_Via Porta Rossa. No. 9._
The stern old Davanzati palace is more like a huge tower intended for
defence than a house to live in. The fine doorway, with Donatello’s
magnificent coat-of-arms high above it, leads into a curiously-shaped
courtyard, from which a covered staircase zigzags from one balcony
to another up to the loggia at the summit. The palazzo is a splendid
example of the architecture of the XIVth century, but who designed
it is not known. Sadly defaced by shops which crowd the ground floor
it has an air of squalor, which, however, does not detract from its
massive grandeur. The Davanzati built their palace on the site of
houses and towers which belonged to the ancient and powerful family
of the Bostichi, who had already fallen from their high estate before
Dante wrote. Later, Bernardo Davanzati, the translator of Tacitus,
added their name to his own, and attempted to claim an illusory
descent from them. He might have been satisfied with going back to his
gallant ancestor Davanzato, who fought in the ranks of the Guelphs at
Monteperti in 1260. His son Lottieri was five times a Prior, thrice
one of the Buonomini, and thrice Gonfalonier of his quarter; while
forty-four of the family sat at various times as Priors in the Palazzo
de’ Signori. Niccolò Davanzati founded the beautiful convent of Doccia
on the slopes of Fiesole in 1413,[31] and he probably also built this
fine palace.
[Illustration: COURTYARD OF PALAZZO DAVANZATI.]
The Davanzati must have been a clear-headed, well-spoken race, as
their name often appears among the ambassadors sent by Florence to
other states. In 1434 Giuliano, the son of Niccolò, “a strong man with
a fluent tongue,” Ammirato calls him, came to great honour. He was
Gonfalonier of Justice when Eugenius III. consecrated the cathedral
of Sta. Maria del Fiore, and during the service the Pope dubbed him
a Knight of the Golden Spur with his own hands. In memory of this a
shield with the arms of the Pope was placed, and still exists, on the
central pillar in the courtyard, with _Ex privilegio Eugenii III. D.
Julianus Davanzati eques_ inscribed below the coat-of-arms. Three of
the family--Giovanni, who fought at Poppi against the Prince of
Orange in 1529, his brother Piero, who was one of the Two Hundred in
1532, and Antonfrancesco, son of Giuliano, who was charged to provide
funds for provisioning the besieged city--were zealous patriots. The
latter was banished and died no one knows where, leaving his wife,
Lucrezia Ginori, with a little son, to whom, perceiving his uncommon
intelligence, “as fertile land left uncultivated produces more weeds
than sterile soil,” she gave an excellent education. Bernardo was put
into the bank when a lad, but devoted all the time he could spare from
business to classical and economic studies, and at eighteen was already
a member of the Academy of Florence.
Grazzini, better known as Lasca, one of the founders of the Academy,
quarrelled with his fellow-academicians and wrote a sarcastic poem, in
which young Bernardo Davanzati is the only member he does not abuse.
“Quel garzonetto non ha’n corpo fiele;
Poi fa si belle e si dotte orazioni,
Che chi non l’ama e ben goffo e crudele.
Calate omai le vele,
O tutti voi dal maggiore al minore,
Che siete dolci e di mezzo sapore.
E se bramate onore,
Fate nell’academia sopratutto
Favellar sempre e legger quel bel putto.”[32]
Bernardo Davanzati’s translation of Tacitus is remarkable for
conciseness and force of language, though occasionally lacking in
dignity. He also wrote one of the first treatises on coinage, _Della
Moneta_, another on Tuscan agriculture, and a history of the separation
of England from the Church of Rome, _Storia della Scisma_. “He was,”
writes Francesco Rondinelli, “of small stature and dark complexion.
His eyes were bright, his hair black, and he had but little beard. The
forehead was furrowed and lined, as were his cheeks, and his aspect
was somewhat stern. In dress he favoured the parsimony and decorum of
ancient times; sober in eating and drinking, curt and straightforward
in speech, for words, like coins, are more esteemed when they contain
large value in a small compass. By some he was called _Peppercorn_,
it may be from his brown and wrinkled face, but more likely from the
knowledge, sharp wit and learning contained in so small a body. He
was impatient of praise, never esteeming his work perfect. The errors
of others he blamed by silence rather than by correction, and often
lamented that fortune did not favour those honest, good and modest
men, who doing much and asking little, are not appreciated; but rather
certain presumptuous people, who have an excellent opinion of and
praise themselves, though they are of small account. Besides Latin, he
knew Greek, and was a good arithmetician; his judgment was so excellent
in all things that he enjoyed the singular happiness of hearing his
works praised during his lifetime. It was said by a man of great
learning that he collected the jewels of Florentine speech from the
pebbles of the Arno, to set in the gold of Tacitus.”
Bernardo’s grandson and namesake came to an untimely death by throwing
himself off the top of the tower of the old palace into the courtyard
below. The family, by a curious fatality, came to an end by the death
of Carlo Davanzati in 1838, in the same way and at the same spot. The
palace now belongs to Signor Volpi.