There appears to be a general consensus of opinion favouring the theory that Gaspar da Salo, the founder of the Brescian school of violin makers, who probably worked from 1560 to 1610, was the first to make violins in their present shape. Be this as it may, no mention is made of any of his instruments having found their way into this country at this period, nor is he mentioned in any way in connection with the adoption of the violin in this country, the probability is that our own viol and lute makers commenced a school of their own, although nothing definite seems to be known as to who they were. One thing, however, seems certain, the early English violin makers were far behind the Italians in point of workmanship. The English model was large and clumsy, while that of Italy left hardly any room for improvement. * * * * * * * * The derivation of the word fiddle[2] appears to be wrapt in obscurity, and must in no way be taken as coeval with the term violin. According to Strutt, the antiquary (who wrote a very interesting work last century on the sports and pastimes of the early English), the name of fiddler was applied to the minstrels or itinerant musicians of the fourteenth century. Chaucer, in his “Canterbury Tales,” mentions the term in connection with “The Clerke of Oxenforde.” For him was lever han at his beddes head A Twenty Bokys clothyd in blacke or rede Of Aristotel and hys philosophie Than robys riche or fidel or sautrie. In the “Vision of Pierce the Ploughman,” we read “not to fare as a Fydeler or a Frier to seke Feastes.” It would appear that as time went on, these wandering minstrels or fiddlers sunk very much in popular estimation, and were held in very low esteem, so much so, that in the reign of Elizabeth was passed an Act entitled “An Act for the punishment of rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy beggars,”[3] and amongst the malefactors amenable under this Act were included “‘Wandering Minstrels’ (other than players of interludes belonging to any Barron of the realm, or any other honourable personage of greater degree if authorised to play under the hand and seal of arms of such Baron, or personage”) the penalty being “such pain and punishment as by this Act is in that behalf appointed.” We hear of the itinerant musician again in an ordinance from Oliver Cromwell dated 1656, during his protectorship, which prohibited “all persons commonly called fidlers or minstrels” from “playing, fidling and making music in any inn, alehouse or tavern,” and also from “proffering themselves, or desiring or intreating any one to hear them play or make music in the places aforesaid.”