Florentine villas

It is strange no records remain about either the building or the builder of Villa Salviati, one of the finest and most widely known villas round Florence. But a search among archives and chronicles has only elicited the meagre facts that in 1100 a fastness stood on the site of the present villa and was owned by the Montegonzi, who about the year 1450 sold it to Messer Alemanno Salviati. It was then described as “a strong castle with towers and battlements,” which suggests the idea that the last members of the Montegonzi may have transformed their twelfth century fastness into a fortress-villa, and the rich and powerful Salviati no doubt added to its splendour and magnificence. One is tempted to think the great architect Michelozzi must have been called in, so strong is the resemblance of Villa Salviati to his known works Cafaggiuolo and Careggi. Certainly it belongs to his epoch, 1396-1472, and the bastion-like walls, the towers and machicolations give the impression that he who commissioned the villa lived at a time when a dwelling-house in town or on the hills within sight of the city, had also to be a fortress and serve as a place of refuge during civil strife. The only positive information about the villa we have from Vasari, who tells us that in 1529 it was besieged and burnt during the siege by the Florentine mob, when all the fine sculptures by Giovan Francesco Rustici were destroyed; but like Careggi its massive walls must have withstood the fire. In more modern times a pent-roof, as at Careggi and Cafaggiuolo, was placed above its battlements in the vain endeavour to hide its war-like aspect, and layers of pink and chocolate coloured paint now give a somewhat artificial and mean appearance to what really is a magnificently proportioned and boldly conceived fortress-villa. The principal block of building rises in the form of a massive tower, crenelated and with bastioned walls sloping out on to the grass terrace, while the remainder rises round a courtyard with elegant Renaissance arches and capitals of grey Fiesole stone, and then broadens out at each corner into a tall tower whence, in days of trouble between noble and citizen, the retainers of the Salviati must have often watched for the sign of coming danger.

Certainly as we walk round the villa, especially on its north side where it looks towards the double-peaked hill of Fiesole, seen somewhat bleak on a winter’s day, our mind is full of mediæval Florence, of a time before the nobles built such peaceful dwelling-houses with terraced gardens as the Villa Palmieri for instance, just in sight across the narrow valley of the Mugnone. Viewed only from this its austerest aspect the Salviati villa would be beautiful indeed, but unlike any other we know of it possesses a very different side of which Zocchi shows us something. An eighteenth century owner, feeling perhaps that the somewhat menacing look of his ancestral villa ill coincided with the more joyous tastes of his day, laid out the enchanting rococo orange houses with graceful balustrade ornamented with vases and a clock tower. Joined on to the villa at right angles and built in so opposite a style, it yet fascinates by very contrast, leading the eye gradually to feast with delight upon the terraced gardens laid out with such taste by Jacopo Salviati in 1510. From under the heavy foliage of the ilexes, trimmed and trained so closely as to let no glimpse of sky be seen between their branches, we look out across the city of Florence to the hill of San Miniato, a view, it is true, familiar to everyone who has walked on these slopes, but what a different foreground we have here! Where in Italy can one see not only so fair a city, bell-towers, domes and palaces, the late afternoon sun playing soft lights about them so that they seem distant, ethereal and shrouded in a thin faint film of golden mist; but between us and this fairy city lie two small lakelets, one below the other, their shining limpid water catching every glint of light till the sun shall have dropt behind the Signa hills. All the winds are hushed in this dell. They move the leaves and sway the branches of the narrow wood above, but here reigns a peace such as one finds in northern valleys, even the thin sharp shadows across the pools, from the clumps of white plumes of the pampas grass and the aloes in flower upon the banks, lie still on the unruffled surface of their waters.

The rich and powerful family of Salviati descended from a doctor, Messer Salvi di Maestro Guglielmo di Forese di Gottifredo, of great reputation in Florence towards the end of the thirteenth century. His two sons, Cambio and Lotto, both became Priors of the city, and altogether the Salviati had sixty-three Priors and twenty-one Gonfaloniers in their family. A grandson of Lotto, named Forese, was extremely popular, and distinguished himself first as a diplomatist and afterwards as Captain-General of the Tuscan Romagna in 1397; and his descendants served the Republic with honour as soldiers or as envoys and ambassadors. The only one of the family whose name is still a by-word in Florence was Giuliano, son of Francesco Salviati and Laudomia de’ Medici. One of the first to incite the mob to plunder the Medici palaces and deface their arms when driven from Florence in 1527, he afterwards became the boon companion of the dissolute Duke Alessandro, and he it was who insulted Luisa Strozzi at a masked ball and paid for it by being maimed for life by her brother; whilst his wife was always supposed to have been instrumental in poisoning the beautiful and virtuous woman who had resented the infamous behaviour of the Duke and of Salviati. Fortunately that branch of the family ended with his daughter. A very different man was his cousin Jacopo Salviati, married to Lucrezia, daughter to Lorenzo the Magnificent and sister to Leo X, with whom Jacopo was a favourite. He was the one man amongst the envoys from Florence who dared to raise his voice at the court of Clement VII, against creating the bastard Alessandro de’ Medici absolute Lord of Florence, and against building the great fortress of San Giovanni, now called Fortezza da Basso, to dominate the town. Setting forth how at the death of Leo X, the citizens of Florence had preserved the State for the Medici, he contended that the best and surest fortress was the love of the people, who are content when food is abundant and justice properly administered. And when Filippo Strozzi argued against him Jacopo turned round saying, “Filippo, either you speak not your thoughts, or if you think as you speak you think amiss”; then as though gifted with the spirit of prophecy he continued, “God grant that in advocating the building of this fortress Filippo is not preparing his own grave.” “For these words,” as Varchi who describes the scene writes, “the Pope called him no more to council, and those citizens who once bore him on the palms of their hands avoided him ... and his dependants who had received favours from him turned away when they saw him in the distance.”

Maria, daughter of Jacopo Salviati, married Giovanni de’ Medici surnamed Delle Bande Nere, and was the mother of Cosimo I, to whom she in vain preached moderation and respect for the law. Three of her brothers joined the anti-Medicean faction and were implicated in every attempt to dethrone their nephew; but Messer Alamanno, the youngest, was one of the most trusted counsellors of the two Dukes Alessandro and Cosimo and left enormous wealth to his son Jacopo. Clement VIII, created Lorenzo Salviati, Jacopo’s son, a Marquis after he had bought the castles and lands of Giuliano and Rocca Massima, and Urban VIII, made his grandson Jacopo, who married Donna Veronica Cybo, daughter of the Prince of Massa, Duke of Giuliano. The following account of the marriage by a contemporary was, according to that excellent Italian fashion, privately printed in honour of a marriage some thirty years ago. I have translated the whole letter for the curious insight it gives into the manners of that day.

“Being sure of giving Your Excellency agreeable tidings, I send a detailed account of the marriage of my Lord the Duke of Salviati and of my Lady Donna Veronica, which causes the people the more joy that my Lords the Prince and the Princess are so gratified thereat.

“My Lord the Duke was to be in Massa on the 27th and sent one of his gentlemen on the day before to announce his arrival; he sent to the Duchess his wife four most beautiful dresses with jewels to match; one was white, one of flax-flower blue, one turquoise and one crimson, all enriched with gold and as yet uncut. At the same time I was sent by Their Excellencies to meet the Lord Duke and kiss his hands. We arrived at sundown at Massa, and at Salto della Cervia the Lord Marquis of Carrara,⁠[60] accompanied by many gentlemen and 100 archibusiers of Massa on horseback, met H.E., and soon afterwards the Prince himself with many gentlemen and 80 archibusiers of Carrara and his usual bodyguard came in sight. When we reached Nostra Signora del Monte the salvos of artillery from the castle began which made a fine effect, as besides the heavy artillery, which Y.E. knows of, and the 200 spingards, the Prince had placed 500 musketeers, who repeated the salvos, and thus the castle seemed no less terrific than pleasing.

“When we reached the palace the Duke retired to his apartments and sent to ask permission of the Prince, my master, to present some flowers he had brought from Florence to his bride; these were enclosed in a gilt enamelled glove box, and in other velvet cases were a ring with a splendid diamond, a necklace of very large diamonds, a jewel of large diamonds with a feather also of diamonds and a large pearl at the tip; these, with the chain of diamonds which the Duke had already sent with his portrait in a jewelled box, certainly were worth more than 15000 scudi. That same evening my comedy was acted and proved a success. The wedding was on Monday morning, and when the bride and bridegroom left the palace and entered the Piazza a squadron of 1000 musketeers fired a salute, which was repeated at the bestowal of the ring and when they returned to the palace. The ring was splendid, my Lord Duke not permitting that the one sent before the marriage should be used, but this other special one. The Duchess was attired most richly in white, adorned with the jewels given to her the day before. My Lord Duke was habited in blue, but the extreme richness of the suit rendered it useless and of such weight that it could only be worn for a few hours and he was begged by all to change. If the first was rich the second was not less elegant, and every day H.E. wore a new suit each one more beautiful than the last; and he bestowed one on that silly buffoon of a doctor, who was present at all the marriage feasts, of cloth of gold embroidered also in gold, and the said doctor made a good meal one morning, filling himself with doubloons and zecchins given him by all the Seigneury who were at table.

“On the night of the marriage there was a splendid entertainment; seventy-four ladies were there unmasked and forty-eight came masked, divided in companies of six, variously costumed in appropriate and pleasing dresses. Although the room was large four rows of seats were none too many and all passed with great order and contentment. Next day at a game my Lord Duke gave, with a pretty pretext, a bottle containing 500 zecchins to the bride. That and the following days were spent in feasting and festivity, and for an improvised masquerade the Duke caused a hat to be made for my Lady Duchess with a rich garland of diamonds and under the brim he placed a very large diamond worth 14000 scudi. The Duke asked to see the castle and was received with much honour, and left a good present to each soldier and bombardier and a chain worth 100 scudi to the Castellan.

“The charitable gifts to convents and other institutions are also worthy of note, amounting to some hundreds of scudi. On the palace guard and the company of archibusiers which accompanied him to the confines of Tuscany with my Lord the Prince, he also bestowed largesse. Not only has he given to all but he also caused his bride to give to many; among others to her sister-in-law Princess Fulvia⁠[61] she gave two of those dress-lengths sent to her by the Duke and the others she left to Donna Placidia, her sister. The Duke has bestowed many chains, besides presents in money, to the officers and to many others; and the Prince, my master, has at his request condoned many punishments, pardoned many exiles and released all the prisoners who were in the castle when he visited it. The Prince also insisted on giving a horse which once belonged to the Duke, and has been cured of vicious tricks so as now to be most pleasant to ride, back to him, and with it another which he thought the Duke admired. Also knowing his love of pictures my master gave him one by Raffaelle d’Urbino, besides hounds and a body-slave who waited on him here. The Princess, my mistress, gave him most finely worked linen shirts, and Don Alessandro an archibuse of perfect workmanship and great beauty.

“To sum up, my Lord the Duke has been pleased with Massa and Massa pleased with my Lord Duke, as he is open-handed and of exquisite tact in all his dealings. All thought the Duchess very handsome as is but natural, she being of this house and sister to Princess Maria;⁠[62] and I hope Tuscany will be no less satisfied with the Duchess Salviati than is Lombardy with the Princess della Mirandola. God preserve them both in the prosperity which he has granted them.

“Bride and bridegroom took their departure on Friday morning in the Duke’s travelling carriage, which is so splendid that it would be sumptuous in a city; and were followed also by the lettiga (litter carried by mules), with velvet lining and golden fringes, columns of silver and beautiful carving; on a par with the magnificence of all else. Twelve grooms there were in livery and many gentlemen of goodly presence. Having thus satisfied my desire to serve Y.E. in a way that I know to be pleasing unto you, I kiss your hands, wishing you every felicity.

“Giulio Beggio. Massa, 5th March 1628.”⁠[63]

The glowing description of Donna Veronica given by the obsequious courtier of the house of Massa was not ratified by Florentine opinion. One old writer declares: “Donna Veronica was endowed with but small beauty, but per contra with a most violent and imperious temper and a jealous disposition. Her husband, poor man, had small joy with her.” Duke Jacopo Salviata, handsome, gallant and accomplished, a brave soldier and an elegant poet, soon found his loveless life hard to bear, and some eight years after his marriage met (for her misfortune) the beautiful woman popularly called “the fair Cherubim” from her silken, wavy, golden hair and her exquisite colouring. The following account by an anonymous writer of the time, existing in manuscript in the Marucelliana library at Florence, tells the tragic tale graphically, and has, I believe, never been published.

“All know of how much perfidy and cruelty a woman is capable when moved by a spirit of vengeance, particularly when roused thereto by offended love. I have often heard recounted a case which happened in the city of Florence, and will describe it as far as my feeble memory permits. There was in Florence a gentleman of the old and honourable family of the Canaccj named Giustino, well-known to me and to many still alive. He was considered a man of but small sense because, having several grown-up children by a first wife and being near seventy years of age, he took as his second wife a young girl called Caterina, inferior to himself in rank but endowed with marvellous beauty, daughter to a dyer from the Casentino. Now Giustino was also the ugliest, the most tiresome and the dirtiest man then in Florence, which encouraged many to solicit the good graces of Caterina who, though apparently leading a modest life, at length they said listened to Lorenzo da Jacopo Serzelli and to Vincenzio Carlini, a young Florentine who has now changed his habit and way of life, being the head of that hospital commonly called Bonifazio. There were also two youths, familiars of Jacopo Salviati Duke of Giuliano the greatest personage for birth, enormous wealth and other admirable qualities in the city of Florence, always excepting the Princes of the ruling house, who a few years before had taken to wife Donna Veronica daughter to Don Carlo Cybo, Prince of Massa and Carrara. This lady had not much beauty, but such pride and conceit that the Duke was driven to seek for comfort elsewhere. Once introduced to Caterina, the Duke, not to excite the suspicions of his wife, excused his occasional absences by an obligation to attend one of those Confraternities which meet only at night, and in Florence are called Bucche (Holes), this one was named after St Anthony and situated in Pinti near Santa Maria Maddalena; and leaving it at a late hour he went to Caterina’s house in Via de’ Pilastri near S. Ambrogio. But he could not prevent this reaching the ears of the Duchess, who with other qualities possessed that of jealousy in a superlative degree.

“It was rumoured, but I do not know if it be true, that the Duchess entered San Pier Maggiore one morning where was Caterina whom she knew well by sight, and as though by chance Donna Veronica placed herself by her side and in a few words bade her never again speak to her husband under pain of her dire displeasure. And Caterina replied, perchance with more arrogance and spirit than became her condition, thus increasing the ire of the Duchess and ensuring her own ruin. The Duke’s love grew every day and the Duchess determined to cut the thread; rumour has it that she tried to poison Caterina, but failing, determined to take vengeance in another way; and she did it with such cruelty and barbarity that one may rightly say it was done according to Genoese fashion, and it was as follows:—

“She contrived, according to what was said at the time and it seems to be truth, to get hold of the brothers Bartolomeo and Francesco, sons of Giustino Canaccj, youths of about twenty-four or twenty-five, who though they did not inhabit, yet frequented their step-mother’s house; and after much talk representing to them how her licentious life brought ignominy on themselves and their posterity and that as persons of birth and consideration it behoved them to free themselves of her presence, she promised if they would do this not only to give them every help but such protection as would save them from any peril, and as they were poor she also promised to grant them a life-long allowance. I am by no means certain that the Duchess spake thus to both, or only to Bartolomeo the elder brother, who as we shall see was present at the misdeed and paid the penalty. It was said that the brothers, or the one, as it may have been, at first refused, but the offers being at length accompanied by threats they agreed to introduce into their step-mother’s house those persons chosen by the Duchess to work their vengeance (which was in truth her own) on poor Caterina. Some imagined that one of the reasons which led Bartolomeo to assist in the murder of his step-mother was her rejection of his love. Now as such things have occurred I do not absolutely deny that it may have been so, but it seems unlikely to me that Bartolomeo would have been received in his father’s house, also people would have talked much about it and I never remember to have heard it mentioned. Anyhow the Duchess got four assassins from Massa, and they entered one by one into the city so as to avoid observation and suspicion and were kept by her until the time was ripe for effecting her abominable project, which was not until the night of 31st December 1638, and was in this guise. At about three hours of the night Bartolomeo Canaccj, accompanied by the aforesaid bandits who stood at the opposite side of the street in the shade, knocked at his step-mother’s door; her maid looked out of the window and asked who was there, and on his answering friends she recognised his voice and drew the cord of the latch; when Bartolomeo and the assassins rushed up the stairs with such fury that Lorenzo Serzelli and Messer Vincenzio Carlini, who were talking with Caterina, suspected some evil thing and springing to their feet had hardly time to fly by another staircase on to the roof, whence they escaped to a neighbouring house, before the ruffians with naked swords in their hands appeared at the door. Poor Caterina was then murdered by these infamous executors of the barbarous cruelty of the Duchess, together with her maid probably to prevent her from giving evidence. After which the bodies of these two most unfortunate women were cut into pieces, carried silently out of the house and put into a carriage; parts of the bodies were thrown down a well at the corner of Via de’ Pentolini and Piazza Sant’ Ambrogio, others were thrown into the Arno and found next day, all save the head of poor Caterina which those murderers carried to the Duchess for the full execution of this Tragedy as shall be hereafter set forth.

“All these particulars were seen by Carlini and Serzelli, who with hot haste had left the house where they had taken refuge and knocked at one opposite to Caterina’s where lived a well-known woman commonly called Aunt Nannina, because three of the most famous courtezans of our day were her nieces. The door was at once opened to them, and from a slit in the window of an upstairs room they saw and heard what I have related.

“Now the Duchess, by one of her waiting-women, was used to send to the Duke’s room on Sundays and other holidays a silver basin covered with a fair cloth, containing collars, cuffs and such-like things which the Duke was wont to change on those days. But on this the 1st of January, a day sacred to Christians because on it is celebrated the circumcision of Our Lord and also because according to the rites of the Roman Church it is the beginning of the year, the present sent was of a different nature. Taking the head of poor Caterina, which though bloodless and cold yet preserved the beauty which had been the cause of her death, the Duchess placed it in the basin, covered it with the usual cloth and sent it by her waiting-woman, who knew nought of the business, into the Duke’s room. When he rose and lifted the cloth to take his clean linen, let his horror be pictured when he saw such a pitiful sight. It is not my intention to describe here the lamentations, the sorrow, the anguish and the tears shed over the lifeless head of his love; they can be better imagined than writ with a pen. Knowing full well that his wife had done this deed he would have no more of her, and for many a long year refused to be where she was. When she came to Florence, he left for one of his villas, or for Rome where he had large estates; and if she went to a villa or to Rome, incontinently he returned to Florence.

“But to return to our lamentable story. When the murder was known next day and the bodies of the unfortunate women were recognised, Giustino Canaccj, the husband of Caterina, and Bartolomeo and Francesco his sons were seized and imprisoned together with another son, whose name I forget, with his wife and an unmarried daughter of the said Giustino and one married to Luigi Tedaldi as well as Luigi himself. But against those scoundrels who committed the murder, either because the court had no knowledge of them, or because they had taken refuge in flight, or for some other occult reason, no steps were taken, nor against their principal; so true is the common saying that justice acts only against the poor, and that laws are like cobwebs, which catch flies and such small creatures while large ones tear and break them. Of the above-named prisoners, Giustino, his daughters, his step-son and the other son with his wife were liberated after a time as innocent; but Bartolomeo and Francesco were kept in prison and subjected to torture. Francesco, either really innocent and not present at the murder, or more prudent, or perchance more fortunate, confessed nothing and after many months was set free; but Bartolomeo, they say, whether truly or not will never be known, confessed to have aided in this terrible affair and on the ... of 1639 was beheaded in the doorway of the Bargello. Small applause did justice get for this execution, good citizens being scandalized that the less guilty one who had been, as we say, dragged into the business by the hair of his head and was known to have been a poor wretch of small wit, and thought to have been tortured into saying more than he knew, should suffer capital punishment; while the real delinquent, the principal and head of it all, received no punishment save perchance from her own conscience and sense of shame. It is true, and it was said at the time, that Madame Christine of Lorraine, grandmother to the Grand Duke Ferdinando II, a princess of great learning, good and pious, and very zealous in the cause of justice, horrified by so atrocious a deed wished to have the Duchess arrested; but as soon as the murder had been committed she fled to her villa of S. Cerbone, and warned of her danger left for Rome; so justice contented itself with exiling her, but the sentence was soon commuted.

“Such was the end of the barbarity and cruelty of Duchess Veronica which I have described at length, not from any love of evil-speaking, but from the desire to enlighten posterity. The more so that it was said that justice, if it merits the name, in order to save the great bore heavy on the weak and, as we say, to throw dust in the eyes of the public, drew up two statements, one true which remained hid, one false which was published to the world. Let those who read these my recollections remember that our proverbs are always apt, and that whoso forgathers with great people is the last at table and the first at the gallows.”

Cardinal Gregorio, the last of this branch of the Salviati, left his villa in 1794 to his niece Anna, married to Prince Borghese. Her two sons Prince Cammillo Borghese and Prince Don Francesco Aldobrandino inherited it at her death in 1809, and the three sons of the latter, Prince Marc’ Antonio Borghese, Prince Cammillo Aldobrandini and Duke Scipione Salviati sold it to Mr Vansittart in 1844. Later the old place once more changed hands and became the property of the Duke of Candia, better known as Mario, whose glorious voice, charming and courtly manners and great personal beauty will be remembered by many of my readers. When Garibaldi was in Florence he paid a visit to Mario and Grisi, and a remarkably ill-painted picture still hanging in the corridor of Villa Salviati commemorates the scene. M. Hagermann, a Swede, bought the villa from Mario, and his heirs have lately sold it to Signor Turri.