Within the period of five years, Paganini returned to Milan five times, making a long stay on each occasion, and giving a great number of concerts. He played at Verona, Padua—where the "prison" stories seem to have originated—returned to Milan early in 1816, when he met the French violinist, Charles Lafont, with whom he played and of whom more will be said. Then to Venice, Trieste, and back to Venice in time to hear Spohr (October 18th), on whom he called both before and after the concert. Spohr greatly desired to hear Paganini play, but the latter excused himself.
Paganini must ere this have received invitations to visit other countries, for Spohr in his diary remarks, when referring to Paganini's first visit, that he had apparently abandoned his project of going to Vienna. In 1817, Paganini visited Piacenza, where he met the Polish violinist, Karl Joseph von Lipinski, who had gone to Italy expressly to hear Paganini. The Italian treated his Polish brother artist generously, and played with him at two concerts. Paganini was also again at Milan that year and paid a visit to his mother at Genoa. According to Anders, his father died in 1817. At the close of the same year Paganini was in Rome, where Rossini's opera "La Cenerentola" was produced at the opening of the Carnival season, December 26th. It is related that Meyerbeer was also in Rome at this time, and that Rossini's "Carnovale" was sung in the streets by the composer, Meyerbeer, and Paganini, who disguised themselves for the frolic. Paganini in the Palace of Prince von Kaunitz, the Austrian Ambassador, was introduced to Prince Metternich, who, charmed with his talent, pressed him to visit Vienna. But the violinist's health was in a precarious state. He suffered from an intestinal disorder, aggravated by his addiction to some quack remedy. He gave concerts in Rome, of which Schilling, who gives the date, however, as 1827, gives a very curious account. The first concert, though held in a Palace—such buildings being met with at every step—was in a room like a hay-loft. The orchestra consisted of some half-dozen shabbily dressed players, the singers were mechanics, members of the chorus of the Teatro Argentina, and the audience scarcely numbered fifty. Rome, professedly the first musical city of Italy, and of Europe, was ignorant of Paganini, the greatest violin virtuoso of Italy and the world. But his extraordinary genius kindled coldness into enthusiasm. At his second concert the attendance increased tenfold; at the third the success was even greater.
In 1818, and the following year, he gave concerts at Verona, Turin, Florence, and other towns. At Verona, the conductor of the theatre orchestra, one Valdabrini, persuaded himself that Paganini was little else than a charlatan, one who might play the pieces of his own repertory very well, but who could not execute a work such as a concerto of his, Valdabrini's, composition. Paganini was informed of this estimate of his abilities, and hastened to assure Valdabrini that he would be happy to reproduce the inspirations of the chef d'orchestre of Verona; and as this trial would be a powerful attraction, he would reserve it for his last concert. The day of rehearsal arrived, and Paganini was in his place. Instead of the music of the concerto, however, the artist improvised all kinds of fanciful passages, insomuch that the astonished orchestral players, lost in admiration, forgot to go on with their own work. The disappointed Valdabrini exclaimed: "My friend, this is not my concerto you are playing, I can recognise nothing of what I have written." "Don't distress yourself," replied Paganini, "at the concert you will recognise your work well enough, only now I claim a little indulgence."
The concert night arrived, and Paganini commenced with pieces of his own choice, reserving the concerto for the end. All were attention for the great event. Paganini came on at last, holding in his hand a Malacca walking cane. Everyone asked himself: What will he do with that? Suddenly he seized his violin, and, employing the cane as a bow, played the concerto (thought by the composer to be practicable only after long study) from beginning to end, not only rendering the most difficult passages, but introducing charming variations, never failing for an instant to display the purity, grace and verve that characterised his art.[8] This pleasantry was not to the taste of Valdabrini, we may be sure; but it was a rebuke to his presumption. Such amenities are scarcely possible now-a-days.
Paganini visited Naples in 1819 for the first time. When he arrived he found the local musicians badly disposed towards him, and he had something like a repetition of his experience at Verona, only he used the cane no more! These musicians affected to doubt the reality of the marvels fame attributed to Paganini, and proposed to amuse themselves at his expense. They engaged a young composer, Danna (Dana?)[9] fresh from the Conservatorio, to write a string quartet, filled with difficulties of every kind—for the first violin—persuading themselves that the great violinist could not overcome them. When all was ready—no doubt the other parts had been well practised—Paganini was invited to a musical réunion, where he found the violinists Onorio de Vito, Giuseppe Mario Festa, the violoncellist Ciandelli, and the composer Danna. Hardly had he arrived, when they placed the music before him, and invited him to play it at sight. Perceiving that they had set a trap for him, Paganini cast a hurried glance at the music, and played it off as though it had long been familiar to him. Confounded by what they heard, his assistants were prodigal in their admiration, and declared him incomparable.
Paganini's health now gave way to an alarming degree, and his landlord, fearing the malady was consumption—infectious, according to current opinion—proceeded to turn the violinist and his belongings into the street. Medical science has confirmed the views of the Neapolitans in respect to the contagious character of consumption, and the open-air treatment is now considered the proper method to adopt; but the landlord's rough and ready application of the remedy was highly objectionable, and so thought Ciandelli, who chanced to be passing at the time. He gave the landlord a severe thrashing, and conveyed Paganini to more comfortable lodgings, where he was carefully tended. Paganini repaid this act of kindness, as will be seen. These little scenes throw curious side-lights on life in Naples at that period.
In 1820, Paganini returned to Milan, where he founded an Amateur Society, Gli Orfei, and conducted its concerts for a time; but the roving habits he had acquired rendered a settled life irksome, and he was soon again on the move. The winter found him once more in Rome, where he must have stayed on and off for another year; for he was there in December, 1821, when Rossini was about to produce his opera, "Matilda di Sabran," at the opening of the Carnival season. On the day of the last rehearsal the conductor fell ill, and Rossini was in despair to replace him. Paganini, hearing of his friend's dilemma, offered to conduct the rehearsal and the first performance—his operatic experience at Lucca must not be forgotten—an offer Rossini gratefully accepted. Without a moment's preparation, Paganini set to work to communicate to an unskilled orchestra—it was at the Teatro d'Apollone—the composer's intentions and the manner in which they should be interpreted. Having no time for verbal explanation, he did everything by example, playing the first violin part an octave higher than it was written, and making himself heard above the strongest fortissimo. At a glance he penetrated the meaning of every movement, and he so worked upon the executants that they obeyed him as if by enchantment. This single rehearsal sufficed to bring about an irreproachable performance, the orchestra undergoing a veritable metamorphosis, to the astonishment of everyone, Rossini included. So far Laphaléque. Sutherland Edwards[10] says Paganini conducted the first three performances, adding, "Never, it is said, did the band of the 'Apollo' play with so much spirit before."
For the next two years Paganini was constantly travelling, and in the year 1823 we have the first glimpse of him through the medium of an English musical journal.[11] This first reference is quite incidental. Giuseppe Rastrelli was playing in Naples in 1822 (or 1823), and was well received, "although his predecessor, the celebrated Paganini," was still fresh in the public remembrance. This assumes that Paganini was well known to English readers. He had indeed been mentioned in books published before this date. On his way to Pavia in 1823, Paganini was attacked with illness, and his life was despaired of. At that time he had again intended going to Austria, but a long rest was needed to restore his health. This repose he enjoyed at Genoa, and recovered sufficiently to