PURFLING.
There seems a difference of opinion as to where this word originally
was used. I fancy in ancient heraldry; but there the word is
"pur_flew_" a "bordure of ermines, peans, or furs," whilst the
ancients spell it "pur_file_," a "trimming for women's gowns."
Milton says "to purfle--to embroider." So it seems it has ever been
used as an ornamental border, no matter what thing it had to grace,
for grace it is: and though not essential to the violin in the
matter of tone, yet it most certainly is from an artistic point of
view; and its absence in an old instrument constitutes the double
drawback of being unfinished, and of less, very much less, value.
But it will be asked by some people, who know something of the
construction of the instrument, "what has purfling got to do with
the making of a violin at this stage?" To which I answer, much, very
much indeed from my standpoint, and according to my theory, as I
will explain. It will not be denied, I think, that makers have done
and now do this ornamental part _after_ the body of the instrument
is put together--in fact, the query at the beginning of this
paragraph proves it; by whom I do not know, nor advocated by what
book. But I ask you, is it not vexatious when all your efforts have
been used to work up your surfaces and to round off and finish your
edges, you must in a sense undo much of it, temporarily, by using a
tool, or tools, to cut the narrow channel for the ornament, and
using glue to finally fix it, when _some_ of the superfluous
purfling has either to be cut away by a gouge or scraper? And
besides, and to me most important, glue, though wiped quickly away
with a sponge and hot water, _will_ leave a residue which can never
be wholly got out of the pores; and this should not be if you want a
brilliant varnish. Of course I mean oil varnish, but am apt to
forget this age of cheapness, which flies to easily put on,
quick-drying, cheap spirit.
So, as I made it quite clear to you when introducing the subject of
these lectures, that it was entirely on _my_ system that I was going
to work, so we will now resume, I deeming no apology necessary for
occupying your time in denouncing what, should you imitate, would be
bad in art.
It is not my intention to go over the various styles of
purfling--double, variegated, etc., etc.--but to show you how I
prepare and place that which is universal now, the single, composed,
as most people know, of two very thin strips of black wood on either
side of one white one. But to do this, I must mark, cut and remove
the groove in which it has to rest, which requires much explanation.
The outlined back, being quite ready for marking, I clamp down to
the bench with two of those marked 11, one at either end, leaving
one side of the outlet free. Then I take this specially-made
purfling tool, No. 13, with its tracers fixed for marking the two
parallel lines about five-thirty-seconds of an inch from the perfect
outline of the back, and I grasp the handle in both hands
perpendicularly, pressing the revolving wheel against the edge, of
course, and keeping the steel markers going carefully and with only
slight pressure all round the instrument, stopping without running
_off_ at the corners, however. There is, you see, about two inches
not marked where the button comes; this must be traced by placing a
piece of prepared hard wood, made to touch just the same curve as
where the lines would have come had there been no wood there for a
button. This must be very carefully placed and traced, as,
otherwise, all will not be in correct sweep.
Now, gentlemen, we enter on a difficult stage--nay, two; but then,
as I was once asked by a gentleman, "Which part of a violin is the
most difficult to make?" I replied, "Every part." But not quite
that; still, what I am now going to do is not by any means the
least. But you must not lose heart; he who never fights, never
conquers; the man who never blundered or made a mistake, never made
anything.
Fasten the plate again on the inner part, not the edge, of the
bench, so that you can lean over to do what you see I am about to
do, and remove cramps as occasion requires. This is a one and
one-eighth inch pointed gouge, 54, long ground and very sharp and
thin. I grasp it in my right hand, holding and guiding with the
left, and gently work to barely the depth of the purfling along one
of the two narrow lines, and then the other for a short distance,
until I get a somewhat more substantial double line all over the
body. But I must warn you respecting the very tender corners. When
you are about say an inch from each on both of its turns, work the
three-quarter inch gouge, 52, still more guardedly, and barely so
deep, and to a very fine point, both curves, ready to receive the
two joined pieces of purfling which is to present you with what is
called the "Bees' sting." Do all this as well as lies in your power,
for upon this channel being well cut will depend much of the success
of the whole ornamentation.
Finishing the tracing and cutting the groove, I find tool No. 0, and
remove the strip from it, plate 4. And let me here again tell you to
be careful, as it is so easy for a chip to flirt airily from either
side, or for your tool to probe too deeply and nearly through the
wood, putting you--or, more likely, some one else--to trouble and
very nice mending ere all is sound. And the corners only look really
well and handsome when you find them as on plate 4, because
experience tells one the material to go therein can be made to look
equally so.
[Illustration: PLATE IV.]
To cut the prepared purfling into lengths (only approximate, exact
had better not yet be tried by you), and heat the iron (inside the
bending iron) to a good red, but not white heat, is the next thing I
do, and, while the tool is getting ready for me, I cut the purfling
of the middle bout at one end only, so that I have half of the
finely graduated point we see in a corner of a well-wrought violin,
the half springing from one of the other bouts forming the complete
whole. You must not suppose that the _exact_ length of the ornament
is to be measured by you, no, not with unabated practice; you will
have to begin with a length always longer than you need, and pare
from the points until your lengths fit beautifully before they are
fixed with glue--that is, after bending to shape, which I now
proceed to do.
Of course, my experience is great, so I manage to get through this
very tedious part of the work without breaking the sensitive thread
of wood; but I am bound to tell you that you must be prepared for
mishaps, as you will be sometimes off your guard and apply force (if
ever so mild) to bend what tact, a sort of feeling I may say, and an
iron kept hot, can alone achieve. But, if you break, prepare fresh
lengths, and again and again; and I warrant your repeated disasters
will have something to do with amended touch, and consequently its
results.