Guitar Strings from the 18th Century to the Advent of Nylon (Part 3)

Types, Manufacturing Techniques, and Selection Criteria

by Mimmo Peruffo

In this third part of our study, we will examine the strings and the issues related to their manufacture during the 19th century.

The 19th Century

Premise
When beginning to analyze the question of diameters and working tensions of the 19th-century guitar, one naturally wonders why, unlike the violin and other plucked and bowed instruments, very few 19th-century methods provide indications of guitar string gauges, with the possible exception of Pujol’s method in the early 20th century. This is particularly striking given the widespread popularity of the guitar during that era. It is worth noting, incidentally, that even mandolin methods of the time offer precise suggestions for string selection, starting as early as the second half of the 18th century.⁷⁵
Sor, for instance, after a lengthy discussion on the correct technique for plucking strings, merely states that the luthier Manuel Martinez, having determined the appropriate dimensions of a guitar for a client, would simply ask whether they intended to use a light or heavy string setup and whether they preferred a bright or velvety tone.⁷⁶
A plausible explanation has only recently come to light: the diameters used for our instrument coincided entirely with those of the contemporary violin (referring, of course, to the first three strings), about which we fortunately possess ample information today.⁷⁷ It is highly likely that 19th-century guitarists considered this complete symbiosis with the “king of instruments” an established fact, a shared body of knowledge that rendered any discussion of the matter in methods superfluous.
A wholly analogous case has been observed with the viola, which used the second, third, and fourth strings of the violin as its first, second, and third strings, respectively. The only string outside this group was the fourth, which was wound like the third. Due to this common practice, no method or manual throughout the 19th century bothered to specify string diameters for the viola, as everyone already knew how to proceed.
With the transition from courses to single strings, the working tension increased to levels comparable to the combined tension of the two strings making up each course of the old five-course guitar. However, the tactile sensation of stiffness necessarily implies that provided by the two strings of a course together. Thus, for example, approximately 3.3 kg of tension per string in the second course of a Stradivari guitar equates to a single string of about 6.6 kg (with a corresponding effect on the tactile sensation of stiffness).
For a comprehensive answer regarding the first three gut strings of our instrument, we must turn our attention—more than ever—to the violin. This involves not only considering the musical treatises of the time, as other researchers have done, but also adopting a somewhat different perspective that focuses particularly on the technical information handed down by string makers. Indeed, beyond what may have been written in treatises and violin methods, it was ultimately the string makers who determined (or perhaps imposed) the commercial diameters of the strings of their era, a factor inextricably tied to the number of gut strands constituting a string. The information available to us for the 19th-century violin is summarized in the table below. The table clearly shows that the chanterelle—even well into the 19th century—was generally made from three whole lamb gut strands (though sometimes four, if they were thinner to begin with), resulting in an average final diameter of between 0.65 and 0.73 mm: exactly as in the 18th century.⁷⁸

This trend—namely, the use of three or four whole gut strands to craft the violin’s E string—continued uninterrupted throughout the 19th century. Here is what Maugin reports,⁷⁹ drawing on information provided by the great French string maker of Neapolitan origin, Henry Savaresse:
“Les chantarelles se composent de 4, 5, ou 6 fils, selon la grosseur du boyau, et chaque fil est formé d’une moitié de boyau divisé dans sa longueur. Les mi de violon ont de 3 à 4 fils pleins, mais très fins. Les la en ont le même nombre, mais plus forts. Quant aux re, ils en ont de 6 à 7 pleins.” [The chanterelles consist of 4, 5, or 6 strands, depending on the thickness of the gut, with each strand formed from half a gut split lengthwise. The E strings of the violin have 3 to 4 whole strands, but very fine ones. The A strings have the same number, but thicker. As for the D strings, they have 6 to 7 whole strands.]
Philippe Savaresse wrote in 1874:⁸⁰
“On a longtemps attribué la supériorité des cordes de Naples aux secrets de fabrique, plus tard on l’a attribuée à la petite espèce de moutons qui permettait de faire les chantarelles à trois fils […] La chantarelle ayant trois fils, si les autres cordes sont faites avec les mêmes intestins, la seconde aura 5 ou 6 fils et la troisième 8 et 9. […]” [For a long time, the superiority of Neapolitan strings was attributed to manufacturing secrets; later, it was credited to the small breed of lambs that allowed chanterelles to be made with three strands. […] If the chanterelle has three strands and the other strings are made from the same guts, the second will have 5 or 6 strands, and the third 8 or 9. […]]
It is clear that where the gut was split in half, twice as many strands were required. The information on string manufacturing reported by Maugin was replicated verbatim in other late 19th-century methods⁸¹ and in Angeloni’s Hoepli manual.⁸² The second and third strings were composed of 5 and 9 gut strands, respectively.
It must not be overlooked that the gauge of strings made from the same number of gut strands could not be identical across all examples. A certain variation around an average value is, in fact, normal, as individual gut strands—being a natural product—are never perfectly uniform. This is a fundamental point that is poorly understood today and warrants clarification.
Unlike today, where gut strings are produced in a wide variety of commercial sizes with incremental increases imposed by precise mechanical grinding (e.g., 0.60 mm, 0.62 mm, 0.64 mm, and so forth), the final gauge of strings in the 19th century and part of the following century was determined solely by the number of gut strands combined to create a string, not by the final polishing process, which served only to smooth the raw string slightly.
As reported in some documents,⁸³ commercially available strings were distinguished not only by the brand indicating their manufacturing origin but also by a progressive numbering system that denoted the number of gut “strands” they comprised.
String makers have always taken care to standardize the quality of the gut used as much as possible (seeking material from lambs of the same age, breed, and region, and carefully selecting the guts before pairing them). However, some degree of uncertainty—or rather, variation—in the final gauge was inevitable and could not be remedied, it was said, by manual polishing (which is not a mechanized grinding process). There was a tangible risk of rendering the string false due to the difficulty of maintaining perfectly uniform hand pressure during polishing with abrasive pumice. These workshops certainly did not have micrometers for final quality control.
Strings made from the same number of gut strands thus exhibited a range of diameters that can be well represented by a bell-shaped Gaussian curve (in other words, most strings clustered around a specific diameter, tapering off slightly toward both thinner and thicker extremes). The skill of the string maker also lay in ensuring that a package marked, for example, with the number “three” exhibited minimal variation in the average diameter, as well as a certain reproducibility across different production batches over time. This aspect was highly valued by musicians of the era, and it is not hard to understand why: imagine the frustration we would feel if the gauges in our preferred brand’s usual packaging varied each time.
An idea of the range of gauge variation obtainable from strings made with the same number of gut strands can be inferred, as previously mentioned, from the extremes of the diameters for the three tension grades of the violin suggested by George Hart: for the chanterelle, 0.65–0.73 mm.⁸⁴ This datum consequently provides an indication of the range of the first guitar string’s diameter at the time, as well as the breadth of the “window” of working tension available to guitarists.
As noted in the previous installment, it is intuitively clear that as the number of gut strands to be combined increases—to achieve greater thicknesses—the range of variation in the resulting gauge decreases rapidly due to the “averaging” effect induced by the numerous paired strands, as does the gauge difference between two adjacent strings in terms of strand count.
Scalar Tension and Tactile Sensation of Stiffness
To an attentive observer, it will not escape notice that the working tensions derived from the gauges listed in the table do not, in the case of the violin, result in a profile of equal tension—i.e., equal kilograms—but rather a scalar profile (Graph 1). One naturally wonders what secret lies behind this particular trend in working tension: thus far, we have only addressed the difference between an equal-tension setup and one of equal sensation under the fingers, specifying that the latter is, in fact, what musicians seek. The answer lies in the fact that scalar tension is the only profile capable of concretely realizing the concept of equal tactile sensation of stiffness under the fingers, a notion pursued tirelessly in treatises from the 17th century onward.
The scalar nature of working tension manifests itself to the touch as a sensation of equal tension across the strings because, by progressively decreasing, it compensates for the increase in tactile stiffness that would otherwise be felt in increasingly thicker strings. In an equal-kilogram setup, thicker strings under equal finger pressure tend to flex less than thinner ones due to their reduced propensity to stretch, creating the empirical impression that they are more taut than the higher-pitched strings. By progressively scaling the tension, this effect is compensated for, thereby making the sensation produced by the different gauges in use on the instrument more uniform. In other words, the strings will feel equally taut.
The application of a scalar tension profile is particularly evident in modern guitar string sets among strings of homogeneous nature (i.e., either among the basses or the trebles), as we will analyze in greater detail in the fourth and final part of this study. Graph 2 presents the specific elongations of strings of different diameters and types: note that the slope of the curves for thinner gauges is steeper than that for thicker strings; the ratio between the slopes of these curves directly relates to the ratio of tactile sensations of stiffness.
It is evident that the scalar tension profile is highly pronounced in the violin, which is tuned in fifths. In contrast, in the guitar, which is tuned in intervals of fourths and a third, the scalar effect of working tension from the same group of strings is far less pronounced, if not virtually absent. Consequently, while the pronounced scalarity in the violin leads to a subjective perception of uniform tactile stiffness, in the guitar—which is not tuned in fifths—there is an inevitable increase in tactile stiffness as one progresses toward the third string.

Types and Diameters of Strings
The types of guitar strings available from the early 19th century until the mid-20th century can be summarized in two main classes which, in essence (materials aside), have remained unchanged to this day: oiled natural gut strings for the three treble registers and three silk-wound strings for the basses. Compared to the 18th century, demi-filée strings (i.e., those with metal winding in non-adjacent coils) had practically disappeared, potentially making the timbral and dynamic transition between the third natural gut string (the most muted) and the subsequent wound string (the brightest of the three basses) more problematic—an issue still evident in the guitar today and only partially mitigated by the use of a wound or fluorocarbon third string.
Silk thus enters the scene. Not that it was unknown to musicians of the 18th century (see Corrette, for example) or even the 17th century,⁸⁵ but the preference had always been predominantly for gut, even for crafting the cores of bass strings. It should be emphasized that the acoustic performance of a silk-wound string is somewhat superior to that of a string with a gut core, as confirmed by our experiments (not to mention the additional issue of parasitic vibrations caused by the metal wire striking the gut core, a defect typical in particularly dry climates).

This fact—namely, the superior acoustic performance—may have been the decisive impetus for the transition to single strings and the shortening of the instrument’s vibrating length.
Before addressing the topic of diameters in use, it is necessary to clarify the evolution of the vibrating length and the pitch standard—parameters essential, alongside string diameters, for deducing meaningful insights about working tensions.
Vibrating Length
Following the addition of the sixth string and the shift from courses to single strings, and up until the appearance of Torres’s “enlarged” guitars (second half of the 19th century), the vibrating length of the six-single-string instrument stabilized at around 63 cm ± 1 cm, as evidenced by Aguado in his Method (27 pulgadas, or approximately 62 cm)⁸⁶ and as apparent in numerous surviving period instruments, both of Italian and foreign manufacture.⁸⁷
As previously mentioned, it is worth noting the proportional relationship between the vibrating length of the guitar and that of the violin (approximately 32 cm): the violin, being tuned an octave higher, has a vibrating length roughly half that of the guitar. Thus, were it not for the different intervals between the strings, the guitar would have the same working tensions as the violin in its three treble strings.
Pitch Standard
The second element to consider concerns the variety of pitch standards in use during the 19th century—in other words, the standard frequency of A. Gervasoni, for example, stated:
“Not in every city is the pitch commonly called the standard the same; rather, in some it is recognized as higher or lower than in others. The Roman pitch standard is indeed much lower than that of Milan, Pavia, Parma, Piacenza, and all the other cities of Lombardy; and the Paris pitch standard not only exceeds the Roman one but surpasses the Lombard one by far. A middle pitch standard, and one more generally adopted, is thus that of Lombardy: and it is indeed to this, more or less, that the pitch standards of various provinces approximate.”⁸⁸
Despite the fact that on February 16, 1859, the French government, the first in Europe, decided by imperial decree to bring clarity to the chaos of pitch standards by fixing A at 435 Hz,⁸⁹ in reality, it continued to fluctuate significantly—not only between states but also within the same location over different periods.
The supposed 19th-century pitch standard of 435 Hz, so widely accepted today, is evidently more of a chimera than a factual reality, certainly until the second half of the 19th century. In a letter from February 1884, Giuseppe Verdi himself suggested that the Italian government follow the French example:
“Sir, ever since the normal pitch was adopted in France, I advised that we follow suit; and I formally requested the orchestras of various Italian cities, including that of La Scala, to lower their pitch standard in conformity with the French norm.”
At the Vienna Congress of 1885, the pitch standard was officially set at 870 single vibrations, or 435 Hz double vibrations, a directive also adopted by the Italian government in 1887, though in practice, pitch fluctuations continued unabated. It was only with the meeting convened by the ISO in 1939 that a standard pitch of 440 Hz was first proposed. The rest is recent history.⁹⁰ For the purpose of estimating the working tensions of the guitar during this period, we will nonetheless assume a fictitious value of 435 Hz for A. The resulting frequencies are as follows:
E: 325.9 Hz

B: 244.0 Hz

G: 193.8 Hz

D: 145.2 Hz

A: 108.7 Hz

E: 81.5 Hz

As previously hinted, the gauges of the three highest-pitched strings of the 19th-century guitar were identical to those of the contemporary violin, referring us back to the indications of Stradivari and Corrette, who were the first to relate the violin to the guitar. Here, for example, is what Castellacci’s Method states:⁹¹
“Note pour la grosseur des cordes”
– Gut strings:
3rd string: No. 9

2nd string: No. 7

1st string: No. 4, with four strands.

Castellacci provides the number of gut strands to be used to make the strings, a specification remarkably identical, in proportion, to the number of strands (or “threads”) to be combined to obtain the three upper strings of the contemporary violin.
Thus, if we consider—based on the table on p. 12—an average diameter of 0.68 mm obtainable from four gut strands for the chanterelle, then 7 strands yield 0.90 mm in proportion, while 9 strands equate to 1.02 mm: these are the typical ratios of violin strings which, following the fifth-based tuning typical of bowed instruments, result in a scalar tension profile curiously coincident—in degree of scalarity—with that of modern guitar sets.
The method of the Polish guitarist Romuald Truskolaski, published in Warsaw around 1830–1850,⁹² is even more explicit in emphasizing the link between the violin and the guitar: “…the following [the first three strings, ed.] are as thick as those of the violin, and in the guitar they are called G, B, E.”
Based on this, the first three strings of the guitar must have had the range of diameters generally used for the violin (see table on p. 14), namely:
1st E: 0.66–0.73 mm (average 0.69 mm)

2nd B: 0.85–0.91 mm (average 0.88 mm)

3rd G: 1.10–1.25 mm (average 1.17 mm)

For an initial, useful comparison with today’s strings, here are the typical diameters of nylon strings found in various commercial sets:
1st E: 0.71–0.73 mm (average 0.72 mm) = 0.65 mm (if it were gut)

2nd B: 0.83–0.85 mm (average 0.84 mm) = 0.77 mm (if it were gut)

3rd G: 1.01–1.07 mm (average 1.04 mm) = 0.94 mm (if it were gut)

Here are the average tension values derived (vibrating length 65 cm; pitch standard 440 Hz):
1st E (329.6 Hz): 8.0 kg

2nd B (247.0 Hz): 6.4 kg

3rd G (196.0 Hz): 6.0 kg

The average values from the first table closely align with the commercial gauges of Ruffini (1880). Andrea Ruffini was likely the most prominent Italian string maker of the late 19th century. Hailing from Salle in Abruzzo, he had a robust production of musical strings in Naples and partly in his hometown. His market thrived: he sold strings across Europe, particularly in Victorian London, the second home, as is well known, of numerous guitarists.⁹³ Considering now a vibrating length of 62 cm and a pitch standard of 435 Hz, the range of working tensions is derived as follows:
1st E (325.9 Hz): 7.4–9.0 kg (average 8.2 kg)

2nd B (244.0 Hz): 6.9–7.9 kg (average 7.4 kg)

3rd G (193.8 Hz): 7.4–9.3 kg (average 8.2 kg)

Average value = 7.8 kg

Assuming this average tension holds for the three bass strings as well, a total tension of 46.8 kg is obtained, consistent with Aguado’s indications, who noted a total load of 80 or 90 pounds, i.e., 39–44 kg (1 pound = 489.5 g; cf. HORACE DOURSHER, Dictionnaire universel des poids et measures…, Antwerp, 1840; facsimile, Amsterdam, 1965), equating to 83% and 94% of our calculated value, respectively. The purely indicative—albeit significant—nature of these numerical values must be duly considered, especially since, while we know at least the vibrating length of Aguado’s guitar, we have no knowledge of the pitch standard he referred to. This can greatly affect the fluctuation in working tension, which, for a frequency variation of ± one semitone, amounts to ± 0.97 kg. As can be observed, these are working tensions that exceed all expectations and are quite similar—if not superior—to those of today, aside from the tension profile (as we will see later). The method of Maugin & Maigne, with its section on strings added in 1869, states:
“Pour les cordes de guitare, on emploie des fils plus fins que pour celles de violon.” [For guitar strings, finer strands are used than for those of the violin.]⁹⁴
Since the indications provided for violin string construction are—E: 3–4 whole gut strands; A: the same number but thicker, or 5 strands of the same gut; D: seven/nine strands—it is natural to wonder why, according to Maugin and Maigne, the guitar’s first string uses the same number of gut strands as the violin but of a slightly thinner quality. Why not make them with the same type of gut used for violin strings but with fewer strands—two, for instance, in the case of the chanterelle?
The most plausible explanation may lie in the fact that, with three strands, the diameter is around 0.70 mm, whereas with two strands of the same gut, it would be only about 0.58 mm—a gauge perhaps too light for the standards of the time. Thus, only three strands of gut slightly thinner than usual could ensure an intermediate diameter suitable for the guitar, in our example, 0.64 mm (the average between 0.58 and 0.70 mm, i.e., between two and three strands of gut, respectively).
The other strings (B and G) followed proportionally. As a purely illustrative exercise, we can attempt to estimate the working tensions of a guitar with a 62 cm vibrating length at the French pitch standard of 435 Hz (as established in France in 1859), for gauges that proportionally follow the scalar tension profile typical of the violin, starting from a chanterelle of 0.64 mm:
E: 0.64 mm: 7.0 kg

B: 0.85 mm: 6.9 kg

G: 1.09 mm: 7.1 kg

It cannot be stressed enough to the modern guitarist, accustomed to the precision and reproducibility of synthetic string manufacturing, that the data we report should not be taken literally but understood as indicative values, whether diameters or tensions. In this case, the working tension averages 7.0 kg, yielding a total for the six strings (assuming the wound basses follow the same criteria as the three gut trebles) of 42 kg, once again recalling Aguado.
Measurements of 19th-Century String Fragments
This topic immediately appears intriguing because the discovery of original string samples allows not only the measurement of their diameters (which can thus confirm or refute interpretations of period documentation) but also a visual and analytical evaluation of the strings themselves—specifically, the degree of twist imparted to the gut, the surface finish, etc.
The real challenge lies in the certain dating of the samples: a genuine obstacle. Indeed, dating via radioisotopes (a destructive method in itself) is not feasible due to the short time elapsed. Nevertheless, based on various samples collected for both violin and guitar—some still found in their original packaging—we can assert that they substantially confirm the accuracy of what has been inferred from ancient documents and experimental evidence thus far. Regarding the recovered string samples, those of Paganini (1782–1840) constitute by far—and in every respect—the most recent and interesting artifacts among the bequest. These items⁹⁵ consist of a violin bridge, two bows (one broken in multiple places), a package of Vuillaume-manufactured rosin, and a coil of gut strings [see photo] in decent condition.⁹⁶
Our focus is on this last item, which represents perhaps the first, if not the only, existing case worldwide of ancient gut string samples with a certain dating, traceable to the early decades of the 19th century. The material we examined in April 2001 was stored in an envelope stamped “Cartoleria Rubartelli Genova,” sealed with red wax bearing the symbol of the Genoa municipality and a handwritten inscription in black ink: “Strings and bridge found on Paganini’s violin at the time of its delivery to the municipality.” Inside was another envelope, made from a folded sheet, with a second handwritten inscription in ink: “Ancient strings of Nicolò Paganini’s violin.”⁹⁷

The string gauges were measured by us using a micrometer, and the measurements fully confirmed the typical diameters of the period as per the table on p. 12. As noted by the late Edward Neill,⁹⁸ Paganini had already provided interesting details about the strings he used on his violin in some of his correspondence:
“I need a favor: take every care and diligence. I am out of chanterelles. I want them extremely thin […] Though so thin, they must be made of 4 strands to hold up. Ensure the string is smooth, even, and well-stretched […] I beg you to oversee the makers and to do it quickly and well.”
In a letter sent shortly before from Naples to his friend and confidant Germi, dated May 29, 1829, he wrote:
“Your Paganini wishes to know […] how many bundles of chanterelles and how many of seconds, and with how many strands they are desired from Naples, because August is approaching, the right time to make strings.”⁹⁹
It may seem surprising, but the significance of this artifact lies not so much in the fact that the strings belonged to the great violinist but rather in their certain datability and their being… for violin (i.e., …for guitar!). It is not implausible to think that these same gauges were also used (can we say with certainty?) for our instrument, given that Paganini was more than a casual enthusiast of the guitar. The recovered strings, straw-yellow in color, fragile, slightly rough, and intact—i.e., never used—can presumably be summarized as two Ds, three As, and two Es for the violin.
The E strings are made with medium twist, while the A and D strings exhibit decidedly high twist: under these conditions, a gut string is reasonably elastic, and it is hardly surprising that they must have showcased optimal acoustic properties. Here are the diameters:
String E Diameter 0.70–0.72 mm Observations Medium twist

String A Diameter 0.87–0.89 mm Observations High twist

String A Diameter * 0.80–0.83 mm Observations High twist

String D Diameter 1.15–1.16 mm Observations High twist

This measurement appeared in only one string fragment

As can be seen, the fourth string is missing, which at the time was the only one wound. This should not surprise, however, as it was customary for the era that it be made separately by luthiers themselves (if not by the musicians) using a slightly thin second string coated with silver wire or a less noble metal.¹⁰⁰
Here are the measurements of some gut string samples found in the case of a guitar built by Louis Panormo in 1845 (vibrating length = 63.3 cm) from a private collection:
String E Diameter 0.59 mm Observations Medium twist

String B Diameter 0.83 mm Observations High twist

String G Diameter 1.14 mm Observations High twist

Regarding the E string, it was found to be inconsistent in its visual appearance and manufacture with the second and third strings: it is likely a later addition. A precise dating of these strings is not possible, though the owner assures that the guitar in question remained unused—perhaps for a hundred years—within its original case.
It may serve as a useful clue that the ends of the wound strings (equipped with a knot on one side and a spacing of the winding on the other) would not allow them to cover a vibrating length greater than 64 cm, thus ruling out setups for post-Torres guitars. Nevertheless, these gauges—aside from the chanterelle—align with 19th-century information. The similarity between the B and G gauges and those of the Paganini find (A and D) is evident.
19th-Century Wound Bass Strings
To craft wound strings, a manually operated machine was used¹⁰¹ (such as the one depicted in the first installment in “il Fronimo” no. 117, p. 28), in use at least until the end of the 19th century and later replaced by automatic winding machines or manual machines with synchronized tension from both support hooks of the taut multifilament (see photo below). With the system used in the 18th and 19th centuries—rotating from one side only—the appropriate amount of silk floss was fixed to a stationary hook at one end; the other end was attached to another hook connected to a weight, which ensured the material was kept under tension while allowing rotational freedom via a lubricated joint. At this point, the worker could wind the metal wire coils by rotating the silk core using a crank wheel.
Notably, the technique of depositing silver onto copper wire—a few microns thick—occurred through simple chemical displacement: the galvanic process had not yet been invented, as it began to take hold in the mid-next century.¹⁰²
Since wound strings consist of the pairing of heterogeneous materials like metal and silk, it has been agreed to characterize them in terms of equivalent gut: this refers to the diameter of a theoretical gut string with the same weight per unit length as the wound string; under these conditions, its gauge can be determined using specific mathematical formulas. At the same pitch and vibrating length, the working tension will thus be identical. However, even with the same equivalent gut, countless ratios between the amount of metal and silk are possible. Naturally, as one increases, the other decreases to maintain the string’s total weight constant—in other words, its “equivalent gut.” The greater the predominance of silk over metal, the more muted and less brilliant the sound becomes. The opposite occurs when metal predominates.
What selection criteria determined the right ratio of metal to silk in the basses to ensure balanced timbral and dynamic performance? In the guitar, unlike bowed instruments, this choice left little room for variation: once the working tension (i.e., the equivalent diameter of the wound string) was decided, the proportions of metal and silk were chosen to maximize the string’s dynamic output; to this end, the thickest possible wire was selected, and the amount of silk was minimized to nearly the breaking point—in other words, the aim was to maximize the metal’s predominance over the core. Only under these conditions could the bass strings deliver their maximum dynamic performance. Despite this precaution, silk-wound strings—even when found intact in their packaging—sound rather percussive and lacking in upper harmonics to our modern ears. Regarding the metal used for winding, the almost exclusive choice of silver-plated copper should be noted: ordinary copper with a thin silver coating applied to protect it from rapid oxidation, exacerbated by the sweat and humidity from the player’s fingers. This dispels the “myth” that a thin silver coating enhances the sound of bare copper. The choice of copper as the base material is justified by its combination—then as now—of the highest specific weight at the lowest possible cost, resulting in a wire of reduced cross-section. Some, at the time, could certainly use pure silver to advantage (requiring a wire of smaller diameter), but this significantly increased costs. Such considerations also apply to today’s guitar bass strings.¹⁰³ Here are the suggestions of Jean Baptiste Phillis (1804):¹⁰⁴

“Je ne saurois trop reccomander aux Amatours de bien monter leurs instruments; car la négligence de le faire a toujours existé et déprecié la Guitarre. Il ne faut pas que les Cordes filées soient trop chargées de Soye; cela les assourdit et empêche la vibration.” [I cannot recommend enough to enthusiasts that they properly string their instruments; negligence in this regard has always existed and diminished the guitar. Wound strings must not be overly laden with silk, as this muffles them and hinders vibration.]
Regarding the gauge of metal wire to use: “On doit faire filer le Re du trait N° 15, le La du trait N° 13 et le Mi du trait N° 12. Les sons alors en seront parfait.” [The D should be wound with gauge No. 15, the A with gauge No. 13, and the E with gauge No. 12. The sound will then be perfect.]
Now, let’s see Romuald Truskolaski:¹⁰⁵
“Too much silk makes the string too thick, thus it has a flat and short tone.”
And further: “…the first string E must be wound with No. 10, the second A with No. 13, the third D with No. 18.”
And now Castellacci:¹⁰⁶
Cordes de soie 6e Brins de soie 10 Trait pour filer la corde N° 10
Cordes de soie 5e Brins de soie 8 Trait pour filer la corde N° 12
Cordes de soie 4e Brins de soie 6 Trait pour filer la corde N° 16
[Silk strings: 6th, 10 silk strands, wound with gauge No. 10
Silk strings: 5th, 8 silk strands, wound with gauge No. 12
Silk strings: 4th, 6 silk strands, wound with gauge No. 16]
Particularly noteworthy—and unique in its kind—is the reference to the number of silk strands to be used as the core of the wound strings. While modern basses maintain a consistent multifilament thickness across all strings, in Castellacci’s case, it increases as one moves toward the lower strings. This results in an increasingly muted acoustic output. Additionally, the variation in diameter among the metal wires composing the winding for the D, A, and E is less pronounced than in modern bass string criteria. Finally, it remains unclear what a “brin” (i.e., a strand) of silk corresponds to in current technical terms, such as Dtex (decitex) or “Denier,” both units of measure for yarns.
As for converting the gauge numbers of the metal wires in these examples into millimeters, research thus far has unfortunately yielded no positive results, partly because the gauge numbering here is oddly inverted compared to convention—i.e., as the wire diameter increases, the number decreases.¹⁰⁷ Thus, it is uncertain whether these authors referred to pure silver wire or silver-plated copper, though examination of ancient string fragments and retrieved documentation leans toward the latter.
Now, let’s examine the characteristics of the wound strings found on the aforementioned Panormo guitar. The length of the wound string between the knot at one end (used to secure the string to the bridge via pegs) and the opposite end where the winding widens does not allow it to cover the length required for guitars with a 65 cm vibrating length (as appeared a few decades later), suggesting these are original samples for this type of guitar.
D External ø / Wire ø / Equivalent gut ø /

A External ø 1.08 mm Wire ø 0.18 mm* Equivalent gut ø 2.04 mm (green silk)

E External ø 1.26 mm Wire ø 0.26 mm* Equivalent gut ø 2.50 mm (yellow silk)

The initial diameter of the wire, which is silver-plated copper, is at least 10% greater. This occurs due to the elongation the wire undergoes during the winding process.

Based on our experimentation, the original starting wires should have ranged between 0.20–0.22 mm for the A and 0.30–0.33 mm for the E.
Using the diameters expressed as “equivalent gut,” the overall working tension values for the Panormo guitar’s strings at a pitch standard of 435 Hz can be derived:
E: 6.1 kg**

B: 6.8 kg

G: 8.0 kg

D: /

A: 8.1 kg

E: 6.7 kg

** For better alignment of the chanterelle’s tension (at least 8 kg in practice), a diameter of at least 0.68 mm would be expected. Nonetheless, this essentially results in an equal-tension profile totaling around 45 kg, confirming the data cited earlier and, once again, Aguado.
It is interesting to note that, starting from this period, guitar strings likely began to be packaged in specific envelopes rather than in coiled bundles, and an initial hint of autonomy from violin string packaging may be glimpsed in a catalog by Luigi Forni dated 1867:
“- Italian guitar strings per dozen……………..
From 30 per bundle from Rome, Naples, with 2, 3, 4 strands, 2, 3, 4 pulls……………..

National strings from the best factories……………..

For double bass, coppered and non-coppered each……………..”

It should be emphasized that until at least the end of the 19th century, strings were not sold one per envelope but in bundles of strings composed of the same number of strands.
Conclusions
The historical documentation retrieved clearly demonstrates that the 19th-century guitar generally followed principles profoundly different from what is commonly assumed today: in other words, it did not have lower working tensions compared to the modern guitar. The documentation of the time suggests, if anything, the opposite.
Moreover, it cannot be overlooked that the tension profile of the strings diverges significantly from that of our traditional sets: ours is notably scalar (as we will see later), while that of the time was nearly, if not precisely, equal in tension.
As if that were not enough, the bass strings of the era, besides being proportionally more taut than ours, used materials (silk) and followed metal-to-core balance criteria that would be considered entirely misguided by today’s standards. This resulted in a rather percussive sound, lacking in sustain and rich upper harmonics as we now recognize in bass strings.
Furthermore, small adjustments to the tuning peg were sufficient to cause significant frequency shifts in the basses, as silk floss is less prone to longitudinal stretching than nylon multifilament.
The gut itself—as we will explore more thoroughly in the fourth and final part—offers acoustic properties fundamentally different from nylon and, in some respects, much closer to carbon.
Thus, speaking of historical (or, as it is often called, philological) performances merely because a Panormo or Fabricatore guitar is strung with synthetic materials (following current criteria, not those of the time) seems, in light of what has been examined thus far, a somewhat bold assertion.
Yet the truth emerging from the documents, with its undeniably destabilizing weight for us, should not frighten us: rather, it spurs a desire to experiment, to explore new paths.
In a nutshell: the authentic sound of the 19th-century guitar remains, to a large extent, yet to be discovered. With this concluding note, we close the chapter on guitar strings in the 19th century.
The following century would mark, with brutal swiftness, the end of the millennia-long dominance of silk and gut, thanks to the extraordinary discovery by Dr. Carothers, a research chemist at the American DuPont company, and the decisive, pioneering contributions of figures like Albert Augustine and Andrés Segovia: the era of nylon had arrived.

75. GIOVANNI FOUCHETTI, Méthode pour apprendre facilement à jouer de la Mandoline à 4 et a 6 cordes, Paris, 1771. Reprint: Minkoff, Genève, 1983, p. 5.
76. FERNANDO SOR, Méthode pour la Guitare, Ferdinand Sor, Paris, L’Auteur. 1830, Madrid, Biblioteca Nacional, n. M2654, pp. 17-18 “Manière d’Attaquer la Corde”. “La montez-vous avec des cordes fines ou fortes?” […] “Aimez-vous le son argentin ou velouté?”
77. PATRIZIO BARBIERI, Giordano Riccati on the diameters of strings and pipers, “The Galpin Society Journal”, XXXVIII, 1985. See also MIMMO PERUFFO, Italian violin strings in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries: typologies, manufacturing techniques and principles of stringing, in ‘Recercare’ IX, 1997, pp. 155-203.
78. Here, for example, is part of a curious 18th-century recipe: “Libro contenente la maniera di cucinare e vari segreti e rimedi per malattie et altro”, “Corde da Violino, modo di farle”: “Take fresh castrated sheep or goat guts […] and to make chanterelles, take three strands and twist them with a small wheel…”. Biblioteca Municipale Panizzi, Mss. Vari E 177. Published by G. Bizzarri and E. Bronzoni, Il lavoro Editoriale, Bologna, 1986.
79. JEAN-CARL MAUGIN-WALTER MAIGNE, Nouveau manuel complet du luthier, 2nd edition, Roret, Paris, 1869, p. 184.
80. PHILIPPE SAVARESSE, Cordes pour tous les instruments de musique, in: CHARLES P. L. LABOULAYE, Dictionnaire des arts et manufactures, 3rd ed., vol. I, Lacroix, Paris, 1865, under “corde”.
81. For example, EDWARD HERON-ALLEN, Violin-making as it was and is […], Ward, Lock & Co., London, 1884.
82. DOMENICO ANGELONI, Il Liutaio, Hoepli, Milano, 1923, pp. 279-298.
83. JAQUES SAVARY DES BRUSLONS, Dictionnaire universel de commerce, d’histoire naturelle, et des arts et métiers, vol II, Cl. & Ant. Philibert, Copenhagen, 1759, under “Corde”, p. 248: “so that those of No. 1 are made of a single strand; those of No. 2, of two strands; those of No. 3, of three strands; and so on for the other strings…”.
84. GEORGE HART, The Violin: its famous makers and their imitators, Dulau and Co., London, 1875, pp. 46-47.
85. See JOHN PLAYFORD, An introduction to the skill of music… The fourth edition much enlarged, William Godbid for John Playford, London, 1664.
86. DIONISIO AGUADO, Nuevo Método para Guitarra, Madrid, 1843, Chapter VI, 26. “1 pulgada = 0.9132 of an inch”: see J. H. ALEXANDRE, Universal Dictionary of Weights and Measures Ancient and Modern, New York, 1867, p. 90.
87. See LORENZO FRIGNANI, Chitarre e Mandolini, Piccola collezione di strumenti italiani dell’800 e del ’900, Poligrafico Mucchi, Modena, 1998.
88. CARLO GERVASONI, La Scuola di Musica, Piacenza, 1800, part one, p. 126, footnote.
89. DOMENICO ANGELONI, op. cit., p. 281.
90. PIETRO RIGHINI, La lunga storia del diapason, Bérben, Ancona, 1990, pp. 23-24. See also ALEXANDER ELLIS, The History of musical pitch, London, 1880.
91. LUIGI CASTELLACCI, Grande Méthode de Guitare, Paris, ca. 1824.
92. Krzysztof Komarnicki, Warsaw, private communication to the author, 1998. ROMUALD TRUSKOLASKI, Szkola/ na/ Gitare Hiszpanska/ ulozona i ofiarowana/ W. Karolowi Kurpinskiemu/ …/ przez/ Romualda Truskolaskiego, Warsaw, 1820, p. 10. W. TOMASZEWSKI, Bibliografia warszawskich drukow muzycznych 1801-1850, Warsaw, 1992, Biblioteka Narodowa.
93. WILLIAM HUGGINS, On the function of the sound-post and the proportional thickness of the strings of the Violin, Royal Society Proceedings, XXXV, London, 1883, pp. 241-248.
94. JEAN-CARL MAUGIN-WALTER MAIGNE, op. cit., p. 183.
95. The material was discovered and is still held at the Archivio di Palazzo Rosso in Genoa.
96. The strings are presented coiled together and held tight by two red silk ribbons.
97. It is presumed that this bequest may have been delivered along with the violin to the Genoa municipality by Achille Paganini, Nicolò’s son, in July 1851 (see EDWARD NEILL, Nicolò Paganini il cavaliere filarmonico, De Ferrari Editore, Genova, 1990, p. 313).
98. EDWARD NEILL, Nicolò Paganini: Registro di lettere, Graphos, Genova, 1991, p. 80. Letter written in Breslau, July 31, 1829, addressed to “Signore Profre Onorio de Vito, Naples.”
99. EDWARD NEILL, Paganini: epistolario, Comune di Genova, Genova, 1982, p. 49.
100. FRANCESCO GALEAZZI, op. cit. 19, p. 74, footnote: “I believe it will not displease my reader if I here describe a small, very simple machine and indicate its use for winding and covering the strings with silver oneself.”
101. FRANCESCO GALEAZZI, op. cit. 19, p. 74, footnote: “It is known to everyone what a heavy and dirty machine is commonly used for this purpose….”
102. See, for example, WILLIAM NICHOLSON, A dictionary of Chemistry, II, London, 1795, pp. 820-824.
103. Paganini, for instance, preferred silver over other metals for his violin’s fourth string: “I don’t know if before, but after a week or two of staying there, I will return to Milan for your violins and have the fourths wound with silver wire.” (Epistolario, op. cit. 100, p. 67).
104. JEAN BAPTISTE PHILLIS, Nouvelle Méthode Pour la Lyre ou Guitare A Six Cordes…par Phillis Op. 6, p. 6, Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, No. Vma. 903. Matanya Ophee, private communication to the author, 1999.

105. ROMUALD TRUSKOLASKI, op. cit., p. 10.
106. LUIGI CASTELLACCI, op. cit., p. 92.
107. Marco Tiella, private communication to the author, 1999.