The c.1896 catalog does not picture either instrument (perhaps they were just too new?), but features on the following page the striking photo of Calamara. Bohmann proclaims that “This cut represents The Contra Bass Harp Guitar and the eminent guitar virtuoso Sig. Emilio Calamara, professor of the first Contra Bass Harp Guitar, made in America by the world’s Greatest Musical Instrument Manufacturer Joseph Bohmann.”

(For those new to the world of Joseph Bohmann, yes, he quickly proclaimed himself as “the World’s Greatest Musical Instrument Manufacturer,” though not entirely unmerited, as he won exhibition prizes year after year – seven, in fact, from 1889 to 1900.)

For more on Calamara (and his wife), see Emilio and Emily Calamara: A Tale of Two Musicians

This then, would seem to be Bohmann’s CBHG “prototype.” It has twelve sub-basses and one-of-a-kind headstocks. It looks narrower in the upper bout and waist, so may not have achieved it’s maximum size until the c.1896 catalog. Bruce and I conjecture that this was quite possibly the guitar alluded to in Calamara’s personal letter to Bohmann dated December 30, 1892 (at right), even though no details of the guitar were given. Calamara had been playing what looks like an Italian harp guitar of unknown make, seen in a single photograph in the Valisi Orchestra for some time prior to switching to the Bohmann (below).

(The story of how Bruce acquired this incredible material – and how much else is out there – is something I expect he’ll address someday soon himself.)

As wonderful as the Calamara image is, the key image in the c.1899 catalog is of Bohmann himself, complete with his own CBHG (or two):

This is a wonderful and important bit of harp guitar provenance. However, there are some aggravating conundrums on this page that Bruce and I simply cannot resolve.  Note the subheading that states “From ‘Music Trades,’ January 4, 1896” (there is even a byline – “P. J. M.” – at the close). We haven’t yet located an easily accessible source for this important periodical (not to be confused with “The Music Trade Review,” which is now online) to see what it reveals. The article indeed starts out as if reprinting a January, 1896 magazine piece.  In fact, it opens with a report of the Dec. 7, 1895 shop fire “a few weeks ago” that wiped out Bohmann ‘s entire shop and contents.

We speculate that by the third paragraph, however, Bohmann is coaching the writer (or writing this himself), and seemingly at a much later date (1899?). Surely only the relentlessly egocentric luthier would refer to himself (as the fellow in the photograph) as “Mr. Bohmann’s best working man, who has originated this great American industry.” This paragraph definitely appears to be referring to the center photograph, with the harp guitar “held between the knees similar to the cello” and “by his side...his son, Joseph Frederick Bohmann...” Problem is, little Freddie was born in January, 1897.  Barring an error in the Federal Census, this photo would have to be from perhaps late 1899 at the earliest?

Again, this exercise is (for me) simply to date the first historical appearance of these particular instruments, and – not counting Calamara’s prototype – somewhere between the late 1895 fire and the appearance of the c.1899 catalog seems to be it (note the statement about the “Bohmann harp guitar, now published for the first time...”). Or Bohmann’s instrument could be something that was built before the fire in 1895.  It all boils down to resolving the issues above.

The text  confirms that the twelve  sub-bass strings were tuned chromatically; at what pitch, we don’t know, but Eb down to E is the most logical guess. I’m still trying to hear in my head the musical effects described by “As a solo instrument, beautiful sweeping arpeggios can be made on the chromatic strings, and also runs in thirds and fifths not possible otherwise.”

This CBHG, built by Bohmann before 1896, has six strings on the neck and twelve subs on a neck of the same length (though the bridge lengthens the increasingly lower strings some). Interestingly, it looks like Bohmann may be color-coding his basses, much like Gibson soon would.  We assume his instrument has his dramatic and groundbreaking sunburst back and sides – judging from the instrument sitting sideways to the camera, which looks like another CBHG. Surprisingly, neither catalog mentions his dramatic and incredibly groundbreaking sunburst finish option.

This 1898 sheet music (courtesy of Barry Trott) depicts an all-female ensemble from Portland, Oregon.  The accompanist is no delicate flower – she is handling a full size Bohmann contra bass harp guitar! Hers also has twelve subs, with headstocks different than either Calamara’s or Bohmann’s. Bohmann made other normal sized harp guitars similar in appearance to the CBHG and with that same bridge, so it’s a little tricky to positively identify these without knowing the size of the performers. But in this case, the high position of the bridge reveals the much larger soundboard area below it.  

By comparison, Bohmann’s original 14-1/2”-wide harp guitar’s bridge was placed like this:

There are many more historical photos of Bohmann harp guitar players on my original main page, but none include instruments as large as the Contra Bass Harp Guitar.

When received, it had a huge added metal tailpiece support – so huge we wondered what soundboard problems it might have been hiding. It had also had the name “Linscott” engraved in the third fret position marker.

The family unfortunately had very little information on this fellow. The instrument’s caretaker, Shelby Norton, told me that Linscott “was my son’s great-grandfather. I do know his last name was Linscott; his first name may have been William. He may have lived on the east coast in the New York area, possibly Long Island. He may have played in some capacity as a professional musician or in a band or orchestra of some type, and may have also played banjo. He had a son named Elbert William Linscott (known as Scotty), who was also a musician.”

Bruce Hammond looked through all his original Bohmann correspondence letters and came up empty. Even so, I was somewhat shocked and disappointed that when the instrument arrived, “Linscott” was gone – sanded off by the owner who thought it was diminishing its value.

But see below!

It’s sad, because we can easily imagine that there was a wonderful story here – this was some custom instrument! The headstocks (which I have named “Mutt and Jeff”) look especially bizarre due to the design of this particular configuration – the same as the one Bohmann holds above, with its short length sub-bass neck and squat headstock. But on the Linscott, this is then coupled with ten neck strings, necessitating Bohmann cobbling together a full set and another two-thirds of tuners, cleverly fitted together. The tuner buttons are some form of the infamous and still-mysterious “Handel tuners” that appeared around this time. Note the two different Bohmann tuner patent stamps on the back plates, 427962 and 464912. The earlier 1890 patent covers his worm gear tuners, the second 1891 patent is for a geared 5^th-string banjo tuner (so no idea why he stamped that on the back of his guitar tuners!).

Why ten strings? Note that the four lowest courses are doubled in octaves as in the standard 12-string guitar, while the top two courses are single. As outlined in my article “The Birth of the American 12-string Guitar,” this configuration was a “new invention” of 1896 that quickly evolved into the full-blown American 12-string guitar around 1900. Odds are good that Bohmann may have been aware of this evolutionary “missing link” – the Grunewald-built 10-string. If Bohmann subscribed to the Music Trade Review, he would have had to have known about it. Or perhaps Linscott had learned of this intriguing new stringing option and requested it.

Happily, when restorer Kerry Char removed the added tailpiece, we discovered the top was perfectly intact and visually presentable. Of course a huge swath of the soundboard has been worn to “washboard condition,” as is the fingerboard – Linscott clearly played the hell out of this thing!

When Kerry removed the back, he found an even bigger surprise: Bohmann’s incredible lattice bracing. At left is as found – all original, with an added portion to the brace below the soundhole (above). Note the narrow bits of bridge plate portions with screws poking through, part of Bohmann’s unique pinless bridge (see below). Below, Kerry has replaced the top three braces and strengthened that compromised area with an extra layer of spruce.  Note also the full width heel block!