Chapter IX

CHOPINʼS STAY IN BRESLAU, DRESDEN, PRAGUE, AND VIENNA.

At Kaliz, where Frederic met his friend and travelling companion, Titus Woyciechowski, he was the guest of the physician, Dr. Kelbich. That most agreeable man requested him to give a concert in the little town, but the young artist declined, not being satisfied with the orchestra.

At the present day, a famous pianoforte _virtuoso_ like Chopin would not concern himself about the orchestra, but unhesitatingly perform the longest programme, without the assistance of any other artists. Then, however, pianists rarely played less than two pieces with orchestral accompaniment; they engaged the co-operation of other musicians, partly from a respect for art, partly for the sake of offering the public more variety.

Chopin declared that it was impossible to play the whole evening, and as soon as Woyciechowski arrived, he bade a grateful farewell to his hospitable host and pursued his journey. The friends stopped at Breslau, from whence Chopin wrote as follows:—

_Breslau, November, 9th, 1830._

MY BELOVED PARENTS AND SISTERS,

We arrived here very comfortably on Saturday evening, at six,
in bright pleasant autumn weather. We put up at the Hotel “Zur
Goldenen Gans,” and, as soon as we had dressed and taken some
refreshment, we went to the theatre, where Raimundʼs “Alpine King”
was being performed. You will see the piece some day. The public
admired the scenery more than we did. I thought the acting pretty
good. The day before yesterday “Maurer and Schlosser” was given,
but not in first-rate style. To-day I shall hear the “Interrupted
Sacrifice;” I am quite curious to see how it will turn out. There
is a want of good singers here, but then the theatre is very cheap;
a place in the pit only costs two Polish gulden.[72]

[Sidenote: MUSIC AT BRESLAU.]

Breslau pleases me much better this time than last. I have
delivered Sowinskiʼs letter, but have scarcely seen him yet, for
we were unfortunately out when he called. We had first gone to the
_Ressource_, where, by invitation of the conductor, Schnabel, I was
present at the rehearsal for the concert in the evening. There are
three concerts a week.

As is often the case at rehearsals, there was a very poor
orchestra; a certain Referendar Hellwig was going to perform
Moschelesʼ E flat major Concerto. Before this gentleman sat down,
Schnabel, who had not heard me for four years, asked me to try the
piano. I could not refuse this request, and played some Variations.
Schnabel overwhelmed me with expressions of praise and pleasure.
This made Hellwig feel a little uneasy, and I was pressed to take
his place in the evening. Schnabel threw his influence into the
scale, and asked me so heartily, that I could not deny the dear old
man his wish. He is a great friend of Herr Elsnerʼs, which means
much to me; but I told Schnabel at once that I only played for his
sake, that for weeks I had not touched an instrument, and that it
was not part of my programme to play in Breslau. Schnabel replied,
that he was well aware of that, but that when he saw me in church,
yesterday, he wished to ask me, but did not venture to do so. What
could I do? So I went back to the hotel with his son to fetch my
music, and played the Romance and Rondo from the second Concerto.

The Germans admired my playing at the rehearsal. “What a light
touch he has,” I heard them whisper; but about the composition I
did not catch a syllable. Titus, whose ears are everywhere, and who
is always active on my behalf, heard one gentleman say, “there is
no doubt that this young man can play, but he cannot compose.”

Yesterday, at the _table dʼhôte_, I made the acquaintance of a
very amiable-looking gentleman, who was sitting opposite me. In
the course of conversation I discovered that his name was Scharff,
that he knew Scholtz, of Warsaw, well, and was on friendly terms
with the gentlemen to whom I had letters of introduction. This Herr
Scharff was wonderfully kind and obliging to Titus and myself. He
took us all over Breslau, went with us to the suburbs of the town,
wrote down our names as guests at the _Ressource_, and procured
us visitorsʼ tickets for the concert yesterday, which he sent
before the rehearsal. How astonished this friendly gentleman, and
his companion who had obtained the tickets, must have been, when
they beheld in one of the strangers the chief personage in the
performance.

[Sidenote: PLAYS AT A CONCERT.]

Besides playing the Rondo, I improvised, for the sake of the
connoisseurs, on a theme from the “Mutes of Portice.” There was an
overture, and some dancing to conclude with. Schnabel wanted to
regale me with a sumptuous supper, but I only took a cup of broth.

Of course I have made the acquaintance of the chief organist in
Breslau, Herr Köhler; he promised to show me his organ. I met,
also, a certain Baron Nesse di Neisse, a great violin player and a
pupil of Spohrʼs.

Another musician resident here, a Herr Hesse,[73] was also very
complimentary to me; but none of the Germans, except Schnabel,
whose face beams with real delight, and who claps me on the
shoulder every moment, quite know what to make of me.

Titus took delight in watching what went on around. As I have not
yet got a name, people could not make up their minds whether to
praise or to blame me, and connoisseurs were not quite certain
whether my music was really good, or only seemed so. A gentleman
came up to me and praised the form, as something quite new. I donʼt
know his name, but I think of all my listeners he understood me the
best.

Schnabel placed a carriage at my disposal in the kindest manner;
but when the dancing began, about ten, we went quietly home. I am
truly glad that I was able to give pleasure to the dear old man.

After the concert, Schnabel introduced me to a lady who is
considered the first pianist in Breslau. She thanked me very much
for the “delightful surprise,” as she expressed it, but regretted,
exceedingly, that I would not make up my mind to appear in public.

The Referendar consoled himself, and sang—though very
indifferently—Figaroʼs air from the “Barbiere di Sevilla.”

A great deal was said about Elsner, yesterday, and his Echo
Variations for the orchestra were much praised. I said that
they could only judge what a composer Elsner was after hearing
his Coronation Mass. We leave for Dresden to-morrow at two oʼclock.
I kiss and embrace you. My kindest remembrances to Messrs. Eisner,
Zywny, Matuszynski, Kolberg, Marylski, and Witwicki.

Your FREDERIC.

* * * * *

_Dresden, November 14th, 1830._

I have scarcely found a moment yet to write you a few words. I have
just come from a dinner at which the company were all Poles. I
have crept away to write to you, for the post goes at seven, and I
should much like to see the “Mutes of Portici,” at the Theatre.

We quitted Breslau unwillingly; the society of the gentlemen to
whom Scholtz had given us letters of introduction made our sojourn
in the capital of Silesia very agreeable.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL IN DRESDEN.]

My first visit in Dresden was to Fräulein Pechwell. She played,
on Friday, at a Musical _Soirée_ at Councillor Kressigʼs, and
procured an _entrée_ for me. The “Mutes” was to be performed the
same evening at the theatre. The choice was difficult; but one must
always be polite to ladies, so I decided for the _Soirée_. Another
important reason with me was, that Signora Palazzesi,[74] the
_prima donna_ of the Italian opera, was expected to be there.

After making a very careful toilet, I had a Sedan chair fetched,
got into the queer, comfortable box, and was carried to the house
where the musical entertainment was to take place. The spirit of
mischief seized me, and I felt a desire to stamp through the bottom
of the chair; however, I forebore.

Arrived at Kressigʼs abode, I sent up my name to Fräulein Pechwell,
whereupon the master of the house appeared, received me with many
compliments, and led me into a room where a number of ladies were
sitting at eight large tables. No flashing of diamonds met my gaze,
but the more modest glitter of a host of steel knitting needles,
which moved ceaselessly in the hands of these industrious ladies.

The number of ladies and of needles was so large that if the ladies
had purposed an attack upon the gentlemen, the latter would have
been in a sorry plight. The only resource left them would have been
to have made weapons of their spectacles, of which there were as
many as there were bald heads.

The clatter of knitting needles and tea cups was suddenly
interrupted by music from the adjoining room. The overture to
“Fra Diavolo” was played first; then Signora Palazzesi sang, in a
magnificent voice, clear as a bell, and with plenty of bravura. I
presented myself to the songstress, which gave me an opportunity of
speaking also to the Musical Director, Rastrelli,[75] who had
accompanied her. With true artistic politeness Rastrelli introduced
me to Signor Rubini, who, with much affability, promised me a
letter to his brother, the famous tenor. I do not need anything
more for Milan. Yesterday, Rubini kindly took me to the Catholic
Church, where a mass was being performed of Morlacchiʼs (bandmaster
here.) This refined and agreeable man remembered me at once,
and, giving me a place beside him, talked to me a long time. At
these Vespers I heard the two celebrated Neapolitan soprani,
Sassaroli and Tarquinio; the violin obligato was played by the
bandmaster, the incomparable Rolla, to whom Soliva had given me
a recommendation. Rolla received me very pleasantly, and said he
would give me a letter to his father, the opera director in Milan.

After hearing Fräulein Pechwell play at the musical _soirée_,
I quietly slipped away to the opera; but only arrived at the
commencement of the fifth act, so refrain from any criticism. I
shall hear it all this evening.

[Sidenote: KIND RECEPTION FROM THE ARTISTS.]

As I was going at the Dresden visiting hour, to call on Klengel, I
met him in front of his house. He knew me directly, and welcomed
me with heart-felt politeness. I have a great respect for him.
Klengel asked me where I lived, and begged me to come and see
him early the next day, as he could not go back with me then. He
advised me to play in public, but I told him, in as friendly a way
as I could, that I should not be here long enough for that. I donʼt
think Dresden would bring me either much fame, or much money, and I
have no time to spare.

General Kniaziewicz, whom I saw at Frau Pruszakʼs, talked about a
concert, but thought with me that I should make little by it.

Yesterday I heard “Tancred,” but could not, on the whole, praise
the performance. Rollaʼs marvellous solo, and the song by Fräulein
von Hähnel, of the Vienna Royal Opera Theatre, had to make up
for the shortcomings of the rest. The King, with his court, were
present; they were, the same morning, at the service in the church,
where a mass, by Baron Miltitz, was performed, under the direction
of Morlacchi. The voices of Messrs. Sassarole, Muschetti, Babnigg,
and Zezi sounded magnificent. I cannot call the composition
original, but well worked out; the royal chamber musicians,
Dotzaceer and Rummer, celebrated violincellists, played their solos
very finely.

I know none of the chief artists intimately, except dear Klengel,
to whom I am sure to play to-morrow. I like to talk to Klengel, for
one always learns something from him.

I saw the Green Arch when I was here before, and once is enough
for me; but I have visited the Picture Gallery again with the
greatest interest; if I lived here I should go every week; there
are pictures in it, the sight of which makes me fancy I hear music.
Good bye for to-day.

Your FREDERIC.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: THE WEEK AT DRESDEN]

_Prague, November 21st, 1830._

The week at Dresden slipped away so quickly that I hardly noticed
how it went. I used to leave my hotel in the best of spirits in the
morning, and did not return till night. When Klengel came to know
me better as a musician, that is, when I had played my Concerto to
him, he said that my playing strongly reminded him of Field, that
my touch was quite unique, and that, although he had already heard
much about me, he had not thought that I was such a _virtuoso_.

I saw—and why should I be ashamed of it?—with pleasure, that these
were sincere compliments; and he gave me a practical proof of their
being so, for scarcely had I left him when he went to Malacchi,
and to Councillor von Lüttichau, who is director general of the
Royal drama, to find out whether, if I stayed four days longer
in Dresden, I could give a concert without any very burdensome
preparations. Klengel assured me afterwards that he did not do
this for me, but for Dresden, and that he should like to force me
into giving a concert. He came to me the next morning and said,
that he had taken all the necessary steps, but that there was no
evening disengaged till next Sunday (this was Wednesday.) The first
performance of “Fra Diavolo” was fixed for Friday, and Rossiniʼs
“La Donna del Lago,” in Italian, for Saturday.

I gave Klengel a hearty welcome, for, indeed, I feel as if I had
known him for years, and he seems to feel the same towards me; he
asked for the score of my Concerto, and took me with him to the
_soirée_ at Frau Niesiolowskaʼs. I also called on Frau Szczerbinin,
but I had stayed so long at Frau Niesiolowskaʼs that by the time I
arrived the company had gone. I was, therefore, asked to dinner the
next day. In the afternoon I went, by invitation, to see Countess
Dobrzycka, who is head governess to Princess Augusta.

The countess was celebrating her birthday, and I had scarcely
offered my congratulations, when two Saxon Princesses entered:
Princess Augusta, only daughter of the late King Frederic Augustus,
surnamed “the Just,” and Princess Maximilian, neé Princess of
Lucca, daughter-in-law of the present King, a pleasant young lady.

[Sidenote: LETTERS FOR ITALY.]

I played before these ladies, whereupon letters were promised me
for Italy, which showed that my playing must have pleased them. Two
letters were in fact sent to my hotel the next day; the Countess
Dobrzycka will send the others after me to Vienna. I gave her my
address there. The letters were addressed to the Queen of the
Sicilies, at Naples, and Princess Ellasino, at Rome. Letters of
recommendation were also promised me to the reigning Duchess of
Lucca, and the Viceroy of Milan, which I was to receive through the
kind care of Kraszewski.

Klengel has just given me a letter to Vienna, where he thinks of
going himself bye and bye. At Frau Niesiolowskaʼs he drank my
health in champagne. The lady of the house teased me a good deal,
and insisted on always calling me “Szopski.”

Rolla is a first-rate violinist, as anyone who knows anything about
violin playing must admit.

Goodbye till you hear from Vienna, which we hope to reach by nine
on Thursday morning.

I pleased General Kniaziewicz very much; he told me that no other
pianist had made such an agreeable impression on him; I tell you
this because I know you will like to hear it.

Your FREDERIC.

* * * * *

_Vienna, December 1st, 1830._

I was greatly delighted with your letter, my dearests, the first
I have received for a month, that is since I parted from you. My
appetite increased a hundred per cent. at once.

“The Wild Man”—as the capital Restaurant where I dine is
called—charged a gulden and some kreuzers for an excellently
prepared fritter; what more would you wish?

Titus was full of joy too, for he received letters from his family.
I thank Celinski for the accompanying note; it vividly recalled
the time when I was still among you; it seemed to me as if I were
sitting at the piano, and Celinski standing opposite to me, looking
at M. Zwyny, who had just offered Linowski a pinch of snuff. Only
Materszynski was wanting to complete the group. Has he recovered
from the fever yet?

I must say that there are many charming girls in Vienna.

Haslinger received me very kindly, although he would print neither
the Sonata, nor the second Variations, but he shall repent this.

I learned, also, from Haslinger that Fräulein Blahetka is in
Stuttgart with her parents, and that, perhaps, she will not come
back at all this winter.

[Sidenote: PLEASANT LODGINGS IN VIENNA.]

I have taken lodgings with Titus in one of the principal streets,
close to the vegetable market. For three elegant rooms on the third
floor, we pay fifty gulden a month, which is considered cheap here.
An English Admiral is occupying them at present, but he leaves
to-day. Admiral! And I am admired.[76] So the house is a desirable
one, especially as the mistress, a handsome, widowed baroness,
still young, has been—as she says—for some time in Poland, and
heard of me in Warsaw. She knew the family Skarzynski had moved in
good society, and asked Titus if he did not know a beautiful young
lady of the name of Rembielinska.

The presence of this charming and intelligent lady makes the
apartments all the more agreeable, for she likes Poles, and being a
Prussian she regards the Austrians with no great favour.

As soon as we go in Graff, the pianoforte-maker, will send us an
instrument. When I went to see my friend Würfel, he began to talk
immediately about arrangements for a concert. He is a remarkable
man; although too ill to go out he gives lessons at his house. He
spits blood, which has weakened him very much, and yet he talks
of a concert. The poor sufferer told me that the newspapers here
wrote enthusiastically about my F minor Concerto, which I had not
the remotest expectation of. So I shall give a concert, but when,
where, how and what, I do not in the least know.

The change of air has given me a swollen nose, which hindered me
from presenting myself at the Prussian Ambassadorʼs hotel, or at
Countess Rzeiouskaʼs, the _rendezvous_ of all the “haute voleé.”
This lady lives next to Hussarzewskiʼs, where, in spite of my
nose, I have already been two or three times. He is of the same
opinion as Würfel, who advised me to play without honorarium. Dr.
Malfatti[77] welcomed me as warmly as if I had been a relation.
When he read my name on my visiting card, he hastened to me,
embraced me, and said, that Herr Wladislaw Ostrowski had written to
him about me, and that if he could be of any service he was ready
to do anything for me. He said, besides, that he would present me
to Madame Tatzszczew, the Russian Ambassadorʼs wife, and would
manage the necessary introductions; the Court was unfortunately in
mourning for the King of Naples, but he would do what was possible.
He also promised to introduce me to Baron Dunoi, director of the
Musical Society here, who would probably be most useful to me.

Elsnerʼs letter of recommendation to Herr Mittag procured me
another equally agreeable acquaintance, who took a lively interest
in me, and seems to be a person of influence.

I have been to see Czerny, who was as polite as ever, and asked,
“Have you been studying diligently?” He has arranged another
Overture for eight pianos and sixteen players, and seems very happy
about it.

Except Czerny, I have seen none of the pianists this time. I have
been twice to Frau Weyberheim, Frau Wolfʼs sister. I am invited
to the _soirée_ there to-morrow, “en petit cercle des amateurs.”
I shall pay a visit afterwards to Countess Rosalie Rzewuska, who
receives between nine and ten. Hussarzewski has informed her that
I am coming; I shall meet the celebrated Frau Cibini,[78] for whom
Moscheles wrote a duet sonata.

Yesterday I went with my letters to Stametzʼs counting-house, and
was received just as if I had come for money. He handed me a paper,
which notified that I was to go to the police with my card of
permission to stay, and—basta. But perhaps it will be different bye
and bye.

[Sidenote: ADVISED NOT TO GIVE A CONCERT.]

I was also at Banker Geymüllerʼs yesterday, where Titus has to
receive his 6,000 Polish gulden. When he had read my name Herr
Geymüller, without taking any further notice of the letter, said,
it was very agreeable to him to become acquainted with an artist
of such distinction as myself; but he could not advise me to give
a concert here, as there were very many good pianists in the city,
and a great reputation was requisite to make money. Finally, he
remarked, “I cannot help you in any way, the times are too bad.”

I listened with big eyes to this edifying discourse, and when it
was over I replied, that I was not at all sure whether it would
pay to make a public appearance, for I had not yet called upon any
influential people, not even on the Russian Ambassador, to whom I
had a letter from the Grand Prince Constantine.

At that, Herr Geymüller suddenly changed his tactics; but I took my
leave, regretting that I had robbed him of his precious time, and
thought to myself, “Wait you ... Jew.”

I have not been to the bandmaster, Lachner, yet, as I have not room
enough to receive return visits.

We went from the “City of London,” where we had a long bill to pay,
to the “Golden Lamb,” in Leopold Street, where we are still, hoping
that the Englishman will quit the Baronessʼs rooms to-day. “As soon
as we are in our own house,” says Titus, who always tries to make
me assume the position of the haughty patron, “we will introduce
an aristocratic _ton_. Then,” he continued, “we will receive, have
music, and arrange for concerts—but not gratuitous ones.”

I have not yet visited Madame Raayek, Frau von Elkau, Rothschild,
the Vogts, and various other interesting people. To-day I am going
to the Embassy, where I hope to see Baron Meindorf, whom I shall
ask for first, on Hussarzewskiʼs advice, for Baron Meindorf will
tell me when I can best present myself to Herr Tatyszezew.

[Sidenote: OPERA IN VIENNA.]

I have not touched the money which I had from the banker the day
before yesterday. I mean to be very careful of it. I am sorry, my
dear parents, but I must ask you to send me something more at the
end of the month for the journey to Italy, in case my concerts turn
out badly. The theatre is my heaviest expense; but this I regret
the less as Fräulein Heinefetter[79] and Herr Wildt[80] sing nearly
every evening, and are excellent beyond all description. This week
I have heard three entirely new operas: “Fra Diavolo” yesterday,
three days ago “Titus,” and to-day “William Tell.” I certainly
prefer “The Mutes of Portici” to “Fra Diavolo.”

I do not envy Orlowski[81] because he accompanies Lafont. Will the
time come when Lafont shall accompany me? Does the question seem
presumptuous? But if God wills it may come to pass.

Nidecki thinks of staying here the whole winter. All this week I
have done nothing but take care of my nose, go to the opera and
to Graffʼs. I play every afternoon to get my stiff fingers into
working order. I do not know how this week has flown. I have, as
yet, taken no definite steps towards a concert. _A propos_ of that,
do you advise me to play the F minor or E minor concerto? Würfel
thinks my F minor concerto more beautiful than Hummelʼs in A flat
major, which has just been published by Haslinger. Herr Haslinger
is shrewd, trying in a cautious, subtle way, to induce me to let
him have my compositions gratis. Klengel was surprised that he gave
me nothing for the variations. Perhaps Haslinger thinks that if he
treats my works as _bagatelles_, I shall be only too glad to get
them printed; but the time for gratuitous work is over with me; now
it is, pay _bestie_.

Graff advised me to choose the States Deputies Hall, where the
“Spirituel” concerts are given, as the nicest and best place
for my concert. But I must first obtain the permission of Count
Dietrichstein, which, indeed, will not be difficult through
Malfatti.

I am as strong as a lion, and they say I am stouter. Altogether I
am doing well, and I hope, through God, who sent Malfatti to be a
help to me—oh, splendid Malfatti—that I shall do still better.