BOOK I: THE RENAISSANCE
PART ONE: CULTURE
VI
Court Life and the Rise of Bourgeois Politics
One of the more underappreciated aspects of the Renaissance was the Court lifestyle cultivated by the Renaissance. While it was later pilloried by Jacobins as the embodiment and pinnacle of lavishness and lack of concern for the suffering plight of the poor, the Renaissance’s impact on Courtly life influenced more than just courtly and upperclass culture, the politics of the courtly Renaissance lifestyle was equally an aspect of the flourishing Renaissance from palace hall meetings to grand ballroom dances and invitations to flex the muscle of one’s dynastic prestige, wealth, and educated literacy.PART ONE: CULTURE
VI
Court Life and the Rise of Bourgeois Politics
While Renaissance court life was no doubt elaborate and lavish, with grand balls and other grandiose ceremonies to satisfy the ambitious desires of noble families, it also reflected the new spirit of cosmopolitanism. In fact, women at the court found greater liberty than ever before. New voices, once relegated to the backrooms of the palace, were brought to the fore. Even, dialogue between opposing parties with kings and princes as mediators – rather than Church authority as mediator – became a rising staple of Renaissance court life.
The roots of cosmopolitanism go far back beyond the Renaissance. It is rooted in Socrates’s claim in Plato’s dialogues to be a “citizen of the world,” which meant that he was a “lover of wisdom.” The philosopher was, by his very nature, cosmopolitan – seeking the wisdom of all the world rather than be confined that which was local to him. Cosmopolitanism, in its classical to Renaissance form, did not necessarily mean openness and toleration as we think of these ideas today. It is rooted in the Platonic idea of knowledge of the Forms as being healthy to one’s soul, and since this is what we all crave as children of human nature and natural law, wisdom is the beginning of what we would call “self-help” today. The openness of cosmopolitanism, then, was openness to the world of ideas wherever they were to be found and from whomever their authors were.
FIGURE 1: A bust of Socrates, the first “cosmopolitan.”
The Roman Stoics were also pioneers of early cosmopolitanism, especially in the writings of Seneca the Younger. Seneca argued, unlike the Greek stoics and cynics, that philosophy was the handmaiden of politics. In this way he followed from Cicero and Cato the Younger who preceded him. Knowledge was the means to know and cultivate virtue, which, in the time of the decline of the Roman republic, had a very explicit political goal in mind: knowledge led to the preservation of republican virtue, which would save the republic from its fall into tyranny and transformation into empire. In this sense, the Roman stoics failed, but their legacy lived on in more important ways.
The rise of Christianity ordered cosmopolitanism to a new end. St. Justin Martyr, for instance, extoled the great virtues of the Pagans, especially Plato and Socrates, even going as far as considering them followers of the Logos (Christ) before Christ’s incarnation. Tertullian, that great father of North African Latin Christianity before Augustine, also hailed Seneca as a de facto Christian saint before Christianity’s rise. Of course, Seneca, Plato, Socrates, and Plotinus were all influences upon Augustine, as were Cicero and Cato, the other great Roman stoics. Catholicism, then, shepherded cosmopolitanism but detached it from its explicitly political goals which emerged from Cicero, Cato, and Seneca. Instead, knowledge brought forth, in particular, self-knowledge – the knowledge of the self. This knowledge of the self, helped one understand one’s desires and therefore lead to a fulfilled life. Thus, wisdom is what ordered desire to its end, resulting in the happy life and the healthy soul. Knowledge of self and reality was necessary, according to Augustine, before one could truly help others.
But this long tradition of cosmopolitanism was always too self-focused. Renaissance cosmopolitanism, then, opened up cosmopolitanism and universalized it. Anyone with knowledge could have something important to say. As such, they should have a more active inclusion in courtly life, to aid and give consideration to the decisions of political rule. In this sense, Renaissance cosmopolitanism restored what a century of preceding Augustinian cosmopolitanism rejected: the unity of philosophy of politics, that knowledge was aimed more at helping others (through politics) than it was about helping the self. Thus, Renaissance cosmopolitanism was more along the older Roman line than the Platonic and Augustinian lines.
FIGURE 2: A bust of the Roman politician and philosopher Cicero. Cicero was a major influential figure in the development of Roman Stoicism, in contradistinction to Greek Stoicism, which had more immediate political overtures to it. Cicero was also a major influence over early Christianity too. Augustine, for one, credited Cicero with making him come to believe in God in Confessions. (In our timeline Cicero was also an influential figure over American Founding Fathers Thomas Jefferson and John Adams in particular.)
Before we begin to celebrate Renaissance cosmopolitanism, the mantra that “anyone with knowledge should be heard” really didn’t mean everyone however. It meant the elite and the elite alone. Granted, this also followed Cicero’s and Seneca’s cosmopolitanism of the intellectuals – the intellectuals were the only true cosmopolitans, but the floodgate opened by Renaissance cosmopolitanism had far reaching consequences that not even their original promoters could have ever imagined. If it was meant for aristocracy only, male and female aristocrats – especially princesses and queen consorts, for they too were educated in the art of philosophy, politics, and war during the Renaissance to reflect their newfound importance in courtly society and decision-making – then this growing inclusion of more aristocracy alongside the changes to economics also meant that Renaissance cosmopolitanism led to the rise of the bourgeoisie in political life. They had important things to say too that should influence politics and decision-making, hence, they deserved – nay, demanded – their seat at the table too.
Part of the contention of the new Renaissance cosmopolitanism was who exactly should have their voices heard and who the bearers of cosmopolitan ideals were. For more than a millennia it was the clergy and the most senior and learned of the king’s advisors. Naturally, these groups were not too keen on losing their own power that they had come to amass over a 1,000 years of courtly services; much like how the French nobility were constantly opposed to the centralizing tendencies of the Valois from Paris.
In this light, Renaissance cosmopolitanism was revolutionary and, while not in any formal sense, anti-clerical, it was tacitly anti-clerical in practice as it was the educated clergy and clerical advisors who were often on the losing end of the new cosmopolitanism that saw court influence and growth from among the minor aristocrats, royal women, and wealthy traders and merchants, giving rise to the powerful merchant guilds, especially in the Mediterranean and the Italian republics.
Other places, however, attempted to strike a balance between old alliances and new emergences. This was especially true in France where the educated clergy wielded serious power, and continued to serve the nobility in a formal capacity that often blurred church and state relationships. For instance, the bishop of Angers had effectively become a permanent seat in the College of Cardinals, and the bishops of Angers served Rene, Charles III, Charles IV, Nicholas, and Louis-Joseph I as court ministers and advisors while doubling their responsibilities as episcopal head and also voting members of the College. In fact, Alexander VII, who was instrumental in forming the Holy Alliance to help the despondent pleas of Princess Elisabeth of Hungary to aid Hungary’s struggle against Ottoman invasion, was previously the bishop of Angers and court advisor to Louis-Joseph before being elevated to the Papacy and enlisted his former student as head of the alliance.
***
Cosmopolitanism had a more immediate and noticeable influence on the arts and literature however. Pagan literature, especially the epics of Homer and Virgil, and especially Virgil’s Aeneid, had always been prized and de-facto Christian education material ever since Augustine wrote that it was Virgil’s Aeneid, along with Cicero’s Republic and now lost Hortensius, that had brought him to a knowledge of God and appreciation of the double desire for beauty in the human body and mind. In fact, while Exodus may have been the theologized work of migration and overcoming due to its standing in the Biblical corpus, it was Virgil’s Aeneid, whereby Aeneas founds Rome and is, in a sense, the father of the West, which served as the political and ethnic exodus story for Christian Europe. Indeed, the old Protestant claims of apostasy were rooted in this cosmopolitan paganism that supposedly infiltrated Christianity through the rise of Constantine, Theodosius, the Papacy, and especially St. Augustine. After all, if Rome had come to occupy such a central place in Catholicism, and Aeneas was the founder of Rome, then the companion relationship between Roman paganism and the rise of Catholicism went hand in glove; so much so that the Cult of the Saints had basically just replaced the old Roman pagan deities in patronage of cities, territories, professions, and festivals.
FIGURE 3: Aeneas Defeats Turnus, 1688. Although the Hebrew Bible’s story of the Exodus is the quintessential tale of a migratory people traversing from oppression to liberty, it was Virgil’s Aeneid, which was particularly influential over St. Augustine, which was the “exodus” narrative for Catholic Europe moreover than the Biblical Exodus. The celebration, or “Christianization” of pagan stories and ideals was a major issue the Protestant Reformers took objection to.
The claim against cosmopolitanism, emanating from Protestantism, also led to a revived and rejuvenated interest in the old Pagan classics and stories that were widely employed by the Catholic Church and Catholic monarchs and noble patrons of the arts throughout Europe. One cannot understand the works of Peter Paul Rubens without knowing he was a Calvinist convert to Roman Catholicism during the height of sectarian conflict whose patronage was paid for by the du Quenoy,[1] Catholic Church, and other Catholic monarchs and aristocrats throughout Europe. Indeed, the new palaces and future museums, gardens, and the myriad of new statures that donned these great architectural achievements were not so much for a concern for aesthetics as it was theo-political propaganda: the great palaces and gardens of the Catholic world, filled with their fountains, homages to Greco-Roman Antiquity, and other statues served as a direct rebuke to the Protestant Reformation and a celebration of Europe’s pagan past which was not seen as being at odds with its Christianized outcome – or at least to the Catholic Church. Cosmopolitanism, in some way, meant that there were no strangers in a strange land.
In some way, then, the culture of cosmopolitanism is partly responsible, along with the Reformation, with the great explosion of art and culture in the later 16th and early 17th centuries that venerated classical antiquity against the push into modernity – something celebrated by Protestants as a means to carve out their own identity to challenge the authority and inheritance of the Roman Church. In the eyes of Renaissance humanists and cosmopolitans, if Augustine had learned from Virgil and Cicero, if Justin Martyr had praised Plato and Socrates, and if Thomas Aquinas saw himself as a student of Aristotle, and even learned aspects of Aristotelian thought from Averroes, then they could surely revive all of these ancient, even heathen, works to their own benefit.
The culture of the Renaissance was far reaching and its legacy universal, and one that reaches down with us today. Outside of Italy, the Angevins were strong patrons of the arts, promoters of the School of Angers, and tirelessly remained patrons of the arts during the height of religious conflict. But just as the Renaissance saw a revolution in culture, so too did it bring forth a revolution in politics, war, and religion.
[1] For this timeline’s purposes.
SUGGESTED READING
Peter Brown, The Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function in Latin Christianity
Margaret Jacob, Strangers Nowhere in the World: The Rise of Cosmopolitanism in Early Modern Europe
Virgil, The Aeneid
Peter Brown, The Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function in Latin Christianity
Margaret Jacob, Strangers Nowhere in the World: The Rise of Cosmopolitanism in Early Modern Europe
Virgil, The Aeneid