Dublin held her first Musical Festival from August 30th to September
3rd, 1831, and in connection with this event, it is interesting to note,
Henry Fothergill Chorley contributed his first musical criticism to the
_Athenaeum_.[25] There was very little about Paganini, but much about the
oratorio, "The Triumph of Faith," of Ferdinand Ries. It may be observed,
in passing, that in the first half of the nineteenth century musical
festivals were more numerous than they are now--there were five in 1831.
With the exception of those given in York Minster (1823-1835), they were
not on the large scale of the principal present day celebrations; but
they were relatively of more importance, inasmuch as there were then
fewer musical centres beyond the metropolis, and small towns would have
had little music but for those periodic gatherings.
Dublin's scheme was ambitious; for Paganini's fees for the three evening
concerts was 500 guineas. Braham and Henry Phillips were among the
vocalists engaged, and the latter, in his "Musical Recollections," gives
a very interesting and amusing account of Paganini at the festival. No
one seemed to know how Paganini arrived in Dublin, which gave rise to a
vague idea that he was wafted across by the _Flying Dutchman_. Where he
lodged was equally a mystery. He arrived at the stage door of the
Theatre Royal on the evening of the first concert, and immediately
ordered an apartment to be got ready, and the room to be perfectly
darkened. There he paced up and down, playing snatches of his music
until the time for his _debut_ before a Dublin audience.
The Theatre was crammed to suffocation. The Lord Lieutenant and his
Suite attended in State, and all the _elite_ of Dublin were in the dress
tier. When the Conductor, Sir George Smart, led Paganini to the centre
of the stage there was a terrific outburst of applause, followed by
breathless silence, as the great artist went through his deliberate
process of adjusting his violin, raising his bow, and letting it rest
upon the strings before commencing. This was too trying to the mercurial
temperament of the occupants of the gallery, and before many seconds
there was a stentorian shout, "Well! we're all ready!" The house was
convulsed with laughter, peal after peal rang through the theatre.
Paganini, stamping with rage, turned to Sir George Smart, and cried,
"_Qu'est ce que c'est?_" The explanation seemed to make matters worse,
and Paganini left the orchestra. Some time elapsed before he could be
induced to return; but when he did so, and began to play, he created the
same effect as elsewhere. The next day everybody was exclaiming: "Ah!
sure, have you heard the Paganini; och murther! and his fiddle?" Such
is the account Henry Phillips gives, but it is not easy to attach
credence to all he has put in his book.
At one of the concerts Paganini played the concerto in B minor, with the
Rondo _a la clochette_, when an excited Hibernian shouted above the
storm of applause, "Arrah now, Signor Paganini, have a drop of whiskey,
darling, and ring the bell again!" Paganini's departure from Dublin was
as mysterious as his arrival. On his return to London he failed to
attract much attention, and seems to have been mostly on tour in the
provinces and in Scotland. One incident in London was so singular that
it deserves mention. Carlyle was supposed to have taken a walk with
Paganini. Fancy "the Sage of Chelsea" in company with "the magician of
the bow"! Thomas Carlyle was in London in 1831 vainly negotiating for
the publication of "Sartor Resartus." One day his friend, Edward Irving,
took him to Belgrave Square to dine with Henry Drummond. They walked
along Piccadilly, thronged with fashionable promenaders; and as both men
were of pecular personal appearance, they doubtless attracted some
attention. This is what Carlyle subsequently wrote:--"Irving, I heard
afterward, was judged, from the broad hat, brown skin, and flowing black
hair, to be in all probability the one-string fiddler, Paganini--a tall,
lean, taciturn abstruse-looking figure--who was then, after his sort,
astonishing the idle of mankind."[26] Carlyle has said many true, and
many beautiful things about music, but one may search his writings in
vain for a good word about musicians!
In December of this year (1831) Paganini was announced to play in
Bristol. The following "squib" or lampoon was issued:--
PAGANINI.
TO THE CITIZENS OF BRISTOL.
FELLOW CITIZENS,--It is with feelings of unqualified disgust that I
witness the announcement of SIGNOR PAGANINI'S Performance to take
place in this City: Why at this period of Distress? With the
recollection of so many scenes of misery still fresh in our minds,
and whilst SUBSCRIPTIONS are required to the extent of our means in
order to FEED and CLOTHE the POOR: why is this FOREIGN FIDDLER now
to appear? for the purpose of draining those resources which would
be infinitely better applied in the exercise of the best feeling of
man--CHARITY. Do not suffer yourselves to be imposed upon by the
Payment of Charges which are well worthy the name of extortion;
rather suffer under the imputation of a want of TASTE than support
any of the tribe of Foreign MUSIC-MONSTERS, who collect the Cash of
this Country and waft it to their own shores, laughing at the
infatuation of John Bull.
_December 10th, 1831._ PHILADELPHUS.
A. SAINT. TYP. CASTLE PRINTING OFFICE, 54, Castle Street, Bristol.
Paganini's concerts at Leeds, early in 1832, were so well managed that,
out of the profits, a liberal donation was presented to the fund for the
relief of the poor. At Birmingham, in February of that year, his visit
caused such an influx of strangers to the town, that neither lodgings
nor stabling could meet the demand made upon them. A popular song was
written for the occasion, and the streets rang with it long after the
violinist had left the place. Two lines ran thus:--
"It's well worth a guinea to see Paganini,
To see how he curls his hair."
At Brighton some time earlier, the high prices were nearly causing a
riot, through the issue of an inflammatory placard against them. Mr.
William Gutteridge, a well-known musician of that place, who had
arranged for the concerts, had to ask the protection of the magistrates,
but fortunately no outbreak occurred. The squabbles about prices, the
charges of avarice brought against Paganini, and the acrimonious tone of
part of the press, afford melancholy reading. His gains were said to
reach L20,000. In March, 1832, he left London for Paris. There, he gave
a concert for the poor on March 18th. He did not stay very long in
France, and on his way again to this country, occurred the incident
referred to as one of the indignities to which he was subjected. This is
the story.
Paganini having to pass through Boulogne on his way to England, decided
to give a concert in that town, which boasted of a Philharmonic Society.
Paganini deputed a friend to arrange for that Society to assist at the
concert.
All seemed going well until Paganini arrived on the scene, when the
amateurs stipulated for a certain number of free admissions for their
friends and families, as a recognition for their assistance. Paganini
represented to them that in a small concert room so many free admissions
would leave little room for the paying public, and he could not accede
to their demand. However, they would not give way, so Paganini declared
his intention to engage a professional band. This did not suit the views
of the amateurs, and they threatened the professional players with the
loss of patronage and pupils if they dared assist Paganini; and the
unfortunate artists, dependent as they were upon that support, had to
refuse the offer made them. But Paganini was not to be baffled; he
determined to give the concert, and to perform without any accompaniment
at all. This he did; and now came the ludicrous sequel. A number of
those amateurs actually paid for admission to the concert, on purpose to
hiss the independent artist. This they did as soon as he entered the
concert-room. Despising such petty spite, Paganini entrusted his revenge
to his art, and the rapturous plaudits of the audience proper soon
reduced to a pitiable silence those who had offered so gross an insult.
As a writer said at the time: "The amateurs of Boulogne have earned for
themselves a niche in the history of the art--they have _hissed_
Paganini."
To digress, for a moment. Paganini's performance, solus, was a recital
pure and simple; perhaps the first ever given in a concert room. In
Grove's "Dictionary of Music and Musicians" there is this definition:
"Recital, a term which has come into use in England to signify a
performance of solo music by one instrument and one performer." It was
probably first used by Liszt, in 1840, when he advertised his
performances as "Recitals." The first was given at the Hanover
Square Rooms, on June 9th, and was called by the _Musical World_ a
curious exhibition. The "one man show," as the recital has been
irreverently termed, may not conduce to the highest interest of art,
but Paganini--not Liszt--was its inventor.
[Illustration: PLATE 9. (_See Appendix._)]
Paganini made his _rentree_ at Covent Garden Theatre on July 6th, but he
did not appear to have played anything new. Neither did he attract much
attention, and little need be said respecting his visit. He was back
again in London in 1833, but was out of favour, and was advised to
postpone his concerts until the public anger, caused by his refusal to
play for the distressed English actors in Paris, had subsided. His first
concert was given in the King's Theatre, on June 21st, when apparently
he played nothing new, and had but a small audience. The press in
general appeared to be hostile--the _Athenaeum_ did not notice him at
all--and it is probable that his stay was not prolonged. He was in Paris
later in the year, and was present at the concert given by Berlioz on
the 22nd of December, when he heard the _Symphonie Fantastique_, and was
so impressed that he wished Berlioz to write a solo for the wonderful
Stradivari viola he possessed.[27]
Between Paganini and Berlioz there was a mutual attraction. Both had
something of the volcanic in their nature; both did much battling
with the hostile outer world. But more of their friendship later.
Paganini was in London once more in 1834, and gave a concert at the
Adelphi Theatre on April 7th. Again nothing new, according to report.
The next morning he gave a second concert at the Hanover Square Rooms,
at which it was said not more than one hundred persons were present, and
half of those went in with free tickets. The erstwhile popular idol was
now dethroned. Paganini fell ill after this, and postponed his third
concert.
The _Athenaeum_ referred to Paganini's playing to crowded houses at the
Adelphi, and empty benches at the Hanover Square Rooms, and then went on
to say: "His performance on the _Viol di Gamba_,[28] or some such
instrument, is yet to come as is also a duet with Dragonetti, which, we
are told, is to be the _ne plus ultra_ of what is beautiful and amazing.
He has, hitherto, only repeated his best compositions, and, as before,
left every other violinist, ancient and modern, at an inconceivable
distance behind him." This concert was to be the last, which induced the
writer of the _Athenaeum_ notice to attend it. He found the "new
instrument" nothing but a full-sized viola, tuned in the ordinary way.
"Considering the difference of stop between this and the violin, his
precision and brilliancy upon the former, as displayed in double stop
passages, harmonics, and _arpeggi_, of extraordinary difficulty, were
most amazing.... In his grand concerto in E flat, his cadenza was one of
the most wonderful combinations of novel harmony, and passages of
execution, we ever heard." Apparently the duet with Dragonetti was not
played, as nothing was said of it.
The directors of the music at the Oxford Commemoration week, May, 1834,
were anxious to add Paganini's name to the attractions offered. He was
approached, accordingly, and, through his manager, announced his
terms--one thousand pounds. Astounded by the answer, the Oxford Delegate
desired that it might be committed to writing. This was done, but when
shown to Paganini, he directed that guineas should be substituted for
pounds. He knew that art was not commerce! There is no record of his
playing at Oxford.
This last visit of Paganini to England had a romantic termination. He
had separated from Signora Bianca on account of her jealous temper, and
had fallen in love with a young English girl--that is if current report
may be trusted. He proposed, for the purpose of securing her a proper
legal settlement, that the marriage should take place in Paris, and he
left London on June 26th, arranging for her to follow him to Boulogne.
The young lady secretly left her home, but her father had his
suspicions, and apparently arrived at Boulogne first, for the daughter,
instead of meeting Paganini, was confronted, on landing, by her father,
with whom she returned home. There is no doubt as to the occurrence, for
it was "in the papers," and names were given. Schilling, whose
_Encyclopaedia_ was published in 1837, gives a long account of the
affair, which he would not have done had there been no truth in it, even
though the law of libel was not then very stringent. Here it will
suffice to say that the young lady was the daughter of a man with whom
Paganini lodged, and who was associated with the concert work of the
artist. Moreover, the girl herself had, it would seem, sung at some of
the concerts, and had become fascinated with the great violinist.
The incident might be passed over, only for the fact that to it was
owing the impression that Paganini visited America before returning to
Italy. Dubourg, in the later editions of his work "The Violin," states
that Paganini spent part of his time in America, previous to his return
to Italy in 1834. Now George Dubourg was a contemporary of Paganini, and
his statement is not to be dismissed lightly, though he offers no
evidence in support of it. At the present time it is difficult to find
proof, one way or the other. The American papers in 1835 were
speculating as to the birthplace of Paganini, and some of the
explanations were meant to be funny, but are too vapid for repetition
now. The _Musical World_ for August 4th, 1837, in quoting an anecdote
concerning Paganini's kindness to a poor musician, ends by saying
Paganini took the poor man with him to America. The question was raised
in the _Musical World_ for January the 9th, 1886, and decided in the
negative. The legend had this slender foundation. In the early part of
1835, the young lady whom Paganini wished to marry, went to the United
States--she was an actress and vocalist of moderate ability--but her
stay was brief. Still, everybody wished to see her, for wherever she
went she was looked upon as the heroine of a romantic episode, and her
name was always coupled with Paganini's. The story of the elopement had
been carried across the Atlantic by scandal's winged feet; and it was
said that Paganini sent a special messenger to America to reopen
negotiations on the delicate subject--arrangements that came to
nothing. The agent might have been taken, by Dubourg, for the
principal--hence the mistake. Paganini never went to America, neither
did he again return to the shores of Albion.
FOOTNOTES:
[25] Chorley, then living in Liverpool, had previously sent some short
pieces in verse to that paper, but did not become a member of its staff
until 1833.
[26] "Reminiscences," by Thomas Carlyle, I., 311.
[27] Which resulted in the Symphony, "Harold in Italy," with a solo part
for the viola.
[28] The spelling betrays an ignorance of the instrument, though the
writer must have been Chorley himself. Interest in those antique
instruments had not then been revived, nor were there artists to play
upon them.