Fetis stated that Paganini's visit to London excited the most lively
curiosity, but did not awake that intelligent interest which welcomed
him in the Capital of France. This does not sound complimentary to
London, but perhaps Fetis read some of the introductory comments of the
press when Paganini was about to reach our shores. This is a specimen:
"We shall talk of Paganini very much till he comes. When he arrives
nobody will speak or think of anything else for nine, perhaps eighteen,
days: he will be everywhere: all other violinists will be utterly
forgotten: it will be agreed that the instrument was never before heard;
that his predecessors were all tyros; all other fiddles mere kits. There
will be Paganini rondos and waltzes; variations, long, short, hard,
easy, all _a la Paganini_. We shall have Paganini hats, caps, etc., and
the hair of all the beaux patronised by beauty, will be after his
curious pattern. His influence will extend to our tables, and there will
be Paganini puffs served up daily. Then, all at once, his very name will
cease to be pronounced by persons of _ton_; and, as a matter of course,
people not of _ton_--not of the Devonshire circle, not of Almack's--will
imitate those who are: and the Italian player, like the penultimate
fashion, will be utterly forgotten!--_in good society_. I will
even allow him to flourish here two whole months, provided no new
chin-chopper[20] arrive in the interim, no _danseuse_ with a miraculous
toe, to contest the supremacy of his wonderful bow: should any such
rival enter the lists with him, his glory will set in less than a moon,
and never blaze again above our fashionable horizon."[21]
[Illustration: _Plate VI.--See Appendix._--TITLE-PAGE OF COMIC SONG,
1831.]
Here is another from _The Examiner_:--"There cannot be a more
inoffensive creature. His sole propensity is to gain money by his art,
and his passion to lose it at the gambling table. Paganini's bow
(_Scottice_, boo) is almost as wonderful as his bow (_Anglice_,
fiddle-stick)--the craw-fish would attempt something like it were he on
the stage, but not so well."
Well, we've improved in manners somewhat since 1831. No respectable
paper would publish now such notices in advance of any distinguished
artist, however eccentric he might be. Paganini duly arrived in London
in May, 1831. His first concert was announced for the 21st in this
manner:
THE KING'S THEATRE.
SIGNOR PAGANINI respectfully informs the Nobility, Subscribers, and
Frequenters of the Opera, and the public, that he will give a
GRAND MISCELLANEOUS CONCERT of VOCAL and INSTRUMEMTAL MUSIC, at
this theatre, TO-MORROW EVENING.
_Prices of Boxes_:--Pit Tier, 8 Guineas; Grand Tier, 10 Guineas;
One Pair, 9 Guineas; Two Pair, 6 Guineas; Three Pair, 4 Guineas;
Stalls, 2 Guineas; Orchestra, 1-1/2 Guineas; Admission to the Pit,
1 Guinea; Ditto to the Gallery, Half a Guinea.
This announcement produced a storm of indignation. Articles appeared in
_The Times_, _The Courier_, _The Observer_, _The Chronicle_, and
correspondence of a heated character was carried on. The editor of _The
Harmonicon_, calculated that a full house at the prices would realise
more than 3,000 guineas, and M. Laporte, the manager of the King's
Theatre, was virtually accused of conspiring to rob the public. It must
be explained that Laporte "farmed" Paganini; and as the latter
invariably doubled the ordinary prices of admission, his impressario
naturally desired to share in the golden harvest. Laporte wrote to _The
Times_ a hurried note on May 19th, at eleven p.m., stating that at some
future time he would refute the charges brought against him; and the
next day a letter from Paganini to Laporte, and advertised in the
newspaper, gave pause to the wordy warfare. It was as follows:--
Sir, _Friday_, 29th May.
Finding myself too unwell, I request you will respectfully inform
the public that the Concert announced for to-morrow will not take
place.
Your obedient Servant,
To M. Laporte. NICOLO PAGANINI.
Paganini was in a wretched state of health when he reached London, and
his condition was not improved by the turmoil his announcement had
created. The terms of his contract with Laporte were published in _The
Observer_, and it was shown that Paganini had practically surrendered
his freedom of action. This may be illustrated by a story that I have
not met with in any English publication, though it may be true all the
same. It is from the notice of Paganini in Mendel's "Musikalisches
Conversations-Lexikon." His Majesty William IV. sent to enquire what
honorarium Paganini required to play at the Court. Paganini answered:
L100, a mere bagatelle. As the messenger tendered him one half that sum,
Paganini haughtily replied, "His Majesty can hear me at a much cheaper
rate if he will attend my concert. But my terms are not left for me to
settle."
The concert postponed from May 21st was then announced for June 3rd, but
the question of the high prices had yet to be disposed of. Conflicting
statements were made--one to the effect that Paganini expressed his
regret that they had not been fixed still higher! Be that as it may,
that was not the time to trifle with an angry public. There was not a
moment to be lost, and some one must give way. The matter was soon
decided. On June 2nd, appeared in _The Courier_ and _The Globe_ the
translation of a letter from Paganini, which may be reproduced for the
sake of its contents:
"The time appointed for my first Concert at the King's Theatre so
nearly approaches, that I feel it my duty to announce it myself,
and to claim the favour of the English nation, which honours the
arts as much as I respect her. Having been accustomed in all the
towns of the Continent to double the usual prices at the theatres
where I have given my Concerts, and, but little acquainted with the
customs of this Capital, where I present myself for the first time,
I thought I might do the same here. But having been informed by
several papers that the existing prices here are higher than those
on the Continent, and having myself ascertained that the statement
was correct, I willingly second the wish of a public whose esteem
and protection I desire as my greatest recompense.
(Signed) NICOLO PAGANINI.
London, June 1st, 1831."
At last the concert took place in the King's Theatre, June 3rd, 1831.
There was an orchestra erected on the stage. Many musicians have left a
record of the extraordinary impression made by Paganini on that
occasion, and have attempted to describe the man. In the present place
quotation may be limited to the remarks of the editor of _The
Harmonicon_, William Ayrton, a cultivated musician, and a sober-minded
critic. He wrote thus: "The long, laboured, reiterated articles relative
to Paganini, in all the foreign journals for years past, have spoken of
his powers as so astonishing, that we were quite prepared to find them
fall far short of report; but his performances at his first concert, on
the 3rd of last month, convinced us that it is possible to exceed the
most sanguine expectation, and to surpass what the most eulogistic
writers have asserted. We speak, however, let it be understood, in
reference to his powers of execution solely. These are little less
than marvellous, and such as we could only have believed on the evidence
of our own senses; they imply a strong natural propensity to music, with
an industry, a perseverance, a devotedness, and also a skill in
inventing means, without any parallel in the history of his instrument."
[Illustration: _Plate VII.--See Appendix._
SKETCH BY D. MACLISE, R.A.]
So far, the musician. The critics on the press may also have been
musicians, though at that time it was not usual to have a musical
department, if such a term may pass, in the daily or weekly papers. _The
Athenaeum_, in its notice, does not reveal the polished style of a
high-class literary journal. This is how it deals with the concert:--"At
length all differences have been arranged, and the _mighty wonder_ has
come forth--a very Zamiel in appearance, and certainly a very devil in
performance! He is, beyond rivalry, the _bow_ ideal of fiddling faculty!
He possesses a demon-like influence over his instrument, and makes it
utter sounds almost superhuman.... The arrival of this magician is quite
enough to make the greater part of the fiddling tribe commit suicide."
And now let us turn to the concert itself. The fashionable world did not
rush to the theatre, and only two boxes were let. The stalls and
orchestra were full, and also the pit, but not crowded. The audience
consisted in great part of musicians; and even those engaged in the
orchestra were listeners for the first time, as Paganini at rehearsal
only played such passages as served for "cues," and in nowise revealed
his powers.
The object of a great _virtuoso_ would naturally be an exhibition of his
own talent, but Paganini was not prodigal of his playing at the first
concert. He had engaged the orchestra of the Philharmonic Society, then
probably the finest in Europe, and his programme opened with Beethoven's
Symphony, No. 2, in D. It will be shown later that Paganini had a great
veneration for Beethoven. Then Signor Lablache was the solo vocalist, so
Paganini was in the best of company. His first piece was the Concerto in
E flat[22], and his second solo the Military Sonata for the G string,
the theme being Mozart's "Non piu andrai." The receipts were L700.
Paganini had a most flattering reception, and his performances were
greeted with acclamations, and waving of hats and handkerchiefs. The
members of the orchestra were astounded. Mori avowed that if he could
not sell, he would at least burn, his fiddle; Lindley, who stammered
terribly, said that "it was the d-d-devil"; and Dragonetti (whose "he's
were she's") growled out, "She's mighty esprit!" Cramer thanked heaven
that he was not a violinist. A striking feature of Paganini's
performance was his playing from memory. The _Athenaeum_ remarked, "He
plays without a reading desk or book stand; this gives an air of
_improvising_ to his performance, which we hope to see imitated, if any
one be found hardy enough to undertake a violin solo for the next seven
years." No violinist would venture to play a concerto now with the music
before him, but he may not be aware that it was Paganini who set the
fashion of playing without book.
The public now forgot all about the trouble of the high prices, and the
second concert, given in the same place on the 10th, was so well
attended that the receipts were about L1,200. On this occasion Paganini
played his Concerto in B minor, and Lablache struck the little silver
bell in the Rondo. He also gave his variations on "The Carnival of
Venice," and a Sonata on the fourth string, in which the Prayer from
_Mose in Egitto_ was introduced. The third concert took place on the
13th, when Paganini brought out another new Concerto. Something like
L900 was realised. At the fourth concert, on the 16th, Paganini played a
_Cantabile_ on two strings, a _Rondo Scherzoso_, by Rodolphe Kreutzer--a
detail to be noticed,--a _Larghetto gajo_, the Military Sonata, and the
variations on "Non piu mesta," from Rossini's _La Cenerentola_. The
fifth and last Concert was on the 22nd, when the house was crowded to
excess, and the enthusiasm greater than ever.
But Paganini, or his astute manager, began to presume a little too much
on the good nature of the public. Parting was "such sweet sorrow," that,
like another Juliet, Paganini was inclined to prolong that process as
long as possible. Final concerts succeeded each other--much like the
"Farewells" of popular singers--until the audiences began to dwindle. At
one, at the King's Theatre on July 4th, Paganini played a new Concerto
in E major, "all expression and grace," and by far the best proof given
of his talent since his arrival in London. Paganini gave two concerts at
the London Tavern in July. The first was well attended, but at the
second there was no orchestra. The concert was a failure--"and no
wonder, for the Signor tried an experiment on the forbearance of the
citizens, and actually took only a pianist and one or two second-rate
singers with him to make up a half-guinea concert! This was too much
even for John Bull to submit to."[23]
What a curious side-light this shows upon concert matters in the first
half of the nineteenth century! Now-a-days the "experiment" is for the
_virtuoso_ to engage an orchestra.[24]
Paganini played at some of the benefit concerts during the season,
taking one-third of the gross receipts. There was evidently ill-feeling
on this point, for Lablache and Rubini now refused to sing where
Paganini played. It was said, even, that the leader of his orchestra had
to sue Paganini for recovery of his fees, but the artist in question,
Spagnoletti, put the matter right by publicly stating that his action
was against M. Laporte, and that against Signor Paganini he had never
had the slightest cause of complaint. Time was found for a few
provincial visits. In July Paganini gave two concerts at Cheltenham, and
there he got into trouble. It was announced that his engagements would
not permit his remaining beyond the second day. His concerts were well
supported, and one of the Subscription Balls, at the Rotunda, was
relinquished in order that no hindrance should stand in the way of
those desirous of hearing the violinist. But when it was given out that
Paganini would give a third performance, there was a disturbance. Some
leading residents had a handbill printed calling upon the "nobility and
gentry" to support the established amusements of the town, by
patronizing the Ball, if only as an act of justice to the proprietor.
The effect was to secure a thronged attendance at the Rotunda, and so
poor an assemblage at the theatre, that Paganini refused to perform. Of
course the manager had to communicate this unpleasant piece of
information to the audience, at the same time offering to return the
admission money; but the people were in no pacific frame of mind, and
they marched straightway to the hotel where Paganini was staying, and
demanded the fulfilment of his engagement. A mob soon collected, and
their demeanour became so threatening that there was nothing left but
compliance with their demand. Paganini went to the theatre, played two
of his most favourite pieces with great success, and at midnight posted
off for London. It appeared that he had agreed to perform for two-thirds
of the receipts, but finding the house not half full, demanded two
hundred guineas in advance. This the local manager refused, and informed
the audience of the fact; and the outbreak was the natural result. The
local paper remarked: "We believe this is the only instance as yet upon
record of Paganini's playing to empty benches, and himself unpaid."
Paganini addressed a letter to the _Times_, giving another version of
the incident, but he did not appear to have come out of the affair very
well. His manager's share in the business may be left to conjecture.
One other little circumstance seems to have caused a certain amount of
irritation. Paganini was engaged for the Lord Mayor's banquet at the
Mansion House on July 9th. When the Lord Mayor proposed the toast of the
Lord Chancellor, before Lord Brougham's rising to return thanks,
Paganini played a solo. He evidently displaced the usual glee party, but
in any case it was not the most artistic function to assist at, and
money must have been the chief consideration.
Paganini carried his London concerts into August, and visited Norwich,
where again a third performance took place when only two were announced.
The local manager was a heavy loser, as Paganini (or his agent) had
arranged for a specific sum, and there was very little in excess for the
payment of vocalists, and general expenses. There was also a clashing
with an important fixture at the theatre, and feeling ran high, though
there was no violent demonstration as at Cheltenham. Towards the end of
August, Paganini set out for Dublin, being engaged for the first Musical
Festival held in that city.
[Illustration: _Plate VIII.--See Appendix._
THE CELEBRATED STATUETTE (CARICATURE), BY DAINTON.]
FOOTNOTES:
[20] An allusion to Michael Boai, whose performances in London, in 1830,
were of a curious description,--producing tones by merely striking his
chin!
[21] The Dilettante, in _The Harmonicon_, VIII, 479.
[22] Now played in D.
[23] Harmonicon, IX. p. 190.
[24] At that time concert givers always engaged an orchestra, but the
gigantic combinations of the present day were, of course, unknown, and
unnecessary.