We now arrive at a point when the question may be fairly put, how much help did he have, and of what kind was it?
As Stradivari left no record behind as to the number of pupils trained on his premises, or assistants who came perhaps as improvers, we are left to do our best in the way of inference. In the first place we may take up the acknowledged fact of his having turned out an enormous number of musical instruments during his very lengthy career; and it must be remembered that his energies were not centred alone in turning out magnificent violins, but that the viola, violoncello, double-bass, besides some of the then not quite obsolete viols of different sizes and fantastic forms, received his attention. These had to be produced at the requirements of his patrons, of whom many had probably not yet completely emerged from the misty musical atmosphere with which the fanciful forms with florid decorations seemed so intimately bound. Further, the fittings for them had to be made presumably on the premises of the maestro and not as at present in foreign parts. At the time there was not existent that extensive and special manufacture of bridges, tailpieces, tail-pins, and pegs that forms a large and significant branch of commerce at the present day. That the violin bridge especially was a production of the Stradivari establishment and not "made in Germany," is sufficiently indicated by its present form having been introduced by Stradivari. On comparing it with the different patterns of bridges that had been issued by the previous masters of Cremona, it will be seen at once that the master mind of Stradivari had effected improvements that have their counterpart in the designs of his violin patterns. We may notice the successful efforts at stability with simplicity, just enough of detail that would lend itself in completing the harmony of the whole design, while dispensing with every unnecessary angle or curve. Of the fingerboard and tailpiece we cannot speak in the same terms; the master seems to have accepted the manner of treating these parts as handed down by preceding generations from Gasparo da Salo, and thought there was no need for alteration. The design of the inlaid ornamentation on both these accessories, was, of course, of a kind with which the house of Stradivari would be identified and the execution also in accordance. Of the tailpin and pegs, with the decoration of both, the same may be said.
All these particulars point to considerable time spent in direct supervision after the preliminary designs had been made by the principal. This would reduce the available time for direct manual labour at his disposal. There would occasionally be some time spent in the discrimination for purchasing of particular choice kinds of pine and maple, these requiring the closest attention. Whether samples were brought for Stradivari's inspection by agents or their principals, or whether the maestro took journeys to particular districts where the exact kind of wood suitable to his requirements was to be had, we know not, but there seems to be much probability that the latter was his mode of obtaining that splendid growth of pine, both in appearance and tone-producing quality, with which he brought about such beautiful results. This, when obtained, had to be carefully stored away until such time as it might be required for immediate use. The cutting down and sawing up into lengths for different instruments would not be such as a maker with less patronage would personally engage in; we can therefore place this aside from the time consuming duties. There is, in the foregoing, enough and much over for reasonable inference that with a master, such as Stradivari, having the refined taste and adaptability for work, there was a considerable amount, if not all, of the merely mechanical work done according to his command or under his eye. This would naturally enough increase in proportion as the business connection grew. There would be in this nothing differing from what has been habitual with eminent professors in all branches of art; as far back as Phædias, Praxitelles and Appelles of the ancient classic Greek period. Later on it is well known that many of the masterpieces of the Renaissance period had much work upon them other than that immediately from the master's own hand. If this were not permissible, the number of the grandest creations of artistic genius would be most seriously limited. Raphael and his contemporaries, Rubens and Rembrandt, besides many other masters, are well known to have had numerous pupils in their studios engaged in carrying out ideas previously determined upon and drawn out for their guidance. These assistants were gradually drawn into the way and habit of thinking of their masters, and on leaving them, their own individuality or natural tendency uniting with what they had absorbed of their master's manner, the blending of the two became a fresh production of style. If we take this as our guide in summing up the probable amount of help that was drawn upon by Stradivari during his career, especially that part at which, in our consideration of him and his works, we had arrived, it cannot possibly lead us far from the actual facts. Taking into account the known pupils or assistants who received the benefits of personal instruction from Antonio Stradivari, they are more numerous than we can affix to the name of any other master, as it must be borne in mind that Stradivari had initiated a fresh style, the influence of which was destined to be of a far more reaching character than any hitherto coming to the front. The Stradivarian school became the foremost, most numerous and soon was to be the most imitated, of all. Among the earliest of his pupils (the precise number or even the names of all will never be known), may be placed Alexander Gagliano of Naples, working with him about the period of 1680 and some years later, one or two others of the Gagliano family may have been workmen in the Stradivari atelier. Lorenzo Guadagnini, Joannes Battista, his son and Josef of Pavia all claim to have lent a helping hand and received instruction, and there is nothing in their work that is in contradiction. The first became a great master of the Milanese school and was afterwards rivalled by his son, who was more cosmopolitan and not identified with one place in particular. I cannot include the names of Montagnana or Gobetti, which have been frequently referred to by various authors as pupils of Stradivari; a close examination of their style and workmanship leads to a different fountain of inspiration, notwithstanding which they both unquestionably were at one time influenced by the work of the great Cremonese artist as it arrived in Venice. Of Carlo Bergonzi, a great master, it is a well established fact that he worked with Stradivari and probably did much more for him as assistant than is generally acknowledged, but that he was originally a pupil is not in keeping with the early and varying patterns which have gone under his name. Further on it will be necessary to refer to this luminary of the art. We must not forget the two sons of Stradivari, Franciscus and Omobono, who received their initiation at the hands of their father and worked with him for many years, carrying on the business after his decease. Rumour has brought forth another name as pupil or workman with Stradivari, and whose identification with some fine specimens of the liutaro's art may yet prove an interesting study. A relative of the master, we should expect to find his work strongly tinged with the Stradivarian characteristics. His tickets are said to have been all removed in very early times after their insertion and that one only is known to have been preserved intact. Of the great rival—in public estimation—of Stradivari, Joseph Guarnerius, I.H.S., it can only be said there is not a single feature in his handiwork, style or tone, agreeing with the supposition that he at any time was his pupil or assistant, moreover, having by me distinct evidence of his pupilage of another maker of a different school, will of course prevent the inclusion of his name.
The number of pupils and assistants who worked with or under the supervision of Stradivari in his prime, might, if we knew all, be more considerable than we should be prepared to expect. The proportion in the usual course of nature, of those able to single out a path for themselves, prove their individuality superior to their fellows or eventually become of great eminence, must of necessity have been comparatively small. There may have been many working "on and off" under the eye of the master at different periods who were without ambition or the talent to rise above the position of humble helpers among their more talented brethren, born to be assistants only, and, in consequence, never heard of outside the studio. These, and the before mentioned, must all have had something to do with the instruments their master was sending forth into the world; the more clever ones being intrusted with some responsibility on particular work. It is not impossible to fix upon the parts the assistants probably would be allowed to work upon. In the first place, all the designing, drawing out and tracing down of the pattern on to the mould, or on to the unprepared blocks that were to be carved into necks, scrolls, or marked out for ribs, would be Stradivari's.
The different stages succeeding each other would be most likely as follows—firstly, the master having been commissioned by a wealthy patron to make of his best pattern and highest finish a quartet of instruments, he would take from his store of choice pine and sycamore, which he had taken so much trouble and skill in collecting together, such pieces that appeared to him suitable for the instruments to be constructed. The upper and lower tables had previously been hewn or sawn to size, then the jointed back and front, if both were so, planed carefully and made ready for the master's work, which would first come on to the wood as a careful tracing from his original design. Sometimes the tracing down may have been done by some advanced pupil or competent assistant. We may fairly assume the presence here of one or two, if not more, assistants, besides a pupil or improver. One would be selected for the bow-sawing of the pattern, another afterwards receiving it for roughly gouging out according to measurements at hand or marked by the master. Another had meanwhile the bending of the thin slips for the ribs to the necessary curves, or working down the corner and end blocks that had been affixed to the mould. Another, if not the same, might have been carrying out the first stages of the working of the scroll, or perhaps a very competent and trusty assistant would be allowed, under the eye of the master, to work on more advanced forms, making ready for the final or necessary touches of the master hand. The sound holes may have been traced down and even the upper and lower circular holes bored. Further, it is not impossible, that after the modelling back and front had been sufficiently advanced, the glueing and screwing down was intrusted to an assistant, and even some of the finishing up with glass paper or other material in use at the time and place, of parts of minor importance. These are, perhaps, the majority of the details in which the individuality of the handwork of the master was not obligatory in evidence.
In summing up what could have been done by other hands than those of the busy master, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, unless we admit its presence, to account for the extremely large output of the great Cremonese, even when taking fully into the balance his very industrious habits and extraordinary long working career. Assuming the above view to be reasonable, the number of new instruments which left the Stradivari house must have been very large. It is well known that the master undertook the repairs of musical instruments, which department would require some personal attention or supervision, even if actually executed by his assistants or his two sons, Francescus and Omobono, who, when their father died, were not very young, the first being sixty-five years of age, and the other fifty-five. They had most likely worked with their parent for about forty years and must have done much of making and repairing, that is, crediting them with some of their father's industrial tendencies. Stradivari had two other sons by his first wife, Francesca Ferraboschi, one, Giulio, died 1707, aged forty; the other, Allesandro, in 1732, aged fifty-five. Nothing seems to be known as to whether they were brought up by their father in his own craft or not; if they were, there was time for them also to have done much work with him. There was a son by his second wife, Antonia Zambelli, who died 1727, aged twenty-four, who under the same circumstances may have helped. We have thus five sons of Stradivari, who, if they were all taught the art, may have been working together, besides other assistants at the same time. Carlo Bergonzi has already been mentioned, but although he came late into the field, yet there seems a slight indication that he may have had to supply the place of others who had departed for the carrying out of their own schemes.
Having so far roughly estimated the kind and amount of work, not necessarily his own, on the violins that were sent forth by Antonio Stradivari, we may glance at the particulars of detail that demanded his handiwork and that solely. That there were keen connoisseurs living at the time of Stradivari, as also in the previous century and earlier, there is no room for doubting. Workers in art reduce their inspirations to tangible forms helped by colour that people may see them and, comparing them with what may have gone before and have been executed at the same time, pass judgment on them. In like manner Stradivari, like other masters before him, knew that his handiwork would be scrutinised as well as the tone of his instruments. It was therefore obligatory that purchasers should know his work, that in fact his sign manual should be always present. Contemporaneous with him were makers, artists, who had been initiated in the mysteries of the manufacture and application of the wonderful varnishes which have since by their qualities made them famous throughout the civilised world. There was nothing, however, in the material or its application that could, under the closest examination, be discerned as different to what might be seen on the best instruments of the Amatis—these must have been numerous at the time—the Ruggieris or the Venetian masters, but these did not in the application invariably work up to a certain standard of excellence, whereas Stradivari always did. There was a consummate beauty of result in this branch of the liutaro's art known at the time to many, beyond which it seemed not possible to go. It was, therefore, more in the construction and workmanship then, that the sign manual was perceptible. With this view Stradivari seems to have been careful to let the evidence of no hand but his own be seen in parts that were sure to be closely scrutinised as evidence.
Standing first perhaps in importance would be the cutting of the sound holes, the design and careful drawing of these being completed, and cut in metal—it is said thin copper was used by him—they may have been mostly traced down by himself on the pine of the upper table prepared and in readiness to receive it, although this part without much danger could have been done by an intelligent and experienced assistant. The cutting and finishing with the thin keen edged knife, however, must be his, the slightest shaving over the traced line or not quite up to it would be sufficient to impart a totally different character to the whole. There is no part of the violin in which the sum total of the native characteristics and ability are shown to such exactitude as the cutting of these all important and expressive openings. In those of Stradivari is to be seen the same firmness of purpose and strict curbing of the fancy from proceeding too far, or allowing stability to be over balanced by love of gracefulness, as seen in the designs of his eminent master. To allow no weak part to be perceptible; strength of line with sufficient grace, admirable proportion and balance, and yet withal sufficient expression of mobility and freedom from heaviness were each, seemingly in turn, given the best attention by the great genius of Cremona. It is not using extravagant language when they are termed the eyes of the violin, for it is to these that experienced connoisseurs turn their attention at once when inspecting a violin of character newly placed before them. Cut by an Italian, cut by a Frenchman, by a German, by a nobody in particular or who understood nothing about it, are the thoughts arising in the mind. Each country has its peculiar and native rendering of every sound hole that was first designed in Italy. This tendency to impart their own national characteristics by each native workman, runs parallel with that in pictorial art in the transferring to various materials the impressions received after study of the original or animated reality. To many the sound holes of an Italian gem of the highest class are but sound holes that are more neatly done or prettier than usual. To others they will be the expression in that simple form of an exquisitely acute perception of what will excite pleasurable emotions with regard to delicately balanced proportions, graceful flow of line, and freedom from all appearance of effort. That there is much in little concerning this, is proved by the non-success of all foreign copyists to give a reproduction of the Italian native touch to these details. That this is not an overdrawn description, may be seen on a close comparison between an original Stradivari of almost any period and the most closely traced, laboriously studied and keenly cut sound holes of any of the modern imitators. All have failed signally over these two apparently simple openings on the surface of the upper table.
Notwithstanding this, it may be said there are scarcely two violins alike in respect of expression of these adornments of the structure, each instrument is made to convey its own impression, or display its particular kind of beauty. There is a difference, scarcely to be measured mathematically, that in one will be suggestive of masculine strength, while in another it will be exquisite feminine grace.
In none of the imitations of the master are there seen these qualities expressed in the same degree and kind. It has often been said, and there is more than a substratum of truth in the remark, that, "to copy a Stradivari successfully"—of course, in the fullest sense of the word—"the copyist must be a Stradivari himself." There might, appropriately, be an addition put to this, namely, that a man who could work up to the dizzy height of his ambition in this way, would not copy, but make originals.