The introduction of Italian instruments into Great Britain was a matter of slow growth, and did not assume any proportions worthy of notice until the commencement of the present century, when London and Paris became the chief marts from whence the rare works of the old Italians were distributed over Europe. By this time the taste of the Fiddle world had undergone a considerable change. The instruments in use among the dilettanti in France and England had hitherto been those built on the German model of the school of Jacob Stainer. The great German maker was copied with but little intermission for upwards of a century, dating from about 1700 to 1800, a period of such considerable extent as to evidence the popularity of the model. Among the Germans who were following in the footsteps of Stainer were the family of Kloz, Widhalm, Statelmann, and others of less repute. In England there was quite an army of Stainer-worshippers. There were Peter Wamsley, Barrett, Benjamin Banks, the Forsters, Richard Duke, and a whole host of little men. Among the makers mentioned there are three, viz., Banks, Forster, and Richard Duke, who did not copy Stainer steadfastly. Their early instruments are of the German form, but later they made many copies of the Cremonese. To Benjamin Banks we are indebted for having led the English makers to adopt the pattern of Amati. He had long laboured to popularise the school which he so much loved, but met with little encouragement in the beginning, so strong was the prejudice in favour of the high model. However, he triumphed in the end, and completely revolutionised the taste in England, till our Fiddle-fanciers became total ab-Stainers! Then commenced the taste for instruments of flat form. Where were they to be found? If the few by the early English makers be excepted, there were none but those of the Italians to be had, and perhaps a few old French specimens. Attention was thus directed to the works of the Cremonese, and the year 1800 or thereabouts may be put down as the time when the tide of Italian Violins had fairly set in towards France and England. The instruments by the Amati were those chiefly sought after; the amount of attention they commanded at this period was probably about equal to that bestowed upon the works of Stradivari and Guarneri at the present time. Violins of Amati and other makers were, up to this time, obtainable at nominal prices. The number in Italy was far in excess of her requirements, the demand made upon them for choir purposes in former days had ceased, and the number of Violins was thus quite out of proportion to the players. The value of an Amati in England in 1799 and 1804 may be gathered from the following extracts from the day-book of the second William Forster, who was a dealer as well as maker—"20th April, 1799. A Violoncello by Nicholas Amati, with case and bow, £17 17s. 0d.;" and further on—"5th July, 1804, an Amati Violin £31 10s. 0d." These prices were probably less than those which William Forster received for many instruments of his own make. It is certain that these low prices did not long continue; the price increased in due proportion to the vanishing properties of the supply. The call for Violins by the Amati was so clamorous as speedily to effect this result; the prices for them were doubled, trebled, and often quadrupled, until they no longer found a home in their native land. The value set on them by the French and English so far exceeded that which the Italians themselves could afford, even though inclined to indulge in such things, that the sellers were as eager to sell as the buyers to buy. During the time of this scramble for instruments of Cremona, the theory of the flat model was fast gaining ground. The circulation of the works of Cremona among the players of France and England led to a comparison of the various forms, and it was found that the elevated model was inferior in every way when tested by the works of the great Italian makers. Hitherto no distinction had been drawn as regards value among the productions of the several members of the Amati family. Andrea had been looked upon as equivalent to Girolamo, Antonio, or Niccolò; but attention now began to be directed towards the works of the brothers, and to those of Niccolò in particular, as the flat model gained in the appreciation of the Fiddling world. Grand Amatis became the coveted Fiddles; they were put up frequently at twice the value of the smaller patterns—a position they still maintain. The taste for the flat form having thus been developed, the works of Antonio Stradivari came to the front, slowly but surely; their beauties now became known outside the circle in which they had hitherto been moving: a circle made up chiefly of royal orchestras (where they were used at wide intervals), convent choirs, and private holders, who possessed them without being in the least aware of their merits. They were now eagerly sought by soloists in all parts of Europe, who spread their fame far and wide. Their exquisite form and finish captivating the dilettanti, the demand increased to an extent far beyond that commanded by the works of the Amati at the height of their popularity.

There were a few Stradivari instruments in England when Amati was the favourite maker, and their value at that period may be estimated, if it be true that Cervetto, the father of the famous Violoncellist, was unable to dispose of a Stradivari Violoncello for five pounds—a circumstance which shows how blind our forefathers were to the merits of the greatest maker the world has had. Among the artists of the early part of the present century who used the instruments of Stradivari were Boccherini, Viotti, Rode, Kreutzer, Habeneck, Mazas, Lafont, and Baillot.

About the year 1820 the fame of Giuseppe Guarneri as a great maker was published beyond Italy, chiefly through the instrumentality of Paganini. That wonderful player came to possess a splendid specimen of Guarneri del Gesù, dated 1743, now sleeping in the Museum at Genoa, which Paganini used in his tour through France and England. He became the owner of this world-famed Violin in the following curious manner. A French merchant (M. Livron) lent him the instrument to play upon at a concert at Leghorn. When the concert had concluded, Paganini brought it back to its owner, when M. Livron exclaimed, "Never will I profane strings which your fingers have touched; that instrument is yours." A more fitting present or higher compliment could not have been offered. The names of Amati and Stradivari became familiar to the musical world gradually, but Guarneri, in the hands of a Paganini, came forth at a bound. This illustrious Violin was often credited with the charm which belonged to the performer; the magical effects and sublime strains that he drew forth from it must, it was thought, rest in the Violin. Every would-be Violinist, whose means permitted him to indulge in the luxury, endeavoured to secure an instrument by the great Guarneri. The demand thus raised brought forth those gems of the Violin-maker's art, now in the possession of wealthy amateurs and a few professors. When the various works of the gifted Guarneri were brought to light, much surprise was felt that such treasures should have been known to such a handful of obscure players, chiefly in the churches of Italy. The Violin used by Paganini belongs to the last period of the great maker, and consequently, is one of those bold and massive instruments of his grandest conception, but lacks the beautiful finish of the middle period. The connoisseurs of those days had associated Giuseppe Guarneri with Violins of the type of Paganini's only; their surprise was great when it was discovered that there were three distinct styles in the works of Guarneri, one evidencing an artistic grandeur, together with a high finish, but little inferior to those of Antonio Stradivari. The marked difference between these epochs of Guarneri's manufacture has led to a great amount of misconception. Fifty years since, the world possessed little information on the subject, and the connoisseur of those times could not believe it possible that these varied styles emanated from one mind. The opportunities given to the connoisseur of later days of comparing the various instruments of the several epochs of Guarneri have set at rest all doubts concerning them. They no longer require dates or labels; they are as easily distinguished and classed as the works of Amati or Stradivari.

Attention was claimed for the works of Maggini by the charming Belgian Violinist, Charles de Bériot, who, early admiring the large proportions and powerful tone of Maggini's instruments, decided to use one for public playing. That an artist so refined as De Bériot, and one who attached so much importance to that sympathy between the Violin and player which should make it the vehicle for presenting its master's inward feelings, should have selected a Violin of large size, and adapted for giving forth a great volume of tone, was a matter of surprise to a great many of his contemporaries. Those who judged only from his school of playing anticipated that he would have selected Amati as embodying the qualities he so passionately admired. It is certain, however, that he succeeded in bringing the penetrating power of his Maggini thoroughly under his control. In the instruments of Maggini, De Bériot doubtless recognised the presence of vast power, together with no inconsiderable amount of purity of tone, and to bring forth these qualities to the best advantage was with him a labour of love. The popularity of Maggini's Violins rapidly raised their value. Instruments that, before De Bériot made them widely known, might have been purchased for ten pounds, realised one hundred. The Violin known as "De Bériot's Maggini" remained in his possession till within a short time of his death, when it was disposed of to his friend and patron, the Prince de Chimay, it is said, for the enormous sum of six hundred pounds—a price far in excess of the average value of Maggini's instruments. In this instance, the association of De Bériot with the instrument is sufficient, perhaps, to account for the rare price set upon it.

We now reach the time when Carlo Bergonzi began to be regarded as a maker of the first class. As a Cremonese maker, he was one of the latest to receive the attention to which his exceptional merits fairly entitled him. To English connoisseurs belongs the credit of appreciating this great maker.

The recognised merits of the makers already named naturally caused a demand for Italian instruments generally. If the masters could not be had, the pupils must be found; hence a whole host of Italian makers, quite unknown in England fifty years since, became familiar to the connoisseur. The works of Guadagnini, Gagliano, Grancino, Santo Serafino, Montagnana, and others whose names it is unnecessary to give, passed from Italy into France and England, until the various schools of Italian Violin manufacture were completely exhausted. When we look back, it is surprising that so much has been achieved in such a brief space of time. The knowledge of Italian works in 1800 was of the slenderest kind, both in France and England; in less than three-quarters of a century those countries contrived to possess themselves of the finest specimens of Cremonese instruments, together with those of other Italian schools. We here have an example of the energy and skill that is brought to bear upon particular branches of industry when once a demand sets in. Men of enterprise rise with it unnoticed, and lead the way to the desired end. In the case of Italian Violins it was Luigi Tarisio who acted as pioneer—a being of singular habits, whose position in the history of the Violin, considered as a curiosity, is an important one. This remarkable man was born of humble parents, wholly unconnected with the musical art. In due time he chose the trade of a carpenter, which vocation he followed with assiduity, if not with love. He amused himself during his leisure hours in acquiring a knowledge of playing on the Violin—an accomplishment that was destined to exercise an influence on his future life, far greater than was ever contemplated by the young carpenter. That his playing was not of a high order may be readily imagined: it was confined chiefly to dance-music, with which he amused his friends, Fiddling to their dancing. His first Violin was a very common instrument, but it served to engender within him that which afterwards became the ruling passion of his life. His study of this little instrument was the seed from which grew his vast knowledge of Italian works. So much was his attention absorbed by the form of the instrument that any skill in playing upon it became quite a secondary consideration. He endeavoured to see all the Violins within his reach, and to observe their several points of difference. The passion for old Violins, thus awakened, caused him to relinquish his former employment entirely, and to devote the whole of his attention to the art which he so loved. He soon became aware of the growing demand for Italian works, and felt that, possessed with a varied and proficient knowledge of the different styles of workmanship belonging to the Italian schools of Violin-making, he could turn his present acquirements to a profitable as well as pleasurable use. He resolved to journey in search of hidden Cremonas. His means were, indeed, very limited. His stock-in-trade consisted only of a few old Violins of no particular value. With these he commenced his labours, journeying in the garb of a pedlar, on foot, through Italian cities and villages, and often playing his Violin in order to procure the bare means of existence. Upon entering a village he endeavoured to ingratiate himself with the villagers, and thus obtain information of the whereabouts of any inhabitants who were possessed of any member of the Fiddle family, his object being to examine and secure, if possible, such instruments as were possessed of any merit. It can readily be conceived that at the commencement of the present century, numbers of valuable Cremonese and other instruments were in the hands of very humble people. Luigi Tarisio knew that such must be the case, and made the most of his good fortune in being the first connoisseur to visit them. His usual method of trading was to exchange with the simple-minded villagers, giving them a Violin in perfect playing order for their shabby old instrument that lacked all the accessories. It was indeed the case of Aladdin's Lamp, and as potent were these Fiddles as the wonderful lamp or ring itself. In the possession of Luigi Tarisio they drew forth from the purses of the wealthy gold that would have enabled the humble villagers to have ceased labour. It is an axiom, however, that everything on this earth is only of value providing it is in its proper place, and these rare old instruments, in the keeping of the poor peasants, could scarcely be considered to be in their proper element; their ignorant possessors were alike unable to appreciate their sterling worth, as works of art, or their powers of sound. Luigi Tarisio, after gathering together a number of old rarities, made for his home, and busied himself in examining the qualities of his stock, selecting the best works, which he laid aside. With the residuum of those instruments he would again set out, using them as his capital wherewith to form the basis of future transactions among the peasantry and others. He visited the numerous monasteries throughout Italy that he might see the valuable specimens belonging to the chapel orchestras. He found them often in a condition ill becoming their value, and tendered his services to regulate and put them into decent order—services gladly accepted and faithfully performed by the ardent connoisseur. By the handling of these buried treasures, his knowledge and experience were greatly extended. Makers hitherto unknown to him became familiar. When he met with instruments apparently beyond the repairer's skill, he would make tempting offers of purchase, which were often accepted. Having accumulated many instruments of a high order during these journeys, he began to consider the best means of disposing of them. He decided upon visiting Paris. He took with him the Violins he valued least, resolving to make himself acquainted with the Parisian Fiddle market before bringing forth his treasures. It is said that he undertook his journey on foot, depriving himself often of the common necessaries of life, that he might have more money to buy up his country's Fiddles. His first visit to Paris was in 1827, an eventful year in the history of Italian Violins, as far as relates to Paris. Upon arriving in the French capital, he directed his steps to the nearest luthier, one Aldric, to whom he had been recommended as a purchaser of old instruments of high value. Upon arriving at the shop of M. Aldric, Tarisio hesitated before entering, feeling suddenly that his appearance was scarcely in keeping with his wares, his clothes being of the shabbiest description, his boots nearly soleless, and his complexion, naturally inclined to blackness, further darkened by the need of ordinary ablutions. However, he set aside these thoughts, and introduced himself to the luthier as having some Cremona Violins for sale. Aldric regarded him half-contemptuously, and with a silent intent to convey to Tarisio that he heard what he said, but did not believe it. The Italian, to the astonishment of the luthier, was not long in verifying his statement; he opened his bag and brought forth a beautiful Niccolò Amati, of the small pattern, in fine preservation, but having neither finger-board, strings, nor fittings of any kind. The countenance of the luthier brightened when he beheld this unexpected specimen of the Italian's wares. He carefully examined it, and did his best to disguise the pleasurable feelings he experienced. He demanded the price. The value set on it was far in excess of that he had anticipated; he erroneously arrived at the probable cost from an estimate of the shabby appearance of the man. He had been comforting himself that the Italian was unaware of the value put upon such instruments. He decided to see further the contents of the bag before expressing an opinion as to the price demanded for the Amati. Violins by Maggini, Ruggeri, and others, were produced—six in number. Tarisio was asked to name his price for the six. After much giving and taking they became the property of the luthier. This business was not regarded as satisfactory by Tarisio; he had overestimated the value of his goods in the Paris market; he had not learned that it was he himself who was to create the demand for high-class Italian instruments by spreading them far and wide, so that their incomparable qualities might be observed. He returned to Italy with his ardour somewhat cooled; the ready sale at the prices he had put upon his stock was not likely to be realised, he began to think. However, with the proceeds of his Paris transaction he again started in search of more Cremonas, with about the same satisfactory results. He resolved to visit Paris again, taking with him some of his choicest specimens. He reached the French capital with a splendid collection—one that in these days would create a complete furore throughout the world of Fiddles. He extended his acquaintance with the Parisian luthiers, among whom were MM. Vuillaume, Thibout, and Chanot senior. They were all delighted with the gems that Tarisio had brought, and encouraged him to bring to France as many more as he could procure, and at regular intervals. He did so, and obtained at each visit better prices.

GASPARO DA SALÒ.
(LATE LORD AMHERST OF HACKNEY.)
Plate XX. 		GIUSEPPE GUARNERI DEL GESÙ.
1735.
(PRINCE FREDERICK WILLIAM OF PRUSSIA.)

This remarkable man may be said to have lived for nought else but his Fiddles. Mr. Charles Reade, who knew him well, says:1 "The man's whole soul was in Fiddles. He was a great dealer, but a greater amateur; he had gems by him no money would buy from him." It is related of him that he was in Paris upon one occasion, walking along the Boulevards with a friend, when a handsome equipage belonging to a French magnate passed, the beauty of which was the talk of the city. Tarisio's attention being directed to it by his friend, he calmly answered him that "he would sooner possess one 'Stradivari' than twenty such equipages." There is a very characteristic anecdote of Tarisio, which is also related by Mr. Reade in his article on Cremona Violins, entitled the "Romance of Fiddle-dealing":