering and murmuring, and as it were, complaining. And so they did every evening for many days, coming down from the mountains to the valleys and filling the whole air. And I with the other Brethren was wont to go out and stand in the open air every evening to see and contemplate and marvel at them: and yet I was not in the open air, for they covered the whole sky. I say in truth that if I had not seen them, I could not have believed any who should have told me thereof.” Salimbene’s church at Ravenna was of course that in which Dante’s bones were first laid, and outside which stands his present tomb: and the open air into which the Friars came out every evening to watch these portents in the sky would have been practically the garden of the present Hôtel Byron.
The one piece of fighting which took place even in the peaceful district of Ravenna was, according to our friar’s account, simply owing to the greed of the Venetians, whom he accuses of methods not unknown to modern diplomacy. (481). They had “taken a fifty-years’ lease” of a castle commanding the mouth of the Ravenna canal; and now, at the very end of their 50 years, instead of preparing to quit, they were rebuilding the wooden bulwarks of their fortress in stone. Again, they entirely neglected the principle of the Open Door; “so utterly closing this canal to the Lombards, that they can draw no supplies from Romagna or the Mark of Ancona: yet, but for this hindrance of the Venetians, they might draw therefrom corn and wine and oil, fish and flesh and salt and pigs, and all good things to sustain man’s life.” Moreover, their trade methods were so astute, and their Visdomini (consuls) were such active political agents, that the Bolognese found themselves outbought and outsold even in their own districts, and were compelled in self-defence to build a fortress at Primario, at the mouth of the Po, which might keep the Venetian fortress in check. (480) And the Venetians came with a great fleet and all siege-engines and battered the tower with mangonels and catapults, and the men of Bologna defended their castle manfully, and the Venetians retired. And the men of Bologna remained there, as I think, some 2 or 3 years and 300 or 500 of them died by reason of the unwholesomeness of the sea-air, and of the multitude of fleas and gnats and flies and gad-flies. And Brother Peregrino di Polesmo of Bologna, of the Order of Friars-Minor, went and made peace between the Bolognese and the Venetians, and the men of Bologna destroyed 195 the castle which they had made and departed thence, and gave much wood of the said castle to the Friars Minor of Ravenna. The Venetians are greedy men and stubborn and outrageous, and they would gladly subdue the whole world to themselves if they could; and they treat boorishly the merchants who go to them, both by selling dear, and by taking tolls in divers places of their district from the same persons at the same time. And if any merchant carries his goods thither for sale he may not bring them back with him: nay, but he must needs sell them there, will-he, nill-he. And if by mishap of the sea any ship other than their own is driven to them with its merchandise, it may not depart thence except it have first sold all its cargo: for the Venetians say that this ship has been driven to them by God’s will, which no man may gainsay.” He had not only little sympathy with Venetian commercial methods, but he also disliked the city for its aloofness from the Guelf cause, and was ready to believe that the disastrous floods which ravaged Venice in 1284 were due to the Papal excommunication for its lukewarmness in the cause of Charles of Anjou. He even shows imperfect sympathy with that ancient pageant which we especially associate with the name of Venice, — the Espousal of the Adriatic — which he traces “partly to a certain idolatrous custom, whereby the Venetians sacrifice to Neptune.”
It seems only fitting, however, that his memories of Ravenna should to us be redolent of the Commedia, though he left the city while Dante was still almost in the nursery. The Middle Ages were rich in pretenders, and Salimbene alludes briefly to many of these: &8212; a false Count of Flanders, who was finally betrayed by his inability to remember at whose hands he had received knighthood: a false Frederick II: a whole crop of false Manfreds, whom Charles of Anjou destroyed one after another. (174; 472). But by far the most picturesque of these is a story of the famous “Casa Traversara,” once so rich in noble lords and ladies, in courtesy and in love, of which Dante laments the extinction. (Purg. xiv. 107). Salimbene tells us of Paolo Traversario and his adversary Anastagio, who are prominent in that strange tale of unrequited passion and repentance which Dryden borrowed from Boccacio3 and entitled Theodore and Honoria”: while the former is also commemorated as “the noblest man of all Romagna” in the 35th story of the still older “Novellino.” He tells us how all the four noblest houses of Ravenna were now extinct; of which the last and greatest was this of the Traversari. After Paolo’s death, the house was represented by a single girl Traversaria, born out of wedlock, 196 whom Innocent IV legitimated and married to his kinsman Tommaso Fogliani. Their only son, however, died in early youth, and the vast possessions of the house passed for a while to Lord Matteo Fogliani. (166) “But in process of time one Gulielmotto of Apulia came with a handmaid named Paschetta; but he gave her the name of Ayca, saying that she was his wife, and daughter to the Lord Paolo Traversario: for in truth the Emperor Frederick had taken Paolo’s daughter Ayca and sent her as a hostage to Apulia. Afterwards, however, when the Emperor waxed wroth against the girl’s father, he caused her to be cast into a burning fiery furnace; and so she gave up her soul to God. For a certain Friar Minor, Ubaldino by name, who dwelt in Apulia, and was a noble of Ravenna, and brother to the Lord Segnorelli, was present and heard her confession. And she was a most fair lady — and no wonder, for she had a most comely father. But this Paschetta, who gave herself out as Ayca, was foul and deformed, and beyond measure miserly and avaricious; for I have spoken with her in the city of Ravenna, and seen her a hundred times. She had learnt from her mistress her father’s manners, and the circumstances of the city of Ravenna: moreover, a certain man of Ravenna, whom I knew well, the Lord Ugo de’ Barci, went oft-times to Apulia, and of his malice instructed her in these things, hoping for a reward if she were exalted. So Gulielmotto came with his wife to Ravenna, and the men of the city rejoiced to hear thereof, and went out gladly to meet them. I also went out with a friar, my comrade, to without the gate of San Lorenzo, and stood waiting on the river-bridge to see what this might be. And as I waited, a certain youth came running, who said to me, ‘And wherefore have not the other Brethren come? In truth, if the Pope with his Cardinals were in Ravenna, he should hasten to behold this rejoicing.’ Hearing this I beheld him, and smiled, saying, ‘Blessed be thou, my son; thou hast spoken well.’ Now when they had entered Ravenna, they went forthwith to the church of San Vitale, to visit the grave of Paolo Traversario. When therefore Paschetta stood face to face with his sepulchre, she raised her voice and began to weep, as though she mourned for her father. And then she began to feign herself sick, for loathing that Traversaria [the illegitimate] should be buried in the sepulchre of her father: and after that they went to the lodgings ordained for them. All this was reported to me by one who saw with his own eyes, my friend Dom Giovanni, monk and sacristan of San Vitale. And on the morrow Gulielmotto spoke in the city Council, for he was a comely knight, and 197 a great orator. And when he had ended his speech in open Council, the citizens promised and offered him more than he himself had asked; for they rejoiced at this revival of the Lord Paolo’s house. The Lord Philip likewise, archbishop of Ravenna, was consenting thereto. So Gulielmotto had these possessions and lands, as well as ever the Lord Paolo himself had possessed them: and he abounded in money and goods, and built courts, and mansions and walls and palaces, and prospered many years, as I saw with mine own eyes. Yet after this he rose up against the Church party, and was driven forth from Ravenna: and all his palaces and buildings were torn down. Moreover, that woman his wife, who feigned herself to be Ayca, had no son by him: yet she would send and fetch boys of five and seven years old from Apulia, whom she said to be her children. At length one of those children died: and she buried him in the sepulchre of the Lord Paolo, bursting forth into bitter lamentation and crying, ‘O glories of Lord Paolo, where must I leave you! O glories of Lord Paolo, where must I leave you! O glories of Lord Paolo, where must I leave you!’ At length, amid the multitude of wars, she ended her days at Forlì: and Gulielmotto returned to Apulia, naked and stripped of his possessions.”
These years at and near Ravenna brought Salimbene into close contact with two more of the most striking figures in the Commedia — Guido da Montefeltro and Tebaldello. He was living both at Forlì and at Faenza when those cities were besieged by the Pope’s Bolognese allies, and when the siege of Faenza was raised by Guido’s brilliant victory at San Procolo, 2½ miles from the city. He describes the terrible slaughter of the Bolognese knights: and how the four thousand common folk, huddled helplessly round their carroccio, presently surrendered in a body. Many of these prisoners, with their hands bound, were butchered in cold blood: the rest were brought in triumph to prison at Faenza. Ricobaldo, writing at Ferrara more than 20 years after the event, speaks with bated breath of this massacre, and breaks off with “But I must say no more, lest even now I awaken men’s half-slumbering hate.”4 The battle took place on the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua, “and therefore” says Salimbene “the Bolognese cannot bear to hear the Saint’s name mentioned in their city.” (397) At Bologna and Reggio the dead knights lay at the church doors, each in his own coffin, while the men of Faenza swarmed out and carried to their houses the plunder of that vast camp which only a day before had threatened the very existence of their city. (490) 198 Six years later, Guido took Sinigaglia and put 1,500 Guelfs (it was said) to the sword (506); but next year saw the election of Martin IV, who soon showed himself desperately in earnest with the war, and who spent upon it the vast hoards which his predecessors had collected for the next Crusade in the East. So, although the men of Forlì held out bravely, yet (516) “every year Pope Martin IV sent against them a mighty army of French and of divers other nations, who destroyed their vines and corn and fruit-trees, with their olives and figs, almonds and fair pomegranates, houses and cattle, casks and vats, and all that pertaineth to country-folk. And the Pope spent in these years many thousands of florins, nay, many pack-loads of gold pieces. So when the city had come to the obedience of the Church, all the moats were filled in and the gates razed, and houses and palaces torn down, and the chief buildings shattered to pieces: and the chief men of that city went out and fled to divers hiding-places, that they might give way to wrath. But Count Guido da Montefeltro, who had been their captain and that of the Imperial party, made peace with the Church, and was banished for a while to Chioggia, after which he was sent to Asti in Lombardy, where he dwelt in great honour, since all loved him for his former probity, and frequent victories, and for his present wise and humble obedience to the Church. Moreover he was noble and full of sense and discreet and well-mannered, liberal and courteous and generous; a doughty knight and of great courage and skill in war. He loved the Order of St. Francis, not only because he had kinsfolk therein, but also that the blessed Francis had delivered him from many perils, and from the dungeon and chains of the Lord Malatesta” — for, as Salimbene had pointed out berore, his great victory was won on the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua, and the siege of Faenza was raised on St. Francis’s day. “Yet for all that he was oft-times grievously offended by certain fools of the Order of Friars Minor. In the city of Asti he had a decent company and household, for many ceased not to lend him a helping hand.” These remarks are all the more interesting for having been written before Guido had become a Franciscan and given his fatal counsel to Boniface VIII.
How difficult it was for him to refuse his services to the Pope, and how thoroughly men of Religion were expected to put even the least religious of their worldly talents at the service of their new Brethren, is shown not only by Salimbene’s friar who was compelled to build siege engines (as will be seen later on,) but also by the two following anecdotes from Cardinal Jacques de Vitry’s sermons.5 “I have heard of a noble knight who left all 199 his great possessions and became a monk, that he might serve God in peace and humility. But the Abbot, seeing that in the World he had been a man of many wiles, sent him to the fair to sell the aged asses of the convent and buy younger beasts. The nobleman loved not the task, but bent his will to obey. So when the buyers asked whether these asses were good and young, he deigned not to dissemble, but answered, ‘Think ye that our convent is come to such poverty as to sell young asses that might be profitable to the house?’ When again men asked why they had so little hair on their tails, he replied, ‘Because they fall oftentimes under their burdens; wherefore, since we raise them again by their tails, these have lost their hair.’6 So when he came home to the cloister without having sold a single beast, then a lay-brother who had been with him accused him before the Chapter. So the abbot and monks, in white-hot wrath against him, set about beating him with stripes as for a grievous fault. He therefore said to them: ‘I left behind in the World a multitude of asses and great possessions: therefore I was unwilling to lie for the sake of your asses, and to harm mine own soul by deceiving my neighbours.’ So thenceforward they never sent him forth on worldly business.” The other story is of a great advocate who for the same reason lost his causes when he had become a monk and was sent to plead for the convent. Both tales appear frequently in Preachers’ manuals, and evidently appealed vividly to the medieval mind.
Salimene twice mentions the double betrayal of Faenza by Tebaldello, whom Dante plunges for that reason into the hell of ice (Inf. xii, 123.), and of whom our friar says (505-6) “He was named Tebaldello de’ Zambrasi, a great and powerful noble of the aforesaid city of Faenza; he was base-born, but his brother Zambrasino, of the Order of Frati Godenti, had given him the half of his father’s inheritance, for that those two brethren only were left of the family, and there was wealth enough for two: therefore his brother gave him an equal share of the inheritance and made him a nobleman. So this Tebaldllo (whom I knew and have seen a hundred times, and who was a man of war, like a second Jephthah) betrayed his city of Faenza into the hands of the Bolognese. At that season the half of the citizens of Faenza were gone with the banished party of Bologna to lay siege to a certain town; so that Tebaldello had watched for a fit time for his evil deed. [Then Pope Martin] sent his army oft-times against Forlì, and the Church party had the under hand, for they were conquered and taken and slain and put to flight: among whom fell Tebaldello also, who had twice betrayed his 200 own city of Faenza; for he was drowned in the moat of the city of Forlì and smothered there together with his charger.”
Such, then, were the events which Salimbene constantly saw and heard during the few remaining years which he spent in Romagna after that quiet lie in Ravenna. In his terrible description of the devastation wrought by civil wars, his deepest pity is for this province of Romagna: and, in spite of all Martin IV’s favours towards his own Order, the good friar never forgave this waste of crusade-money and this drenching of Italian soil with Christian blood.
His old age, as the Chronicle tells us plainly, was spent in his native province of Emilia — mainly at Reggio and Montefalcone, within easy reach of his early home at Parma. He may have settled in Reggio as early as the spring of 1281: he was certainly there in August 1283 (526): and the minuteness with which he chronicles the occurrences of 1282 in that district is a strong proof that he was then living there. The last event referred to is a Papal Bull of May 14, 1288, and the reference does not imply that this was very recent (625): so that there is no reason to quarrel with Gebhart’s guess that he died in 1289, or Clédat’s that it was he himself whose trembling hand scratched out the unflattering notices of Obizzo when that tyrant became master of Reggio in 1290.
The events of these last years have a very special interest for us. Salimbene was of the same generation as Dante’s father; and all that he has told us hitherto is what the poet might have hard from his parents at his own fireside. But now we come to Dante’s own age; for Salimbene came to Reggio a little before the first salutation of Beatrice, and died about the time when Dante shows his real manhood at the battle of Campaldino. Life in the towns of Emilia was very like that in adjoining Tuscany: and what the friar tells us of his own experiences is practically what passed under the poet’s eyes from his 17th to his 25th year.
* “Orribil furon li peccati miei.” Purg. iii. 121.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------1 See note.
1a There is no 1a in the footnotes but it may mean it is also that same as 1 above.