I am so sad! Such fears! Ever the thought haunts me that I may not see you and our child again....
To–morrow I play a quartette of Beethoven’s, a quartette of Mozart’s, a quintette of Gebel’s, and a composition of my own.... God protect you both!
His grand concerts in St. Petersburg were given in a hall that would seat five thousand people, and it was filled at every performance.
He now went through Finland, giving concerts in the chief towns, and thence to Stockholm. Being in haste to reach home, he resolved not to give any concert there. It was hoped, however, that he might be induced to change his mind by inviting him to play for the benefit of the sufferers from the fire in Wermeland, some of whom were then in Stockholm collecting subscriptions. He presented five hundred dollars to the sufferers, but declined to play. His presence at the palace was requested, and the king, during the interview, asked him to remain and play, saying that he made the request as King of Norway. He could not well refuse to comply with a request so put, and, notwithstanding his anxiety to hurry home, he consented to give five concerts, the last of which netted five thousand dollars. He played at the palace twice. The “Polacca Guerriera” so moved the old warrior king, to whose ears martial music was ever the sweetest, that he rose from his seat, and remained standing until the piece was finished.
The following incident occurred during Ole Bull’s first audience with Bernadotte. The king remarked that he had written to the Emperor of Russia, that he, too, had his Poles, the Norwegians; probably forgetting, for the moment, the nationality of his listener. Ole Bull replied with warmth: “Can your majesty mention a single instance in which my countrymen have not proved themselves law–abiding and loyal subjects?” “Your remark, sir, is out of place.” “If my remark is out of place, your majesty, I myself am out of place, and will take my leave.” “Remain, sir!” cried Bernadotte, extending his hand with a commanding gesture. “No, sire! I will see if a Norseman is free in the palace of the King of Sweden!” and the artist bowed low as he retired. Instantly the cloud lifted, and, with a winning smile and courteous words, the king said, “I pray you, sir, to remain; it is the duty of a prince to hear the opinions of all his people.”
Before Ole Bull left, Bernadotte offered him the Vasa order, which he declined, saying that a handkerchief or a button from his majesty’s coat would be a precious memento of this visit. When the king found that both order and jewels were firmly declined, in parting with Ole Bull he told him that at all times he would be admitted directly to his presence, and concluded, “You will not refuse an old man’s blessing”—which the violinist knelt to receive.
The order in brilliants was sent later to Ole Bull in Christiania, through his friend, Count Wedel–Jarlsberg, with a message from the king requesting the artist to accept the gift, that the world might know his king appreciated and honored genius.
The artist arrived with his family in Christiania, the capital of Norway, July 8, 1838, having gone directly there from Stockholm. The people were impatient to hear him, but he felt it necessary to take a fortnight’s rest after his long and fatiguing journey. The students hastened meantime to greet him before his public appearance, and on the 19th of July a dinner was given him by the foremost men of the country. Poems were written and read, his portrait was wreathed in flowers, and he himself was at last crowned with laurel. Wergeland says of his arrival and concert:—
Business even was dull while awaiting him. The talk was only of Ole Bull. The people had evidently thought of him as walking about with diamond buttons on his coat and surrounded by a sort of triumphal halo; and it was a surprise when he at last stood before us, exactly the same as of old, the same modest, unassuming man, with the same kindly smile and the piercing glance. Before his concert he made a visit to his old teacher, Paulsen, who had been unfortunate and now lay upon a sick–bed. He played for him until the old man was happy, and when he left he took care to insure his permanent comfort.