Besides the human interest of the frescoes it is a delightful
task to study the architecture in each scene, for here, in the Upper
Church, Giotto has built a whole city of little pink houses with
balconies, towers and turrets, of exquisite Gothic basilicas, of temples
and gabled thrones. His priests sit within palaces full of lancet
windows and pointed arches, the groined roofs, as in the Assisan
Church, ablaze with myriads of stars. What love he had for dainty
ornaments, simple, nay almost severe in outline, but perfectly finished; and
he always likes to show the blue sky overhead, or at least peeping through
one of the windows, making the marble seem more lustrous and creamy white.
Would that all Florence had been built by him.
2. _St. Francis giving his
cloak to a poor Knight._
"Going forth one day, as was his wont, in
apparel suited to his state, he met a certain soldier of honour and
courage, but poor and vilely clad; of whose poverty, feeling a tender and
sorrowful compassion, he took off his new clothes and gave them to the
poor man-at-arms."
None are there to witness the kind action of the
young saint who, like another St. Martin, has dismounted to give his mantle
to the poor man in a ravine near a little town enclosed by walls, a church
spire rising upon the opposite hill. Giotto must have been thinking of
the small rock-set towns, with stunted trees growing outside their
walls, in his Tuscan home in the Mugello when he painted this, instead
of the Umbrian town, standing amid vineyards and cornfields above an
open valley with winding rivers, whose church he was decorating. It is
the only one of the series in which the landscape is an important part
of the picture, in the others it is a mere accessory.
3. _The Vision
of St. Francis._
"On the following night, when he was asleep, the
divine mercy showed him a spacious and beautiful palace filled with arms
and military ensigns, all marked with the Cross of Christ to make
known to him that his charitable deed done to the poor soldier for the
love of the great King of heaven should receive an unspeakable
reward."
It will be remembered that after this dream St. Francis started
to join the army of Walter de Brienne, having wrongly interpreted
the vision, which in reality symbolised the army he was eventually to
lead in the service of the Pope (see p. 44). This is, perhaps, the
least successful of the frescoes; probably the subject did not
appeal strongly to the painter (he only seems to have enjoyed inventing
the colonnaded palace with its trefoil windows) and also, as Mr
Ruskin explains: "Giotto never succeeded, to the end of his days,
in representing a figure lying down, and at ease. It is one of the
most curious points in all his character. Just the thing which he
could study from nature without the smallest hindrance, is the thing
he never can paint; while subtleties of form and gesture, which
depend absolutely on their momentariness, and actions in which no model
can stay an instant, he seizes with infallible accuracy."[97]
4. _St.
Francis praying before the Crucifix in San Damiano._
"As he lay
prostrate before a crucifix he was filled with great spiritual
consolation, and gazing with tearful eyes upon the holy cross of the Lord,
he heard with his bodily ears a voice from the crucifix, which said thrice
to him: 'Francis, go and build up My house, which as thou seest, is
falling into ruin.'"
Unfortunately this fresco is much faded and in parts
peeled off; this, combined with the representation of a ruined church, gives
a curious effect of total destruction, as if an earthquake had passed over
the land. The figure of the saint, just visible, and his attitude
of earnest prayer is very charming.
[Illustration: ST. FRANCIS
RENOUNCES THE WORLD (D. ANDERSON--_photo_)]
5. _St. Francis
renounces the world._
"And now his father, ... brought this son, ...
before the Bishop of Assisi to compel him to renounce in his hands all
his inheritance.... As soon, therefore, as he came into the Bishop's
presence, without a moment's delay, neither waiting for his father's
demand nor uttering a word himself, he laid aside all his clothes, and
gave them back to his father.... With marvellous fervour he then turned to
his father, and spoke thus to him in the presence of all: 'Until this hour
I have called thee my father on earth; from henceforth, I may say
confidently, my Father Who art in heaven.'"
This, perhaps the most
interesting of Giotto's frescoes, can be compared with the one in Sta. Croce
at Florence on the same subject, painted when time and labour had given
greater strength to his genius. The Assisan scene is treated with more
simplicity, and, if less perfect as a decorative scheme, possesses quite as
much dramatic interest and vitality. A little block of pink houses
on either side reminds us that we are outside the Bishop's palace in the
Piazza S. Maria Maggiore, where the scene is said to have occurred. Of course
all the Assisans have turned out to see how the quarrel between Bernardone
and his son will end. They stand behind the irate father like a Greek chorus,
while one, evidently a citizen of distinction from his ermine lined cloak and
tippet, restrains Messer Pietro, who is throwing back his arm with the
evident intention of striking his son. Francis' passion for
repairing Assisan churches and ministering to the wants of the poor had
proved a costly business to the thrifty merchant, who loved his money
and had little sympathy with Assisan beggars (sojourners in Assisi
may agree with him). Delightful are the two tiny children who with
one hand clutch up their garments, full of stones to throw at St. Francis.
The bishop is the calmest person there, turning to his priests he seems to
say: "All is well, there is God the Father's hand in the sky (with a little
patience it can be distinguished in the fresco), and we are sure to gain the
day, spite of Pietro's angry words." And so he quietly folds his episcopal
mantle around St. Francis, who from this moment becomes indeed the Child
of heaven. It may seem strange, as Mr Ruskin truly observes, that
St. Francis, one of whose virtues was obedience, should begin life
by disobeying his father, but Giotto means to show that the young
saint was casting off all worldly restraint in order to obey the
Supreme Power, and the scene is a counterpart to Dante's lines referring
to his marriage with the Lady Poverty.
"A dame, to whom none
openeth pleasure's gate More than to death, was, 'gainst his father's
will, His stripling choice: and he did make her his, Before the
spiritual court, by nuptial bonds, And in his father's sight: from day
to day, Then loved her more devoutly."[98]
6. _The dream of
Innocent III._
"He saw in a dream the Lateran Basilica, now falling
into ruin, supported by the shoulders of a poor, despised, and feeble
man. 'Truly,' said he, 'this is he who by his works and his teaching
shall sustain the Church of Christ.'"
In the representations of this
vision painted for Dominican churches, the Lateran is always supported by the
two great founders, Francis and Dominic, who, in their different ways, helped
Innocent in his difficult task of reforming the Church. Giotto shows his
power and the advance art is making under his hand, in the figure of St.
Francis, who with body slightly bent back and one hand on his hip, seems
to support the great weight, while his feet are so firmly planted
that there is no uncomfortable feeling of strain and only a sense
of strength and security. Two men are seated by the bedside of the
Pope, one is asleep while the other keeps watch, and in his slightly
wearied attitude and the reposeful figure of the sleeper, Giotto's
keen observation of the ordinary incidents of every day life is
very apparent.
7. _Innocent III, sanctions the Rule of St.
Francis._
"He was filled with a great and special devotion and love
for the servant of God. He granted all his petitions, and promised
to grant him still greater things. He approved the Rule, gave him a
mission to preach penance, and granted to all the lay brothers in the
company of the servant of God to wear a tonsure smaller than that worn by
priests, and freely to preach the Word of God."
Giotto, in his fresco,
has to represent the most important event in the life of the saint--his
arrival at the papal court when he comes face to face with one of the
greatest of the Roman Pontiffs; and by the simplest possible means the scene
is brought before us. Here are no crimson-robed cardinals, no gilded papal
throne; the bishops grouped behind Innocent are hardly noticed, or even the
brethren who, with hands clasped as though in prayer, press closely to their
leader like a flock of sheep round their shepherd. The eye is so fixed
upon the two central figures, that all else fades away. Giotto has
seized the supreme moment when the Pope, having overcome his fear lest
St. Francis should falter in a life of poverty and prove to be
only another heretical leader of which Italy had already too many, is,
with kingly gesture, giving the Umbrian penitent authority to
preach throughout the land. St. Francis, holding out his hand to receive
his simple Rule, now bearing the papal seals, looks up with steady
gaze; he is the most humble among men kneeling at the feet of
Rome's sovereign, but strong in love, in faith and in knowledge of
the righteousness of his mission. M. Paul Sabatier has
beautifully illustrated the meaning of Giotto when he writes: "On pourrait
croire que le peintre avait trempe ses levres dans la coupe du
Voyant Calabrais [Joachim de Flore] et qu'il a voulu symboliser
dans l'attitude de ces deux hommes la rencontre des representants de
deux ages de l'humanite, celui de la Loi et celui de l'Amour."
8.
_Vision of the Friars at Rivo-Torto._
"Now while the brethren abode in
the place aforesaid, the holy man went on a certain Saturday into the city
of Assisi, for he was to preach on the Sunday morning in the Cathedral
Church. And being thus absent in body from his children, and engaged
in devout prayer to God (as was his custom throughout the night), in
a certain hut in the canon's garden, about midnight, whilst some of the
brethren were asleep and others watching in prayer, a chariot of fire, of
marvellous splendour, was seen to enter the door, and thrice to pass
hither and thither through the house; ..."
Giotto's was not a
nature to find much enjoyment in the portrayal of such events as saints being
carried aloft in fiery chariots, and in dealing with this miracle he
dedicated all his power to representing the astonishment of the brethren who
witness the vision at Rivo-Torto. Two talk together and point to St. Francis
being borne across the heavens by crimson horses, one hastens to awaken his
companions who are huddled together in their hut like tired dogs asleep, and
another starts from his slumbers to hear the wondrous news.
9. _Vision
of Brother Pacifico._
"This friar being in company with the holy man,
entered with him into a certain deserted church, and there, as he was
praying fervently he fell into an ecstacy, and amid many thrones in
heaven he saw one more glorious than all the rest, adorned with precious
stones of most glorious brightness. And marvelling at the surpassing
brightness of that throne, he began anxiously to consider within himself
who should be found worthy to fill it. Then he heard a voice saying to
him: 'This was the throne of one of the fallen angels, and now it is
reserved for the humble Francis.'"
With what devotion St. Francis,
his hands crossed upon his breast, prays upon the steps of the altar, while
the friar behind is intent on asking questions about the marvellous thrones
he sees poised above his head. Nothing can exceed the grace of the
wide-winged angel floating down to earth to record the humility of Francis,
his garments slightly spread by his movement through the air.
10. _St.
Francis chases the Devils away from Arezzo._
"In order to disperse
these seditious powers of the air, he sent as his herald Brother
Sylvester, a man simple as a dove, saying to him: 'Go to the gates of the
city, and there in the Name of Almighty God command the demons by virtue
of holy obedience, that without delay they depart from that
place....'"
The main facts of the legend are followed closely in this
fresco, but St. Bonaventure does not tell us how the miracle was performed,
while Giotto, understanding the soul of Francis, paints him kneeling
outside the gates of Arezzo praying with intense fervour for the salvation
of the city. His faith is so strong that he does not even look up
like Brother Sylvester, to see the demons flee away; some springing
from off the chimneys, others circling above the towers, their
bat-like wings outspread. The figure of Brother Sylvester is very fine, and
the way he is lifting his tunic and stepping forward, as he stretches
out one arm with a gesture of command towards the demons, could not
be rendered with more ease and truth.
11. _St. Francis and Brother
Illuminatus before the Sultan of Egypt._
"When they had gone a little
further, they met with a band of Saracens, who, quickly falling upon them,
like wolves upon a flock of sheep, cruelly seized and bound the servants
of God ... having in many ways afflicted and oppressed them, they were
... according to the holy man's desire, brought into the presence of
the Sultan. And being questioned by that prince whence and for what
purpose they had come ... the servant of Christ, being enlightened from on
high, answered him thus: 'If thou and thy people will be converted to
Christ I will willingly abide with thee. But if thou art doubtful whether
or not to forsake the law of Mohamed for the faith of Christ, command a
great fire to be lighted, and I will go into it with thy priests, that it
may be known which faith should be held to be the most certain and
the most holy.' To whom the Sultan made answer: 'I do not believe
that any of my priests would be willing to expose himself to the fire or
to endure any manner of torment in defence of his faith.' Then said the
holy man: 'If thou wilt promise me for thyself and thy people that thou
wilt embrace the worship of Christ if I come forth unharmed, I will enter
the fire alone.' ... But the Sultan answered that he dared not accept this
challenge, because he feared a sedition of the people."
This
subject, from its dramatic interest, appealed to Giotto, giving full scope to
his powers, both as a story-teller, and as a painter with such genius for
portraying dignity and nobility of character. The principal persons, the
Sultan and St. Francis, are here clearly placed before us as Giotto wished us
to conceive them, and how correctly he realised their characters we learn
from the chronicles of the time. "We saw," writes Jacques de Vitry in one of
his letters, "Brother Francis arrive, who is the founder of the Minorite
Order; he was a simple man, without letters, but very lovable and dear to God
as well as to men. He came while the army of the Crusaders was
under Damietta, and was much respected by all." This is indeed the
man depicted by Giotto in the slight figure of the preacher standing
at the foot of the marble throne, so humble, yet full of that secret power
which won even the Sultan's admiration. But though the story centres in St.
Francis, the person Giotto wishes all to notice is the Sultan, who, far from
being an ignorant heathen to be converted, conveys the idea of a most noble
and kingly person, Malek Camel in short, known throughout the East as the
"Perfect Prince." His mollahs had wished to kill St. Francis and his
companion, and the fine answer he made was worthy of his high character.
"Seigneurs," he said, addressing his visitors, "they have commanded me by
Mahomet and by the law to have your heads cut off. For thus the law commands;
but I will go against the order, or else I should render you bad guerdon
for having risked death to save my soul."
Giotto has chosen the most
dramatic moment when St. Francis offers to go through the ordeal by fire with
the mahommedan priests, to prove the power of the Christian God. With one
look back upon the fire the mollahs gather their robes around them and
hurriedly leave the Sultan's presence; St. Francis points towards the flames
as though he were assuring the Sultan that they will not hurt him, while the
friar behind gazes contemptuously after the retreating figures of
the mollahs.
Dante and Milton in their different ways were able to
give us a vivid idea of fire, flame and heat, and so would Giotto have done
had he expressed his ideas by words instead of in painting; but he was
wise enough not to attempt it in his fresco, and so in lieu of a blaze
of crimson flames we have only what looks like a stunted red
cypress, realistic enough to make us understand the story without drawing
our attention away from the main interest of the scene. In this fresco
we are again reminded of the simple methods, grand and impressive by their
very straightforwardness, by which he brings before us so strange a scene and
accentuates the importance of an event in his own individual way.
12.
_Ecstasy of St. Francis._
This legend is not recounted by St.
Bonaventure, Celano, or in _The Three Companions_, but there is a tradition
of how St. Francis one day in divine communion with God, was wrapt in ecstasy
and his companions saw him raised from the ground in a cloud. All that is
human in the scene Giotto has done as well as possible, but he evidently
found it hard to realise how St. Francis would have looked rising up in
a cloud, so he has devoted himself to rendering truthfully
the astonishment of the disciples who witness the miracle.
13. _The
Institution of the Feast at Greccio._
"... in order to excite the
inhabitants of Greccio to commemorate the nativity of the Infant Jesus
with great devotion, he determined to keep it with all possible solemnity;
and lest he should be accused of lightness or novelty, he asked and
obtained the permission of the sovereign Pontiff. Then he prepared a
manger, and brought hay, an ox and an ass to the place appointed. The
brethren were summoned, the people ran together, the forest resounded with
their voices, and that venerable night was made glorious by many brilliant
lights and sonorous psalms of praise. The man of God stood before the
manger, full of devotion and piety, bathed in tears and radiant with joy;
many masses were said before it, and the Holy Gospel was chanted by
Francis, the Levite of Christ.... A certain valiant and veracious
soldier, Master John of Greccio, who, for the love of Christ, had left
the warfare of this world, and become a dear friend of the holy man,
affirmed that he beheld an Infant marvellously beautiful sleeping in that
manger, whom the blessed Father Francis embraced with both his arms, as if
he would awake him from sleep."
Besides the wonderful way in which Giotto
has succeeded, to use the words of Mr Roger Fry, "in making visible, as it
were, the sudden thrill which penetrates an assembly at a moment of
supreme significance," there is the further interest of knowing that the
scene of the Nativity arranged by St. Francis at Greccio, was the first
of the mystery plays represented in Italy which were the beginning of
the Italian drama. Giotto makes not only Master John of Greccio see
the miracle of the Holy Child lying in the saint's arms and smiling
up into his face, but also those who accompany him and some of the friars,
while the other brethren, singing with mouths wide open like young birds
awaiting their food, are much too occupied to notice what passes around them.
A group of women, their heads swathed in white veils, are entering at the
door, and the whole scene is one of animation and festivity. The marble
canopy, with tall marble columns and gabled towers, over the altar is one of
Giotto's most exquisite and graceful designs. But Giotto the shepherd has not
succeeded so happily in depicting an ox which lies at the saint's feet like
a purring cat.
14. _The Miracle of the Water._
"Another
time, when the man of God wished to go to a certain desert place, that he
might give himself the more freely to contemplation, being very weak, he
rode upon an ass belonging to a poor man. It being a hot summer's day, the
poor man, as he followed the servant of Christ, became weary with the long
way and the steep ascent, and beginning to faint with fatigue and
burning thirst, he called after the saint: 'Behold,' he said, 'I shall die
of thirst unless I can find a little water at once to refresh me.' Then
without delay the man of God got off the ass, and kneeling down with his
hands stretched out to heaven, he ceased not to pray till he knew he was
heard."
Giotto has here rendered the aridity of the summit of La Vernia,
its pinnacles of rocks with stunted trees. Two friars, by now
quite accustomed to miracles, converse together as they lead the donkey
from which St. Francis has dismounted to pray that the thirsty man's
wishes may be gratified. The grouping of the figures repeat the pointed
lines of the landscape, and the whole is harmonious and of great charm
of composition. It was justly admired by Vasari, who thought the
peasant drinking was worthy of "perpetual praise." Florentine writers
were continually harping on what they considered to be Giotto's claim
to immortality, his genius for portraying nature so that his copy
seemed as real as life, an opinion shared by Vasari when he gives his
reason for admiring this particular fresco. "The eager desire," he
says, "with which the man bends down to the water is portrayed with
such marvellous effect, that one could almost believe him to be a
living man actually drinking."
Over the door is a medallion of the
Madonna and Child which once was by Giotto, but now, alas, the eyes of faith
must see his handiwork through several layers of paint with which restorers
have been allowed to cover it. A slightly sardonic smile has been added to
the Madonna, and to appreciate what is left of her charm it is necessary to
look at her from the other end of the church, where the beauty of line
and composition can still be discerned notwithstanding the
barbarous treatment she has undergone.
15. _St. Francis Preaching to
the Birds at Bevagna._
"When he drew near to Bevagna, he came to a
place where a great multitude of birds of different kinds were assembled
together, which, when they saw the holy man, came swiftly to the place,
and saluted him as if they had the use of reason. They all turned
towards him and welcomed him; those which were on the trees bowed their
heads in an unaccustomed manner, and all looked earnestly at him, until he
went to them and seriously admonished them to listen to the Word of the
Lord.... While he spoke these and other such words to them, the birds
rejoiced in a marvellous manner, swelling their throats, spreading their
wings, opening their beaks, and looking at him with great
attention."
This theme has been treated by another artist in the Lower
Church, with little success as we have seen; it is also sometimes
introduced in the predellas of big pictures of the school of Cimabue; but
it remained for Giotto to give us a picture as beautiful in colour
as those left by the early chroniclers in words. He never painted it again
on a large scale, and the small representation in the predella of the picture
in the Louvre follows the Assisan fresco in every detail. Two friars whose
brown habits are tinted with mauve, one tree, a blue, uncertain landscape and
some dozen birds, are all he thought necessary to explain the story, and yet
the whole poetry of St. Francis' life is here, the keynote of his character,
which has made him the most beloved among saints, and the man who though
poor, unlettered and often reviled, was to herald the coming of a new age
in religion, art and literature. With what love he bends towards
his little feathered brethren as he beckons them to him, and they
gather fearlessly round him while he points to the skies and tells them
in simple words their duties towards their Creator.
Another
Florentine, Benozzo Gozzoli, painted this subject; there across the Assisan
valley at Montefalco we can see it. His birds are certainly better drawn,
there are more of them too, and we can even amuse ourselves by distinguishing
among them golden orioles, blackbirds, doves and wood pigeons, but no one
would hesitate to say that real charm and poetry are missing. Giotto's
fresco, painted 600 years ago, is somewhat faded and many of the birds are
partly effaced, but we do not feel it matters much what they are--we only
love the fact that St. Francis called the Umbrian birds around him and
preached them a sermon with the same care as if he had been in the presence
of a pope, and that Giotto believed the legend and took pains with
his work, intending that we also should believe and understand
something of the sweetness of this Umbrian scene.
16. _Death of the
Knight of Celano._
"When the holy man came into the soldier's house
all the family rejoiced greatly to receive this poor one of the Lord. And
before he began to eat, according to his custom, the holy man
offered his usual prayers and praises to God, with his eyes raised
to heaven. When he had finished his prayer, he familiarly called his
kind host aside, and said to him: 'Behold, my host and brother, in
compliance with thy prayers I have come to eat in thy house. But now
attend to that which I say to thee, for thou shalt eat no more here, but
elsewhere. Therefore, confess thy sins with truly penitent contrition; let
nothing remain in thee unrevealed by true confession, for the Lord will
requite thee to-day for the kindness with which thou hast received His
poor servant.' The good man believed these holy words, and disclosing all
his sins in confession to the companion of St. Francis, he set all
his house in order, making himself ready for death, and preparing
himself for it to the best of his power. They then sat down to table, and
the others began to eat, but the spirit of the host immediately departed,
according to the words of the man of God, which foretold his sudden
death."
This is one of the most characteristic of Giotto's works, showing
his power, unique at that time, of touching upon human sorrow
with simplicity, truth and restraint. Here is no exaggerated gesture
of grief, no feigned expression of surprise or false note to make us doubt
the truth of the tragedy that has befallen the house of Celano. But the
movement of the crowd of sorrowing people, the men gazing down on the dead
knight, the women weeping, their fair hair falling about their shoulders,
tell better than any restless movement the awful grief which fills their
hearts. It has happened so suddenly that the friar still sits at table with
his fork in his hand, while St. Francis hast just risen to go to the people's
assistance, while a man in the Florentine dress turns to him seeming, from
the gesture of his hand, to say: "See, your prophecy has been fulfilled but
too soon."
[Illustration: DEATH OF THE KNIGHT OF CELANO (D.
ANDERSON--_photo_)]
17. _St. Francis preaches before Honorius
III._
"Having to preach on a certain day before the Pope and the
cardinals, at the suggestion of the Cardinal of Ostia he learned a sermon
by heart, which he had carefully prepared; when he was about to speak it
for their edification he wholly forgot everything he had to say, so that
he could not utter a word. He related with true humility what had befallen
him, and then, having invoked the aid of the Holy Spirit, he began at once
to move the hearts of these great men...."
In this fine fresco
Giotto has represented St. Francis holding his audience as though spell-bound
by the power of his eloquence, and the contrast is great between the charming
figure of the saint and that of the stern and earnest Pope, who, deep in
thought, is leaning his chin on his hand, perhaps wondering at the strange
chance which has brought the slight brown figure, so dusty and so poorly
clad, so ethereal and so eloquent, into the midst of the papal court. It is
delightful to study the faces and gestures of the listeners; some are all
enthusiasm and interest, like the charming young cardinal in an
orange-tinted robe, whose thoughts seem to be far away following where St.
Francis' burning words are leading them; but the older man gazes critically
at the saint, perhaps saying within himself: "What is this I hear, we must
give up all, our fat benefices, our comfortable Roman palaces, to follow
Christ"; and the cardinal on the right of the Pope also seems surprised at
the new doctrines of love, poverty and sacrifice. Four others lean their
heads on their hands; but how varied are the gestures, from the Pope, all
eagerness and keen attention, to the cardinal bowing his head sadly thinking,
like the man of great possessions, how pleasant it would be to become
perfect, but how impossible it is to leave the goods of this world. St.
Francis' companion is seated at his master's feet as though affirming,
"I follow his teaching, and all he says is right."
18. _The Apparition
of St. Francis._
"For when the illustrious preacher and glorious
Confessor, Anthony, who is now with Christ, was preaching to the brethren
in the chapel at Arles on the title upon the Cross--'Jesus of
Nazareth, the King of the Jews'--a certain friar of approved virtue named
Monaldus, casting his eyes by divine inspiration upon the door of the
chapter-house, beheld, with his bodily eyes, the blessed Francis raised in
the air, blessing the brethren, with his arms outstretched in the form of
a Cross."
The friars sit in various attitudes of somewhat fatigued
attention before St. Anthony who is standing, and none seem as yet to be
aware of the apparition of St. Francis, who appears at the open door under
a Gothic archway, the blue sky behind him. There is a strange feeling
of peace about the scene.
19. _The Stigmata._
"... On the hard rock, 'Twixt Arno and the Tiber, he from Christ
Took the last signet, which his limbs two years Did
carry...."[99]
This fresco is unhappily much ruined; enough however
remains to trace a close resemblance to Giotto's predella of the same subject
now in the Louvre, but where the solemnity of the scene is increased by
the saint being alone with the Seraph upon La Vernia.
*
* * * *
It may be well here to give some of the various
opinions as to the authorship of these frescoes, though in this small book it
is impossible to go at all deeply into the subject. Some, following
Baron von Rumohr, hold that the only paintings in the Upper Church
by Giotto, are the two by the door, the _Miracle of the Water_ and
the _Sermon to the Birds_, while Messrs. Crowe and Cavalcaselle give
also the first of the series and the last five to him, but while
"youthful and feeling his way," and all the rest to Gaddo Gaddi, or
maybe Filippo Rusutti. Lastly, Mr Bernhard Berenson is of opinion
that Giotto's style is to be clearly traced from the first fresco,
_St. Francis honoured by the Simpleton_, to the nineteenth, _The
Stigmata_; and they show so much affinity to the work of the great Florentine
in Sta. Croce and elsewhere, that it is impossible not to agree with
him. In the remaining frescoes, representing the death and miracles of
St. Francis, he sees a close resemblance to the work of the artist
who painted in the chapel of St. Nicholas (Lower Church), and who may
have aided Giotto in the Upper Church before being chosen to continue
his master's work.
20. _Death of St. Francis._
"The hour of
his departure being at hand, he commanded all the brethren who were in
that place to be called to him, and comforted them with consoling words
concerning his death, exhorting them with fatherly affection to the divine
love.... When he had finished these loving admonitions, this man,
most dear to God, commanded that the Book of the Gospels should be
brought to him, and ... his most holy soul being set free and absorbed in
the abyss of the divine glory, the blessed man slept in the
Lord."
This fresco has suffered from the damp and all that clearly
remains are the angels, in whom the artist's feeling for graceful movement
is shown, their flight down towards the dead recalling the rush of
the swallows' wings as they circle in the evening above the towers of
San Francesco.
21. _The Apparitions of St. Francis._
"...
Brother Augustine, a holy and just man, was minister of the Friars at
Lavoro: he being at the point of death, and having for a long time lost
the use of speech, exclaimed suddenly, in the hearing of all who stood
around: 'Wait for me, Father, wait for me; I am coming with
thee....'
"At the same time the Bishop of Assisi was making a
devout pilgrimage to the church of St. Michael, on Mount Gargano. To
him the Blessed Francis appeared on the very night of his departure,
saying: 'Behold I leave the world and go to Heaven.'"
In one fresco the
artist has represented two different scenes, the greater prominence being
given to the dying friar surrounded by many brethren. In neither is shown the
figure of St. Francis, as the artist probably thought that it would have been
difficult to introduce the apparition twice. But while the gesture of the
friar stretching out his arms and the arrangement of the others explain the
story, it would be difficult, without St. Bonaventure's legend, to know the
feelings of the bishop who is so calmly sleeping in the
background.
22. _The Incredulous Knight of Assisi._
"... when
the holy man had departed from this life, and his sacred spirit had
entered its eternal house ... many of the citizens of Assisi were admitted
to see and kiss the Sacred Stigmata. Among these was a certain soldier, a
learned and prudent man, named Jerome, held in high estimation in the
city, who, doubting the miracle of the Sacred Stigmata, and being
incredulous like another Thomas, more boldly and eagerly than the rest
moved the nails in the presence of his fellow-citizens, and touched with
his own hands the hands and feet of the holy man; and while he thus
touched these palpable signs of the wounds of Christ, his heart was healed
and freed from every wound of doubt."
This fresco is so much ruined
that it is difficult to enjoy it as a whole, but some of the figures of the
young acolytes bearing lighted torches, and the priests reading the service
and sprinkling the body with holy water, are very life-like.
23. _The
Mourning of the Nuns of San Damiano._
"Passing by the church of St.
Damian, where that noble virgin, Clare, now glorious in heaven, abode with
the virgins her sisters, the holy body, adorned with celestial jewels [the
marks of the Stigmata], remained there awhile, till those holy
virgins could see and kiss them."
This, the loveliest of the last
nine frescoes, recalls the one in St. Nicholas' Chapel of the three prisoners
imploring the saint's protection; even to the basilica which forms the
background of both. Considering that it is the last farewell of St. Clare and
her companions to St. Francis the artist might have given a more
tragic touch to the scene, but all is made subservient to the rendering
of graceful figures, like the charming nuns who talk together as
they hasten out of San Damiano, whose humble facade of stone the artist
has transformed into a building of marble and mosaic almost rivalling
the glories of such cathedrals as Siena and Orvieto. St. Clare stoops
to kiss the saint while priests and citizens wait to resume their hymns of
praise, and a small child climbs up a tree and tears down branches to strew
upon the road in front of the bier.[100]
24. _The Canonisation of St.
Francis._
"The Sovereign Pontiff, Gregory IX, ... determined with
pious counsel and holy consideration to pay to the holy man that
veneration and honour of which he knew him to be most worthy ... and
coming himself in person to the city of Assisi in the year of our Lord's
Incarnation, 1228, on Sunday the 6th of July, with many ceremonies and
great solemnity, he inscribed the Blessed Father in the catalogue of the
saints."
This fresco is so ruined that it is impossible to form any idea
of its composition; about the only object clearly to be seen is
the sepulchral urn of St. Francis, represented beneath an iron grating
in the church of San Giorgio.
25. _The Dream of Gregory IX, at
Perugia._
"On a certain night, then, as the Pontiff was afterwards
wont to relate with many tears, the Blessed Francis appeared to him in
a dream, and with unwonted severity in his countenance, reproving
him for the doubt which lurked in his heart, raised his right arm,
discovered the wound, and commanded that a vessel should be brought to
receive the blood which issued from his side. The Supreme Pontiff still in
vision, brought him the vessel, which seemed to be filled even to the brim
with the blood which flowed from his side."
We are here left with
an impression that the artist was hampered by not having enough figures for
his composition, and the four men seated on the ground and guarding the Pope,
compare unfavourably with Giotto's fresco of the three grand watchers by
Innocent III, upon the opposite wall.
16. _St. Francis cures the
Wounded Man._
"It happened in the city of Ilerda, in Catalonia, that a
good man, named John, who was very devout to St. Francis, had to
pass through a street, in which certain men were lying in wait to
kill him and ... wounded him with so many dagger-strokes as to leave
him without hope of life.... The poor man's cure was considered impossible
by all the physicians.... And, behold, as the sufferer lay alone on his
bed, frequently calling on the name of Francis ... one stood by him in the
habit of a Friar Minor, who, as it seemed to him, came in by a window, and
calling him by his name, said, 'Because thou hast trusted in me, behold,
the Lord will deliver thee.'"
The artist having here an incident
less difficult to deal with than visions and dreams, betrays a certain humour
in the stout figure of the doctor, who, as he leaves the room, turns to the
two women as though saying, "He has begun to pray, as if that can help him
when I have failed to cure him." Meantime St. Francis, escorted by two
tall and graceful angels with great wings, is laying his hands upon
the wounded man. Here, as in most of these latter frescoes, a single
scene is divided into more than one episode; this seems to us to be
the great difference between them and the works of Giotto, where the
eye is immediately attracted towards the principal figure or figures,
the others only serving to complete the composition.
27. _The last
Confession of the Woman of Benevento._
"... a certain woman who had a
special devotion to St. Francis, went the way of all flesh. Now, all the
clergy being assembled round the corpse to keep the accustomed vigils, and
say the usual psalms and prayers, suddenly that woman rose on her feet,
in presence of them all, on the bier where she lay, and calling to
her one of the priests ... 'Father,' she said, 'I wish to confess. As soon
as I was dead, I was sent to a dreadful dungeon, because I had never
confessed a certain sin which I will now make known to you. But St.
Francis, whom I have ever devoutly served, having prayed for me, I have
been suffered to return to the body, that having revealed that sin, I may
be made worthy of eternal life.' ... She made her confession, therefore,
trembling to the priest, and having received absolution, quietly lay down
on the bier, and slept peacefully in the Lord."
The legend is
dramatic and the artist has not failed to make us feel the great sadness and
solemnity of the scene. A moment more, and the group of people to the left
will come forward to carry the woman away for burial while the relations weep
most bitterly; they stand aside with heads bowed in grief, for already the
presence of death is felt. Only the sorrow of the child, who stretches out
his arms, has passed away upon seeing her rise to speak with the priest. Very
tall and slender are the figures of the women, bending and swaying
together like flowers in a gentle breeze.
28. _St. Francis releases
Peter of Alesia from Prison._
"When Pope Gregory IX, was sitting in
the chair of St. Peter, a certain man named Peter, of the city of Alesia,
on an accusation of heresy, was carried to Rome, and, by command of the
same Pontiff, was given in custody to the Bishop of Tivoli. He,
having been charged to keep him in safety ... bound him with heavy
chains and imprisoned him in a dark dungeon.... This man began to call
with many prayers and tears upon St. Francis ... beseeching him to have
mercy upon him.... About twilight on the vigil of his feast, St. Francis
mercifully appeared to him in prison, and, calling him by his name,
commanded him immediately to arise.... Then, by the power of the presence
of the holy man, he beheld the fetters fall broken from his feet, and the
doors of the prison were unlocked without anyone to open them, so that he
could go forth unbound and free."
Everything here gives the
impression of height; the tall slim figures, the high doorway, and the
slender tower and arches. St. Francis is seen flying up to the skies with the
same swift motion the artist has given to the figure of St. Nicholas in the
Lower Church, and the "Greek Chorus" to the left serves to show surprise at
the unusual occurrence of a prisoner suddenly emerging from his prison with
broken fetters in his hands.
* * * *
*
None should leave the church without looking at the stalls in
the choir; they are by Domenico da San Severino, made in 1501, by
order, as an inscription tells us, of Francesco Sansone, General of
the franciscan order, and friend of Sixtus IV. The artist only took
ten years to execute this really wonderful work; the intarsia figures
of the stalls in pale yellow wood, most of them fancy portraits of
the companions of St. Francis, are remarkable for their form
and character. They betray, in the opinion of Mr Berenson,
Venetian influences of Crivelli and of the school of the
Vivarini.
[Illustration: ARMS OF THE FRANCISCANS FROM THE INTARSIA OF
THE STALLS]
FOOTNOTES:
[95] St. Bonaventure was born in 1221
at Bagnora in Umbria, and became General of the franciscan order. Dante, in
canto xii. of the _Paradiso_, leaves him to sing the praises of St. Dominic,
just as the dominican divine St. Thomas Aquinas had related the story of
St. Francis in the preceding canto.
[96] We have used Miss Lockhart's
translation of St. Bonaventure's _Legenda Santa Francisci_.
[97] J.
Ruskin, _Mornings in Florence_, iii. Before the Soldan.
[98] xi.
_Paradiso_, Cary's translation.
[99] Dante, _Paradiso_, xi., Cary's
translation.
[100] A comparison may be made between the long and slender
body of the saint here with that in the death of St. Francis in Sta.
Croce, where the body is firmly drawn and of more massive proportions. |
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