Frederick Chopin as a Man and Musician

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Embrace Johnnie, and tell him to write.

[5.]

Thanks for all the commissions you have executed so well. To-
day, that is on the 9th, I received the piano and the other
things. Do not send my little bust to Warsaw, it would
frighten them, leave it in the press. Kiss Johnnie for his
letter. I shall write him a few lines shortly.

To-morrow I shall very likely send back my old servant, who
loses his wits here. He is an honest man and knows how to
serve, but he is tiresome, and makes one lose one's patience.
I shall send him back, telling him to wait for me in Paris. If
he appears at the house, do not be frightened.

Latterly the weather has been only so-so.

The man in Chateauroux was waiting three days for the piano;
yesterday, after receiving your letter, I gave orders that he
should be recalled. To-day I do not yet know what kind of tone
the piano has, as it is not yet unpacked; this great event is
to take place to-morrow. As to the delay and misunderstanding
in sending it, do not make any inquiries; let the matter rest,
it is not worth a quarrel. You did the best you could. A
little ill-humour and a few days lost in expectation are not
worth a pinch of snuff. Forget, therefore, my commissions and
your transaction; next time, if God permits us to live,
matters will turn out better.

I write you these few words late at night. Once more I thank
you, most obliging of men, for the commissions, which are not
yet ended, for now comes the turn of the Troupenas business,
which will hang on your shoulders. I shall write to you on
this subject more fully some other time, and to-day I wish you
good night. But don't have dreams like Johnnie--that I died;
but rather dream that I am about to be born, or something of
the sort.

In fact, I am feeling now as calm and serene as a baby in
swaddling-clothes; and if somebody wished to put me in leading-
strings, I should be very glad--nota bene, with a cap thickly
lined with wadding on my head, for I feel that at every moment
I should stumble and turn upside down. Unfortunately, instead
of leading-strings there are probably awaiting me crutches, if
I approach old age with my present step. I once dreamt that I
was dying in a hospital, and this is so strongly rooted in my
mind that I cannot forget it--it is as if I had dreamt it
yesterday. If you survive me, you will learn whether we may
believe in dreams.

And now I often dream with my eyes open what may be said to
have neither rhyme nor reason in it.

That is why I write you such a foolish letter, is it?

Send me soon a letter from my people, and love your old

FREDERICK.

[6.] Nohant [1841].

Thanks for your very kind letter. Unseal all you judge
necessary.

Do not give the manuscripts to Troupenas till Schubert has
informed you of the day of publication. The answer will very
likely come soon through Leo.

What a pity that the Tarantella is gone to Berlin, for, as you
know from Schubert's letter, Liszt is mixed up in this
monetary affair, and I may have some unpleasantness. He is a
thin-skinned Hungarian, and may think that I do not trust him
because I directed that the manuscripts should not be given
otherwise than for cash. I do not know, but I have a
presentiment of a disagreeable mess. Do not say anything about
it to the ailing Leo; go and see him if you think it
necessary, give him my compliments and thanks (although
undeserved), and ask pardon for troubling him so much. After
all, it is kind of him to take upon him the forwarding of my
things. Give my compliments, also to Pleyel, and ask him to
excuse my not writing to him (do not say anything about his
sending me a very inferior piano).

I beg of you to put into the letter-box at the Exchange
yourself the letter to my parents, but I say do it yourself,
and before 4 o'clock. Excuse my troubling you, but you know of
what great importance my letter is to my people.

Escudier has very likely sent you that famous album. If you
wish you may ask Troupenas to get you a copy as if it were for
me; but if you don't wish, say nothing.

[FOOTNOTE: Leon Escudier, I suppose. The brothers Marie and
Leon Escudier established a music business in the latter part
of the fourth decade of this century; but when soon after both
married and divided their common property, Marie got their
journal "La France Musicale" and Leon the music-business. They
wrote and published together various books on music and
musicians.]

Still one more bother.

At your leisure transcribe once more this unlucky Tarantella,
which will be sent to Wessel when the day [of publication] is
known. If I tire you so much with this Tarentella, you may be
sure that it is for the last time. From here, I am sure you
will have no more manuscript from me. If there should not be
any news from Schubert within a week, please write to me. In
that case you would give the manuscript to Troupenas. But I
shall write him about it.

[7.] Nohant [1841], Friday evening.

My dear Julius,--I send you a letter for Bonnet; read, seal,
and deliver it. And if in passing through the streets in which
you know I can lodge, you find something suitable for me,
please write to me. Just now the condition about the staircase
exists no longer. [FOOTNOTE: Chopin felt so much stronger that
high stairs were no longer any objection to lodgings.] I also
send you a letter to Dessauer [FOOTNOTE: Joseph Dessauer, a
native of Prague, best known by his songs. He stayed in Paris
in 1833, and afterwards settled in Vienna. George Sand
numbered him among her friends.] in answer to his letter which
Madame Deller sent me from Austria. He must already be back to
Paris; be sure and ask Schlesinger, who will be best able to
inform you of this.

Do not give Dessauer many particulars about me; do not tell
him that you are looking for rooms, nor Anthony either, for he
will mention it to Mdlle. de Rozieres, and she is a babbler
and makes the least thing a subject for gossip. Some of her
gossipings have already reached me here in a strange way. You
know how great things sometimes grow out of nothing if they
pass through a mouth with a loose tongue. Much could be said
on this head.

As to the unlucky Tarantella, you may give it to Troupenas
(that is, to Masset); but, if you think otherwise, send it by
post to Wessel, only insist on his answering at once that he
has received it. The weather has been charming here for the
last few days, but my music--is ugly. Madame Viardot spent a
fortnight here; we occupied ourselves less with music than
with other things.

Please write to me whatever you like, but write.

May Johnnie be in good health!

But remember to write on Troupenas's copy: Hamburg, Schubert;
Wessel, London.

In a few days I shall send you a letter for Mechetti in
Vienna, to whom I promised to give some compositions. If you
see Dessauer or Schlesinger, ask if it is absolutely necessary
to pay postage for the letters sent to Vienna.--I embrace you,
adieu.

CHOPIN.

[8.]

Nohant, Sunday [1841].

What you have done you have done well. Strange world! Masset
is a fool, so also is Pelletan. Masset knew of Pacini's waltz
and that I promised it to the "Gazette" for the Album. I did
not wish to make any advances to him. If he does not wish them
at 600 francs, with London (the price of my USUAL manuscripts
was 300 francs with him)--three times five being fifteen--I
should have to give so much labour for 1,500 francs--that
cannot be. So much the more as I told him when I had the first
conversation with him that it might happen that I could not
let him have my things at this price. For instance, he cannot
expect that I should give him twelve Etudes or a new Methode
de Piano for 300 francs. The Allegro maestoso ["Allegro de
Concert," Op. 46] which I send you to-day I cannot give for
300 francs, but only for 600 francs, nor the "Fantasia" [Op.
49], for which I ask 500 francs. Nevertheless, the "Ballade"
[the third, Op. 47], the Nocturnes ["Deux Nocturnes," Op. 48],
and Polonaise [F sharp minor, Op. 44], I shall let him have at
300 francs, for he has already formerly printed such things.
In one word, for Paris I give these five compositions for
2,000 francs. If he does not care for them, so much the
better. I say it entre nous--for Schlesinger will most
willingly buy them. But I should not like him to take me for a
man who does not keep his word in an agreement. "Il n'y avait
qu'une convention facile d'honnete homme a honnete homme."
therefore, he should not complain of my terms, for they are
very easy. I want nothing but to come out of this affair
respectably. You know that I do not sell myself. But tell him
further that if I were desirous of taking advantage of him or
of cheating him, I could write fifteen things per year, but
worthless ones, which he would buy at 300 francs and I would
have a better income. Would it be an honest action?

My dear friend, tell him that I write seldom, and spend but
little. He must not think that I wish to raise the price. But
when you yourself see my manuscript flies, [FOOTNOTE: An
allusion to his small, fine writing.] you will agree with me
that I may ask 600 francs when I was paid 300 francs for the
Tarantella and 500 for the Bolero.

For God's sake take good care of the manuscripts, do not
squeeze, dirty, or tear them. I know you are not capable of
doing anything of the sort, but I love my WRITTEN TEDIOUSNESS
[NUDY, tediousness; NUTY, notes] so much that I always fear
that something might happen to them.

To-morrow you will receive the Nocturne, and at the end of the
week the Ballade and Fantasia; I cannot get my writing done
sooner. Each of these things you will transcribe; your copies
will remain in Paris. If copying wearies you, console yourself
with thinking that you are doing it for THE REMISSION OF YOUR
SINS. I should not like to give my little spider-feet to any
copyist who would daub coarsely. Once more I make this
request, for had I again to write these eighteen pages, I
should most certainly go wrong in my mind.

I send you a letter from Hartel.

Try to get another valet instead of the one you have. I shall
probably be in Paris during the first days of November. To-
morrow I will write to you again.

Monday
morning.

On reading your letter attentively, I see that Masset does not
ask for Paris. Leave this point untouched if you can. Mention
only 3,000 francs pour les deux pays, and 2,000 francs for
Paris itself if he particularly asks about it. Because la
condition des deux pays is still easier, and for me also more
convenient. If he should not want it, it must be because he
seeks an opportunity for breaking with me. In that case, wait
for his answer from London. Write to him openly and frankly,
but always politely, and act cautiously and coolly, but mind,
not to me, for you know how much loves you your...

[9.] Nohant [1841].

My dear friend,--You would be sure to receive my letters and
compositions. You have read the German letters, sealed them,
and done everything I asked you, have you not? As to Wessel,
he is a fool and a cheat. Write him whatever you like, but
tell him that I do not intend to give up my rights to the
Tarantella, as he did not send it back in time. If he
sustained losses by my compositions, it is most likely owing
to the foolish titles he gave them, in spite of my directions.
Were I to listen to the voice of my soul, I would not send him
anything more after these titles. Say as many sharp things to
him as you can.

[FOOTNOTE: Here are some specimens of the publisher's
ingenious inventiveness:--"Adieu a Varsovie" (Rondeau, Op. 1),
"Hommage a Mozart" (Variations, Op. 2), "La Gaite"
(Introduction et Polonaise, Op. 3), "La Posiana" (Rondeau a la
Mazur, Op. 5), "Murmures de la Seine" (Nocturnes, Op. 9), "Les
Zephirs" (Nocturnes, Op. 15), "Invitation a la Valse" (Valse,
Op. 18), "Souvenir d'Andalousie" (Bolero, Op. 19), "Le banquet
infernal" (Premier Scherzo, Op. 20), "Ballade ohne Worte"
[Ballad without words] (Ballade, Op. 23), "Les Plaintives"
(Nocturnes, Op. 27), "La Meditation" (Deuxieme Scherzo, Op.
31), "Il lamento e la consolazione" (Nocturnes, Op. 32), "Les
Soupirs" (Nocturnes, Op. 37), and "Les Favorites" (Polonaises,
Op. 40). The mazurkas generally received the title of
"Souvenir de la Pologne."]

Madame Sand thanks you for the kind words accompanying the
parcel. Give directions that my letters may be delivered to
Pelletan, Rue Pigal [i.e., Pigalle], 16, and impress it very
strongly on the portier. The son of Madame Sand will be in
Paris about the 16th. I shall send you, through him, the MS.
of the Concerto ["Allegro de Concert"] and the Nocturnes [Op.
46 and 48].

These letters of the romantic tone-poet to a friend and fellow-
artist will probably take the reader by surprise, nay, may even
disillusionise him. Their matter is indeed very suggestive of a
commercial man writing to one of his agents. Nor is this feature,
as the sequel will show, peculiar to the letters just quoted.
Trafficking takes up a very large part of Chopin's Parisian
correspondence; [FOOTNOTE: I indicate by this phrase
comprehensively the whole correspondence since his settling in
the French capital, whether written there or elsewhere.] of the
ideal within him that made him what he was as an artist we catch,
if any, only rare glimmerings and glimpses.

CHAPTER XXV.

TWO PUBLIC CONCERTS, ONE IN 1841 AND ANOTHER IN 1842. --CHOPIN'S
STYLE OF PLAYING: TECHNICAL QUALITIES; FAVOURABLE PHYSICAL
CONDITIONS; VOLUME OF TONE; USE OF THE PEDALS; SPIRITUAL
QUALITIES; TEMPO RUBATO; INSTRUMENTS.--HIS MUSICAL SYMPATHIES AND
ANTIPATHIES.--OPINIONS ON MUSIC AND MUSICIANS.

The concert which Chopin gave in 1841, after several years of
retirement, took place at Pleyel's rooms on Monday, the 26th of
April. It was like his subsequent concerts a semi-public rather
than a public one, for the audience consisted of a select circle
of pupils, friends, and partisans who, as Chopin told Lenz, took
the tickets in advance and divided them among themselves. As most
of the pupils belonged to the aristocracy, it followed as a
matter of course that the concert was emphatically what Liszt
calls it, "un concert de fashion." The three chief musical papers
of Paris: the "Gazette Musicale," the "France Musicale," and the
"Menestrel" were unanimous in their high, unqualified praise of
the concert-giver, "the king of the fete, who was overwhelmed
with bravos." The pianoforte performances of Chopin took up by
far the greater part of the programme, which was varied by two
arias from Adam's "La Rose de Peronne," sung by Mdme. Damoreau--
Cinti, who was as usual "ravissante de perfection," and by
Ernst's "Elegie," played by the composer himself "in a grand
style, with passionate feeling and a purity worthy of the great
masters." Escudier, the writer of the notice in the "France
Musicale," says of Ernst's playing: "If you wish to hear the
violin weep, go and hear Ernst; he produces such heart-rending,
such passionate sounds, that you fear every moment to see his
instrument break to pieces in his hands. It is difficult to carry
farther the expression of sadness, of suffering, and of despair."

To give the reader an idea of the character of the concert, I
shall quote largely from Liszt's notice, in which he not only
sets forth the merits of the artists, but also describes the
appearance of the room and the audience. First, however, I must
tell a pretty anecdote of which this notice reminds me. When
Liszt was moving about among the audience during the intervals of
the concert, paying his respects here and there, he came upon M.
Ernest Legouve. The latter told him of his intention to give an
account of the concert in the "Gazette Musicale." Liszt thereupon
said that he had a great wish to write one himself, and M.
Legouve, although reluctantly, gave way. When it came to the ears
of Chopin that Liszt was going to report on the concert, he
remarked: "Il me donnera un petit royaume dans son empire" (He
will give me a little kingdom in his empire).

[FOOTNOTE: Since I wrote the above, M. Legouve has published his
"Soixante ans de Souvenirs," and in this book gives his version
of the story, which, it is to be hoped, is less. incorrect than
some other statements of his relating to Chopin: "He [Chopin] had
asked me to write a report of the concert. Liszt claimed the
honour. I hastened to announce this good news to Chopin, who
quietly said to me: "I should have liked better if it had been
you." "What are you thinking of my dear friend! An article by
Liszt, that is a fortunate thing for the public and for you.
Trust in his admiration for your talent. I promise you qu'il vous
fera un beau royaume.'--'Oui, me dit-il en souriant, dans son
empire!'"]

These few words speak volumes. But here is what Liszt wrote about
the concert in the "Gazette musicale" of May 2, 1841:--

Last Monday, at eight o'clock in the evening, M. Pleyel's
rooms were brilliantly lighted up; numerous carriages brought
incessantly to the foot of a staircase covered with carpet and
perfumed with flowers the most elegant women, the most
fashionable young men, the most celebrated artists, the
richest financiers, the most illustrious noblemen, a whole
elite of society, a whole aristocracy of birth, fortune,
talent, and beauty.

A grand piano was open on a platform; people crowded round,
eager for the seats nearest it; they prepared to listen, they
composed them-selves, they said to themselves that they must
not lose a chord, a note, an intention, a thought of him who
was going to seat himself there. And people were right in
being thus eager, attentive, and religiously moved, because he
for whom they waited, whom they wished to hear, admire, and
applaud, was not only a clever virtuoso, a pianist expert in
the art of making notes [de faire des notes], not only an
artist of great renown, he was all this and more than all
this, he was Chopin...

...If less eclat has gathered round his name, if a less bright
aureole has encircled his head, it is not because he had not
in him perhaps the same depth of feeling as the illustrious
author of "Conrad Wallenrod" and the "Pilgrims," [FOOTNOTE:
Adam Mickiewicz.] but his means of expression were too
limited, his instrument too imperfect; he could not reveal his
whole self by means of a piano. Hence, if we are not mistaken,
a dull and continual suffering, a certain repugnance to reveal
himself to the outer world, a sadness which shrinks out of
sight under apparent gaiety, in short, a whole individuality
in the highest degree remarkable and attractive.

...It was only rarely, at very distant intervals, that Chopin
played in public; but what would have been for anyone else an
almost certain cause of oblivion and obscurity was precisely
what assured to him a fame above the caprices of fashion, and
kept him from rivalries, jealousies, and injustice. Chopin,
who has taken no part in the extreme movement which for
several years has thrust one on another and one against
another the executive artists from all quarters of the world,
has been constantly surrounded by faithful adepts,
enthusiastic pupils, and warm friends, all of whom, while
guarding him against disagreeable contests and painful
collisions, have not ceased to spread abroad his works, and
with them admiration for his name. Moreover, this exquisite,
altogether lofty, and eminently aristocratic celebrity has
remained unattacked. A complete silence of criticism already
reigns round it, as if posterity were come; and in the
brilliant audience which flocked together to hear the too long
silent poet there was neither reticence nor restriction,
unanimous praise was on the lips of all.

...He has known how to give to new thoughts a new form. That
element of wildness and abruptness which belongs to his
country has found its expression in bold dissonances, in
strange harmonies, while the delicacy and grace which belong
to his personality were revealed in a thousand contours, in a
thousand embellishments of an inimitable fancy.

In Monday's concert Chopin had chosen in preference those of
his works which swerve more from the classical forms. He
played neither concerto, nor sonata, nor fantasia, nor
variations, but preludes, studies, nocturnes, and mazurkas.
Addressing himself to a society rather than to a public, he
could show himself with impunity as he is, an elegiac poet,
profound, chaste, and dreamy. He did not need either to
astonish or to overwhelm, he sought for delicate sympathy
rather than for noisy enthusiasm. Let us say at once that he
had no reason to complain of want of sympathy. From the first
chords there was established a close communication between him
and his audience. Two studies and a ballade were encored, and
had it not been for the fear of adding to the already great
fatigue which betrayed itself on his pale face, people would
have asked for a repetition of the pieces of the programme one
by one...

An account of the concert in La France musicale of May 2, 1841,
contained a general characterisation of Chopin's artistic
position with regard to the public coinciding with that given by
Liszt, but the following excerpts from the other parts of the
article may not be unacceptable to the reader:--

We spoke of Schubert because there is no other nature which
has a more complete analogy with him. The one has done for the
piano what the other has done for the voice...Chopin was a
composer from conviction. He composes for himself, and what he
composes he performs for himself...Chopin is the pianist of
sentiment PAR EXCELLENCE. One may say that Chopin is the
creator of a school of pianoforte-playing and of a school of
composition. Indeed, nothing equals the lightness and
sweetness with which the artist preludes on the piano, nothing
again can be placed by the side of his works full of
originality, distinction, and grace. Chopin is an exceptional
pianist who ought not to be, and cannot be, compared with
anyone.

The words with which the critic of the Menestrel closes his
remarks, describe well the nature of the emotions which the
artist excited in his hearers:--

In order to appreciate Chopin rightly, one must love gentle
impressions, and have the feeling for poetry: to hear Chopin
is to read a strophe of Lamartine....Everyone went away full
of sweet joy and deep reverie (recueillement).

The concert, which was beyond a doubt a complete success, must
have given Chopin satisfaction in every respect. At any rate, he
faced the public again before a year had gone by. In the Gazette
Musicale of February 20, 1842, we read that on the following
evening, Monday, at Pleyel's rooms, the haute societe de Paris et
tous les artistes s'y donneront rendez-vous. The programme of the
concert was to be as follows:--

1. Andante suivi de la 3ieme Ballade, par Chopin.

2. Felice Donzella, air de Dessauer.

3. Suite de Nocturnes, Preludes et Etudes, par Chopin.

4. Divers fragments de Handel, chante par Madame Viardot-
Garcia.

5. Solo pour Violoncello, par M. Franchomme.

6. Nocturne, Preludes, Mazurkas et Impromptu.

7. Le Chene et le Roseau, chante par Madame Viardot-Garcia,
accompagne par Chopin.

Maurice Bourges, who a week later reports on the concert, states
more particularly what Chopin played. He mentions three mazurkas
in A flat major, B major, and A minor; three studies in A flat
major, F minor, and C minor; the Ballade in A flat major; four
nocturnes, one of which was that in F sharp minor; a prelude in D
flat; and an impromptu in G (G flat major?). Maurice Bourges's
account is not altogether free from strictures. He finds Chopin's
ornamentations always novel, but sometimes mannered (manierees).
He says: "Trop de recherche fine et minutieuse n'est pas
quelquefois sans pretention et san froideur." But on the whole
the critique is very laudatory. "Liszt and Thalberg excite, as is
well known, violent enthusiasm; Chopin also awakens enthusiasm,
but of a less energetic, less noisy nature, precisely because he
causes the most intimate chords of the heart to vibrate."

From the report in the "France musicale" we see that the audience
was not less brilliant than that of the first concert:--

...Chopin has given in Pleyel's hall a charming soiree, a fete
peopled with adorable smiles, delicate and rosy faces, small
and well-formed white hands; a splendid fete where simplicity
was combined with grace and elegance, and where good taste
served as a pedestal to wealth. Those ugly black hats which
give to men the most unsightly appearance possible were very
few in number. The gilded ribbons, the delicate blue gauze,
the chaplets of trembling pearls, the freshest roses and
mignonettes, in short, a thousand medleys of the prettiest and
gayest colours were assembled, and intersected each other in
all sorts of ways on the perfumed heads and snowy shoulders of
the most charming women for whom the princely salons contend.
The first success of the seance was for Madame George Sand. As
soon as she appeared with her two charming daughters [daughter
and cousin?], she was the observed of all observers. Others
would have been disturbed by all those eyes turned on her like
so many stars; but George Sand contented herself with lowering
her head and smiling...