CHAPTER IX.

_The Palazzo Riccardi--San Lorenzo--San Marco._

Per molti, donna, anzi per mille amanti,

creata fusti, e d'angelica forma.

Or par che'n ciel si dorma,

s'un sol s'appropria quel ch'e dato a tanti.

(_Michelangelo Buonarroti_).

The Via dei Martelli leads from the Baptistery into the Via Cavour,

formerly the historical Via Larga. Here stands the great Palace of the

Medici, now called the Palazzo Riccardi from the name of the family to

whom the Grand Duke Ferdinand II. sold it in the seventeenth century.

The palace was begun by Michelozzo for Cosimo the Elder shortly before

his exile, and completed after his return, when it became in reality

the seat of government of the city, although the Signoria still kept

up the pretence of a republic in the Palazzo Vecchio. Here Lorenzo the

Magnificent was born on January 1st, 1449, and here the most brilliant

and cultured society of artists and scholars that the world had seen

gathered round him and his family.[44] Here, too, after the expulsion

of Lorenzo's mad son, Piero, in 1494, Charles VIII. of France was

splendidly lodged; here Piero Capponi tore the dishonourable treaty

and saved the Republic, and here Fra Girolamo a few days later

admonished the fickle king. On the return of the Medici, the Cardinal

Giovanni, the younger Lorenzo, and the Cardinal Giulio successively

governed the city here; until in 1527 the people drove out the young

pretenders, Alessandro and Ippolito, with their guardian, the Cardinal

Passerini. It was on this latter occasion that Piero's daughter,

Madonna Clarice, the wife of the younger Filippo Strozzi, was carried

hither in her litter, and literally slanged these boys and the

Cardinal out of Florence. She is reported, with more vehemence than

delicacy, to have told her young kinsmen that the house of Lorenzo dei

Medici was not a stable for mules. During the siege, the people wished

to entirely destroy the palace and rename the place the Piazza dei

Muli.

[44] It should be observed that Lorenzo was not specially called the

"Magnificent" by his contemporaries. All the more prominent members of

the Medicean family were styled _Magnifico_ in the same way.

After the restoration Alessandro carried on his abominable career

here, until, on January 5th, 1537, the dagger of another Lorenzo freed

the world from an infamous monster. Some months before, Benvenuto

Cellini came to the palace, as he tells us in his autobiography, to

show the Duke the wax models for his medals which he was making.

Alessandro was lying on his bed, indisposed, and with him was only

this Lorenzino or Lorenzaccio, _quel pazzo malinconico filosafo di

Lorenzino_, as Benvenuto calls him elsewhere. "The Duke," writes

Benvenuto, "several times signed to him that he too should urge me to

stop; upon which Lorenzino never said anything else, but: 'Benvenuto,

you would do best for yourself to stay.' To which I said that I wanted

by all means to return to Rome. He said nothing more, and kept

continually staring at the Duke with a most evil eye. Having finished

the medal and shut it up in its case, I said to the Duke: 'My Lord, be

content, for I will make you a much more beautiful medal than I made

for Pope Clement; for reason wills that I should do better, since that

was the first that ever I made; and Messer Lorenzo here will give me

some splendid subject for a reverse, like the learned person and

magnificent genius that he is.' To these words the said Lorenzo

promptly answered: 'I was thinking of nothing else, save how to give

thee a reverse that should be worthy of his Excellency.' The Duke

grinned, and, looking at Lorenzo, said: 'Lorenzo, you shall give him

the reverse, and he shall make it here, and shall not go away.'

Lorenzo replied hastily, saying: 'I will do it as quickly as I

possibly can, and I hope to do a thing that will astonish the world.'

The Duke, who sometimes thought him a madman and sometimes a coward,

turned over in his bed, and laughed at the words which he had said to

him. I went away without other ceremonies of leave-taking, and left

them alone together."

On the fatal night Lorenzino lured the Duke into his own rooms, in

what was afterwards called the Strada del Traditore, which was

incorporated into the palace by the Riccardi. Alessandro, tired out

with the excesses of the day, threw himself upon a bed; Lorenzino went

out of the room, ostensibly to fetch his kinswoman, Caterina Ginori,

whose beauty had been the bait; and he returned with the bravo

Scoroncocolo, with whose assistance he assassinated him. Those who saw

Sarah Bernhardt in the part of "Lorenzaccio," will not easily forget

her rendering of this scene. Lorenzino published an Apologia, in which

he enumerates Alessandro's crimes, declares that he was no true

offspring of the Medici, and that his own single motive was the

liberation of Florence from tyranny. He fled first to Constantinople,

and then to Venice, where he was murdered in 1547 by the agents of

Alessandro's successor, Cosimo I., who transferred the ducal residence

from the present palace first to the Palazzo Vecchio, and then across

the river to the Pitti Palace.

With the exception of the chapel, the interior of the Palazzo Riccardi

is not very suggestive of the old Medicean glories of the days of

Lorenzo the Magnificent. There is a fine court, surrounded with

sarcophagi and statues, including some of the old tombs which stood

round the Baptistery and among which Guido Cavalcanti used to linger,

and some statues of Apostles from the second facade of the Duomo.

Above the arcades are eight fine classical medallions by Donatello,

copied and enlarged from antique gems. The rooms above have been

entirely altered since the days when Capponi defied King Charles, and

Madonna Clarice taunted Alessandro and Ippolito; the large gallery,

which witnessed these scenes, is covered with frescoes by Luca

Giordano, executed in the early part of the seventeenth century. The

Chapel--still entirely reminiscent of the better Medici--was painted

by Benozzo Gozzoli shortly before the death of Cosimo the Elder, with

frescoes representing the Procession of the Magi, in a delightfully

impossible landscape. The two older kings are the Patriarch Joseph of

Constantinople, and John Paleologus, Emperor of the East, who had

visited Florence twenty years before on the occasion of the Council

(Benozzo, it must be observed, was painting them in 1459, after the

fall of Constantinople); the third is Lorenzo dei Medici himself, as a

boy. Behind follow the rest of the Medicean court, Cosimo himself and

his son, Piero, content apparently to be led forward by this mere lad;

and in their train is Benozzo Gozzoli himself, marked by the signature

on his hat. The picture of the Nativity itself, round which Benozzo's

lovely Angels--though very earthly compared with Angelico's--seem

still to linger in attendance, is believed to have been one by Lippo

Lippi, now at Berlin.

In the chapter _Of the Superhuman Ideal_, in the second volume of

_Modern Painters_, Ruskin refers to these frescoes as the most

beautiful instance of the supernatural landscapes of the early

religious painters:--

"Behind the adoring angel groups, the landscape is governed by the

most absolute symmetry; roses, and pomegranates, their leaves drawn to

the last rib and vein, twine themselves in fair and perfect order

about delicate trellises; broad stone pines and tall cypresses

overshadow them, bright birds hover here and there in the serene sky,

and groups of angels, hand joined with hand, and wing with wing, glide

and float through the glades of the unentangled forest. But behind the

human figures, behind the pomp and turbulence of the kingly procession

descending from the distant hills, the spirit of the landscape is

changed. Severer mountains rise in the distance, ruder prominences

and less flowery vary the nearer ground, and gloomy shadows remain

unbroken beneath the forest branches."

Among the manuscripts in the _Biblioteca Riccardiana_, which is

entered from the Via Ginori at the back of the palace, is the most

striking and plausible of all existing portraits of Dante. It is at

the beginning of a codex of the Canzoni (numbered 1040), and appears

to have been painted about 1436.

From the palace where the elder Medici lived, we turn to the church

where they, and their successors of the younger line, lie in death. In

the Piazza San Lorenzo there is an inane statue of the father of

Cosimo I., Giovanni delle Bande Nere, by Baccio Bandinelli. Here, in

June 1865, Robert Browning picked up at a stall the "square old yellow

Book" with "the crumpled vellum covers," which gave him the story of

_The Ring and the Book_:--

"I found this book,

Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,

(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,

Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,

One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,

Across a square in Florence, crammed with booths,

Buzzing and blaze, noon-tide and market-time,

Toward Baccio's marble--ay, the basement ledge

O' the pedestal where sits and menaces

John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,

'Twixt palace and church--Riccardi where they lived,

His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.

"That memorable day,

(June was the month, Lorenzo named the Square)

I leaned a little and overlooked my prize

By the low railing round the fountain-source

Close to the statue, where a step descends:

While clinked the cans of copper, as stooped and rose

Thick-ankled girls who brimmed them, and made place

For market men glad to pitch basket down,

Dip a broad melon-leaf that holds the wet,

And whisk their faded fresh."

[Illustration: THE TOMB OF GIOVANNI AND PIERO DEI MEDICI

BY ANDREA VERROCCHIO

(In San Lorenzo)]

The unsightly bare front of San Lorenzo represents several fruitless

and miserable years of Michelangelo's life. Pope Leo X. and the

Cardinal Giulio dei Medici commissioned him to make a new facade, in

1516, and for some years he consumed his time labouring among the

quarries of Carrara and Pietrasanta, getting the marble for it and for

the statues with which it was to be adorned. In one of his letters he

says: "I am perfectly disposed (_a me basta l'animo_) to make this

work of the facade of San Lorenzo so that, both in architecture and in

sculpture, it shall be the mirror of all Italy; but the Pope and the

Cardinal must decide quickly, if they want me to do it or not"; and

again, some time later: "What I have promised to do, I shall do by all

means, and I shall make the most beautiful work that was ever made in

Italy, if God helps me." But nothing came of it all; and in after

years Michelangelo bitterly declared that Leo had only pretended that

he wanted the facade finished, in order to prevent him working upon

the tomb of Pope Julius.

"The ancient Ambrosian Basilica of St. Lawrence," founded according to

tradition by a Florentine widow named Giuliana, and consecrated by St.

Ambrose in the days of Zenobius, was entirely destroyed by fire early

in the fifteenth century, during a solemn service ordered by the

Signoria to invoke the protection of St. Ambrose for the Florentines

in their war against Filippo Maria Visconti. Practically the only

relic of this Basilica is the miraculous image of the Madonna in the

right transept. The present church was erected from the designs of

Filippo Brunelleschi, at the cost of the Medici (especially Giovanni

di Averardo, who may be regarded as its chief founder) and seven other

Florentine families. It is simple and harmonious in structure; the

cupola, which is so visible in distant views of Florence, looking

like a smaller edition of the Duomo, unlike the latter, rests directly

upon the cross. This appears to be one of the modifications from what

Brunelleschi had intended.

The two pulpits with their bronze reliefs, right and left, are the

last works of Donatello; they were executed in part and finished by

his pupil, Bertoldo. The marble singing gallery in the left aisle

(near a fresco of the martyrdom of St. Lawrence, by Bronzino) is also

the joint work of Donatello and Bertoldo. In the right transept is a

marble tabernacle by Donatello's great pupil, Desiderio da Settignano.

Beneath a porphyry slab in front of the choir, Cosimo the Elder, the

Pater Patriae, lies; Donatello is buried in the same vault as his

great patron and friend. In the Martelli Chapel, on the left, is an

exceedingly beautiful Annunciation by Fra Filippo Lippi, a fine

example of his colouring (in which he is decidedly the best of all the

early Florentines); Gabriel is attended by two minor Angels, squires

waiting upon this great Prince of the Archangelic order, who are full

of that peculiar mixture of boyish high spirits and religious

sentiment which gives a special charm of its own to all that Lippo

does.

The _Sagrestia Vecchia_, founded by Giovanni di Averardo, was erected

by Brunelleschi and decorated by Donatello for Cosimo the Elder. In

the centre is the marble sarcophagus, adorned with _putti_ and

festoons, containing the remains of Giovanni and his wife Piccarda,

Cosimo's father and mother, by Donatello. The bronze doors (hardly

among his best works), the marble balustrade before the altar, the

stucco medallions of the Evangelists, the reliefs of patron saints of

the Medici and the frieze of Angels' heads are all Donatello's; also

an exceedingly beautiful terracotta bust of St. Lawrence, which is one

of his most attractive creations. In the niche on the left of the

entrance is the simple but very beautiful tomb of the two sons of

Cosimo, Piero and Giovanni--who are united also in Botticelli's

Adoration of the Magi as the two kings--and it serves also as a

monument to Cosimo himself; it was made by Andrea Verrocchio for

Lorenzo and Giuliano, Piero's sons. The remains of Lorenzo and

Giuliano rested together in this sacristy until they were translated

in the sixteenth century. In spite of a misleading modern inscription,

they were apparently not buried in their father's grave, and the

actual site of their former tomb is unknown. They now lie together in

the _Sagrestia Nuova_. The simplicity of these funereal monuments and

the _pietas_ which united the members of the family so closely, in

death and in life alike, are very characteristic of these earlier

Medicean rulers of Florence.

The cloisters of San Lorenzo, haunted by needy and destitute cats,

were also designed by Brunelleschi. To the right, after passing

Francesco da San Gallo's statue of Paolo Giovio, the historian, who

died in 1559, is the entrance to the famous Biblioteca Laurenziana.

The nucleus of this library was the collection of codices formed by

Niccolo Niccoli, which were afterwards purchased by Cosimo the Elder,

and still more largely increased by Lorenzo the Magnificent; after the

expulsion of Piero the younger, they were bought by the Friars of San

Marco, and then from them by the Cardinal Giovanni, who transferred

them to the Medicean villa at Rome. In accordance with Pope Leo's

wish, Clement VII. (then the Cardinal Giulio) brought them back to

Florence, and, when Pope, commissioned Michelangelo to design the

building that was to house them. The portico, vestibule and staircase

were designed by him, and, in judging of their effect, it must be

remembered that Michelangelo professed that architecture was not his

business, and also that the vestibule and staircase were intended to

have been adorned with bronzes and statues. It was commenced in 1524,

before the siege. Of the numberless precious manuscripts which this

collection contains, we will mention only two classical and one

mediaeval; the famous Pandects of Justinian which the Pisans took from

Amalfi, and the Medicean Virgil of the fourth or fifth century; and

Boccaccio's autograph manuscript of Dante's Eclogues and Epistles.

This latter codex, shown under the glass at the entrance to the

Rotunda, is the only manuscript in existence which contains Dante's

Epistles to the Italian Cardinals and to a Florentine Friend. In the

first, he defines his attitude towards the Church, and declares that

he is not touching the Ark, but merely turning to the kicking oxen who

are dragging it out of the right path; in the second, he proudly

proclaims his innocence, rejects the amnesty, and refuses to return to

Florence under dishonourable conditions. Although undoubtedly in

Boccaccio's handwriting, it has been much disputed of late years as to

whether these two letters are really by Dante. There is not a single

autograph manuscript, nor a single scrap of Dante's handwriting extant

at the present day.

* * * * *

From the Piazza Madonna, at the back of San Lorenzo, we enter a chilly

vestibule, the burial vault of less important members of the families

of the Medicean Grand Dukes, and ascend to the _Sagrestia Nuova_,

where the last male descendants of Cosimo the Elder and Lorenzo the

Magnificent lie. Although the idea of adding some such mausoleum to

San Lorenzo appears to have originated with Leo X., this New Sacristy

was built by Michelangelo for Clement VII., commenced while he was

still the Cardinal Giulio and finished in 1524, before the Library

was constructed. Its form was intended to correspond with that of

Brunelleschi's Old Sacristy, and it was to contain four sepulchral

monuments. Two of these, the only two that were actually constructed,

were for the younger Lorenzo, titular Duke of Urbino (who died in

1519, the son of Piero and nephew of Pope Leo), and the younger

Giuliano, Duke of Nemours (who died in 1516, the third son of the

Magnificent and younger brother of Leo). It is not quite certain for

whom the other two monuments were to have been, but it is most

probable that they were for the fathers of the two Medicean Popes,

Lorenzo the Magnificent and his brother the elder Giuliano, whose

remains were translated hither by Duke Cosimo I. and rediscovered a

few years ago. Michelangelo commenced the statues before the third

expulsion of the Medici, worked on them in secret while he was

fortifying Florence against Pope Clement before the siege, and

returned to them, after the downfall of the Republic, as the condition

of obtaining the Pope's pardon. He resumed work, full of bitterness at

the treacherous overthrow of the Republic, tormented by the heirs of

Pope Julius II., whose tomb he had been forced to abandon, suffering

from insomnia and shattered health, threatened with death by the

tyrant Alessandro. When he left Florence finally in 1534, just before

the death of Clement, the statues had not even been put into their

places.

Neither of the ducal statues is a portrait, but they appear to

represent the active and contemplative lives, like the Leah and Rachel

on the tomb of Pope Julius II. at Rome. On the right sits Giuliano,

holding the baton of command as Gonfaloniere of the Church. His

handsome sensual features to some extent recall those of the

victorious youth in the allegory in the Bargello. He holds his baton

somewhat loosely, as though he half realised the baseness of the

historical part he was doomed to play, and had not got his heart in

it. Opposite is Lorenzo, immersed in profound thought, "ghastly as a

tyrant's dream." What visions are haunting him of the sack of Prato,

of the atrocities of the barbarian hordes in the Eternal City, of the

doom his house has brought upon Florence? Does he already smell the

blood that his daughter will shed, fifty years later, on St.

Bartholomew's day? Here he sits, as Elizabeth Barrett Browning puts

it:--

"With everlasting shadow on his face,

While the slow dawns and twilights disapprove

The ashes of his long extinguished race,

Which never more shall clog the feet of men."

"It fascinates and is intolerable," as Rogers wrote of this statue. It

is, probably, not due to Michelangelo that the niches in which the

dukes sit are too narrow for them; but the result is to make the

tyrants seem as helpless as their victims, in the fetters of destiny.

Beneath them are four tremendous and terrible allegorical figures:

"those four ineffable types," writes Ruskin, "not of darkness nor of

day--not of morning nor evening, but of the departure and the

resurrection, the twilight and the dawn of the souls of men." Beneath

Lorenzo are Dawn and Twilight; Dawn awakes in agony, but her most

horrible dreams are better than the reality which she must face;

Twilight has worked all day in vain, and, like a helpless Titan, is

sinking now into a slumber where is no repose. Beneath Giuliano are

Day and Night: Day is captive and unable to rise, his mighty powers

are uselessly wasted and he glares defiance; Night is buried in

torturing dreams, but Michelangelo has forbidden us to wake her:--

"Grato mi e il sonno, e piu l'esser di sasso;

mentre che il danno e la vergogna dura,

non veder, non sentir, m'e gran ventura;

pero non mi destar; deh, parla basso!"[45]

[45] "Grateful to me is sleep, and more the being stone; while ruin

and shame last, not to see, not to feel, is great good fortune to me.

Therefore wake me not; ah, speak low!"

It will be remembered that it was for these two young men, to whom

Michelangelo has thus reared the noblest sepulchral monuments of the

modern world, that Leo X. desired to build kingdoms and that

Machiavelli wrote one of the masterpieces of Italian prose--the

_Principe_. Giuliano was the most respectable of the elder Medicean

line; in Castiglione's _Cortigiano_ he is an attractive figure, the

chivalrous champion of women. It is not easy to get a definite idea of

the character of Lorenzo, who, as we saw in chapter iv., was virtually

tyrant of Florence during his uncle's pontificate. The Venetian

ambassador once wrote of him that he was fitted for great deeds, and

only a little inferior to Caesar Borgia--which was intended for very

high praise; but there was nothing in him to deserve either

Michelangelo's monument or Machiavelli's dedication. He usurped the

Duchy of Urbino, and spent his last days in fooling with a jester. His

reputed son, the foul Duke Alessandro, lies buried with him here in

the same coffin.

Opposite the altar is the Madonna and Child, by Michelangelo. The

Madonna is one of the noblest and most beautiful of all the master's

works, but the Child, whom Florence had once chosen for her King, has

turned His face away from the city. A few years later, and Cosimo I.

will alter the inscription which Niccolo Capponi had set up on the

Palazzo Vecchio. The patron saints of the Medici on either side, Sts.

Cosmas and Damian, are by Michelangelo's pupils and assistants, Fra

Giovanni Angiolo da Montorsoli and Raffaello da Montelupo. Beneath

these statues lie Lorenzo the Magnificent and his brother, the elder

Giuliano. Their bodies were removed hither from the Old Sacristy in

1559, and the question as to their place of burial was finally set at

rest, in October 1895, by the discovery of their bodies. It is

probable that Michelangelo had originally intended the Madonna for the

tomb of his first patron, Lorenzo.

In judging of the general effect of this _Sagrestia Nuova_, which is

certainly somewhat cold, it must be remembered that Michelangelo

intended it to be full of statues and that the walls were to have been

covered with paintings. "Its justification," says Addington Symonds,

"lies in the fact that it demanded statuary and colour for its

completion." The vault was frescoed by Giovanni da Udine, but is now

whitewashed. In 1562, Vasari wrote to Michelangelo at Rome on behalf

of Duke Cosimo, telling him that "the place is being now used for

religious services by day and night, according to the intentions of

Pope Clement," and that the Duke was anxious that all the best

sculptors and painters of the newly instituted Academy should work

upon the Sacristy and finish it from Michelangelo's designs. "He

intends," writes Vasari, "that the new Academicians shall complete the

whole imperfect scheme, in order that the world may see that, while so

many men of genius still exist among us, the noblest work which was

ever yet conceived on earth has not been left unfinished." And the

Duke wants to know what Michelangelo's own idea is about the statues

and paintings; "He is particularly anxious that you should be assured

of his determination to alter nothing you have already done or

planned, but, on the contrary, to carry out the whole work according

to your conception. The Academicians, too, are unanimous in their

hearty desire to abide by this decision."[46]

[46] Given in Addington Symonds' _Life of Michelangelo_.

In the _Cappella dei Principi_, gorgeous with its marbles and mosaics,

lie the sovereigns of the younger line, the Medicean Grand Dukes of

Tuscany, the descendants of the great captain Giovanni delle Bande

Nere. Here are the sepulchral monuments of Cosimo I. (1537-1574); of

his sons, Francesco (1574-1587) and Ferdinand I. (1587-1609); and of

Ferdinand's son, grandson and great-grandson, Cosimo II. (1609-1621),

Ferdinand II. (1627-1670), Cosimo III. (1670-1723). The statues are

those of Ferdinand I. and Cosimo II.

Cosimo I. finally transformed the republic into a monarchy, created a

new aristocracy and established a small standing army, though he

mainly relied upon Spanish and German mercenaries. He conquered Siena

in 1553, and in 1570 was invested with the grand ducal crown by Pius

V.--a title which the Emperor confirmed to his successor. Although the

tragedy which tradition has hung round the end of the Duchess Eleonora

and her two sons has not stood the test of historical criticism, there

are plenty of bloody deeds to be laid to Duke Cosimo's account during

his able and ruthless reign. Towards the close of his life he married

his mistress, Cammilla Martelli, and made over the government to his

son. This son, Francesco, the founder of the Uffizi Gallery and of the

modern city of Leghorn, had more than his father's vices and hardly

any of his ability; his intrigue with the beautiful Venetian, Bianca

Cappello, whom he afterwards married, and who died with him, has

excited more interest than it deserves. The Cardinal Ferdinand, who

succeeded him and renounced the cardinalate, was incomparably the best

of the house--a man of magnanimous character and an enlightened

ruler. He shook off the influence of Spain, and built an excellent

navy to make war upon the Turks and Barbary corsairs. Cosimo II. and

Ferdinand II. reigned quietly and benevolently, with no ability but

with plenty of good intentions. Chiabrera sings their praises with

rather unnecessary fervour. But the wealth and prosperity of Tuscany

was waning, and Cosimo III., a luxurious and selfish bigot, could do

nothing to arrest the decay. On the death of his miserable and

contemptible successor, Gian Gastone dei Medici in 1737, the Medicean

dynasty was at an end.

Stretching along a portion of the Via Larga, and near the Piazza di

San Marco, were the famous gardens of the Medici, which the people

sacked in 1494 on the expulsion of Piero. The Casino Mediceo, built by

Buontalenti in 1576, marks the site. Here were placed some of

Lorenzo's antique statues and curios; and here Bertoldo had his great

art school, where the most famous painters and sculptors came to bask

in the sun of Medicean patronage, and to copy the antique. Here the

boy Michelangelo came with his friend Granacci, and here Andrea

Verrocchio first trained the young Leonardo. In this garden, too,

Angelo Poliziano walked with his pupils, and initiated Michelangelo

into the newly revived Hellenic culture. There is nothing now to

recall these past glories.

[Illustration: THE WELL OF S. MARCO]

The church of San Marco has been frequently altered and modernised,

and there is little now to remind us that it was here on August 1,

1489, that Savonarola began to expound the Apocalypse. Over the

entrance is a Crucifix ascribed by Vasari to Giotto. On the second

altar to the right is a much-damaged but authentic Madonna and Saints

by Fra Bartolommeo; that on the opposite altar, on the left, is a

copy of the original now in the Pitti Palace. There are some

picturesque bits of old fourteenth century frescoes on the left wall,

and beneath them, between the second and third altars, lie Pico della

Mirandola and his friend Girolamo Benivieni, and Angelo Poliziano. The

left transept contains the tomb and shrine of St Antoninus, the good

Dominican Archbishop of Florence, with statues by Giovanni da Bologna

and his followers, and later frescoes. In the sacristy, which was

designed by Brunelleschi, there is a fine bronze recumbent statue of

him. Antoninus was Prior of San Marco in the days of Angelico, and

Vasari tells us that when Angelico went to Rome, to paint for Pope

Eugenius, the Pope wished to make the painter Archbishop of Florence:

"When the said friar heard this, he besought his Holiness to find

somebody else, because he did not feel himself apt to govern people;

but that since his Order had a friar who loved the poor, who was most

learned and fit for rule, and who feared God, this dignity would be

much better conferred upon him than on himself. The Pope, hearing

this, and bethinking him that what he said was true, granted his

request freely; and so Fra Antonino was made Archbishop of Florence,

of the Order of Preachers, a man truly most illustrious for sanctity

and learning."

It was in the church of San Marco that Savonarola celebrated Mass on

the day of the Ordeal; here the women waited and prayed, while the

procession set forth; and hither the Dominicans returned at evening,

amidst the howls and derision of the crowd. Here, on the next evening,

the fiercest of the fighting took place. The attempt of the enemy to

break into the church by the sacristy door was repulsed. One of the

Panciatichi, a mere boy, mortally wounded, joyfully received the last

sacraments from Fra Domenico on the steps of the altar, and died in

such bliss, that the rest envied him. Finally the great door of the

church was broken down; Fra Enrico, a German, mounted the pulpit and

fired again and again into the midst of the Compagnacci, shouting with

each shot, _Salvum fac populum tuum, Domine_. Driven from the pulpit,

he and other friars planted their arquebusses beneath the Crucifix on

the high altar, and continued to fire. The church was now so full of

smoke that the friars could hardly continue the defence, until Fra

Giovacchino della Robbia broke one of the windows with a lance. At

last, when the Signoria threatened to destroy the whole convent with

artillery, Savonarola ordered the friars to go in procession from the

church to the dormitory, and himself, taking the Blessed Sacrament

from the altar, slowly followed them.

The convent itself, now officially the _Museo di San Marco_,

originally a house of Silvestrine monks, was made over to the

Dominicans by Pope Eugenius IV., at the instance of Cosimo dei Medici

and his brother Lorenzo. They solemnly took possession in 1436, and

Michelozzo entirely rebuilt the whole convent for them, mainly at the

cost of Cosimo, between 1437 and 1452. "It is believed," says Vasari,

"to be the best conceived and the most beautiful and commodious

convent of any in Italy, thanks to the virtue and industry of

Michelozzo." Fra Giovanni da Fiesole, as the Beato Angelico was

called, came from his Fiesolan convent, and worked simultaneously with

Michelozzo for about eight or nine years (until the Pope summoned him

to Rome in 1445 to paint in the Vatican), covering with his mystical

dreams the walls that his friend designed. That other artistic glory

of the Dominicans, Fra Bartolommeo, took the habit here in 1500,

though there are now only a few unimportant works of his remaining in

the convent. Never was there such a visible outpouring of the praying

heart in painting, as in the work of these two friars. And Antoninus

and Savonarola strove to make the spirit world that they painted a

living reality, for Florence and for the Church.

The first cloister is surrounded by later frescoes, scenes from the

life of St. Antoninus, partly by Bernardino Poccetti and Matteo

Rosselli, at the beginning of the seventeenth century. They are not of

great artistic value, but one, the fifth on the right of the entrance,

representing the entry of St. Antoninus into Florence, shows the old

facade of the Duomo. Like gems in this rather indifferent setting, are

five exquisite frescoes by Angelico in lunettes over the doors; St.

Thomas Aquinas, Christ as a pilgrim received by two Dominican friars,

Christ in the tomb, St. Dominic (spoilt), St. Peter Martyr; also a

larger fresco of St. Dominic at the foot of the Cross. The second of

these, symbolising the hospitality of the convent rule, is one of

Angelico's masterpieces; beneath it is the entrance to the Foresteria,

the guest-chambers. Under the third lunette we pass into the great

Refectory, with its customary pulpit for the novice reader: here,

instead of the usual Last Supper, is a striking fresco of St. Dominic

and his friars miraculously fed by Angels, painted in 1536 by Giovanni

Antonio Sogliani (a pupil of Lorenzo di Credi); the Crucifixion above,

with St. Catherine of Siena and St. Antoninus, is said to be by Fra

Bartolommeo. Here, too, on the right is the original framework by

Jacopo di Bartolommeo da Sete and Simone da Fiesole, executed in 1433,

for Angelico's great tabernacle now in the Uffizi.

Angelico's St. Dominic appropriately watches over the Chapter House,

which contains the largest of Fra Giovanni's frescoes and one of the

greatest masterpieces of religious art: the Crucifixion with the

patron saints of Florence, of the convent, and of the Medici, the

founders of the religious orders, the representatives of the zeal and

learning of the Dominicans, all gathered and united in contemplation

around the Cross of Christ. It was ordered by Cosimo dei Medici, and

painted about 1441. On our left are the Madonna, supported by the

Magdalene, the other Mary, and the beloved Disciple; the Baptist and

St. Mark, representing the city and the convent; St. Lawrence and St.

Cosmas (said by Vasari to be a portrait of Nanni di Banco, who died

twenty years before), and St. Damian. On our right, kneeling at the

foot of the Cross, is St. Dominic, a masterpiece of expression and

sentiment; behind him St. Augustine and St. Albert of Jerusalem

represent Augustinians and Carmelites; St. Jerome, St. Francis, St.

Bernard, St. John Gualbert kneel; St. Benedict and St. Romuald stand

behind them, while at the end are St. Peter Martyr and St. Thomas

Aquinas. All the male heads are admirably characterised and

discriminated, unlike Angelico's women, who are usually either merely

conventionally done or idealised into Angels. Round the picture is a

frieze of prophets, culminating in the mystical Pelican; below is the

great tree of the Dominican order, spreading out from St. Dominic

himself in the centre, with Popes Innocent V. and Benedict XI. on

either hand. The St. Antoninus was added later. Vasari tells us that,

in this tree, the brothers of the order assisted Angelico by obtaining

portraits of the various personages represented from different places;

and they may therefore be regarded as the real, or traditional,

likenesses of the great Dominicans. The same probably applies to the

wonderful figure of Aquinas in the picture itself.

Beyond is a second and larger cloister, surrounded by very inferior

frescoes of the life of St. Dominic, full of old armorial bearings and

architectural fragments arranged rather incongruously. Some of the

lunettes over the cells contain frescoes of the school of Fra

Bartolommeo. The Academy of the Crusca is established here, in what

was once the dormitory of the Novices. Connected with this cloister

was the convent garden. "In the summer time," writes Simone Filipepi,

"in the evening after supper, the Father Fra Girolamo used to walk

with his friars in the garden, and he would make them all sit round

him with the Bible in his hand, and here he expounded to them some

fair passage of the Scriptures, sometimes questioning some novice or

other, as occasion arose. At these meetings there gathered also some

fifty or sixty learned laymen, for their edification. When, by reason

of rain or other cause, it was not possible in the garden, they went

into the _hospitium_ to do the same; and for an hour or two one seemed

verily to be in Paradise, such charity and devotion and simplicity

appeared in all. Blessed was he who could be there." Shortly before

the Ordeal of Fire, Fra Girolamo was walking in the garden with Fra

Placido Cinozzi, when an exceedingly beautiful boy of noble family

came to him with a ticket upon which was written his name, offering

himself to pass through the flames. And thinking that this might not

be sufficient, he fell upon his knees, begging the Friar that he might

be allowed to undergo the ordeal for him. "Rise up, my son," said

Savonarola, "for this thy good will is wondrously pleasing unto God";

and, when the boy had gone, he turned to Fra Placido and said: "From

many persons have I had these applications, but from none have I

received so much joy as from this child, for which may God be

praised."

To the left of the staircase to the upper floor, is the smaller

refectory with a fresco of the Last Supper by Domenico Ghirlandaio,

not by any means one of the painter's best works.

On the top of the stairs we are initiated into the spirit of the place

by Angelico's most beautiful Annunciation, with its inscription,

_Virginis intacte cum veneris ante figuram, pretereundo cave ne

sileatur Ave_, "When thou shalt have come before the image of the

spotless Virgin, beware lest by negligence the Ave be silent."

On the left of the stairway a double series of cells on either side of

the corridor leads us to Savonarola's room. At the head of the

corridor is one of those representations that Angelico repeated so

often, usually with modifications, of St. Dominic at the foot of the

Cross. Each of the cells has a painted lyric of the life of Christ and

His mother, from Angelico's hand; almost each scene with Dominican

witnesses and auditors introduced,--Dominic, Aquinas, Peter Martyr, as

the case may be. In these frescoes Angelico was undoubtedly assisted

by pupils, from whom a few of the less excellent scenes may come;

there is an interesting, but altogether untrustworthy tradition that

some were executed by his brother, Fra Benedetto da Mugello, who took

the Dominican habit simultaneously with him and was Prior of the

convent at Fiesole. Taking the cells on the left first, we see the

_Noli me tangere_ (1), the Entombment (2), the Annunciation (3), the

Crucifixion (4), the Nativity (5), the Transfiguration (6), a most

wonderful picture. Opposite the Transfiguration, on the right wall of

the corridor, is a Madonna and Saints, painted by the Friar somewhat

later than the frescoes in the cells (which, it should be observed,

appear to have been painted on the walls before the cells were

actually partitioned off)--St. John Evangelist and St. Mark, the three

great Dominicans and the patrons of the Medici. Then, on the left, the

following cells contain the Mocking of Christ (7), the Resurrection

with the Maries at the tomb (8), the Coronation of the Madonna (9),

one of the grandest of the whole series, with St. Dominic and St.

Francis kneeling below, and behind them St. Benedict and St. Thomas

Aquinas, St. Peter Martyr and St. Paul the Hermit. The Presentation in

the Temple (10), and the Madonna and Child with Aquinas and Augustine

(11), are inferior to the rest.

The shorter passage now turns to the cells occupied by Fra Girolamo

Savonarola; one large cell leading into two smaller ones (12-14). In

the larger are placed three frescoes by Fra Bartolommeo; Christ and

the two disciples at Emmaus, formerly over the doorway of the

refectory, and two Madonnas--one from the Dominican convent in the

Mugnone being especially beautiful. Here are also modern busts of

Savonarola by Dupre and Benivieni by Bastianini. In the first inner

cell are Savonarola's portrait, apparently copied from a medal and

wrongly ascribed to Bartolommeo, his Crucifix and his relics, his

manuscripts and books of devotion, and, in another case, his hair

shirt and rosary, his beloved Dominican garb which he gave up on the

day of his martyrdom. In the inmost cell are the Cross which he is

said to have carried, and a copy of the old (but not contemporary)

picture of his death, of which the original is in the Corsini Palace.

The seven small cells on the right (15-21) were assigned to the

Juniors, the younger friars who had just passed through the Noviciate.

Each contains a fresco by Angelico of St. Dominic at the foot of the

Cross, now scourging himself, now absorbed in contemplation, now

covering his face with his hands, but in no two cases identical. Into

one of these cells a divine apparition was said to have come to one of

these youths, after hearing Savonarola's "most fervent and most

wondrous discourse" upon the mystery of the Incarnation. The story is

told by Simone Filipepi:--

"On the night of the most Holy Nativity, to a young friar in the

convent, who had not yet sung Mass, had appeared visibly in his cell

on the little altar, whilst he was engaged in prayer, Our Lord in the

form of a little infant even as when He was born in the stable. And

when the hour came to go into the choir for matins, the said friar

commenced to debate in his mind whether he ought to go and leave here

the Holy Child, and deprive himself of such sweetness, or not. At last

he resolved to go and to bear It with him; so, having wrapped It up in

his arms and under his cowl as best he could, all trembling with joy

and with fear, he went down into the choir without telling anyone.

But, when it came to his turn to sing a lesson, whilst he approached

the reading-desk, the Infant vanished from his arms; and when the

friar was aware of this, he remained so overwhelmed and almost beside

himself that he commenced to wander through the choir, like one who

seeks a thing lost, so that it was necessary that another should read

that lesson."

Passing back again down the corridor, we see in the cells two more

Crucifixions (22 and 23); the Baptism of Christ with Madonna as

witness (24), the Crucifixion (25); then, passing the great Madonna

fresco, the Mystery of the Passion (26), in one of those symbolical

representations which seem to have originated with the Camaldolese

painter, Don Lorenzo; Christ bound to the pillar, with St. Dominic

scourging himself and the Madonna appealing to us (27, perhaps by a

pupil); Christ bearing the Cross (28); two more Crucifixions (29 and

30), apparently not executed by Angelico himself.

At the side of Angelico's Annunciation opposite the stairs, we enter

the cell of St. Antoninus (31). Here is one of Angelico's most

beautiful and characteristic frescoes, Christ's descent into Hades:

"the intense, fixed, statue-like silence of ineffable adoration upon

the spirits in prison at the feet of Christ, side by side, the hands

lifted and the knees bowed, and the lips trembling together," as

Ruskin describes it. Here, too, is the death mask of Antoninus, his

portrait perhaps drawn from the death mask by Bartolommeo, his

manuscripts and relics; also a tree of saintly Dominicans, Savonarola

being on the main trunk, the third from the root.

The next cell on the right (32) has the Sermon on the Mount and the

Temptation in the Wilderness. In the following (33), also double,

besides the frescoed Kiss of Judas, are two minute pictures by Fra

Angelico, belonging to an earlier stage of his art than the frescoes,

intended for reliquaries and formerly in Santa Maria Novella. One of

them, the _Madonna della Stella_, is a very perfect and typical

example of the Friar's smaller works, in their "purity of colour

almost shadowless." The other, the Coronation of the Madonna, is less

excellent and has suffered from retouching. The Agony in the Garden

(in cell 34) contains a curious piece of mediaeval symbolism in the

presence of Mary and Martha, contemplation and action, the Mary being

here the Blessed Virgin. In the same cell is another of the

reliquaries from Santa Maria Novella, the Annunciation over the

Adoration of the Magi, with Madonna and Child, the Virgin Martyrs, the

Magdalene and St. Catherine of Siena below; the drawing is rather

faulty. In the following cells are the Last Supper (35), conceived

mystically as the institution of the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar,

with the Madonna alone as witness; the Deposition from the Cross (36);

and the Crucifixion (37), in which Dominic stands with out-stretched

arms.

Opposite on the right (38-39) is the great cell where Pope Eugenius

stayed on the occasion of the consecration of San Marco in 1442; here

Cosimo the Elder, Pater Patriae, spent long hours of his closing days,

in spiritual intercourse with St. Antoninus and after the latter's

death. In the outer compartment the Medicean saint, Cosmas, joins

Madonna and Peter Martyr at the foot of the Cross. Within are the

Adoration of the Magi and a Pieta, both from Angelico's hand, and the

former, one of his latest masterpieces, probably painted with

reference to the fact that the convent had been consecrated on the

Feast of the Epiphany. Here, too, is an old terracotta bust of

Antoninus, and a splendid but damaged picture of Cosimo himself by

Jacopo da Pontormo, incomparably finer than that artist's similarly

constructed work in the Uffizi. Between two smaller cells containing

Crucifixions, both apparently by Angelico himself (42-43--the former

with the Mary and Martha motive at the foot of the Cross), is the

great Greek Library, built by Michelozzo for Cosimo. Here Cosimo

deposited a portion of the manuscripts which had been collected by

Niccolo Niccoli, with additions of his own, and it became the first

public library in Italy. Its shelves are now empty and bare, but it

contains a fine collection of illuminated ritual books from suppressed

convents, several of which are, rather doubtfully, ascribed to

Angelico's brother, Fra Benedetto da Mugello.

It was in this library that Savonarola exercised for the last time his

functions of Prior of San Marco, and surrendered to the commissioners

of the Signoria, on the night of Palm Sunday, 1498. What happened had

best be told in the words of the Padre Pacifico Burlamacchi of the

same convent, Savonarola's contemporary and follower. After several

fictitious summonses had come:--

"They returned at last with the decree of the Signoria in writing, but

with the open promise that Fra Girolamo should be restored safe and

sound, together with his companions. When he heard this, he told them

that he would obey. But first he retired with his friars into the

Greek Library, where he made them in Latin a most beautiful sermon,

exhorting them to follow onwards in the way of God with faith, prayer,

and patience; telling them that it was necessary to go to heaven by

the way of tribulations, and that therefore they ought not in any way

to be terrified; alleging many old examples of the ingratitude of the

city of Florence in return for the benefits received from their Order.

As that of St. Peter Martyr who, after doing so many marvellous things

in Florence, was slain, the Florentines paying the price of his blood.

And of St. Catherine of Siena, whom many had sought to kill, after she

had borne so many labours for them, going personally to Avignon to

plead their cause before the Pope. Nor had less happened to St.

Antoninus, their Archbishop and excellent Pastor, whom they had once

wished to throw from the windows. And that it was no marvel, if he

also, after such sorrows and labourings, was paid at the end in the

same coin. But that he was ready to receive everything with desire and

happiness for the love of his Lord, knowing that in nought else

consisted the Christian life, save in doing good and suffering evil.

And thus, while all the bye-standers wept, he finished his sermon.

Then, issuing forth from the library, he said to those laymen who

awaited him: 'I will say to you what Jeremiah said: This thing I

expected, but not so soon nor so suddenly.' He exhorted them further

to live well and to be fervent in prayer. And having confessed to the

Father Fra Domenico da Pescia, he took the Communion in the first

library. And the same did Fra Domenico. After eating a little, he was

somewhat refreshed; and he spoke the last words to his friars,

exhorting them to persevere in religion, and kissing them all, he took

his last departure from them. In the parting one of his children said

to him: 'Father, why dost thou abandon us and leave us so desolate?'

To which he replied: 'Son, have patience, God will help you'; and he

added that he would either see them again alive, or that after death

he would appear to them without fail. Also, as he departed, he gave up

the common keys to the brethren, with so great humility and charity,

that the friars could not keep themselves from tears; and many of them

wished by all means to go with him. At last, recommending himself to

their prayers, he made his way towards the door of the library, where

the first Commissioners all armed were awaiting him; to whom, giving

himself into their hands like a most meek lamb, he said: 'I recommend

to you this my flock and all these other citizens.' And when he was in

the corridor of the library, he said: 'My friars, doubt not, for God

will not fail to perfect His work; and although I be put to death, I

shall help you more than I have done in life, and I will return

without fail to console you, either dead or alive.' Arrived at the

holy water, which is at the exit of the choir, Fra Domenico said to

him: 'Fain would I too come to these nuptials.' Certain of the laymen,

his friends, were arrested at the command of the Signoria. When the

Father Fra Girolamo was in the first cloister, Fra Benedetto, the

miniaturist, strove ardently to go with him; and, when the officers

thrust him back, he still insisted that he would go. But the Father

Fra Girolamo turned to him, and said: 'Fra Benedetto, on your

obedience come not, for I and Fra Domenico have to die for the love of

Christ.' And thus he was torn away from the eyes of his children."

The Story of Florence · 第 9 / 13 章