Folco Portinari

Beatrice’s father, whom Dante remembers fondly as “one of the noblest of Florence’s citizens,” was Folco Portinari. Folco improved his family’s social standing by marrying Cilia, the daughter of Gherardo Caponsacchi, who held Florence’s highest office in 1193 and owned substantial properties within and beyond Florence’s walls.

In 1285, Folco purchased land next to the preexisting church of Sant’Egidio (then still outside the walls) and a year later wrote to the pope, asking for permission to combine his land with that of the monastery adjacent to it for the purpose of building a hospital. The pope agreed and Folco paid for the construction of the hospital of Santa Maria Nuova. He had numerous children, including Dante’s muse, and lived where there is now a Dante plaque devoted to Beatrice. After the “exquisite work” of the hospital was complete, Folco’s prestige grew and he participated regularly in Florence’s government.

Folco died on the last day of 1289 and was buried in Sant’Egidio as he’d requested in his last will, which provides loads of other information. Readers of Dante’s Vita nova will remember his funeral because Dante writes of certain ladies who had seen how sad Beatrice was, and because that event triggered a nine-day delirium in which Dante foresaw Beatrice’s death.

The church’s main door (pictured above) is a bit disguised by the immense modern structure that grew out of its little hospital. You will find his tomb (below) inside and to the right. His coat of arms and inscription are still visible: “hic iacet Folchus de Portinaris, qui fuit fondator et edificator huius ecclesie et ospitalis Sancte Marie Nove et decessit anno MCCLXXXVIIII die XXXI decenbris, cuius anima pro Dei misericordia, requiescat in pace” (“Here lies Folco of the Portinari, who was the founder and builder of this church and the hospital of Santa Maria Nuova, and he died on December 31, 1289. May his soul rest in peace with God’s mercy”). Once upon a time, there was also a bas-relief of Folco here and even the tomb of one of his sons.

Alongside the church, on the northern side, is the monument to Monna Tessa and the Mausoleum of Count Angiolo Orlando Galli Tassi (1792-1863), constructed in 1873 (below). It stands where the old burial ground of Sant’Egidio used to be, which was called the Chiostro delle Ossa (Cloister of Bones). It got its name from the fact that this is where thousands of bodies were buried and where hundreds of skeletons were left on display in an attempt to keep our inevitable mortal end fresh in our mind.

Ferdinando Leopoldo Del Migliore (1628-96) wrote about what he saw there in 1684:

“The walls [of the courtyard] were covered from top to bottom in piles of bones and whole skeletons were packed side by side and set into wooden niches. [...] They said the area was set up that way because Florence had lost the memory of death. [...] Many people used to take their children there. They would show the children the bones and tell them, ‘Keep this sight in mind, for this is the end that awaits us all.’ [...] From the skeletons they hung signs that repeated common quotations found throughout the hospital [...]. And above the doorway [...] was one of Dante’s tercets: ‘All your things have their deaths, just as you yourselves do, but death hides in some that long endure, and your lives are short’ (Paradiso 16.79-81).”

Del Migliore estimated that between the hospital’s founding and 1680, some 360,000 bodies were buried in this tiny space.

This modest plaque shown below, now at Via Folco Portinari 7, was placed in honor of Beatrice’s father. It reads: “This building was long ago constructed out of the admirable generosity of Folco Portinari, citizen of Florence, at the urging of his servant, Monna Tessa, for the good of those who are ill.” It is dated 1785 and signed by Peter Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, who (though a Habsburg-Lorraine) dedicated a great deal of effort to making Florence a model city of the Enlightenment.

Coat of arms of the Portinari family