Ole Bull Part 6

Ole Bull gave two concerts to crowded houses in Ca.s.sel, and then went to Berlin. There were some difficulties in making terms for the theatre here, the king himself being proprietor and supreme manager. The musicians, moreover, were not favorable to Ole Bull, because of certain onesided reports of an intrigue against him in Stockholm, which he had wholly overcome, and which had resulted in making him more popular in Sweden than ever. Last of all came the attack of the critic Finck. When Ole Bull played in Berlin Herr Finck was ill, and unable to attend the concert. He sent and asked the artist to visit him. He went and played for him, and also explained his method, and the changes he had made in his bow. Shortly after he left Berlin the criticism appeared in the _Leipsic Musical Gazette_. Herr Finck said that the technique of the artist was indeed astonis.h.i.+ng, and that he was not lacking in certain points in his execution, as some had said. He found his tone absolutely pure, and his staccato, pizzicato, etc., marvelous and incomparable, but claimed that his art, when before the public, was artifice, a kind of astounding legerdemain. His chief attack was directed against his compositions. It might well have been thought a criticism against Paganini revived, so similar was it to the charges made against that violinist.

Mendelssohn wrote to his sister Rebecca, from Berlin, February 15, 1844, as follows:-

The musical public here are just like Finck, editor of the old _Musical Gazette_; they are capital at finding out the weak points of what is good, and discovering merit in mediocrity, which annoys me more than anything.

In spite of the animadversions of the critic, the public crowded the concerts of Ole Bull, whose only answer was through his violin. He traveled closely on the heels of the celebrated violinist, Lapinsky, the idol of the _Musical Gazette_. Whenever they met, Lapinsky was sorely defeated, and at last he determined to keep altogether out of Ole Bull's way. The latter next gave five concerts in Breslau, and sixteen in Vienna. His rendering of the clarionet adagio in Mozart's "Quartette in D flat, transcribed for Violin," was so much admired, that he was obliged to repeat it at all his concerts in Vienna.

Not a note of the score was changed, and the reverence for Mozart, revealed in his performance, made a very deep impression. It may be remarked here that those who have made the masterpieces of Mozart the study of a lifetime, who have edited his works, and dwelt upon the perfection of their instrumentation, have also said that Ole Bull's rendering of these, especially of the adagios, showed a deeper, more appreciative understanding of them than had ever been attained before by any instrumentalist. Ole Bull used to say that Mozart was his religion.

To him, there could be no more beautiful, no loftier expression of human thought and aspiration than he found in the works of that master. He felt that no mortal could write Mozart's "Requiem" and live.

From Vienna Ole Bull went to Hungary, giving concerts in Pesth, Raab, and Presburg. He purchased a rare violin in Pesth labeled "Antonius Stradivarius Cremonesius faciebat, anno 1687." This instrument was unique, being the only one which the master had inlaid with ebony and ivory. It had been made to order for Philip the Sixth of Spain, and remained in the possession of the Kings of Spain until the reign of Charles the Fourth, when it was stolen by the French. Ole Bull bought it of Herr Rorats, an amateur, who had purchased it because of its beautiful appearance, its tone not recommending it. But in Ole Bull's hands its n.o.ble and pure tone was soon restored.

He returned again to Vienna, giving five concerts to full houses. A critic remarked that his "Norway's Mountains" and his playing of Mozart had conciliated his few obstinate opponents, and united all voices in his praise.

From Linz he went to Salzburg, the home of Mozart. He had the honor of proposing and giving the first concert for the Mozart fund, and the great satisfaction of having the wife of Mozart present at the performance.

Being engaged in Paris for January, 1839, for concerts at the Grand Opera, he hastened there via Munich, BadenBaden, and Strasburg, giving concerts in these places.

He returned to Germany soon after, giving one concert in Carlsruhe and two in Stuttgart. The King of Wurtemberg gave him a ring set in brilliants. He also visited Ca.s.sel again, where two concerts were given with great success; also others in Augsburg, Bonn, Mannheim, Landau, Carlsruhe, and Heidelberg, after which he returned to Paris in the autumn of 1839.

A few extracts from letters to his wife, during this season of 1839, may be added here:-

PRESBURG, _April, 17, 1839_.

Instead of arriving at five o'clock we did not reach this place until eight; the driver got asleep on his seat and fell down under the carriage wheels; the horses ran against a post, breaking the carriage, and finally got away, giving us a good deal of trouble to catch them. The weather is fine, and I have taken fresh horses in order to reach Raab this evening. Tomorrow morning I shall reach Pesth.... The surrounding country here is most beautiful and the journey very interesting, many of the old monuments being well preserved....

PESTH, Sunday, _April 21_.

I arrived in Pesth yesterday evening: it seems that I was impatiently looked for. I waited a day and a half in Comorn for the steamer to Pesth, visiting the wonderful fortifications there.... I wanted a distraction from my suffering, G.o.d knows how much I have suffered! I still hope and work, not for myself, for you, my family, my country, my Norway, of which I am proud. Why should I dwell upon my sad thoughts? You indeed have more than enough yourself. You share with me the memory of our little Ole[9]

waiting for us on the other side.... You must come as soon as possible.... G.o.d have you in his keeping.

[9] They had received the news of the child's death soon after their departure from Copenhagen.

MUNICH, _October 19, 1839_.

A letter just received from my mother, announcing the death of our dear, good grandmother.[10] It occurred the same time that they received the tidings of our child's death. Mother tries to console me and sympathizes with you....

[10] His love for his mother's mother was one of the strongest and tenderest of his heartties. He loved, respected, and admired her. She had from his earliest childhood sympathized with him. At her knee he learned the folksongs and folklore of Norway. Her teachings influenced his thoughts and life, and to dream of her or his father gave him great happiness. Her dear face, he used to say, seemed to be near him when he played his "Mother's Prayer."

MUNICH, _October 21, 1839_.

My concert was a great success; it seems that the enthusiasm never reached such a pitch before in Munich. At Carlsruhe I called upon Baron Moltke; he offered to contract with the manager of the theatre for me. In Stuttgart I saw Madame Merlin and the Prince of Montfort, and expect the answer of the intendant....

_November 4, 1839._

I have so much to tell you I don't know where to begin. Mozart's widow was invited to Munich by the king to hear the opera of "Don Giovanni" performed. She and her sister made me a visit, and she invited me to sit with her in her box, that we might hear the opera together. The director has been working against me, because I went the evening after my second concert to a festival given by the artists in honor of the celebrated Schwanthaler the sculptor, who now rivals Thorwaldsen, and played two pieces. Germany's most gifted artists gave me their loudest plaudits, but the director, having been recently decorated by the king, thought I ought to have limited my performance to his establishment. He visited Madame Mozart in her box, turning his back upon me the whole time.

I afterwards told him my candid opinion of his behavior, and added that I would play no more in his theatre.

The artists and their wives made an entertainment for me later, and as they regretted they were not to hear me more, I played for them. I also played at the house of the celebrated painter Cornelius. The _literati_ of Munich were present, and it was a great honor and delight to me to be able to hold the attention of these men; but some of the aristocracy are not pleased with me, and think I have not bowed sufficiently low to the powers that be.

Day after tomorrow I give my first concert in Augsburg, and hope to give a second one. I am very anxious about you....

Having received word of the birth of a second son, he writes from Augsburg, November 16, 1839:-

My dear, think of my surprise and delight when I received the happy news! Let us praise G.o.d for his goodness to us, and let us hope that He will preserve our son to us! I write a large hand that your eyes may not be tried. I received a letter yesterday from Dr. Dufours, just before my concert, but was so moved that I could not write. I had to go out and walk, to catch my breath. Be careful, my dearest friend. You must not worry or be disturbed, for both your dear sakes. Dr. Dufours is a rare man, and I am proud to call him my friend. So much selfdenial, frankness, and honesty, allied to such force of character and originality, are gifts seldom to be found united in one person. Tell him how grateful I am to him, and that I can hardly wait until my return to Paris to express my thanks.

I give one more concert here on Sat.u.r.day, and then go to Stuttgart....

STUTTGART, _November 18, 1839_.

Your last letter has given me the greatest joy, but I fear you are not prudent enough.... I arrived here last evening; concert next Tuesday. A warm invitation from Nuremberg and Frankfort. My route will be as follows: Nuremberg, Wurzburg, Frankfort, Darmstadt, Mannheim, Heidelberg, Carlsruhe, Strasburg, and Paris. In Augsburg I received an invitation from the Queen Dowager of Bavaria to return to Munich. I played for her, and her manner at parting was most cordial. She gave me a pin set with brilliants as a souvenir of the visit....

FRANKFORT, _December 1, 1839_.

Now I am a moment alone! ... the whole day long one continuous reception of visitors! I dined with an old friend from Paris, Hiller, the composer....

_December 7, 1839._

You will find many alterations in the finale of my Bravura Variations. I have still much to do as regards my compositions themselves, and my playing of them, before they are satisfactory to me. I find every day that there are improvements possible, and grave errors to be corrected, but I have a firm will, and am trying to do better and better. It is very fortunate that none of my compositions are published; I shall take good care not to have this done for some time.... I bought a fine Nicolaus Amati in Nuremberg, very much like the one I left in London.... Its tone thrills me. Vuillaume will be astonished at its beauty. He must put it in order for me according to my own method. Should it compare favorably with my large Guarnerius, it will be well worth the eighty louis d'or that I paid for it. This would be a high price for an Amati of ordinary size, but the large form increased its value.

MAYENCE, _December 13, 1839_.

I have so much to attend to that I have no time to eat or sleep except when in my traveling carriage, and you know that does not give real rest when overfatigued from concerts....

I must correspond with the directors of the theatres; must obtain information regarding the people with whom I am to deal; I must make my appointments for concerts and rehearsals, have my music copied, correct the scores, compose, play, and travel nights. I am always cheated, and in everlasting trouble. I reproach myself when everything does not turn out for the best, and am consumed with grief. I really believe I should succ.u.mb to all these demands and fatigues if it were not for my drinking cold water and bathing in it every morning and evening.

The detailed account that has been given of the years 18361839, may afford the reader an insight into the life of the artist, his struggles, his labors, his inspiration, and his reward. Many, indeed most, of the seriously disheartening experiences which Ole Bull suffered, were the results of his lack of early training. No inexperienced woman could be more fearful of asking or accepting securities for business obligations lest it should be considered a lack of confidence on his part. He made no attempt to order his business in detail, but left to others what he could have readily mastered, always waiting for results to justify the enterprise; and this dependence was an unfortunate habit for a generous, sensitive, trustful man. It made him too unjustly suspicious after painful experiences. He was apt, when he found himself unfairly treated, to break off a business relation, without regard to the consequences, and thus often exposed himself to much annoyance and trouble.

His anger had no taint of narrow vindictiveness or revenge, but often served to free him from the toils of others. Then they might find him on the vantage ground of work or influence, to which his ready resources had led him, and where they could not follow him. He was not suspicious by nature, and lent too ready an ear to the suggestions or pretensions of others; his sympathetic nature and his needs making him an easy victim for designing persons, and giving rise to his chief troubles.

Curiously enough, those who had grossly betrayed his confidence often found that they could not do without the charm of his presence after once having known it, however they might disregard his interests and happiness; and they knew that he could not but be generous to a vanquished foe. He used to say, "I will not, because one man has failed me, expect the like of another, until it comes." His trust in the good impulses of human nature never failed him long. Leaving home at the age of seventeen, wholly untrained in practical affairs, he worked out many a problem of life, as of art, at the hardest-through bitter experience in poverty and tears; but the ideals and aspirations of his youth were those of his age.

On his return to Paris, in the winter of 1839, his engagement at the Grand Opera was broken up, through an intrigue of Schlesinger, the publisher of _La Revue Musicale_, and he gave a few concerts at the Theatre de la Renaissance. In the spring of 1840 he went to London, taking Mr. Morandi, a harpist, as his secretary; but finding him unreliable in some respects, he determined to break loose from the connection at the risk of losing twelve hundred francs, which he had already advanced to Morandi. The latter, knowing that he could hold him on his contract, acted accordingly.

One day when Ole Bull was playing with Franz Liszt, in the latter's room, the manager of the hotel was announced, who told Ole Bull that a policeman was outside with a warrant obtained by Morandi, and that the latter himself was standing at the corner of the street to watch the arrest. The artist spent a pleasant afternoon and evening with Liszt, and returned quietly to his own hotel at midnight, the officer and Morandi having meanwhile become tired of watching for him. The following day he went to his amba.s.sador, Count Bjornstjerna, and Morandi's lawyer was sent for, who demanded sixty pounds, for breach of contract. Ole Bull was indignant, and refused to pay a penny; but what was to be done?

It was two o'clock. At three he was to play at St. James for the queen, and at the corner of the street two policemen were waiting with the warrant for his arrest, if the claim of the lawyer should not be conceded. A cab was summoned, and one of Count Bjornstjerna's footmen, wrapped in Ole Bull's cloak, entered the vehicle and moved rapidly off, followed by the policemen; while five minutes later, the artist himself was driven quietly to the palace, in the count's carriage. In the evening the matter was compromised, Ole Bull paying twenty pounds, in addition to the twelve hundred francs already advanced.

In a letter to his wife, dated in London, May 15, 1840, he writes of Liszt as follows:-

I have not spoken to you of Franz Liszt, with whom I have formed the warmest friends.h.i.+p in a very short time. We have played together and are mutually inspired with admiration and sympathy for each other. You will make his acquaintance....

Ole Bull used to tell an amusing incident concerning Liszt and himself.

They had played a good deal together, often giving concerts without the aid of a manager. On one occasion when a manager had been employed, and many distinguished artists appeared, Ole Bull had been advertised with special prominence as the "eminent" violinist, but did not know of this. On going to his friend's somewhat late to supper, Liszt remarked, in a cutting tone, "Ah, our _eminent_ friend has arrived!" Ole Bull saw that the feeling of the company was not cordial, and that Liszt had only been the spokesman of their discontent. At last he arose and said: "I do not understand the drift of your conversation, but can readily see that my presence is not agreeable. I am pained in proportion as I have entertained the warmest admiration and friends.h.i.+p for you, Monsieur Liszt;" and he courteously took his leave. As he was walking rapidly away he heard his name shouted two or three times on the street, and, turning, saw Liszt running after him, hatless, and waving his napkin as he shouted, "My good friend, there must be some mistake. I beg you to come back, and let us discover who has played us this trick." He then explained the cause of their irritation, and Ole Bull, in his turn, made it clear that he was not responsible for the offense. Cordiality was at once restored, and Liszt was the life of the evening. At its close he insisted that the company should breakfast with him the next morning.

The invitation was accepted, and, after the breakfast and many pleasant topics had been discussed, Liszt suddenly turned to the manager, who was present, and said: "We have decided to have a trial. I am to be judge, and you shall be permitted to answer, if you can, the charges brought against you as to that announcement of yesterday." After an examination and cross.e.xamination, in which the man denied all responsibility in the matter, the judge p.r.o.nounced sentence solemnly: "Ole Bull, I charge you to take this man, and hold him at arm's length out of the window"-they were in the third story-"until he do confess." So said, so done; and, dangling over the street, the man did confess a plot to breed jealousy and illwill, in order to break up a combination of two names which, as already stated, had sometimes made the services of an _impressario_ unnecessary. The torment of the culprit was heightened by an occasional query on the part of Ole Bull if he was not soon to be relieved, as his arms were too tired to hold out much longer; but Liszt kept the poor wretch hanging there until the last moment, when he released him only on the promise that he would never offend again.

During this season, Liszt and Ole Bull played the Beethoven "Kreutzer Sonata," at one of the Philharmonic Concerts. There was a great diversity of opinion among the critics as to the performance. The Philharmonic Society themselves gave expression to their judgment by the presentation of a piece of silver plate to the violinist.

The following note from Liszt is a pleasant reminder of the engagements of that time:-

MON CHER OLE,-Arrive hier a 3 heures; concert a 8 heures et demi.

Leurs altesses le grand Duc de Bade et le prince de S. l'ont honore de leur presence. Du reste a.s.semblee treschoisie, aristocratique-mais non pas tres...o...b..euse.