Florence: The Lady Who Saved the Old Bridge
Queen Victoria loved this renowned old bridge. After a visit, the Marchese Torrigiani, Mayor of Florence, ran to the railway station to make his bow. She shook an aggressive finger at him and warned: "Never touch Ponte Vecchio".
Walburga, Lady Paget. was the great-granddaughter of Justchen von Krosigk, née von der Schulenburg, and granddaughter of Field-Marshal Count Gneisenau.
From her hilltop setting at Villa Bellosguardo, formerly Villa Michelozzi, she could gaze down towards the river Arno, over the city of Florence, up to Fiesole and the far-away mountains.
In the early years of the 20th century, she gives us a dashing account of her days of martyrdom during a sojourn in Florence. A gushing portrayal of all her tormented and stomach-churning experiences with the local Florentines, and the Italians: "... a race that has no moral courage, a race I could never fear"
She found solace in her angelical dogs, her sheep, goats, and sulphur-breasted cockatoo that resided in one of the Villa's corridors. She found gratification in her battles for a better life for children, animals, and the preservation of ancient buildings, and in her constant imprecations against the Florentines.
The cacophonic inventory of her Villa Bellosguardo tea-time guests and neighbours included Madame Zizi Narishkin, née Princess Kourakin, Princess Corona Bariatinsky, Count Mouravieff, Monsieur and Madame de Zoubow, the Princess Croy Solre, née CroyDuelmen, Countess Harrach, sister of Princess Lichnowsky, and Resi Palffy.
Struck with horror at crimes that had recently been perpetrated in Florence and in Italy in her days at Bellosguardo, Lady Walburga reports that most people go about armed and she herself is armed when out late. Just the other day, she reports, as Marchese Ugo della Gherardesca was driving to his villa he was assailed by three armed masked men. He shot one dead and put the other two to flight. While sitting on the balcony of her villa one day, Marchesa Bricchieri was shot in the neck, probably by her factor. Countless people have been attacked on or near her Bellosguardo hill-top home, and several of the neighbouring villas have been burgled. Even the Stanhope family home, she reports, has been burgled twice.
Italian newspapers, she continues, are full of articles about disgusting crimes. There are currently half a dozen cases - some have been in progress for years: Lieutenant Modugno who is accused of shooting a young lady, Teodilinda Murri, who showed her true colours by engaging her lover and others to poison her husband, Count Notarbartolo. He recovered from the unsuccessful attempt, so they shot him. A lady called Rosacca vanishes, perhaps murdered by her son, who draws her pension without reporting her disappearance. In a room in his villa, the young Count De Vecchi is attacked, tied up, and forced to make a will bequeathing his great fortune to his aggressor, who then threatens the servant and orders him to drown the young count in a bathtub and then throw him into a canal. Fortunately, the order was never carried out and sometime later, on being detected, the aggressor shot himself to avoid capture. Further, the Minster of Finance, Rosada, shoots himself after only a few days in office.
What a state this country is in, she admits.
In due course she tells the story of an Englishman living in Rome who had the laudable habit of giving a coin to a certain beggar whenever he met him on his way. This beggar, he heard one day, was in fact a rich man and a money-lender, a "strozzino", a ruthless 'throttler". The Englishman then steered clear of him and kept his coins in his pocket.
The beggar deliberately sought revenge. He brought a lawsuit against the Englishman declaring that he owed him a large sum of money. The ill-fated Englishman, not a rich man, was in a state of depression. He revealed this to an Italian friend who, unperturbed, replied, "Don't worry. Just leave everything to me." A short time later his friend told him that it was now all cleared up and that his troubles were over.
"How did you manage it?" - asked the Englishman.
"Simple. I found five witnesses who were instructed to say that they had seen you reimburse the money."
"How much did it cost?"
"Very little. A witness in the city only costs 10 francs, and one from outside the city walls is even cheaper - 5 francs."
Lady Paget's unfaltering efforts to alleviate suffering meted out to animals and children, her Anti-Vivisection campaigns, Preservation of Ancient Monuments crusades, and "Hygiene Conferences", as she calls them, all awaken our greatest admiration. With Countess Tommasini she arranged an interview one day with the Mayor of Florence in order to try and put an end to the brutality employed to horses in the area. It was agreed that the Mayor, a lawyer by profession, would receive the ladies at five o'clock. Now it happened that on that particular afternoon her horses were suddenly engaged in another more important mission and she was left to walk to the city centre. She strongly resisted a bitter "tramontana" north wind, she tells us, as she made her way down the hill from Bellosguardo, crossed the river Arno and reached Palazzo Vecchio where she and the Countess met and then advanced to the Mayor's office. An employee said that the Sindaco could not see the two ladies that afternoon as he had forgotten all about the matter and had other things to do. Lady Paget had failed. She understood the hopelessness of this or of any future mission. She rebelled, tongue-lashed the employee who could only writhe and thrash about without a reply and the two ladies left for home. Italians, she later reports, are always stunned by straightforward assertions.
Lady Paget then reports that of late she has been wholly absorbed in horse-dealing, in Florence a jawbreaking and strenuous venture for such a stately lady. Lies and double-dealing, we hear from her, are freely exercised in such a way that "we Northerners" always end up being severely trounced and done in.
With Princess de Croy an attempt was made to persuade the Archbishop to order his parish priests to instruct the parishioners to put and end to the indiscriminate slaughter, by shooting, trapping and netting (and consequently roasting on a stick) of little song birds, especially on Sundays when the entire male population wanders around weighed down with rifles.
A servant left her after she had regularly given him his dismissal notice. Like all Florentine servants and coachmen, people she had engaged to take them out of their misery, he claimed three months wages and began legal action. Lady Pager was badgered and pestered for months, lies galore were fabricated. Her lawyer reassured her that she would win, but Italian law can come up with shattering disappointments. It can go on for years.
Fortunately, it went on for only a few months. She won her lawsuit, but in the meantime the man had gone to Naples, was now penniless, and Lady Paget had to bear the entire costs herself.
Every little Italian boy threatens you with the law. He will tell you that in a dispute you cannot use a certain expression, if your barking dog shatters people's nerves, if your donkey has inadvertently brushed against someone in the market place, or if your servant has squabbled with somebody, you are liable to a lawsuit.
She further mentions that the manners of the Italian businessmen are the worst she has ever known, that Italian policemen are uncivilized and irritating, and that local dog-catchers belong to the scum of the rabble itself. Tuscan children are taught to be cowards. The first action of a Tuscan when he sees a dog is to hide behind the first shielding object he can find, crying: - Non morde mica? It doesn't bite, does it?
Travelling on Italian trains means putting up with passengers bickering about who has the right to sit in that particular seat, or sleep in that bunk, with furious arguments and threats to take the whole matter to the Questura, the police headquarters. Fires on the train, guards, stokers and engineers getting off at every station to just talk things over. The famous train Lampo (Lightning), crawls down the line from one little station to the next and delays can amount to a good number of hours.
Out walking one day, Lady Paget and her assembly of dogs were approached by the dog-catchers from the Municipality. One of the dogs had lost it identification tag, but the lady had all the regular papers with her proving she had paid her tax. The dog-catchers at once threw a wire noose round the head of that particular dog and drew it tight. Lady Paget responded by trying to insert her hand between the wire and the animal's neck. In the meantime a crowd had gathered. Oddly, on this one occasion, the horde of curious children, peasants, cabdrivers and carters who looked on gave her their total support. At last, disappointed, the dog-catchers retreated without the reward they were expecting to get from the lady for disengaging the noose and not abducting the dog.
As a coda, she relates that for once justice was done: the cruel men were suspended for three months, whatever that may bring about, and that a week after this unpleasant incident the dog-catcher who had hurt her dog and her hand committed two murders and was given a life sentence.
Lady Walburga concludes her narrative with a touching epilogue, mourning the death of a beloved one: God's hand lay heavy upon me. I never wrote another line.
Cultural Homestays Vacations in Florence.
Programs designed to host single senior travellers or two travelling together.
