Il Castello di Vincigliata: A Medieval Dream
Dateline: 10/01/97
IN THE EARLY 1840S
Sir John Temple Leader, a young Whig, suddenly abandoned a promising career in
Parliament for the Continent; after several years in Cannes he purchased
Fiesole's Villa di Maiano and joined Tuscany's sizeable English expatriate
community. In 1855 he also bought the crumbling ruins of Castello di
Vincigliata, the ancient stronghold of the Visdomini Family, with the intention
of restoring them to their medieval splendor. We are fortunate he did; in those
days the hills north of Florence were bare, with the scars of the quarries that
had supplied the building stones for Florence's palaces, and just a few
scraggly olives struggling for survival in stony soil -- not exactly the
Romantic conception of the setting for a castle. So he bought up the
surrounding land as well, more than 700 acres in the space of 50 years, and
began the delicate task of reclaiming it, restoring the houses and villas
(they've all got his coat of arms on them) and creating the Bosco di
Vincigliata, planting cypresses in the rocky areas where nothing else would
grow, pines, and all the various shrubs and bushes one finds in a typical
Central Italian woodland -- in short, an English Romantic Garden on a huge
scale, an utterly artificial construct that looks entirely natural and is a joy
to visit, with dozens of trails that offer unexpected, delightful views at
every bend.
The centerpiece of it all was to be the Castello di Vincigliata; to return it to something approaching its original state he enlisted the assistance of the Architect Giuseppe Francelli and the leading Florentine artisans of the day. In the course of 15 years they rebuilt the castle from the ground up, and what emerged is both delightful and very odd: a Romantic vision of a Feudal fortress, with craggy walls, fanciful grotesques, dragons, coats of arms, and other surprising sculptures, beautiful wrought-iron lamps and braziers, medievalesque frescos and decorations, and an eclectic mixture of furnishings, including arms, armor, wedding chests, and even a gibbet.
Sir John was more than just an eccentric housekeeper, however: Unlike
many of the English, who withdrew behind the walls of their villas, living in a
snooty isolation that led Tuscans to refer to them as Anglobeceri,
"Anglo-grouches,"he was extremely interested in Florence and all things
Florentine, especially art and architecture. He was therefore on hand when
buildings were being demolished during the urban renewal that came with
Florence's being declared Capital, and was able to salvage beautiful
architectural marbles, statues, and even the frescos Lippo di Andrea painted in
1380 for the Vallombrosian monks who owned the Cappellina di San Bernardo in
Via della Scala.
People flocked
from afar to visit his castle and admire the grounds, and he was extremely
pleased when the Illustrated London News printed an engraving of Her Majesty
the Queen doing a watercolor of the Giardino delle Colonne, a pretty pool fed
by the Mensola creek.
Alas, Sir John married late in life, to Maria Luisa Raimondi, and they died without heirs. The property passed to a nephew who sold it off piecemeal, and then went though a series of hands, with the castle being used by the Germans as a prison for English officers during the War. During this all Sir John passed from memory and his art collection was scattered. All is not lost, however; the present owners are making a determined effort to return the Castello to its Romantic state, and to celebrate Sir John have organized a show dedicated to him that will run through the end of November.
The gate of the Castello is flanked by two stone lions and leads into a well manicured Italian garden with a fountain and what one might for want of a better term call a sunken cloister, with very nicely sculpted capitals and decorated columns; in the past it had Gaetano Bianchi's frescos of scenes from the lives of the various families that owned Vincigliata, but only one has survived -- Ugolino de'Visdomini invoking the Virgin before marching against the Sienese.
To reach the main entrance to the castle, climb the ramp by the gate
house. If you have been to the Bargello you may have an odd sense of
déjà vu as you enter the keep -- the marble lion on the column by
the flight of stairs is almost identical to the one capping the column in the
courtyard of the Bargello (Angelo Marucelli used the same pattern for both).
The courtyard is, well, odd. At a first glance it appears Tuscan Medieval, but
there are elements that seem to spring from the pages of a Gothic novel --
grotesques, a dragon holding the pulley over the well, and so on. From the
courtyard you can explore the ground floor, admiring massed pikes in one room,
statuary, much collected by Sir John, and the frescos he salvaged from Via
della Scala.
Once you have seen the ground floor climb the stairs to the battlements; the view of Florence from above the portico is stunning, and must have been simply magnificent back when Brunelleschi's Dome was the city's major landmark. There's a rather shadowy bedroom with a massive four-poster bed off the corridor leading to the pretty spiral stairs up to the tower. The tower has three rooms, which still have Gaetano Bianchi's geometric Mediaevalesque frescos, with the coats of arms of the various families that owned the Castle. The first room has personal belongings of Sir John; the next has weaponry and several suits of elegant parade armor for children, while the uppermost has chains, thumbscrews and other mild torture instruments that no Romantic castle could be without, and also a gibbet. The top room of the tower is also home to the ghost of Selvaggia, daughter of Giovanni Usimbardi, who fell dead of heartbreak when she saw her future husband struck down by his brother on their wedding day -- she now appears, dressed in white, to succor desperate lovers.
The stairs in the middle of the room lead up to the roof, and are worth a journey: You'll understand why Sir John settled in Tuscany and offer him a prayer of thanks for having built one of the most beautiful observation decks in the world. Once you have seen the tower, don't forget the grounds. The other gatehouse has more grotesques and lions, and there are a number of other sculptures scattered about, including a pretty Della Robbiaesque terracotta Virgin with Sir John and Lady Maria Luisa's coats of arms.
The one big problem with the John Temple Leader show is that it will end, and then the castle will go back to being used for weddings, receptions and conferences. It is not entirely closed to the public, however: You can arrange a visit by dialing Italy 55 599-556 and speaking with Laura Tosetti, or faxing her on Italy 55 599-166. They are looking into the Internet, but don't have email yet. The other interesting thing you can do is explore the woods Sir John planted. Fiesole's Tourist Board and the owners of the properties have arranged 5 walking/mountainbiking tours through the area, each of which is about 5 km in length and will require good walking shoes. The Comune has prepared a map of the itineraries and is working on their descriptions as well. If you would like a paper copy (it will be easier to follow in the woods, and has lots of pictures) write Alessandro Ferri of the Ufficio Stampa, Comune di Fiesole, Fiesole (Firenze), or call him on Italy 55 599 478 (he will also be able to help you arrange a tour of the Castello).
Getting there: If you have a car,
you should drive. Going on foot will take a while but is a very pretty walk:
Take the number 10 bus to Ponte a Mensola, and then follow Via di Vincigliata
up into the woods for about two miles. You'll have a wonderful time and
discover an aspect of Florence few are lucky enough to see.
To close, a couple of words on the earthquake that struck Umbria. Though what happened in Assisi has attracted most of the world's attention, it now appears that the damage to the Basilica was less catastrophic than was initially thought. Some of Cimabue's frescos have been lost, but the Giotti on the walls survived, as did Cimabue's other frescos on the ceiling. More vexing perhaps is the realization of how widespread the damage is. Many of the towns in Umbria and the Marches have been completely evacuated, and the experts say it could take as long as five years before all the homes are repaired. For now people are living in tents and trailers.
Kyle Phillips
Text © Kyle Phillips, Photos used with the kind
permission of Francesca Baldry, organizer of the show.
