At the time of the French Revolution, in 1790, this violoncello is said to have been still in use at the court of the unfortunate Louis XVI. On the 6th and 7th of October in that year the mob destroyed the whole magnificent “set”--consisting of twenty-four violins (twelve large, and twelve small), six tenors, and eight basses--to which it belonged. Two of the violins of this number were afterwards recovered by Viotti’s pupil, M. J. B. Cartier, and one of the small violins belonged to George Somes, Esq., in 1884. These fiddles, and this violoncello--“The King”--are apparently the only members of the “set” that survived the reckless vengeance of the mob. When one realises how easily such delicate constructions are ruined in sacrilegious hands, their preservation in the midst of the pandemonium, which reigned supreme at that time in Paris, is miraculous. After the Revolution a glimpse of the whereabouts of “The King” is afforded us by a pencilled note written by the father of its present owner on the back of the frame, containing the interesting slip of paper which has accompanied this violoncello for at least a hundred years. On the paper itself the following inscription is written in French characters:--“Basse faitte par erndre ermati Luthiér â cremonne eu italie en 1572. envoyez par le pape 3: à Charles 9 roi de france pour sa chapelle.--avec ses amories et se devise, pietate justicia.” Turning this little framed document over, the three faintly pencilled words, “Duport had it,” seem to imply that “The King,” during the Napoleonic era, was the property of Berteau’s gifted pupil, Jean Pierre Duport, known generally as “Duport l’ainé.” If this was the case, then this violoncello went with him to the court of Frederick the Great at Berlin. It is more probable, however, that it fell into the hands of Jean Pierre’s brother, Jean Louis Duport--one of the finest violoncellists of his day--as he became a member of Napoleon’s band and professor at the Conservatoire of Music. Another pencilled note in the same hand, at the back of the frame, stating that “A Hollander brought it to Betts in 1812, and he sold it to H. W. Curtis”[22] (afterwards Sir William Curtis) still further points to Duport, the younger, as its owner, for Duport was in sore straits at one time. This accomplished artist, it may be remembered, also held an appointment at the court of Frederick the Great, but when the defeats of Auerstädt and Jena placed Prussia in the position of a suppliant at the feet of Napoleon, Duport returned to Paris utterly ruined. If the violoncello had belonged to his brother it is possible that Jean Pierre may have ceded it to the more accomplished Jean Louis, and the latter brought it to Paris in 1806, where his misfortunes induced him to part with it to a dealer. The next we hear of “The King” is on the death of Sir William Curtis, when it figures in the catalogue of his musical instruments--which