Piazza Della Signoria, Florence
Piazza Della SignoriaThe best· known site of Florence is, of course, the Piazza della Signoria, in front of the Palazzo Signoria, Florence's City Hall, where stands the well-known copy (not the original) of Miehelangelo's David. It is here, too, that you'll find the renowned Uffizi Galleries; and all of this is but a bloek-or-so from the Ponte Veeehio (the famous eovered bridge of Florence) and the Arno River.
In the area around the Piazza are found three startlingly-good Second Class hotels. They strain the budget somewhat, but they are each gems of their kind, especially well-suited for older tourists who'd like a touch of elegance in their hotel-but at moderate cost.
Across the Piazza della Sianoria the life of Florence flows today as it has flowed for at least five hundred years. The people hurry backwards and forwards, pursuing their ways to business or to pleasure, and idlers lounge on the steps of the Loggia dei Lanzi, where Cosimo the First's German Lancers once kept guard -- where now Donatello's "Judith" and Cellini's "Perseus" occupy the soldiers' places, and where every Saturday morning the lotto is drawn. In Italy every one plays at the Government lottery, and in every town the lots are drawn on Saturday; the winning numbers being displayed afterwards over the doors of the Banks found in nearly every street. In Florence an orphan child is always chosen to draw the lottery numbers -an office which he or she, as the case may be, performs in a thoroughly business-like way.
Modern Florence has invaded the old Square, and modern houses face the Palazzo Vecchio, while on Fridays a vast crowd of country people assemble here after market.
HOTELS IN PIAZZA DELLA SIGNORIA
Calzaiuoli Hotel Florence
Pendini Hotel Florence
Strozzi Palace Hotel Florence
Then the piazza is full to overflowing with peasants who have come in to dispose of their produce, and many and varied are the types to be seen. As a rule the Tuscan peasant is a graceful specimen of humanity, dark and intelligentlooking, with a delightful habit of gesticulating with his hands, in a manner which makes it almost possible for him to dispense with words. In winter these peasants wear long coats in wonderful shades of bright brown and a peculiar vivid green, with collars and cuffs of fur, and in summer they are clad from head to foot in cool linen. Among the gesticulating groups cabs and carriages, with much shouting and cracking of whips, slowly thread their way, scattering to right and left the ever-shifting, brightly-coloured crowd, with its admixture of inquiring tourists.
Overlooking the throng of market-people and citizens, the little groups of tourists and loungers in the Loggia, the grand old palace of the ancient Republic of Florence towers grim and strong. Arnolfo di Cambio built this battlemented fortress in the thirteenth century, as a residence for the Gonfaloniere (Chief Magistrate of Justice) and the Priors of the Signory. He included in his design the great tower, one of the loveliest of all the towers of Florence, at that time the property of the Vacca family. Without and within the Palazzo Vecchio the history of Florence has been made, and many stirring events it witnessed -- tumults, revolts, executions, and tortures, many and horrible. In 1378 the frightened Signoria, shut within the strong walls of their palace, capitulated to the people in the revolt of the "Ciompi," or Woodenshoed, a name given in derision to these particular rebels, who belonged to the plebeian class. Triumphant, the "Ciompi" elected a wool-carder, by name Michele di Lando, who had carried the great banner of Justice in the tumult, to be Gonfaloniere and supreme in the Republic, which office he worthily filled for a time. The palace saw also the Duke of Athens acclaimed by the people; it served as a prison for Cosimo, "Pater Patriae," and for Savonarola and his devoted friars. Later it became the palace of the Medici Pope, Clement VII., and of Cosimo, the first GrandDuke, and his wife Eleanor of Toledo; and it was in honour of their son's wife, Joanna of Austria, that the courtyard was decorated as we see it today.
Out of compliment to the young Princess, the massive columns were wreathed with vine-tendrils and other ornaments in stucco; and the now halfobliterated frescoes on the walls and vaulting were painted, the subjects chosen from German history and from German towns, to remind the bride of her northern home. All the proportions of the courtyard are good, and make a charming frame for the beautiful little fountain in the middle. Who in Florence does not know and love Verrocchio's chubby winged boy, running away above a porphyry basin, with a small dolphin held tightly beneath his round fat arm? His flying feet seem scarce to touch the ground, and his curls are tossed by the breeze, while the gloom of the dark cortile is full of the charm of his bright presence.
The Municipal Council of Florence now holds its sittings in the great hall, and its various offices occupy the larger part of the vast building, through many rooms of which we wandered, overwhelmed by their powerful associations; but, though tempted to linger and dream in this history-haunted atmosphere, we left at length, and crossing the courtyard, walked down the steps which once formed the "Ringhiera," from whence the Signoria proclaimed their decrees to the people assembled on the Piazza in the old days, and walked across to the beautiful "Loggia dei Lanzi."
Here a wonderful group of statues is to be found, unrivalled in fine workmanship and design. First is the "Perseus" of Benvenuto Cellini, standing, with triumphant grace, above the prostrate Medusa, whose awful head he holds in one hand, while in the other he grasps his dripping sword. Not far from him is Donatello's "Judith," a fitting companion for the Greek hero -- for she is heroic in her proportions, the great Deliverer of her people, carrying the head of Holofernes the tyrant. On the other side, passing once more the "Perseus," is John of Bologna's great marble group of the "Rape of the Sabines," which worthily completes this trio of noble works. From the Loggia the view of the Piazza is fine, and one can imagine the great games and fêtes held here in mediæval days, and also a little of the terror of Savonarola's martyrdom. In the pavement before the Palazzo Vecchio a memorial stone marks the spot where the three friars suffered on May 23, 1498; and on the anniversary of their execution fresh garlands may be seen lying upon it, brought by the people who still revere the memory of the great prior of San Marco and his two faithful monks.
To the north of the Piazza della Signoria lies the Via Calzaioli, -- the very heart of Florence, full of associations with her ancient life, her guilds and her crafts, and the great families who distracted her with their feuds and party quarrels. In this street the Guelphie family of Adimari, and their Ghibelline foes, the Macci, had their houses, and close at hand lived the Cerchi and the Donati; and in Via Calzaioli the artists had their booths, and waited for their patrons to give orders or to inspect works of art. It is still one of the busiest of Florentine streets, narrow and always overcrowded; twice has it been widened, and still there does not seem to be room enough for all the people and all the vehicles perpetually going up and down. Some of the best shops in the town are established in these tall houses; so also are some of the most popular restaurants. Real Italian cooking is quite excellent: all the "paste" dishes, such as macaroni, spaghetti, and gniochi, are delicious, and the way in which the vegetables produced by the rich soil of Tuscany in such abundance are treated and prepared by an Italian cook would be a revelation to an English member of that profession.
Half-way down Via Calzaioli stands one of the most interesting of the Florentine churches, Or San Michele. This curious prefix of "Or" has given rise to some speculation. It is supposed to be derived either from the Latin "hortus" (garden), as it is known that the church once stood in a garden, or "horium" (granary), after a neighbouring corn-market. In very ancient days the Lombards built a church where Or San Michele now stands, and dedicated it to their patron saint, the great Archangel; but as they allowed the building to fall into decay, the Signory ordained that it should be destroyed. Later, however, the Signory commissioned Arnolfo di Cambio to design a loggia to be erected on the site of the demolished church, in which they hung the muchvenerated picture known as "Our Lady of Consolation." This fine work -- supposed by some to be by Ugolino of Siena, and by others to be by Lorenzo Monaco -- was afterwards removed to Orcagna's celebrated shrine, within the church. In 1304 the Signory began the present church, but destined it first for a granary, where foreign corn bought by them could be stored, and sold at a low price to the poor in years of famine.
Besides these fine statues, and the attractive work of Luca which makes a patch of colour high up in the curious square church, there are the lovely windows to be admired, as beautiful as anything to be found in Florentine architecture of the period. They are finely designed, rich in delicate tracery and in ornament, supported on perfectly proportioned columns, and are the work of Francesco Talenti.
The interior of Or San Michele is dim. The sunlight penetrates but palely the dusky shadows, among which gleam the faded colours of vanishing frescoes adorning the pillars and walls. Passing St. Anne's altar, and the great marble group above it, where she is represented supporting Our Lady and the Divine Child, we come to the celebrated shrine, where we stand lost in admiration of the beauty of its form and conception. The Sienese master has depicted Our Lady of Consolation, holding on her knee our Lord, who grasps a goldfinch in a dimpled hand, the group surrounded by adoring angels, and Orcagna's tabernacle in which the picture is placed is carved with beautiful traceries, and has reliefs relating the history of Our Lady from her birth to her Assumption. The whole is enclosed within a low marble screen, on which offerings of flowers lie, brought by rich and poor alike, fragrant tributes of Florentine love and devotion to the "Consolatrix Afflictorum," whose intercession saved their city from the Black Death in the fourteenth century.
Another much venerated object in Or San Michele is the crucifix before which St. Antonino the Archbishop prayed as a child. Living close by the original Loggia, the Saint in his boyhood was often seen kneeling absorbed in prayer before this crucifix, which stood on the altar, and it has been preserved ever since, as a precious relic.
Leaving the church by the west door, we found ourselves facing the ancient tower of the Guild of Foreign Wool Merchants, -- venerable, rugged, and square, connected by a covered outside passage with the church in which those good old merchants doubtless heard Mass often and devoutly. To-day their hall is used by the Dante Society for learned conferences, in which the greatest scholars of the day take part, and remembering this, and that the poet was born close by, we moved away from Or San Michele and across the street in search of the quiet, shady, little piazzetta where the Alighieri family built their houses, and where over a doorway a tablet records the fact of Dante's birth in that particular house. In a street close by stands the little old church of San Martino, where he married Gemma dei Donati; and which is also connected with St. Antonino.
It was in this church the Archbishop established a Confraternity to which was given the name of the "Buonomini di San Martino" (the good men of St. Martin), who undertook to seek out and assist people who had fallen from comfort into distress and poverty, through no fault of their own. In the wall of the church is still to be seen a slit, not unlike the slit in our modern post-boxes, with an inscription asking for alms for that philanthropic purpose, -- the medium through which the charitable gave money to assist the "Buonomini di San Martino."
Close by the church of St. Martin is the ancient and at one time powerful Benedictine Abbey generally known as the "Badia." Its beautiful Campanile, lately restored, is of the fourteenth century, and is one of the most graceful of the lovely group of spires that watch over Florence. The Cloister, a delightful specimen of fourteenthcentury architecture, is built round a small square, in double arcades, one above the other, and is decorated with unimportant frescoes of the life of St. Benedict, and the most precious treasure remaining to the old Abbey church is a magnificent picture by Filippino Lippi, "The Vision of St. Bernard." The old legend which relates the life of the Saint dwells most particularly on his great devotion to the Mother of our Lord, and describes how, on one occasion, when St. Bernard was worn out with his labours, and suffering much from an illness, which caused him great difficulty in writing the sermons and books he composed in her honour, Our Lady appeared to him. Cheered and comforted by the heavenly vision, St. Bernard continued his work, refreshed and strengthened, and it is this scene that Filippino Lippi has painted, giving the world a Madonna of extreme beauty and sweetness, who bends towards the great Abbot with an expression of pity and tenderness, touching with her hand the written page open on his desk. She is accompanied by youthful angels, and on a rock in the background Filippino has written the Saint's fine motto: Sustine et abstine" ("Bear and forbear").

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