The Musical Myths and Facts (Vol. 1&2). Engel Carl
are entered in the catalogue of the sale as follows:—"A fine guitar in a case. A good dulcimer. Five instruments in the shape of fish. A curious ivory Kitt and bow in case. A good violin by Ditton. Another very good one. One said to be a Cremona. An extraordinary Rayman. Three others ditto. One very beautiful one by Claud Pieray of Paris, as good as a Cremona. One ditto. Another very good one. Another ditto. A very good one for a high violin. Another ditto. An excellent tenor. Another ditto by Mr. Lewis. A fine viol by Baker of Oxford. Another excellent one, bellied by Mr. Norman. Another, said to be the neatest and best that Jay ever made. A fine bass violin, new-neck'd and bellied by Mr. Norman. Another rare good one by Mr. Lewis. A good harpsichord by Philip Jones. A Rucker's virginal, thought to be the best in Europe. An organ of five stops, exactly consort pitch, fit for a room, and with some adornments may serve for any chapel, being a very good one."
The "five instruments in the shape of fish" were, probably, specimens of the machête, a small kind of guitar made in Portugal and Madeira, and occasionally brought to England as a curiosity. However, the pochette also was sometimes made in the shape of a fish. As regards the instrument-makers mentioned in Britton's list, suffice it to state that Jacob Rayman, who lived in Southwark about the year 1640, enjoyed a reputation especially as a maker of fine violas, and that Edward Lewis, who lived in London about the year 1700, was a distinguished violin-maker. Barak Norman in London, Henry Jay in Southwark, and John Baker in Oxford, were distinguished viol-makers of the seventeenth century.
Some fine collections made in the present century by English gentlemen consisted almost entirely of Italian violins, violas and violoncellos. It is but natural that the possessor of real or supposed works of art should feel particularly gratified when he finds them admired by persons whose judgment he has reason to esteem. Louis Spohr, in his 'Autobiography,' describes a visit which he paid to an enthusiastic musical dilettante and collector of violins, in London, in the year 1820. Spohr had come over from Germany to England to give concerts, and was unacquainted with the English language. He relates: "One morning a livery-servant brought me a note containing the words: 'Mr. Spohr is requested to call upon the undersigned to-day at four o'clock precisely.' As the name of the writer was unknown to me, I answered in the same laconic manner: 'I am engaged about that time, and cannot come.' On the following morning the servant in livery brought another note, much more politely written: 'Mr. Spohr is requested to favour the undersigned with the honour of a visit, and to fix himself the time when it will be convenient for him to come.' The servant had also been desired to offer me the use of his master's carriage, and as I had meanwhile ascertained that the gentleman was a celebrated physician who habitually frequented concerts, and who took special interest in violin performances, I no longer hesitated to accept his invitation. At the time fixed by me the carriage arrived, and I drove to his house. A courteous old man, with gray hair, met me already on the stairs; but now we discovered that we could not talk together, as he spoke neither French nor German. We stood for a moment embarrassed face to face, till he took me by the arm and led me into a large room, on the walls of which were hung a great number of violins. Other violins had been taken out of their cases and were placed on the tables. The Doctor gave me a violin-bow and pointed to the instruments. I now perceived that he desired to have my opinion as to the value of his fiddles. I, therefore, began at once to try one after the other, and to arrange them in a certain order, according to their merit. This was no easy task; for, there were so many, and the old gentleman brought all of them to me without missing one. When, after the lapse of an hour, I had selected the six most valuable ones, and was playing upon these alternately, to ascertain which was the best, I perceived that the Doctor cast upon one of them glances especially tender, and that whenever I touched the strings of this one with the bow his face quite brightened up. I, therefore, gladly afforded the good old man pleasure by declaring this instrument to be the most superior one of the whole collection. Highly delighted with this decision, he fetched a viola d'amore and extemporised a fantasia upon this instrument, which has long since gone out of use. I listened with pleasure, because the viola d'amore was at that time unknown to me, and the Doctor proved a by no means bad player. Thus ended the visit to our mutual satisfaction. When I took my hat to leave, the old gentleman, with a kind smile and a deep bow, slipped a five-pound note into my hand. Surprised, I looked at the money and at the giver, not understanding at first what he meant by it; 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 paper on the table, pressed the Doctor's hand, and descended the stairs. He followed me to the street-door. … Some months later, when I gave my benefit-concert, the Doctor procured a ticket, for which he sent me a ten-pound note."
One of the largest private collections of this kind, more recently formed by an English musical amateur, was sold in London by auction in the year 1872, after the death of its owner, Mr. Joseph Gillott of Birmingham. It contained above 150 instruments played with a bow. Among them were two viola da gambas, by Gaspar di Salo and Barak Norman; a viola d'amore, by Bertrand, Paris, 1614; violins, violas, and violoncellos assigned to Gaspar di Salo, Stradiuarius, Amati, Guarnerius, Testore, Guadagnini, Bergonzi, and other famous makers.
If, as occasionally happens, an amateur who considers himself a good judge of old violins is overreached by a dealer who professes to have but little knowledge on the subject, the transaction is simple enough. However, the purchaser of a "splendid Amati," or an "incomparable Stradiuarius," obtained by him at a bargain, might remember that the number of violins manufactured by the famous Cremona makers is limited, and that the history of the specimens still extant is almost as traceable as the pedigree of a prince or of a racehorse. As regards the various lutes, citherns, wind instruments with reeds, etc., which were popular during the last three centuries, many of them are now so scarce as to be unknown, even to professional musicians, except to a few with an archæological turn of mind.
It may easily be understood, that a reference to books alone does not ensure so thorough an acquaintance with the instruments as is obtainable from a careful examination of the actual specimens which are therein described. Should it interest the musician to restore to its original condition some dilapidated lute or cithern which he may happen to pick up, and to learn to play upon it according to the old method taught in some old book, he will become acquainted with niceties in the construction of the instrument, such as the peculiar arrangement of its pegs, frets, bridge, pins, and other contrivances, which are not to be learnt from books. Such knowledge of details gathered from practical experience, which at a first glance may appear unimportant, is often of great use, since it tends to throw light upon questions of more general interest relating to the history of music. Indeed, in a search after truth, every well-ascertained fact is of importance, since it serves as a solid step for progress.
Again, in playing on the lute, harpsichord, or other antiquated instrument the compositions written for it by our old masters, the performer is sure to discover certain charms in the music which cannot be expressed on any modern instrument, and which reveal faithfully the original conceptions of the composer. Take, for instance, Handel's 'Suites de Pièces,' conceived by him for the harpsichord, with its different stops and qualities of sound. In playing them on the pianoforte, the strictly musical beauties can be expressed, and these, it must be granted, constitute the greater charm of the compositions; but many additional beauties, calculated upon the characteristics of the harpsichord, are entirely lost. It does not, of course, therefore follow that musicians ought to learn the harpsichord, lute, or any other antiquated instrument, for which good music has been written. Enough, if these observations convince them that there have been charming musical instruments, as well as charming compositions, in former times, from which valuable hints may be derived for further progress in the inexhaustible art of music.
At all events, it appeared to me advisable to save from oblivion and decay any such antiquities as I happened to meet with, in England. When I began to form my collection, in the year 1868, scarcely any musician in London took interest in the matter; and it was perhaps this circumstance which enabled me soon to lay a good foundation for my collection by searches in the old curiosity shops in Wardour Street, and in similar places. Although the chief object was to obtain specimens of the various musical instruments used by our forefathers, which are alluded to by Shakespeare and other classical authors, it appeared to me desirable, as illustrative of the history of music, to incorporate into the collection the most interesting of the extra-European contrivances of the kind, and among these principally