Question: When is a Civil War fife not a Civil War fife?
Answer: When it was made in 1927. . . or 1938. . . or somewhere in between.
• • •
Question: When is a Civil War fife not a Civil War fife?
Answer: When it was made in 1927. . . or 1938. . . or somewhere in between.
• • •
On the Fife-O-Meter, this fife ranks an 8 out of 10, as far as Cloos fifes go. It appears to be flawless with no cracks, open grain, dents, or gouges. The ferrules are lovely — maybe a bit too lovely for an old fife, so I am taking a point away for the injudicious use of silver cleaner. The other point is lost because, at 15-1/2 inches total length, it likely plays in C and not the more desirous B-flat.
All in all, a pretty nice fife.
On the Fake-O-Meter though, I give it a -10. It loses 5 points merely because it is a Cloos
and therefore couldn’t possibly have a Civil War provenance, despite what the seller says:
As readers of this blog already know, the machinery to make this kind of ferrule wasn’t available until after the war was over, which is precisely when Cloos bought one and set his sons to work spinning tapered ferrules. The other 5 points are deducted because of the tone-hole pattern which, according to all available evidence, was not designed until the Clooses had examined some fifes of Crosby’s make, and that didn’t occur until 1873 — at the earliest.
However, this fife has a unique feature that strains the Fake-O-Meter to almost the breaking point. It is the inscription, “8th Vermont Infantry.”
There are at least two people on this earth (me and a colleague in Maryland) who know that this mark (and others like them) is fake, but the fact that it appears on an obviously post-war fife should be enough to give a serious heads-up to the rest of the fife-collecting world. But because the seller believes it is a rare feature that confirms the impossible, causing him-or-her to raise the price to an outrageous sum, the fife loses 10 more points and actually falls below the range of the Fake-O-Meter.
Buy this fife if you like it. Buy it if you can afford it. Buy it if you want a C-pitched Cloos to round out your collection. Or buy it because it has shiny ferrules. But don’t buy it because it is a Genuine Civil War Cloos fife, because it isn’t.
Copyright, HistoryOfTheAncients, 2014. All rights reserved.
I guess you know my decision, but I’d like to know yours. Treasure or trash?
Photos courtesy of ebay seller, NQAC. To see all photos plus the seller’s text, please visit http://www.ebay.com/itm/RARE-Colonial-Era-Wooden-Flute-Fife-NOT-Reproduction-Museum-Piece-/121203155223?pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&hash=item1c38456117
When is a fife worth $14,800? Damned if I know. But I do know when it ain’t.
The seller makes a good argument to support his asking price. His description paraphrases (but does not acknowledge) a substantial passage from William Waterhouse, ed., The New Langwill Index (London, 1993), which is where just about anyone researching historical woodwinds begins to search:
“Thomas Stanesby Jr. was apprenticed to his father in 1706 and set up his own establishment over the Temple Exchange in Fleet Street near St Dunstan-in-the-West soon after being released from his indenture in 1713. In 1728 he received the Freedom of the Turner’s Company and in 1739 he was elected Master. In 1734 he inherited all his father’s tools and a seal ring. He eventually took two apprentices, William Sheridan 1737 and Caleb Gedney in 1741, who finished his apprenticeship in 1750 and inherited the tools of his Master upon his death in 1754. About 1732 Stanesby, sensing the impending eclipse of the recorder in professional music circles, issued A New System of the Flute a Bec or Common English Flute wherein he argued vigorously for the use of the ‘C Flute’ (tenor recorder in C) and presented a ‘full and perfect’ fingering chart. The demand for the transverse flute increased, however, and Stanesby made a considerable number of these. Halfpenny wrote that Stanesby signed himself ‘junior’ only up to 1732. He marked his instruments ‘STANESBY IUNIOR’ or ‘STANESBY LONDON’; the mark ‘MURAEUS’ is added to the only surviving bassoon, which is dated 1747 (it was possibly repaired by the maker of that name). Other surviving instruments include 38 flutes (of which 25 are ivory), two flutes d’amore, 16 recorders, five oboes and a bassoon.”
Quite convincing — until you consider a few facts beyond the scope of Langwill:
In the 18th century, the fife was a military signal instrument. The London woodwind makers, whose specialty lay in flutes, clarinets, bassoons, oboes, and the like, made fifes as a sideline primarily to fulfill military contracts. However, the British military had been using (and buying) oboes, not fifes, for the field music since at least 1685 and maybe even earlier (Raoul F. Camus, Military Music of the American Revolution, Chapel Hill, 1976). This practice extended far beyond “the 1730s,” since the fife “was not restored till about the year 1745, when the Duke of Cumberland introduced it into the guards; it was not, however, adopted in the marching regiments til the year 1747,” this according to Francis Grose (Military Antiquities, London, 1788). Even so, reinstitution of the fife into the field music was not widespread until a decade later, when the London publishers responded to the market demand for instruction books to aid the military fifer in his new-found craft. What all this means is that any London woodwind maker, including both Stanesbys, Senior and Junior, would have wasted his time making fifes in “1732” or at any other time in “the 1730s,” simply because no one was interested in buying them. And they would have to be unusually clairvoyant to make them in anticipation of a war that wouldn’t begin for another 40-plus years, as the seller’s title suggests.
Equally important is what the seller failed to note while reading Langwill; to wit, the wording on a trade card preserved in the British Library, which reads in part:
N.B. Whereas Instruments are sold about the Town pretended to be made by Persons who have work’d under my Father or Me, which is an Imposition on the Publick, for my Father, or Self, never taught, or employ’d any other Person, in the finishing part of any Instrument whatsoever…”
Indeed, Stanesby’s fears of counterfeit instruments bearing his mark were well-founded, since spurious instruments survive to this day. Two of these are cited in Langwill, but doubtless there are others — including this one, which could have been made as recently as, oh, I’d say yesterday, judging by the fact that it is plastic:
Or this one, each joint of which is marked STANESBY / JUNIOR but which the seller states is “new:”
In any event, given all of the above, the fife in question might have caused the later Stanesbys much angst, but it never really bothered the original Mr. Stanesby Junior at all. That’s because he was dead long before it was made. I can say this because an examination of the images provided by the seller points to a fife made in the early part of the 19th century.
Let’s start with the ferrules. The seller notes that “at some point in time someone scratched in some letters and numbers along with some anchor symbols into the brass ferrels on the ends.” However, the letters and numbers that the seller would have us dismiss are “C” and “AD 1808. The “C” most likely is an indicator of pitch, but more important are the four numbers, 1808, preceded by “AD” (Anno Domini). This is clear evidence of a date. And it is entirely likely that this fife was indeed made in 1808 or shortly (very shortly) before.
Also, the seller calls our attention to a stylized anchor, which is built around a burnished seam. The seam tells us a lot about how the ferrules were constructed. At this time (the early 19th century), ferrules were made of thin brass sheets that were wrapped around the wooden body with the edges burnished (rubbed) to seal them in the required tubular shape. They were further secured to their seating by use of a pincing tool, which indented them at regular intervals onto the fife body. In these photos one of the pinces is visible.
We now recognize the burnished seam as the anchor’s shank, around which the artist/owner incised the stock, a V-shaped crown, tipped flukes, and intertwining rode.
Another 19th century feature is the unequal lengths of the ferrules, which is visible in the total body views:
The fife body tells a similar story. The fact that it appears to be of boxwood is not surprising, as boxwood was the hands-down favorite of British woodwind makers well into the 19th century. The tone holes, though, are set in variable distances from each other. While this could indicate an attempt to improve pitch, their placement favors finger positioning more than pitch improvement. Besides, the “two groups of three” is a pattern found in fifes (and flutes) produced in the early-to-mid 19th century in both Britain and America.
In short, I could find nothing in the images or in the seller’s commentary that would convince me that this is a fife made in “1732” or at any time in “the 1730s.” It might be that old had it been perhaps a sopranino flute and not a fife, but several features,including the brass ferrules (a flute might have rings but not ferrules), only reinforce its identity as a (military) fife.
So, is it worth $14,800? To answer that question, I compared it to another fife made by a contemporary London maker, that being Valentine Metzler:
As you can see it is uncannily similar to the super-high-priced Stanesby, right down to the machine-scored ferrules, and tells pretty much the same story. However, it does this much more reliably since we have no indication that anyone faked (or is faking) Metzler fifes, legitimately or otherwise, and the maker’s mark thereon indicates a circumscribed production date between 1788 and 1815. So, since I bought the Metzler for $10.00 (plus $3.00 insured shipping), my answer to the $14,800 question would have to be “no.”
Copyright 2013, History of the Ancients Dot Org
I can’t even begin to comment on this seller’s description of this fife. The Arthur Ott Shields collection is well known, but the “blood stains” are a stretch.
By 1864, the Civil War was nearly over, but neither the Federals nor Confederates could know that for certain. Both governments continued to recruit soldiers, and in the North the merchant mass scrambled to secure lucrative military contracts for the necessary clothing, arms, and accouterments as well as for drums and fifes. Some makers, such as New York’s Firth and Pond and Philadelphia’s William H. Horstmann Co., filled governmental orders with standard instruments, but others responded to the increased demand by developing and patenting improvements, especially in fife design. One such maker was Philadelphia’s John Pfaff.
Pfaff was one of 7 sons of Johann Pfaff of Kaiserlautern. In Germany, Johann and 3 of his sons made woodwinds, a practice that John continued upon his arrival in the United States in 1842. He worked a year in Baltimore, but then the 26-year-old Pfaff established a shop in Philadelphia, where he stayed until his death in 1887.
John Pfaff produced flutes mostly but also clarinets. He was not content to just make them, he also improved them. In 1857 he invented (and patented) a flute that could be played vertically, because
In playing the ordinary flute it is necessary to turn the head partially to one side, and to maintain the arms in an unnatural position, causing distortions and strains which have been found to affect the chests of players, and more especially of beginners. The fingers and wrist too have to be stretched to an inconvenient extent.
Health issues aside, Pfaff further believed that the unusual playing position of his newly designed flute “actually improves [the tone of the flute] both as regards clearness and volume.”
Turning his attention to fifers, Pfaff found different problems. He saw that while the fifer was playing and marching, the instrument was in danger of “slipping from its position in front of the mouth when the body of the performer is constantly moving.” He sought to correct this by placing a “ridge or protuberance” on either side of the embouchure, allowing the fifer “to draw the fife up without hesitancy or doubt as to proper placement against his lips.”
Pfaff submitted his written arguments along with a detailed drawing of his plan to officials in Washington, which was sufficient to convince them to issue a patent on November 29, 1864.
While a flute of the 1857 design is not known to this writer, two examples of the 1864 fife are. These were not found in any major museum collections, though; both of them, surprisingly, turned up on the online auction Ebay, one in December 2001 and the other in April 2004, and I bought both.
The fifes are quite interesting. Both are pitched in B flat and are straight-bore instruments with a tapered body. One fife has ferrules made from thin brass, the other has none. The tone holes are grossly equal in size and spaced more or less equidistant along the body. Both fifes are made of bird’s-eye maple, although the figure is more pronounced in the unferruled one. The lack of ferrules, by the way, appears to be intentional, as there were no insets spun to receive them; however, there are decorative lines scored at either end of the body in imitation of the lines customarily engraved on ferrules.
The embouchure on each fife is guarded bilaterally with the patent-protected ridges, which are sufficiently high to fulfill their purpose.
Pfaff wasn’t the only maker who sought to improve the military fife. On July 5, 1864, John W. Tanner filed for a patent to protect his “convertible fife.”
His design would enable the player to change the pitch of his instrument simply by substituting a second, differently-sized foot joint.
However, fellow New Yorker A.H. Stratton had already produced an instrument that accomplished this without the inconvenience of carrying two foot joints around. His patent, filed on May 2, 1856, described a fife made with a double tube. The outer tube contained 2 sets of tone holes, each set strategically placed along the body. By adjusting the inner tube, the fifer could access either set of tone holes and thus play in the desired key at will without the trouble of changing foot joints. While patient monitoring of Ebay did indeed result in one of the Tanner fifes, I am still looking for a Stratton patent model, so if you see one, post a note here and don’t bid on it!
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