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Disruptive Dancing

There are two other characteristics of the court masque that I would like to mention here. Both entail an element of disruption that does not appear in Orgel's descriptions or in much of the more recent work on the masque. One is the occurrence of physical disruptions at masques and similar dance entertainments, the other of social and cultural upsets from dancing.

In Plays & Masques at Court During the Reigns of Elizabeth, James and Charles, Mary Susan Steele quotes Sir John Harington's account of the masque Solomon and the Queen of Sheba presented before King James I of England and King Christian IV of Denmark in July of 1606. (See Appendix B for the full account.) While Harington is most likely exaggerating somewhat, the drunken and raucous behaviour he describes is not unprecedented. In an early Tudor disguising, 'the rude people ran up and broke it to pieces and even made an assault upon the King and his companions and stripped them of their garments until they were forced back,'⁴⁵ although the story resolves happily with a banquet and laughter. Later examples include a Jacobean masque by Francis Beaumont where 'The musick was extremely well-fitted... but the perpetual laughter and applause was above the musick,'⁴⁶ and one by Ben Jonson where the Venetian Busino reported:

The repast was served upon glass plates or dishes and at the first assault they upset the table and the crash of the glass platters reminded me precisely of a severe hail storm at Midsummer smashing the window glass. The story ended at half past two in the morning and half disgusted and weary we returned home.⁴⁷

Although this was not always the case, masques could be the occasion of wild and disruptive behaviour rarely mentioned by the scholars who focus on masque texts. It is important to acknowledge these disruptions as equally valid descriptions of masques and courtly entertainments, especially when identifying the masque as a representation of elite culture and values.

Dancing could also change one's station or at least speed its ascent. In Queen Elizabeth's court, 'dancing was an essential accomplishment for both ladies and gentlemen. According to one of his few enemies, Sir Christopher Hatton "came into court "by the galliard", for he came thither as a private gentleman of the Inns of Court in a masque; and for his activity and person, which was tall and proportionable, taken into [the Queen's] favour". He eventually leaped high enough to become her Lord Chancellor.'⁴⁸

Similarly, George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, attracted attention by his accomplished dancing. When 'James I interrupted the performance of Ben Jonson's Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue by shouting out: "Why don't they dance? What did you make me come here for? Devil take you all, dance."... Buckingham sprang to the rescue by cutting an impromptu "score of lofty and very minute capers."'⁴⁹ Even after his death, the Duke remained associated with dancing, 'Eight years after George Villiers had been assassinated, his sons appeared on stage to demonstrate the mutual attachment of the Villiers family and the Royal House of the Stuarts... [and] danced together with the Prince and future King Charles II, then six.'⁵⁰

These accounts of disruption, while interesting in themselves have important repercussions for cultural classifications. Drunken, raucous behaviour is generally associated with popular dancing, but these examples clearly illustrate that it was a common accompaniment for court dancing, as well. Being able to raise or strengthen one's rank through skill at dancing, especially as publicly demonstrated in a court masque, likewise indicates that boundaries between elite and non-elite culture were not rigidly defined, but fluid and mutable.

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Footnotes

⁴⁵ Welsford, The Court Masque, p. 124.
⁴⁶ Ibid., p. 195.
⁴⁷ Ibid., p. 207.
⁴⁸ Brissenden, Shakespeare and the Dance, p. 5.
⁴⁹ Ewbank, '"The Eloquence of Masques", p. 307.
⁵⁰ Ravelhofer, 'Unstable movement codes', p. 262.

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