Chapter 16

THE CRWTH--FLEMING'S "ETRUSCAN RAVANASTRON"--THE MEDIAEVAL BOW--UNRELIABILITY OF EARLY DRAWINGS AND SCULPTURES.

Perhaps the most interesting of the primitive bowed instruments is the Welsh Crwth. Unlike the still more ancient forms yet surviving in the East, it is now completely obsolete: unless we may count the Norwegian and Icelandic langspiel and fidla as descendants thereof.

At one time it was considered an ancestor of the violin, but since Mr. Heron-Allen brought his legal acumen and skill in sifting evidence to bear on the subject, we find that it must unquestionably be looked upon as the _last_ of its race, and not as a direct forerunner of anything else. As to its origin, I should say it was two-fold. The oft-quoted lines of that seventh century Bishop, Venantius Fortunatus:--

"Romanusque lyra, plaudat tibi Barbarus harpa Graecus Achilliaca, Chrotta Britanna canat"

prove, however translated, that the Crwth was essentially British. The structure of the instrument strongly suggests its derivation from the Roman and Greek lyres, and I have little doubt that the first Crwth was in fact a lyre in the hands of one of our early British ancestors, who thought he would try thereon the effect of a Rebab or Kemangeh bow, and most probably got himself heartily laughed at for his pains. This is a kind of experiment that has been tried in modern times, as witness the "Streich-Guitarre" and more recent "Streich-Zither."

That the Eastern fiddles should have come to Britain then is not a very extravagant supposition. The distance is not great from northern Africa, through Spain, where a form of Rebab is still played by the Basque peasantry, on through Europe generally and across the Channel to England. Also, it is very likely that there were a number of Orientals in attendance on the Imperial Court of the Caesars who would naturally bring their customs, religions and arts with them.

I do not think the Greeks and Romans made any use of the bow whatever, although, considering the enormous spread of the Roman Empire, and, as I say, the diverse nationalities that surrounded the court, many of the Indian, Persian and African bowed instruments must have been fairly familiar objects in Rome and elsewhere. But being instruments of conquered nations; primitive in construction and strange in tonality; they were probably held in too light esteem ever to be adopted and developed by people of such importance and civilization as the Romans or Greeks.

I say all this with due respect to Mr. Fleming. This gentleman has contributed sundry valuable works to the bibliography of the violin, and in certain places mentions an Etruscan vase illustrated in a catalogue published by Prince Lucien Napoleon of Canino. He describes the decorations of this vase as follows: "The subject is a man seated reading a volume to two youths, who, leaning on knotted sticks, are listening attentively. On a little table or box in front of the principal figure is inscribed the name 'Chironeis.' On each side of the reader is an object which authorities in these matters term 'thecae,' indicating the profession of this principal figure. One of these has a neck or handle, an oval disc, or sounding plane, and a tail piece extending below the disc rather more than half the length of the neck. From the upper extremity of the neck to the lower extremity of the disc are stretched strings, and across these strings at the centre of the disc is placed a bow of as rational construction as anything that has come down to us prior to the days of Corelli. The instrument is indeed almost identical with the Ravanastron." Now all this sounds very nice and extremely convincing, and whether or no Mr. Fleming himself believes the Greeks used the bow, I have no doubt that he is perfectly satisfied that he has proved such to be the case.

As I have seen neither the original vase or Prince Napoleon's catalogue, I feel some diffidence in throwing my half-ounce of doubt on this pound--good, thumping weight--of fact. However, I have seen the reproduction of the drawing as given by Mr. Fleming in his book, "Violins, Old and New," and, since he makes such a feature of this Grecian Ravanastron, I feel safe in assuming that it is accurately copied.

I distinctly remember first looking at that drawing. I gazed at it long and earnestly. I then referred to the text; after which I rapidly searched through the book to see if there was another drawing of a Greek vase. I thought perchance the printers in a playful mood might have transposed them; such things have happened. But it was not so; the drawing on page 250 was the only one. So I returned to it. There were the reader, the box, the inscription, the attentive youths with their knotted sticks, and, lastly, the "thecae." I was not _long_ in doubt as to which of these objects was the one Mr. Fleming attached so much importance to.

Ods catgut and fiddlesticks! as Bob Acres would genteelly have exclaimed. So this was the Etruscan Ravanastron I had dreamed about; this was the Greek fiddle I had discoursed so learnedly of when my pupils with childlike pertinacity questioned me as to the origin of the violin.

That is a useful sort of vase. If ever I come across anyone anxious to prove something, I shall advise him to use that drawing. That Ravanastron would prove anything; in fact it proved too much for me.

The more I have searched for pictorial records of bow in old prints and drawings, the more disappointed I have become. It is extraordinary how artists of genius have literally "scamped" the poor unfortunate "fiddle-stick" in such works. In the small room of prints and drawings at the British Museum is a drawing of a violinist attributed to Corregio. It is merely a slight sketch, but the violin is beautifully drawn; the corners are well expressed and the perspective is good, but the bow would be unrecognisable as such were it not for the close proximity of the violin. Even in more highly-finished productions the same thing obtains. I have found drawings of crowders, violists and fiddlers where every little detail of dimple, crease and nail has been almost photographically rendered in a hand holding what one knows must be a bow, but if the other hand held a shield, or a newspaper, or a child's whip-top would be accepted with equal readiness by the judicious observer as a sword, paper knife or whip respectively.

Occasionally one finds minute representations of bows, but these are more often than not of such a nature as to be impossible of credence as correct representations.

Another thing that stands in the way of a clear exposition of the bow's development is that even the most reliable drawings and sculptures do not show by any means a gradual improvement in the shape of the bow, for it is no uncommon thing to find fourteenth and fifteenth century representations of bows of quite eighth and ninth century type. It is not likely that any of such primitive bows would have remained in use unbroken for so many centuries, therefore I do not think these later representations of early bows can have been copied from actual specimens then in use, but, where not evolved from the artist's inner consciousness, may have been taken from the drawings, MSS., etc., handed down from the earlier periods. On this point Mr. Heron-Allen makes the following very sensible observations:--"The conclusion we are brought to is consequently this: _either_ all representations of bows which have come down to us are unreliable, _or_, the bow, instead of developing as the fiddle undoubtedly did, remained in a state of primitive simplicity, and bore till a comparatively recent date the same relation to its companion the fiddle, as do the early specimens of Delft ware and the exquisite Sevres specimens, which recline side by side in the cabinets of the delightfully incongruous nineteenth century drawing room. If you ask me to which of these conclusions I incline, I think the two deductions are to one another as three times two are to twice three, and that a combination of the two would probably account for the present misty aspect of the past history of the bow."

One should not lay too much stress on pictorial records; even our contemporary artists are not free from error, and it would be interesting to know what future writers on this subject will say of the nineteenth century violins and bows as represented by popular painters at the Royal Academy and other picture shows. They will find the evidence just as conflicting.

Unconvincing and contradictory as the existing records are, they are all we have, and, such as they are, I give a few selected examples.

A form of bow constantly occurring in drawings, etc., from the eighth to the sixteenth centuries, is Fig. 15. It is only slightly suggestive of the Oriental bows.

In the ninth century we find a bow (Fig. 16) strongly resembling those of the Saw-oo and Saw-Tai. And from the same century we find a miniature representation of a Crwth player with a bow slightly more distinctive in character (Fig. 17).

Similar bows to the above appear to have been pretty general in the tenth century. In the eleventh century a little more variety is apparent, as will be seen in Fig. 18.

Here are to be found the survival of the ninth century form shown in Fig. 17, and a remarkable advance in the form of the one at the bottom, which is doubtless the pattern intended to be shown in the sculptured bow, second from the top. The top one is merely given as an example of the perfunctory work the historian has to examine and yet retain his customary calm exterior.

Fig. 19 gives some examples of twelfth century bows as depicted by the artists of that period. The first two are evidently intended to represent the type shown in Fig. 17. The sculptor probably found the straight line of the hair inelegant. The third (which is from a MS. in the Bodleian Library) and last show a return to the ninth century form in Fig. 16.

This is a form that is found so continually through all the centuries, down to the seventeenth and eighteenth, that I am inclined to the belief that it is fairly accurate. It is very much like the outline of the modern double bass bow. In Fig. 20 are given some thirteenth century bows: the one with the curious sword-hilt is remarkable. In the others we find a return to more primitive lines.

The fourteenth century bows have very little to distinguish them from those of preceding ages, and I give the most noticeable examples I have found in Fig. 21. The second is a very advanced type. Against these must be set those in Fig. 22.

These appear to me as being most probably conventional representations, or copied from older works as suggested above.

Of fifteenth century bows, the pictorial and plastic arts record those shown in Fig. 23, together with the usual atavism or return to earlier types.

This atavism, if credible, is most marked in the sixteenth century as witness those in Fig. 24.

Here are bows that take us back to before the Norman Conquest, drawn by artists who were contemporary with Gasparo da Salo and Andreas Amati. It is quite out of the question to suppose that such bows were used at that time.

The drawings of seventeenth century bows are more convincing. We then get a more definite idea of the nut, which was in most cases a fixture. Also, the head begins to mould itself into something approaching the form of the modern "hatchet."

Although there are cases of bows in drawings as far back as the eleventh century (see Fig. 18, etc.) showing great advances, it is not until reaching the seventeenth century, that one can say with any degree of confidence that the perfect bow is on the horizon.