On the 12th of December, 1800, a grand performance of “The Creation” took place at Paris.  Napoleon on his way to it narrowly escaped being killed by an infernal machine.  Cherubini was one of the deputation, representing the various corporations and societies of Paris, who waited on the First Consul to congratulate him upon his escape.  Cherubini kept in the background, when the sarcasm, “I do not see Monsieur Cherubini,” pronounced in the French way, as if to indicate that Cherubini was not worthy of being ranked with the Italian composers, brought him promptly forward.  “Well,” said Napoleon, “the French are in Italy.”  “Where would they not go,” answered Cherubini, “led by such a hero as you?” This pleased the First Consul, who, however, soon got to the old musical quarrel.  “I tell you I like Paisiello’s music immensely; it is soft and tranquil.  You have much talent, but there is too much accompaniment.”  Said Cherubini, “Citizen Consul, I conform myself to French taste.”

“Your music,” continued the other, “makes too much noise.  Speak to me in that of Paisiello; that is what lulls me gently.”  “I understand,” replied the composer; “you like music which doesn’t stop you from thinking of state affairs.”  This witty rejoinder made the arrogant soldier frown, and the talk suddenly ceased.

As a result of this alienation Cherubini found himself persistently ignored and ill-treated by the First Consul.  In spite of his having produced such great masterpieces, his income was very small, apart from his pay as Inspector of the Conservatory.  The ill will of the ruler of France was a steady check to his preferment.  When Napoleon established his consular chapel in 1802, he invited Paisiello from Naples to become director at a salary of 12,000 francs a year.  It gave great umbrage to the Conservatory that its famous teachers should have been slighted for an Italian foreigner, and musical circles in Paris were shaken by petty contentions.  Paisiello, however, found the public indifferent to his works, and soon wearied of a place where the admiration to which he had been accustomed no longer flattered his complacency.  He resigned, and his position was offered to Mehul, who is said to have declined it because he regarded Cherubini as far more worthy of it, and to have accepted it only on condition that his friend could share the duties and emoluments with him.  Cherubini, fretted and irritated by his condition, retired for a time from the pursuit of his art, and devoted himself to flowers.  The opera of “Anacreon,” a powerful but unequal work, which reflected the disturbance and agitation of his mind, was the sole fruit of his musical efforts for about four years.

While Cherubini was in the deepest depression—­for he had a large family depending on him and small means with which to support them—­a ray of sunshine came in 1805 in the shape of an invitation to compose for the managers of the opera at Vienna.  His advent at the Austrian capital produced a profound sensation, and he received a right royal welcome from the great musicians of Germany.  The aged Haydn, Hummel, and Beethoven became his warm friends with the generous freemasonry of genius, for his rank as a musician was recognized throughout Europe.