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.

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:—

Dwight’s Journal of Oct. 9th says:—

Then followed two concerts at the Masonic Temple. Concerning her playing at these concerts we may quote from Dwight’s Journal of October 16th.

The first of these concerts was on the 8th and the second on the 12th of the month. Neither was successful and evil days again came upon them. The concert company broke up and each looked out for himself as best he could. As for Camilla she returned to New York with her father and aunt and they settled down in poor and miserable quarters in a house on Howard street—the Rue Lamartine of New York.

Her reception in Boston had not been a pleasant one. There seemed to be a prejudice against her. The good people could not quite forgive her for being a girl. It was well for Paul Julian—he was a boy. Camilla’s appearance disturbed their nice sense of propriety. This is only the more remarkable when we come to see that later in her life Boston became her second home. It was here that she afterwards laid the foundation for her reputation and here she won her greatest triumphs. Since, she has played in our city over two hundred times and here her greatest and latest artistic efforts have been made. Little did she think as she left the city that she should afterwards enter it twice under most peculiar circumstances and afterwards make it the home of her girlhood and sometimes her residence in womanhood.

Heaven helps those who try to help themselves. It was useless to cry or sit down in despair. Camilla at once resumed her practice under her father’s guidance. The violin was taken out again and the wretched alley-ways about Howard street reechoed with the strains of the marvelous instrument. By the hour the music floated out the dismal chamber window where the wonder-child toiled over the seemingly hopeless task. The thin, pale face bent over the music book all the day long. Practice, practice, practice. Life seemed made for that.

What was the good of it all? It had only brought them poverty and sorrow. Not for a moment did she pause. The art was reward enough without the money. She would wait.

It happened just at this time that Paul Julian, not in the most happy financial circumstances came to New York and for a week lived in the same humble boarding house with the Ursos. Camilla’s room was up stairs and Paul’s just under it. Both practiced incessantly, and Camilla’s father while attending to her lessons would often say:—“Hear that boy! He loves to practice.”

Paul’s father in the room below would bid the boy stop and listen to the girl artist overhead and say:—

“Hear that girl! See how she loves to practice.”

When the lesson hour was over the two children met on the stairs or on the sidewalk for their brief play hour and would exchange notes concerning their two fathers.

“Was your father cross to-day?”

“Yes. Cross as a bear!”

“So was mine.”

Camilla did not remain in obscurity and poverty long. Archbishop Hughes heard of her and arranged a charity concert in which she was invited to appear. The concert was for the benefit of the Catholic Orphan Asylum and as Camilla had contributed largely to its success a share of the proceeds were given to her father. This fortunately saved them from immediate want and in a few days after a still greater piece of luck came to them. A letter came from Philadelphia inviting Camilla to play at a concert given by the Philharmonic society of that city. She at once went to Philadelphia in company with her father and aunt and there received one hundred and fifty dollars for a single performance on her violin. This was the largest sum she had ever received at one time and it seemed as if their day of small things was nearly over.

While they were in Philadelphia an agent of the Germania Musical Society of Boston visited them and invited Camilla to join the Society in a series of concerts that they proposed to give in the New England cities. A handsome salary was offered and they all three started once more for Boston.

They took rooms at the United States Hotel and prepared for a long stay. Camilla’s return and reappearance in our streets was not happy. They arrived on Saturday and the next day having nothing in particular to do Camilla took aunt Caroline’s hand and they went out for a little walk. The streets, so strangely quiet in their foreign eyes, seemed dull and they walked on thinking they might come to some garden or pleasure ground where the people would be listening to a band, drinking coffee and making merry in a proper manner.

They could not find the place. The stores were all closed and it seemed very stupid and gloomy. They would return to their hotel. It was down this street No. It was that way. Which way was it? The streets were so very crooked that really they were quite lost.

They stopped a gentleman and said as best they could—“Unated Statis Hotel?” He did not seem to understand and passed on. Then they tried a lady and repeated the words “Unated Statis Hotel?” The lady talked about something but they could not understand a single word. Again and again they stopped people on the walk and repeated the strange words. Every one shook his head or talked rapidly about things they could not understand and not one could show the way to the “Unated Statis Hotel.”

Poor Camilla began to cry with the cold and they were having a sorry time of it. They met an Irish servant girl going home from church. They repeated the words to her and the quick witted girl soon led them back a few steps and showed them the great brick block with its gilded sign “United States Hotel.”

Now it was that we became familiar with Camilla’s face in our streets. Her black felt hat and long dark green plume that was at once so singular and so very becoming, her big blue eyes with the sly twinkle in them, the smiling mouth and sweet tempered expression of her face won unusual attention and admiration. Children in the streets said “there goes Camilla Urso,” and ran after her to see the pretty French girl who had come to live among us. Traditions of her girlhood days are still treasured up in many Boston families and pleasant stories are told of this part of her life. She here grew in mind and stature and she was no longer little Camilla but Mademoiselle Camilla Urso.

The first concert with the Germanias was given on the evening of December 11th, and from that time there was a brief space of financial happiness for our young Mademoiselle. For several months she had more leisure than she had ever known in her short life. Their headquarters were in Boston and the tours were short and easy.

There seemed to be no immediate prospect of returning to France and something must be done about Mademoiselle’s English education. The family made their home at the United States Hotel and during the intervals between the short concert trips a private tutor came to their rooms to instruct her young ladyship in the language of the country. Nothing had been done even in French and she found herself woefully ignorant for a ten year old girl. It made very little difference for she took up the matter with enthusiasm and learned to read in an incredibly short time. Within three months she could express herself with tolerable ease in English and learned to read almost anything that was put before her either in French or English. How it happened she could hardly explain. It must have been the intuitive grasping of a mind prematurely active and retentive. She could read music as easily as a Boston girl of her age could read the daily papers, and it did not seem to her in any sense difficult to understand the much more simple alphabet of spoken language. She had only one objection to her tutor. He helped her over the hard words and all that and was not cross but as she confided to her aunt, “he was very disagreeable—she didn’t like him for he chewed—and it wasn’t pleasant.”

At the same time such a demure puss, with such proper notions about manners was not above joining some of the other girls in grand romps in the corridors of the hotel, nor afraid to join them in the glorious mischief of changing all the boots put out at the doors of the rooms and then listen at the top of the stairs at the fine uproar caused by their pranks.It was during this residence in Boston that Camilla was confirmed at Church and she passed the allotted weeks of preparation at the Convent of Notre Dame at Roxbury. Her father thought it a sad loss of time on account of her violin practice, but for Camilla it was a period of unalloyed happiness. She was the pet of the school, and her simple, childlike nature bloomed out freely in the quiet atmosphere of the place. Here for the first time she learned to use her needle. Pen, needles, pen-knife and scissors had been carefully kept out of her hands for fear of possible injury to her fingers and yet she learned to sew quite well in a very few lessons. It was merely a mechanical operation and it came to her in a flash. She astonished the good sisters with her feats of embroidery and fine sewing and they could not understand how such an one could learn so quickly. The manual skill of playing and the quick eye in reading music had probably much to do with it. The weeks at the convent were like a charming oasis in the dry and dusty plain of her public life and she came out of the school blooming with health and happiness.

On the 4th of April, 1853, the Germanias started out on an extended tour through the Western States and with them went Mademoiselle Camilla, her father and aunt. It was upon this trip that Camilla Urso’s face became familiar to the people of this country. She had visited nearly every important city and town in New England and now she played in every large city through the Northern and Western States. She went as far west as St. Louis and as far south as the Ohio. It was a stirring, eventful life. Traveling constantly, playing four or five times a week, meeting new friends every day, practicing steadily and growing in mind and stature she seemed to have found the desire of her young heart. Finally the trip ended at Rochester, New York, on the 11th of June, and the company separated. The Germanias went to Newport for their summer campaign and the Ursos returned to New York.

Madam Henrietta Sontag was at this time traveling in this country. She had given a series of very successful operatic performances in Boston and New York during the Winter and Spring, and proposed to make a concert tour through the West and South during the Fall and Winter. M. Urso while in New York received a letter from her agent inviting Camilla to join the troupe. Accordingly she set out with her father and met Madam Sontag’s party at Cincinnati. Aunt Caroline traveled with them as far as Louisville, Ky. Madam Sontag, who was greatly pleased with Camilla here offered to have a motherly eye over her and accordingly her aunt returned to New York and only M. Urso remained to be guide and helper to our young Mademoiselle.

For Camilla this trip was a season of great happiness. She was earning money rapidly, her mother in far away Paris could share in the golden store and her father was pleased and satisfied.Madam Sontag became a second mother to Camilla and treated her with the utmost kindness. Every day Camilla must come to her room to practice and receive instructions in singing. Camilla’s instrument was the violin. She could sing with more than ordinary skill and in perfecting her phrasing and in improving her style in vocal music Madam Sontag insensibly improved her violin music. All of Camilla’s music was examined by the great singer and in those stray hours picked up between the demand of concerts and travel much of art and happiness was enjoyed.

Camilla was the favorite of the entire company. There was Pozzolini, the tenor, fat Badially, the bass, jolly Rocco the buffo singer and Alfred Jael the rising young pianist, merriest of them all. With each Camilla was a pet. Every one seemed ready to please the young girl and in their society life passed happily. Freed from anxiety and the excessive and wearisome practice her nature expanded and she began to show that sweet and amiable character that so brightens her maturer years.

Giving concerts at every city the party took their triumphant way down the Ohio and Mississippi to New Orleans. The brilliant concerts, the strange people, the mighty river, the life on the palatial steamboats, the perpetual change of scene awoke Camilla’s fancy and imagination and developed her character rapidly. The publicity, the glare and the excitement only brought out her intellectual and artistic power. Most young people would have been upset and spoiled by vanity. Her young days in the orchestra at Nantes had accustomed her to public life, and the poverty and trial she had gone through served as good ballast to keep her steady when riding on the topmost wave of success.

The tour ended at New Orleans with even greater triumphs. Camilla appeared eighteen times in company with Madam Sontag and each concert was a perfect success in every sense.

Then in a moment the bright dream came to an end. Madam Sontag and her opera company set out for Mexico, leaving Camilla and her father in New Orleans. She would return soon and in the mean time Camilla could wait and by study and practice prepare for a new tour through the Northern States in the Spring.

In a few weeks came the dreadful news that the good and amiable woman, and the great artist was dead. She had died after a brief illness in the city of Mexico and all of Camilla’s hopes were destroyed. Again she was without employment and without money. Her father was not distinguished for sound financial ability. He was too generous and liberal, and in spite of the large sums of gold that had been paid to him on Camilla’s account he found himself in actual distress at the breaking up of the Sontag combination. With reasonable prudence they could have saved enough to enable them to retreat to the more prosperous field in the Northern States. As it was Camilla was obliged to begin again, and slowly, and painfully win her way back alone to the North and to happier days. An agent was found to take her through the Southern cities and thence by the way of the seaboard to New York. It was not a happy trip. There was no longer a great singer to attract attention, there was no obedient and skillful business man traveling ahead to prepare the way and secure hotel comforts and financial success.

Camilla’s violin was the only attraction, and to fill out the programme they were obliged to call in the aid of such local talent as they could find in the various cities they visited. Mobile, Savannah, Charleston, and other places were visited and after a slow and disagreeable journey they arrived in Baltimore in the Spring of 1855 almost without a cent.

Here came a singular episode in Camilla’s life that will illustrate the perfection of her schooling at the Conservatory of music at Paris. A gentleman and a public singer heard of Camilla’s difficulties and arranged a concert for her benefit. At this concert Camilla for the first and only time laid aside her violin and appeared as a singer. No one had thought of her in this character and her duet from the opera of L’elisir d’Amore, by Donizetti, was a great surprise. She exhibited a fine, clear voice almost as well trained as her fingers. The performance only showed how thorough had been her instruction in solfeggio at the Conservatory. Every true artist is a singer. No matter what his or her instrument may be, no matter how skillful their fingers may be with bow or keys, singing must form a part of their education. This is the theory of Camilla’s study in music. The practice of solfeggio gives clearness and accuracy to the ear, and teaches the eye to read with certainty and speed. Much of her understanding of music has come from such practice and it should form a part of every musician’s education.

Finally father and daughter reached New York after an absence of nearly nine months, and almost as poor as when they started. The Summer season was at hand and there was very little opportunity for concerts. In company with her father she then went to Canada and there traveled from place to place giving occasional concerts and everywhere winning many friends. Invitations to visit the homes of private families came to them freely and for Camilla the trip was a very happy one. So happy indeed that she was unwilling to leave her new friends even when the news of her mother’s arrival in New York was received. M. Urso went on to receive his wife, but Camilla persisted in staying where she was. She was the admired and sought after young girl. Every one seemed ready to offer her every pleasure and attention and she was far from willing to return to the life of concert giving and practice.

Concerning the music that Mademoiselle Urso played at this time, we may mention a few of the pieces usually given at her concerts. They give us not only an idea of her musical ability, but serve to illustrate the character of the concert pieces in vogue at that time. No musical life would be complete, even if it is that of a “wonder-child” without some information concerning the actual work performed. Mademoiselle Urso was not in any sense limited in her range of pieces. She did not have a mere stock set that she always played. She could and did play everything that had been printed for the violin. In her girlhood’s concerts she chose those most popular without much regard to their actual position in the art. She had not then reached her true artist-life and was not, as now, in a position to lead the public taste into the higher fields of classic music. She played then such pieces as the Violin Concerto, by Viotti, Alard’s Souvenir the Daughter of the Regiment, Souvenir de Gretry, Souvenir de Mozart, by Leonard, and the Tremolo, by De Beriot. She also gave at times the Witches’ Dance, by Paganini and La Melancholie, by Prune.

After some delay Camilla joined her father and mother at New York, and the family were once more reunited. It was at this time that they had the misfortune to have their rooms entered, and all the presents, including the pearl cross that Camilla had received on that almost forgotten German tour, were stolen.

The family were not united long. In the Fall Mrs. Macready, the reader, invited Camilla to join her troupe on a tour through the West. As mother and daughter had been separated for a long time Madam Urso traveled with Camilla a portion of this journey. Unfortunately Madam Urso was taken sick at Cincinnati and for a while Camilla traveled alone with Mrs. Macready. This tour was quite a successful one for Camilla and it finally ended in Nashville, Tenn., where the party separated.