Camilla: A Tale of a Violin

The tour was really not a very extensive one. A part of Eastern France and a part of the Rhine country was all she saw, but it took seven long months to get through with it. Were she to undertake the tour now it could be done in two weeks. They had no active agent traveling ahead to hire the halls and secure the rooms at the hotels. There were no advertising facilities, and no telegraphs. M. Urso had to do everything himself. The ceremonious calls upon the great families took a great deal of time. The subscription list and the sale of tickets could not be started till they were fairly settled in the town. Three weeks in one city was hardly enough time to prepare for one concert and during it all Camilla’s practice could not be neglected for a single day. Her father was always present watching and guiding her, and, in fact keeping her steadily to her work.

To off-set all this, it cost them very little to live, and their concert expenses were light. The rent of the halls was low, and they had very few advertising bills to pay. This made it easy to make the tour profitable, and when at last they returned to Paris they found they had 5,000 francs on hand, more money than they had ever dreamed about in sleepy old Nantes. This represented Camilla’s first earnings. Aunt Caroline had received part of the money to help along the little home in the Rue Lamartine and when they came back she stood ready to welcome them at the top of the six flights of stairs. The cats were all there on the red roofs, but that wolf had run away in dismay. It is thought he did not appreciate music. Camilla was sure he did not like her style of bowing.

The very next day after the journey was over Camilla returned to the little room in the corner of the Conservatory and took her place by the window that looked out into the court-yard where the school bell hung in its tower, where she could see fat and rosy Massart tramp up and down the floor and scold the boys in his dear, cross old fashion. That stick flourished about as lively as ever. Her own fingers and limbs felt it once in a while when she became careless. It was not often now. She would be nine next Spring. She was getting to be a big girl and knew too much to be caught napping by Massart. The “German Tour” as she proudly called it had sharpened her wits and made her even more attentive and careful. She took up her studies in solfeggio and harmony and settled down into the routine of hard, persistent study with renewed vigor. Those boys were far ahead of her. Never mind. She would catch them presently.

When we see Madam Urso play to-day we think her steadiness of posture and grace of playing very easy. None can count the days, months and years of trial and labor she spent to attain such skill and grace. In playing it may be noticed that she stands very firm and erect on her left foot, with the right slightly advanced in front. Even so simple a matter as this cost weeks of painful effort and many a bitter tear. They put her right foot into a china saucer in such a way that the slightest weight upon it would crush it. She broke several before she fully acquired the proper position. It cost tears and china ware, at first. Now it is as nothing.

The playing appears to be easy enough to spectators. Her fingers fly over the strings with unerring certainty. It seems as if it would be impossible to go wrong. We look on the strings to see if there are finger prints, or other marks to show where the strings should be touched. There is nothing. On the piano each key is plainly marked out. Knowing the notes and the keys we may in time touch them with absolute certainty. On the violin, the fingers must find the right place without assistance. The notes must be found, as it were, in the dark. Only by learning just how far to stretch the fingers and by the employment of years and years of practice can any degree of skill be obtained.

In spite of all this, here was our nine year old Camilla getting ready to compete for the prizes at the end of her second year. It was not to be a mere concert where each pupil was to come out and play such pieces as they liked before a mixed audience. There was a long difficult concerto, to be learned, and each was to play the same piece before the severe and critical jury, and before such musicians and others as chose to attend. It was held in the theatre attached to the Conservatory. Besides that, there were three difficult questions to answer in harmony, and a piece of music written in a most extraordinary manner was to be sung at first sight.

In this country we now write vocal music in two clefs, known as the bass and treble clefs. This makes it easy to read and any singer after having mastered them both can get along without much difficulty. Some of the more lazy ones think it hard to sing in even one and are quite upset if they try to sing in any, save their own. What would the poor alto who “didn’t know anything about the bass clefs” think of singing at first sight in seven different clefs. Camilla’s trial piece at the examination in solfeggio was a song that began in one clef, went a few bars and then jumped into another, then into another and back again, then another and so on in a manner perfectly bewildering and distracting. She had never seen it before and went through it without missing a note. The result was that she carried off the first diploma, and the jury and audience were greatly pleased.

Then they placed a large basket before her in which were hundreds of bits of folded paper. She was to take out three, open them, read them aloud and give a verbal answer to each. The first question was something about the relative minor of a certain major key and its signature. That was easy enough and she answered at once without hesitation. The next question nearly took her breath away. It was some deep and perplexing thing about the construction of a chord. Many a music teacher would be puzzled to answer it. She thought some wicked person had put it in the basket just to annoy her. Nobody could answer such a tremendously hard question. She paused perplexed. It would not do to fail, and calling up her sturdy will she compelled herself to think it out. In a moment a bright gleam passed over her face and she began to answer the question slowly. Feeling more confident, she went on explaining the matter, and suddenly went wrong. She caught herself at once and in a flash corrected it and gave the right answer.

This was against the rules. No pupil was allowed to correct himself. He must have it right the first time. She was greatly frightened, and thought she had made a failure. She was so earnest and anxious over it, and moreover she was a girl, the first girl on the violin ever admitted to the Conservatory, and with a smile and a word of encouragement the jury forgave her and accepted her answer. The third question was quickly answered and the great trial was successfully finished. This trial of skill, or examination as we should call it, lasted several days. One day she was examined in harmony. The singing came another day, the violin concerto another, and the playing at sight in a string quartette on still another. The poor girl was quite worn out and thankful that the summer vacation came soon after. At our Conservatories and music schools the pupils take the vacation as a time of rest and enjoyment. They say it is too hot to work. It is quite as warm in Paris, and Camilla was as weary as ever they could be at such a time. Still she rose with the sun, practiced all the forenoon with her father, went to Massart’s house three times a week, and with the exception of the hours spent at the Conservatory, her time passed exactly as if there was no vacation at all. Work, work, work, all the time. Just enough exercise to keep her in good health. Only a little play, now and then. Hours and hours of practice day after day. Such was her life. A great and splendid reward was in view. By and by she would win every thing. When her day of success came she could rest and enjoy herself. Could she? Did she ever rest? We shall see.

CHAPTER VI.

THE ROSE OF MONTHOLON

The last year at the Conservatory was drawing to an end. It was early summer and Camilla was just ten years old. The long and difficult course of study that many a boy was proud to finish when he was nineteen, was almost over before she had entered her teens. She was paler and thinner than ever and felt glad the warm weather had come, for really, her frock was not thick enough for comfort. That terrible wolf had again howled in the dark echoing entry way of the house on the Rue Lamartine. The goodly pile of francs she had won on the German tour had melted wholly away. Mother had taken up that dreary embroidery again. There were four boys to be clothed and fed now, and Salvatore Urso found it hard work to get along.

Camilla absorbed in her music hardly knew how serious the case had become. Many a time she came home from her lessons to find that the family had been to dinner, and that something nice and warm had been saved for her. They said they had dined, but in truth they had only eaten a cheap lunch of fried potatoes or something a few sous would buy that Camilla might have a better dinner. She must be maintained in good health, and no sacrifice on their part was too great. When they had but little they took the best for her and concealed from her their own scanty meals. She was an exceedingly affectionate child and would have shared her best with her mother had she known what they silently suffered for her sake.

Her father was constantly with her when she practiced. Many an hour he stood by her side and held her left arm to help sustain the weight of her weary violin. At times he let her sit on a stool though the good student always stands with the violin. She was a growing girl and something of the rules must be relaxed. At the same time her father was a strict master and never suffered her to slight or neglect her practice. During the three years at the Conservatory he never was absent while she practiced though it averaged ten hours a day during the last year. During it all Camilla never once refused to go to her lessons and in company with her aunt or father daily walked to the Conservatory and to Massart’s house.

Could they go on much longer? Their case was getting positively desperate. They had nearly struggled through the three years. It was almost over and Camilla was well nigh ready to try her fortune in the world. She must play before some of the wealthy amateur musicians and show her talents. No money would come of it but it might serve as an introduction to public life and bring her into notice so that when she did leave the Conservatory she would not be wholly unknown.

One day there came an invitation to spend the evening at some private house and she prepared to go. She had passably good clothing and was, as far as appearance was concerned, ready to go. Then came a dreadful discovery. The wolf was at the door. He had come up the stairs and was scratching and snarling at the threshold. What were they to do? There was not a thing to eat in the house. The very last franc had been spent. There was nothing left but that pearl cross the Countess had given her at Manheim. They might sell it. No they could not and would not. They would go supperless to bed first. But Camilla, poor child, was going out. Perhaps she would have a supper at the friend’s house where she was to play. And perhaps not. Besides, she had eaten nothing since morning. She might faint before the supper hour came. She could not give it up and go to bed as her brothers had done. In their perplexity and trouble Aunt Caroline came with the joyful news that she had found a sou in an old coat pocket. Only a sou – a copper cent. Camilla dressed hastily, and with her father set out for the private concert where she was to play. As they walked through the streets they stopped at one of the little cooking stands that are so common in Paris. With the one cent they bought a paper bag holding perhaps a pint of fried potatoes. M. Urso carried the violin and Camilla took the bag and ate her supper as she passed along. Franklin’s breakfast of rolls in the streets of Philadelphia was a royal feast beside Camilla’s supper. Using her handkerchief for a napkin she finished the meal and throwing the paper bag away entered the grand mansion as the honored little guest and artist. As for her father he had no supper at all.

It is always darkest just before dawn. They struggled through a few more days of bitter poverty and then came a sudden burst of wealth and good fortune that fairly took their breath away. It seemed as if a shower of gold actually rained down upon them and a new and most remarkable experience came in the history of the Urso family.

The last term at the Conservatory was nearly finished. She must give her whole energies to her studies. The Directors had given out the piece of music that was to be played by the pupils at the examination in July and she must go to work upon it. Eight weeks was little enough time to give to such a piece of music. It was the 24th Concerto in B Minor for violin by Viotti. Besides being a work of great difficulty it began with one short note followed by a longer one. They must all get that place right, if nothing else. The jury would not forgive them if they slighted the first note in the piece. How they did try over that one passage. The two notes echoed from every room in the Conservatory all day long. The boys tried it over at every spare moment and it did seem to Camilla as if those were the only notes in the piece. For herself she practiced it carefully and very slowly, feeling sure it was better to trust to her own coolness and steadiness at the trial than to go over it so many times as to become too confident.

About a year before this a man, who said he came from America, had appeared at the Conservatory to see Massart in relation to some music lessons he wished given to his sons. For convenience we will call this man the American. He is now dead and as his share in this story is not the most happy this title may take the place of his real name. His two sons played the violin and the father wished them placed under Massart’s instruction. Camilla came in during the interview and quietly waited till it was over. The two boys played for the master and Camilla sat near by in silence. Then Massart asked her to play. She did so and the American was so much pleased that he asked her name and residence. A day or two after that he called upon Camilla’s father and proposed to him that Camilla should visit the United States as soon as her lessons were finished at the Conservatory. He thought she would attract great attention there and offered to take her to America on a concert tour. This was all very fine but Camilla could not go now and so the matter was dropped. When the term was over there would be time enough to talk about it. So the American went away and the Ursos thought no more about it.

Suddenly in the Summer of the last year and just before the term was finished he reappeared and repeated his offer to take Camilla to America. She was to go with him for three years and was to play at concerts in all the principal cities of the country.

In consideration of which he would pay M. Urso the sum of thirty thousand francs the first year, sixty thousand francs the second year and one hundred thousand francs the third year. Traveling and hotel expenses for three people were to be paid and altogether it was a flattering offer.

Thirty thousand francs in one year! It was too wonderful! They had never dreamed of so much money! Sixty thousand francs! A hundred thousand francs! Such sums were too vast to be taken in at one sitting. They must consider the matter. After much discussion it was at last arranged that when her lessons at the Conservatory were finished Camilla and her father should start for America.

During the last Spring in Paris they changed their residence and moved into more cheerful and comfortable rooms on the Rue Montholon, a street that makes a continuation of the Rue Lamartine. Here they had front rooms in the attic and in the sixth story. There was a broad balcony at the foot of the steep mansard roof and here Camilla’s mother arranged a pretty row of plants in pots so that the iron railing in front was half hid by flowers. Poor as they were they always managed to have it as bright and pretty about them as possible. With all their poverty they always contrived to look neat and pleasant. M. Urso arranged a temporary shed on the balcony for a kitchen and here in the bright sunshine high up in the air above the noisy street Camilla used to watch the birds and the clouds and peep through the geranium leaves down into the street so far below. This change of scene was a great advantage to her. It brightened her spirits and gave her thin cheeks a bit of color. As she went through the streets with her violin, and gay in a new chip hat and blue ribbon the people turned to look at the demure eyes and the half smiling mouth and said: “She is the Rose of Montholon.”

The Rose could not be suffered to bloom alone in the alley-ways and lanes of the old city and invitations to play at the houses of some the grand families came in. One of these was to the residence of Madam Armengo and another was the residence of Napoleon then known as the Prince President. At Madam Armengo’s Camilla attracted great attention and won many friends. Her playing was a surprise to all and the company could hardly find words to express their pleasure and admiration.

Then came an invitation from the Prince President to take part at a grand concert at the Palace de Elysée before the Prince and the great dignitaries of the court. There were Generals and Marshals, Princesses and grand Court ladies, artists and gentlemen with decorations and many other notables. A place on the programme was assigned to the little Rose of Montholon and in her usual simple and natural manner she played her best before the honorable company. They paid her the best of attention and she quickly captured all their hearts by her childish manners and wonderful playing. They had never heard any such playing from one so young and they crowded around her to thank her and congratulate her upon her skill.

The Prince Napoleon came and spoke to her, praised her music and asked what she intended to do next. Go to America. Ah! No. That was not right. Such talent as hers must not leave France. M. Urso replied that the contract had already been signed with the American and they must go with him.

“Puisqu ’il en est ainsi, dépéchez vous à aller gagner de l’argent, et revenez vite en France. A votre retour ne manquez pas de venir me voir.”

These were the very words of the Prince in reply. They thanked him heartily and then the party broke up and they went back to their home on the Rue Montholon.

Then came the final examination at the Conservatory. It did not differ materially from the one described before except that it was much more difficult. The questions in harmony were more searching. The piece of music to be sung at first sight was more perplexing than ever before and the new quartette for strings in which she was to take the first violin far exceeded the others in technical difficulties. Each day of the trial was a triumph for her. She received the first prize and never were a family more pleased with the success of a child. It was a great day for the Ursos and it seemed as if all their labor and sacrifice was to be splendidly rewarded. Camilla had never faultered through it all, and now that it was over the three years of study seemed as nothing. It had been a hard struggle but she did not care. It was happily over and soon she would go to America and gratify her father by winning a great store of money. Then she would return to Paris and to dear old Massart. In spite of his severe discipline he was a good man at heart and she loved him dearly. She owed everything to him and she could never half pay him for his generosity in helping her in her days of poverty. He was very unwilling to part with his favorite pupil and wanted her to stay in Paris and continue her lessons. It would cost her nothing. He would be only too glad to teach her. It could not be. She must fulfill her contract with the American.

America. Where was it? So far, so far away. Would she ever come back from such a distant country? It seemed in those days a very serious undertaking and their friends could hardly believe them when they said they were going to New York.

The Director Auber was also very sorry to part with her and kindly wrote a letter of introduction for her. The following is a copy: —

Paris, August 12th, 1852.

“Mademoiselle Camilla Urso is a young pupil of the National Conservatory of Music. Although still at a very tender age, she has obtained brilliant success at several concerts in Paris, and above all at the Conservatory, where the jury have decreed to her by election the first prize at the competition for the prizes of the year.

“Learning that she is soon to depart for the United States, I am delighted to state the happy qualities which ought to ensure a noble artistic career.

“The Americans have already nobly proved that they are not only just appreciators of the fine arts, especially of music, but that they know as well how to recompense with generosity the merits of the celebrated artists who are heard in the hospitable towns of their rich and beautiful country.”

AUBER.Member of the Institute and Director of the Conservatory.”

Finally everything was arranged. Aunt Caroline was to go with Camilla while her mother was to remain in Paris with the boys. The three years would soon be over and then they would all be reunited and could live happily together once more.

The American was liberal in everything. He supplied them with money for their outfit, and it really seemed as if their days of trial and poverty were at an end. There was nothing to do, but to accept and enjoy the great reward that had crowned their exertions.

The new dresses, the parting with dear old Massart and the anticipation of the voyage absorbed Camilla’s thoughts, and the sailing day arrived almost too soon. The trunks were packed and the carriage came to the door. It was a sad parting for fond mother and affectionate little girl. She cried bitterly and would hardly consent to leave her mother’s arms. As the carriage drove away she looked back up at the lofty balcony where the geraniums put their red eyes through the railing and watched her mother’s handkerchief fluttering so high in the air till a turn in the crooked street shut her dear home from view. Two weeks later, on the 15th of September, a little girl, her father and aunt and a violin landed from the Steamship Humboldt in New York and a new life began for Camilla.

It was like a dream. They couldn’t believe it, nor understand it. It seemed as if they lived in a palace. They had three parlors furnished in the most costly and elegant style. There were yellow satin chairs in one room and blue in the next. Obsequious servants waited upon their every want. Camilla’s room looked out on Broadway and the view from the window afforded her unending amusement She hardly dared to sit in the satin chairs. They were almost too fine for use. Such splendor and luxury was really oppressive. And the people! What a strange language they spoke. She was sure she could never understand it. She listened and tried and only succeeded in pronouncing the name of the hotel which she gave as the “Ir-ving House.”

The first few days they gave themselves up to sight seeing. The American called frequently and said that the first concert would come off very soon. He had advertised it extensively and the whole troupe must prepare for the great event. In the meantime they must be prepared to receive company, for the authorities would soon call upon them. This they thought would be quite proper and they felt sure they would receive the dignitaries of the city with becoming respect.

In order to give a proper variety to Camilla’s concerts other talent had been engaged. Oscar Comettant and his wife had been invited by the American to join the troupe. He was to assist as accompanist and his wife was to sing. There was also a M. Fetlinger a buffo singer. This enabled them to present with Camilla’s assistance the best of programmes.

While they were thus waiting at the Irving House for their first concert, the whole party M. and Madam Comettant, M. Urso, Camilla, and Aunt Caroline all went out to walk one bright sunny morning. As they strolled through the streets they suddenly came to a dead wall where in gorgeous letters six feet high was printed the startling announcement: —