Chapter 31

"But the most important result of this discovery is, that it may be applied to the establishment of that great desideratum in the learned world--a universal language. Wherever this science of music is cultivated, nothing more will be necessary than a knowledge of its alphabet, which, being almost the same everywhere, will amount to a universal medium of communication. A man may thus--with his Violin under his arm, a piece of resin, and a few bundles of catgut--fiddle his way through the world, and never be at a loss to make himself understood.--I am, &c.,

"DEMI-SEMIQUAVER."

SPOHR AND HIS GUARNERI.

"Shortly before my leaving Brunswick I had a case made worthy of the splendid Violin I had brought from Russia, viz., a very elegant one; and in order to protect this from injury, I had packed it up in my trunk, between my linen and clothes. I therefore took care that this, which contained my whole estate, should be carefully fastened behind the carriage with cords. But, notwithstanding, I thought it necessary to look out frequently, particularly as the driver told me several trunks had been cut down from behind carriages. As the carriage had no window at the back, this continual looking out was a very troublesome business, and I was therefore very glad when, towards evening, we arrived between the gardens of Gottingen, and I had convinced myself for the last time that the trunk was still in its place. Delighted that I had brought it so far in safety, I remarked to my fellow-traveller: 'My first care shall now be to procure a good strong chain and padlock, for the better security of the trunk.'

"In this manner we arrived at the town gate, just as they were lighting the lamps. The carriage drew up before the guard-house. While Beneke gave our names to the sergeant, I anxiously asked one of the soldiers who stood round the carriage, 'Is the trunk still secured?' 'There is no trunk there,' was the reply. With one bound I was out of the carriage, and rushed out through the gate with a drawn hunting-knife. Had I with more reflection listened awhile, I might perhaps have been fortunate enough to hear and overtake the thieves running off by some side-path. But in my blind rage I had far overshot the place where I had last seen the trunk, and only discovered my over-haste when I found myself in the open field. Inconsolable for my loss, I turned back. While my fellow-traveller looked for the inn, I hastened to the police-office and requested that an immediate search might be made in the garden houses outside the gate. To my astonishment and vexation I was informed that the jurisdiction outside the gate belonged to Weende, and that I must address my request there. As Weende was half a league from Gottingen, I was compelled to abandon for that evening all further steps for the recovery of my Guarneri. I passed a sleepless night, in a state of mind such as, in my hitherto fortunate career, had been wholly unknown to me. Had I not lost my splendid Guarneri, the exponent of all the artistic excellence I had till then attained, I could have lightly borne the loss of the rest. On the following morning the police sent to inform me that an empty trunk and a Violin-case had been found in the fields behind the gardens. Full of joy I hastened thither, in the hope that the thieves might have left the Violin in the case, as an object of no value to them; but, unfortunately, it did not prove so. The bow of the Violin, a genuine Tourte, secured in the lid of the case, had remained undiscovered."--_Spohr's Autobiography_.

SPOHR AND THE COLLECTOR.

When Louis Spohr was in London in 1820, he tells us, in his Autobiography, he received a letter couched in the following terms: "Mr. Spohr is requested to call upon Dr. ---- to-day at four o'clock." "As I did not know the name of the writer," he proceeds to relate, "nor could ascertain from the servant the purpose for which my attendance was requested, I replied, in the same laconic tone, 'At the hour named I am engaged, and cannot come.' The next morning the servant reappeared, bearing a second and more polite note: 'Mr. Spohr is requested to favour Dr. ---- with a visit, and to appoint the hour when it will be convenient for him to call.' The servant had been instructed to offer me the use of his master's carriage, and having in the meantime discovered that the gentleman was a celebrated physician, a patron of music, and a lover of Violins, I drove to his house. A courteous old gentleman with grey hair met me on the stairs. Unfortunately he neither understood French nor German, consequently we were unable to converse together. We stood for a moment somewhat embarrassed, when he took my arm and led me into a large room, on the walls of which hung a great number of Violins. Other Violins had been removed from their cases and placed on the tables. The Doctor gave me a Violin-bow, and pointed to the instruments. I now perceived that he was desirous of having my opinion of the instruments. I, therefore, played upon them, and placed them in order, according to my idea of their merit. When I had selected the six most valuable ones, I played upon them alternately in order to discover the best of the half-dozen. Perceiving that the doctor cast upon one instrument glances especially tender whenever I played upon it, I gladly afforded the good old man pleasure by declaring it to be the best Violin. When I took my hat to leave, the old gentleman, with a kind smile, slipped a five-pound note into my hand. Astonished, I looked at it, and also at the Doctor, not knowing at first what he meant; but suddenly it occurred to me that it was intended as a fee for having examined his Violins. I smilingly shook my head, laid the note on the table, pressed the Doctor's hand, and descended the stairs. Some months later, upon the occasion of my benefit concert, the Doctor procured a ticket, for which he sent a ten-pound note."

THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD AND THE VIOLIN.

"But the pleasantest part of our fellowship is yet to describe. At a certain period of the night, our entertainer (the renowned Timothy Tickler) knew by the longing looks which I cast to a beloved corner of the dining-room what was wanting. Then with, 'Oh, I beg your pardon, Hogg, I was forgetting,' he would take out a small gold key that hung by a chain of the same precious metal to a particular button-hole, and stalk away as tall as the life, open two splendid Fiddle-cases, and produce their contents, first the one, and then the other; but always keeping the best to himself; I'll never forget with what elated dignity. There was a twist of the lip, and an upward beam of the eye, that were truly sublime. Then down we sat, side by side, and began--at first gently, and with easy motion, like skilful grooms, keeping ourselves up for the final heat, which was slowly but surely approaching. At the end of every tune we took a glass, and still our enthusiastic admiration of the Scottish tunes increased--our energies of execution redoubled, till ultimately it became not only a complete and well-contested race, but a trial of strength, to determine which should drown the other. The only feeling short of ecstasy that came across us in these enraptured moments were caused by hearing the laugh and joke going on with our friends, as if no such thrilling strains had been flowing. But if Tim's eye chanced to fall on them, it instantly retreated upwards again in mild indignation. To his honour be it mentioned, he has left me a legacy of that inestimable Violin, provided that I outlive him. But not for a thousand such would I part with my old friend."--_Altrine Tales_.--_Hogg's Reminiscences of Former Days_.

THE FIDDLE TRADE.

"There is, for instance, Old Borax, whom those who want to know whereabouts to look for--within the shadow of St. Martin's Church.

"Borax makes but little demonstration of his wealth in the dingy hole that serves him for a shop, where a Double-Bass, a couple of Violoncellos, a Tenor or two hanging on the walls, and half-a-dozen Fiddles lying among a random collection of bows, bridges, coils of catgut, packets of purified resin, and tangled horsehair in skeins, serve for the insignia of his profession. But Borax never does business in his shop, which is a dusty desert from one week's end to another. His warehouse is a private sanctum on the first floor, where you will find him in his easy chair reading the morning paper, if he does not happen to be engaged with a client. Go to him for a Fiddle, or carry him a Fiddle for his opinion, and you will hardly fail to acknowledge that you stand in the presence of a first-rate judge. The truth is, that Fiddles of all nations, disguised and sophisticated as they may be to deceive common observers, are naked and self-confessed in his hands. Dust, dirt, varnish, and bees'-wax are thrown away upon him; he knows the work of every man, of note or of no note, whether English, French, Dutch, German, Spaniard, or Italian, who ever sent a Fiddle into the market, for the last two hundred years; and he will tell you who is the fabricator of your treasure, and the rank he holds in the Fiddle-making world, with the utmost readiness and urbanity--on payment of his fee of one guinea.

"Borax is the pink of politeness, though a bit of a martinet after an ancient and punctilious model. If you go to select a Fiddle from his stock, you may escape a lecture of a quarter of an hour by _calling_ it a Fiddle, and not a Violin, which is a word he detests, and is apt to excite his wrath. He is never in a hurry to sell, and will by no means allow you to conclude a bargain until he has put you in complete possession of the virtues, and failings, if it have any, of the instrument for which you are to pay a round sum. As his Fiddles lie packed in sarcophagi, like mummies in an Egyptian catacomb, your choice is not perplexed by any _embarras de richesses_; you see but one masterpiece at a time, and Borax will take care that you _do_ see that, and know all about it, before he shows you another. First unlocking the case, he draws the instrument tenderly from its bed, grasps it in the true critical style with the fingers and thumbs of both hands a little above the bridge, turning the scroll towards you. Now and then he twangs, with the thumb of his left hand, the third or fourth string, by way of emphasis to the observations which he feels bound to make--instinctively avoiding, however, that part of the strings subject to the action of the bow. Giving you the name of the maker, he proceeds to enlighten you on the peculiar characteristics of his work; then he will dilate upon the remarkable features of the specimen he holds in his hand--its build, its model, the closeness and regularity of the grain of the wood of which the belly was fashioned: the neatness, or, wanting that, the original style of the purfling--the exquisite mottling of the back, which is wrought, he tells you, 'by the cunning hand of nature in the primal growth of the tree'--_twang_. Then he will break out in placid exclamations of delight upon the gracefulness of the swell--_twang_--and the noble rise in the centre--_twang_--and make you pass your hand over it to convince yourself; after which, he carefully wipes it down with a silk handkerchief. This process superinduces another favourite theme of eulogium--namely, the unparalleled hue and tone (of colour) imparted by the old Italian varnish--a hue, he is sure to inform you, which it is impossible to imitate by any modern nostrums--_twang_. Then he reverts to the subject of a Fiddle's indispensables and fittings; discourses learnedly on the carving of scrolls, and the absurd substitution, by some of the German makers, of lions' heads in lieu of them; hinting, by the way, that said makers are asses, and that their instruments bray when they should speak--_twang_. Then touching briefly on the pegs, which he prefers unornamented, he will hang lingeringly upon the neck, pronounce authoritatively upon the right degree of elevation of the finger-board, and the effects of its due adjustment upon the vibration of the whole body-harmonic, and, consequently, upon the tone. Then, jumping over the bridge, he will animadvert on the tail-piece; after which, entering at the _f_-holes--not without a fervent encomium upon their graceful drawing and neatness of cut--_twang_--he will introduce you to the _arcanum mysterii_, the interior of the marvellous fabric--point out to you, as plainly as though you were gifted with clairvoyance, the position and adaptation of the various linings, the bearings of the bass-bar, that essential adjunct to quality of tone--_twang_--and the proper position of the sound-post. Lastly, he will show you, by means of a small hand-mirror throwing a gleam of light into its entrails, the identical autograph of the immortal maker--Albani, Guarneri, or Amati, as the case may happen--with the date printed in the lean old type and now scarcely visible through the dust of a couple of centuries, '_Amati_ Cremonae fecit 1645,' followed by a manuscript signature in faded ink, which you must take for granted.

"Borax has but one price; and if you do not choose to pay it, you must do without the article. The old fellow is a true believer, and is accounted the first judge in Europe; Fiddles travel to him from all parts of the Continent for his opinion, bringing their fees with them; and for every instrument he sells, it is likely he pronounces judgment upon a hundred. It is rumoured that the greatest masterpieces in being are in his possession.

"A dealer of a different stamp is Michael Schnapps, well known in the trade, and the profession too, as a ravenous Fiddle-ogre, who buys and sells everything that bears the Fiddle shape, from a Double-Bass to a dancing-master's pocketable Kit. His house is one vast warehouse, with Fiddles on the walls, Fiddles on the staircases, and Fiddles hanging like stalactites from the ceilings. To him the tyros resort when they first begin to scrape; he will set them up for ten shillings, and swop them up afterwards, step by step, to ten or twenty guineas, and to ten times that amount if they are rich enough and green enough to continue the experiment. Schnapps imports Fiddles in the rough, under the designation of toys, most of which are the production of his peasant-countrymen bordering on the Black Forest; and with these he supplies the English provinces and the London toy and stationers' shops. He is, further, a master of the Fiddle-making craft himself, and so consummate an adept in repairing that nothing short of consuming fire can defeat his art. When Pinker, of Norwich, had his Cremona smashed all to atoms in a railway collision, Schnapps rushed down to the scene of the accident, bought the lot of splintered fragments for a couple of pounds, and in a fortnight had restored the magnificent Stradivari to its original integrity, and cleared 150 guineas by its sale. But Schnapps is a humbug at bottom--an everlasting copyist and manufacturer of dead masters, Italian, German, and English. He has sold more Amatis in his time than Amati himself ever made. He knows the secret of the old varnish; he has hidden stores of old wood--planks of cherry-tree and mountain-ash centuries old, and worm-eaten sounding-boards of defunct Harpsichords, and reserves of the close-grained pine hoarded for ages. He has a miniature printing press, and a fount of the lean-faced, long-forgotten type, and a stock of the old ribbed paper torn from the fly-leaves of antique folios; and, of course, he has always on hand a collection of the most wonderful instruments at the most wonderful prices, for the professional man or the connoisseur.

"'You vant to py a Pfeedel,' says Schnapps. 'I sall sell you de pest--dat ish, de pest for the mowny. Vat you sall gif for him?'

"'Well, I can go as far as ten guineas,' says the customer.

"'Ten kinnis is good for von goot Pfeedel; bote besser is tventy, tirty, feefty kinnis, or von hunder, look you; bote ten kinnis is goot--you sall see.'

"Schnapps is all simplicity and candour in his dealings. The probability is, however, that his ten-guinea Fiddle would be fairly purchased at five, and that you might have been treated to the same article had you named thirty or forty guineas instead of ten.

"I once asked Schnapps if he knew wherein lay the excellence of the old Italian instruments.

"'Mein Gott!--if I don't, who de teifil does?'

"Then he went on to inform me that it did not lie in any peculiarity in the model, though there was something in that; nor in the wood of the back, though there was something in that; nor in the fine and regular grain of the pine which formed the belly, though there was something in that; nor in the position of the grain running precisely parallel with the strings, though there was something in that; nor in the sides, nor in the finger-board, nor in the linings, nor in the bridge, nor in the strings, nor in the waist, though there was something in all of them; nor yet in the putting together, though there was much in that.

"'Where does it lie, then, Mr. Schnapps?'

"'Ah, der henker! hang if I know.'

"'Has age much to do with it, think you?'

"'Not mosche. Dere is pad Pfeedels two hunder years ole as vell as goot vons; and dere is goot Pfeedels of pad models, vitch is made fery pad, and pad Pfeedels of de fery pest models, and peautiful made as you sall vish to see.'

"This is the sum total of the information to be got out of Schnapps on that mysterious subject. On other matters he can pronounce with greater exactness. He knows every Cremona in private or professional hands in the whole kingdom; and where the owner bought it, if he did buy it; and what he gave for it, or from whom he inherited it, if it came to him as heir-loom. Of those of them which have passed through his hands, he has got fac-similes taken in plaster, which serve as exemplars for his own manufactures. Upon the death of the owner of one of these rarities, Schnapps takes care to learn particulars; and if the effects of the deceased come under the hammer, he starts off to the sale, however distant, where, unless some of his metropolitan rivals in trade have likewise caught the scent, he has the bidding all his own way, and carries off the prize.

"The inundation of German Fiddles, which may be bought new for a few shillings, has swamped English makers of cheap instruments, of which there are by this time five times as many in the market as there is any occasion for. Hence it is that Fiddles meet us everywhere; they cumber the toy-shop; they house with the furniture dealer; they swarm by thousands in the pawnbrokers' stores, and block out the light from his windows; they hang on the tobacconists' walls; they are raffled at public-houses; and they form an item in every auctioneer's catalogue.

"Meanwhile the multiplication of rubbish only enhances the value of gold; and a Fiddle worthy of an applauding verdict from old Borax is more difficult of acquisition than ever. So I shall keep my Cremona."

THE PRINCE AND THE FUGAL VORTEX.

A Royal amateur and British Admiral, a lover of the Violin and patron of music, happened whilst at Malta to be leading Mozart's charming Quartet in G major--

The opening movement, together with the Minuet, Trio, and Andante having been rendered with pleasure and satisfaction, the Finale was entered upon with due determination.

Its fugal subject--

was well under way, and speedily in full sail. Ere long an evident indecision of purpose manifested itself, the motive or subject failing to elicit other than dubious answers to its calls; it was emphasised with loudness, not without signs of impatience, but to no purpose; all became hopelessly involved and incoherent, until at length, like the ice described by the "Ancient Mariner"--

"The _fugue_ was here, the _fugue_ was there, The _fugue_ was all around; It cracked and growled and roared and howled Like noises in a swound."

The second Violin, overcome by the surging counterpoint, ceased playing, and with the adroitness of a Raleigh turned to the Prince and said, "Pardon me, your Royal Highness, I fear we have been carried away by the vortex of the melody." The execution of chamber compositions belonging to the higher walks of counterpoint is frequently disappointing, but seldom or never is the failure so gracefully and agreeably accounted for.

SALE OF CREMONESE INSTRUMENTS AT MILAN, AT THE END OF THE LAST CENTURY.

(_Extracted from the "Gazetta di Firenze," 1790_.)

The following instruments were offered for sale at Milan, by Signor Francesco Albinoni, in March, 1790:--

1. Violin by Antonio and Girolamo Amati, Cremona 1616 2. " " Niccolo Amati . . . . . . . . . . . 1647 3. " " ditto . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1667 4. " " Andrea Guarneri . . . . . . . . . . 1657 5. " " Giuseppe Guarneri, figlio . . . . . 1705 6. " " Antonio Stradivari . . . . . . . . 1708 7. " " ditto . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1719 8. " " Giovanni Ruggeri . . . . . . . . . 1653 9. " " Francesco Ruggeri . . . . . . . . . 1670 10. Tenor by Antonio and Girolamo Amati . . . . . 1617 11. " " ditto ditto . . . . . . . . 1618 12. " " Francesco Ruggeri . . . . . . . . . 1619 13. Violoncello by Amati, Cremona . . . . . . . . 1622 14. " " Andrea Guarneri . . . . . . . 1692

The above announcement cannot fail to make one reflect on the different degree of interest excited by a sale of Cremonas a century ago and one at the present time. The sale conducted by Signor Albinoni, in 1790, at Milan, doubtless passed with but little, if any, display of enthusiasm, and were it now possible to learn the prices realised, they would certainly give occasion for surprise when compared with those now obtained. As regards the increased interest taken in rare Violins, the sale of the Gillott collection, in 1872, furnishes an instance of comparatively recent date. The announcement of Messrs. Christie and Manson served to bring together in King Street, St. James's, a legion of Violin votaries. So unusual was the excitement that the _Graphic_ had one of its pages occupied by an excellent representation of "Viewing the Violins." In Paris, in the year 1878, the sale of a Stradivari Violin, at the Hotel Drouot, gave rise to an unusual display of interest. The first bid was for ten thousand francs, and the Stradivari, dated 1709, was knocked down for the large sum of twenty-two thousand one hundred francs. When the biddings at the Hotel des Ventes had reached eighteen thousand francs, a casualty, which might have led to unpleasant results, lent additional zest to the proceedings. There was a great pressure among the crowd to obtain a sight of the Stradivari. Two or three of the more adventurous spirits clambered on to a table to gain a clear prospect of the precious Fiddle, causing the legs of the table to give way and the enthusiasts to be precipitated to the ground. A cry of terror--less for the fallen than for the Fiddle--arose from the throng; but soon the voice of the auctioneer was heard proclaiming, in reassuring accents, "Do not be alarmed, gentlemen; the Stradivari is safe!"

AN INDEFATIGABLE VIOLINIST.

"Puppo, the Violinist, being in Paris in 1793, was summoned before the Committee of Public Safety on suspicion, when the following interrogatories were put to him: 'Your name?' 'Puppo.' 'What were you doing during the time of the tyrant?' 'I played the Violin.' 'What do you do now?' 'I play the Violin.' 'And what will you do for the nation?' 'I will play the Violin.'"

A WISH.