“E sol risuona,
E Maddalena intuona
La valle, il colle, il monte, il prato il bosco
Di questo lido Tosco,
E’l Ciel, l’Aria, e la Terra e l’Onda piena
Cosmo, Cosmo risponde, e Maddalena.”

After this the Princes retired by the corridor to the Palazzo Pitti, the Archduchess graciously inviting the ladies present to follow her as far as the gallery, where a long row of tables were laden with delicate sugarplums and confectionery. What they could not eat or carry away was seized by the populace which streamed in; the Princes watched with great amusement the demolition of all that rare food, and then withdrew to their rooms.

Cosimo II. and his Austrian wife only used the old palace occasionally for receptions and banquets. Their son, that morose bigot Cosimo III., when he lost all hope of seeing any descendants from his two sons, proclaimed his daughter Anna Maria Luisa, married to the Elector Palatine, heiress to the throne in the great hall. His proclamation was, however, futile, and in 1723 his son Giovan Gastone solemnly received the Infante Don Carlos at the door of the Palazzo Vecchio as heir to the throne. Austria, however, interfered, and Francesco of Lorraine was proclaimed as future Grand Duke of Tuscany. In 1737 his representative received the oath of allegiance, and two years later the Grand Duke visited Florence, and splendid festivities were given in his honour. But the Florentines were very sore at his departure for Vienna after a short visit, and still sorer at the invasion of Lorrainers and Austrians, who filled so many of the Government posts. In 1745 Francesco II. became Emperor of Austria, and his second son Pietro Leopoldo succeeded to the Grand Duchy. Zoby, in his History of Tuscany, describes how the Senate of the Forty-eight, the Council of the Two Hundred and the principal magistrates of Florence, assembled in the great hall of the Palazzo Vecchio, where a throne had been placed for the Grand Duke. The late Emperor’s will, leaving Tuscany to his second son, was read aloud, and at the same time the renunciation by the Emperor Joseph to any claims thereon. But Joseph died, and once more a Tuscan Grand Duke became Emperor of Austria, to the sorrow of his Italian subjects, who had learned to appreciate Pietro Leopoldo at his proper value. His second son, Ferdinando, became Grand Duke, and in 1791 a fair was held in the Piazza, the Loggia de’ Lanzi was turned into a garden illuminated with many lamps, and a magnificent pavilion was erected in front of the old palace for the Court. Eight years later Ferdinando III. with his wife and four children were driven out of Florence by General Gaulthier in the name Of the Directoire. A Tree of Liberty was set up in the middle of the Piazza della Signoria, newly christened della Libertà, and the French flag was hoisted on the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio. Giovanni da Bologna’s fine statue of Cosimo III. was about to be destroyed and melted down for the benefit of the poor, but was saved by the presence of mind of the President of the Buon Governo and of the advocate Paolini, who remonstrated with the mob, which had already tied ropes round the horse to pull it down, saying that it was a pity to destroy the effigy of despotism which now witnessed the restoration of liberty in Florence. The Marquess Gino Capponi gives a vivid account of the behaviour of the French soldiers in his Ricordi. He saw them depart, and was in the Piazza when, after months of silence, the great bell once more rang out at midday and all present sank on their knees at the beloved sound.

The old palace saw one ruler after another pass through its great hall like puppets. Ferdinando III. returned for some months, but was soon driven out again by the French. Then Tuscany for a few years became the Kingdom of Etruria, only to be merged in the French Empire in 1808, and the following year Napoleon I. again created a Grand Duchy of Tuscany, and gave it to his sister Elise Baciocchi, who was already Duchess of Lucca and Princess of Piombino.

The roof of the Palazzo Vecchio had for some time been in a bad state, and the municipal architect, G. del Rosso, was charged to survey the whole building. In 1809 the work began. The reservoir for rain water made by Michelozzi had become useless, and was only an additional weight on the columns of the courtyard, so it was done away with, the cornice was renewed, and windows, which had been arbitrarily pierced here and there, were closed and the ancient ones restored. Del Rosso was forced to whitewash the walls of the courtyard, decorated with the golden lilies of Anjou on a blue ground—an emblem utterly distasteful to the new ruler. The stucco ornaments of the columns, and the frescoes in the vaults and round the courtyard had suffered terribly, and were carefully renovated, but those of the Austrian towns are now once more almost invisible. In order to avoid the incessant passage of the soldiers through the courtyard to their guardroom, del Rosso was ordered to make an entrance from the outside, and this necessitated the destruction of the old ringhiera, so intimately connected with the history of Florence. Part of it had already disappeared when Ammannati set up his huge, ugly fountain at the northern angle—il Biancone the Florentines call it—still it was with unwilling hands that del Rosso levelled what remained and made the platform, the steps and the door immediately under the balcony. The ancient Marzocco, which had lost all semblance of a lion, was removed, and on its beautiful base was put the one by Donatello (replaced by a copy in 1885). It was at this time that the Alberghettino was discovered in the tower.

With the fall of Napoleon ended the rule of his sister Elise, and the Grand Duke Ferdinando III. once more returned to Tuscany. He was succeeded in 1824 by his son Leopoldo II., under whose reign the lovely tower of the old palace was restored to its pristine beauty by having the plaster and whitewash, with which it had been bedaubed a century before, removed. The architect, Giuseppe Martelli, also took down one of the supporting corbels of the tower, which being of friable sandstone was breaking away under the great weight of 67,908 chilogrammes which rested on it. It was replaced by one of hard stone, and at the same time the arms of the Florentine Republic round the top of the palace were freed from whitewash and restored.

On the 17th February, 1848, the Grand Duke Leopoldo II. inaugurated the first parliament of constitutional government in the Hall of the Five Hundred. But one ministry after another fell, and the following year the Grand Duke abandoned Tuscany. A provisional government abolished the Senate and the Council in favour of an assembly of representatives of the people, elected by universal suffrage. There was fighting in the streets of Florence and the friends of Austria were scheming to bring back Leopoldo II., so in April, 1849, a Commission, amongst whom were Bettino Ricasoli and Gino Capponi, was named, which not only met in the Palazzo Vecchio to conduct the government of the country, but lived there as the Republican Signoria had done in former times. A month later the Austrians entered Florence and the Grand Duke’s representative took up his abode in the old palace, in front of which was placed an iron railing where once was the ringhiera, behind which Austrian sentinels paced backwards and forwards.

On the morning of the 27th April, 1859, Florence awoke to the cry of Viva l’Italia and the same evening the Grand Ducal family once more took the well-known road to Vienna, while the tricolour flag was hoisted on the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio amid the exultant shouts of the crowd below. Four months later, in the Hall of the Five Hundred, Baron Ricasoli, a descendant of the Bettino Ricasoli who in the middle of the XIVth century locked the door and sat upon the keys until his party had won the day, ended his speech with these words: “Let us remember that while in this hall, which has not echoed to the voice of liberty for three centuries, we are dealing with the affairs of Tuscany, our thoughts must be turned to Italy;” and one by one the deputies passed in front of the provisional ministry, and dropped into the urn their votes for the union of Tuscany to the Kingdom of Italy under King Victor Emanuel.

1860 awoke to the sound of the big bell of the Palazzo Vecchio calling the people to a plebiscite. The result was proclaimed from the platform, which had replaced the ancient ringhiera, to the crowd which had waited for hours in the Piazza, as 366,571 ayes, out of 386,445 voters. H.H. Prince Eugenio of Savoia Carignano, the King’s cousin, was named Viceroy of Tuscany and Baron Bettino Ricasoli Governor, with his official residence in the Palazzo Vecchio. Five years later, when Florence was for a few years the capital of United Italy, the old palace became the seat of the parliament and was sadly pulled about. The great Hall of the Five Hundred was arranged as a House of Parliament, doors were opened to give free access to the various offices, and room had also to be found for the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. The architect Falconieri was vehemently attacked and defended himself in a pamphlet, declaring that he had done his utmost to respect all that was beautiful, and at all events had finished that part of the palace in the Via de’ Leone which had been left so long uncompleted.

In 1866 Baron Ricasoli announced in the great hall that Victor Emanuel had declared war on Austria, and four years later the King himself, amid delirious enthusiasm, stated that his soldiers had entered Rome. With this the story of the Palazzo Vecchio comes to an end. It is now the seat of the municipality of Florence, and it only remains for me to acknowledge the help I have derived from Signor Aurelio Gotti’s book Storia del Palazzo Vecchio in Firenze.

* * * * *

Arms of the Republic of Florence under the machicolations of the Palazzo Vecchio.

A white Lily on a red field; the ancient arms of the city.

A red and white Shield divided lengthways; signifying the union of Florence and Fiesole.

A red Lily on a white field; the arms of the city, 1251.

A blue Shield with the word Libertas in gold letters; the arms of the Priors of Liberty.

A red Cross on a white field; the arms of the People.

Two golden Keys on an azure (or white) field, placed crossways; the arms of the Church.

A red Eagle standing on a green Dragon in a white field, a small golden Lily on the head of the eagle; the arms of the Guelph party. (Really the arms of Clement III., who bestowed them on the Guelphs in 1365.)

Golden Lilies on an azure field with a golden Bar (rastrello) at top; the arms of Charles of Anjou.

A shield divided lengthways to the left, golden Lilies on an azure field to the right, red Stripes on a field or; the arms of King Robert of Naples.

Under the machicolations of the tower are painted the arms and emblems of the various quarters of the city. On the southern side are the arms of S. Spirito, a white Dove with golden rays in her beak on an azure field: the gonfaloni, or banners, of the quarter of S. Spirito bear a Ladder on a red field; five Shells on a blue field; a green Dragon on a red field; a five-thonged Whip on a blue field. On the eastern side are the arms of S. Croce, a golden Cross on a blue field: the gonfaloni have a silver shield with a red Cross on a black field with broad silver rings round it; a Cartwheel on a blue field; a Lion on a white field. To the west are the arms of S. Maria Novella, a golden Sun with rays on an azure field: the gonfaloni bear a white Lion on a blue field; a blue Viper on a gold field; an Unicorn on a blue field; a red Lion on a white field. S. Giovanni, to the north, has its own Temple with a suspended Key on either side on a blue field: the gonfaloni bear two red Keys on a field or; a shield, the upper half red and the lower of ermine, on a white field; a golden Lion on a blue field; a green Dragon on a field or. Some of these are almost entirely obliterated.