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 AMAPToIaUSTRATE 
 INI 
 
 FLORENCE
 
 A WANDERER IN FLORENCE
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 Anne's Terrible Good Nature 
 A Swan and Her Friends 
 A Wanderer in Holland 
 A Wanderer in London 
 A Wanderer in Paris 
 Character and Comedy 
 Fireside and Sunshine 
 Good Company 
 Her Infinite Variety 
 Highways and Byways in Sussex 
 Listener's Lure 
 Mr. Ingleside 
 London Lavender 
 Over Bemerton's 
 One Day and Another 
 The Friendly Town 
 The Gentlest Art 
 The Hambledon Men 
 The Life of Charles Lamb 
 The Open Road 
 The Second Post 
 The Slowcoach 
 Sir Pulteney 
 A Little of Everything 
 Old Lamps for New 
 and 
 
 The Pocket Edition of the Works of 
 Charles Lamb
 
 THK IH'OMO AM) COMPAM1.K FROM THK VIA I'ECORI
 
 A WANDERER 
 FLORENCE 
 
 BY 
 
 E. V. LUCAS 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A WANDERER IN LONDON," 
 "OVER BEMERTON'S," ETC., ETC. 
 
 WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY 
 
 HARRY MORLEY 
 
 AND THIRTY-EIGHT REPRODUCTIONS FROM PAINTINGS 
 AND SCULPTURE 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1914 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 COPYKIGHT, 1912, 
 
 BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 
 
 Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1912. Reprinted 
 August, 1914.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 SANTA BARBARA COLLEGE LJBRAJ 
 
 5QO^^ 
 <LJ t* a u 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 A SENTENCE from a "Synthetical Guide- 
 -X- book" which is circulated in the Florentine 
 hotels will express what I want to say, at the 
 threshold of this volume, much better than could any 
 unaided words of mine. It runs thus : " The nat- 
 ural kindness, the high spirit, of the Florentine 
 people, the wonderful masterpieces of art created 
 by her great men, who in every age have stood in 
 the front of art and science, rivalize with the gentle 
 smile of her splendid sky to render Florence one of 
 the finest towns of beautiful Italy." These words, 
 written, I feel sure, by a Florentine, and therefore 
 "inspirated" (as he says elsewhere) by a patriotic 
 feeling, are true, and it is my hope that the pages 
 that follow will at once fortify their truth and lead 
 others to test it. 
 
 Like the synthetical author, I too have not thought 
 it necessary to provide " too many informations 
 concerning art and history," but there will be found 
 a few, practically unavoidable, in the gathering to- 
 gether of which I have been indebted to many
 
 vi PREFACE 
 
 authors : notably Vasari, Symonds, Crowe and Cav- 
 alcaselle, Ruskin, Pater, and Baedeker. Among 
 more recent books I would mention Herr Bode's 
 "Florentine Sculptors of the Renaissance," Mr. F. 
 M. Hyett's "Florence," Mr. E. L. S. Horsburgh's 
 " Lorenzo the Magnificent " and " Savonarola," 
 Mr. Gerald S. Davies' " Michelangelo," Mr. W. G. 
 Waters' "Italian Sculptors," and Col. Young's 
 "The Medici." 
 
 I have to thank very heartily a good English 
 Florentine for the construction of the historical 
 
 chart at the end of the volume. 
 
 E. V. L. 
 
 May, 1912
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PAQK 
 
 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 1 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 13 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE DUOMO III : A CEREMONY AND A MUSEUM . . 27 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE CAMPANILE AND BAPTISTERY 36 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI .... 50 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 SAN LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO . . ~". . . 71 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 OR SAN MICHELE AND THE PALAZZO VECCHIO ... 90 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 THE UFPIZI I : HISTORY 109 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE UPFIZI II: THE FIRST Six ROOMS .... 117 
 
 vii
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE UPFIZI III : BOTTICELLI 132 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 THE UFPIZI IV : THE REMAINING ROOMS .... 145 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 "AERIAL FIESOLE" 163 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 THE BADIA AND DANTE 170 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 THE BARGELLO 183 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 S. CROCE 207 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THE ACCADEMIA 224 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 Two MONASTERIES AND A PROCESSION .... 242 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 S. MARCO AND SAVONAROLA 254 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 SS. ANNUNZIATA, THE SPEDALE AND THE ETRUSCANS . 275 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE CASCINE AND THE ARNO , 286
 
 CONTENTS ix 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 S. MARIA NOVELLA 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE AND S. TRINIT! . . 312 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 THE PITTI 326 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 ENGLISH POETS AT FLORENCE 344 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 THE CARMINE AND S. MINIATO 355 
 
 HISTORICAL CHART OF FLORENCE, 1296-1564 . . . 368 
 INDEX.
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 IN COLOUR 
 THE DUOMO AND CAMPANILE, FROM THE VIA PECORI Frontispiece 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 THE CLOISTERS OP SAN LORENZO, SHOWING THE WINDOWS 
 
 OF THE BlBLIOTECA LAURENZIANA 28 
 
 THE VIA CALZAIOLI, FROM THE BAPTISTERY, SHOWING THE 
 
 BlGALLO AND THE TOP OF OR SAN MlCHELE . . 60 
 
 THE PALAZZO VECCHIO 90 
 
 THE LOGGIA OF THE PALAZZO VECCHIO AND THE VIA DE' 
 
 LEONI 118 
 
 THE LOGGIA DE' LANZI, THE DTJOMO, AND THE PALAZZO 
 
 VECCHIO, FROM THE PORTICO OF THE UFFIZI . . 134 
 FlESOLE, FROM THE HILL UNDER THE MONASTERY . . 158 
 THE BADIA AND THE BARGELLO, FROM THE PIAZZA 
 
 S. FIRENZE 180 
 
 INTERIOR OF S. CROCK 208 
 
 THE PONTE S. TRINITA 222 
 
 THE PONTE VECCHIO AND BACK OF THE VIA DE' BARDI 246 
 S. MARIA NOVELLA AND THE CORNER OF THE LOGGIA DI 
 
 S. PAOLO 268 
 
 THE VIA DE' VAGELLAI, FROM THE PIAZZA S. JACOPO 
 
 TRAFOSSI 290 
 
 THE PIAZZA DELLA SIGNORIA ON A WET FRIDAY AFTER- 
 NOON 320 
 
 VIEW OF FLORENCE AT EVENING, FROM THE PIAZZALE 
 
 MICHELANGELO 346 
 
 EVENING AT THE PIAZZALE MICHELANGELO, LOOKING WEST 366 
 
 xi
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 IN MONOTONE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A CANTORIA. By Donatello, in the Museum of the Ca- 
 
 thedral .......... 6 
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 1 By Ghiberti, from his second Bap- 
 
 ABRAHAM AND ISAAC. J tistery Doors .... 16 
 
 THE PROCESSION OP THE MAGI. By Benozzo Gozzoli, in 
 
 the Palazzo Riccardi ....... 38 
 
 TOMB OP LORENZO DE' MEDICI, DUKE OP URBINO. By 
 
 Michelangelo, in the New Sacristy of S. Lorenzo . . 50 
 CHRIST AND S. THOMAS. By Verrocchio, in a niche by 
 
 Donatello and Michelozzo in the wall of Or San 
 
 Michele ....... ... 72 
 
 PUTTO WITH DOLPHIN. By Verrocchio, in the Palazzo 
 
 Vecchio ......... ..80 
 
 MADONNA ADORING. Ascribed to Filippino Lippi, in the 
 
 Uffizi ........... 86 
 
 THE ADORATION OP THE MAGI. By Leonardo da Vinci, 
 
 in the Uffizi ......... 100 
 
 MADONNA AND CHILD. By Luca Signorelli, in the Uffizi . 110 
 t THE BIRTH OP VENTJS. By Botticelli, in the Uffizi . . 122 
 THE ANNUNCIATION. By Botticelli, in the Uffizi . . 130 
 SAN GIACOMO. By Andrea del Sarto, in the Uffizi . . 138 
 THE MADONNA DEL CARDELLINO. By Raphael, in the 
 
 Uffizi .... ....... 146 
 
 THE MADONNA DEL Pozzo. By Franciabigio, in the Uffizi 154 
 MONUMENT TO COUNT UGO. By Mino da Fiesole, in the 
 
 Badia ........... 164 
 
 xiii
 
 xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FAcma 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Q f By Donatella, in the Bargello .... 172 
 [ By Verrocchio, in the Bargello . . . .172 
 
 ST. GEORGE. By Donatello, in the Bargello . . . 176 
 
 MADONNA AND CHILD. By Verrocchio, in the Bargello . 186 
 MADONNA AND CHILD. By Luca della Robbia, in the 
 
 Bargello 192 
 
 BUST OF A BOY. By Luca or Andrea della Robbia, in the 
 
 Bargello 200 
 
 * MONUMENT TO CARLO MARZUPPINI. By Desiderio da 
 
 Settignano, in S. Croce 212 
 
 DAVID. By Michelangelo, in the Accademia . . . 218 
 THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. By Fra Angelico, in the Ac- 
 cademia 228 
 
 THE ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS. By Ghirlandaio, in 
 
 the Accademia 236 
 
 THE VISION OP S. BERNARD. By Fra Bartolommeo, in 
 
 the Accademia 256 
 
 VIRGIN AND CHILD ENTHRONED, WITH SAINTS. By Botti- 
 celli, in the Accademia 264 
 
 PRIMAVERA. By Botticelli, in the Accademia . . . 272 
 THE CORONATION OP THE VIRGIN. By Fra Angelico, in 
 
 the Convent of S. Marco 280 
 
 THE ANNUNCIATION. By Luca della Robbia, in the Spe- 
 
 dale degli Innocenti 298 
 
 THE BIRTH OP THE VIRGIN. By Ghirlandaio, in S. Maria 
 
 Novella 306 
 
 THE MADONNA DEL GRANDUCA. By Raphael, in the Pitti 314 
 
 THE MADONNA DELLA SEDIA. By Raphael, in the Pitti . 328 
 
 THE CONCERT. By Giorgione, in the Pitti .... 334 
 
 MADONNA ADORING. By Botticini, in the Pitti . . . 340 
 
 THE MADONNA AND CHILDREN. By Perugino, in the Pitti 352 
 
 * A GIPSY. By Boccaccio Boccaccini, in the Pitti . . 360 
 
 All the illustrations are from photographs by G. Brogi, except those marked *, 
 which are by Fratelli Alinari, and that marked t, which is by R. Anderson.
 
 A WANDERER IN FLORENCE
 
 A WANDERER IN FLORENCE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 
 
 The City of the Miracle The Marble Companions Twilight and 
 Immensity Arnolfo di Cambio Dante's seat Ruskin's " Shepherd " 
 Giotto the various Giotto's fun The indomitable Brunelleschi 
 Makers of Florence The present fagade. 
 
 ALL visitors to Florence make first for the Duomo. 
 Let us do the same. 
 
 The real name of the Duomo is the Cathedral of S. 
 Maria del Fiore, or St. Mary of the Flowers, the flower 
 being the Florentine lily. Florence herself is called the City 
 of Flowers, and that, in the spring and summer, is a happy 
 enough description. But in the winter it fails. A name 
 appropriate to all the seasons would be the City of the 
 Miracle, the miracle being the Renaissance. For though 
 all over Italy traces of the miracle are apparent, Florence 
 was its very home and still can point to the greatest 
 number of its achievements. Giotto (at the beginning of 
 this quickening movement) may at Assisi have been more 
 inspired as a painter ; but here is his campanile and here 
 are his S. Maria Novella and S. Croce frescoes. Fra An- 
 gelico and Donatello (in the midst of it) were never more 
 B 1
 
 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 
 
 inspired than here, where they worked and died. Michel- 
 angelo (at the end of it) may be more surprising in the 
 Vatican ; but here are his wonderful Medici tombs. How 
 it came about that between the years 1300 and 1500 Italian 
 soil and chiefly Tuscan soil threw up such masters, 
 not only with the will and spirit to do what they did but 
 with the power too, no one will ever be able to explain. But 
 there it is. In the history of the world two centuries were 
 suddenly given mysteriously to the activities of Italian 
 men of humane genius and as suddenly the Divine gift was 
 withdrawn. And to see the very flower of these two 
 centuries it is to Florence we must go. 
 
 It is best to enter the Piazza del Duomo from the Via de' 
 Martelli, the Via de' Cerretani, the Via Calzaioli, or the 
 Via Pecori, because then one comes instantly upon the 
 campanile too. The upper windows so very lovely 
 may have been visible at the end of the streets, with 
 Brunelleschi's warm dome high in the sky beside them, but 
 that was not to diminish the effect of the first sight of the 
 whole. Duomo and campanile make as fair a couple as 
 ever builders brought together : the immense comfortable 
 church so solidly set upon the earth, and at its side this 
 delicate, slender marble creature, all gaiety and lightness, 
 which as surely springs from roots within the earth. For 
 one cannot be long in Florence, looking at this tower every 
 day and many times a day, both from near and far, with- 
 out being perfectly certain that it grows and from a bulb, 
 I think and was never really built at all, whatever the 
 records may aver. 
 
 The interior of the Duomo is so unexpected that one 
 has the feeling of having entered, by some extraordinary 
 chance, the wrong building. Outside it was so garish with 
 its coloured marbles, under the southern sky ; outside, too,
 
 IMMENSITY AND GLOOM 8 
 
 one's ears were filled with all the shattering noises in which 
 Florence is an adept; and then, one step, and behold 
 nothing but vast and silent gloom. This surprise is the 
 more emphatic if one happens already to have been hi the 
 Baptistery. For the Baptistery is also coloured marble 
 without, yet within it is coloured marble and mosaic too : 
 there is no disparity; whereas in the Duomo the walls 
 have a Northern grey and the columns are brown. Aus- 
 terity and immensity join forces. 
 
 When all is said the chief merit of the Duomo is this 
 immensity. Such works of art as it has are not very notice- 
 able, or at any rate do not insist upon being seen ; but in 
 its vastness it overpowers. Great as are some of the 
 churches of Florence, I suppose three or four of them could 
 be packed within this one. And mere size with a dim 
 light and a savour of incense is enough : it carries religion. 
 No need for masses and chants or any ceremony whatever : 
 the world is shut out, one is on terms with the infinite. 
 A forest exercises the same spell; among mountains one 
 feels it; but in such a cathedral as the Duomo one 
 feels it perhaps most of all, for it is the work of man, yet 
 touched with mystery and wonder, and the knowledge 
 that man is the author of such a marvel adds to its 
 greatness. 
 
 The interior is so dim and strange as to be for a time 
 sheer terra incognita, and to see a bat flitting from side 
 to side, as I have often done even in the morning, is to 
 receive no shock. In such a twilight land there must 
 naturally be bats, one thinks. The darkness is due not to 
 lack of windows, but to time. The windows are there, but 
 they have become opaque. None of the coloured ones in 
 the aisle allows more than a filtration of light through it ; 
 there are only the plain, circular ones high up and those
 
 4 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 
 
 rich, coloured, circular ones under the dome to do the work. 
 In a little while, however, one's eyes not only become accus- 
 tomed to the twilight but are very grateful for it; and 
 beginning to look inquiringly about, as they ever do in 
 this city of beauty, they observe, just inside, an instant 
 reminder of the antiseptic qualities of Italy. For by the 
 first great pillar stands a receptacle for holy water, with a 
 pretty and charming angelic figure upon it, which from its 
 air of newness you would think was a recent gift to the 
 cathedral by a grateful Florentine. It is six hundred years 
 old and perhaps was designed by Giotto himself. 
 
 The emptiness of the Duomo is another of its charms. 
 Nothing is allowed to impair the vista as you stand by the 
 western entrance : the floor has no chairs ; the great 
 columns rise from it in the gloom as if they, too, were 
 rooted. The walls, too, are bare, save for a few tablets. 
 
 The history of the building is briefly this. The first 
 cathedral of Florence was the Baptistery, and S. John the 
 Baptist is still the patron saint of the city. Then in 1182 
 the cathedral was transferred to S. Reparata, which 
 stood on part of the site of the Duomo, and in 1294 the 
 decision to rebuild S. Reparata magnificently was arrived 
 at, and Arnolfo di Cambio was instructed to draw up plans. 
 Arnolfo, whom we see not only on a tablet in the left aisle, 
 in relief, with his plan, but also more than life size, seated 
 beside Brunelleschi on the Palazzo de' Canonici on the 
 south side of the cathedral, facing the door, was then sixty- 
 two and an architect of great reputation. Born in 1232, 
 he had studied under Niccolo Pisano, the sculptor of the 
 famous pulpit at Pisa (now in the museum there), of that 
 in the cathedral in Siena, and of the fountain at Perugia (in 
 all of which Arnolfo probably helped), and the designer of 
 many buildings all over Italy. Arnolfo's own unaided
 
 THE SASSO DI DANTE 5 
 
 sculpture may be seen at its best in the ciborium in 
 S. Paolo Fuori le Mura in Rome; but it is chiefly as an 
 architect that he is now known. He had already given 
 Florence her extended walls and some of her most beautiful 
 buildings the Or San Michele and the Badia and simul- 
 taneously he designed S. Croce and the Palazzo Vecchio. 
 Vasari has it that Arnolfo was assisted on the Duomo by 
 Cimabue ; but that is doubtful. 
 
 The foundations were consecrated in 1296 and the first 
 stone laid on September 8th, 1298, and no one was more 
 interested in its early progress than a young, grave lawyer 
 who used to sit on a stone seat on the south side and watch 
 the builders, little thinking how soon he was to be driven 
 from Florence for ever. This seat the Sasso di Dante 
 was still to be seen when Wordsworth visited Florence in 
 1837, for he wrote a sonnet in which he tells us that he in 
 reverence sate there too, "and, for a moment, filled that 
 empty Throne." But one can do so no longer, for the 
 place which it occupied has been built over and only 
 a slab in the wall with an inscription (on the house next 
 the Palazzo de' Canonici) marks the site. 
 
 Arnolfo died in 1310, and thereupon there seems to have 
 been a cessation or slackening of work, due no doubt to 
 the disturbed state of the city, which was in the throes 
 of costly wars and embroilments. Not until 1332 is there 
 definite news of its progress, by which time the work had 
 passed into the control of the Arte della Lana ; but in 
 that year, although Florentine affairs were by no means 
 as flourishing as they should be, and a flood in the Arno 
 had just destroyed three or four of the bridges, a new 
 architect was appointed, in the person of the most various 
 and creative man in the history of the Renaissance none 
 other than Giotto himself, who had already received the
 
 6 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 
 
 commission to design the campanile which should stand at 
 the cathedral's side. 
 
 Giotto was the son of a small farmer at Vespignano, near 
 Florence. He was instructed in art by Cimabue, who dis- 
 covered him drawing a lamb on a stone while herding 
 sheep, and took him as his pupil. Cimabue, of whom more 
 is said, together with more of Giotto as a painter, in the 
 chapter on the Accademia, had died in 1302, leaving 
 Giotto far beyond all living artists, and Giotto, between 
 the age of fifty and sixty, was now residing in Cimabue's 
 house. He had already painted frescoes in the Bargello (in- 
 troducing his friend Dante), in S. Maria Novella, S. Croce, 
 and elsewhere in Italy, particularly in the upper and lower 
 churches at Assisi, and at the Madonna dell' Arena chapel 
 at Padua when Dante was staying there during his exile. 
 In those days no man was painter only or architect only ; 
 an all-round knowledge of both arts and crafts was desired 
 by every ambitious youth who was attracted by the,, wish 
 to make beautiful things, and Giotto was a universal 
 master. It was not then surprising that on his settling 
 finally in Florence he should be invited to design a cam- 
 panile to stand for ever beside the cathedral, or that he 
 should be appointed superintendent of the cathedral works. 
 
 Giotto did not live to see even his tower completed it 
 is the unhappy destiny of architects to die too soon but 
 he was able during the four years left him to find time for 
 certain accessory decorations, of which more will be said 
 later, and also to paint for S. Trinita the picture which 
 we shall see in the Accademia, together with a few other 
 works, since perished, for the Badia and S. Giorgio. He 
 died in 1336 and was buried in the cathedral, as the tablet, 
 with Benedetto da Maiano's bust of him, tells. He is also 
 to be seen full length, in stone, in a niche at the Uffizi ;
 
 GIOTTO THE HUMORIST 7 
 
 but the figure is misleading, for if Vasari is to be trusted 
 (and for my part I find it amusing to trust him as much 
 as possible) the master was insignificant in size. 
 
 Giotto has suffered, I think, in reputation, from Ruskin, 
 who took him peculiarly under his wing, persistently 
 called him "the Shepherd," and made him appear as some- 
 thing between a Sunday-school superintendent and the 
 Creator. The "Mornings in Florence" and "Giotto and 
 his Works in Padua" so insist upon the artist's holiness and 
 conscious purpose in all he did that his genial worldliness, 
 shrewdness, and humour, as brought out by Dante, Vasari, 
 Sacchetti, and Boccaccio, are utterly excluded. What we 
 see is an intense saint where really was a very robust man. 
 Sacchetti 's story of Giotto one day stumbling over a pig 
 that ran between his legs and remarking, "And serve me 
 right ; for I've made thousands with the help of pigs' 
 bristles and never once given them even a cup of broth," 
 helps to adjust the balance, while to his friend Dante he 
 made a reply, so witty that the poet could not forget his 
 admiration, in answer to his question how was it that 
 Giotto's pictures were so beautiful and his six children so 
 ugly ; but I must leave the reader to hunt it for himself, 
 as these are modest pages. Better still, for its dry humour, 
 was his answer to King Robert of Naples, who had com- 
 manded him to that city to paint some Scriptural scenes, 
 and, visiting the artist while he worked, on a very hot 
 day, remarked, "Giotto, if I were you I should leave off 
 painting for a while." "Yes," replied Giotto, "if I were 
 you I should." 
 
 To Giotto happily we come again and again in this book. 
 Enough at present to say that upon his death in 1336 he 
 was buried, like Arnolfo, in the cathedral, where the tablet 
 to his memory may be studied, and was succeeded as archi-
 
 8 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 
 
 tect, both of the church and the tower, by his friend and 
 assistant, Andrea Pisano, whose chief title to fame is his 
 Baptistery doors and the carving, which we are soon to ex- 
 amine, of the scenes round the base of the campanile. He, 
 too, died in 1348 before the tower was finished. 
 
 Francesco Talenti was next called in, again to superintend 
 both buildings, and not only to superintend but to extend 
 the plans of the cathedral. Arnolfo and Giotto had both 
 worked upon a smaller scale ; Talenti determined the pres- 
 ent floor dimensions. The revised fagade was the work of 
 a committee of artists, among them Giotto's godson and 
 disciple, Taddeo Gaddi, then busy with the Ponte Vecchio, 
 and Andrea Orcagna, whose tabernacle we shall see at Or 
 San Michele. And so the work went on until the main 
 structure was complete in the thirteen-seventies. 
 
 Another longish interval then came, in which nothing 
 of note in the construction occurred, and the next interest- 
 ing date is 1418, when a competition for the design for the 
 dome was announced, the work to be given eventually to 
 one Filippo Brunelleschi, then an ambitious and nervously 
 determined man, well known in Florence as an architect, 
 of forty-one. Brunelleschi, who, again according to Vasari, 
 was small, and therefore as different as may be from the 
 figure which is seated on the clergy house opposite the south 
 door of the cathedral, watching his handiwork, was born in 
 1377, the son of a well-to-do Florentine of good family who 
 wished to make him a notary. The boy, however, wanted 
 to be an artist, and was therefore placed with a goldsmith, 
 which was in those days the natural course. As a youth 
 he attempted everything, being of a pertinacious and in- 
 quiring mind, and he was also a great debater and student 
 of Dante ; and, taking to sculpture, he was one of those 
 who, as we shall see in a later chapter, competed for the
 
 FILIPPO BRUNELLESCHI 9 
 
 commission for the Baptistery gates. It was indeed his 
 failure in that competition which decided him to con- 
 centrate on architecture. That he was a fine sculptor his 
 competitive design, now preserved in the Bargello, and his 
 Christ crucified in S. Maria Novella, prove ; but in leading 
 him to architecture the stars undoubtedly did rightly. 
 
 It was in 1403 that the decision giving Ghiberti the 
 Baptistery commission was made, when Brunelleschi was 
 twenty-six and Donatello, destined to be his life-long friend, 
 was seventeen ; and when Brunelleschi decided to go to 
 Rome for the study of his new branch of industry, archi- 
 tecture, Donatello went too. There they worked together, 
 copying and measuring everything of beauty, Brunelleschi 
 having always before his mind the problem of how to place 
 a dome upon the cathedral of his native city. But, having 
 a shrewd knowledge of human nature and immense patience, 
 he did not hasten to urge upon the authorities his claims as 
 the heaven-born architect, but contented himself with 
 smaller works and even assisted his rival Ghiberti with 
 his gates, joining at that task Donatello and Luca della 
 Robbia, and giving lessons in perspective to a youth who 
 was to do more than any man after Giotto to assure the 
 great days of painting and become the exemplar of the 
 finest masters Masaccio. 
 
 It was not until 1419 that Brunelleschi's persistence and 
 belief in his own powers satisfied the controllers of the 
 cathedral works that he might perhaps be as good as his 
 word and was the right man to build the dome ; but at last 
 he was able to begin. 1 For the story of his difficulties, 
 told minutely and probably with sufficient accuracy, one 
 
 1 One of Brunelleschi's devices to bring before the authorities an idea 
 of the dome he projected, was of standing an egg on end, as Columbus is 
 famed for doing, fully twenty years before Columbus was born.
 
 10 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 
 
 must go to Vasari : it is well worth reading, and is a lurid 
 commentary on the suspicions and jealousies of the world. 
 The building of the dome, without scaffolding, occupied 
 fourteen years, Brunelleschi's device embracing two domes, 
 one within the other, tied together with stone for material 
 support and strength. It is because of this inner dome 
 that the impression of its size, from within the cathedral, 
 can disappoint. Meanwhile, in spite of all the wear and 
 tear of the work, the satisfying of incredulous busybodies, 
 and the removal of such an incubus as Ghiberti, who be- 
 cause he was a superb modeller of bronze reliefs was made 
 for a while joint architect with a salary that Brunelleschi 
 felt should either be his own or no one's, the little man found 
 time also to build beautiful churches and cloisters all over 
 Florence. He lived to see his dome finished and the 
 cathedral consecrated by Pope Eugenius IV in 1436, dying 
 ten years later. He was buried in the cathedral, and his 
 adopted son and pupil, Buggiano, made the head of him on 
 the tablet to his memory. 
 
 Brunelleschi's lantern, the model of which from his own 
 hand we shall see in the museum of the cathedral, was not 
 placed on the dome until 1462. The copper ball above it 
 was the work of Verrocchio. In 1912 there are still want- 
 ing many yards of stone border to the dome. 
 
 Of the man himself we know little, except that he was 
 of iron tenacity and lived for his work. Vasari calls him 
 witty, but gives a not good example of his wit ; he seems 
 to have been philanthropic and a patron of poor artists, 
 and he grieved deeply at the untimely death of Masaccio, 
 who painted him in one of the Carmine frescoes, together 
 with Donatello and other Florentines. 
 
 As one walks about Florence, visiting this church and 
 that, and peering into cool cloisters, one's mind is always
 
 MAKERS OF FLORENCE 11 
 
 intent upon the sculpture or paintings that may be pre- 
 served there for the delectation of the eye. The tendency 
 is to think little of the architect who made the buildings 
 where they are treasured. Asked to name the greatest 
 makers of this beautiful Florence, the ordinary visitor would 
 say Michelangelo, Giotto, Raphael, Donatello, the della Rob- 
 bias, Ghirlandaio, and Andrea del Sarto : all before Brunel- 
 leschi, even if he named him at all. But this is wrong. 
 Not even Michelangelo did so much for Florence as he. 
 Michelangelo was no doubt the greatest individualist in the 
 whole history of art, and everything that he did grips the 
 memory in a vice; but Florence without Michelangelo 
 would still be very nearly Florence, whereas Florence with- 
 out Brunelleschi is unthinkable. No dome to the cathe- 
 dral, first of all ; no S. Lorenzo church or cloisters ; no S. 
 Croce cloisters or Pazzi chapel; no Badia of Fiesole. 
 Honour where honour is due. We should be singing the 
 praises of Filippo Brunelleschi in every quarter of the city. 
 
 After Brunelleschi the chief architect of the cathedral 
 was Giuliano da Maiano, the artist of the beautiful in- 
 tarsia woodwork in the sacristy, and the uncle of Benedetto 
 da Maiano who made the S. Croce pulpit. 
 
 The present facade is the work of the architect Emilio 
 de Fabris, whose tablet is to be seen on the left wall. It 
 was finished in 1887, five hundred and more years after 
 the abandonment of Arnolfo's original design and three 
 hundred and more years after the destruction of the second 
 one, begun in 1357 and demolished in 1587. Of Arnolfo's 
 fagade the primitive seated statue of Boniface VIII (or John 
 XXII) just inside the cathedral is, with a bishop in one of 
 the sacristies, the only remnant ; while of the second f agade", 
 for which Donatello and other early Renaissance sculptors 
 worked, the giant S. John the Evangelist, in the left aisle,
 
 12 THE DUOMO I : ITS CONSTRUCTION 
 
 is perhaps the most important relic. Other statues in the 
 cathedral were also there, while the central figure the 
 Madonna with enamel eyes may be seen in the cathedral 
 museum. Although not great, the group of the Madonna 
 and Child now over the central door of the Duomo has 
 much charm and benignancy. 
 
 The present fagade, although attractive as a mass of light, 
 is not really good. Its patterns are trivial, its paintings 
 and statues commonplace ; and I personally have the feel- 
 ing that it would have been more fitting had Giotto's 
 marble been supplied rather with a contrast than an imita- 
 tion. As it is, it is not till Giotto's tower soars above the 
 fagade that one can rightly (from the front) appreciate its 
 roseate delicacy, so strong is this rival.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 Dante's picture Sir John Hawkwood Ancestor and Descendant 
 The Pazzi Conspiracy Squeamish Montesecco Giuliano de' Medici dies 
 Lorenzo's escape Vengeance on the Pazzi Botticelli's cartoon 
 High Mass Luca della Robbia Michelangelo nearing the end The 
 Miracles of Zenobius East and West meet in splendour Marsilio 
 Ficino and the New Learning Beautiful glass. 
 
 the four men most concerned in the, structure of the 
 Duomo I have already spoken. There are other men 
 held in memory there, and certain paintings and statues, of 
 which I wish to speak now. 
 
 The picture of Dante in the left aisle was painted by 
 command of the Republic in 1465, one hundred and sixty- 
 three years after his banishment from the city. Lectures 
 on Dante were frequently delivered in the churches of Flor- 
 ence during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and it 
 was interesting for those attending them to have a portrait 
 on the wall. This picture was painted by Domenico di 
 Michelino, the portrait of Dante being prepared for him by 
 Alessio Baldovinetti, who probably took it from Giotto's 
 fresco in the chapel of the Podesta at the Bargello. In this 
 picture Dante stands between the Inferno and a concen- 
 trated Florence in which portions of the Duomo, the 
 Signoria, the Badia, the Bargello, and Or San Michele are 
 visible. Behind him is Paradise. In his hand is the " Divine 
 
 13
 
 14 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 Comedy." I say no more of the poet here, because a large 
 part of the chapter on the Badia is given to him. 
 
 Near the Dante picture in the left aisle are two Dona- 
 tellos the massive S. John the Evangelist, seated, who 
 might have given ideas to Michelangelo for his Moses a 
 century and more later ; and, nearer the door, between the 
 tablets to De Fabris and Squarciaparello, the so-called Pog- 
 gio Bracciolini, a witty Italian statesman and Humanist 
 and friend of the Medici, who, however, since he was much 
 younger than this figure at the time of its exhibition, and 
 is not known to have visited Florence till later, probably 
 did not sit for it. But it is a powerful and very natural 
 work, although its author never intended it to stand on 
 any floor, even of so dim a cathedral as this. The S. John, 
 I may say, was brought from the old fagade not Arnolfo's, 
 but the committee's facade where it had a niche about 
 ten feet from the ground. The Poggio was also on this 
 facade, but higher. It was Poggio's son, Jacopo, who 
 took part in the Pazzi Conspiracy, of which we are about 
 to read, and was very properly hanged for it. 
 
 Of the two pictures on the entrance wall, so high as to 
 be imperfectly seen, that on the right as you face it has 
 peculiar interest to English visitors, for (painted by Paolo 
 Uccello, whose great battle piece enriches our National 
 Gallery) it represents Sir John Hawkwood, an English 
 free lance and head of the famous White Company, who, 
 after some successful raids on Papal territory in Provence, 
 put his sword, his military genius, and his bravoes at the 
 service of the highest bidder among the warlike cities and 
 provinces of Italy, and, eventually passing wholly into the 
 employment of Florence (after harrying her for other pay- 
 masters for some years), delivered her very signally from 
 her enemies in 1392. Hawkwood was an Essex man, the
 
 A FIRE-EATER 15 
 
 son of a tanner at Hinckford, and was born there early in 
 the fourteenth century. He seems to have reached France 
 as an archer under Edward III, and to have remained a free 
 hooter, passing on to Italy, about 1362, to engage joyously 
 in as much fighting as any English commander can ever 
 have had, for some thirty years, with very good pay for it. 
 Although, by all accounts, a very Salomon Brazenhead, 
 Hawkwood had enough dignity to be appointed English 
 Ambassador to Rome, and later to Florence, which he made 
 his home, and where he died in 1394. He was buried in the 
 Duomo, on the north side of the choir, and was to have re- 
 posed beneath a sumptuous monument made under his own 
 instructions, with frescoes by Taddeo Gaddi and Giuliano 
 d' Arrigo ; but something intervened, and Uccello's fresco 
 was used instead, and this, some sixty years ago, was trans- 
 ferred to canvas and moved to the position in which it now 
 is seen. 
 
 Hawkwood's life, briskly told by a full-blooded hand, 
 would make a fine book. One pleasant story at least is 
 related of him, that on being beset by some begging friars 
 who prefaced their mendicancy with the words, " God give 
 you peace," he answered, "God take away your alms"; 
 and, on their protesting, reminded them that such peace 
 was the last thing he required, since should their pious wish 
 come true he would die of hunger. One of the daughters 
 of this fire-eater married John Shelley, and thus became 
 an ancestress of Shelley the poet, who, as it chances, also 
 found a home for a while in this city, almost within hailing 
 distance of his ancestor's tomb and portrait, and here wrote 
 not only his "Ode to the West Wind," but his caustic 
 satire, "Peter Bell the Third." 
 
 Hawkwood's name is steeped sufficiently in carnage ; but 
 we get to the scene of bloodshed in reality as we approach
 
 16 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 the choir, for it was here that Giuliano de' Medici was as- 
 sassinated, as he attended High Mass, on April 26th, 1478, 
 with the connivance, if not actually at the instigation, of 
 Christ's Vicar himself, Pope Sixtus IV. Florentine history 
 is so eventful and so tortuous that beyond the bare outline 
 given in chapter V, I shall make in these pages but little 
 effort to follow it, assuming a certain amount of knowledge 
 on the part of the reader; but it must be stated here 
 that periodical revolts against the power and prestige of 
 the Medici often occurred, and none was more desperate 
 than that of the Pazzi family in 1478, acting with the 
 support of the Pope behind all and with the co-operation 
 of Girolamo Riario, nephew of the Pope, and Salviati, 
 Archbishop of Pisa. The Pazzi, who were not only 
 opposed to the temporal power of the Medici, but were 
 their rivals in business both families being bankers 
 wished to rid Florence of Lorenzo and Giuliano in order 
 to be greater both civically and financially. Girolamo 
 wished the removal of Lorenzo and Giuliano in order that 
 hostility to his plans for adding Forli and Faenza to the 
 territory of Imola, which the Pope had successfully won 
 for him against Lorenzo's opposition, might disappear. 
 The Pope had various political reasons for wishing Lo- 
 renzo's and Giuliano's death and bringing Florence, always 
 headstrong and dangerous, to heel. While as for Salviati, 
 it was sufficient that he was Archbishop of Pisa, Florence's 
 ancient rival and foe; but he was a grasping bad man 
 anyway. Assassination also was in the air, for Galeazzo 
 Maria Sforza of Milan had been stabbed in church in 1476, 
 thus to some extent paving the way for this murder, since 
 Lorenzo and Sforza, when acting together, had been prac- 
 tically unassailable. 
 
 In 1478 Lorenzo was twenty-nine, Giuliano twenty-five.
 
 THE PAZZI CONSPIRACY 17 
 
 Lorenzo had been at the head of Florentine affairs for nine 
 years and he was steadily growing in strength and popu- 
 larity. Hence it was now or never. 
 
 The conspirators' first idea was to kill the brothers at a 
 banquet which Lorenzo was to give to the great-nephew 
 of the Pope, the youthful Cardinal Raffaello Riario, who 
 promised to be an amenable catspaw. Giuliano, however, 
 having hurt his leg, was not well enough to be present, 
 but as he would attend High Mass, the conspirators 
 decided to act then. That is to say, it was then, in the 
 cathedral, that the death of the Medici brothers was to be 
 effected; meanwhile another detachment of conspirators 
 under Salviati was to rise simultaneously to capture the 
 Signoria, while the armed men of the party who were out- 
 side and inside the walls would begin their attacks on the 
 populace. Thus, at the same moment Medici and city 
 would fall. Such was the plan. 
 
 The actual assassins were Francesco de' Pazzi and Ber- 
 nardo Bandini, who were nominally friends of the Medici 
 (Francesco's brother Guglielmo having married Bianca de' 
 Medici, Lorenzo's sister), and two priests named Maffeo 
 da Volterra and Stefano da Bagnone. A professional 
 bravo named Montesecco was to have killed Lorenzo, but 
 refused on learning that the scene of the murder was to be 
 a church. At that, he said, he drew the line : murder 
 anywhere else he could perform cheerfully, but in a sacred 
 building it was too much to ask. He therefore did 
 nothing, but, subsequently confessing, made the guilt of all 
 his associates doubly certain. 
 
 When High Mass began it was found that Giuliano was 
 not present, and Francesco de' Pazzi and Bandini were sent 
 to persuade him to come a Judas-like errand indeed. On 
 the way back, it is said, one of them affectionately placed
 
 18 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 his arm round Giuliano to see if he wore a shirt of mail 
 remarking, to cover the action, that he was getting fat. 
 On his arrival, Giuliano took his place at the north side of 
 the circular choir, near the door which leads to the Via de' 
 Servi, while Lorenzo stood at the opposite side. At the 
 given signal Bandini and Pazzi were to stab Giuliano and 
 the two priests were to stab Lorenzo. The signal was the 
 breaking of the Eucharistic wafer, and at this solemn 
 moment Giuliano was instantly killed, with one stab in the 
 heart and nineteen elsewhere, Francesco so overdoing his 
 attack that he severely wounded himself too ; but Lorenzo 
 was in time to see the beginning of the assault, and, making 
 a movement to escape, he prevented the priest from doing 
 aught but inflict a gash in his neck, and, springing away, 
 dashed behind the altar to the old sacristy, where certain 
 of his friends who followed him banged the heavy bronze 
 doors on the pursuing foe. Those in the cathedral, mean- 
 while, were in a state of hysterical alarm ; the youthful 
 cardinal was hurried into the new sacristy; Guglielmo 
 de' Pazzi bellowed forth his innocence in loud tones ; and 
 his murderous brother and Bandini got off. 
 
 Order being restored, Lorenzo was led by a strong body- 
 guard to the Palazzo Medici, where he appeared at a 
 window to convince the momentarily increasing crowd that 
 he was still living. Meanwhile things were going not 
 much more satisfactorily for the Pazzi at the Palazzo 
 Vecchio, where, according to the plan, the gonfalonier, 
 Cesare Petrucci, was to be either killed or secured. The 
 Archbishop Salviati, who was to effect this, managed his 
 interview so clumsily that Petrucci suspected something, 
 those being suspicious times, and, instead of submitting to 
 capture, himself turned the key on his visitors. The Pazzi 
 faction in the city, meanwhile, hoping that all had gone
 
 VENGEANCE 19 
 
 well in the Palazzo Vecchio, as well as in the cathedral (as 
 they thought), were running through the streets calling 
 " Viva la Liberta ! " to be met with counter cries of " Palle ! 
 palle ! " the palle being the balls on the Medici escut- 
 cheon, still to be seen all over Florence and its vicinity 
 and on every curtain in the Uffizi. 
 
 The truth gradually spreading, the city then rose for 
 the Medici and justice began to be done. The Archbishop 
 was hanged at once, just as he was, from a window of the 
 Palazzo Vecchio. Francesco de' Pazzi, who had got home 
 to bed, was dragged to the Palazzo and hanged too. The 
 mob meanwhile were not idle, and most of the Pazzi were 
 accounted for, together with many followers although 
 Lorenzo publicly implored them to be merciful. Poliziano, 
 the scholar-poet and friend of Lorenzo, has left a vivid 
 account of the day. With his own eyes he saw the hanging 
 Salviati, in his last throes, bite the hanging Francesco de' 
 Pazzi. Old Jacopo succeeded in escaping, but not for long, 
 and a day or so later he too was hanged. Bandini got as 
 far as Constantinople, but was brought back in chains and 
 hanged. The two priests hid in the Benedictine abbey in 
 the city and for a while evaded search, but being found they 
 were torn to pieces by the crowd. Montesecco, having 
 confessed, was beheaded in the courtyard of the Bargello. 
 
 The hanging of the chief conspirators was kept in the 
 minds of the short-memoried Florentines by a representa- 
 tion outside the Palazzo Vecchio by none other than the 
 wistful, spiritual Botticelli ; while three effigies, life size, 
 of Lorenzo one of them with his bandaged neck were 
 made by Verrocchio in coloured wax and set up in places 
 where prayers might be offered. Commemorative medals, 
 which may be seen in the Bargello, were also struck, and 
 the family of Pazzi was banished and its name removed
 
 20 THE DUOMO II: ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 by decree from the city's archives. Poor Giuliano, who 
 was generally beloved for his charm and youthful spirits, 
 was buried at S. Lorenzo in great state. 
 
 I have often attended High Mass in this Duomo choir 
 the theatre of the Pazzi tragedy but never without 
 thinking of that scene. 
 
 Luca della Robbia's doors to the new sacristy, which 
 gave the young cardinal his safety, had been finished only 
 eleven years. Donatello was to have designed them, but 
 his work at Padua was too pressing. The commission was 
 then given to Michelozzo, Donatello's partner, and to Luca 
 della Robbia, but it seems likely that Luca did nearly all. 
 The doors are in very high relief, thus differing abso- 
 lutely from Donatello's at S. Lorenzo, which are in very low. 
 Luca's work here is sweet and mild rather than strong, and 
 the panels derive their principal charm from the angels, 
 who, in pairs, attend the saints. Above the door was 
 placed, at the time of Lorenzo's escape, the beautiful can- 
 toria, also by Luca, which is now in the museum of the 
 cathedral, while above the door of the old sacristy was 
 Donatello's cantoria. Commonplace new ones now take 
 their place. In the semicircle over each door is a coloured 
 relief by Luca : that over the bronze doors being the 
 "Resurrection," and the other the "Ascension" ; and they 
 are interesting not only for their beauty but as being 
 the earliest-known examples in Luca's newly-discovered 
 glazed terra-cotta medium, which was to do so much in the 
 hands of himself, his nephew Andrea, and his followers, to 
 make Florence still lovelier and the legend of the Virgin 
 Mary still sweeter. But of the della Robbias and their 
 exquisite genius I shall say more later, when we come 
 to the Bargello. 
 
 As different as would be possible to imagine is the genius
 
 MICHELANGELO'S LAST WORK 21 
 
 of that younger sculptor, the author of the Pieta at the back 
 of the altar, near where we now stand, who, when Luca 
 finished these bronze doors, in 1467, was not yet born 
 Michelangelo Buonarroti. This group, which is unfinished, 
 is the last the old and weary Titan ever worked at, and 
 it was meant to be part of his own tomb. Vasari, to whose 
 "Lives of the Painters" we shall be indebted, as this book 
 proceeds, for so much good human nature, and who speaks 
 of Michelangelo with peculiar authority, since he was his 
 friend, pupil, and correspondent, tells us that once when he 
 went to see the sculptor in Rome, near the end, he found 
 him at work upon this Pieta, but the sculptor was so dis- 
 satisfied with one portion that he let his lantern fall in 
 order that Vasari might not see it, saying: "I am so old 
 that death frequently drags at my mantle to take me, and 
 one day my person will fall like this lantern." The Pieta 
 is still in deep gloom, as the master would have liked, but 
 enough is revealed to prove its pathos and its power. 
 
 In the east end of the nave is the chapel of S. Zenobius, 
 containing a bronze reliquary by Ghiberti, with scenes upon 
 it from the life of this saint, so important in Florentine re- 
 ligious history. It is, however, very hard to see, and 
 should be illuminated. Zenobius was born at Florence in 
 the reign of Constantine the Great, when Christianity was 
 by no means the prevailing religion of the city, although the 
 way had been paved by various martyrs. After studying 
 philosophy and preaching with much acceptance, Zenobius 
 was summoned to Rome by Pope Damasus. On the Pope's 
 death he became Bishop of Florence, and did much, says 
 Butler, to "extirpate the kingdom of Satan." The saint 
 lived in the ancient tower which still stands one of the few 
 survivors of Florence's hundreds of towers at the corner 
 of the Via Por S. Maria (which leads from the Mercato
 
 22 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 Nuovo to the Ponte Vecchio) and the Via Lambertesca. It 
 is called the Torre de' Girolami, and on S. Zenobius' day 
 May 25th is decorated with flowers ; and since never are 
 so many flowers in the city of flowers as at that time, it is a 
 sight to see. The remains of the saint were moved to the 
 Duomo, although it had not then its dome, from S. Lorenzo, 
 in 1330, and the simple column in the centre of the road 
 opposite Ghiberti's first Baptistery doors was erected to 
 mark the event, since on that very spot, it is said, stood a 
 dead elm tree which, when the bier of the saint chanced to 
 touch it, immediately sprang to life again and burst into 
 leaf; even, the enthusiastic chronicler adds, into flower. 
 The result was that the tree was cut completely to pieces 
 by relic hunters, but the column by the Baptistery, the 
 work of Brunelleschi (erected on the site of an earlier one) , 
 fortunately remains as evidence of the miracle. Ghiberti, 
 however, did not choose this miracle but another for repre- 
 sentation ; for not only did Zenobius dead restore anima- 
 tion, but while he was himself living he resuscitated two 
 boys. The one was a ward of his own ; the second was an 
 ordinary Florentine, for whom the same modest boon was 
 craved by his sorrowing parents. It is one of these scenes 
 of resuscitation which Ghiberti has designed in bronze, 
 while Ridolfo Ghirlandaio painted it in a picture in the 
 Uffizi. We shall see S. Zenobius again in the fresco by 
 Ridolfo's father, the great Ghirlandaio, in the Palazzo 
 Vecchio ; while the portrait on the first pillar of the left 
 aisle as one enters the cathedral, is of Zenobius too. 
 
 The date of the Pazzi Conspiracy was 1478. A few 
 years later the same building witnessed the extraordinary 
 effects of Savonarola's oratory, when such was the terrible 
 picture he drew of the fate of unregenerate sinners that 
 his listeners' hair was said actually to rise with fright.
 
 EAST AND WEST 23 
 
 Savonarola came towards the end of the Renaissance, to 
 give it its death-blow. By contrast there is a tablet on 
 the right wall of the cathedral in honour of one who did 
 much to bring about the paganism and sophistication 
 against which the impassioned reformer uttered his fiercest 
 denunciations: Marsilio Ficino (1433-1491), the neo- 
 Platonist protege of Cosimo de' Medici, and friend both 
 of Piero de' Medici and Lorenzo. To explain Marsilio's 
 influence it is necessary to recede a little into history. 
 In 1439 Cosimo de' Medici succeeded in transferring the 
 scene of the Great Council of the Church to Florence. 
 At this conference representatives of the Western Church, 
 centred in Rome, met those of the Eastern Church, cen- 
 tred in Constantinople, which was still Christian, for the 
 purpose of discussing various matters, not the least of 
 which was the protection of the Eastern Church against 
 the Infidel. Not only was Constantinople continually 
 threatened by the Turks, and in need of arms as well as 
 sympathy, but the two branches of the Church were at 
 enmity over a number of points. It was as much to heal 
 these differences as to seek temporal aid that the Emperor 
 John Palseologus, the Patriarch of Constantinople, and a 
 vast concourse of nobles, priests, and Greek scholars, ar- 
 rived in Italy, and, after sojourning at Venice and Ferrara, 
 moved on to Florence at the invitation of Cosimo. The 
 Emperor resided in the Peruzzi palace, now no more, near 
 S. Croce ; the Patriarch of Constantinople lodged (and as it 
 chanced, died, for he was very old) at the Ferrantini 
 palace, now the Casa Vernaccia, in the Borgo Pinti ; while 
 Pope Eugenius was at the convent attached to S. Maria 
 Novella. The meetings of the Council were held where 
 we now stand in the cathedral, whose dome had just 
 been placed upon it all ready for them.
 
 24 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 The Council failed in its purpose, and, as we know, 
 Constantinople was lost some years later and the Great 
 empire of which John Palseologus was the last ruler ceased 
 to be. That, however, at the moment is beside the 
 mark. The interesting thing to us is that among the 
 scholars who came from Constantinople, bringing with them 
 numbers of manuscripts and systems of thought wholly 
 new to the Florentines, was one Georgius Gemisthos, a 
 Greek philosopher of much personal charm and comeliness, 
 who talked a bland and beautiful Platonism that was 
 extremely alluring not only to his youthful listeners but 
 also to Cosimo himself. Gemisthos was, however, a Greek, 
 and Cosimo was too busy a man in a city of enemies, or at 
 any rate of the envious, to be able to do much more than 
 extend his patronage to the old man and despatch emis- 
 saries to the East for more and more manuscripts; but 
 discerning the allurements of the new gospel, Cosimo 
 directed a Florentine enthusiast who knew Greek to spread 
 the serene creed among his friends, who were all ripe for it, 
 and this enthusiast was none other than a youthful scholar, 
 by name Marsilio Ficino, connected with S. Lorenzo, 
 Cosimo's family church, and the son of Cosimo's own 
 physician. To the young and ardent Marsilio, Plato be- 
 came a god and Gemisthos not less than divine for bringing 
 the tidings. He kept a lamp always burning before Plato's 
 bust, and later (under Cosimo) founded the Platonic Acad- 
 emy, at which Plato's works were discussed, orations 
 delivered, and new dialogues exchanged, between such keen 
 minds as Pulci, Landini, Giovanni Cavalcanti, Leon 
 Battista Alberti, the architect and scholar, Pico della 
 Mirandola, the precocious disputant and aristocratic 
 mystic, Poliziano, the tutor of Lorenzo's sons, and Lorenzo 
 the Magnificent himself. It was thus from the Greek in-
 
 THE BIRTH OF HUMANISM 25 
 
 vasion of Florence that proceeded the stream of culture 
 which is known as Humanism, and which, no doubt, in 
 time, was so largly concerned in bringing about that in- 
 difference to spiritual things which, leading to general 
 laxity and indulgence, filled Savonarola with despair. 
 
 I am not concerned to enter deeply into the subject of 
 the Renaissance. But this must be said that the new 
 painting and sculpture, particularly the painting of Masac- 
 cio and the sculpture of Donatello, had shown the world that 
 the human being could be made the measure of the Divine. 
 The Madonna and Christ had been related to life. The 
 new learning, by leading these keen Tuscan intellects, so 
 eager for reasonableness, to the Greek philosophers who 
 were so wise and so calm without any of the conso- 
 lations of Christianity, naturally set them wondering if 
 there were not a religion of Humanity that was perhaps a 
 finer thing than the religion that required all the machinery 
 and intrigue of Rome. And when, as the knowledge of 
 Greek spread and the minute examination of documents 
 ensued, it was found that Rome had not disdained forgery 
 to gain her ends, a blow was struck against the Church 
 from which it never recovered ; and how much of this was 
 due to this Florentine Marsilio, sitting at the feet of the 
 Greek Gemisthos, who came to Florence at the invitation 
 of Cosimo de' Medici. 
 
 The cathedral glass, as I say, is mostly overladen with 
 grime ; but the circular windows in the dome seem to be 
 magnificent in design. They are attributed to Ghiberti 
 and Donatello, and are lovely in colour. The greens in 
 particular are very striking. But the jewel of these 
 circular windows of Florence is that by Ghiberti on the 
 west wall of S. Croce. 
 
 And here I leave the Duomo, with the counsel to visitors
 
 26 THE DUOMO II : ITS ASSOCIATIONS 
 
 to Florence to make a point of entering it every day not, 
 as so many Florentines do, in order to make a short cut 
 from the Via Calzaioli to the Via de' Servi, and vice versa, 
 but to gather its spirit. It is different every hour in the 
 day, and every hour the light enters it with new beauty.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE DUOMO in : A CEREMONY AND A MUSEUM 
 
 The Scoppio del Carro The Pazzi beneficent Holy Saturday's pro- 
 gramme April 6th, 1912 The flying patte The nervous pyrotechnist 
 The influence of noon A little sister of the Duomo Donatello's can- 
 toria Luca della Robbia's cantoria. 
 
 IN the last chapter we saw the Pazzi family as very 
 black sheep, although there are plenty of students of 
 Florentine history who hold that any attempt to rid 
 Florence of the Medici was laudable. In this chapter we 
 see them in a kindlier situation as benefactors to the city. 
 For it happened that when Pazzo de' Pazzi, a founder of 
 the house, was in the Holy Land during the First Crusade, 
 it was his proud lot to set the Christian banner on the 
 walls of Jerusalem, and, as a reward, Godfrey of Boulogne 
 gave him some flints from the Holy Sepulchre. These he 
 brought to Florence, and they are now preserved at SS. 
 Apostoli, the little church in the Piazza del Limbo, off the 
 Borgo SS. Apostoli, and every year the flints are used to 
 kindle the fire needed for the right preservation of Easter 
 Day. Gradually the ceremony enlarged until it became a 
 spectacle indeed, which the Pazzi family for centuries con- 
 trolled. After the Pazzi conspiracy they lost it and the 
 Signoria took it over ; but, on being pardoned, the Pazzi 
 again resumed. 
 
 The Carro is a car containing explosives, and the Scoppio 
 
 27
 
 28 DUOMOIII: A CEREMONY AND A MUSEUM 
 
 is its explosion. This car, after being drawn in procession 
 through the streets by white oxen, is ignited by the sacred 
 fire borne to it by a mechanical dove liberated at the high 
 altar of the Duomo, and with its explosion Easter begins. 
 There is still a Pazzi fund towards the expenses, but a few 
 years ago the city became responsible for the whole pro- 
 ceedings, and the ceremony as it is now given, under civic 
 management, known as the Scoppio del Carro, is that which 
 I saw on Holy Saturday last and am about to describe. 
 
 First, however, let me state what had happened before 
 the proceedings opened in the Piazza del Duomo. At six 
 o'clock mass began at SS. Apostoli, lasting for more than 
 two hours. At its close the celebrant was handed a plate 
 on which were the sacred flints, and these he struck with a 
 steel in view of the congregation, thus igniting a taper. 
 The candle, in an ancient copper porta fuoco surmounted 
 by a dove, was then lighted, and the procession of priests 
 started off for the cathedral with their precious flame, 
 escorted by a civic guard and various standard bearers. 
 Their route was the Piazza del Limbo, along the Borgo 
 SS. Apostoli to the Via For S. Maria and through the 
 Vacchereccia to the Piazza della Signoria, the Via Con- 
 dotta, the Via del Proconsolo, to the Duomo, through 
 whose central doors they passed, depositing the sacred 
 burden at the high altar. I should add that anyone on 
 the route in charge of a street shrine had the right to stop 
 the procession in order to take a light from it ; while at SS. 
 Apostoli women congregrated with tapers and lanterns in 
 the hope of getting these kindled from the sacred flame, 
 in order to wash their babies or cook their food in water 
 heated with the fire. 
 
 Meanwhile at seven o'clock the four oxen, which are 
 kept in the Cascine all the year round and do no other
 
 THE CLOISTERS OF S. LORENZO, SHOWING THE WINDOWS OF THE 
 BIBLIOTECA LAURENZIANA
 
 A POPULAR FESTIVAL 29 
 
 work, had been harnessed to the car and had drawn 
 it to the Piazza del Duomo, which was reached about 
 nine. The oxen were then tethered by the Pisano doors 
 of the Baptistery until needed again. 
 
 After some haggling on the night before, I had secured 
 a seat on a balcony facing Ghiberti's first Baptistery doors, 
 for eleven lire, and to this place I went at half -past ten. 
 The piazza was then filling up, and at a quarter to eleven 
 the trams running between the Cathedral and the Baptis- 
 tery were stopped. In this space was the car. The present 
 one, which dates from 1622, is more like a catafalque, and 
 unless one sees it in motion, with the massive white oxen 
 pulling it, one cannot believe in it as a vehicle at all. It 
 is some thirty feet high, all black, with trumpery coloured- 
 paper festoons (concealing fireworks) upon it : trumpery as 
 only the Roman Catholic Church can contrive. It stood 
 in front of the Duomo some four yards from the Baptistery 
 gates in a line with the Duomo's central doors and the high 
 altar. The doors were open, seats being placed on each 
 side of the aisle the whole distance, and people making a 
 solid avenue. Down this avenue were to come the clergy, 
 and above it was to be stretched the line on which the 
 dove was to travel from the altar, with the Pazzi fire, to 
 ignite the car. 
 
 The space in front of the cathedral was cleared at about 
 eleven, and cocked hats and red-striped trousers then be- 
 came the most noticeable feature. The crowd was jolly 
 and perhaps a little cynical; picture-postcard hawkers 
 made most of the noise, and for some reason or other a for- 
 lorn peasant took this opportunity to offer for sale two 
 equally forlorn hedgehogs. Each moment the concourse 
 increased, for it is a fateful day and every one wants to 
 know the issue : because, you see, if the dove runs true,
 
 30 DUOMOIII: A CEREMONY AND A MUSEUM 
 
 lights the car, and returns, as a good dove should, to the 
 altar ark, there will be a prosperous vintage and the pyro- 
 technist who controls the sacred bird's movements will re- 
 ceive his wages. But if the dove runs defectively and there 
 is any hitch, everyone is dismayed, for the harvest will be 
 bad and the pyrotechnist will receive nothing. Once he 
 was imprisoned when things went astray and quite right 
 too but the Florentines have grown more lenient. 
 
 At about a quarter past eleven a procession of clergy 
 emerged from the Duomo and crossed the space to the 
 Baptistery. First, boys and youths in surplices. Then 
 some scarlet hoods, waddling. Then purple hoods and 
 other colours, a little paunchier, waddling more, and 
 lastly the archbishop, very sumptuous. All having disap- 
 peared into the Baptistery, through Ghiberti's second gates, 
 which I never saw opened before, the dove's wire was 
 stretched and fastened, a matter needing much care ; and 
 the crowds began to surge. The cocked hats and officers 
 had the space all to themselves, with the car, the firemen, 
 the pyrotechnist and the few privileged and very self- 
 conscious civilians who were allowed inside. 
 
 A curious incident, which many years ago might have 
 been magnified into a portent, occurred while the ecclesi- 
 astics were in the Baptistery. Some one either bought and 
 liberated several air balloons, or the string holding them 
 was surreptitiously cut ; but however it happened, the balls 
 escaped and suddenly the crowd sent up a triumphant yell. 
 At first I could see no reason for it, the Baptistery inter- 
 vening, but then the balls swam into our ken and steadily 
 floated over the cathedral out of sight amid tremendous 
 satisfaction. And the portent? Well, as they moved 
 against the blue sky they formed themselves into precisely 
 the pattern of the patte on the Medici escutcheon. That
 
 EASTER BEGINS 31 
 
 is all. But think what that would have meant in the 
 fifteenth century ; the nods and frowns it would have oc- 
 casioned ; the dispersal of the Medici, the loss of power, 
 and all the rest of it, that it would have presaged ! 
 
 At about twenty to twelve the ecclesiastics returned and 
 were swallowed up by the Duomo, and then excitement 
 began to be acute. The pyrotechnist was not free from it ; 
 he fussed about nervously ; he tested everything again and 
 again ; he crawled under the car and out of it ; he talked 
 to officials ; he inspected and re-inspected. Photographers 
 began to adjust their distances; the detached men in 
 bowlers looked at their watches; the cocked hats drew 
 nearer to the Duomo door. And then we heard a tearing 
 noise. All eyes were turned to the great door and out 
 rushed the dove emitting a wake of sparks, entered the car 
 and was out again on its homeward journey before one 
 realized what had happened. And then the explosions 
 began, and the bells silent since Thursday broke out. 
 How many explosions there were I do not know ; but they 
 seemed to go on for ten minutes. 
 
 This is a great moment not only for the spectator but 
 for all Florence, for in myriad rooms mothers have been 
 waiting, with their babies on their knees, for the first clang 
 of the belfries, because if a child's eyes are washed then it 
 is unlikely ever to have weak sight, while if a baby takes 
 its first steps to this accompaniment its legs will not be 
 bowed. 
 
 At the last explosion the pyrotechnist, now a calm man 
 once more and a proud one, approached the car, the fire- 
 men poured water on smouldering parts, and the work of 
 clearing up began. Then came the patient oxen, their 
 horns and hooves gilt, and great masses of flowers on their 
 heads, and red cloths with the lily of Florence on it over
 
 32 DUOMOIII: A CEREMONY AND A MUSEUM 
 
 their backs much to be regretted since they obliterated 
 their beautiful white skins and slowly the car lumbered 
 off, and, the cocked hats relenting, the crowd poured after 
 it and the Scoppio del Carro was over. 
 
 The Duomo has a little sister in the shape of the Museo 
 di Santa Maria del Fiore, or the Museo dell' Opera del 
 Duomo, situated in the Piazza opposite the apse ; and we 
 should go there now. This museum, which is at once the 
 smallest and, with the exception of the Natural History 
 Museum, the cheapest of the Florentine museums, for it 
 costs but half a lira, is notable for containing the two 
 cantorie, or singing galleries, made for the cathedral, one 
 by Donatello and one by Luca della Robbia. A cantoria 
 by Donatello we shall soon see in its place in S. Lorenzo ; 
 but that, beautiful as it is, cannot compare with this one 
 with its procession of merry, dancing children, its massive- 
 ness and grace, its joyous ebullitions of gold mosaic and 
 blue enamel. Both the cantorie Donatello's, begun in 
 1433 and finished in 1439, and Luca's, begun in 1431 and 
 finished in 1438 fulfilled their melodious functions in the 
 Duomo until 1688, when they were ruthlessly cleared 
 away to make room for large wooden balconies to be used 
 in connexion with the nuptials of Ferdinand de' Medici 
 and the Princess Violante of Bavaria. In the year 1688 
 taste was at a low ebb, and no one thought the deposed can- 
 torie even worth preservation, so that they were broken 
 up and occasionally levied upon for cornices and so forth. 
 The fragments were collected and taken to the Bargello 
 in the middle of the last century, and in 1883 Signer del 
 Moro, the then architect of the Duomo (whose bust is 
 in the courtyard of this museum), reconstructed them to 
 the best of his ability in their present situation. It has 
 to be remembered not only that, with the exception of the
 
 THE TWO CANTORIE 33 
 
 figures, the galleries are not as their artists made them, 
 lacking many beautiful accessories, but that, as Vasari tells 
 us, Donatello deliberately designed his for a dim light. 
 None the less, they remain two of the most delightful 
 works of the Renaissance and two of the rarest treasures 
 of Florence. 
 
 The dancing boys behind the small pillars with their gold 
 chequering, the brackets, and the urn of the cornice over 
 the second pair of pillars from the right are all that remain 
 of Donatello's own handiwork. All else is new and con- 
 jectural. It is supposed that bronze heads of lions filled 
 the two circular spaces between the brackets in the middle. 
 But although the loss of the work as a whole is to be re- 
 gretted, the dancing boys remain, to be for ever an inspi- 
 ration and a pleasure. The Luca della Robbia cantoria 
 opposite is not quite so triumphant a masterpiece, but 
 from the point of view of suitability it is perhaps better. 
 We can believe that Luca's children hymn the glory of 
 the Lord, as indeed the inscription makes them, whereas 
 Donatello's romp with a gladness that might easily be 
 purely pagan. Luca's design is more formal, more con- 
 ventional ; Donatello's is rich and free and fluid with per- 
 sonality. The two end panels of Luca's are supplied in 
 the cantoria by casts ; the originals are on the wall below 
 and may be carefully studied. The animation and fervour 
 of these choristers are unforgettable. 
 
 It is well, while enjoying Donatello's work, to remember 
 that Prato is only half an hour from Florence, and that 
 there may be seen the open-air pulpit, built on the corner 
 of the cathedral, which Donatello, with Michelozzo, his 
 friend and colleague, made at the same time that the 
 cantoria was in progress, and which in its relief of happy 
 children is very similar, although not, I think, quite so
 
 84 DUOMOIII: A CEREMONY AND A MUSEUM 
 
 remarkable. It lacks also the peculiarly naturalistic effect 
 gained in the cantoria by setting the dancing boys behind 
 the pillars, which undoubtedly, as comparison with the 
 Luca shows, assists realism. The row of pillars attracts 
 the eye first and the boys are thus thrown into a background 
 which almost moves. 
 
 Although the cantorie dominate the museum they must 
 not be allowed to overshadow all else. A marble relief of 
 the Madonna and Children by Agostino di Duccio (1418- 
 1481) must be sought for : it is No. 77 and the children are 
 the merriest in Florence. Another memorable Madonna 
 and Child is No. 94, by Pagno di Lapo Portigiani (1406- 
 1470), who has interest for us in this place as being one of 
 Donatello's assistants, very possibly on this very cantoria, 
 and almost certainly on the Prato pulpit. Everything 
 here, it must be remembered, has some association with the 
 Duomo and was brought here for careful preservation and 
 that whoever has fifty centimes might take pleasure in 
 seeing it ; but the great silver altar is from the Baptistery, 
 and being made for that temple is naturally dedicated to 
 the life of John the Baptist. Although much of it was the 
 work of not the greatest modellers in the second half of 
 the fourteenth century, three masters at least contributed 
 later: Michelozzo adding the statue of the Baptist, Pol- 
 laiuolo the side relief depicting his birth, and Verrocchio 
 that of his death, which is considered one of the most re- 
 markable works of this sculptor, whom we are to find so 
 richly represented at the Bargello. Before leaving this 
 room, look for 100 3 , an unknown terra-cotta of the Birth of 
 Eve, which is both masterly and amusing, and 110 4 , a very 
 lovely intaglio in wood. I might add that among the few 
 paintings, all very early, is a S. Sebastian in whose 
 sacred body I counted no fewer than thirty arrows ; which
 
 BRUNELLESCHI'S MODEL 35 
 
 within my knowledge of pictures of this saint not incon- 
 siderable is the highest number. 
 
 The next room is given to models and architectural plans 
 and drawings connected with the cathedral, the most 
 interesting thing being Bmnelleschi's own model for the 
 lantern. On the stairs are a series of fine bas-reliefs by 
 Bandinelli and Giovanni dell' Opera from the old choir 
 screen of the Duomo, and downstairs, among many other 
 pieces of sculpture, is a bust of Brunelleschi from a death- 
 mask and several beautiful della Robbia designs for 
 lunettes over doors.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE CAMPANILE AND THE BAPTISTERY 
 
 A short way with Veronese critics Giotto's missing spire Donatello's 
 holy men Giotto as encyclopaedist The seven and twenty reliefs Rus- 
 kin in American At the top of the tower A sea of red roof s The rest- 
 ful Baptistery Historic stones An ex-Pope's tomb Andrea Pisano's 
 doors Ghiberti's first doors Ghiberti's second doors Michelan- 
 gelo's praise A gentleman artist. 
 
 IT was in 1332, as I have said, that Giotto was made 
 capo-maestro, and on July 18th, 1334, the first stone 
 of his campanile was laid, the understanding being that 
 the structure was to exceed "in magnificence, height, and 
 excellence of workmanship" anything in the world. As 
 some further indication of the glorious feeling of patriot- 
 ism then animating the Florentines, it may be remarked 
 that when a Veronese who happened to be in Florence 
 ventured to suggest that the city was aiming rather too 
 high, he was at once thrown into gaol, and, on being set 
 free when his time was done, was shown the treasury as 
 an object lesson. Of the wealth and purposefulness of 
 Florence at that time, in spite of the disastrous bellicose 
 period she had been passing through, Villani the historian, 
 who wrote history as it was being made, gives an excellent 
 account, which Macaulay summarizes in his vivid way. 
 Thus : "The revenue of the Republic amounted to three 
 hundred thousand florins ; a sum which, allowing for the 
 depreciation of the precious metals, was at least equiva- 
 
 36
 
 FOURTEENTH CENTURY PROSPERITY 37 
 
 lent to six hundred thousand pounds sterling; a larger 
 sum than England and Ireland, two centuries ago, yielded 
 to Elizabeth. The manufacture of wool alone employed 
 two hundred factories and thirty thousand workmen. The 
 cloth annually produced sold, at an average, for twelve 
 hundred thousand florins ; a sum fully equal in exchange- 
 able value to two millions and a half of our money. 
 Four hundred thousand florins were annually coined. 
 Eighty banks conducted the commercial operations, not 
 of Florence only but of all Europe. The transactions of 
 these establishments were sometimes of a magnitude which 
 may surprise even the contemporaries of the Barings and 
 the Rothschilds. Two houses advanced to Edward III of 
 England upwards of three hundred thousand marks, at a 
 time when the mark contained more silver than fifty shil- 
 lings of the present day, and when the value of silver was 
 more than quadruple of what it now is. The city and its 
 environs contained a hundred and seventy thousand chil- 
 dren inhabitants. In the various schools about ten thou- 
 sand children were taught to read ; twelve hundred studied 
 arithmetic ; six hundred received a learned education." 
 
 Giotto died in 1336, and after his death, as I have said, 
 Andrea Pisano came in for a while; to be followed by 
 Talenti, who is said to have made considerable alterations in 
 Giotto's design and to be responsible for the happy idea 
 of increasing the height of the windows with the height of 
 the tower and thus adding to the illusion of springing 
 lightness. The topmost ones, so bold in size and so lovely 
 with their spiral columns, almost seem to lift it. 
 
 The campanile to-day is 276 feet in height, and Giotto 
 proposed to add to that a spire of 105 feet. The Floren- 
 tines completed the fagade of the cathedral in 1887 and 
 are now spending enormous sums on the Medici chapel at
 
 38 THE CAMPANILE AND THE BAPTISTERY 
 
 S. Lorenzo ; why should they not one day carry out their 
 greatest artist's intention ? 
 
 The campanile as a structure had been finished in 1387, 
 but not for many years did it receive its statues, of which 
 something must be said, although it is impossible to get 
 more than a vague idea of them, so high are they. A cap- 
 tive balloon should be arranged for the use of visitors. 
 Those by Donatello, on the Baptistery side, are the most 
 remarkable. The first of these that nearest to the 
 cathedral and the most striking as seen from the distant 
 earth is called John the Baptist, always a favourite subject 
 with this sculptor, who, since he more than any at that 
 thoughtful time endeavoured to discover and disclose the 
 secret of character, is curiously unfortunate in the accident 
 that has fastened names to these figures. This John, for 
 example, bears no relation to his other Baptists ; nor does 
 the next figure represent David, as is generally supposed, 
 but owes that error to the circumstance that when the David 
 that originally stood here was moved to the north side, 
 the old plinth bearing his name was left behind. This 
 famous figure is stated by Vasari to be a portrait of a Floren- 
 tine merchant named Barduccio Cherichini, and for cen- 
 turies it has been known as II Zuccone (or pumpkin) 
 from its baldness. Donatello, according to Vasari, had a 
 particular liking for the work, so much that he used to swear 
 by it ; while, when engaged upon it, he is said to have so be- 
 lieved in its reality as to exclaim, " Speak, speak ! or may a 
 dysentery seize thee ! " It is now generally considered to rep- 
 resent Job, and we cannot too much regret the impossibility 
 of getting near enough to study it. Next is the Jeremiah, 
 which, according to Vasari, was a portrait of another 
 Florentine, but which, since he bears his name on a scroll, 
 may none the less be taken to realize the sculptor's idea of
 
 THE PROCESSION OF THE MAGI 
 
 FROM THE FRESCO BY BENOZZI GOZZOLI IN THE MEDICI PALACE (NOW THE PALAZZO RICCAEDl)
 
 THE TWENTY-SEVEN RELIEFS 39 
 
 Jeremiah. It is (according to the photographs) a fine 
 piece of rugged vivacity, and the head is absolutely that of 
 a real man. On the opposite side of the tower is the 
 magnificent Abraham's sacrifice from the same strong hand, 
 and by it Habakkuk, who is no less near life than the 
 Jeremiah and Job, but a very different type. At both 
 Or San Michele and the Bargello we are to find Donatello 
 perhaps in a finer mood than here, and comfortably visible. 
 
 For most visitors to Florence and all disciples of Ruskin, 
 the chief interest of the campanile ("The Shepherd's 
 Tower" as he calls it) is the series of twenty-seven reliefs 
 illustrating the history of the world and the progress of 
 mankind, which are to be seen round the base, the design, 
 it is supposed, of Giotto, executed by Andrea Pisano and 
 Luca della Robbia. To Andrea are given all those on the 
 west (7), south (7), east (5), and the two eastern ones on the 
 north ; to Luca the remaining five on the north. Ruskin's 
 fascinating analysis of these reliefs should most certainly be 
 read (without a total forgetfulness of the shepherd's other 
 activities as a painter, architect, humorist, and friend of 
 princes and poets) , but equally certainly not in the American 
 pirated edition which the Florentine booksellers are so ready 
 (to their shame) to sell you. Only Ruskin in his best mood 
 of fury could begin to do justice to the misspellings and 
 mispunctuations of this terrible production. 
 
 Ruskin, I may say, believes several of the carvings to 
 be from Giotto's own chisel as well as design, but other 
 and more modern authorities disagree, although opinion 
 now inclines to the belief that the designs for Pisano's 
 Baptistery doors are also his. Such thoroughness and 
 ingenuity were all in Giotto's way, and they certainly sug- 
 gest his active mind. The campanile series begins at the 
 west side with the creation of man. Among the most
 
 40 THE CAMPANILE AND THE BAPTISTERY 
 
 attractive are, I think, those devoted to agriculture, with 
 the spirited oxen, to astronomy, to architecture, to weaving, 
 and to pottery. Giotto was even so thorough as to give 
 one relief to the conquest of the air ; and he makes Noah 
 most satisfactorily drunk. Note also the Florentine fleur- 
 de-lis round the base of the tower. Every fleur-de-lis in 
 Florence is beautiful even those on advertisements and 
 fire-plugs but few are more beautiful than these. 
 
 I climbed the campanile one fine morning 417 steps from 
 the ground and was well repaid ; but I think it is wiser 
 to ascend the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio, because one is 
 higher there and, since the bulk of the dome, which in- 
 trudes from the campanile, is avoided, one has a better all- 
 round view. Florence seen from this eminence is very red 
 so uniformly so that many towers rise against it almost in- 
 distinguishably, particularly the Bargello's and the Badia's. 
 One sees at once how few straight streets there are the 
 Ricasoli standing out among them as the exception ; and 
 one realizes how the city has developed outside, with its 
 boulevards where the walls once were, leaving the gates iso- 
 lated, and its cincture of factories. The occasional glimpses 
 of cloisters and verdure among the red are very pleasant. 
 One of the objects cut off by the cathedral dome is the 
 English cemetery, but the modern Jewish temple stands 
 out as noticeably almost as any of the ancient buildings. 
 The Pitti looks like nothing but a barracks and the Porta 
 Ferdinando has prominence which it gets from no other 
 point. The roof of the Mercato Centrale is the ugliest 
 thing in the view. While I was there the midday gun from 
 the Boboli fortress was fired, instantly having its punc- 
 tual double effect of sending all the pigeons up in a grey 
 cloud of simulated alarm and starting every bell in the city. 
 
 Those wishing to make either the campanile or Duomo
 
 "BEAUTIFUL SAN GIOVANNI" 41 
 
 ascents must remember to do it early. The closing 
 hour for the day being twelve, no one is allowed to start up 
 after about a quarter past eleven : a very foolish arrange- 
 ment, since Florence and the surrounding Apennines under 
 a slanting sun are more beautiful than in the morning glare, 
 and the ascent would be less fatiguing. As it was, on de- 
 scending, after being so long at the top, I was severely 
 reprimanded by the custodian, who had previously marked 
 me down as a barbarian for refusing his offer of field-glasses. 
 But the Palazzo Vecchio tower is open till five. 
 
 The Baptistery is the beautiful octagonal building oppo- 
 site the cathedral, and once the cathedral itself. It dates 
 from the seventh or eighth century, but as we see it now 
 is a product chiefly of the thirteenth. The bronze doors 
 opposite the Via Calzaioli are open every day, a circum- 
 stance which visitors, baffled by the two sets of Ghiberti 
 doors always so firmly closed, are apt to overlook. All 
 children born in Florence are still baptized here, and I 
 watched one afternoon an old priest at the task, a tiny 
 Florentine being brought in to receive the name of Tosca, 
 which she did with less distaste than most, considering 
 how thorough was his sprinkling. The Baptistery is rich 
 in colour both without and within. The floor alone is 
 a marvel of intricate inlaying, including the signs of the 
 zodiac and a gnomic sentence which reads the same back- 
 wards and forwards "En gire torte sol ciclos et roterigne." 
 On this very pavement Dante, who called the church his 
 "beautiful San Giovanni," has walked. Over the altar is a 
 gigantic and primitive Christ in mosaic, more splendid than 
 spiritual. The mosaics in the recesses of the clerestory 
 grey and white are the most soft and lovely of all. I be- 
 lieve the Baptistery is the most restful place in Florence ; 
 and this is rather odd considering that it is all marble and
 
 42 THE CAMPANILE AND THE BAPTISTERY 
 
 mosaic patterns. But its shape is very soothing, and age 
 has given it a quality of its own, and there is just that 
 touch of barbarism about it such as one gets in Byzantine 
 buildings to lend it a peculiar character here. 
 
 The most notable sculpture in the Baptistery is the tomb 
 of the ex-Pope John XXIII, whose licentiousness was such 
 that there was nothing for it but to depose and imprison 
 him. He had, however, much money, and on his libera- 
 tion he settled in Florence, presented a true finger of John 
 the Baptist to the Baptistery, and arranged in return for 
 his bones to repose in that sanctuary. One of his execu- 
 tors was that Niccolo da Uzzano, the head of the noble 
 faction in the city, whose coloured bust by Donatello is in 
 the Bargello. The tomb is exceedingly fine, the work of 
 Donatello and his partner Michelozzo, who were engaged 
 to make it by Giovanni de' Medici, the ex-pontiff's friend, 
 and the father of the great Cosimo. The design is all 
 Donatello 's, and his the recumbent cleric, lying very natu- 
 rally, hardly as if dead at all, a little on one side, so that 
 his face is seen nearly full ; the three figures beneath are 
 Michelozzo's ; but Donatello probably carved the seated 
 angels who display the scroll which bears the dead Pope's 
 name. The Madonna and Child above are by Donatello's 
 assistant, Pagno di Lapo Portigiani, a pretty relief by 
 whom we saw in the Museum of the Cathedral. Being in 
 red stone, and very dusty, like Ghiberti's doors (which want 
 the hose regularly), the lines of the tomb are much im- 
 paired. Donatello is also represented here by a Mary 
 Magdalene in wood, on an altar at the left of the entrance 
 door, very powerful and poignant. 
 
 In the ordinary way, when visitors to Florence speak of 
 the Baptistery doors they mean those opposite the Duomo, 
 and when they go to the Bargello and look at the designs
 
 ANDREA PISANO'S DOORS 43 
 
 made by Ghiberti and Brunelleschi in competition, they 
 think that the competition was for those. But that is 
 wrong. Ghiberti won his spurs with the doors on the 
 north side, at which comparatively few persons look. The 
 famous doors opposite the Duomo were commissioned many 
 years later, when his genius was acknowledged and when 
 he had become so accomplished as to do what he liked 
 with his medium. Before, however, coming to Ghiberti, we 
 ought to look at the work of an early predecessor but for 
 whom there might have been no Ghiberti at all ; for while 
 Ghiberti was at work with his assistants on these north 
 doors, between 1403 and 1424, the place which they oc- 
 cupy was filled by those executed seventy years earlier by 
 Andrea Pisano (1270-1348), possibly from Giotto's designs, 
 which are now at the south entrance, opposite the charm- 
 ing little loggia at the corner of the Via Calzaioli, called 
 the Bigallo. These represent twenty scenes in the life 
 of S. John the Baptist, and below them are eight figures 
 of cardinal and Christian virtues, and they employed their 
 sculptor from 1330 to 1336. They have three claims to 
 notice : as being admirably simple and vigorous in them- 
 selves; as having influenced all later workers in this 
 medium, and particularly Ghiberti and Donatello ; and as 
 being the bronze work of the sculptor of certain of the 
 stone scenes round the base of Giotto's campanile. The 
 panel in which the Baptist is seen up to his waist in the 
 water is surely the very last word in audacity in bronze. 
 Ghiberti was charged with making bronze do things that 
 it was ill fitted for; but I do not know that even he 
 moulded water and transparent water from it. 
 
 The year 1399 is one of the most notable in the history 
 of modern art, since it was then that the competition for 
 the Baptistery gates was made public, this announcement
 
 44 THE CAMPANILE AND THE BAPTISTERY 
 
 being the spring from which many rivers flowed. In that 
 year Lorenzo Ghiberti, a young goldsmith assisting his 
 father, was twenty-one, and Filippo Brunelleschi, another 
 goldsmith, was twenty-two, while Giotto had been dead 
 sixty-three years and the impulse he had given to painting 
 had almost worked itself out. The new doors were to be 
 of the same shape and size as those by Andrea Pisano, 
 which were already getting on for seventy years old, and 
 candidates were invited to make a specimen relief to scale, 
 representing the interrupted sacrifice of Isaac, although the 
 subject-matter of the doors was to be the Life of S. John 
 the Baptist. Among the judges was that Florentine 
 banker whose name was beginning to be known in the city as 
 a synonym for philanthropy, enlightenment, and sagacity, 
 Giovanni de' Medici. In 1401 the specimens were ready, 
 and after much deliberation as to which was the better, 
 Ghiberti's or Brunelleschi's assisted, some say, by Brunel- 
 leschi's own advice in favour of his rival the award was 
 given to Ghiberti, and he was instructed to proceed with 
 his task ; while Brunelleschi, as we have seen, being a man 
 of determined ambition, left for Rome to study architec- 
 ture, having made up his mind to be second to no one in 
 whichever of the arts and crafts he decided to pursue. 
 Here then was the first result of the competition that it 
 turned Brunelleschi to architecture. 
 
 Ghiberti began seriously in 1403 and continued till 
 1424, when the doors were finished ; but, in order to carry 
 out the work, he required assistance in casting and so 
 forth, and for that purpose engaged among others a sculp- 
 tor named Donatello (born in 1386), a younger sculptor 
 named Luca della Robbia (born in 1400), and a gigantic 
 young painter called Masaccio (born in 1401), each of whom 
 was destined, taking fire no doubt from Ghiberti and his
 
 GHIBERTI'S FIRST DOORS 45 
 
 fine free way, to be a powerful innovator Donatello (apart 
 from other and rarer achievements) being the first sculptor 
 since antiquity to place a statue on a pedestal around 
 which observers could walk; Masaccio being the first 
 painter to make pictures in the modern use of the term, 
 with men and women of flesh and blood in them, as distin- 
 guished from decorative saints, and to be by example the 
 instructor of all the greatest masters, from his pupil Lippo 
 Lippi to Leonardo and Michelangelo; and Luca della 
 Robbia being the inspired discoverer of an inexpensive 
 means of glazing terra-cotta so that his beautiful and 
 radiant Madonnas could be brought within the purchasing 
 means of the poorest congregation in Italy. These alone 
 are remarkable enough results, but when we recollect also 
 that Brunelleschi's defeat led to the building of the cathe- 
 dral dome, the significance of the event becomes the more 
 extraordinary. 
 
 The doors, as I say, were finished in 1424, after twenty- 
 one years' labour, and the Signoria left the Palazzo Vecchio 
 in procession to see their installation. In the number and 
 shape of the panels Pisano set the standard, but Ghiberti's 
 work resembled that of his predecessor very little in other 
 ways, for he had a mind of domestic sweetness without aus- 
 terity and he was interested in making everything as easy 
 and fluid and beautiful as might be. His thoroughness 
 recalls Giotto in certain of his frescoes. The impression 
 left by Pisano's doors is akin to that left by reading the 
 New Testament ; but Ghiberti makes everything happier 
 than that. Two scenes both on the level of the eye I 
 particularly like : the " Annunciation," with its little, lithe, 
 reluctant Virgin, and the "Adoration." The border of 
 the Pisano doors is, I think, finer than that of Ghiberti's ; 
 but it is a later work.
 
 46 THE CAMPANILE AND THE BAPTISTERY 
 
 Looking at them even now, with eyes that remember so 
 much of the best art that followed them and took inspira- 
 tion from them, we can understand the better how delighted 
 Florence must have been with this new picture gallery and 
 how the doors were besieged by sightseers. But greater 
 still was to come. Ghiberti at once received the commission 
 to make two more doors on his own scale for the south side 
 of the Baptistery, and in 1425 he had begun on them. 
 These were not finished until 1452, so that Ghiberti, then 
 a man of seventy-four, had given practically his whole life 
 to the making of four bronze doors. It is true that he did 
 a few other things beside, such as the casket of S. Zenobius 
 in the Duomo, and the Baptist and S. Matthew for Or San 
 Michele; but he may be said justly to live by his doors, 
 and particularly by the second pair, although it was the 
 first pair that had the greater effect on his contemporaries 
 and followers. 
 
 Among his assistants on these were Antonio Pollaiuolo 
 (born in 1429), who designed the quail in the left border, 
 and Paolo Uccello (born in 1397), both destined to be men 
 of influence. The bald head on the right door is a portrait 
 of Ghiberti ; that of the old man on the left is his father, 
 who helped him to polish the original competition plaque. 
 Although commissioned for the south side they were placed 
 where they now are, on the east, as being most worthy of 
 the position of honour, and Pisano's doors, which used to 
 be here, were moved to the south, where they now are. 
 
 On Ghiberti's workshop opposite S. Maria Nuova, in the 
 Via Bufalini, the memorial tablet mentions Michelangelo's 
 praise that these doors were beautiful enough to be the 
 Gates of Paradise. After that what is an ordinary person 
 to say? That they are lovely is a commonplace. But 
 they are more. They are so sensitive ; bronze, the medium
 
 GHIBERTTS SECOND DOORS 47 
 
 which Horace has called, by implication, the most durable 
 of all, has become in Ghiberti's hands almost as soft as wax 
 and tender as flesh. It does all he asks ; it almost moves ; 
 every trace of sternness has vanished from it. Nothing in 
 plastic art that we have ever seen or shall see is more easy 
 and ingratiating than these almost living pictures. 
 
 Before them there is steadily a little knot of admirers, and 
 on Sundays you may always see country people explaining 
 the panels to each other. Every one has his favourite among 
 these fascinating Biblical scenes, and mine are Cain and 
 Abel, with the ploughing, and Abraham and Isaac, with 
 its row of fir trees. It has been explained by the purists 
 that the sculptor stretched the bounds of plastic art too 
 far and made bronze paint pictures ; but most persons 
 will agree to ignore that. Of the charm of Ghiberti's mind 
 the border gives further evidence, with its fruits and foliage, 
 birds and woodland creatures, so true to life, and here fixed 
 for all time, so naturally, that if these animals should ever 
 (as is not unlikely in Italy where everyone has a gun and 
 shoots at his pleasure) become extinct, they could be 
 created again from these designs. 
 
 Ghiberti, who enjoyed great honour in his life and a 
 considerable salary as joint architect of the dome with 
 Brunelleschi, died three years after the completion of the 
 second doors and was buried in S. Croce. His place in 
 Florentine art is unique and glorious. 
 
 The broken porphyry pillars by these second doors were 
 a gift from Pisa to Florence in recognition of Florence's 
 watchfulness over Pisa while the Pisans were away sub- 
 duing the Balearic islanders. 
 
 The bronze group over Ghiberti's first doors, representing 
 John the Baptist preaching between a Pharisee and a 
 Levite, are the work (either alone or assisted by his master
 
 48 THE CAMPANILE AND THE BAPTISTERY 
 
 Leonardo da Vinci) of an interesting Florentine sculptor, 
 Giovanni Francesco Rustici (1474-1554), who was remark- 
 able among the artists of his time in being what we should 
 call an amateur, having a competence of his own and the 
 manners of a patron. Placing himself under Verrocchio, 
 he became closely attached to Leonardo, a fellow-pupil, 
 and made him his model rather than the older man. He 
 took his art lightly, and lived, in Vasari's phrase, "free 
 from care," having such beguilements as a tame menagerie 
 (Leonardo, it will be remembered, loved animals too and 
 had a habit of buying small caged birds in order to set 
 them free), and two or three dining clubs, the members of 
 which vied with each other in devising curious and exotic 
 dishes. Andrea del Sarto, for example, once brought as 
 his contribution to the feast a model of this very church 
 we are studying, the Baptistery, of which the floor was 
 constructed of jelly, the pillars of sausages, and the choir 
 desk of cold veal, while the choristers were roast thrushes. 
 Rustici further paved the way to a life free from care by ap- 
 pointing a steward of his estate whose duty it was to see that 
 his money box, to which he went whenever he wanted any- 
 thing, always had money in it. This box he never locked, 
 having learned that he need fear no robbery by once leav- 
 ing his cloak for two days under a bush and then finding 
 it again. "This world," he exclaimed, "is too good: it 
 will not last." Among his pets were a porcupine trained 
 to prick the legs of his guests under the table "so that 
 they drew them in quickly"; a raven that spoke like a 
 human being ; an eagle, and many snakes. He also studied 
 necromancy, the better to frighten his apprentices. He 
 left Florence in 1528, after the Medici expulsion, and, like 
 Leonardo, took service with Francis the First. He died at 
 the age of eighty.
 
 RUSTICI'S GROUP 49 
 
 I had an hour and more exactly opposite the Rustic! group, 
 on the same level, while waiting for the Scoppio del Carro, 
 and I find it easy to believe that Leonardo himself had a 
 hand in the work. The figure of the Baptist is superb, 
 the attitude of his listeners masterly.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 An evasion of history " II Caparra " The Gozzoli frescoes Gio- 
 vanni de' Medici (di Bicci) Cosimo de' Medici The first banish- 
 ment Piero de' Medici Lorenzo de' Medici Piero di Lorenzo de' 
 Medici The second banishment Giuliano di Lorenzo de' Medici 
 Leo X Lorenzo di Piero di Lorenzo de' Medici Clement VII 
 Third banishment of the Medici The siege of Florence Alessandro 
 de' Medici Ippolito de' Medici Lorenzino de' Medici Giovanni 
 delle Bande Nere Cosimo I The Grand Dukes. 
 
 THE natural step from the Baptistery would be to the 
 Uffizi. But for us not yet; because in order to 
 understand Florence, and particularly the Florence that 
 existed between the extreme dates that I have chosen as 
 containing the fascinating period namely 1296, when the 
 Duomo was begun, and 1564, when Michelangelo died 
 one must understand who and what the Medici were. 
 
 While I have been enjoying the pleasant task of writing 
 this book which has been more agreeable than any literary 
 work I have ever done I have continually been conscious 
 of a plaintive voice at my shoulder, proceeding from one 
 of the vigilant and embarrassing imps who sit there and do 
 duty as conscience, inquiring if the time is not about ripe 
 for introducing that historical sketch of Florence without 
 which no account such as this can be rightly understood. 
 And ever I have replied with words of, a soothing and pro- 
 crastinating nature. But now that we are face to face 
 
 50
 
 THE TOMB OF LORENZO DE' MEDICI, DUKE OF URBINO 
 
 BY MICHELANGELO IN THE NEW SACRISTY OF S. LORENZO
 
 THE MEDICI 51 
 
 with the Medici family, in their very house, I am conscious 
 that the occasion for that historical sketch is here indeed, 
 and equally I am conscious of being quite incapable of 
 supplying it. For the history of Florence between, say, 
 the birth of Giotto or Dante and the return of Cosimo de' 
 Medici from exile, when the absolute Medici rule began, is 
 so turbulent, crowded, and complex that it would require 
 the whole of this volume to describe it. The changes in 
 the government of the city would alone occupy a good 
 third, so constant and complicated were they. I should 
 have to explain the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, the Neri 
 and the Bianchi, the Guilds and the Priors, the gonfalonieri 
 and the podesta, the secondo popolo and the buonuomini. 
 
 Rather than do this imperfectly I have chosen to do it 
 not at all ; and the curious must resort to historians proper. 
 But there is at the end of the volume a table of the chief 
 dates in Florentine and European history in the period 
 chosen, together with births and deaths of artists and poets 
 and other important persons, so that a bird's-eye view of the 
 progress of affairs can be quickly gained, while in this 
 chapter I offer an outline of the great family of rulers of 
 Florence who made the little city an aesthetic lawgiver 
 to the world and with whom her later fame, good or ill, is 
 indissolubly united. For the rest, is there not the library ? 
 
 The Medici, once so powerful and stimulating, are still 
 ever in the background of Florence as one wanders hither 
 and thither. They are behind many of the best pictures and 
 most of the best statues. Their escutcheon is everywhere. 
 I ought, I believe, to have made them the subject of my 
 first chapter. But since I did not, let us without further 
 delay turn to the Via Cavour, which runs away to the north 
 from the Baptistery, being a continuation of the Via de' 
 Martelli, and pause at the massive and dignified palace at
 
 52 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 the first corner on the left. For that is the Medici's home ; 
 and afterwards we will step into S. Lorenzo and see the 
 church which Brunelleschi and Donatello made beautiful 
 and Michelangelo wonderful that the Medici might lie 
 there. 
 
 Visitors go to the Riccardi palace rather to see Gozzoli's 
 frescoes than anything else; and indeed apart from the 
 noble solid Renaissance architecture of Michelozzo there is 
 not much else to see. In the courtyard are certain frag- 
 ments of antique sculpture arranged against the walls, and 
 a sarcophagus is shown in which an early member of the 
 family, Guccio de' Medici, who was gonfalonier in 1299, 
 once reposed. There too are Donatello's eight medallions, 
 but they are not very interesting, being only enlarged 
 copies of old medals and cameos and not notable for his 
 own characteristics. 
 
 Hence it is that after Gozzoli by far the most interest- 
 ing part of this building is its associations. For here lived 
 Cosimo de' Medici, whose building of the palace was inter- 
 rupted by his banishment as a citizen of dangerous ambition ; 
 here lived Piero de' Medici, for whom Gozzoli worked ; 
 here was born and here lived Lorenzo the Magnificent. To 
 this palace came the Pazzi conspirators to lure Giuliano to 
 the Duomo and his doom. Here did Charles VIII Savona- 
 rola's "Flagellum Dei" - lodge and loot, and it was here 
 that Capponi frightened him with the threat of the Floren- 
 tine bells ; hither came, in 1494, the fickle and terrible Flor- 
 entine mob, always passionate in its pursuit of change and 
 excitement, and now inflamed by the sermons of Savon- 
 arola, to destroy the priceless manuscripts and works 
 of art ; here was brought up for a year or so the little 
 Catherine de' Medici, and next door was the house in which 
 Alessandro de' Medici was murdered.
 
 THE MEDICI BALLS 53 
 
 It was in the seventeenth century that the palace passed 
 to the Riccardi family, who made many additions. A 
 century later Florence acquired it, and to-day it is the seat 
 of the Prefect of the city. Cosimo's original building was 
 smaller ; but much of it remains untouched. The exquisite 
 cornice is Michelozzo's original, and the courtyard has 
 merely lost its statues, among which are Donatello's Judith, 
 now in the Loggia de' Lanzi, and his bronze David, now 
 in the Bargello, while Verrocchio's David was probably 
 on the stairs. The escutcheon on the corner of the house 
 gives us the period of its erection. The seven plain balls 
 proclaim it Cosimo's. Each of the Medici sported these 
 palle, although each had also his private crest. Under 
 Giovanni, Cosimo's father, the balls were eight in number ; 
 under Cosimo, seven ; under Piero, seven, with the fleur-de- 
 lis of France on the uppermost, given him by Louis XI ; 
 under Lorenzo, six ; and as one walks about Florence one 
 can approximately fix the date of a building by remember- 
 ing these changes. How many times they occur on the 
 fagades of Florence and its vicinity, probably no one could 
 say; but they are everywhere. The French wits, who 
 were amused to derive Catherine de' Medici from a family 
 of apothecaries, called them pills. 
 
 The beautiful lantern at the corner was added by Lorenzo 
 and was the work of an odd ironsmith in Florence for whom 
 he had a great liking Niccolo Grosso. For Lorenzo had 
 all that delight in character which belongs so often to the 
 born patron and usually to the born connoisseur. This 
 Grosso was a man of humorous independence and bluntness. 
 He had the admirable custom of carrying out his commissions 
 in the order in which they arrived, so that if he was at 
 work upon a set of fire-irons for a poor client, not even 
 Lorenzo himself (who as a matter of fact often tried) could
 
 64 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 induce him to turn to something more lucrative. The rich 
 who cannot wait he forced to wait. Grosso also always 
 insisted upon something in advance and payment on de- 
 livery, and pleasantly described his workshop as being the 
 Sign of the Burning Books, since if his books were burnt 
 how could he enter a debt ? This rule earned for him from 
 Lorenzo the nickname of "^Caparra" (earnest money). 
 Another of Grosso's eccentricities was to refuse to work 
 for Jews. 
 
 Within the palace, up stairs, is the little chapel which 
 Gozzoli made so gay and fascinating that it is probably 
 the very gem among the private chapels of the world- 
 Here not only did the Medici perform their devotions 
 Lorenzo's corner seat is still shown, and anyone may sit 
 in it but their splendour and taste are reflected on the 
 walls. Cosimo, as we shall see when we reach S. Marco, 
 invited Fra Angelico to paint upon the walls of that 
 convent sweet and simple frescoes to the glory of God. 
 Piero employed Fra Angelico's pupil, Benozzo Gozzoli, to 
 decorate this chapel. 
 
 In the year 1439, as chapter II related, through the 
 instrumentality of Cosimo a great episcopal Council was 
 held at Florence, at which John Palseologus, Emperor of 
 the East, met Pope Eugenius IV. In that year Cosimo's 
 son Piero was twenty-three, and Gozzoli nineteen, and 
 probably upon both, but certainly on the young artist, such 
 pomp and splendour and gorgeousness of costume as then 
 were visible in Florence made a deep impression. When 
 therefore Piero, after becoming head of the family, decided 
 to decorate the chapel with a procession of Magi, it is not 
 surprising that the painter should recall this historic oc- 
 casion. We thus get the pageantry of the East with more 
 than common realism, while the portraits, or at any rate rep-
 
 GOZZOLI'S FRESCOES 55 
 
 resentations, of the Patriarch of Constantinople (the first 
 king) and the Emperor (the second king) are here, together 
 with those of certain Medici, for the youthful third king is 
 none other than Piero's eldest son Lorenzo. Among their 
 followers are (the third on the left) Cosimo de' Medici, 
 who is included as among the living, although, like the 
 Patriarch of Constantinople, he was dead, and his brother 
 Lorenzo (the middle one of the three), whose existence is 
 forgotten so completely until the accession of Cosimo I, 
 in 1537, brings his branch of the family into power ; while 
 on the right is Piero de' Medici himself. Piero's second 
 son Giuliano is on the white horse, preceded by a negro 
 carrying his bow. The head immediately above Giuliano 
 I do not know, but that one a little to the left above it is 
 Gozzoli's own. Among the throng are men of learning 
 who either came to Florence from the East or Florentines 
 who assimilated their philosophy such as Georgius 
 Gemisthos, Marsilio Ficino, and perhaps certain painters 
 among them, all proteges of Cosimo and Piero, and all 
 makers of the Renaissance. 
 
 The assemblage alone, apart altogether from any beauty 
 and charm that the painting possesses, makes these frescoes 
 valuable. But the painting is a delight. We have a 
 pretty Gozzoli in our National Gallery No. 283 but 
 it gives no indication of the ripeness and richness and inci- 
 dent of this work ; while the famous Biblical series in the 
 Campo Santo of Pisa has so largely perished as to be scarcely 
 evidence to his colour. The first impression made by the 
 Medici frescoes is their sumptuousness. When Gozzoli 
 painted if the story be true he had only candle light : 
 the window over the altar is new. But think of candle 
 light being all the illumination of these walls as the 
 painter worked ! A new door and window have also been
 
 56 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 cut in the wall opposite the altar close to the three 
 daughters of Piero, by vandal hands ; and " Bruta, bruta ! " 
 says the guardian, very rightly. 
 
 The landscape behind the procession is hardly less in- 
 teresting than the procession itself ; but it is when we come 
 to the meadows of paradise, with the angels and roses, 
 the cypresses and birds, in the two chancel scenes, that 
 this side of Gozzoli's art is most fascinating. He has 
 travelled a long way from his master Fra Angelico here : 
 the heaven is of the visible rather than the invisible eye ; 
 sense is present as well as the rapturous spirit. The little 
 Medici who endured the tedium of the services here are 
 to be felicitated with upon such an adorable presentment 
 of glory. With plenty of altar candles the sight of these 
 gardens of the blest must have beguiled many a mass. 
 Thinking here in England upon the Medici chapel, I find 
 that the impression it has left upon me is chiefly cypresses 
 cypresses black and comely, disposed by a master hand, 
 with a glint of gold among them. 
 
 The picture that was over the altar has gone. It was a 
 Fra Lippo Lippi and is now in Berlin. 
 
 The first of the Medici family to rise to the highest 
 power was Giovanni d'Averardo de' Medici (known as 
 Giovanni di Bicci), 1360-1429, who, a wealthy banker 
 living in what is now the Piazza del Duomo, was well 
 known for his philanthropy and interest in the welfare of 
 the Florentines, but does not come much into public notice 
 until 1401, when he was appointed one of the judges in the 
 Baptistery door competition. He was a retiring, watchful 
 man. Whether he was personally ambitious is not too 
 evident, but he was opposed to tyranny and was the steady 
 foe of the Albizzi faction, who at that time were endeav- 
 ouring to obtain supreme power in Florentine affairs. In
 
 COSIMO PATER 57 
 
 / 
 
 1419 Giovanni increased his popularity by founding the 
 Spedale degli Innocenti, and in 1421 he was elected gon- 
 falonier, or, as we might now say, President of the Republic. 
 In this capacity he made his position secure and reduced 
 the nobles (chief of whom was Niccolo da Uzzano) to 
 political weakness. Giovanni died in 1429, leaving one 
 son, Cosimo, aged forty, a second, Lorenzo, aged thirty- 
 four, a fragrant memory and an immense fortune. 
 
 To Lorenzo, who remained a private citizen, we shall re- 
 turn in time ; it is Cosimo (1389-1464) with whom we are 
 now concerned. Cosimo de' Medici was a man of great 
 mental and practical ability : he had been educated as well 
 as possible ; he had a passion both for art and letters ; he 
 inherited his father's financial ability and generosity, while 
 he added to these gifts a certain genius for the manage- 
 ment of men. One of the first things that Cosimo did 
 after his father's death was to begin the palace where we 
 now are, rejecting a plan by Brunelleschi as too splendid, 
 and choosing instead one by Michelozzo, the partner of 
 Donatello, two artists who remained his personal friends 
 through life. Cosimo selected this site, in what was then 
 the Via Larga but is now the Via Cavour, partly because 
 his father had once lived there, and partly because it was 
 close to S. Lorenzo, which his father, with six other families, 
 had begun to rebuild, a work he intended himself to 
 carry on. 
 
 The palace was begun in 1430 and was still in progress 
 in 1433 when the Albizzi, who had always viewed the rise 
 of the Medici family with apprehension and misgiving, and 
 were now strengthened by the death of Niccolo da Uzzano, 
 who, though powerful, had been a very cautious and temper- 
 ate adviser, succeeded in getting a majority in the Signoria 
 and passing a sentence of banishment on the whole Medici
 
 58 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 tribe as being too rich and ambitious to be good citizens 
 of a simple and frugal Republic. Cosimo therefore, after 
 some days of imprisonment in the tower of the Palazzo 
 Vecchio, during which he expected execution at any moment, 
 left Florence for Venice, taking his architect with him. In 
 1434, however, the Florentines, realizing that under the 
 Albizzi they were losing their independence, and what was 
 to be a democracy was become an oligarchy, revolted ; and 
 Cosimo was recalled, and, like his father, was elected gon- 
 falonier. With this recall began his long supremacy ; for 
 he returned like a king and like a king remained, quickly 
 establishing himself as the leading man in the city, the 
 power behind the Signoria. Not only did he never lose 
 that position, but he made it so naturally his own that 
 when he died he was able to transmit it to his son. 
 
 Cosimo de' Medici was, I think, the wisest and best 
 ruler that Florence ever had and ranks high among the 
 rulers that any state ever had. But he changed the Flor- 
 entines from an independent people to a dependent one. 
 In his capacity of Father of his Country he saw to it that 
 his children lost their proud spirit. He had to be abso- 
 lute ; and this end he achieved in many ways, but chiefly 
 by his wealth, which made it possible to break the rich 
 rebel and to enslave the poor. His greatest asset next 
 his wealth was his knowledge of the Florentine character. 
 To know anything of this capricious, fickle, turbulent folk 
 even after the event was in itself a task of such magnitude 
 that almost no one else had compassed it ; but Cosimo did 
 more, he knew what they were likely to do. By this 
 knowledge, together with his riches, his craft, his tact, his 
 business ramifications as an international banker, his open- 
 handedness and air of personal simplicity, Cosimo made 
 himself a power.
 
 PIERO DE' MEDICI 59 
 
 For Florence he could not do enough. By inviting the 
 Pope and the Greek Emperor to meet there he gave it 
 great political importance, and incidentally brought about 
 the New Learning. He established the Platonic Academy 
 and formed the first public library in the west. He rebuilt 
 and endowed the monastery of S. Marco. He built and 
 rebuilt other churches. He gave Donatello a free hand in 
 sculpture and Fra Lippo Lippi and Fra Angelico in painting. 
 He distributed altogether in charity and churches four hun- 
 dred thousand of those golden coins which were invented by 
 Florence and named florins after her a sum equal to a 
 million pounds of to-day. In every direction one comes 
 upon traces of his generosity and thoroughness. After his 
 death it was decided that as Pater Patriae, or Father of 
 his Country, he should be for ever known. 
 
 Cosimo died in 1464, leaving an invalid son, Piero, aged 
 forty-eight, known for his almost continuous gout as 
 II Gottoso. Giovanni and Cosimo had had to work for 
 their power; Piero stepped naturally into it, although 
 almost immediately he had to deal with a plot the first 
 for thirty years to ruin the Medici prestige, the leader of 
 which was that Luca Pitti who began the Pitti palace in order 
 to have a better house than the Medici. The plot failed, 
 not a little owing to young Lorenzo de' Medici's address, 
 and the remaining few years of Piero's life were tranquil. 
 He was a quiet, kindly man with the traditional family 
 love of the arts, and it was for him that Goz/oli worked. 
 He died in 1469, leaving two sons, Lorenzo (1449-1492) 
 and Giuliano (1453-1478). 
 
 Lorenzo had been brought up as the future leading citi- 
 zen of Florence : he had every advantage of education and 
 environment, and was rich in the aristocratic spirit which 
 often blossoms most richly in the second or third generation
 
 60 
 
 of wealthy business families. Giovanni had been a banker 
 before everything, Cosimo an administrator, Piero a faith- 
 ful inheritor of his father's wishes ; it was left for Lorenzo 
 to be the first poet and natural prince of the Medici blood. 
 Lorenzo continued to bank but mismanaged the work and 
 lost heavily ; while his poetical tendencies no doubt dis- 
 tracted his attention generally from affairs. Yet such was his 
 sympathetic understanding and his native splendour and 
 gift of leadership that he could not but be at the head of 
 everything, the first to be consulted and ingratiated. 
 Not only was he the first Medici poet but the first of the 
 family to marry not for love but for policy, and that too 
 was a sign of decadence. 
 
 Lorenzo came into power when only twenty, and at the 
 age of forty-two he was dead, but in the interval, by his 
 interest in every kind of intellectual and artistic activity, 
 by his passion for the greatness and glory of Florence, he 
 made for himself a name that must always connote liber- 
 ality, splendour, and enlightenment. But it is beyond 
 question that under Lorenzo the Florentines changed 
 deeply and for the worse. The old thrift and simplicity 
 gave way to extravagance and ostentation ; the old faith 
 gave way too, but that was not wholly the effect of Lorenzo's 
 natural inclination towards Platonic philosophy, fostered 
 by his tutor Marsilio Ficino and his friends Poliziano and 
 Pico della Mirandola, but was due in no small measure also 
 to the hostility of Pope Sixtus, which culminated in the 
 Pazzi Conspiracy of 1478 and the murder of Giuliano. 
 Looking at the history of Florence from our present 
 vantage-point we can see that although under Lorenzo the 
 Magnificent she was the centre of the world's culture and 
 distinction, there was behind this dazzling front no serious- 
 ness of purpose. She was in short enjoying the fruits of
 
 LOOKING ALONG THE VIA CALZAIOLI FROM THE BAPTISTERY, 
 SHOWING THE BIGALLO AND THE TOP OF OR SAN MICHEI.E
 
 THE SECOND BANISHMENT 61 
 
 her labours as though the time of rest had come ; and this 
 when strenuousness was more than ever important. Lorenzo 
 carried on every good work of his father and grandfather 
 (he spent 65,000 a year in books alone) and was as jealous 
 of Florentine interests ; but he was also " The Magnificent," 
 and in that lay the peril. Florence could do with wealth 
 and power, but magnificence went to her head. 
 
 Lorenzo died in 1492, leaving three sons, of whom the 
 eldest, Piero (1471-1503), succeeded him. Never was such 
 a decadence. In a moment the Medici prestige, which had 
 been steadily growing under Cosimo, Piero, and Lorenzo until 
 it was world famous, crumbled to dust. Piero was a coarse- 
 minded, pleasure-loving youth " The Headstrong " 
 his father had called him whose one idea of power was to 
 be sensual and tyrannical ; and the enemies of Florence 
 and of Italy took advantage of this fact. Savonarola's 
 sermons had paved the way from within too. In 1494 
 Charles VIII of France marched into Italy ; Piero pulled 
 himself together and visited the king to make terms for 
 Florence, but made such terms that on returning to the 
 city he found an order of banishment and obeyed it. On 
 November 9th, 1494, he and his family were expelled, 
 and the mob, forgetting so quickly all that they owed to 
 the Medici who had gone before, rushed to this beautiful 
 palace and looted it. The losses that art and learning 
 sustained in a few hours can never be estimated. A certain 
 number of treasures were subsequently collected again, 
 such as Donatello's David and Verrocchio's David, while 
 Donatello's Judith was removed to the Palazzo Vecchio, 
 where an inscription was placed upon it saying that her 
 short way with Holofernes was a warning to all traitors ; 
 but priceless pictures, sculpture, and MSS. were ruthlessly 
 demolished.
 
 62 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 In thechapter on S. Marco we shall read of what experi- 
 ments in government the Florentines substituted for that 
 of the Medici, Savonarola for a while being at the head 
 of the government, although only for a brief period which 
 ended amid an orgy of lawlessness ; and then, after a restless 
 period of eighteen years, in which Florence had every claw 
 cut and was weakened also by dissension, the Medici returned 
 the change being the work of Lorenzo's second son, Gio- 
 vanni de' Medici, who on the eve of becoming Pope Leo X 
 procured their reinstatement, thus justifying the wisdom 
 of his father in placing him in the Church. Piero having 
 been drowned long since, his admirable but ill-starred 
 brother Giuliano, Duke of Nemours, now thirty -three, as- 
 sumed the control, always under Leo X ; while their cousin, 
 Giulio, also a Churchman, and the natural son of the 
 murdered Giuliano, was busy, behind the scenes, with the 
 family fortunes. 
 
 Giuliano lived only till 1516 and was succeeded by 
 his nephew Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, a son of Piero, 
 a young man of no more political use than his father, 
 and one who quickly became almost equally unpopular. 
 Things indeed were going so badly that Leo X sent Giulio 
 de' Medici (now a cardinal) from Rome to straighten them 
 out, and by some sensible repeals he succeeded in allaying 
 a little of the bitterness in the city. Lorenzo had one 
 daughter, born in this palace, who was destined to make his- 
 tory Catherine de' Medici and no son. When therefore 
 he died in 1519, at the age of twenty-seven, after a life 
 of vicious selfishness (which, however, was no bar to his 
 having the noblest tomb in the world at S. Lorenzo), the 
 succession should have passed to the other branch of 
 the Medici family, the descendants of old Giovanni's second 
 son Lorenzo, brother of Cosimo. But Giulio, at Rome,
 
 POPE CLEMENT VII 63 
 
 always at the ear of the indolent, pleasure-loving Leo X, 
 had other projects. Born in 1478, the illegitimate son 
 of a charming father, Giulio had none of the great Medici 
 traditions, and the Medici name never stood so low as 
 during his period of power. Himself illegitimate, he was 
 the father of an illegitimate son, Alessandro, for whose 
 advancement he toiled much as Alexander VI had toiled for 
 that of Csesar Borgia. He had not the black, bold wicked- 
 ness of Alexander VI, but as Pope Clement VII, which he 
 became in 1523, he was little less admirable. He was 
 cunning, ambitious, and tyrannical, and during his pontifi- 
 cate he contrived not only to make many powerful enemies 
 and to see both Rome and Florence under siege, but to lose 
 England for the Church. 
 
 We move, however, too fast. The year is 1519 and 
 Lorenzo is dead, and the rightful heir to the Medici wealth 
 and power was to be kept out. To do this Giulio himself 
 moved to Florence and settled in the Medici palace, and 
 on his return to Rome Cardinal Passerini was installed in 
 the Medici palace in his stead, nominally as the custodian 
 of little Catherine de' Medici and Ippolito, a boy of ten, 
 the illegitimate son of Giuliano, Duke of Nemours. That 
 Florence should have put up with this Roman control 
 shows us how enfeebled was her once proud spirit. In 1521 
 Leo X died, to be succeeded, in spite of all Giulio's efforts, 
 by Adrian of Utrecht, as Adrian VI, a good, sincere man 
 who, had he lived, might have enormously changed the 
 course not only of Italian but of English history. He 
 survived, however, for less than two years, and then came 
 Giulio's chance, and he was elected Pope Clement VII. 
 
 Clement's first duty was to make Florence secure, and 
 he therefore sent his son Alessandro, then about thirteen, 
 to join the others at the Medici palace, which thus now
 
 64 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 contained a resident cardinal, watchful of Medici interests ; 
 a legitimate daughter of Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino (but 
 owing to quarrels she was removed to a convent) ; an ille- 
 gitimate son of Giuliano, Duke of Nemours, the nominal 
 heir and already a member of the Government; and the 
 Pope's illegitimate son of whose origin, however, nothing 
 was said, although it was implied that Lorenzo, Duke 
 of Nemours, was his father. 
 
 This was the state of affairs during Clement's war with 
 the Emperor Charles V, 1 which ended with the siege of 
 Rome and the imprisonment of the Pope in the Castle of 
 S. Angelo for some months until he contrived to escape 
 to Orvieto ; and meanwhile Florence, realizing his power- 
 lessness, uttered a decree again banishing the Medici family, 
 and in 1527 they were sent forth from the city for the 
 third time. But even now, when the move was so safe, 
 Florence lacked courage to carry it out until a member of 
 the Medici family, furious at the presence of the base-born 
 Medici in the palace, and a professed hater of her base- 
 born uncle Clement VII and all his ways Clarice Strozzi, 
 n6e Clarice de' Medici, granddaughter of Lorenzo the 
 Magnificent came herself to this house and drove the 
 usurpers from it with her extremely capable tongue. 
 
 To explain clearly the position of the Florentine Republic 
 at this time would be too deeply to delve into history, 
 but it may briefly be said that by means of humiliating 
 surrenders and much crafty diplomacy, Clement VII was 
 able to bring about in 1529 peace between the Emperor 
 Charles V and Francis I of France, by which Charles was 
 left master of Italy, while his partner and ally in these 
 transactions, Clement, expected for his own share certain 
 
 1 It was Charles V who said of Giotto's Campanile that it ought to be 
 kept in a glass case.
 
 THE LUCKLESS IPPOLITO 65 
 
 benefits in which the humiliation of Florence and the ex- 
 altation of Alessandro came first. Florence, having taken 
 sides with Francis, found herself in any case very badly 
 left, with the result that at the end of 1529 Charles V's 
 army, with the papal forces to assist, laid siege to her. 
 The siege lasted for ten months, in which the city was 
 most ably defended by Ferrucci, that gallant soldier whose 
 portrait by Piero di Cosimo is in our National Gallery 
 No. 895, and then came a decisive battle in which the 
 Emperor and Pope were conquerors, a thousand brave 
 Florentines were put to death and others were imprisoned. 
 
 Alessandro de' Medici arrived at the Medici palace in 
 1531, and in 1532 the glorious Florentine Republic of so 
 many years growth, for the establishment of which so much 
 good blood had been spilt, was declared to be at an end. 
 Alessandro being proclaimed Duke, his first act was to 
 order the demolition of the great bell of the Signoria which 
 had so often called the citizens to arms or meetings of 
 independence. 
 
 Meanwhile Ippolito, the natural son of Giuliano, Duke 
 of Nemours, and therefore the rightful heir, after having 
 been sent on various missions by Clement VII, to keep him 
 out of the way, settled at Bologna and took to poetry. 
 He was a kindly, melancholy man with a deep sense of 
 human in justice, and in 1535, when, after Clement VII's very 
 welcome demise, the Florentine exiles who either had been 
 banished from Florence by Alessandro or had left of their 
 own volition rather than live in the city under such a 
 contemptible ruler, sent an embassy to the Emperor 
 Charles V to help them against this new tyrant, Ippolito 
 headed it ; but Alessandro prudently arranged for his as- 
 sassination en route. 
 
 It is unlikely, however, that the Emperor would have
 
 66 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 done anything, for in the following year he allowed his 
 daughter Margaret to become Alessandro's wife. That 
 was in 1536. In January, 1537, Lorenzino de' Medici, a 
 cousin, one of the younger branch of the family, assuming 
 the mantle of Brutus, or liberator, stabbed Alessandro to 
 death while he was keeping an assignation in the house that 
 then adjoined this palace. Thus died, at the age of twenty- 
 six, one of the most worthless of men, and, although illegiti- 
 mate, the last of the direct line of Cosimo de' Medici, the 
 Father of his Country, to govern Florence. 
 
 The next ruler came from the younger branch, to which 
 we now turn. Old Giovanni di Bicci had two sons, Cosimo 
 and Lorenzo. Lorenzo's son, Pier Francesco de' Medici, 
 had a son Giovanni de' Medici. This Giovanni, who 
 married Caterina Sforza of Milan, had also a son named 
 Giovanni, born in 1498, and it was he who was the rightful 
 heir when Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, died in 1519. He was 
 connected with both sides of the family, for his father, as 
 I have said, was the great grandson of the first Medici on 
 our list, and his wife was Maria Salviati, daughter of Lu- 
 crezia de' Medici herself a daughter of Lorenzo the Mag- 
 nificent and Jacopo Salviati, a wealthy Florentine. 
 When, however, Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, died in 1519, 
 Giovanni was a young man of twenty-one with an absorb- 
 ing passion for fighting, which Clement VII (then Giulio) 
 was only too keen to foster, since he wished him out of the 
 way in order that his own projects for the ultimate advance- 
 ment of the base-born Alessandro, and meanwhile of the 
 catspaw, the base-born Ippolito, might be furthered. 
 Giovanni had already done some good service in the field, 
 was becoming famous as the head of his company of Black 
 Bands, and was known as Giovanni delle Bande Nere ; and 
 his marriage to his cousin Maria Salviati and the birth of
 
 A DRAMATIC CHANGE 67 
 
 his only son Cosimo in 1519 made no difference to his de- 
 light in warfare. He was happy only when in the field of 
 battle, and the struggle between Francis and Charles gave 
 him ample opportunities, fighting on the side of Charles and 
 the Pope and doing many brave and dashing things. He 
 died at an early age, only twenty-eight, in 1526, the idol of 
 his men, leaving a widow and child in poverty. 
 
 Almost immediately afterwards came the third banish- 
 ment of the Medici family from Florence. Giovanni's 
 widow and their son Cosimo got along as best they could 
 until the murder of Alessandro in 1537, when Cosimo was 
 nearing eighteen. He was a quiet, reserved youth, who had 
 apparently taken but little interest in public affairs, and had 
 spent his time in the country with his mother, chiefly in 
 field sports. But no sooner was Alessandro dead, and his- 
 slayer Lorenzino had escaped, than Cosimo approached the 
 Florentine council and claimed to be appointed to his 
 rightful place as head of the State, and this claim he put, 
 or suggested, with so much humility that his wish was 
 granted. Instantly one of the most remarkable transitions 
 in history occurred : the youth grew up almost in a day 
 and at once began to exert unsuspected reserves of power 
 and authority. In despair a number of the chief Floren- 
 tines made an effort to depose him, and a battle was 
 fought at Montemurlo, a few miles from Florence, be- 
 tween Cosimo's troops, fortified by some French allies, 
 and the insurgents. That was in 1537; the victory 
 fell to Cosimo ; and his long and remarkable reign began 
 with the imprisonment and execution of the chief rebels. 
 
 Although Cosimo made so bloody a beginning he was 
 the first imaginative and thoughtful administrator that 
 Florence had had since Lorenzo the Magnificent. He set 
 himself grimly to build upon the ruins which the past forty
 
 68 THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 and more years had produced ; and by the end of his reign 
 he had worked wonders. As first he lived in the Medici 
 palace, but after marrying a wealthy wife, Eleanora of 
 Toledo, he transferred his home to the Signoria, now called 
 the Palazzo Vecchio, as a safer spot, and established a 
 bodyguard of Swiss lancers in Orcagna's loggia, close by. 1 
 Later he bought the unfinished Pitti palace with his wife's 
 money, finished it, and moved there. Meanwhile he was 
 strengthening his position in every way by alliances and 
 treaties, and also by the convenient murder of Lorenzino, 
 the Brutus who had rid Florence of Alessandro ten years 
 earlier, and whose presence in the flesh could not but be a 
 cause of anxiety since Lorenzino derived from an elder 
 son of the Medici, and Cosimo from a younger. In 1555 
 the ancient republic of Siena fell to Cosimo's troops after 
 a cruel and barbarous siege and was thereafter merged in 
 Tuscany, and in 1570 Cosimo assumed the title of Cosimo 
 I, Grand Duke of Tuscany, and was crowned at Rome. 
 
 Whether or not the common accusation against the Medici 
 as a family, that they had but one motive mercenary 
 ambition and self-aggrandizement is true, the fact remains 
 that the crown did not reach their brows until one hundred 
 and seventy years from the first appearance of old Giovanni 
 di Bicci in Florentine affairs. The statue of Cosimo I in 
 the Piazza della Signoria has a bas-relief of his coronation. 
 He was then fifty-one ; he lived but four more years, and 
 when he died he left a dukedom flourishing in every way : 
 rich, powerful, busy, and enlightened. He had developed 
 and encouraged the arts, capriciously, as Cellini's "Auto- 
 biography" tells us, but genuinely too, as we can see at 
 the Uffizi and the Pitti. The arts, however, were not what 
 they had been, for the great period had passed and Florence 
 1 Hence its new name : Loggia de' Lanzi.
 
 AFTER THE MEDICI 69 
 
 was in the trough of the wave. Yet Cosimo found the best 
 men he could Cellini, Bronzino, and Vasari and kept 
 them busy. But his greatest achievement as a connoisseur 
 was his interest in Etruscan remains and the excavations at 
 Arezzo and elsewhere which yielded the priceless relics now 
 at the Archaeological Museum. 
 
 With Cosimo I this swift review of the Medici family 
 ends. The rest have little interest for the visitor to Flor- 
 ence to-day, for whom Cellini's Perseus, made to Cosimo's 
 order, is the last great artistic achievement in the city in 
 point of time. But I may say that Cosimo I's direct de- 
 scendants occupied the throne (as it had now become) until 
 the death of Gian Gastone, son of Cosimo III, who died in 
 1737. Tuscany passed to Austria until 1801. In 1807 it 
 became French, and in 1814 Austrian again. In 1860 
 it was merged in the Kingdom of Italy under the rule of 
 the monarch who has given his name to the great new 
 Piazza, Vittorio Emmanuele. 
 
 After Gian Gastone's death one other Medici remained 
 alive: Anna Maria Ludovica, daughter of Cosimo III. 
 Born in 1667, she married the Elector Palatine of the Rhine, 
 and survived until 1743. It was she who left to the city 
 the priceless Medici collections, as I have stated in chapter^ A 
 VIIL The earlier and greatest of the Medici are buried ' 
 in the church of S. Lorenzo or in Michelangelo's sacristy ; 
 the later Medici, beginning with Giovanni delle Bande 
 Nere and his wife, and their son Cosimo I, are in the gor- 
 geous mausoleum that adjoins S. Lorenzo and is still being 
 enriched with precious marbles. 
 
 Such is an outline of the history of this wonderful family, 
 and we leave their ancient home, built by the greatest and 
 wisest of them, with mixed feelings of admiration and pity. 
 They were seldom lovable; they were often despicable;
 
 ft) THE RICCARDI PALACE AND THE MEDICI 
 
 but where they were great they were very great indeed. A 
 Latin inscription in the courtyard reminds the traveller 
 of the distinction which the house possesses, calling it the 
 home not only of princes but of knowledge herself and a 
 treasury of the arts. But Florence, although it bought 
 the palace from the Riccardi family a century and more 
 ago, has never cared to give it back its rightful name.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 A forlorn fagade The church of the Medici Cosimo's parents' tomb 
 Donatello's cantoria and pulpits Brunelleschi's sacristy Dona- 
 tello again The palace of the dead Grand Dukes Costly intarsia 
 Michelangelo's sacristy A weary Titan's life The victim of 
 capricious pontiffs The Medici tombs Mementi mori The Casa 
 Buonarroti Brunelleschi's cloisters A model library. 
 
 A RCHITECTURALLY S. Lorenzo does not attract as 
 -^- S. Croce and S. Maria Novella do ; but certain treas- 
 ures of sculpture make it unique. Yet it is a cool scene 
 of noble grey arches, and the ceiling is very happily picked 
 out with gold and colour. Savonarola preached some of 
 his most important sermons here ; here Lorenzo the Mag- 
 nificent was married. 
 
 The fagade has never yet been finished : it is just ragged 
 brickwork waiting for its marble, and likely to wait, al- 
 though such expenditure on marble is going on within 
 a few yards of it as makes one gasp. Not very far away, 
 in the Via Ghibellina, is a house which contains some 
 rough plans by a master hand for this facade, drawn some 
 four hundred years ago the hand of none other than 
 Michelangelo, whose scheme was to make it not only a won- 
 der of architecture but a wonder also of statuary, the f agade 
 having many niches, each to be filled with a sacred figure. 
 But Michelangelo always dreamed on a scale utterly dis- 
 
 71
 
 72 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 proportionate to the foolish little span of life allotted to 
 us, and the S. Lorenzo fagade was never even begun. 
 
 The piazza which these untidy bricks overlook is now 
 given up to stalls and is the centre of the cheap clothing 
 district. Looking diagonally across it from the church one 
 sees the great walls of the courtyard of what is now the 
 Riccardi palace, but was in the great days the Medici 
 palace ; and at the corner, facing the Borgo S. Lorenzo, is 
 Giovanni delle Bande Nere, in stone, by the impossible 
 Bandinelli, looking at least twenty years older than he ever 
 lived to be. 
 
 S. Lorenzo was a very old church in the time of Giovanni 
 de' Medici, the first great man of the family, and had 
 already been restored once, in the eleventh century, but it 
 was his favourite church, chosen by him for his own resting- 
 place, and he spent great sums in improving it. All this 
 with the assistance of Brunelleschi, who is responsible 
 for the interior as we now see it, and would, had he lived, 
 have completed the fagade. After Giovanni came Cosimo, 
 who also devoted great sums to the glory of this church, 
 not only assisting Brunelleschi with his work but inducing 
 Donatello to lavish his genius upon it ; and the church was 
 thus established as the family vault of the Medici race. 
 Giovanni lies here; Cosimo lies here; and Piero; while 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent and Giuliano and certain descen- 
 dants were buried in the Michelangelo sacristy, and all the 
 Grand Dukes in the ostentatious chapel behind the altar. 
 
 Cosimo is buried beneath the floor in front of the high 
 altar, in obedience to his wish, and by the special permis- 
 sion of the Roman Church; and in the same vault lies 
 Donatello. Cosimo, who was buried with all simplicity on 
 August 22nd, 1464, in his last illness recommended Dona- 
 tello, who was then seventy-eight, to his son Piero. The old
 
 CHRIST AND S. THOMAS 
 
 BY VERROCCHIO 
 
 (In a niche by Donatella and Michelozzo in the wall of Or San Miche
 
 THE BRONZE PULPITS 73 
 
 sculptor survived his illustrious patron and friend only two 
 and a half years, declining gently into the grave, and his 
 body was brought here in December, 1466. A monument 
 to his memory was erected in the church in 1896. Piero 
 (the Gouty), who survived until 1469, lies close by, his 
 bronze monument, with that of his brother, being that 
 between the sacristy and the adjoining chapel, in an im- 
 posing porphyry and bronze casket, the work of Verrocchio, 
 one of the richest and most impressive of all the memorial 
 sculptures of the Renaissance. The marble pediment is 
 supported by four tortoises, such as support the monoliths 
 in the Piazza S. Maria Novella. The iron rope work that 
 divides the sacristy from the chapel is a marvel of work- 
 manship. 
 
 But we go too fast : the church before the sacristy, and 
 the glories of the church are Donatello's. We have seen 
 his cantoria in the Museum of the Cathedral. Here is 
 another, not so riotous and jocund in spirit, but in its own 
 way hardly less satisfying. The Museum cantoria has the 
 wonderful frieze of dancing figures ; this is an exercise in 
 marble intarsia. It has the same row of pillars with little 
 specks of mosaic gold ; but its beauty is that of delicate 
 proportions and soft tones. The cantoria is in the left 
 aisle, in its original place ; the two bronze pulpits are in the 
 nave. These have a double interest as being not only 
 Donatello's work but his latest work. They were incom- 
 plete at his death, and were finished by his pupil Bertoldo 
 (1410-1491), and since, as we shall see, Bertoldo became 
 the master of Michelangelo, when he was a lad of fifteen 
 and Bertoldo an old man of eighty, these pupils may be 
 said to form a link between the two great S. Lorenzo 
 sculptors. How fine and free and spirited Bertoldo could 
 be, alone, we shall see at the Bargello. The S. Lorenzo
 
 74 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 pulpits are very difficult to study: nothing wants a 
 stronger light than a bronze relief, and in Florence students 
 of bronze reliefs are accustomed to it, since the most 
 famous of all the Ghiberti doors are in the open air. 
 Only in course of time can one discern the scenes here. 
 The left pulpit is the finer, for it contains the "Crucifixion" 
 and the "Deposition," which to me form the most striking 
 of the panels. 
 
 The other piece of sculpture in the church itself is a 
 ciborium by Desiderio da Settignano, in the chapel at the 
 end of the right transept an exquisite work by this rare 
 and playful and distinguished hand. It is fitting that 
 Desiderio should be here, for he was Donatello's favourite 
 pupil. The S. Lorenzo ciborium is wholly charming, al- 
 though there is a " Deposition " upon it ; the little Boy is 
 adorable; but one sees it with the greatest difficulty owing 
 to the crowded state of the altar and the dim light. The 
 altar picture in the Martelli chapel, where the sympathetic 
 Donatello monument (in the same medium as his " An- 
 nunciation" at S. Croce) is found on the way to the 
 Library is by Lippo Lippi, and is notable for the pretty 
 Virgin receiving the angel's news. There is nice colour 
 in the predella. 
 
 As I have said in the first chapter, we are too prone to 
 ignore the architect. We look at the jewels and lorget 
 the casket. Brunelleschi is a far greater maker of Florence 
 than either Donatello or Michelangelo; but one thinks 
 of him rather as an abstraction than a man or forgets 
 him altogether. Yet the S. Lorenzo sacristy is one of the 
 few perfect things in the world. What most people, how- 
 ever, remember is its tombs, its doors, and its reliefs ; the 
 proportions escape them. I think its shallow easy dome 
 beyond description beautiful. Brunelleschi, who had an
 
 DONATELLO'S SACRISTY 75 
 
 investigating genius, himself painted the quaint constella- 
 tions in the ceiling over the altar. At the Pazzi chapel 
 we shall find similar architecture; but there extraneous 
 colour was allowed to come in. Here such reliefs as were 
 admitted are white too. 
 
 The tomb under the great marble and porphyry table 
 in the centre is that of Giovanni di Bicci, the father, and 
 Piccarda, the mother, of Cosimo Pater, and is usually attri- 
 buted to Buggiano, the adopted son of Brunelleschi, but 
 other authorities give it either to Donatello alone or to 
 Donatello with Michelozzo: both from the evidence of 
 the design and because it is unlikely that Cosimo would 
 ask any one else than one of these two friends of his to 
 carry out a commission so near his heart. The table is part 
 of the scheme and not a chance covering. I think the 
 porphyry centre ought to be movable, so that the beautiful 
 flying figures on the sarcophagus could be seen. But Dona- 
 tello's most striking achievement here is the bronze doors, 
 which are at once so simple and so strong and so surprising 
 by the activity of the virile and spirited holy men, all con- 
 verting each other, thereon depicted. These doors could 
 not well be more different from Ghiberti's, in the casting 
 of which Donatello assisted; those in such high relief, 
 these so low; those so fluid and placid, and these so 
 vigorous. 
 
 Donatello presides over this room (under Brunelleschi). 
 The vivacious, speaking terra-cotta bust of the young S. 
 Lorenzo on the altar is his; the altar railing is probably 
 his ; the frieze of terra-cotta cherubs may be his ; the four 
 low reliefs in the spandrels, which it is so difficult to dis- 
 cern but which photographs prove to be wonderful scenes 
 in the life of S. John the Evangelist so like, as one peers 
 up at them, plastic Piranesis, with their fine masonry are
 
 76 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 his. The other reliefs are Donatello's too ; but the lavabo 
 in the inner sacristy is Verrocchio's, and Verrocchio's tomb 
 of Piero can never be overlooked even amid such a wealth 
 of the greater master's work. 
 
 From this fascinating room fascinating both in itself 
 and in its possessions we pass, after distributing the 
 necessary largesse to the sacristan, to a turnstile which ad- 
 mits, on payment of a lira, to the Chapel of the Princes 
 and to Michelangelo's sacristy. Here is contrast, indeed : 
 the sacristy, austere and classic, and the chapel a very 
 exhibition building of floridity and coloured ornateness, 
 dating from the seventeenth century and not finished yet. 
 In paying the necessary fee to see these buildings one 
 thinks again what the feelings of Giovanni and Cosimo 
 and Lorenzo the Magnificent, and even of Cosimo I, all 
 such generous patrons of Florence, would be, if they could 
 see the present feverish collection of lire in their beautiful 
 city. 
 
 Of the Chapel of the Princes I have little to say. To 
 pass from Michelangelo's sacristy to this is an error; 
 see it, if see it you must, first. While the fagade of S. 
 Lorenzo is still neglected and the cornice of Brunelleschi's 
 dome is still unfinished, this lapidary's show-room is being 
 completed at a cost of millions of lire. Ever since 1888 
 has the floor been in progress, and there are many years' 
 work yet. An enthusiastic custodian gave me a list of the 
 stones which were used in the designs of the coats of arms 
 of Tuscan cities, of which that of Fiesole is the most attrac- 
 tive : Sicily jasper, French jasper, Tuscany jasper, petri- 
 fied wood, white and yellow, Corsican granite, Corsican 
 jasper, Oriental alabaster, French marble, lapis lazuli, verde 
 antico, African marble, Siena marble, Carrara marble, 
 rose agate, mother of pearl, and coral. The names of the
 
 MICHELANGELO'S SACRISTY 77 
 
 Medici are in porphyry and ivory. It is all very marvellous 
 and occasionally beautiful; but . . . 
 
 This pretentious building was designed by a natural son 
 of Cosimo I in 1604, and was begun as the state mausoleum 
 of the Grand Dukes ; and all lie here. All the Grand 
 Duchesses too, save Bianca Capella, wife of Francis I, who 
 was buried none knows where. It is strange to realize as 
 one stands here that this pavement covers all those ladies, 
 buried in their wonderful clothes. We shall see Eleanor 
 of Toledo, wife of Cosimo I, in Bronzino's famous picture 
 at the Uffizi, in an amazing brocaded dress : it is that dress 
 in which she reposes beneath us ! They had their jewels 
 too, and each Grand Duke his crown and sceptre; but 
 these, with one or two exceptions, were stolen during the 
 French occupation of Tuscany, 1801-1814. Only two of 
 the Grand Dukes have their statues Ferdinand I and 
 Cosimo II and the Medici no longer exist in the Floren- 
 tine memory ; and yet the quiet brick floor is having all 
 this money squandered on it to superimpose costly marbles 
 which cannot matter to anybody. 
 
 Michelangelo's chapel, called the New Sacristy, was 
 begun for Leo X and finished for Giulio de' Medici, illegiti- 
 mate son of the murdered Giuliano and afterwards Pope 
 Clement VII. Brunelleschi's design for the Old Sacristy 
 was followed but made more severe. This, one would feel 
 to be the very home of dead princes even if there were no 
 statues. The only colours are the white of the walls and 
 the brown of the pillars and windows; the dome was to 
 have been painted, but it fortunately escaped. 
 
 The contrast between Michelangelo's dome and Brunel- 
 leschi's is complete Brunelleschi's so suave and gentle in 
 its rise, with its grey lines to help the eye, and this soaring 
 so boldly to its lantern, with its rigid device of dwin-
 
 78 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 dling squares. The odd thing is that with these two domes 
 to teach him better the designer of the Chapel of the 
 Princes should have indulged in such floridity. 
 
 Such is the force of the architecture in the sacristy that 
 one is profoundly conscious of being in melancholy's most 
 perfect home; and the building is so much a part of 
 Michelangelo's life and it contains such marvels from his 
 hand that I choose it as a place to tell his story. Michel- 
 angelo Buonarroti was born on March 6th, 1475, at Caprese, 
 of which town his father was Podesta. At that time 
 Brunelleschi had been dead twenty-nine years, Fra Angelico 
 twenty years, Donatello nine years, Leonardo da Vinci 
 was twenty-three years old, and Raphael was not yet born. 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent had been on what was virtually 
 the throne of Florence since 1469 and was a young man of 
 twenty-six. For foster-mother the child had the wife of a 
 stone-mason at Settignano, whither the family soon moved, 
 and Michelangelo used to say that it was with her milk 
 that he imbibed the stone-cutting art. It was from the air 
 too, for Settignano's principal industry was sculpture. 
 The village being only three miles from Florence, from it 
 the boy could see the city much as we see it now its 
 Duomo, its campanile, with the same attendant spires. He 
 was sent to Florence to school and intended for either the 
 wool or silk trade, as so many Florentines were ; but dis- 
 playing artistic ability, he induced his father to apprentice 
 him, at the age of thirteen, to a famous goldsmith and 
 painter of Florence who had a busy atelier no other than 
 Domenico Ghirlandaio, who was then a man of thirty- 
 nine. 
 
 Michelangelo remained with him for three years, and 
 although his power and imagination were already greater 
 then his master's, he learned much, and would never have
 
 A GARDEN OF SCULPTURE 79 
 
 made his Sistine Chapel frescoes with the ease he did but 
 for this early grounding. For Ghirlandaio, although not of 
 the first rank of painters in genius, was pre-eminently there 
 in thoroughness, while he was good for the boy too in 
 spirit, having a large way with him. The first work of 
 Ghirlandaio which the boy saw in the making was the 
 beautiful "Adoration of the Magi," in the Church of the 
 Spedale degli Innocenti, completed in 1488, and the S. 
 Maria Novella frescoes, and it is reasonable to suppose that 
 he helped with the frescoes in colour grinding, even if he 
 did not, as some have said, paint with his own hand the 
 beggar sitting on the steps in the scene representing the 
 " Presentation of the Virgin." That he was already clever 
 with his pencil we know, for he had made some caricatures 
 and corrected a drawing or two. 
 
 The three years with Ghirlandaio were reduced eventu- 
 ally to one, the boy having the good fortune to be chosen 
 as one of enough promise to be worth instruction, both by 
 precept and example, in the famous Medici garden. Here 
 he was more at home than in a painting room, for plastic 
 art was his passion, and not only had Lorenzo the Magnifi- 
 cent gathered together there many of those masterpieces of 
 ancient sculpture which we shall see at the Uffizi, but 
 Bertoldo, the aged head of this informal school, was the 
 possessor of a private collection of Donatellos and other 
 Renaissance work of extraordinary beauty and worth. 
 Donatello's influence on the boy held long enough for him 
 to make the low relief of the Madonna, much in his style, 
 which is now preserved in the Casa Buonarroti, while the 
 plaque of the battle of the Centaurs and Lapithae which 
 is also there shows Bertoldo's influence. 
 
 The boy's first encounter with Lorenzo occurred while 
 he was modelling the head of an aged faun. His mag-
 
 80 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 nificent patron stopped to watch him, pointing out that so 
 old a creature would probaby not have such a fine set of 
 teeth, and Michelangelo, taking the hint, in a moment had 
 not only knocked out a tooth or two but and here his 
 observation told hollowed the gums and cheeks a little in 
 sympathy. Lorenzo was so pleased with his quickness and 
 skill that he received him into his house as the companion 
 of his three sons : of Piero, who was so soon and so disas- 
 trously to succeed his father, but was now a high-spirited 
 youth ; of Giovanni, who, as Pope Leo X many years after, 
 was to give Michelangelo the commission for this very 
 sacristy; and of Giuliano, who lies beneath one of the 
 tombs. As their companion he enjoyed the advantage of 
 sharing their lessons under Poliziano, the poet, and of hear- 
 ing the conversation of Pico della Mirandola, who was 
 usually with Lorenzo; and to these early fastidious and 
 intellectual surroundings the artist owed much. 
 
 That he read much, we know, the Bible and Dante being 
 constant companions ; and we know also that in addition 
 to modelling and copying under Bertoldo, he was assiduous 
 in studying Masaccio's frescoes at the church of the Car- 
 mine across the river, which had become a school of 
 painting. It was there that his fellow-pupil, Pietro Tor- 
 rigiano, who was always his enemy and a bully, broke 
 his nose with one blow and flew to Rome from the rage of 
 Lorenzo. 
 
 It was when Michelangelo was seventeen that Lorenzo 
 died, at the early age of forty-two, and although the gar- 
 den still existed and the Medici palace was still open to 
 the youth, the spirit had passed. Piero, who succeeded his 
 father, had none of his ability or sagacity, and in two years 
 was a refugee from the city, while the treasures of the 
 garden were disposed by auction, and Michelangelo, too
 
 PUTTO WITH DOLPHIN 
 
 FROM THE BRONZE BY VERROCCHIO IN THE PALAZZO VECCHIO
 
 DAVID AND THE CARTOON 81 
 
 conspicuous as a Medici protege to be safe, hurried away 
 to Bologna. He was now nineteen. 
 
 Of his travels I say nothing here, for we must keep to 
 Florence, whither he thought it safe to return in 1495. 
 The city was now governed by the Great Council and the 
 Medici banished. Michelangelo remained only a brief 
 time and then went to Rome, where he made his first 
 Pieta, at which he was working during the trial and exe- 
 cution of Savonarola, whom he admired and reverenced, 
 and where he remained until 1501, when, aged twenty-six, 
 he returned to Florence to do some of his most famous 
 work. The Medici were still in exile. 
 
 It was in August, 1501, that the authorities of the 
 cathedral asked Michelangelo to do what he could with 
 a great block of marble on their hands, from which he 
 carved that statue of David of which I tell the story in 
 chapter XVI. This established his pre-eminence as a 
 sculptor. Other commissions for statues poured in, and 
 in 1504 he was invited to design a cartoon for the Palazzo 
 Vecchio, to accompany one by Leonardo, and a studio was 
 given him in the Via Guelfa for the purpose. This cartoon, 
 when finished, so far established him also as the greatest 
 of painters that the Masaccios in the Carmine were deserted 
 by young artists in order that this might be studied in- 
 stead. The cartoon, as I relate in the chapter on the 
 Palazzo Vecchio, no longer exists. 
 
 The next year, 1505, Michelangelo, nearing his thirtieth 
 birthday, returned to Rome and entered upon the second 
 and tragic period of his life, for he arrived there only to 
 receive the order for the Julius tomb which poisoned his 
 remaining years, and of which more is said in the chapter on 
 the Accademia, where we see so many vestiges of it both 
 in marble and plaster. But I might remark here that this
 
 82 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 vain and capricious pontiff whose pride and indecision 
 robbed the world of no one can ever say what glorious 
 work from Michelangelo's hand, is the benevolent-looking 
 old man whose portrait by Raphael is in the Pitti and 
 Uffizi in colour, in the Corsini Palace in charcoal, and 
 again in our own National Gallery in colour. 
 
 Of Michelangelo at Rome and Carrara, whither he 
 went to superintend in person the quarrying of the marble 
 that was to be transferred to life and where he had endless 
 vexations and mortifications, I say nothing. Enough that 
 the election of his boy friend Giovanni de' Medici as Pope 
 Leo X in 1513 brought him again to Florence, the Pope 
 having a strong wish that Michelangelo should complete 
 the fagade of the Medici family church, S. Lorenzo, where 
 we now are. As we know, the scheme was not carried out, 
 but in 1520 the Pope substituted another and more attrac- 
 tive one: namely, a chapel to contain the tombs not 
 only of his father the Magnificent, and his uncle, who had 
 been murdered in the Duomo many years before, but also 
 his nephew Piero de' Medici, Duke of Urbino, who had 
 just died, in 1519, and his younger brother (and Michel- 
 angelo's early playmate) Giuliano de' Medici, Duke of 
 Nemours, who had died in 1516. These were not Medici 
 of the highest class, but family pride was strong. It is, 
 however, odd that no memorial of Piero di Lorenzo de' 
 Medici, who had been drowned at the age of twenty-two 
 in 1503, was required ; perhaps it may have been that since 
 it was Piero's folly that had brought the Medici into such 
 disgrace in 1494, the less thought of him the better. 
 
 Michelangelo took fire at once, and again hastened 
 to Carrara to arrange for marble to be sent to his studio 
 in the Via Mozzi, now the Via S. Zenobi; while the 
 building stone was brought from Fiesole. Leo X lived
 
 REBUKING A POPE 83 
 
 only to know that the great man had begun, the new 
 patron being Giulio de' Medici, natural son of the mur- 
 dered Giuliano, now a cardinal, and soon, in 1523, to be- 
 come Pope Clement VII. This Pope showed deep interest 
 in the project, but wished not only to add tombs of him- 
 self and Pope Leo X, but also to build a library for the 
 Laurentian collection, which Michelangelo must design. 
 A little later he had decided that he would prefer to lie 
 in the choir of the church, and Leo X with him, and 
 instead therefore of tombs Michelangelo might merely 
 make a colossal statue of him to stand in the piazza before 
 the church. The sculptor's temper had not been improved 
 by his many years' experience of papal caprice, and he replied 
 to this suggestion with a letter unique even hi the annals 
 of infuriated artists. Let the statue be made, of course, 
 he said, but let it be useful as well as ornamental : the 
 lower portion to be also a barber's shop, and the head, 
 since it would be empty, a greengrocer's. The Pope 
 allowed himself to be rebuked, and abandoned the statue, 
 writing a mild and even pathetic reply. 
 
 Until 1527 Michelangelo worked away at the building 
 and the tombs, always secretly, behind impenetrable bar- 
 riers ; and then came the troubles which led to the siege 
 of Florence, following upon the banishment of Alessandro, 
 Duke of Urbino, natural son of the very Lorenzo whom 
 the sculptor was to dignify for all time. By the Emperor 
 Charles V and Pope Clement VII the city was attacked, and 
 Michelangelo was called away from Clement's sacristy to 
 fortify Florence against Clement's soldiers. Part of his 
 ramparts at S. Miniato still remain, and he strengthened 
 all the gates ; but, feeling himself slighted and hating the 
 whole affair, he suddenly disappeared. One story is that 
 he hid in the church tower of S. Niccolo, below what is
 
 84 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 now the Piazzale dedicated to his memory. Wherever he 
 was, he was proclaimed an outlaw, and then, on Florence 
 finding that she could not do without him, was pardoned, 
 and so returned, the city meanwhile having surrendered 
 and the Medici again being restored to power. 
 
 The Pope showed either fine magnanimity or com- 
 pounded with facts in the interest of the sacristy; for 
 he encouraged Michelangelo to proceed, and the pacific 
 work was taken up once more after the martial interreg- 
 num, and in a desultory way he was busy at it, always 
 secretly and moodily, until 1533, when he tired com- 
 pletely and never touched it again. A year later Clem- 
 ent VII died, having seen only drawings of the tombs, if 
 those. 
 
 But though left unfinished, the sacristy is wholly satis- 
 fying more indeed than satisfying, conquering. What- 
 ever help Michelangelo may have had from his assistants, 
 it is known that the symbolical figures on the tombs and 
 the two seated Medici are from his hand. Of the two 
 finished or practically finished tombs to my mind as 
 finished as they should be that of Lorenzo is the finer. 
 The presentment of Lorenzo in armour brooding and plan- 
 ning is more splendid than that of Giuliano ; while the old 
 man, whose head anticipates everything that is considered 
 most original in Rodin's work, is among the best of Michel- 
 angelo's statuary. Much speculation has been indulged in 
 as to the meaning of the symbolism of these tombs, and 
 having no theory of my own to offer, I am glad to borrow 
 Mr. Gerald S. Davies' summary from his monograph on 
 Michelangelo. The figure of Giuliano typifies energy 
 and leadership in repose; while the man on his tomb 
 typifies Day and the woman Night, or the man Action and 
 the woman the sleep and rest that produce Action. The
 
 THE MEDICI TOMBS 85 
 
 figure of Lorenzo typifies Contemplation, the woman 
 Dawn, and the man Twilight, the states which lie between 
 light and darkness, action and rest. What Michelangelo 
 who owed nothing to any Medici save only Lorenzo the 
 Magnificent and had seen the best years of his life frittered 
 away in the service of them and other proud princes may 
 also have intended we shall never know ; but he was a sat- 
 urnine man with a long memory, and he might easily have 
 made the tombs a vehicle for criticism. One would not 
 have another touch of the chisel on either of the symbolical 
 male figures. 
 
 Although a tomb to Lorenzo the Magnificent by Michel- 
 angelo would surely have been a wonderful thing, there is 
 something startling and arresting in the circumstance that 
 he has none at all from any hand, but lies here unrecorded. 
 His grandfather, in the church itself, rests beneath a plain 
 slab, which aimed so consciously at modesty as thereby to 
 achieve special distinction ; Lorenzo, leaving no such direc- 
 tions, has nothing, while in the same room are monuments 
 to two commonplace descendants to thrill the soul. The 
 disparity is in itself monumental. That Michelangelo's 
 Madonna and Child are on the slab which covers the dust of 
 Lorenzo and his brother is a chance. The saints on either 
 side are S. Cosimo and S. Damian, the patron saints of old 
 Cosimo de' Medici, and are by Michelangelo's assistants. 
 The Madonna was intended for the altar of the sacristy. 
 Into this work the sculptor put much of his melancholy, 
 and, one feels, disappointment. The face of the Madonna 
 is already sad and hopeless ; but the Child is perhaps the 
 most splendid and determined of any in all Renaissance 
 sculpture. He may, if we like, symbolize the new genera- 
 tion that is always deriving sustenance from the old, with- 
 out care or thought of what the old has to suffer; he
 
 86 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 crushes his head against his mother's breast in a very 
 passion of vigorous dependence. 1 
 
 Whatever was originally intended, it is certain that in 
 Michelangelo's sacristy disillusionment reigns as well as 
 death. But how beautiful it is ! 
 
 In a little room leading from the sacristy I was shown 
 by a smiling custodian Lorenzo the Magnificent's coffin 
 crumbling away, and photographs of the skulls of the two 
 brothers : Giuliano's with one of Francesco de' Pazzi's 
 dagger wounds in it, and Lorenzo's, ghastly in its decay. 
 I gave the man hah* a lira. 
 
 While he was working on the tombs Michelangelo had 
 undertaken now and then a small commission, and to this 
 period belongs the David which we shall see in the little 
 room on the ground floor of the Bargello. In 1534, when 
 he finally abandoned the sacristy, and, leaving Florence 
 for ever, settled in Rome, the Laurentian library was only 
 begun, and he had little interest in it. He never saw it 
 again. At Rome his time was fully occupied in painting 
 the "Last Judgment" in the Sistine Chapel, and in various 
 architectural works. But Florence at any rate has two 
 marble masterpieces that belong to the later period 
 the Brutus in the Bargello and the Pieta in the Duomo, 
 which we have seen that poignantly impressive rendering 
 of the entombment upon which the old man was at work 
 when he died, and which he meant for his own grave. 
 
 His death came in 1564, on February 23rd, when he was 
 nearly eighty-nine, and his body was brought to Florence 
 and buried amid universal grief in S. Croce, where it has 
 a florid monument. 
 
 1 In the Victoria and Albert Museum at South Kensington are casts of 
 the two Medici on the tombs and also this Madonna and Child. They 
 are in the great gallery of the casts, together with the great David, two 
 of the Julian tomb prisoners, the Bargello tondo and the Brutus.
 
 MADONNA ADORING 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING ASCRIBED TO FILIPPINO LIPPI IN THE UFFIZI
 
 THE CASA BUONARROTI 87 
 
 Since we are considering the life of Michelangelo, I might 
 perhaps say here a few words about his house, which is 
 only a few minutes' distant at No. 64 Via Ghibellina 
 where certain early works and personal relics are preserved. 
 Michelangelo gave the house to his nephew Leonardo ; it 
 was decorated early in the seventeenth century with scenes 
 in the life of the master, and finally bequeathed to the 
 city as a heritage in 1858. It is perhaps the best example 
 of the rapacity of the Florentines ; for notwithstanding 
 that it was left freely in this way a lira is charged for 
 admission. The house contains more collateral curiosities, 
 as they might be called, than those in the direct line ; but 
 there are architectural drawings from the wonderful hand, 
 colour drawings of a Madonna, a few studies, and two early 
 pieces of sculpture the battle of the Lapithae and Cen- 
 taurs, a relief marked by tremendous vigour and full of 
 movement, and a Madonna and Child, also in relief, with 
 many marks of greatness upon it. In a recess in Room IV 
 are some personal relics of the artist, which his great 
 nephew, the poet, who was named after him, began to 
 collect early in the seventeenth century. As a whole the 
 house is disappointing. 
 
 Upstairs have been arranged a quantity of prints and 
 drawings illustrating the history of Florence. 
 
 The S. Lorenzo cloisters may be entered either from 
 a side door in the church close to the Old Sacristy or 
 from the piazza. Although an official in uniform keeps 
 the piazza door, they are free. Brunelleschi is again 
 the architect, and from the loggia at the entrance to 
 the library you see most acceptably the whole of his 
 cathedral dome and half of Giotto's tower. It is im- 
 possible for Florentine cloisters or indeed any cloisters 
 not to have a certain beauty, and these are unusually
 
 88 S. LORENZO AND MICHELANGELO 
 
 charming and light, seen both from the loggia and the 
 ground. 
 
 Michelangelo's Biblioteca Laurenziana, which leads from 
 them, is one of the most perfect of sombre buildings, the 
 very home of well-ordered scholarship. The staircase is 
 impressive, although perhaps a little too severe ; the long 
 room could not be more satisfying to the eye. Michelangelo 
 died before it was finished, but it is his in design, even to 
 the ceiling and cases for MSS. in which the library is so 
 rich, and the rich red wood ceiling. Vasari, Michelangelo's 
 pupil and friend and the biographer to whom we are so 
 much indebted, carried on the work. His scheme of 
 windows has been upset on the side opposite the cloisters 
 by the recent addition of a rotunda leading from the main 
 room. If ever rectangular windows were more exquisitely 
 and nobly proportioned I should like to see them. The 
 library is free for students, and the attendants are very 
 good in calling stray visitors' attention to illuminated 
 missals, old MSS., early books and so forth. One of 
 Galileo's fingers, stolen from his body, used to be kept 
 here, in a glass case, and may be here still ; but I did not 
 see it. I saw, however, the portraits, in an old volume, 
 of Petrarch and his Laura. 
 
 This wonderful collection was begun by Cosimo de' 
 Medici; others added to it until it became one of the 
 most valuable in the world, not, however, without various 
 vicissitudes incident to any Florentine institution : while 
 one of its most cherished treasures, the Virgil of the fourth 
 or fifth century, was even carried to Paris by Napoleon and 
 not returned until the great year of restoration, 1816. 
 Among the holograph MSS. is Cellini's "Autobiography." 
 The library, in time, after being confiscated by the Re- 
 public and sold to the monks of S. Marco, again passed
 
 THE S. LORENZO CATS 89 
 
 into the possession of a Medici, Leo X, son of Lorenzo 
 the Magnificent, and then of Clement VII, and he it was 
 who commissioned Michelangelo to house it with dignity. 
 An old daily custom in the cloisters of S. Lorenzo was 
 the feeding of cats ; but it has long since been dropped. If 
 you look at Mr. Hewlett's "Earthwork out of Tuscany" 
 you will find an entertaining description of what it used 
 to be like.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 OR SAN MICHELE AND THE PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 The little Bigallo The Misericordia Or San Michele Andrea Or- 
 cagna The Tabernacle Old Glass A company of stone saints 
 Donatello's S. George Dante conferences The Guilds of Florence 
 The Palazzo Vecchio Two Towers Bandinelli's group The Marzocco 
 The Piazza della Signoria Orcagna's Loggia Cellini and Cosimo 
 The Perseus Verrocchio 's dolphin The G reat Council Hall Leo- 
 nardo da Vinci and Michelangelo's cartoons Bandinellli's malice The 
 Palazzo Vecchio as a home Two cells and the bell of independence. 
 
 LET us now proceed along the Via Calzaioli (which 
 means street of the stocking-makers) running 
 away from the Piazza del Duomo to the Piazza della 
 Signoria. The fascinatingly pretty building at the corner, 
 opposite Pisano's Baptistery doors, is the Bigallo, in the 
 loggia of which foundling children used to be displayed 
 in the hope that passers-by might pity them sufficiently 
 to make them presents or even adopt them; but this 
 custom continues no longer. The Bigallo was designed, 
 it is thought, by Orcagna, and it is worth the minutest 
 study. 
 
 The Company of the Bigallo, which is no longer an active 
 force, was one of the benevolent societies of old Florence. 
 But the greatest of these societies, still busy and merciful, 
 is the Misericordia, whose head-quarters are just across the 
 Via Calzaioli, in the piazza, facing the campanile, a 
 Company of Florentines pledged at a moment's notice, no 
 
 90
 
 THE PALAZZO VECCHIO
 
 THE MISERICORDIA 91 
 
 matter on what they may be engaged, to assist in any 
 charitable work of necessity. For the most part they 
 carry ambulances to the scenes of accident and perform the 
 last offices for the dead in the poorer districts. When 
 on duty they wear black robes and hoods. Their head- 
 quarters comprise a chapel, with an altar by Andrea della 
 Robbia, and a statue of the patron saint of the Miseri- 
 cordia, S. Sebastian. But their real patron saint is their 
 founder, a common porter named Pietro Borsi. In the 
 thirteenth century it was the custom for the porters and 
 loafers connected with the old market to meet in a shelter 
 here and pass the time away as best they could. Borsi, 
 joining them, was distressed to find how unprofitable 
 were the hours, and he suggested the formation of a society 
 to be of some real use, the money to support it to be 
 obtained by fines in payment for oaths and blasphemies. 
 A litter or two were soon bought and the machinery 
 started. The name was the Company of the Brothers of 
 Mercy. That was in 1240 to 1250. To-day no Florentine 
 is too grand to take his part, and at the head of the porter's 
 band of brethren is the King. 
 
 Passing along the Via Calzaioli we come on the right to 
 a noble square building with statues in its niches Or 
 San Michele, which stands on the site of the chapel of 
 San Michele in Orto. San Michele in Orto, or more prob- 
 ably in Horreo (meaning either in the garden or in the 
 granary), was once part of a loggia used as a corn market, 
 in which was preserved a picture by Ugolino da Siena 
 representing the Virgin, and this picture had the power of 
 working miracles. Early in the fourteenth century the 
 loggia was burned down but the picture was saved (or 
 quickly replaced), and a new building on a much larger and 
 more splendid scale was made for it, none other than Or
 
 92 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 San Michele, the chief architect being Taddeo Gaddi, 
 Giotto's pupil and later the constructor of the Ponte Vecchio. 
 Where the picture then was, I cannot say whether inside 
 the building or out but the principal use of the building 
 was to serve as a granary. After 1348, when Florence was 
 visited by that ravaging plague which Boccaccio describes 
 in such gruesome detail at the beginning of the "De- 
 cameron" and which sent his gay company of ladies and 
 gentlemen to the Villa Palmieri to take refuge in story tell- 
 ing, and when this sacred picture was more than commonly 
 busy and efficacious, it was decided to apply the enormous 
 sums of money given to the shrine from gratitude in 
 beautifying the church still more, and chiefly in providing a 
 casket worthy of holding such a pictorial treasure. Hence 
 came about the noble edifice of to-day. 
 
 A man of universal genius was called in to execute the 
 tabernacle : Andrea Orcagna, a pupil probably of Andrea 
 Pisano, and also much influenced by Giotto, whom though 
 he had not known he idolized, and one who, like Michel- 
 angelo later, was not only a painter and sculptor but an 
 architect and a poet. Orcagna, or, to give him his right 
 name, Andrea di Cione, for Orcagna was an abbreviation 
 of Arcagnolo, flourished in the middle of the fourteenth 
 century. Among his best-known works in painting are 
 the Dantesque frescoes in the Strozzi chapel at S. Maria 
 Novella, and that terrible allegory of Death and Judgment 
 in the Campo Santo at Pisa, in which the gay riding party 
 come upon the three open graves. Orcagna put all his 
 strength into the tabernacle of Or San Michele, which is 
 a most sumptuous, beautiful, and thoughtful shrine, yet 
 owing to the darkness of the church almost invisible. 
 Guides, it is true, will emerge from the gloom and hold 
 lighted tapers to it, but a right conception of it is impos-
 
 ORCAGNA THE VARIOUS 93 
 
 sible. The famous miraculous picture over the altar is 
 notable rather for its properties than for its intrinsic beauty ; 
 it is the panels of the altar, which contain Orcagna's most 
 exquisite work, representing scenes in the life of the Virgin, 
 with emblematical figures interspersed, that one wishes to 
 see. Only the back, however, can be seen really well, and 
 this only when a door opposite to it in the Via Calzaioli 
 is opened. It should always be open, with a grille 
 across it, that passers-by might have constant sight of this 
 almost unknown Florentine treasure. It is in the relief of 
 the death of the Virgin on the back that on the extreme 
 right Orcagna introduced his own portrait. The marble 
 employed is of a delicate softness, and Orcagna had 
 enough of Giotto's tradition to make the Virgin a reality 
 and to interest Her, for example, as a mother in the wash- 
 ing of Her Baby, as few painters have done, and in partic- 
 ular, as, according to Ruskin, poor Ghirlandaio could not 
 do in his fresco of the birth of the Virgin Herself. It 
 was Orcagna's habit to sign his sculpture "Andrea di Cione, 
 painter," and his paintings "Andrea di Cione, sculptor," 
 and thus point his versatility. By this tabernacle, by his 
 Pisan fresco, and by the designs of the Loggia de' Lanzi and 
 the Bigallo (which are usually given to him), he takes his 
 place among the most interesting and various of the fore- 
 runners of the Renaissance. 
 
 Within Or San Michele you learn the secret of the 
 stoned-up windows which one sees with regret from without. 
 Each, or nearly each, has an altar against it. What the old 
 glass was like one can divine from the lovely and sombre 
 top lights in exquisite patterns that are left ; that on the 
 centre of the right wall of the church, as one enters, having 
 jewels of green glass as lovely as any I ever saw. But 
 blues, purples, and reds predominate.
 
 94 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 The tabernacle apart, the main appeal of Or San Michele 
 is the statuary and stone-work of the exterior; for here 
 we find the early masters at their best. The building 
 being the head-quarters of the twelve Florentine guilds, 
 the statues and decorations were commissioned by them. 
 It is as though pur City companies should unite in beautify- 
 ing the Guildhall. Donatello is the greatest artist here, 
 and it was for the Armourers that he made his S. George, 
 which stands now, as he carved it in marble, in the Bargello, 
 but has a bronze substitute in its original niche, below 
 which is a relief of the slaying of the dragon from Dona- 
 tello's chisel. Of this glorious S. George more will be said 
 later. But I may remark now that in its place here it in- 
 stantly proves the modernity and realistic vigour of its 
 sculptor. Fine though they be, all the other statues of this 
 building are conventional ; they carry on a tradition of re- 
 ligious sculpture such as Niccolo Pisano respected, many 
 years earlier, when he worked at the Pisan pulpit. But 
 Donatello's S. George is new and is as beautiful as a Greek 
 god, with something of real human life added. 
 
 Donatello (with Michelozzo) also made the exquisite 
 border of the niche in the Via Calzaioli facade, in which 
 Christ and S. Thomas now stand. He was also to have 
 made the figures (for the Merchant's Guild) but war, busy 
 elsewhere, and they fell to Verrocchio, of whom also we 
 shall have much to see and say at the Bargello, and to my 
 mind they are the most beautiful of all. The John the 
 Baptist (made for the Cloth-dealers), also on this facade, is 
 by Ghiberti of the Baptistery gates. On the fagade of the 
 Via de' Lamberti is Donatello's superb S. Mark (for the 
 Joiners), which led to Michelangelo's criticism that he had 
 never seen a man who looked more virtuous, and if S. Mark 
 were really like that he would believe all his words. " Why
 
 THE FLORENTINE GUILDS 95 
 
 don't you speak to me ?" he also said to this statue, as 
 Donatello had said to the Zuccone. Higher on this fagade 
 is Luca della Robbia's famous arms of the Silk-weavers, one 
 of the perfect things. Luca also made the arms of the 
 Guild of Merchants, with its Florentine fleur-de-lis in the 
 midst. For the rest, Ghiberti's S. Stephen, and Ghiberti 
 and Michelozzo's S. Matthew, on the entrance wall, are the 
 most remarkable. The blacksmith relief is very lively and 
 the blacksmith's saint a noble figure. 
 
 The little square reliefs let into the wall at intervals 
 are often charming, and the stone-work of the windows is 
 very lovely. In fact, the four walls of this fortress church 
 are almost inexhaustible. Within, its vaulted roof is so 
 noble, its proportions so satisfying. One should often sit 
 quietly here, in the gloom, and do nothing. 
 
 The little building just across the way was the Guild 
 House of the Arte della Lana, or Wool-combers, and is now 
 the head-quarters of the Italian Dante Society, who hold a 
 conference every Thursday in the large room over Or San 
 Michele, gained by the flying buttress-bridge. The dark 
 picture on the outer wall is the very Madonna to which, 
 when its position was at the Mercato Vecchio, condemned 
 criminals used to pray on their way to execution. 
 
 Before we leave Or San Michele and the Arte della Lana, 
 a word on the guilds of Florence is necessary, for at a 
 period in Florentine history between, say, the middle of the 
 thirteenth century and the beginning of the fifteenth, they 
 were the very powerful controllers of the domestic affairs 
 of the city; and it is possible that it would have been 
 better for the Florentines had they continued to be so. 
 For Florence was essentially mercantile and the guilds 
 were composed of business men; and it is natural that 
 business men should know better than noblemen what a
 
 96 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 business city needed. They were divided into major guilds, 
 chief of which were the woollen merchants the Arte della 
 Lana and the silk merchants the Calimala and it was 
 their pride to put their riches at the city's service. Thus, 
 the Arte della Lana had charge of the building of the 
 cathedral. Each of the major guilds provided a Prior, and 
 the Priors elected the Signoria, who governed the city. It 
 is one of the principal charges that is brought against 
 Cosimo de' Medici that he broke the power of the guilds. 
 
 Returning to the Via Calzaioli, and turning to the 
 right, we come very quickly to the Piazza della Signoria, 
 and see before us, diagonally across it, the Loggia de' Lanzi 
 and the Palazzo Vecchio, with the gleaming, gigantic 
 figure of Michelangelo's David against the dark gateway. 
 This, more than the Piazza del Duomo, is the centre of 
 Florence. 
 
 The Palazzo Vecchio was for centuries called the Sig- 
 noria, being the home of the Gonfalonier of Florence and 
 the Signoria who assisted his councils. It was begun by 
 Arnolfo, the architect of the Duomo and S. Croce, at the 
 end of the thirteenth century, that being, as we have seen, 
 a period of great prosperity and ambition in Florence, but 
 many alterations and additions were made by Michelozzo, 
 Cronaca, Vasari, and others to bring it to what it now is. 
 After being the scene of many riots, executions, and much 
 political strife and dubiety* it became a ducal palace in 
 1532, and is now a civic building and show-place. In the 
 old days the Palazzo had a ringhiera, or platform, in front 
 of it, from which proclamations were made. To know what 
 this was like one has but to go to S. Trinita on a very fine 
 morning and look at Ghirlandaio's fresco of the granting 
 of the charter to S. Francis. The scene, painted in 1485, 
 includes, not only the Signoria but the Loggia de' Lanzi
 
 TWO TOWERS : A CONTRAST 97 
 
 (then the Loggia dell' Orcagna) both before any statues 
 were set up. 
 
 Every fagade of the Palazzo Vecchio is splendid. I can- 
 not say which I admire more that which one sees from 
 the Loggia de' Lanzi, with its beautiful coping of corbels, 
 at once so heavy and so light, with coloured escutcheons 
 between them, or that in the Via de' Gondi, with its fine 
 jumble of old brickwork among the stones. The Palazzo 
 Vecchio is one of the most resolute and independent build- 
 ings in the world ; and it had need to be strong, for the waves 
 of Florentine revolt were always breaking against it. The 
 tower rising from this square fortress has at once grace and 
 strength and presents a complete contrast to Giotto's cam- 
 panile ; for Giotto's campanile is so light and delicate and 
 reasonable and this tower of the Signoria so stern and 
 noble. There is a difference as between a beautiful woman 
 and a powerful man. In the functions of the two towers 
 the dominating towers of Florence is a wide difference 
 also, for the campanile calls to prayer, while for years the 
 sombre notes of the great Signoria bell the Vacca rang 
 out only to bid the citizens to conclave or battle or to 
 sound an alarm. 
 
 It was this Vacca which (with others) the brave Piero 
 Capponi threatened to ring when Charles VIII wished, in 
 1494, to force a disgraceful treaty on the city. The scene 
 was the Medici Palace in the Via Larga. The paper was 
 ready for signature and Capponi would not sign. "Then I 
 must bid my trumpets blow," said Charles. "If you sound 
 your trumpets," Capponi replied, "we will ring our bells ; " 
 and the King gave way, for he knew that his men had no 
 chance in this city if it rose suddenly against them. 
 
 But the glory of the Palazzo Vecchio tower after its 
 proportions is that brilliant inspiration of the architect
 
 98 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 which led him, so to speak, to begin again by setting the 
 four columns on the top of the solid portion. These 
 pillars are indescribably right : so solid and yet so light, 
 so powerful and yet so comely. Their duty was to sup- 
 port the bells, and particularly the Vacca, when he rocked 
 his gigantic weight of green bronze to and fro to warn the 
 city. Seen from a distance the columns are always beauti- 
 ful ; seen close by they are each a tower of comfortable 
 strength. And how the wind blows through them from 
 the Apennines ! 
 
 The David on the left of the Palazzo Vecchio main door 
 is only a copy. The original stood there until 1873, when, 
 after three hundred and sixty-nine years, it was moved to 
 a covered spot in the Accademia, as we shall there see and 
 learn its history. If we want to know what the Palazzo 
 Vecchio looked like at the time David was placed there, 
 a picture by Piero di Cosimo in our National Gallery 
 tells us, for he makes it the background of his portrait 
 of Ferrucci, No. 895. 
 
 The group on the right represents Hercules and Cacus, 1 
 and is by Baccio Bandinelli (1485-1560), a coarse and 
 offensive man, jealous of most people and particularly of 
 Michelangelo, to whom, but for his displeasing Pope 
 Clement VII, the block of marble from which the Hercules 
 was carved would have been given. Bandinelli in his 
 delight at obtaining it vowed to surpass that master's 
 David, and those who want to know what Florence thought 
 of his effort should consult the amusing and malicious 
 pages of Cellini's Autobiography. On its way to Bandi- 
 
 1 Cacus, the son of Vulcan and Medusa, was a famous robber who 
 breathed fire and smoke and laid waste Italy. He made the mistake, 
 however, of robbing Hercules of some cows, and for this Hercules 
 strangled him.
 
 THE MARZOCCO 99 
 
 nelli's studio the block fell into the Arno, and it was a 
 joke of the time that it had drowned itself to avoid its fate 
 at the sculptor's hands. Even after he had half done it, 
 there was a moment when Michelangelo had an opportu- 
 nity of taking over the stone and turning it into a Sam- 
 son, but the siege of Florence intervened, and eventually 
 Bandinelli had his way and the hideous thing now on view 
 was evolved. 
 
 The lion at the left end of the facade is also a copy, 
 the original by Donatello being in the Bargello, close by ; 
 but the pedestal is Donatello's original. This lion is 
 the Marzocco, the legendary guardian of the Florentine 
 republic, and it stood here for four centuries and more, 
 superseding one which was kissed as a sign of submission 
 by thousands of Pisan prisoners in 1364. The Florentine 
 fleur-de-lis on the pediment is very beautiful. The same 
 lion may be seen in iron on his staff at the top of the 
 Palazzo Vecchio tower, and again on the Bargello, bravely 
 flourishing his lily against the sky. 
 
 The great fountain with its bronze figures at this corner 
 is by Bartolommeo Ammanati, a pupil of Bandinelli, and 
 the statue of Cosimo I is by Gian Bologna, who was the best 
 of the post-Michelangelo sculptors and did much good work 
 in Florence, as we shall see at the Bargello and in the 
 Boboli Gardens. He studied under Michelangelo in Rome. 
 Though born a Fleming and called a Florentine, his great 
 fountain at Bologna, which is really a fine thing, has iden- 
 tified his fame with that city. Had not Ammanati's design 
 better pleased Cosimo I, the Bologna fountain would be 
 here, for it was designed for this piazza. Gian's best-known 
 work is the Flying Mercury in the Bargello, which we 
 have seen, on mantelpieces and in shop windows, every- 
 where; but what is considered his masterpiece is over
 
 100 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 there, in the Loggia de' Lanzi, the very beautiful building 
 on the right of the Palazzo, the "Rape of the Sabines," 
 a group which, to me, gives no pleasure. The bronze reliefs 
 under the Cosimo statue this Cosimo being, of course, 
 far other than Cosimo de' Medici, Father of his Country : 
 Cosimo I of Tuscany, who insisted upon a crown and 
 reigned from 1537 to 1575 represents his assumption of 
 rule on the death of Alessandro in 1537 ; his triumphant 
 entry into Siena when he conquered it and absorbed it; 
 and his reception of the rank of Grand Duke. Of Cosimo 
 (whom we met in Chapter V) more will be said when we 
 enter the Palazzo Vecchio. 
 
 Between this statue and the Loggia de' Lanzi is a bronze 
 tablet let into the paving which tells us that it was on this 
 very spot, in 1498, that Savonarola and two of his com- 
 panions were put to death. The ancient palace on the 
 Duomo side of the piazza is attributed in design to 
 Raphael, who, like most of the great artists of his time, 
 was also an architect and was the designer of the Palazzo 
 Pandolfini in the Via San Gallo, No. 74. The Palazzo we 
 are now admiring for its blend of massiveness and beauty 
 is the Uguccione, and anybody who wishes may prob- 
 ably have a whole floor of it to-day for a few shillings a 
 week. The building which completes the piazza on the 
 right of us, with coats of arms on its fagade, is now given 
 to the Board of Agriculture and has been recently restored. 
 It was once a Court of Justice. The great building at the 
 opposite side of the piazza, where the trams start, is a 
 good example of modern Florentine architecture based on 
 the old : the Palazzo Landi, built in 1871 and now chiefly 
 an insurance office. In London we have a more attractive 
 though smaller derivative of the great days of Florentine 
 building, in Standen's wool shop in Jermyn Street.
 
 THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI 
 
 FROM THE UNFINISHED PAINTING BY LEONARDO DA VINCI IN THE UFFIZI
 
 THE LOGGIA DE' LANZI 101 
 
 The Piazza della Signoria has such riches that one is 
 in danger of neglecting some. The Palazzo Vecchio, for 
 example, so overpowers the Loggia de' Lanzi in size as to 
 draw the eye from that perfect structure. One should 
 not allow this to happen; one should let the Palazzo 
 Vecchio's solid nobility wait awhile and concentrate on 
 the beauty of Orcagna's three arches. Coming so freshly 
 from his tabernacle in Or San Michele we are again re- 
 minded of the versatility of the early artists. 
 
 This structure, originally called the Loggia de' Priori or 
 Loggia d'Orcagna, was built in the fourteenth century as 
 an open place for the delivery of proclamations and for 
 other ceremonies, and also as a shelter from the rain, the 
 last being a purpose it still serves. It was here that 
 Savonarola's ordeal by fire would have had place had it not 
 been frustrated. Vasari also gives Orcagna the four sym- 
 bolical figures in the recesses in the spandrels of the arches. 
 The Loggia, which took its new name from the Swiss 
 lancers, or lanzi, that Cosimo I kept there he being a 
 fearful ruler and never comfortable without a bodyguard 
 is now a recognized place of siesta ; and hither many people 
 carry their poste-restante correspondence from the neigh- 
 bouring post office in the Uffizi to read in comfort. A 
 barometer and thermometer are almost the only novelties 
 that a visitor from the sixteenth century would notice. 
 
 The statuary is both old and new ; for here are genuine 
 antiques once in Ferdinand I's Villa Medici at Rome, 
 and such modern masterpieces as Donatello's Judith and 
 Holofernes, Cellini's Perseus, and Gian Bologna's two 
 muscular and restless groups. The best of the antiques 
 is the Woman Mourning, the fourth from the end on the 
 left, which is a superb creation. 
 
 Donatello's Judith, which gives me less pleasure than 
 
 I 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 L.TT-A n ADD AD A rVYI T CrTC T TUP ABV
 
 102 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 any of his work, both in the statue and in the relief, was 
 commissioned for Cosimo de' Medici, who placed it in 
 the courtyard or garden of the Medici palace Judith, 
 like David, by her brave action against a tyrant, being 
 a champion of the Florentine republic. In 1495, after 
 Cosimo's worthless grandson Piero de' Medici had been 
 expelled from Florence and the Medici palace sacked, the 
 statue was moved to the front of the Palazzo Vecchio, where 
 the David now is, and an inscription placed on it describing 
 it as a warning to all enemies of liberty. This position 
 being needed for Michelangelo's David, in 1506, Judith 
 was moved to the Loggia to the place where the Sabine 
 group now is. In 1560 it took up its present position. 
 
 Cellini's Perseus will not quite do, I think, after Dona- 
 tello and Verrocchio; but few bronzes are more famous, 
 and certainly of none has so vivacious and exciting a story 
 been written as Cellini's own, setting forth his disappoint- 
 ments, mortifications, and pride in connexion with this 
 statue. Cellini, whatever one may think of his veracity, 
 is a diverting and valuable writer, and the picture 
 of Cosimo I which he draws for us is probably very 
 near the truth. We see him haughty, familiar, capri- 
 cious, vain, impulsive, clear-sighted, and easily flattered ; 
 intensely pleased to be in a position to command the ser- 
 vices of artists and very unwilling to pay. Cellini was a 
 blend of lackey, child, and genius. He left Francis I in 
 order to serve Cosimo and never ceased to regret the 
 change. The Perseus was his greatest accomplishment, 
 for Cosimo, and the narrative of its casting is terrific and not 
 a little like Dumas. When it was uncovered in its present 
 position all Florence flocked to the Loggia to praise it ; the 
 poets placed commendatory sonnets on the pillars, and the 
 sculptor peacocked up and down in an ecstasy of triumph.
 
 BENVENUTO CELLINI 103 
 
 Then, however, his troubles once more began, for Cosimo had 
 the craft to force Cellini to name the price, and we see Cellini 
 in an agony between desire for enough and fear lest if he 
 named enough he would offend his patron. 
 
 The whole book is a comedy of vanity and jealousy 
 and Florentine vigour, with Courts as a background. It 
 is good to read it; it is good, having read it, to study 
 once again the unfevered resolute features of Donatello's 
 S. George. Cellini himself we may see among the statues 
 under the Uffizi and again in the place of honour (as a 
 goldsmith) in the centre of the Ponte Vecchio. Looking 
 at the Perseus and remembering Donatello, one realizes that 
 what Cellini wanted was character. He had tempera- 
 ment enough but no character. Perseus is superb, com- 
 manding, distinguished, and one doesn't care a fig for it. 
 
 On entering the Palazzo Vecchio We come instantly to 
 one of the most charming things in Florence Verrocchio's 
 fountain which stands in the midst of the courtyard. 
 This adorable work a little bronze Cupid struggling with 
 a spouting dolphin was made for Lorenzo de' Medici's 
 country villa at Careggi and was brought here when the 
 palazzo was refurnished for Francis I, Cosimo I's son and 
 successor, and his bride, Joanna of Austria, in 1565. 
 Nothing could better illustrate the accomplishment and 
 imaginative adaptability of the great craftsmen of the day 
 than the two works of Verrocchio that we have now seen : 
 the Christ and S. Thomas at Or San Michele, in Dona- 
 tello and Michelozzo's niche, and this exquisite fountain 
 splashing water so musically. Notice the rich decorations of 
 the pillars of this courtyard and the rich colour and power 
 of the pillars themselves. The half-obliterated frescoes of 
 Austrian towns on the walls were made to prevent Joanna 
 from being homesick, but were more likely, one would guess,
 
 104 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 to stimulate that malady. In the left corner is the en- 
 trance to the old armoury, now empty, with openings in 
 the walls through which pieces might be discharged at 
 various angles on any advancing host. The groined ceiling 
 could support a pyramid. 
 
 The Palazzo Vecchio's ground floor is a series of thorough- 
 fares in which people are passing continually amid huge 
 pillars and along dark passages; but our way is up the 
 stone steps immediately to the left on leaving the court- 
 yard where Verrocchio's child eternally smiles, for the steps 
 take us to that vast hall designed by Cronaca for Savona- 
 rola's Great Council, which was called into being for the 
 government of Florence after the luckless Piero de' Medici 
 had been banished in 1494. Here much history was made. 
 As to its structure and its architect, Vasari, who later 
 was called in to restore it, has a deal to say, but it is too 
 technical for us. It was built by Simone di Pollaiuolo, 
 who was known as Cronaca (the Chronicler) from his vivid 
 way of telling his adventures. Cronaca (1454-1508), who 
 was a personal friend and devotee of Savonarola, drew up 
 his plan in consultation with Leonardo da Vinci, Michel- 
 angelo (although then so young : only nineteen or twenty), 
 and others. Its peculiarity is that it is one of the largest 
 rooms in existence without pillars. From the foot of the 
 steps to the further wall I make it fifty-eight paces, and 
 thirty wide ; and the proportions strike the eye as perfect. 
 The wall behind the steps is not at right angles with the 
 others and this must be as peculiar as the absence of 
 pillars. 
 
 Once there were to be paintings here by the greatest of 
 all, for masters no less than Leonardo and Michelangelo 
 were commissioned to decorate it, each with a great his- 
 torical painting : a high honour for the youthful Michel-
 
 THE TWO CARTOONS 105 
 
 angelo. The loss of these works is one of the tragedies of 
 art. Leonardo chose for his subject the battle of Anghiari, 
 an incident of 1440 when the Florentines defeated Picci- 
 nino and saved their Republic from the Milanese and 
 Visconti. But both the cartoon and the fresco have gone 
 for ever, and our sense of loss is not diminished by read- 
 ing in Leonardo's Thoughts on Painting his directions 
 for the use of artists who proposed to paint battles: one 
 of the most interesting and exciting pieces of writing in 
 the literature of art. Michelangelo's work, which never 
 reached the wall of the room, as Leonardo's had done, was 
 completed as a cartoon in 1504 to 1506 in his studio in the 
 hospital of the dyers in Sant' Onofrio, which is now the Via 
 Guelfa. The subject was also military : an incident in the 
 long and bitter struggle between Florence and Pisa, when 
 Sir John Hawkwood (then in the pay of the Pisans, before 
 he came over finally to the Florentines) attacked a body 
 of Florentines who were bathing in the river. The scene 
 gave the young artist scope both for his power of delineating 
 a spirited incident and for his drawing of the nude, 
 and those who saw it said of this work that it was finer 
 than anything the painter ever did. While it was in prog- 
 ress all the young artists came to Sant' Onofrio to study 
 it, as they and its creator had before flocked to the Car- 
 mine, where Masaccio's frescoes had for three-quarters of 
 a century been object-lessons to students. 
 
 What became of the cartoon is not definitely known, 
 but Vasari's story is that Bandinelli, the sculptor of the 
 Hercules and Cacus outside the Palazzo, who was one of 
 the most diligent copyists of the cartoon after it was 
 placed in a room in this building, had the key of the door 
 counterfeited, and, obtaining entrance during a moment of 
 tumult, destroyed the picture. The reasons given are : (1,
 
 106 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 and a very poor one) that he desired to own the pieces; 
 (2) that he wished to deprive other and rival students of 
 the advantage of copying it ; (3) that he wanted Leonardo 
 to be the only painter of the Palazzo to be considered; 
 and (4, and sufficient) that he hated Michelangelo. At 
 this time Bandinelli could not have been more than 
 eighteen. Vasari's story is uncorroborated. 
 
 Leonardo's battle merely perished, being done in some 
 fugitive medium ; and the walls are now covered with the 
 works of Vasari himself and his pupils and do not matter, 
 while the ceiling is a muddle of undistinguished paint. 
 There are many statues which also do not matter; but 
 at the raised end is Leo X, son of Lorenzo the Magnifi- 
 cent, and the first Medici Pope, and at the other a colossal 
 modern statue of Savonarola, who was in person the domi- 
 nating influence here for the years between 1494 and 1497; 
 who is to many the central figure in the history of this 
 building ; and whose last night on earth was spent with 
 his companions in this very room. But to him we come 
 in the chapter on S. Marco. 
 
 Many rooms in the Palazzo are to be seen only on 
 special occasions, but the great hall is always accessible. 
 Certain rooms upstairs, mostly with rich red and yellow 
 floors, are also visible daily, all interesting; but most 
 notable is the Salle de Lys, with its lovely blue walls of 
 lilies, its glorious ceiling of gold and roses, Ghirlandaio's 
 fresco of S. Zenobius, and the perfect marble doorway 
 containing the wooden doors of Giuliano and Benedetto 
 da Maiano, with the heads of Dante and Petrarch in in- 
 tarsia. Note the figures of Charity and Temperance in 
 the doorway and the charming youthful Baptist. 
 
 In Eleanor of Toledo's dining-room there are some rich 
 and elaborate green jugs which I remember very clearly,
 
 AN EAVESDROPPER'S COIGN 107 
 
 and also the ceiling of her workroom with its choice of 
 Penelope as the presiding genius. Both Eleanor's chapel 
 and that in which Savonarola prayed before his execu- 
 tion are shown. 
 
 But the most popular room of all with visitors and 
 quite naturally is the little boudoiresque study of 
 Francis I, with its voluptuous ladies on the ceiling and 
 the secret treasure-room leading from it, while on the 
 way, just outside the door, is a convenient oubliette into 
 which to push any inconvenient visitor. 
 
 The loggia, which Mr. Morley has painted from the 
 Via Castellani, is also always accessible, and from it one has 
 one of those pleasant views of warm roofs in which Florence 
 abounds. 
 
 One of the most attractive of the smaller rooms usually on 
 view is that which leads from the lily-room and contains 
 nothing but maps of the world : the most decorative things 
 conceivable, next to Chinese paintings. Looking natu- 
 rally for Sussex on the English map, I found Winchelsey, 
 Battel, Rye, Lewes, Sorham, Ar6nde, and Cicestra. 
 
 From the map-room a little room is gained where the 
 debates in the Great Council Hall might be secretly over- 
 heard by interested eavesdroppers, but in particular by 
 Cosimo I. A part of the cornice has holes in it for this 
 purpose, but on regaining the hall itself I found that the 
 disparity in the pattern was perfectly evident even to my 
 eye, so that every one in those suspicious days must have 
 been aware of the listener. 
 
 The tower should certainly be ascended not only for 
 the view and to be so near the bells and the pillars, but 
 also for historic associations. After a little way we come 
 to the cell where Cosimo de' Medici, later to be the Father 
 of his Country, was imprisoned, before that exile which
 
 108 OR SAN MICHELE AND PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 
 ended in recall and triumph in 1433. This cell, although 
 not exactly " a home from home," is possible. What is to 
 be said of that other, some thousands of steps (as it seems) 
 higher, where Savonarola was kept for forty days, varied 
 only by intervals of torture ? For Savonarola's cell, which 
 is very near the top, is nothing but a recess in the wall 
 with a door to it. It cannot be more than five feet wide 
 and eight feet long, with an open loophole to the wind. 
 If a man were here for forty days and then pardoned his 
 life would be worth very little. A bitter eyrie from which 
 to watch the city one had risked all to reform. What 
 thoughts must have been his in that trap ! What reviews 
 of policy ! What illuminations as to Florentine character !
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE DFFIZI I : THE BUILDING AND THE COLLECTORS 
 
 The growth of a gallery Vasari's Passaggio Cosimo I Francis I 
 
 Ferdinand I Ferdinand II Cosimo III Anna Maria Ludovica 
 de' Medici Pietro-Leopoldo The statues of the fagade Art, litera- 
 ture, arms, science, and learning The omissions Florentine rapacity 
 
 An antique custom Window views The Uffizi drawings The 
 
 best picture. 
 
 foreigner should understand at once that any 
 -*- inquiries into the history of the Uffizi family such 
 as for example yield interesting results in the case of the 
 Pazzi and the Albizzi are doomed to failure ; because 
 Uffizi merely means offices. The Palazzo degli Uffizi, or 
 palace of offices, was built by Vasari, the biographer 
 of the artists, for Cosimo I, who having taken the 
 Signoria, or Palazzo Vecchio, for his own home, wished to 
 provide another building for the municipal government. 
 It was begun in 1560 and still so far fulfils its original pur- 
 pose as to contain the general post office, while it also houses 
 certain Tuscan archives and the national library. 
 
 A glance at Piero di Cosimo's portrait of Ferrucci in 
 our National Gallery will show that an ordinary Florentine 
 street preceded the erection of the Uffizi. At that time 
 the top storey of the building, as it now exists, was an 
 open terrace affording a pleasant promenade from the 
 Palazzo Vecchio down to the river and back to the Loggia 
 de' Lanzi. Beneath this were studios and workrooms 
 
 109
 
 110 THE UFFIZI I: BUILDING AND COLLECTORS 
 
 where Cosimo's army of artists and craftsmen (with Bron- 
 zino and Cellini as the most famous) were kept busy ; while 
 the public offices were on the ground floor. Then, as his 
 family increased, Cosimo decided to move, and the incom- 
 plete and abandoned Pitti Palace was bought and finished. 
 In 1565, as we have seen, Francis, Cosimo's son, married and 
 was installed in the Palazzo Vecchio, and it was then that 
 Vasari was called upon to construct the Passaggio which 
 unites the Palazzo Vecchio and the Pitti, crossing the 
 river by the Ponte Vecchio Cosimo's idea (borrowed 
 it is said from Homer's description of the passage uniting 
 the palaces of Priam and Hector), being not only that he 
 and his son might have access to each other, but that in 
 the event of danger on the other side of the river a body 
 of soldiers could be swiftly and secretly mobilized there. 
 Cosimo I died in 1574, and Francis I (1574-1587) suc- 
 ceeded him not only in rule but in that patronage of the 
 arts which was one of the finest Medicean traditions; 
 and it was he who first thought of making the Uffizi a 
 picture gallery. To do this was simple : it merely meant 
 the loss of part of the terrace by walling and roofing it in. 
 Ferdinand I (1587-1609) added the pretty Tribuna and 
 other rooms, and brought hither a number of the treasures 
 from the Villa Medici at Rome. Cosimo II (1609- 1621) did 
 little, but Ferdinand II (1621-1670) completed the roofing 
 in of t^e terraces, placed there his own collection of draw- 
 ings and a valuable collection of Venetian pictures which 
 he had bought, together with those that his wife Vittoria 
 della Rovere had brought him from Urbino, while his 
 brothers, Cardinal Giovanni Carlo de' Medici and Cardinal 
 Leopoldo de' Medici (the extremely ugly man with the 
 curling chin, at the head of the Uffizi stairs,) added theirs. 
 Giovanni Carlo's pictures, which mostly went to the Pitti,
 
 MADONNA AND CHILD 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY LUCA SIGNORELLI IN THE OTFIZI
 
 MUNIFICENT MEDICI 111 
 
 were varied ; but Leopold's were chiefly portraits of artists, 
 wherever possible painted by themselves, a collection which 
 is steadily being added to at the present time and is to 
 be seen in several rooms of the Uffizi, and those minia- 
 ture portraits of men of eminence which we shall see in 
 the corridor between the Poccetti Gallery and Salon of 
 Justice at the Pitti. Cosimo III (1670-1723) added the 
 Dutch pictures and the famous Venus de' Medici and 
 other Tribuna statuary. 
 
 The galleries remained the private property of the 
 Medici family until the Electress Palatine, Anna Maria 
 Ludovica de' Medici, daughter of Cosimo III and great 
 niece of the Cardinal Leopold, bequeathed all these treas- 
 ures, to which she had greatly added, together with 
 bronzes now in the Bargello, Etruscan antiquities now in 
 the Archaeological Museum, tapestries also there, and 
 books in the Laurentian library, to Florence for ever, 
 on condition that they should never be removed from 
 Florence and should exist for the benefit of the public. Her 
 death was in 1743, and with her passed away the last de- 
 scendant of that Giovanni de' Medici (1360-1429) whom we 
 saw giving commissions to Donatello, building the chil- 
 dren's hospital, and helping Florence to the best of his 
 power : so that the first Medici and the last were akin in 
 love of art and in generosity to their beautiful city. 
 
 The new Austrian Grand Dukes continued to add to 
 the Uffizi, particularly Pietro-Leopoldo (1765-1790), who 
 also founded the Accademia. To him was due the as- 
 sembling, under the Uffizi roof, of all the outlying pictures 
 then belonging to the state, including those in the gallery 
 of the hospital of S. Maria Nuova, which owned, among 
 others, the famous Hugo van der Goes. It was he also 
 who brought together from Rome the Niobe statues and
 
 112 THE UFFIZI I: BUILDING AND COLLECTORS 
 
 constructed a room for them. Leopold II added the 
 Iscrizioni. 
 
 It was as recently as 1842 to 1856 that the statues of the 
 great Florentines were placed in the portico. These, be- 
 ginning at the Palazzo Vecchio, are, first, against the in- 
 ner wall, Cosimo Pater (1389-1464) and Lorenzo the Mag- 
 nificent (1450-1492) ; then, outside : Orcagna ; Andrea 
 Pisano, of the first Baptistery doors ; Giotto and Donatello; 
 Alberti, who could do everything and who designed the 
 facade of S. Maria Novella ; Leonardo and Michelangelo. 
 Next, three poets, Dante (1265-1321), Francesco Petrarca 
 (1304-1374), and Giovanni Boccaccio (1313-1375). Then 
 Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527), the statesman, and 
 Francesco Guicciardini (1482-1540), the historian. That 
 completes the first side. 
 
 At the end are Amerigo Vespucci (1451-1516), the ex- 
 plorer, who gave his name to America, and Galileo Galilei 
 (1564-1642), the astronomer; and above is Cosimo I, the 
 first Grand Duke. 
 
 On the Uffizi's river fagade are four figures only and 
 hundreds of swallows' nests. The figures are Francesco 
 Ferrucci, who died in 1530, the general painted by Piero di 
 Cosimo in our National Gallery, who recaptured Volterra 
 from Pope Clement VII in 1529; Giovanni delle Bande 
 Nere (1500-1527), father of Cosimo I, and a great fighting 
 man; Piero Capponi, who died in 1496, and delivered 
 Florence from Charles VIII in 1494, by threatening to 
 ring the city bells ; and Farinata degli Uberti, an earlier 
 soldier, who died in 1264 and is in the "Divina Commedia" 
 as a hero. It was he who repulsed the Ghibelline sugges- 
 tion that Florence should be destroyed and the inhabitants 
 emigrate to Empoli. 
 
 Working back towards the Loggia de' Lanzi we find
 
 GALLERY EXACTIONS 113 
 
 less-known names : Pietro Antonio Michele (1679-1737), 
 the botanist ; Francesco Redi (1626-1697), a poet and a 
 man of science ; Paolo Mascagni (1732-1815) , the anato- 
 mist ; Andrea Cesalpino (1519-1603), the philosopher; S. 
 Antonios (died 1461), Prior of the Convent of S. Marco and 
 Archbishop of Florence ; Francesco Accorso (1182-1229), 
 the jurist ; Guido Aretino (eleventh century), musician ; and 
 Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1572), the goldsmith and sculptor. 
 The most notable omissions are Arnolfo and Brunelleschi, 
 (but these are, as we have seen, on the fagade of the 
 Palazzo de' Canonici, opposite the south side of the cathe- 
 dral) , Ghiberti, Fra Angelico, and Savonarola. Personally I 
 should like to have still others here, among them Giorgio 
 Vasari, in recognition of his enthusiastic and entertaining 
 biographies of the Florentine artists, to say nothing of the 
 circumstance that he designed this building. 
 
 Before we enter any Florentine gallery let me say that 
 there is only one free day and that the crowded Sabbath. 
 Admittance to nearly all is a lira. Moreover, there is no 
 re-admission. The charge strikes English visitors, accus- 
 tomed to the open portals of their own museums and 
 galleries, as an outrage, and it explains also the little 
 interest in their treasures which most Florentines display, 
 for being essentially a frugal people they have seldom seen 
 them. Visitors who can satisfy the authorities that they 
 are desirous of studying the works of art with a serious 
 purpose can obtain free passes ; but only after certain pre- 
 liminaries, which include a seance with a photographer 
 to satisfy the doorkeeper, by comparing the real and 
 counterfeit physiognomies, that no illicit transference 
 of the precious privilege has been made. Italy is, one 
 knows, not a rich country ; but the revenue which the 
 gallery entrance-fees represent cannot reach any great
 
 114 THE UFFIZI I: BUILDING AND COLLECTORS 
 
 volume, and such as it is it had much better, I should say, 
 be raised by other means. Meanwhile, the foreigner chiefly 
 pays it. What Giovanni de' Medici and Lorenzo de' 
 Medici, and even more what Anna Maria Ludovica 
 de' Medici, who bequeathed to the State these possessions, 
 would think could they see this feverish and implacable 
 pursuit of pence, I have not imagination, or scorn, enough 
 to set down. 
 
 Infirm and languid visitors should get it clearly into their 
 heads (1) that the tour of the Uffizi means a long walk and 
 (2) that there is a lift. You find it in the umbrella room 
 at every Florentine gallery and museum is an official 
 whose one object in life is to take away your umbrella 
 and it costs twopence-halfpenny and is worth far more. 
 But walking downstairs is imperative, because otherwise 
 one would miss Silenus and Bacchus, and a beautiful ur- 
 gent Mars, in bronze, together with other fine sculptured 
 things. 
 
 One of the quaintest symbols of conservatism in Florence 
 is the scissors of the officials who supply tickets of entrance. 
 Apparently the perforated line is unknown in Italy ; hence 
 the ticket is divided from its counterfoil (which I assume 
 goes to the authorities in order that they may check their 
 horrid takings) by a huge pair of shears. These things 
 are snip-snapping all over Italy, all day long. Having ob- 
 tained your ticket you hand it to another official at a turn- 
 stile, and at last you are free of cupidity and red tape and 
 may breathe easily again and examine the products of the 
 light-hearted generous Renaissance in the right spirit. 
 
 One should never forget, in any gallery of Florence, to 
 look out of the windows. There is always a courtyard, a 
 street, or a spire against the sky ; and at the Uffizi there 
 are the river and bridges and mountains. From the loggia
 
 THE PASSAGGIO 115 
 
 of the Palazzo Vecchio I once saw a woman with some 
 twenty or thirty city pigeons on the table of her little 
 room, feeding them with maize. 
 
 Except for glimpses of the river and the Via Guicciardini 
 which it gives, I advise no one to walk through the passage 
 uniting the Pitti and the Uffizi unless of course bent on 
 catching some of the ancient thrill when armed men ran 
 swiftly from one palace to the other to quell a disturbance or 
 repulse an assault. Particularly does this counsel apply to 
 wet days, when all the windows are closed and there is no 
 air. A certain interest attaches to the myriad portraits 
 which line the walls, chiefly of the Medici and comparatively 
 recent worthies ; but one must have a glutton's passion 
 either for paint or history to wish to examine these. As a 
 matter of fact, only a lightning-speed tourist could possibly 
 think of seeing both the Uffizi and the Pitti on the same 
 day, and therefore the need of the passage disappears. It 
 is hard worked only on Sundays. 
 
 The drawings in the cases in the first long corridor are 
 worth close study covering as they do the whole range 
 of great Italian art: from, say, Uccello to Carlo Dolci. 
 But as they are from time to time changed it is useless to 
 say more of them. There is also on the first landing of the 
 staircase a room in which exhibitions of drawings of the 
 Old Masters are held, and this is worth knowing about, 
 n,ot only because of the riches of the portfolios in the 
 collection, but also because once you have passed the doors 
 you are inside the only picture gallery in Florence for 
 which no entrance fee is asked. How the authorities have 
 come to overlook this additional source of revenue, I have 
 no notion ; but they have, and visitors should hasten to 
 make the most of it for fear that a translation of these 
 words of mine may wander into bad hands.
 
 116 THE UFFIZI I: BUILDING AND COLLECTORS 
 
 To name the most wonderful picture in the Uffizi would 
 be a very difficult task. At the Accademia, if a plebiscite 
 were taken, there is little doubt but that Botticelli's 
 "Primavera" would win. At the Pitti I personally would 
 name Giorgio ne's " Concert " without any hesitation at 
 all ; but probably the public vote would go to Raphael's 
 " Madonna della Sedia." But the Uffizi ? Here we are 
 amid such wealth of masterpieces, and yet when one 
 comes to pass them in review in memory none stands out 
 as those other two I have named. Perhaps Botticelli 
 would win again, with his "Birth of Venus." Were the 
 Leonardo finished . . . but it is only a sketch. Luca 
 Signorelli's wild flowers in No. 74 seem to abide with me 
 as vividly and graciously as anything ; but they are but 
 a detail and it is a very personal predilection. Perhaps 
 the great exotic work painted far away in Belgium the 
 Van der Goes triptych is the most memorable ; but to 
 choose an alien canvas is to break the rules of the game. 
 Is it perhaps the unfinished Leonardo after all ? If not, 
 and not the Botticelli, it is beyond question that lovely 
 adoring Madonna, so gentle and sweet, against the purest 
 and bluest of Tuscan skies, which is attributed to Filippino 
 Lippi : No. 1354.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX BOOMS 
 
 Lorenzo Monaco Fra Angelico Mariotto Albertinelli turns inn- 
 keeper The Venetian rooms Giorgione's death Titian Man- 
 tegna uniting north and south Giovanni Bellini Domenico 
 Ghirlandaio Michelangelo Luca Signorelli Wild flowers Leo- 
 nardo da Vinci Paolo Uccello. 
 
 THE first and second rooms are Venetian; but I am 
 inclined to think that it is better to take the second 
 door on the left the first Tuscan salon and walking 
 straight across it come at once to the Salon of Lorenzo 
 Monaco and the primitives. For the earliest good pictures 
 are here. Here especially one should remember that the 
 pictures were painted never for a gallery but for churches. 
 Lorenzo Monaco (Lawrence the Monk, 1370-c. 1425), who 
 gives his name to this room, was a monk of the Camal- 
 dolese order in the Monastery of the Angeli, and was 
 a little earlier than Fra Angelico (the Angelic Brother), 
 the more famous painting monk, whose dates are 1387-1455. 
 Lorenzo was influenced by Taddeo Gaddi, Giotto's godson, 
 friend, pupil, and assistant. His greatest work is this 
 large Uffizi altar-piece he painted nothing but altar- 
 pieces depicting the Coronation of the Virgin : a great 
 gay scene of splendour, containing pretty angels who 
 must have been the delight of children in church. The 
 predella and here let me advise the visitor never to 
 overlook the predellas, where the artist often throws off 
 
 117
 
 118 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX ROOMS 
 
 formality and allows his more natural feelings to have 
 play, almost as though he painted the picture for others 
 and the predella for himself is peculiarly interesting. 
 Look, at the left, at the death of an old Saint attended 
 by monks and nuns, whose grief is profound. One other 
 good Lorenzo is here, an "Adoration of the Magi," No. 39, 
 a little out of drawing but full of life. 
 
 But for most people the glory of the room is not 
 Lorenzo the Monk, but Brother Giovanni of Fiesole, 
 known evermore as Beato, or Fra, Angelico. Of that most 
 adoring and most adorable of painters I say much in the 
 chapter on the Accademia, where he is very fully repre- 
 sented, and it might perhaps be well to turn to those pages 
 (227-230) and read here, on our first sight of his genius, 
 what is said. Two Angelicos are in this room the great 
 triptych, opposite the chief Lorenzo, and the "Crowning 
 of the Virgin," on an easel. The triptych is as much 
 copied as any picture in the gallery, not, however, for its 
 principal figures, but for the border of twelve angels round 
 the centre panel. Angelico's benignancy and sweetness 
 are here, but it is not the equal of the "Coronation," 
 which is a blaze of pious fervour and glory. The group 
 of saints on the right is very charming ; but we are to be 
 more pleased by this radiant hand when we reach the 
 Accademia. Already, however, we have learned his love 
 of blue. Another altar-piece with a subtle quality of 
 its own is the early Annunciation by Simone Martini 
 of Siena (1285-1344) and Lippo Memmi, his brother (d. 
 1357), in which the angel speaks his golden words across 
 the picture through a vase of lilies, and the Virgin receives 
 them shrinkingly. It is all very primitive, but it has great 
 attraction, and it is interesting to think that the picture 
 must be getting on for six hundred years of age. This
 
 THE LOGGIA OF THE PALAZZO VECCHIO AND THE VIA DE' LEON I

 
 ALBERTINELLI IN REVOLT 119 
 
 Simone was a pupil of Giotto and the painter of a portrait 
 of Petrarch's Laura, now preserved in the Lauren tian 
 library, which earned him two sonnets of eulogy. It is 
 also two Sienese painters who have made the gayest 
 thing in this room, the predella, No. 1304, by Neroccio di 
 Siena (1447-1500) and Francesco di Giorgio di Siena 
 (1439-1502), containing scenes in the life of S. Benedetto. 
 Neroccio did the landscape and figures; the other the 
 architecture, and very fine it is. Another delightful 
 predella is that by Benozzo Gozzoli (1420-1498), Fra 
 Angelico's pupil, whom we have seen at the Riccardi 
 palace. Gozzoli's predella is No. 1302. Finally, look at 
 No. 64, which shows how prettily certain imitators of Fra 
 Angelico could paint. 
 
 After the Sala di Lorenzo Monaco let us enter the first 
 Tuscan room. The draughtsmanship of the great Last 
 Judgment fresco by Fra Bartolommeo (1475-1517) and 
 Mariotto Albertinelli (1474-1515) is very fine. It is now 
 a ruin, but enough remains to show that it must have 
 been impressive. These collaborators, although intimate 
 friends, ultimately went different ways, for Fra Bartolom- 
 meo came under the influence of Savonarola, burned his 
 nude drawings, and entered the Convent of S. Marco ; where- 
 as Albertinelli, who was a convivial follower of Venus, tiring 
 of art and even more of art jargon, took an inn outside the 
 S. Gallo gate and a tavern on the Ponte Vecchio, remark- 
 ing that he had found a way of life that needed no 
 knowledge of muscles, foreshortening, or perspective, and 
 better still, was without critics. Among his pupils was 
 Franciabigio, whose lovely Madonna of the Well we are 
 coming to in the Tribuna. 
 
 Chief among the other pictures are two by the delight- 
 ful Alessio Baldovinetti, the master of Domenico Ghir-
 
 120 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX ROOMS 
 
 landaio, Nos. 60 and 56 ; and a large early altar-piece by the 
 brothers Orcagna, painted in 1367 for S. Maria Nuova, now 
 the principal hospital of Florence and once the home of 
 many beautiful pictures. This work is rather dingy now, 
 but it is interesting as coming in part from the hand that 
 designed the tabernacle in Or San Michele and the Loggia 
 de' Lanzi. Another less-known painter represented here is 
 Francesco Granacci (1469-1543), the author of Nos. 1541 
 and 1280, both rich and warm and pleasing. Granacci was 
 a fellow-pupil of Michelangelo both in Lorenzo de' Medici's 
 garden and in Ghirlandaio's workshop, and the bosom friend 
 of that great man all his life. Like Piero di Cosimo, 
 Granacci was a great hand at pageantry, and Lorenzo de' 
 Medici kept him busy. He was not dependent upon art 
 for his living, but painted for love of it, and Vasari makes 
 him a very agreeable man. 
 
 Here too is Gio. Antonio Sogliani (1492-1544), also a 
 rare painter, with a finely coloured and finely drawn "Dis- 
 puta," No. 63. This painter seems to have had the same 
 devotion to his master, Lorenzo di Credi, that di Credi 
 bad for his master, Verrocchio. Vasari calls Sogliani a 
 worthy religious man who minded his own affairs a good 
 epitaph. His work is rarely met with in Florence, but he 
 has a large fresco at S. Marco. Lorenzo di Credi (1459- 
 1537) himself has two pretty circular paintings here, of 
 which No. 1528 is particularly sweet: "The Virgin and 
 Child with St. John and Angels," all comfortable and happy 
 in a Tuscan meadow ; while on an easel is another circular 
 picture, by Pacchiarotto (1477-1535). This has good 
 colour and twilight beauty, but it does not touch one and 
 is not too felicitously composed. Over the door to the 
 Venetian room is a Cosimo Rosselli with a prettily affec- 
 tionate Madonna and Child.
 
 GLORIOUS GIORGIONE 121 
 
 From this miscellaneous Tuscan room we pass to the 
 two rooms which contain the Venetian pictures, of which I 
 shall say less than might perhaps be expected, not because 
 I do not intensely admire them but because I feel that the 
 chief space in a Florentine book should be given to Floren- 
 tine or Tuscan things. As a matter of fact, I find myself 
 when in the Uffizi continually drawn to revisit these walls. 
 The chief treasures are the Titians, the Giorgiones, the 
 Mantegnas, the Carpaccio, and the Bellini allegory. These 
 alone would make the Uffizi a Mecca of connoisseurs. Gior- 
 gione is to be found in his richest perfection at the Pitti, 
 in his one unforgettable work that is preserved there, but 
 here he is wonderful too, with his Cavalier of Malta, black 
 and golden, and the two rich scenes, Nos. 621 and 630, 
 nominally from Scripture, but really from romantic Italy. 
 To me these three pictures are the jewels of the Venetian 
 collection. To describe them is impossible : enough to 
 say that some glowing genius produced them ; and what- 
 ever the experts admit, personally I prefer to consider that 
 genius Giorgione. Giorgione, who was born in 1477 and 
 died young at thirty-three was, like Titian, the pupil 
 of Bellini, but was greatly influenced by Leonardo da Vinci. 
 Later he became Titian's master. He was passionately de- 
 voted to music and to ladies, and it was indeed from a lady 
 that he had his early death, for he continued to kiss her 
 after she had taken the plague. (No bad way to die, 
 either; for to be in the power of an emotion that sways 
 one to such foolishness is surely better than to live the 
 lukewarm calculating lives of most of us.) Giorgione's claim 
 to distinction is that not only was he a glorious colourist 
 and master of light and shade, but may be said to have 
 invented small genre pictures that could be carried about 
 and hung in this or that room at pleasure such pictures
 
 122 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX ROOMS 
 
 as many of the best Dutch painters were to bend their 
 genius to almost exclusively his favourite subjects being 
 music parties and picnics. These Moses and Solomon 
 pictures in the Uffizi are of course only a pretext for glori- 
 ously coloured arrangements of people with rich scenic 
 backgrounds. No. 621 is the finer. The way in which 
 the baby is being held in the other indicates how little 
 Giorgione thought of verisimilitude. The colour was the 
 thing. 
 
 After the Giorgiones the Titians, chief of which is 
 No. 633, "The Madonna and Child with S. John and S. 
 Anthony," sometimes called the "Madonna of the Roses," 
 a work which throws a pallor over all Tuscan pictures; 
 No. 626, the golden Flora, who glows more gloriously 
 every moment (whom we shall see again, at the Pitti, 
 as the Magdalen) ; the Duke and Duchess of Urbino, 
 Nos. 605 and 599, the Duchess set at a window with what 
 looks so curiously like a deep blue Surrey landscape through 
 it and a village spire in the midst ; and 618, an unfinished 
 Madonna and Child in which the Master's methods can be 
 followed. The Child, completed save for the final bath 
 of light, is a miracle of draughtsmanship. 
 
 The triptych by Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506) is of 
 inexhaustible interest, for here, as ever, Mantegna is full of 
 thought and purpose. The left panel represents the As- 
 cension, Christ being borne upwards by eleven cherubim 
 in a solid cloud ; the right panel by far the best, I think 
 shows the Circumcision, where the painter has set him- 
 self various difficulties of architecture and goldsmith's work 
 for the pleasure of overcoming them, every detail being 
 painted with Dutch minuteness and yet leaving the picture 
 big ; while the middle panel, which is concave, depicts an 
 Adoration of the Magi that will bear much study. The
 
 w g
 
 BELLINI'S ALLEGORY 123 
 
 whole effect is very northern : not much less so than our 
 own new National Gallery Mabuse. Mantegna also has a 
 charming Madonna and Child, No. 1025, with pleasing 
 pastoral and stone-quarrying activities in the distance. 
 
 On the right of the triptych is the so-called Carpaccio 
 (1450-1519), a confused but glorious melee of youths and 
 halberds, reds and yellows and browns, very modern and 
 splendid and totally unlike anything else in the whole 
 gallery. Uccello may possibly be recalled, but only for 
 subject. Finally there is Giovanni Bellini (1426-1516), 
 master of Titian and Giorgione, with his " Sacra Conversa- 
 zione," No. 631, which means I know not what but has a 
 haunting quality. Later we shall see a picture by Michel- 
 angelo which has been accused of blending Christianity 
 and paganism ; but Bellini's sole purpose was to do this. 
 We have children from a Bacchic vase and the crowned 
 Virgin; two naked saints and a Venetian lady; and a 
 centaur watching a hermit. The foreground is a mosaic 
 terrace; the background is rocks and water. It is all 
 bizarre and very curious and memorable and quite unique. 
 For the rest, I should mention two charming Guardis ; a rich 
 little Canaletto ; a nice scene of sheep by Jacopo Bassano ; 
 the portrait of an unknown young man by an unknown 
 painter, No. 1157; and Tintoretto's daring "Abraham and 
 Isaac." 
 
 The other Venetian room is almost wholly devoted to 
 portraits, chief among them being a red-headed Tintoretto 
 burning furiously, No. 613, and Titian's sly and sinister 
 Caterina Cornaro in her gorgeous dress, No. 648 ; Piombo's 
 "L'Uomo Ammalato" ; Tintoretto's Jacopo Sansovino, the 
 sculptor, the grave old man holding his calipers who made 
 that wonderful Greek Bacchus at the Bargello ; Schiavone's 
 ripe, bearded "Ignoto," No. 649, and, perhaps above all,
 
 124 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX ROOMS 
 
 the Moroni, No. 386, black against grey. There is also 
 Paolo Veronese's " Holy Family with S. Catherine," 
 superbly masterly and golden but suggesting the Rialto 
 rather than Nazareth. 
 
 One picture gives the next room, the Sala di Michelan- 
 gelo, its name ; but entering from the Venetian room we 
 come first on the right to a very well-known Lippo Lippi, 
 copied in every picture shop in Florence : No. 1307, a 
 Madonna and two Children. Few pictures are so beset 
 by delighted observers, but apart from the perfection of 
 it as an early painting, leaving nothing to later dexterity, 
 its appeal to me is weak. The Madonna (whose head-dress, 
 as so often in Lippo Lippi, foreshadows Botticelli) and 
 the landscape equally delight ; the children almost repel, 
 and the decorative furniture in the corner quite repels. 
 The picture is interesting also for its colour, which is unlike 
 anything else in the gallery, the green of the Madonna's 
 dress being especially lovely and distinguished, and vul- 
 garizing the Ghirlandaio No. 1297 which hangs next. 
 This picture is far too hot throughout, and would indeed 
 be almost displeasing but for the irradiation of the Virgin's 
 face. The other Ghirlandaio No. 1295 in this room is 
 far finer and sweeter; but at the Accademia and the 
 Badia we are to see him at his best in this class of work. 
 None the less, No. 1295 is a charming thing, and the 
 little Mother and her happy Child, whose big toe is 
 being so reverently adored by the ancient mage, are 
 very near real simple life. This artist, we shall see, 
 always paints healthy, honest babies. The seaport in the 
 distance is charming too. 
 
 Ghirlandaio's place in this room is interesting on account 
 of his relation to Michelangelo as first instructor; but 
 by the time that the great master's "Holy Family,"
 
 MICHELANGELO 125 
 
 hanging here, was painted all traces of Ghirlandaio's influ- 
 ence had disappeared, and if any forerunner is noticeable 
 it is Luca Signorelli . But we must first glance at the pretty 
 little Lorenzo di Credi, No. 1160, the Annunciation, an 
 artificial work full of nice thoughts and touches, with 
 the prettiest little blue Virgin imaginable, a heavenly 
 landscape, and a predella in monochrome, in one scene of 
 which Eve rises from the side of the sleeping Adam with 
 extraordinary realism. The announcing Gabriel is deferen- 
 tial but positive ; Mary is questioning but not wholly sur- 
 prised. In any collection of Annunciations this picture 
 would find a prominent place. 
 
 The "Holy Family" of Michelangelo No. 1139 is re- 
 markable for more than one reason. It is, to begin with, the 
 only finished easel picture that exists from his brush. It is 
 also his one work in oils, for he afterwards despised that 
 medium as being fit "only for children." The frame is 
 contemporary and was made for it, the whole being com- 
 missioned by Angelo Doni, a wealthy connoisseur whose 
 portrait by Raphael we shall see in the Pitti, and who, 
 according to Vasari, did his best to get it cheaper than his 
 bargain, and had in the end to pay dearer. The period of 
 the picture is about 1503, while the great David was in 
 progress, when the painter was twenty-eight. That it is 
 masterly and superb there can be no doubt, but, like so much 
 of Michelangelo's work, it suffers from its author's great- 
 ness. There is an austerity of power here that ill consorts 
 with the tender domesticity of the scene, and the Child is 
 a young Hercules. The nude figures in the background 
 introduce an alien element and suggest the conflict between 
 Christianity and paganism, the new religion and the old : 
 in short, the Twilight of the Gods. Whether Michelangelo 
 intended this we shall not know; but there it is. The
 
 126 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX ROOMS 
 
 prevailing impression left by the picture is immense power 
 and virtuosity and no religion. In the beautiful Luca 
 Signorelli No. 74 next it, we find at once a curious 
 similarity and difference. The Madonna and Child only 
 are in the foreground, a not too radiant but very tender 
 couple ; in the background are male figures nearly nude : 
 not quite, as Michelangelo made them, and suggesting no 
 discord, as in his picture. Luca was born in 1441, and was 
 thus thirty-four years older than Michelangelo. This 
 picture is perhaps that one presented by Luca to Lorenzo 
 de* Medici, of which Vasari tells, and if so it was probably 
 on a wall in the Medici palace when Michelangelo as a 
 boy was taught with Lorenzo's sons. Luca's sweetness 
 was alien to Michelangelo, but not his melancholy or his 
 sense of composition ; while Luca's devotion to the human 
 form as the unit of expression was in Michelangelo carried 
 out to its highest power. Vasari, who was a relative of 
 Luca's and a pupil of Michelangelo's, says that his master 
 had the greatest admiration for Luca's genius. 
 
 Luca Signorelli was born at Cortona, and was instructed 
 by Piero della Francesca, whose one Uffizi painting is in a 
 later room. His chief work is at Cortona, at Rome (in 
 the Sixtine Chapel), and at Orvieto. His fame was suffi- 
 cient in Florence in 1491 for him to be made one of the 
 judges of the designs for the facade of the Duomo. Luca 
 lived to a great age, not dying till 1524, and was much 
 beloved. He was magnificent in his habits and loved fine 
 clothes, was very kindly and helpful in disposition, and 
 the influence of his naturalness and sincerity upon art 
 was great. One very pretty sad story is told of him, to 
 the effect that when his son, whom he had dearly loved, was 
 killed at Cortona, he caused the body to be stripped, and 
 painted it with the utmost exactitude, that through his
 
 LUCA SIGNORELLI 127 
 
 own handiwork he might be able to contemplate that 
 treasure of which fate had robbed him. Perhaps the most 
 beautiful or at any rate the most idiosyncratic thing in 
 the picture before us is its lovely profusion of wayside 
 flowers. These come out but poorly in the photograph, 
 but in the painting they are exquisite both in form and in 
 detail. Luca painted them as if he loved them. (There is 
 a hint of the same thoughtful care in the flowers in No. 1 133, 
 by Luca, in our National Gallery ; but these at Florence 
 are the best.) No. 74 is in tempera : the next, also by 
 Luca, No. 1291, is in oil, a "Holy Family," a work at 
 once powerful, rich, and sweet. Here, again, we may trace 
 an influence on Michelangelo, for the child is shown dep- 
 recating a book which his mother is displaying, while in 
 the beautiful marble tondo of the "Madonna and Child" 
 by Michelangelo, which we are soon to see in the Bar- 
 gello, a reading lesson is in progress, and the child 
 wearying of it. We find Luca again in the next large 
 picture, No. 1547 a Crucifixion, with various Saints, done 
 in collaboration with Perugino. The design suggests Luca 
 rather than his companion, and the woman at the foot of 
 the cross is surely the type of which he was so fond. The 
 drawing of Christ is masterly and all too sombre for 
 Perugino. Finally, there is a Luca predella, No. 1298, 
 representing the Annunciation, the Birth of Christ (in 
 which Joseph is older almost than in any version), and the 
 Adoration of the Magi, all notable for freedom and rich- 
 ness. Note the realism and charm and the costume of the 
 two pages of the Magi. 
 
 And now we come to what is perhaps the most lovely 
 picture in the whole gallery, judged purely as colour and 
 sweetness and design No. 1549 a "Madonna Adoring," 
 with Filippino Lippi 's name and an interrogation mark be-
 
 128 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX ROOMS 
 
 neath it. Who painted it if not Filippino ? That is the ques- 
 tion ; but into such problems, which confront one at every 
 turn in Florence, I am neither qualified nor anxious to 
 enter. When doctors disagree anyone may decide before 
 me. The thought, moreover, that always occurs in the pres- 
 ence of these good debatable pictures, is that any doubt 
 as to their origin merely enriches this already over-rich 
 period, since someone had to paint them. Simon not 
 pure becomes hardly less remarkable than Simon pure. 
 
 If only the Baby were more pleasing, this would be per- 
 haps the most delightful picture in the world : as it is, its 
 blues alone lift it to the heavens of delectableness. By an 
 unusual stroke of fortune a crack in the paint where the 
 panels join has made a star in the tender blue sky. The 
 Tuscan landscape is very still and beautiful ; the flowers, 
 although conventional and not accurate like Luca's, are as 
 pretty as can be ; the one unsatisfying element is the Baby, 
 who is a little clumsy and a little in pain, but diffuses 
 radiance none the less. And the Mother the Mother is 
 all perfection and winsomeness. Her face and hands are 
 exquisite, and the Tuscan twilight behind her is so lovely. 
 I have given a reproduction, but colour is essential. 
 
 The remaining three pictures in the room are a Bas- 
 tiano and a Pollaiuolo, which are rather for the ntudent 
 than the wanderer, and a charming Ignoto, No. 75, which 
 I like immensely. But Ignoto nearly always paints well. 
 
 In the Sala di Leonardo are two pictures which bear 
 the name of this most fascinating of all the painters of 
 the world. One is the Annunciation, No. 1288, upon the 
 authenticity of which much has been said and written, and 
 the other an unfinished Adoration of the Magi which can- 
 not be questioned by anyone. The probabilities are that 
 the Annunciation is an early work and that the ascrip-
 
 LEONARDO DA VINCI 129 
 
 tion is accurate: at Oxford is a drawing known to be 
 Leonardo's that is almost certainly a study for a detail 
 of this work, while among the Leonardo drawings in the 
 His de la Salle collection at the Louvre is something very 
 like a first sketch of the whole. Certainly one can think 
 of no one else who could have given the picture its quality, 
 which increases in richness with every visit to the gallery ; 
 but the workshop of Verrocchio, where Leonardo worked, 
 together with Lorenzo di Credi and Perugino, with Andrea 
 of the True Eye over all, no doubt put forth wonderful 
 things. The Annunciation is unique in the collection, both 
 in colour and character : nothing in the UfEzi so deepens. 
 There are no cypresses like these in any other picture, no 
 finer drawing than that of Mary's hands. Luca's flowers 
 are better, hi the adjoining room ; one is not too happy 
 about the pedestal of the reading-desk ; and there are 
 Virgins whom we can like more ; but as a whole it is per- 
 haps the most fascinating picture of all, for it has the 
 Leonardo darkness as well as light. 
 
 Of Leonardo I could write for ever, but this book is not 
 the place ; for though he was a Florentine, Florence has 
 very little of his work : these pictures only, and one of 
 these only for certain, together with an angel in a work 
 by Verrocchio at the Accademia which we shall see, and 
 possibly a sculptured figure over the north door of the 
 Baptistery. Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan, and Francis 
 I of France, lured him away, to the eternal loss of his own 
 city. It is Milan and Paris that are richest in his work, 
 and after that London, which has at South Kensington a 
 sculptured relief by him as well as a painting at the 
 National Gallery, a cartoon at Burlington House, and 
 the British Museum drawings. 
 
 His other work here No. 1252 in the grave brown
 
 130 THE UFFIZI II : THE FIRST SIX ROOMS 
 
 frame, was to have been Leonardo's greatest picture in 
 oil, so Vasari says : larger, in fact, than any known picture 
 at that time. Being very indistinct, it is, curiously 
 enough, best as the light begins to fail and the beautiful 
 wistful faces emerge from the gloom. In their presence 
 one recalls Leonardo's remark in one of his notebooks that 
 faces are most interesting beneath a troubled sky. "You 
 should make your portrait," he adds, "at the hour of the 
 fall of the evening when it is cloudy or misty, for the 
 light then is perfect." In the background one can discern 
 the prancing horses of the Magi's suite ; a staircase with 
 figures ascending and descending ; the rocks and trees of 
 Tuscany ; and looking at it one cannot but ponder upon 
 the fatality which seems to have pursued this divine and 
 magical genius, ordaining that almost everything that he 
 put forth should be either destroyed or unfinished : his 
 work in the Castello at Milan, which might otherwise be 
 an eighth wonder of the world, perished ; his "Last Supper " 
 at Milan perishing ; his colossal equestrian statue of Fran- 
 cesco Sforza broken to pieces ; his sculpture lost ; his 
 Palazzo Vecchio battle cartoon perished ; this picture only 
 a sketch. Even after long years the evil fate still per- 
 sists, for in 1911 his "Gioconda" was stolen from the 
 Louvre by madman or knave. 
 
 Among the other pictures in this room is the rather 
 hot "Adoration of the Magi," by Cosimo Rosselli (1439- 
 1507), over the Leonardo "Annunciation, "a glowing scene 
 of colour and animation : this Cosimo being the Cosimo 
 from whom Piero di Cosimo took his name, and an associ- 
 ate of Botticelli, Ghirlandaio, Perugino, and Luca Signo- 
 relli on the Sixtine Chapel frescoes. On the left wall 
 is Uccello's battle piece, No. 52, very like that in our 
 National Gallery : rich and glorious as decoration, but
 
 THE ANNUNCIATION 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY BOTTICELLI IN THE UFFIZI
 
 PAOLO UCCELLO 131 
 
 quite bearing out Vasari's statement that Uccello could 
 not draw horses. Uccello was a most laborious student of 
 animal life and so absorbed in the mysteries of perspective 
 that he preferred them to bed ; but he does not seem to 
 have been able to unite them. He was a perpetual 
 butt of Donatello. It is told of him that having a com- 
 mission to paint a fresco for the Mercato Vecchio he kept 
 the progress of the work a secret and allowed no one to 
 see it. At last, when it was finished, he drew aside the 
 sheet for Donatello, who was buying fruit, to admire. 
 "Ah, Paolo," said the sculptor reproachfully, "now that 
 you ought to be covering it up, you uncover it." 
 
 There remain a superb nude study of Venus by Lorenzo 
 di Credi, No. 3452 one of the pictures which escaped 
 Savonarola's bonfire of vanities and No. 1305, a Virgin 
 and Child with various Saints by Domenico Veneziano 
 (1400-1461), who taught Gentile da Fabriano, the teacher 
 of Jacopo Bellini. This picture is a complete contrast 
 to the Uccello : for that is all tapestry, richness, and bellig- 
 erence, and this is so pale and gentle, with its lovely 
 light green, a rare colour in this gallery.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE UFFIZI III Z BOTTICELLI 
 
 A painter apart Sandro Filipepi Artists' names Piero 3e' Med- 
 ici The "Adoration of the Magi" The "Judith" pictures 
 Lucrezia Tornabuoni, Lorenzo and Giuliano's mother The Tourna- 
 ments The "Birth of Venus" and the "Primavera" Simonetta A 
 new star Sacred pictures Savonarola and "The Calumny" The 
 National Gallery Botticelli's old age and death. 
 
 WE come next to the Sala di Botticelli, and such is the 
 position held by this painter in the affection of 
 visitors to Florence, and such the wealth of works from his 
 hand that the Uffizi possesses, that I feel that a single 
 chapter may well be devoted to his genius, more particularly 
 as many of his pictures were so closely associated with Piero 
 de' Medici and Lorenzo de' Medici. We see Botticelli 
 here at his most varied. The Accademia also is very rich 
 in his work, having above all the "Primavera," and in this 
 chapter I shall glance at the Accademia pictures too, re- 
 turning to them when we reach that gallery in due course. 
 Among the great Florentine masters Botticelli stands 
 apart by reason not only of the sensitive wistful delicacy 
 of his work, but for the profound interest of his personality. 
 He is not essentially more beautiful than his friend Filippino 
 Lippi or occasionally than Fra Lippo Lippi his master ; 
 but he is always deeper. One feels that he too felt the 
 emotion that his characters display ; he did not merely 
 
 132
 
 ARTISTS' NAMES 133 
 
 paint, he thought and suffered. Hence his work is dra- 
 matic. Again Botticelli had far wider sympathies than 
 most of his contemporaries. He was a friend of the Medici, 
 a neo-Platonist, a student of theology with the poet Pal- 
 mieri, an illustrator of Dante, and a devoted follower of 
 Savonarola. Of the part that women played in his life we 
 know nothing : in fact we know less of him intimately 
 than of almost any of the great painters ; but this we may 
 guess, that he was never a happy man. His work falls 
 naturally into divisions corresponding to his early devotion 
 to Piero de' Medici and his wife Lucrezia Tornabuoni, in 
 whose house for a while he lived ; to his interest in their 
 sons Lorenzo and Giuliano ; and finally to his belief in 
 Savonarola. Sublime he never is ; comforting he never is ; 
 but he is everything else. One can never forget in his 
 presence the tragedy that attends the too earnest seeker 
 after beauty : not "all is vanity" does Botticelli say, but 
 "all is transitory." 
 
 Botticelli, as we now call him, was the son of Mariano 
 Filipepi and was born in Florence in 1447. According to 
 one account he was called Sandro di Botticelli because he 
 was apprenticed to a goldsmith of that name ; according 
 to another his brother Antonio, a goldsmith, was known 
 as Botticello (which means a little barrel), and Sandro 
 being with him was called Sandro di Botticello. Whatever 
 the cause, the fact remains that the name of Filipepi is 
 rarely used. 
 
 And here a word as to the capriciousness of the nomen- 
 clature of artists. We know some by their Christian names ; 
 some by their surnames ; some by their nicknames ; some 
 by the names of their towns, and some by the names 
 of their masters. Tommaso Bigordi, a goldsmith, was so 
 clever in designing a pretty garland for women's hair that
 
 134 THE UFFIZI III : BOTTICELLI 
 
 he was called Ghirlandaio, the garland-maker, and his 
 painter son Domenico is therefore known for ever as 
 Domenico Ghirlandaio. Paolo Doni, a painter of battle 
 scenes, was so fond of birds that he was known as Uccello 
 (a bird) and now has no other name ; Pietro Vannucci 
 coming from Perugia was called Perugino ; Agnolo di 
 Francesco di Migliore happened to be a tailor with a genius 
 of a son, Andrea ; that genius is therefore Andrea of the 
 tailor del Sarto for all time. And so forth 
 
 To return to Botticelli. In 1447, when he was born, Fra 
 Angelico was sixty ; and Masaccio had been dead for some 
 years. At the age of twelve the boy was placed with Fra 
 Lippo Lippi, then a man of a little more than fifty, to 
 learn painting. That Lippo was his master one may see 
 continually, but particularly by comparison of his head- 
 dresses with almost any of Botticelli's. Both were minutely 
 careful in this detail. But where Lippo was beautifully 
 obvious, Sandro was beautifully analytical : he was also, as 
 I have said, much more interesting and dramatic. 
 
 Botticelli's best patron was Piero de' Medici, who took 
 him into his house, much as his son Lorenzo was to take 
 Michelangelo into his, and made him one of the family. 
 For Piero, Botticelli always had affection and respect, and 
 when he painted his " Fortitude " as one of the PolJaiuoIi T s 
 series of the Virtues for the Mercatanzia (of which several 
 are in this gallery), he made the figure symbolize Piero's 
 life and character or so it is possible, if one wishes, to 
 believe. But it should be understood that almost nothing 
 is known about Botticelli and the origin of his pictures. 
 At Piero's request Botticelli painted the " Adoration of the 
 Magi " (No. 1286) which was to hang in S. Maria Novella 
 as an offering of gratitude for Piero's escape from the con- 
 spiracy of Luca Pitti in 1466. Piero had but just succeeded
 
 THE LOGGIA DE LANZI, THE DUOMO, AND THE PALAZZO VECCHIO 
 FROM THE PORTICO OF THE UFFIZI
 
 THE CARMINE PORTRAIT 135 
 
 to Cosimo when Pitti, considering him merely an invalid* 
 struck his blow. By virtue largely of the young Lorenzo's 
 address the attack miscarried : hence the presence of 
 Lorenzo in the picture, on the extreme left, with a sword. 
 Piero himself in scarlet kneels in the middle ; Giuliano, 
 his second son, doomed to an early death by assassination, 
 is kneeling on his right. The picture is not only a sacred 
 painting but (like the Gozzoli fresco at the Riccardi palace) 
 an exaltation of the Medici family. The dead Cosimo is 
 at the Child's feet ; the dead Giovanni, Piero's brother, 
 stands close to the kneeling Giuliano. Among the other 
 persons represented are collateral Medici and certain of 
 their friends. 
 
 It is by some accepted that the figure in yellow, on the 
 extreme right, looking out of this picture, is Botticelli 
 himself. But for a portrait of the painter of more authen- 
 ticity we must go to the Carmine, where, in the Brancacci 
 chapel, we shall see a fresco by Botticelli's friend Filippino 
 Lippi representing the Crucifixion of S. Peter, in which 
 our painter is depicted on the right, looking on at the 
 scene a rather coarse heavy face, with a large mouth and 
 long hair. He wears a purple cap and red cloak. Vasari 
 tells us that Botticelli, although so profoundly thoughtful 
 and melancholy in his work, was extravagant, pleasure 
 loving, and given to practical jokes. Part at least of this 
 might be gathered from observation of Filippino Lippi 's 
 portrait of him. According to Vasari it was No. 1286 
 which brought Botticelli his invitation to Rome from 
 Sixtus IV to decorate the Sixtine Chapel. But that was 
 several years later and much was to happen in the in- 
 terval. 
 
 The two little "Judith" pictures (Nos. 1156 and 1158) 
 were painted for Piero de' Medici and had their place in
 
 136 THE UFFIZI III : BOTTICELLI 
 
 the Medici palace. In 1494, when Piero di Lorenzo de' 
 Medici was banished from Florence and the palace looted, 
 they were stolen and lost sight of ; but during the reign 
 of Francis I they reappeared and were presented to his wife 
 Bianca Capella and once more placed with the Medici 
 treasures. No. 1156, the Judith walking springily along, 
 sword in hand, having slain the tyrant, is one of the master- 
 pieces of paint. Everything about it is radiant, superb, 
 and unforgettable. 
 
 One other picture which the young painter made for his 
 patron or in this case his patroness, Lucrezia Tornabuoni, 
 Piero's wife is the "Madonna of the Magnificat," No. 1267, 
 with its beautiful children and sweet Madonna, its lovely 
 landscape but not too attractive Child. The two boys are 
 Lorenzo, on the left, and Giuliano, in yellow. One of their 
 sisters leans over them. Here the boys are perhaps, 
 in Botticelli's way, typified rather than portrayed. Al- 
 though this picture came so early in his career Botticelli 
 never excelled its richness, beauty, and depth of feeling, nor 
 its liquid delicacy of treatment. Lucrezia Tornabuoni, for 
 whom he painted it, was a very remarkable woman, not 
 only a good mother to her children and a good wife to 
 Piero but a poet and exemplar. She survived Piero by 
 thirteen years and her son Giuliano by five. Botticelli 
 painted her portrait, which is now in Berlin. 
 
 These pictures are the principal work of Botticelli's first 
 period, which coincides with the five years of Piero's rule 
 and the period of mourning for him. 
 
 He next appears in what many of his admirers find his 
 most fascinating mood, as a joyous allegorist, the picture 
 of Venus rising from the sea in this room, the "Primavera" 
 which we shall see at the Accademia, and the "Mars and 
 Venus" in our National Gallery, belonging to this epoch.
 
 SIMONETTA 137 
 
 But in order to understand them we must again go to 
 history. Piero was succeeded in 1469 by his son Lorenzo 
 the Magnificent, who continued his father's friendship for 
 the young painter, now twenty-two years of age. In 1474 
 Lorenzo devised for his brother Giuliano a tournament 
 in the Piazza of S. Croce very like that which Piero had 
 given for Lorenzo on the occasion of his betrothal in 1469 ; 
 and Botticelli was commissioned by Lorenzo to make 
 pictures commemorating the event. Verrocchio again 
 helped with the costumes ; Lucrezia Donati again was 
 Queen of the Tournament ; but the Queen of Beauty was 
 the sixteen-year-old bride of Marco Vespucci the lovely 
 Simonetta Cattaneo, a lady greatly beloved by all and a 
 close friend both of Giuliano and Lorenzo. 
 
 The praises of Lorenzo's tournament had been sung by 
 Luca Pulci : Giuliano's were sung by Poliziano, under the 
 title "La Giostra di Giuliano de' Medici," and it is this 
 poem which Botticelli may be said to have illustrated, for 
 both poet and artist employ the same imagery. Thus 
 Poliziano, or Politian (of whom we shall hear more in the 
 chapter on S. Marco) compares Simonetta to Venus, and 
 in stanzas 100 and 101 speaks of her birth, describing 
 her blown to earth over the sea by the breath of the 
 Zephyrs, and welcomed there by the Hours, one of whom 
 offers her a robe. This, Botticelli translates into exquisite 
 tempera with a wealth of pretty thoughts. The cornflowers 
 and daisies on the Hour's dress are alone a perennial joy. 
 
 Simonetta as Venus has some of the wistfulness of the 
 Madonnas ; and not without reason does Botticelli give 
 her this expression, for her days were very short. In 
 the "Primavera," which we are to see at the Accademia, 
 but which must be described here, we find Simonetta again, 
 but we do not see her first. We see first that slender up-
 
 138 THE UFFIZI III : BOTTICELLI 
 
 right commanding figure, all flowers and youth and con- 
 quest, in her lovely floral dress, advancing over the grass- 
 like thistle-down. Never before in painting had anything 
 been done at once so distinguished and joyous and pagan 
 as this. For a kindred emotion one had to go to Greek 
 sculpture, but Botticelli, while his grace and joy are Helle- 
 nic, was intensely modern too : the problems of the Renais- 
 sance, the tragedy of Christianity, equally cloud his brow. 
 
 The symbolism of the "Primavera" is interesting. 
 Glorious Spring is returning to earth in the presence of 
 Venus once more to make all glad, and with her her 
 attendants to dance and sing, and the Zephyrs to bring the 
 soft breezes ; and by Spring Botticelli meant the reign 
 of Lorenzo, whose tournament motto was "Le temps re- 
 vient." Simonetta is again the central figure, and never 
 did Botticelli paint more exquisitely than here. Her 
 bosom is the prettiest in Florence ; the lining of her robe 
 over her right arm has such green and blue and gold as 
 never were seen elsewhere ; her golden sandals are delicate 
 as gossamer. Over her head a little cupid hovers, directing 
 his arrow at Mercury, on the extreme left, beside the three 
 Graces. 
 
 In Mercury, who is touching the trees with his caduceus 
 and bidding them burgeon, some see Giuliano de' Medici, 
 who was not yet betrothed. But when the picture was 
 painted both Giuliano and Simonetta were dead : Simon- 
 etta first, of consumption, in 1476, and Giuliano, by stabbing, 
 in 1478. Lorenzo, who was at Pisa during Simonetta's 
 illness, detailed his own physician for her care. On hear- 
 ing of her death he walked out into the night and noticed 
 for the first time a brilliant star. "See," he said, "either 
 the soul of that most gentle lady hath been transferred 
 into that new star or else hath it been joined together there-
 
 SAN GIACOMO 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY ANDREA DEL SAR1O IN THE OTFIZI
 
 THE " VENUS AND MARS " 139 
 
 unto." Of Giuliano's end we have read in Chapter II, and 
 it was Botticelli, whose destinies were so closely bound up 
 with the Medici, who was commissioned to paint portraits 
 of the murderous Pazzi to be displayed outside the Palazzo 
 Vecchio. 
 
 A third picture in what may be called the tournament 
 period is found by some in the "Venus and Mars," No. 915, 
 in our National Gallery. Here Giuliano would be Mars, 
 and Venus either one woman in particular whom Florence 
 wished him to many, or all women, typified by one, trying 
 to lure him from other pre-occupations, such as hunting. 
 To make her Simonetta is to go too far ; for she is not like 
 the Simonetta of the other pictures, and Simonetta was 
 but recently married and a very model of fair repute. In 
 No. 916 in the National Gallery is a "Venus with Cupids" 
 (which might be by Botticelli and might be by that inter- 
 esting painter of whom Mr. Berenson has written so 
 attractively as Amico di Sandro), in which Politian's de- 
 scription of Venus, in his poem, is again closely followed. 
 
 After the tournament pictures we come in Botticelli's 
 career to the Sixtine Chapel frescoes, and on his return to 
 Florence to other frescoes, including that lovely one at the 
 Villa Lemmi (then the Villa Tornabuoni) which is now on 
 the staircase of the Louvre. These are followed by at least 
 two more Medici pictures the portrait of Piero dijLorenzo 
 de' Medici, in this room, No. 1154, the sad-faced youth 
 with the medal ; and the "Pallas and the Centaur" at the 
 Pitti, an historical record of Lorenzo's success as a diplo- 
 matist when he went to Naples in 1480. 
 
 The latter part of Botticelli's life was spent under the 
 influence of Savonarola and in despair at the wickedness 
 of the world and its treatment of that prophet. His 
 pictures became wholly religious, but it was religion without
 
 140 THE UFFIZI III: BOTTICELLI 
 
 joy. Never capable of disguising the sorrow that underlies 
 all human happiness or, as I think of it in looking at his 
 work, the sense of transience Botticelli, as age came upon 
 him, was more than ever depressed. One has the feel- 
 ing that he was persuaded that only through devotion and 
 self-negation could peace of mind be gained, and yet for 
 himself could find none. The sceptic was too strong in him. 
 Savonarola's eloquence could not make him serene, however 
 much he may have come beneath its spell. It but served to 
 increase his melancholy. Hence these wistful despondent 
 Madonnas, all so conscious of the tragedy before their 
 Child ; hence these troubled angels and shadowed saints. 
 
 Savonarola was hanged and burned in 1498, and Botti- 
 celli paid a last tribute to his friend in the picture in this 
 room called "The Calumny." Under the pretence of 
 merely illustrating a passage in Lucian, who was one of 
 his favourite authors, Botticelli has represented the cam- 
 paign against the great reformer. The hall represents 
 Florence ; the judge (with the ears of an ass) the Signoria 
 and the Pope. Into these ears Ignorance and Suspicion are 
 whispering. Calumny, with Envy at her side and tended 
 by Fraud and Deception, holds a torch in one hand and 
 with the other drags her victim, who personifies (but with no 
 attempt at a likeness) Savonarola. Behind are the figures 
 of Remorse, cloaked and miserable, and Truth, naked and 
 unafraid. The statues in the niches ironically represent 
 abstract virtues. Everything in the decoration of the 
 palace points to enlightenment and content ; and beyond 
 is the calmest and greenest of seas. 
 
 One more picture was Botticelli to paint, and this also 
 was to the glory of Savonarola. By good fortune it be- 
 longs to the English people and is No. 1034 in the National 
 Gallery. It has upon it a Greek inscription in the painter's
 
 SAVONAROLA 141 
 
 own hand which runs in English as follows : "This picture I, 
 Alessandro, painted at the end of the year 1500, hi the 
 troubles of Italy, in the half-time after the time during the 
 fulfilment of the eleventh of St. John, in the second woe of 
 the Apocalypse, in the loosing of the devil for three years 
 and a half. Afterwards he shall be confined, and we shall 
 see him trodden down, as in this picture." The loosing of 
 the devil was the three years and a half after Savonarola's 
 execution on May 23rd, 1498, when Florence was mad with 
 reaction from the severity of his discipline. S. John says, 
 " I will give power unto my two witnesses, and they shall 
 prophesy"; the painter makes three, Savonarola having 
 had two comrades with him. The picture was intended to 
 give heart to the followers of Savonarola and bring promise 
 of ultimate triumph. 
 
 After the death of Savonarola, Botticelli became both 
 poor and infirm. He had saved no money and all his 
 friends were dead Piero de' Medici, Lorenzo, Giuliano, 
 Lucrezia, Simonetta, Filippino Lippi, and Savonarola. 
 He hobbled about on crutches for a while, a pensioner of 
 the Medici family, and dying at the age of seventy-eight 
 was buried in Ognissanti, but without a tombstone for fear 
 of desecration by the enemies of Savonarola's adherents. 
 
 Such is the outline of Botticelli's life. We will now 
 look at such of the pictures in this room as have not been 
 mentioned. 
 
 Entering from the Sala di Leonardo, the first picture 
 on the right is the "Birth of Venus." Then the very 
 typical circular picture a shape which has come to be 
 intimately associated with this painter No. 1289, "The 
 Madonna of the Pomegranate," one of his most beautiful 
 works, and possibly yet another designed for Lucrezia 
 Tornabuoni, for the curl on the forehead of the boy to the
 
 142 THE UFFIZI III : BOTTICELLI 
 
 left of the Madonna who is more than usually troubled 
 is very like that for which Giuliano de' Medici was 
 famous. This is a very lovely work, although its colour is 
 a little depressed. Next is the most remarkable of the 
 Piero de' Medici pictures, which I have already touched 
 upon No. 1286, "The Adoration of the Magi," as different 
 from the Venus as could be : the Venus so cool and trans- 
 parent, and this so hot and rich, with its haughty Florentines 
 and sumptuous cloaks. Above it is No. 23, a less subtle 
 group the Madonna, the Child and angels difficult to 
 see. And then comes the beautiful " Magnificat," which we 
 know to have been painted for Lucrezia Tornabuoni and 
 which shall here introduce a passage from Pater: "For 
 with Botticelli she too, although she holds in her hands 
 the 'Desire of all nations,' is one of those who are neither 
 for Jehovah nor for His enemies ; and her choice is on her 
 face. The white light on it is cast up hard and cheerless 
 from below, as when snow lies upon the ground, and 
 the children look up with surprise at the strange whiteness 
 of the ceiling. Her trouble is in the very caress of the 
 mysterious child, whose gaze is always far from her, and 
 who has already that sweet look of devotion which men 
 have never been able altogether to love, and which still 
 makes the born saint an object almost of suspicion to his 
 earthly brethren. Once, indeed, he guides her hand to 
 transcribe in a book the words of her exaltation, the 'Ave,' 
 and the 'Magnificat,' and the 'Gaude Maria,' and the 
 young angels, glad to rouse her for a moment from her 
 devotion, are eager to hold the ink-horn and to support 
 the book. But the pen almost drops from her hand, and 
 the high cold words have no meaning for her, and her 
 true children are those others among whom, in her rude 
 home, the intolerable honour came to her, with that look
 
 THE "ANNUNCIATION" 143 
 
 of wistful inquiry on their irregular faces which you see in 
 startled animals gipsy children, such as those who, in 
 Apennine villages, still hold out their long brown arms to 
 beg of you, with their thick black hair nicely combed, and 
 fair white linen on their sunburnt throats." 
 
 The picture's frame is that which was made for it four 
 hundred and fifty years ago : by whom, I cannot say, but it 
 was the custom at that time for the painter himself to be 
 responsible also for the frame. 
 
 The glory of the end wall is the " Annunciation," a work 
 that may perhaps not wholly please at first, the cause 
 largely of the vermilion on the floor, but in the end con- 
 quers. The hands are among the most beautiful in existence, 
 and the landscape, with its one tree and its fairy architec- 
 ture, is a continual delight. Among "Annunciations," as 
 among pictures, it stands very high. It has more of sophisti- 
 cation than most: the Virgin not only recognizes the honour, 
 but the doom, which the painter himself foreshadows in the 
 predella, where Christ is seen rising from the grave. None 
 of Fra Angelico's simple radiance here, and none of Fra 
 Lippo Lippi's glorified matter-of-fact. Here is tragedy. 
 The painting of the Virgin's head-dress is again marvellous. 
 The picture is reproduced in this book. 
 
 Next the " Annunciation " on the left is, to my eyes, one 
 of Botticelli's most attractive works : No. 1303, just the 
 Madonna and Child again, in a niche, with roses climbing 
 behind them : the Madonna one of his youngest, and more 
 placid and simple than most, with more than a hint of the 
 Verrocchio type in her face. To the " School of Botticelli " 
 this is sometimes attributed : it may be rightly. Its pen- 
 dant is another " Madonna and Child," No. 76, more 
 like Lippo Lippi and very beautiful in its darker graver 
 way.
 
 144 THE UFFIZI III : BOTTICELLI 
 
 The other wall has the "Fortitude," the "Calumny," 
 and the two little "Judith and Holof ernes" pictures. 
 Upon the "Fortitude," to which I have already alluded, 
 it is well to look at Ruskin, who, however, was not aware 
 that the artist intended any symbolic reference to the 
 character and career of Piero de' Medici. The criticism 
 is in "Mornings in Florence," and it is followed by some 
 fine pages on the "Judith." The "Justice," "Prudence," 
 and "Charity" of the Pollaiuolo brothers, belonging to 
 the same series as the "Fortitude," are also here ; but after 
 the "Fortitude" one does not look at them.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE UFFIZI IV : REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 S. Zenobius Piero della Francesca Federigo da Montefeltro 
 Melozzo da Forli The Tribuna Raphael Re-arrangement The 
 gems The self-painted portraits A northern room Hugo van der 
 Goes Tommaso Portinari The sympathetic Memling Rubens 
 riotous Vittoria della Rovere Baroccio Honthorst Giovanni 
 the indiscreet The Medusa Medici miniatures Hercules Seghers 
 The Sala di Niobe Beautiful antiques. 
 
 PASSING from the Sala di Botticelli through the Sala 
 di Lorenzo Monaco and the first Tuscan rooms to 
 the corridor, we come to the second Tuscan room, which 
 is dominated by Andrea del Sarto (1486-1531), whose 
 "Madonna and Child," with "S. Francis and S. John the 
 Evangelist" No. 112 is certainly the favourite picture 
 here, as it is, hi reproduction, in so many homes; but, 
 apart from the Child, I like far better the "S. Giacomo" 
 No. 1254 so sympathetic and rich in colour, which is 
 reproduced in this volume. Another good Andrea is No. 93 
 a soft and misty apparition of Christ to, the Magdalen. 
 The Sodoma (1477-1549) on the easel "S. Sebastian," 
 No. 1279 is very beautiful in its Leonardesque hues and 
 romantic landscape, and the two Ridolfo Ghirlandaios 
 (1483-1561) near it are interesting as representing, with 
 much hard force, scenes in the story of S. Zenobius, of 
 Florence, of whom we read in Chapter II. In one he re- 
 L 145
 
 146 THE UFFIZI IV : REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 stores life to the dead child in the midst of a Florentine 
 crowd; in the other his bier, passing the Baptistery, re- 
 animates the dead tree. Giotto's tower and the tower of 
 the Palazzo Vecchio are to be seen on the left. A very 
 different picture is the Cosimo Rosselli, No. 1280 bis, a 
 comely "Madonna and Saints," with a motherly thought 
 in the treatment of the bodice. 
 
 Among the other pictures is a naked sprawling scene of 
 bodies and limbs by Cosimo I's favourite painter, Bronzino 
 (1502-1572), called "The Saviour in Hell," and two nice 
 Medici children from the same brush, which was kept busy 
 both on the living and ancestral lineaments of that family ; 
 two Filippino Lippis, both fine if with a little too much 
 colour for this painter : one No. 1257 approaching 
 the hotness of a Ghirlandaio carpet piece, but a great 
 feat of crowded activity ; the other, No. 1268, having a 
 beautiful blue Madonna and a pretty little cherub with a 
 red book. Piero di Cosimo is here, religious and not 
 mythological ; and here are a very straightforward and 
 satisfying Mariotto Albertinelli the " Virgin and S. 
 Elizabeth," very like a Fra Bartolommeo ; a very rich 
 and beautiful " Deposition " by Botticini, one of Ver- 
 rocchio's pupils, with a gay little predella underneath it, 
 and a pretty " Holy Family " by Franciabigio. But 
 Andrea remains the king of the walls. 
 
 From this Sala a little room is gained which I advise 
 all tired visitors to the Uffizi to make their harbour of 
 refuge and recuperation; for it has only three or four 
 pictures in it and three or four pieces of sculpture and 
 some pleasant maps and tapestry on the walls, and from its 
 windows you look across the brown-red tiles to S. Miniato. 
 The pictures, although so few, are peculiarly attractive, 
 being the work of two very rare hands, Piero della Fran-
 
 THE MADONNA DEL CARDELLINO (OF THE CHAFFINCH) 
 
 BY RAPHAEL IN THE UFFIZI
 
 FEDERIGO DA MONTEFELTRO 147 
 
 cesca (? 1398-1492) and Melozzo da Forli (1438-1494). 
 Melozzo has here a very charming Annunciation in two 
 panels, the fascination of which I cannot describe. That 
 they are fascinating there is, however, no doubt. We have 
 symbolical figures by him in our National Gallery again 
 hanging next to Piero della Francesca but they are not 
 the equal of these in charm, although very charming. 
 These grow more attractive with every visit : the eager 
 advancing angel with his lily, and the timid little Virgin 
 in her green dress, with folded hands. 
 
 The two Pieros are, of course, superb. Piero never 
 painted anything that was not distinguished and liquid, 
 and here he gives us of his best : portraits of Federigo da 
 Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino, and Battista, his second 
 Duchess, with classical scenes behind them. Piero della 
 Francesca has ever been one of my favourite painters, and 
 here he is wholly a joy. Of his works Florence has but few, 
 since he was not a Florentine, nor did he work here, being 
 engaged chiefly at Urbino, Ferrara, Arezzo, and Rome. 
 His life ended sadly, for he became totally blind. In ad- 
 dition to his painting he was a mathematician of much 
 repute. The Duke of Urbino here depicted is Federigo da 
 Montefeltro, who ruled from 1444 to 1482, and in 1459 
 married as his second wife a daughter of Alessandro Sforza, 
 of Pesaro, the wedding being the occasion of Piero's pic- 
 tures. The duke stands out among the many Italian lords 
 of that time as a humane and beneficent ruler and collector, 
 and eager to administer well. He was a born fighter, and 
 it was owing to the loss of his right eye and the fracture of 
 his noble old nose that he is seen here in such a determined 
 profile against the lovely light over the Umbrian hills. The 
 symbolical chariots in the landscape at the back represent 
 respectively the Triumph of Fame (the Duke's) and the
 
 148 THE UFFIZI IV : REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 Triumph of Chastity (that of the Duchess). The Duke's 
 companions are Victory, Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, and 
 Temperance ; the little Duchess's are Love, Hope, Faith, 
 Charity, and Innocence; and if these are not exquisite 
 pictures I never saw any. 
 
 The statues in the room should not be missed, particu- 
 larly the little Genius of Love, the Bacchus and Ampelos, 
 and the spoilt little comely boy supposed to represent 
 and quite conceivably the infant Nero. 
 
 Crossing the large Tuscan room again, we come to a 
 little narrow room filled with what are now called cabinet 
 pictures : far too many to study properly, but comprising 
 a benignant old man's head, No. 1167, which is sometimes 
 called a Filippino Lippi and sometimes a Masaccio, a frag- 
 ment of a fresco; a boy from the serene perfect hand of 
 Perugino, No. 1217 ; two little panels by Fra Bartolommeo 
 No. 1161 painted for a tabernacle to hold a Donatello 
 relief and representing the Circumcision and Nativity, in 
 colours, and at the back a pretty Annunciation in mono- 
 chrome; No. 1235, on the opposite wall, a very sweet 
 Mother and Child by the same artist ; a Perseus liberating 
 Andromeda, by Piero di Cosimo, No. 1312 ; two or three 
 Lorenzo di Credis; two or three Alloris; a portrait of 
 Galeazzo Maria Sf orza, by Antonio Pollaiuolo ; and three 
 charming little scenes from the lives of S. John the Baptist 
 and the Virgin, by Fra Angelico, which belong properly to 
 the predella of an altar-piece that we saw in the first room 
 we entered No. 1290, "The Coronation of the Virgin." 
 No. 1162 has the gayest green dress in it imaginable. 
 
 And here we enter the Tribuna, which is to the UfEzi 
 what the Salon Carre is to the Louvre : the special treasure- 
 room of the gallery, holding its most valuable pictures. 
 But to-day there are as good works outside it as in ; for the
 
 THE TRIBUNA 149 
 
 Michelangelo has been moved to another room, and Botti- 
 celli (to name no other) is not represented here at all. 
 Probably the statue famous as the Venus de' Medici would 
 be considered the Tribuna's chief possession ; but not by 
 me. Nor should I vote either for Titian's Venus. In 
 sculpture I should choose rather the "Knife-sharpener," 
 and among the pictures Raphael's "Madonna del Cardel- 
 lino," No. 1129. But this is not to suggest that every- 
 thing is not a masterpiece, for it is. Beginning at the door 
 leading from the room of the little pictures, we find, on our 
 left, Raphael's "Ignota," No. 1120, so rich and unfeeling, 
 and then Francia's portrait of Evangelista Scappi, so rich 
 and real and a picture that one never forgets. Raphael's 
 Julius II comes next, not so powerful as the version in the 
 Pitti, and above that Titian's famous Venus. In Peru- 
 gino's portrait of Francesco delle Opere, No. 287, we find 
 an evening sky and landscape still more lovely than 
 Francia's. This Francesco was brother of Giovanni delle 
 Corniole, a protege of Lorenzo de' Medici, famous as a 
 carver of intaglios, whose portrait of Savonarola in this 
 medium, now preserved in the Uffizi, in the Gem Room, 
 was said by Michelangelo to carry art to its farthest pos- 
 sible point. 
 
 A placid and typical Perugino the Virgin and two 
 saints comes next, and then a northern air sweeps in 
 with Van Dyck's Giovanni di. Montfort, now darkening 
 into gloom but very fine and commanding. Titian's 
 second Venus is above, for which his daughter Lavinia 
 acted as model (the Venus of the other version being pos- 
 sibly the Marchesa della Rovere), and under it is the only 
 Luini in the Uffizi, unmistakably from the sweet hand and 
 full of Leonardesque influence. Beneath this is a rich and 
 decorative work of the Veronese school, a portrait of Eliza-
 
 150 THE UFFIZI IV : REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 betta Gonzaga, with another evening sky. Then we go 
 north again, to Diirer's Adoration of the Magi, a picture 
 full of pleasant detail a little mountain town here, a 
 knight in difficulties with his horse there, two butterflies 
 close to the Madonna and interesting also for the treat- 
 ment of the main theme in Diirer's masterly careful way ; 
 and then to Spain to Spagnoletto's "S. Jerome" in sombre 
 chiaroscuro; then north again to a painfully real Christ 
 crowned with thorns, by Lucas van Leyden, and the 
 mousy, Reynoldsy, first wife of Peter Paul Rubens, while 
 a Van Dyck portrait under a superb Domenichino and an 
 "Adam and Eve" by Lucas Cranach complete the north- 
 ern group. And so we come to the two Correggios so 
 accomplished and rich and untouching all delightful 
 virtuosity without feeling. The favourite is, of course, 
 No. 1134, for its adorable Baby, whose natural charm 
 atones for its theatrical Mother. 
 
 On the other side of the door is No. 1129, the perfect 
 " Madonna del Cardellino " of Raphael, so called from the 
 goldfinch that the little boys are caressing. This, one is 
 forced to consider one of the perfect pictures of the world, 
 even though others may communicate more pleasure. The 
 landscape is so exquisite and the mild sweetness of the 
 whole work so complete ; and yet, although the technical 
 mastery is almost thrilling, the "Madonna del Pozzo" by 
 Andrea del Sarto's friend Franciabigio, close by No. 
 1125 arouses infinitely livelier feelings in the observer, 
 so much movement and happiness has it. Raphael is 
 perfect but cold; Franciabigio is less perfect (although 
 exceedingly accomplished) but warm with life. The 
 charm of this picture is as notable as the skill of Raphael's : 
 it is wholly joyous, and the little Madonna really once 
 lived. Both are reproduced in this volume. Raphael's
 
 THE ROMAN MATRON 151 
 
 neighboring youthful "John the Baptist" is almost 
 a Giorgione for richness, but is as truly Raphael as the 
 Sebastian del Piombo, once (like the Franciabigio also) 
 called a Raphael, is not. How it came to be considered 
 Raphael, except that there may be a faint likeness to the 
 Fornarina, is a mystery. 
 
 The rooms next the Tribuna have for some time been 
 under reconstruction, and of these I say little, nor of 
 what pictures are to be placed there. But with the Tri- 
 buna, in any case, the collection suddenly declines, begins 
 to crumble. The first of these rooms, in the spring of 
 this year, 1912, was opened with a number of small 
 Italian paintings ; but they are probably only temporarily 
 there. Chief among them was a Parmigianino, a Bolt- 
 raffio, a pretty little Guido Reni, a Cosimo Tura, a Lorenzo 
 Costa, but nothing really important. 
 
 In the tiny Gem Room at the end of the corridor are 
 wonders of the lapidary's art and here is the famous 
 intaglio portrait of Savonarola but they want better 
 treatment. The vases and other ornaments should have 
 the light all round them, as in the Galerie d'Apollon at the 
 Louvre. These are packed together in wall cases and are 
 hard to see. 
 
 Passing through the end corridor, where the beautiful 
 Matrona reclines so placidly on her couch against the 
 light, and where we have such pleasant views of the Ponte 
 Vecchio, the Trinita bridge, the Arno, and the Apennines, so 
 fresh and real and soothing after so much paint, we come to 
 the rooms containing the famous collection of self-painted 
 portraits, which, moved hither from Rome, has been accu- 
 mulating in the Uffizi for many years and is still growing, 
 to be invited to contribute to it being one of the highest 
 honours a painter can receive. The portraits occupy eight
 
 152 THE UFFIZI IV: REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 rooms and a passage. Though the collection is historically 
 and biographically valuable, it contains for every interest- 
 ing portrait three or four dull ones, and thus becomes some- 
 thing of a weariness. Among the best are Lucas Cranach, 
 Anton More, Van Dyck, Rembrandt (three), Rubens, Sey- 
 bold, Jordaens, Reynolds, and Romney, all of which remind 
 us of Michelangelo's dry comment, "Every painter draws 
 himself well." Among the most interesting to us, wander- 
 ing in Florence, are the two Andreas, one youthful and the 
 other grown fatter than one likes and very different 
 from the melancholy romantic figure in the Pitti ; Verroc- 
 chio, by Lorenzo di Credi ; Carlo Dolci, surprising by its 
 good sense and humour; Raphael, angelic, wistful, and 
 weak ; Tintoretto, old and powerful ; and Jacopo Bassano, 
 old and simple. Among the moderns, Corot's portrait of 
 himself is one of the most memorable, but Fantin Latour, 
 Flandrin, Leon Bonnat, and Lenbach are all strong and 
 modest; which one cannot say of our own Leighton. 
 Among the later English heads Orchardson's is notable, 
 but Mr. Sargent's is disappointing. 
 
 We now come to one of the most remarkable rooms 
 in the gallery, where every picture is a gem ; but since all 
 are northern pictures, imported, I give no reproductions. 
 This is the Sala di Van der Goes, so called from the. great 
 work here, the triptych, painted in 1474 to 1477 by Hugo 
 van der Goes, who died in 1482, and was born at Ghent or 
 Ley den about 1 405 . This painter, of whose genius there can 
 be no question, is supposed to have been a pupil of the 
 Van Eycks. Not much is known of him save that he 
 painted at Bruges and Ghent and in 1476 entered a con- 
 vent at Brussels where he was allowed to dine with dis- 
 tinguished strangers who came to see him and where he 
 drank so much wine that his natural excitability turned to
 
 HUGO VAN DER GOES 153 
 
 insanity. He seems, however, to have recovered, and if ever 
 a picture showed few signs of a deranged or inflamed mind 
 it is this, which was painted for the agent of the Medici 
 bank at Bruges, Tommaso Portinari, who presented it to 
 the Hospital of S. Maria Nuova in his native city of 
 Florence, which had been founded by his ancestor Folco, the 
 father of Dante's Beatrice. The left panel shows Tommaso 
 praying with his two sons Antonio and Pigallo, the right 
 his wife Maria Portinari and their adorably quaint little 
 daughter with her charming head-dress and costume. The 
 flowers in the centre panel are among the most beauti- 
 ful things in any Florentine picture: not wild and way- 
 ward like Luca Signorelli's, but most exquisitely done : 
 irises, red lilies, columbines, and dark red clove pinks all 
 unexpected and all very unlikely to be in such a wintry 
 landscape at all. On the ground are violets. The whole 
 work is grave, austere, cool, and as different as can be 
 from the Tuscan spirit ; yet it is said to have had a deep 
 influence on the painters of the time and must have drawn 
 throngs to the Hospital to see it. 
 
 The other Flemish and German pictures in the room are 
 all remarkable and all warmer in tone. No. 906, an un- 
 known work, is perhaps the finest : a Crucifixion, which 
 might have borrowed its richness from the Carpaccio we 
 saw in the Venetian room. There is a fine Adoration of 
 the Magi, by Gerard David (1460-1523) ; an unknown por- 
 trait of Pierantonio Baroncelli and his wife, with a lovely 
 landscape ; a jewel of paint by Hans Memling (1425-1492) 
 No. 703 the Madonna Enthroned ; a masterpiece of 
 drawing by Diirer, "Calvary"; an austere and poignant 
 Transportation of Christ to the Sepulchre, by Roger van der 
 Weyden (1400-1464) ; and several very beautiful portraits 
 by Memling, notably Nos. 769 and 780 with their lovely
 
 154 THE UFFIZI IV : REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 evening light. Memling, indeed, I never liked better than 
 here. Other fine pictures are a Spanish prince by Lucas van 
 Leyden ; an old Dutch scholar by an artist unknown, No. 
 784 ; and a young husband and wife by Joost van Cleef 
 the Elder, and a Breughel the Elder, like an old Crome a 
 beauty No. 928. The room is interesting both for itself 
 and also as showing how the Flemish brushes were working 
 at the time that so many of the great Italians were 
 engaged on similar themes. 
 
 After the cool, self contained, scientific work of these 
 northerners it is a change to enter the Sala di Rubens and 
 find that luxuriant giant their compatriot, but how 
 different ! once more. In the Uffizi, Rubens seems more 
 foreign, far, than any one, so fleshly pagan is he. In 
 Antwerp cathedral his " Descent from the Cross," although 
 its bravura is, as always with him, more noticeable than its 
 piety, might be called a religious picture, but I doubt if 
 even that would seem so here. At any rate his Uffizi works 
 are all secular, while his " Holy Family " in the Pitti is merely 
 domestic and robust. His Florentine masterpieces are the 
 two Henri IV pictures in this room, "Henri IV at Ivry," 
 magnificent if not war, and "Henri's entry into Paris 
 after Ivry," with its confusing muddle of naked warriors 
 and spears. Only Rubens could have painted these 
 spirited, impossible, glorious things, which for all their 
 greatness send one's thoughts back longingly to the portrait 
 of his wife, in the Tribuna, while No. 216 the Baccha- 
 nale is so coarse as almost to send one's feet there too. 
 
 Looking round the room, after Rubens has been dismissed, 
 it is too evident that the best of the Uffizi collection is 
 behind us. There are interesting portraits here, but bio- 
 graphically rather than artistically. Here are one or two 
 fine Sustermans' (1597-1681), that imported painter whom
 
 THE MADONNA DEL POZZO (OF THE WELL) 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY FRANCIABIGIO IN THE UFFIZI
 
 VITTORIA DELIA ROVERE 155 
 
 we shall find in such rare form at the Pitti. Here, for 
 example, is Ferdinand II, who did so much for the Uffizi 
 and so little for Galileo ; and his cousin and wife Vittoria 
 della Rovere, daughter of Claudia de' Medici (whose por- 
 trait, No. 763, is on the easel) and Federigo della Rovere, 
 Duke of Urbino. This silly, plump lady had been married 
 at the age of fourteen, and she brought her husband a little 
 money and many pictures from Urbino, notably those 
 delightful portraits of an earlier Duke and Duchess of Ur- 
 bino by Piero della Francesca, and also the two Titian 
 "Venuses" in the Tribuna. Ferdinand II and his Grand 
 Duchess were on bad terms for most of their lives, and she 
 behaved foolishly, and brought up her son Cosimo III fool- 
 ishly, and altogether was a misfortune to Florence. Suster- 
 mans the painter she held in the highest esteem, and in 
 return he painted her not only as herself but in various 
 unlikely characters, among them a Vestal Virgin and even 
 the Madonna. 
 
 Here also is No. 196, Van Dyck's portrait of Margherita 
 of Lorraine, whose daughter became Cosimo Ill's wife 
 a mischievous, weak face but magnificently painted ; and 
 No. 1536, a vividly-painted elderly widow by Jordaens 
 (1593-1678) ; and on each side of the outrageous Rubens a 
 distinguished Dutch gentleman and lady by the placid, 
 refined Mierevelt. 
 
 The two priceless rooms devoted to Iscrizioni come next, 
 but we will finish the pictures first and therefore pass 
 on to the Sala di Baroccio. Federigo Baroccio (1528-1612) 
 is one of the later painters for whom I, at any rate, 
 cannot feel any enthusiasm. His position in the Uffizi is 
 due rather to the circumstance that he was a protege of 
 the Cardinal della Rovere at Rome, whose collection came 
 here, than to his genius. This room again is of interest
 
 156 THE UFFIZI IV: REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 rather historically than artistically. Here, for example, 
 are some good Medici portraits by Bronzino, among them 
 the famous Eleanora of Toledo, wife of Cosimo I, in a 
 rich brocade (in which she was buried), with the little staring 
 Ferdinand I beside her, Eleanora, as we saw in Chapter V, 
 was the first mistress of the Pitti palace, and the lady who 
 so disliked Cellini and got him into such trouble through 
 his lying tongue. Bronzino's little Maria de' Medici No. 
 1164 is more pleasing, for the other picture has a sinister 
 air. This child, the first-born of Cosimo I and Eleanora, 
 died when only sixteen. Baroccio has a fine portrait 
 Francesco Maria II, last Duke of Urbino, and the grand- 
 father of the Vittoria della Rovere whom we saw in the 
 Sala di Rubens. Here also is a portrait of Lorenzo the 
 Magnificent by Vasari, but it is of small value since 
 Vasari was not born till after Lorenzo's death. The Gal- 
 ileo by Sustermans No. 163 on the contrary would be 
 from life ; and after the Tribuna portrait of Rubens' first 
 wife it is interesting to find here his pleasant portrait of 
 Helen Fourment, his second. To my eyes two of the 
 most attractive pictures in the room are the Young Sculp- 
 tor No. 1266 by Bronzino, and the version of Leo- 
 nardo's S. Anne at the Louvre by Andrea Salaino of 
 Milan (1483 P-1520 ?). I like also the hints of tenderness 
 of Bernardino Luini which break through the hardness of 
 the Aurelio Luini picture No. 204. For the rest there 
 are some sickly Guido Renis and Carlo Dolcis and a 
 sentimental Guercino. 
 
 But the most popular works on Sundays are the two 
 Gerard Honthorsts, and not without reason, for they 
 are dramatic and bold and vivid, and there is a Baby in 
 each that goes straight to the maternal heart. No. 157 is 
 perhaps the more satisfying, but I have more reason to
 
 GERARD OF THE NIGHT 157 
 
 remember the larger one the Adoration of the Shep- 
 herds for I watched a copyist produce a most remark- 
 able replica of it in something under a week, on the same 
 scale. He was a short, swarthy man with a neck like a 
 bull's, and he carried the task off with astonishing brio, 
 never drawing a line, finishing each part as he came to it, 
 and talking to a friend or an official the whole time. 
 Somehow one felt him to be precisely the type of copyist 
 that Gherardo della Notte ought to have. This painter 
 was born at Utrecht in 1590 but went early to Italy, and 
 settling in Rome devoted himself to mastering the methods 
 of Amerighi, better known as Caravaggio (1569-1609), who 
 specialized in strong contrasts of light and shade. After 
 learning all he could in Rome, Honthorst returned to 
 Holland and made much money and fame, for his hand was 
 swift and sure. Charles I engaged him to decorate White- 
 hall. He died in 1656. These two Honthorsts are, as I 
 say, the most popular of the pictures on Sunday, when the 
 Uffizi is free; but their supremacy is challenged by the 
 five inlaid tables, one of which, chiefly in lapis lazuli, must 
 be the bluest thing on earth. 
 
 Passing for the present the Sala di Niobe, we come to the 
 Sala di Giovanni di San Giovanni, which is given to a 
 second-rate painter who was born in 1599 and died in 
 1636. His best work is a fresco at the Badia of Fiesole. 
 Here he has some theatrical things, including one picture 
 which sends English ladies out blushing. Here also are some 
 Lelys, including "Nelly Gwynn." Next are two rooms, 
 one leading from the other, given to German and Flemish 
 pictures and to miniatures, both of which are interesting. 
 In the first are more Diirers, and that alone would make it 
 a desirable resort. Here is a "Virgin and Child" No. 
 851 very naive and homely, and the beautiful portrait of
 
 158 THE UFFIZI IV: REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 his father No. 766 a symphony of brown and green. 
 Less attractive works from the same hand are the "Apostle 
 Philip" No. 777 and "S. Giacomo Maggiore," an old 
 man very coarsely painted by comparison with the artist's 
 father. Here also is a very beautiful portrait of Richard 
 Southwell, by Holbein, with the peacock-green background 
 that we know so well and always rejoice to see ; a typical 
 candle-light Schalcken, No. 800 ; several golden Poelen- 
 burghs; an anonymous portrait of Virgilius von Hytta 
 of Zuicham, No. 784; a clever smiling lady by Suster- 
 mans, No. 709 ; the Signora Puliciani and her husband, 
 No. 699 ; a rather crudely coloured Rubens "Venus and 
 Adonis" No. 812 ; the same artist's "Three Graces," in 
 monochrome, very naked; and some quaint portraits by 
 Lucas Cranach. 
 
 But no doubt to many persons the most enchaining 
 picture here is the Medusa's head, which used to be called 
 a Leonardo and quite satisfied Ruskin of its genuine- 
 ness, but is now attributed to the Flemish school. The 
 head, at any rate, would seem to be very similar to that of 
 which Vasari speaks, painted by Leonardo for a peasant, 
 but retained by his father. Time has dealt hardly with 
 the paint, and one has to study minutely before Medusa's 
 horrors are visible. Whether Leonardo's or not, it is not 
 uninteresting to read how the picture affected Shelley when 
 he saw it here in 1818 : 
 
 ... Its Horror and its Beauty are divine. 
 Upon its lips and eyelids seem to lie 
 Loveliness like a shadow, from which shine. 
 Fiery and lurid, struggling underneath, 
 The agonies of anguish and of death. 
 
 The little room leading from this one should be neglected 
 by no one interested in Medicean history, for most of the
 
 FIESOLE FROM THE HILL UNDER THE MONASTERY
 
 DUTCH PICTURES 159 
 
 family is here, in miniature, by Bronzino's hand. Here also 
 are miniatures by other great painters, such as Pourbus, 
 Guido Reni, Bassano, Clouet, Holbein. Look particularly 
 at No. 3382, a woman with brown hair, in purple a most 
 fascinating little picture. The Ignota in No. 3348 might 
 easily be Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I of England. 
 The other exhibits are copies in miniature of famous pic- 
 tures, notable among them a Raphael No. 3386 and a 
 Breughel No. 3445 while No. 3341, the robing of a 
 monk, is worth attention. 
 
 We come now to the last pictures of the collection 
 in three little rooms at the end, near the bronze sleeping 
 Cupid. Those in the first room were being rearranged when 
 I was last here; the others contain Dutch works notable 
 for a few masterpieces. There are too many Poelenburghs, 
 but the taste shown as a whole is good. Perhaps to the 
 English enthusiast for painting the fine landscape by 
 Hercules Seghers will, in view of the recent agitation over 
 Lord Lansdowne's Rembrandt, "The Mill," ascribed in 
 some quarters to Seghers be the most interesting pic- 
 ture of all. It is a sombre, powerful scene of rugged coast 
 which any artist would have been proud to sign ; but it in 
 no way recalls "The Mill's" serene strength. Among 
 the best of its companions are a very good Terburg, a very 
 good Metsu, and an extremely beautiful Ruysdael. 
 
 And so we are at the end of the pictures but only to 
 return again and again and are not unwilling to fall into 
 the trap of the official who sits here, and allow him to un- 
 lock the door behind the Laocoon group and enjoy what 
 he recommends as a "bella vista" from the open space, 
 which turns out to be the roof of the Loggia de' Lanzi. 
 From this high point one may see much of Florence and its 
 mountains, while, on looking down, over the coping, one
 
 160 THE UFFIZI IV: REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 finds the busy Piazza della Signoria below, with all its cabs 
 and wayfarers. 
 
 Returning to the gallery, we come quickly on the right 
 to the first of the neglected statuary rooms, the beautiful 
 Sala di Niobe, which contains some interesting Medicean 
 and other tapestries, and the sixteen statues of Niobe and 
 her children from the Temple of Apollo, which the Cardinal 
 Ferdinand de' Medici acquired, and which were for many 
 years at the Villa Medici at Rome. A suggested recon- 
 struction of the group will be found by the door. I can- 
 not pretend to a deep interest in the figures, but I like to 
 be in the room. The famous Medicean vase is in the 
 middle of it. Sculpture more ingratiating is close by, in 
 the two rooms given to Iscrizioni : a collection of priceless 
 antiques which are not only beautiful but peculiarly in- 
 teresting in that they can be compared with the work of 
 Donatello, Verrocchio, and other of the Renaissance sculp- 
 tors. For in such a case comparisons are anything but 
 odious and become fascinating. In the first room there is, 
 for example, a Mercury, isolated on the left, in marble, 
 who is a blood relation of Donatello's bronze David in the 
 Bargello; and certain reliefs of merry children, on the 
 right, low down, as one approaches the second room, are 
 cousins of the same sculptor's cantoria romps. Not that 
 Donatello ever reproduced the antique spirit as Michel- 
 angelo nearly did in his Bacchus, and Sansovino absolutely 
 did in his Bacchus, both at the Bargello : Donatello was 
 of his time, and the spirit of his time animates his creations, 
 but he had studied the Greek art in Rome and profited by 
 his lessons, and his evenly-balanced humane mind had a 
 warm corner for pagan joy fulness. Among other statues 
 in this first room is a Sacerdotessa, wearing a marble robe 
 with long folds, whose hands can be seen through the
 
 TRUE ANTIQUES 161 
 
 drapery. Opposite the door are Bacchus and Ampelos, 
 superbly pagan, while a sleeping Cupid is most lovely. 
 Among the various fine heads is one of Cicero, of an Un- 
 known No. 377 and of Homer in bronze (called by the 
 photographers Aristophanes). But each thing in turn is 
 almost the best. The trouble is that the Uffizi is so vast, 
 and the Renaissance seems to be so eminently the only 
 proper study of mankind when one is here, that to attune 
 oneself to the enjoyment of antique sculpture needs a 
 special effort which not all are ready to make. 
 
 In the centre of the next room is the punctual Her- 
 maphrodite without which no large Continental gallery is 
 complete. But more worthy of attention is the torso of a 
 faun on the left, on a revolving pedestal which (unlike 
 those in the Bargello, as we shall discover) really does 
 revolve and enables you to admire the perfect back. There 
 is also a torso in basalt or porphyry which one should 
 study from all points, and on the walls some wonderful 
 portions of a frieze from the Ara Pacis, erected in Rome, 
 B.C. 13-9, with wonderful figures of men, women, and 
 children on it. Among the heads is a colossal Alexander, 
 very fine indeed, a beautiful Antoninus, a benign and silly 
 Roman lady in whose existence one can quite believe, and 
 a melancholy Seneca. Look also at Nos. 330 and 332, on 
 the wall : 330, a charming genius, carrying one of Jove's 
 thunderbolts ; and 332, a boy who is sheer Luca della 
 Robbia centuries before his birth. 
 
 I ought to add that, in addition to the various salons in 
 the Uffizi, the long corridors are hung with pictures too, in 
 chronological order, the earliest of all being to the right of 
 the entrance door, and in the corridors there is also some 
 admirable statuary. But the pictures here, although not 
 the equal of those in the rooms, receive far too little atten- 
 ii
 
 162 THE UFFIZI IV : REMAINING ROOMS 
 
 tion, while the sculpture receives even less, whether the 
 beautiful full length athletes or the reliefs on the cisterns, 
 several of which have riotous Dionysian processions. On 
 the stairs, too, are some very beautiful works; while at 
 the top, in the turnstile room, is the original of the boar 
 which Tacca copied in bronze for the Mercato Nuovo, and 
 just outside it are the Medici who were chiefly concerned 
 with the formation of the collection. On the first landing, 
 nearest the ground, is a very beautiful and youthful 
 Bacchus. 
 
 The ceilings of the Uffizi rooms and corridors also are 
 painted, thoughtfully and dexterously, in the Pompeian 
 manner; but there are limits to the receptive capacity of 
 travellers' eyes, and I must plead guilty to consistently 
 neglecting them.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 "AERIAL FIESOLE" 
 
 Andrea del Sarto Fiesole sights The Villa Palmieri and the "De- 
 cameron" Botticini's picture in the National Gallery S. Francesco 
 The Roman amphitheatre The Etruscan museum A sculptor's walk 
 
 The Badia di Fiesole Brunelleschi again Giovanni di San Giovanni. 
 
 AFTER all these pictures, how about a little climbing ? 
 From so many windows in Florence, along so 
 many streets, from so many loggias and towers, and per- 
 haps, above all, from the Piazzale di Michelangelo, 
 Fiesole is to be seen on her hill, with the beautiful cam- 
 panile of her church in the dip between the two eminences, 
 that very soon one comes to feel that this surely is the 
 promised land. Florence lies so low, and the delectable 
 mountain is so near and so alluring. But I am not sure 
 that to dream of Fiesole as desirable, and to murmur its 
 beautiful syllables, is not best. 
 
 Let me sit 
 
 Here by the window with your hand in mine. 
 And look a half-hour forth on Fiesole 
 
 that was Andrea's way and not an unwise one. For 
 Fiesole at nearer view can easily disappoint. It is beauti- 
 fully set on its hill and it has a fascinating past ; but the 
 journey thither on foot is very wearisome, by the electric 
 tram vexatious and noisy, and in a horse-drawn carriage 
 expensive and cruel ; and when you are there you become 
 
 163
 
 164 "AERIAL FIESOLE" 
 
 once more a tourist without alleviation and are pestered by 
 beggars, and by nice little girls who ought to know better, 
 whose peculiar importunacy it is to thrust flowers into the 
 hand or buttonhole without any denial. What should 
 have been a mountain retreat from the city has become a 
 kind of Devil's Dyke. But if one is resolute, and, defying 
 all, walks up to the little monastery of S. Francesco at the 
 very top of the hill, one may rest almost undisturbed, with 
 Florence in the valley below, and gardens and vineyards un- 
 dulating beneath, and a monk or two ascending or descend- 
 ing the steps, and three or four picture-postcard hawkers 
 gambling in a corner, and lizards on the wall. Here it is 
 good to be in the late afternoon, when the light is mellow- 
 ing ; and if you want tea there is a little loggia a few yards 
 down this narrow steep path where it may be found. How 
 many beautiful villas in which one could be happy sunning 
 oneself among the lizards lie between this point and Flor- 
 ence ! Who, sitting here, can fail to think that ? 
 
 In walking to Fiesole one follows the high walls of the 
 Villa Palmieri, which is now very private American prop- 
 erty, but is famous for ever as the first refuge of Boc- 
 caccio's seven young women and three young men when 
 they fled from plague-stricken Florence in 1348 and told 
 tales for ten halcyon days. It is now generally agreed 
 that if Boccaccio had any particular house in his mind it 
 was this. It used to be thought that the Villa Poggio 
 Gherardo, Mrs. Ross's beautiful home on the way to 
 Settignano, was the first refuge, and the Villa Palmieri 
 the second, but the latest researches have it that the Pal- 
 mieri was the first and the Podere della Fonte, or Villa di 
 Boccaccio, as it is called, near Camerata, a little village 
 below S. Domenico, the other. The Villa Palmieri has 
 another and somewhat different historical association, for
 
 MONUMENT TO COUNT UGO 
 
 BY MINO DA FIESOLE IN THE BADIA
 
 THE VILLA PALMIERI 165 
 
 it was there that Queen Victoria resided for a while in 
 1888. But the most interesting thing of all about it is 
 the circumstance that it was the home of Matteo Palmieri, 
 the poet, and Botticelli's friend and fellow-speculator on 
 the riddle of life. Palmieri was the author of a remark- 
 able poem called "La Citta della Vita" (The City of Life) 
 which developed a scheme of theology that had many 
 attractions to Botticelli's curious mind. The poem was 
 banned by Rome, although not until after its author's 
 death. In our National Gallery is a picture which used to 
 be considered Botticelli's No. 1126, "The Assumption 
 of the Virgin" especially as it is mentioned with some 
 particularity by Vasari, together with the circumstance 
 that the poet and painter devised it in collaboration, 
 in which the poem is translated into pigment. As to the 
 theology, I say nothing, nor as to its new ascription to 
 Botticini ; but the picture has a greater interest for us in 
 that it contains a view of Florence with its wall of towers 
 around it in about 1475. The exact spot where the painter 
 sat has been identified by Miss Stokes in "Six Months 
 in the Apennines." On the left immediately below the 
 painter's vantage-ground is the Mugnone, with a bridge 
 over it. On the bank in front is the Villa Palmieri, and 
 on the picture's extreme left is the Badia of Fiesole. 
 
 On leaving S. Domenico, if still bent on walking, one 
 should keep straight on and not follow the tram lines to 
 the right. This is the old and terribly steep road which 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent and his friends Politian and Pico 
 della Mirandola had to travel whenever they visited the 
 Medici villa, just under Fiesole, with its drive lined with 
 cypresses. Here must have been great talk and much con- 
 viviality. It is now called the Villa McCalmont. 
 
 Once at Fiesole, by whatever means you reach it, do not
 
 166 "AERIAL FIESOLE" 
 
 neglect to climb the monastery steps to the very top. It is 
 a day of climbing, and a hundred or more steps either way 
 mean nothing now. For here is a gentle little church 
 with swift, silent monks in it, and a few flowers in bowls, 
 and a religious picture by that strange Piero di Cosimo 
 whose heart was with the gods in exile ; and the view of 
 Monte Ceceri, on the other side of Fiesole, seen through 
 the cypresses here, which could not be better in disposition 
 had Benozzo Gozzoli himself arranged them, is very strik- 
 ing and memorable. 
 
 Fiesole's darling son is Mino the sculptor the "Raph- 
 ael of the chisel" whose radiant Madonnas and children 
 and delicate tombs may be seen here and there all over 
 Florence. The piazza is named after him ; he is celebrated 
 on a marble slab outside the museum, where all the famous 
 names of the vicinity may be read too ; and in the church 
 is one of his most charming groups and finest heads. They 
 are in a little chapel on the right of the choir. The head 
 is that of Bishop Salutati, humorous, wise, and benign, and 
 the group represents the adoration of a merry little Christ 
 by a merry little S. John and others. As for the church 
 itself, it is severe and cool, with such stone columns in it as 
 must last for ever. 
 
 But the main interest of Fiesole to most people is not 
 the cypress-covered hill of S. Francesco; not the view 
 from the summit; not the straw mementoes; not the 
 Mino relief in the church; but the Roman arena. The 
 excavators have made of this a very complete place. One 
 can stand at the top of the steps and reconstruct it all 
 the audience, the performance, the performers. A very 
 little time spent on building would be needed to restore the 
 amphitheatre to its original form. Beyond it are baths, 
 and in a hollow the remains of a temple with the altar
 
 TO SETTIGNANO 167 
 
 where it ever was ; and then one walks a little farther and 
 is on the ancient Etruscan wall, built when Fiesole was 
 an Etruscan fortified hill city. So do the centuries fall 
 away here ! But everywhere, among the ancient Roman 
 stones so massive and exact, and the Etruscan stones, 
 are the wild flowers which Luca Signorelli painted in 
 that picture in the Uffizi which I love so much. 
 
 After the amphitheatre one visits the Museum with 
 the same ticket a little building filled with trophies of 
 the spade. There is nothing very wonderful nothing to 
 compare with the treasures of the Archaeological Museum 
 in Florence but it is well worth a visit. 
 
 On leaving the Museum on the last occasion that I was 
 there in April I walked to Settignano. The road for 
 a while is between houses, for Fiesole stretches a long way 
 farther than one suspects, very high, looking over the 
 valley of the Mugnone ; and then after a period between 
 pine trees and grape-hyacinths one turns to the right and 
 begins to descend. Until Poggio del Castello, a noble 
 villa, on an isolated eminence, the fall is very gradual, with 
 views of Florence round the shoulder of Monte Ceceri ; 
 but afterwards the road winds, to ease the fall, and the 
 wayfarer turns off into the woods and tumbles down the hill 
 by a dry water-course, amid crags and stones, to the be- 
 ginnings of civilization again, at the Via di Desiderio da 
 Settignano, a sculptor who stands to his native town in 
 precisely the same relation as Mino to his. 
 
 Settignano is a mere village, with villas all about it, and 
 the thing to remember there is not only that Desiderio 
 was born there but that Michelangelo's foster-mother 
 was the wife of a local stone-cutter stone-cutting at that 
 time being the staple industry. On the way back to Flor- 
 ence in the tram, one passes on the right a gateway sur-
 
 168 "AERIAL FIESOLE" 
 
 mounted by statues of the poets, the Villa Poggio Gher- 
 ardo, of which I have spoken earlier in the chapter. There 
 is no villa with a nobler mien than this. 
 
 That is one walk from Fiesole. Another is even more 
 a sculptor's way : for it would include Maiano too, where 
 Benedetto was born. The road is by way of the tram lines 
 to that acute angle just below Fiesole when they turn back 
 to S. Domenico, and so straight on down the hill. 
 
 But if one is returning to Florence direct after leaving 
 Fiesole it is well to walk down the precipitous paths to S. 
 Domenico, and before again taking the tram visit the 
 Badia overlooking the valley of the Mugnone. This is 
 done by turning to the right just opposite the church of 
 S. Domenico, which has little interest structurally but 
 is famous as being the chapel of the monastery where Fra 
 Angelico was once a monk. The Badia (abbey) di Fiesole, 
 as it now is, was built on the site of an older monastery, by 
 Cosimo Pater. Here Marsilio Ficino's Platonic Academy 
 used to meet, in the loggia and in the little temple which 
 one gains from the cloisters, and here Pico della Mirandola 
 composed his curious gloss on Genesis. 
 
 The dilapidated marble facade of the church and its 
 rugged stone- work are exceedingly ancient dating in 
 fact from the eleventh century; the new building is by 
 Brunelleschi and to my mind is one of his most beautiful 
 works, its lovely proportions and cool, unfretted white 
 spaces communicating even more pleasure than the Pazzi 
 chapel itself. The decoration has been kept simple and 
 severe, and the colour is just the grey pietra serena of 
 Fiesole, of which the lovely arches are made, all most ex- 
 quisitely chiselled, and the pure white of the walls and 
 ceilings. This church was a favourite with the Medici, 
 and the youthful Giovanni, the son of Lorenzo the Mag-
 
 A HAPPY FRESCO 169 
 
 nificent, received his cardinal's hat here in 1492, at the 
 age of sixteen. He afterwards became Pope Leo X. How 
 many of the boys, now in the school for the monastery 
 has become a Jesuit school will, one wonders, rise to 
 similar eminence. 
 
 In the beautiful cloisters we have the same colour 
 scheme as in the church, and here again Brunelleschi's 
 miraculous genius for proportion is to be found. Here 
 and there are foliations and other exquisite tracery by 
 pupils of Desiderio da Settignano. The refectory has a 
 high-spirited fresco by that artist whose room in the 
 Uffizi is so carefully avoided by discreet chaperons Gio- 
 vanni di San Giovanni representing Christ eating at a 
 table, his ministrants being a crowd of little roguish 
 angels and cherubim, one of whom (on the right) is in de- 
 spair at having broken a plate. In the entrance lobby 
 is a lavabo by Mino da Fiesole, with two little boys of 
 the whitest and softest marble on it, which is worth study. 
 
 And now we will return to the heart of Florence once 
 more.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE BADIA AND DANTE 
 
 Filippino Lippi Buffalmacco Mino da Fiesole The Dante quarter 
 Dante and Beatrice Monna Tessa Gemma Donati Dante in 
 exile Dante memorials in Florence The Torre della Castagna The 
 Borgo degli Albizzi and the old palaces S. Ambrogio Mine's taber- 
 nacle Wayside masterpieces S. Egidio. 
 
 OPPOSITE the Bargello is a church with a very beau- 
 tiful doorway designed by Benedetto da Rovezzano. 
 This church is known as the Badia, and its delicate spire is 
 a joy in the landscape from every point of vantage. The 
 Badia is very ancient, but the restorers have been busy 
 and little of Arnolfo's thirteenth-century work is left. It 
 is chiefly famous now for its Filippino Lippi and two tombs 
 by Mino da Fiesole, but historically it is interesting as 
 being the burial-place of the chief Florentine families in 
 the Middle Ages and as being the scene of Boccaccio's 
 lectures on Dante in 1373. The Filippino altar-piece, 
 which represents S. Bernard's Vision of the Virgin (a sub- 
 ject we shall see treated very beautifully by Fra Barto- 
 lommeo at the Accademia) is one of the most perfect and 
 charming pictures by this artist : very grave and real and 
 sweet, and the saint's hands exquisitely painted. The 
 figure praying in the right-hand corner is the patron, 
 Piero di Francesco del Pugliese, who commissioned this 
 picture for the church of La Campora, outside the Porta 
 
 170
 
 BUFFALMACCO'S JOKE 171 
 
 Romana, where it was honoured until 1529, when Clement 
 VII's troops advancing, it was brought here for safety and 
 has here remained. 
 
 Close by in the same chapel is a little door which 
 the sacristan will open, disclosing a portion of Arnolfo's 
 building with perishing frescoes which are attributed to 
 Buffalmacco, an artist as to whose reality much scepticism 
 prevails. They are not in themselves of much interest, 
 although the sacristan's eagerness should not be dis- 
 couraged ; but Buffalmacco being Boccaccio's, Sacchetti's, 
 Vasari's (and, later, Anatole France's) amusing hero, it is 
 pleasant to look at his work and think of his freakishness. 
 Buffalmacco, if he ever existed, was one of the earlier 
 painters, flourishing between 1311 and 1350, and was a pupil 
 of Andrea Tafi. This simple man he plagued very divert- 
 ingly, once frightening him clean out of his house by fixing 
 little lighted candles to the backs of beetles and steering 
 them into Tafi's bedroom at night. Tafi was terrified, but 
 on being told by Buffalmacco (who was a lazy rascal) that 
 these devils were merely showing their objection to early 
 rising, he became calm again, and agreed to lie in bed to a 
 reasonable hour. Cupidity, however, conquering, he again 
 ordered his pupil to be up betimes, when the beetles re-ap- 
 peared and continued to do so until the order was revoked. 
 
 The sculptor Mino da Fiesole, whom we shall shortly 
 see again, at the Bargello, in portrait busts and Madonna 
 reliefs, is at his best here, in the superb monument to 
 Count Ugo, who founded, with his mother, the Benedictine 
 Abbey of which the Badia is the relic. Here all Mine's 
 sweet thoughts, gaiety, and charm are apparent,! together 
 with the perfection of radiant workmanship. The quiet 
 dignity of the recumbent figure is no less masterly than the 
 group above it. Note the impulsive urgency of the splen-
 
 172 THE BADIA AND DANTE 
 
 did Charity, with her two babies, and the quiet beauty of 
 the Madonna and Child above all, while the proportions 
 and delicate patterns of the tomb as a whole still remain to 
 excite one's pleasure and admiration. We shall see many 
 tombs in Florence few not beautiful but none more 
 joyously accomplished than this. The tomb of Carlo Mar- 
 suppini in S. Croce by Desiderio da Settignano, which 
 awaits us, was undoubtedly the parent of the Ugo, Mino 
 following his master very closely; but his charm was his 
 own. According to Vasari, the Ugo tomb was considered 
 to be Mine's finest achievement, and he deliberately made 
 the Madonna and Child as like the types of his beloved 
 Desiderio as he could. It was finished in 1481, and Mino 
 died in 1484, from a chill following over-exertion in mov- 
 ing heavy stones. Mino also has here a monument to 
 Bernardo Giugni, a famous gonfalonier in the time of 
 Cosimo de' Medici, marked by the same distinction, but 
 not quite so memorable. The Ugo is his masterpiece. 
 
 The carved wooden ceiling, which is a very wonderful 
 piece of work and of the deepest and most glorious hue, 
 should not be forgotten ; but nothing is easier than to 
 overlook ceilings. 
 
 The cloisters are small, but they atone for that if it is 
 a fault by having a loggia. From the loggia the top of 
 the noble tower of the Palazzo Vecchio is seen to perfec- 
 tion. Upon the upper walls is a series of frescoes illustrat- 
 ing the life of S. Benedict which must have been very gay 
 and spirited once but are now faded. 
 
 The Badia may be said to be the heart of the Dante 
 quarter. Dante must often have been in the church before 
 it was restored as we now see it, and a quotation from the 
 "Divine Comedy" is on its fagade. The Via Dante and 
 the Piazza Donati are close by, and in the Via Dante are
 
 BEATRICE 173 
 
 many reminders of the poet besides his alleged birthplace. 
 Elsewhere in the city we find incised quotations from his 
 poem ; but the Baptistery his "beautiful San Giovanni" 
 is the only building in the city proper now remaining 
 which Dante would feel at home in could he return to it, 
 and where we can feel assured of sharing his presence. 
 The same pavement is there on which his feet once stood, 
 and on the same mosaic of Christ above the altar would his 
 eyes have fallen. When Dante was exiled in 1302 the 
 cathedral had been in progress only for six or eight years ; 
 but it is known that he took the deepest interest in its 
 construction, and we have seen the stone marking the place 
 where he sat, watching the builders. The facade of the 
 Badia of Fiesole and the church of S. Miniato can also 
 remember Dante ; no others. 
 
 Here, however, we are on that ground which is richest 
 in personal associations with him and his, for in spite of re- 
 building and certain modern changes the air is heavy with 
 antiquity in these narrow streets and passages where the 
 poet had his childhood and youth. The son of a lawyer 
 named Alighieri, Dante was born in 1265, but whether or 
 not in this Casa Dante is an open question, and it was in 
 the Baptistery that he received the name of Durante, after- 
 wards abbreviated to Dante Durante meaning enduring, 
 and Dante giving. Those who have read the " Vita Nuova," 
 either in the original or in Rossetti's translation, may be 
 surprised to learn that the boy was only nine when he first 
 met his Beatrice, who was seven, and for ever passed into 
 bondage to her. Who Beatrice was is again a mystery, 
 but it has been agreed to consider her in real life a daughter 
 of Folco Portinari, a wealthy Florentine and the founder 
 of the hospital of S. Maria Nuova, one of whose descend- 
 ants commissioned Hugo van der Goes to paint the great
 
 174 THE BADIA AND DANTE 
 
 triptych in the Uffizi. Folco's tomb is in S. Egidio, the 
 hospital church, while in the passage to the cloisters is 
 a stone figure of Monna Tessa (of whom we are about to see 
 a coloured bust in the Bargello), who was not only Bea- 
 trice's nurse (if Beatrice were truly of the Portinari) but 
 the instigator, it is said, of Folco's deed of charity. 
 
 Of Dante's rapt adoration of his lady, the " Vita Nuova" 
 tells. According to that strangest monument of devotion 
 it was not until another nine years had passed that he had 
 speech of her; and then Beatrice, meeting him in the 
 street, saluted him as she passed him with such ineffable 
 courtesy and grace that he was lifted into a seventh heaven 
 of devotion and set upon the writing of his book. The 
 two seem to have had no closer intercourse : Beatrice shone 
 distantly like a star and her lover worshipped her with in- 
 creasing loyalty and fervour, overlaying the idea of her, as 
 one might say, with gold and radiance, very much as we 
 shall see Fra Angelico adding glory to the Madonna and 
 Saints in his pictures, and with a similar intensity of ecstasy. 
 Then one day Beatrice married, and not long afterwards, 
 being always very fragile, she died, at the age of twenty- 
 three. The fact that she was no longer on earth hardly 
 affected her poet, whose worship of her had always so 
 little of a physical character ; and she continued to domi- 
 nate his thoughts. 
 
 In 1293, however, Dante married one Gemma Donati, 
 of the powerful Guelph family of that name, of which Corso 
 Donati was the turbulent head ; and by her he had many 
 children. For Gemma, however, he seems to have had no 
 affection ; and when in 1301 he left Florence, never to re- 
 turn, he left his wife for ever too. In 1289 Dante had 
 been present at the battle of Campaldino, fighting with the 
 Guelphs against the Ghibellines, and on settling down in
 
 DANTE EXILED 175 
 
 Florence and taking to politics it was as a Guelph, or 
 rather as one of that branch of the Guelph party which 
 had become White theBianchi as opposed to the other 
 party which was Black the Neri. The feuds between these 
 divisions took the place of those between the Guelphs and 
 Ghibellines, since Florence was never happy without inter- 
 nal strife, and it cannot have added to Dante's home com- 
 fort that his wife was related to Corso Donati, who led the 
 Neri and swaggered in his bullying way about the city with 
 proprietary, intolerant airs that must have been infuriating 
 to a man with Dante's stern sense of right and justice. It 
 was Corso who brought about Dante's exile ; but he him- 
 self survived only six years, and was then killed, by his own 
 wish, on his way to execution, rather than be humiliated 
 in the city in which he had swayed. Dante, whose genius 
 devised a more lasting form of reprisal than any personal 
 encounter could be, has depicted him in the "Purgatorio" 
 as on the road to Hell. 
 
 But this is going too fast. In 1300, when Dante was 
 thirty-five, he was sufficiently important to be made one 
 of the six priors of the city, and in that capacity was called 
 upon to quell a Neri and Bianchi disturbance. It is char- 
 acteristic of him that he was a party to the banishment 
 of the leaders of both factions, among whom was his closest 
 friend, Guido Cavalcanti the poet, who was one of the 
 Bianchi. Whether it was because of Guide's illness in his 
 exile, or from what motive, we shall not know; but the 
 sentence was lightened in the case of this Bianco, a circum- 
 stance which did not add to Dante's chances when the Neri, 
 having plotted successfully with Charles of Valois, captured 
 supreme power in Florence. This was in the year 1301, 
 Dante being absent from that city on an embassy to Rome 
 to obtain help for the Bianchi. He never came back ; for
 
 176 THE BADIA AND DANTE 
 
 the Neri plans succeeded ; the Neri assumed control ; and 
 in January, 1302, he was formally fined and banished. The 
 nominal charge against him was of misappropriating funds 
 while a prior; but that was merely a matter of form. 
 His real offence was in being one of the Bianchi, an enemy 
 of the Neri, and a man of parts. 
 
 In the rest of Dante's life Florence had no part, except 
 in his thoughts. How he viewed her the " Divine Comedy " 
 tells us, and that he longed to return we also know. The 
 chance was indeed once offered, but under the impossible 
 condition that he should do public penance in the Bap- 
 tistery for his offence. This he refused. He wandered 
 here and there, and settled finally in Ravenna, where he died 
 in 1321. The "Divine Comedy" anticipating printing by 
 so many years the invention did not reach Florence until 
 1471 Dante could not make much popular way as a poet 
 before that time; but to his genius certain Florentines 
 were earlier no strangers, not only by persuing MS. copies 
 of his great work, which by its richness in Florentine allu- 
 sions excited an interest apart altogether from that created 
 by its beauty, but by public lectures on the poem, delivered 
 in the churches by order of the Signoria. The first Dante 
 professor to be appointed was Giovanni Boccaccio, the 
 author of the "Decameron," who was born in 1313, eight 
 years before Dante's death, and became an enthusiast upon 
 the poet. The picture in the Duomo was placed there in 
 1465. Then came printing to Florence and Dante passed 
 quickly into his countrymen's thoughts and language. 
 
 Michelangelo, who was born in time 1475 to enjoy in 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent's house the new and precious ad- 
 vantage of printed books, became as a boy a profound stu- 
 dent of the poet, and when later an appeal was made from 
 Florence to the Pope to sanction the removal of Dante's
 
 ST. GEORGE 
 
 FROM THE MARBLE STATUE BY DONATELLO IN THE BAKGELLO 
 
 (A bronze replica is in the original niche with Donatella's 
 anginal relief beneath it, in the wall of Or San Michele)
 
 DANTE RELICS 177 
 
 bones to Florence, Michelangelo was among the signatories. 
 But it was not done. His death-mask from Ravenna is in 
 the Bargello : a few of his bones and their coffin are still 
 in Ravenna, in the monastery of Classe, piously preserved 
 in a room filled with Dante relics and literature; his 
 tomb is elsewhere at Ravenna, a shrine visited by thou- 
 sands every year. 
 
 Ever since has Dante's fame been growing, so that only 
 the Bible has led to more literature ; and to-day Florence 
 is more proud of him than any of her sons, except perhaps 
 Michelangelo. We have seen one or two reminders of him 
 already; more are here where we stand. We have seen 
 the picture in honour of him which the Republic set up in 
 the cathedral; his head on a beautiful inlaid door in the 
 Palazzo Vecchio, the building where his sentence of banish- 
 ment was devised and carried, to be followed by death 
 sentence thrice repeated (burning alive, to be exact) ; and 
 we have seen the head-quarters of the Florentine Dante 
 society in the guild house at Or San Michele. We have 
 still to see his statue opposite S. Croce, another fresco head 
 in S. Maria Novella, certain holograph relics at the library 
 at S. Lorenzo and his head again by his friend Giotto, in the 
 Bargello, where he would have been confined while waiting 
 for death had he been captured. 
 
 Dante's house has been rebuilt, very recently, and next 
 it is a newer building still, with a long inscription in 
 Italian upon it to the effect that the residence of Bella 
 and Bellincione Alighieri stood hereabouts, and in that 
 abode was Dante born. The Commune of Florence, it 
 goes on to say, having secured possession of the site, 
 built this edifice on the remains of the ancestral house as 
 fresh evidence of the public veneration of the divine poet." 
 
 N
 
 178 THE BADIA AND DANTE 
 
 The Torre della Castagna, across the way, has an inscription 
 in Italian, which may be translated thus : " This Tower, the 
 so-called Tower of the Chestnut, is the solitary remnant of 
 the head-quarters from which the Priors of the Arts gov- 
 erned Florence, before the power and glory of the Floren- 
 tine Commune procured the erection of the Palace of the 
 Signoria." 
 
 Few persons in the real city of Florence, it may be said 
 confidently, live in a house built for them ; but hereabouts 
 none at all. In fact, it is the exception anywhere near the 
 centre of the city to live in a house built less than three 
 centuries ago. Palaces abound, cut up into offices, flats, 
 rooms, and even cinema theatres. The telegraph office in 
 the Via del Proconsolo is a palace commissioned by the 
 Strozzi but never completed : hence its name, Nonfinito ; 
 next it is the superb Palazzo Quaratesi, which Brunelleschi 
 designed, now the head-quarters of a score of firms and an 
 Ecclesiastical School whence sounds of sacred song continu- 
 ally emerge. 
 
 Since we have Mino da Fiesole in our minds and are on 
 the subject of old palaces let us walk from the Dante quarter 
 in a straight line from the Corso, that very busy street of 
 small shops, across the Via del Proconsolo and down the 
 Borgo degli Albizzi to S. Ambrogio, where Mino was buried. 
 This Borgo is a street of palaces and an excellent one in 
 which to reflect upon the strange habit which wealthy 
 Florentines then indulged of setting their mansions within 
 a few feet of those opposite. Houses or rather fortresses 
 that must have cost fortunes and have been occupied by 
 families of wealth and splendour were erected so close to 
 their vis-a-vis that two carts could not pass abreast between 
 them. Side by side contiguity one can understand, but 
 not this other adjacence. Every ground floor window is 
 barred like a gaol. Those bars tell us something of the
 
 THE ANCIENT PALACES 179 
 
 perils of life in Florence in the great days of faction am- 
 bition; while the thickness of the walls and solidity of 
 construction tell us something too of the integrity of the 
 Florentine builders. These ancient palaces, one feels, 
 whatever may happen to them, can never fall to ruin. 
 Such stones as are placed one upon the other in the Pitti 
 and the Strozzi and the Riccardi nothing can displace. It 
 is an odd thought that several Florentine palaces and villas 
 built before Columbus sailed for America are now occupied 
 by rich Americans, some of them draw possibly much 
 of their income from the manufacture of steel girders for 
 sky scrapers. These ancient streets with their stern and 
 sombre palaces specially touched the imagination of Dickens 
 when he was in Florence in 1844, but in his "Pictures 
 from Italy" he gave the city only fugitive mention. The 
 old prison, which then adjoined the Palazzo Vecchio, 
 and in which the prisoners could be seen, also moved him. 
 
 The Borgo degli Albizzi, as I have said, is crowded with 
 Palazzi. No. 24 and there is something very incongruous 
 in palaces having numbers at all is memorable in history 
 as being one of the homes of the Pazzi family who organ- 
 ized the conspiracy against the Medici in 1478, as I have 
 related in the second chapter, and failed so completely. 
 Donatello designed the coat of arms here. The palace 
 at No. 18 belonged to the Altoviti. No. 12 is the Palazzo 
 Albizzi, the residence of one of the most powerful of the 
 Florentine families, whose allies were all about them in 
 this quarter, as it was wise to be. 
 
 As a change from picture galleries, I can think of nothing 
 more delightful than to wander about these ancient streets, 
 and, wherever a courtyard or garden shines, penetrate to 
 it; stopping now and again to enjoy the vista, the red 
 Duomo, or Giotto's tower, so often mounting into the sky
 
 180 THE BADIA AND DANTE 
 
 at one end, or an indigo Apennine at the other. Standing 
 in the middle of the Via Ricasoli, for example, one has 
 sight of both. 
 
 At the Piazza S. Pietro we see one of the old towers of 
 Florence, of which there were once so many, into which the 
 women and children might retreat in times of great danger, 
 and here too is a series of arches which fruit and vegetable 
 shops make gay. 
 
 The next Piazza is that of S. Ambrogio. This church 
 is interesting not only for doing its work in a poor quarter 
 one has the feeling at once that it is a right church 
 in the right place but as containing, as I have said, the 
 grave of Mino da Fiesole : Mino de' Poppi detto da Fiesole, 
 as the floor tablet has it. Over the altar of Mine's little 
 chapel is a large tabernacle from his hand, in which the 
 gayest little Boy gives the benediction, own brother to that 
 one by Desiderio at S. Lorenzo. The tabernacle must be 
 one of the master's finest works, and beneath it is a relief in 
 which a priest pours something perhaps the very blood 
 of Christ which is kept here from one chalice to another 
 held by a kneeling woman, surrounded by other kneeling 
 women, which is a marvel of flowing beauty and life. The 
 lines of it are peculiarly lovely. 
 
 On the wall of the same little chapel is a fresco by 
 Cosimo Rosselli which must once have been a delight, rep- 
 resenting a procession of Corpus Christi this chapel being 
 dedicated to the miracle of the Sacrament and it contains, 
 according to Vasari, a speaking likeness of Pico della 
 Mirandola. Other graves in the church are those of 
 Cronaca, the architect of the Palazzo Vecchio's great 
 Council Room, a friend of Savonarola and Rosselli's nephew 
 by marriage ; and Verrocchio, the sculptor, whose beauti- 
 ful work we are now to see in the Bargello. It is said that
 
 THE BADIA AND THE BARGELLO FROM THE PIAZZA S. FIRENZE
 
 WAYSIDE MASTERPIECES 181 
 
 Lorenzo di Credi also lies here, and Albertinelli, who gave 
 up the brush for innkeeping. 
 
 Opposite the church, on a house at the corner of the 
 Borgo S. Croce and the Via de' Macci, is a della Robbia 
 saint one of many such mural works of art in Florence. 
 Thus, at the corner of the Via Cavour and the Via de' 
 Pucci, opposite the Riccardi palace, is a beautiful Madonna 
 and Child by Donatello. In the Via Zannetti, which leads 
 out of the Via Cerretani, is a very pretty example by Mino, 
 a few houses on the right. These are sculpture. And 
 everywhere in the older streets you may see shrines built 
 into the wall : there is even one in the prison, in the Via 
 dell' Agnolo, once the convent of the Murate, where Cath- 
 erine de' Medici was imprisoned as a girl; but many of 
 them are covered with glass which has been allowed to 
 become black. 
 
 A word or two on S. Egidio, the church of the great 
 hospital of S. Maria Nuova, might round off this chapter, 
 since it was Folco Portinari, Beatrice's father, who founded 
 it. The hospital stands in a rather forlorn square a few 
 steps from the Duomo, down the Via dell' Orivolo and 
 then the first to the left ; and it extends right through to 
 the Via degli Alfani in cloisters and ramifications. The 
 facade is in a state of decay, old frescoes peeling off it, but 
 one picture has been enclosed for protection a gay and 
 nice busy scene of the consecration of the church by Pope 
 Martin V. Within, it is a church of the poor, notable for 
 its general florid comfort (comparatively) and Folco's gothic 
 tomb. In the chancel is a pretty little tabernacle by Mino, 
 which used to have a bronze door by Ghiberti, but has it 
 no longer, and a very fine della Robbia Madonna and 
 Child, probably by Andrea. Behind a grille, upstairs, sit 
 the hospital nurses. In the adjoining cloisters one of the
 
 182 THE BADIA AND DANTE 
 
 high roads to the hospital proper is the ancient statue 
 of old Monna Tessa, Beatrice's nurse, and, in a niche, 
 a pretty symbolical painting of Charity by that curious 
 painter Giovanni di San Giovanni. It was in the hospital 
 that the famous Van der Goes triptych used to hang. 
 
 A tablet on a house opposite S. Egidio, a little to the 
 right, states that it was there that Ghiberti made the 
 Baptistery gates which Michelangelo considered fit to be 
 the portals of Paradise.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE BARGELLO 
 
 Plastic art Blood-soaked stones The faithful artists Michel- 
 angelo Italian custodians The famous Davids Michelangelo's 
 tondo Brutus Benedetto da Rovezzano Donatello's life-work 
 The S. George Verrocchio Ghiberti and Brunelleschi and the Baptis- 
 tery doors Benvenuto Cellini John of Bologna Antonio Pollaiuolo 
 Verrocchio again Mino da Fiesole The Florentine wealth of sculp- 
 ture Beautiful ladies The della Robbias South Kensington and 
 the Louvre. 
 
 BEFORE my last visit but one to Florence, plastic art 
 was less attractive to me than pictorial art. But now 
 I am not sure. At any rate when, here in England, I think 
 of Florence, as so often I do, I find myself visiting in 
 imagination the Bargello before the Uffizi. Pictures in 
 any number can bewilder and dazzle as much as they de- 
 light. The eye tires. And so, it is true, can a multiplic- 
 ity of antique statuary such as one finds at the Vatican 
 or at the Louvre; but a small collection of Renaissance 
 work, so soft and human, as at the Bargello, is not only 
 joy-giving but refreshing too. The soft contours soothe 
 as well as enrapture the eye: the tenderness of the 
 Madonnas, the gentleness of the Florentine ladies and 
 youths, as Verrocchio and Mino da Fiesole, Donatello, and 
 Pollaiuolo, moulded them, calm one where the perfection 
 of Phidias and Praxiteles excites. Hence the very special 
 charm of the Bargello, whose plastic treasures are compar- 
 
 183
 
 184 THE BARGELLO 
 
 atively few and picked, as against the heaped profusion of 
 paint in the Uffizi and the Pitti. It pairs off rather with 
 the Accademia, and has this further point in common with 
 that choicest of galleries, that Michelangelo's chisel is 
 represented in both. 
 
 The Bargello is at the corner of the Via Ghibellina in 
 the narrow Via del Proconsolo so narrow that if you take 
 one step off the pavement a tram may easily sweep you 
 into eternity ; so narrow also that the real dignity of the 
 Bargello is never to be properly seen, and one thinks 
 of it rather for its inner court and staircase and its strong 
 tower than for its massive facades. Its history is soaked 
 in blood. It was built in the middle of the thirteenth 
 century as the residence of the chief magistrate of the city, 
 the Capitano del popolo, or Podesta, first appointed soon 
 after the return of the Guelphs in 1251, and it so remained, 
 with such natural Florentine vicissitudes as destruction by 
 mobs and fire, for four hundred years, when, in 1574, it 
 was converted into a prison and place of execution and the 
 head-quarters of the police, and changed its name from the 
 Palazzo del Podesta to that by which it is now known, 
 so called after the Bargello, or chief of the police. 
 
 It is indeed fortunate that no rioters succeeded in ob- 
 literating Giotto's fresco in the Bargello chapel, which he 
 painted probably in 1300, when his friend Dante was a 
 Prior of the city. Giotto introduced the protrait of Dante 
 which has drawn so many people to this little room, to- 
 gether with portraits of Corso Donati, and Brunetto 
 Latini, Dante's tutor. Whitewash covered it for two 
 centuries. Dante's head has been restored. 
 
 It was in 1857 that the Bargello was again converted, 
 this time to its present gracious office of preserving the 
 very flower 'of Renaissance plastic art.
 
 THE COURTYARD 185 
 
 Passing through the entrance hall, which has a remark- 
 able collection of Medicean armour and weapons, and in 
 which (I have read but not seen) is an oubliette under one 
 of the great pillars, the famous court is gained and the fa- 
 mous staircase. Of this court what can I say ? Its quality 
 is not to be communicated in words ; and even the photo- 
 graphs of it that are sold have to be made from pictures, 
 which the assiduous Signer Giuliani, among others, is al- 
 ways so faithfully painting, stone for stone. One forgets 
 all the horrors that once were enacted here the execution 
 of honourable Florentine patriots whose only offence was 
 that in their service of this proud and beautiful city they 
 differed from those in power ; one thinks only of the soft 
 light on the immemorial walls, the sturdy graceful columns, 
 the carved escutcheons, the resolute steps, the spaciousness 
 and stern calm of it all. 
 
 In the colonnade are a number of statues, the most famous 
 of which is perhaps the "Dying Adonis" which Baedeker 
 gives to Michelangelo but the curator to Vincenzo di Rossi ; 
 an ascription that would annoy Michelangelo exceedingly, 
 if it were a mistake, since Rossi was a pupil of his enemy, 
 the absurd Bandinelli. Mr. W. G. Waters, in his 
 "Italian Sculptors," considers not only that Michelangelo 
 was the sculptor, but that the work was intended to form 
 part of the tomb of Pope Julius. In the second room 
 opposite the main entrance across the courtyard, we come 
 however to Michelangelo authentic and supreme, for here 
 are his small David, his Brutus, his Bacchus, and a tondo 
 of the Madonna and Child. 
 
 According to Baedeker the Bacchus and the David 
 revolve. Certainly they are on revolving stands, but to say 
 that they revolve is to disregard utterly the character of 
 the Italian official. A catch holds each in its place, and
 
 186 THE BARGELLO 
 
 any effort to release this or to induce the custodian to release 
 it is equal y futile "Chiuso" (closed), he replies, and that 
 is final. Useless to explain that the backs of statues can 
 be beautiful as the front; that one of the triumphs of 
 great statuary is its equa perfection from every point; 
 that the revolving stand was not made for a joke but for 
 a serious purpose. "Chiuso," he replies. The museum 
 custodians of Italy are either like this jaded figures of 
 apathy or they are enthusiasts. To each enthusiast 
 there are ninety -nine of the other, who either sit in a kind 
 of stupor and watch you with sullen suspicion or clear their 
 throats as no gentleman should. The result is that when 
 one meets the enthusiasts one remembers them. There is 
 a little dark fellow in the Brera at Milan whose zeal in dis- 
 playing the merits of Mantegna's foreshortened Christ is 
 as unforgettable as a striking piece of character-acting in a 
 theatre. There is a more reserved but hardly less appre- 
 ciative official in the Accademia at Bologna with a genuine 
 if incommunicable passion for Guido Reni. And, lastly, 
 there is Alfred Branconi, at S. Croce, with his continual 
 and rapturous "It is faine ! It is faine !" but he is a 
 private guide. The Bargello custodians belong to the other 
 camp. 
 
 The fondness of sculptors for David as a subject is due 
 to the fact that the Florentines, who had spent so much of 
 their time under tyrants and so much of their blood in re- 
 sisting them, were captivated by the idea of this stripling 
 freeing his compatriots from Goliath and the Philistines. 
 David, as I have said in my remarks on the Piazza della 
 Signoria, stood to them, with Judith, as a champion of 
 liberty. He was alluring also on account of his youth, so 
 attractive to Renaissance sculptors and poets, and the 
 Florentines' admiration was not diminished by the circum-
 
 MADONNA AND CHILD 
 
 FROM THE RELIEF BY VERROCCHIO IN THE BARGEIXO
 
 THE DAVIDS 187 
 
 stance that his task was a singularly light one, since he 
 never came to close quarters with his antagonist at all and 
 had the Lord of Hosts on his side. A David of mythol- 
 ogy, Perseus, another Florentine hero, a stripling with 
 what looked like a formidable enemy, also enjoyed 
 supernatural assistance. 
 
 David appealed to the greatest sculptors of all to Mi- 
 chelangelo, to Donatello, and to Verrocchio ; and Michelan- 
 gelo made two figures, one of which is here and the other at 
 the Accademia, and Donatello two figures, both of which are 
 here, so that, Verrocchio's example being also here, very 
 interesting comparisons are possible. 
 
 Personally I put Michelangelo's small David first ; it is 
 the one in which, apart from its beauty, you can best be- 
 lieve. His colossal David seems to me one of the most 
 glorious things :n the world ; but it is not David ; not the 
 simple, ruddy shepherd lad of the Bible. This David could 
 obviously defeat anybody. Donatello's more famous 
 David, in the hat, upstairs, is the most charming creature 
 you ever saw, but it had been far better to call him some- 
 thing else. Both he and Verrocchio's David, also up- 
 stairs, are young tournament nobles rather than shepherd 
 lads who have slung a stone at a Philistine bully. I see 
 them both but particularly perhaps Verrocchio's in the 
 intervals of strife most acceptably holding up a lady's train, 
 or lying at her feet reading one of Boccaccio's stories ; 
 neither could ever have watched a flock. Donatello's second 
 David, behind the more famous one, has more reality; 
 but I would put Michelangelo's smaller one first. And 
 what beautiful marble it is so rich and warm ! 
 
 One point which both Donatello's and Verrocchio's 
 David emphasizes is the gulf that was fixed between the 
 Biblical and religious conception of the youthful psalmist
 
 188 THE BARGELLO 
 
 and that of these sculptors of the Renaissance. One can, 
 indeed, never think of Donatello as a religious artist. 
 Serious, yes ; but not religious, or at any rate not religious 
 in the too common sense of the word, in the sense of ap- 
 pertaining to a special reverential mood distinguished from 
 ordinary moods of dailiness. His David, as I have said, is 
 a comely, cultured boy, who belongs to the very flower of 
 chivalry and romance. Verrocchio's is akin to him, but he 
 has less radiant mastery. Donatello's David might be the 
 young lord ; Verrocchio's, his page. Here we see the new 
 spirit, the Renaissance, at work, for though religion called 
 it into being and the Church continued to be its patron, it 
 rapidly divided into two halves, and while the painters 
 were bringing all their genius to glorify sacred history, the 
 scholars were endeavouring to humanize it. In this task 
 they had no such allies as the sculptors, and particularly 
 Donatello, who, always thinking independently and vigor- 
 ously, was their best friend. Donatello's David fought 
 also more powerfully for the modern spirit (had he known 
 it) than ever he could have done in real life with such a 
 large sword in such delicate hands ; for by being the first 
 nude statue of a Biblical character, he made simpler the way 
 to all humanists in whatever medium they worked. 
 
 Michelangelo was not often tender. Profoundly sad he 
 could be : indeed his own head, in bronze, at the Acca- 
 demia, might stand for melancholy and bitter world- 
 knowledge; but seldom tender; yet the Madonna and 
 Child in the circular bas-relief in this ground-floor room 
 have something very nigh tenderness, and a greatness that 
 none of the other Italian sculptors, however often they 
 attempted this subject, ever reached. The head of Mary 
 in this relief is, I think, one of the most beautiful things 
 in Florence, none the less so for the charming head-dress
 
 MICHELANGELO 189 
 
 which the great austere artist has given her. The Child is 
 older than is usual in such groups, and differs in another 
 way, for, tiring of a reading lesson, He has laid His arm 
 upon the book : a pretty touch. 
 
 Michelangelo's Bacchus, an early work, is opposite. 
 It is a remarkable proof of his extraordinary range that 
 the same little room should contain the David, the 
 Madonna, the Brutus, and the Bacchus. In David one 
 can believe, as I have said, as the young serious stalwart 
 of the Book of Kings. The Madonna, although perhaps 
 a shade too intellectual or at any rate more intellectual 
 and commanding than the other great artists have ac- 
 customed us to think of her has a sweet gravity and 
 power and almost domestic tenderness. The Brutus is 
 powerful and modern and realistic ; while Bacchus is steeped 
 in the Greek spirit, and the little faun hiding behind him 
 is the very essence of mischief. Add to these the fluid 
 vigour of the unfinished relief of the Martyrdom of S. 
 Andrew, No. 126, and you have five examples of human 
 accomplishment that would be enough without the other 
 Florentine evidences at all the Medici chapel tombs and 
 the Duomo Pieta. 
 
 The inscription under the Brutus says : " While the 
 sculptor was carving the statue of Brutus in marble, he 
 thought of the crime and held his hand" ; and the theory 
 is that Michelangelo was at work upon this head at Rome 
 when, in 1537, Lorenzino de' Medici, who claimed to be a 
 modern Brutus, murdered Alessandro de' Medici. But it 
 might easily have been that the sculptor was concerned 
 only with Brutus the friend of Caesar and revolted at his 
 crime. The circumstance that the head is unfinished 
 matters nothing. Once seen it can never be forgotten. 
 
 Although Michelangelo is, as always, the dominator,
 
 190 THE BARGELLO 
 
 this room has other possessions to make it a resort of 
 visitors. At the end is a fireplace from the Casa Borg- 
 herini, by Benedetto da Rovezzano, which probably has not 
 an equal, although the pietra serena of which it is made is 
 a horrid hue ; and on the walls are fragments of the tomb 
 of S. Giovanni Gualberto at Vallombrosa, designed by 
 the same artist but never finished. Benedetto (1474- 
 1556) has a peculiar interest to the English in having 
 come to England in 1524 at the bidding of Cardinal 
 Wolsey to design a tomb for that proud prelate. On 
 Wolsey's disgrace, Henry VIII decided that the tomb 
 should be continued for his own bones; but the sculptor 
 died first and it was unfinished. Later Charles I cast 
 envious eyes upon it and wished to lie within it ; but cir- 
 cumstances deprived him too of the honour. Finally, 
 after having been despoiled of certain bronze additions, 
 the sarcophagus was used for the remains of Nelson, which 
 it now holds, in St. Paul's crypt. The Borgherini fireplace 
 is a miracle of exquisite work, everything having received 
 thought, the delicate traceries on the pillars not less than 
 the frieze. The fireplace is in perfect condition, not one 
 head having been knocked off, but the Gualberto reliefs 
 are badly damaged, yet full of life. The angel under the 
 saint's bier in No. 104 almost moves. 
 
 In this room look also at the beautiful blades of barley 
 on the pillars in the corner close to Brutus, and the lovely 
 frieze by an unknown hand above Michelangelo's Martyr- 
 dom of S. Andrew, and the carving upon the two niches 
 for statues on either side of the door. 
 
 The little room through which one passes to the Michel- 
 angelos may well be lingered in. There is a gravely fine 
 floor-tomb of a nun to the left of the door No. 20 
 which one would like to see in its proper position instead
 
 DONATELLO 191 
 
 of upright against the wall ; and a stone font in the middle 
 which is very fine. There is also a beautiful tomb by 
 Giusti da Settignano, and the iron gates are worth atten- 
 tion. 
 
 From Michelangelo let us ascend the stairs, past the 
 splendid gates, to Donatello ; and here a word about that 
 sculptor, for though we meet him again and again in Flor- 
 ence (yet never often enough) it is in the upper room in 
 the Bargello that he is enthroned. Of Donatello there is 
 nothing known but good, and good of the most captivating 
 variety. Not only was he a great creative genius, equally 
 the first modern sculptor and the sanest, but he was him- 
 self tall and comely, open-handed, a warm friend, humorous, 
 and of vigorous intellect. A hint of the affection in which 
 he was held is obtained from his name Donatello, which is 
 a pet diminutive of Donate his full style being Donato di 
 Niccolo di Betto Bardi. Born in 1386, four years before 
 Fra Angelico and nearly a century after Giotto, he was the 
 son of a well-to-do wool-comber who was no stranger to the 
 perils of political energy in these times. Of Donatello's 
 youth little is known, but it is almost certain that he helped 
 Ghiberti with his first Baptistery doors, being thirteen 
 when that sculptor began upon them. At sixteen he was 
 himself enrolled as a sculptor. It was soon after this that, 
 as I have said in the first chapter, he accompanied his friend 
 Brunelleschi, who was thirteen years his senior, to Rome ; 
 and returning alone he began work in Florence in earnest, 
 both for the cathedral and campanile and for Or San 
 Michele. In 1425 he took into partnership Michelozzo, 
 and became, with him, a protege of Cosimo de' Medici, 
 with whom both continued on friendly terms for the rest 
 of their lives. In 1433 he was in Rome again, probably 
 not sorry to be there since Cosimo had been banished and
 
 192 THE BARGELLO 
 
 had taken Michelozzo with him. On the triumphant re- 
 turn of Cosimo in 1434 Donatello's most prosperous period 
 began ; for he was intimate with the most powerful man 
 in Florence, was honoured by him, and was himself at the 
 useful age of forty -four. 
 
 Of Donatello as an innovator I have said something 
 above, in considering the Florentine Davids, but he was 
 also the inventor of that low relief in which his school worked, 
 called rilievo stiacciato, of which there are some excellent 
 examples at South Kensington In Ghiberti's high relief, 
 breaking out often into completely detached figures, he 
 was also a master, as we shall see at S. Lorenzo. But his 
 greatest claim to distinction is his psychological insight 
 allied to perfect mastery of form His statues were not 
 only the first really great statues since the Greeks, but are 
 still (always leaving Michelangelo on one side as abnormal) 
 the greatest modern examples judged upon a realistic basis. 
 Here in the Bargello, in originals and in casts, he may be 
 adequately appreciated ; but to Padua his admirers must 
 certainly go, for the bronze equestrian statue of Gatta- 
 melata is there. Donatello was painted by his friend 
 Masaccio at the Carmine, but the fresco has perished. He 
 is to be seen in the Uffizi portico, although that is nrobably 
 a fancy representation ; and again on a tablet in the wall 
 opposite the apse of the Duomo. The only contemporary 
 portrait (and this is very doubtful), is in a picture in the 
 Louvre given to Uccello a serious, thoughtful, bearded 
 face with steady, observant eyes : one of five heads, the others 
 being Giotto, Manetti, Brunelleschi, and Uccello himself. 
 
 Donatello, who never married, but lived for much of his 
 life with his mother and sister, died at a great age, cared 
 for both by Cosimo de' Medici and his son and successor 
 Piero. He was buried with Cosimo in S. Lorenzo. Vasari
 
 MADONNA AND CHILD 
 
 FROM THE RELIEF BY LUCA DEIAA ROBBIA IN THE BARGELLO
 
 S. GEORGE 193 
 
 tells us that he was free, affectionate, and courteous, but of 
 a high spirit and capable of sudden anger, as when he de- 
 stroyed with a blow a head he had made for a mean patron 
 who objected to its very reasonable price. "He thought," 
 says Vasari, "nothing of money, keeping it in a basket 
 suspended from the ceiling, so that all his workmen and 
 friends took what they wanted without saying anything." 
 He was as careless of dress as great artists have ever been, 
 and of a handsome robe which Cosimo gave him he com- 
 plained that it spoiled his work. When he was dying his 
 relations affected great concern in the hope of inheriting 
 a farm at Prato, but he told them that he had left it to 
 the peasant who had always toiled there, and he would not 
 alter his will. 
 
 The Donatello collection in the Bargello has been made 
 representative by the addition of casts. The originals 
 number ten : there is also a cast of the equestrian statue 
 of Gattemalata at Padua, which is, I suppose, next to Ver- 
 rocchio's Bartolommeo Colleoni at Venice, the finest eques- 
 trian statue that exists; heads from various collections, 
 including M. Dreyfus' in Paris, although Dr. Bode now 
 gives that charming example to Donatello's pupil Desiderio ; 
 and various other masterpieces elsewhere. But it is the 
 originals that chiefly interest us, and first of these in bronze 
 is the David, of which I have already spoken, and first 
 of these in marble the S. George. This George is just 
 such a resolute, clean, warlike idealist as one dreams him. 
 He would kill a dragon, it is true; but he would eat and 
 sleep after it and tell the story modestly and not without 
 humour By a happy chance the marble upon which 
 Donatello worked had light veins running through it just 
 where the head is, with the result that the face seems to 
 possess a radiance of its own. This statue was made for
 
 194 THE BARGELLO 
 
 Or San Michele, where it used to stand until 1891, when the 
 present bronze replica that takes its place was made. The 
 spirited marble frieze underneath it at Or San Michele is the 
 original and has been there for centuries. It was this S. 
 George whom Ruskin took as the head and inspiration of 
 his Saint George's Guild. 
 
 The David is interesting not only in itself but as being 
 the first isolated statue of modern times. It was made for 
 Cosimo de' Medici, to stand in the courtyard of the Medici 
 palace (now the Riccardi), and until that time, since an- 
 tiquity, no one had made a statue to stand on a pedestal 
 and be observable from all points. Hitherto modern sculp- 
 tors had either made reliefs or statues for niches. It was 
 also the first nude statue of modern times ; and once again 
 one has the satisfaction of recognizing that the first was 
 the best. At any rate, no later sculptor has made anything 
 more charming than this figure, or more masterly within 
 its limits. 
 
 After the S. George and the bronze David, the two 
 most memorable things are the adorable bronze Amorino 
 in its quaint little trousers or perhaps not Amorino at 
 all, since it is trampling on a snake, which such little 
 sprites did not do and the coloured terra-cotta bust called 
 Niccolo da Uzzano, so like life as to be after a while dis- 
 concerting. The sensitiveness of the mouth can never have 
 been excelled. The other originals include the gaunt John 
 the Baptist with its curious little moustache, so far re- 
 moved from the Amorino and so admirable a proof of 
 the sculptor's vigilant thoughtfulness in all he did ; the re- 
 lief of the infant John, one of the most animated of the 
 heads (the Baptist at all periods of his life being a favourite 
 with this sculptor) ; three bronze heads, of which those of 
 the Young Gentleman and the Roman Emperor remain
 
 VERROCCHIO 195 
 
 most clearly in my mind. But the authorship of the Roman 
 Emperor is very doubtful. And lastly the glorious Mar- 
 zocco the lion from the front of the Palazzo Vecchio, firmly 
 holding the Florentine escutcheon against the world. 
 Florence has other Donatellos the Judith in the Loggia 
 de' Lanzi, the figures on Giotto's campanile, the Annun- 
 ciation in S. Croce, and above all the cantoria in the 
 Museum of the Cathedral ; but this room holds most of his 
 strong sweet genius. Here (for there are seldom more than 
 two or three persons in it) you can be on terms with him. 
 
 After the Donatellos we should see the other Renaissance 
 sculpture. But first the Carrand collection of ivories, 
 pictures, jewels, carvings, vestments, plaquettes, and ob- 
 jets d'art, bequeathed to Florence in 1888. Everything 
 here is good and worth examination. Among the out- 
 standing things is a plaquette, No. 393, a Satyr and a 
 Bacchante, attributed to Donatello, under the title "Alle- 
 gory of Spring," which is the work of a master and a very riot 
 of mythological imagery. The neighbouring plaquettes, 
 many of them of the school of Donatello, are all beautiful. 
 
 We now find the sixth salon, to see Verrocchio's David, 
 of which I have already spoken. This wholly charming 
 boy, a little nearer life perhaps than Donatello's, although 
 not quite so radiantly distinguished, illustrates the associa- 
 tion of Verrocchio and Leonardo as clearly as any of the 
 paintings do; for the head is sheer Leonardo. At the 
 Palazzo Vecchio we saw Verrocchio's boy with the dolphin 
 that happy bronze lyric ' and outside Or San Michele 
 his Christ and S. Thomas, in Donatello and Michelozzo's 
 niche, with the flying cherubim beneath. But as with 
 Donatello, so with Verrocchio, one must visit the Bargello 
 to see him, in Florence, most intimately. For here are not 
 only his David, which once known can never be forgotten
 
 196 THE BARGELLO 
 
 and is as full of the Renaissance spirit as anything ever 
 fashioned, whether in bronze, marble, or paint ; but up- 
 stairs certain other wonderfully beautiful things to 
 which we shall come, and, that being so, I would like 
 here to say a little about their author. 
 
 Verrocchio is a nickname, signifying the true eye. 
 Andrea's real name was de' Cioni ; he is known to fame as 
 Andrea of the true eye, and since he had acquired this 
 style at a time when every eye was true enough, his must 
 have been true indeed. It is probable that he was a pupil 
 of Donatello, who in 1435, when Andrea was born, was forty- 
 nine, and in time he was to become the master of Leonardo : 
 thus are the great artists related. The history of Floren- 
 tine art is practically the history of a family; one artist 
 leads to the other the genealogy of genius. The story 
 goes that it was the excellence of the angel contributed by 
 Leonardo to his master's picture of the Baptism of Christ 
 (at the Accademia) which decided Verrocchio to paint no 
 more, just as Ghiberti's superiority in the relief of Abraham 
 and Isaac drove Brunelleschi from sculpture. If this be so, 
 it accounts for the extraordinarily small number of pictures 
 by him. Like many artists of his day Verrocchio was also a 
 goldsmith, but he was versatile above most, even when 
 versatility was a habit, and excelled also as a musician. 
 Both Piero de' Medici and Lorenzo employed him to de- 
 sign their tournament costumes ; and it was for Lorenzo 
 that he made this charming David and the boy and the 
 dolphin. His greatest work of all is the bronze equestrian 
 statue of Bartolommeo Colleoni in Venice, the finest thing 
 of its kind in the world, and so glorious and exciting indeed 
 that every city should have a cast of it in a conspicuous 
 position just for the good of the people. It was while at 
 work upon this that Verrocchio died, at the age of fifty-
 
 THE RIVALS 197 
 
 three. His body was brought from Venice by his pupil 
 Lorenzo di Credi, who adored him, and was buried in S. 
 Ambrogio in Florence. Lorenzo di Credi painted his por- 
 trait, which is now in the Uffizi a plump, undistinguished 
 looking little man. 
 
 In the David room are also the extremely interesting 
 rival bronze reliefs of Abraham sacrificing Isaac, which 
 were made by Ghiberti and Brunelleschi as trials of skill 
 to see which would win the commission to design the new 
 gates of the Baptistery, as I have told earlier in this 
 book. Six competitors entered for the contest ; but Ghi- 
 berti's and Brunelleschi's efforts were alone considered 
 seriously. A comparison of these two reliefs proves that 
 Ghiberti, at any rate, had a finer sense of grouping. He 
 filled the space at his disposal more easily and his hand 
 was more fluent ; but there is a very engaging vivacity in 
 the other work, the realistic details of which are so arrest- 
 ing as to make one regret that Brunelleschi had for sculpture 
 so little time. In S. Maria Novella is that crucifix in wood 
 which he carved for his friend Donatello, but his only 
 other sculptured work in Florence is the door of his beauti- 
 ful Pazzi chapel in the cloisters of S. Croce. Of Ghiberti's 
 Baptistery gates I have said more elsewhere. Enough here 
 to add that the episode of Abraham and Isaac does not 
 occur in them. 
 
 This little room also has a Cassa Reliquiaria by Ghi- 
 berti, below a fine relief by Bertoldo, Michelangelo's 
 master in sculpture, representing a battle between the 
 Romans and the Barbarians ; cases of exquisite bronzes ; the 
 head, in bronze (No. 25) of an old placid, shrewd woman, 
 executed from a death-mask, which the photographers call 
 Contessina de' Bardi, wife of Cosimo de' Medici, by Dona- 
 tello, but which cannot be so, since the sculptor died first ;
 
 198 THE BARGELLO 
 
 heads of Apollo and two babies, over the Ghiberti and 
 Brunelleschi competition reliefs ; a crucifixion by Bertoldo ; 
 a row of babies representing the triumph of Bacchus; 
 and below these a case of medals and plaquettes, every one 
 a masterpiece. 
 
 The next room, Sala VII, is apportioned chiefly between 
 Cellini and Gian or Giovanni da Bologna, the two 
 sculptors who dominate the Loggia de' Lanzi. Here we 
 may see models for Cellini's Perseus in bronze and wax 
 and also for the relief of the rescue of Andromeda, under 
 the statue; his Cosimo I, with the wart (omitted by 
 Bandinelli in the head downstairs, which pairs with 
 Michelangelo's Brutus) ; and various smaller works. But 
 personally I find that Cellini will not do in such near 
 proximity to Donatello, Verrocchio, and their gentle fol- 
 lowers. He was, of course, far later. He was not born 
 (in 1500) until Donatello had been dead thirty-four years, 
 Mino da Fiesole sixteen years, Desiderio da Settignano 
 thirty-six years, and Verrocchio twelve years. He thus did 
 not begin to work until the finer impulses of the Renais- 
 sance were exhausted. Giovanni da Bologna, although 
 he, it is true, was even later (1524-1608), I find more sym- 
 pathetic ; while Landor boldly proclaimed him superior to 
 Michelangelo. His "Mercury," in the middle of the /oom, 
 which one sees counterfeited in all the statuary shops of 
 Florence, is truly very nearly light as air. If ever bronze 
 floated, this figure does. His cherubs and dolphins are 
 very skilful and merry; his turkey and eagle and other 
 animals indicate that he had humility. John of Bologna 
 is best known at Florence by his Rape of the Sabines and 
 Hercules and Nessus in the Loggia de' Lanzi; but the 
 Boboli gardens have a fine group of Oceanus and river 
 gods by him in the midst of a lake. Before leaving this
 
 THE "YOUNG WARRIOR" 199 
 
 room look at the relief of Christ in glory (No. 35) to the left 
 of the door, by Jacopo Sansovino, a rival of Michelangelo, 
 which is most admirable, and at the case of bronze an- 
 imals by Pietro Tacca, John of Bologna's pupil, who made 
 the famous boar (a copy of an ancient marble) at the 
 Mercato Nuovo and the reliefs for the pediment of the 
 statue of Cosimo I (by his master) in the Piazza della 
 Signoria. But I believe that the most beautiful thing in 
 this room is the bronze figure for the tomb of Mariano 
 Sozzino by Lorenzo di Pietro. 
 
 Before we look at the della Robbias, which are in the 
 two large rooms upstairs, let us finish with the marble and 
 terra-cotta statuary in the two smaller rooms to the left as 
 one passes through the first della Robbia room. In the 
 first of them, corresponding to the room with Verrocchio's 
 David downstairs, we find Verrocchio again, with a bust of 
 Piero di Lorenzo de' Medici (whom Botticelli painted in 
 the Uffizi holding a medal in his hand) and a most ex- 
 quisite Madonna and Child in terra-cotta from S. Maria 
 Nuova. (This is on a hinge, for better light, but the 
 official skies will fall if you touch it.) Here also is the 
 bust of a young warrior by Antonio Pollaiuolo (1429-1498), 
 who was Verrocchio's closest rival and one of Ghiberti's 
 assistants for the second Baptistery doors. His greatest 
 work is at Rome, but this bust is indescribably charming, 
 and the softness of the boy's contours is almost of life. 
 It is sometimes called Giuliano de' Medici. Other beau- 
 tiful objects in the room are the terra-cotta Madonna 
 and Child by Andrea Sansovino (1460-1529), Pollaiuolo 's 
 pupil, which is as radiant although not so domestically 
 lovely as Verrocchio's ; the bust by Benedetto da Maiano 
 (1442-1497) of Pietro Mellini, that shrewd and wrinkled 
 patron of the Church who presented to S. Croce the famous
 
 200 THE BARGELLO 
 
 pulpit by this sculptor ; an ancient lady, by the door, in 
 coloured terra-cotta, who is thought to represent Monna 
 Tessa, the nurse of Dante's Beatrice; and certain other 
 works by that delightful and prolific person Ignoto Fioren- 
 tino, who here, and in the next room, which we now enter, 
 is at his best. 
 
 This next priceless room is chiefly memorable for Ver- 
 rocchio and Mino da Fiesole. We come to Verrocchio at 
 once, on the left, where his relief of the death of Francesca 
 Pitti Tornabuoni (on a tiny bed only half as long as her- 
 self) may be seen. This poor lady, who died in childbirth, 
 was the wife of Giovanni Tornabuoni, and he it was who 
 employed Ghirlandaio to make the frescoes in the choir of 
 S. Maria Novella. (I ought, however, to state that Miss 
 Cruttwell, in her monograph on Verrocchio, questions both 
 the subject and the artist.) Close by we have two more 
 works by Verrocchio No. 180, a marble relief of the 
 Madonna and Child, the Madonna's dress fastened by the 
 prettiest of brooches, and She herself possessing a dainty 
 sad head and the long fingers that Verrocchio so favoured, 
 which we find again in the famous " Gentildonna " (No. 181) 
 next it that Florentine lady with flowers in her bosom, 
 whose contours are so exquisite and who has such pretty 
 shoulders. 
 
 Near by is the little eager S. John the Baptist as a boy by 
 Antonio Rossellino (1427-1478), and on the next wall the 
 same sculptor's circular relief of the Madonna adoring, in 
 a border of cherubs. In the middle is the masterpiece 
 of Jacopo Sansovino (1486-1570) : a Bacchus, so strangely 
 like a genuine antique, full of Greek lightness and grace. 
 And then we come back to the wall in which the door is, 
 and find more works from the delicate hand of Mino da 
 Fiesole, whom we in London are fortunate in being able to
 
 BUST OF A BOY (SOMETIMES CALLED THE BOY CHRIST) 
 
 BY LUCA OR ANDREA DELIA ROBBIA IN THE BARGELLO
 
 MINO AGAIN 201 
 
 study as near home as at the Victoria and Albert Museum. 
 Of Mino I have said more both at the Badia and at Fiesole. 
 But here I might remark again that he was born in 1431 
 and died in 1484, and was the favourite pupil of Desi- 
 derio da Settignano, who was in his turn the favourite 
 pupil of Donatello. 
 
 In the little church of S. Ambrogio we have seen a tablet 
 to the memory of Mino, who lies there, not far from the 
 grave of Verrocchio, whom he most nearly approached in 
 feeling, although their ideal type of woman differed in 
 everything save the slenderness of the fingers. The Bar- 
 gello has both busts and reliefs by him, all distinguished 
 and sensitive and marked by Mine's profound refinement. 
 The Madonna and Child in No. 232 are peculiarly beauti- 
 ful and notable both for high relief and shallow relief, and 
 the Child in No. 193 is even more charming. For delicacy 
 and vivacity in marble portraiture it would be impossible 
 to surpass the head of Rinaldo della Luna; and the two 
 Medicis are wonderfully real. Everything in Mine's work 
 is thoughtful and exquisite, while the unusual type of face 
 which so attracted him gives him freshness too. 
 
 This room and that next it illustrate the wealth of fine 
 sculptors which Florence had in the fifteenth century, for 
 the works by the unknown hands are in some cases hardly 
 less beautiful and masterly than those by the known. Look, 
 for example, at the fleur-de-lis over the door; at the 
 Madonna and Child next it, on the right; at the girl's 
 head next to that ; at the baby girl at the other end of the 
 room ; and at the older boy and his pendant. But one does 
 not need to come here to form an idea of the wealth of 
 good sculpture. The streets alone are full of it. Every 
 palace has beautiful stone-work and an escutcheon which 
 often only a master could execute as Donatello devised
 
 202 THE BARGELLO 
 
 that for the Palazzo Pazzi in the Borgo degli Albizzi. On 
 the great staircase of the Bargello, for example, are num- 
 bers of coats of arms that could not be more beautifully 
 designed and incised. 
 
 In the room leading from that which is memorable for 
 Pollaiuolo's youth in armour is a collection of medals by all 
 the best medallists, beginning, in the first case, with Pisan- 
 ello. Here are his Sigismondo Malatesta, the tyrant of 
 Rimini, and Isotta his wife ; here also is a portrait of Leon 
 Battista Alberti, who designed and worked on the cathedral 
 of Rimini as well as upon S. Maria Novella in Florence. 
 On the other side of this case is the medal commemorating 
 the Pazzi conspiracy. In other cases are pretty Italian 
 ladies, such as Julia Astalla, Lucrezia Tornabuoni, with her 
 hair in curls just as in Ghirlandaio's frescoes, Costanza 
 Rucellai, Leonora Altoviti, Maria Poliziano, and Maria 
 de' Mucini. 
 
 And so we come to the della Robbias, without whose 
 joyous, radiant art Florence would be only half as beautiful 
 as she is. Of these exquisite artists Luca, the uncle, born 
 in 1400, was by far the greatest. Andrea, his nephew, born 
 in 1435, came next, and then Giovanni. Luca seems to have 
 been a serious, quiet man who would probably have made 
 sculpture not much below his friend Donatello's had not he 
 chanced on the discovery of a means of colouring and glazing 
 terra-cotta. Examples of this craft are seen all over Flor- 
 ence both within doors and out, as the pages of this book 
 indicate, but at the Bargello is the greatest number of small 
 pieces gathered together. I do not say there is anything here 
 more notable than the Annunciation attributed to Andrea 
 at the Spedale degli Innocenti, while of course, for most 
 people, his putti on the fagade of that building are the della 
 Robbia symbol ; nor is there anything finer than Luca's
 
 THE DELLA ROBBIAS 203 
 
 work at Impruneta ; but as a collection of sweetness and 
 gentle domestic beauty these Bargello reliefs are unequalled, 
 both in character and in volume. Here you see what one 
 might call Roman Catholic art that is, the art which at 
 once gives pleasure to simple souls and symbolizes benev- 
 olence and safety carried out to its highest power. 
 Tenderness, happiness, and purity are equally suggested by 
 every relief here. Had Luca and Andrea been entrusted 
 with the creation of the world it would be a paradise. 
 And, as it is, it seems to me impossible but that they left 
 the world sweeter than they found it. Such examples of 
 affection and solicitude as they were continually bringing 
 to the popular vision must have engendered kindness. 
 
 I have noted as especially beautiful in the first room Nos. 
 4, 6, 12, 23, by Andrea ; and 10 and 21, by Luca. These, 
 by the way, are the Bargello ascriptions, but the experts do 
 not always agree. Herr Bode, for example, who has studied 
 the della Robbias with passionate thoroughness, gives the 
 famous head of the boy, which is in reproduction one of the 
 best-known works of plastic art, to Luca ; but the Bargello 
 director says Andrea. In Herr Bode's fascinating mono- 
 graph, "Florentine Sculptors of the Renaissance," he goes 
 very carefully into the differences between the uncle and 
 the nephew, master and pupil. In all the groups, for ex- 
 ample, he says that Luca places the Child on the Madonna's 
 left arm, Andrea on the right. In the second room I have 
 marked particularly Nos. 21, 28, and 31, by Luca, 28 being a 
 deeper relief than usual, and the Madonna not adoring but 
 holding and delighting in one of the most adorable of Babies. 
 Observe in the reproduction of this relief in this volume 
 how the Mother's fingers sink into the child's flesh. Luca 
 was the first sculptor to notice that. No. 31 is the lovely 
 Madonna of the Rose Bower. But nothing gives me
 
 204 THE BARGELLO 
 
 more pleasure than the boy's head of which I have just 
 spoken, attributed to Andrea and also reproduced here. 
 The "Giovane Donna" which pairs with it has extraor- 
 dinary charm and delicacy too. I have marked also, 
 by Andrea, Nos. 71 and 76. Giovanni della Robbia's best 
 is perhaps No. 15, in the other room. 
 
 One curious thing that one notes about della Robbia 
 pottery is its inability to travel. It was made for the church 
 and it should remain there. Even in the Bargello, where 
 there is an ancient environment, it loses half its charm ; 
 while in an English museum it becomes hard and cold. 
 But in a church to which the poor carry their troubles, 
 with a dim light and a little incense, it is perfect, far 
 beyond painting in its tenderness and symbolic value. I 
 speak of course of the Madonnas and altar-pieces. When 
 the della Robbias worked for the open air as in the f acade 
 of the Children's Hospital, or at the Certosa, or in the Loggia 
 di San Paolo, opposite S. Maria Novella, where one may see 
 the beautiful meeting of S. Francis and S. Dominic, by 
 Andrea they seem, in Italy, to have fitness enough ; but 
 it would not do to transplant any of these reliefs to an 
 English facade. There was once, I might add, in Florence 
 a Via della Robbia, but it is now the Via Nazionale. I 
 suppose this injustice to the great potters came about in 
 the eighteen-sixties, when popular political enthusiasm 
 led to every kind of similar re-naming. 
 
 In the room leading out of the second della Robbia room 
 is a collection of vestments and brocades bequeathed by 
 Baron Giulio Franchetti, where you may see, dating from 
 as far back as the sixth century, designs that for beauty 
 and splendour and durability put to shame most of the 
 
 ! stuffs now woven ; but the top floor of the Museo Archeo- 
 logico in the Via della Colonna is the chief home in Florence 
 of such treasures.
 
 SOUTH KENSINGTON SCULPTURE 205 
 
 There are other beautiful things in the Bargello of which 
 I have said nothing a gallery of medieval bells most 
 exquisitely designed, from famous steeples ; cases of carved 
 ivory ; and many of such treasures as one sees at the Cluny 
 in Paris. But it is for its courtyard and for the Renaissance 
 sculpture that one goes to the Bargello, and returns again 
 and again to the Bargello, and it is for these that one 
 remembers it. 
 
 On returning to London the first duty of everyone who 
 has drunk deep of delight in the Bargello is to visit that 
 too much neglected treasure-house of our own, the Victoria 
 and Albert Museum at South Kensington. There may 
 be nothing at South Kensington as fine as the Bargello's 
 finest, but it is a priceless collection and is superior to the 
 Bargello in one respect at any rate, for it has a relief 
 attributed to Leonardo. Here also is an adorable Madonna 
 and laughing Child, beyond anything in Florence for sheer 
 gaiety if not mischief, which the South Kensington au- 
 thorities call a Rossellino but Herr Bode a Desiderio da 
 Settignano. The room is rich too in Donatello and in 
 Verrocchio, and altogether it makes a perfect footnote 
 to the Bargello. It also has within call learned gentle- 
 men who can give intimate information about the ex- 
 hibits, which the Bargello badly lacks. The Louvre and 
 the Kaiser Friedrich Museum in Berlin but particularly 
 the Kaiser Friedrich since Herr Bode, who has such a pas- 
 sion for this period, became its director have priceless 
 treasures, and in Paris I have had the privilege of seeing 
 the little but exquisite collection formed by M. Gustave 
 Dreyfus, dominated by that mirthful Italian child which 
 the Bargello authorities consider to be by Donatello, but 
 Herr Bode gives to Desiderio. At the Louvre, in galleries 
 on the ground floor gained through the Egyptian sculpture
 
 206 THE BARGELLO 
 
 section and opened very capriciously, may be seen the 
 finest of the prisoners from Michelangelo's tomb for Pope 
 Julius; Donatello's youthful Baptist; a Madonna and 
 Children by Agostino di Duccio, whom we saw at the 
 Museum of the Cathedral ; an early coloured terra-cotta by 
 Luca della Robbia, and No. 316, a terra-cotta Madonna 
 and Child without ascription, which looks very like Ros- 
 sellino. 
 
 In addition to originals there are at South Kensington 
 casts of many of the Bargello's most valuable possessions, 
 such as Donatello's and Verrocchio's Davids, Donatello's 
 Baptist and many heads, Mino da Fiesole's best Madonna, 
 Pollaiuolo's Young Warrior, and so forth; so that to 
 loiter there is most attractively to recapture something of 
 the Florentine feeling.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 S. CROCE 
 
 An historic piazza Marble fagadea Florence's Westminster Abbey 
 Galileo's ancestor and Ruskin Benedetto's pulpit Michelangelo's 
 tomb A fond lady Donatello's " Annunciation " Giotto's frescoes 
 S. Francis Donatello magnanimous The gifted Alberti Desi- 
 derio's great tomb The sacristy The Medici chapel The Pazzi 
 chapel Old Jacopo desecrated A restoration. 
 
 THE piazza S. Croce now belongs to children. The 
 church is at one end, bizarre buildings are on either 
 side, the Dante statue is in the middle, and harsh gravel 
 covers the ground. Everywhere are children, all dirty, and 
 all rather squalid and mostly bow-legged, showing that 
 they were of the wrong age to take their first steps on Holy 
 Saturday at noon. The long brown building on the right, 
 as we face S. Croce, is a seventeenth-century palazzo. For 
 the rest, the architecture is chiefly notable for green 
 shutters. 
 
 The frigid and florid Dante memorial, which was un- 
 veiled in 1865 on the six hundredth anniversary of the 
 poet's birthday, looks gloomily upon what once was a scene 
 of splendour and animation, for in 1469 Piero de' Medici 
 devised here a tournament in honour of the betrothal of 
 Lorenzo to Clarice Orsini. The Queen of the tournament 
 was Lucrezia Donati, and she awarded the first prize to 
 Lorenzo. The tournament cost 10,000 gold florins and 
 
 207
 
 208 S. CROCE 
 
 was very splendid, Verrocchio and other artists being 
 called in to design costumes, and it is thought that 
 Pollaiuolo's terra-cotta of the Young Warrior in the Bar- 
 gello represents the comely Giuliano de' Medici as he ap- 
 peared in his armour in the lists. The piazza was the 
 scene also of that famous tournament given by Lorenzo 
 de' Medici for Giuliano in 1474, of which the beautiful 
 Simonetta was the Queen of Beauty, and to which, as I have 
 said elsewhere, we owe Botticelli's two most famous pic- 
 tures. Difficult to reconstruct in the Piazza any of those 
 glories to-day. 
 
 The new facade of S. Croce, endowed not long since by an 
 Englishman, has been much abused, but it is not so bad. 
 As the front of so beautiful and wonderful a church it may 
 be inadequate, but as a structure of black and white marble 
 it will do. To my mind nothing satisfactory can now be 
 done in this medium, which, unless it is centuries old, is 
 always harsh and cuts the sky like a knife, instead of resting 
 against it as architecture should. But when it is old, as 
 at S. Miniato, it is right. 
 
 S. Croce is the Westminster Abbey of Florence. Michel- 
 angelo lies here, Machiavelli lies here, Galileo lies here; 
 and here Giotto painted, Donatello carved, and Brunelleschi 
 planned. Although outside the church is disappointing, 
 within it is the most beautiful in Florence. It has the 
 boldest arches, the best light at all seasons, the most at- 
 tractive floor of gentle red and an apse almost wholly 
 made of coloured glass. Not a little of its charm comes 
 from the delicate passage-way that runs the whole course 
 of the church high up on the yellow walls. It also has 
 the finest circular window in Florence, over the main 
 entrance, a "Deposition" by Ghiberti. 
 
 The lightness was indeed once so intense that no fewer 
 than twenty-two windows have had to be closed. The cir-
 
 INTERIOR OF S. CROCE
 
 THE OLD GALILEO 209 
 
 cular window over the altar upon which a new roof seems 
 to be intruding is in reality the interloper : the roof is the 
 original one, and the window was cut later, in defiance of 
 good architecture, by Vasari, who, since he was a pupil 
 of Michelangelo, should have known better. To him was 
 entrusted the restoration of the church in the middle of the 
 sixteenth century. 
 
 The original architect of the modern S. Croce was the 
 same Arnolfo di Cambio, or Lapo, who began the Duomo. 
 He had some right to be chosen since his father, Jacopo, 
 or Lapo, a German, was the builder of the most famous of 
 all the Franciscan churches that at Assisi, which was 
 begun while S. Francis was still living. And Giotto, who 
 painted in that church his most famous frescoes, depicting 
 scenes in the life of S. Francis, succeeded Arnolfo here, as 
 at the Duomo, with equal fitness. Arnolfo began S. Croce 
 in 1294, the year that the building of the Duomo was 
 decided upon, as a reply to the new Dominican Church of 
 S. Maria Novella, and to his German origin is probably 
 due the Northern impression which the interiors both of S. 
 Croce and the Duomo convey. 
 
 The first thing to examine in S. Croce is the floor-tomb, 
 close to the centre door, upon which Ruskin wrote one 
 of his most characteristic passages. The tomb is of an 
 ancestor of Galileo (who lies close by, but beneath a florid 
 monument), and it represents a mediaeval scholarly figure 
 with folded hands. Ruskin writes: "That worn face is 
 still a perfect portrait of the old man, though like one 
 struck out at a venture, with a few rough touches of a 
 master's chisel. And that falling drapery of his cap is, in 
 its few lines, faultless, and subtle beyond description. And 
 now, here is a simple but most useful test of your capacity 
 for understanding Florentine sculpture or painting. If you
 
 210 S. CROCE 
 
 can see that the lines of that cap are both right, and lovely ; 
 that the choice of the folds is exquisite in its ornamental 
 relations of line ; and that the softness and ease of them is 
 complete, though only sketched with a few dark touches, 
 then you can understand Giotto's drawing, and Botti- 
 celli's; Donatello's carving and Luca's. But if you see 
 nothing in this sculpture, you will see nothing in theirs, of 
 theirs. Where they choose to imitate flesh, or silk, or to 
 play any vulgar modern trick with marble (and they 
 often do) whatever, in a word, is French, or American, or 
 Cockney, in their work, you can see ; but what is Floren- 
 tine, and for ever great unless you can see also the beauty 
 of this old man in his citizen's cap, you will see never." 
 
 The passage is in "Mornings in Florence," which begins 
 with S. Croce and should be read by everyone visiting the 
 city. And here let me advise another companion for this 
 church: a little dark enthusiast, in a black skull cap, 
 named Alfred Branconi, who is usually to be found just 
 inside the doors, but may be secured as a guide by a post- 
 card to the church. Signer Branconi knows S. Croce and 
 he loves it, and he has the further qualifications of knowing 
 all Florence too and speaking excellent English, which he 
 taught himself. 
 
 The S. Croce pulpit, which is by Benedetto da Mdano, 
 is a satisfying thing, accomplished both in proportions and 
 workmanship, with panels illustrating scenes in the life of 
 S. Francis. These are all most gently and persuasively 
 done, influenced, of course, by the Baptistery doors, but 
 individual too, and full of a kindred sweetness and liveliness. 
 The scenes are the "Confirmation of the Franciscan Or- 
 der" (the best, I think); the "Burning of the Books"; 
 the "Stigmata," which we shall see again in the church, 
 in fresco, for here we are all dedicated to the saint of
 
 THE TOMB OF MICHELANGELO 211 
 
 Assisi, not yet having come upon the stern S. Dominic, the 
 ruler at S. Marco and S. Maria Novella; the "Death of 
 S. Francis," very real and touching, which we shall also 
 see again; and the execution of certain Franciscans. 
 Benedetto, who was also an architect and made the plan 
 of the Strozzi palace, was so unwilling that anything 
 should mar the scheme of his pulpit, that after strengthen- 
 ing this pillar with the greatest care and thoroughness, he 
 hollowed it and placed the stairs inside. 
 
 The first tomb on the right, close to this pulpit, is Michel- 
 angelo's, a mass of allegory, designed by his friend Vasari, 
 the author of the "Lives of the Artists," the reading of 
 which is perhaps the best preparation for the understand- 
 ing of Florence. "If life pleases us," Michelangelo once 
 said, "we ought not to be grieved by death, which comes 
 from the same Giver." Michelangelo had intended the 
 Pieta, now in the Duomo, to stand above his grave ; but 
 Vasari, who had a little of the Pepys in his nature, thought 
 to do him greater honour by this ornateness. The artist 
 was laid to his rest in 1564, but not before his body was 
 exhumed, by his nephew, at Rome, where the great man 
 had died, and a series of elaborate ceremonies had been 
 performed, which Vasari, who is here trustworthy enough, 
 describes minutely. All the artists in Florence vied in 
 celebrating the dead master in memorial paintings for 
 his catafalque and its surroundings, which have now 
 perished ; but probably the loss is not great, except as an 
 example of homage, for that was a bad period. How bad it 
 was may be a little gauged by Vasari's tributory tomb and 
 his window over the high altar. 
 
 Opposite Michelangelo's tomb, on the pillar, is the pretty 
 but rather Victorian "Madonna del Latte," surrounded 
 by angels, by Bernardo Rossellino (1409-1464), brother of
 
 212 S. CROCK 
 
 the author of the great tomb at S. Miniato. This pretty 
 relief was commissioned as a family memorial by that 
 Francesco Nori, the close friend of Lorenzo de' Medici, 
 who was killed in the Duomo during the Pazzi conspiracy 
 in his effort to save Lorenzo from the assassins. 
 
 The tomb of Alfieri, the dramatist, to which we now 
 come, was erected at the cost of his mistress, the Countess 
 of Albany, who herself sat to Canova for the figure of 
 bereaved Italy. This curious and unfortunate woman 
 became, at the age of nineteen, the wife of the Young 
 Pretender, twenty-seven years after the '45, and led a 
 miserable existence with him (due chiefly to his depravity, 
 but a little, she always held, to the circumstance that they 
 chose Good Friday for their wedding day) until Alfieri fell 
 in love with her and offered his protection. Together she 
 and the poet remained, apparently contented with each 
 other and received by society, even by the English Royal 
 family, until Alfieri died, in 1803, when after exclaiming 
 that she had lost all "consolations, support, society, 
 all, all ! " and establishing this handsome memorial, she 
 selected the French artist Fabre to fill the aching void in 
 her fifty-years-old heart ; and Fabre not only filled it until 
 her death in 1824, but became the heir of all that had 
 been bequeathed to her by both the Stuart and Alfieri. 
 Such was the Countess of Albany, to whom human affec- 
 tion wms so necessary. She herself is buried close by, in 
 the chapel of the Castellani. 
 
 Mrs. Piozzi, in her "Glimpses of Italian Society," 
 mentions seeing in Florence in 1785 the unhappy Pretender. 
 Though old and sickly, he went much into society, sported 
 the English arms and livery, and wore the garter. 
 
 Other tombs in the right aisle are those of Machiavelli, 
 the statesman and author of "The Prince," and Rossini,
 
 MONUMENT TO CARLO MARZUPPINI 
 
 BY DESIDERIO DA SETTIGNANO IN S. CROCK
 
 DONATELLO'S " ANNUNCIATION " 213 
 
 the composer of "William Tell," who died in Paris in 1868, 
 but was brought here for burial. These tombs are mod- 
 ern and of no artistic value, but there is near them a fine 
 fifteenth-century example in the monument by Bernardo 
 Rossellino to another statesman and author, Leonardo 
 Bruni, known as Aretino, who wrote the lives of Dante 
 and Petrarch and a Latin history of Florence, a copy of 
 which was placed on his heart at his funeral. This tomb 
 is considered to be Rossellino's masterpiece ; but there is 
 one opposite by another hand which dwarfs it. 
 
 There is also a work of sculpture near it, in the same 
 wall, which draws away the eyes Donatello's "Annuncia- 
 tion." The experts now think this to belong to the sculp- 
 tor's middle period, but Vasari thought it earlier, and 
 makes it the work which had most influence in estab- 
 lishing his reputation ; while according to the archives 
 it was placed in the church before Donatello was living. 
 Vasari ought to be better informed upon this point than 
 usual, since it was he who was employed in the sixteenth 
 century to renovate S. Croce, at which time the chapel 
 for whose altar the relief was made that of the Caval- 
 canti family was removed. The relief now stands unre- 
 lated to anything. Every detail of it should be examined ; 
 but Alfred Branconi will see to that. The stone is the 
 grey pietra serena of Fiesole, and Donatello has plentifully 
 but not too plentifully, lightened it with gold, which is 
 exactly what all artists who used this medium for sculpture 
 should have done. By a pleasant tactful touch the de- 
 signer of the modern Donatello monument in S. Lorenzo 
 has followed the master's lead. 
 
 Almost everything of Donatello's that one sees is in turn 
 the best ; but standing before this lovely work one is more 
 than commonly conscious of being in the presence of a
 
 214 S. CROCE 
 
 wonderful creator. The Virgin is wholly unlike any other 
 woman, and She is surprising and modern even for Dona- 
 tello with his vast range. The charming terra-cotta boys 
 above are almost without doubt from the same hand, but 
 they cannot have been made for this monument. 
 
 To the della Robbias we come in the Castellani chapel 
 in the right transept, which has two full-length statues by 
 either Luca or Andrea, in the gentle glazed medium, of 
 S. Frances and S. Bernard, quite different from any- 
 thing we have seen or shall see, because isolated. The 
 other full-size figures by these masters such as those at 
 Impruneta are placed against the wall. The S. Ber- 
 nard, on the left as one enters the chapel, is far the finer. 
 It surely must be one of the most beautiful male draped 
 figures in the world. 
 
 The next chapel, at the end of the transept, was once 
 enriched by Giotto frescoes, but they no longer exist. 
 There are, however, an interesting but restored series of 
 scenes in the life of the Virgin by Taddeo Gaddi, Giotto's 
 godson ; a Madonna ascending to heaven, by Mainardi, 
 who was Ghirlandaio's pupil, and so satisfactory a one that 
 he was rewarded by the hand of his master's sister ; and a 
 pretty piece of Gothic sculpture with the Christ Child upon 
 it. Hereabouts, I may remark, we have continually to be 
 walking over floor-tombs, now ruined beyond hope, their 
 ruin being perhaps the cause of a protecting rail being 
 placed round the others ; although a floor-tomb should 
 have, I think, a little wearing from the feet of worshippers, 
 just to soften the lines. Those at the Certosa are, for 
 example, far too sharp and clean. 
 
 Let us complete the round of the church before we 
 examine the sacristy, and go now to the two chapels, where 
 Giotto may be found at his best, although restored too, on
 
 GIOTTO'S FRESCOES 215 
 
 this side of the high altar. The Peruzzi chapel has scenes 
 from the lives of the two S. Johns, the Baptist, and the 
 Evangelist : all rather too thoroughly re-painted, although 
 following Giotto's groundwork closely enough to retain 
 much of their interest and value. And here once again 
 one should consult the "Mornings in Florence," where the 
 wilful discerning enthusiast is, like his revered subject, also 
 at his best. Giotto's thoughtfulness could not be better 
 illustrated than in S. Croce. One sees him, as ever, think- 
 ing of everything : not a very remarkable attribute of the 
 fresco painter since then, but very remarkable then, when 
 any kind of facile saintliness sufficed. Signer Bianchi, who 
 found these paintings under the whitewash in 1853, and 
 restored them, overdid his part, there is no doubt ; but as 
 I have said, their interest is unharmed, and it is that which 
 one so delights in. Look, for instance, at the attitude of 
 Drusiana, suddenly twitched by S. John back again into 
 this vale of tears, while her bier is on its way to the 
 cemetery outside the pretty city. "Am I really to live 
 again?" she so plainly says to the inexorable miracle- 
 worker. The dancing of Herodias' daughter, which offered 
 Giotto less scope, is original too original not because it 
 came so early, but because Giotto's mind was original and 
 innovating and creative. The musician is charming. The 
 last scene of all is a delightful blend of religious fervour 
 and reality : the miraculous ascent from the tomb, through 
 an elegant Florentine loggia, to everlasting glory, in a 
 blaze of gold, and Christ and an apostle leaning out of 
 heaven with outstretched hands to pull the saint in, as 
 into a boat. Such a Christ as that could not but be be- 
 lieved in. 
 
 In the next chapel, the Bardi, we find Giotto at work on 
 a life of S. Francis, and here again Ruskin is essential. It
 
 216 S. CROCE 
 
 was a task which, since this church was the great effort of 
 the Florentine Franciscans, would put an artist upon his 
 mettle, and Giotto set the chosen incidents before the 
 observers with the discretion and skill of the great biog- 
 rapher that he was, and not only that, but the great Assisi 
 decorator that he was. No choice could have been better 
 at any time in the history of art. Giotto chose the follow- 
 ing scenes, one or two of which coincide with those on 
 Benedetto da Maiano's pulpit, which came of course many 
 years later : the " Confirmation of the Rules of the Fran- 
 ciscans," "S. Francis Before the Sultan and the Magi," 
 "S. Francis Sick and Appearing to the Bishop of Assisi," 
 "S. Francis Fleeing from His Father's House and His 
 Reception by the Bishop of Assisi," and the "Death of 
 S. Francis." Giotto's Assisi frescoes, which preceded these, 
 anticipate them ; but in some cases these are considered to 
 be better, although in others not so good. It is generally 
 agreed that the death scene is the best. Note the charac- 
 teristic touch by which Giotto makes one of the monks at 
 the head of the bed look up at the precise moment when 
 the saint dies, seeing him being received into heaven. 
 According to Vasari, one of the two monks (on the ex- 
 treme left, as I suppose), is Giotto's portrait of the archi- 
 tect of the church, Arnolfo. The altar picture, consisting 
 of many more scenes in the life of S. Francis, is often attrib- 
 uted to Cimabue, Giotto's master, but probably is by 
 another hand. In one of these scenes the saint is found 
 preaching to what must be the most attentive birds on 
 record. The figures on the ceiling represent Poverty, 
 Chastity, and Obedience, which all Franciscans are pledged 
 to observe. The glass is coeval with the building, which 
 has been described as the most perfect Gothic chapel in 
 existence.
 
 CHRIST AND "PEASANT" 217 
 
 The founder of this chapel was Ridolfo de' Bardi, whose 
 family early in the fourteenth century bade fair to become 
 as powerful as the Medici, and by the same means, their 
 business being banking and money-lending, in association 
 with the founders of the adjoining chapel, the Peruzzi. 
 Ridolfo's father died in 1310, and his son, who had become 
 a Franciscan, in 1327 ; and the chapel was built, and Giotto 
 probably painted the frescoes, soon after the father's death. 
 Both the Bardi and Peruzzi were brought low by our 
 King Edward III, who borrowed from them money with 
 which to fight the French, at Crecy and Poitiers, and 
 omitted to repay it. 
 
 The chapels in the left transept are less interesting, ex- 
 cept perhaps to students of painting in its early days. In 
 the chapel at the end we find Donatello's wooden crucifix 
 which led to that friendly rivalry on the part of Brunelles- 
 chi, the story of which is one of the best in all Vasari. 
 Donatello, having finished this wooden crucifix, and being 
 unusually satisfied with it, asked Brunelleschi's opinion, 
 confidently expecting praise. But Brunelleschi, who was 
 sufficiently close a friend to say what he thought, replied 
 that the type was too rough and common : it was not Christ 
 but a peasant. Christ, of course, was a peasant ; but by 
 peasant Brunelleschi meant a stupid, dull man. Dona- 
 tello, chagrined, had recourse to what has always been a 
 popular retort to critics, and challenged him to make a 
 better. Brunelleschi took it very quietly : he said nothing 
 in reply, but secretly for many months, in the intervals of 
 his architecture, worked at his own version, and then one 
 day, when it was finished, invited Donatello to dinner, 
 stopping at the Mercato Vecchio to get some eggs and other 
 things. These he gave Donatello to carry, and sent him on 
 before him to the studio, where the crucifix was standing
 
 218 S. CROCE 
 
 unveiled. When Brunelleschi arrived he found the eggs 
 scattered and broken on the floor and Donatello before his 
 carving in an ecstasy of admiration. "But what are we 
 going to have for dinner ? " the host inquired. " Dinner ! " 
 said Donatello; "I've had all the dinner I require. To 
 thee it is given to carve Christs : to me only peasants." 
 No one should forget this pretty story, either here or at S. 
 Maria Novella, where Brunelleschi's crucifix now is. 
 
 The flexible Siena iron grille of this end chapel dates 
 from 1335. Note its ivy border. 
 
 On entering the left aisle we find the tombs of Cherubini, 
 the composer, Raphael Morghen, the engraver, and that 
 curious example of the Florentine universalist, whose figure 
 we saw under the Uffizi, Leon Battista Alberti (1405-1472), 
 architect, painter, author, mathematician, scholar, conver- 
 sationalist, aristocrat, and friend of princes. His chief 
 work in Florence is the Rucellai palace and the facade of 
 S. Maria Novella, but he was greater as an influence than 
 creator, and his manuals on architecture, painting, and 
 the study of perspective helped to bring the arts to perfec- 
 tion. It is at Rimini that he was perhaps most wonderful. 
 Lorenzo de' Medici greatly valued his society, and he was 
 a leader in the Platonic Academy. But the most human 
 achievement to his credit is his powerful plea for using 
 the vernacular in literature, rather than concealing one's 
 best thoughts, as was fashionable before his protest, in 
 Latin. So much for Alberti's intellectual side. Physically 
 he was remarkable too, and one of his accomplishments was 
 to jump over a man standing upright, while he was also able 
 to throw a coin on to the highest tower, even, I suppose, the 
 Campanile, and ride any horse, however wild. At the 
 Bargello may be seen Alberti's portrait, on a medal de- 
 signed by Pisanello. The old medals are indeed the best
 
 DAVID 
 
 FROM THE MARBLE STATUE BY MICHELANGELO IN THE ACCAPEMIA 
 
 (A replica of this statue in marble is outside the Palazzo Vecchio 
 and in bronze in t/ie Piazzale Michelangelo)
 
 DESIDERIO'S GREAT TOMB 219 
 
 authority for the lineaments of the great men of the Renais- 
 sance, better far than paint. At South Kensington thou- 
 sands may be seen, either in the original or in reproduction. 
 
 In the right aisle we saw Bernardo Rossellino's tomb of 
 Leonardo Bruni ; in the left is that of Bruni's successor as 
 Secretary of State, Carlo Marsuppini, by Desiderio da Set- 
 tignano, which is high among the most beautiful monu- 
 ments that exist. "Faine, faine !" says Alfred Branconi, 
 with his black eyes dimmed ; and this though he has seen it 
 every day for years and explained its beauties in the same 
 words. Everything about it is beautiful, as the photo- 
 graph which I give in this volume will help the reader to 
 believe : proportions, figures, and tracery ; but I still con- 
 sider Mine's monument to Ugo in the Badia the finest 
 Florentine example of the gentler memorial style, as con- 
 trasted with the severe Michelangelesque manner. Mino, 
 it must be remembered, was Desiderio's pupil, as Desiderio 
 was Donatello's. Note how Desiderio, by an inspiration, 
 opened the leaf work at each side of the sarcophagus and 
 instantly the great solid mass of marble became light, 
 almost buoyant. Never can a few strokes of the chisel 
 have had so transforming an effect. There is some doubt 
 as to whether the boys are just where the sculptor set 
 them, and the upper ones with their garlands are thought 
 to be a later addition ; but we are never likely to know. 
 The returned visitor from Florence will like to be reminded 
 that, as of so many others of the best Florentine sculptures, 
 there is a cast of this at South Kensington. 
 
 The last tomb of the highest importance in the church 
 is that of Galileo, the astronomer, who died in 1642 ; but 
 it is not interesting as a work of art. In the centre of the 
 church is a floor-tomb by Ghiberti, with a bronze figure of 
 a famous Franciscan, Francesco Sansoni da Brescia.
 
 220 S. CBOCE 
 
 Next the sacristy. Italian priests apparently have no 
 resentment against inquisitive foreigners who are led into 
 their dressing-rooms while sumptuous and significant vest- 
 ments are being donned ; but I must confess to feeling it 
 for them, and if my impressions of the S. Croce sacristy 
 are meagre and confused it is because of a certain delicacy 
 that I experienced in intruding upon their rites. For on 
 both occasions when I visited the sacristy there were 
 several priests either robing or disrobing. Apart from a 
 natural disinclination to invade privacy, I am so poor a 
 Roman Catholic as to be in some doubt as to whether one 
 has a right to be so near such a mystery at all. But 
 I recollect that in this sacristy are treasures of wood and 
 iron the most beautiful intarsia wainscotting I ever saw, 
 by Giovanni di Michele, with a frieze of wolves and foliage, 
 and fourteenth-century iron gates to the little chapel, pure 
 Gothic in design, with a little rose window at the top, deli- 
 cate beyond words : all which things once again turn the 
 thoughts to this wonderful Italy of the fourteenth and fif- 
 teenth century, when not even the best was good enough for 
 those who built churches, but something miraculous was 
 demanded from every craftsman. 
 
 At the end of the passage in which the sacristy is 
 situated is the exquisite little Cappella Medici, which 
 Michelozzo, the architect of S. Marco and the Palazzo 
 Medici, and for a while Donatello's partner, built for his 
 friend Cosimo de' Medici, who though a Dominican in his 
 cell at S. Marco was a Franciscan here, but by being 
 equally a patron dissociated himself from partisanship. 
 Three treasures in particular does this little temple hold : 
 Giotto's "Coronation of the Virgin"; the della Robbia 
 altar relief, and Mino da Fiesole's tabernacle. Giotto's 
 picture, which is signed, once stood as altar-piece in the
 
 THE MEDICI CHAPEL 221 
 
 Baroncelli chapel of the church proper. In addition to the 
 beautiful della Robbia altar-piece, so happy and holy 
 which Alfred Branconi boldly calls Luca there is over the 
 door Christ between two angels, a lovely example of the 
 same art. For a subtler, more modern and less religious 
 mind, we have but to turn to the tabernacle by Mino, every 
 inch of which is exquisite. 
 
 On the same wall is a curious thing. In the eighteen- 
 sixties died a Signor Lombardi, who owned certain reliefs 
 which he believed to be Donatello's. When his monu- 
 ment was made these ancient works were built into them 
 and here and there gilded (for it is a wicked world and 
 there was no taste at that time). One's impulse is not to 
 look at this encroaching piece of novelty at all ; but one 
 should resist that feeling, because, on examination, the 
 Madonna and Children above Signor Lombardi's head be- 
 come exceedingly interesting. Her hands are the work of 
 a great artist, and they are really holding the Child. Why 
 this should not be an early Donatello I do not see. 
 
 The cloisters of S. Croce are entered from the piazza, 
 just to the right of the church : the first, a little ornate, 
 by Arnolfo, and the second, until recently used as a bar- 
 racks but now being restored to a more pacific end, by 
 Brunelleschi, and among the most perfect of his works. 
 Brunelleschi is also the designer of the Pazzi chapel in the 
 first cloisters. The severity of the facade is delightfully 
 softened and enlivened by a frieze of mischievous cherubs' 
 heads, the joint work of Donatello and Desiderio. Dona- 
 tello's are on the right, and one sees at once that his was 
 the bolder, stronger hand. Look particularly at the laugh- 
 ing head fourth from the right. But that one of Desiderio's 
 over the middle columns has much charm and power. The 
 doors, from Brunelleschi's own hand, in a doorway perfect
 
 222 S. CROCE 
 
 in scale, are noble and worthy. The chapel itself I find 
 too severe and a little fretted by its della Robbias and the 
 multiplicity of circles. It is called Brunelleschi's master- 
 piece, but I prefer both the Badia of Fiesole and the Old 
 Sacristy at S. Lorenzo, and I remember with more pleasure 
 the beautiful doorway leading from the Arnolfo cloisters 
 to the Brunelleschi cloisters, which probably is his too. 
 The della Robbia reliefs, once one can forgive them for 
 being here, are worth study. Nothing could be more 
 charming (or less conducive to a methodical literary 
 morning) than the angel who holds S. Matthew's ink pot. 
 But I think my favourite of all is the pensive apostle who 
 leans his cheek on his hand and his elbow on his book. 
 This figure alone proves what a sculptor Luca was, apart 
 altogether from the charm of his mind and the fascination 
 of his chosen medium. 
 
 This chapel was once the scene of a gruesome ceremony. 
 Old Jacopo Pazzi, the head of the family at the time of 
 the Pazzi conspiracy against the Medici, after being hanged 
 from a window of the Palazzo Vecchio, was buried here. 
 Some short while afterwards Florence was inundated by 
 rain to such an extent that the vengeance of God was 
 inferred, and, casting about for a reason, the Florentines 
 decided that it was because Jacopo had been allowed to 
 rest in sacred soil. A mob therefore rushed to S. Croce, 
 broke open his tomb and dragged his body through the 
 streets, stopping on their way at the Pazzi palace to knock 
 on the door with his skull. He was then thrown into the 
 swollen Arno and borne way by the tide. 
 
 In the old refectory of the convent are now a number of 
 pictures and fragments of sculpture. The "Last Supper," 
 by Taddeo Gaddi, on the wall, is notable for depicting 
 Judas, who had no shrift at the hands of the painters, with-
 
 RESTORED CLOISTERS 223 
 
 out a halo. Castagno and Ghirlandaio, as we shall see, 
 under similar circumstances, placed him on the wrong side 
 of the table. In either case, but particularly perhaps in 
 Taddeo's picture, the answer to Christ's question, which 
 Leonardo at Milan makes so dramatic, is a foregone con- 
 clusion. The "Crucifixion" on the end wall, at the left, 
 is interesting as having been painted for the Porta S. Gallo 
 (in the Piazza Cavour) and removed here. All the gates of 
 Florence had religious frescoes in them, some of which 
 still remain. The great bronze bishop is said to be by 
 Donatello and to have been meant for Or San Michele ; 
 but one does not much mind. 
 
 One finds occasion to say so many hard things of the 
 Florentine disregard of ancient art that it is peculiarly a 
 pleasure to see the progress that is being made in restoring 
 Brunelleschi's perfect cloisters at S. Croce to their original 
 form. When they were turned into barracks the Loggia 
 was walled in all round and made into a series of rooms. 
 These walls are now gradually coming away, the lovely 
 pillars being again isolated, the chimneys removed, and 
 everything lightly washed. Grass has also been sown in 
 the great central square. The crumbling of the decorative 
 medals in the spandrels of the cloisters cannot of course 
 be restored; but one does not complain of such natural 
 decay as that.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 Michelangelo The David The tomb of Julius A contrast Fra 
 Angelico The beatific painter Cimabue and Giotto Masaccio 
 Gentile da Fabriano Domenico Ghirlandaio Fra Angelico again 
 Fra Bartolommeo Perugino Botticelli The " Primavera " Leo- 
 nardo da Vinci and Verrocchio Botticelli's sacred pictures Botticini 
 Tapestries of Eden. 
 
 THE Accademia delle Belle Arti is in the Via Ricasoli, 
 that street which seen from the top of the Campa- 
 nile is the straightest thing in Florence, running like a ruled 
 line from the Duomo to the valley of the Mugnone. Up- 
 stairs are modern painters : but upstairs I have never been. 
 It is the ground-floor rooms that are so memorable, con- 
 taining as they do a small but very choice collection 
 of pictures illustrating the growth of Italian art, with par- 
 ticular emphasis on Florentine art; the best assemblage 
 of the work of Fra Angelico that exists ; and a large 
 gallery given up to Michelangelo's sculpture : originals and 
 casts. The principal magnets that draw people here, no 
 doubt, are the Fra Angelicos and Botticelli's "Primavera" ; 
 but in five at least of the rooms there is not an uninterest- 
 ing picture, while the collection is so small that one can 
 study it without fatigue no little matter after the 
 crowded Uffizi and Pitti. 
 
 It is a simple matter to choose in such a book as this 
 
 224
 
 MICHELANGELO'S " DAVID " 225 
 
 the best place in which to tell something of the life story 
 of, say, Giotto and Brunelleschi and the della Robbias ; for 
 at a certain point their genius is found concentrated 
 Donatello's and the della Robbias' in the Bargello and 
 those others' at the Duomo and Campanile. But with 
 Michelangelo it is different, he is so distributed over the 
 city his gigantic David here, the Medici tombs at S. 
 Lorenzo, his fortifications at S. Miniato, his tomb at S. 
 Croce, while there remains his house as a natural focus of 
 all his activities. I have, however, chosen the Medici chapel 
 as the spot best suited for his biography, and therefore will 
 here dwell only on the originals that are preserved about 
 the David. The David himself, superb and confident, 
 is the first thing you see in entering the doors of the gallery. 
 He stands at the end, white and glorious, with his eyes 
 steadfastly measuring his antagonist and calculating upon 
 what will be his next move if the sling misdirects the stone. 
 Of the objection to the statue as being not representative 
 of the Biblical figure I have said something in the chapter 
 on the Bargello, where several Davids come under review. 
 Yet, after all that can be said against its dramatic fitness, 
 the statue remains an impressive and majestic yet 
 strangely human thing. There it is a sign of what a little 
 Italian sculptor with a broken nose could fashion with his 
 mallet and chisel from a mass of marble four hundred and 
 more years ago. 
 
 Its history is curious. In 1501, when Michelangelo was 
 twenty-six and had just returned to Florence from Rome 
 with a great reputation as a sculptor, the joint authorities 
 of the cathedral and the Arte della Lana offered him a huge 
 block of marble that had been in their possession for thirty- 
 five years, having been worked upon clumsily by a sculptor 
 named Baccellino and then set aside. Michelangelo was 
 
 Q
 
 226 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 told that if he accepted it he must carve from it a David and 
 have it done in two years. He began in September, 1501, 
 and finished in January, 1504, and a committee was ap- 
 pointed to decide upon its position, among them being 
 Leonardo da Vinci, Perugino, Lorenzo di Credi, Filippino 
 Lippi, Botticelli, and Andrea della Robbia. There were 
 three suggested sites : the Loggia de' Lanzi ; the court- 
 yard of the Palazzo Vecchio, where Verrocchio's little 
 boudoir David then stood (now in the Bargello) and 
 where his Cupid and dolphin now are; and the place 
 where it now stands, then occupied by Donatello's Judith 
 and Holofernes. This last was finally selected, not by 
 the committee but by the determination of Michelangelo 
 himself, and Judith and Holofernes were moved to the 
 Loggia de' Lanzi to their present position. The David 
 was set up in May, 1504, and remained there for three 
 hundred and sixty-nine years, suffering no harm from the 
 weather but having an arm broken in the Medici riots in 
 1527. In 1873, however, it was decided that further ex- 
 posure might be injurious, and so the statue was moved 
 here to its frigid niche and a replica in marble afterwards 
 set up in its place. Since this glorious figure is to be seen 
 thrice in Florence, he may be said to have become the 
 second symbol of the city, next the fleur-de-lis. 
 
 The Tribuna del David, as the Michelangelo salon is 
 called, has among other originals several figures intended 
 for that tomb of Pope Julius II (whose portrait by Raphael 
 we have seen at the Uffizi) which was to be the eighth 
 wonder of the world, and by which the last years of the 
 sculptor's life were rendered so unhappy. The story is a 
 miserable one. Of the various component parts of the tomb, 
 finished or unfinished, the best known is the Moses at S. 
 Pietro in Vincoli at Rome, reproduced in plaster here,
 
 MARBLE AND LIFE 227 
 
 in the Accademia, beneath the bronze head of its author. 
 Various other parts are in Rome too ; others here ; one or 
 two may be at the Bargello (although some authorities 
 give these supposed Michelangelos to Vincenzo Danti) ; 
 others are in the grotto of the Boboli Gardens; and the 
 Louvre has what is in some respects the finest of the 
 " Prisoners." 
 
 The first statue on the right of the entrance of the Tri- 
 buna del David is a group called " Genio Vittorioso." Here 
 in the old man we see rock actually turned to life ; in the 
 various " Prisoners " near we see life emerging from rock ; in 
 the David we forget the rock altogether. One wonders 
 how Michelangelo went to work. Did the shape of the 
 block of marble influence him, or did he with his mind's 
 eye, the Rontgen rays of genius, see the figure within it, 
 embedded in the midst, and hew and chip until it disclosed ? 
 On the back of the fourth statue on the left a monkish face 
 has been incised : probably some visitor to the studio. After 
 looking at these originals and casts, and remembering those 
 other Michelangelo sculptures elsewhere in Florence the 
 tombs of the Medici, the Brutus and the^ smaller David 
 turn to the bronze head over the cast of Moses and reflect 
 upon the author of it all : the profoundly sorrowful eyes 
 behind which so much power and ambition and disappoint- 
 ment dwelt. 
 
 It is peculiarly interesting to walk out of the Michel- 
 angelo gallery into the little room containing the Fra 
 Angelicos : to pass from a great melancholy saturnine 
 sculptor, the victim of the caprice of princes temporal and 
 spiritual, his eyes troubled with world knowledge and world 
 weariness, to the child-like celebrant of the joy of simple 
 faith who painted these gay and happy pictures. Fra 
 Angelico the sweetest of all the Florentine painters was
 
 228 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 a monk of Fiesole, whose real name was Guido Petri da 
 Mugello, but becoming a Dominican he called himself 
 Giovanni, and now through the sanctity and happiness of 
 his brush is for all time Beato Angelico. He was born in 
 1390, nearly sixty years after Giotto's, when Chaucer was 
 fifty, and Richard II on the English throne. His early 
 years were spent in exile from Fiesole, the brothers having 
 come into difficulties with the Archbishop, but by 1418 
 he was again at Fiesole, and when in 1436 Cosimo de' 
 Medici, returned from exile at Venice, set his friend Michel- 
 ozzo upon building the convent of S. Marco, Fra Angelico 
 was fetched from Fiesole to decorate the walls. There, 
 and here, in the Accademia, are his chief works assembled ; 
 but he worked also at Fiesole, at Cortona, and at Rome, 
 where he painted frescoes in the chapel of Nicholas V in 
 the Vatican and where he died, aged sixty-eight, and was 
 buried. It was while at Rome that the Pope offered him 
 the priorship of S. Marco, which he declined as being un- 
 worthy ,but recommended Antonio," the Good Archbishop." 
 That practically is his whole life. As to his character, 
 let Vasari tell us. "He would often say that whosoever 
 practised art needed a quiet life and freedom from care, 
 and he who occupies himself with the things of Christ ought 
 always to be with Christ. . . . Some say that Fra Giovanni 
 never took up his brush without first making a prayer. . . . 
 He never made a crucifix when the tears did not course 
 down his cheeks." The one curious thing to me about 
 Fra Angelico is that he has not been canonized. If ever a 
 son of the Church toiled for her honour and for the happi- 
 ness of mankind it was he. 
 
 There are examples of Fra Angelico's work elsewhere in 
 Florence : the large picture in Room I of this gallery ; the 
 large altar-piece at the Uffizi, with certain others; the
 
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 THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY FRA ANGELICO IN THE ACCADEMIA
 
 THE HAPPY PAINTER 229 
 
 series of mural paintings in the cells of S. Marco ; and his 
 pictures will be found not only elsewhere in Florence and 
 Italy but in the chief galleries of the world ; for he was 
 very assiduous. We have an excellent example at the 
 National Gallery, No. 663 ; but this little room gives us the 
 artist and rhapsodist most completely. In looking at his 
 pictures, three things in particular strike the mind : the 
 skill with which he composed them ; his mastery of light ; 
 and and here he is unique the pleasure he must have 
 had in painting them. All seem to have been play ; he 
 enjoyed the toil exactly as a child enjoys the labour of 
 building a house with toy bricks. Nor, one feels, could he 
 be depressed. Even in his Crucifixions there is a certain 
 underlying happiness, due to his knowledge that the Cruci- 
 fied was to rise again and ascend to Heaven and enjoy 
 eternal felicity. Knowing this (as he did know it) how 
 could he be wholly cast down ? You see it again in the 
 Flagellation of Christ, in the series of six scenes (No. 237). 
 The scourging is almost a festival. But best of all I like 
 the Flight into Egypt, in No. 235. Everything here is 
 joyous and (in spite of the terrible cause of the journey) 
 bathed in the sunny light of the age of innocence : the 
 landscape ; Joseph, younger than usual, brave and resolute 
 and undismayed by the curious turn in his fortunes ; and 
 Mary with the child in her arms, happy and pretty, seated 
 securely on an amiable donkey that has neither bit nor 
 bridle. It is when one looks at Fra Angelico that one 
 understands how wise were the Old Masters to seek their 
 inspiration in the life of Christ. One cannot imagine Fra 
 Angelico's existence in a pagan country. Look, in No. 236, 
 at the six radiant and rapturous angels clustering above the 
 manger. Was there ever anything prettier ? But I am 
 not sure that I do not most covet No. 250, Christ crucified
 
 230 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 and two saints, and No. 251, the Coronation of the Virgin, 
 for their beauty of light. 
 
 In the photographs No. 246 a Deposition is unusu- 
 ally striking, but in the original, although beautiful, it is 
 far less radiant than usual with this painter. It has, how- 
 ever, such feeling as to make it especially memorable among 
 the many treatments of this subject. What is generally 
 considered the most important work in this room is the 
 Last Judgment, which is certainly extraordinarily in- 
 teresting, and in the hierarchy of heaven and the company 
 of the blest Fra Angelico is in a very acceptable mood. 
 The benignant Christ Who divides the sheep and the goats ; 
 the healthy ripe-lipped Saints and Fathers who assist at the 
 tribunal and have never a line of age or experience on their 
 blooming cheeks ; the monks and nuns, just risen from their 
 graves, who embrace each other in the meads of paradise 
 with such fervour these have much of the charm of 
 little flowers. But in delineating the damned the painter 
 is in strange country. It was a subject of which he knew 
 nothing, and the introduction among them of monks of the 
 rival order of S. Francis is mere party politics and a blot. 
 
 There are two other rooms here, but Fra Angelico spoils 
 us for them. Four panels by another Frate, but less 
 radiant, Lippo Lippi, are remarkable, particularly the 
 figure of the Virgin in the Annunciation; and there is a 
 curious series of scenes entitled "L'Albero della Croce," by 
 an Ignoto of the fourteenth century, with a Christ crucified 
 in the midst and all Scripture in medallions around him, 
 the tragedy of Adam and Eve at the foot (mutilated by 
 some chaste pedant) being very quaint. And in Angelico's 
 rooms there is a little, modest Annunciation by one of his 
 school No. 256 which shows what a good influence he 
 was, and to which the eye returns and returns. Here also,on
 
 A SURVEY OF ART 231 
 
 easels, are two portraits of Vallombrosan monks by Fra Bar- 
 tolommeo, serene, and very sympathetically painted, which 
 cause one to regret the deterioration in Italian ecclesiastic 
 physiognomy ; and Andrea del Sarto's two pretty angels, 
 which one so often finds in reproduction, are here too. 
 
 Let us now enter the first room of the collection proper 
 and begin at the very beginning of Tuscan art, for this 
 collection is historical and not fortuitous like that of the 
 Pitti. The student may here trace the progress of Tuscan 
 painting from the level to the highest peaks and downwards 
 again. The Accademia was established with this purpose 
 by that enlightened prince, Peter Leopold, Grand Duke of 
 Tuscany, in 1784. Other pictures not wholly within his 
 scheme have been added since, together with the Michel- 
 angelo statues and casts ; but they do not impair the orig- 
 inal idea. For the serious student the first room is of far 
 the most importance, for there he may begin with Cimabue 
 (1240 P-1302 ?), and Giotto (1267 P-1337), and pass steadily 
 to Luca Signorelli (1450 P-1523). For the most part the 
 pictures in this room appeal to the inquirer rather than 
 the sight-seer ; but there is not one that is without interest, 
 while three works of extraordinary charm have thoughtfully 
 been enisled, on screens, for special attention a Fra Angel- 
 ico, a Fabriano, and a Ghirlandaio. Before reaching these, 
 let us look at the walls. 
 
 The first large picture, on the left, the Cimabue, marks 
 the transition from Byzantine art to Italian art. Giovanni 
 Cimabue, who was to be the forerunner of the new art, was 
 born about 1240. At that time there was plenty of painting 
 in Italy, but it was Greek, the work of artists at Constanti- 
 nople (Byzantium), the centre of Christianity in the eastern 
 half of the Roman Empire and the fount of ecclesiastical 
 energy, and it was crude in workmanship, existing purely
 
 232 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 as an accessory of worship. Ciraabue, of whom, I may say, 
 almost nothing definite is known, and upon whom the de- 
 lightful but casual old Vasari is the earliest authority, as 
 Dante was his first eulogist, carried on the Byzantine tradi- 
 tion, but breathed a little life into it. In his picture here 
 we see him feeling his way from the unemotional painted 
 symbols of the Faith to humanity itself. One can under- 
 stand this large panel being carried (as we know the similar 
 one at S. Maria Novella was) in procession and worshipped, 
 but it is nearer to the icon of the Russian peasant of to- 
 day than to a Raphael. The Madonna is above life ; the 
 Child is a little man. This was painted, say, in 1280, as 
 an altar-piece for the Badia of S. Trinita at Florence. 
 
 Next came Giotto, Cimabue's pupil, born about 1267, 
 whom we have met already as an architect, philosopher, 
 and innovator ; and in the second picture in this room, 
 from Giotto's brush, we see life really awakening. The 
 Madonna is vivifying; the Child is nearer childhood; we 
 can believe that here are veins with blood in them. 
 Moreover, whereas Cimabue's angels brought masonry, 
 these bring flowers. It is crude, no doubt, but it is 
 enough; the new art, which was to counterfeit and even 
 extend nature, has really begun ; the mystery and glory of 
 painting are assured and the door open for Botticelli. 
 
 But much had to happen first, particularly the mastery 
 of the laws of perspective, and it was not (as we have seen) 
 until Ghiberti had got to work on his first doors, and 
 Brunelleschi was studying architecture and Uccello sitting 
 up all night at his desk, that painting as we know it 
 painting of menand women "in the round " could bedone, 
 and it was left for a youth who was not born until Giotto 
 had been dead sixty-four years to do this first as a mas- 
 ter one Tommaso di Ser Giovanni Guido da Castel San
 
 ALTAR PICTURES 233 
 
 Giovanni, known as Masaccio, or Big Tom. The three 
 great names then in the evolution of Italian painting, 
 a subject to which I return in Chapter XXV, on the Car- 
 mine, are Cimabue, Giotto, Masaccio. 
 
 We pass on at the Accademia from Cimabue's pupil 
 Giotto, to Giotto's followers, Taddeo Gaddi and Bernardo 
 Daddi, and Daddi's follower Spinello Aretino, and the long 
 dependent and interdependent line of painters. For the 
 most part they painted altar-pieces, these early craftsmen, 
 the Church being the principal patron of art. These works 
 are many of them faded and so elementary as to have but 
 an antiquarian interest; but think of the excitement in 
 those days when the picture was at last ready, and, gay in 
 its gold, was erected in the chapel ! Among the purely 
 ecclesiastical works No. 137, an Annunciation by Gio- 
 vanni del Biondo (second half of the fourteenth century), is 
 light and cheerful, and No. 142, the Crowning of the Virgin, 
 by Rosello di Jacopo Franchi (1376-1456), has some de- 
 lightful details and is everywhere joyous, with a charming 
 green pattern in it. The wedding scenes in No. 147 give 
 us Florentine life on the mundane side with some valuable 
 thoroughness, and the Pietro Lorenzetti above scenes in 
 the life of S. Umilita is very quaint and cheery and was 
 painted as early as 1316. The little Virgin adoring, No. 160, 
 in the corner, by the fertile Ignoto, is charmingly pretty. 
 
 And now for the three screens, notable among the 
 screens of the galleries of Europe as holding three of the 
 happiest pictures ever painted. The first is the Adora- 
 tion of the Magi, by Gentile da Fabriano, an artist of 
 whom one sees too little. His full name was Gentile di 
 Niccol6 di Giovanni Massi, and he was born at Fabriano 
 between 1360 and 1370, some twenty years before Fra 
 Angelico. According to Vasari he was Fra Angelico's
 
 234 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 master, but that is now considered doubtful, and yet the 
 three little scenes from the life of Christ in the predella of 
 this picture are nearer Fra Angelico in spirit and charm 
 than any, not by a follower, that I have seen. Gentile 
 did much work at Venice before he came to Florence, in 
 1422, and this picture, which is considered his masterpiece, 
 was painted in 1423 for S. Trinita. He died four years 
 later. Gentile was charming rather than great, and to 
 this work might be applied Ruskin's sarcastic description 
 of poor Ghirlandaio's frescoes, that they are mere gold- 
 smith's work ; and yet it is much more, for it has gaiety 
 and sweetness and the nice thoughtfulness that made the 
 Child a real child, interested like a child in the bald head 
 of the kneeling mage; while the predella is not to be ex- 
 celled in its modest, tender beauty by any in Florence ; and 
 predellas, I may remark again, should never be overlooked, 
 strong as the tendency is to miss them. Many a painter 
 has failed in the large space or made only a perfunctory 
 success, but in the small has achieved real feeling. Gentile's 
 Holy Family on its way to Egypt is never to be forgot- 
 ten. Not so radiant as Fra Angelico's, in the room we 
 have visited out of due course, but as charming in its own 
 manner both in personages and landscape ; while the city 
 to which Joseph leads the donkey (again without reins) is 
 the most perfect thing out of fairyland. 
 
 Ghirlandaio's picture, which is the neighbour of Gentile's, 
 is as a whole nearer life and one of his most attractive 
 works. It is, I think, excelled only by his very similar 
 Adoration of the Magi at the Spedale degli Innocenti, 
 which, however, it is difficult to see ; and it is far beyond 
 the examples at the Uffizi, which are too hot. Of the life 
 of this artist, who was Michelangelo's master, I shall speak 
 in the chapter on S. Maria Novella. This picture, which
 
 GHIRLANDAIO 235 
 
 represents the Adoration of the Shepherds, was painted in 
 1485, when the artist was thirty-six. It is essentially 
 pleasant : a religious picture on the sunny side. The Child 
 is the soul of babyish content, equally amused with its 
 thumb and the homage it is receiving. Close by is a gold- 
 finch unafraid; in the distance is a citied valley, with a 
 river winding in it ; and down a neighbouring hill, on the 
 top of which the shepherds feed their flocks, comes the 
 imposing procession of the Magi. Joseph is more than 
 commonly perplexed, and the disparity between his own 
 and his wife's age, which the old masters agreed to make 
 considerable, is more considerable than usual. 
 
 Both Gentile and Ghirlandaio chose a happy subject 
 and made it happier; Fra Angelico (for the third screen 
 picture) chose a melancholy subject and made it happy, 
 not because that was his intention, but because he could 
 not help it. He had only one set of colours and one set 
 of countenances, and since the colours were of the gayest 
 and the countenances of the serenest, the result was bound 
 to be peaceful and glad. This picture is a large "De- 
 posizione della Croce," an altar-piece for S. Trinita. 
 There is such joy in the painting and light in the sky that 
 a child would clap his hands at it all, and not least at the 
 vermilion of the Redeemer's blood. Fra Angelico gave 
 thought to every touch : and his beatific holiness floods 
 the work. Each of these three great pictures, I may add, 
 has its original frame. 
 
 The room which leads from this one is much less valu- 
 able; but Fra Bartolommeo's Vision of S. Bernard has 
 lately been brought to an easel here to give it charac- 
 ter. I find this the Frate's most beautiful work. It 
 may have details that are a little crude, and the pointed 
 nose of the Virgin is not perhaps in accordance with the
 
 236 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 best tradition, while she is too real for an apparition; 
 but the figure of the kneeling saint is masterly and the 
 landscape lovely in subject and feeling. Here too is 
 Fra Bartolommeo's portrait of Savonarola, in which the 
 reformer is shown as personating S. Peter Martyr. The 
 picture was not painted from life, but from an earlier 
 portrait. Fra Bartolommeo had some reason to know what 
 Savonarola was like, for he was his personal friend and a 
 brother in the same convent of S. Marco, a few yards from 
 the Accademia, across the square. He was born in 1475 
 and was apprenticed to the painter Cosimo Rosselli; but 
 he learned more from studying Masaccio's frescoes at the 
 Carmine and the work of Leonardo da Vinci. It was in 
 1495 that he came under the influence of Savonarola, and 
 he was the first artist to run home and burn his studies 
 from the nude in response to the preacher's denunciations. 
 Three years later, when Savonarola was an object of hatred 
 and the convent of S. Marco was besieged, the artist was 
 with him, and he then made a vow that if he lived he would 
 join the order; and this promise he kept, although not 
 until Savonarola had been executed. For a while, as a 
 monk, he laid aside the brush, but in 1506 he resumed it 
 and painted until his death, in 1517. He was buried at 
 S. Marco. 
 
 In his less regenerate days Fra Bartolommeo's greatest 
 friend was the jovial Mariotto Albertinelli, whose rather 
 theatrical Annunciation hangs between a number of the 
 monk's other portraits, all very interesting. Of Alber- 
 tinelli I have spoken earlier. Before leaving, look at the 
 tiny Ignoto next the door a Madonna and Child, the 
 child eating a pomegranate. It is a little picture to steal. 
 
 In the next room are a number of the later and showy 
 painters, such as Carlo Dolci, Lorenzo Lippi, and Francesco
 
 THE ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY DOMENICO GHIRLANDAIO IN THE ACCADEM1A
 
 THE "PRIMAVERA" 237 
 
 Furini, all bold, dashing, self-satisfied hands, in whom (so 
 near the real thing) one can take no interest. Nothing to 
 steal here. 
 
 Returning through Sala Prima we come to the Sala del 
 Perugino and are among the masters once more riper and 
 richer than most of those we have already seen, for Tuscan 
 art here reaches its finest flower. Perugino is here and 
 Botticelli, Fra Bartolommeoand Leonardo, LucaSignorelli, 
 Fra Lippo Lippi and Filippino Lippi. And here is a Ma- 
 saccio. The great Perugino Assumption has all his mellow 
 sunset calm, and never was a landscape more tenderly sym- 
 pathetic. The same painter's Deposition hangs next, and the 
 custodian brings a magnifying glass that the tears on the 
 Magdalen's cheek may be more closely observed ; but the 
 third, No. 53, Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, is finer, 
 and here again the landscape and light are perfect. For 
 the rest, there is a Royal Academy Andrea and a formal 
 Ghirlandaio. 
 
 And now we come to Botticelli, who although less 
 richly represented in numbers than at the UfBzi, is for 
 the majority of his admirers more to be sought here, by 
 reason of the "Primavera" allegory, which is the Accade- 
 mia's most powerful magnet. The Botticellis are divided 
 between two rooms, the "Primavera" being in the first. 
 The first feeling one has is how much cooler it is here than 
 among the Peruginos, and how much gayer; for not only 
 is there the "Primavera," but Fra Lippo Lippi is here too, 
 with a company of angels helping to crown the Virgin, and 
 a very sweet, almost transparent, little Madonna adoring 
 No. 79 which one cannot forget. 
 
 The "Primavera" is not wearing too well : one sees that 
 at once. Being in tempera it cannot be cleaned, and a 
 dulness is overlaying it; but nothing can deprive the
 
 238 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 figure of Spring of her joy and movement, a floating type 
 of conquering beauty and youth. The most wonderful 
 thing about this wonderful picture is that it should have 
 been painted when it was : that, suddenly, out of a solid 
 phalanx of Madonnas should have stepped these radiant 
 creatures of the joyous earth, earthy and joyful. And 
 not only that they should have so surprisingly and sud- 
 denly emerged, but that after all these years this figure 
 of Spring should still be the finest of her kind. That is the 
 miracle ! Luca Signorelli's flowers at the Uffizi remain 
 the best, but Botticelli's are very thoughtful, and before 
 the grass turned black they must have been very lovely; 
 the exquisite drawing of the irises in the right-hand 
 corner can still be traced, although the colour has gone. 
 The effect now is rather like a Chinese painting. For the 
 history of the "Primavera" and its signification, one must 
 turn back to Chapter X. 
 
 I spoke just now of Luca's flowers. There are others in 
 his picture in this room botanist's flowers as distinguished 
 from painter's flowers : the wild strawberry beautifully 
 straggling. This picture is one of the most remarkable 
 in all Florence to me : a Crucifixion to which the perishing 
 of the colour has given an effect of extreme delicacy, while 
 the group round the cross on the distant mound has a 
 quality for which one usually goes to Spanish art. The 
 Magdalen is curiously sulky and human. Into the skull 
 at the foot of the cross creeps a lizard. 
 
 This room has three Lippo Lippis, which is an interest- 
 ing circumstance when we remember that that dissolute 
 brother was the greatest influence on Botticelli. The 
 largest is the Coronation of the Virgin with its many lilies 
 a picture which one must delight in, so happy and 
 crowded is it, but which never seems to me quite what it
 
 VERROCCHIO AND LEONARDO 239 
 
 should be. The most fascinating part of it is the figures 
 in the two little medallions : two perfect pieces of colour 
 and design. The kneeling monk on the right is Lippo 
 Lippi himself. Near it is the Madonna adoring, No. 
 79, of which I have spoken, with herself so luminous and 
 the background so dark; the other No. 82 is less re- 
 markable. No. 81, above it, is by Browning's Pacchiorotto 
 (who worked in distemper) ; close by is the Masaccio, 
 which has a deep, quiet beauty ; and beneath it is a richly 
 coloured predella by Andrea del Sarto, the work of a few 
 hours, I should guess, and full of spirit and vigour. It con- 
 sists of four scriptural scenes which might be called the direct 
 forerunners of Sir John Gilbert and the modern illustrators. 
 Lastly we have what is in many ways the most interesting 
 picture in Florence No. 71, the Baptism of Christ for 
 it is held by some authorities to be the only known paint- 
 ing by Verrocchio, whose sculptures we saw in the Bargello 
 and at Or San Michele, while in one of the angels that 
 surely on the left we are to see the hand of his pupil 
 Leonardo da Vinci. Their faces are singularly sweet. 
 Other authorities consider not only that Verrocchio painted 
 the whole picture himself but that he painted also the 
 Annunciation at the Uffizi to which Leonardo's name is 
 given. Be that as it may and we shall never know [this 
 is a beautiful thing. According to Vasari it was the 
 excellence of Leonardo's contribution which decided Ver- 
 rocchio to give up the brush. Among the thoughts of 
 Leonardo is one which comes to mind with peculiar force 
 before this work when we know its story : " Poor is the 
 pupil who does not surpass his master." 
 
 The second Sala di Botticelli has not the value of the 
 first. It has magnificent examples of Botticelli's sacred 
 work, but the other pictures are not the equal of those in
 
 240 THE ACCADEMIA 
 
 the other rooms. Chief of the Botticellis is No. 85, 
 " The Virgin and Child with divers Saints," in which there 
 are certain annoying and restless elements. One feels that 
 in the accessories the flooring, the curtains, and gilt the 
 painter was wasting his time, while the Child is too big. 
 Botticelli was seldom too happy with his babies. But the 
 face of the Saint in green and blue on the left is most 
 exquisitely painted, and the Virgin has rather less troubled 
 beauty than usual. The whole effect is not quite spiritual, 
 and the symbolism of the nails and the crown of thorns 
 held up for the Child to see is rather too cruel and obvious. 
 I like better the smaller picture with the same title No. 
 88 in which the Saints at each side are wholly beautiful 
 in Botticelli's wistful way, and the painting of their heads 
 and head-dresses is so perfect as to fill one with a kind of 
 despair. But taken altogether one must consider Bot- 
 ticelli's triumph in the Accademia to be pagan rather than 
 sacred. 
 
 No. 8, called officially School of Verrocchio, and by one 
 firm of photographers Botticini, and by another Botti- 
 celli, is a fine free thing, low in colour, with a quiet land- 
 scape, and is altogether a delight. It represents Tobias and 
 the three angels, and Raphael moves nobly, although 
 not with quite such a step as the radiant figure in a some- 
 what similar picture in our own National Gallery No. 781 
 which, once confidently given to Verrocchio, is now attrib- 
 uted to Botticini; while our No. 296, which the visitor 
 from Florence on returning to London should hasten to ex- 
 amine, is no longer Verrocchio but School of Verrocchio. 
 When we think of these attributions and then look at No. 
 154 in the Accademia another Tobias and the Angel, 
 here given to Botticini we have a concrete object lesson in 
 the perilous career that awaits the art expert.
 
 BRONZINO'S TAPESTRIES 241 
 
 The other pictures here are two sunny panels by Ridolfo 
 Ghirlandaio, high up, with nice easy colouring ; No. 92, an 
 Adoration of the Shepherds by Lorenzo di Credi, with a 
 good landscape and all very sweet and quiet; No. 98 a 
 Deposition by Filippino Lippi and Perugino, in col- 
 laboration, with very few signs of Filippino ; and No. 90 a 
 Resurrection by Raffaellino del Garbo, an uncommon 
 painter in Florence ; the whole thing a tour de force, but 
 not important. 
 
 And now let us look at the Angelicos again. 
 
 Before leaving the Accademia for the last time, one 
 should glance at the tapestries near the main entrance, 
 just for fun. That one in which Adam names the animals 
 is so delightfully naive that it ought to be reproduced as a 
 nursery wall-paper. The creatures pass in review in four 
 processions, and Adam must have had to be uncommonly 
 quick to make up his mind first and then rattle out their 
 resultant names in the time. The main procession is that of 
 the larger quadrupeds, headed by the unicorn in single glory ; 
 and the moment chosen by the artist is that in which the 
 elephant, having just heard his name (for the first time) 
 and not altogether liking it, is turning towards Adam in 
 surprised remonstrance. The second procession is of rep- 
 tiles, led by the snail ; the third, the smaller quadrupeds, 
 led by four rats, followed desperately close (but of course 
 under the white flag) by two cats ; while the fourth all 
 sorts and conditions of birds streams through the air. 
 The others in this series are all delightful, not the least 
 being that in which God, having finished His work, takes 
 Adam's arm and flies with him over the earth to point out 
 its merits.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 TWO MONASTERIES AND A PROCESSION] 
 
 The Certosa A Company of Uncles The Cells Machiavelli Im- 
 
 pruneta The della Robbias Pontassieve Pelago Milton's simile 
 
 Vallombrosa S. Gualberto Prato and the Lippis The Grassina 
 
 Albergo An American invasion The Procession of the Dead Christ 
 
 My loss. 
 
 T7WERY one who merely visits Florence holds it a duty 
 J-J to bring home at least one flask of the Val d'Ema 
 liqueur from the Carthusian monastery four or five miles 
 distant from the city, not because that fiery distillation is 
 peculiarly attractive but because the vessels which contain 
 it are at once pretty decorations and evidences of travel 
 and culture. They can be bought in Florence itself, it is 
 true (at a shop at the corner of the Via de' Cerretani, close 
 to the Baptistery), but the Certosa is far too interesting 
 to miss, if one has time to spare from the city's own 
 treasures. The trams start from the Mercato Nuovo and 
 come along the Via dell' Arcivescovado to the Baptistery, 
 and so to the Porta Romana and out into the hilly country. 
 The ride is dull and rather tiresome, for there is much 
 waiting at sidings, but the expedition becomes attractive 
 immediately the tram is left. There is then a short walk, 
 principally up the long narrow approach to the monastery 
 gates, outside which, when I was there, was sitting a 
 beggar at a stone table, waiting for the bowl of soup to 
 which all who ask are entitled. 
 
 242
 
 THE CERTOSA 243 
 
 Passing within the courtyard you ring the bell on the 
 right and enter the waiting hall, from which, in the course 
 of time, when a sufficient party has been gathered, an elderly 
 monk in a white robe leads you away. How many monks 
 there may be, I cannot say ; but of the few of whom I caught 
 a glimpse, all were alike in the possession of white beards, 
 and all suggested uncles in fancy dress. Ours spoke good 
 French and was clearly a man of parts. Lulled by his 
 soothing descriptions I passed in a kind of dream through 
 this ancient abode of peace. 
 
 The Certosa dates from 1341 and was built and endowed 
 by a wealthy merchant named Niccolo Acciaioli, after 
 whom the Lungarno Acciaioli is named. The members 
 of the family are still buried here, certain of the tomb- 
 stones bearing dates of the present century. To-day it is 
 little but a show place, the cells of the monks being mostly 
 empty and the sale of the liqueur its principal reason for 
 existence. But the monks who are left take a pride in 
 their church, which is attributed to Orcagna, and its pos- 
 sessions, among which come first the relief monuments of 
 early Acciaioli in the floor of one of the chapels the 
 founder's being perhaps also the work of Orcagna, while 
 that of his son Lorenzo, who died in 1353, is attributed 
 by our cicerone to Donatello, but by others to an unknown 
 hand. It is certainly very beautiful. These tombs are the 
 very reverse of those which we saw in S. Croce ; for those 
 bear the obliterating traces of centuries of footsteps, so that 
 some are nearly flat with the stones, whereas these have 
 been railed off for ever and have lost nothing. The other 
 famous Certosa tomb is that of Cardinal Angelo Acciaioli, 
 which, once given to Donatello, is now sometimes attrib- 
 uted to Giuliano di Sangallo and sometimes to his son 
 Francesco.
 
 244 TWO MONASTERIES AND A PROCESSION 
 
 The Certosa has a few good pictures, but it is as a 
 monastery that it is most interesting : as one of the myriad 
 lonely convents of Italy, which one sees so constantly from 
 the train, perched among the Apennines, and did not expect 
 ever to enter. The cloisters which surround the garden, 
 in the centre of which is a well, and beneath which is the 
 distillery, are very memorable, not only for their beauty 
 but for the sixty and more medallions of saints and evan- 
 gelists all round it by Giovanni della Robbia. Here the 
 monks have sunned themselves, and here been buried, these 
 five and a half centuries. One suite of rooms is shown, with 
 its own little private garden and no striking discomfort 
 except the hole in the wall by the bed, through which the 
 sleeper is awakened. From its balcony one sees the 
 Ema far below and hears the roar of a weir, and away in the 
 distance is Florence with the Duomo and a third of Giotto's 
 Campanile visible above the intervening hills. 
 
 Having shown you all the sights, the monk leads you 
 again to the entrance hall and bids you good-bye, with 
 murmurs of surprise and a hint of reproach on discovering 
 a coin in his hand, for which, however, none the less he 
 manages in the recesses of his robe to find a place ; and you 
 are then directed to the room where the liqueur, together 
 with sweets and picture post-cards, is sold by another 
 monk, assisted by a lay attendant, and the visit to the 
 Certosa is over. 
 
 The tram that passes the Certosa continues to S. Cas- 
 ciano in the Chianti district (but much wine is called 
 Chianti that never came from here), where there is a point 
 of interest in the house to which Machiavelli retired in 
 1512, to give himself to literature and to live that wonder- 
 ful double life a peasant loafer by day in the fields and 
 the village inn, and at night, dressed in his noblest clothes,
 
 IMPRUNETA 245 
 
 the cold, sagacious mentor of the rulers of mankind. But 
 at S. Casciano I did not stop. 
 
 And farther still one comes to the village of Impruneta, 
 after climbing higher and higher, with lovely calm valleys 
 on either side coloured by silver olive groves and vivid 
 wheat and maize, and studded with white villas and vil- 
 lages and church towers. On the road every woman in 
 every doorway plaits straw with rapid fingers just as if we 
 were in Bedfordshire. Impruneta is famous for its new 
 terra-cotta vessels and its ancient della Robbias. For in 
 the church is some of Luca's most exquisite work an altar- 
 piece with a frieze of aerial angels under it, and a stately 
 white saint on either side, and the loveliest decorated 
 columns imaginable; while in an adjoining chapel is a 
 Christ crucified, mourned by the most dignified and melan- 
 choly of Magdalens. Andrea della Robbia is here too, 
 and here also is a richly designed cantoria by Mino da 
 Fiesole. The village is not in the regular programme of 
 visitors, and Baedeker ignores it ; hence perhaps the ex- 
 citement which an arrival from Florence causes, for the 
 children turn out in battalions. The church is very dirty, 
 and so indeed is everything else ; but no amount of grime 
 can disguise the charm of the cloisters. 
 
 The Certosa is a mere half-hour from Florence, Impru- 
 neta an hour and a half ; but Vallombrosa asks a long day. 
 One can go by rail, changing at Sant' Ellero into the 
 expensive rack-and-pinion car which climbs through the 
 vineyards to a point near the summit, and has, since it was 
 opened, brought to the mountain so many new residents, 
 whose little villas cling to the western slopes among the 
 lizards, and, in summer, are smitten unbearably by the sun. 
 But the best way to visit the monastery and the groves is 
 by road. A motor-car no doubt makes little of the jour-
 
 246 TWO MONASTERIES AND A PROCESSION 
 
 ney; but a carriage and pair such as I chartered at 
 Florence for forty-five lire has to be away before seven, 
 and, allowing three hours on the top, is not back again 
 until the same hour in the evening ; and this, the ancient 
 way, with the beat of eight hoofs in one's ears, is the right 
 way. 
 
 For several miles the road and the river the Arno run 
 side by side and the railway close by too through vener- 
 able villages whose inhabitants derive their living either 
 from the soil or the water, and amid vineyards all the time. 
 Here and there a white villa is seen, but for the most part 
 this is peasants' district : one such villa on the left, before 
 Pontassieve, having about it, and on each side of its drive, 
 such cypresses as one seldom sees and only Gozzoli or Mr. 
 Sargent could rightly paint, each in his own style. Not far 
 beyond, in a scrap of meadow by the road, sat a girl knitting 
 in the morning sun with a placid glance at us as we rat- 
 tled by ; and ten hours later, when we rattled past again, 
 there she still was, still knitting, in the evening sun, and 
 again her quiet eyes were just raised and dropped. 
 
 At Pontassieve we stopped awhile for coffee at an inn 
 at the corner of the square of pollarded limes, and while it 
 was preparing watched the little crumbling town at work, 
 particularly the cooper opposite, who was finishing a mas- 
 sive cask within whose recesses good Chianti is doubtless 
 now maturing; and then on the white road again, to the 
 turning, a mile farther on, to the left, where one bids the 
 Arno farewell till the late afternoon. Steady climbing 
 now, and then a turn to the right and we see Pelago before 
 us, perched on its crags, and by and by come to it a tiny 
 town, with a clean and alluring inn, very different from 
 the squalor of Pontassieve : famous in art and particularly 
 Florentine art as being the birthplace of Lorenzo Ghiberti,
 
 MILTON'S SIMILE 247 
 
 who made the Baptistery doors. From Pelago the road 
 descends with extreme steepness to a brook in a rocky 
 valley, at a bridge over which the real climb begins, to go 
 steadily on (save for another swift drop before Tosi) until 
 Vallombrosa is reached, winding through woods all the way, 
 chiefly chestnut those woods which gave Milton, who was 
 here in 1638, his famous simile. 1 The heat was now becom- 
 ing intense (it was mid-September) and the horses were 
 suffering, and most of this last stage was done at walking 
 pace; but such was the exhilaration of the air, such the 
 delight of the aromas which the breeze continually wafted 
 from the woods, now sweet, now pungent, and always 
 refreshing, that one felt no fatigue even though walk- 
 ing too. And so at last the monastery, and what was 
 at that moment better than anything, lunch. 
 
 The beauty and joy of Vallombrosa, I may say at once, 
 are Nature's, not man's. The monastery, which is now a 
 Government school of forestry, is ugly and unkempt ; the 
 hotel is unattractive; the few people one meets want to 
 sell something or take you for a drive. But in an instant 
 in any direction one can be in the woods and at this level 
 they are pine woods, soft underfoot and richly perfumed 
 and a quarter of an hour's walking brings the view. It is 
 then that you realize you are on a mountain indeed. 
 
 1 "Thick as leaves in Vallombrosa" has come to be the form of words 
 as most people quote them. But Milton wrote (" Paradise Lost," Book I, 
 300-304) : 
 
 "He called 
 
 His legions, angel-forms, who lay entranced 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
 In Vallombrosa where the Etrurian shades, 
 High over-arched, embower." 
 
 Wordsworth, by the way, when he visited Vallombrosa with Crabb 
 Robinson in 1837, wrote an inferior poem there, in a rather common 
 metre, in honour of Milton's association with it.
 
 248 TWO MONASTERIES AND A PROCESSION 
 
 Florence is to the north-west in the long Arno valley, 
 which is here precipitous and narrow. The river is far 
 below if you slipped you would slide into it fed by 
 tumbling Apennine streams from both walls. The top of 
 the mountain is heathery like Scotland, and open ; but not 
 long will it be so, for everywhere are the fenced parallelo- 
 grams which indicate that a villa is to be erected. Nothing, 
 however, can change the mountain air or the glory of the 
 surrounding heights. 
 
 Another view, unbroken by villas but including the 
 monastery and the Foresters' Hotel in the immediate fore- 
 ground, and extending as far as Florence itself (on suitable 
 days), is obtained from II Paradisino, a white building on 
 a ledge which one sees from the hotel above the monastery. 
 But that is not by any means the top. The view covers 
 much of the way by which we came hither. 
 
 Of the monastery of Vallombrosa we have had f oreshado w- 
 ings in Florence. We saw at the Accademia two exquisite 
 portraits by Fra Bartolommeo of Vallombrosan monks. 
 We saw at the Bargello the remains of a wonderful frieze 
 by Benedetto da Rovezzano for the tomb of the founder of 
 the order, S. Giovanni Gualberto ; we shall see at S. Mini- 
 ato scenes in the saint's life on the site of the ancient chapel 
 where the crucifix bent and blessed him. As the head of 
 the monastery Gualberto was famous for the severity and 
 thoroughness of his discipline. But though a martinet as 
 an abbot, personally he was humble and mild. His advice 
 on all kinds of matters is said to have been invited even by 
 kings and popes. He invented the system of lay brothers 
 to help with the domestic work of the convent ; and after 
 a life of holiness, which comprised several miracles, he died 
 in 1073 and was subsequently canonized. 
 
 The monastery, as I have said, is now secularized, save
 
 MILTON AMENDED 249 
 
 for the chapel, where three resident monks perform service. 
 One may wander through its rooms and see in the refectory, 
 beneath portraits of famous brothers, the tables now laid 
 for young foresters. The museum of forestry is interesting 
 to those interested in museums of forestry. 
 
 It was to the monastery at Vallombrosa that the Brown- 
 ings travelled in 1848 when Mrs. Browning was ill. But 
 the abbot could not break the rules in regard to women, 
 and after five days they had to return to Florence. Brown- 
 ing used to play the organ in the chapel as, it is said, Milton 
 had done two centuries earlier. 
 
 At such a height and with only a short season the hotel 
 proprietors must do what they can, and prices do not rule 
 low. A departing American was eyeing his bill with a 
 rueful glance as we were leaving. "Milton had it wrong," 
 he said to me (with the freemasonry of the plucked, for I 
 knew him not), "what he meant was, 'thick as thieves." 
 
 We returned by way of Sant' Ellero, the gallant horses 
 trotting steadily down the hill, and then beside the Arno 
 once more all the way to Florence. It chanced to be a 
 great day in the city September 20th, the anniversary of 
 the final defeat of papal temporal power, in 1870 which 
 we were not sorry to have missed, the first tidings coming 
 to us from the beautiful tower of the Palazzo Vecchio which 
 in honour of the occasion had been picked out with fairy 
 lamps. 
 
 Among the excursions which I think ought to be made 
 if one is in Florence for a justifying length of time is a 
 visit to Prato. This ancient town one should see for 
 several things : for its age and for its walls ; for its great 
 piazza (with a pile of vividly dyed yarn in the midst) sur- 
 rounded by arches under which coppersmiths hammer all 
 day at shining rotund vessels, while their wives plait
 
 250 TWO MONASTERIES AND A PROCESSION 
 
 straw; for Filippino Lippi's exquisite Madonna in a 
 little mural shrine at the narrow end of the piazza, which 
 a woman (fetched by a crowd of ragged boys) will unlock 
 for threepence; and for the cathedral, with Filippino's 
 dissolute father's frescoes in it, the Salome being one of 
 the most interesting pre- Botticelli scenes in Italian art. If 
 only it had its colour what a wonder of lightness and 
 beauty this still would be ! But probably most people are 
 attracted to Prato chiefly by Donatello and Michelozzo's 
 outdoor pulpit, the frieze of which is a kind of prentice 
 work for the famous cantoria in the museum of the cathedral 
 at Florence, with just such wanton boys dancing round it. 
 On Good Friday evening in the lovely dying April light 
 I paid thirty centimes to be taken by tram to Grassina 
 to see the famous procession of the Gesu Morto. The 
 number of people on the same errand having thrown out 
 the tram service, we had very long waits, while the road was 
 thronged with other vehicles; and the result was I was 
 tired enough having been standing all the way when 
 Grassina was reached, for festivals six miles out of Florence 
 at seven in the evening disarrange good habits. But a few 
 pence spent in the albergo on bread and cheese and wine 
 soon restored me. A queer cavern of a place, this inn, 
 with rough tables, rows and rows of wine flasks, and an 
 open fire behind the bar, tended by an old woman, from 
 which everything good to eat proceeded rapidly without 
 dismay roast chicken and fish in particular. A strapping 
 girl with high cheek bones and a broad, dark, comely face 
 washed plates and glasses assiduously, and two waiters, with 
 eyes as near together as monkeys', served the customers 
 with bewildering intelligence. It was the sort of inn that 
 in England would throw up its hands if you asked even 
 for cold beef.
 
 GRASSINA 251 
 
 The piazza of Grassina, which, although merely a village, 
 is enterprising enough to have a cinematoscope hall, was 
 full of stalls given chiefly to the preparation and sale of 
 cake like the Dutch wafelen, and among the stalls were 
 conjurors, cheap-jacks, singers, and dice throwers; while 
 every moment brought its fresh motor-car or carriage load, 
 nearly all speaking English with a nasal twang. Mean- 
 while everyone shouted, the naphtha flared, the drums 
 beat, the horses champed. The street was full too, chiefly 
 of peasants, but among them myriad resolute American 
 virgins, in motor veils, whom nothing can ever surprise; 
 a few American men, sceptical, as ever, of anything ever 
 happening ; here and there a diffident Englishwoman and 
 Englishman, more in the background, but destined in the 
 end to see all. But what I chiefly noticed was the native 
 girls, with their proud bosoms carried high and nothing 
 on their heads. They at any rate know their own future. 
 No rushing over the globe for them, but the simple natural 
 home life and children. 
 
 In the gloom the younger girls in white muslin were 
 like pretty ghosts, each followed by a solicitous mother 
 giving a touch here and a touch there mothers who once 
 wore muslin too, will wear it no more, and are now happy 
 in pride in their daughters. And very little girls too 
 mere tots wearing wings, who very soon were to join the 
 procession as angels. 
 
 And all the while the darkness was growing, and on the 
 hill where the church stands lights were beginning to move 
 about, in that mysterious way which torches have when a 
 procession is being mobilized, while all the villas on the 
 hills around had their rows of candles. 
 
 And then the shifting flames came gradually into a mass 
 and took a steady upward progress, and the melancholy
 
 252 TWO MONASTERIES AND A PROCESSION 
 
 strains of an ancient ecclesiastical lamentation reached our 
 listening ears. As the lights drew nearer I left the bank 
 where all the Mamies and Sadies with their Mommas were 
 stationed and walked down into the river valley to meet 
 the vanguard. On the bridge I found a little band of 
 Roman soldiers on horseback, without stirrups, and had a 
 few words with one of them as to his anachronistic ciga- 
 rette, and then the first torches arrived, carried by proud 
 little boys in red ; and after the torches the little girls in 
 muslin veils, which were, however, for the most part dis- 
 arranged for the better recognition of relations and even 
 more perhaps for recognition by relations : and very pretty 
 this recognition was on both sides. And then the village 
 priests in full canonicals, looking a little self-conscious; 
 and after them the dead Christ on a litter carried by a 
 dozen contadini, who had a good deal to say to each other 
 as they bore Him. 
 
 This was the same dead Christ which had been lying in 
 state in the church, for the past few days, to be worshipped 
 and kissed by the peasantry. I had seen a similar image 
 at Settignano the day before and had watched how the 
 men took it. They began by standing in groups in the 
 piazza, gossipping. Then two or three would break away 
 and make for the church. There, all among the women 
 and children, half-shyly, half-defiantly, they pecked at the 
 plaster flesh and returned to resume the conversation in the 
 piazza with a new serenity and confidence in their hearts. 
 
 After the dead Christ came a triumphal car of the very 
 little girls with wings, signifying I know not what, but 
 intensely satisfying to the onlookers. One little wet-nosed 
 cherub I patted, so chubby and innocent she was; and 
 Heaven send that the impulse profited me ! This car was 
 drawn by an ancient white horse, amiable and tractable as a
 
 AN IRONICAL FINISH 253 
 
 saint, but as bewildered as I as to the meaning of the whole 
 strange business. After the car of angels a stalwart body 
 of white-vestmented singers, sturdy fellows with black 
 moustaches who had been all day among the vines, or 
 steering placid white oxen through the furrows, and were 
 now lifting their voices in a miserere. And after them 
 the painted plaster Virgin, carried as upright as possible, 
 and then more torches and the wailing band ; and after 
 the band another guard of Roman soldiers. 
 
 Such was the Grassina procession. It passed slowly and 
 solemnly through the town from the hill and up the hill 
 again ; and not soon shall I forget the mournf ulness of the 
 music, which nothing of tawdriness in the constituents 
 of the procession itself could rid of impressiveness and 
 beauty. One thing is certain all processions, by day or 
 night, should first descend a hill and then ascend one. All 
 should walk to melancholy strains. Indeed, a joyful pro- 
 cession becomes an impossible thought after this. 
 
 And then I sank luxuriously into a corner seat in the 
 waiting tram, and, seeking for the return journey's thirty 
 centimes, found that during the proceedings my purse had 
 been stolen.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 S. MARCO 
 
 Andrea del Castagno "The Last Supper" The stolen Madonna 
 Fra Angelico's frescoes " Little Antony " The good archbishop The 
 Buonuomini Savonarola The death of Lorenzo the Magnificent Pope 
 Alexander VI The Ordeal by Fire The execution TheS. Marco cells 
 The cloister frescoes Ghirlandaio's "Last Supper" Relics of old 
 Florence Pico and Politian Piero di Cosimo Andrea del Sarto. 
 
 FROM the Accademia it is but a step to S. Marco, across 
 the Piazza, but it is well first to go a little beyond 
 that in order to see a certain painting which both chrono- 
 logically and as an influence comes before a painting that 
 we shall find in the Museo S. Marco. We therefore cross 
 the Piazza S. Marco to the Via d' Arrazzieri, which leads 
 into the Via 27 Aprile, 1 where at a door on the left, marked 
 A, is an ancient refectory, preserved as a picture gallery : 
 the Cenacolo di S. Apollonia, all that is kept sacred of 
 the monastery of S. Apollonia, now a military establish- 
 ment. This room is important to students of art in con- 
 taining so much work of Andrea del Castagno (1390-1457), 
 to whom Vasari gives so black a character. The portrait 
 frescoes are from the Villa Pandolfini (previously Carducci), 
 and among them are Boccaccio, Petrarch, and Dante who 
 is here rather less ascetic than usual none of whom the 
 painter could have seen. There is also a very charming 
 
 1 27 April, 1859, the day that the war with Austria was proclaimed. 
 
 254
 
 JUDAS IN PAINT 255 
 
 little cupid carrying a huge peacock plume. But " The Last 
 Supper" is the glory of the room. This work, which be- 
 longs to the middle of the fifteenth century, is interesting as 
 a real effort at psychology. Leonardo makes Judas leave 
 his seat to ask if it is he that is meant that being the 
 dramatic moment chosen by this prince of painters: 
 Castagno calls attention to Judas as an undesirable member 
 of the little band of disciples by placing him apart, the 
 only one on his side of the table ; which was avoiding the 
 real task, since naturally when one of the company was 
 forced into so sinister a position the question would be 
 already answered. Castagno indeed renders Judas so 
 obviously untrustworthy as to make it a surprise that he 
 ever was admitted among the disciples (or wished to be one) 
 at all ; while Vasari blandly suggests that he is the very 
 image of the painter himself. Other positions which later 
 artists converted into a convention may also be noted : 
 John, for example, is reclining on the table in an ecstasy of 
 affection and fidelity; while the Florentine loggia as the 
 scene of the meal was often reproduced later. 
 
 Andrea del Castagno began life as a farm lad, but was 
 educated as an artist at the cost of one of the less notable 
 Medici. He had a vigorous way with his brush, as we see 
 here and have seen elsewhere. In the Duomo, for example, 
 we saw his equestrian portrait of Niccolo da Tolentino, a 
 companion to Uccello's Hawkwood. When the Albizzi 
 and Peruzzi intrigues which had led to the banishment of 
 Cosimo de' Medici came to their final frustration with the 
 triumphant return of Cosimo, it was Andrea who was com- 
 missioned by the Signoria to paint for the outside of the 
 Bargello a picture of the leaders of the insurrection, upside 
 down. Vasari is less to be trusted in his dates and facts 
 in his memoir of Andrea del Castagno than anywhere else ;
 
 256 S. MARCO 
 
 for he states that he commemorated the failure of the 
 Pazzi Conspiracy (which occurred twenty years after his 
 death), and accuses him not only of murdering his fellow- 
 painter Domenico Veneziano but confessing to the crime ; 
 the best answer to which allegation is that Domenico 
 survived Andrea by four years. 
 
 We may now return to S. Marco. The convent as we 
 now see it was built by Michelozzo, Donatello's friend and 
 partner and the friend also of Cosimo de' Medici, at whose 
 cost he worked here. Antonino, the saintly head of the 
 monastery, having suggested to Cosimo that he should 
 apply some of his wealth, not always too nicely obtained, 
 to the Lord, Cosimo began literally to squander money on 
 S. Marco, dividing his affection between S. Lorenzo, which 
 he completed upon the lines laid down by his father, and 
 this Dominican monastery, where he even had a cell 
 reserved for his own use, with a bedroom in addition, 
 whither he might now and again retire for spiritual 
 refreshment and quiet. 
 
 It was at S. Marco that Cosimo kept the MSS. which 
 he was constantly collecting, and which now, after curious 
 vicissitudes, are lodged in Michelangelo's library at S. 
 Lorenzo; and on his death he left them to the monks. 
 Cosimo's librarian was Tommaso Parenticelli, a little busy 
 man, who, to the general astonishment, on the death of 
 Eugenius IV became Pope and took the name of Nicholas 
 V. His energies as Pontiff went rather towards learning 
 and art than anything else : he laid the foundations of the 
 Vatican library, on the model of Cosimo's, and persuaded 
 Fra Angelico to Rome to paint Vatican frescoes. 
 
 The magnets which draw every one who visits Florence 
 to S. Marco are first Fra Angelico, and secondly Savonarola, 
 or first Savonarola, and secondly Fra Angelico, according
 
 THE VISION OF S. BERNARD 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY FRA BARTOLOSOIEO IN THE ACCADEMIA
 
 THE STOLEN ANGELICO 257 
 
 as one is constituted. Fra Angelico, at Cosimo's desire 
 and cost, came from Fiesole to paint here ; while Girolamo 
 Savonarola, forced to leave Ferrara during the war, entered 
 these walls in 1482. Fra Angelico in his single crucifixion 
 picture in the first cloisters and in his great scene of the 
 Mount of Olives in the chapter house shows himself less 
 incapable of depicting unhappiness than we have yet seen 
 him ; but the most memorable of the ground-floor frescoes 
 is the symbol of hospitality over the door of the wayfarers' 
 room, where Christ is being welcomed by two Dominicans 
 in the way that Dominicans (as contrasted with scoundrelly 
 Franciscans) would of course welcome Him. In this 
 Ospizio are three reliquaries which Fra Angelico painted 
 for S. Maria Novella, now preserved here in a glass case. 
 They represent the Madonna della Stella, the Corona- 
 tion of the Virgin, and the Adoration of the Magi. 
 All are in Angelico's happiest manner, with plenty of 
 gold; and the predella of the Coronation is the prettiest 
 thing possible, with its blue saints gathered about a blue 
 Mary and Joseph, who bend over the Baby. 
 
 The Madonna della Stella is the picture which was stolen 
 in 191 1 , but quickly recovered. It is part of the strange com- 
 plexity of this world that it should equally contain artists 
 such as Fra Angelico and thieves such as those who planned 
 and carried out this robbery : nominally custodians of the 
 museum. To repeat one of Vasari's sentences : " Some 
 say that he never took up his brush without first making 
 a prayer." . . . 
 
 The " Peter " with his finger to his lips, over the sacristy, 
 is reminding the monks that that room is vowed to 
 silence. In the chapter house is the large Crucifixion by 
 the same gentle hand, his greatest work in Florence, and 
 very fine and true in character. Beneath it are portraits of
 
 258 S. MARCO 
 
 seventeen famous Dominicans with S. Dominic in the 
 midst. Note the girl with the scroll in the right how 
 gay and light the colouring. Upstairs, in the cells, and 
 pre-eminently in the passage, where his best known An- 
 nunciation is to be seen, Angelico is at his best. In each cell 
 is a little fresco reminding the brother of the life of 
 Christ and of those by Angelico it may be said that 
 each is as simple as it can be and as sweet : easy lines, 
 easy colours, with the very spirit of holiness shining out. 
 I think perhaps that the Coronation of the Virgin in the 
 ninth cell, reproduced in this volume, is my favourite, 
 as it is of many persons; but the Annunciation in the 
 third, the two Maries at the Sepulchre in the eighth, and 
 the Child in the Stable in the fifth, are ever memorable 
 too. In the cell set apart for Cosimo de' Medici, No. 38, 
 which the officials point out, is an Adoration of the Magi, 
 painted there at Cosimo's express wish, that he might be 
 reminded of the humility proper to rulers; and here we 
 get one of the infrequent glimpses of this best and wisest 
 of the Medici, for a portrait of him adorns it, with a 
 wrong death-date on it. 
 
 Here also is a sensitive terra-cotta bust of S. Antonio, 
 Cosimo's friend and another pride of the monastery : the 
 monk who was also Archbishop of Florence until his 
 death, and whom we saw, in stone, in a niche under the 
 Uffizi. His cell was the thirty-first cell, opposite the en- 
 trance. This benign old man, who has one of the kindest 
 faces of his time, which was often introduced into pictures, 
 was appointed to the see at the suggestion of Fra Angelico, 
 to whom Pope Eugenius (who consecrated the new S. 
 Marco in 1442 and occupied Cosimo de' Medici's cell on 
 his visit) had offered it ; but the painter declined and put 
 forward Antonio in his stead. Antonio Pierozzi, whose
 
 LITTLE ANTONY 259 
 
 destiny it was to occupy this high post, to be a confidant 
 of Cosimo de' Medici, and ultimately, in 1523, to be enrolled 
 among the saints, was born at Florence in 1389. Accord- 
 ing to Butler, from the cradle "Antonino" or "Little 
 Antony," as the Florentines affectionately called him, had 
 " no inclination but to piety," and was an enemy even as an 
 infant " both to sloth and to the amusements of children." 
 As a schoolboy his only pleasure was to read the lives of 
 the saints, converse with pious persons or to pray. When 
 not at home or at school he was in church, either kneeling 
 or lying prostrate before a crucifix, " with a perseverance 
 that astonished everybody." S. Dominic himself, preach- 
 ing at Fiesole, made him a Dominican, his answers to an 
 examination of the whole decree of Gratian being the de- 
 ciding cause, although Little Antony was then but sixteen. 
 As a priest he was " never seen at the altar but bathed in 
 tears." After being prior of a number of convents and a 
 counsellor of much weight in convocation, he was made 
 Archbishop of Florence : but was so anxious to avoid the 
 honour and responsibility that he hid in the island of Sar- 
 dinia. On being discovered he wrote a letter praying to 
 be excused and watered it with his tears; but at last he 
 consented and was consecrated in 1446. 
 
 As archbishop his life was a model of simplicity and 
 solicitude. He thought only of his duties and the well- 
 being of the poor. His purse was open to all in need, and 
 he " often sold " his single mule in order to relieve some 
 necessitous person. He gave up his garden to the growth 
 of vegetables for the poor, and kept an ungrateful leper 
 whose sores he dressed with his own hands. He died in 
 1459 and was canonized in 1523. His body was still free 
 from corruption in 1559, when it was translated to the 
 chapel in S. Marco prepared for it by the Salviati.
 
 260 S. MARCO 
 
 But perhaps the good Antonino's finest work was the 
 foundation of a philanthropic society of Florentines which 
 still carries on its good work. Antonino's sympathy lay 
 in particular with the reduced families of Florence, and it 
 was to bring help secretly to them too proud to beg 
 that he called for volunteers. The society was known in 
 the city as the Buonuomini (good men) of S. Martino, the 
 little church close to Dante's house, behind the Badia: 
 S. Martin being famous among saints for his impulsive yet 
 wise generosity with his cloak. 
 
 The other and most famous prior of S. Marco was 
 Savonarola. Girolamo Savonarola was born of noble family 
 at Ferrara in 1452, and after a profound education, in 
 which he concentrated chiefly upon religion and philosophy, 
 he entered the Dominican order at the age of twenty-two. 
 He first came to S. Marco at the age of thirty and preached 
 there in Lent in 1482, but without attracting much notice. 
 When, however, he returned to S. Marco seven years later 
 it was to be instantly hailed both as a powerful preacher 
 and reformer. His eloquent and burning declarations 
 were hurled both at Florence and Rome : at the apathy 
 and greed of the Church as a whole, and at the sinfulness 
 and luxury of this city, while Lorenzo the Magnificent, 
 who was then at the height of his influence, surrounded 
 by accomplished and witty hedonists, and happiest when 
 adding to his collection of pictures, jewels, and sculpture, 
 in particular did the priest rebuke. Savonarola stood for 
 the spiritual ideals and asceticism of the Baptist, Christ, 
 and S. Paul ; Lorenzo, in his eyes, made only for sensuality 
 and decadence. 
 
 The two men, however, recognized each other's genius, 
 and Lorenzo, with the tolerance which was as much a mark 
 of the first three Medici rulers as its absence was notable
 
 THE MAGNIFICENTS DEATH 261 
 
 in most of the later ones, rather encouraged Savonarola in 
 his crusade than not. He visited him in the monastery 
 and did not resent being kept waiting; and he went to 
 hear him preach. In 1492 Lorenzo died, sending for 
 Savonarola on his death-bed, which was watched by the 
 two closest of his scholarly friends, Pico della Mirandola 
 and Politian. The story of what happened has been vari- 
 ously told. According to the account of Politian, Lorenzo 
 met his end with fortitude, and Savonarola prayed with 
 the dying man and gave him his blessing; according to 
 another account, Lorenzo was called upon by Savonarola 
 to make three undertakings before he died, and, Lorenzo 
 declining, Savonarola left him unabsolved. These promises 
 were (1) to repent of all his sins, and in particular of the 
 sack of Volterra, of the alleged theft of public dowry funds 
 and of the implacable punishment of the Pazzi conspirators ; 
 (2) to restore all property of which he had become possessed 
 by unjust means ; and (3) to give back to Florence her lib- 
 erty . B ut the probabilities are in favor of Politian's account 
 being the true one, and the later story a political invention. 
 Lorenzo dead and Piero his son so incapable, Savonarola 
 came to his own. He had long foreseen a revolution 
 following on the death of Lorenzo, and in one of his most 
 powerful sermons he had suggested that the "Flagellum 
 Dei " to punish the wicked Florentines might be a for- 
 eign invader. When therefore in 1493 the French king 
 Charles VIII arrived in Italy with his army, Savonarola was 
 recognized not only as a teacher but as a prophet; and 
 when the Medici had been again banished and Charles, 
 having asked too much, had retreated from Florence, the 
 Republic was remodelled with Savonarola virtually con- 
 trolling its Great Council. For a year or two his power 
 was supreme.
 
 262 S. MARCO 
 
 This was the period of the Piagnoni, or Weepers. The 
 citizens adopted sober attire ; a spirit as of England under 
 the Puritans prevailed; and Savonarola's eloquence so 
 far carried away not only the populace but many persons 
 of genius that a bonfire was lighted in the middle of the 
 Piazza della Signoria in which costly dresses, jewels, false 
 hair, and studies from the nude were destroyed. 
 
 Savonarola, meanwhile, was not only chastising and re- 
 forming Florence, but with fatal audacity was attacking 
 with even less mincing of words the licentiousness of the 
 Pope. As to the character of Lorenzo de' Medici there 
 can be two opinions, and indeed the historians of Florence 
 are widely divided in their estimates; but of Roderigo 
 Borgia (Pope Alexander VI) there is but one, and Savona- 
 rola held it. Savonarola was excommunicated, but refused 
 to obey the edict. Popes, however, although Florence had 
 to a large extent put itself out of reach, have long arms, 
 and gradually taking advantage of the city's growing dis- 
 content with piety and tears and recurring unquiet, there 
 being still a strong pro-Medici party, and building not a 
 little on his knowledge of the Florentine love of change 
 the Pope gathered together sufficient supporters of his 
 determination to crush this too outspoken critic and hu- 
 miliate his fellow-citizens. 
 
 Events helped the pontiff. A pro-Medici conspiracy 
 excited the populace; a second bonfire of vanities led to 
 rioting, for the Florentines were beginning to tire of virtue ; 
 and the preaching of a Franciscan monk against Savona- 
 rola (and the gentle Fra Angelico has shown us, in the 
 Accademia, how Franciscans and Dominicans could hate 
 each other) brought matters to a head, for he challenged 
 Savonarola to an ordeal by fire in the Loggia de' Lanzi, to 
 test which of them spoke with the real voice of God. A
 
 SAVONAROLA'S FALL 263 
 
 Dominican volunteered to make the essay with a Franciscan. 
 This ceremony, anticipated with the liveliest eagerness by 
 the Florentines, was at the last moment forbidden, and 
 Savonarola, who had to bear the responsibility of such a 
 bitter disappointment to a pleasure-loving people, became an 
 unpopular figure. Everything just then was against him, 
 for Charles VIII, with whom he had an understanding and 
 of whom the Pope was afraid, chose that moment to die. 
 
 The Pope drove home his advantage, and getting more 
 power among individuals on the Council forced them to 
 indict their firebrand. No means were spared, however 
 base ; forgery and false witness were as nothing. The sum- 
 mons arrived on April 8th, 1497, when Savonarola was at 
 S. Marco. The monks, who adored him, refused to let him 
 go, and for a whole day the convent was under siege. But 
 might, of course, prevailed, and Savonarola was dragged 
 from the church to the Palazzo Vecchio and prosecuted for 
 the offence of claiming to have supernatural power and 
 fomenting political disturbance. He was imprisoned in a 
 tiny cell in the tower for many days, and under constant 
 torture he no doubt uttered words which would never have 
 passed his lips had he been in control of himself ; but we 
 may dismiss, as false, the evidence which makes them into 
 confessions. Evidence there had to be, and evidence natu- 
 rally was forthcoming ; and sentence of death was passed. 
 
 In that cell, when not under torture, he managed to 
 write meditations on the thirteenth psalm, " In Thee, O 
 Lord, have I hoped," and a little work entitled " A Rule 
 for Living a Christian Life." Before the last day he ad- 
 ministered the Sacrament to his two companions, who were 
 to die with him, with perfect composure, and the night 
 preceding they spent together in prayer in the Great Hall 
 which he had once dominated.
 
 264 S. MARCO 
 
 The execution was on May 23rd, 1498. A gallows was 
 erected in the Piazza, della Signoria on the spot now marked 
 by the bronze tablet. Beneath the gallows was a bonfire. 
 All those members of the Government who could endure 
 the scene were present, either on the platform of the 
 Palazzo Vecchio or in the Loggia de' Lanzi. The crowd 
 filled the Piazza. The three monks went to their death 
 unafraid. When his friar's gown was taken from him, 
 Savonarola said : " Holy gown, thou wert granted to me by 
 God's grace and I have ever kept thee unstained. Now I 
 forsake thee not but am bereft of thee." (This very gar- 
 ment is in the glass case in Savonarola's cell at S. Marco.) 
 The Bishop replied hastily : "I separate thee from the 
 Church militant and triumphant." " Militant," replied 
 Savonarola: "not triumphant, for that rests not with 
 you." The monks were first hanged and then burned. 
 
 The larger picture of the execution which hangs in 
 Savonarola's cell, although interesting and up to a point 
 credible, is of course not right. The square must have 
 been crowded : in fact we know it was. The picture 
 has still other claims on the attention, for it shows 
 the Judith and Holofernes as the only statue before the 
 Palazzo Vecchio, standing where David now is ; it shows the 
 old ringhiera, the Marzocco (very inaccurately drawn), 
 and the Loggia de' Lanzi empty of statuary. We have in 
 the National Gallery a little portrait of Savonarola No. 
 1301 with another representation of the execution on the 
 back of it. 
 
 So far as I can understand Savonarola, his failure was 
 due to two causes : firstly, his fatal blending of religion and 
 politics, and secondly, the conviction which his tempo- 
 rary success with the susceptible Florentines bred in his 
 heated mind that he was destined to carry all before him,
 
 VIRGIN AND CHILD ENTHRONED, WITH SAINTS 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY BOTTICELLI IN THE ACCADEJUA
 
 THE GREAT ASCETIC 265 
 
 totally failing to appreciate the Florentine character with 
 all its swift and deadly changes and love of change. As I 
 see it, Savonarola's special mission at that time was to be a 
 wandering preacher, spreading the light and exciting his 
 listeners to spiritual revival in this city and that, but never 
 to be in a position of political power and never to become 
 rooted. The peculiar tragedy of his career is that he left 
 Florence no better than he found it : indeed, very likely 
 worse ; for in a reaction from a spiritual revival a lower 
 depth can be reached than if there had been no revival at 
 all ; while the visit of the French army to Italy, for which 
 Savonarola took such credit to himself, merely ended in 
 disaster for Italy, disease for Europe, and the spreading of 
 the very Renaissance spirit which he had toiled to destroy. 
 But when all is said as to his tragedy, personal and 
 political, there remains this magnificent isolated figure, 
 single-minded, austere and self-sacrificing, in an age of 
 indulgence. 
 
 For most people "Romola" is the medium through which 
 Savonarola is visualized; but there he is probably made 
 too theatrical. Yet he must have had something of the 
 theatre in him even to consent to the ordeal by fire. That 
 he was an intense visionary is beyond doubt, but a very 
 real man too we must believe when we read of the devotion 
 of his monks to his person, and of his success for a while 
 with the shrewd, worldly Great Council. 
 
 Savonarola had many staunch friends among the artists. 
 We have seen Lorenzo di Credi and Fra Bartolommeo 
 under his influence. After his death Fra Bartolommeo 
 entered S. Marco (his cell was No. 34), and di Credi, who 
 was noted for his clean living, entered S. Maria Nuova. 
 Two of Luca della Robbia's nephews were also monks 
 under Savonarola. We have seen Fra Bartolommeo's
 
 266 S. MARCO 
 
 portrait of Savonarola in the Accademia, and there is 
 another of him here. Cronaca, who built the Great 
 Council's hall, survived Savonarola only ten years, and 
 during that time all his stories were of him. Michelangelo, 
 who was a young man when he heard him preach, read his 
 sermons to the end of his long life. But upon Botticelli 
 his influence was most powerful, for he turned that master's 
 hand from such pagan allegories as the "Primavera" and 
 the "Birth of Venus" wholly to religious subjects. 
 
 Savonarola had three adjoining cells. In the first is a 
 monument to him, his portrait by Fra Bartolommeo and 
 three frescoes by the same hand. In the next room is the 
 glass case containing his robe, his hair shirt, and rosary ; 
 and here also are his desk and some books. In the bedroom 
 is a crucifixion by Fra Angelico on linen. No one know- 
 ing Savonarola's story can remain here unmoved. 
 
 We find Fra Bartolommeo again with a pencil drawing 
 of S. Antonio in that saint's cell. Here also is Antonino's 
 death-mask. The terra-cotta bust of him in Cosimo's cell 
 is the most like life, but there is an excellent and viva- 
 cious bronze in the right transept of S. Maria Novella. 
 
 Before passing downstairs again the library should be 
 visited, that delightful assemblage of grey pillars and arches. 
 Without its desks and cases it would be one of the most 
 beautiful rooms in Florence. All the books have gone, 
 save the illuminated music. 
 
 In the first cloisters, which are more liveable-in than the 
 ordinary Florentine cloisters, having a great shady tree 
 in the midst with a seat round it, and flowers, are the Fra 
 Angelicos I have mentioned. The other painting is rather 
 theatrical and poor. In the refectory is a large scene of 
 the miracle of the Providenza, when S. Dominic and his 
 companions, during a famine, were fed by two angels with
 
 ANCIENT FLORENCE 267 
 
 bread ; while at the back S. Antonio watches the crucified 
 Christ. The artist is Sogliano. 
 
 In addition to Fra Angelico's great crucifixion fresco 
 in the chapter house, is a single Christ crucified, with a 
 monk mourning, by Antonio Pollaiuolo, very like the Fra 
 Angelico in the cloisters ; but the colour has left it, and 
 what must have been some noble cypresses are now ghosts 
 dimly visible. The frame is superb. 
 
 One other painting we must see the "Last Supper" of 
 Domenico Ghirlandaio. Florence has two " Last Suppers " 
 by this artist one at the Ognissanti and this. The two 
 works are very similar and have much entertaining interest, 
 but the debt which this owes to Castagno is very obvious : it 
 is indeed Castagno sweetened. Although psychologically 
 this picture is weak, or at any rate not strong, it is full of 
 pleasant touches : the supper really is a supper, as it too 
 often is not, with fruit and dishes and a generous number 
 of flasks; the tablecloth would delight a good house- 
 keeper ; a cat sits close to Judas, his only companion ; a 
 peacock perches in a niche ; there are flowers on the wall, 
 and at the back of the charming loggia where the feast is 
 held are luxuriant trees, and fruits, and flying birds. The 
 monks at food in this small refectory had compensation 
 for their silence in so engaging a scene. This room also 
 contains a beautiful della Robbia " Deposition." 
 
 The little refectory, which is at the foot of the stairs 
 leading to the cells, opens on the second cloisters, and these 
 few visitors ever enter. But they are of deep interest to 
 anyone with a passion for the Florence of the great days, 
 for it is here that the municipality preserves the most re- 
 markable relics of buildings that have had to be destroyed. 
 It is in fact the museum of the ancient city. Here, for 
 example, is that famous figure of Abundance, in grey stone,
 
 268 S. MARCO 
 
 which Donatello made for the old market, where the Piazza 
 Vittorio Emmanuele now is, in the midst of which she 
 poured forth her fruits from a cornucopia high on a column 
 for all to see. Opposite is a magnificent doorway designed 
 by Donatello for the Pazzi garden. Old windows, chimney- 
 pieces, fragments of cornice, carved pillars, painted beams, 
 coats of arms, are everywhere. 
 
 In cell No. 3 is a pretty little coloured relief of the 
 Virgin adoring, which I covet from a tabernacle in the old 
 Piazza di Brunelleschi. Here too are relics of the guild 
 houses of some of the smaller Arti, while perhaps the 
 most humanly interesting thing of all is the great mourn- 
 ful bell of S. Marco in Savonarola's time, known as La 
 Piagnone. 
 
 In the church of S. Marco lie two of the learned 
 men, friends of Lorenzo de' Medici, whose talk at the 
 Medici table was one of the youthful Michelangelo's edu- 
 cative influences, what time he was studying in the Medici 
 garden, close by : Angelo Poliziano (14541494), the poet 
 and the tutor of the three Medici boys, and the marvellous 
 Pico della Mirandola (1463-1494), the enchanted scholar. 
 Pico was one of the most fascinating and comely figures 
 of his time. He was born in 1463, the son of tae Count 
 of Mirandola, and took early to scholarship, spending his 
 time among philosophies as other boys among games or 
 S. Antonio at his devotions, but by no means neglecting 
 polished life too, for we know him to have been handsome, 
 accomplished, and a knight in the court of Venus. In 1486 
 he challenged the whole world to meet him in Rome and 
 dispute publicly upon nine hundred theses ; but so many 
 of them seemed likely to be paradoxes against the true 
 faith, too brilliantly defended, that the Pope forbade the 
 contest. Pico dabbled in the black arts, wrote learnedly
 
 PICO AND POLIZIANO 269 
 
 (in his room at the Badia of Fiesole) on the Mosaic law, 
 was an amorous poet in Italian as well as a serious poet in 
 Latin, and in everything he did was interesting and curious, 
 steeped in Renaissance culture, and inspired by the wish to 
 reconcile the past and the present and humanize Christ and 
 the Fathers. He found time also to travel much, and he 
 gave most of his fortune to establish a fund to provide 
 penniless girls with marriage portions. He had enough 
 imagination to be the close friend both of Lorenzo de' 
 Medici and Savonarola. Savonarola clothed his dead body 
 in Dominican robes and made him posthumously one of the 
 order which for some time before his death he had desired 
 to join. He died in 1494 at the early age of thirty-one, 
 two years after Lorenzo. 
 
 Angelo Poliziano, known as Politian, was also a Renais- 
 sance scholar and also a friend of Lorenzo, and his com- 
 panion, with Pico, at his death-bed; but although in 
 precocity, brilliancy of gifts, and literary charm he may be 
 classed with Pico, the comparison there ends, for he was 
 a gross sensualist of mean exterior and capable of much 
 pettiness. He was tutor to Lorenzo's sons until their 
 mother interfered, holding that his views were far too 
 loose, but while in that capacity he taught also Michel- 
 angelo and put him upon the designing of his relief of the 
 battle of the Lapithse and Centaurs. At the time of 
 Lorenzo and Giuliano's famous tournament in the Piazza 
 of S. Croce, Poliziano wrote, as I have said, the descriptive 
 allegorical poem which gave Botticelli ideas for his " Birth 
 of Venus" and "Primavera." He lives chiefly by his Latin 
 poems ; but he did much to make the language of Tuscany 
 a literary tongue. His elegy on the death of Lorenzo has 
 real feeling in it and proves him to have esteemed that 
 friend and patron. Like Pico, he survived Lorenzo only
 
 270 S. MARCO 
 
 two years, and he also was buried in Dominican robes. 
 Perhaps the finest feat of Poliziano's life was his action 
 in slamming the sacristy doors in the face of Lorenzo's 
 pursuers on that fatal day in the Duomo when Giuliano 
 de' Medici was stabbed. 
 
 Ghirlandaio's fresco in S. Trinita of the granting of the 
 charter to S. Francis gives portraits both of Poliziano and 
 Lorenzo in the year 1485. Lorenzo stands in a little 
 group of four in the right-hand corner, holding out his 
 hand toward Poliziano, who, with Lorenzo's son Giuliano 
 on his right and followed by two other boys, is advancing 
 up the steps. Poliziano is seen again in a Ghirlandaio 
 fresco at S. Maria Novella. 
 
 From S. Marco we are going to SS. Annunziata, but first 
 let us just take a few steps down the Via Cavour, in order to 
 pass the Casino Medici, since it is built on the site of the 
 old Medici garden where Lorenzo de' Medici established 
 Bertoldo, the sculptor, as head of a school of instruction, 
 amid those beautiful antiques which we have seen in the 
 Uffizi, and where the boy Michelangelo was a student. 
 
 A few steps farther on the left, towards the Fiesole heights, 
 which we can see rising at the end of the street, we come, 
 at No. 69, to a little doorway which leads to a little court- 
 yard the Chiostro dello Scalzo decorated with frescoes 
 by Andrea del Sarto and Franciabigio and containing the 
 earliest work of both artists. The frescoes are in mono- 
 chrome, which is very unusual, but their interest is not 
 impaired thereby : one does not miss other colours. No. 7, 
 the Baptism of Christ, is the first fresco these two associ- 
 ates ever did ; and several years elapsed between that and 
 the best that are here, such as the group representing Charity 
 and the figure of Faith, for the work was long interrupted. 
 The boys on the staircase in the fresco which shows S. John
 
 PIERO DI COSIMO 271 
 
 leaving his father's house are very much alive. This is by 
 Franciabigio, as is also S. John meeting with Christ, a very 
 charming scene. Andrea's best and latest is the Birth of 
 the Baptist, which has the fine figure of Zacharias writing 
 in it. But what he should be writing at that time and 
 place one cannot imagine : more reasonably might he be 
 called a physician preparing a prescription. On the wall 
 is a terra-cotta bust of S. Antonio, making him much 
 younger than is usual. 
 
 Andrea's suave brush we find all over Florence, both in 
 fresco and picture, and this is an excellent place to say some- 
 thing of the man of whom English people have perhaps a 
 more intimate impression than of any other of the old 
 masters, by reason largely of Browning's poem and not a 
 little by that beautiful portrait which for so long was erro- 
 neously considered to represent the painter himself, in our 
 National Gallery. Andrea's life was not very happy. No 
 painter had more honour in his own day, and none had a 
 greater number of pupils, but these stopped with him only 
 a short time, owing to the demeanour towards them of 
 Andrea's wife, who developed into a flirt and shrew, dowered 
 with a thousand jealousies. Andrea, the son of a tailor, 
 was born in 1486 and apprenticed to a goldsmith. Show- 
 ing, however, more drawing than designing ability, he was 
 transferred to a painter named Barile and then passed to 
 that curious man of genius who painted the fascinating 
 picture "The Death of Procris" which hangs near Andrea's 
 portrait in our National Gallery Piero di Cosimo. Piero 
 carried oddity to strange lengths. He lived alone in in- 
 describable dirt, and lived wholly on hard-boiled eggs, which 
 he cooked, with his glue, by the fifty, and ate as he felt 
 inclined. He forbade all pruning of trees as an act of in- 
 subordination to Nature, and delighted in rain but cowered
 
 272 S. MARCO 
 
 in terror from thunder and lightning. He peered curiously 
 at clouds to find strange shapes in them, and in his pursuit 
 of the grotesque examined the spittle of sick persons on the 
 walls or ground, hoping for suggestions of monsters, com- 
 bats of horses, or fantastic landscapes. But why this should 
 have been thought madness in Cosimo when Leonardo in his 
 directions to artists explicitly advises them to look hard at 
 spotty walls for inspiration, I cannot say. He was also the 
 first,to my knowledge, to don ear-caps in tedious society as 
 Herbert Spencer later used to do. He had many pupils, 
 but latterly could not bear them in his presence and was 
 therefore but an indifferent instructor. As a deviser of 
 pageants he was more in demand than as a painter; but 
 his brush was not idle. Both London and Paris have, I 
 think, better examples of his genius than the Uffizi ; but 
 he is well represented at S. Spirito. 
 
 Piero sent Andrea to the Palazzo Vecchio to study the 
 Leonardo and Michelangelo cartoons, and there he met 
 Franciabigio, with whom he struck up one of his close 
 friendships, and together they took a studio and began to 
 paint for a living. Their first work together was the 
 Baptism of Christ at which we are now looking. The 
 next commission after the Scalzo was to decorate the 
 courtyard of the Convent of the Servi, now known as the 
 Church of the Annunciation; and moving into adjacent 
 lodgings, Andrea met Jacopo Sansovino, the Venetian 
 sculptor, whose portrait by Bassano is in the Uffizi, a capable 
 all-round man who had studied in Rome and was in the 
 way of helping the young Andrea at all points. It 
 was then too that he met the agreeable and convivial 
 Rustici, of whom I have said something in the chapter on 
 the Baptistery, and quickly became something of a blood 
 for by this time, the second decade of the sixteenth century,
 
 SS i
 
 ANDREA DEL SARTO 273 
 
 the simplicity of the early artists had given place to dashing 
 sophistication and the great period was nearly over. For 
 this change the brilliant complex inquiring mind of Leo- 
 nardo da Vinci was largely responsible, together with the 
 encouragement and example of Lorenzo de' Medici and 
 such of his cultured sceptical friends as Alberti, Pico della 
 Mirandola, and Poliziano. But that is a subject too large 
 for this book. Enough that a worldly splendour and vivacity 
 had come into artistic life and Andrea was an impression- 
 able young man in the midst of it. It does not seem to 
 have affected the power and dexterity of his hand, but it 
 made him a religious court-painter instead of a religious 
 painter. His sweetness and an underlying note of pathos 
 give his work a peculiar and genuine character ; but he is 
 just not of the greatest. Not so great really as Luca Sig- 
 norelli, for example, whom few visitors to the galleries 
 rush at with gurgling cries of rapture as they rush at Andrea. 
 
 When Andrea was twenty-six he married. The lady 
 was the widow of a hatter. Andrea had long loved her, but 
 the hatter clung outrageously to life. In 1513, however, 
 she was free, and, giving her hand to the painter, his 
 freedom passed for ever. Vasari being among Andrea's 
 pupils may be trusted here, and Vasari gives her a bad 
 character, which Browning completes. Andrea painted 
 her often, notably in the fresco of the "Nativity of the 
 Virgin" to which we shall soon come at the Annunziata : 
 a fine statuesque woman by no means unwilling to have the 
 most popular artist in Florence as her slave. 
 
 Of the rest of Andrea's life I need say little. He grew 
 steadily in favour and was always busy; he met Michel- 
 angelo and admired him, and Michelangelo warned 
 Raphael in Rome of a little fellow in Florence who would 
 "make him sweat." Browning, in his monologue, makes
 
 274 S. MARCO 
 
 this remark of Michelangelo's, and the comparison be- 
 tween Andrea and Raphael that follows, the kernel of 
 the poem. 
 
 Like Leonardo andRustici, Andrea accepted, in 1518, an 
 invitation from Francis I to visit Paris, and once there be- 
 gan to paint for that royal patron. But although his wife 
 did not love him, she wanted him back, and in the midst 
 of his success he returned, taking with him a large sum of 
 money from Francis with which to buy for the king works 
 of art in Italy. That money he misapplied to his own 
 extravagant ends, and although Francis took no punitive 
 steps, the event cannot have improved either Andrea's 
 position or his peace of mind; while it caused Francis to 
 vow that he had done with Florentines. Andrea died in 
 1531, of fever, nursed by no one, for his wife, fearing it 
 might be the dreaded plague, kept away.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE SS. ANNUNZIATA AND THE BPEDALE DEGLI INNO- 
 CENTI 
 
 Andrea del Sarto again Franciabigio outraged Alessio Baldovinetti 
 
 Piero de' Medici's church An Easter Sunday congregation An- 
 drea's "Madonna del Sacco" "The Statue and the Bust" Henri IV 
 
 The Spedale degli Innocenti Andrea della Robbia Domenico 
 Ghirlandaio Cosimo I and the Etruscans Bronzes and tapestries 
 Perugino's triptych S. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi "Very sacred 
 
 human dust." 
 
 FROM S. Marco it is an easy step, along the Via 
 Sapienza, to the Piazza dell' Annunziata, where one 
 finds the church of that name, the Palazzo Riccardi- 
 Mannelli, and opposite it, gay with the famous della Robbia 
 reliefs of swaddled children, the Spedale degli Innocenti. 
 First the church, which is notable for possessing in its 
 courtyard Andrea del Sarto's finest frescoes. This series, of 
 which he was the chief painter, with his friend Franciabigio 
 again as his principal ally, depict scenes in the life of the 
 Virgin and S. Filippo. The scene of the Birth of the 
 Virgin has been called the triumph of fresco painting, and 
 certainly it is very gay and life-like in that medium. 
 The whole picture is very charming and easy, with the 
 pleasantest colouring imaginable and pretty details, such 
 as the washing of the baby and the boy warming his hands, 
 while of the two women in the foreground, that on the left, 
 facing the spectator, is a portrait of Andrea's wife, Lucrezia. 
 In the Arrival of the Magi we find Andrea himself, the 
 
 275
 
 276 ANNUNZIATA AND SPEDALE INNOCENTI 
 
 figure second from the right-hand side, pointing; while 
 next to him, on the left, is his friend Jacopo Sansovino. 
 The "Dead Man Restored to Life by S.Filippo" is Andrea's 
 next best. Franciabigio did the scene of the Marriage of 
 the Virgin, which contains another of his well-drawn boys 
 on the steps. The injury to this fresco the disfigurement 
 of Mary's face was the work of the painter himself, in 
 a rage that the monks should have inspected it before it 
 was ready. Vasari is interesting on this work. He draws 
 attention to it as illustrating "Joseph's great faith in tak- 
 ing her, his face expressing as much fear as joy." He also 
 says that the blow which the man is giving Joseph was part 
 of the marriage ceremony at that time in Florence. 
 
 Franciabigio, in spite of his action in the matter of 
 this fresco, seems to have been a very sweet-natured man, 
 who painted rather to be able to provide for his poor re- 
 lations than from any stronger inner impulse, and when 
 he saw some works by Raphael gave up altogether, as 
 Verrocchio gave up after Leonardo matured. Franciabigio 
 was a few years older than Andrea, but died at the same 
 age. Possibly it was through watching his friend's domes- 
 tic troubles that he remained single, remarking that he 
 who takes a wife endures strife. His most charming work 
 is that "Madonna of the Well" in the Uffizi, which is 
 reproduced in this volume. Franciabigio's master was 
 Mariotto Albertinelli, who had learned from Cosimo 
 Rosselli, the teacher of Piero di Cosimo, Andrea's master 
 another illustration of the interdependence of Florentine 
 artists. 
 
 One of the most attractive works in the courtyard must 
 once have been the "Adoration of the Shepherds" by Alessio 
 Baldovinetti, at the left of the entrance to the church. It 
 is badly damaged and the colour has gone, but one can see
 
 EASTER SUNDAY 277 
 
 that the valley landscape, when it was painted, was a 
 dream of gaiety and happiness. 
 
 The particular treasure of the church is the extremely 
 ornate chapel of the Virgin, containing a picture of the Vir- 
 gin displayed once a year on the Feast of the Annunciation, 
 March 25th, in the painting of which the Virgin herself took 
 part, descending from heaven for that purpose. The artist 
 thus divinely assisted was Pietro Cavallini, a pupil of 
 Giotto. The silver shrine for the picture was designed by 
 Michelozzo and was a beautiful thing before the canopy 
 and all the distressing accessories were added. It was 
 made at the order of Piero de' Medici, who was as fond of 
 this church as his father Cosimo was of S. Lorenzo. Miche- 
 lozzo only designed it ; the sculpture was done by Pagno di 
 Lapo Portigiani, whose Madonna is over the tomb of Pope 
 John by Donatello and Michelozzo in the Baptistery. 
 
 Among the altar-pieces are two by Perugino ; but of 
 Florentine altar-pieces one can say little or nothing in a 
 book of reasonable dimensions. There are so many and 
 they are for the most part so difficult to see. Now and then 
 one arrests the eye and holds it ; but for the most part they 
 go unstudied. The rotunda of the choir is interesting, for 
 here we meet again Alberti, who completed it from designs 
 by Michelozzo. It does not seem to fit the church from 
 within, and even less so from without, but it is a fine 
 structure. The seventeenth-century painting of the 
 dome is almost impressive. 
 
 But one can forget and forgive all the church's gaudi- 
 ness and floridity when the choir is in good voice and the 
 strings play Palestrina as they did last Easter Sunday. 
 The Annunziata is famous for its music, and on the great 
 occasions people crowd there as nowhere else. At High 
 Mass the singing was fine but the instrumental music finer.
 
 278 ANNUNZIATA AND SPEDALE INNOCENTI 
 
 One is accustomed to seeing vicarious worship in Italy; 
 but never was there so vicarious a congregation as ours, 
 and indeed if it had not been for the sight of the busy 
 celibates at the altar one would not have known that one 
 was worshipping at all. The culmination of detachment 
 came when a family of Siamese or Burmese children, in 
 native dress, entered. A positive hum went round, and 
 not an eye but was fixed on the little Orientals. When, 
 however, the organ was for a while superseded and the 
 violas and violins quivered under the plangent melody of 
 Palestrina, our roving attention was fixed and held. 
 
 I am not sure that the Andrea in the cloisters is not the 
 best of all his work. It is very simple and wholly beautiful, 
 and in spite of years of ravage the colouring is still won- 
 derful, perhaps indeed better for the hand of Time. It 
 is called the "Madonna del Sacco" (grain sack), and fills 
 the lunette over the door leading from the church. The 
 Madonna Andrea's favourite type, with the eyes set widely 
 in the flat brow over the little trustful nose has her Son, 
 older than usual, sprawling on her knee. Her robes are 
 ample and rich ; a cloak of green is over her pretty head. 
 By her sits S. Joseph, on the sack, reading with very long 
 sight. That is all ; but one does not forget it. 
 
 For the rest the cloisters are a huddle of memorial slabs 
 and indifferent frescoes. In the middle is a well with nice 
 iron work. No grass at all. The second cloisters, into 
 which it is not easy to get, have a gaunt John the Baptist 
 in terra-cotta by Michelozzo. 
 
 On leaving the church, our natural destination is the 
 Spedale, on the left, but one should pause a moment in 
 the doorway of the courtyard (if the beggars who are always 
 there do not make it too difficult) to look down the Via 
 de' Servi running straight away to the cathedral, which,
 
 "THE STATUE AND THE BUST" 279 
 
 with its great red warm dome, closes the street. The 
 statue in the middle of the piazza is that of the Grand 
 Duke Ferdinand by Giovanni da Bologna, cast from metal 
 taken from the Italians' ancient enemies the Turks, while 
 the fountains are by Tacca, Giovanni's pupil, who made 
 the bronze boar at the Mercato Nuovo. " The Synthetical 
 Guide Book," from which I have already quoted, warns its 
 readers not to overlook "the puzzling bees" at the back 
 of Ferdinand's statue. " Try to count them," it adds. (I 
 accepted the challenge and found one hundred and one.) 
 The bees have reference to Ferdinand's emblem a swarm 
 of these insects, with the words "Majestate tantum." The 
 statue, by the way, is interesting for two other reasons than 
 its subject. First, it is that to which Browning's poem " The 
 Statue and the Bust " refers, and which, according to the 
 poet, was set here at Ferdinand's command to gaze ador- 
 ingly for ever at the della Robbia bust of the lady whom he 
 loved in vain. But the bust no longer is visible, if ever it 
 was. John of Douay (as Gian Bologna was also called) 
 
 John of Douay shall effect my plan, 
 Set me on horseback here aloft, 
 Alive, as the crafty sculptor can, 
 
 In the very square I have crossed so oft : 
 That men may admire, when future suns 
 Shall touch the eyes to a purpose soft, 
 
 While the mouth and the brow stay brave in bronze 
 Admire and say, " when he was alive 
 How he would take his pleasure once !" 
 
 The other point of interest is that when Maria de' Medici, 
 Ferdinand's niece, wished to erect a statue of Henri IV 
 (her late husband) at the Pont Neuf in Paris, she asked to 
 borrow Gian Bologna. But the sculptor was too old to
 
 280 ANNUNZIATA AND SPEDALE INNOCENTI 
 
 go and therefore only a bronze cast of this same horse 
 was offered. In the end Tacca completed both statues, 
 and Henri IV was set up in 1614 (after having fallen 
 overboard on the voyage from Leghorn to Havre). The 
 present statue at the Pont Neuf is, however, a modern 
 substitute. 
 
 The facade of the Spedale degli Innocenti, or children's 
 hospital, when first seen by the visitor evokes perhaps the 
 quickest and happiest cry of recognition in all Florence 
 by reason of its row of della Robbia babies, each in its 
 blue circle, reproductions of which have gone all over the 
 world. These are thought to be by Andrea, Luca's 
 nephew, and were added long after the building was 
 completed. Luca probably helped him. The hospital 
 was begun by Brunelleschi at the cost of old Giovanni 
 de' Medici, Cosimo's father, but the Guild of the Silk 
 Weavers, for whom Luca made the exquisite coat of arms 
 on Or San Michele, took it over and finished it. Andrea 
 not only modelled the babies outside but the beautiful 
 Annunciation (of which I give a reproduction in this 
 volume) in the court : one of his best works. The photo- 
 graph will show how full of pretty thoughts it is, but 
 in colour it is more charming still and the green of the 
 lily stalks is not the least delightful circumstance. Not 
 only among works of sculpture but among Annuncia- 
 tions this relief holds a very high place. Few of the 
 artists devised a scene in which the great news was brought 
 more engagingly, in sweeter surroundings, or received more 
 simply. 
 
 The door of the chapel close by leads to another work 
 of art equally adapted to its situation Ghirlandaio's 
 Adoration of the Magi : one of the perfect pictures for 
 children. We have seen Ghirlandaio's Adoration of the
 
 THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN 
 
 FROM THE FRESCO BY FRA ANGELICO IN THE CONVENT OF S. MARCO
 
 ETRUSCAN RELICS 281 
 
 Shepherds at the Accademia: this is its own brother. 
 It has the sweetest, mildest little Mother, and in addition 
 to the elderly Magi two tiny little saintlings adore too. 
 In the distance is an enchanted landscape about a fairy 
 estuary. 
 
 This hospital is a very busy one, and the authorities are 
 glad to show it to visitors who really take an interest in 
 such work. Rich Italians carry on a fine rivalry in 
 generosity to such institutions. Bologna, for instance, 
 could probably give lessons in thoughtful charity to the 
 whole world. 
 
 The building opposite the hospital has a loggia which is 
 notable for a series of four arches, like those of the Mercato 
 Nuovo, and in summer for the flowers that hang down from 
 the little balconies. A pretty building. Before turning 
 to the right under the last of the arches of the hospital 
 loggia, which opens on the Via della Colonna and from 
 the piazza always frames such a charming picture of houses 
 and mountains, it is well, with so much of Andrea del 
 Sarto's work warm in one's memory, to take a few steps 
 up the Via Gino Capponi (which also always frames an 
 Apennine vista under its arch) to No. 24, and see Andrea's 
 house, on the right, marked with a tablet. 
 
 In the Via della Colonna we find, at No. 26 on the left, 
 the Palazzo Crocetta, which is now a Museum of Antiqui- 
 ties, and for its Etruscan exhibits is of the greatest historical 
 value and interest to visitors to Tuscany, such as ourselves. 
 For here you may see what civilization was like centuries 
 before Christ and Rome. The beginnings of the Etruscan 
 people are indistinct, but about 1000 B.C. has been agreed 
 to as the dawn of their era. Etruria comprised Tuscany, 
 Perugia, and Rome itself. Florence has no remains, but 
 Fiesole was a fortified Etruscan town, and many traces of its
 
 282 ANNUNZIATA AND SPEDALE INNOCENTI 
 
 original builders may be seen there, together with Etruscan 
 relics in the little museum. For the best reconstructions 
 of an Etruscan city one must go to Volterra, where so 
 many of the treasures in the present building were found. 
 
 The Etruscans in their heyday were the most powerful 
 people in the world, but after the fifth century their 
 supremacy gradually disappeared, the Gauls on the one 
 side and the Romans on the other wearing them down. 
 All our knowledge of them comes through the spade. 
 Excavations at Volterra and elsewhere have revealed some 
 thousands of inscriptions which have been in part de- 
 ciphered; but nothing has thrown so much light on this 
 accomplished people as their habit of providing the ashes 
 of their dead with everything likely to be needed for the 
 next world, whose requirements fortunately so exactly 
 tallied with those of this that a complete system of domes- 
 tic civilization can be deduced. In arts and sciences 
 they were most enviably advanced, as a visit to the British 
 Museum will show in a moment. But it is to this Floren- 
 tine Museum of Antiquities that all students of Etruria 
 must go. The garden contains a number of the tombs 
 themselves, rebuilt and refurnished exactly as they were 
 found ; while on the ground floor is the amazing collection 
 of articles which the tombs yielded. The grave has pre- 
 served them for us, not quite so perfectly as the volcanic 
 dust of Vesuvius preserved the domestic appliances of 
 Pompeii, but very nearly so. Jewels, vessels, weapons, 
 ornaments many of them of a beauty never since repro- 
 duced are to be seen in profusion, now gathered together 
 for study only a short distance from the districts in which 
 centuries ago they were made and used for actual life. 
 
 Upstairs we find relics of an older civilization still, the 
 Egyptian, and a few rooms of works of art, all found
 
 TAPESTRIES 283 
 
 in Etruscan soil, the property of the Pierpont Morgans 
 and George Saltings of that ancient day, who had collected 
 them exactly as we do now. Certain of the statues are 
 world-famous. Here, for example, in Sala IX, is the bronze 
 Minerva which was found near Arezzo in 1554 by Cosimo's 
 workmen. Here is the Chimeera, also from Arezzo in 1554, 
 which Cellini restored for Cosimo and tells us about in his 
 Autobiography. Here is the superb Orator from Lake 
 Trasimene, another of Cosimo's discoveries. 
 
 In Sala X look at the bronze situla in an isolated glass 
 case, of such a peacock blue as only centuries could give it. 
 Upstairs in Sala XVI are many more Greek and Roman 
 bronzes, among which I noticed a faun with two pipes as 
 being especially good; while the little room leading from 
 it has some fine life-size heads, including a noble one of a 
 horse, and the famous Idolino on its elaborate pedestal a 
 full-length Greek bronze from the earth of Pesaro, where it 
 was found in 1530. 
 
 The top floor is given to tapestries and embroideries. 
 The collection is vast and comprises much foreign work; 
 but Cosimo I introducing tapestry weaving into Florence, 
 many of the examples come from the city's looms. The 
 finest, or at any rate most interesting, series is that de- 
 picting the court of France under Catherine de' Medici, 
 with portraits : very sumptuous and gay examples of 
 Flemish work. 
 
 The trouble at Florence is that one wants the days to 
 be ten times as long in order that one may see its wonder- 
 ful possessions properly. Here is this dry-looking archae- 
 ological museum, with antipathetic custodians at the 
 door who refuse to get change for twenty -lira pieces : 
 nothing could be more unpromising than they or their 
 building ; and yet you find yourself instantly among count-
 
 284 ANNUNZIATA AND SPEDALE INNOCENTI 
 
 less vestiges of a past people who had risen to power and 
 crumbled again before Christ was born but at a time 
 when man was so vastly more sensitive to beauty than he 
 now is that every appliance for daily life was the work of 
 an artist. Well, a collection like this demands days and 
 days of patient examination, and one has only a few hours. 
 Were I Joshua had I his curious gift it is to Florence I 
 would straightway fare. The sun should stand still there : 
 no rock more motionless. 
 
 Continuing along the Via della Colonna, we come, on 
 the right, at No. 8, to the convent of S. Maria Maddalena 
 de' Pazzi, which is now a barracks but keeps sacred one 
 room in which Perugino painted a crucifixion, his master- 
 piece in fresco. The work is in three panels, of which that 
 on the left, representing the Virgin and S. Bernard, is the 
 most beautiful. Indeed, there is no more beautiful light 
 in any picture we shall see, and the Virgin's melancholy 
 face is inexpressibly sweet. Perugino is best represented 
 at the Accademia, and there are works of his at the Uffizi 
 and Pitti and in various Florentine churches ; but here he 
 is at his best. Vasari tells us that he made much money 
 and was very fond of it ; also that he liked his young wife 
 to wear light head-dresses both out of doors and in the 
 house, and often dressed her himself. His master was 
 Verrocchio and his best pupil Raphael. 
 
 S. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi, a member of the same 
 family that plotted against the Medici and owned the 
 sacred flints, was born in 1566, and, says Miss Dunbar, 1 
 "showed extraordinary piety from a very tender age." 
 When only a child herself she used to teach small children, 
 and she daily carried lunch to the prisoners. Her real 
 name was Catherine, but becoming a nun she called herself 
 1 In "A Dictionary of Saintly Women."
 
 E.B.B. 285 
 
 Mary Magdalene. In an illness in which she was given 
 up for dead, she lay on her bed for forty days, during 
 which she saw continual visions, and then recovered. Like 
 S. Catherine of Bologna she embroidered well and painted 
 miraculously, and she once healed a leprosy by licking it. 
 She died in 1607. 
 
 The old English Cemetery, as it is usually called the 
 Protestant Cemetery, as it should be called is an oval 
 garden of death in the Piazza Donatello, at the end of 
 the Via di Pinti and the Via Alfieri, rising up from the 
 boulevard that surrounds the northern half of Florence. 
 (The new Protestant Cemetery is outside the city on the 
 road to the Certosa.) I noticed, as I walked beneath the 
 cypresses, the grave of Arthur Hugh Clough, the poet of 
 " Dipsychus," who died here in Florenceon November 13th, 
 1861 ; of Walter Savage Landor, that old lion (born 
 January 30th, 1775 ; died September 17th, 1864), of whom 
 I shall say much more in a later chapter ; of his son Arnold, 
 who was born in 1818 and died in 1871 ; and of Mrs. 
 Holman Hunt, who died in 1866. But the most famous 
 grave is that of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who lies be- 
 neath a massive tomb that bears only the initials E.B.B. 
 and the date, 1861. "Italy," wrote James Thomson, the 
 poet of "The City of Dreadful Night," on hearing of Mrs. 
 Browning's death, 
 
 "Italy, you hold in trust 
 Very sacred human dust."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE CASCINE AND THE ARNO 
 
 Florence's Bois de Boulogne Shelley The races The game of 
 Pallone SS. Ognissanti Botticelli and Ghirlandaio Amerigo Ves- 
 pucci The Platonic Academy's garden Alberti's Palazzo Rucellai 
 Melancholy decay Two smiling boys The Corsini palace The 
 Trinita bridge The Borgo San Jacopo from the back Home fishing 
 SS. Apostoli A sensitive river The Ponte Vecchio The goldsmiths 
 S. Stefano. 
 
 Cascine is the "Bois" of Florence ; but it does not 
 compare with the Parisian expanse either in size or 
 attraction. Here the wealthy Florentines drive, the mid- 
 dle classes saunter and ride bicycles, the poor enjoy picnics, 
 and the English take country walks. The further one goes 
 the better it is, and the better also the river, which at the 
 very end of the woods becomes such a;$tream as the plein- 
 airistes love, with pollarded trees on either side. Among 
 the trees of one of these woods nearly & Jmndred years ago, 
 a walking Englishman named Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote 
 his " Ode to the West Wind." 
 
 The Cascine is a Bois also in having % race-course in it 
 a small course with everything aboutf it on a little scale, 
 grandstand, betting boxes, and all. And why not ? for 
 after all Florence is quite small in size, however remarkable 
 in character. Here funny little race-meetings are held, 
 beginning on Easter Monday and continuing at intervals 
 until the weather gets too hot. The Florentines pour out 
 in their hundreds and lie about in the long grass among the 
 
 286
 
 PALLONE 287 
 
 wild flowers, and in their fives and tens back their fancies. 
 The system is the pari-mutuel, and here one seems to be 
 more at its mercy even than in France. The odds keep 
 distressingly low ; but no one seems to be either elated or 
 depressed, whatever happens. To be at the races is the 
 thing to walk about and watch the people and enjoy the 
 air. It is the most orderly frugal scene, and the baleful 
 and mysterious power of the racehorse to poison life and 
 landscape, as in England, does not exist here. 
 
 To the Cascine also in the spring and autumn several 
 hundred Florentine men come every afternoon to see the 
 game of pallone and risk a few lire on their favourite 
 players. Mr. Ruskin, whose "Mornings in Florence" is 
 still the textbook of the devout, is severe enough upon 
 those visitors who even find it in their hearts to shop and 
 gossip in the city of Giotto. What then would he have 
 said of one who has spent not a few afternoon hours, 
 between five and six, in watching the game of pallone ? 
 I would not call pallone a good game. Compared with 
 tennis, it is nothing; compared with lawn tennis, it is 
 poor; compared with football, it is anaemic; yet in an 
 Italian city, after Hhe galleries have closed, on a warm 
 afternoon, it will 4oi and it will more than do as affording 
 an opportunity of seeing muscular Italian athletes in the 
 pink of condition. The game is played by six, three each 
 side : a battitore, wHo smites the ball, which is served to him 
 very much as in rodjiders ; the spalla, who plays back ; and 
 the terzino, who plays forward. The court is sixty or more 
 yards long, on one side being a very high wall and on the 
 other and at each end netting. The implements are the 
 ball, which is hollow and of leather, about half the size of 
 a football, and a cylinder studded with spikes, rather like 
 a huge fir cone or pine-apple, which is placed over the
 
 288 THE CASCINE AND THE ARNO 
 
 wrist and forearm to hit the ball with; and the game is 
 much as in tennis, only there is no central net : merely 
 a line. Each man's ambition, however, is less to defeat 
 the returning power of the foe than to paralyse it by 
 hitting the ball out of reach. It is as though a batsman 
 were out if he failed to hit three wides. 
 
 A good battitore, for instance, can smite the ball right 
 down the sixty yards into the net, above the head of the 
 opposing spalla who stands awaiting it at the far end. Such 
 a stroke is to the English mind a blot, and it is no un- 
 common thing, after each side has had a good rally, to see 
 the battitore put every ball into the net in this way and 
 so win the game without his opponents having one return ; 
 which is the very negation of sport. Each inning lasts 
 until one side has gained eight points, the points going to 
 whichever player makes the successful stroke. This means 
 that the betting and of course there is betting is upon 
 individuals and not upon sides. 
 
 The pari-mutuel system is that which is adopted at both 
 the pallone courts in Florence (there is another at the 
 Piazza Beccaria), and the unit is two lire. Bets are in- 
 vited on the winner and the second, and place-money is 
 paid on both. No wonder then that as the game draws to 
 a close the excitement becomes intense; while during its 
 progress feeling runs high too. For how can a young 
 Florentine who has his money on, say, Gabri the battitore, 
 withhold criticism when Gabri's arm fails and the ball drops 
 comfortably for the terzino Ugo to smash it into Gabri's 
 net ? Such a lapse should not pass unnoticed ; nor does it. 
 
 From the Cascine we may either return to Florence 
 along the banks of the river, or cross the river by the vile 
 iron Ponte Sospeso and enter the city again, on the Pitti 
 side, by the imposing Porta S. Frediano. Supposing that
 
 INJUSTICE TO COLUMBUS 289 
 
 we return by the Lungarno Amerigo Vespucci there is little 
 to notice, beyond costly modern houses of a Portland Place 
 type and the inevitable Garibaldi statue, until, just past 
 the oblique pescaja (or weir), we see across the Piazza 
 Manin the church of All Saints S. Salvadore d'Ognissanti, 
 which must be visited since it is the burial-place of Bot- 
 ticelli and Amerigo Vespucci, the chapel of the Vespucci 
 family being painted by Ghirlandaio ; and since here too lies 
 Botticelli's beautiful Simonetta, who so untimely died. 
 According to Vasari the frescoes of S. Jerome by Ghirlandaio 
 and S. Augustine by Botticelli were done in competition. 
 They were painted, as it happens, elsewhere, but moved 
 here without injury. I think the S. Jerome is the more 
 satisfying, a benevolent old scientific author a Lord 
 Avebury of the canon with his implements about him on 
 a tapestry tablecloth, a brass candlestick, his cardinal's hat, 
 and a pair of tortoise-shell eyeglasses handy. S. Augustine 
 is also scientific ; astronomical books and instruments sur- 
 round him too. His tablecloth is linen. 
 
 Amerigo Vespucci, whose statue we saw in the Uffizi 
 portico colonnade, was a Florentine by birth who settled in 
 Spain and took to exploration. His discoveries were im- 
 portant, but America is not really among them, for Colum- 
 bus, whom he knew and supported financially, got there 
 first. By a mistake in the date in his account of his travels, 
 Vespucci's name came to be given to the new continent, 
 and it was then too late to alter it. He became a naturalized 
 Spaniard and died in 1512. Columbus indeed suffers 
 in Florence; for had it not been for Vespucci, America 
 would no doubt be called Columbia; while Brunelleschi 
 anticipated him in the egg trick. 
 
 The church is very proud of possessing the robe of S. 
 Francis, which is displayed once a year on October 4th. In
 
 290 THE CASCINE AND THE ARNO 
 
 the refectory is a " Last Supper " by Ghirlandaio, not quite 
 so good as that which we saw at S. Marco, but very similar, 
 and, like that, deriving from Castagno's at the Cenacolo di 
 Sant' Apollonia. The predestined Judas is once more on 
 the wrong side of the table. 
 
 Returning to the river bank again, we are at once among 
 the hotels and pensions, which continue cheek by jowl right 
 away to the Ponte Vecchio and beyond. In the Piazza 
 Goldoni, where the Ponte Carraia springs off, several 
 streets meet, best of them and busiest of them being that 
 Via della Vigna Nuova which one should miss few oppor- 
 tunities of walking along, for here is the palazzo at No. 20 
 
 which Leon Battista Albert! designed for the Rucellai. 
 The Rucellai family's present palace, I may say here, is in 
 the Via della Scala, and by good fortune I found at the 
 door sunning himself a complacent major-domo who, the 
 house being empty of its august owners, allowed me to 
 walk through into the famous garden the Orti Oricellari 
 
 where the Platonic Academy met for a while in Bernardo 
 Rucellai's day. A monument inscribed with their names 
 has been erected among the evergreens. Afterwards the 
 garden was given by Francis I to his beloved Bianca 
 Capella. Its natural beauties are impaired by a gigantic 
 statue of Polyphemus, bigger than any other statue in 
 Florence. 
 
 The new Rucellai palace does not compare with the old, 
 which is, I think, the most beautiful of all the private houses 
 of the great day, and is more easily seen too, for there is 
 a little piazza in front of it. The palace, with its lovely 
 design and its pilastered windows, is now a rookery, 
 while various industries thrive beneath it. Part of the 
 right side has been knocked away ; but even still the pro- 
 portions are noble. This is a bad quarter for vandalism ;
 
 THE VIA DE 5 VAGELLAI FROM THE PIAZZA S. JACOPO TRAFOSSI
 
 THE RUCELLAI CHAPEL 291 
 
 for in the piazza opposite is a most exquisite little loggia, 
 built in 1468, the three lovely arches of which have been 
 filled in and now form the windows of an English estab- 
 lishment known as " The Artistic White House." An ab- 
 surd name, for if it were really artistic it would open up the 
 arches again. 
 
 The Rucellai chapel, behind the palace, is in the Via della 
 Spada, and the key must be asked for in the palace stables. 
 It is in a shocking state, and quite in keeping with the 
 traditions of the neighbourhood, while the old church of 
 S. Pancrazio, its neighbour, is now a Government tobacco 
 factory. The Rucellai chapel contains a model of the 
 Holy Sepulchre, at Jerusalem, in marble and intarsia, by 
 the great Alberti one of the most jewel-like little build- 
 ings imaginable. Within it are the faint vestiges of a fresco 
 which the stable-boy calls a Botticelli, and indeed the 
 hands and faces of the angels, such as one can see of them 
 with a farthing dip, do not render the suggestion impossible. 
 On the altar is a terra-cotta Christ which he calls a Dona- 
 tello, and again he may be right ; but fury at a condition of 
 things that can permit such a beautiful place to be so des- 
 ecrated renders it impossible to be properly appreciative. 
 
 Since we are here, instead of returning direct to the 
 river let us go a few yards along this Via della Spada to 
 the left, cross the Via de' Fossi, and so come to the busy 
 Via di Pallazzuolo, on the left of which, past the piazza of 
 S. Paolino, is the little church of S. Francesco de' Van- 
 chetoni. This church is usually locked, but the key is 
 next door, on the right, and it has to be obtained be- 
 cause over the right sacristy door is a boy's head by 
 Rossellino, and over the left a boy's head by Desiderio da 
 Settignano, and each is joyful and perfect. 
 
 The Via de' Fossi will bring us again to the Piazza
 
 292 THE CASCINE AND THE ARNO 
 
 Goldoni and the Arno, and a few yards farther along there 
 is a palace to be seen, the Corsini, the only palazzo still 
 inhabited by its family to which strangers are admitted 
 the long low white facade with statues on the top and 
 a large courtyard, on the Lungarno Corsini, just after 
 the Piazza Goldoni. It is not very interesting and be- 
 longs to the wrong period, the seventeenth century. It 
 is open on fixed days, and free save that one manservant 
 receives the visitor and another conducts him from room 
 to room. There are many pictures, but few of outstanding 
 merit, and the authorship of some of these has been 
 challenged. Thus, the cartoon of Julius II, which is called 
 a Raphael and seems to be the sketch for one of the well- 
 known portraits at the Pitti, Uffizi, or our National Gal- 
 lery, is held to be not by Raphael at all. Among the 
 pleasantest pictures are a Lippo Lippi Madonna and Child, 
 a Filippino Lippi Madonna and Child with Angels, and a 
 similar group by Botticelli ; but one has a feeling that Carlo 
 Dolci and Guido Reni are the true heroes of the house. 
 Guido Reni's Lucrezia Romana, with a dagger which she 
 has already thrust two inches into her bosom, as though it 
 were cheese, is one of the most foolish pictures I ever saw. 
 The Corsini family having given the world a pope, a case 
 of papal vestments is here. It was this Pope when Cardinal 
 Corsini who said to Dr. Johnson's friend, Mrs. Piozzi, 
 meeting him in Florence in 1785, " Well, Madam, you 
 never saw one of us red-legged partridges before, I believe." 
 There may be more beautiful bridges in the world than 
 the Trinita, but I have seen none. Its curve is so gentle 
 and soft, and its three arches so light and graceful, that 
 I wonder that whenever new bridges are necessary the 
 authorities do not insist upon the Trinita being copied. 
 The Ponte Vecchio, of course, has a separate interest of its
 
 THE TRINITA BRIDGE 293 
 
 own, and stands apart, like the Rial to. It is a bridge 
 by chance, one might almost say. But the Trinita is a 
 bridge in intent and supreme at that, the most perfect union 
 of two river banks imaginable. It shows to what depths 
 modern Florence can fall how little she esteems her past 
 
 that the iron bridge by the Cascine should ever have 
 been built. 
 
 The various yellows of Florence the prevailing colours 
 
 are spread out nowhere so favourably as on the Pitti 
 side of the river between the Trinita and the Ponte Vecchio, 
 on the backs of the houses of the Borgo San Jacopo, and 
 just so must this row have looked for four hundred years. 
 Certain of the occupants of these tenements, even on the 
 upper floors, have fishing nets, on pulleys, which they let 
 down at intervals during the day for the minute fish which 
 seem to be as precious to Italian fishermen as sparrows and 
 wrens to Italian gunners. 
 
 The great palace at the Trinita end of this stretch of 
 yellow buildings the Frescobaldi must have been very 
 striking when the loggia was open : the three rows of 
 double arches that are now walled in. From this point, 
 as well as from similar points on the other side of the 
 Ponte Vecchio, one realizes the mischief done by Cosimo I's 
 secret passage across it; for not only does the passage 
 impose a straight line on a bridge that was never intended 
 to have one, but it cuts Florence in two. If it were not 
 for its large central arches one would, from the other 
 bridges or the embankment, see nothing whatever of the 
 further side of the city ; but as it is, through these arches 
 one has heavenly vignettes. 
 
 We leave the river again for a few minutes about fifty 
 yards along the Lungarno Acciaioli beyond the Trinita 
 and turn up a narrow passage to see the little church of
 
 294 THE CASCINE AND THE ARNO 
 
 SS. Apostoli, where there is a delightful gay ciborium, all 
 bright colours and happiness, attributed to Andrea della 
 Robbia, with pretty cherubs and pretty angels, and a be- 
 nignant Christ and flowers and fruit which cannot but 
 chase away gloom and dubiety. Here also is a fine tomb 
 by the sculptor of the elaborate chimney-piece which we 
 saw in the Bargello, Benedetto da Rovezzano, who also 
 designed the church's very beautiful door. Whether or 
 not it is true that SS. Apostoli was built by Charlemagne, 
 it is certainly very old and architecturally of great interest. 
 Vasari says that Brunelleschi acquired from it his inspira- 
 tion for S. Lorenzo and S. Spirito. To many Florentines 
 its principal importance is its custody of the Pazzi flints 
 for the igniting of the sacred fire which in turn ignites the 
 famous Carro. 
 
 Returning again to the embankment, we are quickly at 
 the Ponte Vecchio, where it is pleasant at all times to 
 loiter and observe both the river and the people; while 
 from its central arches one sees the mountains. From 
 no point are the hill of S. Miniato and its stately cypresses 
 more beautiful; but one cannot see the church itself 
 only the church of S. Niccolb below it, and of course 
 the bronze " David." In dry weather the Arno if. green ; 
 in rainy weather yellow. It is so sensitive that one 
 can almost see it respond to the most distant shower; 
 but directly the rain falls and it is fed by a thousand 
 Apennine torrents, it foams past this bridge in fury. 
 The Ponte Vecchio was the work, upon a Roman founda- 
 tion, of Taddeo Gaddi, Giotto's godson, in the middle of 
 the fourteenth century, but the shops are, of course, more 
 recent. The passage between the Pitti and Uffizi was 
 added in 1564. Gaddi, who was a fresco painter first and 
 architect afterwards, was employed because Giotto was
 
 THE PONTE VECCHIO 295 
 
 absent in Milan, Giotto being the first thought of every 
 one in difficulties at that time. The need, however, was 
 pressing, for a flood in 1333 had destroyed a large part 
 of the Roman bridge. Gaddi builded so well that when, 
 two hundred and more years later, another flood severely 
 damaged three other bridges, the Ponte Vecchio was un- 
 harmed. None the less it is not Gaddi's bust but Cellini's 
 that has the post of honour in the centre; but this is, of 
 course, because Cellini was a goldsmith, and it is to gold- 
 smiths that the shops belong. Once it was the butchers' 
 quarter ! 
 
 I never cross the Ponte Vecchio and see these artificers 
 in their blouses through the windows, without wonder- 
 ing if in any of their boy assistants is the Michelangelo, 
 or Orcagna, or Ghirlandaio, or even Cellini, of the future, 
 since all of those, and countless others of the Renaissance 
 masters, began in precisely this way. 
 
 The odd thing is that one is on the Ponte Vecchio, from 
 either end, before one knows it to be a bridge at all. A 
 street of sudden steepness is what it seems to be. Not 
 the least charming thing upon it is the masses of groundsel 
 which have established themselves on the pent roof over 
 the goldsmiths' shops. Every visitor to Florence must 
 have longed to occupy one of these little bridge houses ; 
 but I am not aware that any has done so. 
 
 One of the oldest streets in Florence must be the Via 
 Girolami, from the Ponte Vecchio to the Uffizi, under an 
 arch. A turning to the left brings one to the Piazza S. 
 Stefano, where the barn-like church of S. Stefano is entered : 
 and close by is the Torre de' Girolami, where S. Zenobius 
 lived. S. Stefano, although it is now so easily overlooked, 
 was of importance in its day, and it was here that Niccolo 
 da Uzzano, the leader of the nobles, held a meeting to
 
 296 THE CASC1NE AND THE ARNO 
 
 devise means of checking the growing power of the people 
 early in the fifteenth century and was thwarted by old 
 Giovanni de' Medici. From that thwarting proceeded the 
 power of the Medici family and the gloriously endowed 
 Florence that we travel to see.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 8. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 The great churches of Florence A Dominican cathedral The "De- 
 cameron" begins Domenico Ghirlandaio Alessio Baldovinetti The 
 Louvre The S. Maria Novella frescoes Giovanni and Lorenzo Torna- 
 buoni Ruskin implacable Cimabue's Madonna Filippino Lippi 
 Orcagna's "Last Judgment" The Cloisters of Florence The Spanish 
 Chapel S. Dominic triumphant Giotto at his sweetest The 
 "Wanderer's" doom The Piazza as an arena. 
 
 S MARIA NOVELLA is usually bracketed with S. 
 Croce as the most interesting Florentine church after 
 the Duomo, but S. Lorenzo has of course to be reckoned 
 with very seriously. I think that for interest I should place 
 S. Maria Novella fifth, including also the Baptistery before 
 it, but architecturally second. Its interior is second in 
 beauty only to S. Croce. S. Croce is its immediate reli- 
 gious rival, for it was because the Dominicans had S. Maria 
 Novella, begun in 1278, that several years later the Fran- 
 ciscans determined to have an equally important church 
 and built S. Croce. The S. Maria Novella architects were 
 brothers of the order, but Talenti, whom we saw at work 
 both on Giotto's tower and Or San Michele, built the cam- 
 panile, and Leon Battista Alberti the marble facade, many 
 years later. The richest patrons of S. Maria Novella 
 corresponding to the Medici at S. Lorenzo and the Bardi 
 at S. Croce were the Rucellai, whose palace, designed 
 also by the wonderful versatile Alberti, we have seen. 
 
 297
 
 298 S. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 The interior of S. Maria Novella is very fine and spacious, 
 and it gathers and preserves an exquisite light at all times 
 of the day. Nowhere in Florence is there a finer aisle, 
 with the roof springing so nobly and masterfully from the 
 eight columns on either side. The whole effect, like that 
 of S. Croce, is rather northern, the result of the yellow and 
 brown hues ; but whereas S. Croce has a crushing flat roof, 
 this one is all soaring gladness. 
 
 The finest view of the interior is from the altar steps 
 looking back to the beautiful circular window over the en- 
 trance, a mass of happy colour. In the afternoon the little 
 plain circular windows high up in the aisle shoot shafts of 
 golden light upon the yellow walls. The high altar of 
 inlaid marble is, I think, too bright and too large. The 
 church is more impressive on Good Friday, when over 
 this altar is built a Calvary with the crucifix on the sum- 
 mit and life-size mourners at its foot; while a choir and 
 string orchestra make superbly mournful music. 
 
 I like to think that it was within the older S. Maria 
 Novella that those seven mirthful young ladies of Florence 
 remained one morning in 1348, after Mass, to discuss plans 
 of escape from the city during the plague. As here they 
 chatted and plotted, there entered the church three young 
 men ; and what simpler than to engage them as companions 
 in their retreat, especially as all three, like all seven of the 
 young women, were accomplished tellers of stories with 
 no fear whatever of Mrs. Grundy ? And thus the "De- 
 cameron" of Giovanni Boccaccio came about. 
 
 S. Maria Novella also resembles S. Croce in its moving 
 groups of sight-seers each in the hands of a guide. These 
 one sees always and hears always : so much so that a re- 
 minder has been printed and set up here and there in this 
 church, to the effect that it is primarily the house of God
 
 GHIRLANDAIO 299 
 
 and for worshippers. But S. Maria Novella has not a tithe 
 of S. Croce's treasures. Having almost no tombs of first 
 importance, it has to rely upon its interior beauty and 
 upon its frescoes, and its chief glory, whatever Mr. Ruskin, 
 who hated them, might say, is, for most people, Ghirlan- 
 daio's series of scenes in the life of the Virgin and S. John the 
 Baptist. These cover the walls of the choir and for more 
 than four centuries have given delight to Florentines and 
 foreigners. Such was the thoroughness of their painter in 
 his colour mixing (in which the boy Michelangelo assisted 
 him) that, although they have sadly dimmed and require 
 the best morning light, they should endure for centuries 
 longer, a reminder not only of the thoughtful, sincere, in- 
 teresting art of Ghirlandaio and of the pious generosity 
 of the Tornabuoni family, who gave them, but also of the 
 costumes and carriage of the Florentine ladies at the end 
 of the fifteenth century when Lorenzo the Magnificent was 
 in his zenith. Domenico Ghirlandaio may not be quite 
 of the highest rank among the makers of Florence; but 
 he comes very near it, and indeed, by reason of being Michel- 
 angelo's first instructor, perhaps should stand amid them. 
 But one thing is certain that without him Florence would 
 be the poorer by many beautiful works. 
 
 He was born in 1449, twenty-one years after the death 
 of Masaccio and three before Leonardo, twenty-six before 
 Michelangelo, and thirty-four before Raphael. His full 
 name was Domenico or Tommaso di Currado di Doffo 
 Bigordi, but his father Tommaso Bigordi, a goldsmith, 
 having hit upon a peculiarly attractive way of making 
 garlands for the hair, was known as Ghirlandaio, the gar- 
 land maker ; and time has effaced the Bigordi completely. 
 
 The portraits of both Tommaso and Domenico, side by 
 side, occur in the fresco representing Joachim driven from
 
 300 S. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 the Temple : Domenico, who is to be seen second from the 
 extreme right, a little resembles our Charles II. Like 
 his father, and, as we have seen, like most of the artists of 
 Florence, he too became a goldsmith, and his love of 
 the jewels that goldsmiths made may be traced in his 
 pictures ; but at an early age he was sent to Alessio 
 Baldovinetti to learn to be a painter. Alessio's work we 
 find all over Florence : a Last Judgment in the Accademia, 
 for example, but that is not a very pleasing thing; 
 a Madonna Enthroned, in the Uffizi ; the S. Miniato 
 frescoes ; the S. Trinita frescoes ; and that extremely 
 charming although faded work in the outer court of SS. 
 Annunziata. For the most delightful picture from his 
 hand, however, one has to go to the Louvre, where there is 
 a Madonna and Child (1300 a), in the early Tuscan room, 
 which has a charm not excelled by any such group that 
 I know. The photographers still call it a Piero della 
 Francesca, and the Louvre authorities omit to name it at 
 all ; but it is Alessio beyond question. Next it hangs the 
 best Ghirlandaio that I know the very beautiful Visitation, 
 and, to add to the interest of this room to the returning 
 Florentine wanderer, on the same wall are two far more 
 attractive works by Bastiano Mainardi (Ghirlandaio's 
 brother-in-law and assistant at S. Maria Novella) than any 
 in Florence. 
 
 Alessio, who was born in 1427, was an open-handed 
 ingenious man who could not only paint and do mosaic 
 but once made a wonderful clock for Lorenzo. His experi- 
 ments with colour were disastrous : hence most of his fres- 
 coes have perished ; but possibly it was through Alessio's 
 mistakes that Ghirlandaio acquired the use of such a last- 
 ing medium. Alessio was an independent man who painted 
 from taste and not necessity.
 
 GHIRLANDAIO 301 
 
 Ghirlandaio's chief influences, however, were Masaccio, 
 at the Carmine, Fra Lippo Lippi, and Verrocchio, who is 
 thought also to have been Baldovinetti's pupil and whose 
 Baptism of Christ, in the Accademia, painted when Ghirlan- 
 daio was seventeen, must have given Ghirlandaio the lines 
 for his own treatment of the incident in this church. One 
 has also only to compare Verrocchio's sculptured Madonnas 
 in the Bargello with many of Ghirlandaio's to see the 
 influence again ; both were attracted by a similar type of 
 sweet, easy-natured girl. 
 
 When he was twenty-six Ghirlandaio went to Rome to 
 paint the Sixtine library, and then to San Gimignano, 
 where he was assisted by Mainardi, who was to remain his 
 most valuable ally in executing the large commissions which 
 were to come to his workshop. His earliest Florentine 
 frescoes are those which we shall see at Ognissanti; the 
 Madonna della Misericordia and the Deposition painted 
 for the Vespuccij family and only recently discovered, 
 together with the S. Jerome, in the church, and the Last 
 Supper, in the refectory. By this time Ghirlandaio 
 and Botticelli were in some sort of rivalry, although, so 
 far as I know, friendly enough, and both went to Rome 
 in 1481, together with Perugino, Piero di Cosimo, Cosimo 
 Rosselli, Luca Signorelli and others, at the command of 
 Pope Sixtus IV to decorate the Sixtine chapel, the excom- 
 munication of all Florentines which the Pope had decreed 
 after the failure of the Pazzi Conspiracy to destroy the 
 Medici (as we saw in Chapter II) having been removed in 
 order to get these excellent workmen to the Holy City. 
 Painting very rapidly the little band had finished their 
 work in six months, and Ghirlandaio was at home again 
 with such an ambition and industry in him that he once 
 expressed the wish that every inch of the walls of Florence
 
 302 S. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 might be covered by his brush and in those days Florence 
 had walls all round it, with twenty-odd towers in addition 
 to the gates. His next great frescoes were those in the 
 Palazzo Vecchio and S. Trinita. It was in 1485 that he 
 painted his delightful Adoration at the Accademia, and 
 in 1486 he began his great series at S. Maria Novella, 
 finishing them in 1490, his assistants being his brother 
 David, Benedetto Mainardi, who married Ghirlandaio's 
 sister, and certain apprentices, among them the youthful 
 Michelangelo, who came to the studio in 1488. 
 
 The story of the frescoes is this. Ghirlandaio when in 
 Rome had met Giovanni Tornabuoni, a wealthy merchant 
 whose wife had died in childbirth. Her death we have 
 already seen treated in relief by Verrocchio in the Bargello. 
 Ghirlandaio was first asked to beautify in her honour the 
 Minerva at Rome, where she was buried, and this he did. 
 Later when Giovanni Tornabuoni wished to present S. Maria 
 Novella with a handsome benefaction, he induced the Ricci 
 family, who owned this chapel, to allow him to re-decorate 
 it, and engaged Ghirlandaio for the task. This meant first 
 covering the fast fading frescoes by Orcagna, which were 
 already there, and then painting over them. What the 
 Orcagnas were like we cannot know ; but the substitute, 
 although probably it had less of curious genius in it, 
 was undoubtedly more attractive to the ordinary ob- 
 server. 
 
 The right wall, as one faces the window (whose richness 
 of coloured glass, although so fine in the church as a 
 whole, is here such a privation), is occupied by scenes in the 
 story of the Baptist; the left by the life of the Virgin. 
 The left of the lowest pair on the right wall represents 
 S. Mary and S. Elizabeth, and in it a party of Ghirlandaio's 
 stately Florentine ladies watch the greeting of the two
 
 FAIR FLORENTINES 303 
 
 saints outside Florence itself, symbolized rather than 
 portrayed, very near the church in which we stand. 
 The girl in yellow, on the right of the picture, with her 
 handkerchief in her hand and wearing a rich dress, is Gio- 
 vanna degli Albizzi, who married Lorenzo Tornabuoni at the 
 Villa Lemmi near Florence, that villa from which Botticelli's 
 exquisite fresco, now in the Louvre at the top of the main 
 staircase, in which she again is to be seen, was taken. Her 
 life was a sad one, for her husband was one of those who 
 conspired with Piero di Lorenzo de' Medici for his return 
 some ten years later, and was beheaded. S. Elizabeth is 
 of course the older woman. The companion to this pic- 
 ture represents the angel appearing to S. Zacharias, and 
 here again Ghirlandaio gives us contemporary Florentines, 
 portraits of distinguished Tornabuoni men and certain 
 friends of eminence among them. In the little group low 
 down on the left, for example, are Poliziano and Marsilio 
 Ficino, the Platonist. Above but seeing is beginning to 
 be difficult the pair of frescoes represent, on the right, the 
 birth of the Baptist, and on the left, his naming. The 
 birth scene has much beauty, and is as well composed as 
 any, and there is a girl in it of superb grace and nobility ; 
 but the birth scene of the Virgin, on the opposite wall, is 
 perhaps the finer and certainly more easily seen. In the 
 naming of the child we find Medici portraits once more, 
 that family being related to the Tornabuoni; and Mr. 
 Davies, in his book on Ghirlandaio, offers the interesting 
 suggestion, which he supports very reasonably, that the 
 painter has made the incident refer to the naming of 
 Lorenzo de' Medici's third son, Giovanni (or John), who 
 afterwards became Pope Leo X. In that case the man on 
 the left, in green, with his hand on his hip, would be 
 Lorenzo himself, whom he certainly resembles. Who the
 
 304 S. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 sponsor is not known. The landscape and architecture 
 are alike charming. 
 
 Above these we faintly see that strange Baptism of Christ, 
 so curiously like the Verrocchio in the Accademia, and the 
 Baptist preaching. 
 
 The left wall is perhaps the favourite. We begin with 
 Joachim being driven from the Temple, one of the lowest 
 pair; and this has a peculiar interest in giving us a por- 
 trait of the painter and his associates the figure on the 
 extreme right being Benedetto Mainardi ; then Domenico 
 Ghirlandaio ; then his father ; and lastly his brother David. 
 On the opposite side of the picture is the fated Lorenzo 
 Tornabuoni, of whom I have spoken above, the figure 
 farthest from the edge, with his hand on his hip. The 
 companion picture is the most popular of all the Birth of 
 the Virgin certainly one of the most charming interiors 
 in Florence. Here again we have portraits no doubt 
 Tornabuoni ladies and much pleasant fancy on the part 
 of the painter, who made everything as beautiful as he 
 could, totally unmindful of the probabilities. Ruskin is 
 angry with him for neglecting to show the splashing of the 
 water in the vessel, but it would be quite possible for no 
 splashing to be visible, especially if the pouring had only 
 just begun; but for Ruskin's strictures you must go to 
 " Mornings in Florence," where poor Ghirlandaio gets a lash 
 for every virtue of Giotto. Next above, on the left we 
 have the Presentation of the Virgin, and on the right her 
 Marriage. The Presentation is considered by Mr. Davies 
 to be almost wholly the work of Ghirlandaio's assistants, 
 while the youthful Michelangelo himself has been credited 
 with the half-naked figure on the steps, although Mr. 
 Davies gives it to Mainardi. Mainardi again is probably 
 the author of the companion scene. The remaining fres-
 
 CIMABUE'S MADONNA 305 
 
 coes are of less interest and much damaged; but in the 
 window wall one should notice the portraits of Giovanni 
 Tornabuoni and Francesca di Luca Pitti, his wife, kneeling, 
 because this Giovanni was the donor of the frescoes, and his 
 sister Lucrezia was the wife of Piero de' Medici and there- 
 fore the mother of Lorenzo the Magnificent, while Fran- 
 cesca Tornabuoni, the poor lady who died in childbirth, 
 was the daughter of that proud Florentine who began the 
 Pitti palace but ended his life in disgrace. 
 
 And so we leave this beautiful recess, where pure re- 
 ligious feeling may perhaps be wanting but where the best 
 spirit of the Renaissance is to be found : everything mak- 
 ing for harmony and pleasure ; and on returning to London 
 the visitor should make a point of seeing the Florentine 
 girl by the same hand in our National Gallery, No. 1230, 
 for she is very typical of his genius. 
 
 On the entrance wall of the church is what must once 
 have been a fine Masaccio " The Trinity ' ' but it is in very 
 bad condition ; while in the Cappella Rucellai in the right 
 transept is what purports to be a Cimabue, very like the 
 one in the Accademia, but with a rather more matured 
 Child in it. Vasari tells us that on its completion this 
 picture was carried in stately procession from the painter's 
 studio to the church, in great rejoicing and blowing of 
 trumpets, the populace being moved not only by religious 
 ecstasy, but by pride in an artist who could make such a 
 beautiful and spacious painting, the largest then known. 
 Vasari adds that when Cimabue was at work upon it, 
 Charles of Anjou, visiting Florence, was taken to his studio, 
 to see the wonderful painter, and a number of Florentines 
 entering too, they broke out into such rejoicings that the 
 locality was known ever after as Borgo Allegro or Joyful 
 Quarter. This would be about 1290. There was a cer-
 
 306 S. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 tain fitness in Cimabue painting this Madonna, for it is 
 said that he had his education in the convent which stood 
 here before the present church was begun. But I should 
 add that of Cimabue we know practically nothing, and that 
 most of Vasari's statements have been confuted, while the 
 painter of the S. Maria Novella Madonna is held by some 
 authorities to be Duccio of Siena. So where are we ? 
 
 The little chapel next the choir on the right is that of 
 Filippo Strozzi the elder who was one of the witnesses of 
 the Pazzi outrage in the Duomo in 1478. This was the 
 Filippo Strozzi who began the Strozzi palace in 1489, 
 father of the Filippo Strozzi who married Lorenzo de' 
 Medici's noble grand-daughter Clarice and came to a tragic 
 end under Cosimo I. Old Filippo's tomb here was designed 
 by Benedetto da Maiano, who made the famous Franciscan 
 pulpit in S. Croce, and was Ghirlandaio's friend and the 
 Strozzi palace's first architect. The beautiful circular relief 
 of the Virgin and Child, with a border of roses and flying wor- 
 shipping angels all about it, behind the altar, is Benedetto's 
 too, and very lovely and human are both Mother and Child. 
 
 The frescoes in this chapel, by Filippino Lippi, are in- 
 teresting, particularly that one on the left, depicting the 
 Resuscitation of Drusiana by S. John the Evangelist, at 
 Rome, in which the group of women and children on the 
 right, with the little dog, is full of life and most naturally 
 done. Above (but almost impossible to see) is S. John in 
 his cauldron of boiling oil between Roman soldiers and 
 the denouncing Emperor, under the banner S.P.Q.R. a 
 work in which Roman local colour completely excludes re- 
 ligious feeling. Opposite, below, we see S. Philip exorcis- 
 ing a dragon, a very florid scene, and, above, a painfully 
 spirited and realistic representation of the Crucifixion. 
 The sweetness of the figures of Charity and Faith in mono-
 
 THE BIRTH OF THE VIRGIN 
 
 FROM THE FRESCO BY GHIRLANDA1O IN S. MARIA NOVELLA
 
 ORCAGNA AGAIN 307 
 
 chrome and gold helps, with Benedetto's tondo, to engentle 
 the air. 
 
 We then come again to the Choir, with Ghirlandaio's 
 urbane Florentine pageant in the guise of sacred history, 
 and pass on to the next chapel, the Cappella Gondi, where 
 that crucifix in wood is to be seen which Brunelleschi carved 
 as a lesson to Donatello,who received it like the gentleman 
 he was. I have told the story in Chapter XV. 
 
 The left transept ends in the chapel of the Strozzi family, 
 of which Filippo was the head in his day, and here we find 
 Andrea Orcagna and his brother's fresco of Heaven, the 
 Last Judgment and Hell. It was the two Orcagnas who, 
 according to Vasari, had covered the Choir with those 
 scenes in the life of the Virgin which Ghirlandaio was 
 allowed to paint over, and Vasari adds that the later artist 
 availed himself of many of the ideas of his predecessors. 
 This, however, is not very likely, I think, except perhaps in 
 choice of subject. Orcagna, like Giotto, and later, Michel- 
 angelo, was a student of Dante, and the Strozzi Chapel 
 frescoes follow the poet's descriptions. In the Last Judg- 
 ment, Dante himself is to be seen, among the elect, in the 
 attitude of prayer. Petrarch is with him. 
 
 The sacristy is by Talenti (of the Campanile) and was 
 added in 1350. Among its treasures once were the three 
 reliquaries painted by Fra Angelico, but they are now at 
 S. Marco. It has still rich vestments, fine woodwork, 
 and a gay and elaborate lavabo by one of the della Rob- 
 bias, with its wealth of ornament and colour and its 
 charming Madonna and Child with angels. 
 
 A little doorway close by used to lead to the cloisters, 
 and a mercenary sacristan was never far distant, only too 
 ready to unlock for a fee what should never have been 
 locked, and black with fury if he got nothing. But all this
 
 308 S. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 has now been done away with, and the entrance to the 
 cloisters is from the Piazza, just to the left of the church, and 
 there is a turnstile and a fee of fifty centimes. At S. Lorenzo 
 the cloisters are free. At the Carmine and the Annunziata 
 the cloisters are free. At S. Croce the charge is a lira and 
 at S. Maria Novella half a lira. To make a charge for the 
 cloisters alone seems to me utterly wicked. Let the Pazzi 
 Chapel at S. Croce and the Spanish Chapel here have fees, 
 if you like; but the cloisters should be open to all. 
 Children should be encouraged to play there. 
 
 Since, however, S. Maria Novella imposes a fee we must 
 pay it, and the new arrangement at any rate carries this 
 advantage with it, that one knows what one is expected to 
 pay and can count on entrance. 
 
 The cloisters are everywhere interesting to loiter in, but 
 their chief fame is derived from the Spanish Chapel, which 
 gained that name when in 1566 it was put at the disposal 
 of Eleanor of Toledo's suite on the occasion of her marriage 
 to Cosimo I. Nothing Spanish about it otherwise. Both 
 structure and frescoes belong to the fourteenth century. 
 Of these frescoes, which are of historical and human interest 
 rather than artistically beautiful, that one on the right 
 wall as we enter is the most famous. It is a pictoral glori- 
 fication of the Dominican order triumphant ; with a vivid 
 reminder of the origin of the word Dominican in the episode 
 of the wolves (or heretics) being attacked by black and 
 white dogs, the Canes Domini, or hounds of the Lord. The 
 " Mornings in Florence " should here be consulted again, 
 for Ruskin made a very thorough and characteristically de- 
 cisive analysis of these paintings, which, whether one agrees 
 with it or not, is profoundly interesting. Poor old Vasari, 
 who so patiently described them too and named a number 
 of the originals of the portraits, is now shelved, and from
 
 THOMAS AQUINAS 309 
 
 both his artists, Simone Martini and Taddeo Gaddi, has 
 the authorship been taken by modern experts. Some one, 
 however, must have done the work. The Duomo as repre- 
 sented here is not the Duomo of fact, which had not then 
 its dome, but of anticipation. 
 
 Opposite, we see a representation of the triumph of the 
 greatest of the Dominicans, after its founder, S. Thomas 
 Aquinas, the author of the " Summa Theologise," who 
 died in 1274. The painter shows the Angelic Doctor en- 
 throned amid saints and patriarchs and heavenly attend- 
 ants, while three powerful heretics grovel at his feet, and 
 beneath are the Sciences and Moral Qualities and certain 
 distinguished men who served them conspicuously, such as 
 Aristotle, the logician, whom S. Thomas Aquinas edited, 
 and Cicero, the rhetorician. In real life Aquinas was so 
 modest and retiring that he would accept no exalted post 
 from the Church, but remained closeted with his books 
 and scholars ; and we can conceive what his horror would 
 be could he view this apotheosis. On the ceiling is a quaint 
 rendering of the walking on the water, S. Peter's failure 
 being watched from the ship with the utmost closeness by 
 the other disciples, but attracting no notice whatever from 
 an angler, close by, on the shore. The chapel is desolate 
 and unkempt, and those of us who are not Dominicans 
 are not sorry to leave it and look for the simple sweetness 
 of the Giottos. 
 
 These are to be found, with some difficulty, on the walls 
 of the niche^where the tomb of the Marchese Ridolf o stands. 
 They are certainly very simple and telling, and I advise every 
 one to open the " Mornings in Florence " and learn how the 
 wilful magical pen deals with them ; but it would be a pity 
 to give up Ghirlandaio because Giotto was so different, 
 as Ruskin wished. Room for both. One scene represents
 
 310 S. MARIA NOVELLA 
 
 the meeting of S. Joachim and S. Anna outside a mediaeval 
 city's walls, and it has some pretty Giottesque touches, 
 such as the man carrying doves to the Temple and the 
 angel uniting the two saints in friendliness ; and the other 
 is the Birth of the Virgin, which Ruskin was so pleased to 
 pit against Ghirlandaio's treatment of the same incident. 
 Well, it is given to some of us to see only what we want to 
 see and be blind to the rest ; and Ruskin was of these the 
 very king. I agree with him that Ghirlandaio in both his 
 Nativity frescoes thought little of the exhaustion of the 
 mothers ; but it is arguable that two such accouchements 
 might with propriety be treated as abnormal as indeed 
 every painter has treated the birth of Christ, where the 
 Virgin, fully dressed, is receiving the Magi a few moments 
 after. Ruskin, after making his deadly comparisons, con- 
 cludes thus genially of the Giotto version " If you can be 
 pleased with this, you can see Florence. But if not, by all 
 means amuse yourself there, if you can find it amusing, as 
 long as you like ; you can never see it." 
 
 The S. Maria Novella habit is one to be quickly con- 
 tracted by the visitor to Florence : nearly as important as 
 the S. Croce habit. Both churches are hospitable and, apart 
 from the cloisters, free and eminently suited for dallying 
 in ; thus differing from the Duomo, which is dark, and S. 
 Lorenzo, where there are payments to be made and attend- 
 ants to discourage. 
 
 An effort should be made at S. Maria Novella to get into 
 the old cloisters, which are very large and indicate what a 
 vast convent it once was. But there is no certainty. The 
 way is to go through to the Palaestra and hope for the 
 best. Here, as I have said in the second chapter, were 
 lodged Pope Eugenius and his suite, when they came to the 
 Council of Florence in 1439. These large and beautiful green
 
 DOMINICAN DRUGS 311 
 
 cloisters are now deserted. Through certain windows on 
 the left one may see chemists at work compounding drugs 
 and perfumes after old Dominican recipes, to be sold at the 
 Farmacia in the Via della Scala close by. The great refec- 
 tory has been turned into a gymnasium. 
 
 The two obelisks, supported by tortoises and surmounted 
 by beautiful lilies, in the Piazza of S. Maria Novella were 
 used as boundaries in the chariot races held here under 
 Cosimo I, and in the collection of old Florentine prints 
 on the top floor of Michelangelo's house you may see repre- 
 sentations of these races. The charming loggia opposite S. 
 Maria Novella, with della Robbia decorations, is the Loggia 
 di S. Paolo, a school designed, it is thought, by Brunelleschi, 
 and here, at the right hand end, we see S. Dominic him- 
 self in a friendly embrace with S. Francis, a very beautiful 
 group by either Luca or Andrea della Robbia. 
 
 In the loggia cabmen now wrangle all day and all night. 
 From it S. Maria Novella is seen under the best conditions, 
 always cheerful and serene ; while far behind the church is 
 the huge Apennine where most of the weather of Florence 
 seems to be manufactured. In mid April this year (1912) 
 it still had its cap of snow.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE TO 8. TRINITA 
 
 A city of trams The old market Donatello's figure of Abundance 
 An evening resort A hall of variety Florentines of to-day The war 
 with Turkey Homecoming heroes Restaurants The new market 
 The bronze boar A fifteenth century palace Old Florentine life re- 
 constructed Where changes are few S. Trinita Ghirlandaio again. 
 S. Francis The Strozzi palace Clarice de' Medici. 
 
 FLORENCE is not simple to the stranger. Like all 
 very old cities built fortuitously it is difficult to 
 learn : the points of the compass are elusive ; the streets 
 are so narrow that the sky is no constant guide; the 
 names of the streets are often not there ; the policemen 
 have no high standard of helpfulness. There are trams, it 
 is true too many and too noisy, and too near the pavement 
 but the names of their outward destinations, from the 
 centre, too rarely correspond to any point of interest that 
 one is desiring. Hence one has many embarrassments and 
 even annoyances. Yet I daresay this is best : an orderly 
 Florence is unthinkable. Since, however, the trams that 
 are returning to the centre nearly all go to the Duomo, 
 either passing it or stopping there, the tram becomes one's 
 best friend and the Duomo one's starting point for most 
 excursions. 
 
 Supposing ourselves to be there once more, let us quickly 
 get through the horrid necessity, which confronts one in 
 all ancient Italian cities, of seeing the Piazza Vittorio Em- 
 
 312
 
 THE OLD MARKET 313 
 
 manuele. In an earlier chapter we left the Baptistery and 
 walked along the Via Calzaioli. Again starting from the 
 Baptistery let us take the Via dell' Arcivescovado, which 
 is parallel with the Via Calzaioli, on the right of it, and 
 again walk straight forward. We shall come almost at 
 once to the great modern square. 
 
 No Italian city or town is complete without a Piazza 
 Vittorio Emmanuele and a statue of that monarch. In 
 Florence the sturdy king bestrides his horse here. Italy 
 being so old and Vittorio Emmanuele so new, it follows in 
 most cases that the square or street named after him sup- 
 plants an older one, and if the Italians had any memory 
 or imaginative interest in history they would see to it that 
 the old name was not wholly obliterated. In Florence, in 
 order to honour the first king of United Italy, much grave 
 violence was done to antiquity, for a very picturesque 
 quarter had to be cleared away for the huge brasseries, 
 stores and hotels which make up the west side; which 
 in their turn marked the site of the old market where 
 Donatello and Brunelleschi and all the later artists of the 
 great days did their shopping and met to exchange ideals 
 and banter ; and that market in its turn marked the site 
 of the Roman forum. 
 
 One of the features of the old market was the charming 
 Loggia di Pesce ; another, Donatello's figure of Abundance, 
 surmounting a column. This figure is now in the museum 
 of ancient city relics in the monastery of S. Marco, where 
 one confronts her on a level instead of looking up at her 
 in mid sky. But she is very good, none the less. 
 
 In talking to elderly persons who can remember Florence 
 forty and fifty years ago I find that nothing so distresses 
 them as the loss of the old quarter for the making of this 
 new spacious piazza ; and probably nothing can so delight
 
 314 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE 
 
 the younger Florentines as its possession, for, having noth- 
 ing to do in the evenings, they do it chiefly in the Piazza 
 Vittorio Emmanuele. Chairs and tables spring up like 
 mushrooms in the roadway, among which too few waiters 
 distribute those very inexpensive refreshments which seem 
 to be purchased rather for the right to the seat that they 
 confer than for any stimulation. It is extraordinary to the 
 eyes of the thriftless English, who are never so happy as 
 when they are overpaying Italian and other caterers in 
 their own country, to notice how long these wiser folk will 
 occupy a table on an expenditure of fourpence. 
 
 I do not mean that there are no theatres in Florence. 
 There are many, but they are not very good; and the 
 young men can do without them. Curious old theatres, 
 faded and artificial, all apparently built for the comedies 
 of Goldoni. There are cinema theatres too, at prices 
 which would delight the English public addicted to 
 those insidious entertainments, but horrify English mana- 
 gers ; and the Teatro Salvini at the back of the Palazzo 
 Vecchio is occasionally transformed into a Folies Bergeres 
 (as it is called) where one after another comediennes 
 sing each two or three songs rapidly to an audience 
 who regard them with apathy and converse without 
 ceasing. The only sign of interest which one observes is 
 the murmur which follows anything a little off the beaten 
 track a sound that might equally be encouragement or 
 disapproval. But a really pretty woman entering a box 
 moves them. Then they employ every note in the gamut ; 
 and curiously enough the pretty woman in the box is usu- 
 ally as cool under the fusillade as a professional and har- 
 dened sister would be. A strange music hall this to the 
 English eye, where the orchestra smokes, and no numbers 
 are put up, and every one talks, and the intervals seem to
 
 MADONNA DEL GRANDUCA 
 
 BY RAPHAEL IN THE PITTI
 
 THE FLORENTINES 315 
 
 be hours long. But the Florentines do not mind, for they 
 have not the English thirst for entertainment and escape ; 
 they carry their entertainment with them and do not wish 
 to escape going to such places only because they are 
 warmer than out of doors. 
 
 Sitting here and watching their ironical negligence of the, 
 stage and their interest in each other's company; their 
 animated talk and rapid decisions as to the merits and 
 charms of a performer ; the comfort of their attitudes and 
 carelessness (although never quite slovenliness) in dress ; 
 one seems to realize the nation better than anywhere. The 
 old fighting passion may have gone ; but much of the quick- 
 ness, the shrewdness and the humour remains, together 
 with the determination of each man to have if possible his 
 own way and, whether possible or not, his own say. 
 
 Seeing them in great numbers one quickly learns and 
 steadily corroborates the fact that the Florentines are not 
 beautiful. A pretty woman or a handsome man is a 
 rarity ; but a dull-looking man or woman is equally rare. 
 They are shrewd, philosophic, cynical, and very ready for 
 laughter. They look contented also : Florence clearly is 
 the best place to be born in, to live in, and to die in. Let all 
 the world come to Florence, by all means, and spend its 
 money there ; but don't ask Florence to go to the world. 
 Don't in fact ask Florence to do anything very much. 
 
 Civilization and modern conditions have done the 
 Florentines no good. Their destiny was to live in a walled 
 city in turbulent days, when the foe came against it, or 
 tyranny threatened from within and had to be resisted. 
 They were then Florentines and everything mattered. To- 
 day they are Italians and nothing matters very much. 
 Moreover, it must be galling to have somewhere in the 
 recesses of their consciousness the knowledge that their
 
 316 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE 
 
 famous city, built and cemented with their ancestors' blood, 
 is now only a museum. 
 
 When it is fine and warm the music hall does not exist, 
 and it is in the Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele that the Floren- 
 tines sit and talk, or walk and talk, or listen to the band 
 which periodically inhabits a stand near the centre; and 
 it was here that I watched the reception of the news that 
 Italy had declared war on Turkey, a decision which while 
 it rejoiced the national warlike spirit of the populace 
 could not but carry with it a reminder that wars have to 
 be paid for. Six or seven months later I saw the return 
 to Florence of the first troops from the war, and their re- 
 ception was terrific. In the mass they were welcome 
 enough ; but as soon as units could be separated from the 
 mass the fun began, for they were carried shoulder high to 
 whatever destination they wanted, their knapsacks and 
 rifles falling to proud bearers too ; while the women clapped 
 from the upper windows, the shrewd shopkeepers cheered 
 from their doorways, and the crowd which followed and sur- 
 rounded the hero every moment increased. As for the 
 heroes, they looked for the most part a good deal less foolish 
 than Englishmen would have done; but here and there 
 was one whose expression suggested that the Turks were 
 nothing to this. One poor fellow had his coat dragged 
 from his back and torn into a thousand souvenirs. 
 
 The restaurants of Florence are those of a city where the 
 natives are thrifty and the visitors dine in hotels. There 
 is one expensive high-class house, in the Via Tornabuoni 
 Doney e Nipoti or Doney et Neveux where the cooking is 
 Franco-Italian and the Chianti and wines are dear beyond 
 belief, and the venerable waiters move with a deliberation 
 which can drive a hungry man and one is always hungry 
 in this fine Tuscan air to despair. I like better the ex-
 
 "CAMERIERE!" 317 
 
 cellent old-fashioned purely Italian food and Chianti and 
 speed at Bonciani's in the Via de' Panzani, close to the 
 station. These twain are the best. But it is more interest- 
 ing to go to the huge Gambrinus in the Piazza Vittorio 
 Emmanuele, because so much is going on all the time. One 
 curious Florentine habit is quickly discovered and resented 
 by the stranger who frequents a restaurant, and that is 
 the system of changing waiters from one set of tables to 
 another; so that whereas in London and Paris the wise 
 diner is true to a corner because it carries the same service 
 with it, in Florence he must follow the service. But if the 
 restaurants have odd ways, and a limited range of dishes 
 and those not very interesting, they make up for it by being 
 astonishingly quick. Things are cooked almost miracu- 
 lously. 
 
 The Florentines eat little. But greediness is not an 
 Italian fault. No greedy people would have a five- 
 syllabled word for a waiter. 
 
 Continuing along the Via dell' Arcivescovado, which 
 after the Piazza becomes the Via Celimana, we come to that 
 very beautiful structure the Mercato Nuovo, which, how- 
 ever, is not so wonderfully new, having been built as long 
 ago as 1547-1551. Its columns and arched roof are ex- 
 quisitely proportioned. As a market it seems to be a poor 
 affair, the chief commodity being straw hats. For the 
 principal food market one has to go to the Via d' Ariento, 
 near S. Lorenzo, and this is, I think, well worth doing 
 early in the morning. Lovers of Hans Andersen go to 
 the Mercato Nuovo to see the famous bronze boar (or 
 "metal pig," as it was called in the translation on which I 
 was brought up) that stands here, on whose back the little 
 street boy had such adventures. The boar himself was the 
 work of Pietro Tacca (1586-1650), a copy from an ancient
 
 318 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE 
 
 marble original, now in the Uffi/i, at the top of the 
 entrance stairs; but the pedestal with its collection of 
 creeping things is modern. The Florentines who stand in 
 the market niches are Bernardo Cennini, a goldsmith and 
 one of Ghiberti's assistants, who introduced printing into 
 Florence in 1471 and began with an edition of Virgil ; Gio- 
 vanni Villani, who was the city's first serious historian, be- 
 ginning in 1300 and continuing till his death in 1348 ; and 
 Michele Lando, the wool-carder, who on July 22nd, 1378, at 
 the head of a mob, overturned the power of the Signory. 
 
 By continuing straight on we should come to that 
 crowded and fussy little street which crosses the river by 
 the Ponte Vecchio and eventually becomes the Roman 
 way ; but let us instead turn to the right this side of the 
 market, down the Via Porta Rossa, because here is the 
 Palazzo Davanzati, which has a profound interest to lovers 
 of the Florentine past in that it has been restored exactly 
 to its ancient state when Pope Eugenius IV lodged here, 
 and has been filled with fourteenth and fifteenth century 
 furniture. In those days it was the home of the Davizza 
 family. The Davanzati bought it late in the sixteenth 
 century and retained it until 1838. In 1904 it was bought 
 by Professor Elia Volpi, who restored its ancient conditions 
 and presented it to the city as a permanent monument of 
 the past. 
 
 Here we see a mediaeval Florentine palace precisely as 
 it was when its Florentine owner lived his uncomfortable 
 life there. For say what one may, there is no question that 
 life must have been uncomfortable. In early and late 
 summer, when the weather was fine and warm, these stone 
 floors and continuous draughts may have been solacing; 
 but in winter and early spring, when Florentine weather 
 can be so bitterly hostile, what then ? That there was a
 
 AN ANCIENT HOME 319 
 
 big fire we know by the smoky condition of Michelozzo's 
 charming frieze on the chimney piece; but the room I 
 refer to that on the first floor is so vast that this fire can 
 have done little for anyone but an immediate vis-ci-vis; 
 and the room, moreover, was between the open world on 
 the one side, and the open court (now roofed in with glass) 
 on the other, with such additional opportunities for draughts 
 as the four trap-doors in the floor offered. It was through 
 these traps that the stone cannon-balls still stacked in the 
 window seats were dropped, or a few gallons of boiling oil 
 poured, whenever the city or a faction of it turned against 
 the householder. Not comfortable, you see, at least not in 
 our northern sense of the word, although to the hardy 
 frugal Florentine it may have seemed a haven of luxury. 
 
 The furniture of the salon is simple and sparse and very 
 hard. A bust here, a picture there, a coloured plate, a 
 crucifix, and a Madonna and Child in a niche : that was 
 all the decoration save tapestry. An hour glass, a pepper 
 mill, a compass, an inkstand, stand for utility, and quaint 
 and twisted musical instruments and a backgammon board 
 for beguilement. 
 
 In the salle-a-manger adjoining is less light, and here 
 also is a symbol of Florentine unrest in the shape of a hole 
 in the wall (beneath the niche which holds the Madonna 
 and Child) through which the advancing foe, who had 
 successfully avoided the cannon-balls and the oil, might be 
 prodded with lances, or even fired at. The next room is 
 the kitchen, curiously far from the well, the opening to 
 which is in the salon, and then a bedroom (with some guns 
 in it) and smaller rooms gained from the central court. 
 
 The rest of the building is the same a series of self- 
 contained flats, but all dipping for water from the same 
 shaft and all depending anxiously upon the success of the
 
 320 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE 
 
 first floor with invaders. At the top is a beautiful loggia 
 with Florence beneath it. 
 
 The odd thing to remember is that for the poor of 
 Florence, who now inhabit houses of the same age as the 
 Davanzati palace, the conditions are almost as they were 
 in the fifteenth century. A few changes have come in, 
 but hardly any. Myriads of the tenements have no water 
 laid on : it must still be pulled up in buckets exactly as 
 here. Indeed you may often see the top floor at work in 
 this way ; and there is a row of houses on the left of the 
 road to the Certosa, a little way out of Florence, with 
 a most elaborate network of bucket ropes over many 
 gardens to one well. Similarly one sees the occupants of 
 the higher floors drawing vegetables and bread in baskets 
 from the street and lowering the money for them. The 
 postman delivers letters in this way, too. Again, one of 
 the survivals of the Davanzati to which the custodian draws 
 attention is the rain-water pipe, like a long bamboo, down 
 the wall of the court ; but one has but to walk along the 
 Via Lambertesca, between the Uffizi and the Via Por S. 
 Maria, and peer into the alleys, to see that these pipes are 
 common enough yet. 
 
 In fact, directly one leaves the big streets Florence is 
 still fifteenth century. Less colour in the costumes, and 
 a few anachronisms, such as gas or electric light, posters, 
 newspapers, cigarettes, and bicycles, which dart like dragon 
 flies (every Florentine cyclist being a trick cyclist) ; but 
 for the rest there is no change. The business of life has 
 not altered ; the same food is eaten, the same vessels con- 
 tain it, the same fire cooks it, the same red wine is made 
 from the same grapes in the same vineyards, the same 
 language (almost) is spoken. The babies are christened 
 at the same font, the parents visit the same churches.
 
 THE PIAZZI DEL LA SIGXORIA ON A WET FRIDAY AFTERNOON
 
 SURVIVALS 321 
 
 Similarly the handicrafts can have altered little. The 
 coppersmith, the blacksmith, the cobbler, the woodcarver, 
 the goldsmiths in their yellow smocks, must be just as they 
 were, and certainly the cellars and caverns under the big 
 houses in which they work have not changed. Where the 
 change is, is among the better to do, the rich, and in the 
 government. For no longer is a man afraid to talk freely 
 of politics; no longer does he shudder as he passes the 
 Bargello; no longer is the name of Medici on his lips. 
 Everything else is practically as it was. 
 
 The Via Porta Rossa runs to the Piazza S. Trinita, the 
 church of S. Trinita being our destination. For here are 
 some interesting frescoes. First, however, let us look at 
 the sculpture: a very beautiful altar by Benedetto da 
 Rovezzano in the fifth chapel of the right aisle ; a monu- 
 ment by Luca della Robbia to one of the archbishops of 
 Fiesole, once in S. Pancrazio (which is now a tobacco factory) 
 in the Via della Spada and brought here for safe keeping 
 a beautiful example of Luca's genius, not only as a modeller 
 but also as a very treasury of pretty thoughts, for the 
 border of flowers and leaves is beyond praise delightful. 
 The best green in Florence (after Nature's, which is seen 
 through so many doorways and which splashes over so 
 many white walls and mingles with gay fruits in so many 
 shops) is here. 
 
 In the fifth chapel of the left aisle is a Magdalen carved 
 in wood by Desiderio da Settignano and finished by Bene- 
 detto da Maiano ; while S. Trinita now possesses, but shows 
 only on Good Friday, the very crucifix from S. Miniato 
 which bowed down and blessed S. Gualberto. The porphyry 
 tombs of the Sassetti, in the chapel of that family, by 
 Giuliano di Sangallo, are magnificent. 
 
 It is in the Sassetti chapel that we find the Ghirlandaio
 
 322 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE 
 
 frescoes of scenes in the life of S. Francis which bring so 
 many strangers to this church. The painting which de- 
 picts S. Francis receiving the charter from the Emperor 
 Honorius is interesting both for its history and its paint- 
 ing ; for it contains a valuable record of what the Palazzo 
 Vecchio and Loggia de' Lanzi were like in 1485, and also 
 many portraits : among them Lorenzo the Magnificent, on 
 the extreme right holding out his hand; Poliziano, tutor 
 of the Medici boys, coming first up the stairs ; and on the 
 extreme left very probably Verrocchio, one of Ghirlandaio's 
 favourite painters. We find old Florence again in the very 
 attractive picture of the resuscitation of the nice little girl 
 in violet, a daughter of the Spini family, who fell from a 
 window of the Spini palace (as we see in the distance on the 
 left, this being one of the old synchronized scenes) and was 
 brought to life by S. Francis, who chanced to be flying by. 
 The scene is intensely local : just outside the church, 
 looking along what is now the Piazza S. Trinita and the 
 old Trinita bridge. The Spini palace is still there, but is 
 now called the Ferroni, and it accommodates no longer 
 Florentine aristocrats but consuls and bank clerks. Among 
 the portraits in the fresco are noble friends of the Spini 
 family Albrizzi, Acciaioli, Strozzi, and so forth. The 
 little girl is very quaint and perfectly ready to take up 
 once more the threads of her life. How long she lived 
 this second time and what became of her I have not been 
 able to discover. Her tiny sister, behind the bier, is even 
 quainter. On the left is a little group of the comely 
 Florentine ladies in whom Ghirlandaio so delighted, tall 
 and serene, with a few youths among them. 
 
 It is interesting to note that Ghirlandaio in his S. Trinita 
 frescoes and Benedetto da Maiano in his S. Croce pulpit 
 reliefs chose exactly the same scenes in the life of S. Francis :
 
 GHIRLANDAIO ONCE MORE 323 
 
 interesting because when Ghirlandaio was painting frescoes 
 at San Gimignano in 1475, Benedetto was at work on the 
 altar for the same church of S. Fina, and they were friends. 
 Where Ghirlandaio and Giotto, also in S. Croce, also co- 
 incide in choice of subject some interesting comparisons 
 may be made, all to the advantage of Giotto in spiritual 
 feeling and unsophisticated charm, but by no means to 
 Ghirlandaio's detriment as a fascinating historian in colour. 
 In the scene of the death of S. Francis we find Ghir- 
 landaio and Giotto again on the same ground, and here it 
 is probable that the later painter went to the earlier for 
 inspiration ; for he has followed Giotto in the fine thought 
 that makes one of the attendant brothers glance up as 
 though at the saint's ascending spirit. It is remarkable 
 how, with every picture that one sees, Giotto's complete- 
 ness of equipment as a religious painter becomes more 
 marked. His hand may have been ignorant of many 
 masterly devices for which the time was not ripe ; but his 
 head and heart knew all. 
 
 The patriarchs in the spandrels of the choir are by Ghir- 
 landaio's master, Alessio Baldovinetti, of whom I said some- 
 thing in the chapter on S. Maria Novella. They once 
 more testify to this painter's charm and brilliance. Almost 
 more than that of any other does one regret the scarcity 
 of his work. It was fitting that he should have painted 
 the choir, for his name-saint, S. Alessio, guards the facade 
 of the church. 
 
 The column opposite the church came from the baths of 
 Caracalla and was set up by Cosimo I, upon the attain- 
 ment of his life-long ambition of a grand-dukeship and a 
 crown. The figure at the top is Justice. 
 
 S. Trinita is a good starting-point for the leisurely ex- 
 amination of the older and narrower streets, an occupation
 
 324 THE PIAZZA VITTORIO EMMANUELE 
 
 which so many visitors to Florence prefer to the study of 
 picture galleries and churches. And perhaps rightly. In 
 no city can they carry on their researches with such ease, 
 for Florence is incurious about them. Either the Floren- 
 tines are too much engrossed in their own affairs or the 
 peering foreigner has become too familiar an object to 
 merit notice, but one may drift about even in the narrowest 
 alleys beside the Arno, east and west, and attract few eyes. 
 And the city here is at its most romantic : between the 
 Piazza S. Trinita and the Via For S. Maria, all about the 
 Borgo SS. Apostoli. 
 
 We have just been discussing Benedetto da Maiano 
 the sculptor. If we turn to the left on leaving S. Trinita, 
 instead of losing ourselves in the little streets, we are in the 
 Via Tornabuoni, where the best shops are and American is 
 the prevailing language. We shall soon come, on the right, 
 to an example of Benedetto's work as an architect, for the 
 first draft of the famous Palazzo Strozzi, the four-square 
 fortress-home which Filippo Strozzi began for himself 
 in 1489, was his. Benedetto continued the work until his 
 death in 1507, when Cronaca, who built the great hall in 
 the Palazzo Vecchio, took it over and added the famous cor- 
 nice. The iron lantern and other smith work were by Lo- 
 renzo the Magnificent's sardonic friend, " II Caparro,"of the 
 Sign of the Burning Books, of whom I wrote in the chapter 
 on the Medici palace. 
 
 The first mistress of the Strozzi palace was Clarice 
 Strozzi, nee Clarice de' Medici, the daughter of Piero, son 
 of Lorenzo the Magnificent. She was born in 1493 and 
 married Filippo Strozzi the younger in 1508, during the 
 family's second period of exile. They then lived at Rome, 
 but were allowed to return to Florence in 1510. Clarice's 
 chief title to fame is her proud outburst when she turned
 
 THE STROZZI 325 
 
 Ippolito and Alessandro out of the Medici palace. She 
 died in 1528 and was buried in S. Maria Novella. The 
 unfortunate Filippo met his end nine years later in the 
 Boboli fortezza, which his money had helped to build and 
 in which he was imprisoned for his share in a conspiracy 
 against Cosimo I. Cosimo confiscated the palace and all 
 Strozzi's other possessions, but later made some restitution. 
 To-day the family occupy the upper part of their famous 
 imperishable home, and beneath there is an exhibition of 
 pictures and antiquities for sale. No private individual, 
 whatever his wealth or ambition, will probably ever again 
 succeed in building a house half so strong or noble as this.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE PITTI 
 
 Luca Pitti's pride Preliminary caution A terrace view A collec- 
 tion but not a gallery The personally-conducted Giorgione the su- 
 perb Sustermans The "Madonna del Granduca" The "Madonna 
 della Sedia" From Cimabue to Raphael Andrea del Sarto Two 
 Popes and a bastard The ill-fated Ippolito The National Gallery 
 Royal apartments " Pallas subduing the Centaur " The Boboli 
 
 Gardens. 
 
 Pitti approached from the Via Guicciardini is far 
 -- liker a prison than a palace. It was commissioned 
 by Luca Pitti, one of the proudest and richest of the 
 rivals of the Medici, in 1441. Cosimo de' Medici, as we 
 have seen, had rejected Brunelleschi's plans for a palazzo 
 as being too pretentious and gone instead to his friend 
 Michelozzo for something that externally at any rate was 
 more modest; Pitti, whose one ambition was to exceed 
 Cosimo in power, popularity, and visible wealth , deliber- 
 ately chose Brunelleschi, and gave him carte blanche 
 to make the most magnificent mansion possible. Pitti, 
 however, plotting against Cosimo's son Piero, was frustrated 
 and condemned to death; and although Piero obtained 
 his pardon he lost all his friends and passed into utter dis- 
 respect in the city. Meanwhile his palace remained un- 
 finished and neglected, and continued so for a century, 
 when it was acquired by the Grand Duchess Eleanor of 
 Toledo, the wife of Cosimo I, who though she saw only 
 the beginnings of its splendours lived there awhile and there
 
 THE PITTI 327 
 
 brought up her doomed brood. Eleanor's architect or 
 rather Cosimo's, for though the Grand Duchess paid, the 
 Grand Duke controlled was Ammanati, the designer of 
 the Neptune fountain in the Piazza della Signoria. Other 
 important additions were made later. The last Medicean 
 Grand Duke to occupy the Pitti was Gian Gastone, a 
 bizarre detrimental, whose head, in a monstrous wig, 
 may be seen at the top of the stairs leading to the Uffizi 
 gallery. He died in 1737. 
 
 As I have said in Chapter VIII, it was by the will of 
 Gian Gastone's sister, widow of the Elector Palatine, who 
 died in 1743, that the Medicean collections became the 
 property of the Florentines. This bequest did not, how- 
 ever, prevent the migration of many of the best pictures 
 to Paris under Napoleon, but after Waterloo they came 
 back. The Pitti continued to be the home of princes 
 after Gian Gastone quitted a world which he found strange 
 and made more so ; but they were not of the Medici blood. 
 It is now a residence of the royal family. 
 
 The first thing to do if by evil chance one enters the 
 Pitti by the covered way from the Uffizi is, just before 
 emerging into the palace, to avoid the room where copies 
 of pictures are sold, for not only is it a very catacomb of 
 headache, from the fresh paint, but the copies are in them- 
 selves horrible and lead to disquieting reflections on the 
 subject of sweated labour. The next thing to do, on at 
 last emerging, is to walk out on the roof from the little 
 room at the top of the stairs, and get a supply of fresh air 
 for the gallery, and see Florence, which is very beautiful 
 from here. Looking over the city one notices that the 
 tower of the Palazzo Vecchio is almost more dominating 
 than the Duomo, the work of the same architect who 
 began this palace. Between the two is Fiesole. The
 
 328 THE PITTI 
 
 Signoria tower is, as I say, the highest. Then the Duomo. 
 Then Giotto's Campanile. The Bargello is hidden, but 
 the graceful Badia tower is seen; also the little white 
 Baptistery roof with its lantern just showing. From the 
 fortezza come the sounds of drums and bugles. 
 
 Returning from this terrace we skirt a vast porphyry 
 basin and reach the top landing of the stairs (which was, I 
 presume, once a loggia) where there is a very charming 
 marble fountain; and from this we enter the first room 
 of the gallery. The Pitti walls are so congested and so 
 many of the pictures so difficult to see, that I propose to 
 refer only to those which, after a series of visits, seem to 
 me the absolute best. Let me hasten to say that to visit 
 the Pitti gallery on any but a really bright day is folly. 
 The great windows (which were to be larger than Cosimo 
 de' Medici's doors) are excellent to look out of, but the 
 rooms are so crowded with paintings on walls and ceilings, 
 and the curtains are so absorbent of light, that unless there 
 is sunshine one gropes in gloom. The only pictures in 
 short that are properly visible are those on screens or 
 hinges ; and these are, fortunately almost without exception, 
 the best. The Pitti rooms were never made for pictures at 
 all, and it is really absurd that so many beautiful things 
 should be massed here without reasonable lighting. 
 
 The Pitti also is always crowded. The Uffizi is never 
 crowded ; the Accademia is always comfortable ; the Bar- 
 gello is sparsely attended. But the Pitti is normally con- 
 gested, not only by individuals but by flocks, whose guides, 
 speaking broken English, and sometimes broken American, 
 lead from room to room. I need hardly say that they 
 form the tightest knots before the works of Raphael. All 
 this is proper enough, of course, but it serves to render the 
 Pitti a difficult gallery rightly to study pictures in.
 
 THE MADONNA DELLA SEDIA (OF THE CHAIR) 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY RAPHAEL IN THE PITT!
 
 GIORGIONE 329 
 
 In the first chapter on the Uffizi I have said how simple 
 it is, in the Pitti, to name the best picture of all, and how 
 difficult in most galleries. But the Pitti has one particular 
 jewel which throws everything into the background : the 
 work not of a Florentine but of a Venetian : " The Con- 
 cert" of Giorgione, which stands on an easel in the Sala di 
 Marte. 1 It is true that modern criticism has doubted the 
 rightness of the ascription, and many critics, whose one idea 
 seems to be to deprive Giorgione of any pictures at all, 
 leaving him but a glorious name without anything to 
 account for it, call it an early Titian; but this need not 
 trouble us. There the picture is, and never do I think to 
 see anything more satisfying. Piece by piece, it is not 
 more than fine rich painting, but as a whole it is im- 
 pressive and mysterious and enchanting. Pater compares 
 the effect of it to music ; and he is right. 
 
 The Sala dell' Iliade (the name of each room refers 
 always to the ceiling painting, which, however, one quite 
 easily forgets to look at) is chiefly notable for the Raphael 
 just inside the door : " La Donna Gravida," No. 229, one 
 of his more realistic works, with bolder colour than usual 
 and harder treatment ; rather like the picture that has 
 been made its pendant, No. 224, an " Incognita" by Ridolfo 
 Ghirlandaio, very firmly painted, but harder still. Between 
 them is the first of the many Pitti Andrea del Sartos : No. 
 225, an "Assumption of the Madonna," opposite a similar 
 work from the same brush, neither containing quite the 
 finest traits of this artist. But the youth with out- 
 stretched hand at the tomb is nobly done. No. 265, " Prin- 
 cipe Mathias de' Medici," is a good bold Sustermans, but 
 No. 190, on the opposite wall, is a far better a most charm- 
 
 1 The position of easel pictures in the Florentine galleries often 
 changes.
 
 330 THE PITTI 
 
 ing work representing the Crown Prince of Denmark, son of 
 Frederick III. Justus Sustermans, who has so many por- 
 traits here and elsewhere in Florence, was a Belgian, born 
 in 1597, who settled in Florence as a portrait painter to 
 Cosimo III. Van Dyck greatly admired his work and 
 painted him. He died at Florence in 1681. 
 
 No. 208, a "Virgin Enthroned," by Fra Bartolommeo, is 
 from S. Marco, and it had better have been painted on the 
 wall there, like the Fra Angelicos, and then the convent 
 would have it still. The Child is very attractive, as almost 
 always in this artist's work, but the picture as a whole has 
 grown rather dingy. By the window is a Velasquez, the 
 first we have seen in Florence, a little Philip IV on his 
 prancing steed, rather too small for its subject, but very 
 interesting here among the Italians. 
 
 In the next large room the Sala di Saturno we come 
 again to Raphael, who is indeed the chief master of the 
 Pitti, his exquisite "Madonna del Granduca" being just 
 to the left of the door. Here we have the simplest colour- 
 ing and perfect sweetness, and such serenity of mastery as 
 must be the despair of the copyists, who, however, never 
 cease attempting it. The only defect is a little clumsiness in 
 the Madonna's hand. The picture was lost for two centuries 
 and it then changed owners for twelve crowns, the seller 
 being a poor woman and the buyer a bookseller. The 
 bookseller found a ready purchaser in the director of the 
 Grand Duke Ferdinand Ill's gallery, and the Grand Duke 
 so esteemed it that he carried it with him on all his jour- 
 neys, just as Sir George Beaumont, the English con- 
 noisseur, never travelled without a favourite Claude. 
 Hence its name. Another Andrea del Sarto, the " Disputa 
 sulla Trinita," No. 172, is close by, nobly drawn but again 
 not of his absolute best, and then five more Raphaels or
 
 RAPHAEL 331 
 
 putative Raphaels No. 171, Tommaso Inghirami; No. 
 61, Angelo Doni, the collector and the friend of artists, for 
 whom Michelangelo painted his "Holy Family" in the 
 Uffizi ; No. 59, Maddalena Doni ; and above all No. 174, 
 "The Vision of Ezekiel," that little great picture, so strong 
 and spirited, and to coin a word Sixtinish. All these, I 
 may say, are questioned by experts ; but some very fine hand 
 is to be seen in them any way. Over the " Ezekiel " is still 
 another, No. 165, the " Madonna detta del Baldacchino," 
 which is so much better in the photographs. Next this 
 group No. 164 we find Raphael's friend Perugino with 
 an Entombment, but it lacks his divine glow ; and above it 
 a soft and mellow and easy Andrea del Sarto, No. 163, 
 which ought to be in a church rather than here. A better 
 Perugino is No. 42, which has all his sweetness, but to call 
 it the Magdalen is surely wrong ; and close by it a rather 
 formal Fra Bartolommeo, No. 159, " Gesu Resuscitate," 
 from the church of SS. Annunziata, in which once again the 
 babies who hold the circular landscape are the best part. 
 After another doubtful Raphael the sly Cardinal Divizio 
 da Bibbiena, No. 158 let us look at an unquestioned one, 
 No. 151, the most popular picture in Florence, if not the 
 whole world, Raphael's " Madonna della Sedia," that 
 beautiful rich scene of maternal tenderness and infantine 
 peace. Personally I do not find myself often under Ra- 
 phael's spell ; but here he conquers. The Madonna again 
 is without enough expression, but her arms are right, and 
 the Child is right, and the colour is so rich, almost Venetian 
 in that odd way in which Raphael now and then could 
 suggest Venice. 
 
 It is interesting to compare Raphael's two famous 
 Madonnas in this room : this one belonging to his Roman 
 period and the other, opposite it, to Florence, with the
 
 332 THE PITTI 
 
 differences so marked. For by the time he painted this 
 he knew more of life and human affection. This picture, 
 I suppose, might be called the consummation of Renaissance 
 painting in fullest bloom : the latest triumph of that im- 
 pulse. I do not say it is the best ; but it may be called 
 a crown on the whole movement both in subject and treat- 
 ment. Think of the gulf between the Cimabue Madonna 
 and the Giotto Madonna, side by side, which we saw in 
 the Accademia, and this. With so many vivid sympathies 
 Giotto must have wanted with all his soul to make the 
 mother motherly and the child childlike; but the time 
 was not yet ; his hand was neither free nor fit. Between 
 Giotto and Raphael had to come many things before such 
 treatment as this was possible ; most of all, I think, Luca 
 della Robbia had to come between, for he was the most 
 valuable reconciler of God and man of them all. He was 
 the first to bring a tender humanity into the Church, the 
 first to know that a mother's fingers, holding a baby, sink 
 into its soft little body. Without Luca I doubt if the 
 "Madonna della Sedia" could be the idyll of protective 
 solicitude and loving pride that it is. 
 
 The Sala di Giove brings us to Venetian painting indeed, 
 and glorious painting too, for next the door if. Titian's 
 "Bella," No. 18, the lady in the peacock-blue dress with 
 purple sleeves, all richly embroidered in gold, whom to see 
 once is to remember for ever. On the other side of the 
 door is Andrea's brilliant "S. John the Baptist as a Boy," 
 No. 272, and then the noblest Fra Bartolommeo here, a 
 Deposition, No. 64, not good in colour, but superbly 
 drawn and pitiful. In this room also is the monk's 
 great spirited figure of S. Marco, for the convent of that 
 name. Between them is a Tintoretto, No. 131, Vin- 
 cenzo Zeino, one of his ruddy old men, with a glimpse of
 
 TWO OLD MEN 333 
 
 Venice, under an angry sky, through the window. Over 
 the door, No. 124, is an Annunciation by Andrea, with a 
 slight variation in it, for two angels accompany that one 
 who brings the news, and the announcement is made from 
 the right instead of the left, while the incident is being 
 watched by some people on the terrace over a classical por- 
 tico. A greater Andrea hangs next : No.123, the Madonna 
 in Glory, fine but rather formal, and, like all Andrea's 
 work, hall-marked by its woman type. The other notable 
 pictures are Raphael's Fornarina, No. 245, which is far more 
 Venetian than the "Madonna della Sedia," and has been 
 given to Sebastian del Piombo ; and the Venetian group on 
 the right of the door, which is not only interesting for its 
 own charm but as being a foretaste of the superb and glori- 
 ous Giorgione in the Sala di Marte, which we now enter. 
 Here we find a Rembrandt, No. 16, an old man: age 
 and dignity emerging golden from the gloom; and as a 
 pendant a portrait, with somewhat similar characteristics, 
 but softer, by Tintoretto, No. 83. Between them is a 
 prosperous, ruddy group of scholars by Rubens, who has 
 placed a vase of tulips before the bust of Seneca. And we 
 find Rubens again with a sprawling, brilliant feat entitled 
 "The Consequences of War," but what those conse- 
 quences are, beyond nakedness, one has difficulty in dis- 
 cerning. Raphael's Holy Family, No. 94 (also known as 
 the "Madonna dell' Impannata"), next it might be called 
 the perfection of drawing without feeling. The author- 
 ities consider it a school piece: that is to say, chiefly 
 the work of his imitators. The vivacity of the Child's face 
 is very remarkable. The best Andrea is in this room 
 a Holy Family, No. 81, which gets sweeter and simpler 
 and richer with every glance. Other Andreas are here too, 
 notably on the right of the further door a sweet mother
 
 334 THE PITTI 
 
 and sprawling, vigorous Child. But every Andrea that I 
 see makes me think more highly of the "Madonna della 
 Sacco," in the cloisters of SS. Annunziata. Van Dyck, 
 who painted much in Italy before settling down at the Eng- 
 lish court, we find in this room with a masterly full-length 
 seated portrait of an astute cardinal. But the room's 
 greatest glory, as I have said, is the Giorgione on the easel. 
 
 In the Sala di Apollo, at the right of the door as we 
 enter, is Andrea's portrait of himself, a serious and mysteri- 
 ous face shining out of darkness, and below it is Titian's 
 golden Magdalen, No. 67, the same ripe creature that we 
 saw at the Uffizi posing as Flora, again diffusing Venetian 
 light. On the other side of the door we find, for the first 
 time in Florence, Murillo, who has two groups of the 
 Madonna and Child on this wall, the better being No. 63, 
 which is both sweet and masterly. In No. 56 the Child be- 
 comes a pretty Spanish boy playing with a rosary, and in 
 both He has a faint nimbus instead of the halo to which 
 we are accustomed. On the same wall is another fine 
 Andrea, who is most lavishly represented in this gallery, 
 No. 58, a Deposition, all gentle melancholy rather than 
 grief. The kneeling girl is very beautiful. 
 
 Finally there are Van Dyck's very charming portrait of 
 Charles I of England and Henrietta, a most deft and dis- 
 tinguished work, and Raphael's famous portrait of Leo X 
 with two companions : rather dingy, and too like three 
 persons set for the camera, but powerful and deeply interest- 
 ing to us, because here we see the first Medici pope, Leo X, 
 Lorenzo de' Medici's son Giovanni, who gave Michelangelo 
 the commission for the Medici tombs and the new Sacristy 
 of S. Lorenzo ; and in the young man on the Pope's right 
 hand we see none other than Giulio, natural son of 
 Giuliano de' Medici, Lorenzo's brother, who afterwards
 
 THE CONCERT 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY GIORGIONE IN THE PITH
 
 A PERFECT COPY 335 
 
 became Pope as Clement VII. It was he who laid siege 
 to Florence when Michelangelo was called upon to fortify 
 it; and it was during his pontificate that Henry VIII 
 threw off the shackles of Rome and became the Defender 
 of the Faith. Himself a bastard, Giulio became the father 
 of the base-born Alessandro of Urbino, first Duke of 
 Florence, who, after procuring the death of Ippolito and 
 living a life of horrible excess, was himself murdered by his 
 cousin Lorenzino in order to rid Florence of her worst 
 tyrant. In his portrait Leo X has an illuminated missal 
 and a magnifying glass, as indication of his scholarly tastes. 
 That he was also a good liver his form and features testify. 
 
 Of this picture an interesting story is told. After the 
 battle of Pa via, in 1525, Clement VII wishing to be friendly 
 with the Marquis of Gonzaga, a powerful ally of the 
 Emperor Charles V, asked him what he could do for him, 
 and Gonzaga expressed a wish for the portrait of Leo X, 
 then in the Medici palace. Clement complied, but wishing 
 to retain at any rate a semblance of the original, directed 
 that the picture should be copied, and Andrea del Sarto 
 was chosen for that task. The copy turned out to be so 
 close that Gonzaga never obtained the original at all. 
 
 In the next room the Sala di Venere, and the last room 
 in the long suite we find another Raphael portrait, and 
 another Pope, this time Julius II, that Pontiff whose 
 caprice and pride together rendered null and void and un- 
 happy so many years of Michelangelo's life, since it was for 
 him that the great Julian tomb, never completed, was 
 designed. A replica of this picture is in our National 
 Gallery. Here also are a wistful and poignant John the 
 Baptist by Dossi, No. 380 ; two Diirers an Adam and an 
 Eve, very naked and primitive, facing each other from 
 opposite walls; and two Rubens landscapes not equal to
 
 336 THE PITTI 
 
 ours at Trafalgar Square, but spacious and lively. The 
 gem of the room is a lovely Titian, No. 92, on an easel, a 
 golden work of supreme quietude and disguised power. 
 The portrait is called sometimes the Duke of Norfolk, 
 sometimes the "Young Englishman." 
 
 Returning to the first room the Salaof the Iliad we 
 enter the Sala dell' Educazione di Giove, and find on the 
 left a little gipsy portrait by Boccaccio Boccaccino (1497- 
 1518) which has extraordinary charm : a grave, wistful, 
 childish face in a blue handkerchief : quite a new kind of 
 picture here. I reproduce it in this volume, but it wants 
 its colour. For the rest, the room belongs to less-known 
 and later men, in particular to Cristofano Allori (1577- 
 1621), with his famous Judith, reproduced in all the picture 
 shops of Florence. This work is no favourite of mine, but 
 one cannot deny it power and richness. The Guido Reni 
 opposite, in which an affected fat actress poses as Cleopatra 
 with the asp, is not, however, even tolerable. 
 
 We next pass, after a glance perhaps at the adjoining 
 tapestry room on the left (where the bronze Cain and 
 Abel are) the most elegant bathroom imaginable, fit for 
 anything rather than soap and splashes, and come to the 
 Sala di Ulisse and some good Venetian portraits : a bearded 
 senator in a sable robe by Paolo Veronese, No. 216, and, 
 No. 201, Titian's fine portrait of the ill-fated Ippolito de' 
 Medici, son of that Giuliano de' Medici, Due de Nemours, 
 whose tomb by Michelangelo is at S. Lorenzo. This 
 amiable young man was brought up by Leo X until the 
 age of twelve, when the Pope died, and the boy was sent to 
 Florence to live at the Medici palace, with the base-born 
 Alessandro, under the care of Cardinal Passerini, where he 
 remained until Clarice de' Strozzi ordered both the boys to 
 quit. In 1527 came the third expulsion of the Medici
 
 IPPOLITO DE' MEDICI 337 
 
 from Florence, and Ippolito wandered about until Clement 
 VII, the second Medici Pope, was in Rome, after the sack, 
 and, joining him there, he was, against his will, made a 
 cardinal, and sent to Hungary: Clement's idea being to 
 establish Alessandro (his natural son) as Duke of Florence, 
 and squeeze Ippolito, the rightful heir, out. This, Clement 
 succeeded in doing, and the repulsive and squalid-minded 
 Alessandro known as the Mule was installed. Ippolito, 
 in whom this proceeding caused deep grief, settled in 
 Bologna and took to scholarship, among other tasks trans- 
 lating part of the ^Eneid into Italian blank verse; but 
 when Clement died and thus liberated Rome from a vile 
 tyranny, he was with him and protected his corpse from 
 the angry mob. That was in 1534, when Ippolito was 
 twenty-seven. In the following year a number of exiles 
 from Florence who could not endure Alessandro's offensive 
 ways, or had been forced by him to fly, decided to appeal 
 to the Emperor Charles V for assistance against such a 
 contemptible ruler ; and Ippolito headed the mission ; but 
 before he could reach the Emperor an emissary of Ales- 
 sandro's succeeded in poisoning him. Such was Ippolito 
 de' Medici, grandson of the great Lorenzo, whom Titian 
 painted, probably when he was in Bologna, in 1533 or 1534. 
 
 This room also contains a nice little open decorative 
 scene like a sketch for a fresco of the Death of Lucrezia, 
 No. 388, attributed to the School of Botticelli, and above it 
 a good Royal Academy Andrea del Sarto. 
 
 The next is the best of these small rooms the Sala of 
 Prometheus where on Sundays most people spend their 
 time in astonishment over the inlaid tables, but where 
 Tuscan art also is very beautiful. The most famous picture 
 is, I suppose, the circular Filippino Lippi, No. 343, but 
 although the lively background is very entertaining and
 
 338 THE PITTI 
 
 the Virgin most wonderfully painted, the Child is a serious 
 blemish . The next favourite, if not the first, is the Perugino 
 on the easel No. 219 one of his loveliest small pictures, 
 with an evening glow among the Apennines such as no 
 other painter could capture. Other fine works here are 
 the Fra Bartolommeo, No. 256, over the door, a Holy 
 Family, very pretty and characteristic, and his "Ecce 
 Homo," next it ; the adorable circular Botticini (as the cata- 
 logue calls it, although the photographers waver between 
 Botticelli and Filippino Lippi), No. 347, with its myriad 
 roses and children with their little folded hands and the 
 Mother and Child diffusing happy sweetness, which, if 
 only it were a little less painty, would be one of the chief 
 magnets of the gallery. 
 
 Hereabout are many Botticelli school pictures, chief of 
 these the curious girl, called foolishly "La Bella Simonetta," 
 which Mr. Berenson attributes to that unknown disciple 
 of Botticelli to whom he has given the charming name 
 of Amico di Sandro. This study in browns, yellow, and 
 grey always has its public. Other popular Botticelli de- 
 rivatives are Nos. 348 and 357. Look also at the sly and 
 curious woman, No. 102, near the window, by Ubertini, 
 a new artist here ; and the pretty Jacopo del Sellaio, No. 
 364 ; a finely drawn S. Sebastian by Pollaiuolo ; the Holy 
 Family by Jacopo di Boateri, No. 362, with very pleasant 
 colouring; No. 140, the "Incognita," which people used 
 to think was by Leonardo for some reason difficult to 
 understand except on the principle of making the wish 
 father to the thought and is now given to Bugiar- 
 dini ; and lastly a rich and comely example of Lombardy 
 art, No. 299. 
 
 From this room we will enter first the Corridio delle 
 Colonne where Cardinal Leopoldo de' Medici's miniature
 
 BRONZING 339 
 
 portraits are hung, all remarkable and some superb, but 
 unfortunately not named, together with a few larger works, 
 all very interesting. That Young Goldsmith, No. 207, 
 which used to be given to Leonardo but is now Ridolfo 
 Ghirlandaio's, is here ; a Franciabigio, No. 43 ; a questioned 
 Raphael, No. 44 ; a fine and sensitive head of one of the 
 Gonzaga family by Mantegna, No. 375 ; the coarse head of 
 Giovanni Bentivoglio by da Costa, No. 376 ; and a Pol- 
 laiuolo, No. 370, S. Jerome, whose fine rapt countenance is 
 beautifully drawn. 
 
 In the Sala della Giustizia we come again to the Vene- 
 tians : a noble Piombo, No. 409 ; the fine Aretino and 
 Tommaso Mosti by Titian ; Tintoretto's portrait of a man, 
 No. 410 ; and two good Moronis. But I am not sure that 
 Dosso Dossi's "Nymph and Satyr" on the easel is not the 
 most remarkable achievement here. I do not, however, 
 care greatly for it. 
 
 In the Sala di Flora we find some interesting Andreas ; 
 a beautiful portrait by Puligo, No. 184; and Giulio 
 Romano's famous frieze of dancers. Also a fine portrait 
 by Allori, No. 72. The end room of all is notable for a 
 Ruysdael. 
 
 Finally there is the Sala del Poccetti, out of the Sala di 
 Prometeo, which, together with the preceding two rooms 
 that I have described, has lately been rearranged. Here 
 now is the hard but masterly Holy Family of Bronzino, 
 who has an enormous amount of work in Florence, chiefly 
 Medicean portraits, but nowhere, I think, reaches the level 
 of his "Allegory" in our National Gallery, or the portrait 
 in the Taylor collection sold at Christie's in 1912. Here 
 also are four rich Poussins ; two typical Salvator Rosa land- 
 scapes and a battle piece from the same hand ; and, by 
 some strange chance, a portrait of Oliver Cromwell by
 
 340 THE PITTI 
 
 Sir Peter Lely. But the stone table again wins most 
 attention. 
 
 And here, as we leave the last of the great picture col- 
 lections of Florence, I would say how interesting it is to the 
 returned visitor to London to go quickly to the National 
 Gallery and see how we compare with them. Florence is 
 naturally far richer than we, but although only now and 
 then have we the advantage, we can valuably supplement 
 in a great many cases. And the National Gallery keeps 
 up its quality throughout it does not suddenly fall to 
 pieces as the Uffizi does. Thus, I doubt if Florence with 
 all her Andreas has so exquisite a thing from his hand as 
 our portrait of a "Young Sculptor," so long called a por- 
 trait of the painter himself ; and we have two Michelangelo 
 paintings to the Uffizi's one. In Leonardo the Louvre is 
 of course far richer, even without the Gioconda, but we 
 have at Burlington House the cartoon for the Louvre's 
 S. Anne which may pair off with the Uffizi's unfinished 
 Madonna, and we have also at the National Gallery his 
 finished "Virgin of the Rocks," while to Burlington House 
 one must go too for Michelangelo's beautiful tondo. In 
 Piero di Cosimo we are more fortunate than the Uffizi ; and 
 we have Raphaels as important as those of the Pitti. We 
 are strong too in Perugino, Filippino Lippi, and Luca 
 Signorelli, while when it comes to Piero della Francesca we 
 lead absolutely. Our Verrocchio, or School of Verrocchio, 
 is a superb thing, while our Cimabue (from S. Croce) has a 
 quality of richness not excelled by any that I have seen 
 elsewhere. But in Botticelli Florence wins. 
 
 The Pitti palace contains also the apartments in which 
 the King and Queen of Italy reside when they visit Florence, 
 which is not often. Florence became the capital of Italy 
 in 1865, on the day of the sixth anniversary of the birth
 
 MADONNA ADORING 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY BOTTICINI IN THE PITTI
 
 THE "PALLAS" 341 
 
 of Dante. It remained the capital until 1870, when 
 Rome was chosen. The rooms are shown thrice a week, 
 and are not, I think, worth the time that one must give to 
 the perambulation. Beyond this there is nothing to say, 
 except that they would delight children. Visitors are 
 hurried through in small bands, and dallying is discouraged. 
 Hence one is merely tantalized by the presence of their 
 greatest treasure, Botticelli's " Pallas subduing the Cen- 
 taur," painted to commemorate Lorenzo de' Medici's suc- 
 cessful diplomatic mission to the King of Naples in 1480, 
 to bring about the end of the war with Sixtus IV, the 
 prime instigator of the Pazzi Conspiracy and the bitter 
 enemy of Lorenzo in particular whose only fault, as he 
 drily expressed it, had been to "escape being murdered in 
 the Cathedral " and of all Tuscany in general. Botticelli, 
 whom we have already seen as a Medicean allegorist, 
 always ready with his glancing genius to extol and com- 
 mend the virtues of that family, here makes the centaur 
 typify war and oppression while the beautiful figure which 
 is taming and subduing him by reason represents Pallas, or 
 the arts of peace, here identifiable with Lorenzo by the 
 laurel wreath and the pattern of her robe, which is com- 
 posed of his private crest of diamond rings intertwined. 
 This exquisite picture so rich in colour and of such power 
 and impressiveness ought to be removed to an easel in 
 the Pitti Gallery proper. The "Madonna della Rosa," 
 by Botticelli or his School, is also here, and I had a mo- 
 ment before a very alluring Holbein. But my memory 
 of this part of the palace is made up of gilt and tinsel and 
 plush and candelabra, with two pieces of furniture out- 
 standing a blue and silver bed, and a dining table rather 
 larger than a lawn- tennis court. 
 
 The Boboli gardens, which climb the hill from the Pitti,
 
 342 THE PITTI 
 
 are also opened only on three afternoons a week. The 
 panorama of Florence and the surrounding Apennines 
 which one has from the Belvedere makes a visit worth 
 while; but the gardens themselves are, from the English 
 point of view, poor, save in extent and in the groves on the 
 way to the stables (scuderie). Like all gardens where 
 clipped walks are the principal feature, they want people. 
 They were made for people to enjoy them, rather than for 
 flowers to grow in, and at every turn there is a new and 
 charming vista in a green frame. 
 
 It was from the Boboli hill-side before it was a garden 
 that much of the stone of Florence was quarried. With 
 such stones so near it is less to be wondered at that the 
 buildings are what they are. And yet it is wonderful too 
 that these little inland Italian citizens should so have 
 built their houses for all time. It proves them to have 
 had great gifts of character. There is no such building 
 any more. 
 
 The Grotto close to the Pitti entrance, which contains 
 some of Michelangelo's less remarkable "Prisoners," in- 
 tended for the great Julian tomb, is so " grottesque " that the 
 statues are almost lost, and altogether it is rather an 
 Old Rye House affair ; and though Giovanni da Bologna's 
 fountain in the midst of a lake is very fine, I doubt if the 
 walk is quite worth it. My advice rather is to climb at 
 once to the top, at the back of the Pitti, by way of the 
 amphitheatre where the gentlemen and ladies used to watch 
 court pageants, and past that ingenious fountain above it, 
 in which Neptune's trident itself spouts water, and rest 
 in the pretty flower garden on the very summit of the hill, 
 among the lizards. There, seated on the wall, you may 
 watch the peasants at work in the vineyards, and the white 
 oxen ploughing in the olive groves, in the valley between
 
 AUTUMNAL SOUNDS 343 
 
 this hill and S. Miniato. In spring the contrast beween 
 the greens of the crops and the silver grey of the olives is 
 vivid and gladsome ; in September, one may see the grapes 
 being picked and piled into the barrels, immediately below, 
 and hear the squdge as the wooden pestle is driven into 
 the purple mass and the juice gushes out.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 ENGLISH POETS IN FLORENCE 
 
 Casa Guidi The Brownings Giotto's missing spire James Rus- 
 sell Lowell Lander's early life Fra Bartolommeo before Raphael 
 The Tuscan gardener The " Villa Landor " to-day Storms on the hill- 
 side Pastoral poetry Italian memories in England The final out- 
 burst Last days in Florence The old lion's beguilements The 
 famous epitaph. 
 
 ON a house in the Piazza S. Felice, obliquely facing the 
 Pitti, with windows both in the Via Maggio and 
 Via Mazzetta, is a tablet, placed there by grateful Florence, 
 stating that it was the home of Robert and of Elizabeth 
 Barrett Browning, and that her verse made a golden ring 
 to link England to Italy. In other words, this is Casa 
 Guidi. 
 
 A third member of the family, Flush the spaniel, was 
 also with them, and they moved here in 1848, and it was 
 here that Mrs. Browning died, in 1861. But it was not 
 their first Florentine home, for in 1847 they had gone 
 into rooms in the Via delle Belle Donne the Street of 
 Beautiful Ladies, whose name so fascinated Ruskin near 
 S. Maria Novella. At Casa Guidi Browning wrote, among 
 other poems, "Christmas Eve and Easter Day," "The 
 Statue and the Bust" of which I have said something in 
 Chapter XIX, and the "Old Pictures in Florence," that 
 philosophic commentary on Vasari, which ends with the 
 
 344
 
 CASA GUIDI 345 
 
 spirited appeal for the crowning of Giotto's Campanile with 
 the addition of the golden spire that its builder intended 
 
 Fine as the beak of a young beccaccia 
 The campanile, the Duomo's fit ally, 
 
 Shall soar up in gold full fifty braccia, 
 Completing Florence, as Florence Italy. 
 
 But I suppose that the monologues "Andrea del Sarto" 
 and "Fra Lippo Lippi" would be considered the finest 
 fruit of Browning's Florentine sojourn, as "Casa Guidi 
 Windows" is of Mrs. Browning's. Her great poem is in- 
 deed as passionate a plea for Italian liberty as anything 
 by an Italian poet. Here also she wrote much if not all 
 of "Aurora Leigh," "The Poems before Congress," and 
 those other Italian political pieces which when her husband 
 collected them as "Last Poems" he dedicated "to 'grate- 
 ful Florence.'" 
 
 In these Casa Guidi rooms the happiest days of both 
 lives were spent, and many a time have the walls resounded 
 to the great voice, laughing, praising or condemning, of 
 Walter Savage Landor; while the shy Hawthorne has 
 talked here too. Casa Guidi lodged not only the Brown- 
 ings, but, at one time, Lowell, who was not, however, a 
 very good Florentine. "As for pictures," I find him writ- 
 ing, in 1874, on a later visit, "I am tired to death of 'em, 
 . . . and then most of them are so bad. I like best the 
 earlier ones, that say so much in their half-unconscious 
 prattle, and talk nature to me instead of high art." But, 
 "the older streets," he says, "have a noble mediaeval 
 distance and reserve for me a frown I was going to call it, 
 not of hostility, but of haughty doubt. These grim palace 
 fronts meet you with an aristocratic start that puts you to 
 the proof of your credentials. There is to me something 
 wholesome in that that makes you feel your place."
 
 346 ENGLISH POETS IN FLORENCE 
 
 The Brownings are the two English poets who first 
 spring to mind in connexion with Florence ; but they had 
 had very illustrious predecessors. In August and Septem- 
 ber, 1638, during the reign of Ferdinand II, John Milton 
 was here, and again in the spring of 1639. He read Latin 
 poems to fellow scholars in the city and received compli- 
 mentary sonnets in reply. Here he met Galileo, and from 
 here he made the excursion to Vallombrosa, which gave 
 him some of his most famous lines. He also learned enough 
 of the language to write love poetry to a lady in Bologna, 
 although he is said to have offended Italians generally by 
 his strict morality. 
 
 Skipping a hundred and eighty years we find Shelley in 
 Florence, in 1819, and it was here that his son was born, 
 receiving the names Percy Florence. Here he wrote, as I 
 have said, his "Ode to the West Wind " and that grimly 
 comic work "Peter Bell the Third." 
 
 But next the Brownings it is Walter Savage Landor of 
 whom I always think as the greatest English Florentine. 
 Florence became his second home when he was middle-aged 
 and strong ; and then again, when he was a very old man, 
 shipwrecked by his impulsive and impossible temper, it 
 became his last haven. It was Browning who found him 
 his final resting-place a floor of rooms not far from where 
 we now stand, in the Via Nunziatina. 
 
 Florence is so intimately associated with Landor, and 
 Landor was so happy in Florence, that a brief outline of 
 his life seems to be imperative. Born in 1775, the heir to 
 considerable estates, the boy soon developed that whirl- 
 wind headstrong impatience which was to make him as 
 notorious as his exquisite genius has made him famous. 
 He was sent to Rugby, but disapproving of the headmaster's 
 judgment of his Latin verses, he produced such a lampoon
 
 A YOUNG FIREBRAND 347 
 
 upon him, also in Latin, as made removal or expulsion a 
 necessity. At Oxford his Latin and Greek verses were 
 still his delight, but he took also to politics, was called a 
 mad Jacobin, and, in order to prove his sanity and show 
 his disapproval of a person obnoxious to him, fired a gun at 
 his shutters and was sent down for a year. He never re- 
 turned. After a period of strained relations with his father 
 and hot repudiations of all the plans for his future which were 
 made for him such as entering the militia, reading law, 
 and so forth he retired to Wales on a small allowance 
 and wrote "Gebir" which came out in 1798, when its 
 author was twenty-three. In 1808 Landor threw in his 
 lot with the Spaniards against the French, saw some fight- 
 ing and opened his purse for the victims of the war; 
 but the usual personal quarrel intervened. Returning to 
 England he bought Llanthony Abbey, stocked it with 
 Spanish sheep, planted extensively, and was to be the squire 
 of squires ; and at the same time seeing a pretty penniless 
 girl at a ball in Bath, he made a bet he would marry her, 
 and won it. As a squire he became quickly involved with 
 neighbours (an inevitable proceeding with him) and also 
 with a Bishop concerning the restoration of the church. 
 Lawsuits followed, and such expenses and vexations oc- 
 curred that Landor decided to leave England always a 
 popular resource with his kind. His mother took over 
 the estate and allowed him an income upon which he 
 travelled from place to place for a few years, quarrelling 
 with his wife and making it up, writing Latin verses every- 
 where and on everything, and coming into collision not 
 only with individuals but with municipalities. 
 
 He settled in Florence in 1821, finding rooms in the 
 Palazzo Medici, or, rather, Riccardi. There he remained for 
 five years, which no doubt would have been a longer period
 
 348 ENGLISH POETS IN FLORENCE 
 
 had he not accused his landlord, the Marquis, who was then 
 the head of the family, of seducing away his coachman. 
 Landor wrote stating the charge ; the Marquis, calling in 
 reply, entered the room with his hat on, and Landor first 
 knocked it off and then gave notice. It was at the Palazzo 
 Medici that Landor was visited by Hazlitt in 1825, and 
 here also he began the "Imaginary Conversations," his 
 best-known work, although it is of course such brief and 
 faultless lyrics as "Rose Aylmer" and "To lanthe" that 
 have given him his widest public. 
 
 On leaving the Palazzo, Landor acquired the Villa 
 Gherardesca, on the hill-side below Fiesole, and a very 
 beautiful little estate in which the stream Affrico rises. 
 
 Crabb Robinson, the friend of so many men of genius, 
 who was in Florence in 1830, in rooms at 1341 Via della 
 Nuova Vigna, met Landor frequently at his villa and has 
 left his impressions. Landor had made up his mind to live 
 and die in Italy, but hated the Italians. He would rather, 
 he said, follow his daughter to the grave than to her wed- 
 ding with an Italian husband. Talking on art, he said he 
 preferred John of Bologna to Michelangelo, a statement 
 he repeated to Emerson, but afterwards, I believe, re- 
 canted. He said also to Robinson that he would not give 
 1000 for Raphael's "Transfiguration," but ten times that 
 sum for Fra Bartolommeo's picture of S. Mark in the Pitti. 
 Next to Raphael and Fra Bartolommeo he loved Perugino. 
 
 Landor soon became quite the husbandman. Writing 
 to his sisters in 1831, he says : "I have planted 200 cypresses, 
 600 vines, 400 roses, 200 arbutuses, and 70 bays, besides 
 laurustinas, etc., etc., and 60 fruit trees of the best qualities 
 from France. I have not had a moment's illness since I 
 resided here, nor have the children. My wife runs after 
 colds ; it would be strange if she did not take them ; but
 
 THE VILLA LANDOR 349 
 
 she has taken none here; hers are all from Florence. I 
 have the best water, the best air, and the best oil in the 
 world. They speak highly of the wine too; but here I 
 doubt. In fact, I hate wine, unless hock or claret. . . . 
 
 "Italy is a fine climate, but Swansea better. That, 
 however, is the only spot in Great Britain where we have 
 warmth without wet. Still, Italy is the country I would 
 live in. ... In two [years] I hope to have a hundred good 
 peaches every day at table during two months : at present 
 I have had as many bad ones. My land is said to produce 
 the best figs in Tuscany; I have usually six or seven 
 bushels of them." 
 
 I have walked through Landor's little paradise now 
 called the Villa Landor and reached by the narrow rugged 
 road to the right just below the village of S. Domenico. Its 
 cypresses, planted, as I imagine, by Landor's own hand, are 
 stately as minarets, and its lawn is as green and soft as that 
 of an Oxford college. The orchard, in April, was a mass 
 of blossom. Thrushes sang in the evergreens and the first 
 swallow of the year darted through the cypresses just as we 
 reached the gates. It is truly a poet's house and garden. 
 
 In 1833 a French neighbour accused Landor of robbing 
 him of water by stopping an underground stream, and Lan- 
 dor naturally challenged him to a duel. The meeting was 
 avoided through the tact of Landor's second, the English 
 consul at Florence, and the two men became friends. At 
 his villa Landor wrote much of his best prose the ' ' Pentam- 
 eron," " Pericles and Aspasia " and the " Trial of Shake- 
 speare for Deer-stealing," and he was in the main happy, 
 having so much planting and harvesting to do, his children 
 to play with, and now and then a visitor. In the main too 
 he managed very well with the country people, but one day 
 was amused to overhear a conversation over the hedge be-
 
 350 ENGLISH POETS IN FLORENCE 
 
 tween two passing contadini. "All the English are mad," 
 said one, "but as for this one. . . . !" There was a story 
 of Landor current in Florence in those days which depicted 
 him, furious with a spoiled dish, throwing his cook out of 
 the window, and then, realizing where he would fall, ex- 
 claiming in an agony, "Good God, I forgot the violets !" 
 
 Such was Landor's impossible way on occasion that he 
 succeeded in getting himself exiled from Tuscany ; but the 
 Grand Duke was called in as pacificator, and, though the 
 order of expulsion was not rescinded, it was not carried out. 
 
 In 1835 Landor wrote some verses to his friend Ablett, 
 who had lent him the money to buy the villa, professing 
 himself wholly happy 
 
 Thou knowest how, and why, are dear to me 
 My citron groves of Fiesole, 
 My chirping Affrico, my beechwood nook, 
 My Naiads, with feet only in the brook, 
 Which runs away and giggles in their faces ; 
 Yet there they sit, nor sigh for other places 
 
 but later in the year came a serious break. Landor's 
 relations with Mrs. Landor, never of such a nature as to 
 give any sense of security, had grown steadily worse as he 
 became more explosive, and they now reached such a point 
 that he flung out of the house one day and did not return 
 for many years, completing the action by a poem in which 
 he took a final (as he thought) farewell of Italy : 
 
 I leave thee, beauteous Italy ! No more 
 From the high terraces, at even-tide, 
 To look supine into thy depths of sky, 
 The golden moon between the cliff and me, 
 Or thy dark spires of fretted cypresses 
 Bordering the channel of the milky way. 
 Fiesole and Valdarno must be dreams, 
 Hereafter, and my own lost Affrico 
 Murmur to me but the poet's song.
 
 CINCIRILLO 351 
 
 Landor gave his son Arnold the villa, settling a sum on 
 his wife for the other children's maintenance, and himself 
 returned to Bath, where he added to his friends Sir William 
 Napier (who first found a resemblance to a lion in Landor's 
 features), John Forster, who afterwards wrote his life, and 
 Charles Dickens, who named a child after him and touched 
 off his merrier turbulent side most charmingly as Leonard 
 Boythorn in "Bleak House." But his most constant com- 
 panion was a Pomeranian dog; in dogs indeed he found 
 comfort all his life, right to the end. 
 
 Landor's love of his villa and estate finds expression again 
 and again in his verse written at this time. The most 
 charming of all these charming poems the perfection of 
 the light verse of a serious poet is the letter from Eng- 
 land to his youngest boy, speculating on his Italian pursuits. 
 I begin at the passage describing the villa's cat : 
 
 Does Cincirillo follow thee about, 
 Inverting one swart foot suspensively, 
 And wagging his dread jaw at every chirp 
 Of bird above him on the olive-branch ? 
 Frighten him then away ! 'twas he who slew 
 Our pigeons, our white pigeons peacock-tailed, 
 That feared not you and me alas, nor him ! 
 I flattened his striped sides along my knee, 
 And reasoned with him on his bloody mind, 
 Till he looked blandly, and half-closed his eyes 
 To ponder on my lecture in the shade. 
 I doubt his memory much, his heart a little, 
 And in some minor matters (may I say it ?) 
 Could wish him rather sager. But from thee 
 God hold back wisdom yet for many years ! 
 Whether in early season or in late 
 It always comes high-priced. For thy pure breast 
 I have no lesson ; it for me has many. 
 Come throw it open then ! What sports, what cares
 
 352 ENGLISH POETS IN FLORENCE 
 
 (Since there are none too young for these) engage 
 
 Thy busy thoughts ? Are you again at work, 
 
 Walter and you, with those sly labourers, 
 
 Geppo, Giovanni, Cecco, and Poeta, 
 
 To build more solidly your broken dam 
 
 Among the poplars, whence the nightingale 
 
 Inquisitively watch'd you all day long ? 
 
 I was not of your council in the scheme, 
 
 Or might have saved you silver without end, 
 
 And sighs too without number. Art thou gone 
 
 Below the mulberry, where that cold pool 
 
 Urged to devise a warmer, and more fit 
 
 For mighty swimmers, swimming three abreast ? 
 
 Or art though panting in this summer noon 
 
 Upon the lowest step before the hall, 
 
 Drawing a slice of watermelon, long 
 
 As Cupid's bow, athwart thy wetted lips 
 
 (Like one who plays Pan's pipe), and letting drop 
 
 The sable seeds from all their separate cells, 
 
 And leaving bays profound and rocks abrupt, 
 
 Redder than coral round Calypso's cave ? 
 
 In 1853 Landor put forth what he thought his last book, 
 under the title "Last Fruit off an Old Tree." Unhappily 
 it was not his last, for in 1858 he issued yet one more, 
 "Dry Sticks faggotted by W. S. Landor," in which was a 
 malicious copy of verses reflecting upon a lady. He was 
 sued for libel, lost the case with heavy damages, and once 
 more and for the last time left England for Florence. He 
 was now eighty-three. At first he went to the Villa 
 Gherardesco, then the home of his son Arnold, but his 
 outbursts were unbearable, and three times he broke away, 
 to be three times brought back. In July, 1859, he made a 
 fourth escape, and then escaped altogether, for Browning 
 took the matter in hand and established him, after a period 
 in Siena, in lodgings in the Via Nunziatina. From this 
 time till his death in 1864 Landor may be said at last to
 
 THE MADONNA AND CHILDREN 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY PERUGINO IN THE PITTI
 
 GIALLO 353 
 
 have been at rest. He had found safe anchorage and never 
 left it. Many friends came to see him, chief among them 
 Browning, who was at once his adviser, his admirer, and 
 his shrewd observer. Landor, always devoted to pictures, 
 but without much judgment, now added to his collection ; 
 Browning in one of his letters to Forster tells how he has 
 found him "particularly delighted by the acquisition of 
 three execrable dogs by Domenichino and Gasper Poussin 
 most benevolently battered by time." Another friend says 
 that he had a habit of attributing all his doubtful pictures 
 to Correggio. "He cannot," Browning continues, "in the 
 least understand that he is at all wrong, or injudicious, 
 or unfortunate in anything. . . . Whatever he may prof ess, 
 the thing he really loves is a pretty giijl to talk nonsense 
 with." 
 
 Of the old man in the company of fair listeners we have 
 glimpses in the reminiscences of Mrs. Fields in the "Atlantic 
 Monthly " in 1866. She also describes him as in a cloud of 
 pictures. There with his Pomeranian Giallo within fond- 
 ling distance, the poet, seated in his arm-chair, fired com- 
 ments upon everything. Giallo's opinion was asked on all 
 subjects, and Landor said of him that an approving wag 
 of his tail was worth all the praise of all the "Quarterlies." 
 It was Giallo who led to the profound couplet 
 
 He is foolish who supposes 
 Dogs are ill that have hot noses. 
 
 Mrs. Fields tells how, after some classical or fashionable 
 music had been played, Landor would come closer to the 
 piano and ask for an old English ballad, and when "Auld 
 Robin Gray," his favourite of all, was sung, the tears 
 would stream down his face. "Ah, you don't know what 
 thoughts you are recalling to the troublesome old man." 
 
 2A
 
 354 ENGLISH POETS IN FLORENCE 
 
 But we have Browning's word that he did not spend 
 much time in remorse or regret, while there was the com- 
 position of the pretty little tender epigrams of this last 
 period to amuse him and Italian politics to enchain his 
 sympathy. His impulsive generosity led him to give his 
 old and trusted watch to the funds for Garibaldi's Sicilian 
 expedition ; but Browning persuaded him to take it again. 
 For Garibaldi's wounded prisoners he wrote an Italian 
 dialogue between Savonarola and the Prior of S. Marco. 
 The death of Mrs. Browning in 1861 sent Browning back 
 to England, and Landor after that was less cheerful and 
 rarely left the house. His chief solace was the novels of 
 Anthony Trollope and G. P. R. James. In his last year 
 he received a visit from a young English poet and enthusiast 
 for poetry, one Algernon Charles Swinburne, who arrived 
 in time to have a little glowing talk with the old lion and 
 thus obtain inspiration for some fine memorial stanzas. On 
 September 17th, 1864, Death found Landor ready as 
 nine years earlier he had promised it should 
 
 To my ninth decade I have totter'd on, 
 And no soft arm bends now my steps to steady ; 
 
 She who once led me where she would, is gone, 
 So when he calls me, Death shall find me ready. 
 
 Landor was buried, as we saw, in the English cemetery 
 within the city, whither his son Arnold was borne less than 
 seven years later. Here is his own epitaph, one of the most 
 perfect things in form and substance in the English lan- 
 guage : 
 
 I strove with none, for none was worth my strife, 
 
 Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art ; 
 I warmed both hands before the fire of life. 
 
 It sinks, and I am ready to depart. 
 
 It should be cut on his tombstone.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE CARMINE AND SAN MINIATO 
 
 The human form divine and waxen Galileo Bianca Capella A 
 faithful Grand Duke S. Spirito The Carmine Masaccio's place in 
 art Leonardo's summary The S. Peter frescoes The Pitti side 
 Romola A little country walk The ancient wall The Piazzale Mi- 
 chelangelo An evening prospect S. Miniato Antonio Rossellino's 
 masterpiece The story of S. Gualberto A city of the dead The 
 reluctant departure. 
 
 THE Via Maggio is now our way, but first there is a 
 museum which I think should be visited, if only be- 
 cause it gave Dickens so much pleasure when he was here 
 the Museo di Storia Naturale, which is open three days 
 a week only and is always free. Many visitors to Florence 
 never even hear of it and one quickly finds that its chief 
 frequenters are the poor. All the better for that. Here 
 not only is the whole animal kingdom spread out before 
 the eye in crowded cases, but the most wonderful col- 
 lection of wax reproductions of the human form is to be 
 seen. These anatomical models are so numerous and so 
 exact that, since the human body does not change with 
 the times, a medical student could learn everything from 
 them in the most gentlemanly way possible. But they need 
 a strong stomach. Mine, I confess, quailed before the end. 
 The hero of the Museum is Galileo, whose tomb at 
 S. Croce we have seen : here are preserved certain of his 
 instruments in a modern, floridly decorated Tribuna named 
 after him. Galileo Galilei (1564-1642) belongs rather to 
 
 355
 
 356 THE CARMINE AND SAN MINIATO 
 
 Pisa, where he was born and where he found the Leaning 
 Tower useful for experiments, and to Rome, where in 
 1611 he demonstrated his discovery of the telescope; but 
 Florence is proud of him and it was here that he died, 
 under circumstances tragic for an astronomer, for he had 
 become totally blind. 
 
 The frescoes in the Tribuna celebrate other Italian scien- 
 tific triumphs, and in the cases are historic telescopes, 
 astrolabes, binoculars, and other mysteries. 
 
 The Via Maggio, which runs from Casa Guidi to the 
 Ponte Trinita, and at noon is always full of school-girls, 
 brings us by way of the Via Michelozzo to S. Spirito, but 
 by continuing in it we pass a house of great interest, now 
 No. 26, where once lived the famous Bianca Capella, that 
 beautiful and magnetic Venetian whom some hold to 
 have been so vile and others so much the victim of fate. 
 Bianca Capella was born in 1543, when Francis I, Cosimo I's 
 eldest son, afterwards to play such a part in her life, was 
 two years of age. While he was being brought up in Flor- 
 ence, Bianca was gaining loveliness in her father's palace. 
 When she was seventeen she fell in love with a young Flor- 
 entine engaged in a bank in Venice, and they were secretly 
 married. Her family were outraged by the mesalliance and 
 the young couple had to flee to Florence, where they lived 
 in poverty and hiding, a prize of 2000 ducats being offered 
 by the Capella family to anyone who would kill theliusband ; 
 while, by way of showing how much in earnest they were, 
 they had his uncle thrown into prison, where he died. 
 
 One day the unhappy Bianca was sitting at her window 
 when the young prince Francis was passing : he looked 
 up, saw her, and was enslaved on the spot. (The portraits 
 of Bianca do not, I must admit, lay emphasis on this story. 
 Titian's I have not seen ; but there is one by Bronzino in
 
 BIANCA CAPELLA 357 
 
 our National Gallery No. 650 and many in Florence.) 
 There was, however, something in Bianca's face to which 
 Francis fell a victim, and he brought about a speedy meet- 
 ing. At first Bianca repulsed him; but when she found 
 that her husband was unworthy of her, she returned the 
 Prince's affection. (I am telling her story from the 
 pro-Bianca point of view : there are plenty of narrators on 
 the other side.) Meanwhile, Francis's official life going 
 on, he married that archduchess Joanna of Austria for 
 whom the Austrian frescoes in the Palazzo Vecchio were 
 painted ; but his heart remained Bianca's, and he was more 
 at her house than in his own. At last, Bianca's husband 
 being killed in some fray, she was free from the persecu- 
 tion of her family and ready to occupy the palace which 
 Francis hastened to build for her, here, in the Via Maggio, 
 now cut up into tenements at a few lire a week. The at- 
 tachment continued unabated when Francis came to the 
 throne, and upon the death of his archduchess in 1578 
 Bianca and he were almost immediately, but privately, 
 married, she being then thirty-five; and in the next year 
 they were publicly married in the church of S. Lorenzo 
 with every circumstance of pomp ; while later in the same 
 year Bianca was crowned. 
 
 Francis remained her lover till his death, which was both 
 dramatic and suspicious, husband and wife dying within a 
 few hours of each other at the Medici villa of Poggia a 
 Caiano in 1587. Historians have not hesitated to suggest 
 that Francis was poisoned by his wife; but there is no 
 proof. It is indeed quite possible that her life was more 
 free of intrigue, ambition, and falsehood, than that of any- 
 one about the court at that time; but the Florentines, 
 encouraged by Francis's brother Ferdinand I, who succeeded 
 him, made up their minds that she was a witch, and few
 
 358 THE CARMINE AND SAN MINIATO 
 
 things in the way of disaster happened that were not laid 
 to her charge. Call a woman a witch and everything is 
 possible. Ferdinand not only detested Bianca in life and 
 deplored her fascination for his brother, but when she died 
 he refused to allow her to be buried with the others of the 
 family ; hence the Chapel of the Princes at S. Lorenzo 
 lacks one archduchess. Her grave is unknown. 
 
 The whole truth we shall never know ; but it is as easy 
 to think of Bianca as a harmless woman who both lost and 
 gained through love as to picture her as sinister and schem- 
 ing. At any rate we know that Francis was devoted to 
 her with a fidelity and persistence for which Grand Dukes 
 have not always been conspicuous. 
 
 S. Spirito is one of Brunelleschi's solidest works. Within 
 it resembles the city of Bologna in its vistas of brown and 
 white arches. The effect is severe and splendid; but the 
 church is to be taken rather as architecture than a treasury 
 of art, for although each of its eight and thirty chapels has 
 an altar picture and several have fine pieces of sculpture 
 one a copy of Michelangelo's famous Pieta in Rome there 
 is nothing of the highest value. It was in this church that 
 I was asked alms by one of the best -dressed men in Florence ; 
 but the Florentine beggars are not importunate : they ask, 
 receive or are denied, and that is the end of it. 
 
 The other great church in the Pitti quarter is the Car- 
 mine, and here we are on very sacred ground in art for it 
 was here, as I have had occasion to say more than once in 
 this book, that Masaccio painted those early frescoes which 
 by their innovating boldness turned the Brancacci chapel 
 into an Academy. For all the artists came to study and 
 copy them : among others Michelangelo, whose nose was 
 broken by the turbulent Torrigiano, a fellow-student, 
 under this very roof.
 
 MASACCIO 359 
 
 Tommaso di Ser Giovanni, or Masaccio, the son of a 
 notary, was born in 1402. His master is not known, but 
 Tommaso Fini or Masolino, born in 1383, is often named. 
 Vasari states that as a youth Masaccio helped Ghiberti 
 with his first Baptistery doors ; and if so, the fact is signifi- 
 cant. But all that is really known of his early life is that 
 he went to Rome to paint a chapel in S. Clemente. He re- 
 turned, apparently on hearing that his patron Giovanni de' 
 Medici was in power again. Another friend, Brunelleschi, 
 having built the church of S. Spirito in 1422, Masaccio be- 
 gan to work there in 1423, when he was only twenty-one. 
 
 Masaccio's peculiar value in the history of painting is his 
 early combined power of applying the laws of perspective 
 and representing human beings "in the round." Giotto 
 was the first and greatest innovator in painting the 
 father of real painting; Masaccio was the second. If 
 from Giotto's influence a stream of vigour had flowed 
 such as flowed from Masaccio's, there would have been 
 nothing special to note about Masaccio at all. But the 
 impulse which Giotto gave to art died down; some one 
 had to reinvigorate it, and that some one was Masaccio. In 
 his thoughts on painting, Leonardo da Vinci sums up the 
 achievements of the two. They stood out, he says, from 
 the others of their time, by reason of their wish to go to 
 life rather than to pictures. Giotto went to life, his 
 followers went to pictures ; and the result was a decline in 
 art until Masaccio, who again went to life. 
 
 From the Carmine frescoes came the new painting. It 
 is not that walls henceforth were covered more beautifully 
 or suitably than they had been by Giotto's followers ; prob- 
 ably less suitably very often ; but that religious symbol- 
 ism without much relation to actual life gave way to scenes 
 which might credibly have occurred, where men, women,
 
 360 THE CARMINE AND SAN MINIATO 
 
 and saints walked and talked much as we do, in similar 
 surroundings, with backgrounds of cities that could be lived 
 in and windows that could open. It was this revolution 
 that Masaccio performed. No doubt if he had not, 
 another would, for it had to come : the new demand was 
 that religion should be reconciled with life. 
 
 It is generally supposed that Masaccio had Masolino as 
 his ally in this wonderful series ; and a vast amount of ink 
 has been spilt over Masolino's contributions. Indeed the 
 literature of expert art criticism on Florentine pictures 
 alone is of alarming bulk and astonishing in its affirmations 
 and denials. The untutored visitor in the presence of so 
 much scientific variance will be wise to enact the part of 
 the lawyer in the old caricature of the litigants and the 
 cow, who, while they pull, one at the head and the other 
 at the tail, fills his bucket with milk. In other words 
 the plain duty of the ordinary person is to enjoy the 
 picture. 
 
 Without any special knowledge of art one can, by re- 
 membering the early date of these frescoes, realize what 
 excitement they must have caused in the studios and how 
 tongues must have clacked in the Old Market. We have 
 but to send OUT thoughts to the Spanish chapel at S. 
 Maria Novella to realize the technical advance. Masaccio, 
 we see, was peopling a visible world ; the Spanish chapel 
 painters were merely allegorizing, as agents of holiness. 
 The Ghirlandaio choir in the same church would yield a 
 similar comparison; but what we have to remember is 
 that Ghirlandaio painted these frescoes in 1490, sixty- 
 two years after Masaccio's death, and Masaccio showed 
 him how. 
 
 It is a pity that the light is so poor and that the frescoes 
 have not worn better ; but their force and dramatic vigour
 
 A GIPSY 
 
 FROM THE PAINTING BY BOCCACCIO BOCCACINI IN THE PITTI
 
 THE FRESCOES 361 
 
 remain beyond doubt. The upper scene on the left of the 
 altar is very powerful : the Roman tax collector has asked 
 Christ for a tribute and Christ bids Peter find the money 
 in the mouth of a fish. Figures, architecture, landscape, 
 all are in right relation ; and the drama is moving, without 
 restlessness. This and the S. Peter preaching and distrib- 
 uting alms are perhaps the best, but the most popular 
 undoubtedly is that below it, finished many years after by 
 Filippino Lippi (although there are experts to question this 
 and even substitute his amorous father), in which S. Peter, 
 challenged by Simon Magus, resuscitates a dead boy, just 
 as S. Zenobius used to do in the streets of this city. Cer- 
 tain more modern touches, such as the exquisite Filippino 
 would naturally have thought of, may be seen here : the 
 little girl behind the boy, for instance, who recalls the 
 children in that fresco by the same hand at S. Maria 
 Novella in which S. John resuscitates Drusiana. In this 
 Carmine fresco are many portraits of Filippino's contempo- 
 raries, including Botticelli, just as in the scene of the conse- 
 cration of the Carmine which Masaccio painted in the 
 cloisters, but which has almost perished, he introduced 
 Brancacci, his employer, Brunelleschi, Donatello, some of 
 whose innovating work in stone he was doing in paint, 
 Giovanni de' Medici and Masolino. The scanty remains 
 of this fresco tell us that it must have been fine indeed. 
 
 Masaccio died at the early age of twenty-six, having 
 suddenly disappeared from Florence, leaving certain work 
 unfinished. A strange portentous meteor in art. 
 
 The Pitti side of the river is less interesting than the 
 other, but it has some very fascinating old and narrow 
 streets, although they are less comfortable for foreigners to 
 wander in than those, for example, about the Borgo SS. 
 Apostoli. They are far dirtier.
 
 362 THE CARMINE AND SAN MINIATO 
 
 From the Pitti end of the Ponte Vecchio, one can obtain 
 a most charming walk. Turn to the left as you leave the 
 bridge, under the arch made by Cosimo's passage, and you 
 are in the Via de' Bardi, the backs of whose houses on the 
 river side are so beautiful from the Uffizi's central arches, 
 as Mr. Morley's picture shows. At the end of the street 
 is an archway under a large house. Go through this, and 
 you are at the foot of a steep, stone hill. It is really steep, 
 but never mind. Take it easily, and rest half-way where 
 the houses on the left break and give a wonderful view of 
 the city. Still climbing, you come to the best gate of all 
 that is left a true gate in being an inlet into a fortified 
 city that of S. Giorgio, high on the Boboli hill by the 
 fort. The S. Giorgio gate has a S. George killing a dragon, 
 in stone, on its outside, and the saint painted within, 
 Donatello's conception of him being followed by the artist. 
 Passing through, you are in the country. The fort and 
 gardens are on one side and villas on the other ; and a 
 great hill-side is in front, covered with crops. Do not go 
 on, but turn sharp to the left and follow the splendid city 
 wall, behind which for a long way is the garden of the Villa 
 Karolath, one of the choicest spots in Florence, occasionally 
 tossing it branches over the top. This wall is immense all 
 the way down to the Porta S. Miniato, and two of the old 
 towers are still standing in their places upon it. Botti- 
 cini's National Gallery picture tells exactly how they 
 looked in their heyday. Ivy hangs over, grass and flowers 
 spring from the ancient stones, and lizards run about. 
 Underneath are olive-trees. 
 
 It was, by the way, in the Via de' Bardi that George 
 Eliot's Romola lived, for she was of the Bardi family. The 
 story of Romola, it may be remembered, begins on the 
 morning of Lorenzo the Magnificent's death, and ends
 
 "ROMOLA" 363 
 
 after the execution of Savonarola. It is not an inspired 
 romance, and is remarkable almost equally for its psycho- 
 logical omissions and the convenience of its coincidences, 
 but it is an excellent preparation for a first visit in youth to 
 S. Marco and the Palazzo Vecchio, while the presence in 
 its somewhat naive pages of certain Florentine characters 
 makes it agreeable to those who know something of the 
 city and its history. The painter Piero di Cosimo, for ex- 
 ample, is here, straight from Vasari ; so also are Cronaca, 
 the architect, Savonarola, Capparo, the ironsmith, and 
 even Machiavelli ; while Bernardo del Nero, the gonfalo- 
 nier, whose death sentence Savonarola refused to revise, 
 was Romola's godfather. 
 
 The Via Guicciardini, which runs from the foot of the 
 Via de' Bardi to the Pitti, is one of the narrowest and 
 busiest Florentine streets, with an undue proportion of 
 fruit shops overflowing to the pavement to give it gay 
 colouring. At No. 24 is a stable with pillars and arches 
 that would hold up a pyramid. But this is no better than 
 most of the old stables of Florence, which are all solid 
 vaulted caverns of immense size and strength. 
 
 From the Porta Romana one may do many things 
 take the tram, for example, for the Certosa of the Val 
 d'Ema, which is only some twenty minutes' distant, or 
 make a longer journey to Impruneta, where the della Robbias 
 are. But just now let us walk or ride up the long winding 
 Viale Macchiavelli, which curves among the villas behind 
 the Boboli Gardens, to the Piazzale Michelangelo and S. 
 Miniato. 
 
 The Piazzale Michelangelo is one of the few modern 
 tributes of Florence to her illustrious makers. The Dante 
 memorial opposite S. Croce is another, together with 
 the preservation of certain buildings with Dante associa-
 
 364 THE CARMINE AND SAN MINIATO 
 
 tions in the heart of the city; but, as I have said more 
 than once, there is no piazza in Florence, and only one new 
 street, named after a Medici. From the Piazzale Michel- 
 angelo you not only have a fine panoramic view of the city 
 of this great man in its principal features not so vastly 
 different from the Florence of his day, although of course 
 larger and with certain modern additions, such as factory 
 chimneys, railway lines, and so forth but you can see 
 the remains of the fortifications which he constructed in 
 1529, and which kept the Imperial troops at bay for nearly 
 a year. Just across the river rises S. Croce, where the great 
 man is buried, and beyond, over the red roofs, the dome 
 of the Medici chapel at S. Lorenzo shows us the position 
 of the Biblioteca Laurenziana and the New Sacristy, both 
 built by him. Immediately below us is the Church of S. 
 Niccolo, where he is said to have hidden in 1529, when there 
 was a hue and cry for him. In the middle of this spacious 
 plateau is a bronze reproduction of his David, and it is 
 good to see it, from the cafe behind it, rising head and 
 shoulders above the highest Apennines. 
 
 S. Miniato, the church on the hill-top above the Piazzale 
 Michelangelo, deserves many visits. One may not be too 
 greatly attached to marble facades, but this little temple 
 defeats all prejudices by its radiance and perfection, and to 
 its extraordinary charm its situation adds. It crowns the 
 hill, and in the late afternoon the ideal time to visit it 
 is full in the eye of the sun, bathed in whose light the green 
 and white facade, with miracles of delicate intarsia, is balm 
 to the eyes instead of being, as marble so often is, dazzling 
 and cold. 
 
 On the way up we pass the fine church of S. Salvatore, 
 which Cronaca of the Palazzo Vecchio and Palazzo Strozzi 
 built and Michelangelo admired, and which is now secular-
 
 A GAY CHURCH 365 
 
 ized, and pass through the gateway of Michelangelo's 
 upper fortifications. S. Miniato is one of the oldest 
 churches of Florence, some of it eleventh century. It has 
 its name from Minias, a Roman soldier who suffered 
 martyrdom at Florence under Decius. Within, one does 
 not feel quite to be in a Christian church, the effect partly 
 of the unusual colouring, all grey, green, and gold and soft 
 light tints as of birds' bosoms ; partly of the ceiling, which 
 has the bright hues of a Russian toy ; partly of the forest 
 of great gay columns ; partly of the lovely and so richly 
 decorated marble screen ; and partly of the absence of a . < 
 transept. The prevailing feeling indeed is gentle gaiety ; 
 and in the crypt this is intensified, for it is just a joyful 
 assemblage of dancing arches. 
 
 The church as a whole is beautiful and memorable , 
 enough; but its details are wonderful too, from the niello > 
 pavement, and the translucent marble windows of the apse, 
 to the famous tomb of Cardinal Jacopo of Portugal, and 
 the Luca della Robbia reliefs of the Virtues. This tomb 
 is by Antonio Rossellino. It is not quite of the rank of ''{IT 
 Mino's in the Badia ; but it is a noble and beautiful thing 
 marked in every inch of it by modest and exquisite thought. 
 Vasari says of Antonio that he "practised his art with such 
 grace that he was valued as something more than a man 
 by those who knew him, who well-nigh adored him as a 
 saint." Facing it is a delightful Annunciation by Alessio 
 Baldovinetti, in which the angel declares the news from a 
 far greater distance than we are accustomed to ; and the 
 ceiling is made an abode of gladness by the blue and white 
 figures (designed by Luca della Robbia) of Prudence and 
 Chastity, Moderation and Fortitude, for all of which 
 qualities, it seems, the Cardinal was famous. In short, 
 one cannot be too glad that, since he had to die, death's
 
 366 THE CARMINE AND SAN MINIATO 
 
 dart struck down this Portuguese prelate while he was in 
 Rossellino's and Luca's city. 
 
 No longer is preserved here the miraculous crucifix 
 which, standing in a little chapel in the wood on this spot, 
 bestowed blessing and pardon by bending towards him 
 upon S. Giovanni Gualberto, the founder of the Vallom- 
 brosan order. The crucifix is now in S. Trinita. The 
 saint was born in 985 of noble stock and assumed naturally 
 the splendour and arrogance of his kind. His brother 
 Hugo being murdered in some affray, Giovanni took upon 
 himself the duty of avenging the crime. One Good Friday 
 he chanced to meet, near this place, the assassin, in so 
 narrow a passage as to preclude any chance of escape ; and 
 he was about to kill him when the man fell on his knees 
 and implored mercy by the passion of Christ Who suffered 
 on that very day, adding that Christ had prayed on the 
 cross for His own murderers. Giovanni was so much im- 
 pressed that he not only forgave the man but offered him 
 his friendship. Entering then the chapel to pray and ask 
 forgiveness of all his sins, he was amazed to see the crucifix 
 bend down as though acquiescing and blessing, and this 
 special mark of favour so wrought upon him that he 
 became a monk, himself shaving his head for that purpose 
 and defying his father*s rage, and subsequently founded 
 the Vallombrosan order. He died in 1073. 
 
 I have said something of the S. Croce habit and the S. 
 Maria Novella habit ; but I think that when all is said the 
 S. Miniato habit is the most important to acquire. There is 
 nothing else like it ; and the sense of height is so invigorat- 
 ing too. At all times of the year it is beautiful ; but perhaps 
 best in early spring, when the highest mountains still have 
 snow upon them and the neighbouring slopes are covered 
 with tender green and white fruit blossom, and here the
 
 FAREWELL 367 
 
 violet wistaria blooms and there the sombre crimson of the 
 Judas-tree. 
 
 Behind and beside the church is a crowded city of the 
 Florentine dead, reproducing to some extent the city of 
 the Florentine living, in its closely packed habitations the 
 detached palaces for the rich and the great congeries of 
 cells for the poor more of which are being built all the 
 time. There is a certain melancholy interest in wandering 
 through these silent streets, peering through the windows 
 and recognizing over the vaults names famous in Florence. 
 One learns quickly how bad modern mortuary architecture 
 and sculpture can be, but I noticed one monument with 
 some sincerity and unaffected grace : that to a charitable 
 Marchesa, a friend of the poor, at the foot of whose pedes- 
 tal are a girl and baby done simply and well. 
 
 Better perhaps to remain on the highest point and look 
 at the city beneath. One should try to be there before 
 sunset and watch the Apennines turning to a deeper and 
 deeper indigo and the city growing dimmer and dimmer in 
 the dusk. Florence is beautiful from every point of van- 
 tage, but from none more beautiful than from this eminence. 
 As one reluctantly leaves the church and passes again 
 through Michelangelo's fortification gateway to descend, 
 one has, framed in its portal, a final lovely Apennine 
 scene.
 
 368 
 
 HISTORICAL CHART OF FLOR 
 
 ARTISTS' DATES 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT FLORENTINE DATES 
 
 1300 (c.) 
 1302 (c.) 
 
 Taddeo Gaddi born (d. 1366) 
 Cimabue died (b. 1240) 
 
 izg6 
 1208 
 1300 
 
 1302 
 
 Foundations of the Duomo conse- 
 crated 
 Palazzo Vecchio commenced by 
 Arnolfo di Cambio 
 Beginning of the feuds of the 
 Bianchi and Neri 
 Guido Cavalcanti died 
 Dante exiled, Jan. 27 
 
 
 
 1304 
 
 Petrarch born (d. 1374) 
 
 1308 (c.) 
 
 Andrea Orcagna born (d. 1368) 
 
 1308 
 
 Death of Corso Donati 
 
 1310 
 
 Araolfo di Cambio died (b. 1232 ?) 
 
 
 
 
 
 1312 
 1313 
 
 Siege of Florence by Henry VII 
 Boccaccio born (d. 1375) 
 
 
 
 1321 
 
 Dante died Sept. 14 (b. 1265) 
 
 
 
 1325 
 
 
 
 
 1328 
 
 
 1333 
 
 Spinello Aretino born (d. 1410) 
 
 1333 
 1334 
 
 Destructive floods 
 Foundations of the Campanile laid 
 
 1336 
 
 Giotto died (b. 1276?) 
 
 1337 
 
 Or San Michele commenced 
 
 
 
 1339 
 
 Andrea Pisano's gates finished 
 
 1344 
 
 Simone Martini died (b. 1283) 
 
 1342 
 1343 
 
 
 1348 
 
 Andrea Pisano died (b. 1270) 
 
 1348 
 
 Black Death of the Decameron 
 Giovanni Villani died (b. 1275 c.)
 
 ENCE AND EUROPE, 1296-1564 
 
 369 
 
 POPES 
 
 FRENCH 
 KINGS 
 
 ENGLISH 
 KINGS 
 
 MILAN 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT GENERAL DATES 
 
 Boniface 
 
 Philip IV 
 
 Edward I 
 
 Matteo 
 
 
 
 VIII 
 
 
 
 
 
 Visconti 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1298 
 
 Battle of Falkirk 
 
 13 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Benedict XI 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 t35 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Clement V 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1306 
 
 Coronation of Bruce 
 
 
 
 
 
 1307 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Edwa 
 
 irdll 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 
 
 
 
 1314 
 
 Battle of Bannockburn 
 
 
 
 Louis X 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 John 
 
 16 
 XXII 
 
 Jot 
 Phil 
 
 16 
 nl 
 . P V 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 22 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 22 
 
 
 
 
 
 Charles IV 
 
 
 
 Galeazzo 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Vise 
 
 onti 
 
 1324 
 
 John Wyclif born (d. 1384) 
 
 
 
 Philj 
 
 28 
 
 pVI 
 
 13 
 Edwa 
 
 27 
 
 rdlll 
 
 13 
 13 
 
 28 
 29 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Azzo 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Vise 
 
 onti 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 34 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Benedict 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 XII 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1337 
 
 Froissart born (d. 1410?) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1339 
 Luchmo 
 
 1339 
 
 Beginning of the Hundred 
 Years' War 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 and 
 
 
 
 1342 
 
 
 
 
 
 Giovanni 
 
 
 
 Cleme 
 
 nt VI 
 
 
 
 
 
 Vise 
 
 onti 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1346 
 
 Battle of Crecy 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1347 
 
 Rienzi made Tribune of Rome 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Edward III took Calais 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1348-9 
 1348 
 
 Black Death in England 
 S. Catherine of Siena born 
 
 
 
 1350 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 John II 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 370 
 
 HISTORICAL CHART OF FLOR 
 
 ARTISTS' DATES 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT FLORENTINE DATES 
 
 1356 
 
 Lippo Memmi died 
 
 
 
 
 
 1360 
 
 Giovanni de' Medici (di Bicci) born 
 
 1366 
 
 Taddeo Gaddi died (b. c. 1300) 
 
 1365 
 (c.) 
 
 Ponte Vecchio rebuilt by Taddeo 
 Gaddi 
 
 1368 
 
 Andrea Orcagna died 
 
 
 
 1370 (c.) 
 i37i 
 
 Lorenzo Monaco born (d. 1425) 
 Gentile da Fabriano born (d. 1450) 
 Jacopo della Quercia born (d. 1438) 
 
 
 
 1377 
 1378 
 
 Filippo Brunelleschi born (d. 1446) 
 Lorenzo Gbiberti born (d. 1455) 
 
 1374 
 1375 
 1376 
 
 1378 
 
 Petrarch died 
 Boccaccio died 
 Loggia de' Lanzi commenced 
 
 Salvestro de' Medici elected Gon- 
 faloniere 
 
 1386 (?) 
 1387 
 
 1391 
 
 Donatello born (d. 1466) 
 Fra Angelico born (d. 1455) 
 
 Michelozzo born (d. 1472) 
 
 1389 
 1390 
 
 Cosimo de' Medici (Pater Patrue) 
 born 
 War with Milan 
 
 
 
 1394 
 
 Sir John Hawkwood died 
 
 1396 (?) 
 1397 
 
 Andrea del Castagno born (d. 1457) 
 Paolo Uccello born (d. 1475) 
 
 
 
 I3990F 
 1400 
 1401 or 
 1402 
 
 Luca della Robbia born (d. 1482) 
 Masaccio born (d. 1428?) 
 
 1399 
 
 Competition for Baptistery Gates
 
 ENCE AND EUROPE, 1296-1564 
 
 371 
 
 POPES 
 
 FRENCH 
 KINGS 
 
 ENGLISH 
 KINGS 
 
 MILAN 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT GENERAL DATES 
 
 . 1352 
 
 Innocent 
 VI 
 
 Job 
 
 nil 
 
 Edwa 
 
 rdra 
 
 Luchino and 
 Giovanni 
 Visconti 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Ma 
 Ben 
 Gale 
 
 tteb 
 iab6 
 azzo 
 
 I3S6 
 
 Battle of Poictiers 
 
 13 
 Urb. 
 
 b 
 
 mV 
 
 13 
 Char 
 
 54 
 lesV 
 
 
 
 
 
 1362 
 
 First draft of Piers Plowman 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 Grego 
 
 70 
 ryXI 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 J3 
 
 Urba 
 
 78 
 nVI 
 
 ChM 
 
 So 
 esVI 
 
 Rich! 
 
 %n 
 
 
 
 Gale 
 Vise 
 
 78 
 an 1 
 azzo 
 onti 
 
 1379 
 
 Thomas 1 Kempis born 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1381 
 
 Wat Tyler's Rebellion 
 
 13 
 Bon 
 
 r 
 
 face 
 
 c 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Hem 
 
 JW 
 
 
 
 1400 
 
 Geoffrey Chaucer died 
 
 14. 
 
 34 
 
 
 
 
 
 1402 
 Gian Maria 
 Visconti 
 

 
 372 
 
 HISTORICAL CHART OF FLOR 
 
 ARTISTS' DATES 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT FLORENTINE DATES 
 
 1405 
 
 Leon Battista Alberti born (d. 1472) 
 
 
 
 1406 
 
 Lippo Lippi born (d. 1469) 
 
 
 
 1409 
 
 Bernardo Rossellino born (d. 1464) 
 
 
 
 1410 
 
 Spinello Aretino died 
 
 
 
 1415 
 
 Piero della Francesca born (d. 1492) 
 
 
 
 
 
 1416 
 
 Piero de' Medici (il Gottoso) born 
 
 
 
 1419 
 
 
 1420 
 
 Benozzo Gozzoli born (d. 1498) 
 
 
 
 
 
 1421 
 
 Purchase of Leghorn by Florence 
 
 
 
 
 Giovanni de' Medici elected Gon- 
 
 
 
 
 faloniere 
 
 1425 
 
 Lorenzo Monaco died 
 
 1424 
 
 Spedale degli Innocent! commenced 
 Ghiberti's first gates set up 
 
 
 Alessio Baldovinetti born (d. 1499) 
 
 
 
 1427 
 1428 (?) 
 
 Antonio Rossellino born (d. 1478) 
 Masaccio died 
 
 1428 
 
 Giovanni de' Medici died 
 
 1428 
 
 Desiderio da Settignano born (d. 
 
 
 
 
 1464) 
 
 
 
 1429 (?) 
 
 Giovanni Bellini born (d. 1516) 
 Antonio Pollaiuolo born (d. 1498) 
 
 
 
 1430 
 
 Cosimo Tura died 
 
 
 
 1431 
 1432 (?) 
 
 Andrea Mantegna born (d. 1506) 
 Mina da Fiesole born (d. 1484) 
 
 143* 
 
 Niccol6 da Uzzano died 
 
 
 
 1433 
 
 Marsilio Fkino born 
 
 
 
 
 Cosimo de' Medici banished, Oct. 3 
 
 
 
 1434 
 
 Cosimo returned to power, Sept. 29 
 
 
 
 
 Banishment of Albizzi and Strozzi 
 
 1435 
 
 Andrea Verrocchio born (d. 1488) 
 
 1433 
 
 Francesco Sforza visited Florence 
 
 
 Andrea della Robbia born (d. 1525) 
 
 1436 
 
 Brunelleschi 's dome completed 
 
 
 
 
 The Duomo consecrated 
 
 1438 
 
 Melozzo da Forli born (d. 1494) 
 
 
 
 1439 
 
 Cosimo Rosselll born (d. 1507) 
 
 1439 
 
 Council of Florence 
 
 
 
 
 Gemisthos Plethon in Florence 
 
 
 
 1440 
 
 Cosimo occupied the Medici Palace 
 
 1441 
 1442 
 
 Luca Signorelli born (d. 1323) 
 Benedetto da Maiano born (d. 1497) 
 
 
 
 1444 
 
 Sandro Botticelli born (d. 1310) 
 
 
 
 1446 
 
 Brunelleschi died 
 
 
 
 
 Perugino born (d. 1323 or 24) 
 Francesco Botticini born (d. 1498) 
 
 
 
 1449 
 
 Domenico Ghirlandaio born (d. 
 
 1449 
 
 Lorenzo de' Medfci (the Magnifi- 
 
 
 1494) 
 
 
 cent) born 
 
 1450 
 
 Gentile da Fabriano died 
 

 
 ENCE AND EUROPE, 1296-1564 
 
 373 
 
 POPES 
 
 FRENCH 
 
 KINGS 
 
 ENGLISH 
 KINGS 
 
 MILAN 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT GENERAL DATES 
 
 Innocent 
 VII 
 1406 
 Gregory 
 XII 
 
 Char 
 
 lesVI 
 
 Hen 
 
 rylV 
 
 Gian 
 Vise 
 
 Maria 
 onti 
 
 
 
 1400 
 Alex. V 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i/ 
 John. 
 
 10 
 
 oaii 
 
 
 
 14 
 Hen 
 
 ryV 
 
 J 4 
 Fill 
 Ma 
 Vise 
 
 12 
 
 ppo 
 na 
 onti 
 
 1414 
 
 Council of Constance 
 
 14 
 Man 
 
 17 
 
 inV 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Charl 
 
 22 
 53 VII 
 
 14 
 Hem 
 
 22 
 
 yVI 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1428 
 
 Siege of Orleans 
 
 Eug 
 
 r 
 
 3i 
 
 an 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1431 
 
 Joan of Arc burnt 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i43S(e-) 
 
 Hans Memling born 
 
 14 
 
 Nico 
 
 &v 
 
 
 
 
 
 14 
 
 47 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1430 
 Francesco 
 Sforza 
 
 1450 
 
 John Gutenburg printed at 
 Mainz 
 Jack Cade's Insurrection
 
 374 
 
 HISTORICAL CHART OF FLOR 
 
 ARTISTS' DATES 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT FLORENTINE DATES 
 
 1452 
 
 Leonard! da Vinci born (d. isigT 
 
 1452 
 
 Ghiberti's second gates set up 
 
 
 
 
 Savonarola born 
 
 
 
 1454 
 
 Politian born 
 
 1455 
 
 Ghibertidied 
 
 
 
 
 Fra Angelico died 
 
 
 
 1456 
 
 Lorenzo di Credi born (d. 1537) 
 
 
 
 1457 
 
 Cronaca born (d. 1508 or 9) 
 
 
 
 
 Filippino Lippi born (d. 1504) 
 Andrea del Castagno died 
 
 
 
 1462 
 1463014 
 1464 
 
 Piero di Cosimo born (d. 1521) 
 
 Desiderio da Settignano 
 Bernardo Rossellino died 
 
 1463 
 1464 
 
 Pico della Mirandola born 
 Cosimo de' Medici died and was 
 
 
 
 
 succeeded by Piero 
 
 1466 
 
 Donatello died 
 
 1466 
 
 Luca Pitti's Conspiracy 
 
 1469 
 
 Giovanni della Robbia born (d. 
 
 1469 
 
 Lorenzo's Tournament, Feb. 
 
 
 1529) 
 
 
 Lorenzo's Marriage to Clarice 
 
 
 Lippo Lippi died 
 
 
 Orsini, June 
 
 
 
 
 Death of Piero, Dec. 
 
 
 
 
 Niccolo Machiavelli born 
 
 
 
 1471 
 
 Birth of Piero de Medici, son of 
 
 
 
 
 Lorenzo 
 
 
 
 
 Visit of Galeazzo Sforza to Florence 
 
 
 
 
 Cennini's Press established in Flor- 
 
 
 
 
 ence 
 
 1472 
 
 Michelozzo died 
 
 1472 
 
 Sack of Volterra 
 
 
 Alberti died 
 
 
 
 1474 
 
 Benedetto da Rovezzano born (d. 
 
 1474 
 
 Ariosto born (d. 1533) 
 
 
 IS56) 
 Rustici born (d. 1554) 
 
 
 
 1475 
 
 Mariotto Albertinelli born (d. 1515) 
 Fra Bartolommeo born (d. 1517) 
 Michelangelo Buonarroti born (d. 
 
 1475 
 
 Giuliano's Tournament 
 
 
 1564) 
 
 
 
 
 Paolo Uccello died 
 
 
 
 477 
 
 Titian born (d. 1576) 
 
 
 
 1478 
 
 Giorgione born (d. 1510) 
 Antonio Rossellino died 
 
 1478 
 
 Pazzi Conspiracy 
 
 
 
 
 Giuliano murdered 
 
 
 
 1479 
 
 Lorenzo's Mission to Naples 
 
 1482 
 
 Francia Bigio born (d. 1525) 
 
 
 
 1483 
 
 Raphael born (d. 1520) 
 
 
 
 
 Ridolfo Ghirlandaio born (d. 1561) 
 
 
 
 1484 
 
 Mino da Fiesole died 
 
 
 
 1485 
 
 Sebastiano del Piombo born (d. 
 
 
 
 
 1547) 
 
 
 
 1486 
 1486017 
 
 Jacopo Sansovino born (d. 1570) 
 Andrea del Sarto born (d. 1531) 
 
 
 
 1488 
 
 Verrocchio died 
 
 
 
 
 Baccio Bandinelli born (d. 1560) 
 
 
 .
 
 ENCE AND EUROPE, 1296-1564 
 
 375 
 
 POPES 
 
 FRENCH 
 KINGS 
 
 ENGLISH 
 KINGS 
 
 MILAN 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT GENERAL DATES 
 
 Nice 
 
 lasV 
 
 Charl 
 
 esVII 
 
 Hen 
 
 ryVI 
 
 Francesco 
 
 Sforza 
 
 1453 
 
 Fall of Constantinople 
 
 14 
 
 Calixl 
 
 am 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1455 
 
 Beginning of the Wan of 
 the Roses 
 
 _M 
 Piu 
 
 S8 
 
 5 II 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1461 
 Louis XI 
 
 1461 
 Edward IV 
 
 
 
 
 
 1464 
 Paul II 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1466 
 Galeazzo 
 Maria 
 Sforza 
 
 1467 
 
 Erasmus born (d. 1528) 
 
 . 14 
 Surti 
 
 s'lV 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i47o(c.) 
 1471 
 
 Mabuse born (d. 1555) 
 Albert Dtirer born 
 Caxton's Press established in 
 Westminster 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 474 
 
 Ariosto bom (d. 1533) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 14 
 Gi 
 Gale 
 (Lod 
 Sfo 
 
 ni 
 
 Reg 
 
 76 
 an 
 azzo 
 jvico 
 rza 
 ioro 
 :nt) 
 
 1476 
 
 Chevalier Bayard born 
 
 M 
 
 Inno 
 VI 
 
 54 
 cent 
 II 
 
 14 
 Cha 
 
 V] 
 
 83 
 rles 
 II 
 
 14 
 
 Edwa 
 
 Richa 
 
 Henr 
 
 53 
 rdV 
 rdlll 
 55 
 jrVII 
 
 
 
 1482 
 1483 
 
 Hugo van der Goes died 
 Rabelais born (d. 1553) 
 Martin Luther born 
 Murder of the Princes in the 
 Tower 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1491 
 
 Ignatius Loyola born
 
 376 
 
 HISTORICAL CHART OF FLOR 
 
 ARTISTS' DATES 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT FLORENTINE DATES 
 
 1493 
 
 Piero della Francesca died 
 
 1492 
 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent died. 
 
 
 
 
 Piero succeeded. 
 
 1404 
 
 Jacopo da Pontormo born (d. 1536) 
 
 1494 
 
 Charles VIII invaded Italy. Piero 
 
 
 Correggio born (d. 1534) 
 Domenico Ghirlandaio died 
 
 
 banished 
 Charles VIII in Florence. Sack of 
 
 
 Melozzo da Forli died 
 
 
 Medici Palace 
 
 
 
 
 Florence governed by General 
 
 
 
 
 Council 
 
 
 
 
 Savonarola in power 
 
 
 
 
 Politian died 
 
 
 
 
 Pico della Mirandola died 
 
 1497 
 
 Benedetto da Maiano died 
 
 1497 
 
 Francesco Valori elected Gonfa- 
 
 
 Benozzo Gozzoli died 
 
 
 loniere 
 
 
 
 
 Piero attempted to return to Flor- 
 
 
 
 
 ence 
 
 1498 
 
 Antonio Pollaiuolo died 
 
 1498 
 
 Savonarola burnt 
 
 
 Francesco Botticini died 
 
 
 
 1499 
 
 Alessio Baldovinetti died 
 
 1499 
 
 Marsilio Ficino died 
 
 1500 
 
 Benvenuto Cellini born (d. 1572) 
 
 
 Amerigo Vespucci reached America 
 
 1502 
 
 Angelo Bronzino born (d. 1572) 
 
 1502 
 1503 
 
 Death of Piero di Medici 
 
 1504 
 
 Filippino Lippi died 
 
 
 
 1506 
 
 Mantegna died 
 
 
 
 1507 
 
 Cosimo Rosselli died 
 
 
 / 
 
 1508 
 
 Cronaca died 
 
 
 
 1510 
 
 Botticelli died 
 
 
 
 
 Giorgione died 
 
 
 
 IS" 
 
 Vasari born (d. 1574) 
 
 1512 
 
 Cardinal Giovanni and Giuliano, 
 
 
 
 
 Duke of Nemours, reinstated 
 
 
 
 
 in Florence 
 
 
 
 
 Great Council abolished 
 
 ISIS 
 
 Albertinelli died 
 
 
 
 1516 
 
 Giovanni Bellini died 
 
 
 
 ISI7 
 
 Fra Bartolommeo died 
 
 
 
 1518 
 ISIQ 
 
 Tintoretto born (d. 1594) 
 Leonardo da Vinci died 
 
 ISI9 
 
 Cardinal Giulio de'_Medici in power 
 Catherine de' Medici born 
 
 1520 
 
 Raphael died 
 
 
 
 1521 
 
 Piero di Cosimo died 
 
 
 
 IS23 
 
 Signorelli died 
 
 
 
 1524 
 
 Perugino died 
 Giovanni da Bologna born (d. 1608) 
 
 1524 
 
 Ippolito and Alessandro de' Medici 
 
 
 
 
 in power 
 
 IS2S 
 
 Andrea della Robbia died 
 Francia Bigio died 
 
 1526 
 1527 
 
 Death of Giovanni delle Bande Nere 
 Ippolito and Alessandro left Flor- 
 
 
 
 
 ence 
 
 1528 
 
 Paolo Veronese born (d. 1588) 
 
 1528 
 
 Machiavelli died 
 
 
 Federigo Baroccio born (d. 1580) 
 

 
 ENCE AND EUROPE, 1296-1564 
 
 377 
 
 POPES 
 
 FRENCH 
 KINGS 
 
 ENGLISH 
 
 KINGS 
 
 MILAN 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT GENERAL DATES 
 
 1492 
 Alex. VI 
 
 Charles 
 VIII 
 
 Henr 
 
 vVII 
 
 Gian 
 
 Galeazzo 
 
 1492 
 
 America discovered by Chris- 
 topher Columbus 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Lodovico 
 Sforza 
 
 1494 
 
 Lucas van Leyden born (d. 
 1533) 
 
 
 
 T X * 
 
 Louif 
 
 98 
 XII 
 
 
 
 U99 
 Exile of 
 Lodovico 
 
 
 
 is 
 
 Pius 
 Julh 
 
 3 
 III 
 is II 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1505 
 
 John Knox bom (d. 1582) 
 
 
 
 
 
 is 
 
 Henrj 
 
 09 
 VIII 
 
 
 1500 
 
 John Calvin born 
 
 
 
 : 3 x 
 
 Frai 
 
 CIS I 
 
 
 
 
 1516 
 
 More's Utopia written 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ISI9 
 
 1519-21 
 1520 
 
 First Voyage round the world 
 (Ferd. Magellan) 
 Conquest of Mexico 
 Field of the Cloth of Gold 
 
 1522 
 
 Hadrian VI 
 1523 
 Clement 
 VII 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 15*7 
 
 Brantome born (d. 1614) 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I58 
 
 Albert DUrer died
 
 378 
 
 HISTORICAL CHART OF FLOR 
 
 ARTISTS' DATES 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT FLORENTINE DATES 
 
 1529 
 1531 
 i 534 
 1537 
 
 1547 
 
 1554 
 J556 
 
 1560 
 1561 
 
 1564 
 
 Giovanni dclla Robbia died 
 Andrea del Sarto died 
 Correggio died 
 Credi died 
 
 Sebastiano del Piombo died 
 
 Rustici died 
 
 Pontormo died 
 
 Benedetto da Rovezzano died 
 
 Baccio Bandinelli died 
 Ridolfo Ghirlandaio died 
 
 Michelangelo died 
 
 1520- 
 30 
 1530 
 
 1537 
 
 1539 
 
 1553 
 
 1564 
 
 Siege of Florence 
 Capitulation of Florence 
 Alessandro de' Medici declared 
 Head of the Republic 
 
 Cosimo de' Medici made Ruler of 
 
 Florence 
 
 Battle of Montemurlo 
 Lorenzino assassinated in Venice 
 Cosimo married Eleanora di Toledo 
 
 and moved to Palazzo Vecchio 
 
 Cosimo occupied the Pitti Palace 
 
 Galfleo Galilei born
 
 ENCE AND EUROPE, 1296-1564 
 
 379 
 
 POPES 
 
 FRENCH 
 KINGS 
 
 ENGLISH 
 KINGS 
 
 MILAN 
 
 SOME IMPORTANT GENERAL DATES 
 
 Clement 
 VII 
 
 Fran 
 
 cis I 
 
 Hear) 
 
 'Viii 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1531-2 
 
 Conquest of Peru 
 
 Pau 
 
 In 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1533 
 1535 
 
 Montaigne born (d. 1592) 
 
 Henry VIII became Supreme 
 Head of the Church 
 
 
 ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1544 
 
 Torquato Tasso born 
 
 
 
 Henry II 
 
 IS47 
 Edward VI 
 
 
 
 
 1550 
 
 Julius III 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1555 
 Marcellus 
 II 
 Paul IV 
 
 pJSSv 
 
 Fran 
 Char? 
 
 n 
 
 60 
 
 :s IX 
 
 a 
 
 15 
 
 Eliza 
 
 S3 
 iry 
 
 leth 
 
 
 1553 
 1554 
 
 1556 
 IS58 
 
 Edmund Spenser born 
 Execution of Lady Jane Grey 
 Sir Philip Sidney born 
 Ridley, Latimer, Cranmer 
 burnt 
 Calais recaptured by the 
 French 
 
 
 
 
 
 1564 
 
 Shakespeare born
 
 INDEX 
 
 "ABUNDANCE," by Donatello, 268, 
 
 313. 
 
 Accademia, the, 224-41. 
 Acciaioli family, and the Certosa, 
 
 243. 
 
 Albany, the Countess of, 212. 
 Alberti, Leon Battista, his tomb 
 and career, 218. 
 
 his Rucellai palace and chapel, 
 
 290-91. 
 
 and S. Maria Novella, 297. 
 
 Albertinelli, Mariotto, 119, 146, 
 
 236. 
 Alessandro, bastard son of Giulio 
 
 de' Medici, 63, 65, 335. 
 Alexander VI and Savonarola, 262. 
 Alfieri, his tomb, 212. 
 Allori, Cristofano, 336, 339. 
 Ambrogio, S., 180. 
 "Amico di Sandro," 139, 338. 
 Ammanati, 99, 327. 
 Andersen, Hans Christian, 317. 
 Angelico, Fra, at the Uffizi, 118, 
 
 148. 
 
 at S. Domenico, 168. 
 
 at the Accademia, 227-30, 
 
 235. 
 
 his life, 228. 
 
 at S. Marco, 257-8. 
 
 Annunziata, SS., church of, 275-8. 
 Antiquities, the museum of, 281-3. 
 Antonio, S., the "Good Arch- 
 bishop," 258-60, 266. 
 Apostoli, SS., church of, 294. 
 Aquinas, S. Thomas, 309. 
 Arnolfo and the Duomo, 4. 
 and S. Croce, 209. 
 Arte della Lana, 95. 
 Artists' names, 133. 
 
 Austrian Grand Dukes, the, and the 
 Uffizi, 111. 
 
 BADIA of Fiesole, the, 168. 
 
 of Florence, the, 170. 
 Baldovinetti, Alessio, his career, 
 
 300. 
 
 at S. Trinita, 323. 
 
 at S. Miniato, 365. 
 
 Bande Nere, Giovanni delle, 66, 72. 
 Bandinelli, his "Hercules and 
 
 Cacus," 98. 
 
 and Michelangelo's cartoon, 105. 
 Bandini, Bernado, 17, 19. 
 Baptistery, the, its mosaics, 41. 
 and Dante, 41. 
 
 its doors, 43-7. 
 
 Bardi family, the, 217. 
 Bargello, the, 182-205. 
 Baroccio, Federigo, 155. 
 Bartolommeo, Fra, at the Uffizi, 
 119, 148. 
 
 at the Accademia, 235. 
 
 his career, 236. 
 
 and Savonarola, 265, 266. 
 
 at the Pitti, 330, 331, 332, 
 
 338. 
 
 Beatrice and Dante, 174. 
 Bellini, Giovanni, 123. 
 Berenson, Mr., and "Amico di 
 
 Sandro," 139, 338. 
 Bigallo, the, 90. 
 Boateri, Jacopo de', 338. 
 Boboli gardens, the, 341. 
 Boccaccino, Boccaccio, 336. 
 Boccaccio and the Villa Palmieri, 
 
 164. 
 
 and S. Maria Novella, 298. 
 Bologna, Gian, 99. 
 
 381
 
 382 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Bologna at the Bargello, 198. 
 and Duke Ferdinand, 279. 
 
 Giovanni, at the Boboli, 342. 
 Botticelli, his Pazzi cartoon, 19. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 132-44. 
 
 at the Accademia, 138, 237, 239. 
 
 and Savonarola, 139-41. 
 Botticelli, his S. Augustine, 289. 
 
 at the Corsini, 292. 
 
 and the Pitti, 338, 341. 
 Botticini, 165. 
 
 and various descriptions, 240. 
 
 at the Pitti, 339. 
 Bracciolini ("Poggio"), 14. 
 Brancacci, Chapel, at the Carmine, 
 
 135, 361. 
 Branconi, Alfred, the guide, 186, 
 
 210. 
 Bronzino at the Uffizi, 146, 155, 
 
 159. 
 
 his Accademia tapestries, 241. 
 
 at the Pitti, 339. 
 
 Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, her 
 grave, 285. 
 
 Robert, at Vallombrosa, 249. 
 and "The Statue and the 
 
 Bust," 279. 
 
 and Landor, 352, 353. 
 
 Brownings, the, in Florence, 344-5. 
 Brunelleschi, his career, 8. 
 
 and the Duomo, 9. 
 
 and Florence, 10, 11. 
 
 his lantern model, 35. 
 
 and S. Lorenzo, 74. 
 
 his Baptistery competition re- 
 
 lief, 197. 
 
 and Donatello's crucifix, 217. 
 
 and the Pazzi chapel, 221. 
 
 and the Pitti, 326. 
 
 and S. Spirito, 358. 
 
 Bruni, Leonardo, his tomb, 213. 
 "Brutus" of Michelangelo, 189. 
 Buffalmacco, 171. 
 Bugiardini, 338. 
 Buonuomini, the, 260. 
 
 "CALUMNY, The," by Botticelli, 
 
 140. 
 Campanile, the, its growth, 2. 
 
 Campanile, its statues, 38. 
 
 its reliefs, 39. 
 
 the view from the top, 40. 
 
 Charles V's comment, 64. 
 
 compared with Palazzo Veo- 
 
 chio tower, 97. 
 
 Capella, Bianca, her story, 356-8. 
 "Capparo, II," 53. 
 Capponi, Piero, and the bells, 97. 
 Carmine, the, and Michelangelo, 80. 
 
 the church of, 358-61. 
 Carpaccio, 123. 
 Carrand Collection, 195. 
 "Casa Guidi," 344. 
 Cascine, the, 286-8. 
 Castagno, Andrea del, 255. 
 Cavalcanti, Guido, 175. 
 Charles V and Clement VII, 64. 
 Charles VIII and Florence, 261, 263. 
 Cellini, Benvenuto, and Cosimo I, 
 
 68. 
 
 his Autobiography, 103. 
 
 his "Perseus," 103. 
 
 at the Bargello, 198. 
 
 Cennini, Bernardo, 318. 
 
 Certosa, the, 242-4. 
 
 Cimabue and the history of art, 231. 
 
 at the Accademia, 231. 
 
 at S. Maria Novella, 305. 
 Clement VII. See Guilio de' 
 
 Medici. 
 
 Correggio, at the Uffizi, 150. 
 Corsini palace, the, 292. 
 Cosimo, Piero di, his carrier, 271. 
 Council, the, of 1439, 23-5, 54. 
 Credi, Lorenzo di, 120, 125, 131. 
 Croce, S., 207-23, 297. 
 Cronaca, his Great Council Hall, 
 
 104. 
 
 DANTE and the Duomo, 5. 
 
 and Giotto, 6, 7. 
 
 his picture in the Duomo, 13. 
 
 the Italian Dante Society, 95. 
 
 his life-story, 173-7. 
 
 and modern Florence, 177. 
 
 his alleged house, 177. 
 
 painted by Giotto, 184. 
 
 his memorial, 207.
 
 INDEX 
 
 383 
 
 Davanzati, Palazzo, 318. 
 David of Michelangelo, 98, 225. 
 
 as a Florentine hero, 186. 
 Dickens in Florence, 179, 355. 
 Dolci, Carlo, 152, 292. 
 Dominic, 8., and S. Marco, 257, 
 
 266. 
 
 and S. Maria Novella, 308. 
 Donatello, his "Poggio," 14. 
 
 his Duomo cantoria, 32-3. 
 
 at Prato, 33, 250. 
 
 his campanile statues, 38. 
 
 and Michelozzo at the Baptis- 
 
 tery, 42. 
 
 and the Baptistery doors, 45. 
 
 his "Judith and Holofernes," 
 
 61, 102. 
 
 and S. Lorenzo, 73-6. 
 
 and Or San Michele, 94. 
 Donatello, his "Marzocco," 99. 
 
 and Uccello, 130, 192. 
 
 and the antiques, 160. 
 
 a wayside relief, 181. 
 
 at the Bargello, 187, 191-5. 
 
 his "Davids" considered, 187. 
 
 his life, 191-3. 
 
 his S. Croce "Annunciation," 
 
 213. 
 
 and Brunelleschi's crucifix, 217. 
 
 and the Capella Pazzi, 221. 
 
 at the Capella Medici, 221. 
 
 and his figure of "Abundance," 
 
 268, 313. 
 
 at S. Marco, 268. 
 Donati, Corso, 174. 
 Doni, Angelo, 125, 331. 
 Doasi, Dosso, 335, 339. 
 Drawings in the Uffizi, 115. 
 Duccio, Agostino di, 34. 
 Duomo, the, first impressions, 2. 
 its beginnings, 4. 
 
 its glass, 25. 
 
 its spell, 26. 
 
 its museum, 32. 
 
 Durer, at the Ufl&zi, 149, 157. 
 
 at the Pitti, 335. 
 
 EQIDIO, S., 181. 
 
 English Cemetery, the, 285. 
 
 Etruscan remains at Fiesole, 167. 
 the Museum of Antiqui- 
 ties, 281. 
 
 FABRIANO, Gentile da, 233. 
 Fabris, Emilio de, 11. 
 Ficino, Marsilio, 235-55. 
 
 in S. Maria Novella fresco, 
 
 303. 
 
 Fields, Mrs., and Landor, 353. 
 Fiesole, 163-7. 
 
 Mino da, at Fiesole, 166. 
 
 his tombs in the Badia, 171. 
 
 his death, 172. 
 
 his grave, 180. 
 
 his tabernacle, 180. 
 
 a wayside relief, 181. 
 
 at the Bargello, 201. 
 
 Flemish painters at the Uffizi, 152- 
 
 64. 
 Florence and the Renaissance, 1. 
 
 its noises, 2. 
 
 Florence, its wealth in the four- 
 teenth century, 36. 
 
 from the Campanile, 40. 
 
 its history evaded, 51. 
 
 and the Medici, 70. 
 
 its guilds, 95. 
 
 charges for museums and gal- 
 
 leries, 113. 
 
 its music hall, 314. 
 
 its restaurants, 316. 
 
 its survivals from the past, 320- 
 
 21. 
 
 Florentines, illustrious, their Uffizi 
 statues, 112, 113. 
 
 their character, 314-6. 
 Forli, Melozzo da, 146. 
 "Fortitude," by Botticelli, 144. 
 Francesca, Piero della, 147. 
 Francesco de' Vanchetoni, S., 
 
 church of, 291. 
 Franchetti Collection, 204. 
 Franciabigio at the Uffizi, 150. 
 
 at the Chiostro dello Scalzo, 270. 
 
 at SS. Annunziata, 275. 
 
 his career, 275. 
 
 Francis I of France and Italian 
 artists, 129, 274.
 
 384 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Francis, S., and the S. Croce pulpit, 
 
 210. 
 
 frescoes, 216. 
 
 his robe at SS. Ognissanti, 
 
 289. 
 in fresco, 323. 
 
 GADDI, Taddeo, his "Last Supper," 
 223. 
 
 and the Ponte Vecchio, 294. 
 
 Galileo, his tomb, 219. 
 
 relics of, 356. 
 Gemisthos, Georgius, 24, 55. 
 "George, S.," of Donatello, 193. 
 Gesti Morto, procession at Gras- 
 
 sina, 250-3. 
 Ghiberti and Brunelleschi, 9. 
 
 and the Duomo, 10. 
 
 and S. Zenobius, 22. 
 
 and his Baptistery doors, 43-7, 
 
 197. 
 
 and Or San Michele, 94, 95. 
 
 his workshop, 182. 
 
 his S. Croce window, 208. 
 Ghiberti, his birthplace, 246. 
 Ghirlandaio, Domenico, and Mi- 
 chelangelo, 78. 
 
 his Palazzo Vecchio fresco, 
 
 106. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 124. 
 
 at the Accademia, 234. 
 
 at S. Marco, 267. 
 
 at S. Trinita, 270, 321-3. 
 
 at the Spedale, 280. 
 
 his S. Jerome, 289. 
 
 his SS. Ognissanti "Last 
 
 Supper," 290. 
 
 his life, 299-304. 
 
 his S. Maria Novella frescoes, 
 
 302-4. 
 
 Ridolfo, 145, 329, 339. 2.V7 
 Giorgio, S., its gate, 363. 
 Giorgione at the Uffizi, 121. 
 
 at the Pitti, 329. 
 
 Giotto and the Renaissance, 1. 
 
 and the holy water receptacle, 
 
 4. 
 
 his career, 6. 
 
 his humour, 7. 
 
 Giotto, his Campanile begun, 36. 
 and the Campanile reliefs, 39. 
 
 his portrait of Dante, 184. 
 
 his S. Croce frescoes, 215, 216. 
 
 his Capella Medici painting, 
 
 221. 
 
 and the history of art, 232. 
 
 at the Accademia, 232. 
 
 at S. Maria Novella, 310. 
 
 and Ghirlandaio, 323. 
 
 and Raphael, 332. 
 
 and Masaccio, 359. 
 
 Goes, Hugo van der, his triptych, 
 
 152. 
 Gozzoli, Benozzo, his Medici palace 
 
 frescoes, 54-6. 
 Granacci, Francesco, 120. 
 Grassina, the procession of Gesto 
 
 Morto, 250-3. 
 
 Great Council Hall, the, 104-7. 
 Grosso, Niccol6, his eccentricities, 
 
 53. 
 Gualberto, S. Giovanni, and Val- 
 
 lombrosa, 248. 
 
 his crucifix, 321. 
 
 his conversion, 366. 
 Guilds, the, of Florence, 95. 
 
 HAWKWOOD, Sir John, 14. 
 Hazlitt calls on Landor, 348. 
 "Hercules and Cacus," 98. 
 Honthorst, Gerard, 156. 
 
 IGNOTO, his good paintii.g, 128, 236. 
 
 his good sculpture, 200. 
 Impruneta and its della Robbias, 
 
 245. 
 Iscrizioni at the Uffizi, 160. 
 
 JACOPO of Portugal, Cardinal, his 
 
 tomb, 365. 
 
 Joanna of Austria, 103. 
 John XXIII, his monument, 42. 
 Judas in fresco, 223, 255, 290. 
 "Judith and Holofernes," by Dona- 
 tello, 102. 
 
 by Botticelli, 186. 
 
 Julius II and Michelangelo, 81, 
 
 226, 342.
 
 INDEX 
 
 385 
 
 Julius II, his portrait by Raphael, 
 149, 292, 335. 
 
 LANDO, Michele, 318. 
 
 Landor, Walter Savage, his grave, 
 
 285. 
 
 his career, 346-54. 
 
 Laurenziana, Biblioteca, 88. 
 Lely. Sir Peter, 157, 339. 
 Leo X. See Giovanni de' Medici. 
 Lippi, Filippino, at the Uffizi, 127, 
 
 146, 148. 
 
 his portrait by Botticelli, 135. 
 
 at the Badia, 170. 
 
 at Prato, 250. 
 
 at the Corsini, 292. 
 
 at S. Maria Novella, 306. 
 
 at the Pitti, 337. 
 
 Fra Lippo, and S. Lorenzo, 74. 
 at the Uffizi, 124. 
 
 at the Accademia, 230, 238. 
 
 at Prato, 250. 
 
 at the Corsini, 292. 
 
 Loggia de' Lanzi, 101. 
 Lorenzo, S., its facade, 71. 
 
 its treasures, 73-88. 
 
 the cloisters, 87. 
 
 Louvre, the, and Uccello, 192. 
 
 its Renaissance sculpture, 205. 
 
 and Ghirlandaio, 300. 
 
 and Leonardo, 340. 
 
 Lowell, James Russell, in Florence, 
 345. 
 
 MACHIAVELLI, his tomb, 213. 
 
 at S. Casciano, 244. 
 "Madonna del Cardellino," by 
 
 Raphael, 150. 
 
 "Madonna del Granduca," by 
 Raphael, 330. 
 
 " Madonna del Pozzo," by Francia- 
 bigio, 150. 
 
 "Madonna del Sacco," by Andrea 
 del Sarto, 278. 
 
 "Madonna della Sedia," by Ra- 
 phael, 331. 
 
 Maiano, Benedetto da, and the 
 Duomo, 11. 
 
 at the Bargello, 199. 
 
 2c 
 
 Maiano, his S. Croce pulpit, 210. 
 
 at S. Maria Novella, 306. 
 
 and Ghirlandaio, 322. 
 
 Giuliano da, 11. 
 
 Mainardi, Bastiano, and Ghirlan- 
 daio, 300. 
 Mantegna, Andrea, at the Uffizi, 122. 
 
 at the Pitti, 339. 
 Marco, S., Museo of, 256-68. 
 
 church of, 268-70. 
 
 Market, the Old, 217, 313. 
 
 the New, 317. 
 Maria Nuova, S., 181. 
 
 Novella, S., church of, 297-311. 
 Marsuppini, Carlo, his tomb, 219. 
 Martini, Simone, 118. 
 Marzocco, the, 99, 195. 
 Masaccio and the Baptistery doors, 
 
 45. 
 
 and Michelangelo, 80. 
 
 and the history of art, 232. 
 
 at the Accademia, 239. 
 
 at S. Maria Novella, 305. 
 
 his Carmine frescoes, 358-61. 
 
 his life, 359. 
 Masolino, 359. 
 
 Medals at the Bargello, 202. 
 Medici, Alessandro de', son of 
 Clement VII, 63. 
 
 his triumph, 65. 
 
 his death, 66. 
 
 Anna Maria Ludovica, 69. 
 de', 111. 
 
 Medici, Catherine de', 62? 
 
 Clarice de', 324. . 
 
 Clement VII, son of Giuliano de' 
 
 Medici, 63. 
 
 his intrigues, 63. 
 
 and Charles V, 64. 
 
 and Michelangelo, 83. 
 
 Cosimo de', "Father of his 
 
 Country," and the Great 
 
 Council, 23. 
 
 his rule and character, 57-9. 
 
 his favourite church, 72. 
 
 his tomb, 72. 
 
 and S. Marco, 256-8. 
 
 Cosimo I, his character and rule, 
 
 67-9.
 
 386 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Medici, his atatue, 100. 
 
 and Etruscan remains, 282. 
 
 his column, 323. 
 
 and the Strozzi, 325. 
 
 Francis I de', and Bianca Ca- 
 
 pella, 356-8. 
 
 Gian Gastone de', 327. 
 
 Giovanni de', "II Bicci," 44, 56, 
 
 75, 296. 
 (Leo X), son of Lorenzo, the 
 
 magnificent, 62. 
 
 and Michelangelo, 82. 
 
 made a cardinal, 168. 
 
 his christening, 303. 
 
 his portrait, 334. 
 
 Giuliano de', his death, 18. 
 
 and Botticelli, 138, 139, 142. 
 
 Duke of Nemours, 62. 
 
 his tomb, 84, 
 
 Giulio de' (Clement VII), his 
 
 illegitimate son, 63. 
 
 and Florence, 64. 
 
 and Charles V, 64, 83. 
 
 and Michelangelo, 83. 
 
 his character, 334. 
 
 Ippolito de', 65. 
 
 his portrait and career, 336. 
 
 Lorenzino de', as Brutus, 66. 
 
 Lorenzo de', "The Magnificent," 
 
 and the Pazzi Conspiracy, 
 16-19. 
 
 his rule and character, 59- 
 
 61. 
 
 his descendants, 66. 
 
 and Michelangelo, 80. 
 
 his tomb, 85. 
 
 Medici, Lorenzo de', and his tour- 
 naments, 137-9, 207. 
 
 and Savonarola, 261. 
 
 and Botticelli, 341. 
 
 Duke of Urbino, 62. 
 
 his tomb, 84. 
 
 Piero de', "II Gottoso," and 
 
 Gozzoli, 55. 
 
 his rule and character, 59. 
 
 and Botticelli, 134-6. 
 
 and SS. Annunziata, 277. 
 
 Piero di Lorenzo de', 61, 139. 
 
 Capella, the, at S. Croce, 220. 
 
 Medici, gardens, the, 270. 
 
 Grand Dukes and their tombs, 
 
 76. 
 
 Palazzo, its vicissitudes, 52. 
 
 its frescoes, 54-6. 
 
 and Landor, 347. 
 
 Palle, the, 30, 53. 
 
 the, as picture collectors, 110, 
 
 111. 
 
 Villa, the, 165. 
 Medusa, the head of, 158. 
 Memmi, Lippo, 118. 
 Michelangelo, his last Pieta, 21. 
 
 and the S. Lorenzo facade, 71. 
 
 his S. Lorenzo sacristy, 77, 78, 
 
 83-6. 
 
 his career, 78-86. 
 
 and the Julius tomb, 81, 226, 342. 
 
 his "David," 98, 225. 
 
 his house, 87. 
 
 his historical cartoon, 105. 
 
 and Angelo Doni, 125. 
 
 and Luca Signorelli, 125. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 125. 
 
 at the Bargello, 185-90. 
 
 his tomb at S. Croce, 211. 
 
 at the Accademia, 225-7. 
 
 and Andrea del Sarto, 273. 
 
 his Piazzale, 363. 
 
 Michele, Giovanni di, at S. Croce, 
 
 220. 
 Michelozzo, his Prato pulpit, 33. 
 
 his statue of the Baptist, 34. 
 
 at the Baptistery, 42. 
 
 and Or San Michele, 94, 95. 
 
 at SS. Annunziata, 277, 278. 
 Milton, John, at Vallombrosa, 247. 
 in Florence, 346. 
 
 Miniato, S., the church of, 364-6. 
 Mirandola, Pico della, at the Badia 
 of Fiesole, 168. 
 
 his career, 268. 
 
 Misericordia, the, 91. 
 Monaco, Lorenzo, 117. 
 Montefeltro, Federigo da, Duke of 
 Urbino, 147. 
 
 NATIONAL Gallery compared with 
 Florence galleries, 340.
 
 INDEX 
 
 387 
 
 Natural History Museum, 355. 
 Nicholas V and S. Marco, 256. 
 Niobe and her children, 100. 
 Nori, Francesco, 212. 
 
 OGNISSANTI, SS., church of, 289. 
 "Old Pictures in Florence," by 
 
 Browning, 345. 
 
 Orcagna, Andrea, and Or San 
 Michele, 92. 
 
 his Loggia, 101. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 120. 
 
 at S. Maria Novella, 307. 
 
 Or San Michele, 91-5. 
 
 PAINTING, the evolution of, 231, 359. 
 Palaces, the old, 178. 
 Pallone, the game of, 287. 
 Palmieri, Villa, the, 164. 
 
 and Botticelli, 165. 
 Paolo, S., Loggia of, 311. 
 Passage between Pitti and Uffizi, 
 
 110, 115, 327. 
 Pater, Walter, on Botticelli, 142. 
 
 or Giorgione, 329. 
 
 Pazzi Conspiracy, the, 16-20. 
 
 the, and the Holy Land, 27. 
 
 and the Scoppio del Carro, 27. 
 
 Chapel, the, 221. 
 
 Jacopo de', his disinterment, 
 
 222. 
 
 S. Maria Maddalena de', 284. 
 Pelago, 246. 
 
 "Perseus," by Cellini, 102, 198. 
 Perugino at the Accademia, 237. 
 
 his triptych and life, 284. 
 
 at the Pitti, 331, 338. 
 Peruzzi family, the, 217. 
 Piazza della Signoria, 96-103. 
 
 di S. Croce, 207. 
 
 di S. Maria Novella, 311. 
 
 Vittorio Emmanuele, 313. 
 Piazzale Michelangelo, 363. 
 Piombo, Sebastian del, 150, 339. 
 Piozzi, Mrs., quoted, 212, 292. 
 Pisano, Andrea, and the Duomo, 8. 
 
 and the Campanile reliefs, 39. 
 
 his Baptistery doors, 43. 
 
 Niccola, 4. 
 
 Pitti, Luca, his revolt, 134. 
 326. 
 
 Palace, the, 326-43. 
 
 the, its best picture, 329. 
 
 the royal apartments, 340. 
 
 Platonic Academy, the, 24, 168, 
 
 290. 
 
 "Poggio." See Bracciolini. 
 Politian and the Pazzi conspiracy, 
 
 19. 
 
 his "Giostra," 137. 
 
 and the death of Lorenzo, 261. 
 
 his career, 269. 
 
 in S. Maria Novella fresco, 303. 
 Pollaiuolo, Antonio, his Baptist re- 
 lief, 34. 
 
 and Ghiberti, 46. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 144. 
 
 at the Bargello, 199. 
 
 at S. Marco, 267. 
 
 at the Pitti, 338, 339. 
 
 Pontassieve, 246. 
 Ponte Trinita, 292. 
 
 Vecchio, 294. 
 Porta S. Giorgio, 363. 
 
 Miniato, 363. 
 
 Niccol6, 364. 
 
 Romana, 363. 
 
 Portigiani, Pagno di Lapo, 34, 42. 
 "Primavera," by Botticelli, 137, 
 
 237. 
 Portinari, Folco, 181. 
 
 Tommaso, 152. 
 
 Prato, Donatello's pulpit at, 33. 
 
 its treasures, 249. 
 Pretender, the Young, 212. 
 
 RAPHAEL as architect, 100. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 149, 150. 
 
 and Andrea del Sarto, 273. 
 
 at the Corsini, 292. 
 
 at the Pitti, 329, 330, 331, 333, 
 
 334, 335. 
 Rembrandt, 159. 
 
 at the Pitti, 333. 
 Renaissance, the, 1, 25. 
 Reni, Guido, 292, 336. 
 
 Robbia, Andrea della, at S. Egidio, 
 181.
 
 388 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Robbia, at the Bargello, 203. 
 
 at S. Croce, 214. 
 
 in the Capella Medici, 221. 
 
 at the Pazzi chapel, 222. 
 
 at S. Marco, 267. 
 
 at the Spedale, 280. 
 
 Luca, his Duomo doors, 20. 
 
 his Duomo reliefs, 20. 
 
 his cantoria, 32-3, 33-96. 
 
 and the Campanile, 39. 
 
 and the Baptistery doors, 45. 
 
 and Or San Michele, 95. 
 
 his art and genius, 202-4. 
 
 della, and Raphael, 332. 
 
 Robbias, della, at Impruneta, 245. 
 at SS. Apostoli, 294. 
 
 at S. Maria Novella, 307. 
 
 at S. Paolo, 311. 
 
 at S. Trinita, 321. 
 
 at S. Miniato, 365. 
 
 Robinson, Crabb, and Landor, 438. 
 Romano, Giulio, 339. 
 "Romola" and Savonarola, 265. 
 
 and Florence, 362. 
 Rosa, Salvator, 339. 
 
 Roselli, Cosimo, 120, 130, 146, 180. 
 Rossellino, Antonio, 200. 
 
 a boy's head, 291. 
 
 his tomb at S. Miniato, 365. 
 
 Bernardo, his Madonna at S. 
 
 Croce, 211. 
 
 Rossini, his tomb, 213. 
 Rovere, Vittoria della, 154. 
 Rovezzano, Benedetto da, 190. 
 
 at S. Trinita, 321. 
 
 Rubens at the Uffizi, 154, 156. 
 
 at the Pitti, 333, 335. 
 Rucellai family, 290, 297. 
 Ruskin and Giotto, 7, 310. 
 at S. Maria Novella, 310. 
 
 and the Campanile, 39. 
 
 and S. Croce, 209. 
 Rustici, his career, 48. 
 
 his Baptistery group, 49. 
 
 SALVATORE, S., the church of, 365. 
 Salviati, Archbishop, 16, 18. 
 San Giovanni, Giovanni di, 157, 
 169, 182. 
 
 Sansovino, Andrea, 199. 
 
 Jacopo, 200. 
 
 Sansovino, Jacopo, and Andrea del 
 Sarto, 272. 
 
 Sarto, Andrea del, and his con- 
 fectionery, 48. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 145. 
 
 at the Accademia, 231, 239. 
 
 at the Chiostro dello Scalzo, 
 
 270. 
 
 his career, 271-4. 
 
 at SS. Annunziata, 275, 278. 
 
 his house, 281. 
 
 at the Pitti, 329, 330, 331, 
 
 332, 333, 334, 337. 
 
 his copy of Raphael, 335. 
 
 Sassetti family, 321. 
 
 Savonarola, his terrible eloquence, 
 22. 
 
 his statue, 106. 
 
 his prison, 108. 
 
 and Botticelli, 139-41. 
 
 his intaglio portrait, 149, 151. 
 
 and Fra Bartolommeo, 236, 265, 
 
 266. 
 
 his career, 260-66. 
 Scoppio del Carro, the, 27-32. 
 Seghers, Hercules, 159. 
 Sellaio, Jacopo del, 338. 
 Settignano, 167. 
 
 Desiderio da, and S. Lorenzo, 
 
 74. 
 
 his S. Croce tomb, 219. 
 
 and the Pazzi chapel, 221. 
 
 on Good Friday, 252. 
 
 a boy's head, 291. 
 
 at S. Trinita, 321. 
 
 Shelley, Percy Bysshe, his ancestor, 
 
 15. 
 
 and the Medusa, 158. 
 
 in Florence, 286. 
 
 Signorelli, Luca, at the Uffizi, 126. 
 
 his life, 126. 
 
 his wild flowers, 127. 
 
 at the Accademia, 238. 
 
 Signoria, Piazza della, and Savona- 
 rola, 264. 
 Simonetta, 137-9. 
 Sixtus IV and the Medici, 16.
 
 INDEX 
 
 389 
 
 Sogliani, Gio Antonio, 120. 
 Spanish Chapel, the, 308. 
 Spedale degli Innocenti, 280. 
 Spini family, 322. 
 Spirito, S., church of, 358. 
 "Statue and the Bust, The," by 
 
 Browning, 344. 
 Stefano, S., church of, 295. 
 Storia Naturale, Museo di, 355. 
 Strozzi, Clarice, at the Medici 
 
 palace, 64. 
 
 Filippo, his tomb, 306. 
 
 Palazzo, 324. 
 Sustermans at the Uffizi, 154. 
 
 at the Pitti, 329. 
 
 TACCA, Pietro, at the Bargello, 
 199. 
 
 and John of Bologna, 279. 
 
 his boar, 317. 
 
 Talenti and the Campanile, 37. 
 
 and S. Maria Novella, 297. 
 Tapestries at the Bargello, 204. 
 
 at the Accademia, 241. 
 
 at the Museum of Antiquities, 
 
 283. 
 Tintoretto at the Uffizi, 123. 
 
 at the Pitti, 332, 333, 339. 
 Titian at the Uffizi, 122, 149. 
 
 at the Pitti, 332, 334, 336, 339. 
 Toledo, Eleanora da, and her burial 
 
 dress, 77. 
 
 her portrait, 155. 
 
 and the Spanish chapel, 308. 
 
 Tornabuoni, Giovanni, and Ghir- 
 
 landaio, 302. 
 
 Lorenzo, 303. 
 
 Lucrezia, wife of Piero de' 
 
 Medici, 136. 
 Torrigiano and Michelangelo's 
 
 nose, 80. 
 Trinita, S., church of, 321. 
 
 UBERTINI, 338. 
 
 Uccello, Paolo, his picture of Sir 
 John Hawkwood, 14. 
 
 and Ghiberti, 46. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 130. 
 
 and Dwnatello, 130, 192. 
 
 Uffizi, the, 109-62. 
 
 its structure, 109. 
 
 its collectors, 110-12. 
 
 its portico statues, 112-3. 
 
 best picture, 116. 
 
 its autograph portraits, 151. 
 
 Uzzano, Niccold da, 57, 296. 
 
 VACCA, II, 97. 
 Vallombrosa, 245-9. 
 Van Dyck at the Uffizi, 149, 150, 
 155. 
 
 at the Pitti, 334. 
 
 Vasari on Giotto, 7. 
 
 on Brunelleschi, 10. 
 
 and Michelangelo, 21. 
 
 and S. Croce, 209, 211. 
 
 on Fra Angelico, 228, 257. 
 
 and his Castagno blunders, 255. 
 Vecchio, Palazzo, the, and Michel- 
 angelo's cartoon, 81. 
 
 its history, 96-8, 103-8. 
 
 and Savonarola, 263. 
 
 Venetian pictures in the Uffizi, 121- 
 
 4. 
 
 Veronese, Paolo, 124, 336. 
 Verrocchio, his Baptist relief, 34. 
 
 and S. Lorenzo, 73, 76. 
 
 his Cupid and dolphin, 103. 
 
 at the Bargello, 187, 195-7, 200. 
 
 his "David" considered, 187. 
 
 his " Bartolommeo Colleoni," 
 
 196. 
 
 his life, 196. 
 
 his "Baptism," 239. 
 
 and Ghirlandaio, 301. 
 Vespucci, Amerigo, 289. 
 Victoria and Albert Museum, 205. 
 Villa Landor, the, 349. 
 
 Karolath, 363. 
 
 Medici, 165. 
 
 Palmieri, 164. 
 
 Poggio del Gherardesco, 168. 
 Villani, Giovanni, 36, 318. 
 
 Vinci, Leonardo da, and the little 
 birds, 48. 
 
 his historical cartoon, 105. 
 
 at the Uffizi, 128. 
 
 his career, 128.
 
 390 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Vinci, Leonardo da, his doom, 129. 
 
 his putative "Medusa," 158. 
 
 and Verrocchio's "Baptism," 
 
 239. 
 
 his "Last Supper," 255. 
 
 "Vita Nuova," the, 173. 
 
 Vittorio Emmanuele, Piazza, 312-6. "Zuccone, II," 38. 
 
 WARRIORS return to Florence, 316. 
 Wordsworth and Dante, 5. 
 and Milton, 247. 
 
 ZENOBTOS, S., his career 
 miracles, 21, 22, 145. 
 
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