Into the Archive. Part 1: Peace, Putti and Harmony in the Court Masque

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 17th-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).

Fig. 1 King Charles I in Salmacida Spolia (RS/018/0120).

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 17th 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).

Fig. 2 Inigo Jones Archive Boxes from the Richard Southern Collection: 1 (RS/17/1-166) and 2 (RS/18/1-128, RS/191/1-95).

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).

Fig. 3 Inigo Jones, The Proscenium Arch for Florimène (RS/018/0033).

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.

Fig. 4 ‘The Argument of Florimène’ (RS/018/0047).

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’).

Fig. 5 The Temple of Diana in Florimène (RS/018/0036).

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. Proquestwww.proquest.com/legacyredirect/eebo?rd=Y. Accessed 9 Apr. 2025.

 

Student Placement at the Theatre Collection 2025: Further discoveries

This academic year we have welcomed two 3rd year Theatre students to the Theatre Collection. They have each been researching in the archives in order to create an original script. This latest blog is by Madalena, who has been researching the letters of the Bourke family in the nineteenth century.

Hello! Since my last blog post I have spent most of my time making my way through the Bourke letters, specifically boxes BTC80/2 and BTC80/3. Within these is a treasure trove of letters from the 1860s and 70s from Annie Bourke’s admirers, friends, family, costumiers, photographers and more. The collection is described as containing letters addressed to Annie, her sister Jessie and their cousin Eva, however, all three of the five boxes I have explored so far have only been addressed to Annie, with Jessie and Eva occasionally mentioned. I have loved delving into Annie’s life and learning about her from the perspective of other people. It is so interesting to learn about a person’s life without seeing things from their own perspective, it’s like trying to piece together a puzzle without knowing the picture you’re creating.

The narrative of her life reveals itself bit by bit with every new letter I read. She worked as a burlesque* actress at the New Royalty Theatre in Soho while living in Kentish Town, London, but spent plenty of time touring the country and working in many theatres including at Bristol, Plymouth, Durham, Dublin, Lancashire and more. She often met with her admirers at the stage door after a show, and they frequently took her out for meals. She grieved the death of her friend and fellow actress Nellie, who is listed in newspaper advertisements alongside her; she helped raise money for the Royal General Theatrical Fund, and in the 1870s she lived in Vienna with her husband.

I started to build a loose narrative for my screenplay including all these elements, thinking I would focus on her time meeting with admirers in London, when an exciting discovery was made. I finally found one letter written by Annie herself. After reading so many letters addressed to her, reading one written by her felt like hearing from a friend for the first time in years. Though, what was even more interesting was the content of the letter. Addressed to her husband, the letter expressed disappointment and hurt towards him for leaving and not contacting her for a month, including lines such as ‘for the last fortnight I have made myself ill with wondering what could have happened to you’ and ‘I do hope you have not got tired of me, and wish yourself free of me’. Suddenly there is a new interesting narrative to follow involving issues with her husband in the 1870s, and my storyline became less clear.

Letter from Annie Bourke to her husband, 14 October 1872.

There are many affectionate letters from one particular admirer, Henry Benson Stuart, who seemed to feel very intensely towards Annie, even describing his dreams about her and in many of his letters mentioning something about buying her nice new shoes and kissing her feet. The archive box contents then later jumped to the 1870s, with letters from her husband, which were often difficult to read and seemed irrelevant to all the correspondence she had had with admirers in the 1860s. However, in one exciting moment, it became clear that Henry Benson Stuart was her husband! These two men in the narrative I had been piecing together suddenly became the same person, giving all of his affectionate letters to her an entirely new meaning, and a connecting theme for a potential storyline.

I have absolutely loved looking through this collection so far, and it pains me to say that I will not have the time within my placement to make it through the final two boxes. I will have to create my storyline using what I have uncovered in the first three boxes, though I will long to know what other events and scandals remain to be discovered in the final two.

*Victorian burlesques were light-hearted satirical versions of well-known operas and plays.

 

Graphic Design students explore the Welfare State International archive

In February 2025, we visited the University of Bristol Theatre Collection to view the Welfare State International archive. As part of a level 4  project on the Graphic Design course at the University of the West of England, we were tasked with using selected material from this collection to design a publication & exhibition.

What really came through to us from the material in the archive was WSI’s community spirit; the way they travelled around the country and spent time working with groups of people, from schoolchildren to grandmas, and brought everybody together to produce a brilliant show at the end. The variety of letters, posters and diaries held in the collection provide an excellent insight into the minds of WSI’s founders, John Fox and Sue Gill.

The archivists working on this collection – Jill, Billy and Anne, were endlessly helpful, going out of their way to try and find information we asked for, and sharing their knowledge of Welfare State International’s work with us.

 

     

Photos of the UWE Graphic Design projects exhibited at Arnofini, Apr 2025

I had never worked with archive material in this way before, but the experience of going to see the original pieces of work is completely invaluable as a graphic designer. Seeing the letters written on typewriter, the handmade stamps and Letraset sheets, and the biro annotations made by John Fox on his own song lyrics was really influential to the publication we ended up making.

After we visited the archive and during the creation of our work, John Fox, the co-founder of Welfare State International passed away. His aim was always to bring together communities and make theatre accessible for the masses. There is no better testament to this than festivals he started over 40 years ago still being observed, and students like us still looking at and admiring his work.

Ellis Cooke, UWE Graphic Design

To see more of the Graphic Design students’ projects follow their instagram @typenowhere

Episode 3 of Polly Tisdall’s audio diary, ‘Kevin Elyot, Crop Circles & Me’

Polly Tisdall, the current recipient of the Kevin Elyot Award, is publishing an audio diary, ‘Kevin Elyot, Crop Circles & Me’ as part of her residency at the Theatre Collection as she explores the Kevin Elyot archive and her own writing practice.  The annual award established in 2016, generously funded by an endowment from members of Kevin’s family, supports a writer-in-residence at the Theatre Collection to inspire a new dramatic work or other creative or academic outcome.  It is given in memory of Kevin Elyot (1951-2014) – an alumnus of the University of Bristol Drama Department – and the influence he has had on writing and the Arts.

Episode 3 is available to listen to below along with a transcript.  If you haven’t listened to earlier episodes, please head to the previous Kevin Elyot Award blog posts.  Polly’s audio diary is also available to listen to via Polly’s website with new episodes being published throughout her residency.

Jan 2025: Pinning it Down transcript

I’m just opening one of my green boxes.

I’ve been through quite a few of these now and I suppose having slightly got over the kind of initial excitement of just seeing Elyot’s notes and his handwriting and all of that kind of fun bit of delving into this archive, I suppose what’s really striking me now is how rigorous Elyot is, how he questions his decisions as a writer and really grapples with how he’s creating meaning and what it is that he’s trying to say and he really tries to get to the bottom of that. And that’s just really helpful to see.

So just one example of him playing with structure and trying to pin himself down: I’m going to share with you some notes that he’s made here when he’s playing with some ideas for a piece. He’s written ‘a possible through line, a person who’s always let things drift, been taken advantage of, suddenly decides to affront’. He’s written affront, but I presume he means confront, anyway, ‘affront his destiny, resolutions, new lease of life, change of surroundings and lifestyle, etc but then’ those are in capitals, ‘but then fate takes the upper hand and he falls a victim to cancer but keep it comic also cancer rather than AIDS, because that’s another irony he decided to remain celibate but look how good it does him. PS The Lover is a shit’, brackets, ‘may be a prostitute’, close brackets, ‘and’ in capitals ‘he inherits everything and’ in capitals ‘he fucks around despite AIDS. The Russian roulette syndrome. So lots of AIDS chat, but cancer’s the killer’.

So he’s kind of sketching out there, I guess the whole, the whole structure in a very broad brushstrokes, but really getting down for himself on the page what this is going to be and how he’s going to up the stakes. And then he’s written later on, a few pages on, the whole sequence of the play is of plans being thwarted. And then he’s noted to himself, ‘put into dramatic action above ideas – a plan is worked out, only to be dashed’.

So it’s just really evident here that he’s got this idea, he’s got this sense of it, he’s got this character. He’s working out what the ironies are of the piece and how he can really stretch that and emphasise it. And then he’s noting to himself that has to be visible, we have to see it happen in the action of the play. So he’s a very – he seems very conscious or keen to make conscious for himself what is he’s trying to say and how he’s going to do it.

And maybe that’s just obvious that as good playwrights, we should be doing that. Good playwrights in sort of quotation marks. Who knows what that what means, what a good process looks like. But it’s very useful for me to see because I think most of the time when I’m thinking about a piece or writing a piece, I’m not always that clear about exactly what it is I want to say. There’s often several things, a number of things that are kind of crowding in that I want to say or I want to draw attention to, but it’s quite rare that I that I think I go through my ideas and my action in this way and consider how to amp it up. Or the best way to show that theme. I think that’s absolutely something that I should be doing and I want to approach this next play, The Crop Circle Cafe, as it’s working-titled a bit more in that spirit, I think it needs it. I think the idea that I have for that piece requires more of this type of thinking.

Right, so I’ve I’ve come home after my visit to the archive today and on the back of that experience of looking at how Elyot plans, or at least begins to structure and how he asks himself those questions and tries to to pin himself down. I’ve tried to do a similar thing with Crop Circle Cafe and I realise I haven’t shared in this audio diary yet even the starting point concept, so I should do that.

So my initial idea, my starting point for the Crop Circle Cafe, working title, is this cafe that I used to go to when I was? Maybe about 12? with my family on an A road in Wiltshire and it was quite a, it was sort of like a temporary hut sort of style building at the side of the road. But the owner had done it up inside with all these photos of crop circles and all this kind of paraphernalia to do with alien sightings in that part of Wiltshire. And I’ve always remembered the cafe. We only went there a few times but I found it fascinating as a young person, and I still find fascinating that kind of mash up of beliefs, I think, and superstitions and ancient traditions and rituals and military land that all coexist in that part of Wiltshire, very close to where I grew up.

Yeah, and so the idea for the play is to set the action in that café, though it will probably change shape and be be a bit different within the play than it was in real life. And to bring together these characters, who all have very different relationships to land and very different ideas about the supernatural and the spiritual. And to bring them into conversation with one another, and it might be I think, they may well form a sort of science fiction book club or a group that explores conspiracy theories and they all become tight friends. But then I think things are going to go very wrong for them. And I want it to be comic. But also I think it will touch on some quite dark and some difficult tensions as well.

So this is what I’ve just been scribbling down really for myself inspired by Kevin and his process is what is the central question for me in Crop Circle Cafe. And I’ve just written, ‘is it the one that I’ve pitched which is about belief and land and how our beliefs shape our relationship to land and the actions that we will take to protect it?’ Because I think that is what it’s about as a play, but that seems quite big and I guess I’m asking myself now what’s the starting point within that big theme.

I’m still, I mean, I’m just exploring at the moment I think, what I’ve written here is ‘people trying to come back to the land in different ways. The green quest.’ There are some flawed ways of returning to the land, but they’re not necessarily ignoble, but they are in tension with one another, these three people. And then I’m considering, I suppose, for each character what that means.

There’s a lot that I could share with you, but most of it at the moment is really just ramblings because I’m, yeah, going through each character, trying to work out their relationship to the land, I think. And how is it that each of them is trying to come back to the land and what does that mean for them? But this has been very helpful to give myself space to ask these questions because it’s actually helping me unpack the action of the play to you know, how am I going to, as Kevin was discussing for himself in his notes, how am I going to show these tensions? How are they going to rear their heads in the action of the play? And I think I’ve got some ideas.

Episode 2 of Polly Tisdall’s audio diary, ‘Kevin Elyot, Crop Circles & Me’

Polly Tisdall, the current recipient of the Kevin Elyot Award, is publishing an audio diary, ‘Kevin Elyot, Crop Circles & Me’ as part of her residency at the Theatre Collection as she explores the Kevin Elyot archive and her own writing practice.  The annual award established in 2016, generously funded by an endowment from members of Kevin’s family, supports a writer-in-residence at the Theatre Collection to inspire a new dramatic work or other creative or academic outcome.  It is given in memory of Kevin Elyot (1951-2014) – an alumnus of the University of Bristol Drama Department – and the influence he has had on writing and the Arts.

Episode 2 is available to listen to below along with a transcript.  If you haven’t listened to episode 1, please head to our earlier blog post.  Polly’s audio diary is also available to listen to via Polly’s website with new episodes being published throughout her residency.

Dec 2024 Dreaming in Doodles Transcript

So today I’m in the Reading Room at the archive about to delve back into three big green boxes full of scripts and programmes and press cuttings and letters. And I’m still focusing on My Night with Reg. One of Elyot’s most famous plays, as I mentioned before, and at the moment I’m just really intrigued to understand as much as I can about his process of writing that play.

And I’m just looking back through my notes over the last few visits that I’ve made here and one thing that just keeps coming back to me and standing out, which is less about the play and more about, I suppose, as playwrights, how we dream. Even as we’re making notes to ourselves.

There’s a note that Kevin Elyot’s written after lots of different ideas of what form the play could take and ideas for through lines, many of which are very comic. He’s then made a little note in capitals, it’s sort of like a doodle. And it reads ‘Miriam Margolyes, Alan Rickman in Making It by Kevin Elyot’. And then he’s done a similar thing with My Night with Reg. He’s sketched out a playbill which reads ‘Coming next at the Bush Theatre’.

And I think there’s just something so human about these doodles. Maybe they seem egotistical, but I don’t know how real they were for Kevin, or how fantastical really. I may well come to find that out, but I think for me they just resonate because as artists we have to dream and we have to dream big and dare to imagine that this, these notes that we’re making in a spiral bound notebook in our house or in a cafe somewhere, or in a library, however mundane they might seem, we have to imagine them growing into something so much bigger and so much more public. And we always have to think about the audience and about the actors and about all of these elements that are going to come together to make our writing live. And I just love seeing these, these doodles, this sort of dreaming by doodling that Elyot does in his notes to himself.

So, I’m just in the little kitchenette for staff and volunteers, that’s just outside the Theatre Collection Reading Rooms. And once again having a little break, some tea and yeah, I’m still thinking about this idea of dreaming and it’s making me consider how I dream, how I kind of I suppose find my way into the vision, the big vision for the stories I want to tell and what helps me make that live, particularly in the early stages. I’m really right at the beginning with this new play that I’m thinking about and that I pitched for this award.

And at the moment I know that there are three characters and I’ve got a kind of sense of where they come from. One of them, I think is very much this Wiltshire woman. This lady who lives very rurally, who I mentioned in my last audio diary. And then I think I’ve got a Bristolian, a young man. And then an American as well.

So I sort of know that much, but when I’m dreaming into those characters at the moment, I’ve realised, very different to the notes I’m finding in Kevin’s scribblings, I’m casting them with with people that I know – with friends, other actors who I know from drama school, for example, or people that I’ve worked with before and that I have had fun working with. And that’s interesting, I suppose in some ways it’s making me think, should I be dreaming bigger?

And that’s not because I don’t want to work with my friends and with those people. But there’s something interesting about what Kevin’s doing there I think when he’s dreaming about his plays and who might perform them. I feel like he’s thinking really big. Whether or not that ends up happening, whether he gets Alan Rickman, in fact, I know now from looking through the productions of My Night with Reg today that he doesn’t get Alan Rickman on stage for that. I don’t believe Alan Rickman ends up in any of his work that I’m aware of so far, from my reading of his notes. But maybe it’s about helping him to think really big and to believe in his work.

And actually today I had a little sneaky Google in the middle of my my archive research on Kevin because this has got me thinking that I think very local with my work, which is maybe a good thing. But I don’t really go out there and consider what are the big theatres who run playwriting schemes and where could I be sending off my scraps of writing to?

And maybe I should be doing more of that. So I looked up the Royal Court, which you would have thought that I would have done many times before, but I haven’t. I’ve been very focused on Bristol and the South West and I think that is great and I’m very passionate about regional work and I want to write stuff that is about this region in many ways, and can be staged here. But it is good to think a little bit beyond my immediate surroundings, I think and beyond the people that I know because it sort of puts an onus on the writing, on the work, to be excellent. It feels like a challenge. So that’s where I’m at and I think that’s the inspiration that I’m taking away today is to think a little bit bigger.