Notes of Travel

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LII, Issue 24, 1 July 1925, Page 25

Notes of Travel

ASSISI. (By J.K.)

In this world all things come to an end. i Arid so, one fine morning, I had to say goodby© to dear old Home, “the city of the soul,” for “the orphans of the heart.” Was it “good-bye” ? I hope against hope that —it was but au revoif, for now, more than —ever,- I know I shall never be at home outside of Italy. - And, thus, out of Lazio, we passed into Umbria, where every town on hill and plain —is a sanctuary of art and learning, and I'where every singing river has a name that -shines in history. Montefrascone, Bolsena, | Orvieto, Narni, Term, Spoleto— pass you —all by was a pain, but time is inexorable, —and after six weeks in the south it had to be economised. Therefore, not until we came to the little station beneath Assisi did we break our jour—ney. A motor car took us rapidly, up the •. steep hill which I often climbed in days when years weighed less heavily on me. Under the very walls of the Church of St. Francis lf : I found a good hostelry, and, having secured ■—a room, started at once to make the old familiar pilgrimage of bygone' days. Coming out of the hotel I paused to look down on the panorama below. Beyond, to the west, were the white towers of Perugia; beneath —was the fertile Umbrian plain, a land of oil and corn and wine; over all was the -peak of Subasio,. dominating the district; and behind were the walls and towers of Assisi Aof hallowed memories. The city, prominent -Jin.which are the arches of the Franciscan v bayl ica, occupies a most picturesque posithph perched between a- battlemented . peak aiM the olive-groves that stretch away down .to Santa Maria degli Angeli on its -plain. But its charm lies in its associationsreli-

gious, historical, and artistic® It was the Asissium of the Romans; it was the cradle of St. Francis and St. Clare; and here Giotto and later artists gave of their best to make the sanctuaries worthy of the two great saints. My first visit was to San Damiano, associated with the early history of the conversion of St. Francis. In this hillside shrine nothing has been changed, and one follows there to-day with vivid interest the story of the conversion and of the subsequent installation of St. Clare and her nuns. You see where Francis prayed when Christ spoke to him from the cross; here is the refectory and here the. oratory of St. Clare; here is her little -garden; and below is the sunny spot where “sweet St. Francis of Assisi” , composed the “Canticle of the Sun.” It is all holy ground and one might-well remove one’s shoes in walking upon it to-day. . Then came the church of St. Clare —Santa. Chiara; then the cathedral, with a beautiful statue of . St. Francis -in front : of that glorious facade, of amber colored marbles, mellowed by centuries like ripe meerschaum. The exquisite tracery of the rose-window, and the wonderful carving of the arches would delight the soul of an artist and keep him there for hours. And at last to the basilica —three churches, one above The other for the crypt is a real church, and over it is a. church which serves but as a vault for the upper basilica. The frescoes and paintings are works of art beyond price, but their real glory is the tomb of the-Saint,. with ; two altars below it, and. two" above, so that four Masses could be said at it simultaneously. Rising betimes next morning, I made my way up the hill, and had the privilege of

celebrating Mass on the papal * altar over the tomb. Then I went below into the crypt and assisted at another (or rather at two Masses) in the crypt; ■ For several ' hours after breakfast I wandered among the streets of this quaint old city, chatting with the people and watching them busily buying and selling in the marketplace. My walking brought me above the towers and out on the Roman theatre, from which I had a glorious view of the Umbrian plain in the morning light. Later I went out through the northern gate and sat down among the olives and watched the peasants coming’ up the steep roads to the city. The. bells of the mules .and donkeys could be heard tinkling afar, and here and there along hills was the flash of the scarlet and white dresses of the girls. An old woman met mo as I returned to the : gate, saluting me, as an Irishwoman might: Che Dio Vaccompagni, signore! —“May God go with you, sir!” It was all as it was in, the days when the blessed feet of Francis and Clare walked these same pathways, among these streets, and through these groves where their memories -are eternal. •••-■* I have not written half enough about this wonderful place, but if any of you were half as tired with walking and,. sight-seeing as I am you would not write at all. So, dear Tablet readers, instead of writing more just now, I send you over tile seas that old peasant -woman’s greeting: “May God go with you all!” , .

To earn the crown of God; His testimony alone, Who will hereafter judge, sufficed—— St. Cyprian.