1 Children of The Monk The essay examines some of the dramatisations that had their source in Matthew Gregory Lewis’s novel The Monk, with a particular focus on Edward Fitzball’s libretto for Edward Loder’s opera Raymond and Agnes. (Part of this essay was presented at the Oxford Brookes Postgraduate Research Conference, June 17, 2014) R. Burdekin, August 2014 Introduction Matthew Lewis was not twenty when he wrote his Gothic shocker, The Monk, published anonymously in 1796 1 . It records the fall from grace of the monk Ambrosio, a shining and much adored example of moral rectitude. Having described the adulation, the book charts his seduction by Matilda, who is apparently an evil spirit sent for the purpose. Having tasted the joys of sin, he becomes ever more demanding and is unable to curb his lust for the innocent Antonia, whom he rapes and then murders and who turns out to be his sister. Attempting to thwart him is her and, unbeknown to him at the time, his mother, Elvira, whom he also murders. Eventually, justice in the form of the Spanish Inquisition catches up with him and leads to his death dropped by a daemon from a great height onto the rocks below where it takes him six days to die. Running alongside this lurid tale and virtually independent of it was the more sober, although still quite startling, account of Raymond and Agnes that saw constancy, if not always virtue, rewarded. The second edition of the book, later in 1796, named Lewis as the author, as well including that he was now a Member of Parliament. The subsequent notoriety caused his family much embarrassment leading, in 1798, to a fourth edition that watered down the descriptions. There were also accusations of plagiarism some of which Lewis had admitted to in the advertisement to the first edition, although which were wider than he noted there 2 . In 1798, there also appeared The Castle of Lindenberg or The History of Raymond and Agnes 3 , which, at this time of lax copyright, probably had nothing to do with Lewis. It took the relevant sections on Raymond and Agnes in the novel and tied them together with a few linking paragraphs and an introduction to make a novella (or chapbook) of close to 100 pages. One might hazard that this was to sell to those who might be put off by the full novel. This novella was republished a number of times, with some variation between editions 4 . The Raymond and Agnes Subplot The first part of the story is told by Raymond to Lorenzo, Agnes’s brother, to explain his presence in Madrid and relationship with Agnes, who, at that point, is a nun in a convent there. Raymond, Marquis de las Cisternas, has been sent on a tour of Europe by his father, Don Felix, who insists on him taking an assumed name, Don Alphonso, so that he is valued for himself and not for his title. Raymond and his servant are deliberately stranded by their coachman,
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1
Children of The Monk
The essay examines some of the dramatisations that had their source in
Matthew Gregory Lewis’s novel The Monk, with a particular focus on
Edward Fitzball’s libretto for Edward Loder’s opera Raymond and Agnes.
(Part of this essay was presented at the Oxford Brookes Postgraduate Research Conference, June 17, 2014)
R. Burdekin, August 2014
Introduction
Matthew Lewis was not twenty when he wrote his Gothic shocker, The Monk, published
anonymously in 17961. It records the fall from grace of the monk Ambrosio, a shining and
much adored example of moral rectitude. Having described the adulation, the book charts his
seduction by Matilda, who is apparently an evil spirit sent for the purpose. Having tasted the
joys of sin, he becomes ever more demanding and is unable to curb his lust for the innocent
Antonia, whom he rapes and then murders and who turns out to be his sister. Attempting to
thwart him is her and, unbeknown to him at the time, his mother, Elvira, whom he also
murders. Eventually, justice in the form of the Spanish Inquisition catches up with him and
leads to his death dropped by a daemon from a great height onto the rocks below where it takes
him six days to die. Running alongside this lurid tale and virtually independent of it was the
more sober, although still quite startling, account of Raymond and Agnes that saw constancy, if
not always virtue, rewarded.
The second edition of the book, later in 1796, named Lewis as the author, as well including that
he was now a Member of Parliament. The subsequent notoriety caused his family much
embarrassment leading, in 1798, to a fourth edition that watered down the descriptions. There
were also accusations of plagiarism some of which Lewis had admitted to in the advertisement
to the first edition, although which were wider than he noted there2.
In 1798, there also appeared The Castle of Lindenberg or The History of Raymond and Agnes3,
which, at this time of lax copyright, probably had nothing to do with Lewis. It took the relevant
sections on Raymond and Agnes in the novel and tied them together with a few linking
paragraphs and an introduction to make a novella (or chapbook) of close to 100 pages. One
might hazard that this was to sell to those who might be put off by the full novel. This novella
was republished a number of times, with some variation between editions4.
The Raymond and Agnes Subplot
The first part of the story is told by Raymond to Lorenzo, Agnes’s brother, to explain his
presence in Madrid and relationship with Agnes, who, at that point, is a nun in a convent there.
Raymond, Marquis de las Cisternas, has been sent on a tour of Europe by his father, Don Felix,
who insists on him taking an assumed name, Don Alphonso, so that he is valued for himself
and not for his title. Raymond and his servant are deliberately stranded by their coachman,
2
Claude, in the forest on the way to Strasbourg. Claude suggests that they stay for the night at
the nearby cottage of Baptiste and his second wife Marguerite. Baptiste makes a living by
taking people in and murdering them for their money. As Baptiste waits for his sons to help
him with the murders, they are joined by the Baroness of Lindenberg and her entourage who
have got lost. Baptiste now has to wait for reinforcements so that he can properly dispose of
everyone and, during the delay, Marguerite, who has been very unwelcoming to this point
because she knows what is going to happen, is able to warn Raymond about his likely fate.
Baptiste offers them all wine laced with a sleeping potion to ease his task, but Raymond
discreetly throws his away and, as Baptiste is preparing to start his grisly work, Raymond
attacks him and Marguerite stabs him to death. Raymond scoops up the sleeping Baroness and,
together with Marguerite, escape pursued by the robbers. Just as they are about to be caught
they meet up with the Baron’s search party, who have been roused by Marguerite’s son,
Theodore. The robbers are pursued and captured or killed and Marguerite’s other son is
rescued from the cottage.
In gratitude for his services, Raymond (with Theodore, who has become his servant) is invited
to Lindenberg, where he meets the Baroness’s niece, Agnes, and they fall in love. However,
Agnes is destined for a convent and so he tries to persuade the Baroness to rescind that
decision. However, his efforts at ingratiation result in her getting the idea that she is the object
of his affection. Her subsequent disillusionment makes her an implacable enemy and leads her
to dismiss Raymond from the castle and to charge the governess, Cunegonda, to keep a tight
rein on Agnes prior to her departure for the convent. Raymond and Agnes decide to elope with
Agnes escaping by pretending to be the Bleeding Nun who appears on May 5 every five years
and when, even though she is a spirit, all the gates are opened to allow her to walk out of the
castle. Cunegonda overhears the plot and is kidnapped to prevent her warning the Baroness
and kept docile by liberal supplies of cherry brandy, to which she is very partial.
On the allotted day, at one in the morning, Raymond seeing whom he thinks is Agnes, bundles
her into a coach and they make off at breakneck speed and, eventually, crash. When Raymond
comes to, Agnes is nowhere to be found and, while recuperating, he is visited by the ghost of
the Bleeding Nun and realises that he had, in fact, eloped with her, and had sworn her undying
love. She continues to haunt him in consequence. Thanks to the intervention of The
Wandering Jew, he discovers that she is an ancestor who threw over her vows to become a
previous Baron Lindenberg’s mistress and a byword for debauchery. She had then plotted to
murder the Baron at the behest of his brother with a promise of marriage, something that the
Baron had always refused to do. However, once she had done the deed, she was then murdered
in turn to cover up the brother’s complicity and her ghost had stalked the castle ever since. By
giving her bones a proper burial, Raymond is released from the haunting.
In the meantime, Agnes, believing herself deserted by Raymond, had agreed to go into the
convent in Madrid. Free at last, Raymond follows and bribes the gardener to allow them to
meet in secret. Unfortunately, as Raymond admits, “in an unguarded moment, the honour of
Agnes was sacrificed to my passion”. As a result Agnes refuses to see him until, realising that
she is pregnant, she asks him to rescue her from the convent and marry her. Unfortunately, a
letter outlining the plan is found by Ambrosio (his one appearance in the subplot) and, ignoring
Agnes’s pleas, he gives it to the Prioress, who imprisons Agnes and gives out that she is dead,
3
although she is, in fact, keeping Agnes in a secret dungeon with just sufficient food to keep her
alive. It is at this point that Raymond meets up with Lorenzo and they try to find out Agnes’s
fate. Through the good offices of another nun, Ursula, the Prioress is unmasked and hounded
to death by the mob incensed at what she has done5. They go on the rampage, killing nuns and
setting fire to the convent. However, by chance, Lorenzo finds the secret dungeon and Agnes
is rescued although the baby has died. She and Raymond are married and their remaining years
“were happy as can be those allotted to mortals, born to be the prey of grief and sport of
disappointment”.
Dramatisations
Unhampered at this time by considerations of copyright, successful novels were often followed
by dramatisations. In contrast to novels, plays were subject to censorship and required a
licence before performance6. Lewis never produced a dramatisation of The Monk, although he
did write the very successful play, The Castle Spectre (1797). At the time, there seems to have
been only one attempt, Aurelio and Miranda, by James Boaden7 in 1798, the rather odd title
being a result of the censor’s objection to using the novel’s title because of its reputation8. The
reasons for this lack of dramatisations are not hard to find. Not only was such an episodic novel
difficult to cover, necessitating a choice between many incidents, but stage censorship meant
that it would have been impossible to portray or even to suggest some of the incidents. Boaden
got round this by changing completely the characters of Aurelio (Ambrosio) and Miranda
(Matilda) so as to engineer a happy ending with the couple marrying along with Raymond and
Agnes. The play folded after six nights, any prospect of success probably compromised by his
boast of having removed all supernatural elements including the nun, who was to prove the
most durable aspect of the tale on the stage. There have been other attempts at adaptation both
on the stage, and, perhaps more obviously given the story, on film but without conspicuous
success9.
In contrast to this, the Raymond and Agnes subplot found an immediate and long lived
presence on the stage; its thread of boy meets girl, fall in love, are thwarted but overcome all
obstacles to live happily ever after being well fitted to the melodrama that was beginning to
take hold in the theatre and was unlikely to meet any objections from the censor. Also, the
Bleeding Nun added an opportunity for spectacle. Boaden included the end of the Raymond
and Agnes subplot with Agnes being rescued, with Aurelio’s assistance, and the child saved,
with Miranda’s assistance, but the other efforts all concentrated on the earlier part of the story.
The first to appear was Charles Farley and William Reeve’s Grand Ballet Pantomime of Action
Raymond and Agnes or The Castle of Lindenbergh at Covent Garden on March 20, 179710
.
“The Bleeding Nun” was a slightly later eye-catching alternative subtitle11
. A ballet pantomime
was a “dumb show to music, every bar of which had to be filled up by the actor with
appropriate action, than by dialogue”12
.
The ballet largely followed the novel’s outline of Raymond setting out on the tour, seeking
refuge in the bandits’ cottage, outwitting and killing Baptiste and escaping. However,
Theodore is with Raymond from the beginning and has his own love interest, Annette, and it is
Agnes on her way back from a convent in Madrid to Lindenberg, who takes refuge in the
4
cottage rather than the Baroness. As in the novel, they all end up at Lindenberg, where Farley
added an opening scene in which the Baron is shown remorseful for having murdered his
brother and, in this case, blameless, sister-in-law, Agnes’s mother, also, confusingly, called
Agnes. However, it parts company with the novel after Raymond runs off after the ghostly
nun. She turns out to be the murdered sister-in-law, who exhorts him to “Protect the child of
the Murder’d Agnes”13
. Meanwhile, Agnes and Theodore are waylaid by the robbers. Agnes
is captured but Theodore escapes and joins Raymond and Marguerite, and, together, they
rescue Agnes, who is about to be stabbed, and kill the bandits. Back in Spain, Agnes is
presented to Raymond’s father, “who joins their hands”. The performance was then rounded
off with a Spanish fandango. Thus there was nothing of the events in the convent in Madrid. It
is interesting that Covent Garden, one of only three London theatres licenced to perform
spoken drama14
, should stage a version relying solely on mime, a form more associated with
the minor theatres.
The most significant dramatisation was that submitted for licence in November 1809, for
performance at the Theatre Royal, Norwich15
, which was essentially a dialogue version of
Farley’s ballet. Although there was no author shown, it has been attributed to Henry William
Grosette16
, who had a long career as a provincial actor, comedian and singer. According to the
Norfolk Chronicle (April 30 & May 7, 1808), the “admired pantomime” Raymond and Agnes
played at the Theatre Royal, Norwich, where Grosette was reported as acting in May 180917
.
Thus it seems plausible that Grosette saw the Farley ballet at Norwich in 1808, if not before
then, and decided or was paid to provide it with dialogue18
, which then played in various
theatres in the East of England over the next two years19
. Grosette added three scenes that
flesh out the drama further. Firstly, a scene, probably added for comic relief, where the
governess, here called Cunegonde, and servant Conrad collect Agnes from the convent during
which she is seen by Raymond, who immediately becomes enamoured. At the end of Act 1, he
added a final scene where Baptiste’s sons swear vengeance, presumably to ratchet up the
tension. Finally, Raymond and Agnes’s nuptials are blessed by the Bleeding Nun to provide a
more spectacular end. Grosette occasionally lifted dialogue and episodes directly from the
novel, even if he applied them in a different place in the narrative. Thus, Cunegonde’s liking
for cherry brandy is included in the scene where they take shelter in Baptiste’s cottage.
On September 30, 1811, “a new melodrame”, Travellers Benighted or The Forest of
Rosenwald20
, was advertised for performance at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket. This was, in
fact, a minor reworking, possibly by George Colman21
, of the Norwich play with some of the
dialogue omitted and an extra scene showing Agnes, Cunegonde and Conrad getting lost in the
forest. The change in title may have been to avoid confusion with Farley’s Raymond and
Agnes that was running at Covent Garden at the same time22
, although, possibly, it was to
convince audiences that they were going to see something quite different.
These two versions formed the basis of a number of printed editions, including Hodgson’s
Plays, No. 268 (1877?). There were also at least two New York editions by E. Murden
(1821)24
and Samuel French (n.d.)25
. No doubt because it was aimed at juveniles, the
Hodgson’s dialogue and action is simpler than the other versions, although it clearly follows
5
the same outline, and there looks more scope for funny business. It includes the scene with
Annette, as Theodore’s love interest, something the others omit, and severely reduces the first
two Lindenberg scenes in Act 2 to a few lines. The other editions omit completely the opening
two scenes in Lindenberg castle in Act 2 and the final scene at Don Felix’s castle, the Bleeding
Nun giving her blessing when Agnes is rescued. For the most part, they are word for word
transcriptions of the Norwich version. The Cumberland, Lacy and Dicks editions are identical
and include the scene where Agnes etc. get lost in the forest and add to a short scene where the
robbers discuss their likely booty. These changes reduced the number of actors and may reflect
agreement with The Times (October 2, 1811) opinion that heavy cuts were needed. However,
looking at the cast and synopses from the playbills26
of performances at the Theatre, Leeds
between 1823 and 1865, it is clear that some minor variations were made there with the
Countess (Baroness) sometimes appearing, although the Baron never seems to have.
The “splendid and interesting” Farley pantomime, in which, it was claimed, “The system of
terror, … which was once esteemed the acme of composition by the great tragic poets of
Greece, is, for the first time, introduced on our stage in a regular ballet”27
, played for 40
nights28
and reappeared regularly for more than 20 years both in London and elsewhere in
Britain and overseas29
. The remarks on terror, which Aristotle saw as part of the build up to
catharsis, suggest that the work drew its audiences strongly into the experience, although
Lewis, who saw the staging, was perhaps less convinced noting that “at Covent Garden the
Bleeding Nun in Raymond and Agnes has been for many years in the habit of ascending to
heaven with great applause in a sort of postchaise made of pasteboard”30
.
No reviews have been found of the Norwich play but the fact that it was given in quite a few
towns suggests that it was popular. The performance at the Haymarket was not well received
by the Morning Chronicle (October 1, 1811): “The dialogue was bad and the music worse”;
“The scenery seemed as ill-natured as the music”; “attempts of this sort deserve no success at
any theatre”. The Morning Post (October 1, 1811) thought that it had never “seen a more
unsuccessful attempt at dramatic composition”. The European Magazine agreed up to point
“More insipid and commonplace language we have not heard for a long time from the stage”,
but thought that “the scenery was pretty”. The audience on its first night was also
unenthusiastic, which The Times (October 2, 1811) found puzzling for it said that the play was
not noticeably worse than the other, well received, work being offered that evening and,
although it found nothing to praise in either dialogue or music, “the performance is carried on
dextrously enough and the banditti scenes are interesting”. Perhaps the audience was
disgruntled at finding the play so close in action and plot to the familiar pantomime ballet.
However, whatever their initial reaction, audiences quickly took to it and it played for 13 nights
that season, 15 the following and then every season until, at least, 182031
. It was staged many
times in many places, including the U.S.32
and Australia33
, where it was mentioned in a mid-
1840’s Australian novel, James Tucker’s Ralph Rashleigh34
.
The Cumberland edition (1829) is prefaced by the remark that “Few pieces have been received
with more favour than The Bleeding Nun for few are capable of producing more intense
melodramatic interest” and that feeling comes through strongly in the Newcastle Courant
(February 19, 1825) report that “the outrageous melo-drame of Raymond and Agnes followed,
with all its subterranean passages, murderous designs and hair-breadth escapes, to the lively
6
satisfaction of the audience”. By the second half of the century opinion was changing. “Dull,
dreary and incomprehensible” thought The Newcastle Guardian (December 5, 1863) but the
play kept being revived, appearing again at the Haymarket in 1873, where it ran for several
weeks despite the Morning Post (December 27, 1873) reckoning that “the strangely old-
flavoured incidents are not likely long to hold the public”. The play was still being advertised
as late as 1889 at the Avenue Theatre, London35
and 1891 in Middlesbrough36
.
The Leeds playbills, referred to above, catalogue a change in the description of the play from
“Grand Melodramatic Piece” or “Melodrama” in the 1820’s to “Legendary Tale of Terror” in
the 1830’s to “Romantic Drama” by the 1850’s. This may reflect a change in what audiences
expected from melodrama, as it moved away from Gothic to more domestic themes. We can
also see a change in audience attitudes from the naïve excitement in the early part of the
century, as reflected, for example, in the Newcastle Courant report above, to a rather
complacent sophistication in a paragraph in the 1873 Morning Post report: “As an
archaeological revival, Raymond and Agnes … is undoubtedly interesting. We have improved
our knowledge of stage effects during the last half century and have arrived at marvellous
results by employing realism as a means of depicting the unreal. Modern playgoers are
inclined to laugh accordingly at what once moved terror, and to pronounce ridiculous what
their fathers thought gruesome”.
There were also burlesques on the theme, such as The Raiment and Agonies of the Most
Amiable Pair Raymond and Agnes at the Britannia, July 1860, in which the Bleeding Nun turns
out to be a police inspector in disguise looking to arrest the robbers. Spectral companies, who
used the optical device of Pepper’s Ghost, which made people apparently appear and disappear,
also made use of the play and the nun in particular37
. Thus Raymond and Agnes had a long,
versatile and geographically dispersed presence on the stage.
The Bleeding Nun had a life of her own outside of Raymond and Agnes. On February 17, 1835,
A. Anicet Bourgeois and J. Mallian’s La Nonne Sanglante was produced at Le théâtre de la
Porte-Saint-Martin in Paris38
. The only point of resemblance to Lewis is the idea of the
Bleeding Nun, so it is unclear whether The Monk was the catalyst or whether the authors had
drawn on some of the folk tales that underpin it. Stella (Marie de Rudenz) is abandoned in the
Roman catacombs by her lover, Conrad, who suspects that she has been unfaithful. She escapes
and becomes an abbess. Notwithstanding her past treatment, she arranges to meet Conrad but it
ends up with them quarrelling and him stabbing her. She takes on the image of a Bleeding Nun
and is assumed to be a ghost. In this guise she foils Conrad’s possible death in a duel and
brings about the death of her rival, Mathilde, Conrad’s fiancée, at the hands of Conrad as he
lashes out at the Bleeding Nun in the darkness. She gives the signal for the castle to be set on
fire and then tells Conrad of a secret passage so that they can escape together. However, he
refuses to go or to let her go and they perish in the flames.
Operatic treatments
Reeve’s music for the ballet mentioned above included two airs for Agnes and some choruses
and glees and the various plays included considerable music but there does not seem to have
been any operatic treatment for many years. The first opera that used any of the above ideas
7
was Donizetti’s Maria di Rudenz (1838), whose libretto by Salvadore Cammarano was based
on the Anicet Bourgeois and Mallian play. The plot was much simplified and ends with Maria,
mortally wounded, stabbing her rival and Corrado (Conrad) left to live with his conscience,
“Mi punisce con la vita”. The opera lasted two performances.
A closer operatic treatment came with Eugène Scribe and Germain Delavigne’s libretto, La
Nonne Sanglante. They had already written one opera steeped in Gothic elements in the highly
successful grand opera, Robert le Diable, which possibly drew on The Monk in its use of a
magic branch to seduce the innocent victim. In La Nonne Sanglante they attempted to draw
more directly on Lewis’s ideas adding a political background and throwing in plenty of pageant
and spectacle. There is a war between Count Luddorf and Baron Moldaw. A peace is brokered
by Peter the Hermit to be made permanent by the marriage of Agnes, Moldaw’s daughter, to
Theobold, Luddorf’s eldest son. Unfortunately, she is in love with Rodolphe, his younger son.
Agnes and Rodolphe plan to elope with Agnes escaping by pretending to be the Bleeding Nun
but here, after Rodolphe runs off with the ghostly nun, she can only be bought off by Rodolphe
killing the man who murdered her. Theobold dies and Rodolphe is free to marry Agnes but as
he is about to go through with the ceremony, the Bleeding Nun appears and tells him that her
murderer is his father. Unable to go through with his promise to kill the murderer, he calls off
the wedding to the rage of the Moldaws. They plan to kill Rodolphe in revenge but Count
Luddorf is seized by conscience and goes in his son’s place and is killed. The Nun now
appears and forgives the Count and they ascend to heaven, presumably leaving Rodolphe and
Agnes to marry and peace to reign. It is not altogether surprising that Scribe and Delavigne
found difficulty in getting a composer interested in taking it. Berlioz39
began but dropped out
after composing a few sections and it was not until Gounod took it on that it finally saw the
stage at the Paris Opéra on October 18, 1854, although it closed for unclear reasons after 11
performances even though it appears to have been reasonably successful40
.
The most thorough attempt at an operatic treatment was Edward Loder’s Raymond and Agnes
with a libretto by Edward Fitzball (1792-1873). The opera41
was premièred at the Theatre
Royal, Manchester on August 14, 1855 and revived at the St James’s Theatre, London on June
11, 1859. In both instances, it failed despite encouraging notices. Fitzball, nicknamed “the
Terrible Fitzball” for his sensational melodramas, was coming towards the end of a long career
that saw him write or adapt some 170 plays and librettos. The libretto appears to have been
originally written in 1848 for the Princess’s Theatre, where Loder was Musical Director and
which had already staged his The Night Dancers two years previously42
. However, only the
libretto published by Charles Jefferys for the 1859 London revival exists. Little is known of the
version used for the Manchester 1855 premiere but from press reports the main differences
seem to have been changes of name for some minor characters, some slight rearrangement of
numbers and a four act structure43
. Unusually there is no trace of either libretto having been
sent to the censor as they should have been44
. Fitzball took a selection of episodes and wove
them together in his own plot together with considerable chunks of standard melodrama
completely unconnected with the story, “an emanation from the unassisted genius of Mr
Fitzball”, was the verdict of the Daily News (June 13, 1859).
The opera opens with a scene for the chorus that introduces Raymond to the audience. The
setting is an inn where Raymond has just won a shooting contest, a similar opening to that of
8
Der Freischütz (1821) by Carl Maria von Weber, who, with his English opera Oberon (1826),
was to become one of the guiding lights of English opera in the first half of the Victorian era.
The Baron has arrived in Madrid to take Agnes, his ward, back to Lindenberg from the convent
in order to marry her and lay the curse that was imposed years before when a nun killed herself,
rather than submit to a previous Baron. Her ghost is said to walk out of the castle every 5
years. While at the convent, Agnes and Raymond have met and fallen in love. Raymond in
disguise manages to get into the convent to try to persuade Agnes to elope but their plan is
thwarted by the arrival of the Baron. The Baron is not only mindful of the curse but haunted
by his past deeds as the bandit leader, Inigo, who killed Raymond’s father and tried to abduct
his wife, Ravella, Raymond’s mother. The Baron and Agnes set off for Lindenberg and,
although only reported and not shown on stage, are saved from bandits by Raymond.
In Act 2, back at Lindenberg, Agnes shows Raymond round the castle and once again an
elopement is in the offing but they are interrupted by the Baron who wishes to reward
Raymond for his help. Naturally, he asks for the hand of Agnes. The Baron cannot grant that
and tells Raymond of the curse. In the ensuing argument the Baron draws a dagger which
Raymond wrests from him and sees that it carries the name of Inigo, his father’s murderer. The
Baron has Raymond imprisoned. The hour is approaching when the Bleeding Nun is said to
walk out of the castle. Agnes decides to impersonate her in order to rescue Raymond and
escape but they find that they do not have the key for the main gate. The Baron enters lost in
the memories of his crimes and, petrified by the appearance of the actual ghostly Nun who
walks out of her portrait hanging on the wall, orders the key to the main door to be given up
and they escape. The Baron quickly realises his mistake and takes off after them.
In the third act, we find that the leader of the bandits, Antoni, who took over when the Baron
(Inigo) left, had, in fact, spirited away Ravella, struck dumb by her ordeal, rather than letting
the Baron take her. Having escaped, Raymond and his group end up looking for shelter at
Antoni’s cottage and, as in novel and plays, the robbers prepare to murder them but they are
warned by Ravella. In the ensuing struggle, she discovers a miniature dropped by Raymond
and she and Antoni realise that he is her son. Peace has barely ensued when the Baron and his
forces enter. The bandits flee and Raymond and Agnes are captured. Raymond laments his
imprisonment while Agnes bemoans her loss until she falls asleep, when a spectre Nun appears
and blesses her while a chorus of them sing a soothing prayer for the pair.
The Baron has an apparent sudden change of heart and says that they may all leave.
Unbeknown to them, he has instructed Antoni, with whom he has now made up, to shoot the
first man who comes through the gate with a woman on his arm, assuming that that will be
Raymond with Agnes. In the event, as the Baron is about to walk through the gate he sees
Ravella, grabs her arm and so is shot by Antoni - “Caught in my own snare”. The final scene
points, once again, in the direction of Der Freischütz in which the villain, Caspar, is shot by
Max in place of the victim that Caspar intended, Agathe.
The idea of Raymond eloping with the ghostly Bleeding Nun is entirely omitted. In fact, he
does not even see her. Only the Baron does and that is the ghost walking out of her portrait
which provided much loved spectacle and could be used for a specific moment to upset the
Baron without interfering otherwise with the plot. In fact, the drama would have been more
9
coherent if Agnes’s impersonation, which is portrayed here more fully than in either the novel
or plays, had caused the Baron’s terror and giving up of the key.
Fitzball would have realised that neither novel nor plays were immediately suitable for an
opera because there were too many characters, which needed to be reduced to 5 or 6 main
singers and too many assorted villains when, by the mid-century, a melodrama villain was
usually a solitary upper-class male. His solution was to make the Baron the villain. The novel
only portrays him as a rather simple, good hearted chap under his wife’s thumb, while none of
the printed editions of the drama, except for a line or two in Hodgson’s, even mention him.
The only versions that include a wicked Baron are Farley’s ballet and Grosette’s original
Norwich version. However, in neither case was it mentioned further, which probably accounts
for its omission in later editions. As in those early plays, Fitzball’s Baron is also a remorseful
Baron. Having a guilt-stricken, villain was more typical of early Gothic rather than later
nautical or domestic melodrama45
.
Fitzball was a printer’s apprentice in Norwich from 1809-1812 and a keen theatre goer46
, so
almost certainly would have seen Grosette’s play there. Even though it was over 40 years
previously, one has to wonder whether that performance had stayed with him in some shape
and influenced his line of thinking in creating the Baron’s role, although he rather muddies the
waters by separating the historic crime to the nun, the origin of the curse, and the Baron’s
crime and thus overcomplicates the drama.
Reaction to the libretto was generally hostile, although the Morning Post, (June 13, 1859) was
quite positive remarking admiringly on Fitzball’s moral sentiment and lyrical gifts and that he
had “include[d] some excellent situations and suggestions for musical effect”. However, others
were less charitable. “[T]he piece … is a farrago of the merest conventionalities of the Opera
stage” thought the Daily News (June 13, 1859) and elsewhere described it as “crambe recocta
(reheated cabbage), without a single new idea”. The Standard (June 13, 1859) contrasted the
simplicity of Italian opera plots with those of English opera where the librettists “desire to cram
into their work all the points which are looked for in regular drama but which it is most
difficult to express musically” and concluded that “the worst feature of Raymond and Agnes is
its libretto”. A century later, Stanley Sadie called it “Weak, conventional and extravagant”47
.
In many ways, the libretto was typical of the problems that beset English librettos at this time:
the lack of a focussed plot, the demand for spectacle over dramatic sense, the seeming inability
to move forward from the examples of Weber or Italian bel canto of 30 years before and the
traditional dialogue and song model that worked against a coherent musical drama,
notwithstanding Loder’s efforts. These all contributed to a becalming of English opera at a time
when Verdi, Gounod and later Wagner were bringing a new creative energy to opera in Britain
and which led to English opera’s demise for a decade from the mid 1860’s.
Thus The Monk, ultimately, spawned no lusty offspring but, even so, their various fates are not
without interest and help increase our understanding of the Victorian stage.
10
1 It was published by Joseph Bell in London. Margaret Baron-Wilson, ed., The Life and Correspondence of M.G.
Lewis, (London: Henry Colbourn Ltd., 1839), p.151, claims that it was published in the summer of 1795. Louis
F. Peck, A life of Matthew G. Lewis. (Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1961), p.23 favours 1796 but
leaves the date as an open question. David Lorne Macdonald, Monk Lewis: A Critical Biography. (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 2000), p.128, says that the novel was completed by September 1794 but not
published until March 12, 1796 (p.129). 2 For example, see Louis F. Peck, A life of Matthew G. Lewis. (Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1961),
pp.20-23. Available at http://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015046389089;view=1up;seq=43 [accessed
on January 27, 2014]. Peck (p.23) queries the idea that the Bleeding Nun idea was taken from Karl August
Musäus’s Die Entführung but Helga Hushahn, “Sturm und Drang in Radcliffe and Lewis” in Exhibited by
candlelight: sources and developments in the Gothic tradition. ed. Valeria Tinkler-Villani and Peter Davidson
(Amsterdam : Rodopi, 1995), pp. 89-98 supports it. See also Lauren Fitzgerald, “The sexuality of authorship in
The Monk”, Romanticism on the Net, No. 36-37 (November 2004, February 2005), Section 2, paragraphs 24 -
35. Available at http://www.erudit.org/revue/ron/2004/v/n36-37/011138ar.html?lang=en [accessed January 27,
2014]. Lewis himself acknowledged that the main plot was drawn from Richard Steele’s “The History of
Santon Barsisa”, The Guardian. No. 148 (August 31, 1713), pp. 296-299. 3 Published by S. Fisher, 10 St John’s Lane, London, 1798.
4 The 1841 edition is available at https://archive.org/details/raymondandagnes00lewigoog [accessed January 16,
2014]. Amalgro and Claude (London: Tegg and Castleman, 1803?) by an anonymous author thinly disguised
the story with some name changes while appending the main plot in a few pages at the end. Sarah Wilkinson’s
Castle of Lindenberg; or The history of Raymond and Agnes (London: J. Bailey, c.1820), related it in the third
person and made other changes so that it read more easily as an independent novel.
5 The description is quite a disturbing one as the forces of law and order are overwhelmed by the mob’s savagery
and is a reminder that the French Revolution’s Reign of Terror was in full spate when this was being written. 6 The Examiner of Plays, at this time John Larpent, held office under the Lord Chamberlain and was responsible
for licencing plays in the City of Westminster, including Covent Garden, Drury Lane and the Haymarket, but
also licenced plays for royal theatres, such as Norwich and York. 7 There is a review of the play in The European Magazine (January, 1799), pp 41-42 and a wide ranging
discussion in David Christopher, “Matthew Lewis’s The Monk and James Boaden’s Aurelio and Miranda –
From Text to Stage”. Theatre Notebook. Vol. 65, No. 3, (October, 2011), pp. 152 – 170, available at http://
www.mendeley.com/profiles/david-christopher/ [accessed January 16, 2014]. Also Jacqueline Penich,
Conservative Propaganda in the Shakespearean Gothic of James Boaden. (University of Ottawa: MA thesis,
2012), p. 82, available at http://www.ruor.uottawa.ca/en/handle/10393/23334 [accessed on March 24, 2014] 8 Louis F. Peck, Op, cit., p. 30. The name Miranda was a suggestion of John Kemble, the manager, and came from
Aphra Benn’s The Fait Jilt, which includes the seduction of a monk that Kemble thought was the source of
Lewis’s idea, Jacqueline Penich, Op.Cit., p.82. 9 Tarquin Productions (2012) http://www.tarquinproductions.co.uk/Monkpress.pdf is probably the most recent
stage attempt while there was a film made in 2011- http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1605769/ . 10
The Airs, Glees and Chorusses(sic) were published in London by T.N. Longman in 1797. 11
The first advertised use that has been found is in the Leeds Mercury (June 25, 1798). 12
H. Barton Baker. “Of Pantomimes and Pantomimists”, The Graphic, (December 23, 1893). 13
This idea of a ghostly mother was taken up by Lewis in his play, The Castle Spectre, performed later in 1797. 14
As a result of patents issued at the time of Charles II, only Covent Garden and Drury Lane, within Westminster
(although effectively within London), were licenced to perform spoken drama. Later the Haymarket was also
granted a licence to stage spoken drama in the summer when they were closed. Until 1843, other theatres in the
area had to use an array of mime and music alongside dialogue to avoid falling foul of the regulations. See
David Worrall, Theatric Revolution. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), Chap.1, particularly pp.33-35. 15
Larpent Collection,The Huntington Library, San Marino, USA. Item 1597. The performance date in Norwich
has not been discovered. 16
For example, W. H. Grosette, Raymond and Agnes. (London: Thomas Hailes Lacy, 1850) 17
The Monthly Mirror, p. 317. 18
The Ipswich Journal (July 8, 1809) records Grosette as directing a production of Forty Thieves at the theatre
there while the Norfolk Chronicle (April 21, 1810) advertised a play by him at the Theatre Royal, Norwich
called The Buffo Carricatto or Dance in Wooden shoes. Thus he had the experience to write the adaptation. 19
Both on the East Anglian circuit, e.g. Ipswich (Ipswich Journal, August 11, 1810), Bury St. Edmunds (Bury and
Norwich Post, October 31, 1810) and Norwich (Norfolk Chronicle, March 10, 1811) and in other eastern
towns such as Lincoln (Stamford Mercury, November 2, 1810), Stamford (Stamford Mercury, December 28,
1810), Grantham (Stamford Mercury, January 4, 1811), Louth (Stamford Mercury, January 25, 1811) and