CHAPTER XVI.
REPAIRING UNDERTAKEN BY PEOPLE IN BUSINESS NOT CONNECTED WITH THAT OF BOWED INSTRUMENTS—REMOVAL OF A FIXED SOUND POST—FITTING A FRESH PART OF WORM-EATEN RIB—BRINGING TOGETHER THE LOOSENED JOINT OF THE BACK WITHOUT OPENING THE VIOLIN.
We will now move down to the front portion of the premises again, where the chief has been pondering over some instruments with damages of different kinds and degrees. Some have been sent for repair, but have nothing apparently wrong about them. The little note sent with them is simply to the effect that "they do not go well" and the owners would like them put in order. A tap is given here and there with his knuckles, and this kind of test is sufficient in one instance to get an acknowledgment from the violin itself that its ribs do not adhere to the back as they should. Another betrays no looseness anywhere, and there is no fracture perceptible on a close examination; this is put aside so that it may be strung up properly, when it will probably give out some distinct evidence of internal wrong, if not of some external injury, which being fresh and clean is not easily affected by mere tapping.
In the midst of his meditations over the different possibilities, a gentleman enters accompanied by a young lady, probably his daughter, who carries a violin case. He enters upon his subject at once, saying:—"I have brought a violin for your inspection, it was left behind by a friend who went abroad some time back and he lately wrote over saying that my daughter might find it useful, as he had been told by his father that it was at one time an instrument with excellent sounding qualities. He is not a player and he kept it shut up for a long time and seemingly forgot all about it. We of course soon got the case from its hiding place, opened it and took the violin out. My daughter here found two strings had snapped and put on others. When she tried it with her bow, however, most unpleasant sounds came out. My daughter proposed that it should be taken to a shop in our neighbourhood where she gets her music; she says they are very nice people, and so she took it there and they told her 'it would be put in order by the next morning,' which of course seemed very prompt. My daughter has tried it since it came home, but it seems to have even less sound than before."
"Let me have a look at it, please," says our chief. The violin is at once taken out of the case by the young lady and handed to him. The chief looks over it, turns it about once or twice, and asks: "Did you put this into the hands of a repairer who professed any knowledge of violins?" The answer is—"Well, the people that my daughter took it to said they had intrusted the violin to their best pianoforte repairer, who had worked in one of the principal manufactories in London." The chief observes: "A piano is very different to a violin, sir; the repairer of one has to deal with curved surfaces, and wood of two kinds only, the other with flat ones and other woods and metals." "I hope the treatment has not ruined the instrument, can it be restored, will it be of much value?" says the gentleman. "Well, it is not of much value as a musical instrument in its present condition, but when properly restored would command a considerable price. The restoration will cost some pounds and be a fairly good investment."
"You had better do it and to your best ability," answers the gentleman, "and please send it home when done."
The two visitors make their departure and then James is called for a moment by his chief, "Hi! James, just look at this bit of repairing."
The assistant takes the violin in his hands, looks over it and laughs. "Not trained properly, sir, at mending; what a plaster it has got underneath the bridge! and there's a large one underneath the post too; there's strength there if nothing else."
"Well, James, we must get both of those out and put something in more to the purpose, the gentleman wants it done well and we must make it sound properly to please him and his daughter. From the manner in which those patches are inserted and their thickness—they are stouter than the tables themselves—there would be very little tone. Well I never! they've glued the sound post in."
This discovery caused a good laugh from both. "We must have the upper table off at once, James," continued the chief. "But how about the post, sir?" interposes his assistant; "it looks as if it will hold on tight." "Well, you must take a fine chisel and work it in two before you commence the opening."
James retires to his corner, and taking up a small chisel stuck in a short handle of his own fitting, he inserts it carefully through the right sound-hole, chipping the post gradually down one side, then turning the violin round on the cushion, he works away at the post through the other, and although from the extra distance from this, the chisel has a weaker hold, there is less substance to work through, the greater part having been worked away at the first attack.
The way is now clear for removing the upper table, which James does after some trouble in working his knife along between the edging and the upper part of the ribs, in consequence of the glueing having been done with a bountiful hand, and the parts pressed together tightly, so much so as to show very distinctly where the screw cramps had been wound up.
The exposed interior is brought before the gaze of the chief, who looks at it for a while, then remarks, "Very bad, but I have seen the like often before, and suppose will do so many times again.
"Give it a cleaning, James, they've fastened the plaster on to the dirty wood, and I expect the hold is very slight if at all in parts."
"No, sir, I tapped it about, and found some hollow spaces that would admit my small knife; the plaster had not been cut evenly, and then not pressed equally all over. The back seems about as bad, although it being thick does not need any support."
"No, James, the repairers, if we may give them such an honourable title, wanted to show that something had been done for the money charged. Give the interior a clean out with warm water and sponge, leave some wet rags over those plasters, and when the damp has soaked through, you can soon get your gouge underneath and pull them off, washing the surfaces afterwards."
This having been done as requested, the two parts are again brought before the chief, who forthwith takes a pair of calipers; these he applies carefully to both upper and lower tables in turn, moving them over in all directions. "I declare, James," he then observes, "there is no necessity for any patches or plasters anywhere; there is a very weak upper rib that has been so knocked about by several mendings, and spoilt inside and out, besides being riddled by insects, that we must make or fix a fresh piece in its place. Now, this fiddle being worth the trouble, you must see if you can make the repair so neat as to be almost invisible even when closely examined."
"Well, sir, I'll try at it," is the reply, this being a kind of repair that James will take much pleasure in, to show his dexterity of handling and clean cutting.
The first thing is to hunt among some pieces of old ribs for a part that will match well. This takes some time. At last an old rib is found that appears just the thing—a part of it only will be required.
The next requisite is a mould or piece of wood cut exactly to the curve of the inside of the rib; this must not be roughly done, or any idea of "near enough" being thought of; if it does not fit exactly, then the pressure to come against it will be unequal in parts. If cut from a little block of soft wood the cutting will not take long, and the trouble be amply repaid by the result.
An exterior mould will be as necessary as an interior, and if the original rib is of fairly equal substance, the two moulds may be tried one against the other, and should fit nicely.
The ragged openings and rotten part of the original rib having been carefully examined with regard to the size of the fresh piece to be inserted, a line is marked by soft chalk as to the position and extent to be covered by the fresh wood. The aperture to admit the fresh piece of rib must be determined upon exactly, and be cut with the utmost neatness. Before doing this, however, the question must be gone into, and settled definitely, as to whether the fresh piece is to be pressed on from the outside or from the inside.
The choice must be in favour of the more convenient, or that which will be most likely to lead to the best results. As the sides of the aperture taken longitudinally must be cut at an acute angle and not upright, the convenience of cutting the edges of the opening from the outside will be decidedly better and more handy for obtaining the desirable sharpness of edge.
As a matter of course, the piece must be tried on again and again until it is clearly a good fit all round. When in a satisfactory state it will, when tried finally, be elevated a trifle above the surrounding wood.
The angle at which the upper and lower portions fit has no need to be cut so acutely as at the ends.
Everything being ready, including some strong clean glue, this latter will require painting over the surfaces that are to be closed together until absorption has ceased, and not before this are the parts to be brought home, or the absorption or soaking into the wood will continue, leaving no glue for holding the two surfaces.
When quite ready, the interior block of wood or mould will be held in position by the hand.
As usual, the piece of paper on the face of the mould will be used for preventing the glue holding on to it. The piece of fresh rib is now placed in position, and the outer mould (faced with paper, of course), applied. The screw cramps are now affixed, tightly wound up, and left for drying.
After ascertaining that all the glued parts are perfectly dry and therefore hard, the cramps, moulds and paper may be removed. If any paper should be found adhering a moistened rag will easily remove it.
The next proceeding will be that of levelling down and removing any unevenness, on the outside especially. If the fitting has been very accurately effected there will not remain much to do in this line. For the inside a piece of glass-paper folded over a curved block of wood, or the actual mould that has been in use, will serve the purpose if not too large. This can be rubbed backward and forward till the surface is level. For the outside a slightly different treatment will be preferable, that is, a portion of glass-paper of the finest grain placed as before in front of a block of wood. There is no necessity for it being a very close fit so long as it is even in surface.
This should have some oil of a drying nature put on the surface, a little dabbed on with the tip of the finger will be enough.
A fine surface, after a little passing backward and forward over it, adding a little oil now and then, will be obtained.
The advantage of the use of oil is, firstly, the ease in use and the smoothness of the surface and absence of harshness, secondly, as it will have penetrated the wood to some extent it will prevent the varnish, that eventually will have to be applied, from sinking into the pores.
Many otherwise excellent repairs have been spoilt from the neglect of this simple precaution; without it, the glass-paper leaves a dry, finely torn or raw surface which absorbs very readily the coloured varnish that will, in sinking, look much more intense, uneven and totally unlike the surrounding old varnish, which, it is most desirable, should be as closely as possible imitated.
All these particulars, rules, and precautions, having been carefully attended to by James, the instrument is at last brought by him in as advanced a state as possible to his master, the latter always reserving to himself the final touches or finishing and regulating.
About this time another caller, an amateur in a state of great excitement, brings a violin case hurriedly in, and coming up to the chief without any ceremony, says, while undoing the buckle of the straps binding the leather covering: "Oh, my favourite violin is ruined, its back is broken, and I feel sure you can't do it up; it is a Venetian Montagnana that I have had so many years, and that you—yes, even you—admired. You don't say much as a rule in favour of anything I bring you, but you said this was the only good thing I had about me; it is past your power to put right again, I am afraid." "Then why did you bring it to me," says the chief, "if it is impossible for me to remedy the breakage? let me see it."
The case having been nervously opened by the owner, the violin, after a glance, is lifted out by the chief, the owner looking on in a state of great perturbation. "Please be very careful," he says, as the practised hand of the master turns it about, looks at it here and there, over one way and then the other. "Why, its back is not broken; where is the fracture?"—"Don't you see, all the way down, it is quite loose and open?"
Another turn round or so, and the chief exclaims, "Oh, you mean the joint of the back is open—that is not broken; I did not see it at first as the light was going in the same direction; we can put that right again for you."—"Here, James!" he calls out, "just look at this; is it past our mending?" James casts his eye over it for a second or two, and says, "No sir, I've done up that kind o' thing over and over again." Then, turning to the owner, "Two against one, you see."
The amateur looks at the instrument with great earnestness for a moment or two, then observes: "You will have, I suppose, to take it all to pieces to do that kind of repair, eh?"
"Oh no," replied the chief, "we shall close that up without undoing any part of it except taking the strings and sound-post away." At this moment he has inserted the post-setter and pushed the post a little, which proceeding causes the back to open wider, the mouth of the owner opening widely also, accompanied by an increase in the general appearance of anguish.
"There now," says the repairer, "just that little extra pressure from the sound-post enables us to see how far the opening extends; it is not all the way along, and there does not appear to be anything to prevent it coming together evenly again."
The chief now dexterously, with the point of the "setter," takes the sound-post out, the owner looking on with some amount of astonishment.
"You call in the day after to-morrow, sir, and I hope you will find it as right as ever."
These words have a cheering effect on the owner. "You are sure that will not be too soon," he observes. "Oh no," replies the other, "we shall put three or four studs along the centre, inside, and that will prevent it going again."
"But how," rejoins the owner, "are you going to put studs along the joint inside without opening the instrument?"—he was getting interested.
"Well, you leave that to us, sir, and we will tell you afterwards." This was said in consequence of a fear that the amateur would be using the time of the establishment, and as a result the amateur and owner walked away satisfied.