A Royal Gift from the First Ballet

Among the treasures of the Musée de la Musique in Paris is a remarkable little instrument that connects the worlds of Renaissance music, the French royal court and the beginnings of ballet. Made in Rome in 1564 by Antonio Irena, this small virginal—or épinette, as it is described in the museum's catalogue—is one of the earliest surviving Italian keyboard instruments.

But its historical interest goes far beyond its age.

According to a parchment discovered inside the instrument, it was presented by King Henry III of France to Balthazar de Beaujoyeulx following the spectacular performance of the Ballet comique de la Reine in 1581. If the tradition recorded by the instrument's history is correct, this modest-looking keyboard once passed through the hands of one of the most important figures in the development of European court theatre.

A little instrument at a magnificent court

Antonio Irena's virginal was made in Rome in 1564, seventeen years before the Ballet comique de la Reine. The Paris museum identifies it as an épinette by Antonio Irena, dated 1564.

The instrument belongs to a period when keyboard makers were producing beautifully crafted, highly portable instruments for domestic, courtly and aristocratic music-making. Unlike a large harpsichord, a virginal could be relatively compact, making it particularly suitable for private rooms and for accompanying singers or other musicians.

Its sound would have been quite different from that of a modern piano. The strings were plucked rather than struck, producing the bright, clear and intimate tone characteristic of the Renaissance keyboard.

And this particular virginal has a story that takes it straight into the heart of the French court.

Balthazar de Beaujoyeulx

Balthazar de Beaujoyeulx—born Baldassare di Belgiojoso—was an Italian musician and violinist who became an important figure at the French court. He arrived in France in the mid-sixteenth century and entered the service of Catherine de' Medici. He was eventually associated with the organisation of court entertainments and became one of the most celebrated figures in the development of the ballet de cour.

Beaujoyeulx was much more than a dancer. He worked across music, choreography, staging and spectacle, bringing together the different elements of court entertainment into something approaching a unified theatrical production.

His greatest achievement came in 1581.

The Ballet comique de la Reine

On the evening of 15 October 1581, the French court witnessed an extraordinary spectacle at the Petit-Bourbon in Paris.

The occasion was the marriage of Anne, Duke of Joyeuse, to Marguerite de Vaudémont, sister of Queen Louise of Lorraine. The production was commissioned within the circle of Catherine de' Medici and involved an extraordinary collaboration of poets, musicians, dancers, designers and stage technicians.

The result was the Ballet comique de la Reine, generally regarded as the first great ballet de cour and an important landmark in the history of ballet and musical theatre.

The performance was enormous in scale. It combined poetry, music, dance, scenery, costumes, stage machinery and mythology. The story centred upon the enchantress Circe, drawing on the Odyssey, while the intervention of the gods restored order and harmony.

The surviving printed account of 1582 gives an extraordinary picture of the event. Music included voices and a variety of instruments, while the spectacle itself employed elaborate stage machinery. The dances were performed by violins, and at one point a large ensemble of musicians appeared within a spectacular illuminated machine representing a golden cloud.

This was not simply a ballet in the modern sense. It was a complete Renaissance court spectacle.

And Beaujoyeulx was at its centre.

A royal reward

It is here that the story of the Antonio Irena virginal becomes particularly fascinating.

According to the parchment found inside the instrument, Henry III presented the virginal to Beaujoyeulx after the performance of the Ballet comique de la Reine.

The physical object therefore potentially preserves a remarkable connection between an actual Renaissance keyboard and one of the most celebrated events of the French Renaissance court.

There is something wonderfully appropriate about the story. Beaujoyeulx's great spectacle brought together music, movement, poetry and visual splendour. The little Italian virginal, meanwhile, represents the intimate musical world behind such court culture: the keyboard instrument that could provide music in a palace room, accompany a singer, or simply entertain its owner.

The instrument had already been in existence for seventeen years when Henry III supposedly gave it to Beaujoyeulx. It was therefore not a newly made royal commission, but an established Italian instrument that had somehow found its way into the French royal orbit.

From Rome to the French court

The instrument's journey is intriguing in itself.

It was made in Rome in 1564, at a time when Italian musical culture was exerting enormous influence across Europe. Catherine de' Medici's French court was particularly receptive to Italian musicians and theatrical traditions. Beaujoyeulx himself was one of the many Italian artists who became part of this extraordinary cultural exchange.

By the time the virginal was supposedly presented to him in 1581, it had crossed both geographical and cultural boundaries: from an Italian workshop to the French court, and from the world of domestic keyboard music into the spectacular world of royal entertainment.

The instrument thus becomes more than simply an example of early keyboard making. It is a surviving witness to the movement of people, ideas and musical instruments between Italy and France.

A story hidden inside the instrument

Perhaps the most extraordinary aspect of this virginal is the parchment itself.

Museum instruments sometimes preserve evidence of their lives that is just as valuable as the physical construction of the instrument. Inscriptions, labels, ownership marks, repairs and documents can reveal who owned an instrument, where it travelled and how it was used.

Here, a small piece of parchment reportedly preserved a tradition linking the instrument directly with Henry III and Beaujoyeulx.

It is a wonderful reminder that historical instruments are not merely objects to be studied for their mechanisms and measurements. They can also carry stories.

And sometimes those stories lead directly into the royal court.