Cambridge University Press 978-0-521-78291-3 - The Image of St Francis: Responses to Sainthood in the Thirteenth Century Rosalind B. Brooke Excerpt More information CHAPTER ONE INTRODUCTION St Francis ‘said: “In pictures of God and the blessed Virgin painted on wood, God and the blessed Virgin are honoured and God and the blessed Virgin are held in mind, yet the wood and the painting ascribe nothing to themselves, because they are just wood and paint; so the servant of God is a kind of painting, that is a creature of God in which God is honoured for the sake of his benefits. But he ought to ascribe nothing to himself, just like the wood or the painting, but should render honour and glory to God alone”’ (SL 104). the soft wax In a celebrated scene in Eadmer’s Life of St Anselm, a fellow abbot described to Anselm his difficulties with the child monks. ‘They are incorrigible ruffians. We never give over beating them day and night, and they only get worse and worse.’ Anselm retorted that his philosophy of education was radically at fault. ‘Are they not human? Are they not flesh and blood like you?...Consider this. You wish to form them in good habits by blows and chastisement alone. Have you ever seen a goldsmith form his leaves of gold and silver into a beautiful figure with blows alone? I think not . In order to mould his leaf into a suitable form he now presses it and strikes it gently with his tool, and now even more gently raises it with careful pressure and gives it shape. So, if you want your boys to be adorned with good habits, you too, besides the pressure of blows, must apply the encouragement and help of fatherly sympathy and gentleness.’1 The goldsmith created an impression, an image; and elsewhere, we are told that Anselm ‘compared the time of youth to a piece of wax of the right consistency for the impress of a seal . If it preserves a mean between...extremes of hardness and softness, when it is stamped with the seal [matrix], it will receive the image clear and whole.’2 The goldsmith passed a message to his patrons – and, if his work survived, to posterity; the 1 Southern 1962/1979, pp. 37–8. 2 Southern 1962/1979, p. 20. For recent interesting studies on images in history and art see Bolvig and Lindley 2003, pp. 3–44. 1 © Cambridge University Press www.cambridge.org Cambridge University Press 978-0-521-78291-3 - The Image of St Francis: Responses to Sainthood in the Thirteenth Century Rosalind B. Brooke Excerpt More information introduction man who makes the impression on the seal creates an image which can be recognised from that day to this as the legal signature of a community or a king – and perhaps too by its beauty it may be an expression of the culture of its day. This book is about the impression Francis made – intentionally and in spite of himself – on contemporaries and on the early generations after his death, and the ways in which he and they expressed it. But the word impression is too faint for our purpose – ittendstosuggestarelativelyslightimpact.SoItalkofhisimage.Unfortunately‘image’ has come to be a cult word, and has had all manner of jargon and mystical meaning attached to it. I have avoided jargon and tried to use it in plain, intelligible senses. When his followers listened to him, reflected on the saint and his message – when buildings rose to commemorate him, when figures in glass and precious metals, and stone, and on wood and plaster were created to record his story – what image of the saint appeared? The modern, intensive study of hagiography has underlined how superficial it is to set it apart as a historical genre on its own – still more, to downgrade it as a kind of fiction, as has often been consciously or semi-consciously done. Eadmer’s Life of St Anselm is an outstanding work of biography; but many, indeed most, of the numerous saints’ lives written in England in the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries were houses built on sand – collections of stories and wonders rarely credible or revealing of the identity and character of the saint. Eadmer was an exceptionally gifted biographer who lived for years on terms of intimacy with his hero Anselm. At the other end of the spectrum were the hagiographers who had little or no material of a historical nature to provide even a plausible core to their narratives; the author of the Life of StRumwold,whoreputedlydiedwhenonlythreedaysold,hadthemostextremeshortage of material.3 One fundamental and obvious feature of Eadmer’s Life is that he was writing about a livingsaint:Anselmwasalivewhenmostofitwaswritten,thoughitwascompletedafter his death. There has been much discussion in recent years about the kind of saintly life which attracted a cult while the individual lived. Sir Richard Southern drew attention, a generation ago, to the tradition of intimate biography of which Eadmer’s was an outstanding early example.4 It was to be followed by the First Life of St Bernard, which was already well under way while Bernard lived. The biographies of St Francis were written after his death, but vivid stories about him soon began to be recorded by people who knew him well.5 The developing interest in contemporary saints combined with the exigencies of the canonisation process to make a clear and determined emphasis on the need for eyewitness accounts the essence of many narratives of the thirteenth century and later.6 This was not new: it can be clearly traced in the Gospel and Epistles of St John – ‘That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with 3 Southern 1962/1979 and Southern 1963; Love 1996, pp. cxl–clxiv, 91–115. 4 Southern 1963, pp. 329–36; cf. Brooke 1967, pp. 179–81. For the tradition of intimate biography in the thirteenth century, see Kleinberg 1992; Blumenfeld-Kosinski and Szell 1991. 5 See pp. 41–2 and ch. 6. 6 From Innocent III’s time on, the popes were insistent on eyewitness evidence: see below, pp. 36–8, 167, 274. 2 © Cambridge University Press www.cambridge.org Cambridge University Press 978-0-521-78291-3 - The Image of St Francis: Responses to Sainthood in the Thirteenth Century Rosalind B. Brooke Excerpt More information the image our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life...declare we unto you’ (1 John 1. 1–3) – words which echoed down the centuries, constantly reappearing in historical narratives and the testimony of witnesses in and outofcanonisationprocesses.Whileitisthecasethattheloveoftruthwasafeeblething in the minds of many who used these phrases, in many more it was not – and it would be quite false to make general statements about the truthfulness of thirteenth-century historical writers based on a few examples of forgers and liars. Eadmer’swords – ‘it is a shocking thing for anyone knowingly to write what is false in sacred histories. For the soul of the writer is slain every time they are read or listened to, since in the things which he has falsely written he tells abominable lies to all his readers’7 – would have found echoes in the minds of many of the authors quoted in this book. In every age for which we have sufficient testimony, including the present, the standards of truthfulness have been infinitely various – but some or many have been faithful witnesses to what they have heard and seen.8 the image A saint who was also the founder of an Order had traditionally been remembered in three ways: in a pious biography or a series of them; in the rule and way of life of his Order; and in his relics. Yet it was curiously rare for a founder to be equally honoured in all three ways. St Robert of Molesme, the founder of the Cistercians, had much less impact on the Order and the Church than St Bernard; and Bernard himself was rather an inspiration than a role model, for some of his characteristic activities – his frequent travels, his political involvement, his preaching of the Second Crusade – were at variance with the spirit of the Carta Caritatis. Bernard was recorded in his biographies and above all in his own writings; much less in his relics.9 St Norbert, founder of the Premonstratensians, was a missionary as much as a canon regular; and his Order was effectivelytakenoutofhishandsafterhistranslationtotheseeofMagdeburg.StGilbert of Sempringham had an excellent Life written about him; his Order followed closely the prescriptions anyway of his later years; and his relics made Sempringham a centre for pilgrimages and miracles.10 But it was a modest Order and a modest centre: Gilbert and theGilbertineswerenomatchforFrancisandthefriars.Francis’sowncontemporary,St Dominic, seems deliberately to have avoided the personality cult: though a remarkable and sometimes impulsive religious leader, he sank his personality in the Order, which became, not a way of life consciously imitating Dominic, but an Order following the 7 Southern 1962/1979, p. 149. But even Eadmer, sadly, had his lapses. Later on, in his Historia Novorum,he added copies of the Canterbury forgeries, and it is very unlikely that he believed in their innocence (C. Brooke 1971, pp. 113–14; Southern 1958, pp. 225–6). Kleinberg 1992 discusses the realistic accounts of living saints in late thirteenth- and fourteenth-century lives which emphasise what was especially striking or eccentric about them; most compelling is his account of Peter of Dacia’s Life of Christina of Stommeln, in which these effects seem to have been enhanced by invention (see esp.