Author: theatrecollection

Hannah Dow is an English graduate who is interested in literature of the English Civil War. She has carried out research on Inigo Jones’s designs in the Richard Southern Collection at the University of Bristol Theatre Collection to further her own understanding of the role of the court masque in 17^th century politics. She hopes that her posts will inspire others to delve into the fascinating materials held in the Southern Collection.

Over the course of February and March I made many trips to view the materials relating to Inigo Jones at the Theatre Collection hoping to understand what went through the minds of those who were lucky enough to witness the 17^th century masque. In my previous post, I considered how the proscenium in Florimène channelled ideas which were of interest to the monarchy, whether personal or political. It is clear that the masque facilitated the celebration of the sovereign; by showcasing the idyllic harmony that could result from presiding authority, Inigo Jones’s stage designs reinforced the monarch’s perceived God-given right to rule. Though there is something more to be said about the masque’s dramatisation of the return to order after disorder. To have goodness, light and the reinstation of peace, there needs to be an initial source of evil, darkness and chaos. The triumph of good over evil seems simple (as indeed it was in earlier productions), however in this blog post I want to unpack this duality with the intention of revealing sources of rebellion which threatened to unravel the fabric of the Caroline masque.

This conflict between order and disorder is most vividly illuminated in the Queen’s masque Luminalia or The Festivall of Light (1638), written by Sir William Davenant. I must admit that it was this masque which dazzled me the most after reading about its production, for example, in the text for Luminalia we are provided with an enchanting description of the first scene: ‘the curtaine in an instant disappear’d discovering a Scene all of darknesse, the neerer part woody, and farther off more open with a calme River, that tooke the sha­dowes of the Trees by the light of the Moone, that ap­pear’d shining in the River’ (3). This description is brought to life in Jones’s set design which depicts a woodland landscape shaded in darkness, except for the light of the moon that is reflected in the river below. (Fig. 1.)

The implementation of innovative lighting techniques was integral to the immersive feel of Luminalia. Jones used candles to mimic the light of the moon, making the audience feel as if they had just stepped into a painting. Though this scene may be alluring in its beauty and supposed tranquillity, we soon learn of rebels who lurk in the night as we are introduced to thieves, witches and even a ‘Devill in the shape of a Goat’ (11). These characters formed a section of the performance known as the antimasque, a brief period of disorder that was isolated from the main plot. Although these rebels rarely interacted with the masque’s main characters, they could still invoke a sense of unease in the audience, largely due to the fact that they took the form of monsters, witches, clowns and fools.

The antimasque, first introduced by the renowned poet and dramatist Ben Jonson in The Masque of Queens (1609), served a singular purpose as disorderly characters were only introduced so that they could ‘be dispelled, as if by magic, in the “discovery” action of the masque proper’ (Craig 181). In Luminalia, the antimasquers are dispelled by the light of the rising sun: ‘the Heaven began to bee enlightned as before the Sunne rising, and the Sceane was changed into a delicious prospect’ (13). Then suddenly, to the amusement of the audience, Aurora, played by Queen Henrietta Maria herself, descends from the heavens ‘in a Chariot touch’d with gold’ (13). Jones’s clouds (Figs. 2 and 3) were a product of complex stage engineering which allowed the Queen to literally descend from the painted heavenly realms above the stage. The combination of ethereal imagery and intricate stage machinery functioned to showcase ‘the innate capacity of the monarch to establish peace’ (Jenkinson 109), while also pointing to their ability to restore light after a period of darkness.

When we get to Davenant’s Salmacida Spolia in 1640 however, this dazzling portrait of royal power would begin to fade in the eyes of spectators. Salmacida Spolia was the last of the court masques, before the events that culminated in the English Civil War (1642-1651) and the execution of King Charles I in 1649. So, it’s safe to say that tensions were high, especially since members of the parliamentary party were cast in the masque alongside the King in a rather awkward attempt at improving relations.

When the curtains parted, the audience were faced with the malicious Fury, Discord, appearing ‘in a storme, and by the Invocation of malignant spirits, proper to her evill use, having already put most of the world into disorder, endeavours to disturbe these parts, envying the blessings and Tranquility we have long enjoyed’. This depiction of unruly femininity is captured through Jones’s costume designs for the Furies (Fig. 4). Anne Daye compares these images to Jonson’s description of the original antimasquer in The Masque of Queens who appears ‘naked armed, barefooted, her frock tucked, her hair knotted and folded with vipers; in her hand a torch made of a dead man’s arm, lighted and girded with a snake’ (65, Orgel 125). It is unsurprising that monstrous women reoccur throughout antimasque iconography as, like the antimasquers, the female body was viewed as unruly due to its close alignment with the unrestrained forces of nature. By presenting women with snakes for hair, the costumes did a lot of work in rooting the masque’s disorder in an embodied vision of demonised femininity.

The storm which Discord inflicts is troubling for the masque as it leads to chaos and uproar amongst the people of the world. Arguably, the storm also held symbolic value beyond the stage as it represented the political turmoil that was brewing in England due to increasing tension between Charles and parliament. The masque was rather controversial in its execution of political symbolism; instead of following the convention whereby the antimasque’s disorder is attributed to a monstrous gang of rebels, the chaos of the storm becomes symbolically intertwined with the fury of civilians. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, then enters King Charles I in the role of Philogenes, ‘the lover of his people’, to save the day. In the masque, Charles’s character is admired for his ability to ‘endure/ To live, and governe in a sulleine age,/ When it is harder far to cure,/ The Peoples folly than resist their rage’. Although one could argue that Charles was reaching out a hand to his enraged parliamentarian opposers by seeking to resolve the conflict at hand (Butler 344), the word ‘cure’ here suggests an authoritative administration of order rather than democratic negotiation between the King and his subjects. It is likely that audience members would have been disillusioned or maybe even sceptical of Charles’s performance and the implied attempt at dispelling public uproar.

The resolution to the masque would be a difficult pill to swallow for audience members and parliamentarians alike, as it is through the commendation of Philogenes’ fortitude for enduring the wrath of his people that grants him help from the allegorical figures Genius and Concord. After Genius persuades Concord to assist the ‘great and wise Philogenes’ the stage is transformed through song and dance, symbolising the restoration of peace and harmony. The celebration of Philogenes’ ‘kingly patience’ promoted Charles’s peaceful approach to conflict and suggested that he would rather conciliate with than avenge his opposers (Butler 345). Such a message may have been more effective if it wasn’t accompanied by the usual theatrics of the masque where royal power is reinstated by Queen Henrietta descending from the heavens ‘with her martiall Ladies; and from over her head were darted lightsome Rayes that illuminated her seat’ (Fig. 5). Unfortunately, the light that emanated from this spectacle would not be enough to dispel the darkness that was awaiting beyond the stage as a civil war was brewing amongst the nation.

 

The prints I have presented to you in these two blog posts are only a glimpse into the Richard Southern Inigo Jones boxes at the University of Bristol Theatre Collection. There is much more work to be done into how these designs could illuminate political perspectives in interesting ways, and I hope I have inspired you to take a look for yourself. While finishing this post, I had the pleasure of meeting Elise, a PhD student in the Theatre Department at Bristol, who is researching ballet designs in the Julia Trevelyan Oman Archive at the Theatre Collection. We discussed how studying the materials of theatre, and the designers who made them, could bring innovative research methodologies to academic study in the arts. This conversation made me consider how the masque stands as a testament to the collaborative efforts of theatrical production as it draws our attention to all the different puzzle pieces that make up the stage. When researching early modern drama, whether it be on the court stage or the playhouse, we must not forget how the artistry of the set designer could enhance ideas or even reveal hidden meanings beyond the words of the playwright.

Works Cited

Butler, Martin. ‘The Caroline Crisis.’ The Stuart Court Masque and Political Culture, Cambridge UP, 2008, pp. 321–357.

Craig, Hugh. ‘Jonson, the Antimasque and the ‘”Rules of Flattery”.’ The Politics of the Stuart Masque, edited by David Bevington and Peter Holbrook, Cambridge UP, 1998, pp. 176–196.

D’Avenant, William, Sir, 1606-1668. Luminalia, Or the Festivall of Light Personated in a Masque at Court, by the Queenes Majestie, and Her Ladies. on Shrovetuesday Night, 1637. , 1638. ProQuest, https://bris.idm.oclc.org/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/books/luminalia-festivall-light-personated-masque-at/docview/2240875517/se-2.

D’Avenant, William, Sir, 1606-1668. Salmacida Spolia A Masque. Presented by the King and Queenes Majesties, at White-Hall, on Tuesday the 21. Day of Ianuary 1639. 1640. ProQuest, https://bris.idm.oclc.org/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/books/salmacida-spolia-masque-presented-king-queenes/docview/2240899143/se-2.

Daye, Anne. ‘The Role of le Balet Comique in Forging the Stuart Masque: Part 2 Continuation.’ Dance Research: The Journal of the Society for Dance Research, vol. 33, no. 1, May 2015, pp. 50–69.

Jenkinson, Matthew. ‘The ‘Understanding’ of Calisto.’ Culture and Politics at the Court of Charles II, 1660-1685, Boydell & Brewer, 2010, pp. 107–133.

Orgel, Stephen. Ben Jonson: The Complete Masques. Yale UP, 1969.

Hannah Dow is an English graduate who is interested in literature of the English Civil War. She has carried out research on Inigo Jones’s designs in the Richard Southern Collection at the University of Bristol Theatre Collection to further her own understanding of the role of the court masque in 17^th-century politics. She hopes that her posts will inspire others to delve into the fascinating materials held in the Southern Collection.

Not much can compare to the dazzling spectacle known as the Stuart masque. For this form of courtly entertainment was characterised by intricate set designs, extravagant costumes and intriguing characters played by courtiers, members of the royal family and sometimes, even the monarch themself (Fig. 1).

Unlike many plays and pageants of the early modern period, the masque was solely performed indoors and was, for the most part, reserved for an audience made up of the élite, although such occasions were surprisingly informal as there were often reports of audiences over-indulging in the merriment of the evening and actors drunk on wine. After taking a trip to the Theatre Collection to view the various prints of costumes and set designs by the 17^th century architect and set designer Inigo Jones, I could not help but picture the scenes that befell the court as they witnessed this theatrical wonder by the flicker of candlelight.

The masque played a significant role in upholding Stuart mythology. Indeed, it is certain that these productions utilised the power of spectacle to showcase the virtues associated with the monarch and reinforce ‘kingly absolutism’ (Butler 21). In the words of Stephen Orgel, the masque was the ‘expression of the monarch’s will, the mirror of his mind’ (45, Illusion of Power). Though to view these entertainments as merely theatrical forms of royalist propaganda would be to overlook how they could stage tensions that arose in the narrative of the court in the lead up to the English Civil War. This is because the masque often ‘functioned at the intersection of rivalrous political discourses’ and could scrutinise the monarch in discreet ways (Bevington and Holbrook 9). Thus, rather than viewing spectators as passive recipients of courtly spectacle, we must consider the various meanings that could emerge beyond the intended staging and acknowledge ‘the heterogeneity of [the masque’s] receivers’ (Shohet 27). This perspective prompts a consideration of the complex ideas which could be transmitted through the aesthetics of the masque, and more importantly, the different ways in which audiences would have perceived them. I hope to illuminate these possible meanings by drawing on some of the interesting materials I came across at the Theatre Collection while searching through a box of Inigo Jones set and costume designs held as part of the Richard Southern Collection (Fig. 2).

My exploration of these holdings will consist of two blog posts. Post one will explore the role of the masque in celebrating the monarchy using Florimène as a case study; then post two will uncover how the imagery of the masque hinted at its eventual downfall. As a graduate of English Literature, it was a bit daunting to open an archive box full of images rather than texts. The experience made me think about how we often privilege the written word over visual artifacts when performing research into early modern drama. This became more apparent when I came across this stage design for Florimène (1635), a masque commissioned by Queen Henrietta Maria (Fig. 3).

I was mesmerised by what I soon found out to be called the ‘ornament’ or ‘proscenium’, also known as the arch which framed the stage. To investigate the meaning behind the intricate design, I searched Early English Books Online  to see if I could locate the text for the masque. But to my surprise, no play-text has survived except for an English summary of the French production.

Fortunately, during my second trip to the Theatre Collection, I came across this text in the Southern Collection, in a simple folder that had the words ‘THE ARGUMENT OF FLORIMENE’ inscribed on the front. Inside was a transcription of the English summary which proved to be very helpful in learning about this masque (Fig. 4). Though the fact that images of the set designs were preserved while the original play-text is lost to time points to how the artistic endeavours of the set designer could be favoured over the words of the playwright, whose identity in the case of Florimène is unknown.

In typical pastoral fashion, the plot summary of Florimène describes a group of shepherds and shepherdesses who are caught up in a series of romantic entanglements and misunderstandings. The masque largely focuses on Filene who cross-dresses as a shepherdess in order to get closer to his love interest Florimène. However, Florimène has already attracted the interest of the shepherd Anfrize who suffers from the pains of love. Florimène’s desire for Filene and commitment to female constancy prompts her to make a trip to the temple of goddess Diana (Fig. 5), where she prays that she may take Filene as her suitor. Diana then acts as a kind of matchmaker to Florimène and the rest of the rural folk as she couples the pairs up so that gender disorder is resolved, and heterosexual harmony is restored. Such narratives where ‘love and chastity gained their divine rewards in the harmony of marriage and peace’ served court ideology by associating these ideals with the union between King Charles I and his French wife, Queen Henrietta Maria (Orgel 136, ‘Florimène’).

These ideas are visualised through the imagery on the arch encompassing the stage. Jerzy Limon observes how the proscenium served a similar function to the designs on the title page of a book by framing the story that is being told within and depicting emblematic images which point to key motifs of the masque (80-81). Returning to the image of the proscenium in fig. 3, we can see that love and stability are symbolised by the shepherdess and shepherd playing ‘rural instruments’ in musical harmony as the positioning of man and woman on either side of the stage materialises the reinstation of heterosexual relations at the end of the masque. Above them are visuals of what seem to be putti, half divine and half human infants (often portrayed with wings), who appear throughout Greco-Roman art to represent love. In the English summary, the putti are depicted as celebrating the harmonious outcome of the masque:

‘over [the shepherd and shepherdess are] Garlands held up by naked Boyes, as the prize of their Victory. Above all, ranne a large Freese, and in it children in severall postures, imitating the Pastorall Rights and sacrifices. (‘The Argument of Florimène’, RS/018/0047. See fig 4.).

It is interesting to think about how the proscenium might be imitating royal hierarchy through the positioning of the rural folk at the bottom of the arch and the semi-divine beings on top. This is because the monarch was closely aligned with divinity due to their belief in a God-given right to rule. The putti surround the title of the masque and name of its female protagonist “FLORIMENE” which is placed in a ‘rich compartment’ at the top-centre of the proscenium (Fig. 4). This visual glorifies the female shepherdess Florimène whose commitment to the feminine ideal of constancy prompts her to seek divine guidance from Diana. The celebration of the shepherdesses’ virtue alongside the wisdom of divine authority can be translated into the ‘mutual rejoicing’ of the subject and monarch as Inigo Jones’s design follows the ‘court masques’ characteristic fêting of royalist order.’ (Shohet 2). Although the masque praised both the monarch and the subject alike, ultimately, the designs for Florimène were crafted to elevate the Queen. John Peacock, for example, states that the proscenium’s display of the shepherd and shepherdess figures recalls the designs that were found on the title pages of French pastoral romances of the period as he notes how like Florimène’s playwright, Jones was ‘working for the Queen in a French idiom’ (158). Florimène’s proscenium is a key example of how the aesthetics of the early masque seeped into royal iconography as Jones’s evocation of French theatre functioned to align the masque’s representation of divinely ordained virtue with the Queen.

The earlier pastoral masques that were commissioned by Henrietta Maria follow this format, with the proscenium doing much of the heavy work by reminding the audience of the peace and harmony that resulted from a higher power presiding over the land. Though this constant reminder of monarchical supremacy would soon leave a sour taste for the audience, as my next post will reflect on the making and breaking of royal image in the Stuart masque as we end on the brewing tempest that is Salmacida Spolia.

Works Cited

Bevington, David, and Peter Holbrook. ‘Introduction.’ The Politics of the Stuart Masque, Cambridge UP, 1998, pp. 1–19.

Butler, Martin. ‘Courtly Negotiations.’ The Politics of the Stuart Masque, edited by David Bevington and Peter Holbrook, Cambridge UP, 1998, pp. 20–40.

Early English Books Online. Proquest, www.proquest.com/legacyredirect/eebo?rd=Y. Accessed 9 Apr. 2025.

Limon, Jerzy. ‘The Emblematic Masque.’ The Masque of Stuart Culture, Associate University Presses, 1990, pp. 52–91.

Orgel, Stephen. ‘Florimene and the Ante-masque.’ Renaissance Drama, vol. 4, 1971, pp. 135–153.

Orgel, Stephen. The Illusion of Power: Political Theatre in the English Renaissance. University of California Press, 1975.

Peacock, John. ‘The French Element in Inigo Jones’s Masque Designs.’ The Court Masque, edited by David Lindley, Manchester UP, 1984, pp. 149–168.

Shohet, Lauren. ‘Introduction.’ Reading Masques: The English Masque and Public Culture in the Seventeenth Century, Oxford UP, 2010, pp. 1–36.

Early English Books Online. Proquest, www.proquest.com/legacyredirect/eebo?rd=Y. Accessed 9 Apr. 2025.