Florence and Machiavelli: sympathy for the devil You can still step into the same study. His desk stands in front of the window, the fireplace still has the family coat of arms carved into it. It was at this desk that his reading and political experience bore fruit. Here he wrote the first draft of The Prince, his notorious political tract advising dynasties, like the Medici, how to combat the vicissitudes of fortune and stay in power. It was a job application, an attempt to get him back to the centre of things, and he sent it to his friend with that same letter in December 1513. The ploy didn't work. It was years before he was grudgingly readmitted into Florentine political society, and ultimately The Prince earned him nothing but an enduring notoriety. Machiavelli's study, where he read, and prepared his famous manuscript So why am I sympathising with a man of such devilish reputation, who in that same tract condoned torture, reasoned that the end could justify the means, and argued that it was better to be feared than loved? There is no doubt that The Prince incorporates a brutally pragmatic political rationale, based on a pessimistic view of human frailty. But most historians now emphasise the much greater importance of his later writings. In Discourses and the History of Florence, it becomes clear that his preferred political model was one based on freedom and democracy. He argued for civic virtue, and he believed that the Republic of ancient Rome could be adapted for a new world without tyrannical kings and princes. It's rather as though Shakespeare's reputation were based entirely on the cheap, bloodthirsty melodrama of one of his earliest plays, Titus Andronicus, and the world had forgotten about Hamlet and King Lear, The Tempest and Twelfth Night. In reality, Machiavelli was one of the key intellectual figures of the Florentine Renaissance. What is more, this was recognised at the time - before his name became synonymous with the devil. The epitaph on his tomb in Santa Croce church reads: Tanto nomini nullum par elgoium - There is no eulogy to befit so great a name. Machiavelli's house and albergo As you drive south through Sant'Andrea in Percussina (on the old road between Florence and Rome), Machiavelli's house is opposite the Albergaccio trattoria. A tour takes in his study, the vaulted reception rooms, the old kitchen, and the ancient cellars where the latest chianti vintages are stored (the house was owned by Machiavelli's descendants until the Eighties when it was bought by the GIV wine cooperative). It's well worth eating at the Albergaccio (pasta courses about €20/£16), but book in advance (0039 055 828471; closed all day Mon, Tues; and Sun evening). Machiavelli reputedly had a table in front of the fire. There is no admission charge to the museum, but visits must be booked in advance (machiavelli@giv.it) and are easiest to arrange Wed-Fri. See: casadellamemoria.it. The Medici Riccardi villa Between 1460 and 1494, and then again from 1512 to 1540, this was the Medici's power base in Florence. The building was a central point of reference in Machiavelli's time, and after the Medici were deposed and exiled in 1494, Charles VIII of France stayed here to draw up a pact with the new Florentine Republic. What you see today has been adapted and updated, first by the Medici in the early 16th century and later by the Riccardi family. But the heart and character of the building would have been recognisable to Machiavelli, as would the artistic highlight, the brilliant Gozzoli frescoes of the Magi in the chapel. See: palazzo-medici.it. The Palazzo dei Signori Despite his pragmatism, Machiavelli would surely have been horrified that within five years of his death Duke Cosimo I had regained such a hold on Florence that he had moved into the Palazzo dei Signori - the seat of government - and was consolidating the Medici's grip on the city. Cosimo rebuilt the great Salone dei Cinquecento, originally constructed in 1494 to accommodate meetings of the Grand Council of the Republic. But Machiavelli would have known the surviving parts of the medieval palace and the Old Chancellery offices built in 1511. See museicivicifiorentini.comune.fi.it. The Oricellari gardens After several years "rotting" in the country, Machiavelli was able to rejoin Florentine society and the humanist intellectuals who met in Cosimo Rucellai's gardens - the Orti Oricellari - to debate politics and literature. His comic play, La Mandragola, was performed here. A small park survives, visible through the railings on via Bernado Rucellai. Santa Maria dei Fiori Machiavelli was not impressed by Christianity, which he thought made the world "prey to the wicked." But he would undoubtedly have attended major public services here in the great Duomo. It had been structurally complete for nearly 80 years when he wrote The Prince, the biggest dome since the Pantheon in Rome, and still the biggest ever to be built of bricks and mortar. But the exterior walls didn't look as they do now - the marble cladding was only completed in 1887, and if you look carefully at the dome, only once section of the circular marble cornice is complete even today. See operaduomo.firenze.it/opera. Last residence The house in Florence where Machiavelli died was partially destroyed during the Second World War, but the surviving walls and beams are marked with plaques at 18 via de Guicciardini, between the Ponte Vecchio and the Pitti Palace. Santa Croce Church Given his religious scepticism, it isn't clear how the Franciscan monks of Santa Croce were reconciled to provide such a prominent location for Machiavelli's tomb on his death in 1527. But it is clear his reputation was once more riding high, for here he lies in one of Florence's greatest churches, just along the aisle from Michelangelo (d. 1564) and Galileo (d. See santacroceopera.it. For our Expert Guide to Florence, including a formal review of the Aman, and details of flights, events and other activities see telegraph.co.uk/florenceguide.