Charles King and Martyr 30 January 2012 Banqueting House London.

From Michael Leapman’s biography of Inigo Jones:

‘He had known for days that it would come to this. As a foggy dawn broke over old Basing House, almost the last Royalist redoubt in Hampshire, England’s greatest living architect, and designer was shivering in his bedroom…

Now on Tuesday 14 October 1645 the firing began again at first light…

there had been plenty of false alarms since he and other court servants had taken refuge with John Paulet, the gallant fifth Marquis of Winchester in his house near Basingstoke that had come to be known as ‘Loyalty House’. Inigo was among a small community of fellow artists seeking protection from the rampaging Parliamentarians.’

The fall of Basing House effectively marked the end of the first stage of the Civil War, as the aristocracy, loyal to King Charles were in disarray and power was fast falling into the hands of the Parliamentarians.

Those of us here know our history and the events that led to the death of the anointed and sovereign King of Great Britain and Ireland in 1649. The reasons are complex and manifold and will never be fully understood. But a time to reflect and ponder, and what better time or place than here today on the anniversary of blessed Charles’s death, that lessons may still be learned for the good and benefit of our nation and beloved Church of England.

How powerful an influence was the court masque on the Charles I and his unswerving belief in his divine right to rule as an anointed monarch? And what part did Inigo Jones play in forming the king’s mind and reinforcing his belief.

The life of Inigo Jones is inextricably bound with that of the Courts of James I and Charles I, and his influence particularly on Charles is not to be underestimated. Initially his mort important patron was Thomas Howard, the Earl of Arundel, who had build up England’s richest collection of paintings, sculptures and antiquities at Arundel House, his London home.

Through Howard, Inigo had become part of the glittering and ill-fated court of Prince Henry, elder son of James I and then of James and later Charles. It was to Inigo that the Royal Family turned to design their splendid palaces which sadly through lack of money were never realized but the few that were built, not least among them this beautiful Banqueting House, became the inspiration for the Palladian movement a century later.

But it is not in architecture but in the ephemeral Court Masque that Inigo had most influence as he creatively worked with the playwright Ben Jonson, the poet John Donne and the actor Edward Alleyn. And worked on equal terms with artists of the calibre and status of Peter Paul Rubens and Anthony Van Dyck.

During the reign of James I under the influence of his Queen, Anne of Denmark, the masque became an integral part of Court entertainment and ceremonial, each masque dedicated to honouring the virtuous monarch, to assert his divine right to rule and to mocking his enemies who invariably were dishonoured or converted to the royal cause which in turn allowed the kingdom to enter into a golden age of peace and contentment.

Over the years Inigo’s stage sets and costumes became ever more elaborate, imaginative and costly but the basic theme remained the same. The Royal family and courtiers wearing magnificent costumes of silk and taffeta were born on clouds to and from their heavenly palaces. The forces of evil wore ragged clothing and grotesque masks and inhabited dark and gloomy caves.

It was regarded as a high honour to be chosen to take part in a court masque and courtiers would spendfortunes on their costumes and weeks with their dancing masters to learn the steps and perform the dances. From an early age Charles took a leading part in the masques and was an enthusiastic dancer and performer.

In 1623 the Venetian ambassador reported

‘Last Sunday the masque took place, danced by the prince and ten other cavaliers. After various preliminaries and appearances of no great account, they descended in disguise from the sky in a cloud. It was a spectacle of some pomp and beauty…’

The last masque of Charles I’s reign SalmacidaSpolia wasperhaps the most splendid of all, and arguably one of Inigo Jones’ greatest successes. Poignantly it was 1640 the year when Charles’ decisions set the course that would end in irretrievable disaster. Several drawings survive which reveal the complexities of the mechanisms used to achieve the breathtaking effects that thrilled the small aristocratic audience privileged to experience such spectacles. As Charles and Henrietta Maria arrived on the scene from the skies, their throne surrounded by clouds the apotheosis of kingshipis triumphantly celebrated. Inigo reported, ‘His Majesty, out of his mercy and clemency….seeks by all means to reduce tempestuous and turbulent natures into a sweet calm of civil concord.’

The King danced the part of Philgenes, a dedicated, benign but misunderstood monarch having to ride out a severe tempest. Inigo used all his skill and ingenuity for the ‘horrid scene’ of the tempest. ‘

No glimpse of the sun is seen, as if darkness confusion and deformity had possessed the world and driven light to heaven.’

Then the scene was transformed into calm and prosperity. A chariot broke out of the clouds bearing figures representing Concord and the Good Genius of Great Britain. Finally praises were sung first to Marie de Medici, Henrietta’s Maria’s mother who was in attendance and then to the King who was seated on his golden throne surrounded by palm trees and heroic statues.

AsMichael Leapman concludes in his biography of Inigo Jones,

‘It was a pointed justification of Charles’s eleven years of personal rule, even though it was known by then that the imminent recall of Parliament would bring them to a close:

“Since strength of virtues gained you Honour’s throne,

Accept our wonder and enjoy your praise!

He’s fit to govern there and rule alone

Whom inward helps, not outward force doth raise.

Even to those at court, privileged as they were to share such spectacle, the credibility gap between the court masque and what was going on in the rest of the country would have seemed glaringly and uncomfortably obvious. The world of courtly love and of divine kingship, so wonderfully crafted and interpreted by Inigo Jones thus reached its apotheosis and then was shattered forever.

Within a year or so the Earl of Strafford had been executed, the Commons had voted in favour of a ‘Grand Remonstrance’ setting out their grievances while there were a worrying escalation of street disturbances in London as an increasing number of people became divided between their support of the Crown and Parliament. In December 1641 Inigo Jones with two other magistrates examined three men who had been involved in a fight outside Whitehall palace. Men carrying clubs and swords, shouting: ‘No bishops, no Papist lords’, at which seven or eight courtiers climbed over the palace railings, drew their swords and struck out at the demonstrators.

In January 1642 Charles citing his Divine Right to Rule unsuccessfully tried to arrest the five leaders of dissent in the Commons, and was forced to flee London.

There were to be no more masques, no more dancing, no more Elysian drama.

In 1645, the wooden masquing house, nicknamed ‘The Queen’s Dancing Barn’ was pulled down by Parliamentary supporters, as a symbol of the court’s decadence, the very place where the cult of Divine Kingship had been regularly and spectacularly celebrated.

Themasque had had a profound influence on Charles. As a shy sensitive and weakly youngster, the idyllic world created by the masque must have been a much needed antidote to the rumbustious, crude and chaotic court of his parents James and Anne. From an early age he joined in the theatricals and loved to dance and sing and wear the elaborate costumes fit for a royal prince.

The masque was far more than propaganda for the cult of Kingship, for in the tableaux the elements of rule by a Renaissance Prince were elegantly displayed. Art, architecture, drama, and science were all patronized and encouraged by the benign rule of a benevolent ruler.

Today in this beautiful building under the gorgeous canvases of Rubens celebrating the apotheosis of James I, Divine Kingship is played out in sacred Christian liturgy. But it is the Divine Kingship of Christ that we celebrate today with all the spendour and reverence at our disposal.

Charles I would both appreciate and approve of what we are about. For in the end, it was Christ’s Kingship that he honoured in his own kingshipand for which he gave his life. For him, as for us Catholic Anglicans, the Church on earth shares the divine hierarchies of heaven. And the traditional ordering of Bishops Priests and Deacons for which Charles gave his life are a sacred and precious treasure the Church squanders at its peril.

And just as the masque sought to express the harmony and benefits of good government, our Divine Liturgy celebrates the harmony of heaven won for us through the saving work of Christ,our Divine Kingupon the Cross.