Nicolo Paganini: His Life and Work. Stephen S. Stratton

thrilled with dreams of success and happiness. At Lucca he was most enthusiastically received, and, elated by his good fortune, Paganini extended his tour, playing in Pisa and other towns. Enabled now to earn his own living, Paganini determined never to return to the home where he had suffered so much. His father must have obtained information as to the youth's whereabouts, for it has been stated that he managed to obtain a large part of the young artist's earnings. The money was freely yielded to a certain extent, and the residue was obtained by threats. But no threat or entreaty could induce Nicolo to return to his paternal home. The bird had escaped, and liberty was sweet. But young Paganini was scarcely fitted for an independent, uncontrolled career. He had no moral ballast, and much would depend upon what kind of company he kept.

      One has to bear in mind that at the period now under notice—1798—Europe was in a very unsettled state. The very pillars of society were shaken, and there were many dangers in the path of the young and inexperienced. But that is a very trite observation, for it applies to all times and places. However, Paganini seems to have become acquainted with what Fétis terms "artists of another kind," who encouraged "play" of a more exciting, if less exalted order, than the young musician had hitherto devoted himself to. With his ardent southern temperament Paganini threw himself with the greatest zest into the vortex of gambling, and frequently lost at a sitting the earnings of several concerts and was reduced to the greatest embarrassment. Soon his talent provided fresh resources, and his days ran on in alternations of good and evil fortune. Tall, slight, delicate and handsome,[3] Paganini, despite his frail constitution, was an object of attraction to the fair sex. Incidents in his early manhood probably formed the foundation for some of the stories told of him later. As Fétis puts it; the enthusiasm for art, love and "play," reigned by turns in his soul. He ought to have been careful of himself, but he went to excess in everything. Then came a period of enforced repose, of absolute exhaustion, lasting sometimes for weeks. This would be followed by a display of extraordinary energy, when his marvellous talent took its highest flights, and he plunged once more into the wildest bohemianism. Such a course of life was enough to wreck the artist, and no friend seemed to be at hand to save him from himself. Frequently he had to part with his violin in order to raise money to pay his debts of honour, and it was upon one such occasion that he met with the greatest good fortune he had yet experienced, and acquired a violin which became the instrument of his conversion from the fatal passion for gambling.

      

Plate III.—See Appendix. Paganini's Violin in the Municipal Museum at Genoa.

      Arriving at Leghorn, where he was to give a concert, Paganini yielded to his weakness for the other kind of play and lost his money and his violin. He was in a dilemma indeed, but was fortunate in meeting with an enthusiastic musical amateur, M. Livron, a French merchant, the owner of a superb Guarnerius violin. This instrument M. Livron lent to the young artist, and attended the concert. When Paganini went to return the violin to its owner, M. Livron at once exclaimed, "I shall take care never to profane the strings your fingers have touched. It is to you now that my violin belongs." A noble benefactor, that M. Livron. The Guarnerius became Paganini's inseparable companion; he played upon it throughout all his tours, and its subsequent history will be duly related.

      Paganini acquired another instrument on the same easy terms, but attended by different circumstances. Signor Pasini, of Parma, a painter of some distinction, and an amateur violinist, had heard of Paganini's wonderful powers as a reader of music at sight, but refused to credit the statements. Pasini one day placed before Paganini a manuscript concerto, in which difficulties of all kinds were brought together, and putting into the artist's hands a splendid Stradivari violin, said: "This instrument is yours if you can play that at sight, like a master, without studying its difficulties in advance." "If that is so," replied Paganini, "You may bid farewell to it at once." His terrific[4] execution made the music seem as if it played itself as his eye fell upon it. Pasini was petrified with astonishment.

      The abandonment of the vice of gambling came about in this way, his own words being quoted. "I shall never forget," said he, "one day placing myself in a position which was to decide my whole career. The Prince De * * * * * had long desired to possess my excellent violin (the Guarnerius), the only one I then had, and which I still possess. One day he desired me to fix a price; but, unwilling to part from my instrument, I declared I would not sell it for less than 250 gold Napoleons. A short time after, the Prince remarked that I was probably indulging in banter in asking so high a price, and added that he was disposed to give 2,000 francs for it. Precisely that very day I found myself in great want of money, in consequence of a heavy loss at play, and I almost resolved to yield my violin for the sum he had offered, when a friend came in to invite me to a party that evening. My capital then consisted of thirty francs, and I had already deprived myself of my jewels, watch, rings, pins, etc. I instantly formed the resolve to risk this last resource, and if fortune went against me, to sell the violin and to set out for St. Petersburg, without instrument and without funds, with the object of retrieving my position. Soon my thirty francs were reduced to three, and I saw myself on the road to the great city, when fortune, changing in the twinkling of an eye, gained me one hundred francs with the little that yet remained. That moment saved my violin and set me up again. From that day I withdrew from play, to which I had sacrificed a portion of my youth: and convinced that a gambler is universally despised, I renounced for ever that fatal passion."

      It would be interesting to know when these things occurred, but dates are wanting; it is sufficient to find the artist triumphant in one great crisis in his life. Gambling, to which, however, he was not a party, was destined to trouble the last years of his life, as will be seen further on.

      Paganini's career, gambling apart, was by no means of a conventional character. His irregular habits, fits of extraordinary energy followed by langour and depression, led to frequent disappearances from public view. One such disappearance lasted for about four years, and only the romantic aspect of it has been described; the prime cause may have been overlooked. Here is one view of the matter. Enter Napoleon; exit Paganini. In 1800 Napoleon crossed the Alps; in 1804, he proclaimed himself Emperor. He parcelled out Europe, providing for his brothers and sisters, creating sovereigns at his own sweet will. Italy, invaded by a foreign foe, shaken with wars, "alarums and excursions," was not a happy hunting ground for a travelling virtuoso. Paganini vanished from view. In absolute retirement he lived for over three years at the chateau of a Tuscan lady of rank, who was a performer upon the guitar. Paganini threw himself with ardour into the study of that instrument, and became as great a virtuoso upon it as upon the violin. He composed a number of pieces for guitar and violin. According to Fétis, Paganini also devoted himself to the study of agriculture.

      But eventually he tired of a life of indolence and dalliance, and in 1804—the country settled now under French government—Paganini returned to Genoa, but whether to the paternal roof is not clear. He was doubtless invigorated by his long rest, and now resumed his arduous course of study. It has been remarked that it was only after Paganini had attained an almost perfect mastery over his instrument that he began to investigate the methods of other virtuosi[5]; even so, he had formed his own style of composition before studying the works of others. Now, he busied himself with the studies of Locatelli, whose extravagances almost equalled his own. It is said that he even gave lessons while in Genoa, and mention is made of one pupil, Catarina Calcagno, who had a brilliant, but brief career.

      In 1805, Paganini resumed his artistic tours, and arriving at Lucca, played a concerto at an evening festival in a convent church. So great was the enthusiasm of the audience (or congregation), that the monks had to leave their stalls to put a stop to the applause. At that time, Maria Anna (Elise), sister of Napoleon, was Princess of Lucca, and the Tuscan court was held in that Capital. The fame of Paganini could not fail to have reached the ears of the Princess, and it was but natural that the first virtuoso of Italy should receive an official appointment. So it happened that in the year 1805 he was offered, and accepted, the post of leader of the Court orchestra, and solo violinist. He also gave violin lessons to Prince Bacciochi, the husband of Maria Anna. It was during this period that Paganini began his experiments of employing less than the four strings of his violin. He gave an account of the origin of the practice to a friend at Prague many years later.[6] "It fell to my lot," he said, "to direct the opera whenever the reigning