Early Modern Court Culture: Access (1598-1621) - PDF

8 Access Dries Raeymaekers Introduction In September 1599, the Archdukes Alb...

8 Access Dries Raeymaekers Introduction In September 1599, the Archdukes Albert (1559–1621) and Isabella (1566– 1633), rulers of the Habsburg Netherlands (1598–1621), introduced a num- ber of adjustments to the daily etiquette at their court in Brussels. One of the changes they announced was that members of the court nobility were no longer permitted to kneel on cushions during the celebration of Mass in the palace chapel. Unsurprisingly, the courtiers were none too pleased with this new rule. The prerogative to use a cushion not only protected their knees but was seen as an important symbol of distinction, setting the nobility apart from common church-goers. They were, however, even more disgruntled about another change that was being implemented. Noticing that the doors leading to the princely apartments were suddenly manned by guards, the courtiers accused the archdukes – both of whom had been raised at the court of Madrid – of blatantly ignoring local traditions by attempting to organise their house- hold ‘like that of the king of Spain, with distinctions between rooms, locked doors, and guards at each entrance’.1 In view of the fact that Albert and Isabella were not kings themselves, these measures were deemed particularly excessive. There is reason to believe, however, that underneath the courtiers’ complaint was the concern that their right of access to the archdukes was being brusquely truncated. The anecdote illustrates that having access to the ruler was considered by Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. contemporary elites to be an essential prerogative, the loss of which could have grave consequences. To scholars who have familiarised themselves with the inner workings of court politics, this does not come as a surprise. Since the 1980s many historians have convincingly argued that having access was an indispensable component of the acquisition of power and influence at the early modern court.2 In a political context based on negotiation and reciprocity, the ability to go and speak with the ruler was a crucial asset for anyone wishing to participate in the decision-making process. Moreover, as the ultimate fount of favour and patronage, it was the monarch on whom depended – to a large extent at least – any hopes of fulfilling their subjects’ desires for advancement and fortune. It was the ruler who awarded titles and lands, who bestowed DOI: 10.4324/9780429277986-11 Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  126 Dries Raeymaekers positions and pensions, who granted privileges and retracted them at will. Having access, then, offered one the opportunity to talk to him, to ingratiate oneself with him, to impress him or curry his favour and to convince him of certain viewpoints. It is therefore no surprise that the Brussels courtiers were unhappy about the changes they were being subjected to. They must have realised full well that the new rules regarding access would seriously hamper their ability to exert influence at court. One of the first scholars to point out the importance of access in early mod- ern court politics was the British historian David Starkey, who in 1987 edited an influential collection of essays on the English court.3 In the introduction to this book, Starkey posited that the unequal distribution of the right of access was a political instrument, deployed by the English monarchs to either facilitate or curtail the ability of their subjects to enter in contact with them. According to Starkey, the possibility for personal interaction with the monarch was of crucial importance in the early modern struggle for individual advancement and, in many cases, for political power. On the other hand, a lack of access could influence the course of this competition in a negative sense. By now most historians of the court have subscribed to this argument, and many have added important new insights concerning the nature and workings of – what has been styled – the ‘politics of access’.4 In this way access has grown into a dominant explanatory factor in research with regard to early modern decision- making. Without a doubt, it has become one of the most employed concepts in the vast field of court studies. In this chapter, we will take a closer look at the characteristics of access, at the way it was regulated in different courts and at its significance for understanding early modern court culture in general. Access and the court It can be assumed that having access to those in power was a much-coveted privilege in all time periods, and it undoubtedly still is today. Nevertheless, it could be argued that the early modern court – with its predilection for etiquette and ritual – constituted the environment par excellence in which the importance of access was made tangible, and in which the political, social and cultural impact associated with it was particularly felt. This argument may be Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. supported by pointing to three interconnected developments that took place during the early period, which were to influence the nature of the European princely court – and indeed, of the notion of access itself – in a very profound way. The first development was the fact that, from the fifteenth century onwards, the size of the court began to increase.5 During the Middle Ages courts had been mainly itinerant, however, rulers eventually opted to settle in a more permanent base, usually in or near a centrally located city, which rendered it easier to establish an efficient governmental structure. But as territories grew larger and the political, administrative and social functions of the court started to expand, so did the princely household, comprising not only the ruler and Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  Access 127 his extended family but also a great many courtiers, councillors, clerics, serv- ants, soldiers, traders, artists and general hangers-on. While the household of a minor German princeling might employ anywhere from a few dozen to a few hundred people, the staff at the grand royal courts of Europe eventually ran into the thousands. Together, these scores of people served to keep the court and its expanding administration functioning like a well-oiled machine. However, the swelling numbers required to maintain this service also put increased pressure on the princely residence, where accommodation was usually in short supply and having a room to oneself was a rare privilege. Older buildings in particu- lar were ill-equipped to deal with large crowds and new-fangled sensibilities such as comfort and privacy. Therefore, a more efficient organisation of palace space, and a better regulation of the access to it, became necessary. A second development was no less important. As medieval feudal bonds were gradually substituted for a system of patronage ties, in which high-rank- ing patrons offered favours to a network of clients in return for their loyalty and service, the early modern court increasingly became an arena of competi- tion.6 It attracted all sorts of people hoping to pursue wealth and riches for themselves and their families, looking to secure some form of advancement or seeking positions in the administration of the realm. As the main distributors of titles, lands and offices, rulers took centre stage in this process, often supported by the members of their entourage, who served as power brokers.7 As time progressed, the princely residences of Europe thus became gathering places for all those seeking princely favour, with daily petitioners sometimes running in the dozens. As a result, finding a way to differentiate amongst these scores of visitors, and giving every individual the attention he or she was due, became increasingly important. As a partial solution to this problem, a complex hier- archy was established in which titles and ranks served to determine the social pecking order.8 But as ever more fortune-seekers flocked to the palace in the hopes of meeting the prince, restrictions were needed to channel this influx. Here, too, a better management of access was required. This process, in its turn, ran in conjunction with a third development. The association between monarchy and religion had always been strong, however, in the sixteenth century the medieval doctrine of ‘divine right’ – the belief that a monarch derived his temporal powers directly from God – grew to become Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. the cornerstone of royal power. Connecting the secular to the religious sphere, philosophers and political theorists alike started to discuss the divine nature of kingship, emphasising the elevated position of the monarch and his role as the guardian and executor of God’s will.9 Over time, this line of thinking fostered the development of a highly ritualised court ceremonial in which the messianic character of the prince was put on display for everyone to see. An important feature of this complex ceremonial was the widening of the physical distance between the ruler and his subjects, so as to stress his elevated status. By literally distancing himself from the spying glance of his subjects and denying them access to his person, the monarch strengthened the inviolability and the mystique surrounding his divine persona. Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  128 Dries Raeymaekers Rules and regulations Combined, the developments described above may explain why the control of access became a dominant principle at the early modern court. So in what ways, then, was this principle put into practice? One way of approaching this question is by examining the possibilities contemporaries had to obtain physi- cal access to the prince. This is why historians tend to pay a lot of attention to the accessibility of the princely residence and the security measures that were in place there. As sensible as this approach may seem, it is important to remember that the orbit of early modern rulers was not limited to the seclu- sion of their palaces. Despite having chosen a permanent base to rule from, monarchs moved around, and in their wake followed the court. Thus, in his attempt to characterise the princely court, the eighteenth-century scholar Johann Heinrich Zedler (1706–1751) stated in his famous Universal-Lexicon that ‘the court is wherever the prince finds himself’.10 In other words, the court manifested itself in various ways and under various circumstances, in the main within the palace walls yet frequently also on location – in summer residences, hunting lodges and even tent camps. The control of access was thus necessar- ily dynamic in nature. Depending on when and where the prince was travel- ling, measures were adjusted accordingly. In general, however, the palace was where most princes spent the majority of their time, which is why it may be considered the most logical setting to study the practicalities of access. Before doing so, however, we should take a brief moment to discuss the architectural evolution of the princely residence. Although princely dwellings in medieval times often took the shape of thick-walled castles, built to withstand military attacks by enemy forces, the introduction of cannon and gunpowder rendered such basic defence measures ever more redundant. From the fifteenth century onwards, these older build- ings were therefore increasingly torn down or remodelled, and a new type of residence came to the fore. In line with the three developments mentioned above, this was designed with the purposes of increasing the comfort of the prince and emphasising his magnificence, but also of managing the scores of people who came to see him. An important aspect, therefore, was the devel- opment of a more pronounced distinction between the public and private Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. sections of the residence. Although the medieval great hall had once been the social hub of the court, preferences now shifted towards a more intimate type of architecture that favoured smaller rooms with specialised purposes: a recep- tion room for giving audiences, a bedroom for sleeping, a study for writing letters and so on. In the residential wing of the palace, where the monarch spent his daily life, these rooms were typically arranged in sequence, without hallways, so that one had to pass through a room in order to get to the next. In most cases, the prince’s personal lodgings were located at the end of this enfilade, preceded by a series of ceremonial rooms and antechambers.11 The introduction of a separate suite of rooms for the ruler constituted an important architectural change, for its doors gradually came to function as Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  Access 129 physical barriers marking the boundary between public, semi-public and pri- vate.12 This was convenient, but also necessary, for even though their entry gates were typically manned by guards, the princely residences of Europe tended to be anything but impenetrable. Indeed, perhaps surprisingly, gain- ing admittance to the palace complex was not, in itself, very difficult. At the English court, for example, all that was required was – in the words of historian David Loades – ‘a presentable appearance, a show of legitimate business and a supply of ready cash’.13 This was true for other European courts as well. In contemporary paintings and drawings princely residences are usually shown to be microcosms of activity, in which courtiers as well as visitors and coinciden- tal passers-by took part. Depending on its size and layout, the palace complex therefore needs to be imagined as a space teeming with crowds. Nobles, coun- cillors, ladies-in-waiting and servants all crossed paths in the courtyards, while around them coaches rode on and off. Shops and market stalls were set up within the palace walls, and palace gardens, too, were often open to the public. In the maze of corridors, stairways and antechambers, visitors met to talk to each other and exchange bits of news with the courtiers present. In these cir- cumstances it was virtually impossible to keep all entrances and passages of the princely residence under surveillance 24 hours a day. Contrary to the wider palace complex, however, access to the princely apartments proper was usually strictly monitored. In the seclusion of the scarce personal space made available to him, the prince was anxiously screened off from the outside world. In most European courts, admittance to this private section of the palace was therefore restricted to the happy few. Here, the enfi- lade proved its usefulness, for it effectively functioned as a funnel through which visitors could be filtered on the basis of their rank and position. As a general rule of thumb, the higher one stood on the social ladder, the further one was allowed to penetrate into the court’s inner sanctum. Guards and doormen were under strict instructions not to allow unauthorised persons to pass to the next room without being given explicit permission to do so. To determine whether or not someone could be allowed to enter a certain room, they could refer to a set of rules that prescribed in detail who was allowed inside, for what purpose and at exactly what times of the day. In most cases, these rules were recorded in elaborate household ordinances, many of which have been preserved and Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. can be consulted in archives today. Such ordinances are valuable sources for historians, for they contain useful information on contemporary norms regard- ing access and their development over time.14 By way of an example, we may refer to the famous Eltham Ordinances, which were drawn up in 1526 to establish the order that had to be kept in the English royal household.15 When combined with the surviving floor plans of the royal residences in and around London, these allow us to reconstruct the management of access in the age of King Henry VIII (1491–1547). From the early sixteenth century onwards, the suite of rooms comprising Henry’s per- sonal apartments in his various residences typically consisted of at least a guard chamber, a presence chamber and a privy chamber. The first of these marked Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  130 Dries Raeymaekers the start of the ceremonial route visitors had to follow in order to reach the monarch. It was occupied by the yeomen of the guard, who were stationed here when the king was in residence and whose responsibility it was to check the identity of every visitor. In theory, all members of the court were allowed to enter this room and wait for the king to appear whenever he wished to go out. Only a select group were permitted to push through to the presence chamber, in which foreign ambassadors were received and audiences were given and in which the monarch sometimes dined in state, seated under a can- opy. Here, peers of the realm and privy councillors were given direct access, while a number of designated courtiers and members of staff were allowed inside as well. Finally, the privy chamber comprised the king’s personal rooms, including his bedroom and a few smaller spaces, such as a dressing room and a study cabinet. According to the Eltham Ordinances, this part of the enfilade was off limits to everyone but the king’s immediate entourage. In these private rooms, Henry was attended on by the gentlemen of the privy chamber, a tight- knit group of noble companions who served on rotation. The royal bedroom itself was accessible only to the groom of the stool, who as the head of the privy chamber was a key figure in the royal household.16 The strict rules outlined in the Eltham Ordinances reveal that the gentlemen of the privy chamber occupied a central position at the English court, for they were the only ones who enjoyed direct access to the king on a daily basis. As David Starkey has convincingly argued, this is why they ought to be consid- ered persons of considerable influence at court.17 As a result, the privy chamber gradually adopted the guise of an official household department, membership of which was highly coveted by many aristocrats. From the mid-sixteenth century onwards, however, the privileged status of the gentlemen started to decline. Already in 1540 the privy chamber had been opened to admit oth- ers than those who were strictly its members, and in the following years ever more courtiers were given permission to enter it. This explains why around 1547 a new type of room was added to the enfilade, separating the privy cham- ber from what now became the royal bedchamber. Tellingly, this new room became known as the withdrawing room, indicating that its purpose consisted in allowing the monarch to retreat from view.18 This became all the more important in the second half of the sixteenth century, when a female sovereign Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. ascended the throne. Under Mary I (1516–1558), the personal service of the monarch was taken over by the ladies of the privy chamber, as a consequence of which these women could become very influential.19 Under the Stuart kings, the withdrawing room continued to gain in impor- tance, indicating that in the course of several decades the privy chamber had lost its private character and had become a semi-public space. During the reign of Charles I (1600–1649), for example, it was made accessible to all peers of the realm, and under Charles II (1630–1685), military and naval officers and even persons ‘of good rank and note’ were allowed inside the privy chamber.20 This process, in which ever more people were able to penetrate deeper and deeper into the heart of the monarch’s personal lodgings, steadily continued as Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  Access 131 the seventeenth century progressed. Eventually, the withdrawing room, too, would become a semi-public room, forcing the monarch to retreat further into the enfilade, to his bedchamber, which now became his main private space. Here, access was restricted to a new group of favoured courtiers known as the gentlemen of the bedchamber, who took over the baton from their predeces- sors in the privy chamber as the king’s most trusted companions. Apart from these men, only ministers and secretaries of state would be allowed inside the bedchamber – everyone else was barred from entering unless called for.21 As mentioned above, court ordinances are useful sources in that they pro- vide us with detailed information about the rules concerning access. As with all normative sources, however, they describe expectations rather than actual practices. For example, we know from other sources – including diplomatic correspondence, travel journals and memoirs – that palace doormen and ush- ers could be (and frequently were) bribed by visitors eager to get inside.22 This is a stark reminder that it remains difficult for historians to determine to what extent the rules of access could be circumvented. Likewise, while the control of access was a major concern in all princely residences, we should be care- ful not to assume that the norms in England were similar to those in other European courts. The use of the enfilade was a widespread phenomenon, but as political, cultural and social contexts differed, so did preferences regarding the distribution of the right of access. Local customs tended to be of overriding importance when it came to laying down the rules. For example, in England, Spain, Scandinavia and the German principalities it was generally very difficult to obtain access to the ruler’s private apartments, but this was not the case in France. Even though in the course of the sixteenth century a differentiation of rooms had taken place in most royal châteaux, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the appartement du roi acquired a distinctive public character.23 No distinctions between rooms existed, limiting certain ranks to certain rooms. As Hugh Murray Baillie has pointed out in an influential article, ‘the kings of France expected, and were expected by their countrymen, to live in the full view of their subjects’, mean- ing that the accessibility of the royal residence was considered a crucial feature of the French monarchy.24 At Versailles, for example, the chambre de parade or bedchamber of Louis XIV (1638–1715) served as the venue for the daily Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. rituals that permeated every aspect of the king’s life, such as the lever (‘waking up’) and the coucher (‘going to bed’), both of which were typically attended by large crowds of onlookers. In his Memoirs for the Instruction of the Dauphin, Louis stressed the importance of being accessible, stating that there are nations where the majesty of kings consists, for the most part, in never letting themselves be seen, and this may be reasonable among minds accustomed to servitude, who can only be governed by fear and terror, but such is not the way of the French, and … if there is one thing that characterises this monarchy, it is the free and easy access of the subjects to the prince.25 Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  132 Dries Raeymaekers Louis’s line of thinking presents a remarkable contrast to what was considered appropriate in other European courts. This is not to say that French monarchs were unconcerned about the regulation of access. If anything, the rules of eti- quette at Versailles were instrumental in making sure that no one could barge into the royal bedchamber uninvited when the king was there. But while other courts took recourse to spatial barriers to prevent unwanted guests from intruding, the French court seems to have preferred temporal measures, mean- ing that during the lever and coucher there were strict rules as to who was to be given the entrée at a particular stage of the rituals. Moreover, even at the height of Louis’s regime, when the lever sometimes numbered well over a hundred participants, ushers were present who kept lists of all attendees and knew exactly which persons were supposed to be there and which ones were not.26 In addition, it should be made clear that the French monarchs were not utterly bereft of personal space. They disposed of a petit appartement du roi, situ- ated beyond the bedchamber, which consisted of several rooms and offered a temporary refuge from the bustling crowds. Here, Louis’s great-grandson and heir Louis XV (1710–1774) even had a separate, private bedroom installed, where he spent the night before tiptoeing off to the ‘official’ bedchamber in the mornings. The golden key In terms of accessibility, the court of France offers a stark contrast to most other European courts. Still, it remains to be seen to what extent this relative open- ness mattered in practice. While having physical access to the ruler was con- sidered a strategic advantage by those seeking favour or influence, we should remember that it was only a first step. Several historians have pointed out that access did not necessarily equate with power, arguing that gaining access is only one aspect in a broad array of factors that mattered in court politics.27 Indeed, we should not forget that the right of access was not an end in itself, but a means. Its goal was situated first and foremost in the possibility of build- ing a personal relationship with the ruler. What mattered therefore was being able to talk to the monarch, and getting him to listen. This, as many courtiers discovered, was anything but self-evident. Even if one succeeded in approach- Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. ing them, European rulers could rarely be addressed without being granted leave to do so. In his study of the court of Charles II of England, Brian Weiser therefore points out that historians [tend to approach] access in a binary manner: rulers are seen under the simple rubric as being either strict or easy of access … But … in the sense of the ability to come into contact with the king, [it] was a more nuanced phenomenon.28 Weiser rightly argues that the importance of access was not so much in physi- cal proximity per se as in the possibility for interaction with the monarch. Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  Access 133 The ability to be near the ruler mattered little if it did not result in a concrete opportunity to discuss one’s affairs with him personally, informally and for a prolonged period of time. In that sense, the historiographical tendency to focus on the lay-out and protection of the princely residence somehow misses the point. Having access, after all, was all about having the prince’s ear. Leaving aside the use of correspondence, which must be considered an alto- gether different form of access, opportunities to interact with the monarch on a personal level were generally few and far between. All most contemporaries could hope for was a chance to exchange a few words when rulers left their rooms and made their way through the crowds in order to take a walk in the gardens or attend Mass in the chapel. Usually, however, people had to con- tent themselves with a nod of acknowledgement or a smile. Famously, Louis XIV tended to utter very few words during these daily processions, limiting himself to an elusive ‘je verrai’ (I will see) when confronted with requests for jobs, pensions or promotions.29 A better idea for petitioners was to wait for the lever, during which Louis would allow people to talk to him informally. Again, however, the court of France constitutes a rare exception in this regard. At other European courts, it was simply unthinkable to address the monarch without being spoken to first. In Spain, for example, those lucky enough to attend the solemn ritual when the monarch dined in state were expected to watch in silence as the king took his meal.30 At the English court, a middle course was adopted: Queen Elizabeth I (1533–1603) seems to have been in the habit of calling certain courtiers to come and talk to her when she dined publicly. During the dancing that followed, the queen would continue these conversations, ordering ‘old and young persons to come and converse with her … talking to them in a very friendly manner and making jokes’.31 These conversations cannot have been very comfortable for the courtiers, however, as they were expected to kneel before the queen and talk to her while sitting on their knees, while all around them people were straining their ears to try and overhear what Elizabeth was saying to them. Incidental occurrences excepted, the easiest way for contemporaries to enter into a meaningful conversation with the prince was by requesting an audi- ence.32 On these occasions petitioners were permitted to express their respect and plead requests. In addition, the audience offered a forum to foreign repre- Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. sentatives for tightening diplomatic bonds with the court. Even so, on account of their official character, audiences were subject to various limitations. In the first place, a request to be received could simply be declined. Even if it was approved, one usually had to wait a while before the conversation could take place. Depending on the circumstances, this could last from a few days to weeks or even months. In the diplomatic world especially, delays and hold-ups were the order of the day. But even if the audience could proceed, difficulties remained. Often conversations experienced hindrance from the strict protocol visitors needed to observe. Meetings with the prince typically ran according to a choreography drawn out in minute detail, which frequently led to dis- putes about precedence and decorum. Further, we should not forget that one Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  134 Dries Raeymaekers could seldom speak freely during audiences. Generally, they were attended by a large crowd of onlookers eager to overhear what was being said. In theory, prominent guests could be received in a private audience, but even in this case conversations seldom took place heart-to-heart, as usually the ruler’s groom of the stool or another high-ranking courtier had to be present as well. The above goes to show that, for most contemporaries, gaining access was a conditional right. It was granted with the greatest possible frugality: the physi- cal access to the prince as well as the possibility for interaction was bound to a number of strict conditions. As I have mentioned, however, this was not the case for the prominent members of the court. By the capacity of their offices, only a small number of trusted courtiers enjoyed free access to the private apartments. In most courts, these included the chamberlains serving in the bed- chamber, but also the cabinet ministers and councillors, the monarch’s personal confessor, and – in the case of female rulers – the ladies-in-waiting. To them, access was assured by ordinance, and to a certain degree even enforceable. This privilege brought with it an important strategic advantage. It meant that they had frequent opportunities to talk to the prince about personal affairs, but also about political matters. They were able to offer words of comfort, but also of guidance and counsel. Over time, such conversations could develop into a relationship based on trust and intimacy. In a political constellation largely dependent on the authority of a single ruler, this kind of emotional proximity offered an inestimable asset in the race for favour and – in many cases – political influence. It also provided these courtiers with the opportunity to act as power brokers, mediating between the rulers and those who did not have access to them. In that respect, it is highly significant that in numerous courts the cham- berlains received a gilded key upon their appointment, symbolising the fact that they enjoyed unrestricted access to the monarch’s personal lodgings – and hence, to the nucleus of power (Figure 8.1). While the right of access certainly benefitted those who enjoyed it, the inverse is also true. Being denied access could seriously hamper one’s hopes for personal advancement or a seat at the table. In most European courts, it was the high-ranking household officials who decided whether or not someone wishing to talk to the prince could be allowed to do so. As might be expected, this privilege offered them tremendous control: if they wished, they could Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. deliberately block their enemies at court from gaining access. At the court of Brussels, for example, the Spanish ambassador complained bitterly when his opportunities for seeing Archduke Albert were suddenly curtailed by Albert’s groom of the stool, with whom he had a conflicted relationship.33 In some cases, the right of access could even be monopolised by a household official, who then prevented all others from gaining admittance. This is why princely favourites hungry for power would often try to obtain the most high-ranking positions in the household for themselves. By making sure that they were the only ones who were allowed to see and talk to the monarch, they were able to use their privileged position in order to push their own personal agendas. In Spain, for example, the duke of Lerma, the favourite of King Philip III Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  Access 135 Figure 8.1 Anthony van Dyck, Albert de Ligne, Prince of Barbançon and Arenberg, c. 1625– 1635, Oil on canvas, 214.5 × 127 cm, York Art Gallery © Image Courtesy York Museums Trust :: https://yorkmuseumstrust​.org​.uk/ :: Public Domain (1578–1621), managed to secure no less than two of the three top offices in the royal household (he was sumiller de corps, caballerizo mayor, the third office being Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. that of mayordomo mayor), effectively rendering himself incontournable when it came to deciding who could speak to the king and who could not.34 It testifies to the importance of having the monopoly of access that, in the end, the duke of Lerma – rather paradoxically – seems to have become even more inaccessible than the king himself. Thus, in a letter to a friend, the famous Baroque painter Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640) recalled an incident he heard about when he was staying at the court of Madrid. Rubens recounted that Philip III was visited one day by an Italian nobleman, who pleaded a question, one not described in greater detail. To Philip’s comment that he should go and discuss the matter with Lerma, the Italian answered indignantly: ‘If I could have obtained an audience with the duke, I would not have come to Your Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  136 Dries Raeymaekers Majesty’. Rubens shook his head in disbelief about this sorry state of affairs, adding that ‘it must be difficult to arrange one’s affairs in a country where only one person has the power and the king is only there for appearances’.35 Conclusion This chapter has argued that a strict regulation of access constituted one of the main features of the early modern court in Europe. By deploying a combina- tion of household ordinances, security measures, and architectural innovations, monarchs increasingly attempted to limit the possibilities for their subjects to see and interact with them. This pattern can be observed at all European courts – albeit in different gradations. Contrary to its counterparts in England and Spain, for example, the court of France prided itself on the accessibility of the monarch, who stressed the importance of being visible to his subjects at all times. Yet, at the French court too, access was regulated to a certain extent, by implementing an elaborate system of public daily rituals and using the king’s timetable as a means to control the influx of visitors wishing to speak with him. The consequences of this process of withdrawal were profound. Apart from strengthening the divine nature of kingship and the exalted status of the rul- ers, it necessitated a reorientation of the patronage networks at court, which became more and more dependent on the handful of persons who still had access to them. Few exceptions aside, it was usually the prominent members of the court who, by the capacity of their office, enjoyed this right, and who used it for their own personal and political gain. This is why positions in the princely bedchamber were highly sought after: aspiring courtiers knew fully well that the road to success ran through the palace enfilade. In that sense, the golden key that was awarded to newly appointed chamberlains constituted a powerful emblem. Rather than being a shiny accessory, it symbolised the bearer’s status as a member of the ruler’s influential inner circle. Notes 1 As quoted in Dries Raeymaekers, One Foot in the Palace. The Habsburg Court of Brussels and the Politics of Access in the Reign of Albert and Isabella, 1598–1621 (Leuven: Leuven Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. University Press, 2013), 45. 2 See, for example, David Loades, The Tudor Court (London: Pearson Education Limited, 1986), 85–95; Ronald G. Asch, ‘The Politics of Access: Hofstruktur und Herrschaft in England unter den frühen Stuarts, 1603–1642’, in Alltag bei Hofe. 3. Symposium der Residenzen-Kommission der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen, ed. Werner Paravicini (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 1995), 243–66; Brian Weiser, Charles II and the Politics of Access (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2003); Carlos Gómez-Centurión Jiménez, ‘Etiqueta y cer- emonial palatino durante el reinado de Felipe V: el reglamento de entradas de 1709 y el acceso a la persona del rey’, Hispania 56, no. 194 (1996): 965–1005; Nicolas Le Roux, La faveur du roi: Mignons et courtisans au temps des derniers Valois (vers 1547–1564) (Seyssel: Éditions Champ-Vallon, 2000); and Mark Hengerer, Kaiserhof und Adel in der Mitte des 17. Jahrhunderts: Eine Kommunikationsgeschichte der Macht in der Vormoderne (Konstanz: UVK, 2004). Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  Access 137 3 David Starkey et al., The English Court: From the Wars of the Roses to the Civil War (London: Longman, 1987). 4 For a recent overview, see Dries Raeymaekers and Sebastiaan Derks, eds. The Key to Power? The Culture of Access in Princely Courts, 1400–1750 (Leiden: Brill, 2016). 5 See the discussion in John Adamson, ‘Introduction: The Making of the Ancien Régime Court, 1500–1700’, in The Princely Courts of Europe: Ritual, Politics and Culture under the Ancien Régime, 1500–1750, ed. John Adamson (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1999), 7–41, esp. 12–13. 6 The work of the late Sharon Kettering has been instrumental in analysing the role of patronage in early modern (court) politics, including Patrons, Brokers and Clients in Seventeenth-Century France (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986); ‘The Historical Development of Political Clientelism’, The Journal of Interdisciplinary History 18 (1988): 419–47; and Patronage in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century France (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002). 7 For an excellent example, see Sharon Kettering, ‘Brokerage at the Court of Louis XIV’, The Historical Journal 36, no. 1 (March 1993): 69–87. 8 Recent studies on ranks and hierarchies include Fanny Cosandey, Le rang: Préséances et hiérarchies dans la France d’Ancien Régime (Paris: Gallimard, 2016) and Giora Sternberg, Status Interaction during the Reign of Louis XIV (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014). 9 On contemporary theories on the divine right of kings, see Glenn Burgess, ‘The Divine Right of Kings Reconsidered’, The English Historical Review 107, no. 425 (October 1992): 837–61. 10 As quoted in Jeroen Duindam, Vienna and Versailles:The Courts of Europe’s Dynastic Rivals, 1550–1780 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 3. 11 On the development of the ruler’s personal lodgings, see Monique Chatenet and Krista De Jonge, eds. Le prince, la princesse et leurs logis. Manières d’habiter dans l’élite aristocratique européenne (1400–1700) (Paris: Picard, 2014). 12 On the use of space at court, see Marcello Fantoni, George Gorse and R. Malcolm Smuts, eds. The Politics of Space: European Courts ca.1500–1750 (Rome: Bulzoni Editore, 2009). 13 Loades, The Tudor Court, 86. 14 On the role of court ordinances as sources for historical research, see Werner Paravicini, ‘Europäische Hofordnungen als Gattung und Quelle’, in Höfe und Hofordnungen 1200–1600 (5. Symposium der Residenzen-Kommission der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Gottingen. Residenzenforschung 10), ed. Holger Kruse and Werner Paravicini (Stuttgart, 1999), 13–20. 15 An edition of the Eltham Ordinances appears in A Collection of Ordinances and Regulations for the Government of the Royal Household Made in Divers Reigns from King Edward III to King William and Queen Mary (London, 1790). 16 For the enfilade in the Tudor royal residence, see Simon Thurley, The Royal Palaces of Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. Tudor England: Architecture and Court Life 1460–1547 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1993), esp. chapters 7 and 8. 17 David Starkey, ‘Intimacy and Innovation: The Rise of the Privy Chamber, 1485–1547’, in The English Court: From the Wars of the Roses to the Civil War, ed. David Starkey et al. (London: Longman, 1987), 71–118. 18 Thurley, The Royal Palaces, 138–9. 19 See Simon Thurley, Houses of Power: The Places that Shaped the Tudor World (London: Bantam Press, 2017), 305. 20 See the Ordinances Made by King Charles II for the Government of His Household in A Collection of Ordinances and Regulations, 352–79, here 361. 21 Thurley, The Royal Palaces, 139. 22 Loades, The Tudor Court, 86. 23 On the court of France in the sixteenth century, see Monique Chatenet, La Cour de France au XVIe siècle: vie sociale et architecture (Paris: Picard, 2002). Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.  138 Dries Raeymaekers 24 Hugh M. Baillie,‘Etiquette and the Planning of the State Apartments in Baroque Palaces’, Archaeologia 101 (1967): 169–99. 25 ‘Il y a des nations où la majesté des rois consiste, pour une grande partie, à ne se point laisser voir, et celà peut avoir ses raisons parmi des esprits accoutumés à la servitude, qu’on ne gouverne que par la crainte et la terreur; mais ce n’est pas la genie de nos Français, et, d’aussi loin que nos histoires nous en peuvent instruire, s’il y a quelque caractère singulier dans cette monarchie, c’est l’accès libre et facile des sujets au prince’; cited in Pierre Goubert, ed. Mémoires pour l’instruction du dauphin (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1992), 134. The translation is mine. 26 David M. Gallo, ‘Royal Bodies, Royal Bedrooms: The Lever du Roi and Louis XIV’s Versailles’, Cahiers du dix-septième, an Interdisciplinary Journal XII (2008): 99–118. 27 See John Adamson, ‘The Tudor and Stuart Courts, 1509–1714’, in Princely Courts of Europe, 95–117, esp. 109; and Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 234 and the discussion on 161–80. 28 See the discussion in Weiser, Charles II and the Politics of Access, 13–15. 29 On the use of ‘je verrai’, see François Bluche, Louis XIV (Paris: Fayard, 1986), 523 and 726. 30 On the elaborate dining ritual at the Spanish court, see Glyn Redworth and Fernando Checa, ‘The Kingdoms of Spain: The Courts of the Spanish Habsburgs, 1500–1700’, in Princely Courts of Europe, 43–65, esp. 46. 31 As quoted in Bruce R. Smith, The Acoustic World of Early Modern England: Attending to the O-Factor (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999), 83–4. 32 On the audience, see Peter Burschel and Christine Vogel, eds., Die Audienz: Ritualisierter Kulturkontakt in der Frühen Neuzeit (Cologne: Böhlau Verlag, 2014). 33 Raeymaekers, One Foot in the Palace, 214–15. 34 On the duke of Lerma, see Antonio Feros, Kingship and Favoritism in the Spain of Philip III, 1598–1621 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000). 35 ‘Il quale dando udienza ad un gentiluomo italiano y rimettendolo al Ducca di Lerma (le cui audi- ence erano difficilissime) quel tale gli replicò: “Se avessi potuto aver udienza del Ducca, non sarei venuto da vostra Maestà.” Cosi credo io che debba esser difficile il negociare dove non e che un possa et il Re non serve che d’apparenza’; cited in Max Rooses and Charles Ruelens, eds. Codex Diplomaticus Rubenianus: Correspondance de Rubens et documents épistolaires concernant sa vie et ses œuvres, 6 vols. (Antwerp: Buschmann, 1887–1909). Here vol. III, 479: Pieter Paul Rubens to Pierre Dupuy, October 22, 1626. The translation is mine. Copyright © 2022. Taylor & Francis Group. All rights reserved. Early Modern Court Culture, edited by Erin Griffey, Taylor & Francis Group, 2022. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/durham/detail.action?docID=6794541. Created from durham on 2024-11-12 17:23:37.