PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION

1912

A SENTENCE from a "Synthetical Guide-book" which used to be circulated in the Florentine hotels will express what I want to say, at the threshold of this volume, much better than could unaided words of mine. It runs thus : "The natural 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 together, of which I have been indebted to many authors : notably Vasari, Symonds, Crowe and Cavalcaselle, Ruskin, Pater, and Baedeker. Among more recent books I would mention Herr, Bode's "Florentine Sculptors of the Renaissance," Mr. K 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.

PREFACE TO TENTH EDITION

1923

THE picture galleries of the chief European combatants were disarranged by the war, many works being hidden away through danger from the air. Not yet are those in Florence all in order again, but I have been able to provide a true finger-post to most of them, and, with the kind assistance of Professors Nello Tarchiane, the director of the Museo of S. Marco, to indicate what will be the permanent disposition of the works of art.

In the present edition the new arrangement and numbering of the Uffizi pictures are noted ; and the new arrangement of the Accademia, the Museo of S. Marco and of the Bargello. Lest the treasures of any of the galleries be subjected to further change, which seems likely, I have prepared so full a new index, in which every work of art that is mentioned in the book has a reference, that I have, I hope, protected its readers against confusion for many years to come. At least they will be able to find quickly what is said about the more remarkable things, even if it is no longer said in the right place.

The King of Italy's recent gift of various royal palaces and other properties to the State will lead to the reorganization of the Pitti. Whether or no this will affect the picture rooms I cannot say—probably not for a long while, anyway—but the others are all to be remodeled. I find from a recent number of Daedalo, the Italian art monthly, that the Directorate has decided "that the ground floor of the Palazzo, in prolongation of the present Argenti Gallery, shall contain the gems, jewels, ambers, ivories and rock crystals now distributed among the Uffizi Gallery, Palazzo Pitti and the National Museum of Florence, and that added to them shall be the precious objects lately restored by Austria, so that, the opportunity having now arisen, the Lorenzo-Medicean collection, once dispersed, may be again reconstructed. Moreover, three rooms on the same floor, together with the apartment between the ground floor and the upper one forming the Palatine Gallery, shall be set aside for the porcelains once belonging to the Palace, for the precious stuffs formerly on exhibition in the second floor of the Crocetta palace, and for the other nuclei at present contained in different museums of the town ; also, the Palatine Gallery shall be further enlarged by the addition of the space on the first floor known as the Volterrano, which up to 1860 did in fact form part of the Palatine Gallery, while the first floor of the Palace shall be adorned with furniture, pictures, tapestries, statues, bronzes and so on, thus constituting, if not a real museum, at least a series of rooms richly and becomingly arranged with suitable objects chosen from among the best of the Palace itself and in the royal villas of Castello, Petraja, and Poggio a Cajano, and displacing the modern furniture which has hitherto disgraced the dwelling. Furthermore, in the same rooms shall be hung the tapestries now recovered from the Crocetta Museum, so that the whole apartment shall on solemn occasions serve as a proper setting for the Sovereign."

Lastly, it is proposed to bring the collection of modern Italian pictures from the top floor of the Accademia to the Pitti.

Compilers of guide-books too soon make the bitter discovery that either the time is always ripe for a new edition, or never. I am inclined to think never, and am fortified in that belief by the circumstance that just as I was leaving Florence after a fortnight spent in the present revision I learned of two changes more, in addition to all those hinted at above.

To the Commune has just been left the palace and collection of the late Stefano Bardini, the dealer, who died recently at a great age. In the eighteen-seventies Bardini was the leading art dealer of the world, and it was through his instrumentality, not always, I believe, too scrupulously exerted, that many priceless works of art found their way from Italy to other countries. The Kaiser-Friedrich Museum in Berlin would certainly be, in its Renaissance sculpture, only a shadow of what it is but for Bardini, and it was he who with his own hands removed the lovely Botticelli frescoes from the Villa Lemmi and sold them to the Louvre. He has, however, made some amends for his spoliation and exportation by bequeathing to his home city all his own treasures, which are chiefly decorative objects, in stone and marble, ranging from the Romanesque period to the Quattrocento, and numerous beautiful domestic articles of the Renaissance.

The other change, nearer completion, bears upon the greatest Florentine of all—Dante. The Commune was in some doubt as to a fitting commemoration of the sixth centenary of Dante's death when Vieusseux's famous circulating library, the natural home from home of all English visitors, became its property, and some one had the brilliant idea of reclaiming the Palazzo di Paste Guelfa, that massive building which Brunelleschi himself designed and which latterly has been the head-quarters of the Fire Brigade, putting it back into something as like its mediaeval form as could be, consistently with performing the duties of a modern literary centre, and lodging Vieusseux there. The circumstance that Dante was a Ghibelline was considered unimportant ; the great thing was to restore a beautiful house.

I watched the pious labour in process in October, 1922, and never had so vivid an idea of what Florence must have been like in the fifteenth century, when the city was informed by the spirit of pride and everyone was giving his best to make her great and comely. The house resembled a hive. Here masons were cutting marble, with the most exquisite skill; there great stones were being set in place; on this ladder an artist was touching up a fresco brought back from the Duomo to its original site; on that ladder another artist was re-colouring a ceiling ; meanwhile the architect of the restoration was overlooking all, much as Brunelleschi did, save that Brunelleschi had more picturesque clothes and smoked no cigarette. Some of the books were already in place, and for the first time in my life, in Brunelleschi's basement, I came across a complete file of the Sixpenny Magazine.

The two most notable features of this fine Palazzo di Paste Guelfa are a courtyard, with a double row of those delicate cool arches of which Brunelleschi had the secret, and a magnificent upper room, with a massive wooden ceiling, in which lectures are to be given.

But in itself Florence never changes. Except that all entrance fees are now two lire instead of one, and that more motor cars hoot in streets never intended for them,it is the same city as when I saw it first, in 1898: noisier certainly, a shade more restless perhaps, but still beautiful, still irresistible, still unique.

The Santa Croce guide—Alfred Branconi—whom I found so useful and enthusiastic in 1912—has so enlarged his scope that he is to be seen in the picture galleries too, pointing to the best. But I have not tested him there.

E. V. L.

February, 1923