Great Violinists And Pianists Part 5

Her father having taken her to America, where she fulfilled a number of engagements with an increasing success, she finally espoused there a rich merchant named Malibran, much older than herself. It was a most ill-advised marriage, and, to make matters worse, the merchant failed very soon afterward. Some go so far as to say that he foresaw this catastrophe before he contracted his marriage, in the hope of regaining his fortune by the proceeds of the singer's career. However that may be, a separation took place, and Mme. Malibran returned to Paris in 1827.

Her singing in Italian opera was everywhere a source of the most enthusiastic ovation, and, as she rose like a star of the first magnitude in the world of song, so the young De Beriot was fast earning his laurels as one of the greatest violinists of the day. In 1830 an indissoluble friendship united these two kindred spirits, and in 1832 De Beriot, Lablache, the great ba.s.so, and Mme. Malibran set out for a tour in Italy, where the latter had operatic engagements at Milan, Rome, and Naples, and where they all three appeared in concerts with the most _eclatant_ success--as may well be imagined.

At Bologna, in 1834, it is difficult to say whether the cantatrice, or the violinist, or the inestimable ba.s.so, produced the greatest sensation; but her bust in marble was there and then placed under the peristyle of the Opera-house.

Henceforward De Beriot never quitted her, and their affection seems to have increased as time wore on. In the year following she appeared in London, where she gave forty representations at Drury Lane, performing in "La Sonnambula," "The Maid of Artois," etc., for which she received the sum of three thousand two hundred pounds. De Beriot would not have made this amount probably with his violin in a year.

After a second journey to Italy, in which Mme. Malibran renewed the enthusiasm which she had first created in the public mind, and a series of brilliant concerts which also added to De Beriot's prestige, they returned to Paris to wait for the divorce of Mme. Malibran from her husband, which had been dragging its way through the courts. The much longed for release came in 1836, and the union of hearts and lives, whose sincerity and devotion had more than half condoned its irregularity, was sanctified by the Church. The happiness of the artistic pair was not destined to be long. Only a month afterward Mme.

de Beriot, who was then singing in London, had a dangerous fall from her horse. Always pa.s.sionately fond of activity and exercise, she was an excellent horsewoman, and was somewhat reckless in pursuing her favorite pursuit. The great singer was thrown by an unruly and badly trained animal, and received serious internal injuries. Her indomitable spirit would not, however, permit her to rest. She returned to the Continent after the close of the London season, to give concerts, in spite of her weak health, and gave herself but little chance of recovery, before she returned again to England in September to sing at the Manchester festival, her last triumph, and the brilliant close of a short and very remarkable life. She was seized with sudden and severe illness, and died after nine days of suffering. During this period of trial to De Beriot, he never left the bedside of his dying wife, but devoted himself to ministering to her comfort, except once when she insisted on his fulfilling an important concert engagement. Racked with pain as she was, her greatest anxiety was as to his artistic success, fearing that his mental anguish would prevent his doing full justice to his talents. It is said that her friends informed her of the vociferous applause which greeted his playing, and a happy smile brightened her dying face. She died September 22, 1836, at the age of twenty-eight, but not too soon to have attained one of the most dazzling reputations in the history of the operatic stage. M. de Beriot was almost frantic with grief, for a profound love had joined this sympathetic and well-matched pair, and their private happiness had not been less than their public fame.*

* For a full sketch of Mme. Malibran de Beriot's artistic and personal career, the reader is referred to "Great Singers, Malibran to Tietjens," Appletons' "Handy-Volume Series."

The news of this calamity to the world of music spread swiftly through the country, and was known in Paris the next day, where M. Mali-bran, the divorced husband of the dead singer, was then living. As the fortune which Mme. de Beriot had made by her art was princ.i.p.ally invested in France, and there were certain irregularities in the French law which opened the way for claims of M. Malibran on her estate, De Beriot was obliged to hasten to Paris before his wife's funeral to take out letters of administration, and thus protect the future of the only child left by his wife, young Charles de Beriot, who afterward became a distinguished pianist, though never a professional musician. As the motives of this sudden disappearance were not known, De Beriot was charged with the most callous indifference to his wife. But it is now well known that his action was guided by a most imperative necessity, the welfare of his infant son, all that was left him of the woman he had loved so pa.s.sionately. The remains of Mme. de Beriot were temporarily interred in the Collegiate Church in Manchester, but they were shortly afterward removed to Laeken, near Brussels. Over her tomb in the Laeken churchyard the magnificent mausoleum surmounted with her statue was erected by De Beriot. The celebrated sculptor Geefs modeled it, and the work is regarded as one of the _chefs-d'ouvre_ of the artist.

IV.

M. de Beriot did not recover from this shock for more than a year, but remained secluded at his country place near Brussels. It was not till Pauline Garcia (subsequently Mme. Viardot) made her _debut_ in concert in 1837, that De Beriot again appeared in public before one of the most brilliant audiences which had ever a.s.sembled in Brussels. In honor of this occasion the Philharmonic Society of that city caused two medals to be struck for M. de Beriot and Mlle. Garcia, the molds of which were instantly destroyed. The violinist gave a series of concerts a.s.sisted by the young singer in Belgium, Germany, and France, and returned to Brussels again on the anniversary of their first concert, where they appeared in the Theatre de la Renaissance before a most crowded and enthusiastic audience. Among the features of the performance which called out the warmest applause was Panseron's grand duo for voice and violin, "Le Songe de Tartini," Mlle. Garcia both singing and playing the piano-forte accompaniment with remarkable skill. Two years afterward Mile. Garcia married M. Viardot, director of the Italian Opera at Paris, and De Beriot espoused Mlle. Huber, daughter of a Viennese magistrate, and ward of Prince Dietrischten Preskau, who had adopted her at an early age.

De Beriot became identified with the Royal Conservatory of Music at Brussels in the year 1840, and thenceforward his life was devoted to composition and the direction of the violin school. He gave much time and care to the education of his son Charles, who, in addition to a wonderful resemblance to his mother, appears to have inherited much of the musical endowment of both parents. Had not an ample fortune rendered professional labor unnecessary, it is probable that the son of Malibran and De Beriot would have attained a musical eminence worthy of his lineage; but he is even now celebrated for his admirable performances in private, and his musical evenings are said to be among the most delightful entertainments in Parisian society, gathering the most celebrated artists and _litterateurs_ of the great capital.

De Beriot ceased giving public concerts after taking charge of the violin cla.s.ses of the Brussels Conservatoire, though he continued to charm select audiences in private concerts. Many of his pupils became distinguished players, among whom may be named Monasterio, Standish, Lauterbach, and, chief of all, Henri Vieuxtemps, with whose precocious talents he was so much pleased that he gave him lessons gratuitously.

During his life at Brussels, and indeed during the whole of his career, De Beriot enjoyed the friendship and esteem of many of the most distinguished men of the day, among his most intimate friends and admirers having been Prince de Chimay, the Russian Prince Youssoupoff, and King Leopold I, of Belgium. The latter part of his life was not un-laborious in composition, but otherwise of affluent and elegant ease.

During the last two years his eyesight failed him, and he gradually became totally blind. He died, April 13, 1870, at the age of sixty-eight, while visiting his friend Prince Youssoupoff at St.

Petersburg, of the brain malady which had long been making fatal inroads on his health.

In originality as a composer for the violin, probably no one can surpa.s.s De Beriot except Paganini, who exerted a remarkable modifying influence on him after he had formed his own first style. His works are full of grace and poetic feeling, and worked out with an intellectual completeness of form which gives him an honorable distinction even among those musicians marked by affluence of ideas. These compositions are likely to be among the violin cla.s.sics, though some of the violinists of the Spohr school have criticised them for want of depth. He produced seven concertos, eleven _airs varies_, several books of studies, four trios for piano, violin, and 'cello, and, together with Osborne, Thalberg, and other pianists, a number of brilliant duos for piano and violin. His book of instruction for the violin is among the best ever written, though somewhat diffuse in detail. He may be considered the founder of the Franco-Belgian school of violinists, as distinguished from the cla.s.sical French school founded by Viotti, and ill.u.s.trated by Rode and Baillot. His early playing was molded entirely in this style, but the dazzling example of Paganini, in course of time, had its effect on him, as he soon adopted the captivating effects of harmonics, arpeggios, pizzicatos, etc., which the Genoese had introduced, though he stopped short of sacrificing his breadth and richness of tone. He combined the Paganini school with that of Viotti, and gave status to a peculiar _genre_ of players, in which may be numbered such great virtuosos as Vieuxtemps and Wieniawski, who successively occupied the same professional place formerly ill.u.s.trated by De Beriot, and the latter of whom recently died. De Beriot's playing was noted for accuracy of intonation, remarkable deftness and facility in bowing, grace, elegance, and piquancy, though he never succeeded in creating the unbounded enthusiasm which everywhere greeted Paganini.

OLE BULL.

The Birth and Early Life of Ole Bull at Bergen, Norway.--His Family and Connections.--Surroundings of his Boyhood.--Early Display of his Musical Pa.s.sion.--Learns the Violin without Aid.--Takes Lessons from an Old Musical Professor, and soon surpa.s.ses his Master.--Anecdotes of his Boyhood.--His Father's Opposition to Music as a Profession.--Competes for Admittance to the University at Christiania.--Is consoled for Failure by a Learned Professor.--"Better be a Fiddler than a Preacher."--Becomes Conductor of the Philharmonic Society at Bergen.--His first Musical Journey.--Sees Spohr.--Fights a Duel.--Visit to Paris.--He is reduced to Great Pecuniary Straits.--Strange Adventure with Vidocq, the Great Detective.--First Appearance in Concert in Paris.--Romantic Adventure leading to Acquaintance.--First Appearance in Italy.--Takes the Place of Do Beriot by Great Good Luck.--Ole Bull is most enthusiastically received.--Extended Concert Tour in Italy and France.--His _Debut_ and Success in England.--One Hundred and Eighty Concerts in Six Months.--Ole Bull's Gaspar di Salo Violin, and the Circ.u.mstances under which he acquired it.--His Answer to the King of Sweden.--First Visit and Great Success in America in 1843.--Attempt to establish a National Theatre.--The Norwegian Colony in Pennsylvania.--Latter Years of Ole Bull.--His Personal Appearance.--Art Characteristics.

I.

The life of Olaus Bull, or Ole Bull, as he is generally known to the world, was not only of much interest in its relation to music, but singularly full of vicissitude and adventure. He was born at Bergen, Norway, February 5, 1810, of one of the leading families of that resort of shippers, timber-dealers, and fishermen. His father, John Storm Bull, was a pharmaceutist, and among his ancestors he numbered the Norwegian poet Edward Storm, author of the "Sinclair Lay," an epic on the fate of Colonel Sinclair, who with a thousand Hebridean and Scotch pirates, made a descent on the Norwegian coast, thus emulating the Vikingr forefathers of the Norwegians themselves. The peasants slew them to a man by rolling rocks down on them from the fearful pa.s.s of the Gulbrands Dahl, and the event has been celebrated both by the poet's lay and the painter's brush. By the mother's side Ole Bull came of excellent Dutch stock, three of his uncles being captains in the army and navy, and another a journalist of repute. A pa.s.sion for music was inherent in the family, and the editor had occasional quartet parties at his house, where the works of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven were given, much to the delight of young Ole, who was often present at these festive occasions.

The romantic and ardent imagination of the boy was fed by the weird legends familiar to every Norwegian nursery. The Scheherezade of this occasion was the boy's own grandmother, who told him with hushed breath the fairy folk-lore of the mysterious Huldra and the Fossikal, or Spirit of the Waterfall, and Ole Bull, with his pa.s.sion for music, was wont to fancy that the music of the rushing waters was the singing of the violins played by fairy artists. From an early age this Greek pa.s.sion for personifying all the sights and sounds of nature manifested itself noticeably, but always in some way connected with music. He would fancy even that he could hear the bluebells and violets singing, and perfume and color translated themselves into a.n.a.logies of sound. This poetic imagination grew with his years and widened with his experience, becoming the cardinal motive of Ole Bull's art life. For a long time the young boy had longed for a violin of his own, and finally his uncle who gave the musical parties presented him with a violin. Ole worked so hard in practicing on his new treasure that he was soon able to take part in the little concerts.

There happened to be at this time in Bergen a professor of music named Paulsen, who also played skillfully on the violin. Originally from Denmark, he had come to Bergen on business, but, finding the brandy so good and cheap, and his musical talent so much appreciated, he postponed his departure so long that he became a resident. Paulsen, it was said, would show his perseverance in playing as long as there remained a drop in the brandy bottle before him, when his musical ambition came to a sudden close. When the old man, for he was more than sixty when young Ole Bull first knew him, had worn his clothes into a threadbare state, his friends would supply him with a fresh suit, and at intervals he gave concerts, which every one thought it a religious duty to attend. It was to this Dominie Sampson that Ole Bull was indebted for his earliest musical training; but it seems that the lad made such swift progress that his master soon had nothing further to teach him. Poor old Paulsen was in despair, for in his bright pupil he saw a successful rival, and, fearing that his occupation was gone, he left Bergen for ever.

In spite of the boy's most manifest genius for music, his father was bent on making him a clergyman, going almost to the length of forbidding him to practice any longer on the dearly loved fiddle, which had now become a part of himself; but Ole persevered, and played at night softly, in constant fear that the sounds would be heard. But his mother and grandmother sympathized with him, and encouraged his labors of love in spite of the paternal frowns. The author of a recent article in an American magazine relates an interview with Ole Bull, in which the aged artist gave some interesting facts of that early period in his life.

His father's a.s.sistant, who was musical, occasionally received musical catalogues from Copenhagen, and in one of these the boy first saw the name of Paganini, and reference to his famous "Caprices." One evening his father brought home some Italian musicians, and Ole Bull heard from them all they knew of the great player, who was then turning the musical world topsy-turvy with a fever of excitement. "I went to my grandmother.

'Dear grandmother,' I said, 'can't I get some of Paganini's music?'

'Don't tell any one,' said that dear old woman, 'but I will try and buy a piece of his for you if you are a good child.' And she did try, and I was wild when I got the Paganini music. How difficult it was, but oh, how beautiful! That garden-house was my refuge. Maybe--I am not so sure of it--the cats did not go quite so wild as some four years before. One day--a memorable one--I went to a quartet party. The new leader of our philharmonic was there, a very fine violinist, and he played for us a concerto of Spohr's. I knew it, and was delighted with his reading of it. We had porter to drink in another room, and we all drank it, but before they had finished I went back to the music-room, and commenced trying the Spohr. I was, I suppose, carried away with the music, forgot myself, and they heard me.

"'This is impudence,' said the leader. 'And do you think, boy, that you can play it?' 'Yes,' I said, quite honestly. I don't to this day see why I should have told a story about it--do you? 'Now you shall play it,'

said somebody. 'Hear him! hear him!' cried my uncle and the rest of them. I did try it, and played the allegro. All of them applauded save the leader, who looked mad.

"'You think you can play anything, then?' asked the leader. He took a caprice of Paganini's from a music stand. 'Now you try this,' he said, in a rage. 'I will try it,' I said. 'All right; go ahead.'

"Now it just happened that this caprice was my favorite, as the cats well knew. I could play it by memory, and I polished it off. When I did that, they all shouted. The leader before had been so cross and savage, I thought he would just rave now. But he did not say a word. He looked very quiet and composed like. He took the other musicians aside, and I saw that he was talking to them. Not long afterward this violinist left Bergen. I never thought I would see him again. It was in 1840, when I was traveling through Sweden on a concert tour, of a snowy day, that I met a man in a sleigh. It was quite a picture: just near sunset, and the northern lights were shooting in the sky; a man wrapped up in a bear-skin a-tracking along the snow. As he drew up abreast of me and unm.u.f.fled himself, he called out to my driver to stop. It was the leader, and he said to me, 'Well, now that you are a celebrated violinist, remember that, when I heard you play Paganini, I predicted that your career would be a remarkable one.' 'You were mistaken,' I cried, jumping up; 'I did not read that Paganini at sight; I had played it before.' 'It makes no difference; good-by,' and he urged on his horse, and in a minute the leader was gone."

II.

To please his father, Ole Bull studied a.s.siduously to fit himself for the preliminary examination of the university, but he found time also to pursue his beloved music. At the age of eighteen he was entered at the University of Christiania as a candidate for admission, and went to that city somewhat in advance of the day of ordeal to finish his studies.

He had hardly entered Christiania before he was seduced to play at a concert, which beginning gave full play to the music-madness beyond all self-restraint. As a result Ole Bull was "plucked," and at first he did not dare write to his father of this downfall of the hopes of the paternal Bull.

We are told that he found consolation from one of the very professors who had plucked him. "It's the best thing could have happened to you,"

said the latter, by way of encouragement.

"How so?" inquired Ole.

"My dear fellow," was the reply, "do you believe you are a fit man for a curacy in Finmarken or a mission among the Laps? Nature has made you a musician; stick to your violin, and you will never regret it."

"But my father, think of his disappointed hopes," said Ole Bull.

"Your father will never regret it either," answered the professor.

As good fortune ordered for the forlorn youth, his musical friends did not desert him, but secured for him the temporary position of director of the Philharmonic Society of Christiania, the regular inc.u.mbent being ill. On the death of the latter shortly afterward, Ole Bull was tendered the place. As the new duties were very well paid, and relieved the youth from dependence on his father's purse, further opposition to his musical career was withdrawn.

In the summer of 1829 Ole Bull made a holiday trip into Germany, and heard Dr. Spohr, then director of the opera at Ca.s.sel. "From this excursion," said one of Ole Bull's friends, "he returned completely disappointed. He had fancied that a violin-player like Spohr must be a man who, by his personal appearance, by the poetic character of his performance, or by the flash of genius, would enchant and overwhelm his hearers. Instead of this, he found in Spohr a correct teacher, exacting from the young Norwegian the same cool precision which characterized his own performance, and quite unable to appreciate the wild, strange melodies he brought from the land of the North." Spohr was a man of clock-work mechanism in all his methods and theories--young Ole Bull was all poetry, romance, and enthusiasm.

At Minden our young violinist met with an adventure not of the pleasantest sort. He had joined a party of students about to give a concert at that place, and was persuaded to take the place of the violinist of the party, who had been rather free in his libations, and became "a victim of the rosy G.o.d." Ole Bull was very warmly applauded at the concert, and so much nettled was the student whose failure had made the vacancy for Ole Bull's talent, that the latter received a challenge to fight a duel, which was promptly accepted. Ole Bull proved that he could handle a sword as well as a fiddle-bow, for in a few pa.s.ses he wounded and disabled his antagonist. He was advised, however, to leave that locality as soon as possible, and so he returned straight to Christiania, "feeling as if the very soil of Europe repelled him" (to use an expression from one of his letters).

Ole Bull remained in Norway for two years, but he felt that he must bestir himself, and go to the great centers of musical culture if he would find a proper development and field for the genius which he believed he possessed. His friends at Christiania idolized him, and were loath to let him go, but nothing could stay him, so with pilgrim's staff and violin-case he started on his journey. Scarcely twenty-one years of age, nearly penniless, with no letters of introduction to people who could help him, but with boundless hope and resolution, he first set foot in Paris in 1831. The town was agog over Paganini and Mme.

Malibran, and of course the first impulse of the young artist was to hear these great people. One night he returned from hearing Malibran, and went to bed so late that he slept till nearly noon the next day. To his infinite consternation, he discovered that his landlord had decamped during the early morning, taking away the household furniture of any value, and even abstracting the modest trunk which contained Ole Bull's clothes and his violin. After such an overwhelming calamity as this, the Seine seemed the only resource, and the young Norwegian, it is said, had nearly concluded to find relief from his troubles in its turbid and sin-weighted waters. But it happened that the young man had still a little money left, enough to support him for a week, and he concluded to delay the fatal plunge till the last sou was gone. It was while he was slowly enjoying the last dinner which he was able to pay for, that he made the acquaintance of a remarkable character, to whom he confided his misery and his determination to find a tomb in the Seine.

III.

Said the stranger, after pondering a few moments over the simple but sad story of the young violinist, in whom he had taken a sudden interest:

"Well, I will do something for you, if you have courage and five francs."

"I have both."

"Then go to Frascate's at ten; pa.s.s through the first room, enter the second, where they play 'rouge-et-noir,' and when a new _taille_ begins put your five francs on _rouge_, and leave it there."

This promise of an adventure revived Ole Bull's drooping spirits, and he was faithful in carrying out his unknown friend's instructions. At the precise hour the tall stalwart figure of the young Norwegian bent over the table at Frascate's, while the game of "rouge-et-noir" was being played. He threw his five francs on red; the card was drawn--red wins, and the five francs were ten. Again Ole Bull bet his ten francs on _rouge_, and again he won; and so he continued, leaving his money on the same color till a considerable amount of money lay before him. By this time the spirit of gaming was thoroughly aroused. Should he leave the money and trust to red turning up again, or withdraw the pile of gold and notes, satisfied with the kindness of Fortune, without further tempting the fickle G.o.ddess? He said to a friend afterward, in relating his feelings on this occasion:

"I was in a fear--I acted as if possessed by a spirit not my own; no one can understand my feelings who has not been so tried--left alone in the world, as if on the extreme verge of an abyss yawning beneath, and at the same time feeling something within that might merit a saving hand at the last moment."

Ole Bull stretched forth to grasp the money, when a white hand covered it before his. He seized the wrist with a fierce grasp, while the owner of it uttered a loud shriek, and loud threats came from the other players, who took sides in the matter, when a dark figure suddenly appeared on the scene, and spoke in a voice whose tones carried with them a magic authority which stilled all tumult at once. "Madame, leave this gold alone!"--and to Ole Bull: "Sir, take your money, if you please." The winner of an amount which had become very considerable lingered a few moments to see the further results of the play, and, much to his disgust, discovered that he would have possessed quite a little fortune had he left his pile undisturbed for one more turn of the cards.

He was consoled, however, on arriving at his miserable lodgings, for he could scarcely believe that this stroke of good luck was true, and yet there was something repulsive in it to the fresh, unsophisticated nature of the man. He said in a letter to one of his friends, "What a hideous joy I felt--what a horrible pleasure it was to have saved one's own soul by the spoil of others!" The mysterious stranger who had thus befriended Ole Bull was the great detective Vidocq, whose adventures and exploits had given him a world-wide reputation. Ole Bull never saw him again.