Notes of a Pianist/Biographical Sketch/Chapter 2
CHAPTER II.
The first thought of Mr. Gottschalk, after their return to New Orleans, was to make inquiries for the best professor of the piano. Mr. Letellier, a young Frenchman, a singer of great talent at the Théâtre d'Orléans, was introduced to him, and immediately Moreau commenced the study of music. One year afterwards, Mr. Letellier, full of pride at the remarkable progress of his pupil, repeated everywhere that the little Gottschalk could read at first sight any manuscript which might be placed before him. Besides the piano he was also taught the violin, and Mr. Miolan, the brother of Madam Carvalho, the French singer, was chosen for his professor.
Several years were thus passed. Moreau, although in delicate health, grew in height; but the passion he had for music did not prevent the assiduous labour to which his father subjected him from becoming injurious to his constitution. One day, when Mr. Letellier, who was organist at the Cathedral of St. Louis, had taken his little scholar to show him the mechanism of the organ, and to explain it to him, he was surprised to see how quickly the child understood, and decided to teach him the organ. As Mr. Gottschalk made no objection to the proposition, the idea of the professor was immediately put into execution, and the lessons commenced. His progress was so rapid that one year after—Moreau might then have been seven years old—having gone to high mass one Sunday, Mr. Letellier beckoned to him so energetically that he was obliged to understand that his professor wanted him in the choir; but what was his surprise when, reaching it, Mr. Letellier said to him, "Now, then, sit down, and decipher this mass for me; the tenor is ill, I must take his place, and there is nobody else to play the organ; and above all make no blunders—now begin." Trembling, but not daring to disobey, the child commenced. Mr. Letellier managed the pedals, which his little feet could not reach. When the mass was finished, the professor took his pupil in his arms, and, going down stairs, presented him to his father, saying: "There is the most beautiful flower of my crown; if this child does not become the greatest musician in the world, sacre Dieu! my name is not Letellier:" and the good man, weeping with emotion, kissed him. The child, impatient to go home, grasped his father's hand, and tried to drag him away. Then running on before, he did not stop until he reached home. "Where is mamma?" he inquired, and, throwing himself into his mother's arms, endeavoured to relate to her his morning's success; but so great was his emotion, that Mr. Gottschalk was obliged to go to his assistance, and to explain what had happened.
Several years passed away. Moreau had attained ten years of age; his talent was so great that there was nothing further difficult for him, so Mr. Letellier candidly acknowledged that he had nothing more to teach him, and the only thing remaining to be done was to send him to France. Mr. Gottschalk, who had always cherished the thought of having his children educated in Europe, was only too happy to have a reason for it, and decided, to the great regret of his wife, that his son should leave New Orleans and go to Paris, when he should attain the age of twelve years.
At this period, the condition of the Théâtre d'Orléans, owing to many circumstances useless to mention, was far from flourishing, and many of the musicians of the orchestra were unemployed. Mr. Miolan, one of the number, came one day to Mr. Gottschalk to request him to permit his son to play at a concert which he was about to give for his own benefit. At this time Mr. Gottschalk, engaged in business as a stock-broker, was led to indulge the hope of an independent fortune for his children, and, never having an idea that any of them would be in the musical profession, he flatly refused. But Mr. Miolan would take no refusal, and returned again to the charge. The second time his petition met with more success, as it was supported by the wish which the little artist had of being heard in public. A select programme was, therefore, placed before the eyes of the Creole and American dilettanti of New Orleans; and in a few days more tickets were sold than the concert room could seat. On the evening of the performance the hall was crowded, and there was hardly standing room to be found. The young artist played several pieces, hut the one which was most successful was the 'Lucie' by Hertz. When he came to the most difficult passage of the piece, the enthusiasm was at its height, and the last note was hardly struck when the young executant was carried off in triumph.
Everything being arranged for Moreau's departure, in April, 1842, at the request of his father's friends, he gave a farewell concert. At the head of the patrons of the concert was Mr. David, the French consul. The expected day, awaited with so much impatience by all the musical amateurs, and by the curious whp had never heard the young musician, at last arrived. Never, perhaps, had the splendid ball-room St. Louis been filled with so large and brilliant an assemblage. All the élite of the city were there. At the conclusion of the concert, Mr. David stepped upon the stage and presented to the young artist a monstrous bouquet. Moreau thought but of one thing, his mother, and, turning to the stage-box where she was seated, screamed out, "Mamma, it is for you!"
On the evening of the concert, the little pianist went to the hairdresser, Mr. Barraud, to have his hair dressed. "Ah! I see," said the hairdresser, "you are going to the concert of little Moreau Gottschalk! I also should like to have gone, but I cannot spare so much money at once!" "Would you like to go?" asked Moreau. "To go! indeed I should." "Very well, then, I can give you a ticket; I am Moreau Gottschalk." Great was the surprise of the hairdresser, and Moreau had that evening one more admirer.