In 1865 Florence was appointed the capital of the newly unified Italy and it remained so until the capture of Rome in 1871. It was also acknowledged, however, that Florence, though once a great renaissance city, was now considered to be a city unfit as the capital of the new state.

Throughout the second half of the nineteenth century, in a process called by some ‘risanamento’ (restoring to health) and by others, more honestly ‘sventramento’ (disembowelment), large parts of Florence were moulded to satisfy the aspirations of the nouvelle bourgeoisie for a more fitting capital city. The ancient heart, the Jewish ghetto, and the walls north of the Arno were demolished. Indeed, so widespread was the destruction of ancient landmarks that the English ex-pat community of the time complained bitterly to the authorities about the loss of so many of the city’s ancient quarters and managed to halt the annihilation.

Nothing comparable to this urban wrecking occurred until, in 1944, the Nazis blew up the mediaeval areas to the north and south of the Ponte Vecchio in the mistaken belief that it was better to have them blown up and prevent the bridge’s use, blocked by the rubble, than the bridge itself. If only! A bridge can be rebuilt, as were the instances of the historic bridges of Bassano Del Grappa and Pavia, but whole quarters vanish for ever.

The grandiose nineteenth century urbanisation of the city of the lily did, however, produce one positive result: that of planning the sylvan avenues leading up to Florence’s classic view at the Piazzale Michelangelo.

Laid out in gentle gradients so that horse-drawn carriages could easily climb up the city’s southern hills, the ‘viali’ have, at one point, the Piazza Giuseppe Poggi, a series of ramps which once held elaborately cascading waterfalls.

Sadly, for over a century these waterfalls were dry. However, in a spurt of worthy restoration, which included placing the various reservoirs back into operation, the re-planting of the footpath borders and the renovation of the massive buttresses, the whole complex, the brainchild of Poggi, principal designer of the ‘new Florence’, has its waterfalls gushing anew.

Piazza Giuseppe Poggi is located between the Lungarno Benvenuto Cellini, the Lungarno Serristori and Via San Niccolò. Until 1911 it was called ‘piazza delle mulina’, which means ‘water-mills square’.

Here once were mills operated by a canal fed by the river: the canal began near the San Niccolò weir, flowed along the Lungarno Serristori and re-entered the Arno near the Ponte alle Grazie.

The square is dedicated to Giuseppe Poggi, the architect of Piazzale Michelangelo and the Florentine avenues of Circonvallazione, who here designed one of his most daring creations, with the series of neo-mannerist style ramps leading up to the Piazzale’s viewpoint.

We were lucky last week-end to be in Piazzale Poggi when Florence’s mayor turned on the taps. It was slightly ironic that everyone actually wished there was less water on that day as it had been raining since the morning and the planned celebrations, which included a concert and children’s activities, had to be postponed. However, we did manage to enjoy this wonderful reinstatement of one of Florence’s most spectacular features.

Let our photos of the occasion tell the tale. (Note the ancient San Niccolò gate in the middle of the square).