The Medici Balls: Seven little journeys in Tuscany

In Short

This travelogue recounts seven intimate journeys through the Tuscan countryside, framed by the omnipresent symbol of the Medici family: the "balls" on their heraldic shield. Part guidebook, part historical meditation, the work blends precise observations of Renaissance art and architecture with charming vignettes of local peasant life. It remains a testament to the enduring allure of the Italian landscape, capturing a moment when the region’s medieval past and rustic traditions were still vibrant, accessible, and deeply intertwined with the architectural legacy of Florence’s most famous rulers.

The Story

The narrative begins with a curiosity regarding the Medici crest—those elusive red balls on a field of gold—which the authors encounter everywhere, from the grand palazzi of Florence to the modest wine jars of rural farmhouses. Driven by a desire to escape the city's confines, the travelers venture northward into the Mugello, the ancestral cradle of the Medici. There, they uncover the blend of myth and history surrounding the family’s rise, including tales of knightly combat against giants, before turning their attention to the local municipal architecture that served as the heartbeat of medieval civic life.

The journey continues to Prato, a city once eclipsed by Florence, where the travelers find a thriving town defined by its ancient walls and early Renaissance treasures. Despite the initial frustration of a slow tram ride, the town’s artistic richness—ranging from church façades to the bustling activity of coppersmiths—rewards their patience. The path then winds through the Chianti region, where the focus shifts from grand politics to the rhythms of the podere, or farm. Here, the authors engage with the land, sampling local vintages and witnessing the pride of a family that has worked the same soil for generations, all while admiring the Della Robbia terra-cottas that adorn local shrines.

As the journey progresses, the narrative incorporates deeper historical profiles, such as that of the fierce condottiere Castruccio Castracane and the jurist-poet Cino of Pistoja. These figures ground the travelogue in the dramatic, often violent, history of the region. The authors explore Pistoja, a city of markets and iron-workers, and eventually reach the serene hills of Brancoli. In these quiet mountain retreats, the travelers find a different kind of beauty—one defined by the "hidden" Madonna, the simple faith of the people, and the remnants of medieval religious art.

The final trek leads to Barga and the Garfagnana valley, where the travelers examine ancient pulpits and choir screens, marveling at the craftsmanship of artists whose names are often lost to time. They conclude by reflecting on the oral traditions of the region, sharing the songs of a local peasant woman named Beatrice, whose improvisational poetry and resilience embody the spirit of the hills. The journey ends not with a final destination, but with a sense of continuity, as the travelers leave behind the high art and history of the Renaissance to embrace the timeless, living culture of the Tuscan people.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The authors set out from Florence, compelled by the arrival of an early spring, to trace the influence of the Medici across the Mugello. They move quickly beyond the city limits to explore a landscape that bridges the gap between urban sophistication and rural mystery.

The medieval remains A trip to Prato offers a lesson in the layers of history, moving from the disappointment of modern transit to the appreciation of ancient civic identity. The travelers find that the city’s character is defined as much by its industrial grit as by its artistic heritage.

Life on the land The journey into Chianti shifts the focus to agriculture and the intimate hospitality of the Tuscan farmhouse. The authors contrast the legendary status of the Medici with the humble, persistent traditions of the contadini who tend the vineyards.

Legends and poets The narrative expands to include the biographies of figures like Castruccio Castracane and Cino of Pistoja, weaving their stories into the physical geography of the towns they once governed. These profiles provide a human scale to the sweeping history of regional warfare and poetic devotion.

The mountain retreats The final stages lead into the hills of Brancoli and the Garfagnana, where the focus centers on religious art and spiritual atmosphere. The travelers find a quiet, resonant beauty in these isolated valleys, concluding their exploration with a celebration of the enduring voices and songs of the local peasantry.

The People

The central figures are the travelers themselves, who act as sensitive, observant guides, eager to move beyond the superficial "four-hour" tours recommended by contemporary guidebooks. They are accompanied by the shadowy, powerful presence of the Medici family—bankers, patrons, and princes whose influence dictates the aesthetic and political history of the landscape. They also engage with the local inhabitants, such as the dignified grandmother at the Chianti podere, whose pride in her heritage and home offers a sharp, human contrast to the cold stone of the aristocratic palaces. Finally, the book highlights the legendary Beatrice, a century-old peasant poet. Her capacity for improvisation and her indomitable spirit serve as the heart of the region's living culture, proving that the true history of Tuscany resides as much in its songs as in its monuments.

In Its Own Voice

"The shield, bearing seven red balls on a field of gold, represents the arms of Piero de' Medici, and the period when Medicean supremacy was at its height."

The authors use this heraldic emblem as a constant touchstone for understanding the reach and influence of the Medici dynasty across the landscape.

"The road becoming rather steep, we now leave the carriage and proceed on foot."

This simple shift in their method of travel marks the transition from modern, efficient touring to a more intimate and sensory engagement with the remote, hilly beauty of Brancoli.

"You ask me for a song, then be content, / With little grace, in all I sing or say."

These lines, attributed to the peasant singer Beatrice, capture the authentic, unpolished voice of the mountain people, whom the authors hold in the highest regard.

What It's Really About

The book functions as an inquiry into the relationship between the monumental past and the persistent present. It explores how a single family’s iconography can define a region’s identity, yet simultaneously argues that the true essence of Tuscany is found in the overlooked details: the daily labor of the farmer, the local market-day commerce, and the oral traditions of the peasantry. It asks whether historical beauty is better preserved in a museum or in the ongoing, simple rhythms of rural life. Ultimately, it is a meditation on the way history accumulates in a landscape, suggesting that the most meaningful connections are made when the traveler abandons the itinerary to experience the land on its own terms.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the slow, atmospheric travel writing of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries will find this book deeply rewarding. It offers a window into a Tuscany that is largely vanished—a place of horse-drawn travel, local markets, and a profound, quiet connection to the land. The prose is warm and unhurried, reflecting a time when travel was an act of deliberate discovery rather than a race to check off landmarks.

However, the modern reader should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes of the authors, who occasionally view the peasantry through an idealized, romantic lens. The book assumes a level of classical and art-historical knowledge that may require a companion guide for those less familiar with the Renaissance, and its pacing is dictated by the leisurely, meandering nature of the journey itself rather than a tight plot. Despite these qualities, the book remains a beautiful, evocative record. What stays with the reader is the sense of wonder—the feeling of turning a corner in a dusty town and finding a masterpiece of art, or sharing a meal with a family that has lived on the same hillside for generations. It is a gentle, persistent reminder of the richness that can be found when one stops moving quickly and begins to look closely.