Part 13

"_Haec fabula_ of the head of San Miniato," wrote the immortal Flaxius on the proof, "teaches that he who would get round a priest in small trickery must arise uncommonly early--nay, in most cases 'twould be as well not to go to bed at all--especially when dunning is 'on the tap.' Concerning which word _dun_ it is erroneously believed in England to have been derived from the name of a certain Joseph Dunn, who was an indefatigable collecting bailiff. But in very truth 'tis from the Italian _donare_, to give oneself up to anything with ardour--to stick to it; in accordance with which, _donar guanto_, or to give the glove, means to promise to pay or give security. And if any philologist differs from me in opinion as to this, why then--_let_ him diff! Which magnanimously sounding conclusion, when translated according to the spirit of most who utter it, generally means:

"Let him be maledict, excommunicate, and damnated _ad inferos--in saecula saeculorum_!--twice over!"

THE FRIAR'S HEAD OF SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE--THE LADY WHO CONFESSED FOR EVERYBODY--HOLY RELICS

"He who speaks from a window or a pulpit, or the top of a good name or any high place, should speak wisely, if he speak at all, unto those who pass."

The Church of Santa Maria Maggiore "remounts," as the Italians say, or can be traced back to 700 A.D., but it was enlarged and renewed by the architect Bueno in the twelfth century, and according to Pitre it was the germ of a new style of architecture which we find much refined (_ringentilata_) in Santa Maria del Fiore. "There were, regarding its bell-tower, which no longer exists, many tales and curious anecdotes, which might form a part of a fine collection of local legends." There is still to-day on the wall above the little side-door facing the Via de' Conti, a much worn head of stone, coming out of a round cornice, which is in all probability the one referred to in the following legend:

"There was once a condemned criminal being carried along to execution, and on the way passed before the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore. One of the friars put his head out of a little round window, which was just large enough for it to pass through, and this was over the entrance on the lesser side of the church, facing the Via de' Conti. As the condemned passed by the friar said:

"'Date gli da bere, 'un morira mai.' "'Give him a drink and he never will die.'

"To which the condemned replied:

"'E la testa di costi tu 'un la levrai'. "'And thy head shall stick where it is for aye.'

"And so it came to pass that they could not get the head of the friar back through the hole, so there he died. And some say that after they got the body out they carried his likeness in stone and put it there in the little round window, in remembrance of the event, while others think that it is the friar himself turned to stone--_chi sa_?"

* * * * *

The conception of a stone head having been that of a person petrified for punishment is of the kind which would spring up anywhere, quite independently of tradition or borrowing; hence it is found the world over. That ideas of the kind may be common, yet not in common, nor yet uncommon, is shown by the resemblance of the remark of the friar:

"Give him a drink and he never will die,"--

which was as much as to say that inebriation would cause him to forget his execution--to a verse of a song in "Jack Sheppard":

"For nothing so calms, Our dolorous qualms, And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles, So well as a drink from the bowl of Saint Giles."

There is a merrier tale, however, of Santa Maria Maggiore, and one which is certainly far more likely to have occurred than this of the petrified _pater_. For it is told in the ancient _Facetiae_ that a certain Florentine nobleman, who was a jolly and reckless cavalier, had a wife who, for all her beauty, was _bisbetica e cattiva_, capricious and spiteful, malicious and mischievous, a daughter of the devil, if there ever was one, who, like all those of her kind, was very devout, and went every day to confession in Santa Maria Maggiore, where she confessed not only her own sins, but also those of all her neighbours. And as she dwelt with vast eloquence on the great wickedness of her husband--having a tongue which would serve to sweep out an oven, or even a worse place {150}--the priest one day urged the husband to come to confession, thinking that it might lead to more harmony between the married couple. With which he complied; but when the priest asked him to tell what sins he had committed, the cavalier answered, "There is no need of it, Padre; you have heard them all from my wife many a time and oft, and with them a hundred times as many which I never dreamed of committing--including those of all Florence."

It was in the first Church of Santa Maria Maggiore, which stood on the site of the present, that San Zenobio in the fourth century had walled into the high altar an inestimable gift which he had received from the Pope. This was "the two bodies of the glorious martyrs Abdon and Sennen, who had been thrown unto wild beasts, which would not touch them, whereupon they were put to death by swords in the hands of viler human beasts." I may remark by the way, adds the observant Flaxius, that relics have of late somewhat lost their value in Florence. I saw not long ago for sale a very large silver casket, stuffed full of the remains of the holiest saints, and the certificates of their authenticity, and I was offered the whole for the value of the silver in the casket--the relics being generously thrown in! And truly the mass of old bones, clay, splinters, nails, rags with blood, bits of wood, dried-up eyes, _et cetera_, was precisely like the Voodoo-box or conjuring bag of an old darkey in the United States. But then the latter was heathen! "That is a _very_ different matter."

BIANCONE, THE GIANT STATUE IN THE SIGNORIA

"_Fons Florentinus_.--In foro lympidas aquas fons effundit marmoreis figuris Neptuni et Faunorum ab Amanate confectis."--_Templum Naturae Historicum_. HENRICI KORNMANNI, A.D. 1614.

The most striking object in the most remarkable part of Florence is the colossal marble Neptune in the Fountain of the Signoria, by Ammanati, dating from 1575. He stands in a kind of car or box, drawn by horses which Murray declares "are exceedingly spirited." They are indeed more so than he imagined, for according to popular belief, when the spirit seizes them and their driver, and the bronze statues round them, they all go careering off like mad beings over the congenial Arno, and even on to the Mediterranean! That is to say, that they did so on a time, till they were all petrified with their driver in the instant when they were bounding like the billows, which are typified by white horses.

Neptune has, however, lost his name for the multitude, who simply call him the Biancone, or Great White Man; and this is the legend (given to me in writing by a witch), by which he is popularly known:

BIANCONE, THE GOD OF THE ARNO.

"Biancone was a great and potent man, held in great respect for his grandeur and manly presence, a being of tremendous strength, and the true type of a magician, {152} he being a wizard indeed. In those days there was much water in the Arno, {153} and Biancone passed over it in his car.

"There was then in the Arno a witch, a beautiful girl, the _vera dea_ or true goddess of the river, in the form of an eel. And Biancone finding this fish every day as he drove forth in his chariot, spurned it away _con cattivo garbo_--with an ill grace. And one day when he had done this more contemptuously than usual, the eel in a rage declared she would be revenged, and sent to him a smaller eel. But Biancone crushed its head (_le stiaccio il chapo_).

"Then the eel appeared with a little branch of olive with berries, and said:

"'Entro in questa carozza, Dove si trove l'uomo, L'uomo il piu potente, Che da tutti e temuto; Ed e un uomo grande, E grande, e ben vero; Ma il gran dio del Arno, Il potente Biancone, Non sara il solo potente; Vi sara una piccola pesce, Una piccola anguilla; Benche piccola la sia; Fara vedere la sua potenza Tu Biancone, a mi, Le magie, e siei mezzo stregone Io una piccola anguillina, Sono una vera fata, E sono la Fata dell Arno, Tu credevi d'essere Il solo dio d'Arno, Ma ci, no, io che sono La regina, e la vera, Vera dea qui del Arno.'

"'Lo, I enter in this chariot! Where I find the man of power, Who is feared by all before him, And he is a mighty being, Great he is, there's no denying; But the great god of the Arno, The so powerful Biancone, Is not all alone in power; There's a little fish or eel, who, Though but little, has the power, Mighty man, to make thee tremble! Biancone, thou art only Unto me as half a wizard; I, a little eel of the Arno, Am the fairy of the river; Thou didst deem thyself its ruler; I deny it--for I only Am the queen and the true goddess-- The true goddess of the Arno.'

"Having said this, she touched with the twig of olive the little eel whom Biancone had killed, and repeated while touching it:

"'Anguillina che dal Grande Siei stata stiacciata, Io con questo ramoscello Ti faccio in vita tornare, E al Grande, io, del Arno Tutto il mio pensiero, Tutto posso raccontare.'

"'I, little eel, who by the mighty Man hast been to death delivered, Do call thee back unto the living! Wake thee with this twig of olive! Now unto this Biancone, Thou who art too of the Arno, Shalt speak out thy mind and freely.'

"Then the little eel, resuscitated and influenced by the goddess of the Arno, said:

"'Biancone, tu che siei Il potente dio dell' Arno, L'anguilla discacciata, Che tu ai discacciata, E di te inamorata, E di te piu potente, E se tu la discaccerai, Ti giura la vendetta, E si vendichera. . . .'

"'Biancone, Biancone! Thou great spirit of the Arno, Lo, the eel by thee despised Turns again with love unto thee: She surpasses thee in power; If she is by thee rejected, She will vow revenge upon thee, And will be avenged truly.'

"Biancone replied:

"'Io non voglio amar donne, Sia pure d'una bellezza Da fare a cecare, Ma per me non mi fa niente, Non voglio amare donne, Sara per bellezza una Gran persona, ma non vero, Per potenza, per che piu, Piu potente di me non Vi e alcun . . . '

"'I seek not the love of women. Thou art of a dazzling beauty; Unto that I am indifferent; I seek not the love of ladies. Thou may'st be full great in beauty, Not in power, for in power I shall ever be the greater.'

"Then the eel arose {155} and said:

"'Biancone, or guardami, Guarda mi bene perche piu, Non mi vedrai vedermi, E se mi vedrai, Non mi potrai toccare, Dici che piu potente Di te non ce nessuno, Ma sa io la prima, Mia potenza e quella Di vederti inamorato, Di me vere inamorato, Ma che ora sono io, Che ti discaccio per la tua, Al te si guardami mi vedi.'

"'Biancone, now regard me, Look well at me now, for never, Wilt thou ever more behold me, Or if thou behold'st me, touch me, And thou say'st that thou hast power, And that none can rival with thee. Thou shalt learn that I am stronger, For I've power to make thee love me, But 'tis I who now reject thee, If thou doubtest--now behold me!'

"And then, instead of an eel, appeared a maid of dazzling beauty, and Biancone sought to embrace her, but could not, and said:

"'Contentami una volta Sola, o dea dell' Arno; Lascia che ti abbraci Una volta sola, o dea.'

"'For a single time content me, Lovely goddess of the Arno; Let me but for once embrace thee, Yield to me I pray, O fairy!'

"But the goddess of the Arno replied:

"'Una donna piu potente Di te, non si lascia Vincere da uno superbo; Tuo pari mi basta di Far ti vedere, che c'e Persona ancora di te Piu potente . . . Ora io Mi voglio vendi care per che, Tu mi ai discacciata, Tante volte, ed ora invece Tu saresti bene contento Di abbraciarmi anche, Anche or per una volta, Ma no. Addio Biancone!'

"'A woman who has greater power Than thine will surely not be conquered Merely by pride in outward seeming, But now, in brief, I will content me By proving mine the greater power; I seek to avenge myself upon thee, Since of old thou didst despise me Many times, but now wouldst gladly, Though it were but for once, embrace me-- Farewell for ever, Biancone!'

"And Biancone fled, but he always bore the beautiful goddess in his mind, and could not forget her, so he too meditated a vengeance.

"But the vengeance of a woman strikes more powerfully than that of a man.

"One day when Biancone was passing over the Arno in his chariot, with all his attendants, he thought he saw the eel engaged in forming the basin of a fountain (_vasca_), and bear it away in a car, she herself being in it, {156} and it was covered with glass; but in the time that he thought (or dreamed) that he saw this, the eel appeared and said:

"'Il momenta della mia vendetta E arrivato, e ti giuro Giuro che la mia vendetta E potente, or Turanna, Mia regina delle Fate, E dea dell Arno, commanda Che questa carroza sprafondi, E che tu e la tua servitu, Non vi potrete salvare.'

"'Now the time to wreak my vengeance Has arrived, and I swear thee That my vengeance shall be fearful, Very great, because my sovereign, Turanna, queen of all the fairies, Orders that thy chariot Shall be firmly fixed for ever, And that thou and all thy following Never more canst hope for rescue.'

"Then she sang again:

"'Confino i tuoi servitori, Quelli che ti aiut avanno A discacciar sui, o Diventare della forma, Mezze bestie, mezzi uomini, E tu o Biancone, Che tanto grande siei, Ti confino a stare sempre, Sempre ritto e non potrete Mai ragionare, ne camminare Solo quando sara luna, Luna piena, passero io Ti vedro, e mi vedrai, Ma parlarmi non potrai.

"'Quando sara luna piena, E che sara una notte, Che sara mezza nuvola, E mezza serena s'enderai, Della tua carozza nei, Nei momenti che la Luna Resta sotto le nuvole, E cosi potrei favellare, Con tutte le statue, che ai Attorno, allor tua carozza, E col mio permesso potrai Andare anche dai tuoi amici!'

"'I hereby compel thy servants, Those who aided thee, to vanish, Or take forms half brute, half human. {158} As for thee, O Biancone! Thou who art so tall and stately, Thou shalt stand erect for ever, Without power to speak or wander, Only when the full moon shining Falls upon thee, I will pass thee, I shall see thee; thou will see me, Without power to address me!

"'When the moon in full is shining, Yet when clouds begin to gather; Half in light and half in darkness, Thou may'st only in the moment When the moon is overclouded, Leave thy chariot, and have converse With the statues who are round thee, Then thou may'st, by my permission, Go among thy friends, then only.'"

* * * * *

I may here explain to the reader that this tale with its elaborate invocations is not current as here given among the _people_. Such forms and formulas are confined to the witches, who, as in all countries, are the keepers of mysterious traditions. All that is generally heard as regards this subject is, that when the full moon shines on Biancone at midnight, he becomes animated, and walks about the Signoria conversing with the other statues.

The Neptune was, with horses and all, produced by Bartolommeo Ammanati between 1564 and 1565. It has a certain merit of grandeur, but in lesser degree is like its neighbour Cacus, by Baccio Bandinelli, which Benvenuto Cellini justly regarded as resembling a mere bag of fat. When Michael Angelo saw the Neptune he exclaimed: "Ammanato! Ammanato! che bel blocco che hai sciupato!"--"Ammanato, what a fine block of marble thou hast spoiled!"

The Italians say that the satyr at the corner of the Palazzo Vecchio is a copy, because the original was stolen one night in January in 1821, "and is now one of the finest bronzes in the British Museum of London." It may be so; there was a great deal of fine stealing in those days. I suspect, however, that the truth is that as these images return to life now and then, the satyr availed himself of his revivification to set forth on his travels, and coming to London and finding good company in the British Museum, settled down there. But truly, when I think of the wanton and heartless destruction of beautiful and valuable old relics which has gone on of late years in Florence, to no earthly purpose, and to no profit whatever, I feel as if all the tales of such things being stolen or sold away to foreign museums were supremely silly, and as if it were all just so much saved from ruin--in case the tales are true.

"_Haec fabula docet_," wrote Flaxius, "a strange lesson. For as it was anciently forbidden to make images, because it was an imitation of God's work; and secondly, because men believed that spirits would enter into them--even so doth it become all novel-writers, romancers, and poets, to take good heed how they portray satyrs, free-love nymphs, and all such deviltry, because they may be sure that into these models or types there will enter many a youthful soul, who will be led away thereby to madness and ruin. Which is, I take it, the most practical explanation for commandment, which hath been as yet set _coram populo_."

THE RED GOBLIN OF THE BARGELLO

"Lord Foulis in his castle sat, And beside him old Red-cap sly; 'Now tell me, thou sprite, who art mickle of might, The death which I shall die?'"

--SCOTT'S _Border Minstrelsy_.

The Bargello has been truly described as one of the most interesting historical monuments of Florence, and it is a very picturesque type of a towered mediaeval palace. It was partly burned down in 1322, and rebuilt in its present form by Neri di Fioravanti, after which it served as a prison. Restored, or modernised, it is now a museum. As I conjectured, there was some strange legend connected with it, and this was given to me as follows:

IL FOLLETTO ROSSO.

"The Red Goblin is a spirit who haunts the Bargello, or was there of old in the prisons, _nelle carceri_, and he always foretold to every prisoner what his sentence would be before it was pronounced.

"He always appeared in the cell of the condemned, and first lighting a candle, showed himself all clad in red, and said to the prisoner:

"'Piangi, piangi, ma piangi forte, E prepararti che e giunta L'ora della tua morte.'

"'Weep, oh weep full many a tear; Make ready; thy hour for death is near.'

"Then if the prisoner replied boldly:

"'Anima chi siei! Ti prego di volermi aiutare A liberarmi dalla morte!'

"'Spirit, whoe'er thou be, I beg thee now for aid; From death pray set me free!'

Then the goblin would burst into a laugh and say:

"'Non piangere, ridi, ridi! Ma ride sempre, e spera Che io ti aiutera!'

"But if the prisoner had replied badly, or cursed, or said '_Vai al diavolo_!' or '_Che il diavolo ti porti_!'--then there were heard dreadful sounds, such as frightened all the prisoners and assistants, and the goblin vanished crying:

"'Woe, woe, and woe to thee! For thou soon shalt punished be; Away be led, to lose your head, There is no hope for thee!'

"And after that the man might well despair. Yet the Red Goblin was a jolly sprite when not crossed, and made great sport for the prisoners, who all knew him. He went into every cell, and would tell wild tales, and relate to every one all that he, the prisoner, had done since he was a boy, and how he came to be locked up, and what would be the end of it, and told all this with such peals of laughter that the most unhappy were fain to laugh with him.

"Then the assistants and the director hearing such sounds, thought it was the prisoners rioting, but could not detect them. {161a} And the spirit relieved many innocent men from punishment, and especially visited those condemned to wear the iron collar or _gogna_, which was fastened to a post, but at the Bargello it was on the Campanile outside, in sight of all the people. {161b}

"Now there was a young man in the prison who was good at heart, and deeply repented that he had done wrong, and now feared that he indeed was in the power of Satan, and destined to be in prison for all this life and in _inferno_ all the next.

"And when he was thus sunk in misery one night, he heard him, and was in great alarm, but it said, 'Fear not, for I am the protecting spirit of the prisoners in the Bargello, and have come to free thee; put thy trust in me and I will save thee!'

"Then he told the youth how he was to act, and bade him say certain things when examined, and follow closely all the goblin would whisper to him; but whether it was his fault or his failure, he missed every point and went wrong in his replies, the end being that he was condemned to prison for life. Truly it went to his heart to think that while he lived he should always see the sun looking like a chess-board, {162} and bitterly reflected on the proverb:

"'Ne a torto ne a ragione, Non ti lasciar metter prigione.'

"'Whether you're right or wrong, my man, Keep out of prison as long as you can.'

"But it went most bitterly to his heart to think that he had by his own stupidity and want of study lost the chance of freedom. And for some time the Red Goblin never came near him. But at last the prisoner heard him call, and then the spirit said, 'Now thou see'st to what a pass thy neglect of my advice has brought thee. Truly _il diavolo non ti tenterebbe_--the devil takes no pains to tempt such a fool as thou, for he knows that he will get him without the trouble of asking. And yet I will give thee one more chance, and this time be thou wide awake and remember that _a buona volonta_, _non manca facolta_--where there's a will there's a way.'

"Now there was a great lord and mighty man of the state who had been in the Bargello, and greatly comforted by the Red Goblin, who now went unto this Signore, speaking so well of the young man that the latter ere long had a new trial. And this time, I warrant you, he studied his case like a lawyer; for _asino punto_, _convien che trotte_--when an ass is goaded he must needs trot--and the end thereof was that he trotted out of prison, and thence into the world, and having learned repentance as well as the art of watching his wits and turning them to account, prospered mightily, and to his dying day never forgot to pray for the Red Goblin of the Bargello."

* * * * *

There have been other spirits which haunted prisons; there was one in the Bastile, and the White Ladies of Berlin and Parma are of their kind. This of the Bargello is certainly the household sprite with the red cap, in a short shirt, who was very well known to the Etruscans and Romans, and afterwards to the Germans, the _Lutin_ of the French castles, the Robin Goodfellow of England, and the Domovoy of the Russians. His characteristics are reckless good nature mingled with mischief and revenge; but he is always, when not thwarted, at heart a _bon garcon_. Of the Bargello I have also the following anecdotes or correlative incidents:

GIORGIO.