On the 29th of March, the first concert of this great artist threw the Viennese population into an indescribable paroxysm of enthusiasm. “The first note he played on his Guarnerius (says M. Schilling, in poetical style, in his “Universal-Lexicon der Musik”)—indeed, from his first step into the room—his reputation was decided in Germany. Acted upon as by an electric spark, a brilliant halo of glory appeared to invest his whole person; he stood before us like a miraculous apparition in the domain of art.” The Vienna journals were unlimited in hyperbolical expressions of admiration; and the immense crowd whom he had enchanted at this concert, unceasingly poured forth hymns of praise to the glory of the enchanter, for two months. The most eminent artists of the Austrian capital, Mayseder, Jansa, Slawich, Léon de St. Lubin, Strebinger, Böhm, and others, all admitted his performance to be incomparable. Other concerts given on the 13th, 16th, 18th, of April, etc., created universal intoxication. Verses appeared in every publication—medals were struck—the name of Paganini engrossing all; and, as M. Schottky remarks, everything was à la Paganini. Fashion assumed his name. Hats, dresses, gloves, shoes, etc., bore his name. Cooks designated certain productions after him; and any extraordinary stroke at billiards was compared to a bow movement of the artist. His portrait appeared on snuff-boxes and cigar-cases; in fact, his bust surmounted the walking-sticks of fashionable men. After a concert given for the benefit of the poor, the magistrate of Vienna presented to Paganini the large gold medal of St. Salvador, and the Emperor conferred upon him the title of virtuoso of his private band.
A lengthened sojourn in the capital of Austria, and numerous concerts, did not in the least diminish the impression Paganini had created on his arrival. The same ovations were showered upon him in every town of Germany. Prague, from certain traditionary opposition to the musical opinions of Vienna, alone received him coldly; but Berlin so amply avenged this indifference, that he exclaimed at his first concert, “Here is my Vienna public!” After an uninterrupted series of triumphs, during three years, in Austria, Bohemia, Saxony, Poland, Bavaria, Prussia, and in the Rhenish provinces, after unceasing ovations of Vienna, Dresden, Berlin, and Frankfort, the celebrated artist arrived at Paris, and gave his first concert at the Opera, the 9th of March, 1831. His studies for the Violin, which had been published there for some time—a species of enigma which had perplexed every violinist; the European fame of the artist, his travels and triumphs, raised the curiosity of the artists and the public. It is impossible to describe the enthusiasm his first concert created—it was universal frenzy. Tumultuous applause preceded and followed all his performances, the audience rose en masse to recall him after each, and nothing was heard but general approbation and amazement. The same enthusiasm prevailed during his entire stay in Paris.
Towards the middle of May he left this city, and proceeded to London, where he was expected with the utmost impatience, but not with that artistic and perceptive interest with which he had been received at Paris. The high prices of admission charged for his concerts drew down the reprobation of the English journals, as if the artist was not privileged to put what price he pleased upon his talent, or that they were perforce obliged to go and hear him. The concerts at London, at which Paganini performed, and his professional tour through England, Scotland, and Ireland, produced an immense amount of money; this was a large fortune, to which he added considerably afterwards, during his visits to France and Belgium. He has been reproached with having sold himself to an English speculator for a certain time and a definite sum: a system which many artists have since adopted, though it is repugnant both to art and the dignity of the artist. Yet the great care necessary for the organisation of concerts, the difficulties encountered by an artist in England, certainly offer some apology for its adoption. The scandalous manner in which the managements plunder the artists—the toll claimed by the band, charitable institutions, printers, advertisements, lighting, servants, &c., &c., &c., offer so many interruptions to the calm serenity necessary for the display of talent, that the artist can scarcely be blamed for ridding himself of these annoyances by concluding a compact by which he is assured a specific sum.[N]
After an absence of six years, Paganini again set foot on his native soil. The wealth he had amassed in his European tour, placed him in a position of great independence. He sought to place this to advantage, yet was undecided what part of the Peninsula he would select as his place of abode. His former predilection was for Tuscany; but, among the various properties he purchased, was a charming country house in the environs of Parma, called la Villa Gajona—here he decided on residing. Various projects occupied him at this period, the most important of which was the publication of his compositions—a publication which was ardently desired by all violinists, under the impression that they would arrive at the secret of his marvellous talent. During his stay in London, M. Troupenas, one of the most eminent publishers in Paris at that time, arrived there for the purpose of purchasing the copyright of his manuscripts; yet, although M. Troupenas was accustomed to pay large sums to celebrated authors, whose works he published, particularly Rossini and Auber, he could not come to terms with the great violinist. M. Troupenas has frequently told me that the sum asked by Paganini for his manuscripts was so considerable, that a continuous sale during ten years would not have reimbursed him. Afterwards, at Brussels, Paganini told me he contemplated publishing his works himself; but, not having yet abandoned giving concerts, he conceived the singular idea of arranging his music for the Pianoforte.
On returning to Italy, where he was almost worshipped by his countrymen, from the great triumphs he had obtained, and the honours conferred on him by foreign potentates, he was received with the most marked degree of respect. On the 14th of November, 1834, he gave a concert at Placentia, for the benefit of the poor. The following 12th of December, he played at the Court of Maria Louisa, Duchess of Parma, from whom he received the imperial Order of St. George. During the year 1835, Paganini alternately resided at Genoa, Milan, and at his retreat near Parma. The cholera, which was then raging at Genoa, gave rise to the rumour that he had fallen a victim to the infection. This event was announced in the public papers, in which there appeared necrological notices; but, although his health was lamentably bad, he escaped the cholera.
In 1836, some speculators induced him to lend the aid of his name and talent to establish a casino, of which music was the pretext, but gambling the real object. This establishment, which was situated in the most fashionable locality of Paris, was opened with considerable splendour at the end of November, 1837, under the name of Casino Paganini; but the Government refused to authorize its opening as a gambling house, and the speculators were reduced to give concerts, the proceeds of which were far exceeded by the expenses of the undertaking. Under the necessity of meeting the engagement entered into for this purpose, the great artist withdrew from his country house near Parma, and proceeded by way of Piedmont. At Turin, together with the guitarist Legnani, he gave a concert on the 9th of June, for the benefit of the poor; and he then proceeded by way of Lyons, notwithstanding his ill state of health, and arrived at Paris oppressed with fatigue and suffering. The decline of his health was manifest; and his wasted strength precluded the possibility of his playing at the Casino. As the price of his painful journey to Paris, and the loss of his health, a law suit was commenced against him, which he lost; the judges, without having heard his defence, condemned him to pay 50,000f. to the creditors of the speculation, and he was to be deprived of his liberty until that amount was paid.
When this decision was pronounced, Paganini was dying—his malady, which was phthisis of the larynx, had increased since the commencement of 1839. The medical men advised him to proceed to Marseilles, the climate of which they considered favourable to his health. He followed their advice, and travelled by slow stages to the south. His great energy struggled against the illness. In retirement at the house of a friend, near the gates of the city, he still occupied himself with his art, and alternated between the Violin and the Guitar. One day he seemed to revive, and performed a quartett of Beethoven, his particular favourite, with the greatest energy. Despite his extreme weakness, he went, some few days after, to hear a requiem for male voices, by Cherubini, finally, on the 21st of June, he attended in one of the churches at Marseilles, to take part in a solemn mass by Beethoven. However, the love of change, inherent in all valetudinarians, induced him to return to Genoa by sea, fully impressed that the voyage would recruit his health. Vain hope! In the commencement of October of the same year, he wrote from his native city to M. Galafre, a painter, and an esteemed friend of his: “Being in much worse health than I was at Marseilles, I have resolved on passing the winter at Nice.” Thus he believed he was flying from death, and death was pursuing him. Nice was destined to be his last abode. The progress of his malady was rapid—his voice became almost extinct, and dreadful fits of coughing, which daily became more frequent, finally reduced him to a shadow. The sinking of the features, a certain token of approaching death, was visible in his face. An Italian writer has furnished us with a most touching description of his last moments in the following terms:—
“On the last night of his existence, he appeared unusually tranquil. He had slept a little; when he awoke, he requested that the curtains of his bed should be drawn aside to contemplate the moon, which, at its full, was advancing calmly in the immensity of the pure heavens. While steadily gazing at this luminous orb, he again became drowsy, but the murmuring of the neighbouring trees awakened in his breast that sweet agitation which is the reality of the beautiful. At this solemn hour, he seemed desirous to return to Nature all the soft sensations which he was then possessed of; stretching forth his hands towards his enchanted Violin—to the faithful companion of his travels—to the magician which had robbed care of its stings—he sent to heaven, with its last sounds, the last sigh of a life which had been all melody.”
The great artist expired the 27th of May, 1840, at the age of 56, leaving to his only son, Achille—the fruit of his liaison with the cantatrice, Antonia Bianchi, of Como—an immense fortune, and the title of Baron, which had been conceded to him in Germany. All had not ended with the man whose life was as extraordinary as his talent. Whether from the effect of certain popular rumours, of which mention will be made hereafter, or whether, from the fact of Paganini having died without receiving the last rites of the Church, he had left doubts as to his religion, his remains were refused interment in consecrated ground by the Bishop of Nice, Monsignor Antonio Galvano. Vainly did his son, his friends, and most of the artists of the city, solicit permission to celebrate a solemn service for his eternal rest, on the plea that, as in all cases of phthisis, the sufferer never believed his end was approaching, but had died suddenly; the Bishop remained inexorable, but proffered an authentic act of decease, with permission to remove the body wheresoever they pleased. This was not accepted, and the matter was brought before the tribunals. At Nice, a verdict was returned in favour of the Bishop. Recourse was then had to Rome, which remitted the Bishop’s decision, and charged the Bishop of Turin, conjointly with two Canons of the Cathedral of Genoa, to institute an inquiry with reference to the catholicity of Paganini. All this time the body was lying in one of the rooms of the hospital at Nice; it was afterwards removed by sea from the lazaretto of Villa Franca, near the city, to a country spot named Polcevera, near Genoa, which belonged to the family of the illustrious artist. It was rumoured that piteous and extraordinary tones were heard there at night. To end these popular reports, the young Baron Paganini resolved on defraying the expense of a solemn service to the memory of his father, as Chevalier de St. George, which was celebrated at Parma in the church of the Steccata, belonging to that chivalrous order. After this ceremony, the friends of the deceased obtained permission from the Bishop of Parma to bring the body into the Duchy, to remove it to the Villa Gajona, and to inter it in the village church. This funeral homage was rendered to the remains of the celebrated man, in the month of May, 1845, but without pomp, in conformity with the orders which had emanated from the Government.
By his will, made on the 27th of April, 1837, and opened on the 1st of June, 1840, Paganini left to his son, legitimized by deeds of law, a fortune estimated at two millions (£80,000 sterling), out of which two legacies were to be paid, of fifty and sixty thousand francs, to his two sisters, leaving to the mother of his son Achille an annuity of 1,200 francs. Independently of his wealth, Paganini possessed a collection of valuable instruments, among which was an incomparable Stradiuari, estimated at upwards of 8,000 Austrian florins, a charming Guarnieri of the smaller pattern, an excellent Amati, a Stradiuari Bass, equally prized with his Violin of this master, and his large Guarnieri, the only instrument which accompanied him in his travels, and which he bequeathed to the town of Genoa, not being desirous that any artist should possess it after him.