Paganini arrived at Vienna, March 16th, 1828, and gave his first concert
in the Redouten-Saal[13] on the 29th of the same month, creating a
_furore_ the like of which had never been witnessed. It must be borne in
mind that Paganini was now no romantic-looking youth to move the
feelings of sentimental or hysterical young ladies. He was in his
forty-sixth year, and his face bore the marks of suffering; he wore his
long hair in ringlets falling over his shoulders, but physically he was
a wreck. Yet no youthful artist of to-day has made a more sensational
_debut_ than that of Paganini in the Austrian Capital in 1828. To repeat
the oft-quoted account given by Schilling: "At the first stroke of the
bow on his Guarnerius, one might almost say at the first step he took
into the hall, his reputation was decided in Germany. Kindled as by an
electric flash, he suddenly shone and sparkled like a miraculous
apparition in the domain of art."
Another account, if less familiar, is equally interesting. In a letter
from Vienna, addressed to the _Literary Gazette_, the writer says:--"The
great novelty and prodigy of the day is one M. Paganini, an Italian
performer on the violin.
"This is the first time he has left Italy; but I heard him previously,
about five years ago, at Milan, in competition with M. Lafont, whom he
beat fairly.[14] He is, without contradiction, not only the finest
player on the violin, but no other performer, upon what instrument
soever, can be styled his equal: Kalkbrenner, Rode, Romberg, Moscheles,
Jew and Gentile, are his inferiors by at least some thousand degrees;
they are not fit, as we say in Germany, to _reach him water_. He is
Mathews of the violin, performs a whole concert on a single string,
where you are sure to hear, besides his own instrument, a harp, a
guitar, and a flute. In one word, he is a necromancer, and bids fair
to beat _la Giraffe_. We have here hats, shawls, gloves and nonsense
of every description, _a la Giraffe_; but yesterday I actually
ate _Auflaufy_--a very innocent, rather insipid sweetmeat--_a la
Paganini_.... He has already performed twice to crowded houses in our
great masquerade-hall. The beginning of the concert was, as usual,
advertised for half-past eleven [in the morning]: at eleven o'clock not
a pin dropping from the roof would have reached the ground; people were
already there at nine o'clock. He came hither with six florins in his
pocket; now you may style him a warm man. From Vienna he intends to
proceed to Paris, and thence to London."[15]
Here a brief digression is pardonable. The Pasha of Egypt, a short time
before Paganini's visit, had presented to the Emperor of Austria a
Giraffe, an animal then new to Europe. That interesting quadruped, a
superb specimen of its kind, created such a sensation, and so completely
absorbed public attention, that as seen in the letter just quoted,
everything was _a la Giraffe_.[16] Paganini's phenomenal success gained
him a popularity that quite eclipsed the poor Giraffe, and now the mode
was _a la Paganini_. All kinds of articles were named after him; a good
stroke at billiards was a _coup a la Paganini_; his bust in butter and
crystallised sugar figured on every banquet table; and portraits, more
or less faithful, adorned snuff-boxes, cigar-boxes, or were carved on
the canes carried by the fops. Paganini himself went into a shop one day
to buy gloves. "_A la Giraffe?_" asked the salesman. "No, no, some other
animal," said the _maestro_, whereupon he was handed a pair _a la
Paganini_! It is said that a certain driver, whom Paganini had once
engaged, obtained permission to paint on his vehicle the words
_Cabriolet de Paganini_, by which means he gained notoriety and enough
money to set up as a hotel-keeper. Paganini was much sought after by the
leaders of society and fashion; but Prince Metternich alone received the
favour of a visit.
It may be remembered that Franz Schubert gave his first, and as it
turned out, his only concert, in the hall of the Musik-Verein, Vienna,
on the 26th of March, three days before that of Paganini. Schubert
cleared over L30--the first piece of luck that came to the poor
composer. The money flowed freely; he paid his five Gulden (something
over six shillings) to hear Paganini, and went a second time, not so
much for his own sake, as to take his friend Bauernfeld,[17] who had not
five farthings, while with him (Schubert) "money was as plentiful as
black-berries." Generous, simple Schubert! Did he and Paganini ever
meet? What a pair they would have made!
Paganini's Vienna concerts were so successful that he increased the
number from six to twelve. It is said that poor musicians actually sold
their clothes to raise the needful in order to hear him; and that no
halls were large enough to contain all who wished to attend his
concerts. Paganini's last concert was given by express command of the
Emperor of Austria, who honoured the occasion by his presence. Among
other things, Paganini introduced the National hymn "God preserve the
Emperor," which he performed with a truth and fervour of expression that
seemed to impart a novelty even to so familiar a theme. He did some
wonderful things on the G string, astonishing and delighting all
present, especially rivetting the attention of the Emperor, who led the
applause.
The Court Gazette announced that His Majesty, as a testimony of his
admiration, had sent Paganini a diploma, appointing him one of the
Emperor's chamber musicians, and exempting him from the usual fees of
office; this was accompanied by a splendid gold snuff-box set with
brilliants. The chief magistrate of Vienna presented Paganini with the
gold medal of San Salvador; and, to crown all, a medal was struck in
Paganini's honour. This, the work of J. Lang, has on the face a portrait
in relief of the violinist, with the inscription:--
NICOLAO PAGANINI VINDOBONA
MDCCCXXVIII.
and on the back the words:--
PERITURIS SONIS NON PERITURA GLORIA.
surrounding an open music book with the theme of the "Bell Rondo," upon
which lies the famous Guarnerius wreathed with laurel. This was the
city's parting gift to the great artist.
These doings were too good to escape the notice of the caricaturist, and
a two-act piece was produced at the _Theater an der Wien_, entitled "The
Counterfeit Virtuoso; or, the Concerto on the G string," the music by
Kapellmeister Franz Glaeser. The overture was ingeniously made up of the
principal subjects of Paganini's concertos, ludicrously contrasted with
counter subjects of a popular kind. Several of the _quodlibets_ were
full of humour, and, with the _bon mots_ and anecdotes, tended to make
it a very amusing production for the moment.
It was at Vienna that the rumour spread abroad of Paganini being in
league with the Devil, which accounted for his marvellous performances.
The great violinist was much disturbed and annoyed by these calumnies,
and had to appeal to the press for aid in refuting them. It may be that
his estrangement from the world, his love of solitude, morose temper,
and the avarice which displayed itself, all had their origin in the
hostile attitude assumed by a section of the public during his foreign
tours, for when in Italy Paganini seems to have lived much as others
did. Paganini was accompanied by his companion Signora Bianchi, and the
son born to them, when he visited Vienna.
It was in May the little party left Vienna. The concerts had quite
prostrated Paganini, and the family went to Carlsbad. After resting
there some time Paganini departed for Prague, but an abscess in the face
kept him a prisoner for three weeks. Here is a contemporary account
which is interesting. Paganini was obliged to place himself under the
care of two celebrated medical men, Krumblholz and Nusshardt, and they
were the only visitors he received during his lonely residence up three
pair of stairs. After a successful operation on the jaw-bone, one of his
physicians expressed a desire which was cherished in vain by the whole
city--that of hearing some notes from the hitherto silent instrument of
the great master; and he entreated him to try if he could rest his
violin on his hardly healed chin. Paganini confirmed what has long been
said, that even before friends he was very niggardly in the display of
his talents. He took his instrument, played one stroke with his bow, and
said, "_Es geht schon_" (that will do). "For eight days before the first
concert," continues the writer, "every place was engaged. When I reached
the theatre at four o'clock in the afternoon, it appeared as if the
house was about to be stormed, so great was the throng on the outside.
Many magistrates and people of the first rank were amongst the crowd,
and shared my anxious expectation. At last I found myself, I scarcely
know how, in the pit, and there awaited for two hours and a half the
opening of the concert." The writer then goes on to describe the
violinist, his appearance, his smile that made everyone shudder, and the
extraordinary performance which roused the audience to the wildest
enthusiasm. He then quotes the saying of a Vienna critic: "Paganini has
nothing in common with other players but the violin and the bow," and
regrets that his friend will not for some time have the opportunity of
hearing the superb performer, for he learns that Paganini does not yet
intend to visit Paris or London.[18]
[Illustration: _Plate V.--See Appendix._
FROM A CONTEMPORARY GERMAN PICTURE.]
Paganini's first concert only was well attended. There was then a
reaction. Some attributed the falling off to the high prices charged for
admission, but there was, in fact, a traditional hostility in art
matters between Prague and Vienna; that which was praised in Vienna must
be condemned in Prague, and what was approved in Prague must not be
tolerated in Vienna. It was at Prague that Paganini actually published
this letter from his mother as proof that he was not the son of the
devil!
DEAREST SON,--At last, after seven months have elapsed since I
wrote to you at Milan, I had the happiness of receiving your letter
of the 9th current, through the intermediary of Signor Agnino, and
was much rejoiced to find that you were in the enjoyment of good
health. I am also delighted to find that, after your travels to
Paris and London, you purpose visiting Genoa expressly to embrace
me. I assure you, my prayers are daily offered up to the Most High,
that my health may be sustained, also yours, so that my desire may
be realised.
My dream has been fulfilled, and that which God promised me has
been accomplished. Your name is great, and art, with the help of
God, has placed you in a position of independence. Beloved,
esteemed by your fellow citizens, you will find in my bosom and
those of your friends, that repose which your health demands.
The portraits which accompanied your letter have given me great
pleasure. I had seen in the papers all the accounts you give me of
yourself. You may imagine, as your mother, what an infinite source
of joy it was to me. Dear son, I entreat you to continue to inform
me of all that concerns you, for with this assurance I shall feel
that it will prolong my days, and be convinced that I shall still
have the happiness of embracing you.
We are all well. In the name of your relations, I thank you for the
sums of money you have sent. Omit nothing that will render your
name immortal. Eschew the vices of great cities, remembering that
you have a mother who loves you affectionately, and whose fondest
aspirations are your health and happiness. She will never cease her
supplications to the All-powerful for your preservation.
Embrace your amiable companion for me, and kiss little Achille.
Love me as I love you.
Your ever affectionate mother,
_21st July, 1828_. TERESA PAGANINI.
From Prague, Paganini went to Berlin, where he remained four months. He
was received with the utmost enthusiasm, and on the evening of his first
concert he exclaimed: "I have found my Vienna public again." Wherever
Paganini stayed for any length of time it suddenly became the fashion to
learn to play the violin; and the fair members of the aristocratic
families were among the most eager to become pupils of the famous man.
Paganini made a great deal of money in Berlin. The critics were divided
in opinion as to his merits; but Rellstab, whom Schumann once called
"Wretched Berlinese reviewer," was favourably impressed. Paganini is
said to have received a challenge from Baron Sigismond von Praun, to a
public contest for supremacy in performance, but as the would-be
opponent was a youth of seventeen, Paganini disdained him. Perhaps he
thought of his own presumption in his young days!
Paganini's tour was one continual triumphal progress. At Koenigsberg his
first concert realised about L330, an unprecedented sum in that place;
at Frankfort his four concerts produced something like L1,000. A critic
wrote of him: "One striking peculiarity of his playing is the
extraordinary effect it produces on persons wholly devoid of musical
cultivation. Most _virtuosi_ play only for the learned; not so
Paganini. His performance is alike appreciated by men of business and
connoisseurs, by children and grown persons--it is felt and understood
by all. This is the distinctive characteristic of all that is great in
art."
He was at Leipzig in 1829, and was among the visitors at the house of
Abraham Mendelssohn--the pleasant garden-house in the Leipziger
Strasse--and his portrait figures in Hensel's collection. In June, 1830,
Paganini was in Cassel, when Spohr heard him for the first time--of
which more later. In Hamburg the same year Heine heard him, and his
vivid and extraordinary notice of the artist must be briefly quoted. "I
believe," said Heine, "that only one man has succeeded in putting
Paganini's true physiognomy upon paper--a deaf painter, Lyser by name,
who in a frenzy full of genius has with a few strokes of chalk so well
hit the great violinist's head that one is at the same time amused and
terrified at the truth of the drawing. 'The devil guided my hand,' the
deaf painter said to me, chuckling mysteriously, and nodding his head
with a good-natured irony in the way he generally accompanied his genial
witticisms.... The Hamburg Opera House was the scene of this concert,
and the art-loving public had flocked there so early, and in such
numbers, that I only just succeeded in obtaining a little place in the
orchestra." Then he goes on to describe the audience and the entrance of
Paganini. "Is that a man brought into the arena at the moment of death,
like a dying gladiator, to delight the public with his convulsions? Or
is it one risen from the dead, a vampire with a violin, who, if not the
blood out of our hearts, at any rate sucks the gold out of our pockets?
Such questions crossed our minds while Paganini was performing his
strange bows, but all those thoughts were at once still when the
wonderful master placed his violin under his chin and began to play. As
for me, you already know my musical second-sight, my gift of seeing at
each tone a figure equivalent to the sound, and so Paganini with each
stroke of his bow brought visible forms and situations before my eyes;
he told me in melodious hieroglyphics all kinds of brilliant tales; he,
as it were, made a magic lantern play its coloured antics before me, he
himself being chief actor.... A holy, ineffable ardour dwelt in the
sounds, which often trembled, scarce audibly, in mysterious whisper on
the water, then swelled out again with a shuddering sweetness, like a
bugle's notes heard by moonlight, and then finally poured forth in
unrestrained jubilee, as if a thousand bards had struck their harps and
raised their voices in a song of victory." Thus, a poet on a poet in
tones.
In 1829 Paganini was in Warsaw, and Chopin was among those who heard
him. As he was leaving, in July, he was stopped some distance from the
city by a numerous company who had met together in a garden. They drank
the health of the artist, and Joseph Xaver Elsner, Director of the
Conservatoire, handed him a costly snuff box, bearing this inscription:
"Al Cavaliere Nicolo Paganini, gli ammiratori del suo talento, Varsovia
19 Luglio 1829." Paganini pressed it to his lips, speechless with
surprise, and affected almost to tears. At Munich he gave three concerts
in November of the same year; and at the close of the last _soiree_ the
artist was crowned by Stunz, the Kapellmeister, while thousands of
laudatory poems were showered from different parts of the hall. At
Stuttgart, the King of Wuertemberg presented him with 100 _louis d'or_,
and it is said that before leaving Germany Paganini sent over L6,000 to
the Bank of England for safe custody, a proceeding which showed his good
sense, and perhaps revealed a mistrust of his continental friends.
Paganini's tours, extending over three years, embraced Bohemia, Poland,
Saxony, Bavaria, Prussia, and the Rhine provinces. Many more details
might be given, but they are really needless: it was always the same
story of the artist's success, excepting, indeed, at Augsburg, where the
criticisms were adverse, as at Prague. An anecdote may fitly close the
narration of Paganini's long stay in Germany, as it reveals an
interesting trait in the character of the peasantry. Paganini, in the
autumn of 1829, was summoned to appear before the Queen Dowager of
Bavaria, at the Castle of Tegernsee, a magnificent residence of the
Kings of Bavaria, situated on the banks of a lake of the same name. At
the moment the concert was about to begin, a great bustle was heard
outside. The Queen, having enquired the cause, was informed that about
sixty of the neighbouring peasantry, having been told of the arrival of
the famous Italian violinist, were come with the hope of hearing some of
his notes, and requested that the windows should be opened, in order
that they also might enjoy his talent. The Queen went beyond their
wishes, and with truly Royal good-nature, gave orders that they should
all be admitted into the saloon, where she had the pleasure of remarking
their discernment, and the judicious manner in which they applauded the
most striking parts of the distinguished artist's performance.
Frankfort seems to have been a favourite stopping place with Paganini,
and from there, at last, he quitted the fatherland, and arrived at
Strasburg, where he gave two concerts, and thence proceeded direct to
Paris.
It has to be observed that France had just been through another
Revolution, and the turmoil, social and political, had not subsided. To
a populace seething in this fevered atmosphere anything by way of
diversion would be welcome. The man of the hour was Paganini, for in a
sense he combined within himself the surrounding elements and
influences. At the moment the public was just in the mood for Paganini,
and the artist met the craving for excitement. He gave his first concert
in the Opera House on March 9th, 1831, and notwithstanding that the
prices of admission were tripled, the house was crammed. It would be
impossible, says Fetis, to describe the enthusiasm with which the
audience were seized when listening to the extraordinary artist, an
enthusiasm approaching delirium, frenzy. Paganini's Studies had long
been known to Parisian violinists, but they remained enigmas impossible
of solution. At his third concert, March 25th, Paganini introduced a new
concerto, in D minor, which, like so much of his music, is lost. In
Paris the infamous persecution of the artist seems to have reached its
climax. Fetis states that Paris was above all places hostile to
Paganini, although that city had contributed more than any other place
to the _eclat_ of his success. His portrait was on every wall, and
exhibited in the windows of print shops. Paganini himself stopped to
look at one representing him in prison; and while scanning it with
some amusement, found he was being surrounded by a crowd who were
scrutinising him with close interest, evidently comparing his features
with those of the lithograph. This was too much, and Paganini sought his
friend Fetis, and confided to him his troubles, seeking his aid for
their amelioration. Fetis requested Paganini to supply him with
particulars, and then indited a long epistle, which, signed by Paganini,
appeared in the _Revue Musicale_. Quotation may be deferred until the
narration of Paganini's public career is completed, and a more detailed
consideration of the character of the man and the artist is entered
upon.
One incident that occurred during Paganini's visit to Paris may be
related. The officers of the different legions of the National Guard
combined to organise a grand ball to be held in the Opera House for the
benefit of the poor. They thought it would add greatly to the
attractions of the function if they could prevail upon Paganini to
attend and play a few pieces. To ask for violin solos in a place
prepared for a ball, and among an assemblage met for dancing, argued a
very curious taste, or want of it. Paganini owed it to his dignity as an
artist to refuse the invitation, which he did. For this he was bitterly
assailed by a section of the press, and was compelled to publish a
letter justifying himself.[19] He explained that he had already given up
the Opera House, which was at his disposal, for the preparations for the
ball, and that involved the loss of receipts for one concert--from
15,000 to 20,000 francs. He added that in Berlin, Vienna, and all the
towns where he had continued any time, he made it a duty to perform for
the benefit of the unfortunate; and he certainly should not leave Paris
without devoting the proceeds of one of his _soirees_ to the relief of
the poor of that capital. He kept his word; gave the promised concert,
and the poor profited by a refusal that was attributed to him as a
crime.
Berlioz, then in Italy--he had just won the Grand Prix de Rome--passing
through a crisis in his life, stayed a few days in Genoa. In his
autobiography he wrote: "All Paris was raving about Paganini, while I,
with my usual luck, was kicking my heels in his native town instead of
listening to him. I tried to gather some information about their
distinguished townsman from the Genoese, but found that, like other
people engaged in commerce, they cared little for the fine arts, and
spoke quite indifferently of the genius whom Germany, France and England
had received with open arms. They could not even show me his father's
house." So quickly and easily can one be forgotten! England had not yet
received Paganini, but it was many years after this time that Berlioz
penned his autobiography.
Liszt, in Paris, his first dream of love cruelly dispelled, shunned the
world and buried himself in seclusion. For the time the artist within
him was dead, and his thoughts turned to the priesthood. The revolution
of 1830 awoke him. The Magyar blood was aroused, and sympathising with
the people's struggles Liszt planned a _Symphonie revolutionnaire_. But
it was Paganini who, the next year, touched Liszt as it were with a
magic wand, and gave the direction to the genius and energy of the young
artist. Of this more in its proper place. Early in May, 1831, Paganini
left Paris for London.
FOOTNOTES:
[13] Where Beethoven gave his concerts in 1814.
[14] The writer's memory played him false. The meeting with Lafont took
place in 1816; or, according to some, in 1812!
[15] This letter was reproduced in the "Harmonicon."
[16] Lady Morgan, in her book, "France in 1829-30," gives an account of
the Giraffe just then arrived in Paris. The animal was added to the
collection in the London Zoological Gardens in 1836.
[17] Litterateur, of Vienna: writer of comedies, etc.
[18] This letter was published in _The Quarterly Musical Magazine and
Review_.
[19] Addressed to _Le Corsaire_, and reproduced (in English) in _The
Globe_.