Abstracts
'Stars Rule over People, but God Rules over the Stars': The Astrological Worldview of Boris Ivanovich Kurakin (1676-1727)
(i) Introduction
The opening passage of Boris Ivanovich Kurakin’s autobiographical Vita, which he wrote between 1705 and 1709, states that he was born at the beginning of the sixth hour of 20 July 1676. Kurakin then proceeds to add that ‘it is my duty to announce this according to the science of astronomy in a figure [an astrological chart] with quadrants about the planets.’ Moreover, in a slightly different version of the Vita, published by Filipp A. Ternovskii in 1884, the commentator notes that Kurakin provides a ‘circular drawing’ after disclosing the time of his birth, which he ‘must suppose is a horoscope, signifying the position of the planets at the birth of Prince Boris.’ The emphasis he places on his horoscope at the start of his autobiography suggests he placed great stock in its importance and relevance to his life.
This aspect of Kurakin’s worldview has been completely overlooked by historians. However, his personal writings reveal an abundance of evidence that suggests he was learned in and swayed by an ancient practice that still had many adherents in court circles across Europe. In this regard, Kurakin’s interest in astrology is symptomatic of continued interest in the pseudo-scientific pursuit among leading courtiers acting on the European stage. As a peripatetic diplomat for much of his life, who spent long periods in Venice, Rome, The Hague, London and Paris, Kurakin was able to absorb the learning and cultural mores of the aristocratic elites of Western Europe. Thus Kurakin’s embrace of an astrological worldview, which first became evident whilst he was in Western Europe at the turn of the eighteenth century, reveals a more complex and nuanced dynamic between Russian courtiers and the West. In other words, Kurakin’s intellectual and scientific interests not only act as a mirror on Western European aristocratic culture, but also challenge what I would argue is the over simplistic notion that Russian courtiers were merely attracted to practical and rational aspects of Western learning and cultural outlook.
Moreover, Kurakin’s interest in Western traditions and practices of astrology provides further evidence of its influence at the Petrine court. Peter the Great himself commissioned Petr P. Shafirov of the Posol’skii Prikaz to translate a series of German and Polish almanacs from as early as 1691 and stretching well into the eighteenth century. The tsar also commissioned the printing of a Russian calendar-almanac in 1708, which continued to be published until his death in 1725. These calendars contained prognostications relating to health and the weather, as well as state matters relating to military and political affairs. The monarch also endorsed a series of New Year prognostications in the first decade of the eighteenth century by Stefan Iavorskii, the acting head of the Russian Orthodox Church. These prognostications formed the culmination of the bishop’s public sermon on New Year’s Day, and looked forward to Russia’s military and political destiny in the coming year. Furthermore, Jacob Bruce, a leading Petrine courtier and one of the principal promoters of science and education, also oversaw the production of a series of astrological almanacs (known as the Bruce Calendars) between 1709 and 1715.
In addition, Kurakin’s writings reveal the extent to which he sought to understand and treat his many health problems by knowledge of and reference to astrological laws. Thus, the extremely personal and descriptive manner of Kurakin’s physical and mental woes provides an illuminating (and unique) insight into how a Russian courtier, resident in Europe, sought to direct his life according to heavenly influences.
A study of the astrological interests of Boris Kurakin has much to offer: it can provide fresh perspectives on the cultural, intellectual and medical worldview of a leading figure in Russian court society and a prominent authority in the European political arena in the early eighteenth century. Such an approach does not detract from previous scholarship on Kurakin, which has focussed on either the nature of his official responsibilities or on his vivid accounts of court life and personalities. On the contrary, a study on the astrological interests of Kurakin helps to enrich and flesh out the portrait of one of the most interesting and learned figures in Petrine Russia.
(ii) Health, Humours, Self-Analysis and Astrological Influences
Ill health tormented Kurakin throughout his adult life and the subject permeates his writings. Indeed, in 1718 the diplomat went to the trouble of recording lengthy notes touching on all the illnesses he had suffered and the courses of treatment he had undertaken. These deliberations on his personal health and state of mind are remarkably frank. What is more, they are an invaluable source when studying the extent to which astrological considerations impacted upon Kurakin’s everyday life and worldview. In many ways, Kurakin’s copious references to his health can be viewed in modern terms as a form of self-analysis. By this, I mean that Kurakin was seeking to explore and understand his own body and being in order to live his life in harmony with his natural temperament.
Such an approach was entirely in keeping with early modern approaches to medicine and well being, which were saturated with astrological laws and traditions. In this regard one can draw Kurakin into a Renaissance tradition associated with the astrological autobiography, as exemplified by Marsilio Ficino in De vita libri tres (1480–89). This tradition of medical and astrological self-scrutiny drew on astrology to promote intense self-scrutiny and introspection.
Kurakin begins his account of his health problems by recording that up to the age of six, he suffered from a hernia (gryzha) and gallstones (kamennuiu bolezn). He also writes that he regularly suffered from either hot or cold fevers. However, despite these afflictions, Kurakin notes that he was ‘always healthy’ and that his ‘temperament was hardened to all fatigues’. In the early 1690s, Kurakin suffered from haemorrhoids and constipation, but remained largely free of any more serious afflictions.
However, during the Azov campaigns of 1695-96 Kurakin was stricken with a debilitating bout of hypochondria and melancholy. In the account of this illness, Kurakin describes that ‘so it was in my house’. In this context, the reference to ‘house’ would seem to refer to the astrological meaning of the word, in which house positions indicate how an individual’s personality manifests itself in the world. There is no reason to suggest that Kurakin’s candid confessions of his melancholic temperament were insincere. However, it could also be the case that the courtier was attracted to embrace his melancholic symptoms by knowledge of its fashionable status in Renaissance court society. The lauding of individuals – particularly philosophers, politicians, artists and poets – with a melancholic temperament was derived from a belief that they harboured predispositions to genius. Whilst the Renaissance vogue for the special qualities of the melancholic were largely spawned by Ficino, the roots of this belief can be traced back to Aristotle, who at the beginning of his Problemata XXXI asks: ‘Why is it that all those who have become eminent in philosophy, poetry or the arts are clearly of an atrabilious temperament’?
In 1705, when Kurakin was once again stationed in Moscow for the winter, he was yet again assailed by health woes. The description of this bout of illness, in which Kurakin describes how his internal secret and melancholia was made public by external signs (boils), provides a fascinating insight into his psychological anguish. The severity of Kurakin’s condition was such that he received permission from Peter the Great to remain at home in Moscow in order to receive treatment. The symptoms and course of treatment for melancholia (and its associated external afflictions) described by Kurakin accords with the medical ideas espoused in the medieval textbook, Regimen Sanitatis Salernitanum, emanating from the renowned School of Salernum. Yet, despite the administration of purgative medicines, bloodletting and the prescription of hot baths, Kurakin was not cured. Consequently, he received permission from the tsar to travel abroad to undertake prolonged treatment.
Thus, at the end of July 1705, Kurakin set out from Vil’no and soon arrived in the Pomeranian town of Kolberg. The prince’s distress in Pomerania was so severe that he considered turning back as ‘many situations here were such that I cried inconsolably and was constantly in a state of great melancholia’. Somehow, Kurakin managed to overcome his torment in Kolberg and travelled on to Carlsbad.
Kurakin begin his first course of treatment there in mid September, under the supervision of a town apothecary named Becher, who diagnosed that his patient was suffering from hypochondria, melancholy and scorbutico (scurvy) that was nearing leprosy. The lengthy account of this course of treatment provided by Kurakin is extremely frank. Indeed, Kurakin almost proudly states that he drank 514 glasses of water in this time and went to the toilet an astonishing 182 times. Yet, despite this gruelling course of treatment (or maybe because of it), Kurakin confessed that he received absolutely no benefits.
Kurakin only returned to society in Moscow in early 1707, whereby he almost immediately reached a crossroads in his life and career. In February of that year, he was relieved of his military post in the Semenovskii Regiment, stationed in Zhovkva in western Ukraine, and embarked incognito on a diplomatic mission to Pope Clement XI in Rome.
(iii) Kurakin’s Horoscope
Blessed with relatively good health for the first time in years and in the midst of a prestigious and stimulating diplomatic mission to Rome, which had opened up new career opportunities, Boris Kurakin devoted considerable time to composing his horoscope, entitled The Latitude of Planets-Numbers. In this work Kurakin reveals the full extent to which he had immersed himself in an astrological worldview. Seemingly inspired by his surroundings, which afforded him health and intellectual stimulation, Kurakin fully embraced a literary and philosophical genre of penetrating self-analysis, expounded by the likes of Ficino, which drew on a dizzying array of ancient, medieval and early modern sources.
The lengthy horoscope begins and ends with reference to God’s omnipotence, thereby pronouncing that his astrological work is framed by Christian precepts. The opening reference, in the form of sub-heading, proclaims that ‘there is nothing without God’, whilst the ending affirms that ‘the stars rule over people, but God rules over the stars’. Such protestations of Christian faith, whilst extolling celestial influences, are in keeping with many astrological apologists. However, although Kurakin seeks to frame his horoscope within Christian boundaries, the actual content of his work espouses doctrines repeatedly condemned by church authorities over the course of many centuries.
The horoscope displays a clear structure that opens with a passage on Kurakin’s general temperament and characteristics. These general features are then related to an overall picture of the subject’s life and natural interests and inclinations. Following on from these broad statements, the author then undertakes a relatively brief summary of how the twelve astrological houses relate to his life. This is followed by a section devoted to predictions concerning Kurakin’s health. The horoscope then concludes with a lengthy section devoted to providing annual prognostications, beginning in 1707. These predictions expound upon matters linked to Kurakin’s health, civil and military career, love interests and family affairs.
The opening sentence of The Latitude of Planets places a distinct emphasis on the divinatory arts of physiognomy, metoposcopy and chiromancy in being able to discern Kurakin’s particular heavenly sign. Kurakin immediately cites the influence of Ptolemy. After ascertaining his heavenly sign by way of the physiognomical principles of Ptolemy, Kurakin proceeds to contemplate his temperament, with reference to the Arabic astrologer Alcabitius. According to the Arab astrologer’s theories, Kurakin writes that he should have become ‘more cheerful with the passing years’, yet due to unfortunate incidents in his affairs his humour had taken a different turn and he had become a hypochondriac who was introspective and timid. This astrological form of self-analysis accords with his medical notes and with his Vita, which chart the onset of his hypochondria and melancholia during the Azov campaigns of the mid 1690s. Having outlined his general temperament and characteristics, Kurakin proceeds to discuss how this interpretation has affected his life. We learn, for example, that Kurakin takes a keen interest in the campaigns of war and other political discourses, and is also inclined to painting, the science of war and to different sciences and knowledge.
Kurakin’s Vita does not disclose any dishonest or treacherous behaviour directed against the prince. However, it does reveal the psychological crisis he endured in the years immediately prior to the writing of the horoscope, which resulted in great emotional turmoil and inconsolable fits of tears. Thus, it is not too far-fetched to imagine that political and court intrigue, combined with the pressures of war, greatly exacerbated Kurakin’s fragile temperament.
The author’s preoccupation with court enemies overlaps with the beginning of the section devoted to an interpretation of his future based on celestial events occurring in the twelve astrological houses. After a relatively lengthy discussion concerning Kurakin’s court enemies, the horoscope then proceeds to predict his financial dealings, his lengthy spells of travelling, his military career and his glittering career at the Russian court, before concluding with a section on matters of love and kin.
The author next moves on to an analysis of the subject’s future health, based predominantly on the divinatory practices of chiromancy. By utilising the theories of Cocles, Kurakin surmises that although he is generally healthy, able-bodied and strong, he will have ‘some illnesses and infirmity that will stem from great application in political and courtly affairs’. It is also stated that the prince will be especially prone to inflammations in his blood and brain, which will lead to abscesses in his gums, alongside eye problems and headaches. Interestingly, the horoscope recognises a direct link here between the pressures of court life, stress and bodily afflictions. In other words, Kurakin was well aware of the toll being exerted on his body by the demands of being a leading Petrine courtier. Indeed, this may well go some way to explaining why Kurakin remained geographically removed from the court in Russia after 1710, when he took up permanent residence in The Hague, and subsequently lived in Paris between 1723 and his death in 1727.
The marked emphasis on physiognomy, chiromancy and metoposcopy in Kurakin’s horoscope reflects his almost obsessive preoccupation with his health. It also provides by far the best example, in a Russian context, of the continued belief in what Martin Porter has called the medicalised version of astrological physiognomy. Two of the most widely known Italian astrological physiognomists in the seventeenth century were Patricio Tricasso and Ciro Spontone, whose works were printed throughout Europe. Significantly, when Kurakin left Rome he took with him copies of Tricasso’s Epitome chiromantico and Spontone’s La metoposcopia.
Prior to beginning the final section of the horoscope, devoted to yearly prognostications related to Kurakin’s life, the author writes a fascinating and suggestive passage in regard to how ‘it is known in the past that he, the person considered’ lives ‘more than one time’. Rather than simply being a curious and unrepresentative remark, Kurakin also wrote that ‘according to astronomy’ it was his eleventh birth (rozhdenie) at the beginning of a draft version of his Vita. That Kurakin believed in reincarnation is not inconceivable, especially given his astrological beliefs and the discussion of such ideas in contemporary learned circles in Western Europe.
The seventeenth century generated a widespread debate in learned circles regarding ideas of reincarnation. For example, in 1684, Franciscus van Helmont published Doctrine of the Revolution of Humane Souls, in which he argued for the multiple resurrection of the human body in terms of ‘revolutions’. This was essentially a continuation of early modern ideas concerning metempsychosis and palingenesis. In turn, Renaissance notions of reincarnation drew on the ancient theories of Pythagoras, Plato, Plontinus and Lucretius, among others. Hence, whilst Kurakin’s fleeting references to living more than once do not prove that he believed in reincarnation, it is possible to draw such statements into a wider philosophical discussion that was taking place in some learned circles in contemporary Western Europe.
The final section of The Latitude of Planets concentrates on providing annual prognostications for Kurakin. Health concerns figure prominently in many of the yearly predictions. Moments of particular danger are also highlighted, such as in 1717, when Kurakin would need to be wary of a self-inflicted injury from a firearm. Civil and political affairs also continue to feature throughout the predictions. It is foreseen, for example, that the prince will be promoted in both 1708 and 1709, whilst 1711 will be marked by difficulties stemming from the resentment of courtiers. The annual prognostications also touch on family affairs and matters of the heart.
(iv) Conclusion
Astrology occupied a pivotal place in the worldview of Boris Kurakin. The knowledge and utilisation of the ancient art enabled the prince to assess various aspects of his life, ranging from health concerns, court politics and military affairs to family matters and his love life. Indeed, an awareness of Kurakin’s astrological worldview helps to understand the broad spectrum of his literary endeavours. Thus, far from being limited to The Latitude of Planets, much of Kurakin’s oeuvre can be viewed as following in an astrological literary tradition stemming from the Renaissance.
When viewed within this light, the sheer richness of Kurakin’s writings is enhanced still further. Consequently, he becomes more than a historian, a chronicler of the lives of other Russian courtiers, a travel writer and the leading Russian diplomat of the age, as he also ranks as the finest Russian exponent of a literary astrological tradition dating back to the sixteenth century. Such an accolade does not belittle Kurakin’s learning; rather it provides further evidence of the complex nature of the worldviews of European courtiers at the turn of the eighteenth century. In this regard, Kurakin’s extraordinary writings are an invaluable source for broadening our understanding of the history of Petrine Russia, as well as the relationship (and attraction) of its leading courtiers to Western European ideas and philosophy.
- Robert Collis, Helsinki University
Back to the contents page.
