The Medici Balls: Seven little journeys in TuscanySheldon, Anna R.
History
The Medici Balls: Seven little journeys in Tuscany
Sheldon, Anna R.
Tuscany (Italy) -- Description and travel
We enter the town through the fifteenth century gateway, its battered
watch-tower speaking volumes of that olden time when Mugello's
rebels worked their stark will along these narrow thoroughfares. The
substantial, old Palazzo del Podestà, minus a tower, looks somewhat
meekly forth on its ancient square, or piazza, as it has done for
centuries. Its façade is hung thick with the shields of turbulent
lords, ten of whom called on the Della Robbia art to set forth their
emblems here, also to fashion glazed terra-cotta Madonnas for the
churches of St. Catherine and St. Stephen, hard by.
[Illustration: A FARM-HOUSE, MUGELLO]
[Illustration: PONTE D'ELSA, MUGELLO]
We can stop but a few moments at Borgo San Lorenzo, and soon
drive on, past a little shrine at the street corner and under the
battlemented tower called Torraccia Romanelli, to our country roads
once more. Outside the walls the country assumes a more broken and
hilly appearance, fewer cultivated fields, and more pasture where a
few sheep graze; irregular farm-houses of rough, grey stone, with
loggias and sloping roofs of red tiles, set amidst scattering trees,
many of them cypress, dark and rusty as an outworn mourning coat. The
accompanying picture shows a representative house of the country, and
we are told that this one had its little romance and love's young
dream. It is a wrinkled old woman you see trudging down the hillside
to fill her copper bucket at the stream; but in yonder corner loggia
is a sparkling-eyed young _contadina_, some pretty Tessa, who as she
spins her flax is thinking of a handsome and dashing young Florentine
who often finds his way to the farm-house, which belongs to his
uncle's country villa hard by. A bit farther on we reach the pretty
double-arched bridge Ponte d'Elsa, the very one, our driver says, where
Cimabue met the shepherd boy Giotto; and here too, nibbling the scanty
grass along the roadside, are surely the descendants of Giotto's sheep,
even the new-born lamb looking quite mediæval.
[Illustration: _M. M. Newell_
HILL OF VESPIGNANO, MUCELLO]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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