FÉtis 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 FÉtis 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 À 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]

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 (ScotticÉ, boo) is almost as wonderful as his bow (AnglicÉ, 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,

Nicolo Paganini.

To M. Laporte.

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: £100, 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."

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 AthenÆum, 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 piÙ andrai." The receipts were £700. 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 AthenÆum 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 £1,200. 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 MosÉ in Egitto was introduced. The third concert took place on the 13th, when Paganini brought out another new Concerto. Something like £900 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 piÙ 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.