Kitabı oku: «Camilla: A Tale of a Violin», sayfa 3

CHAPTER IV.
THE WOLF GROWLS

It was a busy life for Camilla. As the winter advanced her hours of study increased. More practice at home and more difficult lessons at the school. Studies from Rode, Baillot, Fiorillo, Viotti, Kreutzer, Sporha and the great masters of the violin, were taken up in turn. It was designed that she should become acquainted with all the master works of the day. In addition to regular studies in scales, finger exercises and the like, she went through all the works of the masters that she might become familiar with their style and learn to appreciate the best art. There were no trifling songs, no silly pieces designed to show how fast she could scrabble through a great many notes. Nothing of this kind allowed. Solid work, grand concertos, sonatas and solos passed under her hand in review and in an artistic atmosphere, she began to grow to the stature of an artist while only a child.

The boys in the class soon laid aside their rude manners and forgot their jealousy in admiration. Massart laughed at them and said: “Fie! Boys! The hen is beating the roosters.” Much truth was hidden in the master’s pleasantry. Camilla was rapidly distancing them all. She was the favorite scholar. She had the advantage of Massart’s private instruction three times a week and exhibited an aptitude for the work that advanced her quickly to the head of the class. This was an honor, for it must be remembered, that these boys had been selected as the cream of all the candidates. Each had displayed marked talent for the violin. Had it been otherwise they would not have been in the Conservatory.

All were like Camilla, quite poor. Some were even supported by pensions from their native towns, and nearly all of them afterwards became good players. There was Lacham, Leon Regniér, and Isidor Lotto who afterwards became so famous, and several others.

Henri Wieniawski was in the class before Camilla, but at the time was still about the school. They often met and there began a friendship that has continued to this day. Of Massart’s pupils, three, Camilla, Lotto and Wieniawski have become famous the world over and are among the great artists now living.

Besides her regular studies Massart advised Camilla to join a quartette in order to perfect herself in reading music at sight. Once a week she spent an hour or two in playing with three others at the Conservatory and in this way heard much fine music and accustomed her young eyes to read the notes quickly and taught her slender fingers to interpret the music at command.

Not all of her days were happy. Massart was dreadfully cross at times. He would detect the slightest flaw in the work. Once he marched a stupid boy out of the room by the ear and told him never to come back again. If she should be treated like that it would really break her heart. She would try her best to attend to all that was said and to do everything just right. Massart might storm and rage about the room, but it should not be from any neglect on her part. Altogether it was not a very lovely life. Try as hard as she could it did not always please, and some days it was really pretty tough for such a very small girl.

Another trouble came. Mother would bend over that dreadful embroidery all day long, and things did not seem so prosperous as in Nantes. Father was busy looking about for new rooms and almost before Camilla was aware of it they were ready for a change of residence.

They could not afford the rent of the rooms on the Rue St. Nicholas d’Antin, and they found cheaper quarters in a flat just under the roof in an old house on the Rue Lamartine, and up six flights of long, dark stairs.

It was a sad change from their comfortable home in sunny Nantes. There was nothing to be seen out of the windows save steep, red roofs, the sky, and sundry wild cats that roamed over the tiles. The streets thereabouts were narrow and crooked, with mean little sidewalks hardly wide enough for one.

It was not the Paris of to-day. The wide and handsome Rue de La Fayette that now passes near the Rue Lamartine and the beautiful Square Montholon with its trees and gardens was not in existence then. Camilla first knew Paris as a city of short, crowded streets lined with tall houses and cheap shops and crowded with work people and small householders.

They had only been settled in the new home a few weeks when a greater trouble came to them. The wolf began to growl in the echoing entry way of the tall house. They began to think he would climb the stairs or come in over the tiles and scare even the starved cats away.

The store of money they had brought from dear, old Nantes had melted away long ago. There was “little to earn and many to keep.” M. Urso tried and tried, but could get no permanent position at any of the theatres. There were scores of flute players in the city. As for organists, there were a dozen for every organ. Once in a while he had a chance to play for a single Sunday, as a substitute. Occasionally there was a party or other gathering where a few francs could be earned by playing.

Even mother had to help. At Nantes she had spent many a happy hour in fancy needle-work and embroidery. In Paris the work was followed for twelve hours a day that she might earn two francs and so help keep that terrible wolf from coming up the stairs. Aunt Caroline kept house and made the children’s clothing go as far as possible. All helped as well as they could. They must stay in Paris. Camilla must keep on at the Conservatory. There were two years more of study before her. She had put her hand to the plow and could not turn back. They must all stay and help her through.

The Winter passed away and the Spring came. Absorbed in her studies Camilla hardly noticed it except to observe that her thin clothing was more comfortable. It cost less to live in the Summer, and when in June her ninth birth-day came and she was eight years old, they became more hopeful. Perhaps they could pull through after all.

It was in vain. With the Summer came the dull times in business and their case grew more and more desperate. There was no wealthy friend near to help them. No grand Prince stood ready to pay the bills, after the fashion of the good Prince who helped the young Haydn on in his studies. They had not a single rich friend in the world.

Camilla might get on very well through the warm weather with her present suit. But, to study or practice she must have good food and plenty of it. She looked pale and pinched enough, poor child, and her dress was too small for comfort. Something must be done or they would all starve. They must take her away from the Conservatory or find more money.

In their distress they applied to Massart and the officers of the Conservatory. The master was very angry. “What! Go away for six months! Give concerts! It was a shame to lose so much time just when she was doing so well.”

No. If Camilla left the Conservatory she could not come back. That is what they said. And so it was all over and this was the wretched end of all their trying. It was hard to give up. What could they do? The Summer term was almost over. The summer vacation was at hand. Camilla might give a few concerts during the vacation. The money might help them along another winter and then they would be in want again. The vacation would not give them time to accomplish all they wished. They hoped by making an extended tour to earn enough money to support them a year or more.

It was the only thing to be done and after making proper representation to the authorities of the Conservatory permission was given. Camilla might be absent six months and then resume her place in the classes. This was a great concession. Only Camilla’s undoubted genius, her desire to study, and her poverty caused them to break over their rules in this matter. Massart too, gave his consent and said he would resume her instruction without charge when she returned.

Now she was to prove what she could do. It was a pity to interrupt her studies. Her education was not half finished and she must appear in public before she was really ready. If she succeeded now, how great would be her triumph when the three years at the Conservatory were finished.

It was impossible to break up the family, and the entire household prepared for the expedition. As they had no money they must move slowly and cautiously. Salvatore Urso would play the flute and accompany Camilla on the piano. Her mother could sing. That would make three performers, and with two pieces for each they could give quite a programme. To make a variety they should have one more singer. So they hired a gentleman to join their Company and sing buffo and other songs. Aunt Caroline would stay in Paris with the boys. When all was ready Camilla and her father and mother packed up and started off in search of fame and money. They must do something, and this seemed the most feasible plan.

The first journey was a short one and they landed at the town of Verdun. As soon as they were comfortably settled in lodgings Camilla and her father started out to present their letters of introduction. These letters were to wealthy amateurs who might be interested in the child and her playing.

The good people received them politely and after they had made a short call they were formally invited to call soon and spend the evening with a few musical friends. This was all that was wanted. If the ladies and gentlemen once heard Camilla play they would be pleased and perhaps they would take tickets to her concert. Things move slowly in France and several days, perhaps a week, would pass before the musical party would come off. In the mean time Camilla lost not an hour. From six to ten hours a day she went through her exercises and studied such pieces as she intended to perform in public. Her father was constantly with her, guiding her studies, overlooking her practice and aiding her in every way possible.

When the important evening came her long, brown hair was braided in two long braids and secured with bows of blue ribbon. With her new frock and simple manners, large blue eyes and thin, pale face she presented an interesting appearance. A little too quiet and sober for such a young girl. She seldom spoke, and was reserved and thoughtful. Her life had not been a very happy one. Had it not been for her intense love for music, had her heart not been bound up in her violin it would have been a sad, dull life, full of toil and wearisome labor. In after years, when the showers that fell so steadily during her younger days, cleared away, the bright, animated and merry side of her nature came out and the demure little girl became a vivacious and sparkling woman.

It was small wonder that the two or three hundred people who met to hear her play were delighted. She seemed so earnest, her large eyed intensity of expression, the bold and striking method of playing, the masterly sweep of her bow captivated and charmed them all. She gave such pieces from memory as she thought most pleasing and then after some little conversation about her music they asked if she would give a concert in Verdun. Yes, in a few days. Would they not take some tickets? Oh! with the greatest pleasure. They would all attend and bring their friends. Were the tickets ready? Yes. Her father had them. So they crowded round her father and bought some ten, some twenty, some fifty, and some a hundred. So most of the tickets were taken at once and success was secured in advance.

To American eyes this seems a strange fashion. The idea of playing at a private house and then selling the tickets strikes us as peculiar and perhaps unpleasant.

The Ursos did not think so. It was the custom of the country. It is the custom now. All the great players and singers have taken just such steps as this and it seems quite proper and so no one thinks ill of them.

Then she took her violin again. Felix Simon knew what he was about in Nantes. Massart’s instructions had not been thrown away. Camilla was an artist in little. If she had not the expression and feeling that comes with maturity, her playing was brilliant, strong and powerful. The tones were pure and steady and technical difficulties seemed to be of no consequence. She went through it all without effort and as easily and gracefully as can be imagined.

The audience was charmed with her simple manners and her wonderful playing. They fairly overwhelmed her with endearments and attentions. Was there any thing they could do to gratify such a dear little girl? One offered her one thing, another something else. She had a delightful lunch with her new friends and at last went home laden with bon bons and presents.

Then she must give a concert. They would ask all their friends and really it would be quite a grand affair. Of course all this took time. There was the permission of the Mayor to be obtained, and the hall to be engaged, the tickets to be prepared, and posters and advertisements to be sent out and tickets to be sold among the rich families of the town.

Her father must attend to it all. There was no one to help and he had to attend to everything.

In a few days the concert came off at one of the small halls in the town. There was “a good house,” as they say. Camilla played the violin while her father played the accompaniment on the piano. Her mother sang and the buffo singer gave some of his songs. The great attraction was the pale little one with the long braids. How she raced through the rapid passages and drew her wonderful bow with a great sweep that made the tones roll out full and grand. Then those strange, airy harmonies made by pressing one finger firmly on a string to give one note and then lightly touching the same string a fifth above so that the lower note was partially obscured by the note above it. Double stopping they call it. We know it as harmonics. With either name it is difficult enough for even a man’s hand. It was small wonder that the people cheered and cried bravo! bravo! and threw flowers on the stage and actually filled her arms with comfits and bon bons. Verdun was a great place for sugared sweets and candied fruits and they thought they were doing quite the proper thing by presenting some to her.

The next day they counted the money, paid all the few small bills and found that they had four hundred francs left. Really! Things were looking up. Their prospects were improving. Camilla was certainly a great success. Collecting such letters of introduction as they could obtain, they packed up and started for the next town on their programme. Where was the wolf now? Nobody knew. Camilla had driven him away with her violin.

CHAPTER V.
A GOOD FIGHT

Then a short journey to Bar le Duc. As soon as they were comfortably settled in the new place the whole ceremony was repeated. The good friends they had found at Verdun gave them letters of introduction to the best people and in about three weeks they had made their calls, played at some of the grand houses and given a concert with the same interesting result in the way of good, sound francs. How they treasured up the little Camilla’s winnings. Every franc must be saved and they lived as cheaply and simply as possible at all times. Every centime would be needed to carry Camilla through the two more years at the Conservatory.

Then to Metz and Strasburg and to the Rhine. It was to be a grand tour. The Germans must hear Camilla play. They were true lovers of music. If they were pleased it would be a great triumph and the concerts would be very successful. From Strasburg they went to Manheim, then up the Rhine to Bale in Switzerland. Then back again to Baden Baden, and to Heidelberg.

What a glorious time she had. There were rides and walks among the beautiful hills just as the grapes were ripe. Her spirits became more animated and childlike and her color returned. It was like some strange dream. Mother, too was happier, and as for father he had never been so gay and merry since they left Nantes. How that pile of francs had grown. From hundreds it had become thousands.

At Heidelberg she had a ride on the donkeys and visited the ruined castle high on the hill. It seemed a kind of continual picnic. It was no longer a weariness to practice. The weeks flew away so happily that they hardly noticed that the Fall was near. They must return to Paris soon. The vacation was over long ago. Still, the handsome pile of francs was not large enough yet, and they kept on to Calsrue and Homburg. Every where it was the same. Presents of every imaginable kind, flowers and jewelry were showered upon her. At one place they gave her more preserves and sugared fruits than she could eat in a month, and a German Countess at Manheim was so charmed with the child that she took off a beautiful pearl cross and chain and put it round Camilla’s neck. It was the cross the lady had when she was confirmed at Church and she valued it highly on that account. Camilla kept the beautiful present for a long time till it was lost in New York, as we shall see later in the story.

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.