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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: —

“CAMILLA URSO HAS ARRIVED.”

They all stopped and gazed with feelings of wonder and awe, upon this remarkable sentence.

Oscar Comettant was the only one who could translate it and when he had done so they all repeated it over to themselves. As for Camilla she committed it to memory as the first sentence she had ever spoken in English. They returned to the Irving House remarking to themselves that America was truly a wonderful country. The intelligent natives appreciated music. They welcomed artists in a truly royal manner, and published their names in letters six feet high. While they were talking over the matter the American suddenly came in. He seemed greatly excited over something. Was the Mayor coming? Were the authorities coming to visit them? Should they dress for company?

Ah! No! Something had happened. He was very sorry – but – his partner – who supplied the money, etc. had – failed?

Failed! What did he mean! Failed?

No money?

No, not a dollar left!

They couldn’t believe it. Were they to give no concert? Was not Camilla going to play? Was the grand scheme a failure?

Yes. It was all over. Everything had failed.

The whole party was utterly stupified and hadn’t a word to say. What should they do? Where were they to go? The disaster was too great for comprehension. They hardly knew what to say much less what to do. The American could do nothing. He had not a dollar in the world.

CHAPTER VII.
“CAMILLA URSO HAS ARRIVED.”

What were they to do next? They could not speak a word of English and had not a dollar. They would gladly return to France could they manage the tickets. It was impossible. Something must be done. A concert or two must be given. Camilla would surely succeed if she had a hearing. The American must not desert them utterly. He might, at least, act as their business agent and assist them in giving a few concerts.

They could repeat the plan that they had tried with such success in Germany. Camilla might play before some of the wealthy families and then give a concert. It did not meet their expectations. The customs of the country were different, and though she visited Commodore Stevens, then living at Hoboken, and played for him, nothing came of it. He was greatly pleased with the child and on taking her to a jeweler’s bid her select such a ring as she fancied. A ring with a variety of stones, a sentiment ring, took her girlish eyes and she chose it in preference to a more costly one.

And that was all that came of it. Her visit did not lead to a concert and their fortunes seemed as desperate as ever. M. Urso went everywhere among his countrymen and told his story and endeavored to find a chance for Camilla to play. He could not give a concert on his own responsibility. Some artist must be found to bring Camilla out before the American public.

Fortunately, Madam Alboni was in New York about this time and through her kindness an opportunity was found for Camilla. Three concerts were arranged in which Camilla might make her bow before the American people. Child violinists were not unknown in New York. Paul Julian had played in the city and had attracted much attention. The announcement that a new child-artist – a girl and a violinist would appear only roused curiosity and people were eager to see how she compared with the boy Julian. They called her Camilla – Camilla Urso. Who was she? Where did she come from? No one seemed to know. Madam Alboni was to bring her out. The child must have some talent to be patronized by such an artist as Madam Alboni.

Only ten years of age. Certainly a marvelous child. And a girl. It must be a sight worth seeing. They would all go to the concert. In this shallow style did the people of New York talk. They looked upon her as some kind of natural wonder, or curiosity. That she might have an artist’s soul, that her playing might be something more than mere display did not seem to enter their comprehension.

In due time the concert came off and a slender, blue eyed girl hardly four feet high appeared and played a fantasia or themes from Somnambula. They had expected she would play fairly well, they looked for tolerable skill. What they did see and hear so far exceeded their expectations that they could not find words to express their admiration.

The steady position, the vigor and grace of her bowing, the strong, firm tone, and more than all the wonderful delicacy and lightness of her touch. The splendid technical ability, and her simple manners, the demure and serious eyes and the slight, girlish figure, these captured their hearts and won their respect.

The concert was a great success and Camilla in a single night established her reputation in the United States. This was her first real step in her artist life. She here laid the foundation of her reputation, a reputation that was first American and afterwards European.

The next morning the New York Herald gave her the first newspaper notice she ever received in this country.

“Little Camilla Urso, the wonderful child violinist, divided honors with the prima donna. Of the same age and country as Paul Julian, whose masterly performance on the violin attracted so much attention here, this new candidate for public favor promises to be a powerful competitor with him. Her execution of the fantasia or Somnambula was most admirable and drew down vociferous calls for an encore which were honored. Several bouquets were thrown to her on the stage and the greatest enthusiasm was manifested in respect to the marvelous little artist.”

Then some one suggested that they try Boston. That city was a musical centre and Camilla would be sure to meet with a good reception there. Accordingly under the guidance of the American the entire party went to Boston. Mr. Jonas Chickering, the piano-forte manufacturer kindly welcomed her and invited her to call at his residence on Boylston street, two doors from the building now occupied by the Art Club. So much pleased was he with her simple manners and her wonderful playing that he opened his elegant warerooms and invited a select company of musical people to hear her play. This private concert first brought Camilla before us. She had, as it were, come before us. Hitherto, it had been a strange story that had been told to us. We could now see and hear for ourselves.

The Boston Transcript and Dwight’s Journal of Music, then our best authorities upon art matters thus spoke of this occasion: —

“Her violin playing is not that of a child, – even a remarkable child – but that of an artiste cultivated and accomplished. Her bowing is extremely graceful and free, her execution neat and clear, her intonation perfect.”

Dwight’s Journal of Oct. 9th says: —

“Little Camilla Urso, the violinist, but eleven years old, announced a concert at the Masonic Temple for last evening, just too late for notice in this paper. But we had the pleasure, – and a choice one it was – of hearing her the other evening in a company of some forty invited guests, in Mr. Chickering’s saloon. Her playing is not only truly wonderful, but wonderfully true; – true in style, expression, feeling, as it is true in intonation and all mechanical respects. She played Artot’s Souvenirs de Bellini, and never have we listened to a long fantasia of several themes, worked up in all manner of variations, with a purer pleasure. It was masterly; the firm and graceful bowing, the rich, pure, refined tone, the light and shade, the easy control of arpeggio, staccato, double stops, etc., were all such as we could only have expected from the maturest masters we have heard. We could scarcely credit our own eyes and ears.

The little maiden is plain, with strong arms and hands enlarged by practice of her instrument; yet her appearance is most interesting; a face full of intellectual and sedate expression, a large forehead wearing the ’pale cast of thought’ etc. Pity only that such fine life must be lived out so fast, and always in the blaze of too much sun for plants so young and tender!”

Then followed two concerts at the Masonic Temple. Concerning her playing at these concerts we may quote from Dwight’s Journal of October 16th.

Camilla Urso. “Two concerts have confirmed all we have said of this wonderful girl violinist. Two concerts, attended by an intelligent, nay, an exacting, audience delighted almost to tears – and yet not money enough in the house to pay expenses! Indifference to flaming advertisements of precocity is well; but it is not well, not worthy of the taste of Boston thus to neglect one of the finest manifestations of genius that ever seemed to come to us so straight from heaven. It was one of the most beautiful, most touching experiences of our whole musical life, to see and hear that charming little maiden, so natural and childlike, so full of sentiment and thought, so selfpossessed and graceful in her whole bearing and in her every motion, handle her instrument there like a master, drawing forth tones of purest and most feeling quality; with an infallible truth of intonation, unattained by many an orchestra leader; reproducing perfectly, as if by the hearts own direct magnetic agency, an entire Concerto of Viotti or De Beriot, wooing forth the gentler melodies with a fine caressing delicacy and giving out strong passages in chords with ever thrilling grandeur.”

The first of these concerts was on the 8th and the second on the 12th of the month. Neither was successful and evil days again came upon them. The concert company broke up and each looked out for himself as best he could. As for Camilla she returned to New York with her father and aunt and they settled down in poor and miserable quarters in a house on Howard street – the Rue Lamartine of New York.

Her reception in Boston had not been a pleasant one. There seemed to be a prejudice against her. The good people could not quite forgive her for being a girl. It was well for Paul Julian – he was a boy. Camilla’s appearance disturbed their nice sense of propriety. This is only the more remarkable when we come to see that later in her life Boston became her second home. It was here that she afterwards laid the foundation for her reputation and here she won her greatest triumphs. Since, she has played in our city over two hundred times and here her greatest and latest artistic efforts have been made. Little did she think as she left the city that she should afterwards enter it twice under most peculiar circumstances and afterwards make it the home of her girlhood and sometimes her residence in womanhood.

Heaven helps those who try to help themselves. It was useless to cry or sit down in despair. Camilla at once resumed her practice under her father’s guidance. The violin was taken out again and the wretched alley-ways about Howard street reechoed with the strains of the marvelous instrument. By the hour the music floated out the dismal chamber window where the wonder-child toiled over the seemingly hopeless task. The thin, pale face bent over the music book all the day long. Practice, practice, practice. Life seemed made for that.

What was the good of it all? It had only brought them poverty and sorrow. Not for a moment did she pause. The art was reward enough without the money. She would wait.

It happened just at this time that Paul Julian, not in the most happy financial circumstances came to New York and for a week lived in the same humble boarding house with the Ursos. Camilla’s room was up stairs and Paul’s just under it. Both practiced incessantly, and Camilla’s father while attending to her lessons would often say: —

“Hear that boy! He loves to practice.”

Paul’s father in the room below would bid the boy stop and listen to the girl artist overhead and say: —

“Hear that girl! See how she loves to practice.”

When the lesson hour was over the two children met on the stairs or on the sidewalk for their brief play hour and would exchange notes concerning their two fathers.

“Was your father cross to-day?”

“Yes. Cross as a bear!”

“So was mine.”

Camilla did not remain in obscurity and poverty long. Archbishop Hughes heard of her and arranged a charity concert in which she was invited to appear. The concert was for the benefit of the Catholic Orphan Asylum and as Camilla had contributed largely to its success a share of the proceeds were given to her father. This fortunately saved them from immediate want and in a few days after a still greater piece of luck came to them. A letter came from Philadelphia inviting Camilla to play at a concert given by the Philharmonic society of that city. She at once went to Philadelphia in company with her father and aunt and there received one hundred and fifty dollars for a single performance on her violin. This was the largest sum she had ever received at one time and it seemed as if their day of small things was nearly over.

While they were in Philadelphia an agent of the Germania Musical Society of Boston visited them and invited Camilla to join the Society in a series of concerts that they proposed to give in the New England cities. A handsome salary was offered and they all three started once more for Boston.

They took rooms at the United States Hotel and prepared for a long stay. Camilla’s return and reappearance in our streets was not happy. They arrived on Saturday and the next day having nothing in particular to do Camilla took aunt Caroline’s hand and they went out for a little walk. The streets, so strangely quiet in their foreign eyes, seemed dull and they walked on thinking they might come to some garden or pleasure ground where the people would be listening to a band, drinking coffee and making merry in a proper manner.