It is probable that the artist was never in his life so
acceptable to the American people as during his concert tour of
1868–1869. But no kindliness of fortune could prevent the
constantly recurring incidents and accidents of this extremely
interesting life. In the autumn of 1868 Ole Bull was a passenger
down the Ohio River, when a collision between two steamboats
occasioned a terrible accident, which involved the loss of many
lives. “On that evening,” as he narrated afterwards, “without
having any reason for what I did, I put on my coat and overcoat
and went up on deck with my violin–case in hand. It was then past
midnight.” Soon afterward the shock occurred. One boat had a
quantity of petroleum, which, igniting, poured out upon the river
and surrounded both vessels with a circle of fire. He was obliged
to spring overboard, but reached the shore with violin and person
alike intact, and after a tough struggle up the precipitous and
clayey bank of the stream found a firm footing at the top. He was
obliged to walk till daylight before he found a shelter.
There was enough music, fortunately, in the violin–case for immediate
use; and although the company had lost all their luggage, only one
concert was given up. The second night after the accident Ole Bull
performed in Cincinnati as announced, but was obliged to appear in his
traveling dress.
* * * * *
In the summer of 1869 he gave his services to the great Peace Jubilee in
Boston, conducted by Mr. P. S. Gilmore, and this so delayed his
departure for Europe that he could make only a flying visit to Norway.
He returned again in the autumn. The winter following, he gave concerts
and traveled constantly. He was everywhere warmly received by the
public, both East and West.
In April, 1870, he sailed for Norway. The New York _Tribune_ made the
following mention of his departure:—
“Herr Ole Bull, from the N. Y. Philharmonic Society,” was the
inscription upon a beautiful silken flag presented to the great
violinist, yesterday, on the deck of the United States revenue
cutter, which conveyed him from the barge–office at the Battery to
the steamship Russia. The flag was the Norwegian colors, with the
Star–Spangled Banner inserted in the upper staff section. The
committee of presentation were Messrs. Hill, Schaad, and Doremus,
the latter being the spokesman. Ole Bull was accompanied on board
the steamer by quite a large number of friends, among whom were
Miss Adelaide Phillips, Miss Alide Topp, Mrs. Belknap and sister,
Dr. and Mrs. Doremus, General Banks, Senator Conkling, Mr. F. S.
Appleton, and others. Dr. Doremus’s presentation speech, happily
conceived, was responded to in the warm–hearted and impulsive
manner peculiar to the artist, whose impulsiveness has ever
characterized the products of his genius, and whose
warm–heartedness is known to hundreds who have blessed him for his
generosity. Senator Conkling and General Banks also made
appropriate speeches. As the cutter left the steamer, the company
waved together their regrets and their farewells; and the form of
the fine old gentleman, bare–headed and swinging his hat, was seen
as long as forms could be distinguished in the distance.
This beautiful flag was, according to Ole Bull’s promise on its
acceptance, always carried in the 17th of May processions in Bergen, and
floated on the 4th of July.
A beautiful silver vase presented by the N. Y. Philharmonic Society that
season, a piece of silver plate given by the Young Men’s Christian
Association of New York city, for whom he had played, and a very rich
and beautiful gold crown given him in San Francisco, were among the
mementos which he carried home to Norway.
A still closer tie was soon to bind him to the United States, the
country which seemed already his by adoption. In Madison, Wis., in the
winter of 1868, Ole Bull first made the acquaintance which resulted in
his second marriage. He took a kindly interest in the musical studies of
his friend there, and later in New York. To others this delightful
relation of teacher, adviser, and friend seemed the only one
permissible; but he wrote: “Other than human powers have decided my
fate.... The sunbeams I shut out, but the sun itself I could not
annihilate.”
The marriage was delayed in deference to the wishes of others for some
months, but without resulting in a modification of their fears
concerning the disparity of years and other conditions. It was later
decided to have a private marriage. This was consummated in Norway, and
publicly announced and confirmed on the return to the United States,
three months later, in the autumn of 1870.
During the years 1867–69 Ole Bull had worked on his improvement of the
piano–forte. This attempt to build a piano outside a manufactory would
have been a very doubtful experiment even if the principle of
construction had not been itself an experiment. He would not permit the
use of any of the old means for strengthening and sustaining the
sounding–board, which necessarily in time destroy its power of giving
out a good quality of tone. His principal effort was to sustain the
board at the ends, leaving the sides free, not permitting the board to
be pierced for the insertion of screws to unite the upper and lower
frame–work, as is generally done. The wooden strips employed to
strengthen the great surface of the board should, he thought, be made to
help the tone as well, on the principle of the bar in the violin; the
whole to be so adjusted that the wood might grow better with use and
age.
The first instrument was made under very great disadvantages. The
workmen had it in hand while Ole Bull was absent on his concert tour. A
telegram would announce to him the breaking of the frame, which he would
try to remedy by suggestions sent by telegram or letter. This instrument
cost some $15,000. Not satisfied with this, he commenced another, and
met the same old difficulties in the frame, or new ones quite as
serious. John Ericsson learned of his trouble, had him explain his idea,
made a frame of the right weight and strength, only insisting upon one
condition,—the acceptance of it by Ole Bull as a present. This second
piano proved satisfactorily that the theory was sound and practicable.
Ole Bull had hoped to perfect his invention and introduce the
instruments to the public. This would have given him the greatest
satisfaction; for even the best pianos give only for a short time a
musical quality of tone, and necessarily deteriorate from use, not only
because of the wear in the action, which can be replaced, but also on
account of the destruction and breaking down of the woody cells and
tissues of the sounding–board itself, under the improperly distributed
strain brought to bear upon it.
The opportunity never came to Ole Bull of doing more than to satisfy
himself that his theory could be realized. Two pianos only were made;
but these proved the possibility of doing away with the objectionable
features in the present construction of the instrument, which, in time,
must destroy the vitality of the sounding–board and its power to produce
a pure tone. It is well known that none but new pianos are used by
professional players; and an instrument which has been used for any
length of time positively vitiates a musical ear.
No friendly service ever touched Ole Bull more deeply than the generous
helpfulness of John Ericsson, whom he admired and loved. It is with a
sense of grateful recognition that the following letter is now given in
concluding this mention of the piano:—
NEW YORK, _December 13, 1880_.
MY DEAR MRS. BULL,—In adverting to the fact,—when I had the
pleasure of addressing you last week,—that everything connected
with Ole Bull’s memory is dear to me, I omitted to refer to his
admirable conception of securing the strings of pianos to a
separate frame, composed of metal, so formed that it may be
applied to any wooden stand more or less ornamented. It was my
privilege, often, to listen to my lamented friend’s disquisitions
relating to the violin, showing his clear mechanical conceptions
of the laws which govern the construction of that most perfect of
all musical instruments. The great violinist possessed a
singularly accurate knowledge of the necessary relations between
the capability of resisting the tension of the strings, and the
elasticity requisite to admit of a perfectly free movement of the
sounding–board, and other parts of the delicate structure,
indispensable to produce infinitely minute vibrations, the control
of which by his master hand created tones which enabled him to
charm his hearers as none of his rivals could.
I regard the independent metallic frame for holding the strings of
pianos as an invention which would do honor to any professional
mechanician; and I contemplate with much satisfaction the
circumstance that my departed friend intrusted to me the
construction of the first specimen of his important improvement.
I am, my dear Mrs. Bull,
Yours very sincerely, J. ERICSSON.
Mr. Ericsson had previously written of Ole Bull: “So warm a heart and so
generous a disposition as his I have never known.” These words, it may
be truthfully said, express the sentiment and the judgment of the
violinist concerning the great engineer and inventor.
Professor H. Helmholtz, whose works on tone Ole Bull had carefully
studied, says of the violinist in a letter written in May, 1881:—
I saw that he was thoroughly well informed as to the mechanical
problems concerning the violin, which came in question.... I was
much impressed by his personal character; he was at the same time
so enthusiastic and so intelligent, interested in all the great
problems of humanity.
The pleasantest incident of his concert tour in the season of 1871–72
was a visit he made to his friend, Mr. William H. Seward, in Auburn, N.
Y. The two delightful days spent at Mr. Seward’s house relieved the
tedium of the whole trip.
The summer of 1872 he was in Norway, and in the fall returned again to
the United States, giving some seventy–five concerts, with his usual
success, during the winter. The last concerts announced were given up,
on account of the illness of his infant daughter.
In the spring he returned to Norway, and occupied for the first time the
new house which had been built at Lysö during his absence. The winter
following was mostly passed in Southern France. While on a visit to
Florence, he met again his old friend Prince Poniatowsky, and also many
others whom he had known nearly forty years before, when he had been
made an honorary member of the Philharmonic Society of that city.
Professor Sbolczis urged Ole Bull to permit his friends to hear him,
offering the aid of his own orchestra; and not only the importunity of
his friends, but the thought of again trying his power over such an
audience as the city of the Arno can offer, tempted him to play. The
hall was crowded, the tickets having been taken by storm, and the
performers suffered considerable inconvenience therefrom. But to this an
Italian readily accommodates himself under such circumstances.
Brizzi, the leader of the “Orfeo,” now claimed that what Ole Bull had
done for Sbolczis should also be granted to his celebrated band of
performers, and offered to secure for the concert the largest hall in
the city, one that could hold nearly five thousand people. Ole Bull
consented, and the greatest enthusiasm prevailed. In the orchestra sat
old men who had accompanied Paganini—“And here he is again,” they cried.
The _Corriere Italiano_ said of the concert:—
The Teatro Pagliano yesterday presented an imposing scene. Every
part was full to overflowing. The most distinguished families and
the ladies of the highest circles, including the Grand Duchess
Marie of Russia, whose frequent applause showed how intensely she
enjoyed the music, were present at the concert; also Commodore
Peruzzi and wife, Princess Carolath, Princess Strozzi, and an
immense number of musical amateurs of our artistic and
aristocratic society.... The chief honors of the concert were
given to the Norse Paganini, the original, inspiring, great
violinist, Ole Bull, who kindly contributed his valuable
assistance, and paid his respects to the “Orfeo.” His artistic
nature prompted him to this graceful act of fraternal courtesy,
the value of which is extraordinary, because he himself is
extraordinary,—he, the king of all violinists of the present time,
the old formidable rival of Paganini. In the fantasy of the
“Nightingale” he gave us an idea of his charming and wonderful
skill.... In the “Carnival of Venice,” the frantic dance of the
notes combined with the most graceful execution could not be
excelled. Both pieces produced a storm of deafening applause. The
audience desired the latter repeated, but, instead of this, the
musician gave them the celebrated fantasy of Paganini on the no
less celebrated song of Paisiello, “Nel cor non più mi sento,” and
in this we heard from Ole Bull the most secret beauties of song,
the sweetness of the flute, the transitions of the violin to the
viola, and to the sadness of the violoncello. In the “Polacca
Guerriera,” one of his own compositions, burst forth the exciting
and powerful notes of war. As a composer he was graceful, wild,
full of imagination, feeling, and originality; as a performer he
was mighty, wonderful, indescribable. At this point a golden
wreath from the “Orfeo” was presented to Ole Bull, while the
audience applauded rapturously. The old and handsome hero was
visibly moved by the enthusiasm which he had evoked.