When William IV. Was King

by John Ashton

The King gave him a diamond ring, and money rolled in to him. His prices were high, and he always insisted upon being paid before he would perform. Here is an example (Times, December 8, 1831)—

"Brighton. December 6th.—Some sensation has been excited at Brighton by a circumstance relative to Paganini. Mr. Gutteridge, it appears, had engaged the Signor to play at the theatre for one night, at the moderate sum of 200 guineas. As the theatre, however, when crammed almost to suffocation, would only produce about £200, and, after paying Paganini and other expenses, he would have had to disburse nearly £300, Mr. Gutteridge was, of course, compelled to raise the prices. It was, therefore, announced that the prices of the boxes and pit would be doubled, and the admission to the gallery increased to 4s. The announcement of the intended increase of prices caused considerable dissatisfaction in Brighton, and placards were, yesterday, posted on the Steine, calling upon the public to resist the extortion, and threatening, if the prices were raised, to make of Brighton another Bristol. Mr. Gutteridge, having obtained one of the placards, went to the magistrates to ask for protection against the threatened outrage, and a promise was, of course, made to him of the assistance of the police."

In November, 1833, a Mr. Freeman sued Paganini for thirty guineas, alleged to be due to him for his services as interpreter and agent, and in the course of the trial it came out that Paganini had amassed £30,000 in England alone.

His rival, the celebrated Norwegian violinist, Ole Bull, came over here in 1836, and gave his first concert at the King's Theatre on May 21st of that year, and the criticism upon his performance was that "the applause he received was unbounded, as little forced, and as sincere as any we have ever heard." He stayed in England a year.

It is said that "there is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous," and, musically, that seems to be from Paganini and Ole Bull to Eulenstein, the performer on the Jew's harp, who was here in the autumn of 1833. In a biographical account of him we find that he was of humble origin, and born in Wurtemberg.

"He went to Stutgard, and received a command to appear before the queen. Pursuing his travels, he visited Paris, with five pounds in his pocket, and five hundred in his imagination. Here he found no means of making himself known, and sunk gradually into penury; when Mr. Stockhausen took him by the hand, and procured him introductions to the highest circles. From France he came to England, but, upon his arrival, unfortunately, he received a 'patronizing invitation' to play at a rout at the Marchioness of Salisbury's. A French horn would have been more appropriate there than the delicate Jew's harp. The gay party saw, indeed, a man in a corner doing something, and making wry faces over it, they heard no sound, and wondered what it was. Eulenstein, shocked and mortified, determined to leave England, and was about to set off for the Continent, when the Duke of Gordon kindly patronized him, procured a command from the late King to play in his presence, and, in short, may be considered to be the architect of his promising fortune."

The accordion was a new and fashionable instrument, and there was in 1836 a musical instrument called an "Æolophone," which I fancy must have been a kind of Æolian harp; and in 1837 there was an awful thing called the "Eidophusion," whilst, all during the reign, a composite instrument, called the "Apollonicon," was performed on daily at 101, St. Martin's Lane.

Whilst on the subject of music in England, I must not omit to mention the commencement of a peculiar school, which since has attained large dimensions—I mean the "nigger" songs, of which the first was sung in 1836 by an actor named T. D. Rice, who introduced it at the Adelphi, in a play called "A Flight to America." Although very silly stuff, it became the rage, and I reproduce it because it was the first of its kind. It will be noted that the nigger costume was not of that exaggerated and complex character into which it has now developed.