Part 3

Baillot, of whom I have still to speak, was not only a great violinist by the readiest and most varied mechanism imaginable, but he was a poet by his exquisite feeling for the beauties of music and his ready conception of the style necessary for imparting the true character of each composition. Pollani, pupil of Nardini, was one of Baillot’s masters; but the immense natural talent of Baillot formed the rich basis of his own fancy; a great solo performer, he never went to the extent of his vast capabilities, if the work he was to interpret failed to awaken his appreciation. At the Opera, where he was engaged to play the solos for dancing, he was only the shadow of himself; but when at annual meetings for the performance of quartetts and quintetts, with the genius of Boccherini, of Haydn, of Mozart, and of Beethoven, his enthusiasm was aroused; he became sublime and unequalled for his varied accentuation, the various shadings of expression, and the poetry of his ideas. His bow was magical; and every note under his fingers became an eloquent inspiration. Baillot was not only a great violinist--he was a great professor. The number of excellent violinists who were his pupils is considerable. His school produced Habeneck and Mazas--both of whom were eminent artists. Having become professor at the Conservatory of Paris, and the successor of his master, Habeneck produced some clever pupils, at the head of whom stands M. Alard, the present chief of the French school.

Lafont, too, one of the bright glories of the French school of violinists, was, at first, the pupil of Kreutzer. Dissatisfied with the style of his master, which did not sympathise with his own, he joined the school of Rode, which seemed formed for the development of his own qualities, combining grace, purity, elegance, and charm--qualities which, subsequently, with study, rendered him a perfect master of his art. The perfection of his intonation was so certain--the style of his bowing so seductive--his taste so exquisite in his ornament--that, if the sentiment of grandeur left anything to be desired, it was scarcely perceptible, it was lost in the rapture created by his grace and delicacy.

A new school has been formed. I allude to the Belgian school for the Violin, which numbers a nation of heroes, the chiefs of whom are De Bériot and Vieuxtemps; but, convinced that the history of one’s friends is as difficult to write as that of one’s enemies, I shall leave to future historians the agreeable task of handing down to posterity the names of these glories of their country.

Germany has produced several schools of violinists, whose principal qualities have been perfect intonation and neat execution; but which in the eighteenth century, especially, wanted a more powerful tone and broadness of execution. The prodigies invented by Walther in the seventeenth century, seem not to have left any traces. Italy and Bohemia were the cradles of two schools of German violinists, from whence the others proceeded.

Corelli, who disseminated everywhere the effects of his powerful influence, was first violinist in the chapel of the Margrave of Anspach, in 1699, when Pisendel, then choir-boy, became his pupil, and made such progress under his guidance, that he became first violinist of the chapel in 1702. This Pisendel, having become an eminent violinist, was attached to the Court of Saxony as master of the concerts, and opened, at Dresden, a school for the Violin. All the traditions of his master were transmitted to his pupils, but with the mannerism that was in vogue at the Court of Dresden. It was here the talent of Johann Gottlieb Graun, brother of the celebrated composer of that name, and master of the concerts of Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, was formed. Graun possessed sterling talent, of which he afforded many proofs, both by the pupils he made and by twenty-nine concertos for the Violin in manuscript, some of which I have seen, and which evince a remarkable degree of cleverness. In his youth, when he left the school of Pisendel, he went to Italy, and there received lessons from Tartini, whose style he adopted.

The school for the Violin founded in Bohemia, commenced by Konieseck of Prague. Konieseck is only known as having been the master of Francis Benda, a great artist, born at Althenatka, in Bohemia, the 23rd of November, 1709. His first master was a blind Jew, of the name of Lœbel, a very eminent violinist. He subsequently became the pupil of Konieseck, and acquired his brilliant style, though deficient in tone, which he transmitted to all his pupils. The school of Benda, from which proceeded his two sons, Ramnitz, Rust, Matthes, and several others, was celebrated for a long period in Germany. From this school came most of the Saxon and Prussian violinists. Benda, after the death of Graun, succeeded him as master of the concerts at the Court of Prussia in 1772, and died at Potsdam in 1786.

John Charles Stamitz, a remarkable violinist, and distinguished composer, emanated from Bohemia; he was born in 1719, his Violin master was a monk of the Abbey of Reichenau, the Father Czernohorsky. Being in the service of the Palatinate Elector in 1745, Stamitz became the founder of the celebrated school of Mannheim, which produced the greater number of the German violinists of later days. The concertos of Stamitz, and a duet for one Violin, several times published, would alone suffice to prove the great capabilities of this artist: even did his pupils not bear evidence in favour of this judgment. Among his pupils were his two sons, Charles and Anthony, Canabich, Foerster, and several others. Christian Canabich succeeded his master; and his pupils were William Cramer, Danner, Ignace Fraenzel, all of whom were distinguished artists, but of different styles. Cramer and Danner possessed broadness in the style of bowing, but Fraenzel was a graceful and elegant performer, though his tone was somewhat thin. A pupil of Danner, John Frederick Eck, born at Mannheim in 1766, became a brilliant violinist of this school. This artist, director of the concerts of the Court of Munich, was the master of Spohr--at least, as far as talent can be formed, until individual organisation and meditation receive the stamp of personality. Louis Spohr has founded a Violin school in Germany, on a more extended and more vigorous scale than those of his predecessors. When Paganini heard him at Venice, he spoke of him in unqualified terms of approbation. This worthy artist has formed many pupils, who occupy most honourable positions in the large cities, and he has exposed the principles of his school in an extensive work, published by Haslinger, of Vienna, and subsequently translated into French and English.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Nicolo Paganini.

Genius--talent, whatever its extent--cannot always count upon popularity. Susceptibility of the highest conceptions of the most sublime creations, frequently fail in securing the attention of the multitude. How is this most coveted point to be attained? It would be difficult to arrive at any precise conclusion, from the fact that it applies to matters totally differing from each other; it is, however, perhaps possible to define the aggregation of qualities required to move the public in masses, by calling it “sympathetic wonderment.” Fortunate boldness is its characteristic mark; originality its absolute condition. The most renowned popularities of the nineteenth century have each differed in their specialty,--Napoleon Bonaparte, Rossini, and Paganini. Many other names, doubtless, recall talents of the finest order, and personalities of the highest value; yet, notwithstanding their having been duly appreciated by the intelligent and enlightened classes, they have not called forth those outbursts of enthusiasm which have been manifested towards others during an entire generation. The truly popular name appears surrounded by its prestige, even to the lowest degrees of the social scale; such was the case with the prodigious artist who is the object of this notice.

Nicolo Paganini, the most extraordinary--the most renowned violinist of the nineteenth century--was born on February the 18th, 1784. His father, Antonio Paganini, a commercial broker, or simply a broker’s clerk, according to some biographers, was passionately fond of music, and played upon the mandoline. His penetration soon discovered the aptitude of his son for this art. He resolved that study should develope it. His excessive severity would have probably led to results contrary to those he expected, had not the younger Paganini been endowed with the firm determination of becoming an artist. From the age of six years he was a musician, and played the Violin. The lessons he received from his father, as may be presumed, were not given in the most gentle manner. The ill-treatment to which he was subjected during this period of his youth, appears to have exercised a fatal influence upon his nervous and delicate constitution. From his first attempts he was imbued with the disposition to execute feats of strength and agility upon his instrument. His instinct urged him to attempt the most extraordinary things; his precocious skill exciting the astonishment of his young friends. His confidence in the future was not to be shaken, from the fact of his mother saying to him one day, “My son, you will be a great musician. An angel, radiant with beauty, appeared to me during the night, and, addressing me, spoke thus: ‘If thou wouldst proffer a wish, it shall be accomplished.’ I asked that you should become the greatest of all violinists, and the angel promised the fulfilment of my desire.”

His father’s lessons soon became useless, and Servetto, a musician of the theatre, at Genoa, became his teacher; but even he was not possessed of sufficient ability to be of benefit to this predestined artist. Paganini received his instructions for a short period only, and he was placed under Giacomo Costa, director of music, and principal violinist to the churches of Genoa, under whose care he progressed rapidly. He had now attained his eighth year, when he wrote his first sonata, which he unfortunately took no care of, and has been lost among many other of his productions. His countryman, Gnecco, a distinguished composer, encouraged the visits of the boy, and tendered counsel which doubtless aided him materially in his progress. Costa only gave him lessons for six months, during which period he obliged his pupil to play in the churches. But the master’s instructions were not at all satisfactory to the pupil, who had already conceived a method of fingering and bowing.

Having reached his ninth year, the young _virtuoso_ appeared in public, for the first time, in a concert at the large theatre of his native town, given by the excellent soprano Marchesi, with the vocalist Albertinatti. These two artists sang subsequently at a concert for Paganini’s benefit, and in both these instances this extraordinary child played variations of his own composition on the French air, “la Carmagnole,” amid the frenzied acclamations of an enthusiastic audience. About this period of his life the father was advised, by judicious friends, to place the boy under good masters of the Violin and composition; and he shortly after took him to Parma, where Alexandro Rolla then resided, so celebrated for his performance, as conductor of the orchestra, and as a composer. Paganini was now twelve years of age. The following anecdote, related by M. Schottky, and which Paganini published in a Vienna journal, furnishes interesting details of the master’s first interview with the young artist:--“On arriving at Rolla’s house, he said, we found him ill, and in bed. His wife conducted us into a room adjoining the one where the sick man lay, in order to concert with her husband, who, it appeared, was not at all disposed to receive us. Perceiving upon the table of the chamber into which we were ushered a Violin, and the last concerto of Rolla, I took up the Violin and played the piece at first sight. Surprised at what he heard, the composer inquired the name of the _virtuoso_ he had just heard. When he heard it was only a mere lad, he would not give credence to the fact unless by ocular demonstration. Thus satisfied, he told me, that he could teach me nothing, and recommended me to take lessons in composition from Paër.” The evident desire evinced by Paganini to refute the supposition of his having received lessons from Rolla, is a singularity difficult to account for. Gervasoni, who knew him at Parma at this period, affirms[C] that he was the pupil of Rolla for several months. However, it was not Paër, then in Germany, who taught Paganini harmony and counterpoint, but Ghiretti, who had directed the studies of Paër himself. During six months this precocious artist received three lessons weekly, and specially applied himself to the study of instrumentation. Even now Paganini was occupied in discovering new effects on his instrument. Frequent discussions took place between him and Rolla on the innovations which the young artist contemplated, and which he could, at this period, only execute imperfectly, whilst the severe taste of his master deprecated these bold attempts, except for the sake of occasional effects. It was, however, only after his return to Genoa, that Paganini wrote his first compositions for the Violin. This music was so difficult that he was obliged to study it himself with increasing perseverance, and to make constant efforts to solve problems unknown to all other violinists. He was seen to have tried the same passage in a thousand different ways during ten or twelve hours, and to be completely overwhelmed with fatigue at the end of the day. It is by this unexampled perseverance that he overcame difficulties which were considered insurmountable by contemporary artists, when he published a specimen in the shape of a collection of studies.

Quitting Parma, at the commencement of 1797, Paganini made his first professional tour with his father through all the principal towns in Lombardy, and commenced a reputation which increased daily from that period. On his return to Genoa, and after having, in solitude, made the efforts necessary for the development of his talent, he began to feel the weight of the chain by which he was held by his father, and determined to release himself from the ill-treatment to which he was still subjected under the paternal roof. His artistic soul revolted at this degrading slavery, and felt that some respect was due to him. A favourable opportunity alone was required to execute his design. This soon presented itself. The fête of St. Martin was celebrated annually at Lucca by a musical festival, to which persons flocked from every part of Italy. As this period approached, Paganini entreated his father to permit him to attend it, accompanied by his elder brother. His demand was at first met with a peremptory refusal; but the solicitations of the son, and the prayers of the mother, finally prevailed, and the heart of the young artist, at liberty for the first time, bounded with joy and he set out agitated by dreams of success and happiness. At Lucca he was received with enthusiasm. Encouraged by this propitious débût, he visited Pisa, and some other towns, in all of which his success was unequivocal. The year 1799 had just commenced, and Paganini had not attained his fifteenth year. This is not the age of prudence. His moral education had been grossly neglected, and the severity which assailed his more youthful years, was not calculated to awaken him to the dangers of a life of freedom. Freed from restraint, and relishing the delights of his new-born independence, he formed connections with other artists, whose sole abilities seemed to consist in encouraging a taste for gambling in young men of family and means, and turning the tables upon them to their own advantage. Paganini, in this manner, frequently lost the produce of several concerts in one night, and was consequently often in a state of great embarrassment. His talent soon procured fresh resources, and time passed gaily enough, alternately between good and bad fortune. He was frequently reduced, by distress, to part with his Violin. In this condition he found himself at Leghorn, and was indebted to the kindness of a French merchant, (M. Livron), a distinguished amateur, for the loan of a Violin, an excellent Guarnieri. When the concert had concluded, Paganini brought it back to its owner, when this gentleman exclaimed, “Never will I profane strings which your fingers have touched; that instrument is now yours.” This is the Violin Paganini afterwards used in all his concerts. A similar event occurred to him at Parma, but under different circumstances. Pasini, an eminent painter, and an excellent amateur performer on the Violin, had disbelieved the prodigious faculty imputed to Paganini, of playing the most difficult music at first sight, as well as if he had maturely studied it. He brought him a manuscript concerto, containing the most difficult passages, imagined almost by every performer as insurmountable, and placing in his hands an excellent instrument of Stradiuari, added, “This instrument shall be yours, if you can play, in a masterly manner, that concerto at first sight.” “If that is the case,” replied Paganini, “you may bid adieu to it,” and he forthwith, by his exquisite performance of the piece, threw Pasini into extatic admiration.

Adventures of every kind characterise this period of Paganini’s early days; the enthusiasm of art, love, and gambling, divided his time, despite the warnings of a delicate constitution, which proclaimed the necessity of great care. Heedless of everything, he continued his career of dissipation, until the prostration of all his faculties forced a respite. He would then lie up for several weeks, in a state of absolute repose, until, with refreshed energies, he recommenced his artistic career and wandering life. Unexpected resources occasionally relieved him from positive poverty. In this position, at seventeen years of age, being at Leghorn, in 1801, he became acquainted with a wealthy Swedish amateur, whose favourite instrument was the bassoon. Complaining that he could meet with no music for his instrument, sufficiently difficult for his talent, Paganini provided him with compositions almost impracticable, for which he was richly rewarded. It was to be feared that this dissolute life would ultimately deprive the world of his marvellous talent, when an unforeseen and important circumstance, related by himself, ended his fatal passion for gambling.

“I shall never forget,” he said, “that I one day, placed myself in a position which was to decide my future. The Prince of ---- had, for some time, coveted the possession of my Violin--the only one I possessed at that period, and which I still have. He, on one particular occasion, was extremely anxious that I should mention the sum for which I would dispose of it; but not wishing to part with my instrument, I declared I would not sell it for 250 gold napoleons. Some time after the Prince said to me that I was, doubtless, only speaking in jest in asking such a sum, but that he would be willing to give me 2,000 francs. I was, at this moment, in the greatest want of money to meet a debt of honour I had incurred at play, and was almost tempted to accept the proffered amount, when I received an invitation to a party that evening at a friend’s house. All my capital consisted of thirty francs, as I had disposed of all my jewels, watch, rings, and brooches, &c. I resolved on risking this last resource; and, if fortune proved fickle, to sell my Violin to the Prince and to proceed to St. Petersburg, without instrument or luggage, with the view of re-establishing my affairs; my thirty francs were reduced to three, and I fancied myself on the road to Russia, when suddenly my fortune took a sudden turn; and, with the small remains of my capital I won 160 francs. This amount saved my Violin, and completely set me up. From that day I abjured gambling--to which I had sacrificed part of my youth--convinced that a gamester is an object of contempt to all well-regulated minds.”

Although he was still in the prime of youth, Paganini knew of nothing but success and profit, when, during one of those hallucinations to which all great artists are subject, the Violin lost its attractions in his eyes. A lady of rank having fallen desperately in love with him, and the feeling being reciprocated, he withdrew with her to an estate she possessed in Tuscany.[D] This lady played the Guitar, and Paganini imbibed a taste for that instrument, and applied himself as sedulously to its practice as he had formerly done with the Violin. He soon discovered new resources, which he imparted to his friend; and during a period of three years, he devoted all the energies of his mind to its study, and to agricultural pursuits, for which the lady’s estate afforded him ample opportunities. It was at this period he wrote his two sonatas for Guitar and Violin, which form his second and third works.

Love cools with time in a castle as in a cottage. Paganini discovered this; all his former penchant for the Violin returned, and he decided on resuming his travels. On his return to Genoa, in 1804, he occupied himself solely with composition, and wrote here his fourth work which consists of four grand quartetts for Violin, Viol, Guitar, and Violoncello; and bravura variations for Violin, on an original theme, with Guitar accompaniment, which forms his fifth work. It appears too, that at this period he gave instruction on the Violin to Catarina Calcagno,[E] born at Genoa, in 1797, who, at the age of fifteen, astounded Italy by the boldness of her style. All traces of her seem lost after 1816. Towards the middle of 1805, Paganini left Genoa, to undertake a new tour in Italy. The first town he visited was Lucca, the scene of his first successes. Here he again created so great a sensation by a concerto he performed at a nocturnal festival in a convent chapel, that the monks were obliged to leave their stalls, in order to repress the applause which burst forth despite the sanctity of the place. He was then twenty-one years of age. The principality of Lucca and Piombino had been organised in the month of March, of the same year, in favour of the Princess Eliza, sister of Napoleon, and the wife of Prince Bacciochi. The Court had fixed its residence in the town of Lucca. The great reputation of the violinist induced the Princess to offer him the posts of director of her private music, and conductor of the opera orchestra. Notwithstanding his propensity for independence of

## action, and although the emoluments were scanty, the position pleased

him, and he accepted it. The Prince Bacciochi received instruction from him on the Violin. The Princess, who had appreciated the originality of his talent, induced him to extend his discoveries of novel effects upon the instrument. To convince him of the interest he had inspired her with, she granted him the grade of captain in the royal gendarmerie, so that he might be admitted with his brilliant costume to all the great Court receptions. Paganini added many novelties to those which characterised his talent. Thus, seeking to vary the effect of his instrument at the Court concerts, where it was his duty to play, he removed the second and third strings, and composed a dialogue for the first and fourth strings. He has related this circumstance himself nearly in these terms:--