Camilla: A Tale of a Violin

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!”