Benazet pourtant m'a a.s.sure qu'il y avait la toute la bonne compagnie de Baden.

D'apres cette epreuve, et quelques conversations, je crois pouvoir dire que vous ferez surement un ou deux bons concerts ici, et je vous engage beaucoup a ne pas rester d'avantage dans les environs sans vous faire entendre ici.

Mardi prochain je donnerai mon 2[^me] concert. Mercredi je partirai pour Mayence ou mon concert est annonce pour le lendemain, et vendredi je compte etre a Ems.

Ce que vous auriez donc, a ce qu'il me semble, de meilleur a faire, ce serait de venir ici lundi ou mardi, de jouer votre concert dans la semaine (peutetre jeudi ou samedi); et ensuite de repartir pour Ems, ou je vous annoncerai de mon mieux.

a revoir donc, probablement bientot, mon cher prodigieux artiste; gardezmoi votre bonne amitie et comptez bien sur toute la mienne.

Tout a vous d'admiration et de sympathie,

F. LISZT.

Soyez a.s.sez bon pour faire mes plus affectueux compliments a M.

Heinefetter et priezle de ne pas annoncer mon concert pour lundi ainsi que nous en etions convenus. Lors de mon pa.s.sage a Mannheim (mercredi soir) j'aurai soin de l'informer du jour que nous puissons choisir. Si par le plus grand des hazards on pouvait m'annoncer un concert mercredi, je crois que je pourrai etre a temps a Mannheim-mais il vaut mieux, je crois, ne pas forcer ainsi la chose. En tout cas n'oubliez pas de prevenir Heinefetter que lundi il me sera impossible de tenir ma promesse.

Ole Bull now went over to Brussels, where he had a warm friend in Monsieur Fetis; thence to Antwerp, the Rhine towns, and Heidelberg, joining company with Liszt. He then returned to Paris, but was soon called to Berlin, where he had been specially invited to partic.i.p.ate in the festivities of the coronation of King William (the present Emperor of Germany). He gave six concerts to the royal family and their visitors. In Leipsic he also gave six concerts, where the musical society, "Der Tunnel," presented him with a silver vase, surmounted by a figure of Apollo with the lyre.

It was in Leipsic that the Cellini Caspar da Salo violin came to him.

Mendelssohn and Liszt were dining with Ole Bull, when a servant placed by his master's plate an envelope bearing a great seal. "Open your letter, Ole Bull! it may be important," said Liszt. It was from the son of Rhaczek, the owner of the violin, and imparted the news of his father's death, adding that a clause of his will directed that the instrument should be offered to Ole Bull. Delighted, he told the news to his friends, who, when they learned the value set upon the violin, advised him to be cautious as to its purchase. "If it is really worth the price you mean to pay for it," said Mendelssohn, "we must dedicate it together by playing the 'Kreutzer.'" When it came, and had been put in order, Mendelssohn's suggestion was carried out. He and Ole Bull played Beethoven's "Sonata," which was the first work performed on that wonderful instrument. The following description of the violin, by Mrs.

Childs, is entirely faithful and correct:-

The violin, now in possession of Ole Bull, was made to the order of Cardinal Aldobrandini, one of a n.o.ble family at Rome memorable for their patronage of the fine arts. He gave for it 3,000 Neapolitan ducats, and presented it to the treasury of Innspruck, where it became a celebrated curiosity, under the name of "The TreasuryChamber Violin." When that city was taken by the French, in 1809, it was carried to Vienna, and sold to Rhaczek, a wealthy Bohemian, whose splendid collection of rare and ancient stringed instruments had attracted universal attention in the musical world. The gem of his museum was the violin manufactured by Da Salo, and sculptured by Cellini. He was offered immense sums for it by English, Russian, and Polish n.o.blemen, but to all such offers he answered, "Not for the price of half Vienna."

A few years ago Ole Bull gave some fifteen concerts in Vienna, with the brilliant success which usually attends him. The Bohemian, who went with the crowd to hear him, was an enthusiastic admirer of his genius, and soon became personally acquainted with him. Until then he had considered himself the most learned man in Europe in the history of violins, the peculiar merits of all the most approved manufacturers, and the best methods of repairing deficiencies, or improving the tones. But with Ole Bull, love of the violin had been an absorbing pa.s.sion from his earliest childhood. He never saw one of a novel shape, or heard one with a new tone, without studying into the causes of the tone, and the effects produced by the shape. Through every nook and corner of Italy he sought for new varieties of his favorite instrument, as eagerly as an Oriental merchant seeks for rare pearls. He had tried all manner of experiments; he knew at sight the tuneful qualities of every species of wood, and precisely how the slightest angle or curve in the fashion of an instrument would affect the sound. He imparted to the Bohemian amateur much information that was new and valuable; and this sympathy of tastes and pursuits produced a warm friendship between them. Of course, Ole looked with a longing eye on the oldest and best of his violins; but the musical antiquarian loved it like an only child.

He could not bring himself to sell it at that time, but he promised that, if he ever did part with it, the minstrel of Norway should have the preference over every other man in the world. He died two years afterward, and a letter from his son informed Ole Bull that his dying father remembered the promise he had given. He purchased it forthwith, and it was sent to him at Leipsic.

On the head of this curious violin is carved and colored an angel's face, surrounded by flowing curls of hair. Behind this figure, leaning against the shoulders, is a very beautiful little mermaid, the human form of which terminates in scales of green and gold. The neck of the instrument is ornamented with arabesques in blue, red, and gold. Below the bridge is a mermaid in bronze.

Thorwaldsen took great delight in examining these figures, and bestowed enthusiastic praise on the gracefulness of the design, and the excellence of the workmanship. Ole Bull was born in February, and, by an odd coincidence, the bridge of his darling violin is delicately carved with two intertwining fishes, like the zodiacal sign of February. Two little Tritons, cut in ivory, are in one corner of the bow. Altogether, it is a very original and singularly beautiful instrument. It has the rich look of the Middle Ages, and would have been a right royal gift for some princely troubadour.... The wood is extremely soft, and very thick. The upper covering is of an exceedingly rare species of Swiss pine, celebrated in the manufacture of violins. It grows on the Italian side of the Alps; for sunshine and song seem inseparably connected, and the balmy atmosphere which makes Italy so rich in music, and imparts to her language such liquid melody, seems breathed into her trees. Those acquainted with music are well aware that the value of an instrument is prodigiously increased by the age of the wood, and that the purity of its tone depends very much on the skillfulness of the hand which has played upon it.

As the best and brightest human soul can never free itself entirely from the influence of base and vulgar a.s.sociations in youth, so a violin never quite recovers from the effect of discordant vibrations. So perceptible is this to a delicate ear, that when Ole Bull first performed in Philadelphia, he at once perceived that the double ba.s.sviol in the orchestra was a very old instrument, and had been well played on. Some time after, the horse and rider that represented General Putnam's leap down the precipice, plunged into the orchestra of the theatre and crushed the old ba.s.sviol. As soon as Ole Bull became aware of the accident he hastened to buy the fragments. The wood of his violin was so old, and so thoroughly vibrated, that he had never been able to obtain a soundingpost adapted to it.

This post is an extremely small piece of wood in the interior of the instrument, but the inharmonious vibration between the old and the new disturbed his sensitive ear, until he was enabled to remedy the slight defect by a fragment of the doubleba.s.s.

One of the most curious facts in connection with this memorable violin is, that it was probably never played upon by any other hand than Ole Bull's, though it is three hundred years old. It had always been preserved as a curiosity, and when it came into his possession it had no bar inside, nor any indication that such a necessary appendage had ever been put into it. The inward spiritual carving has been entirely done by this "Amphion of the North," as he is styled by Andersen, the celebrated Danish novelist. The interior is completely covered with indentations in ovals and circles produced by the vibration of his magic tones.

Doubtless the angels could sing from them fragmentary melodies of the universe; but to us they reveal no more than wavemarks on the sh.o.r.es of the everrolling sea.

Some of the concerts on the Rhine had not been well announced and prepared, and the artist found himself just too early or late for royal visitors; but the feeling of disappointment expressed in his letters was only transient. In Dresden his wife and child joined him. He gave two concerts there, and then went to Prague.

February 9, 1841, he writes from that city:-

My time has been taken up by illness, parties, rehearsals, concerts; I have already played seven times in public here, five times on my own account, and twice for others. I play today and then rest until Sunday, when I play my new "Concerto in E minor"

for the first time. It is not yet finished, but I have time enough. I have met with such enthusiasm here as I do not remember to have witnessed in any other country.

Again, on February 17, 1841, he writes:-

I seem to belong to the world here rather than myself. I am invited every day to dinners, suppers, b.a.l.l.s, soirees, matinees, and the Lord knows what. If I decline, they come again, until I yield, and if I accept once I cannot refuse again without a plausible excuse.... My concerts are crowded and my own opinion (also expressed by others) is that I have played pretty well in Prague, especially at my concert last Sunday forenoon for the benefit of the widows of poor musicians. I played my new composition, the most difficult of all my pieces. It was finished Sat.u.r.day morning at halfpast eleven o'clock, the rehearsal took place at halfpast three, and the next day at noon I played it in public. I shall play it again tomorrow, making some alterations.... I have had flowers, wreaths, and poems thrown me; one in German, as you can now read it, I send you. Some written in Bohemian and translated for me are very beautiful.

The following bears date, March 1, 1841:-

I have just given my eleventh and last concert here, and although n.o.body remembers so successful a concert in Prague, and all ask me to give one more, as many persons could not obtain seats for this, I am compelled to leave in order to reach Russia in due time. I played a new composition, "Gruss aus des Ferne." It was finished only at halfpast seven on the morning of the concert. It was a success.... My warmest greetings to Prof. Dahl.[11]

[11] An eminent Norwegian painter, who was professor at the Royal Academy in Dresden. He was a warm personal friend of Ole Bull.

From Prague Ole Bull went via Breslau to Warsaw, where he played the "Polacca Guerriera." The youth of the city requested its repet.i.tion, but many told him that it only revived in the Poles the memory of their lost liberty, and he did not play it again.

From Wilna he went to St. Petersburg, where a serious illness prostrated him. He writes from there May 4, 1841:-

You ask me to give you a detailed account of what you call my triumphs. On the road from Wilna to St. Petersburg my carriage broke down three times; the mud went over the wheels, and eight horses had the greatest difficulty in drawing it out and onward.

There was no end of trouble at each station to get horses, although I had a _podoroshna_, or authorization from the government.... Thursday evening I played at the residence of the Countess Rossi (the celebrated Sontag), and you will like to know that I played well. I leave at once for Moscow....

Again, May 22d, he writes:-

I had some seacaptains from Bergen to dine and celebrate with me the 17th of May, at my hotel. They said we were expected in Bergen.... When it was known that I intended to leave the city without giving a concert, a deputation came from the orchestra, urging me to play.... I accepted on condition that they should arrange everything for me, that I need not be obliged to leave my room. This will detain me here longer than I had antic.i.p.ated....

I have to build castles in the air to try and forget that I am a prisoner, but I have often been thankful that you were not here to share the hardships of this journey with me....

As soon as he was able he joined his wife in Dresden, and they went via Hamburg to Norway, to his mother's house, at Valestrand, near Bergen.

This was the summer home of his childhood. For generations it had been in the possession of his father's family, and he afterwards purchased it, built a house, and lived there some ten or twelve years.

Ole Bull spent the summer of 1841 at Valestrand very quietly. In December he went to Christiania, whence he writes:-

For my encore last evening I gave them an improvisation on the National Hymn. I may decide to give a good number of concerts, as they are fighting like wolves for seats. The king is to come soon, and I should like to remain a little longer to see the good old man. Countess Wedel has invited me to spend Christmas week at Jarlsberg, and I am sorry that I cannot. Lowenskjold is extremely attentive to me.... The Egebergs are as affectionate and true friends as ever; glad when I come, and never complaining when I do not, which makes them still dearer to me, if possible. This family have ever had a great influence on my life; they helped me when I was in sore need, and gave me good advice; they encouraged and a.s.sisted me in every way in their power, and always without permitting my grat.i.tude to become a burden.

January 11, 1842, he writes:-

It was three o'clock this morning before I got to bed, as the actors at the theatre and about a hundred of my friends had arranged a company for me, which really was delightful.... When I entered the hall a chorus sang a poem written by A. Munch, to a melody from the "Polacca."... At supper your health and the children's was proposed and drank, and I responded with my violin.... When am I to be permitted to lead a peaceful domestic life with you and our little ones?

His first concert in Christiania was given for the benefit of the theatre. The banquet which he mentioned took place just before his departure. The following is a quotation from one of the local papers:-

Many songs and poems were written in his honor, and the warmth and pathos of the melodies he played so thrilled all present that they believed they had never heard him play so well. The guests accompanied him _en ma.s.se_ to his hotel, and cheered again and again.

The next incident of interest was his concert at Lund, where he went via Frederikshald and Gottenburg. The price of the tickets was very moderate,-one dollar,-but many were sold for ten. The people received him most cordially, and an address of welcome was made by the chancellor of the University, to which the artist replied with his violin. On his departure the students accompanied him in procession, and bade him farewell with songs and cheers. On the 19th of February he went to Copenhagen and Hamburg, where he gave six concerts to crowded houses; then to Amsterdam, where he gave six more concerts, and quite electrified the phlegmatic Dutch. His concerts were an artistic, and at last a financial, success, but it was a success which he conquered.

He writes May 2, 1842, from Amsterdam:-

What shall I say to you of my troubles and vexations! As I could confide them to no one, they have dwelt in my heart. Art is ever dearly bought, and the true artist easily deceived, for it is only by renouncing the material good that he may obtain the divine happiness of following the guidance of his imagination and creative power. To understand himself rightly, he must renounce all else, give himself wholly to his art, and fight ignorance and stupidity. I am not the man to give up the battle, but how many wounds and blows before one reaches the goal! The recompense art gives is a success even in failure. Last year Rubini and Madame Persiani at the same prices-it really seems impossible-gave concerts here to empty benches.

In June he returned to Bergen, via Hamburg. In September he went to Christiania to a.s.sist a Swedish artist, and in December gave his own concerts. In January, 1843, he visited Sweden, and Wergeland says:-

After giving concerts at Carlstad and Orebro, he arrived one night, at one o'clock, at Upsala, dragged in a huge old coach by six horses through the snow. Upsala, cosily nestled among forestclad hills, is one of the oldest and most remarkable cities of Sweden. One thousand years ago it was the princ.i.p.al centre of heathen worship. In the low temple, on the rude altar, the Vikings came to offer up to Odin and Thor the customary Yule sacrifice.

All the great movements in the Swedish history of those early days were inaugurated in this temple, and dim memories thickly shroud the place. Four hundred years ago the first Swedish university was founded. All the science, art, literature, and poetry the Swedish people have produced originated there; and many ill.u.s.trious names, such as Linnaeus and Berzelius, shed their radiant halo far beyond the boundaries of the country. Upsala now is only a student's camp. Libraries, lecture halls, laboratories, museums, and dormitories cl.u.s.ter around the cathedral, and all the life of the place has been absorbed by the one inst.i.tution-the University. Ole Bull came to Upsala not to give a concert, but to play for the students. It is true, as Jules Janin said of him, his violin is his love, his art his life. To express himself in tones and be understood is his one great joy, and he went to Upsala because the students have, and always have had, a great reputation for musical sensibility and musical education. But his entry was not very propitious. The night was dark, no inn was to be discovered, and the cold was biting. Suddenly a swarm of young students returning from a Christmas masquerade singing, dancing, and making merry, came along, and, of course, the large old coach and six became the b.u.t.t of their frolic. It ended in Ole Bull's ordering the coach to turn about and drive back to Stockholm.

This occurrence led to some misrepresentations and illnatured comments in the local journals, to which Ole Bull replied in a letter published in the _Aftenbladet_, January 22, 1843. After explaining the circ.u.mstances, and reminding those who had accused him of failing to keep an engagement that no concert had been announced, and that he was therefore free to act as he thought best, he concludes thus:-

Although I do not recognize the right of any man to call me to account for my conduct when I have wronged n.o.body, although I believe I ought not to be excluded from the universal right of a man to determine his own actions, still, I am willing to state briefly my motives for leaving Upsala without playing, cherishing the hope that a cultured and impartial public will feel and agree with me that it was something quite other than a freakish temperament which led me to take that step.

I had laid my route by way of Upsala with the intention of inviting, as I had done in Lund, the students of the University to attend my concert, cherishing the fond hope that the cultivated young men at Sweden's first University would kindly receive, through me, a musical greeting from the brotherland, and give me their approbation. Although the insignificant affair which took place on my arrival in Upsala of itself neither could so offend me that it should lead me to leave the town in "angry mood," nor seduce me to such an act of injustice as to lay the fault of a few thoughtless young men at the door of a numerous and honorable corporation, still, every one who intelligently and impartially examines the matter will see that it brought me into a frame of mind not at all in harmony with the problem I was about to solve.

Consequently, it was not anger on account of the wrong I had suffered, or illwill toward Upsala town and the students, but despondency and dejected spirits which led me so quietly to leave a town which I both desire and expect to see again under more favorable circ.u.mstances, for no one recognizes more fully than I that it is the aim and object of art to unite, not to disunite.