History: A violent, intimate society with a passion for political manouvering, Florence in the late 15th century was presided over by the wealthy banker, Lorenzo de Medici. Lauded as a poet and art patron, he was also a vote-rigger, tax-dodger, embezzler, flatterer and conniver.
Lorenzo "the Magnificent" typified the society from whence he sprang: a combination of money, strategic marriage and clever networking that bought political control, consolidated by intimidation, bribery and electoral machination.
Ritualised punishment and reprisals were commonplace, either unofficially or at the hands of the law. Poachers were put to death by being forced to swallow hares, fur intact; convicted criminals had their severed heads displayed for all to see. Here was a hatching ground for later stories of Italian ferocity - Lauro Martines frequently refers to Lorenzo as "the godfather" .
Lorenzo created enemies as frequently as he won allies and sycophants. Proud and powerful in its own right, the Pazzi was a distinguished banking family with influential connections abroad, unwilling to play along with Lorenzo's ruthless ascent to political monopoly. The Pazzi plot to assassinate both Lorenzo and his brother Giuliano in April 1478 had many adherents, including Pope Sixtus IV (whose nepotistic machinations Lorenzo had failed to facilitate) and the King of Naples. The plot is used by Martines as the hub around which his narrative rotates. But while his contextualising and analysing of the larger issues make enlightening reading, his rendition of what actually occurred on the day is simply gripping .
The deed was hindered by postponements, disaffection, loss of nerve and last-minute changes, including a sudden decision to attack in the cathedral using two last-minute recruits (both priests) who failed in their amateurish attempt to kill their quarry, Lorenzo. Giuliano did not escape. Further bungling spoilt the plan to occupy the Lord Prior's palace, and the urgent ringing of church bells warned papal troops, due to support the coup, to turn back. What was to have been a take-over of the city by men loyal to a true Florentine republic became a rout of plotters. Martines describes in gory detail how the conspirators, including the Archbishop of Pisa, were hanged or thrown from the palace windows. A third of the 100 executed were innocent, many more were imprisoned or exiled, and Lorenzo spent months hounding the members of the Pazzi family into oblivion. Meanwhile the pockets of the Medici and their followers were lined by confiscated Pazzi spoils.
Martines has written many books on Renaissance Florence and is a former resident. He reminds us of its dimensions: with a population of only about 40,000, one could traverse the city in half an hour. The privileged class of noble families, each with urgent ambitions and grievances, affiliations, ties of marriage and loyalty, and pressing business affairs, lived cheek by jowl and crossed paths several times a day. The poor were often on the verge of famine and grateful to Lorenzo "who gives us bread". Gangs played macabre street theatre with the bodies of the hanged (having first stripped them of all the pickings). Meanwhile the artistic and intellectual life of Europe's "most exceptional city" continued, thanks to figures such as Leonardo da Vinci, Botticelli and Macchiavelli.
Martines's style is conversational and web-like, circling and making connections, weaving anecdotes and illustrations, throwing in nuggets of information and context. This includes his close study and personal translation of contemporary tax returns, letters, poems, prayers, and a confession made by a mercenary after the failed Pazzi plot. There is a welter of similar-sounding names as Martines draws the many strands of political intrigue together, involving a large cast of characters. Helpfully he provides family trees of the Medici and of Pope Sixtus IV, as well as the Pazzi, and a list of the main players.
Married to Irish novelist Julia O'Faolain, Martines may have some idea how an Irish reader will find much that is familiar in his rendition of the bitter feuds and political corruption in the Florence of Lorenzo de Medici, not to mention a similarity between Lorenzo's tactics and the shady self-aggrandisement of some of our own self-made men of power.
When Lorenzo died, at 43, he had been infiltrating every corner of Florentine politics for over 20 years, not to mention his cozying up to bigger players such as the Duke of Milan when the need arose. He even used his influence with Pope Innocent VIII to have one of his sons made a cardinal at the age of 13; and his daughter became the child bride of the Pope's illegitimate son, her senior by 24 years. But Lorenzo's ambition could not reach beyond the grave. None of his three sons inherited their father's canny political nous, nor the sheer force of his personality that had held Florence in thrall. Soon after Lorenzo died, the Medici were forced into exile, the Pazzi were rehabilitated, and the era of Savonarola, "the fiery Dominican friar", was about to unfold.
Katie Donovan is a poet and critic. Her most recent collection of poetry, Day of the Dead, was published last year by Bloodaxe Books
April Blood: Florence and the Plot Against the Medici. By Lauro Martines. Jonathan Cape, 302pp. £17.99