The Party King

They elected him ‘King of the Revels’.

Giovanni di Bernadone, known to all by his nickname ‘Frenchy’ was the most raucous partygoer in the small town of Assisi. Flaunting his wealth, or more accurately, flaunting his father Pietro’s wealth, he provided the meat for feasting and wine for drinking; always the very best wine and the finest quails and swans roasted for the table.

Some of the town’s old residents called them terrorists, because they tore around the town in the early hours singing loud drinking songs. They raced their expensive horses, the click of the horseshoes loud on the cobbles of the narrow streets, their horses whinnying, whether they were joining in the singing or protesting their treatment was hard to tell.

Frenchy was possibly conceived when Pietro returned from France with cartloads of expensive cloth in about 1190, and Pietro and the expectant mother baptised him as Giovanni but everyone in Assisi knew him from his birth by his nickname.

Later, Pietro and Frenchy set out together on trips to France, the father teaching the son the ways to do business. Doubtless, they caroused in the inns where they stayed, and the father was proud, if sometimes irritated, by the sums Frenchy spent on his friends’ revels.

It was a great time for a young man to be alive, especially if you were looking for action as a knight as Frenchy was.

There were rumours of wars between Emperor and Pope, and on the small scale, Assisi, on the Emperor’s team, went on and off to war with the Papal town of Perugia. In one of these skirmishes, Frenchy was taken prisoner for a year.

But it was a miserable 12 months for the teenaged Frenchy. Knowing that the boy’s father would pay the ransom, the Perugians delayed negotiations until they had extracted the highest price from the rich merchant.

It changed Frenchy. He started to question the extreme wealth into which he was born. He started hanging around some of the old, ruined churches in the forest slopes down from Assisi. He gathered rocks and started re-building them. He was guided by a crucifix that spoke to him, telling him to repair his broken Church.

The rest of the story of Frenchy, Francesco in Italian, Francis to us, is well known.

He gave up his great wealth, determined to live in complete poverty. He broke with his father Pietro, never to be reconciled.

Caring for lepers, announcing Good News in towns and villages, begging for food on the same streets, enjoying the company of rich and poor, humans and animals alike.

Francis and his poor Brothers, within a few short years, were known all over Europe and loved by all.  He is still the world’s favourite saint.

In 1226, exactly 800 years ago, Francis lay dying. He asked for the Brothers to sing a psalm with him.   He asked for them to send for Lady Jacopa to travel from Rome and for her to bring him her almond cookies, Francis’s favourites. By coincidence, the Lady had just arrived with her biccies.  

Surrounded by his Brothers and the Lady Jacopa, his body weakened. Flaunting his wealth, a tattered tunic and some almond crumbs, and yet possessing all things, he died, singing…still partying.