Everything in Florence has an interesting history.  Every single thing.

The many bridges spanning the Arno river are no exception.

Let’s zero in on the first bridge in the photo above. This major bridge just happens to be out the front door of my Oltrarno apartment building on Lungarno Serristori.  Everyday I cross this bridge, often several times, as it takes me quickly from my home to the historic center of Florence.  I can’t imagine my daily life without this bridge.  I’d be doing even more trekking than I already do; I average at least three miles daily.  It’s a good way to live.

The bridge I walk on so many times a week is a modern structure, completed in the mid 1950s.  The Germans blew up the original, medieval bridge in August 1944, just before they departed Florence as the Allied Forces were coming up from the south.  Like so much destruction caused by wartime activity, it was a complete waste to blow up this bridge.  The Arno was already so low that particular August that the Allies could walk across the river bed and up the banks on the city side.

Yet the Germans blew up every single bridge crossing the Arno, with the exception of the Ponte Vecchio; they bombed the two ends of even that famous bridge, leaving only the center section intact.  Legend has it that Hitler himself gave the command to leave the Ponte Vecchio standing, as it is said he had a great affection for Florence.  Who knows?  I wonder if the Nazis meant to destroy the Ponte Vecchio too, but something went wrong and only the two ends detonated. Anyhow, the Nazis left all the Florentine bridges in shambles as their calling card.  Unfazed, the Florentines rebuilt each and every bridge over the next few decades.

Today this bridge is known as il Ponte alle Grazie, because there was once a relief sculpture of the Madonna alle Grazie attached to city end of the bridge.  It’s a pretty, evocative name.  The Bridge of Grace.

The first record of this bridge is from 1227, making it even older than the Ponte Vecchio. The original bridge, constructed entirely in stone, was called Ponte di Rubaconte, named for the podestà (mayor) Rubaconte da Mandello. He had commissioned the building of the bridge.  Here’s an old, old drawing of the Arno, showing the bridge in the distance.

The bridge was rebuilt in 1345 with nine arches, making it the longest in Florence. Giorgio Vasari attributed the design to an architect by the name of Lapo Tedesco, who was also the architect of the Bargello. Just one year later, in 1346, two of the bridge’s arches were filled in on the Oltrarno side, to make way for widening the street of Piazza dei Mozzi, which leads to the Palazzo Mozzi, as seen in this modern day shot of the Piazza below. 

The image below is a 17th century print of the Ponte di Rubaconte, showing the seven arches and the odd little structures erected at each of the pylons.

 

Initially these structures were chapels dedicated to Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Saint Barbara, and Saint Lawrence.  Apparently the structures were also erected as huts or hermitages for female hermits known as Romite. These women, wishing to avoid the scandals of some of the nunneries in the city, are known to have cloistered themselves in the buildings on the bridge, receiving their food from passersby through small slots. Because the Arno often flooded, the nuns eventually left their unusual homes on il Ponte alle Grazie, moving instead to the convent known as Santissima Annunziata alle Murate and Santa Caterina built in 1424 on Via Ghibellina in the Santa Croce district of Florence. Because these nuns had voluntarily chosen a cloistered religious life, they were said to be murate or “walled up”, thereby giving the convent the name of Le Murate. When Tuscany was annexed by the French in 1807, Florence became the prefecture of the French Department of the Arno. The French quickly suppressed religious orders and confiscated their property.  The nuns at Le Murate were unceremoniously sent packing.  In 1845 the buildings of Le Murate were redesigned and fitted out as a jail for male prisoners.  During Italy’s fight for independence in the mid 19th century, Le Murate became the temporary home of such political prisoners as writers and patriots Francesco Domenico Guerrazzi (1804-1873) and Carlo Bini (1806-1842). During World War II, political prisoners, dissidents and partisans captured by the fascists were again imprisoned at Le Murate. The buildings were used as prisons until 1985. Within the past decade, Le Murate has been converted into condominiums and a center for art performances, based upon designs by the famous Italian architect, Renzo Piano.

Coincidentally, I lived on Via Ghibellina last winter, just across the street from Le Murate and a restaurant there is one of my Florentine favorites.  I knew the premises had been a prison, but I had no idea at the time I was living on Via Ghibellina that Le Murate had these connections to Ponte alle Grazie, let alone that I would soon be living near that storied bridge.  Interesting connections happen all of the time, it would seem.

That was a very long aside!  Let’s get back to the bridge itself!  To transition, here’s a beautiful painting of it by famed 19th century American painter, and one of my personal favorites, William Merritt Chase.

Until the late 1870s, the Ponte alle Grazie retained its seven arches and original medieval structure, as well as the structures on the pylons, as seen in this photograph.

The buildings were removed from the bridge in the late 19th century when space was needed to lay tram tracks across the bridge.

 

Thus it remained until 1944 when the Germans blew it to smithereens.

 

From 1950 to 1957 the bridge was rebuilt. In typical Florentine artistic tradition, a competition was held for designs for the reconstruction of the bridge.  A group of architects that included Giovanni Michelucci, who later became famous for the project of Santa Maria Novella train station, was awarded the commission to rebuild the bridge.

 

Here’s how the finished bridge looks today as it traverses the Arno.

But, of course, more was yet to happen. In November of 1966, the Arno surged over its banks and flooded the city.

 

But today, the area of the Ponte alle Grazie is my home sweet home.  Whew, that was a short walk through a long history!

l’ll conclude this post with a few more photos of this famed bridge.