Camilla: A Tale of a Violin. C.J. Barnard
laughed and cheered again. The wreath was too big, or she was too small, and it slipped over her head and shoulders, and fell to the floor, and there she stood in the middle of it.
Some enthusiastic ladies presented her with a tiny ring for her finger, and a handsome bracelet; and more wonderful than all, they brought out a magnificent Paris doll, in a big white box, and set her quite wild with joy by presenting it to her. With the doll under one arm, and her precious violin under the other, she bowed her thanks from the middle of the wreath. Then they cheered again, and laughed, and offered her flowers. She was taken down from the platform and led away, but they had her back again three times, doll, violin, and all. Altogether, it was a very remarkable experience for father, mother, teacher, and wonderful little girl.
Perhaps you think this overdrawn. This is a true story. Here is an extract from one of the newspapers of Nantes, that only says the same thing:
– “Never had violinist a pose more exact, firmer, and, at the same time, perfectly easy; never was bow guided with greater precision, than by this little Urso, whose delivery made all the mothers smile. Listen, now, to the Air Variee of the celebrated Beriot; under these fingers, which are yet often busied with dressing a doll, the instrument gives out a purity and sweetness of tone, with an expression most remarkable. Every light and shade is observed, and all the intentions of the composer faithfully rendered. Here comes more energetic passages, the feeble child will find strength necessary, and the voice of the instrument assumes a fullness of tone which one could not look for in the diminutive violin. Effects of double stopping, staccato, rapid arpeggios – everything is executed with the same precision, the same purity, the same grace. Repeatedly interrupted by applause and acclamations, she was saluted at the end by salvos of bravos and a shower of bouquets.”
As for the anti-Urso party, they were completely demoralized and had not a word to say. Camilla was a success, and they gracefully retired from the field.
CHAPTER III.
THE DAY BEGINS
The next morning Camilla trotted off to Felix Simon’s just as if nothing had happened. The Ursos were too sensible to be upset by vanity. The triumph of their child only caused them to soberly consider what was to be done next. Camilla must lose no time. The lessons must go on precisely as before and until matters were properly arranged her life would be unchanged. She must prepare for more difficult tasks. Having proved her skill she must now improve it. Greater tests and severer trials were in store for her. She must go to Paris. She must enter the Conservatory of Music. But how, and when?
Long and earnestly they talked over the matter and laid their plans as best they could. M. Urso was a fine flute player. Of course, he could readily obtain a place in some theatre in Paris. Camilla’s mother was a charming singer and a good teacher. She could give lessons, and perhaps sing in some church. Oh! and then there was the organ! Certainly so fine an organist as M. Urso would soon get a good place with a comfortable salary. Aunt Caroline must go too. She would keep house and help the children. None of them had ever been to Paris, but the prospect seemed brilliant and for Camilla’s sake they ought to go as soon as possible. Having decided to move they sold all their furniture, collected whatever was due for music lessons and salaries and prepared for the flitting.
Camilla, her father and aunt Caroline were to go first. The baby brother was too young to bear the journey, and when they were comfortably settled in Paris, mother could follow them. The journey was a slow one. It was mid-summer, and on the road came the news that the cholera was raging in Paris. It would not do to enter the city till cooler weather came. So they tarried at Tours for six weeks till the sickness abated.
The Conservatory of Music stood at the corner of the Rue Faubourg – Poissonière and the Rue Bergère in the old part of the city of Paris. They must take rooms as near it as possible so that Camilla would not have too far to walk on stormy days. With all their hopeful prospects and though they had quite a large sum of ready money in hand they took simple quarters in a house on the Rue St. Nicholas d’Antin.
As soon as they were comfortably settled Salvatore Urso went to the conservatory to ask if the little Camilla might be admitted as a pupil.
The Director, Auber, received him politely and asked what he wanted. “Could Camilla enter the Conservatory?” The little shrivelled up gentleman opened his small eyes as wide as he could and said, in a squeaking voice, “Camilla! That’s a girl!” Yes. Camilla was a girl. How very shocking in her. Why was she not a boy? A girl. Oh! No it couldn’t be considered for a moment. A girl enter the great Conservatory of Music! Such a thing had never been heard of in the whole history of the world. The Conservatory was not for girls and they couldn’t be admitted.
This was discouraging and M. Urso retired from the interview not knowing what to do next. The idea that the great composer Auber would utterly refuse to take the child had never entered his head. Of course, with her undoubted genius the Conservatory would be proud to teach her. What difference did it make if she did happen to be a girl?
It made a great deal of difference to the worthy officers of the Conservatory. Not one of them would consider her case. The Secretary, De Beauchesne was applied to with more success, but he was only one of the officers and he could do nothing alone. He heard Camilla play and did everything he could for her. He visited the family and was in every way a friend. When Camilla’s third brother, Salvatore, was born, he stood Godfather to the child, so we may infer that he was quite intimate at the Ursos’.
It would not do to give it up so. Day after day slipped past, the time grew to weeks and still the doors of the Conservatory were fast closed against the child. M. Urso called on Auber several times. Would he not interest himself in the child? Would he only hear her play? No. It was useless. She was a girl. She could not enter. Why had M. Urso been so foolish as to come to Paris when he might have known that they never took in girls. Besides, she was not old enough. Not even a boy could enter under ten.
People of influence were consulted, and in vain. If the Directors of the Conservatory would not take the child it was no affair of theirs. They could do nothing about it. It did seem as if everything was against her and she began to realize what a very unhappy thing it is to be a girl. Still, she would not despair nor relax one effort to obtain her darling wish. She would keep on studying just the same and all through the weary weeks of waiting she practiced and studied as best she could under her father’s instruction.
The Winter passed away and the Spring came. It brought very little hope with it. Camilla could not enter the Conservatory. There were only nine places and there were seventy-six applicants and every one of them boys. When they grew up they could play in the theatres. That was the aim of their lives. The Conservatory was opened to teach them, to prepare them for this very work. Camilla would not play in an orchestra and, of course, she would be of no use to the country and it was idle to admit her to the classes.
Persistence finally carried the day. M. Urso fairly worried the learned officers of the Conservatory into a consent. The irritable little Director, Auber, lost his temper and said “Well, bring the girl. She is sure to fail. We will hear her play, but she cannot enter.”
The Ursos were greatly pleased with this concession. If they would hear Camilla just once it would be enough. They could hardly refuse to take a child of her great talents even if she did have the misfortune to be a girl.
At last the eventful day arrived. The seventy-six boys and the one girl were to be examined. Her case was quite hopeless, they said. She might play like an angel and it would avail nothing. The boys would have the places.
She never lost her courage, but with that quiet, serious manner that only served to hide her sturdy character, she took her father’s hand and soberly trotted through the streets without a fear. She knew what she could do, she had her piece by heart; she meant to break into that Conservatory, it was her only hope and she would try hard to do her very, very best.
M. Urso was excited and nervous. How would it all end? Would Camilla be admitted. It was doubtful, still, her genius might win the day in spite of the determined opposition that was raised against her. As for Camilla she clung to her violin in stubborn silence, and patiently waited for the great trial. All the candidates met in one room, the seventy-six boys and their friends and the one girl with her father.
All