Bill's Stories: Maine Violin Maker #3

Joseph Schellinger of Poland, Maine

As I mentioned last time (see Bill’s violin tale #1 and Bill’s violin tale #2), Bill Dalbec is 84, with a gravelly voice. Based in Portland, Maine, he gives hints of having had a very colorful life, but in recent decades, dived into the world of hunting down, buying, repairing and selling violins. In many cases, he learned curious stories about the violins and their makers.

Today’s story is about another 18th-19th century Maine violin maker. Enjoy!

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Bill’s Violin Tale #3

I have another American maker that was equally if not more interesting, and his name was Joseph Schellinger.

He was from Poland, Maine. His parents had a farm, and they were friends with the Richter family, who owned the Poland Springs Hotel. They have a gazebo and invite a lot of musicians to perform there.

Now, I once went to the Arundel flea market. I used to work with a lot of pickers. There are not too many of them left around now, but they would pick the violins, bring them to me and I would pay them a profit. They very often didn’t have the ability to judge the value of the violin, but neither did I at that point in time!

So anyway, there was a fellow who bought a violin at an auction and was selling it at the Arundel flea market at his table. I approached his table and asked him what he wanted for the violin, and he says, “Oh, I gotta get $2,000 for that violin.” I’m thinking, “$2,000, this guy must be crazy, there’s nothing in the whole flea market here worth more than ten bucks!” Ever been to Arundel flea market? There’s a lot of antiques there.

So this guy, I’m thinking this guy’s nuts, so I walked away from him. About a half hour later, he hunts me down at the coffee table where I’m having a coffee, and he says, “How about 50 bucks?”

I said “50 bucks? I’ll take it!”

So I took the violin home and realized that it was another American maker, Joseph Schellinger. So here again, we’re looking at a really beautifully made instrument. How in the hell did anybody come to have these kinds of skills and talents in Maine?

I decided to learn more about this Schellinger. I went to the Poland historical society, and they didn’t know anything about him. So my wife and I went across the street to the cemetery.

The first thing we saw was a large granite gravestone knocked over. Now, I had been repairing gravestones for about five years in Portland, for Spirits Alive, which is a nonprofit that repairs the Eastern Cemetery. They run something called “Walk Among the Shadows” on Halloween, night tours of the cemetery, to raise money.

So anyway, I’m looking at this knocked over stone and it says “Joseph Schellinger” right on it. I couldn’t believe it. Another friend was with us that day, so him and I together stood that stone back up and straightened it out with some bricks, plumbed it up.

After that, we’re going home and we go by this road and the name of the road is Schellinger Road. So I said, “Well let’s go up this road!” Ironically, this road led us right to a place called Poland Spring House, which was another hotel. What was unique about that hotel was that it was created by Jewish people who were not allowed into the Poland House hotel. So they started their own hotel called the Poland Spring House hotel. They were on two facing hilltops. They’ve both burned down since then. As it turns out, my grandmother, as a 14-year-old girl, was a pastry chef at the Poland House.

So anyway, the violin became extremely intriguing to me and I decided to go to the library and see what I could research about it.

It turns out — I’m sure you’re familiar with Poland Spring water? Well, that was owned by a family called the Richters. They had a farm within sight of the Schellinger farm. So the violin maker’s grandfather had a sick bull, and the Richter said, “Bring your bull over to my farm, we have a healing spring over here.” So he brings the bull over and the bull recovers. Schellinger and him get together and say, “Well, there must be healing powers in that water.” So the guy that owned the property started Poland Water company, as a result of Schellinger’s bull.

So I’m reading a book by a man named John Gould from the Boston area, who was a very famous violin maker on his own. In his book, he referred to Schellinger as the Stradivari of North America. Pretty heavy label. So I said, “Holy crap, this is interesting, I gotta look up more about this guy.”

So it turns out that in his 60s, he’s not having much success in Poland selling his violins, so he moves with his niece — he never married — to Lynn, Massachusetts.

And there he was. His niece ran a music school in the house, and in the third floor of the house, he made his violins and cellos. Until recently I had a picture of him standing in his shop with all the violins and cellos hanging around him.

So one day, I hear a knock on my door. It was a classically trained violinist from the Lewiston area, where Bates College has a music program.

He says, “I want to buy a violin,” so I said, “Come right in!”

And he says, “I’m going to tell you right now, I’m not going to pay a lot for a violin.” And he adds, “There’s only one thing that sells in the violin business.”

I say, “What is that?”

He says, “Sound.”

So I say, “OK, there’s the cabinet. Help yourself.”

Which violin does he pick? The Schellinger.

I didn’t sell him the violin, I wanted $350 and he wouldn’t pay that. So I said, “Why don’t you meet me up in Poland for a celebration they’re having for Joseph Schellinger?” It was a benefit for the Poland Historical Society.

So we go up there, and ironically, Schellinger’s great-nephew shows up that day at the historical society with another Schellinger violin, so the two Schellinger violins play Ashokan Farewell for everyone.

I tried to get the great-nephew to sell the Schellinger to me but he wouldn’t sell it to me. Many years later, he called and offered it to me for $5,000 but I told him no, I didn’t want it that bad.

I tried to get him to donate it to the historical society but he wouldn’t do it. So I donated the one I had to them and now it rests in a controlled environment in the basement of the Poland Historical Society. A little white building right next to the town hall.

To celebrate the gift, we had a Schellinger night at the society, and we rounded up different players and a couple of bands, played music, and the society had a speaker there to talk about Schellinger.

He had left Poland at 62, moved to Lynn, and moved back 20 years later after he recreated himself in Lynn. He died at the Poland family farm in 1926, at the age of 88.