“The various joltings of life’s hackney coach,â€
“The various joltings of life’s hackney coach,â€
he proceeded to Paris, and entered upon the office; but neither his age, nor his quiet character, was congenial with the temper of such a scene; and he retired, unsuccessful, but with the grant of a pension. He then came over to end his days in England, loving rather to be anhabituéof London, than a citizen of the world; for he had become closely familiarized with the ways and habits of our metropolis, and seemed to have cherished an almost Johnsonian attachment to it. His previous cares and misfortunes, however, had left him little power to continue the race of life, already a protracted one; and, after visibly declining for some time, he died on the 3rd of March, 1824.
Viotti’s long retirement from the profession of that art on which his fame was built, had not impaired his love of it, nor his inclination to support it. On the institution of the Philharmonic Society, that “decus et tutamen†of instrumental music in this country, he was one of the original members, and, as an honorary performer, not only led the band in turn with Salomon, F. Cramer, Yaniewicz, Spagnoletti and Vaccari, but, like them, interchanged direction and submission, bytaking his seat, on the other nights, among theripieni; thus assisting to form an orchestral phalanx that certainly never was witnessed before, and is little likely to be surpassed.
Viotti was a person of feelings and sentiments far less artificial than are commonly produced in men whose intercourse with society is fostered by their powers of contributing to its amusement. Mixing, of necessity, a great deal with the world, he seems, nevertheless, in a remarkable degree, to have preserved himself from its corrupting influence; and though, as just remarked, he loved London much, there is very interesting evidence to shew that he loved nature more. The purity and rectitude of his taste—its association with the poetic and the true—stand thus recorded by one who had good opportunities of appreciating him:—“Never did a man attach so much value (says M. Eymar) to the simplest gifts of nature; and never did a child enjoy them more passionately. A simple violet, discovered in its lowly bed among the grass, would transport him with the liveliest joy; a pear, a plum, gathered fresh by his own hands, would, for the moment, make him the happiest of mortals. The perfume of the one had always something new to him, and the taste of the other something more delicious than before. His organs, all delicacy and sensibility, seemed to have preserved, undiminished, their youthful purity. In the country, everything was, to this extraordinary man, an object of fresh interest and enjoyment. The slightest impression seemed communicated to all his senses at once. Every thing affected his imagination; every thing spoke to his heart, and he yielded himself at once to its emotions.â€
The natural bias of his character receives further illustration in the sketch which he himself has given,descriptive of his picking up one of the varieties of the popularRanz des Vaches, among the mountains of Switzerland.
“TheRanz des Vacheswhich I send you,†says he to a friend, “is neither that with which our friend Jean Jacques has presented us, nor that of which M. de la Borde speaks, in his work upon Music. I cannot say whether it is known or not; all I know is, that I heard it in Switzerland, and, once heard, I have never forgotten it since.
“I was sauntering alone, towards the decline of day, in one of those sequestered spots where we never feel a desire to open our lips. The weather was mild and serene; the wind (which I detest) was hushed; all was calm—all was unison with my feelings, and tended to lull me into that melancholy mood which, ever since I can remember, I have been accustomed to feel at the hour of twilight.
“My thoughts wandered at random, and my footsteps were equally undirected. My imagination was not occupied with any particular object, and my heart lay open to every impression of pensive delight. I walked forward; I descended the valleys, and traversed the heights. At length, chance conducted me to a certain valley, which, on rousing myself from my waking dream, I discovered to abound with beauties. It reminded me of one of those delicious retreats so beautifully described by Gesner: flowers, verdure, streamlets, all united to form a picture of perfect harmony. There, without being fatigued, I seated myself mechanically on a fragment of rock, and again fell into that kind of profound reverie, which so totally absorbed all my faculties, that I seemed to forget whether I was upon earth.
“While sitting thus, wrapped in this slumber of thesoul, sounds broke upon my ear, which were sometimes of a hurried, sometimes of a prolonged and sustained character, and were repeated, in softened tones, by the echoes around. I found they proceeded from a mountain-horn; and their effect was heightened by a plaintive female voice. Struck, as if by enchantment, I started from my lethargy, listened with breathless attention, and learned, or rather engraved upon my memory, theRanz des Vacheswhich I send you. In order to understand all its beauties, you ought to be transplanted to the scene in which I heard it, and to feel all the enthusiasm that such a moment inspired.â€
This susceptibility of pure and simple emotions, which it is delightful to recognize as one of the attributes of real genius, was in Viotti associated with a clear and cultivated intellect. He passed much of his life in the society of the accomplished, the literary, and the scientific; and his active mind gathered strength and refinement from the intercourse. If the Horatian dictum be right, that
“Principibus placuisse viris haud ultima laus est,â€
“Principibus placuisse viris haud ultima laus est,â€
it may be added to the sum of Viotti’s personal merits, that he gained the respect and esteem of the great, with whom he mixed on proper terms, not forgetful of their rank as persons of birth and fortune, nor of his own, as a man of rare talent. The strictest integrity and honour regulated his transactions; and his feelings were kind and benevolent. Thus it may be seen that his character, as a man, was calculated to give increased dignity and influence to his name as a musician.
In the latter capacity, it has, with great truth, been remarked of him, that though thevirtuosiof the present day contrive to execute manual difficulties exceeding those which were attempted in his time, he has neverbeen surpassed in all thehighestqualities that belong to performance on his instrument. His compositions for it remain, to this day, unrivalled in spirit and grandeur of design, graceful melody, and variety of expression; and they still furnish, when performed by the surviving disciples of his school, one of the most delightful treats which a lover of the great and beautiful in music can receive. TheConcerto, in particular, which attained some of its improvements in the hands of the elegant Jarnowick, and the sweetly-expressive Mestrino, derived a marked advancement from Viotti, who gave to this style the character which seems so peculiarly its own, and brought it to a degree of elevation which it seems incapable of surmounting. The specimens of his composition in this line, that principally claim the attention of the amateurs of instrumental music, are those in G, in A minor, in D, and in E minor. The theme of the Concerto in D is in the highest degree brilliant, though it must not be forgotten that it is taken from a trio of Pugnani’s in E flat.
It has been well suggested, as a hint to the solo-players at our London Concerts, that Viotti’s Concertos offer material far more desirable for their use than those eternal “Airs with Variations,†which convey to the feelings of the auditor so little sense of variety, and in general tend to exhibit nothing beyond the dexterity of what the Italians call aspacca-nota, or note-splitter.
The most popular of hisTriosare Op. 16, 17, and 18. The whole of hisDuosare admirable, as respects both invention and energy: they may be called Concertos in miniature36.
Among the disciples of the school of this great master, may be enumerated Rode (on the whole regarded as the best), Alday, Labarre, Vacher, Cartier, Pixis, Madame Paravicini, Mademoiselle Gerbini, and our countryman, Mori.
Francesco Vaccari, born at Modena, about the year 1772, commenced his practice of the instrument at the infantine age of five years, under the tutelage of his father, who, delighted with his quickness of apprehension, would frequently encourage him to play at sight, not by the gauds and “immoment toys†that are the common habits of childhood, but by gifts of new music. After four years of domestic study, he was introduced by his father to Pugnani, who, with a natural mistrust of precocious powers, did not like, at first, to be troubled with “child’s-play,†although, on hearing him, he could not refrain from applauding his execution. The boy went afterwards to Florence, and had instructions from Nardini. The habit so early instilled into him by his father, of playing at first sight, procured him a triumph at Mantua, when he was yet but thirteen; for he was enabled to execute, without hesitation, a new Concerto which Pichl, its composer, placed before him. In 1804, after he had visited most of the great towns in Italy, he obtained from the King of Spain the appointment of First Violin of his chamber-band. The disturbed state of that country drove him into Portugal; and he was, at two several periods, performing in England. Vaccari was distinguished by purity of tone and of taste, a tender expression, execution without trick, and a nice exactitude of intonation.
Masoni, a Florentine, born 1799, attained very brilliant powers of execution, which he displayed chiefly in foreign countries—quitting Italy in 1817, for SouthAmerica, from whence, after various migratory musical labours, he passed over to India, and stirred to liveliest emotion the languid people of Calcutta. In the spring of 1834, he visited England, where histours de force, and surprising dexterities of bowing, would have won for him a more copious admiration than they did, if, instead of coming so closely in the rear of the Genoese “Miracle of Man,†who had well nigh exhausted our stock of musical sympathies, he had been his antecedent. I would here ask the gentle reader’s indulgence towards the following bit of measured hyperbole, perpetrated at the above time, and admitted into a weekly publication of Mr. Leigh Hunt’s:—
If your soul be not toodrony,Haste, to hear renowned Masoni!Scarce Napoleon (nick-named Boney)Was more wondrous than Masoni!‘Pollo’s pet, Euterpe’s crony,Is the exquisite Masoni.All the sweets that live in honeyAre concentred in Masoni!Fiddlersshouldbe rich andtoney—This—andmore, is great Masoni.Swifter, far, than hare or poney,Run the triplets of Masoni—And Astonishment bendslowkneeTo the flights of high Masoni!Utterlyhimselfunknown heShould be, whonotknows Masoni.Dead must be the heart, andstony,That is moved not by Masoni!Money, without ceremony,Shower’dshould be on Masoni!E’en from Greece ColocotroniWell might come, to hear Masoni!So, again I tell ye,on’yGo, and listen to Masoni!
If your soul be not toodrony,Haste, to hear renowned Masoni!Scarce Napoleon (nick-named Boney)Was more wondrous than Masoni!‘Pollo’s pet, Euterpe’s crony,Is the exquisite Masoni.All the sweets that live in honeyAre concentred in Masoni!Fiddlersshouldbe rich andtoney—This—andmore, is great Masoni.Swifter, far, than hare or poney,Run the triplets of Masoni—And Astonishment bendslowkneeTo the flights of high Masoni!Utterlyhimselfunknown heShould be, whonotknows Masoni.Dead must be the heart, andstony,That is moved not by Masoni!Money, without ceremony,Shower’dshould be on Masoni!E’en from Greece ColocotroniWell might come, to hear Masoni!So, again I tell ye,on’yGo, and listen to Masoni!
The length to which these notices of the artists of Italy has already extended, is one of the reasons precluding detail with respect to some others of the later names belonging to that country. Paganini, however, is neither to be thus dismissed, nor to be here briefly treated of at the end of a chapter. To him, as standing alone in the history and practice of his art, and as forming an object of very widely-diffused curiosity, I propose devoting a separate notice in the ensuing chapter. I cannot, in the mean time, omit wholly to advert to the name of Spagnoletti, whose taste and refinement, in the conspicuous situation which he filled for so many years in London, rendered him a highly valued model for the attention of our own cultivators of the instrument. Who is there amongst those who were frequenters of the King’s Theatre, during his time of office, that will not recollect, with feelings of interest, the delicate grace of Spagnoletti’s playing—his obviously intense, yet not obtrusive, enthusiasm—and his oft-repeated sidelong depressions of the head, as if to drink in more fully, at the left ear, the delicious tones which he enticed from his own instrument? His peculiar sensitiveness under the impression of a false note, and his liberality of spirit, and readiness to speak commendingly of his brethren of the bow, are among the further traits which denoted him to those who had the opportunity of closer observation. Spagnoletti’s original name is said to have been Paolo Diana. I have heard an anecdote which, if it may be depended on, exemplifies his quickness of temper. It was to the effect that Spagnoletti, having chanced to quarrel one morning with Ambrogetti, challenged him on the spot; and that the singer put aside the abrupt invitation, by the phlegmatic remark that he hadnot breakfasted!
“Natura il fece, e poi ruppe la stampa.â€â€”Ariosto.“The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.â€â€”Pope.
Who has not heard of Paganini—and who, that boasts of an ear, has not heard Paganini himself? Fame, catching up the echoes of his glory, has caused them to reverberate through her trump, and tofar furoreeven to the uttermost parts of the civilized world; and the hero himself, following in her rear, has gone forth to fulfil her proclamations, to reap his laurels, to achieve the general conquest of ears, and to receive in gold the tribute of admiring nations! Tongues and pens have vied with each other in celebrating his name; and‘Ercles’ veinhas been drawn upon in his behalf, till its exhausted stream could no further go.
Nicolo Paganinicame into this breathing world at Genoa. The date of his birth, like most of the circumstances of his life, has been variously represented; but the most probable account fixes it on the 18th of February, 1784. His parents were of humble rank, but not so low as has been pretended in some of the “supposures hypothetical†that have been mixed up with the history of their marvel-moving son. To suit the humorof these fancies, theconjecturedfather has been depressed to the condition of a street-porter, bearing (along with his burdens) some name too obscure to be recorded; while the person known as Paganinipèrehas been asserted to possess no other rights of paternity than what are conferred by adoption. This story, were it a true one, would reflect no discredit on an artist who has owed to his own genius the wide celebrity attaching to his name. “Miserum est aliorum incumbere famæ,†says the Roman poet; and the feeling of modern times is daily more and more confirming the sentiment. By another version, the father of Paganini has been styled a small trader, with a large tendency to seek his fortune through the calculation of lottery-chances. His actual station, as appears most likely, was originally that of a mercantile clerk; and it is concurrently allowed that this father, putative or positive, had music enough in his soul, or in his head, to perceive the indications of the faculty in his infant son, and to resolve on its full development; although the means he took for this purpose were as little creditable to his paternal pretensions, as they were injudicious with reference to their object. Ere yet the boy, however, had received into his tiny hands the instrument that was destined to make him “a miracle of man,†the world, it appears, was very near being deprived of him altogether! It is stated that, at the age of four years, he was attacked by the measles, attended, in his case, with unusually aggravated symptoms. So extraordinary an influence did the disease exercise on his nervous system, that he remained during an entire day in the state of catalepsy, or apparent death, and had actually been enveloped in a shroud, when a slight movement fortunately revealed the fact of his existence, and saved him from the horrors of a premature interment.
The musical discipline adopted by his father appears to have begun in pretty close sequence to this shock; and the days of hard work for poor little Paganini were made to commence, by a shameful perversion, before he could plainly speak. As soon as he could hold a violin, his father put one into his hands, and made him sit beside him from morning till night, to practise it. The willing enthusiasm of the child, as well as the tenderness of his age, might have disarmed the severity of any ordinary preceptor; but the rigor of a stern father, when sharpened by ambition and avarice,canforget the measure of an infant’s powers. The slightest fault, the most pardonable inadvertence, was harshly visited upon the Liliputian performer; and even the privation of food was sometimes resorted to, as part of the barbarous system to enforce precocity. A lasting influence of baneful kind was thus wrought upon a constitution naturally delicate and sensitive: the sickly child, incapable of attaining a healthful maturity, was merged into the suffering man.
His mother, with equal but more tender zeal for the development of the talent of young Paganini, succeeded in inspiring him with no slight portion of her own enthusiasm, by persuading him that an angel had appeared to her in a vision, and had assured her that he should outstrip all competition as a performer on the violin. Whether this vision was the result of a pardonable stratagem, or whether it was really the dream of a southern imagination, it is certain that it had the greatest effect on the mind of the infant artist, whose instinctive and irresistible inclination for the art made him an easy recipient of this maternal tale of encouragement. He began also to relish the domestic plaudits which were occasionally awarded to him for the boldness wherewithhe produced new, if not legitimate, effects, indicative of future mastery over the powers of the instrument; for the instinct of his mind towardsthe extraordinarywas, even thus early, a thing clearly discernible. He speedily outstripped his father’s slender reach of musical knowledge, as well as that of a minor violinist named Cervetto, who, for a short time, attempted to teach him. Giacomo Costa, director of the orchestra, and first violin in the principal churches, at Genoa, was next charged with his musical direction, and led him more rapidly onwards. At this period (when he was about eight years old), he was to be seen performing some three times a week in the churches, and at private musical parties, upon a fiddle that looked nearly as large as himself. At this time, too, he composed his first Violin Sonata, which, with others of his early musical pennings, is, unfortunately, not extant. A year later, he made what was considered his publicdébut, in the great theatre of Genoa, at the request of the noted singers, Marchesi and Albertinotti, who begged of his father to allow the youthful artist to play for their benefit, undertaking, in return, to sing for Paganini at the first concert he should offer to the public. On both occasions, he played a series of variations, believed to be his own, on the French republican air, “La Carmagnole,†which were received with a force of approbation that seemed to carry with it the conviction of his future fame. Already, indeed, had his native genius urged him into a new path, both as tofingeringand the management of thebow.
Stimulated by the opening prospects of solid advantage, his father next carried him to Parma, then the residence of Alessandro Rolla, in order to place him under the care of that celebrated composer. It so happenedon their arrival, that Rolla was confined to his room by indisposition; and the strangers, having been shown into a neighbouring apartment, found there, on a table, the score of a work which the composer had just finished. At the suggestion of his father, Paganini took up the violin which lay by the manuscript, and performed the new concerto at sight, with so much point and precision as to raise the sick composer from his bed, that he might ascertain to what master’s hand he owed this agreeable surprise! The father, having explained the object of their visit, was assured by Rolla that he was incapable of adding any thing to his son’s acquirements: he advised them to go to Paër, who was then the director of the Conservatory at Parma. Paër, in his turn, directed his visitors to his old master, Giretti, who received young Paganini as one of his pupils, and for six months gave him regular lessons in counterpoint. The good use which he made of this short apprenticeship is proved by the four-and-twenty fugues which he composed in the course of it. His rapid progress inspired Paër with so lively an interest in his success, that he also devoted several hours a day to his instruction, and, at the end of four months, entrusted him with the composition of aduo, which was eminently successful. But these advantages were interrupted by the removal of Paër to Venice, where he had undertaken the composition of an opera.
Thus additionally qualified for the gratification of the “auri sacra fames†in the paternal breast, Paganini was now hawked about the country in a professional tour (at the commencement of 1797), through the principal cities of Lombardy; after which the father and son returned to Genoa, where the youthful artist was again subjected to those daily toils which had previously beenforced on him with such wanton rigor: but the bonds were not to be of much longer endurance. In his 14th year, he was permitted, under the protection of an elder brother, to attend the Musical Festival of St. Martin, which is annually celebrated at Lucca, in the month of November; and, after meeting with a very flattering reception in all his public appearances, he extended his tour among the towns in the neighbourhood. The extreme degree of severity and restraint, with which his education had hitherto been conducted, was now beginning to work its natural result. At the age of fifteen, finding himself relieved from all effectual control by means of the ascendancy of his talent, and capable of attaining, through the same means, unlimited pecuniary supplies, he commenced the itinerant system on his own account; and soon, by a reaction of mind, that is in no degree surprising, acquired a decided partiality for a course of life that was accompanied by freedom from the trammels of such a father. The bonds of affection towards that persecuting parent were only loosened, however, not severed; for, after acquiring, by his independent exertions, a sum equal to about a thousand pounds, he proposed to assign a portion of it towards the maintenance of his father and mother. The cupidity of the former rejected this, and demanded the whole. The interest of the capital was then offered, equally in vain; and the violence of the father proceeded to the extent (as it has been asserted) of threatening Paganini with instant death, unless the whole of the principal were relinquished to him. This outrage, supposing it true, appears but a concentration, as it were, of the ill usage more diffusely applied before. To procure peace—perhaps to save his life—Paganini gave up the greater part of the sum.
Resuming the exercise of his emancipated powers,Paganini visited many parts of Italy, and was flattered and rewarded in all. The intoxication of his rapid successes, combined with his joy at the escape from domestic fetters, seem to have led him into some youthful excesses at this period, and to have made the roving course of his travel rathertooclose a type of his moral career—
Erring here, and wandering there,Pleas’d with transgression every where.
Erring here, and wandering there,Pleas’d with transgression every where.
The increased celebrity which he afterwards acquired, or rather, perhaps, the jealous envy by which such celebrity is commonly pursued, has exercised a magnifying effect upon these early aberrations, and presented them as crimes of a serious and disgraceful nature. Whenever duly examined, they will be probably found to shrink back into something not greatly beyond peccadillo proportions. The feverish and unhealthy excitement besetting his peculiar position should be taken into full account, in forming a moral estimate of his youthful course. That the seductions of the gaming-table for a while swayed his fancy, and checquered his fortunes, is made clear by his own confession, which I will here extract from the interesting “Notice Biographique†by Monsieur Fétis (written as apendantto the Collection of Paganini’s Compositions, about to appear in Paris), to which pamphlet I am indebted for some of the additional facts in the present sketch.
“I shall never forget,†says Paganini, “that I once placed myself in a position which was to form the turning point of my whole career. The Prince De* * * * *had long felt a desire to become the possessor of my excellent violin, which I still retain, and which wasthenthe only one I had. He sent to me one day, in the endeavour to make me fix a price for it; but, reluctant topart with my instrument, I declared that I would only do so for 250 gold Napoleons. The Prince remarked to me, shortly afterwards, that I was probably joking when I asked so much, but that he was disposed to go as far as 2000 francs. I was, that very day, in much embarrassment as to funds, owing to a considerable loss encountered atplay; so that I was on the point of resolving to give up my violin for the sum offered, when a friend came in, with an invitation to join a party in the evening. My whole supply amounted to thirty francs; and I had already stripped myself of my watch, jewels, rings, pins, &c. I formed the instant resolve to hazard my last pittance, and then, if fortune were adverse, to sell the violin for what had been offered, and set off for Petersburgh, without either instrument or property, there to re-establish my circumstances. My thirty francs were presently reduced tothree,—and I fancied myself already on the road towards the great city, when fortune, shifting like the glance of an eye, turned my petty remainder into a gain of 160 francs. That favorable moment rescued my fiddle, and set me on my feet. From that day, I renounced gaming, to which a portion of my youth had been sacrificed; and, in the conviction that a gambler is universally despised, I abandoned for ever that fatal passion.â€
The imperilled instrument above referred to, appears to have been the same that figures in the following anecdote, as related by M. Fétis. Whilst the youthful artist was still under the dominion of the passion for play, that sometimes robbed him, in a single evening, of the produce of more than one concert, and sometimes did not leave to him even his violin, he had recourse (at Leghorn) to the kindness of a French merchant, Monsieur Livron, a zealous musical amateur, who veryreadily lent him a fine Guarnerius instrument. After the concert for which it had been required, Paganini took it back to the owner, who, however, declined to receive it, saying, “I shall take good care how I profane the strings that your fingers have touched! It is toyouthat my violin now belongs.†The instrument was afterwards used by Paganini at all his concerts.
A similar incident occurred to him at Parma, though under different circumstances. Pasini, a painter, with musical propensities, had refused to credit the prodigious facility attributed to Paganini, in the way of playing thecrabbedestmusic at sight, like one who had fully studied it. The sceptic therefore placed before him a manuscript concerto, in which all manner of difficulties had been brought together, and, handing to him an excellent Straduarius instrument, exclaimed, “This isyours, if you play that at sight, like a master.†“In that case,†observed Paganini, “you may say farewell to it at once;†and, in fact, hisfulminatingexecution presently threw the convinced Pasini into an ecstasy of admiration.
To those earlier days belongs also the fact of Paganini’s transient passion for theguitar, or rather for a certain fair Tuscan lady, who incited him to the study of that feebler instrument—of which she was herself a votary. Applying his acute powers to the extension of its resources, he soon made the guitar an object of astonishment to his fair friend; nor did he resume in earnest that peculiar symbol of his greatness, the violin, till after a lapse of nearly three years. Paganini tickling the guitar, may almost suggest, for analogy, Hercules dallying with the distaff!
After declining, for the freer indulgence of his rambles, various offers of profitable engagement on permanent grounds, he was induced to enter, in 1805, the service of Napoleon’s sister with the exquisite name (Elisa Bacciocchi), then Princess of Lucca and Piombino, to whose elegant little court several distinguished artists were at that time attracted. Paganini became concertist and director of the orchestra there; and it was in this situation that he first attempted the execution of those triumphs of art underdiminished resources, that have had, in the sequel, so large a share in the production of his success with the multitude. I allude to his acquired habit, displayed from time to time, of dispensing with the aid oftwoor eventhreeof the strings of his instrument, and working apparent impossibilities with the remainingtwoorone—a habit which, owing to his occasional abuse of it, has laid him open to a charge of charlatanism, even from the Italians. His incredible address in these extraordinary efforts, produced a degree of astonishment which may probably have given rise to some of those rumours, both romantic and ludicrous, that have been so freely associated with his name. The explanation he has himself given of the origin of these performances, in the following letter to a friend, seems so consistent with his disposition at the period, that it may very readily command the preference in point of credibility:—
“At Lucca,†he says, “I led the orchestra whenever the Reigning Family attended the opera. I was often sent for also to the court circle,—and once a fortnight I gave a grand concert,—but the Princess Eliza retired always before the conclusion, declaring that her nerves were too keenly affected by the sounds of my instrument. A certain lady, on the contrary, whom I had long adored in secret, was constant and assiduous in her attendance at these musical meetings.I thought I could perceive that some secret influence attracted her towards me. Our mutual passion insensibly increased; but, as motives of prudence made secrecy indispensable, and forbade any open declaration, the idea occurred to me of surprising her with a piece of musical gallantry, which would convey to her the expression of my feelings. Having announced my intention to produce a novelty at Court, under a title (that of “A Love Sceneâ€) well calculated to excite the general curiosity, I could observe that that feeling was not diminished on my entering the music-room, with a violin provided with onlytwo strings, the first and the fourth. Thefirstwas intended to express the sentiments of a lady; thefourth, those of a despairing lover. Between the two, I established a sort of impassioned dialogue, in which the tenderest accents succeeded the violence of repeated fits of jealousy. Alternately plaintive and insinuating, there was at one moment a cry of grief or anger, and the next, of joyful reconciliation. The whole scene was eminently successful; the lady to whom it referred rewarded me by looks full of delighted amiability; and the princess Eliza, after loading me with praises, enquired if, after doing the impossible withtwostrings,onemight not possibly suffice me. I instantly gave my promise to make the attempt; and, a few weeks afterwards, I produced aSonata on the fourth string, which I entitled “Napoleon,†and executed it on the 25th of August, before a brilliant and numerous Court. Its success having far surpassed my expectation, I may date from that period my predilection for the lower string; and, as my audience seemed never to tire of the pieces I had composed for it, I have at length arrived at that degree of facility which appears to have so much surprised you.â€
To find out sufficient scope for an entire field of melody, as the produce of a single musical string, must have demanded great study, as well as unremitting manual practice. Paganini extended the capability of the string to three octaves, including the harmonic sounds, which he developed into a most important resource. The success of this novelty was prodigiously increased, after he had presented it beyond the courtly circle, and made it public37.
When the Princess Eliza became Grand Duchess of Tuscany, Paganini followed her to Florence, where he became an object of even fanatic admiration. His talent developed itself daily in new forms; but he had as yet very imperfectly learned to regulate its exercise. The amount of study, however, to which he had subjected himself, after ceasing to be the slave of his father, is a thing to excite astonishment. He had abandoned himself, in solitude, to the research with which his mind was occupied; and had then formed the plan of theStudieswhich are known under his name, and wherein he proposed difficulties that he himself could not surmount without immense labour. It is a remarkable fact, also, that he suddenly interrupted his enquiries as to the possibility of augmenting the resources of the violin, in order to study seriously the works of Corelli, Vivaldi, Tartini, Pugnani and Viotti, and to ascertain the successive progress of his instrument. He afterwards familiarized himself with the works of the Violinists of France.
In the summer of 1808, after three years passed at Lucca, Paganini, with the consent of his patroness,visited Leghorn, which city had been a scene of triumph to him seven years previously. How, at his first concert on this re-appearance, a cloud was converted into sunshine, has been pleasantly enough recorded by himself:—
“Having accidentally run a nail into my heel, I came on the stagelimping—and the public greeted me witha laugh. At the moment when I was beginning my concerto, the tapers fell from my music-stand, drawing a fresh burst of laughter from the audience. Again, after the first few bars of the solo, my upper string broke—which raised the merriment to a climax:—but I went through the piece upon three strings—and the laughter was turned into shouts of enthusiasm.â€
Still retaining his engagement in the service of the Princess Bacciocchi, who was now become Grand Duchess of Tuscany, and established at Florence with her court, the great artist made professional excursions to various Italian cities—including one to Turin (where he was first attacked by the abdominal ailment which, in the sequel, so much enfeebled his health, and so often interrupted his travels, and disturbed the order of his concerts)—and another to Ferrara, where his grotesque mode of retaliation for an affront received in public, led to such a misunderstanding with the townspeople, as caused some jeopardy to his life.
About the commencement of 1813, his position at the Court of the Grand Duchess Eliza was suddenly and disagreeably abolished. On a certain state occasion, Paganini appeared in the orchestra in the full-blown uniform of a Captain of theGendarmerie Royale, which, as a general privilege, his fair patroness had authorized him to wear. He was now requested, however, to exchange it immediately for a suit of plain black. The sudden shock to his dignity was met by a refusal to complywith the order, and the result of this bearding of authority was his precipitate retreat from Florence, with (it is probable) a resolution to decline all future offers of a “fixed position.â€
In the city of Milan, where Paganini found many congenial attractions, he passed a considerable time, at various epochs of his life. There he first saw, and entered into friendship with, Rossini. There, too (in March 1816), occurred, within the walls ofLa Scala, his contest with Lafont, the champion of French renown in the fiddle field. The story has been variously represented. It appears that Lafont challenged Paganini to join him in a concert, and conceived great hopes of beating him, when, after acceptance of the proposal, the wary Italian was found to make a very indifferent exhibition of power at the previous rehearsal. When the rival display came on in earnest, however, the impression produced by Lafont, with his fine tone, and his graceful and elegant performance, was presently eclipsedin totoby the superlative mastery shewn in the performance of the Genoese enchanter, who purposely followed in the track of his competitor, to establish his superiority at all points—outweighing him in the deliberateadagio, and outstripping him in all the agile feats of execution, besides transcending him wholly in the nicerarcanaof the art. Of this purport, at least, is the more common and probable account of the affair. But, if the Frenchman was thus conspicuously beaten, it would seem that (as in the case of Falstaff) it would “discolor too much the complexion of his greatness†to acknowledge it: Monsieur Lafont wrote a letter of negation to a French journal, some fourteen years after the momentous day. In this letter he even decides himself to have obtained a partial advantage, alluding to some particular “phrasede chant,â€â€”and he indulges in this passage:—“On all occasions I have taken pleasure in rendering homage to his great talent but I have never said that he was thefirst violinist in the world: I have not done such injustice to the celebrated men, Kreutzer, Rode, Baillot, and Habeneck and I declare now, as I have always done, that the French school is the first in this world for the violin!â€â€”To this self-and-country-vaunting epistle, as translated in theHarmonicon, Lafont found a respondent (April 7, 1830) in Signor Francesco Cianchettini, who asserts, as one present on the occasion, that the public decision was in favour of the Italian, and compares the vain glory of French fiddlers, in their talk of Paganini, to the empty freedom of the gladiators of the Neronian age, in speaking of Hercules.
Paganini’s own account of the affair exhibits a modest simplicity, tending to confirm any previous impressions of his having been the victor. After quoting it, however, Monsieur Fétis, who has repeatedly heard Lafont’s relation of the circumstances, offers some remarks, which it is but right here to subjoin:—“It is not to be denied,†says he, “that Lafont displayed much imprudence on that occasion. Doubtless he possessed qualities of a classic order, more pure, and more analogous to the French taste of his time, than those of Paganini. Doubtless he had greater volume and evenness of tone: but, with respect to original fancy, the poetry of playing, and the mastery over difficulties, he could place himself in no comparison with his antagonist. In a concert at the ParisConservatoire, the palm, in 1816, would perhaps have been awarded tohim(Lafont): but, in presence of an Italian audience, eager for novelty, originality, and impulsion, he must needs have succumbed.†To continue our narrative of Paganini’s “life, behaviour and conversation,â€â€”the French musical Amateur, Count de Stendhal (Monsieur Beyle) has alluded to him descriptively at two periods. In 1814, he observes, “Paganini, the Genoese, is, it appears to me, the first violinist in Italy. He cultivates an exceeding softness of expression. He plays concertos as unmeaning as those which set us gaping at Paris; but his delicate softness is always a distinction in his favour. I love especially to hear him execute variations on the fourth string of his instrument.†And again, in 1817, he writes of him, as of a Genoese who played very finely on the violin—being “equal to the Frenchin execution, and superior in fire and originality!â€â€”Mathews, the author of the “Diary of an Invalid,†offers the following remarks on him in the year 1818:—“He is a man of eccentric character and irregular habits. Though generally resident at Turin, he has no fixed engagement, but, as occasion may require, makes a trading voyage through the principal cities of Italy, and can always procure a theatre, upon the condition of equal participation in the receipts. Many stories are told of the means by which he has acquired his astonishing style; such as having been imprisoned ten years, with no other resource. His performance bears the stamp of the eccentricity of his character. His tone, and the thrilling intonation of his double stops, are electric. His bow moves as if it were part of himself, and endued with life and feeling.â€
In proof of the extensive sphere of his attraction, the following anecdote, having reference to the year 1824, has been published. A northern traveller, and passionate lover of music, M. Bergman, reading accidentally, the evening before, in the Journal, at Leghorn,an announcement of Paganini’s concert, instantly set out for Genoa, a distance of 100 miles, and luckily reached the spot just half an hour before the concert began! He came with his expectations raised to the utmost; but, to use his own expression, the reality was as far above his anticipations, as the heavens are above the earth. Nor could this enthusiastic amateur rest content with once hearing Paganini, but actually followed him to Milan, to hear himde novo. Of the two concerts which the great artist gave atLa Scalaat that time, the first consisted entirely (as far as regarded his own performance) of exhibitions on the fourth string! and may be said to form a remarkable antithesis to the case of the man so specially indicated by the late Charles Mathews, as havinglosthis G! The public were in ecstacies; but it was observed, with some regret, by the judicious among Paganini’s auditors at these two concerts, that he was neglecting thecantabile, and the nobler powers of his instrument, for the difficult and astonishing. Yet it was to no want of sensibility in the soul of the artist, that this deviation was to be attributed; for he had before expressed his high admiration of Spohr, the German violinist, so celebrated for the excellence of hiscantabile, and had given him full credit for being the greatest and most perfectsingerupon his instrument—retaining, however, the satisfactory consciousness, as it has been supposed, of his own immeasurable superiority in theaggregateof the qualities for which all the greatest masters have been distinguished.
At Pavia, Paganini likewise gave two concerts, and was received with no less enthusiasm than at Milan. The bill which set forth the pieces to be performed was headed with the following autocratical annunciation:—
PAGANINI.
Farà sentire il suo Violino!
(“Paganini will cause his violin to be heard!â€)
In the bills of a concert he gave at Naples, in 1825, his name was announced with the style and title ofFilarmonico; and various sage debates and conjectures were the consequence, among the idlers of the place.
But it is needless to go thrice over the map of Italy, and detail all the triumphs of our acoustic hero among his own countrymen. Let us shift the scene to Germany, and the time to the year 1828, when he was exhibiting before the people at Vienna, and exciting the admiration and astonishment of the most distinguished professors and connoisseurs of that critical city. His inducement to quit his native Italy had been furnished, it appears, by Prince Metternich, who had witnessed his performances in the preceding year at Rome, when the Pope (soit dit en passant) had conferred on our Artist the order of the Golden Spur, an honor which had formerly been awarded to Gluck and Mozart.
All notion of rivalling the foreigner was at once banished from among the Germans; and it is said that Mayseder, their violinist of then highest fame, with an ingeniousness that did him honor, intimated, in a letter to a London friend, that he felt he might now lock up his violin as soon as he liked!
The successes of Paganini gave new currency to the tales of crime anddiableriewhich inventive fame, “ficti pravique tenax,†had so often circulated in connection with him. A captain of banditti—a Carbonaro—a dungeon-détenu—a deadly duellist—a four-mistress man—a friend of Beelzebub—a “bowl-and-dagger†administrator—theseare some of the characters that werefreely assigned to him. Over the mouth of his aged mother,in articulo mortis, he was asserted to have placed a leathern tube, and to have caught her last breath at the S holes of his fiddle!—He was made out, in short, the verybeau idéalof a fellow that might do the “First Murderer†in a Melodrama. These romantic rumours, however they might assist his success with the public, could not be passed by in silence. The injured, yet profited, object of them, made a public manifesto of his innocence in the leading Journals of Vienna, and appealed to the magistrates of the various States under whose protection he had lived, to say if he had ever offended against the laws. This was all very well; but, what was still better, enough of the pleasing delusion remained, in spite of all disavowals, to render Paganini the continued pet of the public. Indeed, a general intoxication with regard to him prevailed for some time with the Viennese public. Verses were daily poured forth in honour of him—medals were struck—and Fashion made profuse appropriation of his name to her various objects. Hats, gloves, gowns, stockings, wereà la Paganini:—purveyors of refreshment fortified their dishes with his name; and if a brilliant stroke were achieved at billiards, it was likened unto a stroke of his bow! snuff-boxes and cigar-cases displayed his portrait—and his bust was carved upon the walking-stick of the man of mode.
Amid the glare of the enchanter’s triumphs, it is pleasing to discover, in a record of a concert given for the benefit of the poor, that the cause of benevolence was not forgotten;—nor will it be uninteresting to bestow a moment’s attention on the following little anecdote, which certainly reveals something not unlike a heart:—
One day, while walking in the streets of Vienna,Paganini saw a poor boy playing upon his violin, and, on entering into conversation with him, found that he maintained his mother, and an accompaniment of little brothers and sisters, by what he picked up as an itinerant musician. Paganini immediately gave him all the money he had about him; and then, taking the boy’s violin, commenced playing, and, when he had got together a crowd, pulled off his hat, and made a collection, which he gave to the poor boy, amid the acclamations of the multitude.
The following fact will give some idea of the hearty love of music, the realdilettantism, prevailing among the peasants of Germany. In the autumn of 1829, Paganini was summoned to perform 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. At the moment when the concert was about to begin, a great bustle was heard outside. The Queen, having enquired the cause, was told that about sixty of the neighbouring peasants, informed of the arrival of the famous Italian violinist, were come, in the hope of hearing some of his notes, and requested that the windows should be opened, in order thattheyalso 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 marking their discernment, evidenced by the judicious manner in which they applauded the most striking parts of the performance.
Prague, Dresden, Berlin and Warsaw were successively visited by the triumphant ear-charmer. Great was the excitement he produced at Berlin—but somewhat contradictory the opinions about him. “Most assuredly,†said one journalist, “Paganini is a prodigy;and all that the most celebrated violinists have executed heretofore is mere child’s play, compared with the inconceivable difficulties which he has created, in order to be the first to surmount them.†The same writer declared that Paganini executed an air, quitesostenuto, on one string, while, at the same time, atremoloaccompaniment upon the next was perfectly perceptible, as well as a very livelypizzicatoupon the fourth string: that he executed runs of octaves on the single string of G with as much promptitude, precision and firmness, as other violinists ontwo. Nay, his celebrator went so far as to say that, in order to produce this latter effect, he employed one finger only; and further declared him able to render the four strings of the instrument available to such a degree, as to form concatenations of chords that could be heard together, and that produced as full and complete harmony as that of six fingers of a pianoforte-player on the key-board; adding, moreover, that, in moments of the mostdaring vivacity, every one of his notes had all the roundness and sonorousness of a bell! Another journalist averred that he was incapable of producing agrandtone, but that he executed theadagio, and impassionedcantilenas, with profound sensibility and great perfection of style. It was the remark of another critic, that “whoever had not heard Paganini, might consider that there existed alacunain the chain of his musical sensations.â€
Lipinski, a Pole, had ventured to seek, at Placentia, in 1818, a contest with Paganini, such as Lafont had previously sought. Whilst at Berlin, he met with athirdchallenge to a trial of skill. Sigismund Von Praun, an ambitious youth, asserting claims to universal genius—a counterfeit Crichton—attempted to dispute the palm with him, and paraded a public defiance in the papers:but, this time, Apollo would not compete with Marsyas Praun, who had made some impression, a few years before, at Malta and other places, appears to have had talents far from contemptible, although immature, but his presumption exposed him to merited ridicule:—